#'null get a new piece of paper what are you doing'

[error404vnotfound]

pov you stumble into the mad scientist's lair and find his work

[cherhys]

Kiss the Cook(s)

Dad!Cassian x Reader

Summary: You come home after a long day to find a mess in the kitchen, but the joyous laughter and babble coming from that direction make up for it. 

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, mention of sex (direct/indirect)

Notes: Easing my way back into the writing world with a short and disgustingly sweet (with a little teasing ofc) piece. I can’t just come out swinging after a month of nothing (eek) y’know? I’ve been into spontaneous baking now that I’m home from uni and thus this baby was whipped up. Hope you didn’t miss me too much! xx

You rolled your neck as you stepped into the House of Wind, hoping to loosen the tension you amassed throughout the day. Today had been abysmal on every front—the Autumn Court was rejecting new terms you proposed as advisor of the Night Court, Mor was unsuccessful in Vallahan again, and the stack of papers on your desk seemed to grow taller regardless of how many you reviewed. A dull pain was beginning to throb behind your eyes. A nice, long soak with some lavender bath salts should do the—

A happy squeal punctured through the haze of your never-ending frustration. Had you imagined the sound? After the day you’ve had, hallucinations wouldn’t be so shocking, however, another bubbly gurgle reached your ears. Your smile was nearly immediate. You should’ve noticed the happily glowing light in your chest was particularly bright today. Sugary-smelling goodness flooded your senses like a balm to your fraying nerves. 

Your feet can’t carry you to the kitchen fast enough, excitement coursing through your veins. However, upon entering the kitchen, you ground to a halt, failing to process the scene before you. Your eyes don’t know where to look first. The kitchen was an absolute mess. Utensils and bowls covered every surface that wasn’t already splattered with various questionable ingredients. Your eyebrows raised at the– were those mashed potatoes on the counter? Frankly, you couldn’t tell, but the bulk of the mess covered your mate and baby girl. 

Your little girl was sitting in her high chair so she could reach the tall counter and was unceremoniously stirring some batter of sorts, though a good chunk of it now splattered the countertop. Miraculously, your daughter looked better than your mate did—various stains of egg, batter, butter and other ingredients cover Cassian. You’re pretty sure those were eggshells in his hair. The two look so happy, making whatever concoction of ingredients they’ve lumped together, so how could you be upset, even if flour had somehow made it to your high ceilings? Neither one had noticed you yet, and you took in the sweet sight as they giggled and played together. 

Cassian had put your daughter in her “Kiss the Cook” bib, a twin to his own apron. You dimly wondered if he had a shirt underneath as you couldn’t see any sleeves or collar. Your heart clenched at the sweet gaze he reserved only for your baby girl, his sure hand lifting to rub some batter on her button nose. Cassian bent closer, and your daughter shoved her chubby fist into the batter and smooshed it onto his stubbled jaw. You burst out laughing as he caught her hand in his mouth, and she gave a giddy squeal. 

Two sets of wide hazel eyes turned to look at you, first in shock and then with uncontained glee. They let out chorused cheers that only further fuelled your laughter. Their twin grins (you’ve always loved that your daughter got Cassian’s beaming smile, but Cauldron, your genetics were null) somehow get all the brighter. 

Your daughter made grabby hands at you, and you couldn’t help but coo and kiss her batter-laden cheeks. 

“Hello, my darlings.” You nuzzle into your babe’s supple neck, her hands grabbing listlessly at your clothing. 

“And what about my kiss?” Cassian pouted, pointing to his lips. You rolled your eyes at his antics, only for his kiss to render you breathless. His strong arms circled around you, pulling you into his warm embrace—no shirt it was, then. No matter how long you’d been mated, he never ceases to make it special; as if it’s the first kiss all over again. Your shoulders relax, and your heart flutters at the creeping smile you feel growing on Cassian’s face. He deepens the kiss before your daughter’s bubbly gurgles pull you away from one another.  

You don’t get far as Cassian’s arms tighten around you reassuringly, his thumb rubbing a comforting pattern into the curve of your hip. 

“What are you making?” You rested your head on his chest, the beat of his heart chipping away at your weariness with every steady ba-dump. He kissed your temple, knowing you must be nursing your headache. 

“Chocolate chip cookies.” His proud proclamation was met with happy babbles from your babe, as if she were also excited about the cookies she certainly couldn’t eat. 

You surveyed the virtually destroyed kitchen once more, “And baking cookies involves making a large enough mess that Nuala and Ceridwen will curse you for the next decade?”

Cassian shook his head in mock despair, the corners of his lips twitching up, “I’m afraid there are always casualties in battle, sweetheart.”

You babe loudly burbled and waved her tiny fist as if in agreement with her father. The babe had yet to speak, and she was already conspiring with her father against you. You sighed and reluctantly pulled yourself from Cassian’s loving embrace, tugging at his apron, “Well then, you could use all the help you can get, right General?”

The tender smile on his face morphed into something devious, his eyes darkening with mischief, “Depends on what you’re offering, sweetheart.” 

You swatted at his shoulder, an offended whine leaving his lips at the hit, “Not in front of our daughter. She can hear you.”

He opened his mouth, ready to retort that your babe was preoccupied with further splattering the batter she had her hands on, but you pulled him tightly to you. You leaned onto your tiptoes, turning your head to his ear as you languorously raked your nails down his exposed side, “You’re welcome to find out how much help I can be later, hmm, General?” 

He let loose a slow breath at your whispered sultry tone, his warrior training and your daughter being the only things stopping him from taking you on the counter. A slow smile bloomed across your face at the heated flare of arousal he unconsciously sent down the bond. Before he could respond, you coyly pulled away as if nothing had happened. You turned to your daughter, pinching her sweet cheeks, “Let’s finish these cookies, okay? I think all we need is the chocolate chips.”

Grabbing the bowl with what was left of the batter, you yelped as a loud smack came down on your ass. 

“Cassian!” You gasped and rubbed at your sore bum, your cheeks burning as you turned to your mate. Cassian simply gave you a meaningful side-long look that promised more of that later, as he bent to open a cabinet, the timbre of his voice impeccably nonchalant,  “Just the chocolate chips, right?”

You stared at him a beat longer, your daughter flapping her little wings clumsily in the silence as you absently smoothed over your surely reddening ass. Cassian raised a brow at you in challenge, and you bit your lip with a nod, “Yes, please.”

His faux-serious look melted into the face of a cock-sure male who knew he’d won as he began to root around in the cabinet. You huffed at his low chuckle, sending enough abrasive feelings down the bond to let him know what an insufferable ass he is. 

Loud slapping against the counter broke through the heavy tension in the air, your daughter demanding attention with a wobbling pout. You cooed at her antics, grabbing a towelette to gently wipe her chubby cheeks. You suppressed a sigh at the batter dried to her curls, thinking of the bath that had to happen after the cookies were done. 

As if reading your mind, Cassian hummed in thought, “I’ll have to give the little bat a good scrubbing.”

“It is your fault.” 

He pleadingly put his hands out, “Look at her! Of course I gave her the batter; you can’t say no to those eyes!”

You both turned to look at your babe, her face lighting up with a gummy smile as she cooed, dark lashes framing her doe eyes. You imperceptibly softened, and Cassian gave a boisterous laugh, “That’s my girl.”

He loudly clapped his hands and placed them on his hips, drawing your attention back to his tanned waist and the muscles peaking from behind the apron, “Alright! Let’s get these done so I can take my girls to bed since it's getting late.” 

His wolfish grin only spread as he noticed where your gaze was fixed, “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” 

Cassian deviously winked, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his persistent ridiculousness, your cheeks pinking at having been caught staring.

Cassian tore open the chocolate chips, and you handed a silicone spatula to your daughter for her to teethe on. You both quickly fell into step with one another, seamlessly weaving to mix the batter, line the pans, and finish the treats. The warm, content feeling in your chest further grew as Cassian talked about his day, your babe’s happy chatter in the background. No amount of weariness from the long day at work could take away from the special moments with your family.

Final Notes: Girl dad Cassian >>>> Ugh, I want him so bad. Hope you like it <3

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

By music! Question, I was looking for a Drabble you wrote and post, I think it was a WIP about havenfall is for family, about hisashi’s will and how Izuku wouldn’t get anything if he transition or something and I was wondering if you could help me find it?

Inko had been the first to fall for Hisashi’s charm but she hadn’t been the last by far. Sitting in the small police station that Sherriff Hunt had escorted her, Izuku and Mr. Smith to, she figured Martha probably hadn’t been the last either.

“It fits his usual antics.” Inko said tiredly. “The only reason I stuck around was because he’d actively sabotaged my college career and had a lot of money. Leaving would have ruined me even with evidence of him cheating which three of his girlfriends had given me.”

“A real piece of work,” Sherrif Hunt said in disgust. She paused to look at Izuku who was lost in his own world with Inko’s phone and headphones.

“He’s looking up local heroes.” Inko explained. Hunt looked interested, eyes twinkling.

“Really? Does he know any English? My Japanese is rusty, and I’d like to talk about heroes.”

“He knows a fair amount.” Inko smiled as the sherriff easily drew Izuku away. Far enough he couldn’t hear but close enough Inko could see. She was a good woman, Inko could tell.

“Alright so, Hisashi left you and Izuku everything,” Mr. Smith didn’t beat around the bush. “His funeral was last week, but you didn’t come due to…”

“Izuku’s classmates thought it would be funny to push him down the stairs and he broke his arm and leg,” Inko said shortly. The lawyer stared at her in open mouth shock. Inko noticed that the Sherrif seemed to have stiffened briefly to. Enhanced hearing probably. “One of the parents at least felt bad enough to get a relative with a healing Quirk in but it took a while.”

“Oh…” Mr. Smith swallowed. “Okay, so, it makes sense why you’re staying here for a while.”

“Just a few years to handle Hisashi’s affairs so I can arrange to move to a new place in Japan. The house he and his mother lived in is still good, correct?” Inko asked.

“It is.” Mr. Smith nodded. He made a note on some paper he’d taken from his briefcase. “Izuku will inherit a large sum as long… as…” he trailed off. Inko sighed.

“Izuku declared he was a boy when he was four and I never denied him that. Perhaps he’s a little to young for it, I don’t know. Don’t ask me how gender works. I don’t see any harm in letting him explore pronouns and his identity. Maybe he’ll decide otherwise.” Inko sighed. “What did Hisashi put?”

“Izuku cannot go on hormone blockers and has to have a kid.”

“That sounds illegal.” Inko said instantly.

“It actually is thanks to certain laws in Japan.” Mr. Smith told her. “Here in the states it’s still legal so I believe he thought he could do that. However as most of his assets are in Japan…”

“He couldn’t.” Inko let out a breath of relief. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“Told him Japanese law makes that condition null but he ignored me.” Mr. Smith shrugged. “Not my problem.” The rest of the meeting was just discussing the assets. It was a fair amount of money, enough Inko could go back to college herself to finally get that literature degree she’d always wanted and not work until Izuku was in his teens. And Izuku could be well off as an adult himself. And that was just the liquid assets.

“How many houses did he have?” Inko wondered. There were four in America and two in Japan. Along with multiple sets of art and other goods. “Please tell me he wasn’t a villain.”

“Oh no, just shady,” Mr. Smith said. The meeting continued with Inko agreeing to have some companies clean out the houses and sell them, including the ones in Japan as Inko wanted to arrange a new home for her and Izuku. Without memories of her ex-husband.

Some days were better then others concerning him. She missed the man she thought he’d been; the funny and kind man who swept her off her feet when she was young. Who took her dancing and who promised to love her.

The cracks had appeared when she was twenty-five but she didn’t fully notice them until she was pregnant. When Hisashi knew she wouldn’t leave, because she didn’t have a job or any education. Izuku became her whole world and he used it against her.

Inko would never regret her son. Izuku was her pride and joy, a beautiful little boy. But Hisashi knew what buttons to press. It just got worse when Izuku got his diagnosis.

(She hated that word. Diagnosis, like being Quirkless was a terminal illness meant to kill him. It wouldn’t kill Izuku.

Society would. It already tried when he got shoved down the stairs. It tried when Inko had to fight to get anyone to care. When Mitsuki tried to convince Inko that Katsuki had nothing to do with it, when the woman was so obtuse to her son’s actions that she ignored Inko’s worry. When Mitsuki kept defending Katsuki even when proof came out.

When Inko tried to believe Katsuki apologized only to find Izuku sobbing because the blonde had burned Izuku’s arm due to ‘making auntie side against him’. Inko told Katsuki off and she realized how little anyone had seen her son as a person.

All highly illegal and Inko walked away after setting the police on Aldera and the Bakugou family. She blocked them all.)

Inko hadn’t been a saint when she’d learned Izuku didn’t have a Quirk. She’d gone through the motions and had a pity party until she snapped out of it when Izuku came home with tears in his eyes because he got told by a teacher he’d end up on a street corner.

He was five. Inko hated it took that single act of cruelty to wake her up. Hisashi hadn’t been woken up, but he’d been decent enough to keep up the facade.

[tma-entity-song-poll]

Battle of the Fear Bands!

B6R2: The Eye

Harvester of Eyes:

“Harvester of eyes that's me, I see all there is to see.”

An Unhealthy Obsession:

Lyrics below the line!

Harvester of Eyes:

Harvester of eyes, that's me And I see all there is to see When I look inside your head Right up front to the back of your skull Well, that's my sign that you are dead My list for you checks off as null I'm the harvester of eyes!

I'm the eye man of TV With my ocular TB I need all the peepers I can find Inside the barn where you find the hay Just last week, I took a ride So high on eyes, I almost lost my way I'm the harvester of eyes!

Harvester of eyes, that's me (Harvester of eyes) And I see all there is to see (Harvester of eyes) When I look inside your head (Harvester of eyes) Right up front to the back of your skull (Harvester of eyes) (Harvester of eyes) (Harvester of eyes) (Harvester of eyes) (Harvester of eyes)

My-my-my-my-my My-my-my-my-my My-my-my-my-my-my I'm the harvester of eyes I'm just walkin' down the street I see a garbage can, I pick it up I look through all the garbage To see if there are any eyes inside I'll put 'em in my pink leather bag And take all their eyeballs And I bleed with 'em As I plead with their eyes all night So if you see me walkin' down the street You'd better get out of the way And put on your eyeglasses 'Cause I'm gonna take your eyes home with me

An Unhealthy Obsession:

They call it creeping, I say loving, it's the only way for me Filling out papers, signing waivers, but I stay outside his reach I name your mother and your father and the first pet that you keep I know your favourite place to dine at when your cheque comes in each week

I know you do your wash on Sundays and you separate your whites And that your car needs a new tire 'cause last week I laid those spikes I've got a million polaroids with all the dates penned in red ink I sneak a walkie-talkie in your room to listen to you sleep

You just don't know it yet, but you love me and I love you the same One day we'll have a pretty wedding, and I'll be your everything We'll be together, yes forever, we will never ever part Oh, you don't know it yet but baby I've already got your heart

Some call it stalking, I say walking just extremely close behind I'm sure if I sat down and asked you, well, you really wouldn't mind You've got those eyes that drive me crazy And I've got eyes to watch you sleep I brought a pack lunch and some coffee For my stakeout in your tree, outside your house (shh)

Gotta be as quiet as a mouse, or else you'll call the police And I'll get done for somethin' stupid like disturbance of the peace And piece by piece, I am collecting all the things you leave behind And when you don't, I rummage through your bins to see what I can find

You just don't know it yet, but you love me and I love you the same One day we'll have a pretty wedding, and I'll be your everything We'll be together, yes forever, we will never ever part Oh, you don't know it yet but baby I've already got your heart

You just don't know it yet, but you love me and I love you the same One day we'll have a pretty wedding, and I'll be your everything We'll be together, yes forever, we will never ever part Oh, you don't know it yet but baby I've already got your heart

[xoxo-teddybear]

You Did This To Us - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, cursing, gore, implied sexual activity, infidelity, alcohol abuse, marijuana use, I’m just here to rip y’all hearts out, MDNI

Summary: It was a horrible battle against raging villains and he watched you, his loving wife of 6 years, get pierced right in front of him. It was traumatizing. Your days in the hospital sent him into depression, causing him to make the worst decisions of his life. Decisions he’s regretted the second he’s made them and decisions he’ll forever regret because of what it cost him.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

He warned you not to come. No that’s not the right word. He begged you to sit your ass down at home where you would be safe. But of course, you were never that kind of hero. You could never sit on the sidelines and watch others fight a battle you knew you could at least try to help in. So with a heavy heart, he reluctantly allowed you to come. His first regret.

Because as the battle died down and victory was in sight, his world was thrown into chaos once more. The villains were down. The wind was settling. The dust was clearing. Katsuki could see you struggling to stand due to exhaustion but saw your smile nonetheless. He gave a breath of relief as he still saw you and jogged over to you. As he did, you noticed him coming your way and your smile only grew. Until it suddenly dropped, along with his own. Out of nowhere, a sharp, metal staff flew threw the air and pierced you right in the stomach. The sight was nauseating as Katsuki covered his mouth, truly shocked. He watched you in horror as you trembled before falling to the ground.

Katsuki looked behind him to find the attacker and saw some stupid, weak ass, good for nothing villain use the last of his power just to cause you harm. Then the world began to shake. No, that wasn’t it. Katsuki was violently trembling as he looked towards the bastard on the ground. Despite him being knocked out cold, that didn’t stop Dynamight from rushing over to him, grabbing him by the neck and blasting him. No one was around. No one would see. His job was safe. He could do this and have no repercussions whatsoever, so why not?

After the petty villain’s death, Katsuk used every ounce of strength in him to run to your body that had blood trickling down the side of your lips. “Y/N!”

You turned your head the best you could to find your husband sobbing his eyes out as he picked you up into his lap. He cradled your head and gently tapped your face, trying to keep you conscious. “Hey! Hey, you’re gonna be okay, alright?! You’re gonna be okay baby I promise.”

“Suki..I’m tired.” You whispered out in a weak voice. Hearing your words stabbed him through the chest.

“I-..I know baby. I know you’re tired. But- but you can’t go to sleep okay? Don’t go to sleep. You have to stay awake- stay alive! Okay?” He pleaded with you. He called out for a medic once he saw the flashing red and blue lights near the scene and held onto your body. He looked to you and saw your eyes becoming null and dense before firing back up again. You were falling in and out of consciousness. You were a fighter and you were trying to stay alive. It made him choke out a sad laugh. “You’re gonna make it, Teddy Bear, I swear.”

“….if I don’t make it-“

“You will, you idiot, don’t say shit like that!”

“But if I don’t…just- Ah-….just know I love you, Suki.”

Katsuki kissed your forehead before hugging you close. “I know, Y/N. I love you too. More than anyone, and more than you’ll ever fucking know.”

He noticed a small smile reach your lips before the medics came. Katsuki was quick to stand with you in his arms, careful and aware of the metal still pierced within you. He handed you off to the professionals who handled you with extra care. They brought you into the ambulance with Katsuki trying to follow in before being stopped.

“The fuck-“

“Dynamight, we can’t allow you to go in.” One said.

“And why the fuck not?! That’s my wife in there!” Katsuki shouted as he pointed to you.

“I understand, but her condition is severe. We can’t have anyone taking up space as we take care of her on her way to the hospital.” He explained.

“Taking up space?! Do you even know who you’re-“

“Sir, please. Let me do my job, let me save your wife’s life.” With that, Katsuki finally nodded in silence as he allowed the medic’s words to echo in his head. “Can you meet us at the hospital?”

Once again, a silent nod. With that, the medic was off and back to your seemingly lifeless body. Katsuki watched as he lead the team and perfectly directed them. He was sure that until you got to the hospital, you were in good hands. That was one guy he could surprisingly trust. He didn’t know him very well or at all for that matter, but he has Dynamight’s trust. Now Katsuki just had to head home and clean himself up before finding you again. Screw getting checked up. He knew his body. He knew he was damn well fucking fine.

—

As Katsuki opened the door to his house in a rush, he was quick to take a shower just to wash off the dirt and blood. He quickly hopped out and changed into some clothes before looking for his car keys. He found them at his nightstand along with the framed pictures of you and him. One on your wedding night and one celebrating your 3rd anniversary as a married couple. As Katsuki quickly looked through he pictures he smiled with a tear falling down his cheek. He looked around the room and took in all the pictures of you both that decorated your walls and tables.

You both were together since junior high. You were together for 10 years and despite being at the young ages of 23 and 22, he still decided to pop the big questions and propose. You said yes. It was one of the happiest days of his life, next to getting you to be his girlfriend, and meeting you in general. Forget the hero work, he’d trade it all if it meant he got to stay with you. You were always involved when it came to his happiest points in life. And now you were fighting for your life at the hospital. So with that, Bakugou wiped his tears and ran to his car, urgently trying to meet you at the building.

As he pulled up and parked, he pushed passed all the paparazzi and fans that surrounded the entrance due to news of you being there. You can assume how bad it got when everyone took notice of another pro-hero, and that pro being Dynamight no less, showing up. Despite all that, Bakugou forced his way in and made it to the front desk, demanding to know where you were. The poor lady at the desk had to deal with this explosive bomb, only to anger him even more by asking for his ID.

“Are you a fucking idiot?! Look at me! I’m Bakugou fucking Katsuki?! The number one pro fucking hero?!” He screamed at the poor girl.

“I’m- I’m sorry sir! It’s just protocol. H/N is a pro-hero, this is just what has to be done.” She shakily let out. Bakugou grunted before slamming his ID and Hero license onto the table. The lady nodded before handing him a piece of paper that had directions to your room.

Bakugou snatched it and gave her a scowl before running to look for you. Finally making it to one of the highest floors and down the longest hallways, he finally reached your door with 2 doctors already standing out in front of it. Bakugou tried to get through but they stopped him from entering.

“What?! What fucking now?!” He shouted as he stepped back to keep their hands off of him.

“Sir, they’re taking care of your wife just fine, but you have to wait here.” One of the docs demanded. With that, an argument bursted out between the pro and the doctors. The booming voices shook the building until a familiar voice was heard from behind the blonde.

“Dynamight, your wife’s in good care. I made sure my own wife was to be her head doctor.” Bakugou turned around to find the medic that stopped him from going into your ambulance there.

“It’s you.” He spoke aloud. The medic smiled before bowing.

“Daisuke Ena,” the medic said before standing back up straight. “Please trust me when I say your wife will be fine.”

“…and why should I?” Bakugou said after thinking for a minute.

“My wife is the one taking care of her. She is one of the best, if not the best, doctor in the prefecture. That’s not a biased opinion by the way, you can look her up. Daisuke Ami. I ensured it was her who was to see to your wife.” Daisuke said with a calm smile. After looking towards your hospital room, Katsuki turned back to the medic and nodded silently like he did before. But this time, he added a small ‘thank you.’

—

6 hours. Katsuki sat in one of the seats in front of your hospital room for 6 fucking hours only for them to tell him they cannot allow you visitors. You were in an unstable condition and so they sent Katsuki home. The news was heart wrenching. You always ran through Katsuki’s mind 24/7. He couldn’t stop it. But now, these thoughts were no longer happy and innocent, consisting of ‘damn, I miss her,’ and ‘I wonder what my girl’s doing right now.’ Instead they consisted of ‘Is she gonna be okay,’ and ‘she’s gonna come home, right?’ but most of all ‘I can’t lose her.’

Luckily for Katsuki, he became familiar with medical staff, Daisuke Ena, and was lucky enough to get his number. Daisuke gave him updates on Y/N. Usually, they weren’t so great but the hero appreciated the messages. The text didn’t help in uplifting Katsuki’s spirits though. If anything, they made them worse. In the beginning, Katsuki had hope that you would turn out okay.

But then a week passed.

And then another.

And then two more and before he knew it, you had already been in there for a month. This was the longest month of Katsuki’s life. It sucks to say but in the 13 years that you both have been together, he’s hasn’t done much alone outside of hero work. And even then, he would be lucky enough to work with you. It was always you and him together. Dates? Duh. Grocery shopping? Always you and him. Going for a walk? Why not? He loves spending as much time as he could with you. He loves you. But he hadn’t realize how dependent he became on your presence. In a way, you being gone drove him mad. He knew where you were. You were in the hospital. He could drive her there and see you right now!

No he can’t.

Because he would go and you would be stuck in bed, unconscious and hooked to machines, in a room, behind a door that Katsuki can’t get by. Seeing you isn’t the same as holding you. Speaking to you isn’t the same as conversing with you. There’s no reciprocation from your end. Being around your near lifeless body could only do so much. And so after two more weeks without you went by, Katsuki fell into a depression.

And that sucks because a few days after Katsuki’s depression began, it was okay for him to see you. But you hadn’t woken up yet. He didn’t think he would be able to be near you and your practically dead body. The fact that you were alive didn’t stick to him. He can’t see your beautiful E/C eyes, he can’t hear your honey-like voice..there’s no way you’re alive. The back of his mind still had hope. He knew you were stable. He knew you were gonna be okay..hopefully..but, you weren’t waking up. You were basically dead. Dead, dead, dead. And the more he thought about it, the more realistic the idea came to be.

So he didn’t visit you anymore..something else he’ll come to regret, and because he didn’t visit, he grew mad. Throwing away his life and succumbing to the tempting taste of alcohol. Any he could get. From the cheapest beers in cans to the finest liquors sold from top shelf. In the beginning, it was..controlled, but then he showed up to hero work completely wasted. Kirishima saved his job and forced Katsuki to take a break until he becomes stable again. This only gave Katsuki free time to do whatever the hell he wanted. And what did he want to do? He wanted to become lost.

Lost in alcohol, lost in weed, lost in everything. Lost because he doesn’t have you. Everyday he would spend it drinking and smoking, constantly being cross faded and surprising all his friends when he remained alive after all the substance abuse. Wake up, drink, get ready, drink, sit in the living room, smoke, cry over you, smoke and drink, eat and drink, go to sleep after a smoke sesh, cry over you once more. Eventually, Katsuki had cried so much, the only thing keeping him together was the fact that he had all these pictures of the two of you. Pictures of your smiles, you giving him a kiss, your dates, your accomplishments..he has all these pictures..but none of them would ever be as good as the real you.

Seeing his friend going down this road, Kirishima couldn’t help but try to do everything he could to fix his friend. No matter how many times Katsuki pushed him away, the red head kept going back. And none of his attempts to help his friend worked. Until…

—

“What now, Shitty Hair?” Bakugou groaned as he opened his door and squinted at the bright day light. He doesn’t remember that last time he’s seen the sun.

“I know you’ve been in a slump-“

“Slump? That’s what you call this? I lost the love of my life, Kirishima. This isn’t a fucking slump.” Bakugou said a little louder this time.

“She’s not gone, Bakugou.” Kirishima said trying to reassure his friend.

“But she’s not here either,” the blonde said as he chewed on his lip. “…look, whatever it is you want from me, I can’t give you. Not until Y/N is back at home, here, with me, safe and alive.”

“I know you feel that way man, but you can’t keep living like this. It’s not good for you. You at least need to get out of your house.” Kirishima said with his hand on the door as Bakugou tried to shut it. The blonde narrowed his eyes at his best friend before Kirishima spoke up again. “We can go wherever you wanna go and do whatever you wanna do, you just gotta get out of this house. Please.”

As Katsuki thought about it, he took a deep sigh before speaking. “Tonight at Hiro’s?”

“Dude, you wanna go to a bar-“

“It’s a club. Better than a bar, better drinks.” Bakugou corrected.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna hit the gym or maybe go to an actual restaurant or something?” Kirishima said, trying to steer his friend clear of alcohol.

“If you want me out of my house, then we go where I wanna go. No exceptions.” Bakugou said with a stern voice. Kirishima thought about it and sighed before giving in.

“Fine. But first, you gotta clean yourself up.” The red head said. The blonde nodded before going to shut his door, only to be interrupted by his friend once again. “With a little help from your best buds.”

As Kiri pushed the door open even more, Kaminari and Sero showed their faces that held kind smiles that only made Katsuki seethe. “No fucking way. This isn’t some girl’s trip and we aren’t doing makeovers.”

“Nobody said anything about a makeover, we’re just gonna help clean ya’ up Kacchan!” Denki smiled.

“I’m a grown man, I don’t need help cleaning up.” Bakugou said with a growl.

“Tell that to your stubble, messy hair, eye bags, and stench.” Sero began. “Seriously man, you smell like liquor and weed. You’re lucky you got that caramel thing going on to save you…barely.”

Before he knew it, his friends had pushed him into his house and quickly directed him to the bathroom. They did a full treatment. Forced him into the shower and made him soak in a tub of scented soaps and bath additions as they cleaned his house. Once they were done they had picked out a clean outfit for him before working on his face. They shaved his stubble, cleaned up his cut, put some eye cream on his bags, gave him some breath spray and changed out a few of his piercings. The full treatment. And when they showed Bakugou the new old him, he couldn’t deny he felt a little better. At least, before they stepped into his room again and he saw a few pictures of you. That’s when the slump in his shoulder returned.

Seeing this, his friends were quick to take him out of the house and head to Hiro’s. Walking in, they sat at the bar, ordered some food and a few drinks, and did whatever they could to keep Bakugou’s mind off of you. And for most of the night, it worked! Bakugou was laughing again, smiling, being his old self. But that’s when Denki decided to risk it.

“We doing shots or what?” The electric blonde asked. Kirishima gave him a look as he spoke.

“Uh, let’s go light on the liquor tonight. We don’t need shots to have a good time, right?” Kirishima said. Bakugou looked at him and chuckled.

“It’s nice of you to look out for me, Shitty hair, but I got this. Trust me.” Bakugou said with a small smile.

“I don’t know, man.” Kirishima said with a pout.

“Don’t be a pussy, Kirishima.” Kaminari smirked. That’s when all of Kiri’s friends, even Bakugou, began to egg him on. Of course, he gave in. Why not? What’s the worst that could happen? Bakugou gets drunk? He’s already been drunk before, nothing too crazy could happen, right?

Wrong. Shots were being downed and the 4 friends were losing themselves. The music was blasting, the lights were blinding, and the friends were…everywhere! Kirishima was probably puking his guts out in the bathroom, Sero and Kaminari were drunk on the dance floor, leaving Bakugou drunk at the bar by himself. Bad idea. The poor blonde was looking at his phone going through pictures of you and him together. He already missed you like crazy when he was sober, now that he’s drunk, that missing has hit full throttle. And then he caught the eye of a snake.

She walked up to the pro-hero with full confidence as she took a seat next to him. “Dynamight.”

Bakugou looked up from his phone with a scowl and blush from the alcohol. “Do I fucking know you?”

“No but-“

“Then get lost.” He said and downed another sip of his whiskey. The woman smirked at his crude behavior.

“Feisty. I like that about you, you know. Always playing hard to get.” She said with a seductive tone.

“I’m not playing hard to get, I’m playing impossible to get because I’m married,” he said and showed his wedding ring. “Happily.”

“You don’t seem too happy right now mister hero. My name’s Leiko..and if you want..I could help take away your troubles.” She offered with a smile as she leaned forward, making sure to expose a little more cleavage than necessary.

“My wife is better than just some quick fuck, so no thanks.” Bakugou said, still not taking his eyes off her, trying to scare her away with a glare that unfortunately she only smirked at.

“Who said I was trying to fuck? Why don’t you talk to me? Vent. Rant. It won’t get your mind off of your wife but it will help clear your head.” She said.

“And why the hell do you think I’m having issues with my wife?!” He asked with a tense voice.

“I walked over here and you were staring down at pictures of her on your phone. Miss H/N is beautiful. You’re a very lucky man.” Leiko said, playing the role of a snake perfectly.

“…I am..” Bakugou agreed before swallowing a gulp. “I’m Uh…I’m not having issues with her or anything. And we’re not fighting either. She’s just..been in the hospital recovering from a battle..I just miss her…”

He didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or if Leiko was just that good at pretending to be nice or both, but for whatever reason she made it easy to clear his mind. She listened well, never putting any input in. She let him speak freely and only spoke up when he looked at her in expectance to. In the moment..she was being a good friend. She allowed him to vent all he wanted about you, about how much he missed you and loves you. And by the end of the night, Katsuki could feel his chest feel a little lighter.

They didn’t sleep together but Leiko left an impression on his drunk self for sure. Maybe even him as a person. He’d remember her as ‘that one nice lady from the club.’ But that was until a few days later when she reached out to him on social media. Leiko was a perfect snake. Knowing exactly what she wanted and exactly how to get it. They spoke for some time online, casual conversations. Most times, it was Leiko asking about you and if you were okay. This went on for some time until their conversations changed. Leiko casually threw in a little flirt every now and then, Katsuki saw and held no reply for it, but didn’t stop her from doing so. Leiko seemed like a good friend. A good way to air out his emotions and issues. So despite her pushy and flirtatious nature, he kept her around. Solely as a friend.

Soon enough, Leiko offered to meet in person once more. At the same club they first met in. ‘Why not?’ Katsuki thought. He had nothing else to do. And so he went. Then he went again. And again. And again. The two became ‘friends’ and Katsuki even brought her back into your shared home where they shared even more drinks. Eventually, the use of marijuana came into play and now the two were cross faded. At least one of them was. Leiko was smart and sneaky. She took less drinks, didn’t inhale the smoke, and basically remained sober. She was in complete control, unlike the blonde hero who sat on the couch beside her. He was now upset and hurt as he thought about you.

“I-..I just miss her so damn much..it fucking hurts at this point.” He said with a whimper in his voice. Being so vulnerable, Leiko took her chance and slid in.

“Well..there’s always one way to take your mind off of harsh things like this.” She softly said with a hand in his lap. She leaned in and Bakugou made no move to stop her and allowed her to continue. She pressed his lips against his and despite it not being reciprocated the first time, she still pushed with it. Katsuki didn’t enjoy it all that much or at all. It was different, it was new, it wasn’t you. It didn’t feel like home. Her lips weren’t soft, they weren’t as plump, they didn’t have the same sweet and addicting taste you did but in a way..Katsuki felt it was what he needed. Her kiss wasn’t like yours. In fact, it was the complete opposite and he hated it. But it didn’t resemble you. When Leiko kissed him, it didn’t remind him of you, and that’s what he thought he needed. So despite not liking the kiss, when she pulled away, he pulled her back. Eventually the kiss grew more intense until it was brought to the bedroom where their night continued in a more sinful manner.

That morning, Katsuki made Leiko leave, angered at what she tricked him into and ashamed of his betrayal. How could he do that to you?! His love of over a decade! When Leiko was gone, Katsuki allowed himself to break down his walls and cry. He cried so hard that morning, more than he’s ever cried before. That morning made him realize his third regret.

Leiko and Katsuki never spoke again..until some days later when Katsuki allowed himself to become extremely drunk once more. He fell into his obsessive thoughts of you and felt the pain come again. Wanting to erase the hurt, he reached out to Leiko and asked her to come over and distract him again. He needed to feel something that wasn’t you. And so Leiko happily went over that night. And a few more nights because Katsuki felt the pain again for a few more nights. As Leiko kept going, she noticed the house loss more and more touches of you. Katsuki flipped his pictures of you in his bedroom so that they wouldn’t see his nights of betrayal and he moved his clothes out of your shared closet so he wouldn’t be reminded and hit with your addicting scent that lingered on your clothes. Leiko smiled, feeling like a victor as Katsuki slept beside her in your bed on your side. The two would have quite a surprise in the morning.

—

Katsuki was awake and was still feeling the shame. He didn’t like sleeping around with Leiko but he liked the way it distracted him from his painful thoughts of you. Every morning after a night spent with her was the same. The two would wake up, she would put on one of his shirts despite his protests and get ready in his bathroom as he sat in the living room downstairs. But this morning had a little surprise twist.

As Katsuki sat in the living room with his head down, the doorbell rung. Growling in annoyance at one of his friends’ presence, he reluctantly went to open the door with a sour mood. “WHAT?!”

“Umm, excuse me. Who the fuck do you think you are talking to your wife like that?” You asked with attitude. As Katsuki adjusted his eyes to the light and his ears caught the sound of his favorite song, his eyes widened and his smile rose.

“Y-Y/N?” He asked in complete shock. He saw you alive, healthy, smiling, looking naturally beautiful right in front of him.

“Missed me, Suki?” You asked with a giggle. Bakugou pushed the door open to pull you in for the tightest hug as he lifted you off the ground.

“YOU’RE BACK!” He cried out. He held you tight and shut the door with his foot as he dropped onto the couch with you on top of him. He held you close to him as he cried into your neck. “You’re really back! Fuck- I missed you so much Y/N! I fucking love you- I’ve been a mess without you..shit!”

His tears were everlasting as they fell from his ruby eyes that you missed so much. You smiled as you wiped them away with your thumbs and the soft touch he’s craved and missed so much. You pecked his nose to calm him down as you allowed your hands to get lost in his blonde hair. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here, Suki. I’m back.”

Katsuki still held tears in his eyes and was shaking in happiness as you remained oh so close, giving him the warmth he needed after so many months. “Tell me you love me, Y/N.”

“I love you Bakugou Katsuki.” You happily said. Your husband teared up once more, so happy he was able to hear those words from you again, before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. A kiss that brought him back to life. He took in your scent and the way you tasted illegally sweet. He let his hands roam your body in a loving way until they found way into your soft H/C locks, trying to bring your head closer to his despite your lips already being in contact. You pulled away with him chasing after your lips, needing to push him back a little to allow yourself to breath. “Relax Suki.”

He scoffed at that. “Relax? I just got you back, you’re not calling the shots today princess, that’s all me.”

You both have a little laugh as you tucked in to cuddle for a small time. He missed this. This is what he needed. This is what he’s been dying for. To have you back in his arms, alive, healthy, and present. He needed this for so long and now that he has it, he feels whole again. After spending some cuddle minutes on the couch, you rose up in need for a glass of water. As you tried to walk away, Katsuki tugged on your arm to try and bring you back to him, only to have you calm him down. “I’m just getting some water, Suki.”

He reluctantly let you go, allowing himself to smile like an idiot, glad to be around you again. As you searched for a glass in the cabin, that’s when Bakugou detected the sound of someone turning the shower off. And that’s when his eyes popped. His betrayal to you. The multiple times he betrayed your love and literal proof of it standing in his shared home with you. That’s when he began to silently panic. You were gonna find out. You were gonna find out he had been acting like a sleeze behind your back and you were gonna be pissed. Heartbroken. Downright furious and you had every right to be, but Katsuki wouldn’t allow it. He knew once you found out, you would leave again. But you can’t leave! He just got you back! You’re not allowed to leave when you finally came back to him. He’s finally happy again because you’re back! You can’t leave now!

“Hey, Baby, don’t you wanna see your friends?” Katsuki asked as he walked over to you. You had finished your glass and placed it down on the island when your husband came over asking an absurd question.

“Suki, they were all there when I left the hospital. They were the ones who bought me these new clothes. Aren’t they cute?” You asked with the smile he loved oh so much.

“Uh- yeah, yeah they look amazing on you Teddy Bear. Umm..if they were all with you, why didn’t they tell me you were coming back home?” He asked as you wrapped your arms around his neck and his went right to home on your waist.

“I wanted to surprise you!” You giggled. “How’d I do?”

“Really fucking good, you little dumbass. But why don’t we get some fresh air? Yeah?” He said as he tried pulling you to the door.

“What why? I was just out there.” You said as you stopped in your tracks. “Besides, I heard you didn’t visit me much in the hospital ya’ big meanie. I wanna spend as much time with you as I can.”

“I was gone because I couldn’t stand to see you like that, baby.” He said with a whimper.

“Yeah I figured. Which is why I’m not too mad, but you still gotta make it up to me with cuddles, so let’s go!” You said and tried pulling him in the direction of your bedroom but he planted his feet into the ground.

“We can still spend time together outside the house, Teddy Bear,” Katsuki said enthusiastically, trying to keep you away from the room that for sure reeked of sex and held scattered clothes of his own and another woman’s.

“But I want to spend time at home with you,” you pouted. Bakugou felt his heart melt at the cute face you pulled and brought you closer to him.

“I know, I wanna spend time with you too but I’ve been in the house for so long, I think I need to get out of here.” The blonde said while being aware and on the lookout for Leiko.

“Well I’ve been out of the house for so long and I know I need to be in it. Besides, as your previously injured wife, what I say goes.” You said with sass and a smile. Katsuki laughed, loving your little attitude but still worried of what you may find out.

“Baby please, can we just go?” He begged as he held your soft hands in his.

“Why are you so adamant on leaving, Suki?” You asked

“That’s because he doesn’t want you to find out about me.”

Your body jumped at the sound of a new voice and you looked at Katsuki’s face, noticing it scrunching in fear, before you turned around to find another woman wearing nothing but Katsuki’s shirt. The same shirt you’ve worn a thousand times over. You could feel your heart clenching in pain but you stood your ground no less.

“Who are you?” You asked as you dropped your hands from your husband’s. You heard his little whine at the loss of your touch as he reached out to hold into your arm but you gently pushed him off.

“Y/N-“

“Oh come on, H/N. Don’t be in denial. I bet you already have an exact idea on who I am.” Leiko said with a smirk as she looked at you. You turned to your husband with raised brows and a face of anger as you glared at him. You looked back at her and bit your lip before smiling.

“Were you in it for the long haul?” You asked Leiko, wondering if she really wanted Katsuki or if she was just getting pleasure out of this.

“Definitely not. I just came for a quick fuck every now and then. Wanted to get a feel of what it was like getting dicked down by a big shot pro-hero.” She said casually.

“Did you know he was married?” You asked.

“Yeah but he didn’t seem to care so neither did I.” She said. This made your blood boil a bit and you wanted to cry so damn bad, but you refused to allow your whore of a husband and this stranger to see you break. You huffed before smiling again.

“You can take your leave now.” You kindly said. Leiko looked at you in confusion.

“You’re not mad?” She asked. Katsuki had the same thought running through his mind as his heart raced at this conversation happening right here right now.

“Oh I’m furious. But am I really supposed to be mad at some stranger who’s content with being a home wrecker? ‘Cuz I feel like most of my anger should be directed to the man-whore behind me.” You said, never looking Katsuki’s way.

“Y/N, please-“

“I’m not speaking to you yet.” You said calmly, still not looking at him. You didn’t have to turn around to know there were tears in your husband’s eyes. Leiko smiled before standing a little taller.

“Well then, I’ll be taking my leave,” she said and took off the big shirt and throwing it onto the couch, leaving herself in her underwear. “Am I expected to be back for another visit?”

“You can come back as many times as Katsuki asks. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a single man again.” You said with a laugh.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Katsuki asked with a break in his voice. Leiko laughed too before nodding and walking back to the bedroom and gathering her things. You walked silently to sit on the couch with Katsuki following you. “Y/N, what the fuck do you mean I’m single. I’m still your husband!”

You remained silent as you looked at him with a sarcastic smile. You said nothing as you waited for Leiko to return. “Say something!”

Finally, Leiko walked down the stairs, fully dressed, and looked to you before taking her leave. You smiled at her before speaking. “So..I don’t want him anymore. Do you?”

“No I’m good. Anybody’s good for a fuck but I don’t date cheaters.” Leiko said with her hand on the knob.

“I’m not a fucking cheater!” Katsuki shouted at her as he had tears dripping down his face. She gave him a dry laugh before opening the door.

“Take a look around Bakugou. You’re not a cheater?” She asked before walking out and shutting the door, leaving the two of you in the broken home. Silence passed and all that could be heard was Katsuki’s shaky breath. You then stood up, gaining his attention, and tried walking to your bedroom before Katsuki stopped you by holding onto your arm. Tight.

“Where the fuck are you going, Y/N?” He asked as he cried angrily. You tried to shake him off of you to no avail.

“I’m leaving you fucking idiot. If you haven’t noticed, you cheated. You were disloyal. You allowed some stranger into our home, into our bed, just to get your dick wet.” You said with an angry but calm tone.

“She wasn’t a stranger.” Bakugou said trying to defend himself. You laughed and stepped to face him.

“Oh really? Tell me one damn thing you know about her.” You asked. As Katsuki thought about it..he really didn’t know anything about her. Fuck- he didn’t even know her family name. All he knew was that her name was Leiko. They were speaking for a month and in that entire month, Katsuki only ever talked about himself. She never gave up any information about herself. All she wanted to do was get to know Katsuki and get in his pants. She really was a stranger and he just tossed away his entire relationship for some whore. His silence gave you your answer. “That’s what I thought.”

You tried walking away again before he ran to stand in front of you. “Y/N! Please! Just listen, okay? I was depressed because you were gone!”

“And that’s your excuse for cheating on me?!” You shouted.

“No! But- but it hurt me to even think about you in that hospital bed! I couldn’t even face you without feeling like I was dying! And then that fucking snake came and she distracted me and kept my thoughts away from you. She kept the pain away. I know that that’s not excuse for what I did but please try to understand why I did it!” He begged as he cried.

“I will never understand! Because I could never do what you did! If you were in the hospital, close to death, I would’ve been by your side every second of every day! Yes I would’ve felt all the pain and depression you did but I wouldn’t want to distract myself from it! Because at least then I would be thinking about you, and worrying about you, and caring about you, and loving you because you’re my husband Katsuki! I wouldn’t ever want to not think about you!” You shouted in anger and hurt as you allowed a few tears to fall. This urged Katsuki to cup your face in his hands and wipe away your tears.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Please, can we just move pass this? Please.” He said softly as he pressed his forehead to your own before you shoved him off.

“Get away from me!” You shouted, breaking his heart as he stumbled back. “After everything we’ve been through, you go and do this to me?! AFTER EVERYTHING?!”

“IM SORRY! PLEASE! I CAN’T TAKE BACK WHAT I DID BUT YOU HAVE TO FORGIVE ME!” He shouted back.

“WHO THE FUCK SAYS I HAVE TO FORGIVE YOU, BAKUGOU?!” You said, emphasizing the use of his family name. The name that you also held.

“Don’t call me that, baby, please.” He whimpered.

“DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT BAKUGOU! WE’RE DONE!” You shouted and walked away to your room with him following you. He kept spewing apologies up until you opened the bedroom door. It was a horrible mess and the stench of sex filled the air. You covered your mouth and nose as tears pricked your eyes before walking in to open your closet, disappointed as you noticed all the pictures of you two were flipped to be hidden. When you opened the doors, you didn’t find your clothes. “Where the fuck is my stuff, Bakugou.”

“I’m not telling you because you’re not leaving me, Y/N!” He said as he tried to hug you from behind before you pushed him off again.

“I’m not staying here! Tell me where my stuff is so I can leave!” You demanded.

“Like hell I will! We haven’t even had a full talk about this! You can’t just leave!” He said. You watched as tears fell down his face which only made you even more angry. He was crying? He did this! This is all his fault! How can he be the one upset?! “Y/N please, I’ll get on my fucking knees and beg you to stay if it’s what it takes but you can’t go! We’ve been together for 13 years! 13! Even before UA-“

“And you threw all that away when you decided to sleep with someone else.” You said calmly. You walked out of the room in search for your clothes as he followed and continued to speak with sobs breaking apart his sentences.

“Y/N please! I- I can fix this! You don’t have to go! You can stay and we can be happy, just like we’ve always been! Just like we were a few minutes ago before that bitch walked in and ruined everything!” He cried making you turn around in a snap.

“She didn’t ruin anything Katsuki. When you allowed her to come into your life and into our home, that’s when you fucked up. You did this to us. You ruined everything.” You said before continuing your search.

“T-Tell me what you want Y/N! I’ll make it happen! I’ll do anything- I’ll give you the fucking world! As long as you stay!” He begged. You approached the guest room in silence and Bakugou grew frantic as he blocked you from going in. “Please- don’t.”

“All my stuff is in there, isn’t it?” You asked, already knowing the answer and only having it confirmed when he remained silent. “Get out of my way.”

Bakugou shook his head as he kept the door block as you tried to pry your way through. Growing frustrated, you used a small amount of your quirk to blast him through the door, having him groan in pain as he hit the floor and watched you find your clothes in the guest room closet. You began packing your things and Bakugou was quick to stand and take everything you put in your bag out. “Stop it!”

“No! You’re staying with me! You’re not leaving me Y/N- I won’t lose you again!” He said as he tossed your bag across the room. You watched it go and stood in disbelief at his childish antics.

“Heh, you know what? Whatever, keep all the clothes. Maybe you’ll gift it to the next girl you decide to bring back here.” You said with attitude.

“I’m not bringing anybody else through those doors! I ONLY WANT YOU Y/N!” He shouted.

“Doubtful. Keep it, burn it, regift it, I don’t care. With my salary I can buy myself a new wardrobe and a new apartment. Far. Away. From you.” You said and walked out of the room. As you tried to exit the house, Katsuki pulled you back into his arms as you struggled in his grip with your face smushed against his chest.

“Please! Please tell me what you want! I’ll do anything! I’ll buy you anything! We’ll do whatever you want- Y/N I’ll even quit my job! Just please don’t go! Please forgive me!” He cried before you harshly pushed him off to reveal your sobbing face.

“I WANT TO LEAVE! BECAUSE I DONT WANT THIS ANYMORE KATSUKI!” You shouted before wiping your eyes and bringing your voice down. “I wanted my husband there with me at the hospital! I wanted him to be the first face that I saw when I woke up! But you couldn’t even give me that! Instead, you were in our home in our bed with some random person you found wherever having sex with her despite the fact that you’re a married man! …I was in a fucking hospital fighting for my life and my husband was too busy cheating on me, trying not to think about me…..I want to leave Katsuki.”

“….I can’t let you do that Y/N…I’m sorry. But I can’t do this without you.” He cried as you listed all his shortcomings. “I’ll give you whatever-“

“I don’t want material things!” You shouted in exhaustion. “I wanted your loyalty and love!”

“And you have that!”

“We wouldn’t be in this situation if I did!” You said. “I’m leaving, Katsuki. And not you or anybody else in this fucking world is going to stop me. If you try and trap me here I will break down these walls myself and get out. If you force me to stay I will do whatever it takes to get away from you. I’m not staying with you. So we’re done. And we’re getting a divorce, whether you like it or not.”

As you walked to the door you could hear his heart breaking cries as you opened the exit. “Y/N please. I don’t want this, I waited months for you to come home to me…I need you.”

“When are you gonna realize Katsuki? This is your fault. You did this to us.”

And with that, you shut the door on the house, the home, the relationship, and him. And it was all his fault.

A/N: Y’all ima be writing a part 2 for this so stay tuned

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan @is-this-ash @iris-shihabi @sxturn-stars @isolight @lanantoine @whatdidshesayyy @kiranogareru

[krakenartificer]

When I got my ADHD diagnosis, I looked at the questions on the screening form and thought, "If this result comes back positive, then I'm definitely not the only person in my family who has it." Questions like

"Have difficulty finishing one activity before starting another one" and

"I finish others' sentences before they can finish it themselves" and

"have trouble staying on one topic when talking"

...I thought were just weird quirks of my family, but no. When I got my results, I contacted my cousin, and she contacted her sisters and mother, and .. .. yeah. Basically everyone in my dad's side of the family is ADHD.

Now there are some problems with that, obviously, (getting family reunions to stick to a schedule is lol no) but there are some really fantastic perks. For one thing, no one in that family minds if I interrupt them while they're talking ... everyone's happy to keep 3 conversations going at the same time .... and no one minds if you fidget constantly.

But the best perk -- at least that I've found so far -- is that all of our parents have coping mechanisms, and passed them on to us. When I found myself unable to handle tasks with more than one step, my father didn't say "WTF are you talking about? It's easy! Just do the thing! Stop being lazy!" No, he could relate completely, and he sat down and taught me how to handle that.

So today, I'm going to pass on to you the coping mechanism my dad taught me for handling the "cannot put tasks in order / cannot get started / forget what I'm doing" problem. You'll need to adjust it for your own needs and your own struggles, but hopefully it'll be helpful in setting up your own process.

I'm going to walk through it with a big project I'm doing at work, just to have a concrete example. That will make some of the discussion specific to computer programming and technical writing, but I do the same thing for all my projects, so hopefully it'll be generalizable.

So to set the stage:

I was supposed to modify this piece of code -- we'll call it "Rosetta" -- to make it handle call data as well as what it was already doing. I did that.... but we now need the code to be able to handle calls (if that's wanted) but also to be able to handle NOT having calls (if THAT'S wanted).

Which is just .... ugh. So much. SOOOOOOOO much.

So. Break it down.

Step one is to get some recording mechanism - pen and paper, whiteboard, blank computer document, whatever

(Technically, this is a different coping strategy, so we'll just take a quick detour: WRITE THINGS DOWN. Your brain is shit at remembering things, and anyway you've already got limits on your working memory; why would you choose to tie up some of that limited resource in something that could be accomplished with literal stone-age technology? Don't even try to remember things. WRITE THEM DOWN.)

I like sticky notes: they're readily available in all offices, they're pretty cheap, and (most importantly) they can be rearranged if it turns out that I forgot a step or put the steps in the wrong order (which, like, let's be honest, I am definitely going to do). But they kill trees and create unnecessary methane emissions, so I've recently switched over to using virtual sticky notes. That's the format I'm going to use for this example, but you can use anything that meets your purposes.

So, you've got something to write with, you're ready to start.

The first question is: what are you trying to accomplish here? What would "done" look like? What is our goal?

I need to end up with a version of Rosetta that will make the correct results if you don't want calls, and will also make the correct results if you do.

The goal here is that you end up with a statement that you can definitively say (a) Yes this is what I wanted or (b)No this is not right because _______

In this case, in order to do that, I'll need to define "correct results" for both call- and non-call versions. But if I have that nailed down, then this statement meets that criterion: I'll be able to say "Yes, this is what I wanted: see, it makes the correct result for calls, and it makes the correct result for not-calls". Or else I'll be able to say, "No, this is wrong: see, it makes the correct result for calls, but on not-calls it does X and we wanted Y."

I have a clear, definitive standard about what I need to do and whether or not I've done it.

But there was a prerequisite there: I need to define "correct results".

So that goes on a sticky note: Create test that will compare my results to existing call!Rosetta-results and to existing not-call!Rosetta-results.

[ID: Two blue boxes, one on top of the other. The top one says in white text "Create test to compare my results to call!results" The bottom one says "Create test to compare my results to not-call!results"] OK. So now we know what we want. The second question is: what do we need to do in order to get that? Here's where the sticky-note recording system really shines, because you don't have to answer this question sequentially. You just start writing down every single thing that is not the way you want it to end up.

I need it to remove commas in the python script, not the bash script

I need to delete the first part of the get_runs() function, which doesn't do anything

I need to delete the rest of the parameters passed to build_query_script() function, because runs encompasses all the others

while we're on that subject, runs doesn't even need the group_variable, so let's pull that out of the parameter document

we also have a dmf defined, which the bash script demands but doesn't use; let's change that demand

since we're changing the structure of the parameter document, we don't need to pull new metrics for each run, so let's move that outside of the runs() loop and only run once

right now the parameter document is ALMOST but not quite "one row per template". Make it so it's actually one row per template.

among other things, that's going to require making it possible for a template to be followed by nothing at all, since it's the assumption that a template will have a metrics block after it that makes it not quite one row per template. So make it possible to publish a template with a null block

the other thing that's weirdly hard-coded is the definition of what a block looks like. Would it make more sense to separate that out into an input file, like the parameters document? On the one hand, that would make it much more flexible; on the other hand, that's another piece that can break. Don't know. Put a question mark on it.

etc

Here's what it looks like at the end of this step:

[ID: A black and white background showing many boxes in two different shades of blue, all with white text. Some of the boxes are overlapping each other.]

As you can see, at this phase you don't need to worry about any of the following:

ordering the tasks. Just stick 'em right on top of each other for now

how you're going to do any of this. Right now we just need to know what, not how

sticking to only one project. As I was working on this, it occurred to me that this whole process would have been a heck of a lot easier if someone had just made a user manual for this, and since I have to go through all the code line-by-line anyway, I might as well write up the documentation while I'm at it. (To help out future-me, if nothing else.) So I put those tasks on another color of sticky note.

making notes that make any ***ing sense to anyone else. This process is for you, and only you need to understand what you're talking about it. Phrase it in ways that make sense to your brain, and to hell with anyone else.

on that topic, also don't worry about making steps that are "too small" or "too dumb" to write down. This is for you. If "save document" feels like a step to you, then write it down.

You also don't need to get every single step involved in the project right now. Get as many as you can, to be sure, but the process is designed on the assumption that you ARE going to forget important steps, and is designed to handle that.

When you can't think of any more steps, then the third question is: what order does it make sense to do these in? Are there any steps that would be easier if you did another step first? Are there any that literally cannot be done unless another step is complete?

This is also a good place to group steps if they fit together nicely. When I used physical sticky notes, I used two different sizes; digitally I can of course make them whatever size I want.

So I have several documentation steps that (a) do need to be written to make sense to other people and (b) I really need to know what's going on before I can do that. I could write them now, but if I did, I'd just end up re-writing them based on things that change as I'm coding. So we'll move those to the end:

[ID: Three dark blue boxes with white text. They read "Create step-by-step instructions for creating your own metric agg", "Create step-by-step instructions for modifying a metric", "Create step-by-step instructions for modifying a query."]

These parts, though -- if I had all the variable structures written down, I could look at them while I'm coding. Then I won't have to keep scrolling back and forth in the code, trying to remember if it's an array or a dictionary while also trying to remember what part of the code I was working on. Brilliant. Move that to the front.

[ID: Seven dark blue boxes with white text, three large, four small. The first one is large and says "Write up explanation of how Rosetta works." The second one is large and says "Document structure of all variables." Attached to that one are four smaller boxes that say "All_blocks", "Runs", "metric", "New_block". The third large one says "Document what qb_parameters.csv contains"]

Also, while I'm at it, I should get the list of variables I need to document -- then I won't have to keep scrolling to find them. Make those sub-steps.

I definitely keep needing to look up what's in the parameters document, so I should write that down, too. For the user manual I also should write down what's in the metric document, but I don't need that for myself, so I can send that to the end.

[ID: The same three dark blue boxes from two screenshots ago (create step-by-step instructions for metric agg, modifying a metric, and modifying a query), now with another dark blue box in front of them with white text that says "Document what granular_metrics.tsv contains."]

These five are all small steps, and are all related in that they don't actually (hopefully) change the functionality of the code; they're just stuff left over from prior versions of this code. So we can lump them all together.

[ID: Five light blue boxes with white text that say "Delete first part of get_runs()", "Have build_query_script only receive the "run" parameter" "Delete dmf" "Move metrics=get_metrics() outside build_all_blocks (all the way up to the top level?" "Delete group_variable from qp_parameters"]

My brain likes this better, so that I can keep track of fewer "main steps", but that's just a peculiarity of me -- you should lump and split however you prefer to make this process easier for you.

[ID: The same five boxes from the prior screenshot, now all made smaller and attached to a larger box that says "Remove Legacy Code"]

Keep going, step by step, sticky by sticky, until you've got them in order. If -- while you're doing this -- you remember another thing you need to do, write it on a sticky and slap it on the pile; you don't have to stop what you're doing to deal with it, because it's written down and it's on the pile and it will get processed; you can just keep working on the thing you're on right now.

[ID: All the same boxes from the first screenshot, now in a neat row. Some of the original boxes have been grouped together. The ones that were said to be at the beginning of the process are on the left and the ones that were said to be at the end are on the right.]

Step four: for the love of all that's holy, SAVE THIS LIST.

Write it on your cubicle whiteboard where it won't be erased

write it on a piece of paper and tape it to the office wall

send an email to yourself

take a picture with your phone

I don't care but save it.

When I used physical sticky notes, I kept them all on the hood of my cubicle's shelf. Now, as you can see, I use Powerpoint, which is irritating af but does allow me to keep everything in a single document, which I can write down the path of.

[ID: White text on a black background says "open ~/Documents/Rosetta\ Modifications\ and \Documentation.pptx" The next line says "Notes in Rocketbook pg 10-12, 16" The next line says "Turn that into documentation that can be used for making modifications."]

And now (finally) you can answer the question "How would I even get started on that?" You look at the first thing on the list, and you treat it as its own project. You can hyperfocus on this step and completely forget about everything else this project requires, because everything you need to remember for the rest of it is written down.

If, as you're working a step, you think of something else you need to do for the big project, write it on a sticky and slap it on the pile. Don't even worry about trying to order it or identify sub-steps; as long as it's not blocking the thing you need to work on right now, you don't have to care. Just stick that bugger anywhere at all on the list, and go back to what you were doing. When you un-hyperfocus and come back to look at your list, there'll be a big sticky note stuck sideways across all the rest of the steps, and you'll remember to file and order it then.

Other benefits of this system

1) The first question really helps with unclear directions from your boss. You can take whatever they told you to do, and translate it into a requirement that is clearly either met or not-met, and then run it back by the boss.

If they say, "No, no, we want ______" then phew! You just saved a huge miscommunication and weeks of wasted work! What a good employee you are! What an excellent team player with strong communication skills!

If they say "Yes, that's what I want," then you know -- for sure -- what it is you're trying to accomplish. Your anxiety is reduced, and your boss thinks you're super-conscientious.

(And if your boss is a jerk who likes to move the goalposts and blame it on their subordinates, then have this conversation over email, so you can show it to their boss or to HR should it become necessary.)

2) Having this project map means that when you spend an hour staring at the requirements and trying to figure out how to get started (which, let's be honest, you were definitely going to do anyway) ... When your boss/coworker comes by and says, "How's it going?" Instead of having to say "I haven't even started 😞" You can say, "Pretty well! I've got all the steps mapped out and am getting ready to start on implementation!" and show them your list, and they think you're very organized and meticulous. 3) Sometimes, especially in corporate jobs, you and your coworkers will run into a problem that's too big for even Neurotypicals to hold all in their heads. At that point, the NTs will be completely lost -- they've never had to develop a way to handle projects they can't just look at and know how to get started. So then you pipe up in the meeting and say, "OK, well, what exactly are we trying to accomplish?" and everybody at the conference table looks at you like you're a goddamned genius and you don't have to tell them that you use this exact same process to remember how to make a sandwich 😅

4) Having this project map makes it so much easier to stop work and then start it up again later, but this post is already really really really long, so I'm going to address that in a separate (really really long) post.

[twistedmusings]

Yandere prompt 21 with Azul please? Congratulations on 400!! (:

A/N: I do not know why I enjoy writing Azul so mean. The Octavinelle chapter showed him going from capitalistic business man to underwater crybaby and I have never been more hooked into a character in my life. Like yes he can be charming and charismatic but the moment he gets into baby mode he is a rather verbally abusive yandere, in my opinion. 

Azul Ashengrotto 

“What do you want?” 

Azul tightened the grip on his quill as you glared at him, your hands bound together by golden string as you sat pretty in the love seat across from him. His hand relaxed as he kept writing the terms of the shoddily made contract, the spelling mistakes and run on sentences being ignored in favor of finishing it as soon as possible. 

“If you have to ask me then you really don’t know the severity of your situation.” 

Today. It was happening today. 

That useless headmaster had somehow succeeded in finding a portal back to your world and had so jovially mentioned how you were all cleared to go back to your wretched world today. 

But not if he could help it. 

Azul almost felt bad about tricking you like this. Although he guessed that he should have started feeling bad when he first thought of the idea. 

After you had used Kingscholar to null all of his contracts, Azul had gained a new respect for you. A respect that slowly turned to affection and then quickly molded itself into obsession. At first he thought it was love, and he guessed that in some sense there was a hint of love in his desire for you, but the overwhelming feeling of want erased any possible romantic endeavors he might have pursued. 

You. Impossible, magicless, kind you. 

Why could you do no wrong in his eyes? You weren’t particularly smart nor did you have any talent that he could profit from. But the months went on and his eyes slowly opened to the appeal that you held behind that normal exterior. 

You were kind. 

To someone who had to undergo the jeers and the taunts of his classmates for all of his elementary school life, this was like handing the secret of success to the poorest man on the street. 

He had tested it too, just how far you could go with this kindness of yours. 

Azul would knock the books of your hands by ‘accident’, hit the back of your legs with his cane by ‘accident, one time he managed to get away with burning your hand on one of the stoves in the Monstro Lounge kitchen. You had cried out in pain (he had saved the sound for later use) and had immediately turned to him for some sort of spell that would at least lessen the burn. 

He, of course, had immediately apologized and told you that this is why you shouldn’t be placing your hand on whatever surface you see fit. You never knew what could hurt you. And instead of yelling at him for turning the stove on or for not even looking where your hand was placed before turning it on, you had just sniffled and smiled as you forgave him and cleared him of any fault. 

That as your first mistake. Surely you were kind but kind people never made it in the world. 

Which is why you should be nothing but grateful to him as he drafts this contract for you.

If this was any other situation this would be pretty normal, you had him draft contracts for you all the time. You would ask for simple favors here and there and Azul would make sure that the price you would pay was either small favors  or just some moments of your time. The terms were short and sweet, simple that even a child could understand them. 

And that simplicity had lulled you into a false sense of confidence. Enough for Azul to trap you with nothing but words and legalities. 

The lost contract you had signed held a hidden clause, one you hadn’t even bothered to look at due to how ‘simple’ his contracts with you tended to be. 

[Should the claimant find a way back to their world and have the intent to go back, the terms agreed upon in this contract will be considered null and void and the claimant will report to Azul Ashengrotto immediately.] 

A part of him regretted not being there for when Crowley broke the news to you. How had the headmaster reacted when gold strings appeared in your wrists before forcefully pushing them together while your feet led you straight to Octavinelle. 

His hand shook as he kept writing, biting his bottom lip as he tried to drown out your questions. 

“Azul just talk to me! I’m not supposed to be here right now, Crowley said--”

“I know what that mongrel said, Prefect, the contract wouldn’t have activated if you two were just talking about trivial things.” 

Sky blue eyes look up at you. 

“I’m surprised the idiot found a way to get you back home.” 

Your surprise was rather welcome, another expression he hadn’t seen you make in a while. 

“Then...if you know...” you bite your bottom lip before moving your bound hands side to side, “If you know then let me go! I have completed the terms to all of your contracts, you signing off on each one!”

He puts a hand over his face, laughing as you continued to speak. 

You still weren’t getting it. 

“The portal only lasts 24 hours, if I don’t go to the Mirror Chamber now its strength will slowly start to melt away!” 

Come on, open your eyes! Can’t you see what he is doing? 

“Azul I need to leave! You can’t just keep me here I haven’t done anything against you!” 

You were trying to leave! That was the only offense he needed to take action. 

“Azul!” 

Shut up. Shut up! 

“What could you possibly want from me!” 

“YOU!” 

The quill in his hand breaks as he slams it on the ground, glaring at you as he grabs your bound wrists and makes you stand up to look at him face to face. 

“All I want is you.” his expression softens as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “All I ever wanted was you.” 

His eyes darken before he picks up another quill and thrusts it into your bound hands, the sharp point break skin inside your palms. The contract he had drafted up was probably filled with nothing but ramblings about how you were now supposed to stay only by his side, be kind only to him and to never ever EVER mention your world ever again lest he starts truly punishing you for breaking an agreement. 

But it was a completed contract nonetheless. A piece of paper that he would guard with his life because it was the only thing keeping you here with him. 

“Now.” Azul grinned as he places the piece of paper down and presses a kiss against your forehead, the tip of the quill pressing onto the parchment as he slowly led your hands into signing your name, “Let’s go tell Crowley that you won’t be needing that silly mirror after all, okay? Who knows? I might just lose control and break it myself~”

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Sacrifice Part 6.5: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: The start of your lessons with Yuta begin on a rocky foundation.

wc: 1.1k

tw: none

masterlist

“Gakuganji is not General Commissioner by chance,” Yuta begins, sitting down at the long table in the expansive (e-x-p-a-n-s-i-v-e) library and lacing his fingers together. “He made a bargain with the god of death, and every year, he pays the price of murdering the Dragon God’s sister by giving up a maiden.”

“How can a man kill a god?” you wonder, and Yuta stands, retrieving a book from a shelf. He slides the small volume toward you and you catch it before it slides off of the table, dusting your hands over the worn cover. There are no words, just pictures, and various men and women are painted within.

“You’ll find your lover on the tenth page.” You flip to the designated picture, and you see the visage of a man standing atop a wounded demon - his foot is at its neck and his hand is holding a halberd right above the demon’s head. “Now tell me what you see.”

The person is obviously Geto, but the thing beneath him… you can’t identify it as anything other than a demon. “It’s the Dragon God,” you answer, and Yuta shrugs, nodding. “And a demon.”

“This demon tormented my realm for seven years. Your Dragon God - at the time, a mere human hero - slew it for me.”

“A human hero?” you look up from the colors and see Yuta’s face change from passive to confident.

“I awarded him godship and immortality when he completed this task for me.”

“But his sister…”

“Was still human,” Yuta confirms. “And was betrothed to Gakuganji at the time, who also tried to slay the demon, but failed.”

“So, why would he kill the sister of a God?”

“Revenge,” Yuta whispers, standing and walking back to pick up the book. “But this offended me greatly. Your General Commissioner then made a deal with Toji in exchange for her life. And then he burned my temple to the ground since I made Geto a god. Therefore, you have no rain.”

“But why the sacrifices?”

“Another bargain. Gakuganji can’t be General Commissioner over a bunch of dead people.”

“So, what happens when he dies? How will the bargains be fulfilled then?”

“That’s where you come in,” Yuta explains, wrapping his hand around the back of the chair. “If Gakuganji is killed and his soul is delivered to me, I can render the bargain between him and Toji null and void, as well as the one between him and Geto.” You finger the pages thoughtfully, holding the book close and staring at Geto’s face once more.

“I’ll do it,” you reply, your village coming back to the forefront of your mind.

“It won’t be easy,” Yuta warns. “But I’ll make sure you have all the tools necessary to make everything right.”

_____________________________________________________________

Blood rushes to your face at the sight of the garment on you in the mirror. The attendant, an older woman who looks to be in her mid-thirties, smiles at you through the veil she wears, draping the sheer fabric around your shoulders.

“For dinner tonight, His Graciousness has requested you wear this.” This was bordering on the obscene, you realize, and stare at your barely covered chest, which is semi-visible through the outfit.

“His Graciousness knows I am spoken for,” you retort, eyeing the woman angrily, but she continues with her smile, opening the door to your rooms with elegance. You walk into the hallway, wondering why you were so indecently exposed to someone who claimed to want to help you. But all thoughts are lost when Yuta reappears, eyes roaming over your body underneath the outfit.

“It looks good on you,” he muses, then turns around, walking away from you. You follow him into the dining room, which is much smaller than the one at Geto’s temple. “You’re probably used to more lavish surroundings, huh?” You only nod in response, taking your place at the only table in the room. Yuta does so as well, and when he sits, food instantly arrives out of the kitchen, carried by three male attendants. But they only serve Yuta, then disappear back into the kitchen. You wonder what has happened to your food halfway through the meal, as Yuta is devouring his food.

“Do I get to eat?” you wonder, but Yuta doesn’t answer you. Instead, he changes the subject.

“What days are the full and new moon this month?”

“I… I don’t know,” you answer warily.

“Hm.” He eats another bite of his dumplings, smacking loudly. “And the solstice this year is on the…”

“Twenty-second, I think,” you reply, hoping this confident answer would bring you a plate of food.

“You think?” Yuta wipes his mouth and swallows a swig of his wine. “It’s not good for women to think.” You push back your chair and stand, fully offended.

“What’s gotten into you? Has the sight of my chest and body rendered you a useless dolt?” As you make your exit, you hear a deep chuckle.

“Patience, y/n. First, you must learn patience. You failed today. Let’s try again tomorrow.”

_____________________________________________________________

As you consume your plate of food, you stare out into the setting sun. For a second, you wonder what Clymenestra is doing, but a flash of white brings you out of your thoughts. And then, tumbling through the open window comes Gojo, his hair ruffled and eyes searching around the room for you.

You stand in shock, dropping the rest of your food to the floor as Gojo stands, laughing and rearranging his hair. “Y/n!” He approaches you gleefully, then whips a piece of paper out of his robes. “From your Dragon God.” You take the paper and unfold it, letting multiple red flower petals fall to the ground.

“A letter,” you muse, reading the words with mild difficulty.

Dearest y/n,

I hope this letter finds you safely. It’s hard to say which was worse: watching you leave with Yuta, or realizing I’d have to spend seven whole days dep-

“D-e-p-r-i-v-e-d?”

“Deprived,” Gojo answers, lounging in a chair by the window with your dropped dessert making its way into his mouth.

deprived of your presence. I will have Gojo deliver letters to you every day, so you’re still practicing your reading in the meantime. Write back to me when you get this and tell me how things are going. I look forward to reading the words that come from your mind and your heart.

Sinc-

“S-i-n-c-e-r-e-l-y?”

“Sincerely.”

Sincerely and yours truly,

Suguru

“If you need a pen and paper, I have some.” Gojo holds up a stack of paper and a feather pen, and you take them eagerly, sitting down at the vanity and beginning to write down the events of the day. With Gojo’s spelling help, of course.

"How do you spell patience?"

"P-a-t-i-e-n-c-e."

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @sunfloweroranges @jibe-gajima @jotazinha @brownskinnedgirll @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9 @fuegy-fuegy @ambiguous-something @kontentious@missbonekitty @fyotituti @honouredsatoru @sandyscastle @flare-on @sasahime @ggotgame @just4readingfics

[palbabor-writes]

Look Upon the Light

(Chapter 8: Terrify)

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, angst, general melancholy 

Word Count: 7765

“I know who you are.”

Shigaraki lifts your console up, turning it this way and that, ignoring your declaration. “The facing got knocked off,” he states, his four fingered grasp lifting it up for you to see. His eyes catch yours, the crimson ensnaring you. “I don’t think it’s going to fit back on. Lucky you, you don’t really need it to operate the machine.”

His pinky comes down against the plastic, joining the rest of his finger pads. The plating is gone in an instant, dissolving into a fine dust and drifting to the mats beneath Shigaraki’s feet.

Moving to Japan has been an absolutely terrible life choice.

Notes: Not beta edited, so any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. 

Chapter 1: Encounter || Chapter 2: Observe || Chapter 3: Hello || Chapter 4: Intoxicate || Chapter 5: Taste || Chapter 6: Teeth || Chapter 7: Polaroid ||

Terrify  ter·ri·fy /ˈterəˌfī/ verb cause to feel extreme fear.

In hindsight, you should have known. It was too quiet. 

The moments that stretched between Tomura’s visits narrowed and shrank. You’d come to expect him whenever you walked into your living room, your bedroom, your kitchen. He stuck to your ribs, pulled at you, wordlessly asking you to stay close. You’d wake to his warmth, his touch, the reds and whites blurring together. 

Despite these moments of tranquility, he was tense. Thrumming with an energy that made you shake. 

It was dangerous. 

But, you’d always known that, even if you pretended that the tiger at your door was as gentle as a kitten. Something was closing in. It felt like the calm before a storm, the air pulling back and pushing forward, misting over the pliant ground. 

Neither of you acknowledged it. 

Like the best ghost, it only made its presence known in the chill of pre-dawn. Slipping over your sleeping bodies and seeping into your skin, slowly tarnishing, rusting out. 

You wake one morning to see Tomura leaning over you. He isn’t touching and is barely breathing, his exhales coming out in little puffs of air. His eyes rake over you like coals, smoldering as they set you aflame. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, voice heavy with sleep. He doesn’t answer, just continues his silent introspection. There it is again, that creeping sensation that’s been nagging at you. You don’t question him further. Instead, you roll toward him, pressing your cold hands into his warmth. 

Something unspoken has been drifting above the two of you for weeks. You knew that you could give it a voice. But, you were unsure if he could. You wanted to tell him about it, to make it solid by speaking it into existence, but you didn’t know how he would react to your declaration. And provoking an unknown reaction out of Tomura was never a wise move. 

Did you even need it to be said when you’d already accepted it as fact? You loved him. 

And, he loved you. You knew that, you’d never doubted that. His walls had come crumbling down with yours and Tomura was nothing if not passionate and possessive. He couldn’t help himself. He might disguise it as something else, tell himself that it was another thing he was entitled to, but you knew the truth. You clutched at it, keeping it safe, holding it to you so he could never tear it away. Even if he left, even if you never saw him again, you would keep that small piece of him. 

You could feel that love when he came to you like this. He would soften, his voice and touches lingering, tender. He wouldn’t let you go. Insisting that you hold onto him, that you come to him. He was at his most desperate in these moments. 

Running your hands along his bare legs you look back up at his face. He is leaning closer, practically bent in half as his hair trails against you. 

“Come here,” you whisper, arms lifting to pull against his neck. He doesn’t resist and you tug him back to you, trying to leech some of his warmth. He lays his head against your breasts, his low breathing making you shiver. Your hands tangle in his white hair, cascading the tendrils against your palms. 

His eyes finally drift closed as the sun peeks playfully against your curtains. You should get up, but you can’t bring yourself to leave him alone in the bed. Burrowing against his slackened form, you fall blissfully into sleep, content to let your whirling anxieties still. 

******

It was the little things that tripped the two of you up. 

He’d been careful, and you’d been protective of his presence, keeping your movements to a minimum. But, it had always been a matter of time. He wasn’t infallible and you, well, you couldn’t stop time. 

At first, the extra patrols made you feel at ease, especially when you were returning to your apartment late. There was a new hero in the area and she seemed determined to make a name for herself. Although you had never run into her, the shops and local papers were chock full of her name. She had brought along two sidekicks, kids really, but between the three of them, the crime rates had steadily decreased. 

Then, you remembered what Tomura had told you once, “Guess this prefecture isn’t important enough for any hero to deem it worth their while…I doubt anyone will notice a villain respawning in the vicinity.” Now, the patrols just made you jumpy and you couldn’t help but worry for him each time he stepped out your door.  

Tomura became even more inscrutable as the days wore on. He was practically seething, a deep rage bubbling over him and tipping, spreading. It tainted his voice, his movements. However, he was careful to not take his brittle aggression out on you. 

No, he was never rough with you, at least, unless you wanted him to be. But, that was a different sort of dynamism he would retreat into. And it was one that you welcomed. Often, it could pull him from the brink of his restlessness.  

Even with the distractions, Tomura was still on edge. He’d always worn his emotions in his eyes and body language. You could map every inch of him now and that power never brought reassurance. You didn’t question his anger. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you just knew that it was a part of him. It sat against his heart, beating in tandem with the muscle. But, it wasn’t his budding aggression that set things in motion. 

Instead, something more insidious crept in. 

******

A knock at your door startles you, your pen dragging against the drafting paper, an unseemly line etched across the design. Shit. You look at your phone. Although Tomura didn’t text every time he came by, he usually kept his travels to and from your apartment to odd hours, like pre-dawn, or the dead of night. According to your device, it’s just after noon. No, something isn’t right…

The knocking comes again, louder, insistent. 

You stand, gulping down your shaking nerves. It could be nothing, you tell yourself as you walk to the door, your feet padding against the wood, just calm down, (Y/N). 

Two men stand outside your doorway. They are wearing professional, dark suits and they look like bad fucking news. 

“Miss (L/N)?” the shorter one asks, removing his hat and bowing to you. 

“Y-yes,” you stammer, your heart beating tightly against your chest. 

“I’m Detective Ito and this is Detective Yamashita,” he gestures briefly to the taller man, who gives you a cursory bow. “Sorry to bother you during the work day, but we have a few questions for you. Do you mind if we come in?” his voice is liquid and you distrust it immediately. 

“Right now? I’m in the middle of a project, is there any way I can get a card and possibly meet with you later?” You try to make yourself stand up straight, projecting a calming lull over your tone. Come on, (Y/N), you’re not bothered by this, if anything you’ve been preparing for this. Handle them and don’t let anything slip, you have nothing to hide. Except for the villain who haunts your bed. No, don’t think that. You’ve got this...  

“I’m sorry Miss (L/N),” the taller gentlemen, Detective Yamashita, presses, stepping toward you. “It can’t. This concerns some delicate information and we need to make sure we can clear you. While you’re not being accused of anything,” he amends, catching sight of your narrowed eyes, “we do need to make sure we’re covering our bases.” 

“And my rights as an American citizen?” you press, holding your ground. You have a feeling it will be a null point, but it’s worth a shot. 

“I’m afraid your visa doesn’t grant you any special privileges. Now, I’ll ask you again, may we come in? Or, do we need to come back with something a little more…stringent?” He lets the final word hang, a warning. Detective Yamashita is clearly playing the role of bad cop in this little interrogation, that’s not an interrogation. Yeah, right.

You pause, biting your lip, thinking. If you push back, then you might find yourself in more hot water, besides, as far as you can tell, you aren’t under arrest. That means they don’t have anything concrete, for the time being.

You bow, “I apologize gentlemen, I don’t mean to be rude, I just don’t understand what two detectives could possibly want to question me about. Please, come in.” 

They seem placated by this response and follow you into your living room. You offer them a seat on your couch and bring your work stool around to sit in front of them, hands folded in your lap. Here’s hoping the demure act will work in your favor…

“It’s no problem Miss (Y/N), I know you haven’t been in Japan long. I’m sure it’s unsettling to see us. Now, before we proceed, would you please show us your U.S. passport, work visa and residence card?” 

You nod, keeping your face neutral as you gather your paperwork, holding them out to Detective Ito, who takes a small flashlight to them, scanning for any forgeries. Satisfied, he hands them back, a small smile on his lips. Still doing that good cop routine, you think irritatedly, tossing the papers on your media stand. 

“We’ve heard that you’ve found a boyfriend while you’ve been here,” detective Yamashita pries, crossing his legs and leaning toward you. “Where is he?” 

“Not sure I’d call him that, he’s more of an acquaintance. He lives in another city,” you lie. Keep things simple and to the point, don’t supply anything you don’t mean to. 

“Which one?” 

“Esuha City,” you reply, keeping your eyes on the detectives. 

“Your landlady said he has very distinctive features,” Detective Yamashita pauses, writing something down. Then, his eyes lift, waiting. He’s not going to let you slip past this query. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, your head tilting questioningly. 

“She said he had white hair.” 

You tap at your chin, pretending to think. “Oh, I believe he did. He dyes it a lot.” 

“What color is it now?” 

“Not sure, I haven’t seen him in a while.” Well, you think snidely, that one is partially true, it had been about a few days since you’d last seen Tomura. 

“A co-worker of yours, Mr. Suzuki, also mentioned something interesting about your, er, friend,” Detective Ito pipes up, and you arch an eyebrow at him, not answering, holding back. 

“He said that he acted strangely when he came by. Apparently, he was very aggressive. Mr. Suzuki said he felt threatened.” 

It’s really shitty luck that interaction has come back to bite you. “Oh,” you feign remembrance, “well, my co-worker, Mr. Suzuki, had decided to walk into my apartment unannounced and without knocking. Naturally, I thought he might have been a burglar. I’m sure my landlady has told you that my unit has been burglarized before?” 

“She did,” Detective Yamashita replies, his eyes finally drifting away from yours. “While this might be a long shot, we would like for you to look at some pictures.” He snaps open his briefcase and pulls a collection of images out, pressing them into your hands. 

You can feel them both eyeing you carefully as you shift through the images. Some of them are Tomura, some are others, and most are blurry. You lift one curiously. It’s the image of a man standing on a train platform in a dark trench coat. Squinting, you try to see the station name. You can just make out the lettering, Musutafu Station. It’s the one that is close to UA. Taking another look over the others you see the same station tiles, your heart feels like it’s floating away. 

Maybe they really are just checking leads, they do seem a bit bumbling, but that could also be an act. Something that makes you drop your guard, something that could put both you and Tomura in danger. 

“No, I’m sorry. Although,” you tug out one of the pictures that is not Tomura, “this one looks a little familiar. I just can’t think where I’ve seen them before…”

“That’s the League of Villain’s leader,” Detective Ito provides, and Detective Yamashita glares at him, his eyes darkening. 

“Oh! God, is that who you’re looking for?” you ask, eyes wide. 

“We’ve been canvassing the area, asking questions of some of the locals. A girl in downtown Tokyo thought she saw him the other day, like I said, just covering our bases.” Detective Yamashita admits, taking the pictures from you. 

“But, that doesn’t explain how I ended up in your investigation.  Is it because my friend had white hair? I mean, not to be rude, but that feels, vague…”

“Since Shigaraki was seen near the train, we traced other CCTV cameras in the station. We noticed that someone similar to his description was seen exiting at this station, as well as several stops in Tokyo a few months ago. Your, uh, friend, as of now, fits a similar description. We’re just checking the area for anyone who has been in contact with persons similar to Shigaraki.”

“So, no recent sightings?” You opt to ignore that last bit of information, it would make more sense for you to be worried about the bigger picture. 

“It’s terrifying to think that a villain might be lurking around. After the burglary, I really considered moving to another complex. I was hoping that that new hero would turn things around.” You duck your head, trying your best to look flustered and scared. They aren’t hard emotions to reach for, given the circumstances.

“He hasn’t been seen in a while, ma’m, please, don’t worry,” Detective Ito says encouragingly, earning him another glare from Detective Yamashita. 

“I just, I don’t understand something, why talk with my co-worker?” you ask, your voice low. 

They're hiding something. Suzuki could have reported his minor encounter with Tomura to the police, or maybe these men approached him. It was frustrating and frightening. It’s something so small, such a tiny slip in time. You’d honestly forgotten about Suzuki’s visit, so much had happened since then. But now, thanks to Suzuki’s report, there are detectives sitting in your living room. There’s no way you can plausibly deny Tomura’s presence in your apartment. Both Suzuki and the apartment manager had seen him. 

“We have reason to believe that he might have-” Detective Ito is cut off by Detective Yamashita’s throat clearing, a rasping sound that reverberates in your small apartment. You gulp, pulling yourself from your musing, your hands fidgeting in your lap. 

“Ito, please. I’m sorry ma’am, we aren’t able to give that information out at this time. At present, we have no further questions for you Miss (L/N), but, before we go, do you mind if we take a quick look around?”   

“Um, of course,” you smile weakly. What else could you do? The more you resisted, the more suspicious you looked. Your stomach drops as they stand and you feel like you are going to be sick. 

These detectives knew about Tomura, there’s no way they didn’t. They might be checking now, but they’ll be back. And the next time they might not…

No, you can’t think about that right now. Just go along with what they want and get them out of here. You can figure out a plan of action when they’re gone. 

The detectives are already pacing around the rest of the living room when you finally stand from your seat. Thankfully, this part of their investigation should be easy. 

The most Tomura ever kept at your place was the two pairs of sweatpants that you’d bought him and those you can easily explain away. You’d also kept your food purchases to a minimum. Lately, he hadn’t been eating much of anything, so you’d saved on the grocery bill. Thank God for that. 

Overall, your apartment looks like it just housed you. 

The two detectives putter around for a few minutes, opening drawers, examining shelves and closets. They even peek in your bedroom, but Detective Ito had practically closed the door on Detective Yamashita’s nose when he poked into the dark room. The smaller detective shook his head, aghast at the very thought of entering something so feminine and private. And odd reluctance, for a man who called himself a detective. 

Concluding their search, they head back to your front door and you trudge after them, feeling numb.

“Well, Miss (L/N), thank you for your time,” Detective Yamashita bows, followed closely by his compatriot. “If you hear or see anything out of the ordinary, please, don’t hesitate to give us a call. We’d also like to hear from your…friend if he drops by again.” 

“Of course,” you demure, bowing back, praying that this is about to end. 

“Have a pleasant day, we’ll be in touch.” Detective Ito grins and the two men make their way to the next apartment floor, their feet heavy against the carpet. Once your door is shut you fall down into the floor of your genkan, your heart pounding and hands shaking. Oh God, you have to…Wait, should you text him? You’re not using his name on your phone, but what if they’re already tracing it? Can they do that? 

You pull yourself to your feet, your legs wobbly, and drag yourself back to your drafting desk, snatching up your phone. Your fingers tremble as you type in your message. You don’t know if you should put it in some kinda vague, coded wording, or if you should just toss the damn phone out the window and resort to smoke signals. Damn it. 

[You: 1:13 pm]

Hey, some men came over. They were asking questions. 

Well, it certainly doesn’t seem like a vague text, you think, looking over the message and hitting send. No, it looks like it’s screaming that you’re harboring Tomura Shigaraki. You move to your floor, back braced against the wall, waiting. It might be hours before he texts back. But, you didn’t want him coming over and then finding himself immediately captured by the police. 

You bury your face in your hands, a low groan wracking out of your lips. Worst case, he won’t answer at all and all you’d have left of him are memories, not even realizing that they were the last interactions that the two of you would share. 

The sudden vibration of your phone snaps you out of your head, and your hands shake so badly they send the device skittering across your mats. You tumble after it, lifting the screen and breathing a sigh of relief. He answered. 

[Tenko: 1:23 pm]

5-2 Kusunokicho 7-chome

It’s an address. You highlight the text, hit copy, and paste it into the mapping app on your phone. It looks like it’s a tea shop. You stand, legs still trembling, and grab your purse and jacket, heading for your door. You poke your head out, into the hallway, and gather your strength. If you are going to do this, you need to look natural. Besides, if they are following you, hopefully Tomura would know what to do. 

You gulp as you lock your door behind you, a morbid thought jumping into your mind. Well, here’s hoping that knowing what to do didn’t mean killing anyone. 

******

The tea shop is busy. It’s raining, so that might have contributed to the bustle inside the shop. You pull the hood of your jacket higher, trying to shield your face from the freezing droplets. Tomura hadn’t texted again and you didn’t feel like it would be a good idea to ping your location on your phone. 

In fact, you think belatedly, you might as well switch it off. As you power the device down, you hear a low whistle from the alleyway across the narrow street. 

You turn your head slowly, the rain pattering against your face. There is a figure loitering toward the back. It isn’t distinguishable as anything other than dark. Well, fingers crossed you aren’t about to be murdered. 

Splashing across the street you duck down the alleyway, thankful you’d thrown on some heavy boots for this excursion. The figure is stationary and you pause a few feet back, waiting. He lowers his hood, red eyes still focused on the street behind you. You almost run to him. You have to tense your legs to resist the temptation, your nails digging into your palms. 

“Were you followed?” he rasps, watchful, his eyes flashing at you, the street, and finally, back to you. You shake your head. 

You’d taken a route similar to the one you’d transversed when you came to the clinic to drop off the diagram for that prosthetic. Each time you’d switched trains or busses you had discretely studied the faces around you, looking for any repeats, anyone who might be tracking you. You’d even drifted into a few other shops before reaching this street, often ducking out a back door and taking the alleys to the next street over. 

You’d been careful, you just hoped it was enough. 

“This way, stay alert,” Tomura murmurs, his hands still firmly in his pockets. He leads you down another street and into a smaller back alley. He’s doing his own weaving now, taking you over some of the pathways twice, his eyes always peering over his shoulder, observant and sharp. Finally, he pauses in front of a dilapidated door and shoves his way inside. 

“Come on,” he calls back to you, holding the door open, allowing some space for you to slink past him. He follows, yanking the metal closed, sealing you both inside. 

You shrink back against the darkness, your eyes struggling to adjust. You can hear Tomura moving toward you, his breathing a low scratch against the silence. He stops at your side, the warmth of his body close. 

Neither of you move for a time. You’re both listening. The only sounds you can make out is the rain and your own heartbeat. You close your eyes, your head thumping against the door. “God,” you whisper, your voice thick with disuse. 

The sound makes Tomura shift closer, his arms pulling you to him, away from the cold metal. He presses a quick kiss against your temple and tugs you further into the room. 

It looks abjectly barren. 

There’s an old mattress in one corner and a smattering of trash, mostly cans and takeout containers, strewn over the greasy floorboards. It looks like it’s operating as his bedroom and the thought makes your heart squeeze. It’s fucking disgusting. No wonder he used you as a place to crash in the beginning. No human should live like this. 

He flops down to sit on the mattress and pulls you after him. The two of you perch on the uneven surface and you let out a long sigh, overwhelmed. Tomura senses this and doesn’t press you. He lets you catch your breath, welcoming your leaning touch. Once you’ve shaken off your jitters, you begin.

“They were detectives. They said they saw you at a Tokyo station, so they checked CCTV and traced you to the stop by my apartment.” Tomura is silent and you gather your breath to continue. 

“They talked with the landlady and they talked with that idiot coworker of mine, you know, the one who tried to come in the apartment that one night. It was vague shit, I tried my best to ask more than I talked. 

One detective kept trying to get the other to stop telling me details. He finally shut down the whole thing, saying they’d be in touch and for me to give them a call if I saw anything. I…I just hope this doesn’t fuck things up for you, for-for us…I don’t...goddamn it…” You bury your face in your arms, a sob stuttering from you. 

Tomura is quiet, but he pulls you into his lap, arms wrapping around your quaking shoulders.  

******

He isn’t sure what he wants. 

It’s not a sensation he experiences often and he’s finding it hard to grapple with. If he’s thinking selfishly, he would keep you with him. He’d drag you to hell and back if he could. He doesn’t want to give you up and he isn’t even sure if he can. A deep welling of possessiveness had overtaken him. You were his, just as he was yours. 

It was strange to admit that. 

He wanted to break everything to pieces, to decay it into nothingness, but, over the last few months, he’d come to adjust those goals. Not just with you, no, the same leniency applied to this league of his. They should have what they wanted, too. 

So, he let you cry against him. 

He wants to know what giving is like. To tell you that he could give you something of his. After all, he’d stripped you down to nothingness, taking and taking until you had finally lain bare and open in front of him. You’d started the process naturally, giving coming as easily to you as breathing. 

He knew he didn’t want you around the league. 

You were too different, too removed from that sense of desperation and fanatical idealism. And you didn’t deserve it. He doesn’t like seeing you in a place like this, dilapidated and crushed, sobbing against his chest, your warm tears soaking into his skin. 

No, you deserved to be comfortable. You weren’t a fighter. You would try if he asked, he knew you would. But it wasn’t you. Besides, what did you want? 

He would have to let you go. He’d known it from the first moment he’d felt your lips running across his. Still, it had come too soon. Perhaps that could be his gift to you? Letting you settle back into normality. 

******

“What should I do?” You ask him, lifting your head from his chest, eyes puffy and tired. His gaze is clouded, the red murky, unfocused. 

“Whatever you want,” he says, his voice hollow. 

“Tomura,” you admonish, “I...I just don’t want you falling into some trap. Not because of this stupid…I don’t even know what to call it. I thought we were careful...I-I don’t know. I’m just so fucking mad.” 

He smiles at your outburst, his scar lilting up. “What do you want to do?” He presses his forehead against yours, exhaling heavily, waiting for your answer.

“Move,” you reply, tipping your fingers up to trace along his jaw. 

“Then move, it should be easy for you to get back to the U.S.” 

You sigh, pulling your head back. “No, I don’t want to do that. I just mean, move somewhere that’s safe for-” 

“The league is regrouping soon. We’ve caught wind of some…information. It’s going to take us farther out of the city. I was going to tell you tonight. I don’t know how long it will be. Could be months…” He speaks slowly, his voice lulling, soothing you, even as you take in what he’s actually saying. I’m leaving, get out while you can. 

There is a long silence following his announcement, and you lean against him, burying your face against the rough fabric of his trench coat. So, just go home? Go back to the states? There has to be something that you’re not thinking of…

Tomura tilts your face up, craving contact. He runs his rough lips over yours, carefully letting his hands tap over your neck. 

His kiss is light. The fleeting caress makes you press against him, your fingers curling into the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer. You moan when he tilts his head, sliding wetly across your lips. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth and you open, tangling with him. Tomura grunts at your eagerness and his nose bumps yours, his exhaled breath shaky, wanting. 

You sigh. How were you supposed to just say ok? How could you be ok without having him like this? What if you wanted to try and remain at his side...could you ask that of him? What if…wait…wait…that’s it! 

You pull back from him, gasping and he gives you a disgruntled look, a frown creasing his features. “Oh...that’s it! I know what to do!” 

“Keep your voice down,” he reprimands, as you lean back to reach for your purse. You dig in the scattered contents and emerge with a small business card, a beaming smile across your face. 

“Nico! He said to call him if I wanted to take him up on that job offer. He said I could draft for him. He’s at that clinic, and he said they work in a grey area, but they have some serious connections. It’s perfect. It lets me slip away, I’ve just got to be careful how I do it.” 

Tomura snorts at your enthusiasm. “So, you just get a new job and all your troubles go away?” 

“No, I tell my job I’m transferring back to the states and I pack up my apartment. It won’t be the cheapest thing I’ve ever done, but if I can pull it off, then it’s the perfect solution. I can find some place else to live, and slip into a new life, one where you can still come and go.”

He stares, his eyes wide in that childlike manner, the pupils blown. You smile and fling your arms around him, kissing along his neck. He grunts and presses you back, pinning your arms to your sides. 

“Stop squirming,” he growls and you still obediently, not wanting to agitate him. 

“Come on, don’t be like that, Tomura. It could work. At least let me try.” You plead, watching his face, trying to see if you could get a read on him. 

“You actually are insane,” he sighs, rolling his eyes and turning his head to look away from your stare. 

“No, I love you.” 

It just tumbles out, but it’s too late to unring the bell. Besides, you stand by it. 

He freezes underneath you, his head whipping back to yours. His eyes are sharp and his lips are lifted in a deep scowl. It’s an intense look he’s giving you, almost raw, dangerous. It makes your stomach flip, uncertainty pooling in your gut. You find yourself looking away and biting your lip, “I mean it, I-” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else. 

He’s pulling you against him with bruising force, his hands trembling as they press into your skin. He can’t even seem to focus enough to land his lips on yours. He tries again, then stops himself, his face lifting away, but he won’t let you go. 

His arms are wrapped around you, his grip tightening and relaxing. He tries to look at you, but ends up ducking his head once your eyes catch his, burying his face in your neck, panting against your skin. He can’t stay still. No, he’s groaning, so brokenly against you that you’re worried he’s going to shake himself to bits. 

You lift your arms, belatedly, to wrap around his neck. You try to hold him to you, desperate to seep a little reassurance, fuck, a little sanity into his trembling body. Tomura shakes his head at the confinement and shoves you down, against the mattress. 

You squeak as your back hits the musty sheets, but he’s pinning you under him before you can protest. 

“What did you say to me?” he finally snarls, his lips curled over his teeth. “No. I know you didn’t just fucking tell me that. How could you even- How? I’m a monst- I-I...” He can’t string his words together. His head dips to your neck, his lips rough against your skin. He can’t catch his breath and he won’t keep still.

You’re gasping under him, trying to hold him. But, it’s impossible to control him. You just shut your eyes against the emotions that he’s pulling from you and let him seethe above you. 

“Look at me,” he growls, his voice hoarse and ragged. You try to wince your eyes open, but you’re too overwhelmed, you just can’t, you can’t look. 

Why, you think distantly, why can’t you look? 

You tell him you love him and now you can’t look at him? Are you afraid of what you’ll see? Afraid of the rejection that you know is coming? It doesn’t change anything, you tell yourself, even if he tells you to get out, it doesn’t change what’s happened between the two of you. No. If this is what you want, then tell him that. He has to...he has to hear it. 

“Fucking look at me, (Y/N).” 

“T-Tomura,” you try, a tear of frustration, of fear, slipping down your face. “Tomura, I mean it. I lov-” 

“Stop it,” he moans, his breath hot against your cheek, his lips following the path of your tear, pressing the salty wetness away. He’s straddling your hips and his hands are curled, pressing into the bed. 

“Don’t you fucking dare. You don’t mean it. You can’t-” 

“Stop it, Tomura. Just, stop. You think I don’t mean it? How can you say that? After everything we, no, God, how can you fucking say that I don’t love you? When I’m right here, telling you that I do? You don’t get to dictate how I feel. What gives you the right to say that I don’t?” you ask, your voice an angry whisper. You can feel him shaking, his body wracked with his shivers and the realization gives you the courage to open your eyes. Your anger melts away at the sight that greets you. 

He’s hunched over, his hair draped across his face and his eyes are clenched shut. He looks like he’s ready to fall apart. One of his hands lifts to scratch at his neck, dragging red lines down the scarred skin. 

As if they have a mind all their own, your own hands lift, tugging free of his weight to cup around his face. He tries to yank his way out of your grasp but you just tighten your hold. He’s not getting away that easily.  

“Tomura,” you call, keeping his face captive in your hands, forcing him back to you. “Tomura, I love you.” 

He sags. 

His whole body seems to shrink and his eyes finally meet your steely gaze. The red is bright, wild, gleaming in the darkness. You gulp and furrow your brow, a trembling exhale falling from your lips. You have to say it now. There’s no going back. The world is shattering, splintering to pieces above you, but he has to know. Before you lose him, he’s gotta at least know that one thing in this world that he hates so much, cares about him. Fuck, loves him. 

“Sure,” you begin, still gripping your fingertips into the side of his head, slowly slipping up to tug at his hair. “I’m insane. I’ve fallen in love with someone who wants absolutely nothing to do with what I can offer. 

It’s not going to work Tomura, I know it’s not. But, goddamn it, at least let me try. I know I don’t get to keep you, I don’t even know what you’re fucking planning to do. You could want to burn down the world for all I care. I just...I just want to hold on a little longer.” 

He’s slack jawed and his eyes are wide and unfocused. He’s still panting but he’s not fighting against your hold anymore. Finally, he closes his eyes and lowers his head, his forehead coming to rest against yours. 

“Say it again,” he requests, his voice muted, thick with longing. 

“What? The whole thing?” 

He lets out a wheezing laugh and you slowly start to breathe again. 

“You know what I want,” he murmurs. You lift his head from you, tilting until you catch his eyes. 

“I love you, Tomura.” A low shudder echoes up his spine and his eyes drift closed again. 

“Fuck,” he rumbles, tugging his head from your hands. He doesn’t go far. Instead, he flops to his side and drags you over, draping you across him, his arms latching around you, keeping you in place. 

You sigh, relieved, dipping your head against him, feeling for his heartbeat. You’re both quiet and the room stills around you. Your fingers are tracing lazy circles over his crossed arms, careful to avoid his clenched fists. He presses his nose against your hair, inhaling deeply. 

“Stay,” he says above you, his breath stirring across the top of your head.     

You smile against his chest and duck into his warmth. His grip on you tightens, lean muscles coiling, holding you to him. You can feel his lips as they run along the top of your head, tapping soft kisses into your hair.  

Ok, so it’s not the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard, but you wouldn’t have wanted him any other way. 

******

Your new apartment is nothing to sneeze at. Nico hadn’t been joking about that pay raise. He also was so much more than you were expecting. Not in a bad way, just in a, hey, I know some shit just went down, are you ok, kinda way. He didn’t pry, but he’d gone out of his way all the same.

The rest of the team at the clinic has also been absolutely stellar at helping you to get set up. Need something moved? On it! It’s like a big family and you can’t wipe the smile off your face most days.  

As for your old job, they had been disappointed, but they understood why you wanted to get back to America. However, the American side of that job hadn't been so thrilled at your resignation, but you had received a glowing review from your old boss stateside. You liked to pull it up on your new laptop, reading over the words of encouragement and shaking your head at just how seriously you’d taken her advice. 

Your Japanese work buddies were heartbroken, Hanabi most of all. But, you promised to keep in touch. You hadn’t quite figured out how you were going to do that, but that was a problem for another day. 

All in all, things were going to plan. You had asked Nico for a little bit of extra help with the paperwork, explaining some of the details to him, and he had been quick to get you set up with a new passport, visa and residency card. It was like the old you was just a blip. You’d just need to keep your head down for a while, check the news, and see where all the extra precautions took you. It wouldn’t be easy, but what part of life was?

Tomura had stopped by after you finished setting up your new tv and console. Appropriately, he’d said he wanted to try it out and had then proceeded to ignore you while you set up the rest of the room. You didn’t mind. 

The two of you were trying to make the most of the next couple of days. That lead he’d mentioned was somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone. He’d reminded you of that fact, over and over, until you’d finally told him to shut up and let you enjoy the time that you did have with him. 

“Hey,” you call, unboxing the last of your new dishes, “got you something.” He tilts his head toward you, eyes still glued to his game. Rolling your eyes at his inattention, you wander over, leaning over your new couch to wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Pause it,” you demand, dropping a kiss against his temple. He grumbles, but you persist, nibbling on the shell of his ear when he tries to prolong his session. 

“What?” He lifts his head up to look at you, his hair falling back against your arms. 

“I want to give you something,” you reply, pressing your lips to his forehead before unwinding your arms and stepping around the couch. He eyes you suspiciously as you perch on your coffee table. You lift a key up, wagging it beside your face. 

“It’s a key,” you taunt. He smirks and snatches it from you, pocketing it and tugging you forward. 

His kiss is soft, so achingly soft that you melt into his arms immediately, flopping against his lean chest. 

“Stop being so dramatic,” he grumbles, shifting you to a more comfortable position across his lap. Your legs straddle his hips and he holds you against him, his fingers warm against your hips. 

“Can’t say I never got you anything,” you tease, leaning back and grinning down at him. 

“Same,” he huffs, reaching into his pocket again and tossing a small phone at you. You fumble to catch it. He snorts at your scrambling and you pout. 

“It’s not like you’re throwing it at a normal angle or anything.” 

It’s small in your hands, almost obsolete in this modern age. You flip it open and already see a contact programmed in: Tenko Shimura. 

“So you don’t bring any more cops around. It also can’t be traced.” His voice is hushed, almost embarrassed. It makes your heart flutter. 

“Awe, a burner phone. I’ll cherish it always,” you jab and tilt his chin up, so you can keep kissing him. 

******

A low vibrating wakes you. Blearily, you check your phone, only to be greeted with a normal screen, no missed messages or emails. Huh? The vibrating continues and you suddenly realize what it is. Flinging your feet out of bed, you rush to your charger, unhooking the old phone Tomura gave you. 

[Tenko: 2:23 am]

Out of the city. Found a new friend. 

There’s a picture underneath the words and you click the buttons until it lets you highlight and bring up the image. 

It looks like he’s in a forest and you’re shocked he has a signal. But…what the hell is that? 

There’s something nestled between all the greenery and it looks ominously like a man. If it’s real, it’s practically a giant, no, actually hulking would be a better word…

It’s practically a living, hulking mountain. Unsure if your sleepy brain is playing tricks on you, you exit the image, deciding that 2 am is not the time to unpack this particular phenomenon. 

[You: 2:35 am]

Looks, uh, interesting? Be safe & Love you. 

- Fin

Author’s Note:

Ugh, this was such a bittersweet chapter for me. I wrote this fic in its entirety back in the last few weeks of August. I had time before my classes started again and I leapt at the opportunity. In many ways, I identified more and more with the reader insert as I tried to pour out my ideas. I wanted to hold onto this tiny story that I’d outlined, to see if I could make something like this work after such a long break from writing on this scale. 

So, out came Look Upon the Light. 

It was like a fever dream. I couldn’t stop now that I’d started. After I reached the 8th, and final, chapter, I spent the next two months pouring over what I’d written, editing endlessly. I wanted to make things feel just right. 

I went from this bombastic climax to something more subdued. Why not let it be an anticlimactic ending? Life often works that way and sometimes things just, well, end. 

Tomura, in particular, has changed so much over the course of this journey. 

There were days when I felt like he sounded terrible, nothing like the complex character that I loved so much. But, with my sister's wonderful edits and suggestions, main ideas & patience and countless read-reads of the manga, I got a handle on him and I am so proud of how he’s come out.

Canonically, I feel like this gap in the main story is the only time something like this romance could happen to him. Tomura is in a fragile place. For the first time in his life there’s no one looking over his shoulder and he’s become a character who is worlds away from where he started. 

His goals are finally solidifying and he acknowledges that the members of his league deserve to have what they want too. Inside, no matter what has been stripped from him, he’s always been Tenko Shimura: that little boy who wanted to play with the outliers, to make sure that he was letting them feel included too. I indulgently like to think that if someone like the reader existed, their relationship might help him to come to terms with this part of himself. 

Finally, this wouldn’t have been possible without you, dear readers. I have cherished each and every kudo, comment, subscription, like, and reblog. I was so scared to put this out. There are so, so many talented writers for this fandom and I was nervous. It had been so long since I’d written anything on this scale, would it sound ok? You all have been so supportive and welcoming and I love you so much. The response I received from posting this let me feel confident enough to explore some of my other favorite characters. 

So, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I mean it when I say that you all are amazing and I wish each of you so much joy. 

While this won’t be the last time I write for Tomura, there are other facets of his personality that I want to explore, I will wait a bit to do any updates to this story. I want things to catch up and settle within the manga itself before I toss the reader back into Tomura’s life. I do hope that they can come together again, as I have become their biggest fan. 

In the meantime, The Gap in the Door will explore some of their other interactions. Some take place around the time of the chapter Polaroid, but some will look into other parts of the story. If you have a prompt, or want to see another glimpse into anything that happened, let me know. These two are so much fun to write and I enjoy head cannoning how they could fit together. 

In short, thank you again for all you’ve done for me and take care of yourselves.

Tags: @inumorph​, @rekoii​, @diaouranask​, @possum-person​, @akutaguagua​

[spoiler1001]

Glad to know you're open for prompts! *(unfurls a piece of paper)* Okay, one of these says "Caleb tracing Molly's tattoos."

Caleb was good at many things. Spell casting was just his more notable talent. Molly paused. Spell casting was just what Caleb was most famous for, what people who were shallow or not wanting to look deeper would associate with Caleb. Molly knew that his wizard was skilled in many things. He wanted to share none of those skills with others, barely even the nein. Definitely not with the volstruckers. Sure they were trained in many things but to Molly, he was skilled in everything he tried. 

Caleb was Molly's alone, especially for moments like this. Lucien was wrong about many things during his short life and especially about his claim of the wizard. Molly didn't share.

Their whole relationship was a steady rhythm. Push, pull, give, take. Molly purred to himself. This felt right, like he was meant for this. His eye markings were still seared onto his body, but were rendered null and void. Artwork helped form them into more than blemishes on his skin.

Molly, admittedly, had moments of self consciousness. He knew he was of demon blood. He knew that his lavender skin was rare and the strangeness was off putting. He knew that when he smiled his fangs were too big. Caleb never made Molly feel monstrous about himself. Caleb smiled at him and saw the being underneath. 

Caleb saw his dazzle and his showmanship. 

As he mused the two swayed and Caleb ran his thumb over the peacock feathers. Molly turned his head to face Caleb's jaw, the gesture with Caleb's thum facing outwards. Nothing was said between the two as they kept the rhythm. From their closeness Molly could only hear the heartbeats of the two of them. 

Molly moved his hand up Caleb's arm resting over Caleb's own eye mark. Caleb took a sharp breath and ran his fingers over the snake on his arm. 

Caleb took a sharp breath and leaned into the touch. 

This was perfect, a divine communication, a blessed sin. Caleb and Molly seemed  to melt together, becoming one whole instead of two separate beings. Two hearts one pulse. 

Molly almost smiled. This was dangerous. Blood magic was looked down on, besmirched. Labeled the most damning and evil magic out there. That wasn't true. This- what he was feeling was even more dangerous. This could condemn even the most virtuous spell caster. Molly took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Caleb kept his hands on Molly. Always keeping them connected. The world wasn't important to them; no Lucien, no Trent. Just them. 

Caleb swayed his hips against Molly, a smirk on his face. 

"Don't be cocky." Molly lovingly whispered. Caleb's smirk widened. That cockiness was something that heated Molly's blood.

Oh Caleb had Molly wrapped around his little finger. Molly couldn't complain. It was the happiest of endings for him. 

After he came back, everyone was different.

"Your mind is drifting, my friend." Caleb's voice was light, amused. 

Molly blushed. "Its just...everything." 

Caleb hummed and ran his finger over his new tattoo in the center of his chest. 

Orly was a miracle worker. The jagged scar left over from his death was worked into a flower made from diamond and emeralds, and jades and a little bit of any other jem that they could find. There was no magic in this picture, besides Molly's usual magical presence in everything that involves him. The group didn't comment on it but the image as a whole was of a raven surrounded by flowers. This thrice dead body should have a monument to the Raven Queen, Molly decided. It was awkward when the others saw that one, but it was...Orly drew every feather of the bird and every petal. It was so lifelike people almost thought the raven would fly away. 

Caleb ran his thumb over the head of the raven, where the scar was thickest. His hands shook against Molly's skin. 

Molly placed a kiss on Caleb's temple. For everything that they had gone through, moments like this were needed. 

Molly grunted as he had to bring himself back to the reality of what he was doing. He needed to focus on where he was and what he was doing. Maybe constant death was making him sentimental. Maybe he was getting old. Molly was starting to get white strands in his hair, maybe from his constant relationship with death. It matched Caleb's blond and silver strands. 

Molly took a deep breath through his nose. Scented candles filled the air.

Molly felt himself becoming more and more grounded. The silken clothes he was wearing felt soft. How Marion managed to find a one piece with buttons that he could leave open. Caleb himself was wearing a blue suit. Music was playing off to the side, a slow dance with a heavy beat. Perfect to just lose himself in the arms of Caleb. 

The two spun as the song reached the precipice, building towards a final climax. Caleb took a deep breath and dipped Molly. Molly's head was leaning back with his neck and chest arching. Molly's eyes were closed but he could feel Caleb's mouth and stubble pressing over the tattoo. It made Molly shiver. Caleb was so warm. 

Dancing at the Lavish Chateau was the best idea. The area smelled of flowers and good times. The washrooms had soap scents that Molly could only dream of. The beds were heavenly, but Caleb's own bed was Molly's favorite. 

"Your thoughts are elsewhere tonight, Mollymauk." Caleb had said as the two of them made their way to bed in the tower.

"That's my own sentimentality getting the better of me." Molly placed a hand on the eye mark in between Caleb's shoulder blades causing Molly to think about the matching mark on himself; his exit wound.  

Molly purred, trying to comfort Caleb and himself. 

Caleb turned around and cupped Molly's cheek. 

"Mollymauk. I know everything is still so new but-" Caleb's voice was warm. Compassionate. It made Molly happy to hear- but Caleb really needed to know.

"Caleb the only thing really new is me realising that I love you."

[pi-cat000]

Premise: Everyone in the world is born with a Curse (part 2)

Part 1: here

Curse-AU world-building thing: Based of this post by writing-prompt-s

Fandom: Mystery Skulls Animated

Pairings: Lewvithur

... 

“Oh, there he is,” Vivi bumps him, nodding towards a nervous Arthur who slips out from around the makeshift barrier. Lewis frowns, noting how the other man has his arms crossed, body language closed off.  A member of the security catches Arthur before he can head over to them, handing him an official-looking envelope.

“That doesn’t look like it was good news,” He mutters to Vivi and he gets a small nod of agreement. No one else had been given an envelope. Several other bystanders are also eyeing it with undisguised unease. Arthur shuffles up, eyes downcast, fiddling with his wrist band. His other, free hand is holding a semi crumpled piece of paper. Probably containing his Curse description. 

“I got an Orange danger rating…I’m, apparently, a high risk to bystanders,” Arthur mutters, motioning to the envelope, “Or I will be in a year or so…I have a travel pass until then…then ah…travel restrictions and isolation protocols….”

Lewis immediately reaches out, wrapping his arm around the smaller man’s shoulder so he is standing between Arthur and the judgmental eyes following him. With all the attention Vivi had attracted earlier and now this, their group has been given a wide berth so there is an empty circle around it.

“Bullshit.” Vivi snaps, “Uncle Lance has a Yellow rating. Your curse can’t be that different? Right?”

Arthur grimaces and looks conflicted, leaning into him for physical support in a mirror of how he had been leaning into Vivi earlier.

“It’s a variant of it,” Arthur starts, “You know how my Uncle has a higher chance of running into dangerous situations. Well, mine is the same except the situations will involve unnatural, monstrous or spiritual entities…” He trails off, the last few words sounding like a quote probably read off his Curse Certificate.  He sounds both fearful and resigned. Lewis frowns, glancing at Vivi.  Going off her renewed expression of interest, he can see that the relevance of Arthur’s curse hasn’t escaped her.

"Arthur!" She speaks as evenly as possible but her enthusiasm is poorly contained, "You know what this means right?" Arthur, to his credit, does seem somewhat aware of Vivi’s keenness and he waits patiently for her to continue.

"A destiny of hunting monsters and someone who has a higher than average chance of running into monsters? Our Curses are compatible. You know how rare that is!” She slows, “Sure, the danger rating sucks. But, hey, you can get it reassessed later. I know for a fact that they do the initial ratings higher to cover their asses.  Mine was classed as Yellow but I know that’s wrong because both my dad and gran have a Blue rating and it’s the exact same Curse. Hey, we can put in our reassessment forms together. Also, even if you can’t get it lowered, I bet I get you permission to travel once I’m a registered Hunter.”

"It's illegal to hire based on a person’s Curse and Nullification tech is always improving. You could probably get away with asking for off-site or long-distance employment. If the monster hunting thing doesn't work out," Lewis adds just to give some other options, though, going of Arthur’s relieved smile, it’s not needed.

Vivi blushes, calming herself, "Yeah, I mean, the monster-hunting is just one option. I'll get dad to give you some training...and I'll help too,"

Arthur relaxes more against him, "Thanks, guys..."

"I wonder if your Curse type had an effect on my Curse type." Arthur wonders out loud after a brief silence.

Lewis hums, “It is very convenient.” He isn’t too surprised, despite being around for almost 100 years now, Curses still weren’t entirely understood.

"Oh, I wouldn't be surprised,” Vivi elaborates,  “A Curse’s main effect doesn’t hit till your mid-20s but there is plenty of speculation that the more powerful ones are active before that. Destiny Curses are stronger than most. Or maybe it's an effect of your probability curse…I mean, you're more likely to run into a monster if you're dating someone who hunts them."

Arthur and Vivi throw a few more theories around and Lewis relaxes, listening to the two of them become increasingly animated. Now the band-aids off, so to speak, Arthur has calmed considerably. Sure, he is still a bit fidgety and his grip on the envelope is painfully tight, but that’s nothing a home-cooked diner and night relaxing together on the couch won’t go a long way to soothe. Lewis knows the road ahead of them wouldn’t be easy, not by a long shot, but it would be manageable.  Now all he needs is get some mundane Innocuous shoe-lace Curse to finish off the whole experience.

’Lot 65’ The metallic voice is back, calling them to attention again.  Vivi and Arthur glance towards him, Vivi quickly wrapping both him and Arthur in a hug. “Go on. You’ll be fine,” She encourages, pulling away just a quickly.

“Whatever you get we’ll work it out,” Arthur reiterates the advice he had given earlier also pulling back. Lewis can’t but smile at their affection as he turns away.

...

WORLD BUILDING: 

Curse threat ratings:

- Black (Catastrophic Risk): Life threatening to the bearer and catastrophic risk to bystanders. Full travel ban effective immediately. Isolations protocols apply.

- Red (Extreme Risk): Life threatening to the curse bearer, extreme risks to bystanders. Travel restrictions apply. Some isolations protocols apply.

- Orange (High Risk): Extreme risks to curse bearer and high risk to bystanders. Some travel restrictions apply. 

- Yellow (Considerable Risk): High risks to curse bearer and a considerable risk to  bystanders. Some travel restrictions apply. 

- Blue (Moderate Risk):  Considerable risk to the curse bearer and moderate risk to bystanders.  

- Green (Low Risk): Moderate risk to the curse bearer and low risk to bystanders.

- White (Very low Risk): Low risk to curse bearer low or zero risk to bystanders.

- Grey (No Risk): Danger level null. 

(Notes: Ratings are based primarily on the risk Curses pose to bystanders with the Curse bearer being a secondary consideration. The more bystanders considered at risk, the higher the rating. 

Statistics: Percentage approximations. Amount of populous with specific Curse ratings:

- Grey 2% (a rating usually reserved for the rare Curseless individual)

- Green- 40% Blue- 30% White- 10% (most Innocuous Curses would have these ratings) 

- Yellow -10%, Orange - 6%, Red- 2% (Restricted and dangerous Curses. Bad Luck curses would usually get this sort of rating)  

- Black .001% (astronomically rare)

[thehouseoflamentation]

What would MC's first Valentine's Day with the brothers and Diavolo be like?

MC’s First Valentine’s Day with the Boys + Diavolo

(I know I’m super late but just take it ><)

Lucifer

Lucifer isn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve but Valentine’s Day is the perfect occasion for him to show you his romantic side because if you turn him down for whatever reason, he can use the holiday as an excuse for his affectionate behavior.

He wouldn’t make a huge deal out of the holiday. He isn’t really the most lovey-dovey person to begin with, however he would still put in a lot of effort to make your first Valentine’s Day with him special.

He would often try to save face by saying it's all part of the holiday but you can tell by the way he blushes lightly and turns his head when you make eye contact that he’s genuinely excited and a little nervous about spending Valentine’s Day with you.

When asking you to be his valentine he’ll gift you a bouquet of roses he grew himself. He’s rather proud with how his hard work paid off and hopes you appreciate all the effort he put in.

“You’ll be mine, won’t you?”

His words almost sound like an order but its only because he won’t really know what to do if you actually said “no.” His pride will take a pretty big hit and he’ll be sour and grumpy for a while if you turn him down.

If you do say yes though he’ll start the second part of his plan and take you out on a romantic candle lit dinner date. Depending on the mood after that he might invite you to continue the rest of night back at his room.

Mammon

He’s sweating bullets thinking about what he’ll do for your first Valentine’s Day together with him. Should he buy chocolates or would it be better to make them himself? Can he even do that? Maybe a card? No, no that’s too simple. How about flowers? What were your favorites again?

He wants everything to be perfect and ends up spending waaayyyyyy over his budget to make sure he has enough stuff to give you the best Valentine’s Day surprise. Well that is if he even decided to establish a budget in the first place.

Everyone can see him planning for Valentine’s Day from a mile away. He thinks he’s being real discreet despite having huge boxes from Akuzon delivered under his name in preparation for the holiday.

In the end it was actually a good thing that he bought lots of extra materials. His attempt at creating his own homemade chocolate only resulted in burned inedible bits and spilled chocolate mix. Once he got the hang of it he was barely able to make enough for one box.

He also ordered flowers but failed to order them at the right time. They ended up coming about a week earlier than he planned and most of them ended up wilting by the time Valentine’s Day came around. However in the end he was able to make a small bouquet from the flowers that were still good.

His last redeeming gift was the card he made for you. It was simple and his writing wasn’t the neatest considering he kept spacing out while writing it but every word came from his heart.

“Here! Just...just take it!!”

Once he handed you the chocolates, flowers, and card his heart felt like it would burst out of his chest from how nervous he was. If you agreed to be his valentine he wouldn’t be able to control his emotions and would probably start vibrating from sheer excitement.

Leviathan

You haven’t seen Levi leave his room for weeks up until Valentine’s Day. You were worried about him but in reality he had spent all that time binging dating sims and romcom animes in an attempt to plan the perfect Valentine’s Day with you.

In the end he decided to go with something simple, heartfelt, and foolproof. He pulled his hood over his head to hide his blush while he gave you the traditional box of chocolates and flowers however there was something else he saved for last.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to but...here.”

His hands trembled as he handed you a small object covered in pink and red wrapping paper. It was a charm from an obscure anime he watched a couple weeks ago. In the show the protagonist gave his love interest a matching charm so they would always have a little something to remember each other by.

He didn’t expect you to understand the reference but the fact that he was able to convey his feelings for you was enough for him, even if it meant he was only one who knew the true meaning behind the charm….or so he thought.

Once you tore the wrapping covering the charm your eyes immediately lit up. Without skipping a beat you planted a kiss on his cheek and pulled him into a tight hug, thanking him for the charm. After you pulled away he was red from head to toe as he tried to process the fact that you knew exactly what the tiny key chain meant. Oh yeah and fact that YOU KISSED HIM.

It took awhile for Levi to regain his cool after that but he definitely wasn’t complaining. You ended up spending the rest of the day chilling in Levi’s room. Even though it was simple and laid back, you now knew without a doubt how Levi truy felt about you, and that charm hanging off your D.D.D was more than enough proof of that.

Satan

Satan had done some research on the human tradition once news got out that the holiday was just around the corner. He already knew what the celebration was about but he had trouble figuring out what he should do for the occasion. He wanted the day to be special for you but he also didn’t want to overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable. He couldn’t quite choose between two gifts he had in mind so he ultimately decided on giving you both.

His first gift was simple and just as sweet, a small box of chocolates covered in red wrapping paper. The adorable face you made as you happily sampled the candy was more than enough to convince him to continue with his plan.

Phase two! This was actually the most embarrassing gift he had planned for the day so instead of handing it to you he left it in front of your dorm room and sprinted around the corner before you could catch him.

“A kitten for my kitten <3”

Attached to the note was a small cat plush with heart patterns and a pink ribbon tied around its neck. You couldn’t help but giggle and smile at the adorable little thing in front of you. You held it close to your chest before placing it on your bed and moving back towards the doorway.

Satan had been going back and forth about adding the note but from your reaction it seemed he made the right choice. He turned and was about to head back to his room for a bit when he felt your lips suddenly press against the back of his neck.

He may have been the fourth strongest ruler of hell but that fact was rendered null under the tenderness of your surprise thank you kiss. Now he was beet red leaning against the wall for support while trying to comprehend what just happened, not quite how he pictured himself spending Valentines Day but still just as enjoyable.

Asmodeus

Asmo was all too familiar with the traditions of Valentine’s Day. The gifts, the decorations, the feeling of love in the air along with *ahem* less pure emotions made it one of Asmo’s favorite human holidays.

There was no doubt the demon would go overboard with preparations but what should he start with first? Chocolates and flowers were a main staple of Valentine’s Day but giving you something like that would be way too simple and predictable for someone like him. No, no, no. He had to do something special.

He contemplated what would make the perfect gift until he finally settled on something that he knew would be true to himself and also make you happy. In the end he took you on a couples spa day so the two of you could unwind and relax together.

Then after getting pampered for most of the afternoon, Asmo took you to a candle light dinner at Ristorante 6. The place was nearly packed with couples but he managed to pull a few strings to reserve a table away from the rest of the guests with a balcony view of the night sky. The two of you chatted the night away, enjoying the food and each other’s company until it was time to head back to the dorms. But Asmo still wasn’t done.

Inviting you to his room Asmo held out his final present to you much to your confusion. It was just...his wrist with a ribbon tied around it. It felt like some kind of joke but as you untied the ribbon you found that it actually trailed up his arm and wrapped around the rest of his body. An intricate bondage pattern sprawled over his torso leading down the rest of his body hiding just beneath the cover of his clothes. Had he been tied up like this all day? Well at that point you didn’t know and didn’t care. You were far too busy enjoying your last “present” for the day.

Beelzebub

Beel was in quite the predicament. He knew the kinds of gifts people gave each other on Valentine’s Day but he often found it difficult to resist eating what he was supposed to give you. The handmade chocolates he made first were delicious! Perhaps a bit too delicious though as the rest of the batch disappeared in the blink of an eye once Beel sampled a piece to see if it turned out alright.

Well at least now he knew the right measurements for all the ingredients to make a second batch….and a third….and a fourth. He was down to his last ingredients and it was too late to run back to the store and start the process over again so he knew he had to nail this next batch.

This time around he had a special foolproof safeguard to prevent him from eating the chocolates he was going to give you and his name was Belphie. Every time Beel looked like he was about to have another taste Belphie poked him in the side and reminded him that the chocolates were meant to be a gift. The plan almost worked until Belphie fell asleep on the kitchen counter.

Soon after, Beel’s eyes started to focus on the bowl of chocolate again. His hands subconsciously whisked the sweet mixture faster and faster as his train of thought drifted away. All he could do was continue stirring while fighting back his urge to sample the chocolate again. He was so consumed in what he was doing he didn’t even notice you slip through the kitchen doors.

“Hey Beel! Whatcha up to?”

Your sudden voice and presence made the bowl slip right out of his grasp, flying forward as the chocolate covered the both of you. “I-I….umm….sorry. The chocolates were supposed to be a surprise gift but....” His eyes stared at the floor in embarrassment. This was definitely worse than getting you nothing for Valentine's Day. Beel reached for a small towel to wipe the mix off but ever the opportunist your hand stopped him.

“You know...it would be a shame to let all this go to waste. After all, I didn’t get a chance to taste any yet and I’m sure you haven’t had your fill either, right?”

Beel only nodded in response to your offer, effortlessly picking you up bridal style before heading back to his room.

Belphegor

Belphegor didn’t hate Valentine’s Day but he also wasn’t exactly fond of it. The pressure to buy your partner the perfect gift was often daunting and took some of the fun out of actually choosing a gift. Still that didn’t deter him from trying to find you something awesome for the occasion.

He ended up skipping his morning nap to search nearby stores for anything he thought you might like. Chocolates and flowers were standard but a classic so he ended up buying a box and bouquet for you.

He was just about to exit the store when something else caught his eye. It was something he knew HE would like but he wasn’t so sure what the extra details were for. Well it was cute enough and the two of you could use it together so why not?

After coming back from RAD that afternoon you made your way back to Belphie’s room. You usually stayed with him to nap and cuddle since he often missed you when you had to go to class. This time however, he had a surprise waiting for you.

Handing over the box of chocolates and flowers you immediately lit up and threw your hands around Belphie. He returned your embrace happily before handing you a gift bag with the final present inside. It was a heart shaped pillow with the words YES embroidered on the front and NO on the back.

“Wow Belphie this is.... really thoughtful!!! Thank you!!”

You tried to hide the blush that was spreading across your face. Belphie's innocent smile made you wonder if he truly understood the meaning of that pillow. Did he actually know what it meant and gave it to you as an invitation? Or did he genuinely think it was just a cute pillow? You will never know.

Diavolo

Diavolo gladly embraced human traditions and Valentine’s Day was no exception. He had events planned for the entire day, both for RAD and for you. Since you helped him plan some of the festivities the night before, you ended up staying at the demon lord’s castle for the night. The following morning you woke up to the smell of fresh pancakes, eggs, bacon, and all the fixings.

At first you figured Barbatos had made the food but as you turned to Diavolo and saw the glint of excitement in his eyes as you took your first bite you knew instantly that he was behind this. The food was delicious with most of it also being somehow heart shaped.

Once breakfast was finished the two of you got dressed and headed off to class. Attending RAD during Valentine’s Day was definitely surreal. The gothic halls and classrooms were decorated with pink and red hearts, flowers, and ribbons. You had to admit it was a rather cute homage to the human holiday.

After classes ended, you went back to the demon lord’s palace. Diavolo had requested you to meet him again but gave little to no detail as to why. You suspected it had something to do with Valentine’s Day and prepared yourself accordingly however nothing could prepare you for the surprise that was just behind the castle doors.

Once you entered the main hall you were greeted with hundreds upon hundreds of roses decorating the walls and an eager Diavolo barely able to hold in his excitement. You remember he said he had important plans for the day but you never expected something like this. Even though he already made you breakfast he didn’t want the day to end on a simple, unmemorable note so he made sure to give you something special to remember your first Valentine’s Day together with him.

[ilonga]

avatar au anidala snippet

posting it separately for organization purposes!

featuring sixteen-year-olds anakin and padme and first kisses:

“That has got to be one of the stupidest things we’ve ever done in our lives.” Anakin said, still shaking from the adrenaline. The two of them collapsed against a tree. It seemed like they’d lost their pursuers, at least.

“It would have been worth it,” Padme grumbled, “if we had gotten the Spirit Scroll. But you’re not allowed to complain about doing stupid things. Ever.”

“Hey--that’s not fair!”

“Really? Whose fault was the incident with the Buffalo Yak?”

“I thought,” Anakin said through gritted teeth, feeling a flush of embarrassment, “that we agreed never to mention that again.”

“We also agreed we’d stop sneaking out after bandits, so I figure any of our agreements are null and void at this point.”

Fine. He had been planning on showing it to Padme earlier, but just for that one, he was going to make her wait.

“It’s not like it matters.” Padme sighed, and his irritation faded away, replaced by some instinctive need to comfort her. “We didn’t even get the scroll. I mean, I’m grateful we made it out of there in one piece but look how much good that did us--Anakin Skywalker--” she said suddenly, donning her ‘Representative’ voice that had Anakin instinctively straightening, “--is that what I think it is--”

“Representative Naberrie,” he said, trying and failing not to sound too satisfied, fishing the inconspicuous roll of paper from where he’d stashed it in his robes. “I have good news for you.”

“You got the scroll!”

He tried to bite down his grin. It didn’t work. “I got the scroll.”

“Why, you--” Padme let out a euphoric, disbelieving laugh, grinning widely, and threw her arms around him.

Then she kissed him and Anakin’s world stuttered to a halt.

Oh.

Oh.

This was nice.

She pulled away quickly.

Before Anakin could catch his bearings, Padme was stuttering out apologies.

“Sorry,” she said, sounding the least composed he’d ever heard her, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I know you don’t even like me that way--ugh, that was so stupid of me--”

“Padme,” he interrupts, feeling as if he could walk on the clouds themselves, “Padme, I’ve had a crush on you since I was eleven.”

Padme whipped her head around to look at him. “What?”

Then, again, “What?”

“If you’re pulling my leg right now, Anakin, I swear to Raava--”

“--don’t you dare try to pin this one on me, Padme. You were the one who insisted for years that you could never possibly like me in that way.”

That had Padme snapping her mouth shut. Her eyes widened and she bit down on her lip to combat the slowly widening smile.

“Oh,” she said, cheeks faintly pink, “oh, I did do that, didn’t I? Oh,” she glanced up at Anakin with a look that was half sheepish, half amused, “my mama’s gonna hold this one over me forever.”

He poked her in the side. “I’m gonna hold it over you forever too.”

Padme scoffed. “No, you’re not. You’re too nice. But,” and now she looked mischievous again, “there is something you can do.”

“What’s that?”

In response, she pulled him into a kiss.

All Anakin could really think was that it was even better than their first. After that, his brain seemed to turn to mush. If Obi-wan could see him now, he’d probably be leaning on a tree for support as he broke down laughing.

Eventually, they pulled apart, and he vaguely noted that Padme had never looked prettier.

“You know what, Anakin Skywalker?” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder, “I think I do like you, after all.”

[deathnotesecretexchange]

Title: Gift Exchange

From: @anakien

To: @user-null

Prompt: Mello & Near gift exchange without the other knowing

Word Count: ~3,800 words

A/N: Hi! I hope you enjoy this! :)

Mello will never admit it, but he's always liked Christmas.

He has fuzzy memories from being a kid, long before he was ever brought to Wammy's. On Christmas Eve, he attended church services with his mother. He remembers kneeling with her in the pews, clutching her rosary, and listening to her sing.

He can't picture her face anymore, but he remembers her there.

Christmas at Wammy's is different. Wammy's is always lighter, somehow. The place is decorated, all lights and trees and little ugly snowflake decorations up on the walls. Roger takes a carload to the nearest church for the Christmas Eve service, though Mello no longer goes. The chefs bake more, laying out plates of cookies and other spiced holiday desserts. And though all of the kids are too intelligent to truly believe in Santa, Watari's and L's Santa traps are kind of fun (though, as always, it's only a test for the successor path).

But Mello's favorite part of Christmas might be the gift exchange they do every year. Some of the older kids started it several years ago, X, Y, and Z, but every year the tradition continues.

This year, Linda begged and begged until the others let her organize the exchange. They pile into one of the empty classrooms after dinner, the others buzzing with excitement. Even Matt looks relatively excited, his GameBoy ever-present but sitting paused in his lap.

Even that little twit Near is around, sitting quietly in the corner. He meets Near's gaze and holds it for a moment. Near doesn't look happy really, but there's still something akin to excitement in his gaze.

Mello doesn't let that curb his good mood, his own excitement still bubbling in his belly. He turns away, back to Matt, and shoves him to go put their names in the hat.

Linda yells at everyone to settle down, hands on her hips. She trots around the room, waving the hat under everyone's nose.

Matt draws his slip first, and then Mello grabs his, under Linda's watchful eyes.

He leans back and peers at it. Linda, the slip reads. He snorts. Easy. All he has to do is get her art supplies.

He watches her flounce off to the next person, and Matt groans as soon as she's out of earshot.

"Damn. I wanted her," he says. He pushes his goggles up to the top of his head and sighs.

Mello smirks. He is no stranger to Matt's not-so-secret crush. He briefly flashes Matt his little slip of paper, and Matt's eyes grow wide.

"Switch with me."

Mello cackles. "No way. She's easy to buy for."

"Mello," Matt says pleadingly. He's practically begging, and Mello relishes in this newfound control. "Come on, man. Let's switch."

"What'll you give me?"

"A month's supply of chocolate."

"You were going to give me that anyway. That's my Christmas gift."

"Two months!"

"Six. And next time Roger gets on my ass, you cover for me."

Matt sighs and looks longingly over in Linda's direction. "Three months, but I'll do the Roger thing."

"Deal." Mello sticks out his hand, Matt shakes it, and they exchange slips.

Only that's when Mello realizes he never found out who exactly Matt had. He unfolds Matt's slip to see Near written in tiny letters.

"Hell no," he says immediately, trying to shove the slip back into Matt's hands.

Matt gives him wide eyes. "Come on, we shook on it."

Mello grits his teeth. He turns around, scouting for Near. Nowhere in sight; he must've left as soon as he got his paper.

"I hate that little sheep," he sneers.

Matt looks genuinely, legitimately disappointed, and Mello's resolve starts to falter.

"I'm a good fucking friend," Mello grumbles finally.

Matt's face lights up, and he slaps Mello on the shoulder, grinning.

They leave the room, and Mello fights the irritation that lingers.

------

One week before Christmas, Roger rounds up all the kids who want to physically buy their gifts to head to the closest department store.

He and Matt climb into one of the vans, followed in by Sura and Hermine. Both girls chatter away in the front row, smiling at Matt but ignoring Mello.

Mello scowls and looks out the other window. He can practically feel Matt's silent gloating, though he stays quiet as he pulls out his GameBoy.

"Got room for two more?" A new voice says. Mello turns, and Linda grins at them. Near stands next to her, looking as impassive as ever.

Matt lights up and immediately scrambles out of the back seat, making room for Linda.

"Come here," Sura says to Linda, beckoning her over. Linda gives Matt an apologetic smile and scoots into the middle row next to Hermine.

Near stands expectantly, looking up at Matt.

"We got room," Matt says to Near. Matt looks disappointed, but Near obviously doesn't care. Mello averts his eyes as both turn towards him, angling his body as close to the side as possible.

Mello stiffens as Near climbs in next to him. He remains still, holding his breath, even as Near straps in and ignores him. Matt climbs in next, sending Mello a silent expression that's a mix of amused and apologetic.

Near suddenly leans even more into Mello's space, digging into his pants pocket, and Mello chokes for a moment. Out Near pulls a small wooden toy and then moves back into his own space. He murmurs a small apology, obviously waiting on Mello to yell at him.

Instead, Mello could only focus on how warm he was, and on how soft his hair was against his cheek.

"Watch it," Mello mutters, but without any venom. It's also a beat too late, and Matt is staring at him with an eyebrow raised. He snorts on the other side of the van, trying belatedly to turn it into a cough. Mello glares over Near's head, feeling his cheeks heat in embarrassment.

Their staring match is interrupted as Roger climbs in the driver's seat, craning around to count them. He sighs, visibly exhausted, at seeing Near next to Mello.

"Mello, am I going to have to separate you two?"

One of the girls giggles, and Mello's cheeks flush even more.

"You don't have to worry about me," he says irritably. "Tell the sheep to stick to his seat."

"I'll be okay," Near says, not even looking up at Roger.

Roger sighs again, but turns around, cranks the engine, and they're on their way.

The girls chat amiably. Matt sticks to his GameBoy, occasionally leaning over to say something to Linda, and Near fiddles with his toy. Mello gets bored of ignoring everyone after about ten minutes and turns to watch Near.

He's playing with one of those wooden block puzzles, where the goal is to get one brightly red piece to slide neatly out of the entrance. He watches Near fiddle with it for longer than expected, until Near finally clears an open line and frees the piece.

Near huffs a little, pleased. Suddenly, he turns to Mello and holds the puzzle up. "Want to try?"

Mello cocks his head and reaches out to snag the toy. "I'm only doing this because I'm bored," he says, "not because I think your stupid toy is cool or anything."

Near jerks the puzzle back, but before Mello can say something angrily, he mixes up the pieces on the block, setting it up for Mello to have a fresh start. He holds it back towards Mello, who grabs it silently.

"It's more fun when it's a challenge," Near says simply.

Mello doesn't know what to say, so instead he turns his attention back down to the block and begins. Near stays quiet, simply watching.

It's kind of fun. Mello will never actually admit it, but it scratches the itch for challenge in his mind.

And damn, Near mixed the pieces up well.

He finishes the puzzle, sliding out the little red piece, just as the van pulls into the store parking lot. Grinning, he looks sideways at Near and holds up the piece.

"Got it," he says, radiating satisfaction.

The corners of Near's mouth tilt up, and he gently takes the piece and toy back from Mello. "On the ride back, you can attempt to complete it faster than me."

Mello snorts. His chest feels warm. "Yeah, right. I definitely beat that faster than you!"

Near's eyes are bright. "Perhaps with a little more practice."

Mello opens his mouth to shoot back another comment, but Near doesn't wait to hear it, already slipping out of the backseat and heading towards the store without looking back.

Mello sits for a moment, an odd feeling in his chest that only occurred when Near smiled at him. He brushes it off and climbs out after him. Matt, waiting just outside the van door, steadies his arm as he trips out.

"Well," Matt says, amused, "that was new."

"What?"

"Oh, you know. Just you sitting next to Near and not trying to kill him for once."

Mello scoffs. "Shut up."

"It's a Christmas miracle!"

Mello shoves him.

———

The store is ridiculously crowded. There's still another week left until Christmas, but people are already out in swarm.

He and Matt split up at the sight of the crowd of people. Mello heads straight back for the toy section, pushing and shoving his way through. Luckily, the puzzles aren't really picked over, and he picks out a 1,000 piece puzzle with some picturesque mountain landscape on it.

Well, that was easy.

Roger gave them an hour to shop. It's barely been fifteen minutes. Groaning, he trudges off in the direction of the craft aisle, in search of Matt.

Said friend is found squatting on the floor, looking between two identical green paints.

"I'm done," Mello says. "Come on."

Matt waves him off. "Go check out." He holds the tubes up towards the light. "I have to pick the best shade."

Mello rolls his eyes. "Those are literally the same color."

Matt shushes him and squints even more at the paint.

Mello huffs and turns to head out. As he leaves, the white paint catches his eye. Near's voice echoes in his head, "It's more fun when it's a challenge." He grabs a tube and heads to check out.

———

For the ride home, Near gets into the other van. Mello doesn't know why this actually bothers him.

———

Only a couple of days before Christmas, Mello actually gets started on Near's gift. It's painstaking - painting each piece white, front and back.

Matt ribs him a little about it and snags a picture of him sprawled out on his stomach on the floor, legs kicked up in the air and tongue peeking out. Mello threatens to break his camera, but Matt laughs and hides it away. Pretty soon, it's all forgotten as he has to get back to painting.

When he's finally finished, it looks pretty damn great, if he says so himself. He's never been one for puzzles, so he doesn't bother to put it together by himself. He somehow cons Matt into doing it with him, and when it's finished, both of them stare at it.

"I think Near'll like it," Matt says, stretching out the crick in his neck, "but you could never pay me to do that again."

"It needs something else," Mello says, squinting down at it.

Matt shrugs. "I think the white looks good."

Mello doesn't disagree, but it sticks in the back of his mind until he sees Linda the next day. She's an artist; she'll be a better judge of style than Matt, who wears that same ugly vest and goggles everyday.

He waves her over. "Come look at this for me."

She looks confused, but follows him back to his and Matt's room. He points out the puzzle.

"Oh! That looks good. For Near, right?"

"It needs something else," he says bluntly, "but I don't know what."

She hums. "What about his name? Or initial?"

Mello considers it. "Can we make it small? The white - he says he likes a challenge."

She looks at him, amused. "Oh, so you've talked to him some more?"

"Shut up. Can you sketch an N or not?"

She grins and grabs a pencil off of Matt's desk. In the top left corner, she draws the N, stylized in the same font that L does his.

"What about this? You can paint it," she says, leaning back on her feet when she's done. "I have black paint you can borrow to fill it in."

"Thanks." It was exactly what he had in mind. She drops the paint off and he spends the evening doing delicate, small strokes so each line is straight.

He leaves it out to dry. Even Matt grudgingly admits it looks better than before.

There's still a couple more days until Christmas, but Mello can't help but be excited, even though the gift is for Near of all people. He thinks about the weird way he felt the other day when Near smiled at him. It probably is just excitement for the idea, no big deal.

———

The gift exchange takes place on Christmas evening, after dinner. Mello's been antsy all day, but he only started to get a little nervous once the meal was over. He's pretty sure Near will like the puzzle. After all, it's practically custom-built for the little twit. Still, his stomach twists uncomfortably as he watches Near from across the dining hall.

As if knowing Mello's thinking about him, Near looks up and catches his gaze. Mello immediately looks down at his food. He forces himself to look away for the rest of dinner, though he can still feel Near's eyes on him every now and then.

Everyone meets back up in the living area fifteen minutes after dinner. It's enough time to go back and grab the gift. He'd wrapped it the day before, so all he has to do is pick it up and head back with Matt. Matt has Linda's gift tucked under one of his arms, and his GameBoy under the other.

There's already a crowd of people waiting and chatting loudly. Matt and Mello sit with some of the other guys. Mello keeps one eye on the door, waiting for Near to walk in. As more and more people file in, Near still doesn't show. He shifts, antsy.

"Dude, relax," Matt says. "He'll show."

"I'll be pissed if I put in all this work for nothing," Mello grumbles.

Matt rolls his eyes. "Sure. That'll be why you're upset."

Before Mello can spit something back, Near walks in, just as composed as ever. He holds a small brown box in his hands, a deck of cards resting on top.

Matt nudges him. "What did I say?"

"Shut up."

"Everyone, quiet!" Linda stands up, cupping her hands over her mouth. "Is anyone not here? I think everyone's here. We're about to get started! I'll read off the names. If you have that person, bring them their gift. Easy?"

The room buzzes, and she flaps a hand to get everyone to be quiet.

"Okay, first off... Ronan?"

There's not a whole lot of students, but the exchanges still seem to drag. Mello occasionally throws peeks towards Near, who doesn't even look like he's paying attention. Instead, he's building a tower with his cards.

Linda calls her own name at some point and looks ridiculously excited over her new paints. Matt practically glows all the way back to his seat, which only grows more intense as he opens Hermine's gift for him - some brand new game for his console.

"Near!"

Near looks up expectantly when his name is called. Mello slowly gets to his feet at Matt's prodding, feeling the eyes of every other kid in the room. He hears some of them whisper as he walks by - after all, his and Near's rivalry has always been the subject of much gossip.

"How did Mello get him-"

"Poor Near, I bet-"

Mello ignores them and comes to a stop in front of Near. He holds out the gift. "Here," he says, gruffly. "Merry Christmas."

Near looks up at him, wide-eyed for only a moment before he composes his expression into something more neutral. He takes the box and scoots away from his cards.

Mello cringes inwardly, looking down at his sloppy wrapping. Near doesn't seem to care, though. He just calmly unwraps the puzzle box, displaying the mountain landscape.

"Thank you, Mello," he says.

Mello swallows and gestures lamely. "Open it. It's uh, not the mountains."

Near tilts his head at that, but he does as Mello says and opens the box. The pieces are all mixed inside, but Near holds up one of the ones with the black initial on it.

Mello is well aware that everyone's eyes are still on him. He sweats a little. "It's an all-white puzzle. Except for your initial. I, uh, painted everything on it." He clears his throat. "You said it's more fun with a challenge."

Near's face is devoid of all emotion, but his eyes are bright. "Thank you."

That's as much recognition as he's going to get, so he nods and turns back around. As soon as his back is turned, he hears the telltale sound of all the pieces hitting the floor. When he gets back to his seat, Near is already hard at work on his puzzle.

Matt looks at him, smug. "Better than a baby puzzle, huh?"

"Shut up."

Near looks up and meets Mello's gaze. He smiles, softly. Mello lets one side of his mouth tilt up.

Linda calls the rest of the names. Mello waits impatiently for his own name to be called.

"And last but not least, Mello!"

Much to his surprise, Near is the one who stands up and walks over to him. Mello takes the box Near hands him and tears it open, no regard for the neat wrapping. Inside is a stack of chocolate bars, twelve in total. He lifts one up and flips it over to see that dark chocolate content is 82.5%.

"This is my favorite chocolate," he says, a little shocked. "How the hell did you know that? I never can find it in stores. L special orders it for me for my birthday."

Near looks satisfied and doesn't answer his question. "It would be a year's supply for anyone but you," he says dryly.

Mello smirks. Near walks back to his spot, and Mello immediately tears into the first bar. The room titters.

Linda stands back up. "I think we're done! Thanks for participating, everybody. See you next Christmas!"

The room gets loud again as people start to trickle out. One of the other guys leans over to poke at Mello, smirking and taunting him about how he and Near got each other's names.

"What, you think I planned that?" Mello scoffs. "Yeah, right."

Matt jabs at him with his foot, already plugging his new game into his GameBoy. Linda comes by to speak to Matt, and Mello ducks away because he really doesn't want to see Matt's sappy expressions. Instead, he drifts closer to Near, until he squats down beside him. Near doesn't look up from the puzzle.

"Did you know I had you?"

"No," Near says. "Nor did I suspect you knew I had you." He tries to snap a piece into place, but it doesn't fit. He grimaces slightly.

Mello preens.

"It took me four hours to put it together," Mello says. He conveniently leaves out the fact that Matt was helping him. "Beat me. I dare you."

"You don't want me to take my time, enjoy my present?" Near's voice is too innocent for Mello to believe him.

"Smartass. Sounds like something someone would say when they know they can't beat my time."

The corners of Near's mouth tilt up into a smile, though he still doesn't look up. "Merry Christmas, Mello."

Mello snaps off another piece of his chocolate. Damn, that's the good shit. "Near." With that, he turns and leaves him to it.

———

The next morning, Mello walks through the living area on the way to the dining hall. In the corner, in Near's spot, the puzzle lays finished. A piece of paper rests on top, and he bends down to pick it up.

Six hours. - N

Mello can't help it. He laughs. "Merry Christmas, Near. Guess I'm still better than you, after all."

———

A/N: I slightly changed up Near’s classic all-white puzzle for this fic. In the show, you see Near working on it in the episode where Roger tells them that L died. But it actually has an L on it, not an N! But I thought it would be cute to have Mello spend so much time working on it for him out of spite (though, it’s not spite, it’s more of a crush, even if he’s not aware of it yet). Either way, I hope you enjoyed this! :)

[grim-faux]

 2 _ 8 _ Snipping Cables

First

 Lately, he’s had some regrets.

 Perhaps that was a tad dramatic. Keeping attendance of the child hadn't been the labor it was prior, before the boy really got it in his head that he was not to stray too far, or not dawdle so much on inconsequential trinkets. There came lapses, but he didn't need to strain concentration on the transmission so tersely.

 The residence elected to offer the child rest was perfectly eroded, though more spacious than the majority that was not a store or carried endless supplies. Aside from the wind and enduring mist of rain, little of the harsh elements breached the innermost walls. A few outer rooms sat available for use, but he chose centered accommodations with a table and chair set. The kitchen offered little in edibles, but the child seemed to think it was the best space to spend his time. When he wasn’t pestering the Thin Man. Furniture and fringe shadows settled where the sporadic reach of light wouldn’t venture, and the usual decayed pieces of scraps abandoned by the previous occupants remained faithful to the end of days.

 A few television deserted within, likely afforded the escape to those occupants. If the clothing strewn on furniture was anything to go by. While Mono was having an explore, he dumped the devices out a window. He didn’t mind utilizing televisions for travel, but he remained uneasy leaving the child alone in their presence.

 “Ban-dahge.”

 The Thin Man flipped a page on the magazine he browsed through and cast an eye toward the child. Following the usual scout through some room, the boy lifted a container of crayons. But no paper. That would have been fine and well, if not for the discarded packages in the kitchen. Mono tore apart paper and cardboard, on the salvaged bits he did speek. Why didn’t he just do the speek on walls? There was no shortage of space.

 “Box.” Mono shuffled around the page he worked at, choosing another color. “Cer-ate.” He mumbled some jumbled sounds under his breath, as he crouched down and really got involved with the picture.

 “You are quite the artist,” the Thin Man muttered. Many passages in the magazine lay unintelligible, but it was more of a distraction in place of the televisions. When he plucked out the very breezy movement, he took a breath and steeled himself.

 A torn bit of cardboard popped above the horizon of the magazine he perused. “Road. See?”

 The Thin Man exhaled. “Yes. I can see that. An endless road.” When the colorful collage dipped out of sight, he lowered his book. Mono was muttering something to himself studying the image as if he never saw it before. Ever. When he noted the Thin Man’s attention, he held up the picture and pointed to the boarder.

 “Build-eegs.” He blinked beneath the edge of his hat.

 “Buildings. It looks just like every other scenery in this drab city.”

 “In. Th’z.” He pushed up his hat and moved a little closer to the magazine. “Drab? T’drab? Is mean?”

 “Unremarkable. Ugly. Boring.” The Thin Man pressed his magazine further away, to stall the child’s advance.

 “Un-re-mark-Ible. Bor-eng. Boring.” The child continued murmuring to himself, as he tottered back over to his stacks of cardboard and miscolored paper pieces. He stooped low on his knees and resumed marking at a piece, the speek of endless road and buildings forgotten for the time.

 Sighing, the lamp in the corner flickering, the Thin Man kneaded his brow. This had been going on for Hours. He peered beyond the edge of his reading, inspecting discarded pictures of mundane things. A mailbox, a tree. Buildings and buildings. A broken staircase. Inconsequential and unrelated little pictures, and many more. Each and every one he had to inspect, twice, sometimes four times over. At one point a Tower existed in the fray, but without a word the Thin Man delivered the child such a look, that the boy took the likeness and tore it to bits. The remnants lay on the floor, beneath the table.

 “So… mu-tch. Big. Then go.”

 He flipped through a few pages in the magazine, until he reached an uncorrupt segment. He winced, and looked up. The child was back, a new picture offering. “That’s a bridge.”

 “To… go?” The child indicated one end of the bridge. It was a bridge with no real scenery or location to set it’s placement. “Over. Is where?”

 Forget Her trying to teach him speek. Mono insisted on butchering every syllable. Why was he like this?

 He brought a hand to his face. “Where? Where does the bridge go? I don’t know. You tell me.”

 Mono fixed his hat and gave him a look. “Is go?”

 “Where? Does the bridge go? It goes somewhere, yes?”

 The child set down the cardboard piece and took a moment to pluck at the splinters in his palm. “Mm. Bridge. T’go…. Is.” He held his hands parted out. “Cross. Danger. T’danger, in deep.” He pantomimed an area beneath the two polar sides of his bridge. “Safe.” He brought his hands back up, parted. “Goes n’to. Is safe.”

 He understood what the child inferred, but…. “‘Safe’ isn’t a grounded location.”

 “N’to. Is.”

 Was he being messed with? “No. On that note, what if there was a creature at one end? Hmm? Not so safe now, is it?” Mono’s expression flickered. Aw, he hadn’t considered such a scenario. What a pity.

 The Thin Man leaned back in the chair and held the magazine up. This was all likely overlooked by the child, as he once more scampered away to his repurposed pages. The scratching wound up, while the small boy worked at another picture. The Thin Man restrained a groan. H̴͕̬̟͆̽̔Ō̸̼̓͗U̷̹̠͒R̶̰̃S̴͍̮̾̇̈.

 Passive mumbling rolled from the child, intermixed with the dragging crayon. “Dress. Er. Dresser. Chair. Smo-k. No. Room. Chair. Win-dowe.” He spun the page. “Re-sip-or-cant. Re-cip-or-cate? Mean?”

 The child reared off his picture and flapped one of the paper pieces. “Mean? T’speek? Big speek?”

 The Thin Man took a long and agonized breath. “Not return. A gift. Or help. Mean… if I helped you, then you ran off. Or something.” He couldn’t see the child, but he could sense the gears turning in his head.

 “Food?”

 Sigh. “Are you hungry?” Again.

 “Share. Recip. Rerr-sip-orate. Recip-o-ate.”

 “RE-Cip-Ro-Cate.” 

 “Re-cip-row-cate.”

 The Thin Man set aside his magazine and stood from the chair. A while back he thought of shutting the doors to the dining area, though they were glass, and he didn’t need them blown out by a small uncontrollable projectile. Instead, he sauntered through the main room and to the corridor, which led out of the residence.

 “Where?” peeped behind him.

 He stopped at the door and looked back. The child was there, looking very serious and prepared for the venture. “No-no, you stay here.”

 Mono tugged the sides of his coat. “Not safe n'go,” he rasped.

 “Indeed.” He turned around and leaned lower to the child. “It will be dangerous, out there. You must stay here, and I won’t be gone long.” Reaching out, he tipped the child’s hat back an inch and poked his nose. “Keep this place safe, won’t you?”

 The child did appear a little distressed. At least he didn’t flinch from his hand, but he might’ve been distracted. “N’together. S’safe. Two.”

 “Not for you. Now, do as I say.”

 The child retreated a step and nodded.

 “You will be fine. Safe is in here.” The Thin Man returned to the door and stepped out. As always, the door is not locked following his departure, but he does insure the warped frame is fitted securely.

 This was rest time for the child, but it was difficult to settle him in from the wandering and endless surveying for hazards. If the Thin Man removed himself for a while, then the boy was more prone to curl up in his dark little space - out of sight out of mind. It was no bother for the Thin Man to put up in some deserted home for a while, if his charge needed to rifle for some edibles or get off his feet. The problem was this insistent being up and around at every waking minute, blatantly refusing to sleep, then collapsing in a desolate road. Then! having the nerve to act like it was a complete mystery why he blacked out.

 Nonetheless, he would have to brace himself for the bombardment of pictures and explanation when he returned. It would be best not to think of that.

 It was indeed dangerous to venture to a neighboring building, where the television units remained active. This was no lie. Relocating to a place far distant from the Viewers was no difficult feat – for him, that is. A bare room housing a few televisions, the chatter of flat melodies intermingling. Nothing to think about, and no creature demanding his attention. In gaunt space of null, he was content.

 No benefit came through drowning his time in the static transmission. It influenced him in no way, he was not enamored by its call or demands. The static was familiar, perpetual and infinite. Somehow peaceful, despite his penance in the Tower, lost in the despair. The bitter resentment, and how he was so easily discarded. How badly it hurt. How little he understood. He was so utterly... done.

 As typical when he returned to the residency, he made certain to bring back some treat for the child. A little jar of food paste, a token of amity. This was enough.

 The child was pleased enough to receive the item. And, after untangling from the typical debacle of ‘no, I really don’t want that,’ the boy carried the container around the rooms and nibbled out the contents. It kept him preoccupied for a while, allowing the Thin Man to browse through a few pamphlets and other items he’d plucked up on the fly.

 Following his return, he was a little concerned that the child lingered, peering around a corner, observing as the Thin Man sought to busy himself with distractions. He ignored this, and instead went to a window to have a smoke and go through a book. It was a cookbook of all things, but more engaging than the catalog on engines he’d had the misfortune of investing the scarce quiet into. He had some stake in finding information about the Tower, about its origins and theories. Alas, thus far no readings had elaborated a smidgen on its purpose.

 Aside from being a massive headache.

 Then there was the headache of the child, being persistent at being underfoot. He almost missed the pictures he ceased providing.

 The entire drama was grating on his nerves, he was going to step on the boy if he wasn’t expertly cautious. He usually was. The issue now was a child that was constantly on his heels, appearing out of nowhere – teleporting he suspected – just to be RIGHT THERE. Darting in, and keeping close whenever he wanted to relocate to a room or get away. If he wasn’t keeping strict vigil at every pause or turn, the child just was Ṭ̶̖͈͍̒h̶̹̬͆ȅ̵̦͉̬r̶̘̜̈̈̆̋ȩ̸̫͉̱̑̎. He didn’t understand this sport, he's certain Mono did it to be a nuisance. It reached the point where he anticipated the child’s presence and then physically relocated him, a shelf or cabinet. Some out of the way location, where the child would be forced to pause and judge where to go before engaging all over. Enough time for him to reach a room and just… take a breather. Or leave. Then the child had the audacity to give him the most offended look.

 This didn’t compare to the child’s tendency of resting near or curled up on him. He’d thought the boy was broken of the habit, apparently, he was wrong.

 Most circumstances he could get up, take the child, and set him in his usual nest spot. A dresser in a random room, a hole in the floor, the kitchen - set him down without a bother in the world. Effortless. He envied how the boy could just… slumber without a care, and he could deal with that.

 Not always though.

 “Mono.” The Thin Man wanted to sit and read, let the drilling ache of the light burn out his eyes. Then, there was the child. Latched onto his coat. He did not want that excessive needling in his side. “Stop. L̶̥͕̾͌ě̸̺t̶͓.̷̥̔͒ͅ ̸͈̘̑G̸̘̅̚o̷̾̈́��̝.̵̥̙͋̿” The boy was not deterred, maybe still half asleep. Where did this strength come from? “M̴̛͇ỏ̶̧̠̿n̸̨͌̆̎o̵͕̾̇!̷̛̬̎̽̀”

 “Nuhh!”

 “We've been over this.” He tried prying the hands loose, but his other hand was preoccupied with keeping most of the child extracted. The bulb in the lamp burst a while back, when he was first dealing with this dilemma. “What have I said?”

 “N’t un… leave!”

 “I’m not going anywhere.”

 “Lie—” When finally ripped loose of his coat, the child coiled about his wrist with his arms and legs, constricting. “Caught.”

 The Thin Man can’t believe this. “No. I am in the process of liberating my person from this nuisance. Why? Why are you like this?”

 “Aye… mmhh. N’t—” He gave a little yelp, quite loud actually, when the Thin Man gripped at his waist and tried tearing him loose. But gently.

 “What is the problem? Just tell me! I have no plans of leave, I assure you.” His next ploy was wriggle his fingers between his sleeve and the chest. “Frustrating little….”

 “Nhn… not alone. N’have… keep. But th’n gone, wh-un sh’uld stay.” The child doubled down on his embrace, his current hat falling. “N'haunt! Am lost… M’alone. S’t nuh good. Sad! Not have yuh. You. G’t lost. Lost! M’lost. T’h… wa’r mon-st’EER. N’took! Run! M’was run-Ing. Not to fin’d—”

 “You know what, never mind! Mono! E̷͔̞͆n̵͎̝̐͘o̴̪̊̕u̴͓͂̈g̵̡̖̐h̶͕͚͐!̶̥͉͒͠” He looped his fingers around the child’s shoulder and tugged. “D̷̨͈͋̌̉̈͜ǫ̷̛̪̂̔̓.̸̨̜̳̞̇͋̀͘ ̴͍͈̄̃͊͗A̸̛̻͗̓̔s̵͚̹͚̊̓̚͜.̵̨͖̳̼̃̋̊͘ ̶̢̻̙͐̿̊̊Ỉ̴͚̞̈́.̶̤̈͋̃͝ ̵̳͍̘S̵̞̘̪̬̓̀̊̎â̵̧̱͒ÿ̷̡̨̲́̓!̷͇̔͝” The child gave a muffled squeal. “Stop!”

 “Sa’id keep! N’t uhn leave! For-feet!”

 “You first!” The child bit into his sleeve, and the Thin Man settled him with a glare. Biding time to study this scene, and the small thing latched tight like a tick. “How long do you think you’ll keep this up?” For emphasis, he tugged at the collar of the child’s coat. As expected, the boy coiled up tighter, his glare just as intense. “I do not sleep, child.” Mono hissed.

 This stalemate endured for an hour at least. The child’s resolve and ferocity was something to be admired, but all the Thin Man need do was sit and keep his arm elevated. No matter the tenacity or vigor, Mono was still child and his reserves at their limits. At long last and after an unrelenting hold on the child’s collar, Mono’s grip slackened. Not entirely, but enough that he could pull the boy clear from his arm.

 Before the child could recover and reassert his super adhesive hold, the Thin Man resituated his stance in a glitchy flash. He set the boy onto the floor and teleported beyond the entry of his current lodgings, well out of range should his pursuer attempt to catch up.

 “Hai.” Mono fumbled to get upright and onto his feet, but he was out of sorts with his knotted muscles. He managed two steps under the table before he collapsed to his knees. Bones and nerves alike buzzed, he could scarcely feel his toes. “Wait?” Unable to coordinate himself, he scooted up beneath one of the chairs and peered out.

 At best it only worked to let the child wear himself out. Now liberated from the smaller, the Thin Man could relocate to one of the spare rooms. If the boy came snooping around, he would simply stall time and flicker out. One certainty, he would not have the luxury to be still for some while. But whatever, he spent the better part of his life seated and waiting for… anything. Something.

 He stood beside the cracked window in the room furthest from the dining setup, breathing smoke and remembering the Tower. Lost to his isolation and languishing within the miasma of grim thoughts, left with only memories of what led to his self-imposed contrition. Sometimes he hid under the chair, wallowing and inconsolable. He never went far. As idiotic as it would sound, it became his home. He had no more wants, no more fears – though he was never happy either. How could he? Though refuge was granted, he had nothing and no one else in all the world. He remained because she discarded him, and the Tower encased him with its impenetrable walls of cynicism.

 When at his weakest, the Eyes would appear. To check on him, make certain he had not left them. They did nothing to assure his attendance, nothing short of keeping a room that was his and his alone. Every time they resurfaced, he simply sent them away.

 It was his chore to remind them, they could not, and shall never look at him. If they wanted to use him, then they could not bother him. Not watch, nor think about him. Just as he had limitations of what could be tolerated, they had restrictions of what could be done to him. They had plenty to seek through the transmitter devices and televisions, and then he gave them more. But he could not be reminded they would always be there, waiting. Endlessly hungry.

 The child is only this way because he does not know any better. He never saw the depths of that horrendous pit. Never once saw what was to be his fate, abandoned to endlessly waiting. Continue the cycle. Seek your younger, replace yourself when you have outlived usefulness. Always and perpetually discarded and forgotten. When he first came to that place and that room, buried deep inside a tomb and isolated from the world, it was his fate alone. Not until much-much-much later did he realize the truth. The boy would never understand, could never grasp the reality of their twisted existence. He was yet only child – naïve, sheltered, and excessively needy.

 When the boy managed to sort himself out, the Thin Man would be inclined to let his guard down. It was discouraging that his younger-self was prone to relapse, but it was some facet to keep attention on. Such moods would pass, they always did.

Next

[mistflyer1102]

memo

Summary: Arligan Zey and Captain Maze receive transfer papers for a new squad.

~*~*~

“Sir, you received a message from General Camas.”

“Oh, did I?” Arligan Zey asked, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he draped his cloak on the back of the chair in the back room attached to the formal conference room. Captain Maze sat watching him from another chair, several datapads scattered about the desk with his helmet set on the table beside him. “Well, that can’t be good, he usually calls or tells me things in person,” Zey said as he set down the paper bag of pastries he’d picked up from a café that he always passed on his way to Arca Company Barracks from the Jedi Temple. He pushed the bag across the table to Maze, who caught it. “I didn’t see him at the Temple either, which means he’s putting extra effort in avoiding me. I try to check in with him once a week, and that would have been today,” he said, sitting down as he spotted a piece of folded flimsi on top of one of his datapads.

“I can only imagine then, seeing it was a civilian aide who dropped it off,” Maze said, nodding towards the folded flimsi as he opened the bag and looked inside.

Zey glanced at him. “Did I get the right ones?”

Maze nodded, poking around in the bag.

Zey then turned his attention back to the flimsi, humming thoughtfully as he picked it up. “So, what do you think it was? I haven’t had a cold shoulder from him since the day the Jedi Council let me off the hook for having two Padawans at the start of the war,” he said as he began to unfold the flimsi. “He didn’t think the excuse of ‘extenuating circumstances’ would go over with the High Council.”

Maze paused, brow furrowing as he looked up. “You are not permitted two students at once?”

Zey shook his head. “Bardan was my Padawan from the start, as you well know, and Etain lost her master on Qiilura right at the start of the war. Both were almost complete with their training when we went to Qiilura, I found it pointless to make arrangements for her to take another master at that point. Master Camas, of course, made his objections upon our return, but both Bardan and Etain had completed at least one or two of their trials for Knighthood on the field at that point,” he said as he finally looked down at the flimsi. Given that he could feel the stylus marks through the flimsi, Master Camas had been pressing unusually hard. He’s annoyed. “Now, let’s see what he wanted…” Zey murmured, scanning through the text.

The message was unusually short and terse, something that could have taken perhaps less than three minutes had Zey met with Camas in person. And it was for a reason that could have easily been communicated via datapad, especially since Zey was now expecting to find four transfer papers in his inbox. “Well...he’s transferring a commando squad to us. I know he retained command of some of the squads after the merge of our brigades, but I’m not sure why he’s sending this group to us,” Zey said, frowning before setting the flimsi down and reaching for his datapad.

Maze frowned. “Which squad is he sending to us?”

“ ‘Clone Force 99’, no mention of its members,” Zey said as he activated the datapad. “Have you heard of them? I haven’t, oddly enough…”

Maze shook his head. “With all due respect sir, I make an effort to stay out of any business that General Camas is involved in. It could be a recently formed squad too, from survivors of other squads like Omega,” he said as he folded the bag closed again and tucked it underneath the table where Zey knew Maze kept other odds and ends to bring back to the barracks at the end of the day.

“You could be right.” Zey studied the profiles of the four team members, along with their attached service records. “Well, I am failing to see what issue Master Camas has—oh, here we go. There’s a notation in the message that has the transfer orders.” He squinted slightly, and then read aloud “‘Although they follow orders and have a comparable success rate with that of any other commando squad under the Special Operations Brigade, their fighting styles and methodologies is reminiscent enough to that of the Null ARCs that I anticipate future issues with them receiving orders from parties aside from Sergeant Skirata, or another individual that we do not know of yet. Specifically one that we will have to hire in order to keep yet another squad in line. Given the black hole that Skirata has started to create in the Special Ops budget, I am concerned with creating yet another issue to bring before the GAR budget committee, one that could have easily been avoided if we did not hire another third party.’” Zey huffed as he pushed the datapad across the table to Maze, who caught it.

Maze glanced at him. “Translation, sir?”

Zey said, “Master Camas is concerned about Skirata the Sequel, but with this squad and another Mandalorian training sergeant instead of the Nulls and Skirata. Camas hasn’t quite gotten over the bill Skirata sent for the undercover op he ran here on Coruscant a few months ago.” He waved a hand at the datapad as Maze picked it up. “I didn’t see a primary training sergeant listed for any of them. Hunter appears to be their leader, Crosshair appears to be their sniper, Wrecker may be the demolitions expert, and Tech might be their slicer. They’re currently running a mission in the Outer Rim, but they’ll find out about the transfer when they return,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Which means you and I will handle their debriefing,” he added as Maze studied the datapad.

Maze studied the datapad thoughtfully. “How much do you want to bet that Sergeant Skirata knows about their trainer?”

Zey snorted. “I know better than to take that. If Skirata doesn’t know something, that’s when I start to worry,” he said, waving a hand at the datapad. “It’s not critical, we can ask them when the squad gets back,” he said, going back to his other datapad that had the list of meetings he had for the day. He scanned the schedule for the one name that seemed to be consistently present for one reason or another in the last few weeks, ever since the op that Skirata ran and to which Zey had turned a blind eye “And of course, for once, I don’t have a meeting with Sergeant Skirata today, or Sergeant Vau. I’m sure it can all wait,” he said, accepting the datapad that Maze slid back to him. He eyed his datapad. “Actually, they’ve both been quiet recently, haven’t they?”

“Relatively, sir.”

Zey sighed. He knew Vau had been on Mygeeto with Delta Squad, but vanished when Delta returned. He almost didn’t want to know. Skirata…he had no idea where Skirata had gone, but again, Zey decided he did not want to know. He could not report something illegal if he didn’t know about it. As long as it does not cross my desk, I do not have to worry. “Let’s hope it stays that way for now. Or at least until after the next meeting with the budgeting committee,” Zey said, closing his eyes as he rested a hand over his face. 

“Do you think the Nulls, or even Skirata, were involved with their training? I bet they were.”

Zey didn’t dare bet on that either.