#( only took her boy dying for her to build up her courage

[milequaritchsslut]

Neteyam x dead Reader Part 4

Warnings: heavy mentions of death, shit ton of crying, sadness, corpses, mentions of wounds, blood, mentions of knives, Kiri and Jake bonding,

Summary: After Neteyam passed, his family doesn’t know what to do without him.

Note: sorry this is longer than the other chapters guys, I literally couldn’t help myself. The reason I added the Jake and Kiri thing in the middle was because I noticed in ATWOW Jake was always the one who was “strong” and never cried. So he obviously had a reason for that, so I just wanted to show their relationship in this chapter. I really hope you guys like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

…

There he laid, his stiff body in his own mothers hands. Her wails filling the tree of souls, her yell’s flooding her surroundings. Her own son was gone, dead in seconds. Tears came down like a waterfall, like a river flowing through the forest. They never stopped, not for a second. The salty liquid coming to trickle from her eyes down to her mouth as it layed agape, while she weeped for her son. The boy she loved before he even came out of the womb, the boy she played with for hours. The young man she had raised for years, her own blood was in him.

A part of her family was gone, and it was by his own accord. By his own will, his own hands. Why? Why would Eywa let this happen? Why did it come so sudden? She blamed herself, she shouldn’t have let him get so low in life. She was at fault for this, she was his mother. Her job was to nurture and care for her children, but she couldn’t even do that. She couldn’t do the one job she was assigned as a mother. Her eyes kept switching from the wound her son made, to his pale face. His handsome face that was once smiling and laughing was now gone, with only a frail corpse being left behind.

She should’ve gotten there sooner, but no she took her sweet time. Now her son was gone, he was with Ewya now. He was with his true love, you. You were the cause of this horrible act. But it wasn’t your fault, you pleaded him not to. But he never listened, too caught up in his own sorrow to think of the bigger picture for once. The blood trickled down his cold chest, his soulless frame. The red ivory covering his mothers hands, her soft hands now painted with death. She needed him back, she was supposed to see him grow up. See him become a true man and build a family, but now that reality was just a delusion. She watched as his chest stayed still with no breath coming out. She stared into him, waiting for him to wake up. Waiting for him to come back and for this to just be some bad nightmare. She pleaded to a dead body to come back to be with her for even just one more minute. Just so she could say goodbye to him, for one more moment with her eldest son.

Hours went by as she sat there with him, sitting with a boy who was no longer there. Her cries slowly stopped, instead she just sat there. Not moving, just breathing alone. Admiring her son she held back the tears, she needed to get help. She needed to tell someone, someone who could help her. Mustering up the courage, she picked his up dying corpse and over her shoulder. As she began to walk, her cries started again, her sorrow never ending as she walked down the trail to the village.

“Help, please help!” She screamed, as she collapsed on the ground. Her sounds drawing attention to form a crowd, she was quickly comforted as she heaved in exhaustion from her journey. “Neytiri!” Her mate yelled, running to see what was wrong. To his surprise he found his wife screeching in agony as her son laid lifeless in front of her. Looking at the scene in front of him, realization engulfed his being as his eyes laid onto the knife jabbed into his sons chest. Coming to comfort Neytiri he darted around the crowd and to his wailing mate. Holding her in his arms, he angled her to his chest so she wouldn’t have to see her dead son. His eyes were set on Neteyam as he moved his hands up and down Neytiri’s back.

What had he done so wrong as a father for this to happen? This wasn’t happening, this wasn’t reality. It was too much to bear, too much for his strong heart to take. What were the kids going to think? Their own brother committed suicide, the Na’vi didn’t even have a word for that. It never happened, it wasn’t Ewya’s plan, the great mothers plan couldn’t be this. His thoughts consumed him as he sat there with his mate.

“No- please no” Jake mumbled, a tear daring to fall from his eyes. Quickly wiping it away, he had to stay strong for his mate and more importantly his people. The crowd was mumbling who knows what, scrambled sorrows and wails across the group as they watched their Tsihak and Olo'eyktan cope with the death of their son.

“Baby- baby” he spoke, bringing her face to meet his. “We have to stay strong, remember?” He asked, staring into his wife’s orbs that seemed to have been drowned of life. “Strong heart” he added, and he was right. His people were watching, they needed someone to guide them. They needed their Olo'eyktan and Tsihak to stay strong. Her mouth turning into a frown as she tried to hold in her tears and wails. Taking a deep breathe she nodded, Jake holding her hand as he helped her to his feet. Her legs were weak, she had walked so far with not just her own body but with another on her back. She wobbled underneath him, but soon she found her balance as she stood up.

Jake let go of his wife as she found her way out of the crowd, leaving him with Neteyam. His eldest son dead, his son who was going to be the next Olo'eyktan, the leader of his people. Standing over his sons body, he bent down to hold him in his arms. Making his way through the crowd, all eyes were on him as his legs guided him. His face was tired, it was pale, drained of any happiness that he had beforehand, his smile turning to a frown as his lips pierced together.

Neytiri called for her children, scared they would have to see their brothers dead body. But sadly she wasn’t mistaken, Tuk had been in the crowd with Kiri by her side. Kiri who had run with Tuk to see what all the commotion was, had turned teary eyed. Covering Tuks eyes she led her away and into their hut. Tuk crying in Kiris arms, sitting in their hut alone with only eachother. Kiri sat there feeling alone, even though Tuk was in her grasp. She felt numb, dead almost, lifeless like her brother. Her body was heavy, her eyelids turned murky just like every other limb attached to her body. This wasn’t happening, her brother couldn’t have done such a horrible thing. She knew he was struggling, by why didn’t he just talk about it to her. She would’ve listened, she would’ve held onto him tight, telling him how much she loves him. Tears ran down her face, her features staying the same as she cried. She was a statue, with a waterfall pouring out of her eyes.

“I- is he really gone Kiri?” Tuk cried, latching onto her sisters knot holding up her loincloth. “I- I think so Tuk” she confessed, did she even believe her own words? Was it really true? She couldn’t imagine a world without him, he was always with her. They were the ones who took care of Lo’ak and Tuk when it was just them. They were the protectors of the family, the duo, now it was just her. A one man show from now on. She held onto Tuk as her thoughts raced through her broken mind. “Kiri, Tuk?” Neytiri spoke, rushing into their hut. She was too late, their eyes had been shown the bloody scene already. The bloodbath her son had made, the agony he put his family through. “Mom?” Tuk asked, looking up at her mother.

“Oh Tuk” she sighed, opening her arms up. Tuk rushed into them, leaving Kiri bare. That’s what she felt, bare, naked with no one to hold onto. “I am so sorry” Neytiri cried, as if she was the one at fault for this. Her happiness had faded, her children’s laughs and giggles seemed like a reality she could never grasp again. Kiri sat there, her eyelids half open, letting the tears come and go as they pleased. “Kiri?” noticing her daughters strange position. “Hm?” She spoke, turning her gaze to her weeping mother. “Where is Lo’ak?” She asked, worried for her youngest son. What if he had already seen his brother, and had left, too frightened to see one more second of this agony. Kiris head hung low, trying to figure out where he was. But she came up with nothing, no location of where he might be. So she sat there, her silence was the only answer she could muster up, her unknowningness was her last resort. She couldn’t comprehend what was being said to her, and she didn’t need to. She just needed to sit there for as long as she needed to, as long as Ewya would let her.

Walking into their hut, Jake was met with sorrow and tears. His head hung low, passing by Kiri and Tuk. Laying his son’s body on the mat in front of everyone to see. He sat on the edge, just watching, waiting for something to happen. For someone to save him from this hell, something that could take him away. His breathe was hitched and heavy, trying his best to be the strong man his family saw him as. But why? Why couldn’t he let himself feel it, feel the sorrow that inflamed him. He needed to mourn his dead son, he needed someone to tell him it was ok to cry, that he didn’t need to be strong anymore. A sign that told him he could let go and bathe in his sorrows. Kiri watched her father fight with himself, and for what? She’d never seen her father cry, never seen him mourn anything. She noticed how he was always the strong one in the family, the one who could uplift everyone, but was never uplifted by anyone else. She could tell he needed someone, he needed that sign to come soon.

So she decided she would be that sign, she could finally help her father, finally give back everything he’s given to her, she could repay her debt she owed as a daughter. Coming over to sit next to him, she patted him on the back as she joined in watching her brothers body. “It is ok to not be strong” she let out, her gaze never leaving Neteyam. Was she trying to comfort him? That wasn’t how it was supposed to go, she was the child and he was the father, he had to comfort her that was his job. But what was this feeling that grew in his heart? He felt seen, and she saw him for what he was, he was a mourning father who needed an outlet. He was tired of the facade he put up for everyone to see. “I see you Dad” she said, looking up at her father. She brought her hand down to intertwine with her fathers. He smiled at the gesture, a tear coming out. His tears falling one by one in a never ending cycle. He held onto Kiris hand, grasping tightly, scared to be vulnerable in front of his own daughter.

Lo’ak walked through the village, noticing how everyone was giving him weird looks and stares, he couldn’t help but wonder. He knew he was the screw up of the family, but not that much of one. Growing closer to his hut, he picked up the wails of his family. Quickly rushing in he stood there, his eyes widening at his brothers body on the mat, with a knife plunged into his heart. “Mom- what happened” he asked, fighting back tears that fought to come out. “Who did this?” He asked, his voice turning into a huff. Whoever did this was going to feel the wrath of him, he swore it. He ran to his brothers side, mumbling words only him and Ewya would know. A tear dropped onto his brothers frigid body, then another, and another. Till a puddle was created. Lo’ak’s eyes screwed shut trying his best not to let his tears rain down too much. He prayed and prayed for Ewya to bring him back, for relief of some sort. His brother was the only one he could talk to, the only one on this planet that saw him for who he really was. The only one who never judged him for who he was, now who was going to take his place?

Taglist: @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @not-aya @angrypomeranianwifey @your-girl-mj @divineei @yeosxxx @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @dyingofcookies

[radical-revolution]

THE LAST FIGHT OF OUR DIVINE MOTHER

Like a lover whispering in my ear, trying to rouse me out of my liminal state, that day I heard the voice of what was unmistakably our Divine Mother, Mary, Isis, Shakti, the heart of the Cosmos itself, God of all gods and the consecrated breath of the manifest world. She goes by many names and has taken on many creeds and colours and forms. A great and ancient electricity ran through my being as her soft yet powerful presence penetrated me. I could barely make out her words, she spoke so gently and with such graceful delicacy, yet I felt too the terrible convulsions of world creation and destruction beneath each syllable, untold billions of universes being born and dying, expanding and contracting in an unending torrent of life, and, underlying all these forms, the taste of that Infinite Love that just might be the salvation of this broken world.

They had murdered her beloved child, she said. Murdered him in cold blood. Murdered him in their ignorance and fear. Unhealed trauma had unconsciously struck its death blows! She wept, she lamented, she spoke of the loneliness of loss and the grief-infused rage of the bereaved mother, yet she also told of a world that was yet to come, not some other world, no, but this very world, this shattered and terrified world infused with divinity, shot through with the brilliant light of compassion and understanding.

Here is what I heard her say in my half-asleep, half-awake state, or at least, this is what I remember of it….

“…Oh my boy. My baby boy. What have they done?

What has this samsara brought?

How much more of this can I bear?

My love! You suckled my breast. My breast was full for you. I watched you grow strong on my milk. You clung to me and learned to let go. You grew and spoke your truth and listened calmly to the truth of others. You became a man and father and loving brother to many, and I was proud of you and they broke you on the cross of this world. They nailed you up there, my boy, my poor, sweet, kind boy. I could not stop them and I could not reach you. They spat at you, broke your spirit. They hung you from trees, gunned you down into pits, gassed you in industrial ovens, robbed you of all that you cherished and all that you had worked so hard to build. They took away your rights, enslaved your children, stole your sense of self respect, tried to drown you in their own river of shame.

They knelt on your neck until you could not breathe and you cried out for me and I will never forget your cries.

What kind of world is this?

What kind of world have I made, my love?

I would have taken away all your pain if I could. I would have breathed for you, given you my final breaths, emptied myself out for you.

Make no mistake, I am wrath today. I am fire and hatred too. I am indignation and outrage and I would burn this filthy creation if I wanted to, yes, in a single exhale I would blow it all away to kingdom come. But no, I love this world too much right now to end it. I love this fractured world beyond reason for this world is my child too, it emerged from my belly too and it shall return there in time. So today I take all this fire and frenzy and breathe it back into my bottomless womb, and there I transform it, transmute it, transition it into pure electricity and holy spirit, into Eros itself, the nectar of life. I flood myself with its righteous and erotic anger-power, I strengthen my spine and heart and breast and head and I build up my dignity and resolve in a near-unbearable inferno of compassion and I offer this soft lightning back to this world, I place this power into the hearts of women and men fighting for justice and equality, I give courageous voice to those whose voices have been stifled for too long. They are all my sons and daughters too! And when the ignorant and the unhealed and the unloved, when the narcissistic and the tyrannical forces try to destroy what I have created they only empower me. Where they bring intolerance I bring more abundant life! Where they sow fear and suspicion, where they ridicule and mock and deny the inherent rights of my precious ones I bring fierce protection and awakening power!

Forgive them, Father. They do not know what they are doing and they do not know what they have unleashed in me. They do not know the world-changing power of my wrath! They see it as ungrounded rage, but oh, it is infused with unspeakable love! Oh yes, I come today in a torrent of peaceful revolution! No force can stop me, nature or man-made, real or imagined. I am coming for them in their sleep, the ignorant ones, the ones who do not see or do not want to see. I shall make them see. I shall penetrate their strongest defences, place hairline cracks in their outdated belief systems, and in moments of doubt and vulnerability and self-reflection I shall enter them, through their own shame I shall enter them, I shall push myself up into their chests and loins and spines and into their very inhalations and exhalations, and I shall make them shake and sob and weep and moan to the heavens when they finally recognise what they have done to me, what they have done to my flesh, my own beautiful flesh, my boy, and his brethren, and what they have done to themselves, for we are only reflections of reflections of each other, versions of my Original Face, and I shall hold up my terrible mirror to them! The poison they witness will be the cure. A torrent of Truth will be unleashed on this planet like never before. All that has been repressed will finally be brought into the Light. I shall make America face her sins, tell the truth of what she has done. Truth and reconciliation, truth and reconciliation, are on their way, for America and for the world, and nothing can stop me now.

I am Mother of all mothers! I am Power of all powers! Grief of all grief! I weep for my little boy, yes, I cannot stem these tears, I am too far gone in grief, too advanced in it, I am as shattered as any mother would be! I have wept untold oceans, cried for aeons for all my boys, all my girls, my skin is red raw with tears. But when they buried my son deep in the Earth – oh my sweet boy - when they planted him in the sod along with his brothers and sisters, they planted a terrible seed of love that will grow unhampered by time and distance now, its haunted roots spreading deep underground, roots connecting with other roots, strong firm roots of the forgotten ones, roots of the martyrs and the slaves and the outcasts, roots of the oppressed and the wrongly accused, weeping roots connecting and weaving and nourishing each other as they intertwine and heal, a great loving conversational organism forging itself underground now, a terrible beast of loving transformation ready to shake the very foundations of civilisation itself, ready to construct a new society built on love and equality, and the most heart-shattering Truth. Utopia is nearer to every man and woman’s heart than they would ever believe. But first we must pass through this time of reckoning. We must first pass through the dark night of grief, and rage that drips with the very same grief.

Nothing can take away the pain of my loss. Samsara is so cruel, feels so meaningless sometimes, all this unnecessary destruction and pain. But I am full of hope today, although I am broken with grief, my love, I am full of hope. I created you to recognise the other as yourself and yourself in the other. I forged you out of Divine Love and you must never forget this. I gave you milk when you were young and you cried out for milk. I was full for you. I looked deep into your brand new eyes and a bond was formed between us that can never be broken, not by any power on this Earth, not until after the last Sun has cooled, and all this pain and devastation has been forgotten.

Your death will not be in vain, my sweet boy, your death may very well be the salvation of this world.

I am coming for you…”

And with that, her lamentations faded into silence. I managed to open my eyes at last but she – Mother Mary, Kali, Shakti, the great Matriarch of the known and unknown worlds - was nowhere to be found. It may have all been a hallucination, a vision, a lucid dream, a trip into my own deepest being, for these sacred and timeless archetypes live in our collective consciousness and transcend historical and cultural contexts. It does not matter though – her guttural cry of undying love and fierce maternal courage has entered my heart forever, and hopefully, through these half-remembered words, she has entered yours too.

Her rage dripping with grief, her compassion for humanity unrestrained, her heart torn asunder, broken and weary yet full of hope, she fights on.

- Jeff Foster

[mitchvnderson]

Hey, look! It’s MITCH ANDERSON at PIZZAGEDDON. Did you know they WORKS there as a PIZZA DELIVERY PERSON? I guess they’re from NEW YORK CITY and have been in town for TEN YEARS, living in PIZZAGEDDON. I also heard they’re a little INSECURE, but also very GOOFY which definitely makes sense.

TRIGGERS: Divorce, marijuana use, health issues

THE DETAILS ;

Full Name: Mitchell Ryan Anderson

Nickname(s): Mitch

Age: 23

Birthdate: May 5th

Aesthetics: Cold pizza, tie dyed shirts, dusty acoustic guitars, worn out converse, poorly rolled blunts

Zodiac: Taurus.

Sexuality: Straight

Occupation: Pizza Delivery Boy

Height: 6'2

Weight: 170

Build: Lanky

BIO ;  

Mitch is the youngest of 3 siblings and grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. His parents were both very well off and successful music producers.

Mitch was kinda the odd man out in his family. He wasn't the most attractive of his siblings, nor was he the most popular. His brother was an all star athlete and class president. His older sister, Anna, was the the prom queen and cheer captain.

When Mitch was 12 his whole world changed. His parents ended up divorcing so his father could start a new life with his new boyfriend. His mother got full custody of him and his sister who were still under age and moved back to her home town of East Haven.

Mitch's family was easily one of the most wealthy in East haven, which put a target on him in school. Because not only was he rich, he was awkward, had braces, horrible acne, and new his freshman year of high school.

Mitch would have despised his entire high school experience if it wasn't for one girl in particular, Rhiannon Spring. From the moment he laid eyes on her, Mitch fell head over heals for her. though it took him forever to muster up the courage to ask her out on a date. But the two clicked, and it wasn't long before he said I love you. Eventually, Rhi said it back.

The two were an odd couple. Clearly from different worlds and social circles. But their love was strong. Unfortunately Mitch's mother drove a wedge between the two and they broke up. Mitch's world was shattered once again. When Rhi broke his heart his whole world came crashing down, not only did he loose his girlfriend, he lost his best friend.

As much as it seemed that Mitch had a charmed life, it was lonely. His father and older brother weren't a part of his life. His sister was always out god knows where doing god knows what, and his mother, well more often then not she was away on business.

Mitch is back from college. Having both simultaneously flunked/dropped out, Mitch's mother is furious with him.

The college Mitch attended was Boston College. He was a Business administration and management but was struggling because he hated it, but his mother didn't care and support him wanting to change majors so now he's cut off.

Now Mitch is working as a pizza delivery boy, putting tons of miles on his fancy sports car he really can't afford anymore and living off free pizza

Though he went away for college, Mitch never really left East Haven aside from college. He would come back for breaks and moved back home when school was out.

Mitch was premature and has a weak heart though he's never had any problems from it yet

Mitch has only had 3 girlfriends. Rhi was his first girlfriend, first kiss, first everything.

He's legit a stereotypical "teen" boy even if he's not a teen anymore. Does nothing but play video games, smoke weed, and eat junk food. But he's really got a heart of gold.

Mitch's family, mainly his brother and grandparents put this idea of what a "man" should be in his head and he struggles with that sometimes

This is the first job he's had aside from doing landscaping in the summer for his grandparents when he was a teen

Family ;

Abigail Anderson: Estranged Mother Michael Anderson: Estranged Father Noah Anderson: Estranged Older Brother Angela Anderson: Older Sister Andon Anderson: Nephew

Wanted connections ;

Best friend: Co workers: Old classmates: Enemies: Acquaintances/friends of his mother/family: Ex Girlfriends (1/3): @rhixspring

[lunalyt]

Your  Love  Language.

putting  barbie  band aids  on  scraped  knees

friends  to  lovers  is  your  favorite  fanfic  trope.  you  probably  love  a  good  slow  burn  too.  you're  the  type  to  fall  in  love  with  your  best  friend  and  never  tell  them  how  you  feel  because  you're  too  scared  to  ruin  what  you  already  have.  love,  for  you,  is  to  know  someone  better  than  you  know  yourself,  and  put  them  before  yourself  every  time.  you're  a  complete  sweetheart  who  needs  a  little  more  self  respect,  that's  all.

wanting  to  hold  their  hand  (and  never  quite  managing  to)

love,  for  you,  is  about  the  longing.  you  know  unrequited  love  well,  and  probably  fall  in  love  easily.  you  don't  mind  it  so  much,  you  love  finding  the  special  things  in  strangers.  when  you  love,  you  cherish  and  adore.  though  it's  hard  to  bring  up  the  confidence  to  admit  your  feelings,  you  know  that  one  day  someone  will  do  the  confessing  for  you  and  everything  will  be  easy  from  that  point  onwards.

making  out  under  the  covers

oh  boy.  you're  probably  not  ready  for  a  relationship  right  now,  are  you?  you're  full  of  so  much  love  and  passion,  that  you  don't  know  where  to  put  all  of  it,  and  sometimes  that  scares  you  a  bit  too  much.  you're  probably  the  type  to  catch  feelings  for  someone,  let  it  build  up,  and  run  away  the  moment  you  cross  a  line.  you  love  in  secret,  because  you're  scared  of  what  it  means  to  suddenly  be  vulnerable.  it's  okay,  take  your  time.  baby  steps.

[mirambles]

The Law Cafe - Episode 11 Kim Jung Ho’s confession.

At the end of episode 10, YuRi took the step ahead to resolve her conflict. She loves Jung Ho and doesn’t want the unfairness of her father’s case to be the reason stopping her from being with him. Kim JungHo has also inherited the guilt from his father and family’s doing and not being able to resolve the conflict. He has loved her for 17 years since they first met and wants to be with her; but hasn’t expressed the depth of his feelings to her as he doesn’t want to burden her. He hopes someday she will be able to forgive and come to him freely and he can love her openly without guilt. He has waited for 17 years and is willing to wait for however long it takes. That scene at her home was another example of what consent means in a relationship, not enforcing your feelings, but giving your partner the time to come to you. YuRi’s response cracked me up - she is so in character telling JungHo it won’t be a long wait because she is impatient by nature 😂

Kim YuRi has been oblivious to Jung Ho’s growing feelings and the flashbacks hint at this. But the moment she realised her feelings for him, she didn’t wait to express them and Jung Ho is baffled at how easy it’s been for her to express while he has struggled; but then that’s the beauty of these two characters who have stayed consistent from start to date. JungHo is an over thinker, YuRi is the free spirit. However, instances occur which make YuRi doubt that JungHo has not told her the entire truth about his growing feelings for her. The realisation scene for her is beautiful, she happened to mention during their college days that she would love to work with him in a cosy office in their neighbourhood once she had made enough money as lawyer. They weren’t in any relationship, probably fake dating and JungHo saved up and bought a whole ass building for her - for her! YuRi just drop everything and marry the guy (I’m materialistic like that). Lee Seung Gi being cold and practical to her when she is expressing her ideas, but that bright smile on his face when he takes the bookmark, he had me smiling from ear to ear. How JungHo managed to never express his feelings to her is something I will never understand.

YuRi being YuRi rushes to find JungHo and JungHo being JungHo is scared she wasn’t answering her phone. His worry for her security is natural knowing his family and his step-uncle. But YuRi is determined to get the truth out of him and asks if he has been lying about his feelings to her all this time.

This is where JungHo stepped higher into the ‘Green Flag’ zone, his love and desire for her runs so deep that he has not been able to date or love any other girls (and we know he tried a lot), he could have easily told her everything, but he never wanted to burden her. He doesn’t want her to come to him out of obligation or burdened by his feelings. And so he calmly tries to belittle his feelings by telling her it was a simple crush at that age like all boys have. But YuRi knows that he won’t tell her if she doesn’t push him over the edge and she refuses to accept this.

And so the dam bursts and Jung Ho asks her if it would it be fair on his part to burden her with his feelings - how he is dying to hold her, kiss her and make love to her , that he can no longer hold those feelings back despite the dangers that loom around them. And YuRi tells him yes, he should be sincere to her no matter what the situation.

Lee Seung Gi excelled in the next scene , his face is so innocent, his eyes so full of love and admiration for her, he finally has found the courage to tell his one true love that he has loved her all this time, from the beginning since they met, it’s only been her.

Anyone’s heart would melt at this confession and YuRi is no different, I love how YuRi tugs at JungHo’s shirt collar. It’s such a beautiful gesture, she leans in and kisses him. Lee Se Young’s expressions in her eyes are so on point.

JungHo is startled at first and then leans in and it’s one of the most beautiful kisses I have seen in KDramas. He gently wraps his arms around her and finally they both have found each other at last.

I love how deep their love is for each other, their concern for each other, their mutual respect for each other. They are honest and communicate, they are not afraid to express their vulnerability. Their desire for each other is so strong, its endearing , passionate and hot at the same time.

What followed the kiss scene is doing the rounds on twitter and social media - the scene could have easily bordered on obscene or become awkward (*cough business proposal*) , but credit to Lee Seung Gi & Lee Se Young for their chemistry. So comfortable, so natural, so effortless, so in character. YuRi and JungHo have been friends for 17 years and are well past the let’s get to know each other phase. They are in their mid 30s and with the conflict resolved, it’s natural to take the next step. Thank you to the writer and director for not showing them as a couple who does yoga , kisses dimples and brushes their teeth together!

The entire flow of the scene was organic and natural and yes it was hot and sensuous, but you know what was hotter? JungHo asking YuRi if she would be okay before proceeding. That’s CONSENT, that’s consistent writing , that’s being in character. JungHo has always given YuRi’s feelings topmost priority, never burdening her with his feelings and he stayed true to this even though he knew very well she loves him equally.

This is why The Law Cafe edges out a lot of Kdrama romcoms , this is why JungHo and YuRi are a superior couple. I have said time and again that Lee Seung Gi and Lee Se Young are absolute fire together in this drama and they are now amongst my top 2 favourite couples of all time in KDramas and so is this drama amongst my Top 2 romcoms.

[murphslass]

Nervous Much?

Pt.2 >> Pt.3 >>> Pt.4

Warnings: teasing, flirting, jealousy, fluff, plus sized!reader, slight angst

GIF Creds: @londoncapsule

Being someone on the heavier side always made you feel different. Either all eyes were on you or not even in your direction, especially when it came to men. You had been craving some sort of attention from guys but no one ever gave you time. Except weirdos who were more interested in you as an experience or just a chubby chaser. It was seriously so degrading and annoying.

You currently worked at a bar serving drinks and had a massive crush on the bartender Negan. He was gorgeous and such a charmer. He put the flirt mode on everytime he saw you or any other woman. So you always never took his words seriously whenever he would sweet talk you.

Saturday night was really busy like always, drunk frat boys and annoying girls all thirsty. These nights tired you out the most when going back and forth from the bar to tables. Drinks were super heavy and orders were growing complicated. Your break couldn’t come any sooner as one of the bartenders told you it was time. You silently thanked goodness as you placed your tray down. Going towards the back of the bar you stood outside and cursed under your breath.

“Fuck me…”

“Well don’t mind if I do sweet lips.”

You jumped at the voice and saw Negan smoking on the bench. You felt yourself getting flustered at his comment but remained calm on the outside.

“Sorry, didn’t know anyone else was out here.”

“Don’t apologize. I could use a beautiful gal’s company.”

You let out a giggle as moves to make room on the bench for you. Your feet felt instant relief as you sat down after hours of serving.

“Damn babygirl, you seem all worn out. They murdering you in there?”

“You have no idea. But I guess you’ll find out once you finish your cigarette.”

He chuckles as he takes a drag. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander to his pursed lips and how they parted to blow out the toxic smoke.

“See something you like babe?”

“Nope.”

You say quickly and turn away from him. Suddenly you felt anxious as Negan moved close and brought his arm to rest behind your shoulders.

“Wow. You must be so fucking on edge. You like me that much that I just get you all flustered in shit. Gotta say that shit is refreshing and adorable!”

He laughed loudly as you fiddled with your tank top and tried to look at his face. But you couldn’t help that remaining in eye contact made you feel tingly. Especially with that smile and it made you want to smile. Slowly your lips curled and he seemed happy with myself.

“Oh shit! There’s that pretty smile I’ve been dying to see. Look at you, such a fucking treat.”

You laugh and feeling more relaxed as he made comments.

“I know you probably gotta go back in soon but before you do could I borrow your phone? I actually lost mine in my truck.”

“Sure. Let me help.”

Negan stood with you and put out the cigarette as you followed him to his car. He unlocked the doors and called himself on your phone. As you tried listening for his phone you saw him pull it out of his pocket.

“Oh silly me. It was on me, but hey look here. I got some cute girl’s phone number now.”

You couldn’t say much as he saved your number and show that he put you in his phone as “Sweetcakes🍑” It made you feel all warm inside and maybe even a but confident. But that could wait as you realize your break was over. Rushing back inside and continuing labor for the drunks, you felt more at ease as Negan began his shift. He would look over towards you with a grin and made drinks.

After a few hours and growing close to closing up you saw a girl desperately flirting with Negan. She was the only few left in the building and it made you feel anger. The way he was looking at her and smiling at her made you feel sad. Was he really just pulling your strings for a quick fuck or was it just being nice. Gradually the last few left except the girl and you had to approach her.

“Excuse me ma’am. But were closed now.”

“I’m not done with my drink yet sweetie.”

“I can see that but it’s late and we all want to go home.”

“Fine then. Meet me outside you handsome devil.”

Your fingers gripped at your tray as you masked the jealousy you felt. She walked with an obvious sway in her hips and turned to wink at Negan.

“You can go Negan. I’ll clean up the bar and close up.”

“What makes you think I wanna leave?”

“Well your dates leaving isn’t she?”

“Oh please. I only flirt whenever I know the tip is gonna be huge. And boy did she tip.”

He said as held up the fifty dollars she left for his service. You still couldn’t shake the bad feeling she brought.

“Oh! I get it now. You’re jealous aren’t you?”

“I am not!”

You say as you wiped off the bar top with a damp rag. He giggled to himself as he dried glasses and watched you closely. The music played low in the background as you finish organizing everything. Negan followed and turned off all the lights, you both met the exit and locked the door. As you stepped out you wanted say something to Negan but that girl was outside waiting for him.

“Hey sexy. Wanna take me home?”

Negan cleary felt uncomfortable as she touched his arm and got a little too close. You were about to walk away before Negan took a hold on your wrist.

“Sorry. But my girlfriend and I are heading home. However, I did appreciate the tip.”

“Are fucking kidding me? You and this fucking whale?”

“Hey now, no need for disrespect missy.”

You felt nervous as he forcefully pulled you by the waist to toward his body.

“Ready to go home baby?”

Before you could answer he brought you into a deep heated kiss. You gasp against his lips and melted into him. Your concentration left as he held you so protectively and carefully. You let out a noise when he pulled away and you saw the girl stomp away. He laughed as walked you to your car and kept his hold on you. The courage you had left as you couldn’t face him after such a kiss.

“So can I expect another kiss?”

“From me?”

“Of course you sugar lips. Besides I hope you didn’t mind me calling mine. But if you like me as you perceive to, I think you’d like to be mine baby.”

You didn’t have much to say as you lean your back against your car with him standing next to you.

“How about this, I take you on a date. Dinner or a movie or whatever you’d like sweetcakes. That’s only if ya want to though.”

“That would be nice. But are you sure you’d want to? I mean look at me.”

“Fuck yes! I’ve been staring at you all night wanting to do all kinds of things, especially things go further than kissing.”

He says as moves hold your hand and look deeply in his eyes. Negan kisses your hand before stepping away but you stop him but grabbing his shirt.

“Wait!”

“Yes honey.”

“Could we maybe kiss again?”

He smirks and gently pins you against your car before kissing you yet again. His lips taking dominance over you so quickly and you submitted under his hold. You stay like this for a few minutes and just enjoy the treatment. You then groan frustrated as your phone rang in your pocket. You pull away and see your roomate calling.

“Yes?”

“You aren’t home yet so I just wanted to check on you.”

“Oh! I’m fine, just taking care of things.”

Your breath hitch as Negan kissed your neck and groped at your ass. You went to end the call fast and tugged at Negan’s hair to stop him.

“I gotta get going.”

“So soon?”

“Yeah I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just know I’ll be texting you and most definitely gonna stroke my cock to this very moment.”

You face grew red and yet he laughed at your nervous attitude. His lips kissed your cheek as he pulls away to his vehicle. You couldn’t believe it at first but now it all sank in, you got a boyfriend now.

Part 2 🤭🤭???

JDM TAGLIST:

@ffakc @negans-attagirl @jonasdean02 @eddiesgirl @littlebadgirly @cosmilla @iluvneganandjamie @little-bad-girly @ohyoubetterbejokin @bratty-dolly @jdmsgal

[wondersofdreaming]

Keepsake

Characters: Captain Syverson x female reader (3rd person)

Word count: 1.827

Warnings: Death, loss, hopelessness, light cursing, sadness, melancholy, grief, heartache, mourning.

Author’s note: This story was inspired by the song 'Everglow' by Coldplay.

Do me a favour and listen to the song, while reading this, I'll link to the different versions, depending on your mood.

Everglow (original) by Coldplay

Everglow (acoustic) by Coldplay

Everglow (instrumental) by Alexandre Pachabezian

The links are for Spotify, if they don't work try this link for YouTube

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the wife, son and Elijah Reed, who are figments of my imagination.

A massive, MASSIVE, thank you to my beloved angel, @radaofrivia, for giving me the idea from just a few thoughts, for sitting through with me while I wrote this, for giving me advice and for just being there.

Please check out her stories right here: RADA'S MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

(Young Syverson, picture credit to @killjoy-assbutt-1112 - find it here)

Oh, they say people come Say people go This particular diamond was extra special And though you might be gone And the world may not know Still I see you, celestial

Lyrics are from Everglow by Coldplay.

The looming grey clouds were moving closer towards him. He could hear the distant sounds of the rumbling thunder. Before long it started to rain and lightning lit up the entire house. The dirt road was flooded in no time, giving the crops the liquid nourishment they needed.

The former army captain was restless. It was on days like these he missed him, more than anything else in the world. He couldn’t sit still and had planned on working on the house, but the coming storm was putting a stop to that. Instead, he sat on the porch swing he built with Elijah when Lucas bought the house.

The Syversons had moved to their farm when Lucas was 4. A few days into the move, their neighbours had stopped by with some casserole, and to welcome them to their community. Mr and Mrs Reed also had a son who was a few months younger than Luc. Elijah had hidden behind his mother’s leg, a little shy, but with some encouragement he greeted Lucas.

“I’m Lucas, but my baby sister can’t say it yet, she keeps babbling Luc, so if it’s easier, you can call me Luc too.”

“I’m Elijah.”

Sy remembered he was trying so hard to pronounce his new friend’s name. He smiled at the memory, the name had been permanent in Lucas’ mind, only using Elijah, when he was mad at him or thinking he was about to do something stupid, which he did often.

“Lija, wanna play?” Lucas asked awkwardly.

“What?” Elijah looked profoundly confused. “I… don’t know.”

“Go on, son. It’s okay,” Mr Reed tried to encourage him.

“Come with me, Lija. I wanna show ya somethin’.”

Lucas had shown Elijah his new toy tractor that his parents had given him for his birthday. The two young boys had played together, and before long were inseparable.

A round yellow object in the palm of his hand. He was fiddling with it. The coin was always in his pocket, so he could keep his best friend close to him at all times. It was an old arcade coin that you could plot into any machine and play one game.

The two best friends had each gotten a dollar’s worth of coins, but the man at the ticket booth had miscounted, so Sy had gotten an extra coin, which the two friends had fought over during their time in the arcade. Lucas being the protector he was, lost to Elijah on purpose, so his friend won the coin.

“I’ll savour it, it’s going to be my lucky coin!” Elijah has announced.

Syverson swung the porch swing with his booted foot. He stared at the coin, wondering why he had been the lucky one. Luc shook his head faintly, his face full of pain and sorrow.

The coin became a thing that decided their fate. When the boys couldn’t agree on something, they would flip the coin. The picture side was heads and the text ‘No cash value’ side was tails. It might have been worth nothing, but it was a priceless item to the two friends.

“Heads: I ask her on a date, tails: you ask her,” Elijah flipped the yellow coin and covered the back of his hand as it landed. The two teenagers looked over at the brunette cheerleader, who was laughing with her friends. Prom was upon them and they both wanted to ask her. Elijah lifted his hand, it was heads.

The dumb coin was always on Elijah’s side. Lucas let out a soft laughter of the memory. Elijah’s face had been priceless, Sy wished he had taken a picture of it. It had been Elijah’s first kiss that night.

When Lucas decided to enlist, Elijah followed him, even with a lot of arguing against it from Sy’s side. He didn’t want his best friend anywhere near a warzone but in the end, he was glad that Lija was there with him through every hardship during training, when they lost people on their team, when they had to carry the dead back to base, it was better to have a friend by your side and share the pain with.

It didn’t take Syverson long to rank up and become captain. He ended up leading a large group of soldiers in a village in Iraq, with Elijah as his lieutenant, he felt like he could conquer the world.

During one of their trips home, Sy had bought a house he wanted to renovate, maybe start a family in. Elijah had spent every moment he could, helping Lucas with the house. It had made them closer as friends, and they had heartfelt talks about their future. Elijah wanted to come home and help his ailing parents with the farm, maybe get into breeding horses, preferably racehorses. Sy hadn’t thought of his future in that sense by then. He just wanted to relax, drink beer and ride his motorcycle.

There was hardly a moment in Lucas’ life where Elijah wasn’t a part of it. Elijah was his best friend, and if he had to be a little girly, they were BFFs. His best friend’s presence had made every moment special, made them better. It was the hardest part, to not have Elijah by his side anymore. He missed Elijah’s silly, huge and sometimes irritating grin, which somehow made the world seem a bit brighter during the dark times. Elijah made his life easier… he just made it better to have a friend to share everything with.

His heart had broken in a million pieces when the building collapsed on top of his best mate.

“Captain, we need a scouting team. I’m taking three soldiers towards those buildings and see if there are enemies up ahead,” Elijah had suggested.

“Lieutenant, I make the orders here. I’m going,” Lucas commanded.

“Heads or tails, Luc,” Elijah picked out the coin from his breast pocket.

“This is no time for such thing, Lija,” the captain grumbled.

“This is the perfect time, Luc. We promised that whenever we couldn’t agree on something, we would use the coin. So, heads or tails, captain Syverson.”

“Heads.”

The coin had landed on the tails side. Lucas had cursed the coin, fuck, shit, crap, dammit!

“It’s my turn to protect you, Luc. I’m not the scrawny little kid anymore, let me show you!”

Elijah had gathered three soldiers and run between two concrete buildings with a big smile on his face. Sy would never forget the smile. It was a grin of pride and determination. And it was the last time Lucas would ever see his best friend.

Moments later a huge explosion shook the ground they were standing on. Sy watched with horror as the buildings collapsed, trapping Elijah and his team. What they didn’t know then was that the impact with the concrete walls had killed him instantly.

The rest of the soldiers watched as their captain went on his knees. Utter despair and anguish plastered on his face, tears about to escape the corners of his eyes. The usual strict army captain, the man with the muscles, the tough guy who could break you with a stare, was breaking down.

“Lija…” he whispered into the dust-filled space, his voice breathless like somebody knocked the air out of his lungs.

At night he had screamed in pain of the loss of his most beloved friend. His days were filled with hopelessness as he prepared to fly home with Elijah’s corpse in a coffin. The nights only brought nightmares, so he started writing a letter to his best friend and thinking of how to tell Elijah’s parents.

“Dear Lija. I can’t believe you’re… Shit, I can’t even write the word. Just a four-letter word, and yet I can’t fucking write it down on a piece of paper. I wish I could have taken your place, man. It should have been me. I hate you for forcing me to pick a side on that stupid coin. I hate you for being so brave. I hate you for wanting to protect me. Fuck you for dying. Fuck you for leaving me. Here. All alone. What about your parents? How am I going to tell them that you’re… how am I going to face them? You are and will always be my best friend. I wish you could go back to your parent’s farm on your own two legs, not in a fucking box. I miss you, Lija. You’re the closest thing to a brother I will ever get. So rest in peace and keep the seat next to you warm, I’ll see you on the other side. - Luc.”

Lucas had sneaked the letter into Elijah’s breast pocket of his uniform before they had shut the coffin. The coin that Elijah had on him, had been put in a plastic bag with the rest of his belongings, prepped to be given to his next of kin, his parents. But Lucas took the yellow token. He needed a memento to remember his best friend by, something that he could keep with him always. A keepsake.

It had taken every ounce of courage for Lucas to step up to the front door of the Reed’s farmhouse. A house he was so familiar with and had so many adventurous sleepovers in Elijah’s space-themed bedroom. He could smell Mrs Reed’s famous peanut brittle, making it harder for him to knock, but he did it anyway. Standing there in his military uniform, he told the two people, who had acted as a second set of parents to him, that their only son had died heroically in battle. Lucas stood frozen, watching them mourn the loss of their son. He was about to step away to give them space, but Mrs Reed grabbed his wrist and brought him into the hug.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him,” he pleaded, his voice breaking slightly.

“Was he in pain?” Mrs Reed asked, breaking Lucas’ heart all over again.

“No, ma’am. It happened really fast.”

Sy fiddled with the arcade coin. Having zoned out the thunder, not noticing the storm had come and gone. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon. It was a peaceful ending to an emotional day.

A loud wailing came from inside the house. The front door opened and out came his beautiful wife with their young son in her arms. His face was stained in tears. The tiny boy reached towards his father the minute he saw him. In his father’s arms was the only place the boy was happy and content. Sy’s face broke into a happy grin at the sight of his son. His tiny fingers trying to grab the coin in the former captain’s hand.

“This,” Sy showed it to his son, “will be yours when you’re old enough not to eat it.”

He chuckled at the frustrated look on the boy’s face. Sy kissed the top of his son’s head.

“I love you, Elijah.”

[chaozsilhouette]

Turbulent Beginnings

This forms the opening act to Macaque’s story, showing just how different his and Wukong’s early lives were and why he took Wukong’s disappearance so hard.

The idea Macaque was born from the wind was inspired by @animemoonprincess. And yes, I am a shameless fan of Macaque originally having white fur. The angst is just too perfect.

Brace yourselves, this isn’t going to be pretty. I am essentially shoving our boy through an emotional meat grinder.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

On a remote island, a day’s travel from China’s eastern shore, a massive hurricane raged as it had since the beginning of this world. The surrounding storms fed into it as its winds carved stone. No life had dared blossom on its soil out of fear of a painful demise. The merciless storm drank deeply of the waters of the sea, draining all aspects of potential and life before casting it aside. Not even curious spirits were spared.

Various deities had wondered why such a storm existed or why the Jade Emperor allowed such a dangerous presence to continue unchecked. Most believed that since the hurricane was stationary and prove no threat to the established order of the world, it was not important.

One day the hurricane vanished. As though it had never existed. Or rather that it had been transformed into something else.

It was the night of a new moon and with the hurricane gone, the island experienced its first cloudless sky. The only one to witness the momentous occasion was a monkie with pure white fur and six ears. Minding his manners, the nameless monkie bowed to the four winds in greeting.

The newborn proceeded to spend his days searching the island for something. Some clue as to the reason behind his birth. He could hear strange voices and words he didn’t understand yet at the same time could. He knew he wasn’t the only creature alive, so why was he alone?

For food, he walked his way through a cave system towards the sea, where he enjoyed the fish that were drawn in through the whirlpools and the mussels that clung to the sharp rocks. He grew to savor the taste of life, even though there was a part of him that craved something different.

Almost forty years passed before he mustered the courage to leave everything he knew to seek out those voices. He gathered all the driftwood and rope that had drifted onshore over the decades, fashioned it into a makeshift raft, and sailed towards the closest source of voices.

His voyage was actually pretty boring once he cleared the whirlpools.

The only exciting part about it was when that strange fish tried to sink his raft. It was bigger than any fish he’d previously seen with a mouth to match. Didn’t mean it survived past the first blow. Taking a bite Macaque wasn’t sure if he liked this fish. The muscles were tough and the flesh was rough on his tongue. He didn’t particularly like the taste. But there was enough to feed him for a full day.

In the end, he chose to eat a third of the fish’s muscles along with its heart before tossing back into the water.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Docking on dry land was an experience that would haunt him for years.

At first, he was filled with wonder at the sight of buildings and new creatures riding rafts far bigger than his.

When he stepped onto shore the whispers began.

The creatures, who he later learned were called humans, were pointing out his ears. They acknowledged his obvious intelligence. He heard them grip wooden instruments tightly. It was as if they expected him to do something.

No one made a move against him. No one approached him, but he could tell he wasn’t wanted. Everywhere he turned he saw eyes that cursed his every existence.

He didn’t stay in that village for long. In his mind, satisfying his curiosity wasn’t worth being stared at as though he was the source of all evil.

Demon.

That is what they called him. Was that what he was?

He didn’t know, but he didn’t like it.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He aimlessly wandered the countryside for far too long.

The first act of kindness he received was from a couple who could not have children of their own. He stumbled upon them by accident, but instead of the normal fearful expressions he’d come to expect they greeted him with genuine smiles and an offer to join them for dinner.

They took him in and treated him like family. He became the son they always wanted. They taught him how to properly speak and how to walk comfortably on two limbs. They blessed him with a name.

They were kind and nurturing. In another world, they may have been called bodhisattvas. But sadly, due to them being ordinary mortals, his time with them only lasted four decades.

He buried them with love but grew resentful of his weak emotions.

He learned what it was like to have someone welcome him home after a long day. He learned to savor the taste of a mother’s home-cooked meal. He enjoyed having a father figure who was willing to teach him old military tactics. He experienced friendly competitions to see who could paint the most accurate portrait of a flower they saw earlier that day. It was everything he never knew he craved and then it was gone. Leaving him with an empty home and a broken heart.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Nearly fifty years later he joined a band of traveling performers.

Their natural oddities allowed them to see who he really was and welcome him into their party. With their compassion, he was granted the opportunity to heal. He learned that despite the group’s large size, very few of them had any direct blood relations. What made them special was how they created their own family and turned what many called strange into something beautiful. Out of respect, he delved into the world of entertainment, found he had a natural talent for it.

When he took the stage people assumed he was in costume, but that didn’t matter. The applause of the audience was a gift he cherished. The sheer passion this family expressed through every second in life warmed his heart beyond words. They were just what he needed to bring him out of his depression.

Alas, it was not meant to stay.

One night their camp was ambushed by a group of demons. They were nothing special, hardly worth mentioning. But for him, back then, it was a fight he never imagined. He could easily handle human bandits, so could his family, but never had he traded blows with a small army of his fellow demons. With the rising of the sun, Macaque stared at the cruelly bright sky covered in blood. All around him bodies lay scattered, life essence soaking into the ground. Despite being tasked with fighting off nearly five dozen demonic opponents he managed to survive with barely a scratch, but he was alone. Again.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tried to change things by sticking to his fellow demons. At least they lived longer.

Somehow that ended up with him becoming the apprentice to a demon healer for almost a century. She was a cold-hearted bitch with a heart of gold. Meticulous in her work, masterful in deduction, and short-tempered with the foolish. She gave everything to her practice and expected the same from him. It was bitter work, but he found it fulfilling. The knowledge that he now possessed the ability to restore others to peak condition settled some unknown part of his soul.

Of course, they would have visitors who wished to take advantage of her skills or steal the medicine. Between the two of them, they protected their clinic, but they weren’t always together. While she may try to hide it, she wasn’t the strongest demon out there. Apparently, the entire reason she got into medicine was to uncover why she was so weak. Centuries of research turned up nothing, but it did make her incredibly skilled at using poisons with her knives to compensate.

One day after he returned from gathering ingredients, he pulled back the door to find the shop in disarray, five unknown bodies slowly dying of extensive blood poisoning, and his master bleeding out from her severed arms. She always said she had no intention of entering Naraka alone.

Guess she kept her word.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

The cycle repeated itself over centuries. He would experience a brief window of happiness only for it to be savagely stolen from him, leaving him to mourn and curse his weak heart.

The small glimmers of kindness humanity showed him only made him curse their race even harder when he couldn’t walk into a village without being harassed. The humans who had proven stronger were sadly a rare breed. He was rare to encounter one a century and often they perished at the hands of their kind rather than by demons.

There were times when the ignorance had gotten so bad he’d taken to traveling with a constant glamour, disguising himself as an average human. Whenever he was in the presence of other demons, he allowed his true form to manifest, however, he made it look like he only had a single pair of ears. Standing out was the easiest way to wind up in a complicated situation he had no interest in trying to defuse.

That’s not to say his time was wasted.

Quite the contrary, he had learned much during his travels. He could hardly be compared to the happy young monkie, who was ignorant of the dangers and hardships this world held. In a sad attempt to fill the void, Macaque sought out wisdom and strength. He located masters of both the mystic and martial arts. He may have had to lie about his age, he was becoming quite the accomplished liar, but the results were more than worth it. With every stop, he found himself growing more certain of his strength and his identity.

Eventually, he discovered a strange monastery hidden in a cave in the face of a mountain.

He had never seen anything like it during his travels. But what truly drew his attention was the feeling the temple exuded, every stone exuded a strange aurora. Something powerful dwelled within, powerful yet there was an undeniably human quality to it all.

Hiding beneath his usual glamor, Macaque approached the temple with the desire to discover exactly what was being taught. Before he knew what was happening, he was speaking to the immortal sage who was running the joint. Master Subhuti welcomed him to his home and offered some tea. The disguised monkie was bombarded by dozens of questions, all of which he attempted to answer as though he was a normal human.

The master welcomed him as his newest disciple and showed him his new home. Later he learned the master could see through his disguise and sensed his potential. Apparently, the old immortal believed that the monkie would do well to learn his disciplines and he was fascinated by the monkie’s natural talent.Said something about how with proper guidance only the Buddha would be able to peer past his façade.

The monkie even received a new name to celebrate his rebirth. From that day forward he was Liu’Er Mihou, or the Six-Eared Macaque. He liked it. While he cherished the name his first family gifted him, he felt this was a good sign. A tribute to show that he was a changed monkie.

Regardless, he refused to drop his glamor. He had seen too many demons be cast out and attacked for getting sloppy. The other students were not thrilled about the newcomer showing them up and he wasn’t willing to give them a true reason to despise him. He learned quickly, more so than any other human disciple, but that put him at odds with those who were still struggling after years of training.

Macaque distanced himself from the others. They weren’t that interesting anyway. He didn’t care that they talked about him behind his back or were fully aware he could hear them. He couldn’t risk getting close so soon. He was determined to break the cycle. He didn’t care about immortality. He didn’t care about obtaining power. All he wanted was to end the pain. So far things had been working out in his favor.

Then heshowed up…

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

That trice damned monkie with peach-colored fur and markings like a golden mask. He was so naïve about the world. He treated everything as though it was some exciting game. His upbeat energy made Macaque sick. Some twisted part of him wanted to snap his neck just to end it, but a small part was fascinated by it. The other monkie reminded him of a time he had almost forgotten.

The Monkey King, or Sun Wukong, didn’t bother hiding his true appearance. Truthfully, Macaque wasn’t sure he knew how or that he should. He didn’t seem to notice how other students would keep their distance or how they kept their conversations as brief as possible without crossing the threshold into being considered rude.

He was so earnest and happy, it was painful. The new monkie pestered everyone about everything, it was like dealing with a newborn, but it seemed Macaque was his favorite to bother. The worst part was how he stared at Macaque as though he could peer past his glamour. Although Macaque wasn’t sure if that was truly possible. The Master could, but he dedicated centuries to refine his skills. Wait. How old was this annoyance? Perhaps he could smell he wasn’t like the other disciples.

Either way, he knew it was just a matter of time until the truth got out. He just didn’t expect it to be when he was changing.

Each student was offered a meager room for privacy. They were all the same size and offered little to no space for any customization, but the walls were enchanted to cut out sound whenever the doors were closed.

Behind those flimsy walls was the only time Macaque allowed his glamor to drop. While he valued being cautious, even he couldn’t keep up the glamour indefinitely, much less when he was asleep.

It was in that small space of safety that he discovered he wasn’t alone.

He had just allowed himself to relax when a smiling face covered in peach fuzz was shoved into his own.

“I knew it! You’re like me.” Sun Wukong happily exclaimed, stars practically dancing in his eyes.

“Shut up.” Macaque clamped his hand over the other’s mouth. Checking to ensure no one else was present and the door was shut, he faced the intruder. “Have you told anyone?” He hissed, while berating himself for failing to check the ceiling. You always look up when scanning a room, he knew that.

“Nope. Why are you hiding? You’re beautiful.” The cheerful demon spoke as though they were old friends. His golden eyes took in every hair of his fellow monkie’s true appearance.

“I’m a demon. And there is nothing beautiful about me.” Macaque growled.

“Yes, there is.” Wukong insisted. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you hiding? The Master let me in, I wager he knows about you, so why?”

Sighing, Macaque massaged the bridge of his nose. “I have been hurt enough times to know keeping a low profile is optimal in survival. It is better to keep one’s head down than risk getting called out.” From observation, he knew the newer student wouldn’t leave until he received answers, so the best option was to just give him what he wanted and pray he knew enough to leave.

“That’s no fun.” Wukong stuck his tongue out in distaste. “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. We were born this way.” He jumped high into the air only to catch himself on his tail with a cheeky grin. “So, they’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Cute speech. But my answer is no. Now leave.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix that attitude right up.” Thankfully Wukong left, but not before sending a smile laced with mischief his way. “See you tomorrow.”

Macaque prayed to every deity that would be the end of it. But even he knew it was a futile attempt.

“Do you have a tribe?” Wukong asked, hanging by his tail from Macaque’s favorite tree.

A startled Macaque blinked at the random question. “A what?”

“A tribe. A family. A place to call home?” Wukong asked smoothly even if he wasn’t familiar with the term family until recently he knew it was important.

“Not anymore.” Glaring Macaque returned his focus to his meal.

“Aw.” Wukong knew that look. He had seen plenty of monkeys wear that arura after watching other tribe members die. “Then you should come with me!”

“What?”

“Yeah. You can join my tribe. There are dozens of us back home. Plenty of food and water, you’ll constantly be surrounded by others like us.”

“Other demons?”

“No.” Wukong smiled as though he told a funny joke. “Other monkeys.”

“There is no reason for me to join you.” Macaque stated, wishing he could finish his lunch in peace.

But Wukong wasn’t letting him go that easily. “And there’s no reason for you to refuse.” He stated, ignoring any and all social cues or common sense for respecting personal space.

It went on like that for years. Every day Macaque would awake to find gold eyes staring at him, waiting for his answer to change. Breaks were spent dodging the hyperactive monkie as he tried to eat alone. Training sessions soon found him sparring with the same partner.

The monkie was stubborn no doubt and Macaque feared his actions were slowly breaking down his walls. The pale furred monkie missed having a connection. He adored being able to talk to others, but whenever he opened up he only got hurt.

But maybe, maybe this time could be different…

Wukong was training to obtain immortality. He had already proven to be stronger and more clever than anyone he’d known. The simian showed that he wanted to know him better. He constantly tried to touch his fur, something he called grooming, which felt pretty nice.

Maybe…maybe this time he could truly have a home.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

A streak of light accompanied by a sharp whistle pierced the night sky. For a brief moment, it vanished before exploding in a beautiful display of color and light.

On the monastery’s rooftop, Wukong backflipped in joy at the sight, his golden eyes wide. “Happy New Year!” The monkie cried. In the village below, he could make out dozens of voices echoing the greeting.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw them, fireworks were a sight he always adored. “This has got to be mankind’s greatest invention!” The flowers of fire were simply too beautiful. So unique. Nothing on Flower Fruit Mountain compared to such beauty, it made him thankful he decided to leave.

From the corner of his eye, Wukong noticed that his companion was clutched his ears wincing with every detonation. “You okay, bud?”

“I’m fine. Just loud.” Macaque said. He was truly questioning his sanity by joining Wukong on the roof. Normally he barricaded himself in his room, but his friend was so thrilled about sharing their first New Year together he couldn’t say no.

“Oh.” Somehow the new set of fireworks didn’t look that attractive. “We can go inside if you want.” They were beautiful, but nothing was worth feeling helpless as his friend curled up in pain.

“I’ll be fine. I’m adjusting to the volume. No different than punches that break the sound barrier, right?” Macaque tried flashing a confident grin to varying success.

Wukong suspected that Macaque was lying, but learned enough to know further prying would just cause the other monkie to simply shut out the world. “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

“You made a persuasive argument.” Anyone who could harass him for nearly five years straight proved their determination.

Wukong playfully stuck his tongue out. “Hehe…Seriously though, I’m happy you chose to be part of my tribe. No one should be alone.”

“Then why have I been for so long.”

“I doubt even Master knows. But you won’t be able to say that anymore.” Wukong wrapped his arms around his best friend. Pulling him close, Wukong faced the fireworks, unconsciously grooming Macaque as he savored every pop of color.

Beneath those gentle digits, Macaque steadied himself against the soothing heartbeat of the one he slowly learned to trust. As the display continued, the pale monkie learned to appreciate the human’s creations. Turns out they weren’t so bad so long as you have the right company.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

“I’m sorry. You’re what?!” Macaque’s response was perfectly justified. There was no way he just heard what he thought he heard.

Wukong flashed a blinding grin. “I’m heading to the Celestial realm. I’ve been given a position in Celestial Bureaucracy.” Not seeing any problems whatsoever.

“Why?” Just why? From everything he heard about those stuck-up deities, they would never hand over a position to anyone without requiring the completion of an impossible task, much less to a demon. Least of all a demon who has done nothing but terrorize others and unleash chaos whenever he went.

“Don’t know. But I got to go right now.” Wukong shrugged as he finished packing. The Gold Star of Venus was waiting just outside the waterfall.

“But what about Flower Fruit Mountain? What about your subjects? What am I supposed to do? How long are you going to be gone?” Macaque fired off a rapid stream of questions. Panic was beginning to take hold.

Wukong, however, was as calm and confident as ever. “Stop worrying so much. Look I’ll be back as soon as I can. Until then you’re in charge.” He finished as though it was obvious.

“Me!” A white tail nearly burst into twice its normal size in shock. “But I have no idea how to run a Court!”

“Neither do I. Not in the traditional sense at least. Look just keep an eye on things. Protect the monkeys from hunters and malicious demons. Sometimes one of the allied demon kings will ask for some help. It’s nothing you haven’t helped me with before. I’ll be back before you know it. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle things until I get back.”

Seeing his companion and good friend growing even more lost, Wukong closed the distance and took his face in both hands. “This is a good thing. If I can make this work, none of us will ever have to worry about being hunted or not having enough food ever again.”

In a snap, Macaque grabbed the king’s arms. “What if I don’t care about any of that? What if I just want you to stay?”

For the first time in their conversation, Wukong’s cocky attitude vanished replaced with a loving smile. Gently prying Macaque’s claws off his shirt, Wukong placed his cheek on a palm as he kissed the knuckles of another. “I can’t. This is too good an opportunity to pass up. This isn’t goodbye. I’ll keep in touch. The time will fly. We’ll make this work. Trust me.”

“Alright, Wukong. I trust you.” Macaque said, ignoring every fiber of his being that screamed this would end poorly.

“If things go wrong, remember I’m just a telepathic call away.” Summoning his cloud, Wukong back flipped onto it with his bag. “Monkey King, out!”

One sonic boom later and he was gone, along with a good chunk of the cave walls.

“Hpmh. That’s my idiot.”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

How did this happen? How did this happen?!

One moment they were fighting for their lives against the army of the Celestial Realm and the next Macaque bore witness to Wukong being carted away in a diamond snare.

Now as he stared at the charred remains of what once was a growing village of monkeys, Macaque felt something within him change.

For almost two months he had burned in celestial fires. The sounds of the dead and dying rang out, making his namesake almost bleed. He choked on the ashes of the mortal monkeys. The air had a strangely sweet and bitter taste to it.

Macaque lost count of all the times he charged back into the fires to save as many heartbeats as he could. He wasn’t sure but he suspected he blacked out more than once. With every heartbeat that stilled before he could reach them, a part of him followed them into Yama’s realm.

Finally, the fires had died down. They didn’t have anything left to burn.

All around him he saw the pitiful leftovers of what was once a thriving community. He had treated the survivors the best he could, but he lost his medical equipment in the blaze. The only ones he didn’t have to worry about were the monkeys Wukong made immortal, but he did what he could to ease the pain.

But still, he wondered why…why were they staring at him as though they were confused?

Maybe he was overthinking everything. He just worked through 49 days without any sleep. Everything was stable for now. The best course of action was to wash off the ash and get some much-deserved rest.

There was nothing the Celestial Realm could do to Wukong that he couldn’t handle. Besides Macaque didn’t even know how to get there even if he was at full strength. Wukong couldn’t die so it was only a matter of time before someone tripped up allowing him to return home.

He just had to be patient.

Stepping into the clear river, Macaque’s jaw almost dropped as the water around him immediately turned gray. He didn’t realize he was that filthy.

He started scrubbing himself, ducking under the water to ensure he didn’t miss a spot. He had to move a few times due to the sheer amount of shoot and ash that clung to him. The entire cleaning process took a full hour before the water ran clear.

Stepping out, Macaque felt more refreshed than he ever remembered. Shaking to remove as much access water as possible, all the towels were soot so he had to make do, he paused by the waterside to see how much fur he lost. But what he saw met none of his expectations.

Instead of fur that invoked images of the moon, he was cloaked in the color of the darkest ink.

“What happened to me?”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Five hundred years.

Five hundred years he searched, for any trace of the legendary Five-Fingered Moutain Buddha used to trap Sun Wukong only to find nothing. Macaque scoured far and wide. Neither the winds nor the shadows could lead him towards his friend.

He picked fights with countless demons who claimed to witness the great Monkey King brought low. It barely took two punches before they broke down crying how it had been nothing but a lie, how they only repeated rumors.

He bargained for any information he could find, but all accounts claimed the mountain didn’t exist. Many refused to answer him on principle of not interfering with the Celestial Realm’s issues. Their last mistake. Others took Wukoong’s punishment as a sign to amass as much power as possible out of fear that they would be targeted next.

Macaque had witnessed the formation of more alliances and territory grabs in the past century than had been recorded in the last thousand years. Demons were becoming more power-hungry and suspicious, which meant even more trouble for the humans. Things were becoming so chaotic, Macaque had to wonder if it was planned.

But he couldn’t dwell on that.

He hadn’t visited Flower Fruit Moutain in years. His clones kept guard, but slowly he was losing the drive to keep replenishing them. The only reason he called that mountain home was because of Wukong. It wasn’t home without him.

But he had to keep looking. Had to keep trying. He would find his friend.

Somehow.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tricked himself into thinking this would be different. That he would no longer be alone. That finally he had found a family he could keep.

He was an idiot!

The truth was he was no different than anyone else. The world was Sun Wukong’s toy chest and Macaque was merely a shiny new trinket to bat around until he grew bored. Seeing him with that group, knowing that he chose them over their past, was too much.

He was sick of being left behind. He had been left alone so many times. What made him think he couldn’t be replaced?

He could have attacked, ripped their precious monk to pieces, he could have...should have...but he was tired.

Returning to Flower Fruit Mountain was a chore, but one he swore he would never complete again. The monkeys questioned his return, asking where their king was and if he’d return soon. Macaque ignored them all. He simply walked to the part of the manor he and Wukong had shared for years, where he had been waiting for his return.

Staring at all the knickknacks and souvenirs they had collected from their adventures, Macaque made up his mind. Grabbing a large sturdy bag, he swiftly packed his essentials. In another, he packed non-perishable goods and water containers.

Stepping out, a flash of something peach-colored caught his eye. Spinning around, hope burning a hole in his chest but his dreams once more were proved false. It was just the special peach tree Wukong had planted from the leftover pit he had saved from his time in the Celestial Realm. Apparently, it had reached maturity and was proudly bearing the first fruit Macaque had seen despite having been planted nearly half a millennia ago.

Macaque wasn’t sure why it was so special, Wukong just winked and said it was a surprise for when they could share a fresh one. Feeling something wet on his arm, Macaque looked down to see his hand stretched towards the tree and the memories he held. Feeling his cheeks, he realized he was crying, which was strange as he didn’t think he had any tears left.

Spurred by longing and spite, Macaque plucked six peaches from the tree and stuffed them into his bag. It wasn’t like Wukong was going to miss them. And he needed the food.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Telling the Truth

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader, but also Magneto and Peter father/son interaction!

Summary: Continuation from previous chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse, you and the others finally defeat Apocalypse, just to end up stranded together until a way home can be devised. During the wait, you get to clear up some things with Peter on your feelings for him. Yet all goes sideways when Peter finally works up the courage to tell Magneto the truth about being his son.

Notes: For those that know the movies by heart, I made some more changes closer to the comics obviously. You’ll see.

Warnings: Some cursing, especially during the impromptu therapy session of Magneto and Peter unleashing their emotional baggage.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

You didn’t know what you felt anymore. In a way it was like being outside of yourself. Just watching from somewhere far away even as you were pouring every ounce of strength you had left into your hands, blasting Apocalypse’s shield over and over.

You were trying to cause even the slightest, tangible bit of damage to him, just as Magneto was, just as Scott was. And yet, even with the three of you giving all you had, the monster had already gathered himself up again. With just the movement of one hand, he’d thrown Hank violently to the side when Beast had gotten too close while trying to help you all.

And only moments after Hank’s unconscious body had come to rest, Scott had faltered as well. In exhaustion, he’d finally had to close his eyes, pulling his glasses back down as he’d staggered backward. Then with another flick of the wrist, Apocalypse had all too easily slammed the boy into a building, the wall he hit then swelling out to cover and encase him like some living horror.

You could still hear Scott screaming even as you realized Apocalypse had now turned his attention towards you. With his every step closer, that numbness grew within you. You were too weak to fly away now, after all the energy you’d thrown at him, you were barely still standing.

But you could see the irritation in his expression. It was obvious that he couldn’t understand your loyalty to one another. Why any of you would be fighting this hard, just to die.

He kept reusing the same tricks, but they were effective. As the earth shot up around you like tendrils on a vine, you couldn’t break free. As quick and flexible as it was, it only felt like concrete wrapping all around you. It pinned your arms to your sides and wrapped around your legs, chest, and throat.

With a clenching of Apocalypse’s fist, it all drew tighter. And when your energy field finally gave out, the last of your shielding went away with it. As that light faded, the pain of being slowly crushed exploded through you. But you couldn’t scream when you couldn’t even breathe.

Apocalypse would have Xavier. That was all he wanted, then outright ignoring the straining of Magneto in the sky above him, Erik desperately trying to still do anything on his own now.

But as your sight blurred and your senses faded, it was the most surreal thing, you could still recognize Jean’s silhouette as she also moved out into midair.

Yet it wasn’t her, at least not as you knew her. Somehow that thought had still floated through your dying mind, before the world exploded all over again.

Even without being powered up, you could feel that surge. Like a pressure wave of pure, raw force. It seared across everything, hot and burning. But like a warm fire, for those far enough from the center, it only revitalized them. Hank was awakened suddenly, soon enough breaking the pieces that held you and giving you a chance to breathe again before he ran on all fours to also free Scott.

And yet for Apocalypse, someone far too close to that center, and the real target of Jean’s fury, the only option was to burn.

You were on your knees as you still tried to catch your breath, but you all knew opportunity when you saw it. She’d broken through his shield, torn through his armor. But even as his flesh seared away, it was still trying to heal back just as quickly.

Magneto had impaled him to the spot with multiple steel bars as soon as his shield had fallen, but Apocalypse was a coward. As soon as that tide had started to turn, he tried to flee.

Hank called out, “He’s getting away!” As Apocalypse tried to teleport, an energy shield rebuilding to close around him.

Even digging as deep as you possibly could, you only had enough left to make a large orb from one palm. That white light encasing just one of your hands rather than your whole body as you realized you had to make this last shot count.

And just as you thought you were not going to have another opening to get past his shield, lightning began striking down right on top of him. A hole broke in his field with the force, the white haired girl from before surprising you all with a sudden change of allegiance.

You threw your orb at once then, controlling it to come right through the opening she had made. It exploded directly against Apocalypse’s head and neck, further blasting away muscle and bone that no longer had time to heal under all the combined attacks.

But it was still Jean who dealt the killing blow. With one final powerful surge of her energy, screaming, she erased the last of him. His body broke into only ash under her red aura. It spread into the sky all around her, like wings of flame before extinguishing at last.

You were still waiting for some final confirmation that it was really over though, that you’d won. After a few moments of only the sound of the receding wind, and the sand lightly blowing past with it, it was like a collective acceptance at last.

You fell back with a large exhale, exhausted as you laid onto your back in the dirt. In the sky, you could see Magneto and Jean hover back to where Xavier was, no doubt to check on him now. You could only imagine if Magneto would soon be apologizing to his old friend, or not, for his part in all this.

But you didn’t rest in your silence for long. As you heard footsteps, you turned your head enough to see Hank’s clawed feet approaching. But he wasn’t alone. He had Raven on one side and Peter on the other, Peter more so the one he was propping up with that broken leg.

“Raven wants to go see Charles,” Hank said by way of some explanation, awkwardly helping Peter sit back down beside you as the other winced in pain. “I need you two to stay here while we see if there’s any medical supplies intact nearby, and while we try to figure out how on earth we’re going to get home now.”

While Hank spoke, you thought Raven might have still been giving you a kind of odd look. As if she was trying to make sense of something. You could assume what, after the abrupt display between you and Peter before. But you were just too tired to feel anything other than relief right now that everyone was still here at all.

“Okay,” You said, maybe just to check that you could talk, as much as your throat still hurt from being squeezed earlier. But the two older mutants were then gone just as quickly. Hank had picked up Raven, jumping over to the exposed second floor of the building where the Professor and the others were.

Peter was unnaturally quiet afterward. At least for a while before he finally looked down at you. “So holy shit, right?”

You glanced up. That phrase really could reference about anything that had happened today. You smirked tiredly. “Could you be a little more specific please?”

“I mean, your friend just vaporized that dude.” Peter answered, waving one hand. He couldn’t stop from being animated even if he tried it seemed, even when injured. “Did you know she could do that? Like damn, we could have been done an hour ago.”

You tried not to laugh. It’d hurt your ribs too much if you did. “No. I’d say she didn’t even know she could do that.”

“Well, I know who not to piss off,” He said, before going quiet for a bit again.

You still hadn’t been around him all that long in actual length of hours. But for all you’d now been through since first meeting at the mansion, it seemed like this morning was lifetimes ago. And you could sense that his mind was churning with something else he actually wanted to say.

You looked up to him again after a while. “You okay?” You asked. Which probably was still a bit ironic for you to question, as even though he had the broken leg, you were also the one laying in the dirt, too tired and hurting to properly sit up.

It still took him some time to respond though. Which told you he actually was trying to weigh his words somewhat before speaking. But when they did finally start to come out, he was still pausing and hesitating. “I’m, um, first of all, sorry about the whole surprise kiss there. I figured you’d just slap the crap out of me or something. But I thought we were going to die too, and I...I just-”

He was looking at the ground now, like there would be some answer there that would help him verbalize what he was trying to say. “I know I screw up a lot and let things go that I shouldn’t let go I guess. I already flaked out with the whole reason I came up to your house this morning, the whole Magneto thing. And I didn’t want to do that twice, not telling someone the truth again all in one day just because I was being chicken shit. You’re just really cool, and you know...I just wanted you to know that.” He looked back at you at last, as if trying to judge if any of this was making sense at all.

It did and it didn’t of course. You didn’t understand at all what he meant about why he came up to the house in the first place, or anything about Magneto. But you didn’t want to question on that when he was already making himself vulnerable with the main point you thought he was trying to make to you at least.

“Peter, I kissed you back remember? I mean yes, there was a lot of stress involved. But it doesn’t make it a mistake.” Now you were the one perhaps putting too much optimism in your thoughts here, and taking a risk. “Maybe it just made it happen a lot sooner than it naturally would have. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t want that, you know, eventually.”

Again, you’d only known each other for a day in real terms. Of course it was too much. But everybody had to start somewhere, right? You had no idea what a serious relationship could be like though, you’d never had one. Just awkward first dates that never became second dates because it was always just weird. You didn’t feel anything that way for those people and it was always evident so quickly.

And yet here came this guy, dropped into your life like a bomb in a time of utter chaos and danger, and you thought you were now finally understanding why your friends seemed to go so crazy when they told you about their “crushes” at school. It was just something that clicked. You couldn’t put rational thought to emotions like this.

“So you wanted to kiss me?” Peter finally asked in a way that was somewhat silly to you, because of course you wouldn’t have done anything like that if you didn’t actually want to. And yet you couldn’t make any dry reply to that effect when you saw the honest expression on his face as he’d asked.

Was it really so hard for him to believe that he would be wanted? You were surprised, genuinely. Of course he was quirky and odd, well maybe a great deal odd. But for all the flashy appearance and smugness you knew he could radiate, did he not actually see his own worth?

You touched his hand lightly, as you sat up at last. It hurt, but he needed to see your eyes to believe you now. You knew this was important. “You’ve had me flustered since you first introduced yourself this morning. I’m not used to that, at all, so it’s really new. I don’t really know how it’s all supposed to work, or what I’m supposed to do next. But I can at least speak to how I feel. I want to be around you more, I want to be close.”

The physical and the emotional went hand in hand really. But, you’d both have to figure out your own comfort level on that. You continued, trying to put that into words. He didn’t owe anything to you. “You need to remember it depends what you want too though. I can like you with or without kissing again. If you just want a friend, that’s okay too.”

He chuckled, seeming kind of taken aback. “Hell...” He looked away a moment, running his hand through his hair. It was obviously a nervous gesture, as it only made it look messier. “I’d really be a pathetic boyfriend you know. Like, epically bad.”

“You think so?” You asked, trying not to press too hard, but also not wanting him to keep seeming like he didn’t deserve any of this kind of attention.

“I’ll annoy you eventually, you’ll regret it.” He kept on, a little bit quieter then.

“How do you know I’m not annoying?” You countered. Of course you hoped you weren’t, you seemed to get along well with the other students, and they ran the gamut of so many kinds of personalities. But really, how was it fair for him to assume any fault would only be his?

“Pfft.” He looked back to you. “You literally glow. It’s not even metaphorical. You’re like perfect, and-“

Did Apocalypse ding him in the head too? You were having none of that. “I’m nothing of the sort. And neither are you.” But you smiled before he could take that negatively. “And I’m totally good with that.”

He quieted again, just watching you for an awkward while, before finally responding. “I guess we can try. I mean as long as you’re admitting now that your taste in guys is really this bad and you won’t get mad at me later for saying I told you so.”

It didn’t seem proper to laugh, but he made you want to. “I’ll overlook you insulting the both of us. But yes, if you want to try, then so do I.”

“Okay.” He answered. Then seemed to realize the depth of this a little more. “Shit...didn’t expect to get mutant-napped by the government, fight a god, break my leg, and become a boyfriend all in the same day.”

“And rescue a whole mutant school,” You added.

He shrugged purposefully for effect. “That’s what heroes do, babe.”

The pivot from so self conscious that he could barely accept your attraction to him, to now wanting to brag again really was something to behold. You started to quip something back, but stopped when you saw his face go serious. He was now looking at something abruptly in the distance, so you turned your head to follow his gaze.

It was Magneto.

You straightened up as well, now fully sitting up before Erik landed in front of you both.

He was direct, speaking immediately. “It will still be some time before Charles’ little CIA friend can get her cohorts to arrange your transport out of here.”

You didn’t know if the distaste in his tone was more about Moira being a government agent, or just dislike to her presence here entirely, but he only continued. “And given that Hank has no idea how to field dress wounds without access to his full laboratory, I get that responsibility.”

Peter shifted, abruptly realizing the meaning then. “I’m fine,” He lied.

Of course he absolutely wasn’t fine. But clearly distrusting about whatever Magneto now had planned and the inevitable pain it could mean for him. Peter hadn’t moved his leg at all in the entire time you’d been sitting here together.

Erik only answered him sharply, “You need a splint before you do even more damage to yourself.”

As he then raised his hands, metal rebar started to drag itself out from the broken buildings all around you, leaving no question that this was no longer a choice for Peter.

It was hard not to think that just a short time ago, Magneto had been using that same kind of power to impale Apocalypse over and over again. And yet now he showed how controlled he could be, breaking the thin rebar into lengths that could run all the way from Peter’s thigh to just above his ankle, and even bending them slightly to match the natural curvature of the knee.

“Lift his leg.” Erik spoke.

You’d been so distracted with watching him work the metal, that it took you a moment to realize the command was for you. You looked briefly to him, then to Peter. You and Peter both shared the same nervous expression.

If you just used your hands, you felt like you would only hurt him, not being able to support his whole leg in a way that wouldn’t put more pressure on the break. But you also didn’t know if you’d rested long enough sitting here to use your powers at all either.

Someone as intimidating as Magneto standing over you both impatiently certainly didn’t help.

But if it meant less discomfort for Peter, you’d at least try. You lifted both your hands, facing your palms towards Peter’s leg while focusing as best you could. Normally what would have been fairly simple now took a good deal of effort in your still drained state. But a faint white glow did start to move across his leg, eventually covering it from his hip all the way to the end of his foot.

Once enveloped, you raised just your fingertips, lifting his entire leg gently, just high enough that Magneto could place the metal bracing around it.

You heard Peter make a small sound of pain as Erik had circled other metal strips around the longer ones that ran parallel with his leg, snugging it all into place. But beyond that, the unconventional first aid seemed to be successful. His leg was effectively now immobilized as you let it back down softly, the light fading away as you let go.

“I look like a Mad Max reject,” Peter commented absently, breaking the silence after a moment as he poked at the new metal contraption.

“You’ll be running and finding trouble again soon enough I’m sure. We still heal faster than the lesser species.” Magneto responded, but not all that surprising to you really that he would still find ways to throw jabs at non mutants even in an unrelated conversation.

What did surprise you was that when Erik had started to turn to no doubt leave again now that his task was done, it was Peter that stopped him.

“Hey, wait a second.”

You didn’t think you were imagining a new anxious sound in Peter’s voice either, and it bloomed all new nerves in you as well. What was it between the two of them? There had been confusing hints of something ever since you’d gotten to Egypt, but Peter had never elaborated to you. Not that he’d really had much chance either though.

But just because of who Magneto was, it was easy to imagine things taking a dangerous turn if the wrong thing was said or done, but you had no idea how to help when you didn’t even know what had Peter so focused on him.

You felt him touch your hand, like a physical desire for support, as he asked Erik in the most serious voice you’d ever heard from him. “Do you remember a woman named Magda Eisenhardt?”

Magneto went rigid, and you froze as well. Very suddenly you were wondering if the others could still see you from here. If they were paying you any mind at all right now. But the only person here fast enough to actually get away from Erik, was here beside you with one wing clipped essentially. There’d be no escape.

“How do you know that name?” He’d turned fully back to face you both, eyes locked on Peter.

By the way Peter had seemed to pause his breathing, he wasn’t immune to the sense of threat either, but he still answered. “Well she goes by Maximoff now. She’s my mother.”

You felt like a helpless bystander watching some kind of disaster unfolding in slow motion. The frightening look in Magneto’s eyes versus the way Peter was now almost squeezing your hand painfully. The mental gymnastics your mind was now going through were chaotic. Did Magneto do something to Peter’s mother? Were they enemies? Was this some vengeance quest?

But if any of that were true, why on earth would Peter confront him now? With both of you already injured with not a chance to survive or defend against someone of Magneto’s power?

Whatever frightful things were burning through Erik’s mind as well still silenced him long enough for Peter to speak again though. And it all came out then.

“I was too afraid to tell you earlier, but I guess I’m just ripping the damn band aid off everything now. She told me about you. How she left because she was afraid of you too. But she didn’t tell you about being pregnant. She went to the states, changed her last name and had me. Me and my sister Wanda. Twins. But I didn’t know any of that about you when I busted you out of the Pentagon those years back. I didn’t know who you really were. That you were the guy I thought had just run off, or maybe you were dead. I didn’t know my father was in a damned plastic cell less than ten fucking miles away all those years when we had nothing!”

A chill went through you. The anger in Peter’s voice towards the end only added to the shock as you were forced to process everything at once. This was why. God. Just...shit.

You were all silent after that. For an unbearable amount of time there was silence.

When Erik finally did speak, you heard the anger in him too, but it was different. There was a raw pain in that, something so extremely deep coming out of him now. His fist was clenching. “She was right, boy. If it’s all true, then Magda was goddamn right to do everything in her power to hide you from me and to try to put an ocean between us back then.”

With a little horror, you could see the smallest fragments of metallic debris starting to quiver along the ground. His emotion carrying over into the environment now.

“I did remarry after I escaped Washington and went back to Europe. We even had a little girl. Anya.” There was the slightest sheen of wetness in his eyes, even though sheer anger was the only look still coming from them. “They killed them. My wife. My daughter. The humans killed them because of who I was!”

He gritted his teeth, and you could plainly see a couple tears escape his eyes then before disappearing back behind the sides of his helmet.

“They would have done the same to you and your sister eventually. To Magda too. She knew she’d be caught in the crossfire even when I didn’t. She knew what I really was.”

“It doesn’t make it right!” Peter’s voice surprised you as it broke, uneven and just as emotional as he yelled back at Erik. But he looked down again afterward, his hand trembling against yours. “I’m sorry what they did, that was our little sister too then. But you can’t just lie to someone their whole life. My mom shouldn’t have waited so long to tell me! I could have helped you...maybe it could have been different. Maybe we-”

“It would have been the same result.” Erik said coldly. “Because I would have been the same.”

With that he flew off abruptly, completely out of sight before Peter cursed under his breath, looking defeated. “Goddamnit. He really is an asshole...”

You opened your mouth to respond, maybe to try and comfort him, but then hesitated. There was so much to digest on both sides here. “I think he might just need time to cool off...” You finally said, as delicately as you could.

“Correct.” The Professor’s voice popped into both your heads then, leading you both to glance towards the broken building where the others had been, to now see they were all standing on the edge looking towards you.

“Apologies for eavesdropping,” Xavier continued. “But you were getting quite loud, both verbally and mentally, and I wanted to make sure you were safe as I had instructed the others not to interfere.”

Peter sighed, maybe a bit embarrassed at the audience, but also still clearly unused to having anyone in his head as he replied aloud. “That’s so damn weird. Guess you’re good now then?”

“Getting there, thanks to all of you.” Xavier answered with a slight amount of humor, “But helmet or no helmet, I don’t need to read Erik to tell you that he’ll be back. His anger is only towards himself, not to you. You did the right thing by letting him know the truth. He’ll come around.”

There was another odd feeling of amusement from the Professor after a moment though. “In fact, knowing how possessive Erik can be, I dare say you may get more than you bargained for, Peter, in parental attention. Good luck to you too, (Y/N). Though I’d think he’ll approve of you once he realizes how much you genuinely care about his son.”

You stared, knowing Xavier couldn’t see your ‘are you for real/horrified’ expression from this distance but that he’d definitely feel it.

You saw Raven make an exaggerated gesture of a thumbs up from way over there and Peter laughed tiredly. “We’re totally screwed aren’t we?” You sighed and he just leaned into you, teasing. “See? Too early to say it yet? Nope, it’s not. Told ya so. Told ya so. Terrible choice of a boyfriend, babe!”

You put your head on your knees as he rubbed one of your shoulders. You mumbled numbly. “I just want to sleep for sixteen hours.”

—————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Secret Feelings

MAIN MASTERLIST

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3,050ish

Summary: You and Steve are friends with benefits, both with secret feelings for each other. You finally decide to tell Steve you love him, but it goes wrong.

Warning: mentions of sex

“That was…” you panted.

“Needed…” Steve panted.

You two were currently laying side by side in Steve’s bed, panting after finishing up another round of sex. It wasn’t uncommon to find you two in bed together after a tough mission. Or any mission for that matter.

It all started after a mission that had a close call about seven months ago. You had almost gotten taken out, but Steve quickly swooped in and saved you. When you arrived back at the compound, Steve was furious. You both were in your room, shouting at each other. He was angry at you for almost dying and you are angry at him for being angry at you. Before either of you were able to actually think about what was happening, his mouth was on yours and you were tearing each other’s suits off.

You too were pretty close friends before, but that first night started changing things. For the both of you. You both started falling in love with the other, but were both too scared to say anything. Each of the team members could see the love you two had for one another. From the way you two started cuddling during movie nights, to the way you two patched each other up after missions. It was obvious to them and kind of funny how obvious the two of you were.

“You know I can read minds and emotions, right?” Wanda said to you after she caught you staring at Steve laughing with Bucky one day.

“Huh?” You turned to her, having barely registered what she had said. 

“Your love for Steve,” Wanda clarified. “It’s so loud. And don’t get me started on his love for you. I think the serum did something to project his thoughts and feelings more.”

“He doesn’t love me,” you shook your head. “We’re just close friends.”

Natasha scoffed. “Yeah, close friends that sleep together. All the time.”

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Wanda asked.

“Because I don’t want to ruin what we have,” you replied.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Nat started, “but what you two have is basically a relationship. One of you just needs to step it up and say something to make it official.”

You sighed, looking back at Steve. Maybe your friends were right. Maybe you should just gather up the courage and talk to Steve. You were sitting there, convincing yourself to finally tell Steve, when Agent Sharon Carter walked into the room. It was no secret to anyone that Sharon was after Steve. The woman didn’t try to hide anything when it came to her wanting Steve.

You watched as she made a beeline for Steve. Immediately touching his arm and forcing out a laugh to join with Steve’s and Bucky’s. Your jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other.

“Your jealousy is rolling off you in waves, Y/N,” Wanda warned. 

“That’s it,” you said. “I’m telling him tonight.”

~~~

You had spent the day in your room, trying to gain all the courage you could before admitting your feelings to Steve. Finally feeling ready, you took a deep breath before heading to Steve’s room. As you rounded the corner, you froze at the sight before you.

Steve was pushed up against the wall, his lips on Sharon’s. Sharon’s arms were wrapped around Steve’s neck and his hands were on her hips. You rushed back around the corner, leaning up against the wall. Your hand went up to cover your mouth, trying to stop the sobs that wanted to erupt from your throat. Tears cascading down your cheeks as you ran to your room. You didn’t even make it to the bed before collapsing into a puddle of sobs on the floor.

You stayed there until the early hours of the morning. When you finally felt like you didn’t have enough liquid in you to cry anymore, you pushed yourself of the ground. You were shaky as you made your way to the common room and the kitchen. All you wanted was a tub of ice cream and to go back to your room. You were grabbing everything you needed, when you heard happy humming coming closer. You looked up to see Sharon, humming, as she entered the kitchen. You couldn’t help but stare when you noticed at all she was wearing was a shirt. Steve’s shirt. When she noticed you, her face filled with fake concern.

“Oh my,” she gasped, coming closer. “Y/N, you look awful. Have you been crying?”

“It’s been a hard night,” you mumbled, getting back to what you were doing.

“I’m sorry… well, my night’s been great! I’ve been with Steve all night.” The metal spoon that you had just grabbed, clattering onto the counter top. “I do want to thank you though, for allowing Steve to have all that practice on you. It was truly wonderful.” Your dry eyes began filling with tears as your shaking got worse. “It’s finally nice to know he feels the same.”

And that was the last straw. You rushed out of the room, not caring about the mess you were leaving. You needed to get away from that woman. Away from the one Steve wanted. When you reached your room, you decided that you needed a break. You began throwing things in a duffle as you gave FRIDAY orders to tell Fury that you were going on a much needed vacation. You ordered the AI to tell Fury that it was a no contact vacay and that both Fury and FRIDAY needed to stop tracking you as soon as you left the building. 

You snapped your duffle shut before reaching for your phone. Your hand hovered over it for a moment as you thought about whether or not to take it with you. If you did, Tony would be able to track you down as soon as the team noticed you were gone. If you didn’t, well, you were only going to be gone a few weeks at most. Right? You pulled your hand away before it could grab the phone. Pulling the duffle onto your shoulder before heading out of your room, and out of the compound.

~~~

Steve’s brain stopped for a moment as Sharon forced her lips onto his. His hands found a way to her hips. Not because it was natural, but because he wanted her off of him. After he finally got his brain functioning, he pushed her off of him.

“Oh, come on, Steve,” Sharon said, seductively, trying to get back back to what she was doing. “You know you enjoyed it.”

“Stop, Sharon,” Steve pushed her away again. “You know I don’t feel that way about you. I’m in love with Y/N.”

“But are you? It seems that you’re just using her to let off some steam.”

“I would never just use her. Yes, she deserves better than me being silent about my feelings. But I would never use her. If she said for me to stop and leave her alone, than I would. Because I love her.”

“But does she love you?”

“I hope. But whether she does or not, I will not be coming to you for anything, Sharon. I’m sorry, but we’re just friends.”

Then Steve entered his room, trying to gain the courage to finally confess his feelings to you in the morning.

~~~

Steve was alway an early bird. But today, he was extra early. He was finally going to tell you that he loved you. He was up making your favorite breakfast, planning on delivering it to your room for you. After carefully arranging the breakfast on a tray, he carried it to your room. 

“FRIDAY, can you open Y/N’s door for me?” Steve asked the AI.

The door swung open and Steve entered. He looked around the room, immediately noticing that something was wrong. The bed had clearly not been slept in and various  drawers were open from your dressers, clothes falling out of them. 

“Y/N?” He called, venturing in further. There was no answer and it was clear, you were not in here. “FRIDAY? Can you give me Y/N’s location?”

“Y/N’s location has been turned off,” FRIDAY replied.

“What?! Why? Who gave that order?”

“Y/N has requested some time off. She ordered me to stop tracking her after she left the building. Fury approved it as well.”

“Did she say why?”

“No. But she had spent most of the night crying.”

Steve set the tray down on your dresser, rushing to pull his phone out of his pocket. He immediately dialed your number. His heart dropped when he heard the buzzing of a phone on her bed. Slowly, Steve walked over to see your phone on your bed, ringing. A picture of the two of you was shining up at Steve with his name on the screen and a heart next to it. It was all taunting him. He grabbed the phone and rushed into the common room, where the rest of the team was eating breakfast.

“Y/N’s gone!” He yelled. Everyone’s head snapped for look at the captain. “She’s gone.”

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Natasha asked.

“Like, she’s not in the compound, I have her phone, and FRIDAY stopped tracking her.”

“Did the compound get broken into last night?” Bucky asked, turning to look at Tony.

“No,” the billionaire shook his head. “FRIDAY would have alerted all of us.”

“FRIDAY told me she requested time off,” Steve said. “But why would she do that without telling any of us?”

“Did anyone do anything to upset her?” Vision asked. Everyone looked at Tony.

“Hey! Woah!” Tony held his hands up. “I haven’t seen her in a few days. I’ve been held up in the lab. You should all be looking at lover boy over there.” Everyone turned to look at Steve.

“What did you do, punk?” Bucky wondered.

“Me?!” Steve pointed to himself. “I— I— nothing I can currently think of.” Just then, Sharon waltzed into the room. The rest of the team all had the same thought run through their heads. “You.” Steve pointed at Sharon. “What did you do to Y/N?”

“Well, good morning to you too, Steve,” Sharon replied, preparing herself some breakfast. “Now, what are you excusing me of?”

“You know exactly what,” Wanda responded, having entered Sharon’s mind. Wanda stood across the kitchen island, challenging the agent. “You tricked her into thinking that you and Steve slept together. And that he was only using her.”

“What?!” Steve exclaimed. “Why would you do that?”

“Because, Steve,” Sharon began, “I want you all for myself. And her and her feelings were in the way.”

“F-feelings?”

“Oh, please, Steve. You can’t seriously tell me that you couldn’t see that she was in love with you?”

“She was… in love… with me…”

“She was trying to gain the courage to tell you,” Nat explained. “Wanda and I were pretty sure she was going to last night.”

“Oh, and she was,” Sharon teased. “But I kissed Steve just in time.”

“Are you telling us, she saw you kissing Steve?” Bucky questioned. “And you knew she would?”

“Planned it all perfectly,” Sharon shrugged.

“Out,” Tony growled. “Get out of my compound. Now!”

~~~

Fury stopped by later that day, immediately getting bombarded by questions from the team.

“I do not know where Y/N went,” Fury responded. “She did not give me those details. She just requested the time off and told me to stop tracking her.”

“And you listened?” Steve asked.

“She’s the one that gives me the least amount of grief of all of you. I thought that she deserved it. She’ll be back, in two weeks.”

“Two weeks?!”

“Yes, she requested an extension this morning. I would suggest that all of you allow her this time. Y/N will be back, just give her space.”

~~~

But two weeks passed, that no one had seen or heard from you. Not even Fury. And that was stressing everyone out, especially Steve. They all were searching for you. But you were good, and weren’t making it easy on them. You didn’t want to be found, especially after the pregnancy test.

You were pregnant with Steve’s child. You had thrown around going back because of it. But you eventually decided that there was no way you were going to allow Sharon to co-parent your child. So you stayed hidden, preparing for your baby without anyone.

No one was there for you when your son was born, which you cried a lot about. Especially when you son was put in your arms. It looked too much like Steve for his own good. You named him James Steven, and you loved him more than anything in the world. He was ten months old with Tony showed up at your doorstep. You quickly tried to slam the door in Tony’s face, but he stopped it with his foot.

“Don’t even think about it,” Tony said, coming into the house. “You don’t get to push me away. We’re family.”

“Were,” you corrected, holding James close.

“That’s your choice, not any of ours.”

“How did you find me?”

“You made the mistake of showing your face to a grocery store security camera. Don’t worry though, I came alone and no one knows I’ve found you yet. I wanted to talk to you alone first.”

“Have a seat,” you gestured to the couch. “I’m just going to put the baby down for a nap.”

Tony nodded, moving to sit on the couch. He looked around, taking in the little house you’d been living in since you left the compound. It was cute. There were pictures hung up all around of you and your son. But nothing from before that. You quietly came back in and sat on the other end of the couch.

“Cute son,” Tony commented.

“Thanks,” you replied nervously.

“He Steve’s?”

You sighed, looking down at your fidgety hands in your lap. “Yes. His name is James Steven.”

“Have you been raising him alone?” You nodded. “You know you didn’t have to.”

“I know… I just couldn’t stand going back knowing that Steve had feelings for Sharon.”

Tony scoffed. “That bitch tricked you, Y/N. She did all that to make sure you’d leave and she could have him. But Capsicle is too in love with you to move on.”

“What?” You quietly gasped.

“He’s still in love with you. When he’s not stupidly risking his life on missions, he’s still searching for you. He misses you, we all do.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and turned to face away from Tony. You still loved Steve too, after all this time. But you never imagined that he would still be searching for you.

“Come home,” Tony begged. “Bring James and come home.”

“I don’t know, Tony…” You shook your head. “Steve can’t possibly still love me after the way I left. He—“

“But I do,” another voice said. Your head snapped up to see Steve standing in the entry way. “I still love you, Y/N.”

You studied him. He had grown a beard and the bags under his eyes were more prominent, but he was still the same Steve.

“I’m going to go watch my new nephew sleep,” Tony hurried out of the room as Steve walked around the couch.

“I should have told you sooner,” Steve continued. “And there were so many times I wanted to, I was just scared. I realize now that was foolish of me.” Steve sat on the couch, close enough so your knees were touching. “You never had to run away.”

“I just… I thought—,” you stammered.

“I know what you thought. And Sharon was kicked out of the Initiative the next day.” He reached over and carefully took your hands in his. “I never felt anything for her, Y/N. My heart has always belonged to you.”

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” you quietly cried. “I over reacted. I just couldn’t be near you two if you were going to be with her. And then once I realized I was pregnant…. I couldn’t stand the thought of co-parenting with her.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I never have held anything against you. Yes, I do wish that I got to help you through the pregnancy and been there when my son was born, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. And our son.”

“Oh, Steve.” You wrapped your arms around him and pulled yourself into him. “I love you.”

He quickly held you close. “I love you too.”

Crying came from down the hall before Tony’s shouts, “I promise I didn’t do anything! I just wanted to hold him!”

You and Steve both chuckled. “Do you… um… do you want to meet him?” You asked Steve.

“Yes,” he nodded. 

You grabbed Steve’s hand and led him to your son’s bedroom, where Tony was trying to figure out how to calm him.

“It’s okay, Tony,” you said. “I’ve got him.” You took James from his arms. “It’s okay, sweetie. Mommy’s here.”

“I’ll just go out and let the team know they can come in now,” Tony said.

“Team? I thought you said you were alone?”

“Well I kind of lied about that. You’ll thank me later.” 

Tony pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaving. James was cooing in your arms, reaching up for you. You lightly bounced him as you walked towards Steve.

“Do you want to met your dad, James?” You asked the baby.

“James?” Steve repeated.

“James Steven Rogers,” you clarified. “Hold out your arms.” Steve did as he was told. “Be careful with his head,” you directed as you slipped James from your arms to Steve’s. “There you go.”

A smile grew on your face as you watched Steve hold his son for the first time. Steve smiled as he quietly talked to his son. He looked over at you, waving you over. You walked over allowing Steve’s arm to wrap around you and pull you into his side. He leaned down and kissed you, trying to pour all his love into it while still minding the child in his arm.

“I love you,” he whispered. “And I’m never letting you go again.”

[daisy-day-dreams]

A/N: Here’s the next part for Then & Now! I hope you enjoy 💖 thank you for reading!

Drop Off

Warnings: Mostly just fluff

Word Count: 1037

Pairings: Angel Reyes x Iris, Miguel Galindo x Iris

Then

Angel looked out the window of the small silver Toyota Camry watching the lights pass by as they made their way back home. Iris had invited him to tag along with her sister Nora and their friend Heather to a showing of The Resident at the theater a town over.

It wasn't long on the start home that Iris had fallen asleep resting her head against Angel’s shoulder. It was kind of cramped for him in the back seat but he didn't mind, not as long as he was next to her.

He had fallen for her fast and hard, it was hard not to with a girl like her. He just hoped that maybe she was falling for him too, but he was getting ahead of himself.

The car slowed to a stop in front of Angel’s place waking Iris from her slumber. She picked her head up as she slowly took in her surroundings. “Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you.”

“Don't worry about it."

Angel's arm was wrapped around her and she had to admit it felt nice. She tucked a stray strand of her dark curly hair behind her ear, sitting up more all while trying to look anywhere but at him to hide the smile and blush she felt creeping onto her cheeks that she couldn't help from happening.

“I didn't snore did I?” She asked, finally getting the courage to look at him. She could tell by the smirk on his face that a smart-ass response was coming.

“Only sounded like a freight train,” he teased her.

She playfully smacked his arm muttering, “Shut up.”

"Hey if you two haven't noticed we're here." Nora pointed out turning to face the two in the backseat with a knowing smirk.

Angel took that as his exit although he would have gladly spent the rest of time with her in the cramped back seat of their car. “I guess I better get going. Thanks for inviting me. I had a really great time.”

“I'm really glad you could come.”

Angel nodded, “Me too. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, querida.” Angel shut the door behind him then slowly made his way up the path to his place.

Nora and Heather exchanged a look from the front seat before turning in their seats and looking back at Iris who's eyes were lingering where Angel had disappeared behind his front door.

After sensing their presence she looked back at the two who could barely contain themselves, “What?”

“Goodnight, querida.” They teased before erupting into a fit of giggles.

Iris balled her sweater up that was next to her and tossed it at the two of them. “Just shut up and drive.”

The girl’s laughter continued as they pulled out and back onto the road continuing with their teasing of her and lover boy as they were calling Angel. Iris didn't mind much and quickly tuned them out as she stared out the window. Those two words replayed themselves over and over in her head and would continue to do so until she would eventually drift off to sleep again that night.

Now

The buildings passed one by one as the dark Mercedes drove down the streets of Los Angeles. The street lights were the only source of light that could be seen in this neighborhood late at night. Iris looked out past the tinted window. She caught a glimpse of Miguel’s reflection watching her and smiled.

“I had a great time.” She said, turning to look at him. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming along with me.”

“Lucky me you just happened to have an extra ticket for the show I had been dying to see.” She sent him a knowing look with a smirk.

Miguel shrugged trying to keep up the facade even though he knew she saw right through him. “Lucky you.”

Miguel had taken the chance on asking her out while he was in town for business again. He made sure this time to plan to be there longer after having grown a fondness for the pretty little bartender he'd make a point of seeing each time he would be in the city. He had acquired two tickets for the best seats in the house after overhearing Iris telling her coworker how much she'd love to go see the Phantom of the Opera but unfortunately, it sold out before she could secure any tickets herself. Lucky for him Miguel knew a guy and had a few strings he could pull.

"We're here," Javier, Miguel’s driver, said as they pulled to a stop in front of Iris' apartment complex.

Iris looked out the window once more. Sure enough, they were there yet she didn't want to leave. She was still coming down from the incredible high of the night and didn't want that feeling to end just yet. She knew as soon as she closed that door behind her the loneliness she has been fighting since her split from Angel would come creeping back in as it so often would.

In the time she has been caught up in her thoughts Miguel had the door opened for her, his hand extended out to her to help her out of the car.

She took his hand then hooked onto his arm and began walking with him to the front door. Once there she punched in the key code listening for the mechanical sounds of the door unlocking before she pulled it open. She paused there and mustered up the courage to just ask what she had been wanting to.

This wasn't what she'd normally do but Miguel felt different. He was everything she thought she needed right now. A nice handsome distraction. He made her feel good and why should she fight that she thought. Why should she stay wallowing in heartbreak? It was time she moved on, if only with a little fling for now. “Would you maybe like to come up for a drink?”

Miguel looked at Javier in the car then back to Iris and smiled, “I would love to.”

“Follow me,” She grabbed his hand, leading the rest of the way to her apartment.

A/N: If you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list please just let me know!

Tagging: @carlaangel86 @beardsanddetectives

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Asorted ADA x Reader | The "happy" friend

BSD misc. Reader insert

Warnings- mentions of suicidal thoughts. Mentions of Verbal and mild physical abuse.

The happy co-worker, happy friend, happy ex, happy girlfriend. No matter what you pushed it on to yourself. So many of your peers had it worse. Look at Dazai, he manages to smile and joke despite his pain. You thought you could do it too. So, that’s what you did. Since you joined the agency. You never let them see you break down. They never got to see you cry. They never got to see you under anything but happy. Even if you were annoyed, you held onto your smile. There were so many orphans among your mighty crew of detectives. The ones you were the closest to, you confirmed them to be orphans from a young age. Dazai, parentless at 14. He may have been an orphan for even longer than that. You just know he didn’t have any at 14. Then there was Atsushi, who had lived his whole childhood abused in an orphanage. Kyoka, she lost her parents to her ability. The others you were not too sure about, but the sneaking suspicion this organization was full of gifted orphans, was high.

Then there was you. A girl, no older than Dazai. Not the best looking, at least that’s what you told yourself. The others had no idea about your insecurities regarding your body. Maybe you were too tall, too short, too thin, too fat. Some days were better than others. Some days the situation flipped. There was always something you could nit-pick about yourself. Your mind wandered constantly back to the words of your parents. “Not skinny enough, too skinny. Not fit enough, but don’t be too fit. Men don’t like to be threatened.” you had parents. Maybe they weren't the best but you had parents. They were a bit abusive with words but never had they placed a finger on you. Well, there were a few times but it was normal right? For a parent to lose their cool and lash out once or twice, maybe even a handful of times over the years. They judged you for your choice of occupation and the people you hung around. They called you out on outfits and the way you acted. That’s why you were here now. Far from them, but their words still haunted you. In truth, you feared them but wanted their approval.

Today, you stood with your coworkers finishing up the latest job. You hummed in your outfit. It covered your arms, which you already bandaged but wanted to keep that a secret. The things you did to keep this false joy were extreme. The things you took in impacted your state. Listening to Atsushi, holding Kyoka when she broke down. Hell, you were even there to scold Dazai and occasionally listen to his drunk words. The tales of how much he had suffered broke you. Even Kunikida learned to confide in you. He would tell you about his stress, and the pain he felt about past mistakes that resulted in his ideals being missed or broken. There was nobody in the agency who didn’t trust you with their problems. To them, you had none. They were okay with talking to you. They felt better after talking to you. That’s how it worked.

Biting the inside of your cheek, your feet moved to Kunikida. You knew he’d want to talk about this one. He hated seeing people killed before his eyes. He’d already nearly beaten Dazai for letting the boy die. Atsushi was off in the corner, fidgeting around with the tight atmosphere. You had arrived a little too late to prevent the death of the kidnapped child. Things like this happened, mistakes were bound to happen but… they had larger effects on some than they did on others. Dazai was facing the wall, his hands in fists. His head against the wall. You could tell he was blaming himself. Atsushi just felt awkward being here. “Kunikida?” you whispered trying to keep a joyful yet soft tone to your voice. Your hand reached out to tap his shoulder only for him to slap it away with a heavy glare.

“How can you smile like that? Somebody died in front of us and all you do is smile! You're always smiling no matter what happens! Do you even understand what’s going on right now? We failed (Y/n). Do you need somebody to explain to you what you should be doing right now?” his voice kept raising pitch by pitch. It sent flashes along your eyes. The way your father's voice would start soft and gradually get louder by the second, until he slammed a fist against the wall and screamed at you. Those yells always ended in the verbal assault. The comments on your form, the comments on your social life, and the useless degrees and jobs you had.

The wince you suppressed went unnoticed. The shaking of your hands is easily hidden behind you. Hands clasped together as your eyes trailed Kunikida. His body stood towering over you. Heavily glaring as he turned away. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” you tilted your head to play this off with a smile.

It was no help to your situation. He pushed past you, heading for the building exit he froze in the doorway. “We have to go tell a parent we failed to save a child's life. Do you understand how hard that is for a parent? How could I be alright? How can any of us be alright?” he was one step from overfilling your glass. The cracks forming were starting to show. Your eyes unable to meet his eyes. “You can be heartless and an idiot at times. Smiling in the presence of death.” there it was, the same words you had gotten at your grandmother's funeral. You’d tried to stay strong for your mother. You only knew how to smile. You knew no other way of staying strong. Hearing it from a friend sent you into overdrive.

“Shut up.” you hissed through clenched teeth.

This time Atsushi seemed to join in. shocked by your sudden negativity. He had never seen you like this. None of them had ever seen you drop a smile. “Are you mad?” Atsushi asked before you shook it off and smiled.

“Huh? Of course not! I'm just as normal as ever! I don’t know what you mean? Did I seem mad? Sorry, guess I just let that slip. I meant to say you shouldn’t assume I'm heartless, just cause I'm still… happy! I feel the pain you guys feel over this! I just think we should move over this!” giving a closed smile, Kunikida's raised voice washed over the room again.

“Move past?! We could have saved them if we had been a bit faster in getting here! The kid wasn’t supposed to die! Stop smiling and grasp the situation! Stop being insensitive to your acting just like Dazai does sometimes!” Were you that bad? Was it really that bad to just want to stay happy? “You have everything perfect, you can’t even grasp the situation!” you couldn’t do this anymore. His words were starting to turn from accusations to frustration. He was taking his pain out on you. Instead of doing it in the kind form he normally used, he was using anger to express how hurt he was right now.

Unable to take any more of the words he spat, you dropped it all. His words were getting on the triggering side. The words he spat slowly started to inch closer and closer to your parents' words. Words that made you have to act like this. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered trying to keep your tears locked inside. It was useless though. The container shattered as his words brushed by your ears. Faded and fuzzy, the world drifted away. You were pulled back into the world by a brunette. His slender hands shaking your shoulders. You shoved him away glaring.

“Woah, she’s pissed,” Atsushi whispered before you shook your head looking at the ceiling, you smiled.

“No Atsushi, I'm sad, for lack of a better word. I want to walk up the stairs of a very tall building and dive into nothingness. I want to lay down with a bottle of whiskey and drink myself into sweet relief. I want to look in the mirror and like the way I look. I want to walk to my parents with the courage to tell them I'm perfect no matter what I look like. I want to tell them that what I do for a living makes me strong. I want to have the strength to shout and tell them I don't need a man to dictate my life. I want to scream at them that the only man I want is a man who isn’t afraid of a fierce, strong, and independent woman.” the words fell from your lips as your tears fell. They fell through your smile. The happy look stuck to your face.

“(y/n)...” Kunikida started before you chuckled, closing his sentence off.

“Aren't I just perfect? I hate my body, I hate my personality. I hate everything about myself. I hate my gift, nobody would like the real me. Nobody knows the real me. Hell, I don't even know the real me. I am nothing without my smile. But… it's okay as long as I can keep smiling! I can just fake it until it's real. I fooled all of you, didn’t I? I really seemed happy! Even I was starting to think I was! But then, I get home, look in the mirror, and all I can see is a useless shell.” your voice stopped before you were wrapped in bandaged arms. Those arms ran over your back to pull at your arms. Concerned hazel brushing skilled tender fingers under the cloth of your sleeves. Those fingers dancing over the white cloth. His hair falling over his now darkened eyes.

“You too…” he whispered just as you yanked away your arms and held them, still keeping a smile.

Of course, he had to lift your spirits just a bit. So, as you looked away unable to meet his gaze, he got to one knee and pulled your hand to him with a smirk. Kunikida facepalmed realizing the words the brunette would spout next. “Dazai, this was a crime scene. Are you seriously going to… I'm going to kill you!” he shouted stomping over to you two.

Dazai’s eyes met yours as he put his playful smile on. “Would you commit a double suicide with me~?” he hummed before being shoved into a wall. “Kunikidaaaaa! Why would you do something so cruel?!” he dramatically put a hand over his chest and his other hand on his forehead. Kunikida clicked his tongue, turning to you. His eyes reflected only guilt, as if your outburst had been all his fault. Even if you had been dying to talk to somebody about the crumbling emotions for months.

“I’ll think about it, Dazai-san!” you playfully responded to his request. For a moment you truly did feel a flutter of joy.

“I swear if you start doing his habits, I will add to your paperwork!” the worst kind of threat. A threat that made both you and Dazai cringe but chuckle.

“We should get going.” you hummed looking up to the ceiling again. “We do have a family to comfort.” Everybody fell serious and nodded.

[spacegirlapollo]

Can’t Be Friends [Dazai x Reader Smut]

Dazai x Reader Smutty One shot 

4,000+ words

Summary: After the death of his beloved friend, Dazai can’t trust love. But then you come bumbling into the picture and he can’t resist falling for you. 

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Dazai had always been fascinated by magnets, that somewhere written deep in the earth's rules, it had been decided that two objects would eternally be bound together if fate allows them to. On the other hand they could push the other away, with the same ease. 

He’s lived his life like a magnet, especially after Oda’s death. He couldn’t help it, although he desperately tried to not care about others it was simply impossible. To fulfill Oda’s dying wishes , he had to care about the people around him. He dared not admit it but he cared. He cared about Kunikida and the others at the agency. He especially cared about Atsushi and thought quite often of Chuuya and Akutagawa and how they were faring. To many souls to think about. So he cared, drawing them all in like magnets, connecting and then turning away pushing back against them when they got to close. 

And at the center of it all was you. You were the crowning jewel in his grand hall of people he cared about, thought and worried and languished about. You reminded him of Oda sometimes. And if he squinted at you maybe he could see Oda’s piercing eyes and not so easy smile.

He was in love with you, that much was sure, and it was a secret, to everyone but him. He was much too smart to not understand his longing for you, the way his heart rate picked up at your closeness and he often found himself longing to hear your voice. 

He didn’t think it would happen to him of all people. Sure he loved Oda, and he wasn’t sure if it was just as friends either, but this was different. 

He’d met you almost immediately after his return to society, now on the side of the “good guys”. You were Fukizawa’s niece and a fixture at the agency. He wondered often how long his stay at the agency would have been had it not been for you. 

In the beginning, Dazai couldn’t help himself, he had absolutely no self control over his magnets and the two of you connected, making quick friends. Wherever you went he would gladly follow. 

Then you’d been attacked, remnants of Dazai’s past life finally rearing consequences upon you. You’d nearly died, even though you were a force to recon with in battle. Fukizawa had been the one to save you in the end. It was salt over Dazai’s wound that you were hurt because of him, and he hadn’t been there to save you. 

It was a hard way to learn a lesson. To be smacked in the face with his universal truth. Everyone he gets close to will die, and it’ll be his fault. 

You weren’t so easy to push away though, ripping you from his life was taking a piece of his soul slowly, and besides he’d promised to be good and the Agency was the best place for that. So he stayed, but your friendship suffered in its wake. You got the message eventually, not bothering to call upon him at midnight anymore and late night trips for food had stopped. 

You’d never let on how it made you feel, and that somehow was worse for Dazai. 

He’d thought you’d replace him, he was mentally prepared to see you and Kunikida laughing At the lunch table. But it was more often that you’d head to lunch alone, or leave work alone. 

With newcomer Atsushi, things changed a little. You’d taken a strong liking to the boy, and he could tell you’d adopted Atsushi, as If you were his mother or aunt or something. Fretting and worrying. Dazai could see that the two of you were co-parenting in a way. 

Then Kyouka came and you and Atsushi’s time spent together became less, and you ate alone once again. 

Dazai observed this all as if he was peering into a fish bowl. Observing the lives of others and indirectly interacting with them but never jumping into the water. He thought himself clever. No one would know how much he loved you. That was until simple, observant Atsushi said something. 

“Dazai-San?” 

“Yeah?” 

They were both sitting in the open floor plan area of the agency, paperwork stacking high between the two of them. On his part Atsushi was trying to conquer the work while Dazai was listening in to your conversation with Kunikida from across the room. You were laughing, and Dazai thought maybe this was it, you were finally replacing him. Good. 

“Uh…” 

Dazai lifted his eyes from you and his partner to rest upon Atsushi, whose voice was uncertain. Dazai had learned from day two, that he should listen to Atsushi, who occasionally sculpted diamonds from words. 

Atsushi tensed with Dazai’s eyes upon him. 

“I was just .... “ he sighed and swallowed his voice coming out low and a whisper. 

“Are you and Y/N dating?” 

Dazai blinked. Not responding, although that might give away more than he would have liked. 

“It’s just that.” Atsushi seemed even more unnerved by Dazai’s non answer, seeing as the brown hair boy loved to talk. 

“You always look up when she enters a room, like you know she’s there. You always stare at each other when you think the other isn’t looking.” Atsushi’s voice faded off. “Stuff- stuff like that.” 

Dazai was half stuck thinking that he’d made a good choice of Atsushi for the Agency, and the other half was thinking about what he’d said. - staring at each other.- 

You looked at him too? 

“S-sorry.” Atsushi said, fearing he’d said too much. He had but that was fine. 

“Am I really that easy to read?” Dazai asked his eyes back on you and Kunikida. Kunikida was blushing as you walked away, his eyes firmly on your lower back side. Dazai felt a feeling stirring in him. But he shoved it down harsly. There was no place for those feelings to show. 

Atsushi shook his head. “No, you're quite hard to read. Dazai-San. Y/N is much easier to read, once I understood why she looks at you like that I realized you were looking at her the same way.”

Diamonds. Dazai thought , Atsushi was capable of making diamonds. 

————-

It was the fall time, the leaves had departed from their family tree or changed colors and the roads of Yokahama were cold and filled with that feeling you only got during the coming of winter. 

Dazai had to work late, once Kunikida found out just how behind he was on his work, Dazai had been essentially chained to his desk. He could tell there were a few people left in the office as some lights were still on. Signing the last page he sighed standing up immediately, Kunikida would be satisfied with his progress and he could pick it up again on Monday, although he was secretary hoping for a case to come and push the paperwork to the side. 

He tucked his hands in his pocket and made his way outside. It was a moment later that he realized that it was raining. The door to the cafe closed behind him and he stood under the awning, thinking with dread about walking through the rain to the subway station.

“No umbrella ?” You asked, and Dazai wasn’t sure how you’d been standing there that whole time and he did not notice. He turned to you his heart thudding rhythmically in his chest. You were as beautiful as ever, and you looked warm, swathed in faux fur jackets. He thought about how wonderful it would feel to lay in your lap and feel your fingers through his hair. 

You turned away from him breaking his guilty illusion and rummaged around in your bag. You pulled out an umbrella, identical to the one you were already holding. You extended it out to him with a smile playing on your lips. 

“You never carry an umbrella, Dazai.” 

His name on your lips was joy, he realized as his lips parted in surprise. You knew him entirely too well and Atsushi was starting to as well. How had he failed so spectacularly in pushing people away. 

He took the umbrella, unable to stop the smile on his face. 

“Why would I ,Y/N when I always have you to have an extra for me?” He teased. He couldn’t help it, months of pushing you away and he was cracking like an egg from a simple gesture. 

Your eyes met and he saw the faintest blush upon your cheeks. He wanted to kiss you. Badly. He blinked and looked away. This wouldn’t do, he needed to get home and fast. 

He would let his mind slip for one night, maybe have a drink or two and stroke himself, your name hanging off his lips like smoke to a cigarette. That’s what he would do. He just needed to get to the station now. 

“Dazai?” 

Your words were soft but firm. The way you sounded when you’d gathered up all tour couraged and readied yourself for a fight. 

He turned back to you, and your eyes shone with determination. 

“Let’s go get dinner together.” 

————-

Dinner, was located in a small corner of Yokohama, that only the locals seemed to know about. You either lived there or crashed there by accident. The restaurant was a hole in the wall, quite literally. It was an interesting place, made of stone and brick, with no real windows or doors, just, holes in the stone. It reminded Dazai of an old century oven, it had a large awning covering to keep the rain from the tables out front. Strings of light were laced around the stone building illuminating it in the darkness of the Yokahama streets. 

It was a place that the both of you were familiar with, having spent many nights here, sipping hot tea and talking. Upon seeing it for the first time in months, Dazai saw just how romantic the place really was and was regretting his decision to follow you here. 

Now seated you picked up the menu and started to scan it. 

“You already know what you want. Y/N” Dazai said amused. “You always order the same thing.” 

His smile grew as you put down the menu and glared at his teasing. “What if I wanted something different this time.” 

“Hell would freeze over Y/N. And the flying pigs would be out as soon as the rain stopped.” 

You scoffed cutely. “just for that I’m ordering something different.” 

“I wouldn’t.” Dazai said, “ you remember the last time you were adventurous.” 

Your eyes were wide with embarrassment. 

“You swore you would never bring it up!” 

“To anyone else.” Dazai corrected. He thought back on the time you’d ordered something new, and were so sick he’d brought you home, and had to hold your hair as you puked over the toilet. Obviously embarrassing for you but a fondly domestic memory for Dazai. 

The waitress interrupted whatever you were going to say next and further Dazai’s amusement you ordered your regular. 

“Dazai” you said after the waitress had collected your orders and it had been quiet for a while. Dazai’s heart started to thump again, the real reason you’d asked him to come to dinner was coming. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for it. 

You had that look again, that stored up courage look. “ Let’s be friends again.”

He wasn’t sure if this was on his list of things he expected you to say. Some irrational part of his thought this would be your announcement of your engagement to Kunikida which he would have congratulated you on and then left to get very very drunk. 

Your fists were clenched in your lap as you forced yourself to look at him.

“I’m sorry… if I did something wrong, and that’s why you stopped wanting to be around me. If I was - annoying or something I can-“

“Y/N” you blinked almost jerking at Dazai’s sudden harsh tone. He was angry, suddenly, 

“You could never annoy me.” 

The statement hung heavy in the air like cement. 

“And you don’t have anything to apologize for.” He tried to soften his voice as he wasn’t angry at you. He was more angry at himself. That’s why you thought he’d pushed you away? 

“Then why-“

“We can’t be friends.. Y/N” better to cut this off now. A few drinks was sounding better by the second. He dared a glance at your face and regretted it. You looked shattered, then confused, then angry. He hadn’t really seen you angry. It was beautiful in a way. 

A hot tear pressed down your cheek and you angrily wiped it away. 

“Why.” You asked now a wobble in your otherwise hard tone. 

“It’s better to remain professional in the workplace.” Dazai offered up, it was weak but his mind was spinning so his normal snake charming words were not coming to him. 

“Bullshit.” You said leaning forward. “You're not that way with anyone else in the agency. Hell you're not professional at all.” 

Dazai smiled at this, despite how heavy he was feeling.

“That’s fair.” He said softly. 

“Stop fucking with me Dazai.” You said anger still dripping over your tone although you were trying to keep it down since others were around. 

“One night were drunk together and up till 4am telling each other everything and the next week you stopped talking to me.” 

Your voice broke at the end of that. Another angry tear wipe. You pointed at him now.

“You let me in, you let me see you, and now you're going to pretend like we weren’t something?”

“Yes.” Dazai said with an edge . “ yes I am going to pretend.” 

“Why!” Your voice went a little higher than a regular speaking voice drawing a few more eyes but neither of you cared. There was only the person sitting in front of the other. 

“Because Y/N. I don’t want to be just friends.” Dazai felt like a popped balloon, that air just coming out of him rapidly. Years of holding that very phrase in and here he was whisper- shouting it at you in his favorite hole in the wall. That was only his favorite because of his memories with you. 

He kept going now, no sense in stopping now. “ I want to hold your hand, to kiss you, to be the last thing you see at night and the first thing you see in the morning. I want to hold you when you're sad, and tease you when you do something embarrassing. I want you to fill up my life with your light” it was a mouthful, and Dazai sighed, looking up at you now, your face in shock. 

You smiled suddenly, another tear falling but you didn’t make a move to wipe it away.

“I don’t want to be just friends either Dazai.” You said and he felt his heart starting its kathunk kathunk in his chest again. 

“I thought maybe you didn’t feel the same way as I did. But I wanted to be near you. And things were so great when we were friends. And then we stopped and I thought at least I could still be around you. But I don’t want that it’s not enough. Just being around you, just being your friend isn’t enough. I want to be with you. Dazai.”

Dazai swallowed hard, if Atsushi’s words were diamonds you were like the rain. Cleansing away the unsightly parts of himself that he hated, he picked at. Soothing the old wounds that he’d left open as punishment to himself. 

“We can’t… I can’t….” Dazai couldn’t finish. He looked up to you. “Every Time I love someone they die.” He shook his head slightly. “and I won’t lose you too.” 

He thought then of Oda. He still couldn’t decide how he’d loved the man, there was a seed there, growing, and if he’d had more time, Dazai thinks he could have figured it out. Did he love Oda the way he loved Atshushi or Kunikida or did he love Oda the way he’d loved you?

But for Oda to be alive, and Dazai to have an answer to that question, Dazai needed to have removed himself from Oda’s life.

 Dazai’s thoughts of Oda evaporated as he felt the warm touch of your hand to his. He looked up at you then, your eyes a calm steady sea to his stormy brooding ones.

He wanted to steal you away from the others eyes, take you somewhere safe where only he could gaze upon you. Strange feelings from someone who spent so much effort in not caring. 

“You're a good person, Dazai.” You said. “I’ve seen it, I’ve seen your soul. Death is not the punishment for love. Life takes who she wants when she wants regardless of who we love and what we want. I’d rather die, having known your love than live forever without it.” 

He kissed you then, over the tea that had gone cold, besides the people who were pretending not to listen to your conversation. The only thing he could hear was the sounds of rain dancing on the canopy above your heads. 

———

Somehow the both of you knew that going home alone wasn’t an option. As the hole in the wall was closest to your place, it was decided without speaking that that is where you would go. You walked there holding hands. 

Dazai’s mind was spinning with thoughts of your kiss, thoughts of you he’d tried to keep down but it wasn’t working and his pants were stiffening. 

You’d looked at him, one look, that set him on fire. And as you crossed into your apartment threshold, he couldn’t seem to grab enough of you. The umbrella he’d borrowed from you was on the floor, along with your  pretty coat, leaving wet stains on the floor. You were pressed between him in the wall, your hands deep into his tresses as he kissed you, his hands gripping almost painfully at your sides. 

He pressed his lower body up against you unable to control the moan that came from his mouth at the contact of his hardened self against you.

“I need you.” He breathed out sounding so impossibly vulnerable.

“You have me.” You said between kisses, and so he did, his wide palms sliding below your waist end scooping you into the air, your legs wrapped around his lanky figure. 

He carried you to your room, my memory as you had yet to stop kissing him, and he couldn’t see. 

When he was there you fell into the bed, soft covers swallowing you up. He had thoughts to tease you, to take things slow, and feel every single moment of this. But as his fingers seperated your pants buttons and found their way to your core he couldn’t stop himself from pleasuring you. 

Your moans were honey, as he slid down your clothing and his mouth latched to your clit. One of your hands had traveled to his hair and the other was gripping his arm which was around your waist keeping your hips down to the bed. 

He wanted more from you working his tongue and fingers at a devastating pace. His cock painful in his pants at your honey dripped moans. His hand pressed down hard against your waist as you bucked against his face, sweat beading on your chest, it felt terribly good. 

“Daz-“ you choked out as you reached your end, your hand pulling at the base of his roots causing him to moan into your pussy. 

You couldn’t hold back your moan as you came, hard and fast, cheeks hot as he kept going riding you through your orgasm. 

Dazai felt your body go limp after you came, and he stood up reaching to unbutton his shirt but then your hands over lapped his and you began to remove his shirt. His lips were on your again as your removed his clothes. 

Dazai let out a small noise of surprise when you turned and pushed him towards the bed. He went willingly though his eyes half lidded in lust as you crawled over to him straddling his waist. He was taking you in, and fuck if he couldn’t come now just looking at you. 

You leaned forward ticking a finger under his chin and guiding his lips back to yours. Dazai felt his control slipping but he didn’t mind. He wanted to be yours, all yours. You could do whatever you wanted to him.

“Let me make you feel good.”’you whispered 

He hissed as you sank slowly down onto him your warmth wrapping around him like a vice. Damnit.

You moved again rising up your hips and bringing them back down at an agonizingly slow pace. This whole time he’d thought to tease you and it was you teasing him. 

Almost as if you were reading his mind you smirked dipping slower to kiss his neck. Dazai jerked, another moan on his lips as you kissed at his newly discovered sensitive spot. 

You’d hip were starting to pick up the pace a bit, sucking hard against his neck. Your pace and attack on his neck was torture, the best kind. 

His hands gripped your ass tightly now as you rode him, biting deeply against his neck. With each slap of skin you moved faster, Dazai felt like he could explode, and maybe he would. 

He couldn’t help himself, his hips snapping up into you suddenly causing you to throw your head back and moan. Oh yes he wanted more of that. 

Your hands fell to his chest as he fucked you, his dick pressing up against that spot that was making you unravel. 

In one swift motion he’d switched the flow and you were on your back again, and he was in between you. Your hands flew around his neck as he re-entered you. 

“Mhfph” you choked out as he pressed deep into you, moaning your name sweetly into your ear. 

He was one with you, as close as his magnet could reach, and though the fear of losing you still loomed in his mind, Dazai was in true bliss. 

You were close, that feeling of knitting in your stomach, his strong deep strokes had left you gasping. 

“Osamu” you crooned, and he looked down at you now. 

“Say that again.” He breathed out. 

Dazai felt like he was going to unravel, right as you’d said his name, the way it slipped from your mouth had his heart racing. 

He thrusted faster , kissing along your neck now. 

“Say it, say it again.” He moaned out.

“Mmm Osamu, “ you repeated his name over and over again like a holy chant. “Please.” 

His strokes were coming uneven, as he leaned down to take your sweet lips with his again, fucking hell he was going to come now, in the woman he’d loved for years. 

“Come with me.” He breathed out and you nodded rapidly, he pressed his forehead to yours as you felt yourself come apart at the edges. Sweeping in nothing but pleasure you both came.

“Osamu!” You cried out eyes shut in ecstasy. 

———-

Neither of you could be bothered to leave the bed. Dazai was holding you to his chest, your face in the crook of his neck, your heartbeats matching each other’s. 

“You know it’s too late for you now right?” You whispered, his fingers playing with your hair. 

Dazai smiled. “It was too late for me since the moment we met.” 

You chuckled softly, “that’s so cheesy.” 

Dazai chuckled back, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Yeah to bad you’ve got to deal with it from now on.”

“I love you, Osamu” Dazai heard you say, and even if he maybe thought he knew you did, it was different to hear you say it. He felt like he could break into a million pieces. Some stone cold bastard he was, he was absolute putty in your hands. 

“I love you to, Y/N” 

[aomine-ryo]

Umm, a scenario please with a jealous midorima!! Like the reader likes him, and he likes her. But both are shy/afraid to confess. And like, the reason they started talking was because of takao, so midorima misinterpets the reader liking takao, but she's just shy to act around him or something like that. So midorima is also aloof slash cold idk so reader thinks he hates/isn't interested in her. HEA pls!! :P thank youu ❤️

It’s a bit long, but I hope you like it!! xx

Scenario: Jealous Midorima with a crush on you

You weren’t too sure how it happened, but Takao was one of your first friends at Shutoku when you joined. You kind of lucked out on your first day by getting assigned a seat next to him because he was really easy to talk to, so you weren’t as lonely as you thought you’d be. Eventually, the two of you ended up becoming quite good friends and he introduced you to his teammate, Midorima, who he talked about quite often.

Midorima was also in your class, but he never really talked to you. Takao would often have to bounce back and forth between you two because both of you were equally as shy around new people and were unwilling to go through the awkward introduction. Takao finally got fed up though, so he just forced you two to talk to each other.

“Y/N, this is Midorima Shintaro. Shin-chan, this is Y/N,” Takao said, eyes sparkling and voice full of energy as he was desperate to minimise the amount of time he had to spend repeating the same stories.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” he said, seemingly fed up by Takao’s antics. While he appeared disinterested on the outside, Midorima thought you were incredibly cute— and totally his type. He just didn’t know how to flirt nor did he know how to hold a conversation with someone new, even if he really would like to get to know you more.

“Nice to meet you too,” you replied curtly.

There was nothing but an awkward silence left after that as both of you avoided any form of eye contact.

Takao let out a sigh, “You two are hopeless.” Takao swung his arm around your shoulders and shifted his weight onto you. “Y/N here is really interesting you know. You two are just too quiet for your own good. We’re all buddies now— no objections,” Takao declared, earning a small giggle from you at how carefree he was.

You noticed Midorima just roll his eyes at him. Something about the way his arm was hung around you and the fact that he made you giggle like that made Midorima feel slightly annoyed. He was aware that Takao was just like that with everyone, but the green haired boy couldn’t help but envy how he could so easily touch you without it being a big deal. “I don’t like the fact that I have no say in this, but whatever,” he said bluntly, not seeming interested in being there whatsoever.

As time went by, the three of you became quite close. You’d spend most of your time hanging out with them, however you still found it rather difficult to talk to Midorima even after months of being around him and Takao. You really wished you were more comfortable talking to him because you’d begun to develop feelings for him and you wanted to build up the courage to tell him by talking to him more, but it was impossible for you to approach him. He just had this energy that made you feel like he probably didn’t like you and was only forced to be your friend. Though you did have to keep reminding yourself that you’re probably just overthinking it.

Midorima on the other hand, did his best to avoid spending time with you and Takao. For some reason, he hated how much you’d talk and laugh with Takao as it just filled him with this resentful feeling that made him wish that he was as easygoing as his friend. He’d never admit to himself that he was jealous though— his pride wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Furthermore, to him, it was as clear as day that you liked Takao. You spent most of your time in class around him, and Midorima swore that your face would light up every time he was around you. So to avoid the pain in his chest he’d feel every time he sees that, he did his best not to be with you two together. That didn’t stop him from thinking about you all the time though. You took up so much of his thoughts that he just found himself constantly comparing himself to Takao and wishing that he was different.

You were meant to be hanging out with Midorima and Takao one evening because there was this new pastry shop that Takao was dying to try out, and obviously he had to drag you two along with him. All of you had decided to meet at the shop and you thought that you would be the last one to get there since you were running a few minutes late. However, when you arrived, you were surprised to find just Midorima sitting at a table with two empty chairs.

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late. Where’s Takao?” you greeted him as you took a seat.

“No idea. That idiot won’t pick up my calls,” Midorima said with a shrug as he put his phone down on the table in frustration.

“That’s weird. Let me give it a try,” you said as you fished your phone out of your pocket.

It took a few rings but Takao eventually picked up. “Hey Takao. Midorima and I are at the shop. Where are you?” you spoke.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t think I can make it. My mum wants me to drop my sister off at her friend’s house all of a sudden,” Takao explained, with a slight ruffling sound in the background.

“Oh that sucks. Maybe we can come here with you some other time then,” you said.

“Yeah hopefully. I was looking forward to it. Anyways, have fun guys,” Takao replied, still a hint of cheeriness in his tone.

“He’s not coming,” you informed Midorima (who was slightly offended that Takao picked up your call and not his) once you ended your conversation with Takao.

“Well isn’t that lovely,” he said sarcastically.

You were really hoping that Takao would come because now that the two of you were alone, you didn’t know what to do. “So now what?” you said, praying that it wouldn’t be as awkward as you imagine.

“I mean, we might as well get something since we’re here,” Midorima shrugged, not wanting the trip here to have gone to waste, but at the same time wanting to spend some time with you. “Unless you want to leave?”

“No, no, it’s alright. I’ve been waiting to try this place out for a while anyways,” you said as you picked up the menu and began to browse through in silence.

The two of you placed your orders and sat there waiting impatiently. The place was rather busy so you were surrounded by a faint chatter, however the air between you two was heavy.

“So, do you have any matches coming up?” you asked to fill the silence. You had to get to know him eventually— he’s best friends with someone you’re close to after all.

“Yeah, preliminaries are starting in about two weeks I think,” Midorima replied.

“Oh, text me the dates— I might drop by. I’ve heard you’re quite a star on the court so I’ve been dying to see you play,” you smiled, hoping that it wasn’t too forward of you to be saying something like that when you liked him.

“Really? Are you sure you don’t just want to watch Takao?” Midorima asked simply. He was convinced that you liked Takao so he felt that it was okay to be saying it as it is, even though it did hurt slightly.

“Well, sure I can watch Takao too I guess. You’re both my friends and on the same team after all,” you said, slightly confused as to why he’d say something like that. “I’m really interested to see you though.”

“Why’s that?”

“Takao’s been raving about how you can shoot from anywhere on the court and I really want to see you in action, you know?” you said.

“You can always drop by a practice to see that too,” he said.

“Really? Can I?” You said as your eyes lit up.

“You’re awfully excited to see me play,” Midorima joked, the faintest of smiles appearing on his face, making you realise how rare it was to see him like this. “Sure, you can come watch.”

“Woah, I’ve never seen you smile,” you pointed out, making him immediately straighten his expression.

“What do you mean? Am I not allowed to smile?” he asked, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat.

“No, you’re allowed to— it’s just that I’ve never seen it before until now... it’s kind of cute,” you said, mumbling the last part.

Midorima felt his cheeks heat up at the sound of those words. He did hear you call him cute, right? “Thanks. But don’t think saying that is going to make me smile more. I smile when I want to,” Midorima said defensively, feeling as though he could explode at any moment now.

“Noted,” you chuckled. “You know, I always thought you hated me or something. So I’m glad we can talk like this,” you said honestly, trying to continue the conversation and avoid any awkward silences.

“Hate you? Why would I hate you?” Midorima questioned. If anything, it was the pure opposite. He was sure that he had fallen for you. He just didn’t know how to express it.

“I don’t know, you just don’t say much when I’m around. I know you talk to Takao a lot though, so I figured I was the issue,” you explained with a shrug.

“I can assure you it’s nothing like that— you’re thinking too much into it. I thought you preferred talking to Takao so I just backed off a bit,” he said, not sure how he ended up being so honest with you.

“I don’t really have any preferences like that. I’ve been wanting to talk to you more but I didn’t know how. In a way, I’m kind of glad we can spend some time like this, you know? Did you really think I preferred Takao that much?”

“Well, yeah. I kind of thought you had a crush on him or something,” he said, not wanting to meet your eyes because he was aware about how strange it sounded.

“On Takao? No way. He’s really just a close friend. I don’t see him like that,” you replied, unable to hold back a small laugh.

For reasons he didn’t want to admit, Midorima felt a surge of happiness upon hearing those words. “Oh that makes things easier,” he thought out loud without realising it.

“How so?” you replied, making him panic internally.

Was he really going to say it now? “Well, I have feelings for you and I’ve been holding back from saying anything because I thought you liked Takao. But since that’s not the case, I guess I feel more comfortable saying it now,” he said, aware that he was blabbering to delay your response out of nervousness.

There was a moment of silence between you two as you processed what he had just said. You could barely believe your ears. The feelings were mutual after all.

Midorima finally looked at you to see if he could understand how you were feeling based on your expressions, but all he managed to think of was how pretty you looked sitting across from him. “If you don’t feel the same way, it’s alright. We can just pretend I never said anything—“

“No,” you cut him off as you placed your hand over his, which was resting on the table. “I definitely feel the same way. I just can’t believe that it’s actually real,” you chuckled.

Midorima looked down at how your small hand laid on top of his and he couldn’t help but think that his heart was going to beat right out of his chest at the sound of those words as well as the way you smiled at him. He couldn’t believe that he was the one that got you to smile like that, let alone that you actually felt the same way.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that?” Midorima asked, his paranoid mind still unable to believe that this was actually happening.

“I’m certain,” you said, giving his hand a tight squeeze. “So, is this our first date?” you giggled jokingly.

“No way. I will take you out on my own terms so this doesn’t count,” he said, the smile returning to his face once again as he found your giggles contagious.

You found yourself getting lost in his green eyes as both of your hearts beat at the speed of light. “Well then, I can’t wait.”

[andypantsx3]

conspire | 1 | scheme

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 13,307 words / 5 chapters

summary: Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

tags: romance, reader-insert, fake dating, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Shouto Todoroki was standing outside your workroom.

This was unusual, as in the three years you’d both been attending UA, Todoroki had hardly been spotted anywhere near the support course rooms. Class H was typically avoided by anyone who didn’t want your classmate Mei to catch wind of them -- and very few hero course students had proved willing to do so, once they’d encountered her the first time.

Todoroki was one of the smart ones.

He looked incredibly out of place and yet almost comically festive in the doorway of the studio, his red and white mop of hair matching the horrible red and white heart banner someone had tacked above the entry for Valentine’s Day. He stopped midway through the door, eyes flicking over the other offensively bright decor, including several violently pink heart balloons and heinous red streamers that hung from the ceiling like sausages curing in a deli.

A ripple of interest went through the female segment of your classmates at his arrival, and despite yourself, you perked up too.

You didn’t know much about him, but Shouto Todoroki had the most interesting quirk you had ever worked with. You’d been paired for a project earlier this year where you’d helped develop an adjustment to his temperature jacket that used pattern recognition to help it anticipate changes in his quirk, in order to begin applying temperature controls sometimes even before he’d made the switch from hot to cold or vice versa.

You hadn’t spoken much on topics outside the project, but on the subject of your work, Todoroki had proved himself smart as a whip, asking insightful and probing questions, and making sensible suggestions based on what he learned from you. He’d been so keen on your ideas and so shockingly easy to work with that you’d lamented the project’s end.

It had only lasted two weeks, unfortunately, wrapping up before you’d had the chance to really delve into his personality or the actual science behind his quirk, and you’d been dying for the opportunity to pair up again and really study him since.

Less importantly, Shouto Todoroki was also inarguably the most handsome boy in your year, maybe even at all of UA. He was tall, strapped with lean muscle, and equipped with a facial symmetry that was almost more deadly than his quirk. Even his scar did nothing to deter from his good looks, only adding a roughed up, roguish charm to his otherwise pretty features. The first few days of your project, you’d had to pinch yourself on the leg more than a few times in order to reroute your brain from his face to the actual jacket.

You’d since put effort into ignoring his appearance, but you couldn’t really help that your eyes were pulled to him like a magnet whenever he stepped into a room.

Like now.

Todoroki’s own grey and blue eyes scanned over the faces of your classmates, stopping when they landed on you.

“Y/N,” he said in greeting, and you raised a bewildered hand. Several nearby girls shot you betrayed looks, like you’d been keeping an association with him secret. You’d have shot yourself something of a questioning look, too, if you could have. What reason would Shouto Todoroki have to seek you out outside of class? It had been almost a month since the project together. What might he want with you now?

“Hi, Todoroki,” you said, wondering if you’d awoken in some parallel dimension where he thought you were friends. “Uh, what brings you here?”

“I have a personal request,” he said in his low, soft tone, stepping into the room and making his way over to your worktable. He’d shed the grey blazer of the school uniform for the crisp white dress shirt and tie, and he looked unbearably good. As he drew closer, you could see the way his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt.

You self-consciously pushed around the messy wires and metal framing on your worktop, trying to clear space.

A personal request. Had he come for some kind of support item? Your mind suddenly ran with possibilities, and a thrill went through you at the potential to study half hot half cold in earnest. This was the kind of extracurricular project you’d been dreaming of, maybe even something that you could scope out and build as your submission for your senior project next month!

“Sure,” you said, gesturing to the other stool at your worktop and rifling around in your bag for a pen and paper. You’d probably need to take notes.

Todoroki stared at you. “Ah, not that kind of a request,” he said, eyeing your pen and paper.

Your cheer dropped. Oh.

“I had hoped to ask you in private, actually,” he said, something like discomfort flashing across his handsome features. He looked almost nervous, and you wondered wildly what kind of support request would make one of UA’s big three this awkward. Was he having a problem with his quirk that he didn’t want to cop to?

“Okay,” you said, looking up at him, “lead the way.”

A cool hand came up to grasp your wrist, tugging you out of your chair. Your face burned at the casual touch, and you felt the curious eyes of your classmates on you as you were led from the room.

Todoroki steered you through the hall and around the corner to a small alcove out of the way of student traffic. The alcove had clearly had the same treatment as your workrooms, festooned with a banner boasting a bizarre pattern of tiny All Might silhouettes interspersed with hearts. Your eyes felt like they might catch fire if you looked at it for too long.

“How have you been since the project?” you asked Todoroki, in the interest of being companionable. “Is everything on your vest still working well?”

A smile touched the corner of his mouth as he turned to face you. “It’s incredible. It still surprises me that it can predict what I’m going to do before I even think to do it.”

You flushed at the praise. “I’m glad. It was really cool work on. Your quirk is awesome - normally there are only so many variables with pattern prediction like that but the two sides of your quirk increased the possibilities exponentially, so the algorithm was hard to code. I had to get a little extra help from an actual computer scientist,” you admitted, before slapping a hand over your mouth, realizing you were rambling.

His smile widened and your traitorous eyes caught on his mouth. “You sound exactly as you did the last time we talked.”

You winced. “Yeah, sorry.”

His eyes widened and the hand on your wrist tightened. “No, I didn’t mean--it’s nice,” he said. His fingers seemed to grow the tiniest bit colder where he held you. “I would have liked to have worked with you longer.”

You tamped down on another blush, looking away. “Yeah. It’s too bad.”

Just then, footsteps sounded in the hall, and Himari Honda came wheeling around the corner.

Himari was another student you’d been paired with for a project at one time, and she hadn’t worked nearly as well with you as Todoroki had. A general course student with a quirk that let her track anyone within up to a mile of her person, Himari’s goal after graduation was to become an actress, with a particular focus on playing the love interest of powerful hero characters. She was certainly pretty enough, with large eyes, high cheekbones, and shiny pink hair that she wore in a long plait down her back, but that’s where her appeal ended. She wasn’t horrible, but she was a little too self-interested and it had certainly shown in how she’d handled your pair project.

Himari smiled winningly at Todoroki, and it became clear to you that she’d tracked him with her quirk. You knew instantly why she’d come to find him, today of all days.

“Hi, Shouto,” she purred. His fingers tightened where he still held your wrist.

“Hello,” he said politely.

You stifled a laugh at the carefully blank look he’d suddenly adopted. You guessed he’d been fending off advances of this type all day -- you’d caught sight of his shoe cubby when you’d changed into your own uniform shoes this morning, absolutely bursting with chocolate and brightly-colored valentine's notes. He was too handsome for his own good, it appeared. Still, it was interesting that Todoroki seemed not the slightest bit interested in what someone who looked like Himari had to say.

“Maybe I should go,” you said, tugging your wrist back, but Todoroki gripped you tighter.

“I still need to talk to you,” he said. He fixed you with an intense look like he could pin you in place with his gaze.

Himari seemed to ignore you. “Shouto, I was hoping to talk to you alone.”

“I’m a little occupied at the minute,” he said, gesturing to you. You gave a little wave.

Himari shot you a betrayed look like you’d beaten her to the punch, then puffed up like she was drawing up her courage. “Don’t accept her confession! Accept mine! I like you -- please go out with me!”

Your jaw dropped. You’d definitely not been in the middle of asking Todoroki out, but damn it took balls to cut another woman off like that. You couldn’t tell if you respected her or hated her for her shamelessness.

Todoroki shifted uncomfortably next to you. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I can’t accept your feelings. You see, I was just about to ask Y/N out.”

Your mind went blank.

He what now? Is that why he’d brought you to this alcove to speak to you in private? Is that why he’d been so nervous back in the support studio, asking to talk to you alone? Shouto Todoroki had wanted to ask you out?

You wondered at that. You couldn’t understand why, when he could have his pick of any girl at UA. You were fine, sure -- reasonably smart with good grades and a neat appearance, but you weren’t anywhere near his level of mind-numbing attractiveness. More than that, you didn’t even have a quirk, and it was impossible that someone who wielded a power like half hot half cold was going to wade that far into the bleak depths of the dating pool. He had plenty of other options, so why come to you...?

Then, like a slow sunrise, it dawned on you what he was actually up to.

Todoroki was trying to get rid of all the confessions in one fell swoop. If Himari went back to her classmates and told everyone what had happened, rumors would spread very quickly that Shouto Todoroki was a dead-end bet. No one would try to ask him out anymore if his heart purportedly belonged to another.

That sneaky little fuck.

“Right,” you said, perking up and playing along gamely. “And I was just about to accept,” you announced to Himari.

Todoroki threw you a wild look like he hadn’t expected you to take this track. Shit, had you been supposed to reject him instead? You could, you supposed, but what hot-blooded woman in possession of sound mind and sound body would possibly do so? Did he also want to start the rumor that you were a complete nutjob?

“Um, I mean, I was about to respond privately,” you backpedaled. “Uh, nothing confirmed at this point.”

Himari gave you a furious look, her large eyes filling with tears, and turned on her heel, storming off. Your heart went out to her, just a little.

“You’d really accept?” Todoroki asked you as soon as she’d gone. Something unreadable glinted in his two-toned gaze.

You thought for a moment. Did he actually want to do this? It was barely a couple months until graduation, but you had nothing to lose in helping him. Maybe this was also your opportunity to study his quirk more closely, if you were going to be spending more time together to keep up appearances. You might actually be able to use him for your senior project.

“Sure,” you said, smiling up at him. “If you wanted this, I mean.”

A smile curved the edges of his mouth. “I did, yes.”

“Great,” you said, “Then you’re officially my boyfriend, Todoroki.”

His smile widened. “It’s Shouto.”

You looked at him in question.

“My name, it’s Shouto,” he said. “I’d like it if you would call me that.”

Something warm bloomed in your chest. This was all pretend but damn it was cute anyway. “Shouto,” you tested it out, liking the sound of it in your mouth.

Shouto seemed to like it too, unwinding his fingers from your wrist to slip his hand into yours. The cool of his fingers between yours was soothing, and you quite liked the way it felt.

“Are you free Saturday, then, for a first date?” he asked.

He did nothing by halves, huh? You laughed. “Yes, I’m free. Text me the time and place?”

He agreed and you traded phones, plugging in each other’s numbers. Then he walked you back to your workroom and left you with promises to see you Saturday, after sending you a characteristically straightforward this is shouto text to confirm.

You smiled as you watched him leave, pleased to be in on his little scheme.

You’d never fake dated anyone before so you didn’t really know what you were getting into, but you thought this could be fun. You were looking forward to whatever Shouto had up his sleeve.

[thesquidkid]

Lately I've been feeling so alone

Based of this post by @milady-bugg, thank you for letting me use it as inspiration for a fic 😁

This is sadder than intended, and full of Michael Guerin feels, hope you'll enjoy! This is also quite long (5.4k lmao), so you can read it on AO3 if you prefer.

Michael had isolated himself in his bunker, not letting anyone - even Sanders - in. At first, there were a few knocks, the door opening a few times and each time, Michael would slam it shut with his powers. He needed to process. It was one thing, to know that you were the son of a monster, another to face the man as he gave his own son a heart attack. Father of the year, right here!

So Michael had isolated himself between 4 walls, literally underground, where he could let all his anger free without hurting anyone. But the others couldn’t really understand that, and he couldn’t blame them. So everyone went on to live their lives, do what they were good at.

Isobel and Rosa were looking for Max, searching every cave, every abandoned house, turning every stone, using Rosa’s new found ability. Liz was making sure Maria stayed stable and healthy, her state hadn’t really decreased, but it hadn’t improved either. Whatever was going on, she seemed to continue the fight. Because Maria DeLuca was her own saviour, every damn time.

Michael didn’t have any news of Alex, just that he had found Kyle and that he was safe. He had hesitated calling Alex a few times, to compare notes on shitty father, but that wouldn’t have been fair to Alex, the person who tried every damn day to distance himself from his father, to fix what he broke, to be a better man.

So Michael was alone, in his bunker, with Sanders coming in every once in a while to complain that Michael wasn’t working, but both knew it was just an excuse to check up on him, make sure he was doing fine.

And really, he was. After the initial shock of finding out that his father was a copy of his brother (really, all those times Max had played his father, it was just in his DNA), where he completely and utterly lost it, he was now in a much calmer headspace. He had repositioned all the furniture that had been thrown against the walls, had done some extensive cleaning and given back a few tools and random parts he found to Sanders.

Although, he was still feeling empty. Had emptied his entire body, crying, shouting, wanting to break stuff with his powers, but knowing that if he did he would have to replace it somehow. And he was still broke. So he had to figure out another way of letting his emotions free, that didn’t involve breaking the little stuff he owned, and regretting it.

Instead, he focused on what he was good at. Had put all of the alien tech he had on the main workspace, fiddling with it at first, letting his hand move freely on it, feeling the way the tech reacted to him. From then, he realised that he still didn’t completely know what the tech could do, had assumed it was only part of the ship, but the recent events, with Kyle’s radio and Jones’ sword, he was getting curious as to what he could do, with his imagination and mechanical skills.

This is where it all started, with the alien glass and his tools, letting his hands move as they desired, his mind still busy thinking about - well, everything that happened in the last few days, from Jones being his father, to Max maybe still nearly dying, to Maria being in a coma, and to Alex being God knows where doing God knows what.

As he thought about his friends, his family, his people, his fingers were doing something similar. This is how he found himself, after three days in the bunker, barely sleeping, not at all in contact with the outside world - only going out to take a shower, get some food, and use the toilet in the airstream - with a bunch of glass objects, clearly designed for his friends, and not knowing what to do with all of it. Well, he knew, but that meant going out and seeing them, their faces, probably full of pity, no one knowing how to address the elephant in the room - Jones.

He was building up the courage to get out and gift his creations as peace offering, or whatever they wanted them to be, when he was disturbed by a knock on the latch, then it opened, followed by a very familiar voice that he didn’t expect to hear any time soon.

“Look, Guerin, I get that you want to be alone right now, and uh, yeah -” Alex Manes said, passing a hand across the face, fighting the want to jump down that ladder, understanding more than anyone what being the son of a monster felt like, and even then, neither of their experiences were comparable. “I’m just here to tell you that, ah, Maria woke up, and uh, she’ll be staying in the hospital for a little longer, so uh, yeah that’s what I came here to say.” he finished, and stood up from where he was crouching above the opened latch, looking down in the bunker but not seeing more than the ladder and light. He could also slightly distinguish Michael’s shadow, glowing under all the lights he guessed were alien.

Michael thought Alex had left, and nearly closed the latch using his powers, when he heard the last few words, barely a whisper, but clear as day to him. And he knew that Alex knew that he heard them. “I’m here. If you ever want to talk, or whatever. I’m here for you, Michael.” And with that, Alex left, understanding the peace of being alone with your thoughts, and knowing that Michael would come out whenever he was ready to.

And he was ready to come out. Soon after he heard Alex’s car leave the junkyard, he rushed to his airstream to take a shower and change clothes, taking with him the glass object he had made for Maria. When Sanders saw him leave the airstream, showered, dressed in clothes that hadn’t been worn the past three days, smiling, he couldn’t stop the teasing comment, “If I knew getting your boy here would get you out, I’d have done it long ago.” Despite the comment, he was glad that Michael was feeling better, and even more glad to hear the “Not my boy. Maria’s awake,” that came from Michael as he drove away, leaving Sanders in the junkyard, a smile on his face. The kid was starting to realise that family wasn’t the blood coursing through your veins, but the people you choose to surround yourself with. He hoped Ms. Nora would be proud of her boy, wherever she was.

Michael drove to the hospital at a respectable speed, not wanting to get arrested the day Maria woke up - she would never stop making fun of him about it. He nearly ran towards her room, stopping only at the open door, taking in the people in the room. Liz was at the foot of Maria’s bed, holding a board with papers clipped to it - most likely Maria’s health results - talking with her hands, a large smile on her face. Rosa was sitting on the bed, next to Liz, exchanging side smiles with Maria, her entire body more relaxed than she had been since Maria’s coma. Isobel was standing to the side of the room, leaning against the wall, facing the door. She was the first to see Michael, making him smile back, and promising her to talk and hang out, by their psychic bond. Finally, he turned his eyes to the head of Maria’s bed, where the two Manes men who had gone against their father were sitting, Greg leaning against the back of the chair, a hand holding Maria’s and the other going up and down on her arm in a reassuring sign, Alex on the other side sitting with his elbows on his knees, chin resting on one hand, apparently the only one truly listening to what Liz had to say.

He cleared his throat, not knowing how else to announce his presence. “Mikey!” came the synchronised shout from the Orthecho sisters, “what took you so long, dude? We texted you ages ago!” Rosa teasingly asked, Michael not bothering with an answer and simply sticking his tongue out to her, earning him a roll of the eyes from Liz and Isobel, a full on laugh from Rosa and a slight chuckle from Alex.

“How you feeling, DeLuca?” he started to ask, his voice clear with worry, but remembering many of their conversations, he continued with something he knew she would prefer to him worrying too much, “I might check out some other bar if you stay out of the game for too long.”

And he seemed to have been right, as Maria giggled and stood up straighter, “Oh I’m not too worried you’ll be right back at the Pony in no time Guerin,” she said smiling at him, which Michael copied. “And,” she added, pointing her finger in his direction, “you still owe me 15,09 bucks, don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Michael shook his head, of course she wouldn’t forget the drinks he had during the last year that he hasn’t yet repaid in services. Since it was the pandemic, they both didn’t have much money so they agreed that whatever drinks he ordered would be paid back in free car or bar maintenance, and vice versa. As if they weren’t already cutting deals for each other.

Feeling all eyes on him, especially since he had gone AWOL for the last three days, Michael cleared his throat once more and took a few hesitant steps towards Maria, ignoring everyone in the room but her. “I, uh, made you something?” he said, cursing himself mentally for making it sound like a question, “here,” he put his hand in his jacket pocket and took out four little alien glass hairpins, ‘it’s alien glass, I thought you might like them.”

He looked at her to see some tears in her eyes as she took the hairpins and observed them in her hands. “They’re, Michael, those are amazing ,” she said with so much sincerity that Michael was taken aback by it, “Thank you.” she added with a smile.

In the end Michael sat on the floor against the wall, listening closely to Maria talking about what had happened with Jones. He felt at ease, surrounded by his friends, still feeling the weight of Kyle and Max missing, but everyone enjoying this small light in what had felt like a week of pure darkness.

Being with Maria, giving them his creation, had given him the courage to talk to the others, and hand them their gifts. He went to see Liz, one day, as she was still in Kyle’s office, observing scans of Maria’s brain. He pointedly ignored those pictures, deciding that he wasn’t going to think of what his father could have done to Maria and her brain, knowing the guilt he would feel if he did. Instead he stood in front of Liz and handed her two teardrop earrings made out of alien glass.

She stopped in the middle of her sentence, and stared up at Michael who smiled awkwardly, her mouth agape as she took in the beauty of the jewelry. “Mikey, wow, I - I don’t know what to say.” she said, looking back and forth between the earrings and Michael.

“It’s nothing, Ortecho, really, I had glass laying around and -” he started to say but was interrupted by Liz. “Thank you.” she nearly shouted, standing up and bending him in a tight embrace, which he returned gladly. He then held up Liz’s phone as a mirror as she put them on and admired herself, making both of them laugh, before reality caught up, and they both needed to focus on Max, Kyle, and Maria. Liz kept the earrings the entire day, and wears them on any occasion she can, the alien colorful glass going with a multitude of clothing combinaisons.

The next person Michael gave a present to was Rosa. She was at the junkyard to train her powers when he surprised her with alien windchimes. He quickly used his powers to hang them up while she had her eyes closed and let the wind do the rest of the work. She opened her eyes in admiration of whatever sound she had heard and turned towards the source of it. “Woa,” she said under her breath as she walked slowly towards them, until finally touching them with her hands, letting the windchimes sing under her fingers, the alien glass slightly reacting.

“You made those?” she asked, turning around to Michael. He nodded, smiling, feeling quite proud of his work. “The sound they make,” continued Rosa, turning once again to look at the windchimes, Michael walking closer to her, “it’s - I don’t think I can compare it to anything.” He nodded once more, encouraging Rosa to continue, “It’s like a melody. I can hear the wind, but it’s different, it’s beautiful.”

She leaned against Michael who was now standing slightly behind her, Michael instinctively putting her arm around her shoulders, the two of them standing in the middle of the junkyard, admiring the alien glass windchimes Michael had made for Rosa. She would come buy the junkyard many times, listening at the way the wind circled through the windchimes, admiring their beauty.

After that it all happened really quickly; Rosa and Isobel found Max, Michael and Liz had been called to the rescue (Jones had apparently regained his body and vanished), followed by Kyle waking up, Greg and Maria rushing to some ranch in the middle of nowhere to get Kyle and Alex. Eventually, all this craziness died down for a bit, Max was hiding in Alex’s cabin in the woods, since Jones had used his body to commit crimes, he couldn’t really go grocery shopping without getting arrested, and Kyle had regained his job at the hospital. Michael seriously wondered how he hadn’t been fired yet, but he wasn’t complaining, at least someone in their group seemed to know what he was doing with his life.

He made his way back to the hospital, except this time to see the one person he swore he would never visit as a kid. A doctor. But not just any doctor, a doctor who was quickly becoming a good friend of his, which he obviously wasn’t going to admit. He walked in the corridors, knowing the place quite well by now, and knocked on Kyle’s office door. A tired “Come in” answered and he opened the door.

As soon as Kyle saw who was on the other side of the door, he groaned and nearly snapped, thinking that maybe now would be the time to get a new group of friends that didn’t have alien emergencies every four hours. Michael must’ve sensed what Kyle was about to say (something along the lines “I don’t care that the world is burning because of some alien invasion, I need sleep! And no, a coma doesn’t count.”) because he raised his hands in surrender, a smug smile on his face.

“Relax, no alien life or death situations, or at least not that I know of.” This had the expected effect, Kyle relaxed in his chair, crossed his arms on his chest and raised an eyebrow at Michael, silently asking him why he was here then. Michael closed the door behind him and sat opposite Kyle, on one of the patients chairs. Still smiling, he took out of his pocket two glass paperweights that he delicately put on the desk for Kyle to grab, just as delicately.

Kyle was silent as he turned the paperweights between his hands, admiring all the different angles, reflecting his desk light on the walls and papers he had on his desk. While Kyle was busy, Michael slowly put his hand in his other jacket pocket and took out a glass snow globe with a little cardboard UFO, two little plastic aliens, and pink fake snow. He put it on the desk and waited for Kyle to notice, after having put the paper weights on top of two small piles he had.

When he saw the snow globe, his face lit up with astonishment, and he looked up to Micheal, once again speechless. “I know what it’s like to see a doctor as a kid and being scared,” Michael said, not looking at Kyle but at the little snowball, “and I know it’s not the same, but uh-”

“I’m sure the kids will love it, Michael.” Kyle said, honestly. He took the globe and shook it, chuckling at the way the UFO dangled, the way the little Aliens wiggled and the way the pink snow fell on everything. “Thank you.”

Michael shrugged, “Consider it payback,” he said, with a sincere smile this time, “for all the times you saved our asses.” And with that, he stood up, waved awkwardly at Kyle (who waved back just as awkwardly) and left.

Kyle took care of the paperweights, who in reality weren’t so heavy, but never broke as they fell. All the kids that came by his office would stare at the little snow globe, admiring it, feeling calmer and safer during their appointment.

Isobel called Michael over the next day. She said she wanted to go shopping for Max, since he was stuck away and was getting bored (how he had already read all the books Alex gave him, was a mystery to Michael, but he supposed when there really wasn’t anything else to do…)

Michael ran on her doorbell and let himself in, using his powers to unlock the door. He made his way to the living room and sat on the couch, looking at the decorations of Isobel’s walls. This house felt more homey than the one she had shared with Noah, there were paintings on the walls he knew Rosa had made, a few old and useless metallic pieces he had turned into sculptures and decorations laying around in various places. But what was really different was the huge bookshelf, books varying from science fiction (for Michael), to inspiring novels (for Isobel) to fantasy and romantic (for Max), indicating that this wasn’t just her home for her, but that her brothers were welcomed here too.

Michael put on the table the necklace he had made, the pendant made out of alien glass and the chain from some silver he had laying around the junkyard, and waited for Isobel to come out. When she did, she smiled at Michael and sat next on his left, facing him. “Okay, so I’ve been thinking, and our brother isn’t really the best cook so -”, she started to say, but cut herself as she saw what was on the table.

She grabbed the necklace between her fingers, and looked to Michael, who was leaning against the couch, an arm slung over it, a bright smile on his face. He winked at her, when he saw that Isobel was looking at him, and she leaned against him, her heard on his shoulder, Michael folding his arm around her.

“It’s beautiful, Michael,” Isobel said, emotions strong in her voice, “thank you.” Mihael rubbed his hand on her shoulder, not really knowing what to say, but wanting her to know that he would always be there.

Isobel wiggled the necklace in front of his face, Michael taking it with a chuckle as he attached it around her neck. The two of them stayed like that, leaning their heads against each other, in silence, in peace. Eventually, Isobel stood up, hurrying Michael out the door and into his truck to go shopping for Michael. And if they were a bit later than what they had told Max, arriving with humid eyes, no one made a comment about it, Max glad to have some company and more books to read.

Michael went back to see Max at least once a day, staying for a few hours or a couple of minutes, always checking in. The two had a lot to talk about, especially the elephant in the room - Max being a clone of Michael’s father.

Michael found himself enjoying those little brotherly moments, and more so the one after they had done the whole Jones subject. Michael would make a few comments about Liz staying in Roswell, to which Max would respond with questions about Alex.

“You know,” said Max on the third day Michael came when they were sitting around a fire pit, enjoying a few beers, after Michael had strongly avoided any topic about Alex, while also admitting to having some feelings (which Max knew of already, subtility wasn’t Michael’s - and Alex’s - strong suit), “this is the first time you and I have talked about dumb highschool crushed together.”

Michael chuckled at that, a hint of sadness that Max quickly brushed, “Hey no, the past is the past man, I’m just saying that I’m glad we’re finally talking, you know? Feels like we’re finally not hiding stuff.” And Michael raised his beer bottle at that. It was indeed the first time that they were both completely open, no more secret. They both were at fault on that, but as Max had said, the past was the past, no point reminiscing, when you could focus on making the future better.

With those thoughts in mind, he took out of his pocket an alien glass bolo tie with little turquoise end caps on the ties, and handed it to Max, who took it. They were both hypnotised by the way the flames reflected on the glass, the way the colors seemed to dance in the night.

Max didn’t say anything, didn’t have too. He put his beer on the floor next to him, stood up and motioned to Michael to do the same. Once they were both standing, facing each other, they hugged deeply, strongly. In the end, all the other bolo ties Max owned got mostly replaced by this one, being worn at every occasion he could, always with his brother in mind.

Michael had two more presents to offer, and was sitting in his bunker, not knowing how to approach either of the people they were made for. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to figure one out, as the person in question opened the latch and climbed down the stairs with a grunt. “Kid,” came Sander’s voice as soon as his feet reached the ground, “think you can use that brain of yours to build a lift here? Getting too old for this.”

“Well no one is forcing you to come, old man,” Michael replied, although there was no true bite to it. In fact, he quite enjoyed the old man’s occasional visits, even if all he did was complain. Michael turned around to face him, “Everything all good up there?” he asked, wondering why Sanders had come down. Sanders just nodded at him and took the last steps for him to arrive at Michael’s level, leaning his hands on the workspace. “What you working on, kid?”

“Uhm, actually -” started Michael, now that Sanders was here, might as well give him the present, right? “I got something for you.”

Using his powers, he approached a little metallic sunflower he had made from scrap pieces found here and there in the junkyard, and had made the center out of alien glass. The whole thing was attached to a chain to be held up against the door to Sanders house.

Sanders grabbed the sunflower and looked at it intensely with his good eye, remembering the colors Ms Nora’s creations were, seeing them once again on that little sunflower. Neither said anything, nor made a step forward to hug, neither being used to physical comfort, but they both knew how much that gesture meant.

To Michael, it meant acceptance, family, a sunflower for all the sunflowers they grew at the junkyard over the pandemic. To Sanders, it meant pride, it meant having kept his promise to Ms Nora to take care of his son, it meant family.

The sunflower was attached by Sanders' door, the alien glass glowing under the desert sun, always turning to face it, like all the many sunflowers they had in their field.

Which led Michael to one last gift. And if he was being honest with himself, the one he dreaded the most. Also the one that took him the most time and the most research. A gift for Alex. Taking his courage in both hands, he sent a quick text to Alex before he could have any chance to doubt himself. Free right now? I think I might take you up on your offer.

He didn’t have long to wait, as his phone buzzed almost immediately, On my way. Be there in 30 . He rushed back to his airstream, ignoring once more Sanders’ comment about getting ready for his boy , to get changed and put beers in the fridge. He opened the door of the airstream just as he heard Alex’s car arrive, and sat on one of the chairs, two bears in hand, while he made his way over. Alex sat on a chair next to him, accepting the beer, in silence.

“I heard you were busy while in your underground lair, judging by the gifts I’ve been seeing pop up.” Alex said with a smile, taking a sip of his beer, turning his head to look at Michael.

Michael frowned his eyebrows, “I thought you were busy out of town?” he asked, barely stopping the bite from escaping his lips. Alex looked sheepishly away from Michael at that, “I’ve been trying to not distance myself too much,” she shrugged, his tone lowering, until being a simple whisper at the end, “to not drive myself crazy.” He shivered at whatever thought was going through his mind, then straightened his body and looked up to Michael, “Anyway, you said you’d take me up on my offer, I’m assuming you want to talk?” he asked, forcing a smile that Michael didn’t buy.

“The hell is going on with you, Alex?” Michael asked, with a bit too much force that he immediately took back at Alex’s defeated look, “First you tell me you’d burn down the world for me, then that you don’t want me anywhere you or whatever, and then you end up finding Kyle in some creepy farm, which might I add is the exact same farm you got stabbed in .” He took a breath, and continued, “So yeah, Alex, I want to talk, I want you to tell me what’s going on with you.” He stopped at looked at Alex, who didn’t really seem like he wanted to say anything, so he lowered his voice, taking back all the bite and anger he could, channeling how much he cared and worried about Alex, “You said you were there for me, it’s a two way street you know. I’m here for you too.”

That seemed to do the trick, as Alex’s teary eyes met Michael’s, who wanted nothing more that to wipe his thumb across his cheeks, to take away the fear and the pain he could see in those eyes. But he didn’t, they weren't there yet.

Alex took a deep, shaky breath and told Michael everything, from quitting the Air Force (getting a discharge with full honors, Michael could tell the pride in his voice as the last ten years of Alex’s hadn’t been totally useless), to joining Deep Sky, to the Lockhart machine, to his boss not being who he said he was, to discovering that the Lockhart machine had driven people crazy, to the reason he had been recruited by deep sky. After his explanations, he fell quiet, looking at Michael, not truly knowing what to expect.

What he didn’t expect however, was for Michael to get up hastily, move the airstream and rush to his lair, leaving Alex sitting on his chair, a half empty bottle of beer in one hand, tears in his eyes. But Michael came back, just as fast as he had left, holding some piece of alien tech mixed with metal in his hands. It took a moment for Alex to register what that object was, and once he did, he widened his already teary eyes in surprise, his mouth was slightly agape, his eyebrows were frowned, as he searched for the words to express his confusion, not wanting to get his hopes high. On the other hand, there wasn’t a multitude of people Michael could’ve made an alien prosthetic leg for.

Michael approached slowly with the leg in his hands, handing it to Alex once he was close enough. “I uh- I made you this.” he said, clearing his throat, while Alex was examining the leg, “It’ uh, lighter than the one you have now, but it’s also more resistant and, well, you could really bludgeon someone with it, if uh - if you wanted to.”

Alex kept looking at the leg, not saying anything, which Michael interpreted as him not being interested. “You don’t have to take it, if you don’t like it. I also made you this,” he rushed out, taking a braided leather cuff with a piece of alien glass as a stamp and handing it sheepishly to Alex, who was looking at him, with the same teary look he had for the past few minutes. Michael took a deep breath and sat back down, “Look,” he breathed out, “what I’m trying to say, Alex, is I’ve got your back, okay? I’ll build you whatever you need, I’ll go wherever you want me to, I’ll - I care about you.”

As Alex opened his mouth to say something, Michael raised his hand to interrupt, and continued, “And I’m the son of a literal dictator whose powers I’ve inherited. I can defend myself. And I know that you wanna protect me - I do too - but maybe we could, I don’t know, protect each other by being there?”

Alex, whose tears were now running free on his face, bent down to take his right shoe off, under Michael’s curious gaze, who could also feel tears running down his cheeks. Alex raised his trousers and took off his prosthetic, before grabbing the alien one and putting it on. He knew the size would fit, knew that Michael had worked hard on it, had probably had the idea of making him a new leg from the moment they met again, in front of that same airstream, under completely different circumstances.

They had gone a long way from that day, and they still had some more to do, but Michael was right. Maybe this time, they could be there, together, to take that new road, to protect and take care of each other, together. Before standing up, Alex attached the bracelet Michael had made around his left wrist, admiring the colors of the alien glass under the desert sun.

Alex stayed at the junkyard for some more time, until his alarm rang, informing him that he should head back to the Lockhart machine. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Michael, asking him if he wanted to come with, and together they drove to the farm, down a road they had both taken together once, but this time Alex wasn’t bleeding out.

After that day, Alex still went to the VA in Albuquerque for meds prescriptions and physical therapy once in a while, but all the repairs that needed to be done for his prosthetic, all the improvements, were done by Michael, in his lair, under Alex’s curious gaze, who wanted to know everything about Michael’s ideas.

After all his gifts, Michael found that he still had some alien glass laying around in his bunker. So he decided to turn it all into little rings, wanting to distinguish as much as he could from the weaponizing of the alien glass, like Jones had. Eventually, all of little friend group, all of his people, owned a ring.

And when the day came, when the fight with Jones reached its last stretch, Michael was ready. He didn’t have an alien sword like Jones had, but he had something much more. A group of people, by his side, all sharing his strength through the little alien gifts. His people, his family.

Lately I've been feeling so alone Can someone give the antidote to me so I can Finally understand where I belong