#...and so I had to treat the stab wound myself without my best friend and get control of the ship again! you want some more eggs?'

[issybee06]

Because…

Part VI

Warnings: drinking, smoking, stab wounds, fighting, badly written fight scenes so sorry, blood, vomit, crying, children in adult situations, arranged marriages, Hiruzen being useless, Danzo hate, dysfunctional political figures, slow burn, Kakashi and his stunted emotions, canine traits Kakashi brain rot cause who doesn't want that? family issues, longer chapters, trying to make longer chapters, cousins fighting, bastard discrimination

Mamihlapinatapia

(n.) a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something they both desire but which neither wants to begin

………………………………………………………………………….

As children, the concept of a ‘crush’ was so innocent. It was a sweet thing, something adults gush over if they ever find out, something your friends teased you about as they try to push you in the direction of the person you fancied.

It was innocent. 

You’d make love notes, buy little treats or toys, and leave them on your crushes desk when they weren’t looking. Then you’d park over at them all day, hoping by some miracle the crush would instantly know you were the one to bring them the gift, even if you never signed it.

Kakashis desk was always littered with gifts or cards the one year he was at the academy. He was cool, and little girls would gather to watch him practice or spar. It could make one flustered, how good he was. It was was almost unnatural how amazing he was. No bloodlines, no special clan gift, just him.

As a child, I always wanted to talk to him. Our parents were friends, I wanted to be his friend too…but he looked right pass me.

I wasn’t the best student. I struggled at taijutsu, my fingers would get twisted if I tried to do a hand sign, and when I got scolded I would tear up. No one in the Capital yelled at me, I was a Princess, (Y/n)-Hime, but here I was just a regular kid. Titles, clans and such didn’t matter to children at that age. Sure, it made you look cool, but if you weren’t rising through the classes and being the best you soon got dumbed as a loser.

I wasn’t the worst student, Obito was levels behind everyone, Anko goofed off so much she got a bad reput but was smart when she applied herself, and Gai couldn’t even use Ninjutsu or Genjutsu, but it was humiliating because of who I was. What I was.

How could the granddaughter of Senju Tobirama, the man who created most of the Justus known, suck at being a shinobi?

I never wanted to be a Shinobi.

I was happy living in the capital and being doted on like a princess, learning how to sit and eat like a proper lady, wearing beautifully crafted kimonos and yukatas, and reading history books in the gardens without any fear of being attacked by an enemy.

I had felt betrayed when my mother left me in Konoha, leaving me to become something I wasn't. I wasn't like the children at the academy, I was years behind.

Kushina, my mother's distant cousin, saw me struggling and took me into her care. I had been living in the Senju mansion by myself the first year I came to Konoha, and after Kushina started tutoring me after my academy classes I began to stay at her apartment.

Little by little my stay at the mansion became less and less, and soon the room I had called my own held nothing of me…and I left the house.

Kushina said she saw herself in me, having also come from a different land and struggled in the academy. She had Mito-sama, and I had her.

………………………………………………………………………….

I stay under the shade of the tree, leaning against it as I watch the academy kids run around and play. My arms were crossed, and I frowned slightly as I watched the little blonde-haired boy sit by himself again. He sat on the swing, dragging his feet on the dirt as he pushed himself, toeing the ground. It was cold out, yet he was barely wearing anything. I frown more, leaning into the tree. Gotta remember to buy him a scarf…

“Youre not supposed to be here.”

I look over, eyes softening slightly, “Hokage-sama…”

He smiled, walking closer to me with his hands clasped behind his back, “if I remember correctly, you're supposed to be looking over the new genin files for your first students.”

I huff, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jacket. I frown as he speaks, slowly loosing motivation to listen.

“…I have other stuff to worry about, I can’t babysit preteens right now.”

“Oh? And that would be? Forgive me, Y/n-hime, I’m old and my memory seems to fail me.” He was teasing me, and I sigh as I push myself off the tree and follow him as we walk away from the academy.

“…I can’t take care of kids right now, I have my assignment to do. Kids will only push my deadline back more and cost more lives to be lost because I’m not working on an antidote.”

“You have an apprentice, yes?” He asks, and I huff. I roll my neck, my tired eyes looking over at him as he faces forward, “Setsuko is smart, but she can’t do it on her own.”

“Ito Setsuko, the laxative creator in the Chunin exams, yes?”

I snort, feeling a bit proud of the teen for being recognized, “yeah…she’s a good kid, but she’s not ready for such a big task, Hokage-sama-”

“Hiruzen. I raised you for a good amount of your life, your mother too, I think we’re familiar enough for you to not need to call me ‘Hokage-sama’.”

My expression softens slightly, taking him in. I knew he still felt bad for not being a better father figure to my mother, not helping her when she was denied as Senju clan head, not and he was trying to make up for it through me. It was sad.

“Hiruzen-Jii…Setsuko isn’t ready to do an assignment this important yet…I’m not ready to take on students…can’t even take care of my Senseis own kid. ” I spoke softly, kicking a rock as we continued to walk through the village. His expression droops, and I could hear him swallow slightly.

“…you know why you can’t take him in, Y/n-hime.”

“No, no I really don’t…explain it again for me?” I snip, and I instantly felt like a child again waiting for my mother to come home for the holidays only for her never to show.

He looks over at me, and my chest clenches at how old he really looked. The lines on his face didn’t suit him, made him look so much older than he actually was. The wars, the village, so many people either dying or leaving seemed to age him.

He sighs, “…having you take him in will draw too much attention on him…he must remain unknown to our enemies outside the village.”

“Yet him being alive gains him ones in the village…” I hiss quietly, and my hands clench in my pockets; balling so tight my nails pricked my skin.

“…I can’t control what the civilians think-”

“But you could help him out a bit!” I hiss, “do something so that he isn’t suffering!”

He frowns, “…if I could, I would.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes at him. Years ago, I would never dream of scoffing at the Hokage, but now I couldn’t seem to care.

“…he’s a child.”

“He is Minatos child, which makes him if discovered in danger.” he speaks in a hushed, but firm tone.

I clench my jaw slightly, holding my tongue. He was Kushinas son too, her baby, and someone I swore to protect. Back then I didn't fight back when the council refused to let me take him in, always ready to follow orders, but now I felt the need to take him home and care for him.

I could put a second bed in my room, get rid of my desk, and make do with working in the kitchen if I had to. Genma would complain at first, but he too cared about Naruto even if he never voiced it. I would buy parenting books, toys, and anything else the kid needed to get by. I'd care for him like Kushina cared for me…and the council knew that I'd do it.

Would they though? No, absolutely not. Bullshit reason after bullshit reason, nothing that actually gave me a real reason why I couldn't take care of the little boy.

“…if I took him in, no one would touch him. I'd make sure.” I spoke softly, not looking at the disapproving face he was giving me right now.

“Oh yes, because you're not in constant danger yourself for your bloodline?” he pressed sarcastically, and I rolled my eyes again.

“Something I have to live with, all clan heads have to live with, its not just me. Just two years ago the Hyuga heir was kidnapped and almost killed.”

“Yes, and we almost went to war again for it. Now imagine if it was Naruto, we could start a whole new shinobi wa-”

I glare at him, stopping in the street, “if I was watching him, there wouldn't be a chance!”

People were looking. Of course, they were, its not everyday the Hokage graces the streets on foot, but someone yelling at him? Especially the bastard heir of the Senju clan? This was shocking.

He stayed firm, and I could see by the little movement of his hand he was telling his Anbu to stand down.

Yeah, like I'd kill the Hokage. I snorted at the thought, and stood straight. He huffed at my nature, speaking lowly, “…remember your place, (Y/n).”

I shoot him a glare, and bow lowly, “…forgive me…Hokage-sama.”

I jump up, landing on the roof. Three Anbu were lurking there, and hand stances ready to strike. I saw the spiky stuffs of silver hair behind the familiar painted dog mask, and knew that her was glaring at me. Cursing me out in his head.

I huffed, rolling my eyes before stuffing my hands in the pockets of my oversize TI jacket.

“At ease,” I side eye them, walking along the roof with a click of my heals, heading back to the TI building to hide away in my cave.

………………………………………………………………………….

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

I don't raise my head from my work, the dropper steady in my hand.

“Knocking would be most appreciated.”

“I should knock sense into you! Threatening the Hokage, (Y/n)?! In public?! You are crossing too many lines?!”

I spin around, glaring at Kakashi from behind my safety goggles, “I want threatening him, I was speaking to him.”

He glared, both eyes on display. The red glow of the gifted eye seemed to drown him, fighting off the dim glow of the blue luminous poison in my dropper. Such opposites we had become.

“…i can't prote-…I cant spare you if it comes to the Hokage's safety, (Y/n).” he growled, and I raise my chin at him.

“I'm not a threat to the Hokage, Hatake-san. Now, if you'll excuse me…this is a private office.” I turn away from him, a stupid decision if he was actually trying to do me harm.

Quietly, almost unheard, was the sharp inhale from him. I never, never, had used his last name to address him, even when we weren't talking for years at a time. He was always Kakashi to me, never anything else.

He leaves after a beat, and the air is cool again. I sigh, pushing my work to the side to lay my head in my arms. Nothing was the same anymore, nothing made sense. Not that it ever did, nothing was sane or normal when you're a bastard of two highly regarded clans of two highly regarded villages.

Nothing made sense.

The chunin exams, Kushina said, were the biggest event for a young shinobi, bigger than becoming a Jonin. Jonin can be promoted at any time, chunin only gains their rank after proving him or herself to not only the Hokage but multiple other Kages and feudal lords.

Gai was practically buzzing after the first round, the written exam, and even more giddy after we got our of the Forest of death after running into team Minato. Now, he was off the wall bouncing for beating Obito in the 1v1.

I felt bad for Obito, Gai was known for kicking pretty hard and Obito seemed to have received full force. His jaw was bruised, goggles kicked off as he pathetically leaned on the railing with Kakashi and Rin. But I couldn't worry about him right now, not now when names of people were being called and the gnawing anxiety of my name not being called made my heart twist and constrict.

I jumped when a hand fell onto my shoulder, “ You’re doing it again.”

I stopped the assault on my nail beds, and looked over my shoulder at Genma. In two years of being on the same team, I had grown closest to him. He could read me like the easiest open book, understand me like a second language. He knew I was nervous…why I was nervous.

It was normal, even in war times, for Genin from other villages or nations to compete in the same Chunin exam. What made me so nervous was on the other side of the sparing platform was my cousins from Suna…cousins who didn’t quit care for me all that much.

“Calm down…it’s a 1 in 1 million chance you’ll have to fight one of them-”

“It’s still a chance.” I breath, my breath coming in short gasps as the names on the screen began to raffle. 1 in 1million, I tried to remind myself, but fait had hated me since birth.

“The next spar will be Senju Isuzu of Konoha, against Ryōichi Satoshi of Suna.” The proctor announced, and I felt my face turn green as my stomach churned uncontrollably.

Satoshi, my Aunt Hachis oldest son, hated me since my birth for dishonoring the Takamori clan name. Hatred most likely fed by my aunt, who disliked me just as much as my mother.

I walk down the balcony to the stairs, passing team Minato. Rin gave me a thumbs up, unknowing of what I was getting into. Obito winced at me, and Kakashi gave me the same uncaring look he always gave.

“Good luck, (Y/n)-chan! You’re gonna do great!” She spoke with her kind smile, and I couldn’t snap at her. She didn’t know, how could she know she was praising me just before my own death?

I gave her a little smile, and walked on.

Nearing the entrance, Satoshi was leaning on the wall, waiting for me.

“…jūkei.” I greeted softly, and he huffed. He stood off the wall, next to me as we walked in, “don’t go crying to your father after I beat you into the ground, Yaro.” He spoke lowly, his angry purple irises narrowed at me.

He walked ahead of me, getting in his stance. I walked to mine, my breath in short pants as my throat felt dry and full of water all at the same time.

“…Will you fight me as a bastard, or as a Takamori?” He asked, reaching into his back pocket. I swallowed when he pulled out a blindfold, one with the Takamori clan symbol on it. Even since my grandfather, Takamori Akifumi married the priestess Kazema Naoko, their descendants have practiced the Kazema clan fighting style of relying on your minds eye.

Cover the eyes, see from your third eye or something stupid like that. The Kazema is what made the Takamori clan different from other animal summoner clans, yet the Kazema clan is forgotten.

I swallow, following his lead. I bring down my headband over my eyes, and all goes black…until color. I couldn’t see him…I could feel him. His chakra, his smell, the sound of his heartbeat and the small shifts in his stance. Block out one sense, and the others are amplified. 

“And…BEGIN!”

He was running towards me, I could hear him and feel his angry Chakra nearing me. As he went to throw his punch, I dodged, and pulled out a kunai to stab his leg. He grabbed my wrist at the last second, kneeing me in the chin.

I groaned, jumping back. I felt blood in my mouth, my lip split from my teeth being forced to bite.

I could hear him snort, “damn…Konoha has taught you shit.”

I glare, pulling out another kunai. He pulled out his own, and lunged at me. I rolled on my back, and rabbit kicked him away from me before flipping up and meeting his kunai. I couldn’t see it, but I knew he was glaring at me. He pushed against my kunai, backing me up to the wall.

I pulling out another, and swung, but was met again with another kunai, “come on, (Y/n). Fight. Back!”

I step against the wall, and use my chakra to keep myself stuck to the wall before kicking his jaw and jumping back. He snarled, throwing a kunai at my head before following me up the wall. I dodged again, dropping low to sweep his leg but he saw it coming, up over me and landing, swinging his kunai at my exposed head aim to kill.

I grasped his wrist before he could deliver the finishing blow, and using one hand weaved the sign for Katon.

I felt his chakra spike in fear, and he quickly ripped his wrist away and jumped back to great a mud wall to block the fire ball.

I followed the smoke, jumping over the wall with my kunai at the ready in high in both hands above my head. He sees me and rolls away, causing me to plunge the kunai into the wall and embedding it. It would take too much time for me to pull it out, so I left it and pulling out another to attack.

He roared at me, sharp canines exposed as if ready to plunge into my throat as he swings a kunai at me. I block, and bare my own canines, I would not be intimidated and belittled by a spoiled little bitch.

He took an opportunity, punching me in the jaw. I stumbled back, and lost my footing and my chakra gave out in my feet. I gasped, falling back into the mud wall he made. I coughed, wind knocked out of me.

“This is child’s play, a joke! You, a Takamori and a Senju can’t even fight?!” I hear him crouch down, and his hands began weaving, “you dont deserve to live, Yaro, a disgrace. KAZE NO YAIBA!”

My eyes behind my head band widen, and I roll fast to stick back on the wall. He was going to fucking cut me in half, the psycho! I thought at I hear the rock split and the broken half fall and shatter on the sparring platform. I turn my head back to were his chakra was, standing up from my crouched position. It was no use yelling at him for almost killing me, he was trying to and I knew.

He ran towards me, dragging the Kaze no yaiba along the wall and splitting it. He wasn’t strong enough to control such a Justus, and I couldn’t believe my aunt or anyone else on my father’s side of the family would allow him to learn it so young.

We are 8…8 year olds trying to kill each other to appease our families and villages. I thought with a sickening feeling in my stomach as I jumped to dodge his swing of the wind sword. I land behind him, and run up the wall to create some distance.

I wince slightly, feeling pain in my side. I look down, seeing he managed to get a hit on me. I keep my hand on the wound, trying to ignore it.

I was going to run out of chakra if I continued this game of cat and mouse while using my chakra to stick to the wall. I was going to die. I slide, grabbing a hold of the kunai stuck in the wall and sound around to hold myself on it. If I could lessen how much time I spent using my chakra to stick to the wall, I could use it for bigger attacks.

I pull my water bottle out, and pop it open and chug it. To use a water jutsu, you needed a large body of water to hold the jutsu. I didn’t not, in fact, have a large body of water but I could make do with this.

But I had to keep him away first.

I gather my chakra, turning it to wwater in my mouth, then shaping it to a senbon. Tenkyū, I thought before shooting it at Ryōichi.

While he was distracted, I weaved the tiger hand sign as sweat began to drip down my brow. I was getting weaker, I had never fought someone so hard before while using the Takamori fighting style of being blind folded…or ever.

“Suiton: Teppōdama!” I yell out, and water shoots from my mouth.

I hear him yell out as he’s hit and pushed to the ground of the sparing platform. I continue to keep the spray on him, keeping him down.

The water dies down as my chakra fades, and I gasp for breath. I weakly stand, using chakra to slide down the wall. I shuffle towards him, and suck in a breath. I didn’t kill him, his chakra was still very much alive, but the fear that I had done permanent damage made me sick.

“…Since Ryōichi Satoshi is unable to continue, Senju (Y/-”

He kicked my leg, causing me to fall on my back before lunging on top of me. I fought back, kicking and punching my he grabbed my wrist, pinning it before stabbing and kunai through my palm.

I cried out, thrashing to get him off but it was no use as soon as his hands circled my neck. My eyes widen, and I claw at his hands with my free hand.

I could practically feel his smile, “this…this is what should happen, this is your fait!”

“NO!” I was not going to die.

With a hazy mind, I pull my last Kunai out, and with all my strength dug it into the skin of his cheek and dragged it up, cutting open his face and taking his eye.

He screamed, letting my neck go as he pushed away from me, howling like a mad animal. He was crying, begging, screaming as he rolling around on the floor in pain.

Shakily, I sat up, pulling the blooded headband away from my eyes. My face and chest were covered in his blood, and I look at him in terror as medical nin raced to get him out of the area.

The proctor grasped my hand, holding it up and I sat there paralyzed.

“Senju (Y/n) wins!”

I stood up, swaying a bit before hunching over, and throwing up. It was all pain, and I sobbed at the acid and at what I had done. I had taken his eye, I had scarred him for life, he would never recover because of me.

Kushinas gentle hands guided me away, holding me close to her as I cried and hiccuped. I was 8…and I wanted my childhood back. I wasn’t like my grandfather, i wasn’t like my father or my mother, I wasn’t like my Sensei, I wasn’t strong like them.

I didn’t want to be a shinobi.

I wasn’t Kakashi.

I felt a spike of Chakra, and I sat up. I turned to look towards the door, but no one else was in the room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I grasped the closest thing I could reach, a fucking pencil.

“…this is an S-rank lab…leave or suffer the consequences.” I spoke out, knowing someone was in the room.

All was quiet, still, but my guard never dropped. Suddenly a kunai is thrown at my head, and I dodge it only to have to dodge a second. From the wall emerged three shinobi, all wearing Rain ninja headbands.

“Rain…? Allied yourself to another killer?” I scoff, grabbing one of the kunai.

“Stupid woman needs to mind her own business, meddling in things she doesn’t understand.”

“Scientists are annoying, so troublesome to kill.”

The third doesn’t speak, his eyes narrowed as he pulls out his katana.

“All your data, we’ll be taking it.”

“I seriously doubt that…” I muttered, and blocked his swing with the kunai before pushing him back. I grab my note book, and stuff it in my pocket before kicking another guy as he lunged at me.

I raced to my door, and cursed to find it locked. I didn’t lock it, Kakashi must have that fuckin-

I gasp, my head being pulled back by my hair. Just before I was fully away from it, I slammed the alarm button, causing sirens to wale out and the room to be plunged in red light.

I straddle the guy who pulled me back, punching the shit out of him before being dragged back and thrown against the wall harshly. I snarl, digging my kunai in the man’s shoulder before kicking him in the stomach, and pulling the kunai out. I was not loosing this kunai.

The third guy with the katana, punched me, coming into my blind spot and grabbing my throat with one hand as the other searched for my note book. I lean in, straining against him choking me to bite his ear, ripping a piece off. He screams out, letting me go to give me the opening to head butting him and stab him in the throat.

I wipe my face of the blood, and hear yelling on the other side of the door.

“In here!” I yell, weakly, still a bit winded. I raise the kunai, I still had two more guys to either kill or subdue.

The guy on the floor was knocked out, I wasn’t worried about him, but the biggest of the bunch was still kicking.

“Fuck…”

He lunges at me, swinging his large fist. I jump back, sizing up my options. Larger opponents meant their balance was off more, if I could take out a leg…

He swings again, and I jump just in time to see my table being smashed along with all my shit…and the poison, that’s it!

It rolls towards me, by fait or unluckiness for this guy, and I grasped the bottle and throw it at his face. He yells out, and gets blinded by the poison eating his face away, but he’s still swinging. If I’m not careful, a drop could get on me, or his fist could hit me.

I needed to take him out, and I grab the kunai.

Two steps back, one step forward, one step back, step forward Strike!

I go for his side, stabbing him and jumping away fast, but he doesn’t go down.

“Shit!” What was taking them so long with the door?! Was it the lockdown system?! Can’t they just shut it down?!

I dodge another hit, and back against the door. I peak out the little window to see four ANBU, Genma, Ibiki and Inoichi. Kakashi…he was fucking livid it looked, barking orders that were muffled out by the door. His eyes caught mine before a fist shot out right next to my head, denting the door.

“Holy shit…”

“Found you, mouse.” His voice twisted from his whole face now down to the bone, i couldn’t believe he was still going!

Must be a side effect…gives the person tainted with the poison super human abilities to carry out mass destruction.

Oh, remember that pencil? Oh, it’s going into his head, no joke.

I rawr, plunging the pencil into his eye and using my palm to hit it to go deeper. I hiss as my hand gets the poison on his, and I begin to loose skin on my hand just in time for them to finally open the fucking door.

“FUCKING FINALLY!”

Genma races in, checking me over and holding me close, “are you okay?! Oh Kami I was so fucking scared.”

“Genmaaa, handddd!” I groan, and he curses when he sees my skin is fucking melting.

I lean on him, feeling feverish as the room fills with ANBU and company.

I meet kakashis ANBU mask again, and he watches Genma take me out of the room as his men get to work with dealing with my mess.

………………………………………………………………………….

I was lucky and antidote was made, to stop the rotting. My hand was still fucked, would be fucked for a while.

I was laying in a hospital bed, staring out the window boredly. The nurses wouldn’t allow me to work, telling me to rest, yet forgot that they are the one who prescribe me pills to make me sleep, my insomnia legendary. They, of course, can’t give me the pills while I’m hooked up apparently.

I sit up when Inoichi and Ibiki walk into the room, and I look towards both of them, “well?”

“I did a little digging into our friends mind, turns out Rain is not working with the people who created the poison…they wanted to use it for themselves, so no lead on the creator.” Inoichi spoke, and I huff.

“Go figures.”

Ibiki chuckled, walking over to ruffle my hair, “aye, look at you. ‘Not a field ninja’ my ass, you killed a guy with a pencil!”

“He was already dying.” I point out and he shushes me, chuckling giddily.

“To think, all these years I thought you were a prissy little prin-”

“Thank you Ibiki, you are dismissed.” Inoichi spoke, and sighed softly with Ibiki nodded and left the room.

Inoichi walked over to me, sitting on the edge of the bed, “…you feel fine?”

I lift my bandaged hand, flexing it.

“I’ll be fine…Hashiramas genes and shit…I heal fast.”

He chuckles, and drags his hand down his face with a sigh, “…you scared us today…that boy too.”

“Genma? He tends to get over-”

“Huh? No, no. The Hatake boy, he was going nuts trying to get that door opened that he eventually used his Chidori to break in.”

My eyes widen…Kakashi was going crazy…cause I was trapped inside the room?

“…really?”

“Yeah, never seen someone freak out so much. Funny.” He huffed again, smoothing his blonde hair back before standing. He placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze, “rest, I’ll take care of this. You did a good job.”

I smile softly up at him, and he walks out, closing the door softly behind him.

I settle back into my bed, closing my eyes. Kakashi was worried about me…

I turn over, and my eyes widen briefly.

On my windowsill was my note book, and a takeout bag from ichiraku. I stood up from the bed, and my cheeks warmed as I took the things off the sill.

“Kakashi…”

[lyndaris]

A Letter:

( more brainrot, don’t mind me. spoiler tag just in case. )

Dear Tanlorin,

I’ll admit, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time and I don’t think I could say this in person without getting emotional and making us both cry so… I’ll try to speak my mind through this letter.

I’m so grateful to have met you, Tanlorin. All my life I felt so alone, no matter how many people I met and can call “friend”. I’ve never had a partner, someone I knew had my back no matter what. My sister and I were inseparable but we clashed more than anything when we traveled together.

You and I have our differences when it comes to tough situations but we make it work. You help me stay levelheaded, think more clearly. When things get frustrating and I feel ready to stab someone… you calm me down. Keep me from getting a bounty too. I never had someone that understood my emotions, and I appreciate that you aren’t so quick to judge me when I lose my temper. You calm the storm in my heart. Just by being you.

For years I felt like I was struggling to keep my head above water. I wasn’t living, I was surviving. Until I met you. Now, I feel like I can breathe. Live. I’m not afraid anymore.

I’ve always considered the friends, companions I met as little stars in my dark world. A glimpse of light to help me not lose my way. Alchemy and Clever, they were more like a beacon. A lighthouse guiding me out of the dark back in Summerset… I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have them.

Tanlorin, you are more than just that. You are my sunshine. My world isn’t so dark and cold anymore, because of you.

Sometimes I think about what would’ve happened if we met sooner. If we met when I was in Summerset, when I lost Veya. How different I would be, how much better I would be. I think you would’ve stopped me from being consumed by my grief and anger… you would’ve saved me from myself.

I so badly wished I could have protected you from Wisteria’s betrayal. Wish I could’ve done something, seen the clues, anything… I am sorry I froze up when we had to face her. The truth is… she reminded me so much of Veya. All I could see and hear that moment we confronted her… was Veya. Wisteria sounded so much like her. I loved Veya, I really did. I wish she had talked to me. I wish she waited for me in Summerset. Maybe I could’ve changed her mind, maybe I could’ve stopped her… but... She abandoned me, our dream, and she broke me.

I don’t know Wisteria, not like you do. But, what I’m trying to say is… Wisteria made her choice. Veya made her choice. We loved them, and they betrayed us. We both have so many questions that are best left unanswered… and it’s a painful, deep emotional wound. One I wish I could take the pain away from.

I love you, I really do. You’ve taught me how to love again. Treating someone like an equal, a partner that always has your back, a friend…

You are the light of my life,

Alec.

[homosapiencenter]

Queer Slammers as Incorrect Quotes

Zack: You often use humor to deflect trauma

Ryker: Thank you

Zack: I didn't say that was a good thing

Ryker: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny

Rini: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming

Evan: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

Azrael: This is a mistake

Ryker, enthusiastically: A mistake we're going to laugh about one day!

Azrael: But not today

Ryker, still enthusiastic: Oh, no. Today's going to be a mess

Ryker: *Gets down on one knee*

Nightmare: Oh my satan, it's finally happening

Ryker: *Falls over*

Nightmare: The poison is kicking in

Rini: I was arrested for being too cool Francis: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence

Evan: Welcome, fellow idiots Zack: Hello, Evan Evan: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot Zack: You underestimate me

Evan: God, give me patience Ryker: I think you mean "give me strength" Evan: If God gave me strength, you'd be dead

Nightmare: *Accidentally hits Starlynn in the face* Nightmare: *Trying to decide between saying "I'm fucking sorry" and "Are you okay"* Nightmare: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?! Starlynn: WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!

Starlynn: Please, I'm begging you go to a doctor Ryker: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

Starlynn: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars Francis: If anyone, and I mean anyone, wakes me up at 3am to look at the damn sky they will be removed indefinitely from my life

Nightmare: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated Zack: Killed without hesitation Nightmare: No

Azrael: We want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives Starlynn: I wake up at 4:30am Nightmare: Nightmare: We want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives

Azrael: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how to use the blender Ryker, drinking toast: Why do you say that?

Ryker: A theif Francis: Thief? Ryker: Theif. Francis: I before E, except after C Ryker: Thceif Francis: No

Evan: If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back Nightmare: Of course, I can't flip this table myself

Francis, going over Nightmare's resume: Okay, so right here, it states that you’re creative Nightmare: Yes Francis: Okay... may I know what you create? Nightmare: Problems

Ryker: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you Nightmare: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Ryker: Absolutely not

Zack: Nightmare... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor? Nightmare: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned. Zack: Zack: I wrote sanitize, Nightmare.

Ryker: Top 30 reasons why Ryker is sorry... Number 5 will surprise you! Azrael: Top 30 anime deaths. Number One: YOUR FUCKING ASS RIGHT NOW!!!

Starlynn: Can you please be serious for five minutes? Rini: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

Azrael: Nightmare was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some Nightmare: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it. Starlynn: Nightmare, you ate a chair.

Ryker: .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- [translation: I’M SORRY] Evan: What's that? Ryker: Remorse code. Evan: I'm even angrier now.

Azrael: Ryker... Ryker: Oh no, 'Ryker' in b-flat. Ryker: You're disappointed.

Ryker: So are we flirting right now? Nightmare: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU Ryker: That doesn’t answer my question

Ryker: *Stubs their toe* FUCK! Starlynn: Mind your language! Ryker: What else am I supposed to say, “Woe is I”??? Starlynn: Ryker: You have to accept that swear words are necessary sometimes.

Ryker: What if the 'g' in 'gif' is silent Starlynn: Go the fuck to sleep Ryker: What gif I don't want to? Starlynn: Screw You

Ryker: What’s up guys? I’m back Nightmare: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die. Ryker: Death is a social construct

Nightmare: I would do anything for money. *later* Nightmare, covered in blood: THE STATEMENT STILL STANDS!

Starlynn, opening a Capri Sun: Guess I'll drink my sorrows away.

Starlynn, to the squad: And remember, if I get harsh with you it is only because you’re doing it all wrong.

Ryker: STOP! *Everyone stops* Ryker: wAiT a MiNuTe-

Evan: *Plays Slender: The Eight Pages* *Jumpscare* Evan: *Jumps back* OH SHIT, IT'S A WHITE GUY!!!

Zack: I'm so tired of this life. I want to be a roomba. I want knives taped to me. And I want to be set loose.

Francis: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities. Francis, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

Evan: New challenge! Don't say stupid shit for 24 hours!

Ryker, lying on the floor, depressed: I'll never be a cop. I'm gonna have to be a robber

Francis: Like, no offense to myself and all, but what the fuck am I actually doing?

Ryker: Yeah I'm LGBT. Ryker: cuLt leader. Ryker: God hates me personally. Ryker: cowBoy hat. Ryker: *sniffles* Trying my best.

Rini: I like wearing oversized sweaters. Not just because they're extremely comfy and cuddly, but because whenever the sleeves are really big, I get to flop them around and smack people.

Azrael: Isn't it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?

Nightmare: Maybe the real monster was the friends we both literally and figuratively murdered along the way.

Ryker: Woah dude, premarital handholding? That’s just not cool or groovy.

Azrael: I warned you. Azrael: I'm perfect.

Rini: You know the sound a fork makes in the garbage disposal? That's the sound that my brain makes all the time.

Azrael: I'm usually that person who has no idea what's going on.

Azrael: I'm a firm believer in "if you're going to fail, you might as well fail spectacularly."

Nightmare: My ultimate goal is to punch God in the eye, just to spite him one last time.

Zack: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?

Evan: I dunno if I'm ready to process the ramifications of this bullshit.

Nightmare: It's not like I try to blow things up, exactly. It just sort of happens. You've got to admit though, fire is fascinating.

Nightmare: I am literally evil incarnate. Nightmare: I’m not actually, I just enjoy being evil. Nightmare: Which I think actually makes it even more evil because I’m making a conscious effort.

Nightmare: I like to play this game called nap roulette. I take a nap and don’t set an alarm. Will it be 20 min or 4 hours? Nobody knows. It’s risky and I like it.

Evan: I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture. The Squad: Awwww- Evan: And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything." The Squad: Oh.

Zack: I have seen a lot of murders in my time, and all six of them were today.

Francis, working at McDonald's: Sorry sir, we don't serve a McFuck here, so either you throw that one slice of pickle out or we're gonna have a McProblem.

Evan: I’ve never smoked marijuana. I ate a brownie once at a party. It was intense. It was kind of indescribable. I felt like I was floating. Turns out there was no pot in the brownie. It was just an insanely good brownie.

Francis: Then either Sonic is a god or could kill god, and I do not care if there is a difference.

Evan: Now, the recipe calls for 2 shots of vodka. Evan: *upends the bottle*

Nightmare/Ryker: Am I a boy? Am I a girl? It doesn't matter. I'm going to burn your house down.

Nightmare: Raisins. It's nature's candy.

Starlynn: I love the term 'partners'. Are we dating? Are we robbing a bank? Are we the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies and are members of an elite squad known as the special victims unit? Who knows.

[pan-fangirl-345]

Books Bring People Together

Summary: A frustrated and stuck Kaminari comes to you for help, and it somehow blooms into something else along the way.

TW: I made Kaminari ADHD, so I'm sorry if there's anything wrong, I went off what my ADHD friends do and what a medical site told me. I myself am not ADHD, so again, I apologize if there's anything wrong with this. Small swears, and Mineta, which should be a warning in and of itself.

A/N: I have had this half-baked idea stuck in my head for months and I wanted it out, so I am giving you all this!

"Hey, um, (Y/L/N), can I ask you something?" Kaminari asked, sliding into the chair across from you at the common room table.

"Sure, what's up?" you asked, setting your pencil down on the paragraph you were reading.

"Um, this is kind of embarrassing," Kaminari admitted. "But, um, I'm having a really hard time with English right now, and I know that you're right behind Bakugou in grades."

"Where are you going with this Kaminari?" you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

You had heard things about Kaminari, and after meeting Mineta and knowing that Kaminari hung around with him, you didn't have the best impression of him. You had just been placed in Class 2-A, and so far you had mostly hung around with what the other students were calling the 'Dekusquad'.

"I need someone to tutor me," he admitted. "Normally English isn't all that hard for me, but Shakespeare is whack and I don't understand half of it."

"You want me," you started, "to tutor you. Why not ask Bakugou? Isn't he your friend?"

"Yeah, but . . . Bakugou has . . . harsh methods, and I need someone who won't treat me like an idiot," Kaminari confessed.

"Alright," you relented. "Why don't we get started now? Do you have anything going on?"

"No, this takes precedent," Kaminari said, rushing to grab his things.

"Alright, here's my question for you," you said when he propped his book open. "Why don't you understand?" You saw the look on his face change and you winced. "Sorry, sometimes I have a hard time controlling the tone of my voice. Let me rephrase that question." You paused for a moment, thinking of the right words before you said, "What about this don't you understand? What's the one thing about this that trips you up?"

"The formatting for one thing," Kaminari grumbled. "Why the hell is printed like that?"

You chuckled, brushing hair out of your face. You had thought the same thing the first time you had read Shakespeare.

"Alright, how about you just read, and then you can ask me any questions while I work on my own stuff, alright?"

"That sounds like it might work," he admitted.

"If that doesn't work, feel free to let me know," you told him. "This is about what helps you remember the material better."

"No, like I said, normally this is really easy for me," Kaminari said. "Let's try it."

"Alright, and remember, if you have any questions, I'm right here."

"Thanks (Y/L/N)," he mumbled.

"Of course, I wouldn't be much of a hero if I couldn't help people, right?" you mused, smiling at him.

"R-Right!" he chirped, grinning back at you.

You both worked in silence for a little bit before Kaminari leaned back in his chair, rubbing at him eyes.

"You okay?" you asked.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm ADHD, so sitting still and trying to read this is a little hard," he confessed. "And I might be dyslexic, I've never been tested but sometimes reading is hard for me."

You frowned, biting the inside of your lip, running the situation through your head.

"What if I read it to you?" you asked, looking up from your chemistry homework.

"How? It's a play," Kaminari said.

"I used to be in a drama club in middle school," you told him. "It's set up like a script, or if we don't have the energy to act it out, it's not hard to pretend that it's a regular story."

Kaminari stared at you for a moment before he nodded.

"Yeah, yeah I think that might work a little bit better than me staring at the same paragraph for fifteen minutes without actually reading anything."

"What part are you on?" you asked Kaminari, moving to glance over his shoulder at the page.

"Portia is trying to convince Brutus to tell her what's going on in her house. I think."

"Oh, I adore this part," you muttered, mostly to yourself. "Alright, what has you stuck?"

"This part. 'I grant I am a woman; but withal A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. Think you I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd and so husbanded? Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: I have made strong proof of my constancy, Giving myself a voluntary wound Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. And not my husband's secrets?' I don't entirely understand what she's saying."

Wow, English must've been his thing, he didn't mess up a single word, and he was able to read it fairly fluently, everything considered. It might have taken him a little longer than normal, but he had nailed it.

"Okay, so she's basically telling Brutus that she won't tell his secrets if he tells her what's going on, it doesn't matter if she's a woman or not."

"What was with the voluntary wound thing?"

"So, it depends. Sometimes, in plays, the women playing Portia will have a fake knife and stab themselves in the thigh, other times they pretend to slice themselves, depends on the director," you told him. "She basically cut herself on the thigh and said, 'If I can handle this I can handle whatever's going on inside your head.' Do you understand?"

"Yeah, but damn, this woman is a badass," Kaminari said, staring down at the pages."

"Right? Some people read that as psychotic, but it's Shakespeare," you told him, "everything in Shakespeare is psychotic to some extent."

"That's fair. Thank you for explaining that to me," he said.

"Of course, that is why you came to me," you replied, laying a hand on his shoulder for a moment before you moved back to your seat.

Kaminari, despite the things you had heard, was actually quite intelligent, it just took him a little longer to get the answer sometimes.

"Thank you so much for helping me," Kaminari murmured. "You were super helpful."

"Of course, I actually enjoyed helping you," you told him. "And if you need any more help, please, let me know."

"I will, thank you so much (Y/L/N)," Kaminari repeated.

"Have a good night Kaminari," you told him.

"You too!" he chirped before he headed up to his room.

You sat down at the table again, staring at the chemical formula in front of you.

So, if zinc only had one charge, positive two, and it was combined with thiosulfate, that meant that there shouldn't be the need for two of the zinc atoms, they would make the charge neutral.

You wrote the answer down, checking the textbook to make sure you were right. Polyatomic ions were a little more complicated than monoatomic ions.

There were only a few more questions, and then you could go to bed too, and you just hoped that there were no trick questions.

You were the last one in the common room, as usual, despite assuring Iida that you were right behind him when he went to bed an hour ago.

"Alright (Y/F/N), time for some good sleep," you muttered, shutting your book and gathering your supplies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been tutoring Kaminari for about six weeks, and he was definitely smarter than people gave him credit for. Sometimes he just needed a few minutes to think, or he needed something explained to him in a different way than everyone else.

Sero had been joining your little tutoring sessions too, and you had started doing them in Sero's room, since there were things Kaminari could mess with while he studied, and it was an environment where he didn't feel the need to prove himself.

"Hey, (Y/L/N), can you help me with this problem?" Sero asked, waving you over.

"Of course, what are we working on?" you inquired.

"Polyatomic ions, again," Sero said. "I need this extra credit."

"Alright, which one are you stuck on?"

"How do I figure out which Roman numeral goes here? Gold has multiple charges."

"You work backwards," you told him. "When you look at the formula, you need to figure out what charge dihydrogen phosphate has."

You gestured to the chemical formula.

"It has a negative one charge. Right?" Sero inquired, checking the list of common ions that the teacher had given them at the beginning of the unit.

"Right, and you have three of those ions, right?"

"Yeah, because there's a subscripted three outside the parentheses."

"So you have three of those, which means that those three together have a negative three charge."

"Right."

"So now you just have to figure out which gold variant has the right charge to cancel that one out."

"Well, there's only one gold atom, so it's gold three right?"

"Bingo, you got it."

"Oh, that makes it so much easier than what I was doing," he muttered, erasing the math he had been doing, writing down the way you had just shown him.

"(Y/L/N), can you come read through this essay for me?" Kaminari asked. "I think it's okay, but I need another eye on this."

"Sure, hand it over," you told him, taking the papers that he had handed to you.

You grabbed one of your signature blue pens and uncapped it, ready to mark anything you thought he could do better.

There wasn't as much as you were expecting. While Kaminari had a hard time interpreting things, once he understood, he was golden. He had a way with words, you noticed as you scanned through the paper he needed to hand in next class. You assumed that it gave him time to think about the right phrasing of things.

Other than a few grammatical and spelling errors, the paper was well written, and there was nothing major that needed fixing.

"Good job Kami, this is really good," you told him, ruffling his hair lightly.

He responded well to physical affection and praise, you had also noticed, and he made it easy.

Once you got past the typical shield he threw up, he was a nice guy with insecurities, just like everyone else.

He chuckled, leaning into your hand.

You noticed that the others didn't touch Kaminari as much as you did, despite having known him for much longer. They were worried about getting shocked, Sero had told you.

"Why though? He's never shocked me," you had told him.

"He can't control it sometimes, it builds up in his body and it needs an out."

"Well, that still no reason to stop touching him," you had mused. "If he shocks me he shocks me, it's really no big deal."

Kaminari had only shocked you once, during a thunderstorm when there had been a lot of lightning outside. He had gotten excited about getting a 90 on one of his tests, and had hugged you, giving you a slight shock.

He had apologized profusely, but you had waved his apologies off.

"It's okay Kaminari," you told him. "It happens to all of us sometimes."

You were finding yourself thinking about him more than you should've. You had become good friends with both him and Sero, and the other students had started coming to you when they had a question, but Kaminari was a little different.

It had started out with the flirty comments, but slowly those had turned into real compliments. He had been keeping Mineta away from you more and more, and he had even started laying off the perving with the grape rat.

He was a good guy, he really was, despite the playboy attitude. He was sweet, and he was just like every other person in the world.

"Thanks for tutoring us both," Kaminari said as the session was coming to a close.

"Yeah, you're really saving our asses," Sero agreed.

"Of course, come to me any time," you told them both, smiling as you made to head back to your own room.

"Hey, um, (Y/L/N), can I ask you something?" Kaminari asked.

"Sure. You know how much I love questions," you teased, smiling at him. Then you noticed his expression. "Kami?"

"Will . . . will you-" he chuckled awkwardly, messing with the seam of his pant leg. "Can you read something to me?"

"Yeah, of course," you said. "What is it?"

He handed you the book, and you smiled.

"My dad used to read this to me when I was little. I think that's why I love books so much," you admitted. "That was before . . . well, it doesn't matter now. Come on, we can head down to the common room if you want. Or your room, it doesn't really matter to me."

You had visited Kaminari's room on more than one occasion to return things to him, he tended to be a little forgetful, and he had often left things with you.

Despite the fact that everything you had learned about society told you that you should avoid being alone in a room with a boy, you trusted Kaminari enough to be alone in a room with him.

"I really like to read too," he confessed. "But sometimes my brain doesn't like to let me do it."

"I understand, it's okay," you told him, touching his arm lightly. "Are you sure that you'll be able to sit still long enough for me to get through any of it?"

Kaminari, after spending so much time with you over the last few weeks, had figured out how your voice worked, and he rarely got offended by your tone of voice anymore, which you were thankful for.

"Yeah, I like the sound of your voice, it helps calm me down. I think I might pay attention more if you read it to me."

"Alright, sure, let's go," you said, holding the book to your chest.

You knew this book like the back of your hand, and you had a feeling that Kaminari was telling the truth when he said he would be able to pay attention.

Kaminari followed you into the common room of the dorms, trailing just slightly behind, but he was in front of you the moment Mineta tried to get to you.

It amazed you how fast he could move sometimes, when he really wanted to.

"Get lost Mineta," you said. "I have nothing to say to you."

Mineta opened his mouth but a raised brow from Kaminari had him shutting it and heading to his own room so he could think his pervy thoughts in peace.

"I can't believe I was ever friends with that perv," Kaminari whispered. "I think I owe a lot of the girls apologies."

Kaminari glanced over his shoulder, and you smiled at him, linking your hands together.

You were proud of him, he had really grown lately, and you were glad that he was seeing how uncomfortable he had made the girls.

"I'm proud of you," you told him, and he beamed.

He responded well to praise, and being told that he had done a good job.

"Come on, we'll have to go to bed soon if we don't want Iida to lecture us again," you said, sitting down on one of the couches.

Kaminari sat down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder as your propped the book open.

You didn't mind the fact that Kaminari was a little clingy, the contact was nice, and he always radiated warmth, though whether that was his normal body temperature or he ran hot because of his quirk, you didn't know.

You started the book off, barely having to look at the words as you read, changing your voice as necessary, stopping every once in a while to explain a word to Kaminari that he didn't understand, or to answer a question that he had.

It was nice, spending time with him like this, simply because he wanted to, not because he was going to fail a subject.

Somehow he had ended up with his head on your thighs, and you had one hand buried in his hair, brushing it away from his face, your fingers carding through it softly.

He was making a content noise in the back of his throat, and you smiled down at him, finishing up a chapter.

"Do you want to go to bed?" you asked softly, not wanting to disturb him too much, he had enough trouble sleeping as it was.

He hummed softly, leaning into your hands, and you smiled down at him softly.

You had never been one for crushes, they had seemed pointless, and there had never been a person who had caught your attention like this.

You had thought about it, of course, what it would be like to be in a relationship, but you had never thought that you would have to worry about it.

Well now you were worrying about it.

That nameless, faceless person that had been with you in those daydreams was starting to look frighteningly like Kaminari.

You had panicked when it had first started happening, until you realized that it would probably fade. You had had a friend in middle school who had a new crush every week, and you had assumed that it would fade with time.

It hadn't. That uneasiness that had popped up around him slowly melted into a nice warmth whenever he was close. You had started to stop worrying about whether he would like this, or hate that, and had started to show your true colors.

He had seemed to like you even more when you had started doing that, and you were glad.

But the only bad thing was that now you were noticing other things. His hands lingered a little longer than necessary when he helped you during training, his smile always seemed brighter when you made him laugh. His eyes always seemed to follow you around the common room, and he sometimes appeared at your side when you walked in.

You weren't sure if you just overthinking things or if he might like you back.

But this wasn't a simple crush anymore. You weren't sure what it was. It was a little too early to be love (even though it was just a rush of chemicals in the brain meant for human survival), but it was way past a simple crush.

Was there another step between a crush and love? Was this going to end with your heart breaking? Was there even a chance that he might like you back?

These were things that you kept in the back of your mind until you were alone in your room. Worrying about them in his presence made him worry about you, and you didn't want him to worry about you if he didn't need to.

"Kami, seriously, you need to go to bed."

"If I do, so do you," he told you, making you chuckle.

"I'll go to bed if you will. You are in my lap after all," you teased, pulling your hands away.

"That's fair," he murmured, stifling a yawn.

"Go to bed Kami," you whispered, standing up as soon as your legs were free.

They had fallen asleep a while ago, but you hadn't had the heart to move him.

"Alright," he mumbled, stumbling towards his dorm room.

You smiled softly, heading for yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't sure what woke you up hours later. Maybe it was the three glasses of water you had drank before bed, or maybe it was the fact that your brain hated you almost as much as Kaminari's hated him.

You stretched, pulling a hoodie on over the tank top and shorts that you had gone to bed in, heading for the common room.

You weren't going back to bed any time soon, so you might as well get some studying done with a nice cup of tea or something.

You were almost surprised to see Kaminari sitting at the common room table with his books out.

"Denki? What are you doing?" you mumbled, wandering over.

"(Y/L/N)? What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you murmured, plopping into the seat next to him.

"Couldn't sleep, my brain went into overdrive the minute I tried to fall asleep."

"I at least got a good four or five hours in," you replied. "But it's Friday night, I should be sleeping in."

"What woke you up?" he asked, laying a hand on your thigh.

Kaminari, you had noticed, liked having his hands on you.

Not in the perverted way you had expected though. He liked having a hand on your thigh or on the small of your back. He liked an arm around your shoulders or his arm linked with yours when you all took class outings. He liked being close to you.

"No idea. It might've been a nightmare," you admitted. "I remember faint flashes, but it might've been something else."

"Are you going to be able to go back to bed?"

"Nah, I'll be up for a good while," you told him, leaning into his shoulder.

"Anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"Can you just . . . talk to me?" you inquired. "I like listening to you talk about things. Calms me down."

"What do you want to know about?"

"Anything. Everything. You."

"Did you know that I have a cat named Marshmellow?"

"What? No," you said, perking up a little bit. You had always been an animal person.

"Yeah. He's the spawn of the devil, but I didn't know that when I named him. All white, pretty blue eyes. Pure fucking evil," Kaminari told you, taking his phone out to show you a photo.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, he absolutely despises me," Kaminari said, handing his phone over to you. "Loves my sister though, so he isn't a complete psychopath."

"He's a cat, can animals even be psychopaths?" you asked, moving your seat closer to his.

"No idea, but it wouldn't surprise me if he is," Kaminari said, chuckling.

"You're right, he is pretty," you murmured, flipping through the photos quickly.

Kaminari hummed, but when you glanced up he was looking at you.

He had that look on his face, the look that he sometimes got when he looked at you. It was one of the reasons you wondered if he liked you or not. He looked like he was in pain when gave you that look.

"Denki?" you inquired softly.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you looking at me like that? Like you're in pain? Like you're hurt?" you asked.

You didn't like the way your voice sounded. That little hint of insecurity snuck in, your voice had that clogged sound it got when you tried not to cry.

You weren't sure whether you could handle his response to that, but you needed to know if being around you caused him pain. You needed to know if there was any chance that he hated being in your presence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Kaminari's POV)

Pain, huh?

Yeah, this was definitely pain, seeing her like this, swaddled in a hoodie he had left in her room accidently a week ago, covering her shorts, making her legs look a mile long.

He had tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the feeling in his chest every time he looked at her, tried to ignore the blatant male pride that came with seeing her draped in his hoodie, but he was only human after all.

Denki, after spending so much time with a girl that didn't tend to pull her punches, he knew how uncomfortable he had made the girls with all of his comments. He now knew how it made them feel when he said some of the things he had.

Denki never wanted her or any of the other girls to feel like that again, and he wanted to ignore some of the things that were running through his head, but she was making it hard when she looked at him like that, when she said his name the way that she just had.

"Denks?" she asked softly, moving to get a better look at his face.

Denki had never had a crush, not a real one anyway. He had had his eyes on Jirou first year, but that had been fleeting.

He was flirty, it was just his nature, but this feeling whenever he looked at her . . . that was completely new on him.

"Denki, are you okay?" she asked, putting her hands on his face lightly, making him look at her.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Denki asked, placing his hands over hers. "I wasn't sure whether you felt the same way and I didn't want to mess anything up."

"Denki? What are you saying?" she asked, eyes bright with hope as she looked at him, running her thumb over his cheek softly, almost absentmindedly.

"I like you, (Y/F/N), I like you a lot, and this isn't some . . . three A.M. spur of the moment confession, but . . . it kind of is. The point is that you're smart, and all kinds of gorgeous, and there's so many things about you I wish I could list, but words aren't my thing, and I know that I'm rambling, but I really can't stop 'cause I'm terrified of what your response is gonna be and I don't want to fuck anything up and-"

"Denki," she cut in, smiling at him the way she did when she was fondly exasperated with him. "You have nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. I like you too."

"Why?"

Even Denki was surprised by the amount of confusion in his own voice.

"Because you're a dork," she stated. "Because you're smart, even if people don't always see it right away. Because you want to be a hero, because you like to make a difference. Because in the end, you're a good guy, when you get past the playboy attitude and shitty pickup lines. Because you're cute and all kinds of soft. Because apparently I have a thing for hyperactive morons with screwed up hair."

"Rude," he muttered, but she smiled at him even wider, and he knew that it was worth it.

"Am I wrong?" she asked softly, swinging her legs around to get closer to him.

"No, but that doesn't mean that I'm happy about it," he mumbled, pouting slightly.

She gave a small giggle, something that rarely happened, and Denki smiled, wide and unburdened.

"So, what do you say about going on a date?" he asked, tucking her hair behind her ear to get a better look at his face.

"I think that's the smartest thing you've ever said to me," she teased.

Denki pouted again and she touched his nose lightly, making it crinkle in response.

"That wasn't a no," she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck softly.

"You know, this looks good on you," he whispered, touching the hem of the hoodie carefully. "And it looks very familiar."

"It does?" She pulled away to look down at it and her eyes went wide. "I didn't even know it was yours. I just threw it on on my way down here. When did you even . . . .?"

"I left in there like a week ago," Denki informed her. "I thought you had just kept it."

"I didn't know it was in there," she admitted. "But I'm not sorry that I'm in it, it's very comfortable."

"We can share custody," he murmured.

"We'll have to," she agreed. "I don't think I can deal with never wearing this again. You actually have good taste in hoodies."

"Why are you so surprised by this?" he asked.

"Because most of the time your style seems all over the place," she replied. "But that's not a bad thing. It makes you unique."

"Normal is overrated."

"A normal sleep schedule is not," she said, standing up. She grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. "Come on, we can chill in my room if you want to."

"You aren't nervous about having me in there?" Denki asked.

"No, because I know that if you try anything I can knock you on your ass. I also trust you," she told him, linking their fingers together softly. "Is this okay?"

"More than okay," he breathed, stepping close enough to brush their shoulders together.

He could get used to this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Your POV)

It was a rare day when you and Denki got a day off together. Being heroes was tiring, and schedules were always weird, so when you both got a day off together, you always spent them together.

"You're up early," Denki murmured, slipping in behind you from where you were sitting on the window seat of your apartment.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck.

"The baby woke me up," you said.

Said baby padded into the roof, tail high in the air, a smug look on that cute furry face as he jumped up onto the seat, curling up in your lap.

"Marshmellow, don't lay on my book," you muttered, pulling the book out.

"Told you, he's fuckin' evil," Denki murmured, kissing your shoulder lightly.

His shirt was slipping off your shoulder, and Denki treated uncovered skin like a target, regardless.

"How long have you been up?" he asked.

"Only an hour or two, and you looked so peaceful, I felt bad waking you up. I know that you've been getting more action than I have these last few weeks," you murmured, taking one of his hands, kissing his palms softly, leaning back into his warmth.

"I love you," Denki hummed.

"I love you too Denks," you told him.

"Read to me?" he requested, and you smiled.

"Always," you replied, finding your spot in your book again.

[triple-a-daybreak]

ok idk if anyone is gonna see this addition but re: middle school rui because i LIED when i said i wasn't gonna get into why it made me sad

it's like. a slight reprieve in what is a story that had me ugly crying but i really am thinking about just how short his time was. like he barely talked other than being like "hearing a nice to meet you from myself is weird lol" and what basically amounts to "¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯". and idk maybe i'm overthinking this but something about that made me sad

i think it reminds me of how his middle school self seemed completely disinterest in engaging with people on a personal level, save for mizuki ofc because they were both outcasts. he still wanted to delight audiences! he just wanted to do it alone. see also: nene asking him "hey i'm part of a troupe do you. wanna be in it" and rui being like "nope. it's for the best that i'm alone :) gotta blast" [It's On! Wonder Halloween Ch. 6] and him primarily "liking the view" and watching people without engaging during school festivals because he felt he couldn't [KAMIYAMA HIGH FESTIVAL! Ch. 6]

it kind of makes me think that at that point he not only accepted his loneliness as an important part of himself, but kinda...as all he was? and all he'd ever be?? like, of course he was alone. that's how he's supposed to be. he can't forget that loneliness because he, too, embodies it—but he sat with it and accepted it in a way that isolates him further and looped back around to "welp. guess this is just how it is. no point in trying now ig"

like of course he wouldn't have beef with kid rui, who was just starting to understand what he was dealing with—not just people not understanding him, but people actually thinking he was dangerous and endangering people for fun [Revival my dream Ch. 5] and therefore not just disliking but being afraid of him. it's adjacent to being treated like a monster, and that's deeply upsetting to anyone but especially an Actual Literal Child. again, no wonder he makes the active decision not to engage with people in middle school and presumably the beginning of high school (hey if Rui5 wants to give us lore on before Rui transferred... 👀).

but i think that also kind of explains why he's kind of "eh" towards the whole thing. like, yeah, it's the "i'm just gonna watch this because it seems kinda interesting" but i think it's also the lack of desire to directly engage, even with a version of him that's experiencing a future he never thought he could. i found it odd that their interaction was brief beyond "this is kinda neat :)" "yeah :)" but like. of course it was. that's just. how he is at that time. rather than rui's newfound occasional engagement, middle school rui...just doesn't. and i like that rui never tries to push him into it.

like ok if i had to tl;dr this. it's kind of like. a stab wound except i don't know how stab wounds work bc i've never been stabbed but just stick with me for the metaphor ok i don't have to

childhood rui: freshly stabbed (a lot of acute pain, wondering why high school rui seems to be in far less pain)

high school rui: has a healed wound that's left a scar (still caused pain and permanent damage; never fully forgot it but is still healing from it thanks to his friends)

middle school rui: has had a knife in his gut for so long that he got used to the pain and when people asked (which......oog bc most didn't) he was like "oh this? nah this is nothing i'm used to it" (technically it still hurts and it's still, you know, an unhealed wound, but it's one that he's accepted as permanent and thinks just. Doesn't Hurt)

for childhood rui, seeing a version of him that's healed from the wound and is seemingly acting like it never hurts anymore is like. wow ok. so you just forgot i was stabbed. fuck you i guess. and then we all know what happens. freaky friday, "this fragment sekai is my loneliness", rui having found a really precious treasure me sobbing on the floor, etc.

but for middle school rui, watching a version of him that's been freshly hurt and is realizing for the first time he is how alone he is and a version of him that still has remnants of that wound but is still visibly healing from it—making new friends, trying to engage with school festivals [insert Mizu5 story link here], and performing with others instead of alone and finding that he's happy about it and has made precious friends (do you want me to link every WxS story here lol)—is something that's intersting, but he's still kind of in this in-between where...he's disconnected from both. idk.

it kind of hurts but it makes a lot of sense to me. definitely overthinking it but character analysis is fun :)

anyway sorry this is so long i definitely have no feelings about rui kamishiro whatsoever based on the fact that i wrote several paragraphs about his bloomfes card story being fantastic and about his middle school self's, like, two total lines being lowkey sad actually. i feel Nothing for him, clearly. i do not think about him constantly. don't look at my profile picture stop that.

(jokes aside i love him he's just. he's great)

anyway i'm gonna add a link to this rb in the first post so that if people find it through the tags that they can also find this one bc this is a bulletin board with red string between the event (and also main lowkey) stories and i am rambling about it

me at the start of rui's bloomfes side story: oh these are kinda continuations of the colorfes stories to an extent :) that's cool i like that they're connected and that the colorfes stories are being referenced again :) i'm gonna watch rui's bc his bloomfes card is my favorite so far :)

me after rui's bloomfes side story: if all of these are gonna be inner child work then what if i uh. what if i uhhhh. explode

honestly rui being like "wonderlands x showtime is my miracle because of the loneliness we (as in him and his younger selves) experienced and i have never forgotten you"???? i'm not even gonna get into how that makes me feel don't even look at me

also all of the photos from childhood and middle school being cracked is like. a little too relatable for me but in a way that i don't really want to talk about in the project sekai and rui kamishiro tags

also shoutout to rui's middle school self being like "yeah i'm here too. i don't really feel one way or another i just thought this would be interesting to watch tbh" and rui being like "he's just like me fr" because when he's not actively helping he is, in fact, just observing and seeing how things unfold as someone solves their problem by themselves. I didn't even make that connection when i first read it i just really liked that part. in retrospect though middle school rui's apparent disinterest and disconnect from what's going on between young rui and hs rui. kind of hurts in its own way. BUT LET'S NOT WORRY ABOUT THAT

like god damn i just thought the card was pretty because the trained is like. look at this.

probably genuinely my favorite card of his.

but now with the extra context that untrained hits like ten times harder

also looking at the background pictures is. ough. and the fact that he's looking at the group photo from pandemonium AAAAGGHHH DON'T EVEN TALK TO ME

i know this came out like two months ago now let me live i was still getting over the salt of getting bloomfes rin twice instead of bloomfes rui and just barely not being able to spark for him and THEN forgetting to buy the lim gacha sticker vouchers before the exchange period ended okay leave me alone (/silly)

[thedemonstherapist]

Tension Solution

Summary: “I think this tension between us needs resolving. Be that with swords against each other’s necks or in my bed. You decide”. 

Wordcount: ~4,2K

Pairing: Kaeya Alberich x GN! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Enemies to Lovers, Sexual innuendos, Small mentions of blood

Author’s Note: Here it is! My Kaeya enemies to fuckers piece. A huge thank you to @gnocchi-ghoul​ for Beta reading this for me! I had such fun writing this, and you all know I’m a sucker for some good tensioned sworfighting, and this smug bastard has been on my mind ever since starting to play the game. I know this is not my usual content, but I write when I want, about who I want, ok? I’ve had so little inspiration over the past months that I’ve got to take chances like these and go with them.

Banner is not mine! If you know who to credit it to, let me know, I couldn’t find it!

There he came again. That stupid coin between his fingers, flung into the air at random intervals. That stupid grin softening his face, cheerful greetings echoing through the noisy hall. Oh, and above all, that tremendously stupid way his eyes find you immediately, just trying to do your work.

You lower your gaze, pressing your pen down onto paper with renewed determination. Jean and her new open doors policy be damned, you couldn’t wait to slam it in his face. Of course it’s the last few minutes of visiting hours that he decides to come back from his commission. Three blissful weeks of calm while he was stationed out near the Liyue border, no comments, no irksome remarks, no-

“Don’t tell me you’re too busy to greet me”. 

You sigh. Kaeya observes you with his arms crossed, casually lent against the doorframe. His sword is still strapped to his back, droplets of water running down the blade, and he clearly hasn’t gone to take a shower yet, covered in dirt, mud and sporadic dried blood. 

“Captain”. You can’t help your displeasured tone. “I see you’re back”. 

“Inspector”. He raises a brow in retaliation. “I sent a notice stating my return three days ago”. 

“Oh, that”. You pick the unintelligible letter from your desk with two fingers, holding it at an arm’s length. “Apparently your messenger didn't go for a swim on the way here. Could you confirm?”

His jaw tightens momentarily, as you note with satisfaction, but it doesn’t deter the grin. “You should be used to my handwriting by now”. 

You place it back on your desk with contempt. “I am not. Hopefully your report to Jean is a little more… readable”. 

He shrugs, beginning to peel off his gloves. “She’s never complained about it”. 

Taking a deep breath, you try to calm yourself down. Kaeya tends to make you irrationally angry, and no, it wasn’t just the absolute nonchalante recklessness he treated his position and commissions with. You couldn’t count the times he’d risked more than his own life in battle, somehow always managing to pull it off in the last second. And of course, that was his surefire way to getting out of trouble, no matter how much Jean grilled him for it afterwards.

“Go clean up”. You try your best to make your dismissal abundant, leaning back over your work. “You’re dripping water on my carpet”. 

“Oh, we’re touchy today, aren’t we?” Kaeya’s grin widens into a smirk, pushing himself off the frame. “Did Fawks hit on you during your patrols again?” 

“That’s none of your business”. You shoot him a glare, tapping your nails impatiently. As if you still had the opportunity to go out on patrols, you’d been holed up in your office pretty much ever since becoming Inspector. You wished you could get out again, your body had been aching for some action for weeks, but he was the last person you’d ever confess that to.

Kaeya hums lightly, and instead of exiting, takes another step into the office. His eyes wandered your shelves with staged disinterest, but you knew he was looking for something to use as ammunition.

“I’m assuming you couldn’t hear me” you state, sarcasm adding a bite to your tone. “I told you to clean up. You look like you haven’t seen soap since leaving Mondstadt”. 

“Oh, Y/N, always so worried about my appearance” he muses, drawing closer to your desk. God, you hated that stupid cat-like expression he bore, so sly and pretentious. “I’d be more worried about yourself, frankly”. 

“I’m not playing these games, Kaeya”, you reply sharply, fingers tightening around your pen. “Go take a damn shower, and stop ruining my carpet. I don’t know why your immediate goal seems to piss me off, but I’d like to maintain some level of professional dignity between us”. 

He rolls his eyes. “By Barbatos, you really are wound up today. I doubt that’s just my fault”. 

“Be delusional, then”. You shake your head. “I don’t think Jean would appreciate another formal complaint, so do her the favour, if not for me, and get out of my office”. 

“Fine”. He turns around, but not before throwing you another glance, and damn it, you know he has one last trick up his sleeve, just by the way he says it. “However, before I forget-”. 

“What?”

“You’re pre-reading my report for Jean. Her orders”. 

---

“... and that bastard didn't even take the time to brief me about the mission outcome, the entire time he was dirtying up my office!” You end your rant with an angry flourish, slamming your hand down on the table. “I don’t know what he intended with that whole interaction, he just likes making my day so much worse!” 

Your friend chuckles, stirring her drink idly, an ocean of calm in comparison to your raging fury. “Man, if we weren’t close, I would never guess Kaeya to be such a pain in the ass. Each time I’ve encountered him he’s been so chivalrous and kind”. 

“He just can’t keep it in his pants”. You cross your arms, sitting back in your chair with a huff. “If you ever end up in his bed, I will personally hunt him down”. 

She laughs. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t put you in that position”. 

“I just don’t understand it”. You run a hand through your hair, glancing around the tavern. It was unusually crowded for a Thursday night, you’d been lucky to get your usual table. “Why he has this stupid grudge against me. We used to be normal colleagues, back when we were both only trainee’s and officers, but then one day the switch flipped and it’s like we can’t stand the sight of each other ever since. The worst thing is, he has every last person in Mondstadt wrapped around his finger! So nobody understands my frustration!”

“First of all, Diluc exists. Second of all, aren’t you higher ranking than him?” she asks, and you regretfully shake your head. 

“No, Captains and Inspectors are on the same level. I personally didn't feel ready to be a leader in combat situations, so I passed on the opportunity. Now I miss active commissions so much, my poor sword is nothing more than an ancient relic at this point”. 

“Surely, you’ll still be sent out?” 

“I don’t have a command, the only times I might be are on extraordinarily dangerous or sizable sightings, or for assistance to Captains. Rue the day I get sent out with Kaeya”. You shudder at the thought. “That would end in total disaster”. 

“So you really have no idea why Kaeya began to dislike you so suddenly?” your friend inquires, tilting her head aside. You shake yours. “And there wasn’t some kind of incident that caused this?” 

“Not that I know of”.

A grin spreads over her face. “Hey, you ever considered that he likes you a little too much for his own good?” 

“That’s some misogynistic bullshit”, you snort. “Guys are rude to people because they like them, yeah right. That’s just trying to normalise shitty behaviour in the name of quote-on-quote love”. 

“I know that”. She gives you an exasperated look. “But… you have to admit that the two of you have some serious chemistry”. 

“What are you even talking about?” you question, downing the rest of your drink. 

“Every time you two interact”. She raises a brow knowingly. “Remember that time you were bickering on patrol through Mondstadt? I swear, even without a vision, I could see sparks between the two of you, and I wasn’t the only one, you got the entire town talking. You get on each other’s nerves because you have some unresolved tension you need to work out, and neither of you wants to admit it”. 

“Shut up”. Your cheeks suddenly feel suspiciously warm, and you firmly decide it’s the alcohol. “Fine, Kaeya’s attractive, but he’s so fucking annoying because he knows that. He messes with me ‘cause he knows how to get in my head, and gets some kind of sadistic pleasure from it”. 

Your friend makes an attempt to interrupt you, but you don’t let her, motioning to her to let you rant. “Let me finish. He was nice enough up until he got that damn ego boost after being promoted, I think, and even then I could still talk to him without the need to stab myself in the eye. He’s just so frustrating, never thinks twice about anything he does, and always gets away with it, plus he has this weird urge to always show off that stupidly toned chest of his and - by the Seven, I hate that idiot smirk of his, and the fact that he’s so damn perfect at his swordsmanship, I can’t even deny how good he is in battle, Jean has said he rivals her, and I despise that he knows he looks good while doing it, he-”

“So, how much longer were you going to let them just talk?” A voice offhandedly asks from behind you, and the blood in your veins turns to ice. Your friend smiles lazily, winking at you. 

“Oh, you know, however long they need. Y/N’s been ranting quite a bit this evening, you really get on their nerves”. 

You whip around, and sure enough, there he is, the cause of this mess. Kaeya has his arms folded, grinning down at you with thinly veiled satisfaction. You’re pretty sure half of the tavern is watching, and your blood turns from freezing to seething within seconds. 

“How long have you been there?” you ask stiffly, glaring at your friend. She pulls an innocent face, leaning back in her seat with performative disinterest. Traitor. 

“Just long enough to hear what I needed to”. Kaeya’s grin is threatening to split his face in half. “You really think I’m that attractive, huh? I never would have guessed”. 

You jump up from your chair, spitting out the first thing that comes to mind. “Fight me”. 

He actually laughs, a few of the tavern occupants joining in. “What? Are you sure you’re not mixing up a couple words there?”

You clench your jaw, deciding to just go with it. “Fight me. Knights of Favonius training ring, tomorrow morning. I’m sick of your attitude”. 

“Oh?” He cocks a brow at you. “I hope you’re ready after wasting away in that office of yours”. 

“I could beat you blindfolded”, you reply presumptuously, mimicking his stance, unable to ignore the fact that he smells a little too good for your tipsy state. At least he finally took your orders. You hold his stare regardless, unwilling to give in.

“Thank the Seven, you’re working this out at last”, your friend sighs, sipping at her drink. “And here I thought you’d take the sexual tension to the grave”. 

Kaeya’s lip twitches in amusement as he extends one hand. “Tomorrow morning at seven. I’ll try not to kill you then, for that sake alone”.

You give him a dirty look, reluctantly shaking his hand. “Your chance of me doing the same is decreasing with every word that leaves your mouth”. 

“I can live with that”. He suddenly leans closer, and before you can pull away, whispers in your ear, sultry tone leaving the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. “You’re going down, darling”. 

Like Hell you are.

---

The training hall is usually relatively empty at this time of day. Some dedicated trainee’s use the morning to get their routine over, but otherwise, not many knights exercise this early. And though at least a few of them must have heard of what happened last night, not many are to be seen. Even if you could live with an audience, you decide this way is perfectly fine, especially in case of the (distinctly undesirable and should-be-impossible outcome) of you losing to him. You’re a bit out of breath from warming up, fixing your shirt before making your way over to the ring.

Kaeya is waiting for you there, clad in athleisure and in the midst of testing out a beginner’s sword. His vision is nowhere to be seen, and you curse him a little for not giving you something more to berate him for. Nevertheless, you straighten up as you approach.

“Good morning”, you greet him nonchalantly, walking over to inspect the racks of weapons. 

A grin flashes across his face as he turns around, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Hello, darling”.

“Sweating already?” You raise a brow at him, deciding to ignore the nickname. “And here I thought I’d have a challenge”. 

Kaeya laughs, rolling out his wrist. “You are cute when you’re acting tough”. Tilting his head aside, he watches you take your pick of one of the swords. The morning light bathes him in a soft glow, falling through the high windows, hair tied up in a messy bun at the back of his head, and- wait. Your cheeks grow hot as you realise what absurd directions your thoughts are heading to. Your friend must have gotten under your skin more than you realised last night. 

Shaking your head a little, you roll your shoulders back and face him head-on. “Whatever makes you feel better. For the rules, as by training code, drawing blood is an immediate end”. 

“No visions, no hits near the head or vital organs, dull blades and stop means stop”, Kaeya counts up calmly, making his way to the center of the ring. His blue eye gleams playfully in the light, and he swings the sword near aimlessly while walking. You grit your teeth at his relaxed manner. He wasn’t taking this seriously at all, huh?

“Don’t worry, Inspector”. He winks as he comes to a halt before you, maintaining the mandated arm’s distance. “I know the rules”. 

“I’d hope so”, you reply, getting into position and watching him do the same. You decide to stir the pot a little, knowing it’s best to get into his head, and feign a smile. “I can’t wait until the rest of the knights hear about how royally I kicked your ass”. 

He laughs lowly, and is immediately on the attack. Anticipating such, after years of observing him in battle, you parry it easily, ducking aside to avoid the next one. You wait until he’s nearly backed you into the corner, ego visibly growing with every move he makes, and take a rolling dive, knocking his legs out from under him with your own. 

He manages to catch himself, and you’re relieved by the split-second of surprise in his expression. You withdraw towards the middle, blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face and, in a rush of adrenalin, smirk at him. “Not so confident now, are we, Captain?”

“You’re not as out of shape as I anticipated”, he counters, slashing his sword through the air as he repositions himself. Brows narrowing playfully, he adds: “It’ll make it more fun to thoroughly take you apart”. 

You don’t give him more time to prepare. Blades crash onto each other as he masterfully deflects your attacks, and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get out of breath. Neither of you can land a hit, no matter how feasible it seems. He handles the comparatively bulky sword with enviable ease, and you grow frustrated quickly, unable to break through his defences. In turn, you don’t let him back you into any corner, constantly keeping the playing field level and returning every new strike with your own.

“You know what, I’ve missed this”, Kaeya pants, quick to switch hands as you sidestep him, attempting to land a hit on his blinde side. 

“Huh?” is all you can answer in return, deflecting his counter aimed at your back, and darting aside. 

“Training”. He nearly misses the parry, forced to back up if not to risk a blow to his abdomen. “With you”. He shoots you a brash smile, easily twisting out of your range.

You huff, irritated at the fact that he still has the mind to flirt. “Your silver tongue isn’t getting you out of this one”. 

“I meant it”. And of damn course, his tactic worked, the point of his blade sinking into your shoulder. “Remember when we used to practise together?” 

“Before you became a dick, you mean?” you shoot back, attempting an aggressive strike at his lower thigh. Your body is getting sore, heart pounding against your ribcage, breaths coming out short and strained, but despite it all, you’re enjoying this. In any case, you’d rather die than admit to him that you’re having fun. 

You really needed to get out of your office more.

Kaeya laughs, equally exhausted, before advancing at an alarming speed. “I’ll give you that one, darling”. 

Your blades cross, metal clashing loudly, and you can see an opportunity form as he shortly weakens his hold. Rotating your sword in the opposite direction to try and hook beneath his, you’re so distracted by the possibility of disarming him that you don’t notice the satisfaction that washes over his expression as you do. One swift swipe of his foot and you’re falling backwards, weapon nearly ripped from your hand. 

Your back hits the mat with full force, air knocked out of your lungs, causing you to give a strangled gasp. Kaeya is smirking down at you, but he’s as out of breath as you are and there’s sweat soaking his shoulders. You don’t think before you move, so infuriated by the words you know are about to leave his mouth, fingers tightening around the handle. 

The hit against his shins sends him to the ground, but not sideways as planned, instead straight onto you. You don’t have the time or the mind to roll out of the way, and he tries very hard to catch himself, hands landing on either side of you. You yelp as most of his weight hits you, momentarily forgetting what’s even happening. 

 “Fuck”, Kaeya groans, arms shaking as he tries to brace himself. “You like playing dirty, don’t you?” 

Slowly regaining the ability to breathe after nearly being crushed, your eyes dart to see him dangling over you, legs and lower body resting on your own. If anyone hears of this out of context, you’re moving to the other end of Teyvat. He’s panting, no doubt as shocked as you are, strands of his hair tickling your nose. His face is mere inches away from yours, heat seeping through his clothes onto your skin. 

Decidedly too close.

Your blade kissing his throat is a much better sight. You know you’re technically breaking the rules, but the way his eye widens, corners of his mouth twitching and brows raising to the sky is just too good of a picture. 

“Get off me”. You growl, trying to steady yourself with your other hand. 

His laugh sounds astounded, but contrary to your demand, he does not. Instead, his chin juts forward, pressing the metal into his skin for earnest. There’s no blood, of course, all these swords are dulled to near uselessness, but it does leave you speechless at the amount of reckless pride he seems to possess. 

 Kaeya hums, clearly satisfied at your reaction. “I’ll be honest, this is not how I initially pictured you under me”. 

What a smug son of a-

“Oh, fuck off”. Your knee makes contact with his stomach and he rolls off you with a grunt. You scramble to your feet, grimacing at what you're sure will be a bruised tailbone later. He’s already composed himself, twirling his sword idly as you get a proper grip on your own. Looking you up and down, his grin widens into a smirk.

“Though you do look similar to the imaginary aftermath”. 

“I am going to kill you”, you hiss, red flashing before your eyes as you charge at him. Kaeya begins to laugh once more, but it quickly dies down as your moves become more and more aggressive, driving him out of the ring and towards the wall. The thought of whoever may be around again crosses your mind, but honestly, you can’t care about who may be watching, every last bit of strength you have left is focused on Kaeya and his stupid fucking face and the way he evades your strikes with a precision that only leaves to be desired to every onlooker. It makes you want to actually scream. You finally land two hits on him, arms beginning to shake from exhaustion and overwhelming adrenalin. 

But once more, Kaeya catches you off guard. The switch flips just as his leg hits the wall and you’re just beginning to notice your own smile, sure of your victory. His expression darkens, lip caught in his teeth as his eyes narrow down at you. 

Your blades clash as they did before, and of course he uses your own move against you, managing to perfect it. Your sword goes flying to the ground, and the moment you lose your grip is the moment you’re being slammed against the wall that he was nearly backed up against mere seconds ago. The tip of his sword is digging into the soft skin of your throat, positioned perfectly above your Adam's apple. 

Suddenly, it goes very quiet, the silence only interrupted by your laboured breaths. Maybe it’s the fact that he near literally has a knife to your throat, but you can’t tear your eyes away from him. His hand is pressing on your shoulder, pinning you to the wall, keeping you in place. His leg is slotted between yours, barring you from moving an inch. 

For the first time since you’ve met him, you have nothing to do but to admire him. Sweat is making his hair stick to his skin, an exhausted flush upon his dark cheeks. His body is visibly tense, stare boring into yours with a kind of intensity you’ve only ever seen during active combat. There’s nothing unintentional about the way he’s restraining you, nothing hesitant about the placement of the blade against your skin. His chest is heaving, teeth digging into his lip in constrained effort, fingers digging into your shoulder as if expecting you to fight back.

You don’t. 

Instead, you let out a shaky breath. The adrenalin is still surging through you, but you can’t feel the constant urge to punch him in the gut anymore. Huh. Weird. 

“You won”. Your voice is calmer than it ever has been talking to him, accepting of your defeat. Plus, your body is beginning to realise that whatever just happened hurt, and quite a bit at that. You wince, knowing you’re going to need some ice to get through the rest of the day. 

Kaeya shakes his head determinedly, stare not wavering. “You had me in practically the same position less than a minute ago. You could have flipped me over with ease and won. You didn't. That’s the only reason I got you here”. His grip on your shoulder eases up. “We’re equal”. 

Withdrawing the sword from your neck, he takes a step back, relinquishing his hold on you. You feel strangely dazed, automatically reaching to check for cuts on your neck. “I guess?”

“You okay?” He sounds relatively quiet as well, nearly uneasy, which does not fit the overconfident persona he usually bears. Whatever tension there was before has yielded to something more cautious, like strangers navigating their way across broken ice. 

You nod, reaching to pick up your sword. “Fine”. You pause briefly, debating your words before meeting his eye again. “That was… good exercise. Thanks for fighting me”. 

He laughs a little, and you’re taken aback by how much you don’t feel like reacting. What was going on? At the latest after that laugh you’d usually be back at his throat. 

“Sure”. There’s the typical amusement in his face, but his smile is less egregious and smug. It’s… kind? “I’d have no problem repeating it”. 

You raise your shoulders, unsure of what to do now. “I guess… I wouldn’t either?”

“Good”. He runs a hand through his hair in an effort to fix the mess it’s become. You’re beginning to hear the confidence you’re used to re-enter his words, but it doesn’t appear to bother you. “Friday’s at seven, then. We’ll make it a regular thing”.

“Trying to kill each other?” You surprise yourself with the attempt to ease the tension, and why in the world do you have the urge to smile at the sight of his?

“If that’s how you want to see it”. He shrugs, placing his sword back on the racks. Glancing over his shoulder, he regards you for a long moment. “I think your friend is right”. 

“In what regard?” you ask, in principle fully aware of what that expression means for you. 

Kaeya’s shit-eating grin has made its way back onto his face. “I think this tension needs resolving. Whatever means it takes”. 

You can hear the words in your head before he says them. 

“Be that with swords against each other’s necks or in my bed. You decide”.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 6

----------------------

To say that I was doing well after I left Derek’s house would be a lie. I really don’t understand why it hurts so much. We barely knew each other outside of a few encounters. Was it just me that felt the aching in my chest? I want to believe that he felt the same thing, but that seemed selfish. That I wanted him to miss me. That I dreamed of him showing up at my window and begging to see me. But that wouldn’t be real, that was a fantasy. Derek would never act like that. That was just my fantasy. 

I promised Stiles I wouldn’t get romantically involved with Derek, but it was more painful than I have ever imagined. 

-

I sat in Coach Finstock’s office while the school day went on. Relacing the netting on the crosses that were used in case any of the players broke their own. The repetitive movements were mind numbing so it was probably for the best. I could zone out and not think about Derek. 

Tonight was parent teacher conferences for some students who weren’t doing well academically, both Scott and Stiles were a part of that list. But who could blame them? One of them was a werewolf and the other was friends with the aforementioned werewolf. The weeks seemed to run together, it didn’t even feel like autumn yet, but we were halfway to winter. 

I had stayed away like I promised. The only times I even heard about Derek was from what Scott told Stiles. They were both planning on finding the alpha and taking him down together. That would be good for him. Good for both of them. I have been feeling so many emotions since then. A lot of anxiety and anger. But they never felt like my own. I sighed and rested my eyes for a minute, the repeated movements slowing my brain down enough to sleep on Coach’s desk. 

The man in front of me was badly burned, one side of his face was pink and muddled, much of his hair was burned on that side. 

“I need your help.” Derek’s voice echoed, “If you can hear me, I need you to give me a sign. Blink. Raise a finger. Anything. Just… Just something to point me in the right direction, okay?” The man, his Uncle Peter, stayed in the same position. 

He sighed, “Someone killed Laura. Your niece, Laura? Whoever he is, he’s an Alpha now… but he’s one without a pack, which means he’s not as strong. I can take him. But, I have to find him first.” Still no response. 

“Look, if you know something, just give me a sign. Is it one of us? Did someone else make it out of the fire?” 

Still getting no response, he became agitated, “Just give me anything! Blink! Raise a finger! Anything!” He growled, reaching for the man, “SAY SOMETHING”!

“Hey.” I jolted at the sound of Finstock’s voice. He stood in the doorway of his office. 

“You alright, kid?” He asked, his eyes went from my face to the crosse that I was aggressively fixing the net on. What was that? Was I… seeing what Derek was seeing? No, that was impossible. Insane even. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” I went back to relacing, tugging the knots taut and reaching for a lighter to burn the ends of the string so they wouldn’t unravel. 

“Do I need to kick his ass?” He asked, his large eyes looking a little more crazy than usual. He was trying to seem threatening, but I wasn’t threatened by his booming voice and looks anymore. He was alluding to someone not treating me right but it couldn’t be further from the truth. 

I chuckled a little, “No. It’s not his fault. He’s going through a lot right now.” I stood up and placed the crosse in the spare locker with the rest of them, “Besides, I probably shouldn’t be dating considering the last guy I was dating murdered my parents and tried to murder me.” The humor was dark, but what a way to cope. 

“Any news on that guy?” He stood up straight, walking to his desk. 

“Nope. I think he skipped town. He’s the feds' problem now.” 

“Does Stiles want to be a doctor?” He changed the subject, he was looking at a paper in his hand. 

“Uh… Not that I know of.” I shrugged. 

“Because he wrote a detailed history of male circumcision on his economics test.”

-

I got out late, well past the time the student teacher meetings were over. Filing records, grading a couple things for Finstock and ordering more pearls for the upcoming games since we were running low. These days really run together, especially when you’re trying to forget most of the year that happens. 

Speaking of happening, was I really seeing the same thing Derek could? It didn’t make sense. They were just random dreams. Like the one the other day where Derek was speaking to this woman about how she didn’t kill his sister. That was just a dream. But… Why could I feel sadness? Sadness, guilt and pain.

I got home, seeing that Stiles’ Jeep was nowhere in sight meaning that he was off to do more werewolf nonsense with Scott. I trusted Scott to keep him safe, but that didn’t mean I wanted Stiles running around where there was an alpha on the loose. 

That night I made dinner, ate, saved two plates for Uncle Noah and Stiles and sat in the living room. They were running a story on another body that had been found. A bus driver killed in an animal attack. They were calling it a mountain lion. A mountain lion was more likely than a werewolf normally. But here we are. Officially werewolf capital of the world. I turned off the TV and laid back on the cushions, closing my eyes. Maybe a couch nap would relax me a little, it would kill my back in the morning, but I would be able to tell when Stiles came home. 

Scott and Stiles were walking towards me across the school lawn, playfully pushing each other. 

“I’m gonna kill both of you.” Derek’s voice said, “What the hell was that? What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?” He was frustrated and angry, but also a little scared. Finding the alpha is what he needed to do, at the same time though, this person got the jump on Laura. 

“Sorry…I didn’t know it would be that loud…” Scott said sheepishly. 

“Yeah, it was loud… And it was awesome!” Stiles cheered. 

“Shut up.” Derek barked.

“Don’t be such a sour wolf.” Stiles mocked. 

“What’d you do with him?” Scott asked, looking around me. 

“What?” Derek asked, I turned to see an empty backseat, “I didn’t do anything…” I saw Scott and Stiles’ eyes widen as pain exploded through my back. Blood gushed from my mouth as I was lifted up. I was coughing and choking on my own blood. Pain and fear were running through me, my heart pumping so quickly causing more and more blood to gush from my mouth. The last thing I saw was the world rushing by me as I was thrown towards the school wall. 

I woke up before I made impact. My heart was racing and my back ached. I reached behind myself awkwardly. The only thing I felt was the raised bumpy scar from my stab wound. So it was just a dream, but it felt so real. So…Was it real? Did I just experience Derek…

I looked up at the clock and saw it was well into the early morning. I got up and made my way upstairs, Stiles’ door was slightly open and there was still light inside. I just went in, panic already starting to build in my chest. Stiles was sitting at his computer, he turned and looked up. He looked like he had a long night. 

“Stiles, is…” I swallowed thickly, “Is Derek d-…Dead?” My lip was trembling. He opened his mouth to answer then closed it.  He avoided my eyes. 

“I really don’t know.” He explained what happened at the school that night. How the alpha attacked them and chased them around the school and that when they got out, Derek’s body was gone. 

“I don’t know if he crawled off somewhere or if the alpha dragged him away before the cops showed up. But I’m pretty sure I won’t have to go back to school until Monday. We tried to blow the alpha up. And we also kinda blamed Derek for it.” 

I shook my head and chuckled, “Nice. Throwing a dead man under the bus, after all he’s done for me.” 

“It wasn’t my idea!” He shouted in a hushed tone, “We thought he was dead for sure. But now I don’t know. Besides, we couldn’t give up the big secret to a hunter’s daughter, a dick, and Lydia who has been through enough already.” I nodded and left the room. He called after me but I couldn’t be in the room anymore. Just… they could have blamed anyone. A rabid animal even, but they were blaming Derek. I closed the door and leaned against it, slowly sliding down until I met the floor. My chest felt tight and I wanted to cry. I had cried so much lately I didn’t know if I could. My emotions were running so high and it was so confusing? Why was everything so different? 

-

It was Monday morning and tonight was another full moon, meaning Scott was jumpy and could turn at any moment. The night before they had gone off to “hang” but Stiles was really bad at hiding the alcohol he had taken to get drunk with Scott. 

I was eating cereal at the kitchen table when Stiles came down. He was groaning and definitely hungover. 

“Booze doesn’t pay, does it?” I smiled. 

“You’re more chipper than usual.” He grimaced a bit, holding his head. 

“Not chipper, just really good at fakin’ it.” I went in for another spoonful. He looked away, hearing Uncle Noah coming through the kitchen on his phone. 

“We are watching his family’s house. Maybe he’ll wind up there?” Uncle Noah looked up, seeing Stiles, “Give me a second.”

“Don’t you have a test to get to?” He asked. 

“What’s going on? Did you find Derek yet?” Stiles asked, more pep in his voice. 

“I’m working on it. You go take your test.” He said firmly. 

“All right, Dad, listen to me-” Stiles stood up.

“Go!” He shouted, I had never heard him shout before. 

“This is really important! You have to be careful tonight, okay? Especially tonight.”

“Stiles, I’m always careful.”

“Dad, you’ve never dealt with this kind of thing before, okay? At least, not like this.”

“I know. Which is why I brought in people who have. State detective. Go take your test.” Stiles grumbled but grabbed his book bag and left the house. Uncle Noah sighed and went back to his phone call as he followed Stiles out the door. 

-

Later on in the day, Stiles texted me. He probably shouldn’t be, especially with his test. 

STILES: Scott had a panic attack about Allison. He said he might kill someone.

I sighed, my thumbs dancing over the phone screen. 

(Y/N): Then we’ll chain him up so he can’t get out. I’ll pick up some chains at the hardware store.

-

After a stop at the hardware store, I got to the lacrosse fields where Coach Finstock was looking over a list. 

“How’s the pink-eye epidemic?” I asked. He rolled his eyes. 

“Real good, half of my players had to go on the bench. Goddammit, Greenberg.” I looked over the list. 

“Who’s Bilinski?” I squinted at his sloppy writing. 

“That one.” He pointed his pen towards Stiles. 

“You put Stiles on the first line?” I smiled, perhaps my subtle hints had worked. 

“Yeah, and we made McCall co-captain.” 

I blew air out of my mouth, “I’m sure Jackson shit a brick.” 

He shook his head, “Yeah, he’s not taking it well.”  I shrugged and made my way over to the bench where Scott and Stiles were in the middle of a conversation. I didn’t join, just listened in. 

“Yeah, she likes you. She’s totally into you.” Scott smirked. Stiles grinned, clearly excited. The She in this scenario could be none other than Lydia Martin. But there was something about Scott’s tone that threw me off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lydia making her way to her seat in the bleachers, pulling out a compact mirror and fixing her lipstick. I didn’t want to believe that Scott would do that to his friend, but the facts were pointing towards it. 

Practice seemed to be going well, that is until Scott got pushed over during a practice run. I could practically feel his anger from across the field. 

“All right, you’re up, big boy! Let’s go!” Coach called. Scott retaliated this by knocking into another player, and sending him hard on his back. I winced, intaking a breath through my teeth. 

“That’s it, McCall! That’s the spirit! You earn it! Earn it, McCall!” Coach grinned. Maybe this is why we had so many players on the bench. Coach could see victory when Scott played. It was Stiles' turn on the offensive against Scott. With the full moon so close, I don’t think their friendship would do Stiles any favors, he shoved Stiles away just as hard and fast as the other player. Each time he got a goal. The next player, Danny, also was a victim of werewolf rage since Scott hit him in the face, sending him to the ground. I grabbed Coach’s whistle and blew it, calling for the play to pause. 

I jogged up to Danny and knelt down, some other players surrounded as well. 

“Danny, can you hear me?” He nodded slowly, holding his bleeding nose. I stood up, “Take him to the bench guys.” I walked back over to Stiles and Scott. 

“Everybody likes Danny. Now everybody’s gonna hate you.” 

“I don’t care.” Scott said smugly. Stiles shook his head and went back to the benches. 

“What the hell is your problem? You make co-captain and it goes to your head.” I shoved his shoulder. He breathed out, his eyes glowed yellow 

“You don’t want to mess with me right now.” 

I narrowed my eyes, “Is that a threat?” He smirked, his eyes going up and down my body. 

“It could be.” I looked at him in disgust. 

“First Lydia and now me? You’re a really shitty friend, Scott.” I made my way back to Stiles who was staring back at the bleachers. Jackson and Lydia were talking. 

“He did it.” He whispered. I squeezed his arm lightly. It was going to be a long night.

-

That night, Stiles and I went to the McCall’s house to get prepared for the full moon. Stiles carried a duffle bag to the best of his ability, even though it had the steel chains  and locks I had bought. One of the only reasons I came was so if I needed to I could get him out quickly. The other was because I didn’t know how he would react to the situation with Lydia. Stiles unlocked the door and went inside. Did Mrs. McCall know he had a key?“

Scott?” We heard her call. Mrs. McCall turned the corner and saw us in the hallway. She was in her scrubs, probably going in for a late night shift.

“Stiles.”

“And (Y/N).” I waved.

“Ah.” Her eyes went to Stiles' hand, she pointed, “Key.”

“Oh, yeah, I had one made.” Well, that answers that question. 

“That doesn’t surprise me. It scares me, but it doesn’t surprise me” And then, like a buffoon, Stiles dropped the duffel bag with a heavy thud. 

“What is that?”

“Uh, school project.” He lied. Mrs. McCall, who either believed the lie or just wanted to change the subject, asked: “He’s okay, right?” 

“Who, Scott? Yeah, totally.” Stiles lied.

“He just doesn’t talk to me, not much anymore. Not like he used to.” She said somberly. I could only imagine that’s how my mom felt when I went into high school and into a phase where parents were uncool. 

“Well, he had a bit of a rough week.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get it. Yeah. Um, okay. Uh, be careful tonight.” 

“You, too.”

“Full moon.” She looked out the window. Stiles and I stiffened. 

“What?”

“There’s a full moon tonight. You should see how the ER gets. Brings out all the nutjobs.” 

“Oh.” He breathed out, both of our shoulders dropped.

“Yeah…” She said awkwardly. 

“Right…”

“You know, it’s, um, actually where they came up with the word "lunatic.”

-

We opened the door to Scott’s room. Stiles dropped the duffel and turned on the lights. We both jumped when we saw Scott sitting in his computer chair. 

“Oh my god.” I put a hand on my chest, trying to catch my breath. 

“Dude, you scared the hell out of us. Your mom said you weren’t home.”

“I came in through the window.” he said blankly. Stiles and I shared a glance. 

“Okay, um, let’s get this set up.” Stiles bent down to get into the duffel bag that was near the radiator, “(Y/N) got the heavy duty stuff.” I kept my distance from Scott, staying right by the door, ready to grab Stiles and book it. 

“I’m fine,” Scott said, causing us both to stare, “I’m just gonna lock the door and turn in early.” We all knew a door wouldn’t stop him, he had other plans in mind. 

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked, “Cause you got this kinda serial killer look goin’ on in your eyes. I’m hopin’ it’s the full moon taking effect cause it’s starting to freak me out.” 

“I’m fine.” Scott repeated, “You should both go home.” 

“Alright, we’ll leave.” He stood up then stopped, clearly trying to put his back up plan into motion, ‘Well would you at least look in the bag and see what we bought? You know, maybe you use it, maybe you don’t.”

“Just in case you’re feeling a little anxious.” I smiled. Scott got up and walked to the duffel bag. He bent down and pulled out the thick, metal chains. 

“You’re thinking I would put these on? Chain me up like a dog?” He snarled and dropped the chains. 

“Actually, no.” Stiles quickly pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and slapped him on Scott’s wrist, chaining him to the heater. I grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him away when Scott lunged. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Scott growled. 

“Protecting you from yourself.” Stiles sighed and glared, “And giving you payback. For making out with Lydia.” And there it was. Maybe I should have checked the bag for other items he bought. He went downstairs, leaving me and Scott in the bedroom. 

“(Y/N), uncuff me!” He struggled. 

I shook my head, “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I don’t have the key.” 

He lunged and growled, causing me to jump. I looked away, embarrassed that I was showing him that I was afraid. But I was afraid. I’ve known this kid practically his entire life and he was turning into a completely different and dangerous person. 

“You like that? Hmm?” He hummed suggestively. I shook my head, talking to him was probably going to just make things worse. Thankfully, Stiles had come back…with a dog bowl.

“I brought you some water.” He said, pouring water from a bottle into the bowl and setting it down in front of Scott.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU” Scott roared and threw the bowl at Stiles.

“Stiles…” I whispered. The situation was getting dangerous. 

“You kissed her, Scott! Okay? You kissed Lydia. And that’s my…The one girl that I have-'' Stiles shook his head, “You know, for the past three hours, I’ve been thinking it’s probably just the full moon, you know? He doesn’t even know what he’s doing and tomorrow he’ll be back to normal. He probably won’t even remember what a complete dumbass he’s been. A son of a bitch. A frickin’ unbelievable piece of crap friend.”

“She kissed me.” Scott interrupted. 

“What?” Stiles looked so betrayed. 

Scott grinned menacingly, “I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me.” Stiles glared and walked out of the room, I followed behind. 

“She had her hands all over me, she would have done anything I wanted! ANYTHING!” Scott’s voice rang through the house. Stiles paced back and forth outside the door. 

“Stiles?” Scott called through the door, “Please let me out. It’s the full moon, I swear! You know I wouldn’t do any of this on purpose. Stiles, let me out. This is starting to hurt. You said it, Stiles, it’s the full moon. It’s Allison breaking up with me. It’s not just a break, she broke up with me. It’s killing me! I’m feeling hopeless. Just let me out.” Stiles paused, looking towards the door. I looked him in the eye, shaking my head. 

“He’s just trying to make you feel bad.” 

Stiles nodded, “I can’t.” He called. 

“No! No no no!” Scott shouted, followed by screaming. And then silence. Stiles opened the door, Scott was gone. Only broken handcuffs remained. I grabbed a set of chains and started going downstairs. 

“Stiles, stay here.” 

“(Y/N)!” He called, grabbing my arm before I went out the door. 

“Stay put.” I glared, shutting the door behind me. Scott was a sweet kid normally. But if I needed to keep Stiles safe and if that meant knocking out a couple of his teeth then I would. I went around back to his window and followed the path of broken grass into the woods. I gripped onto the chains tightly, ready to swing if I needed to. My plan had been to knock him out and chain him to a tree. Not sure how well that would work though. 

I stopped in a clearing, having lost the trail. Behind me a twig snapped. I’ve always been an act first, ask questions later in these situations. I swung the chain, cracking Scott across the face. My eyes widened at the state of him. Like Derek, he had coarse hair growing down his cheeks, the bridge of his nose was scrunched up and appeared more animal like, his brow bone protruded. His jawline though? Still weird. 

Scott’s head had swung to the side with the chain, he looked back slowly, and glared as he spit blood onto the ground. The scrape on his cheek healed almost immediately. 

Ha ha, I’m in danger.

“Scott.” I said cautiously, taking a slow step back, “You know me. I’m your friend.” He wasn’t moving closer, but he also hadn’t stopped looking at me with his glowing yellow eyes like I was food. 

“So, uh, you blow off your steam. Do some running, clear your head, that good stuff. And I will see you tomorrow. Okay?” I smiled nervously, he didn’t answer, “Okay.” Now it was time to run since I had gotten myself a decent head start. I turned and ran, hearing a roar and footsteps behind me. I threw the chains back over my head, hoping to trip him or hit him in the head. That didn’t seem to do much since he didn’t slow down. 

All at once I was body slammed to the ground and turned on my back. Scott was sitting on top of me, leaning down he roared loudly in my face. His large pointed canines shone in the moonlight. 

I screamed, shoving and kicking at him, “SCOTT! SCOTT PLEASE!” He thrusted a clawed hand down towards my chest that I barely caught. He seemed slightly confused, but pushed down. I whined, using everything I had keeping his sharp claws from my chest. I couldn’t even breathe.

“Scott, please don’t hurt me.” I begged through my teeth. He roared again, raising his other arm to strike when something flashed across my vision. Whatever it was, it knocked Scott off of me. I gasped for air, my lungs and  muscles were screaming at me. The two began to fight, growling and snarling. I sat up, scrambling to get out of the direction of the brawl. I couldn’t see much in the dark since the clouds had covered the moon, but whoever it was got Scott on the ground, roaring down at him. The other stood up straight just as the moon’s light peaked through. And there stood Derek Hale - tall, proud, and very much alive.

---------------------

Read part 7 here!

Oh boy, who could have seen that coming? Anyone who’s seen season 1, that’s who. 

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[thedevilsmemes]

      PINTEREST QUOTES I USE IN MY MUSINGS BOARDS                         ~ A SENTENCE MEME - PART 2

                         Change pronouns as / when needed to preferred pronoun.

“I do not do justice, I do damage. I do not do empathy, I do damage. I do not do forgiveness, I do damage. I do not do mercy, I do damage.”

“Like, you can boss me around in sexual situations but you better not try to tell me what to do in regular life.”

“I’m fine, I’ve had worse.”

“I’m meaner than my demons.”

“If I cannot bend Heaven, I will raise Hell.”

“Well, aren’t you a little ray of pitch black?”

“He was like a storm.”

“You want to play dirty? Fine, let’s play dirty!”

{ feels an emotion. } “Who the fuck authorised this?!”

“What the fuck? What the fuck is this? What the fuck?”

“Judge if you want. We are all going to die. I intend to deserve it.”

“Goddamn right you should be scared of me.”

“They wanted a monster; I decided to give them one.”

“Seduce and destroy.”

“What the fuck is intimacy? How does that work? Letting… people be close to you? What the fuck?”

“You couldn’t kill me if you tried for one hundred years.”

“I’ll do this my way.”

“I am severely emotionally unstable.”

“What, from the bottom of the heart, the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t take any orders. I barely take suggestions.”

“I send my best regards from Hell.”

“I like my coffee how I like myself: Dark, bitter and too hot for you.”

“Me and God, we don’t get along.”

“Be brave, Angel.”

“Self care is drinking three pots of coffee and getting into a knife fight with God.”

{ takes gulp of vodka straight from the bottle } “My day was fine.”

“Have I stabbed you? No. Then I am being nice.”

“Holy Shit! I’M the demon living in my house.”

“Sir, that’s my emotional support knife collection.”

“I want an ancient elaborate dagger with my name engraved into the blade as a gift. The only romantic gesture.”

“ ‘Are you a top or a bottom?’ I'm a threat!”

“Stop being so defensive! I’m just trying to hit you with weapons.”

“The more knives you have the more valid you are.”

“She’s strong but she’s exhausted.”

“She loves moonlight and rainstorms and so many other things that have soul.”

“My darling, you can’t see it can you? How like the moon you are. Both of you so timid in yourselves; hiding pieces from the world. Then, there are those rare moments when you are both full, and it becomes hard to look away. You are beautiful.”

“Calm her chaos but never silence her storm.”

“She wears strength and darkness equally well. That girl has always been half Goddess, half Hell.”

“She has been through Hell, so believe me when I say, fear her when she looks into the fire and smiles.”

“She’s proof that you can walk through Hell and still be an angel.”

“She is both hellfire and holy water. And the flavour you taste depends on how you treat her.”

“Even the mountains can not hold all you have been carrying.”

“Storm with skin.”

“She’s thunderstorms”

“Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”

“Sometimes it takes only one act of kindness and caring to change a person’s life.”

“You have a heart of gold.”

“Butterflies are the Heaven-sent kisses of an angel.”

“She who is brave is free.”

“Clever as the Devil and twice as pretty.”

“Shut up. I wear heels bigger than your dick.”

“Girls who run in heels should be feared.”

“Family is everything to me.”

“She’s an old soul that believes in chivalry, romance, and love.”

“I hate getting flashbacks from things I don’t want to remember.”

“I run on coffee and grace.”

“I’m glad I’ve got boobs… the last thing I need is people making eye contact with me.”

“Tell me to put on my big girl panties one more time… and I’ll take off my thong and strangle you with it!”

“Please read all my posts in a sarcastic tone. You know, for full effect.”

“I have one nerve left and you’re dry-humping it, go away.”

“If I offend you, cry me a river. I’ll bring snacks and a raft. I will literally float down your tears, eating chips and working on my tan.”

“When she is happy, she can’t stop talking. When she is sad, she doesn’t say a word.”

“Music becomes my best friend when nobody else understands me.”

“Act like a lady, think like a boss.”

“I know I have friends but I feel I have no one to talk to about the shit that goes on in my head.”

“She was special. She combined a mean angel and a kind devil.”

“So much pain for someone so young.”

“She’s one of a kind.”

“Red lips and wine sips.”

“Brave girl, it’s time to love again.”

“She is intelligent.”

“Sometimes, when I say ‘I’m okay.’ I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight, and say, ‘I know you’re not.’ ”

“Because I’m not the kind of girl guys fall in love with.”

“I fear I will spend my life, waiting for a love story that doesn’t exist.”

“You’re a woman, use it; bring every man you meet to his motherfucking knees.”

“She denies it but, the truth is, she’s falling in love with him.”

“Hearing your heels click on the floor sounds like power.”

“She loves deeply, regardless of the love she gets back in return and it’s both her biggest strength and biggest weakness…”

“Experience raised her. Hurt taught her. Neither defined her.”

“She was not fragile like a flower was, she was fragile like a bomb.”

“Life is short; make every hair flip count.”

“I’ve always been someone who looks ‘too deep’ into something or someone. That’s because I realised from a young age that there’s always more than what meets the eye.”

“If I say ‘first of all’ Run away because I have prepared research, data, charts, and will destroy you.”

“Underestimate me, that’ll be fun.”

“You think I’m sarcastic? You should hear what I don’t say!”

“She’s a combination of sensitive and savage.”

“Stay classy, sassy and a bit bad assy.”

“She’s battling things her smile will never tell you about.”

 “Ain't you ever seen a princess be a bad bitch?”

“I was told I was dangerous… I asked why? They said ‘because you don’t need anyone.’ That’s when I smiled.”

“She’s been through hell and came out an angel. You didn’t break her darling, you don’t own that kind of power.”

“Watch me. I will go to my own sun and, if I am burned by the flames, I will fly on scorched wings.”

“Her messy hair is a visible attribute to her stubborn spirit. As she shakes it free, she smiles, knowing wild is her favourite colour.”

“She’s strong. But in the back of her mind she doesn’t think that she was meant to be this strong for this long. And she wonders if there is a man out there, somewhere, who understands this.”

“She’s not for everyone and she knows it. People find her different and strange. She dances in the rain, she laughs when she cries and loves through her pain. People fear the unknown and they never knew a girl like her.”

“Don’t tell a girl with fire in her veins and hurricane bones what she should and shouldn’t do. In the blink of an eye, she will shatter that ridiculous cage you attempt to build around her beautiful bohemian spirit.”

“You provoke her until she roars and then get upset at her for becoming the monster you created.”

“Rip out his ego with your fresh nails.”

“She isn’t the sunrise; she’s the fucking sun.”

“You can’t touch a woman who can wear pain like the grandest of diamonds around her neck.”

“Watch your tongue around her. She will bear her fangs and tear you apart with all the grace of a Queen.” 

“If you won’t embrace her madness, then you’ll never taste her magic.”

“Beauty may be dangerous but intelligence is lethal.”

“She is water. Powerful enough to drown you, soft enough to cleanse you, deep enough to save you.”

“Heavy is the crown and yet she wears it as if it were a feather. There is strength in her heart, determination in her eyes and the will to survive resides within her soul.”

“I wish that I could say that I am a light that never goes out, but I flicker from time to time.”

“Spoil me with loyalty. I can finance myself.”

“Shoutout to all the people with brown hair and brown eyes! We basic as fuck but we cute!”

“I feel a nap coming on.”

“Is horny an emotion?”

“I just really like thigh-highs.”

“Even though she looks innocent, she is really a perverted demon.”

“She didn’t sob or wail. Her pain was horribly discreet but as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound.”

“I don’t rise from the ashes, I make them. I’m the whole fucking fire.”

“Beautiful but destructive.”

“I’m aiming for the ‘she’s a badass and cute as hell but I wouldn’t touch her without asking’ look.”

“Loving me must be so fucking hard and I’m so sorry.”

“Some women are lost in the fire. Some women are built from it.”

“You glow differently when you’re actually happy.”

“She’s magic, that one.”

“Kicked out of Hell.”

“Red hair: the crown you never take off.”

“You’ve got a fire inside.”

“She doesn’t need a warrior, she is one. What she needs is a devout heart, and strong arms to hold her after her battles are won.”

“You are the love that came without warning: You had my heart before I could say no.”

“You want battle? I’ll give you war.”

“True evil is, above all things, seductive.”

“The Devil’s got nothing on me, my friend.”

“Haven’t I fallen far enough?”

“I’m not like them, but I can pretend.”

“I don’t like being told what to do.”

“Now I grow wings and rage, and learn how to kill.”

“Life is tough, my darling, but so are you.”

“Though she be little, she be fierce.”

“I know what this is; It’s just myself, talking to myself, about myself.”

“You underestimate my power.”

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 15)

<<Previous part Masterlist   Next part>>

Spotify playlist of the whole series.

(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman, @idontknow296, @beksib, @spythoschei, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 @toe-vind-ek-jou @joscelyn02, @t00-pi, @irwxnhugsx, @selfship-mishaps)

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, ptsd, anxiety.

N/A: In here there's a specific kind of physical comfort I'm okay with, and I'm aware not many people might actually like to be comforted this way. For that, I apologize, but I really wanted to spill some of me in here lmao.

Bucky’s arms surrounded your whole body, like a huge teddy bear; comforting. Letting you know you were safe, you were in the compound. Nobody could hurt you there. Not anymore. You didn’t care you were covered in just a towel, you didn’t care everyone was in there, you didn’t care your hair was dripping wet over the common room’s couch (the one that you bought yourself and you always insisted nobody could drink on it), and you certainly didn’t care you haven’t said a word every since they landed the quinjet with you on it. You only indicated to the medics where you were hurt. Nothing else.

Not a word escaped your throat, more than a dry sob in the shower, once you were finally on your own. And then you were surrounded by concerned people, again. Not the kind of comfort you liked, though. Not like a birthday kind of surrounding; more like a we-thought-you-were-dead-and-now-you’re-here, or a we’re-so-sorry-we-let-this-happen-AGAIN. And no birthday cake.

Loki observed you with his arms crossed. He had apologized twice already, but his lips were still paler than usual. So he really cares, you thought. But your mind was still too clouded with residual fear to even think about him. No shower could clean up your wounds. Your chest tightened and you almost broke in tears again, but Bucky’s arms held stronger around you, squeezing your uncomfort away. Being his best friend for so many years prepared him enough to know exactly how to hold you in the worse.

“I shouldn’t have let you go”, whispers Loki, looking at the floor. He muttered it almost to himself.

You remembered him grabbing your arm and repeating “I’m not letting you go” on the verge of tears, and your throat tightened. He has saved your life before and now he blames himself for not getting there in time, as if it was his job to keep you safe. It definitely wasn’t, though. He showed that he cared so many times, and you were clueless of why. Why would he? You treated him like a punching bag and he welcomed the hits, without knowing why. If you were anything, you were guilty.

It was to be expected. Guilt. You shouldn’t, you knew. You were told you’d feel this way by the medics as they brought you back.

“It wasn’t your fault. It was my idiocy”, you whispered back. But no matter how tiny you shrunk your voice, the compound (silent as a church) and everyone on it was reduced to that same room in there with you, paying attention. You were the spotlight when you wanted to be alone the most. You hid in Bucky’s chest and he covered your head with his chin, knowing how uncomfortable you were. He caressed your back with an open hand, careful as to not touch your injuries.

“This is nobody’s fault, other than Hydra’s, alright?”, said Steve, patting Tony’s back. Tony was marauding with his head low, muttering things about security devices.

“I have installed security against kidnappings ever since my own deal with it. All kinds of systems. How, how the fuck did they manage to fuck this up this badly?”, he finally said. “If it’s anyone’s fault…”.

“It’s certainly not yours, Stark”, said Loki, trying to assure him without crossing any lines.

“No”, Tony laughed sarcastically, “I was gonna say, it’s definitely yours”.

“This is not going to help”, said Bucky, holding you tighter. “If y/n doesn’t feel bad enough… I’m just saying, they doesn’t need you arguing”.

“He’s right. It might be my fault, but if you need to deal with it in any way, now is not the time”, said Loki, defeated. “What is a matter of urgency, actually, is… you know. Hydra”.

“As much as I hate to agree with my brother, he’s right. We need to take you all to a safer place as soon as possible”, added Thor, pointing at the members of The Dark Team.

“Hydra’s nets are not only extent. They’re global, and aggressive. Like cancerous cells in the marrow bone, they are the roots of malice, and they’re going to find you anywhere you go on this planet”, said Clint, not bothering to look up from his phone. He was probably texting his wife to alert her.

You started shaking again.

“Barton, really?”, whispered sharply Bucky.

“He’s right. That’s why you’re not staying on this planet”, snapped Banner, who has been quiet ever since you landed. He assessed your injuries and treated you kinder than any other doctor. You were so glad he was in the rescue quinjet when they picked you up.

“Beg your pardon?”, inquired Loki, cocking an eyebrow. “You mustn't mean…”.

“Yes, Asgard!”, he interrupted him. It was a good idea, though. “Unless you know of a safer place, of course”.

“I… I don’t think it’s a good idea”, Loki looked like he was about to faint. He finally sat on the chair behind him and Thor nodded.

“It’s a terrible idea, I must say”, he agreed once again with his brother.

“Can I ask why?”, Tony was already convinced that if Earth wasn’t safe, other realms could do perfectly fine. And if his certainty was not enough, it was already highly supported by Banner, Clint, Sam, Natasha and Steve. “And if you give me one more of your daddy issues discourse I will literally kick you out of my place”.

“Odin’s not…”, he started.

“I said no daddy issues”, interrupted Tony.

“He’s not my father”, corrected Loki with a patience you’ve never seen on him. “As I was saying, he’s not exactly fond of… humans”.

“He…”, Bruce furrowed his eyebrows, “he what?”.

“No, come on. If you’re giving us a lie at least think of a better one”, snapped Tony.

“Alright. Truly, Odin would not take y/n’s presence very welcome”, he said, and Tony nodded as if he knew what he was talking about. “It’s a personality thing. He didn’t like Dr. Foster either”. You knitted your brows. What was that supposed to mean?

“And because you think your dad wouldn’t like…”, Bruce started arguing, but Loki interrupted him, this time with less patience.

“He is not my father”.

“What about…”, you started saying, and everyone else shut up. You felt ashamed. You were being treated as if you were made out of crystals. You hated it. You tried to raise your voice and toughen up, trying to show you were your normal self. “What about other realms, else than Asgard?”.

Loki sighe, but as soon as he began to think of another place, the ideas crumbled apart. He explained it out loud.

“I’m not welcome in most of them. You know, Odin’s mass killings. In Jotunheim you’d freeze to death after a few hours. I wouldn’t recommend Svartálfheim either, I died there a couple of times. Not a pleasant place to survive either”.

“So Asgard it is”, said Thor, patting Loki’s back. He looked like he was about to stab him in the guts just for implying that.

“Look, Loki. If the King doesn’t like me there, I’ll deal with it”, you said, overly confident.

“What makes you think you’ll deal with Allfather’s disgust, exactly?”.

“I’ll tell you how”, you said, less confident, trying to gain time to think of an answer.

“Do enlighten me”.

“I’m… well, I’m not gonna be there”, you said as if a great idea had just occurred to you. Truth was, it did.

“Yes. That’s the whole issue, pancake”.

“No, no. Hold up, Loki. You can actually shapeshift things”, you suggested, and he raised an eyebrow. “How much of a thing does it have to be, and for how long can you do it?”.

“Did you just call them pancake?”, asked Banner in awe.

“You’re not suggesting…?”, continued Loki with your idea, ignoring Banner.

“Oh, yes. It’s perfect. Tell me you can do it and it’s done. It’s perfect”, you said. You started repeating yourself. Everyone looked at you as if you needed to still convince them of it. “It’s perfect”.

“It is one issue less, that’s for sure”, Sam added. Tony nodded, and everyone else followed. “Can you shapeshift living beings for extended periods of time?”.

“I’m shapeshifting myself right now, in fact. Have been ever since I was born, without even knowing”, he admitted, kind of embarrassed. “But I’m not sure Odin wouldn’t be able to read through it. At least I know my mother would”.

“Oh, she once recognized I was from the future”, added Thor, a reminiscent smile brightening his face. “I didn’t even have to say anything”.

“My point stands”, finished Loki.

“I think it’s worth the try. If he realizes, then I’m leaving and we’re back here thinking of a new plan. Come on, you can’t say it’s not the best option”.

“It’s a terrible one”, he pointed.

“It’s the only one”.

“Fine”, he sighed, resigned.

“Fine”, you tried to finish, but he continued.

“Alright”.

“Okay”.

“Fine”.

“You guys done?”, cut Bucky. Both Loki and you sighed at the same time. “We’re going to Asgard, then”.

[grimmjowkurosakidrake]

Fluttering down, fluttering love

Summary: Post Gaiden, Sasuke finds Sakura in the middle of an ill fated mission.

Length: 3501 words 

Relationships: Sasuke Uchiha/Sakura Uchiha, Sasuke Uchiha/Sakura Haruno

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: NSFW 

Disclaimer: This fic is a commision for the really kind @talesandwonder but really, the idea was so good that I couldn’t stop writting XD

If you want to commission me or any of the other wonderfull writers of @witcheswritings don’t hesitate to DM us!

Sakura will never stop being in awe of the sheer amount of safe places the Uchiha hold around the five great shinobi countries. There’s something to be said about a clan who expanded so far outside of their territory; Building strongholds, secret caves, and cabins deep in the woods around almost every single shinobi populated (or even unpopulated) territory.

This is where Sakura feels somehow estranged from the Uchiha clan. She’s never been outside of Konoha in a mission and thought about making arrangements so her daughter or other relatives could find solace outside the village.

She often thinks about taking Sarada on dates at her favorite dango place, she usually has a camera ready for any important moment in her life.

But she rarely thinks about helping her on missions, just like her own parents rarely talked with her about her own missions, back when she was a genin.

She’s not like Sasuke.

After marrying him, the Uchiha disclosed an entire map of the five great shinobi countries to her. It was an old thing, dusty and well loved, obviously a family heirloom passed to the boy only by merit alone of being the last Uchiha.

“The blue dots are safe places,” Sasuke told her, on a spring night in one of those lucky moments of their journey together when they could spend the night in an inn, change their clothes and take well needed bath. “The red ones are settlements of people who will help you when they see the Uchiha symbol on your back.” He murmured placing a steady hand on the newly embroidered mark on the back of her red shirt. “No questions asked,” he finished, whispering against her ear.

This information was supposed to be for her ears only, so she could be safe anywhere without worrying about being on enemy territory.

Because she was an Uchiha and the Uchiha kept their own safe.

It’s all thanks to this conversation that when she and Sasuke find themselves in need of hiding from their enemies, with her husband heavy and passed out on her shoulders as she tries to drag them both through the heavy rain and into the small cabin well hidden in the depths of the woods north of the land of water. Sakura doesn’t waste any time trying to find a hidden spot.

She already has every spot on the Uchiha map committed to memory.

The cabin is small, completely furnished but not properly stocked, the door is locked too, and Sakura doesn’t have enough chakra to hold her husband and break the door at the same time.

She’s strong enough, thought.

The medic-nin ends up kicking the door open, Sasuke barely wakes up at this, still in a feverish state but awake enough to smirk at his wife’s show of strength.

“Aren’t you glad that we found each other, wife?” Asks the shinobi, holding onto Sakura’s shoulder, trying to stand by himself but failing miserably as his wounded legs fail him.

They’re both drenched to the bone, sweat, blood and rain water mixing in dangerous concoction, putting them at risk of catching a cold, on top of everything.

“Yes,” She chuckles, kissing the side of his head before dragging Sasuke to the dusty, old bed waiting for them at the center of the small cabin. “I always love to reunite with you while being surrounded by rouge ninja, dear.”

She allows the dark haired man to sit on the bed as she limps and closes the door, struggling to perform a simple sealing jutsu on the entrance.

She’s almost completely depleted of chakra, having been fighting for more than an hour alone with more than forty rouge shinobi without a moment to breath or heal herself.

She has burn wounds all over her right arm and leg, her own left leg sensitive from two separated stab wounds courtesy of her enemies.

She hasn’t been able to heal herself properly, not with every single shinobi on her tail and well aware of her identity, with each one of them attacking her at the same time.

Sacrificing their bodies and their lives for the chance of taking down one of Konoha’s three neo sannin.

They obviously knew every single detail about her.

Sakura Haruno can heal herself from almost anything in less than ten seconds, her inhuman strength only paralleled by her quick strategizing in battle, and her chakra control a feat most shinobi twice her age could only dream for.  

Sakura Haruno, also. Would rarely mortally wound an enemy unless pushed to her limit. A deadly weapon with almost no body count to show for it.

When Sasuke found her, she was down to almost thirty men but he had his own tail of rouge shinobi behind him.  

He was already wounded when they found each other in the middle of their own fights. Sasuke, luckily, was not being followed by more than five shinobi and his chakra reserves weren’t low by any means.

He was never one to have mercy on his enemies. As the last of his clan (his family), and a former international criminal, Sasuke Uchiha was not one to rule out murder if it meant saving himself or his loved ones.

With a sigh, Sakura reaches the bed and helps her husband out of his cape and bloody clothes.

He’s bleeding from his right thigh from a katana wound in the form of an almost clean slash across it. He’s probably poisoned if the almost blueish complexion around the three needles still attached to his left shoulder have anything to say about it.

He also has a nasty bruise by the side of his face that could end up developing in a concussion if not treated immediately.

Overall, his injuries are definitely more pressing than her own and even if they weren’t, Sakura would never treat her own husband after herself. Rules of a medic-nin be dammed.

Sasuke of course, would love to object. “You should treat yourself first, Sakura.” He admonishes her as she makes a quick job of removing the needles attached to the shinobi’s shoulders. “My injuries can wait.”

“You’ve been poisoned, dear.” She points out as if it weren’t already obvious, “You definitely can’t wait treatment.”

Sasuke huffs as she opens her poison’s scroll, carefully removing the poison with the aid of a concoction she had stored away on a small vial. “I’m immune to most poisons,” he reminds Sakura, grunting as she injects him with one of her standard antidotes.

“That would make two of us,” she smirks, green soothing chakra oozing off her hands as she makes a quick job of healing the wound on his thigh.

When Sakura is almost ready with the both of them, just finishing with applying some salve on the burns on her arms, Sasuke speaks up. “You shouldn’t have come alone,” he growls from where he’s laying on the bed, still too sore from his injuries and blood lost to help her. “The borders near Rain are still full of rogue shinobi.” He adds, glaring at a blind spot near her. “No matter what Naruto or the other Kage say, the shinobi world is not a place of peace.”

Sakura is strong, but she’s human, a mortal just like him and even Naruto. But more than anything she’s kind. Completely different from anyone of their team. Where everyone at team seven decided to kill for a living, she choose to give life.

If she just killed those men, Sakura would not have been in any trouble, but his wife will never kill anyone if she feels that she doesn’t have to, most of the time she’s reluctant to even mortally wound her enemies.

For what she’s told him, even the death of what he considers a virtual monster: Sasori. Affected her as if the puppet she fought was a living, feeling person.

She felt for him, on his last seconds, cried for him after his death, and learned from him as much as she learned from his grandmother.

She’s a medical ninja at heart, stronger than most, but as far as Sasuke is concerned, Sakura should never have mission alone near the borders of a shinobi village whose culture still revolves around murder and senseless violence.

Sakura huffs, kneeling in front of the fireplace where there’s still some wood from who knows when, it’s a little bit green around the edges so it will be difficult to star a decent fire, but she can do it.

Deeply inhaling and accumulating her chakra at the top of her lungs, Sakura allows herself into breathing the fire her husband passed onto her as if she was his own blood. It was difficult to learn at first; she has to admit. Sakura is not compatible with fire ninjutsu, not even with air ninjutsu.

But people like Kakashi do exist and even if she can’t create a great fireball justsu of the monumental size Sasuke has achieved after years of training. She’s still able to produce enough fire to ignite the fireplace.

“It was supposed to be a recognizance mission,” Mutters the pink haired kunoichi, moving the wood around with the fire iron. “I was not even aware that the place was filled to the brim with rogue ninja.” She sighs, leaving the warmth of the fire to sit alongside her husband on the bed. “If someone told me that there would be shinobi around I would have concealed myself.”

Silently she touches her own hair, then, her forehead, tracing the small diamond tattoo that she earned with years of storing chakra even when her life was at risk.

“I’m not the most discreet looking kunoichi around.” She mutters.

Sasuke sits up on the bed, moving himself so he can be as near her as possible, then, almost in a wary way, the shinobi lifts his only arm, caressing her pink hair with great care.

“The borders of Rain had been invaded for more than a month.” Growls the Uchiha patriarch, not angry at her, of course not.

He’s angry with his Hokage, his best friend.

Naruto must have been aware of this fact. Sasuke somehow manages to be in more contact with the Hokage than with his own daughter and wife.

Even if he promised them to be around more often, to be more in contact with them.

After his short detour in Konoha, when he had an ill fated meeting with a Sarada that didn’t recognise him just like he didn’t recognise her. Sasuke quickly came back to the road, asking Naruto to take better care of Sarada, and informing him that he would be coming back more frequently, if only to start training his daughter as she deserves.

But this past month, Sasuke has only been able to keep correspondence with the Hokage, too apprehensive about his falcons being intercepted by the enemy for him to reach out to Sakura.

It seems that Naruto didn’t have any reserves about exposing their ex teammate to the rogue ninja as himself.

“I’ll have a talk with Naruto.” Finally, concludes Sakura, resting her head on his shoulder. Even if she’s at least a little bit mad with herself for having to be saved by her husband once more. She knows that Naruto didn’t give her enough information.

Sasuke has been giving him information for over a month,  without sending falcons to even her, Naruto should have at least told Sakura to conceal herself.

“That will make it two of us,” he mutters, holding her tight from across her waist. “I can’t believe that idiot.”

“I should have been prepared anyway,” Sighs Sakura, accepting the warm comfort of her husband’s reassuring weight so close to her. “I know the peace treaty doesn’t mean anything more than politics, that I shouldn’t go out of Konoha without concealing myself.”

“It’s not your fault.” Mutters her husband, kissing the side of her head, “You fought with your life for that treaty to be made. You are war a hero, there’s no one more prepared than you.”

“That can’t be true,” she smiles kindly at him.

Sasuke is well known across the shinobi world for being cool and almost, borderline cruel. There’s been more people than Sakura can count warning her about the former criminal. But he is kind to her, he is kind to his daughter.

Sometimes maybe too kind.

There’s something to be said about a merciless murderer who’s able to feel love, who’s capable of kindness.

There’s a lot to be said about the woman who falls in love with him. Always ready to love everyone but herself.

Sasuke sighs “I’ll speak with Naruto.” He concedes, there’s not a lot to be argued when Sakura feels that she has something to prove. “There were at least five A-rank shinobi in the group you fought alone, it’s not your fault when you didn’t even know that you were supposed to fight.”

“You’ve never needed to be briefed before entering enemy’s territory.” She mutters, “you’re always prepared, and so are Kakashi and Sai.”

“You are a medical ninja.” He reminds her, “no matter your rank, you’re always supposed to be part of a team. Especially when dealing with so many powerful ninjas around the area.”

Sakura smiles “Sasuke-kun…” she sighs.

“We will talk with Naruto.” He smiles at her reassuring, “he needs to be reminded of his duties as our Hokage.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Asks Sakura facing him. he smiles at her words as she lifts her hand, carefully moving the hair covering his left eye. “Ino would never believe me,” she laughs.

“Don’t go out ruining my reputation.” He kisses the side of her lips. “I won’t start being nice to anyone out there. Just you.”

Sakura smiles, kissing his closed mouth as he moves away from her face. He grunts but answers the kiss in kind when she holds the back of his neck with one hand and buries her fingers on his hair with the other.

She moans a little when Sasuke licks her bottom lip, and eagerly gives entrance. It’s only when he bites her lower lip that she separates from him.

“You’re hurt, dear.” Admonishes Sakura moaning as Sasuke kisses her neck, licking a long strip from her clavicle to her chiselled jaw.

Sasuke only smirks as an answer. “You’re a really good doctor, wife.” He growls, biting the lobe of her ear.

He plays with the hem of the mesh crop top she wears underneath her qipao long shirt, drumming his fingers against the center of her chest from underneath it, waiting for her to act, as he kisses her deeply.

She barely hesitates before moving him aside with a gentle push on his own naked chest, making a quick job of taking off her top.

He smirks holding her by the waist when she gingerly sits on his lap. “I am a good doctor.” She whispers in his ear, caressing the prominent bulge on his boxers with a firm, steady hand.

Sasuke groans at the feeling, urgently kissing the top of her breasts with wet, open mouthed kisses, lifting his hips and uselessly trying to rut against her hand as she presses her thumb against his already erect cock. “Sakura.” He groans, playfully biting her right nipple.

“What?” She smiles, slowly caresing the sides of his memeber, playing with the head of his cock where a wet patch is already staining his underwear. 

There’s a heated glint in her green eyes, clearly amused by his neediness. By the way he groans when she moves away from him in order to take off his boxers.

“Don’t tease.” He growls holding her neck, then her waist again. Forcing her body underneath him.

“I’m not.” She pouts, lifting her back from the bed when her husband trails barely there kisses from her quivering throat to her stomach.

He easily takes off her pants whith Sakura’s help as she lifts her hips and opens her legs at each side of him.

The lace and silk boy shorts she usually wears undermath her mission clothes are already wet when he kisses the underside of her tights, it doesn’t mean Sasuke will stop there.

Sighing deeply, Sasuke licks a long stripe across her entire clothed sex, holding her clit on the inside of his mouth until she’s burring her fingers on his head and interlacing her legs behind his neck, the talons of her feet digging on his spine.

She hastily removes her fingers from his head to take off her underwear herself. This is what he’s been waiting for.

For Sakura to forget his own pleasure in favor of hers. To overlook him completely as she grips him by the neck and holds his face against her pussy. Forcing him there as Sasuke licks her insides, moving his tongue inside of her core in quick, broad thrusts.

There’s no forcing him, Sasuke loves being here; in between her legs as she moans and demands for more. But the feeling of her manicured nails digging on his scalp, the pain on his back as her legs kick against his skin.

That is the feeling that keeps him rutting against the bed, gasping for breath as he’s not able to hold his owns growls and moans of pleasure at the edging feeling of the barely there pressure of the bed against his cock.

Sakura comes for the first time like this, thrusting hips against her husband’s face, screaming with Sasuke’s mouth holding her clit as his tongue flicks around it without stopping. Not even when she let’s go of his hair or when her juices drip from his neck jaw to his collarbones.

Even when her body falls heavily on the bed, Sasuke lazily kisses her labia to his heart’s content, enjoying her little tremors and gasping moans of over-sensitivity.

“Sasuke-kun…” Sighs Sakura breathlessly holding his jaw. “Stop.” She commands when he tries to fight her grasp on him. “You’re still hurt, honey.” Coos her wife incorporating on the bed and caressing his lower lip with her thumb.

Her voice is soothing but her eyes are burning as she forces him on his back. She kisses him sweetly when her hands grip his cock.

Sasuke can’t help but moan from the depths of his throat as she slowly lowers herself on his member, enjoying the burn and the feeling of finally being full after so much time apart.

With a triumphant groan, Sakura’s hips align with his own “Sakura.” He groans, griping her waist as she bends over him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her knees bending at the sides of his hips.

“It feels so good.” Moans Sakura, her arms resting at the sides of his face, her hips moving without a warning. “I’ve missed this,” she moans against his open mouth.

Slowly, her hands move to the sides of his neck, her tongue peaking out of her open, red lips making his own mouth open up on instinct, gasping when they meet in the middle.

Her hands move to his chest, using him as leverage to rise heavily onto his hips, setting a breathless pace over him. “You’re...” gasps Sasuke, his hands moving to her core, his thumb running small, quick circles on her clit. “So tight,” he moans moving his hips alongside Sakura’s, “so warm.”

There’s warmth coiling at the bottom of his stomach, pressure on his entire chest and his hands moves erratically on her clit. “Sakura!” he screams, unsteadily thrusting into her even when he knows that he should pull out.

She doesn’t respond, her body falling on top of him as her inner walls constrict against his cock and her legs close against him. Sasuke holds her with one arm, embracing her through her moans and quivering espasmodict thrust of oversensitivity, thrusting mindlessly inside her, before coming.

“Sasuke-kun!” Moans Sakura one last time, his grip on her entire body and the warm feeling of her husband filling her, too much for her to remain silent.

There’s a mess of fluids in between them as they cuddle breathless in bed, Sakura’s pink hair tickling the top of his nose.

************......... ************ ************......... ************ ************......... ************ ************......... ************ ************......... ************

The morning after, Sasuke finds Sakura drinking tea with a warm cup of coffee resting by her side. She’s naked from the waist down, her qipao shirt open and resting over her shoulders.

“When are you coming back to Konoha?” He asks, taking the coffee and kissing the top of her head.

“Sarada is on a mission for two weeks.” She answers, smirking “You think we can take down this invasion by then?”

Her smirk is almost feral with confidence, her eyes sharp, just like they were yesterday when she had him on the palm of her hands.

This is the woman he married, Sasuke thinks as he grabs his Katana from the mess of clothes they left las night.

A warrior to her core; confident and strong.

[magicalicefairy]

𝔹𝕖𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕄𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕘𝕖𝕤 -  ᛒᛖᛃᛟᚾᛞ᛫ᛗᛃᚦᛋ᛫ᚨᚾᛞ᛫ᚨᚷᛖᛋ

Chapter 1 “The Beginning”

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornsson x OC / Tyr x Persephone

Warnings: strong language

Word Count: 3.8k (sorry, not sorry)

Chapter 2  AO3  Wattpad

​

The floor I was sitting on was wet, cold, and slippery. The room was dark and I could barely see my surroundings. How long have I been down here? Two days? Curse this priest! Thinks I'm a witch just because I know how to take care of wounds and heal light illnesses by mixing a few herbs. “Witch!” He screamed and then locked me down here. Now I am waiting for my execution, which fortunately has not been approved yet.  Apparently King Alfred had better things to do than sentence young women to death for mixing herbs. If I ever get out of here, by the gods, i will strangle this priest with my bare hands. But how i high are the chances that I would ever see daylight again? Was it the day I was brought to the scaffold? But I couldn't think any further, because my thoughts were disturbed by the ringing of the bells in the church above me.

I heard screams. What was going on here? I moved a little to slide closer to the dungeon door, but I couldn't get very far because iron chains were holding me to the wall. I heard hasty footsteps and trampling outside. Clinking noises, metal on metal. It was a fight! The soldiers of this abbey seemed to be fighting off a battle. Hopefully the attackers didn't come down here, because then they would surely give me a quick death, but before that the bandits would surely assault me. I heard footsteps coming down the corridor and the rustle of a bunch of keys. The priest! That bastard! What was he doing down here? Trying to hide? I heard nervous rustling at the door lock, hasty steps behind him and the roar of angry men. The next moment the door flew open, slammed against the wall with such force that it fell off the hinges and crashed onto the floor with a loud thump. The priest who held me prisoner flew through the door and a bearded northerner with an ax followed him. Blood dripped from the weapon and the silver seemed to light up the dark room. The north man pressed the priest against the wall.

"Where do you hide your treasures?" He said aggressively while holding the ax on his throat.

“You stupid pagan! You will burn in hell! ” He just screamed and wanted to insult him again, but the blood was already spurting from his throat and speckling the ground with red paint. The lifeless body fell to the ground like a sack of flour and lay there like an empty shell.

"That's what I wanted to do," I said, without even thinking about what was going to happen next. The north man noticed me for the first time and if I hadn't said anything, then I would probably have remained hidden in my dark corner.

"That would have been a bit difficult for you" He pointed with his bloody ax at my hands. These were still chained to the iron.

He took a few steps towards me and I had to admit that my heart was racing with fear.

"They have a big chest with treasures down here in the crypt," I quickly gushed out.

He just grunted something unintelligible and then he came closer to me. I pressed myself against the wall and watched every step oh him.

"Why are you locked up here?" He said to himself rather than to me. "You must be special" he knelt next to me and I could smell the blood that was all over his clothes.

"The priest" and I nodded my head to the sad piece of meat that lay lifeless on the floor next to us. "Thought I was a witch just because I know how to treat sick people and I mix herbs"

"I understand. You can heal wounds. So you are a kind of a healer? ”He asked, tilting his head. I hardly recognized him, but he seemed to have light eyes.

"Yeah, I think i am something like that." I replied, trying to sit up, not wanting to show my fear.

"I have a friend who needs help with a stab wound, can you treat something like that?" He turned the ax in his hand.

I paused for a moment and wondered if I could help him, maybe he'll let me live and I can go? Or he would kill me afterwards, but what choice did I have? To remain chained here while the bodies of at least 20 priests and two dozen soldiers rotten in the sun above. No, I had to take the chance and assure him of my help, that was the only way to get out of here alive.

I nodded and held out my hands to him. "If you have a solution, then I'll be happy to help." He grinned and showed me his silver ax. Was he really going to use it to break the chains? Is he insane? That’s going wrong. Never and eve-

I heard a loud clink and already felt the chains slip from my wrists. He did cut the iron with one precise blow. I rubbed my hands and got on my legs. Getting up quickly made me dizzy and i staggered a little.

"Are you okay?" The man held my arm to support me.

I just nodded. “Yes, I just got up too quickly and my legs are a bit shaky, but otherwise I'm fine.

"Good," he muttered and let go of me. "If you take care of my friend, you're free to leave" I nodded in agreement.

We went to the door and climbed the stairs. The light of the sun hit me like a blow. My eyes ached from the brightness, but what else should I expect?

I haven't seen the sunlight for two days and now I was exposed to it ruthlessly. Little by little, my vision improved and I saw the appearance of my Savior for the first time. He was a little taller than me. He had blond hair that he had tied in a braid and the sides were shaved. His clothes were covered in blood and he had a few splatters on his face. His blue eyes fascinated me, they were deep blue and reminded me of the waves on the sea, wild and untamed. He seemed to be staring at me too and I looked away.

"Follow me" and pointed to the massive wooden door at the end of the room. It led into the front yard of the abbey and when we got outside I inhaled fresh air for the first time in a long time. But there was not only the smell of fresh flowers in the air, no, there was also iron, blood, to be precise. And then I noticed that a few dozen corpses were spread out in the courtyard. This man's men had done a neat job. We went out of the garden, down the hill to the river. The huts of the priests and sisters burned and the smoke rose far into the sky. The fire could be seen several kilometers away. I heard the men before I saw them. They stood together in a group. The treasures of the abbey, gold and silver, which could certainly be sold or used well, passed through their hands. A man was sitting on a bench not far from them, his hand on his lower stomach. That had to be my Savior's friend that I was supposed to help.

"Eivor! There you are! ”His call sounded pained and his features cramped, but he tried to smile. The blond rescuer responded to his call. So his name was Eivor.

"Dag, I brought help with me" and he pointed at me.

The man named Dag looked me suspiciously.

"She's a healer, she can look at your wound," said Eivor, kneeling next to Dag.

“It's nothing, believe me. It's just a scratch. It'll be all right soon. ”But he was still holding the wound and it was definitely not just a scratch. The blood was on his clothes and on his hands. The wound seemed to be deep.

"That looks bad to me," I said to him and also knelt next to him. "I have to look at it, otherwise it could get worse."

"Is she one of the nuns here?" He looked at Eivor and raised an eyebrow.

Eivor was about to answer when I said: "No, as he had already said, I am a healer and not a sister."

He growled like a bear. Eivor assured him that I just wanted to help him and Dag agreed. He raised his hand and immediately blood came out of the wound. It was deep, but it had been stabbed clean. I should be able to treat his wound with a couple of bandages, but we weren't in the best situation for wound care. Materials for treating the wound were probably burning in the houses around us.

"We have to get him out of here, there are no clean cloths or clean water to treat the wound with," I said while looking at Eivor.

Eivor looked around and decided I was right.

"We have to get Dag out of here, let's go home!" Eivor roared through the crowd and pointed to two men who helped Dag up and took him to the river shore.

I wasn't sure what to do. How far was their home from here? How would it go on for me? And would they kill me after that? I had to take care of this man because I owed something to Eivor, he had taken me out of the dark dungeon and saved my life.. But Eivor didn't seem like a man who killed innocent women, since he got me out of there, he had been quite neutral, if not friendly, to me. I decided to follow them. Eivor walked by my side and we arrived at a large longship. The men helped Dag in and he sat down. Eivor stepped into the water and I followed him. The water was freezing and I got goose bumps. I pulled myself awkwardly into the boat and sat down next to Dag. I tore off a piece of my dress and folded it up.

“Here take it, press it on the wound. It will stop the bleeding temporarily. ”I held out the folded piece of cloth. He still looked at me suspiciously, but carefully slid his hand away from his wound. I immediately pressed it onto the open area, took his hand and pushed it onto the fabric.

"The wound looks bad, but I can manage it" I smiled at him and tried to give him some courage.

He just mumbled a little thank you and turned away.

I looked around and saw Eivor standing on the stern of the ship. The men took their places and hit the river bank with the huge rounds. We drove downhill and the abbey got smaller and smaller. By the gods, what exciting minutes those were.

"Are you scared?" I heard Eivor ask and he pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Well, you've just robbed an entire monastery of its soldiers and the treasures too. I was helpless and unarmed, and even with a weapon I would certainly not have been of great help. Of course I'm scared. I wonder what will happen after i helped Dag. ”I looked at Dag, who was watching me with a curious look.  I'd prefer to get out of this alive. ”I look at Eivor seriously.

"You really think that after I got you out of there and you helped my friend, i'm going to kill you?" He seemed amused. "I could kill you on the way to the river or leave you in the dungeon"

He was right about that. He was still smiling at me. Did he find the whole thing funny?

"What's your name anyway?" He asked.

"Ella, my name is Ella" I replied.

"Ella? You're not from England, are you? "

"No, neither are you," and I showed my sarcastic smile.

He laughed and agreed with me. I let my gaze wander over the water. The river was dark and the water was clear. The drive wasn't long and I saw a village approaching in the distance, but it wasn't really a village. It was more like a bunch of tents and run-down huts. The boat docked at the dock and the men began to heave the chest and boxes out of the ship. I climbed out of the boat and followed Eivor into the village. In the center was a large oak, the branches of which hung heavily. She looked just beautiful. Behind it you could have a look at a very large longhouse. It seemed well preserved. I suspect the northerners hadn't been here long. There were a lot of different people here. Men worked in the harbor, women chased their children around. We passed a house where a tall man was working on a sword.

"Ahh Eivor, back again? I hope you found something nice, ”he laughed.

“Gunnar! Yes, we found a lot, you are welcome to take a look at the longship. Dag is injured, we'll take him up to the longhouse. Ella ”he pointed to me“ will take a look at the wound ”

Gunnar’s gaze wandered from Eivor to me and a smile formed. He seemed like a warm man to me. “Welcome Ella! Nice to meet you! "

"Nice to meet you too" I replied with a smile.

Eivor and I said goodbye to Gunnar and went to the longhouse. As soon as we entered it, I noticed the long tables and the benches. At the end of the hall on an elevation stood a single chair. It was adorned with furs and appeared to belong to the leader. Where was he? Would he tolerate me here? If not, could Eivor prevent that? How high was his position here so that he could change the mind of the leader? Again I was torn from my thoughts. Dag sat down on a bench and Eivor called me over to him.

"What do you need for the wound?" He asked.

"I need a bowl of clean water and clean cloths, please," I knelt next to Dag and took the provisional wound pad from him. It was not bleeding as badly as before, but I should quickly make an envelope.

Eivor ordered one of the men to fetch the required utensils. He apologized and disappeared into the room behind the throne.

Dag was breathing hard, probably because of his pain. After a short time the man appeared with the requested materials and I started my work. I cleaned his wound and made a poultice that I put on him. “So that should be enough for now, but I would need a few more herbs to cleanse the wound and take some of the pain away from you. You shouldn't try so hard now. "

"Oh, I'm fine," said Dag, trying to get up, obviously in pain. But he slumped back on the bench. "Okay, maybe not"

He looks up at me and I raised an eyebrow.

"I told you"

"Yes, yes, I know," I heard him say grimly. "Thanks"

I looked down at him and nodded. "With pleasure"

I heard footsteps behind me and saw Eivor approaching us, accompanied by another Northman. He was tall, illegally tall. He was almost two heads taller than me, had rust-red hair that, like Eivor, wore in a long braid. There was a tattoo on his forehead, as well as on his shaved sides. He had a beard that was neatly trimmed. His eyes were a beautiful light blue-gray. They had something like bright rain clouds. I don't know how tosay it, but this man knew how to an appearance. I knew right away that this man was in charge here.

"Dag, you don't look really good," he patted Dag gently on the shoulder.

“I'm fine Sigurd, just a small stab wound. But thanks to Ella, that will soon be a thing of the past. He whispered and looked first at Sigurd and then at me.

Sigurd followed his gaze and now noticed me for the first time. His gaze made me shiver. A smile played on his lips. “Yes, Eivor mentioned you. Got you out of the abbey. I am Sigurd, the Jarl of Ravensthorpe, ”he said. "Thanks for helping Dag"

So he was actually the leader. The Jarl. I knew it.

“Eivor saved my life. I owed him something. And my name is Ella. ”I explained. "But I still have to treat the wound with herbs."

"Where do we get them from?" Eivor asked. I could hardly avert my gaze from Sigurd. He just looked impressively handsome.

“I have some in my hut. But I don't know whether it is still there. After the thing with the priest. ”I said, looking at Eivor.

“Where is your hut located? Is it far from here? ”He asked.

I told Eivor that my hut is near Grantebridge in Grantebridgescir, but that the Danes had been evicted there.

"I suppose my house was ransacked, but it would be worth a look." I look from Eivor to Sigurd and he clapped his hands.

"Well, off to Grantebridgescir!" He said to the group.

Eivor seemed confused and said: “Are you coming with us? Isn't it better if you stay here? "

Sigurd shook his head. "The more the better" and he looked at me with a grin. What was going on in his head right now? Eivor agreed, with the look from Sigurd to me and we made our way to the longship. We took the ship for a while and the crew sang a beautiful Nordic song. I didn't understand a word of what they were singing, but I thought it was very good. The landscape passed us. Green and Fresh. The sun warmed my face and I enjoyed the wind in my hair. Eivor and Sigurd were talking about something, but I couldn't hear what they were talking about. I watch them for a while until they both looked at me. I smiled and looked at the water, embarrassed to have been caught staring at them.

After what felt like an hour we arrived at the Scir and after a short time we were standing in front of my hut. If you could still call it a hut. The roof had burned down, the door kicked in, and the front yard trampled. It looked worse inside. Every chest and cupboard was cleared, items were scattered on the floor, and some of my notes were torn. I knelt next to a torn recipe and slowly picked it up. What kind of men rob a woman of all her possessions just because she helps people. This priest deserves what he got. I let my gaze wander around the room sadly. I didn't live here for long and I didn't build a real life here, but I had something and now that had been taken away from me. I tried to gather the remaining pages when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Eivor had knelt by me and was helping me collect the scraps of paper.

"I'm sorry about what happened here Ella," he said sincerely.

“It's okay, I wasn't really at home here. It's just a shame cause all of my recipes, but I can still use some of them. So it isn't that bad ”I assured him and gave him a grateful smile. He replied. It didn't seem as bad as I initially suspected. Where was Sigurd anyway? His presence makes me nervous and I didn't know why.

"Do you have what you need?" I heard Sigurd call from outside.

"We'll have it in a moment!" Replied Eivor and stood up to hand me the pages.

I folded it carefully and put it in the bag that i found in a corner of the room. Fortunately, it was still intact. I opened it and discovered dried herbs that I could still use for Dag’s wound. Unfortunately, the rest, including the one in the front yard, had been completely destroyed. Eivor had already gone outside and I looked around again. To say goodbye, I think, because I couldn't stay here. The Saxons would get me back and probably kill me right away. I looked one last time at the broken furniture and decided to go outside.

Eivor and Sigurd were talking when I stepped into the sunlight and they saw me, they both fell silent immediately.

"I have everything, we can go." I let them know, pulled the strap of my bag tighter around my shoulder and held it tight.

Both nodded. We were silent on the way to the ship, nobody said anything. Until Eivor broke the silence.

"Ella? Where will you go after you helped Dag? ”He asked.

That was a good question. Where should i go now? I had nothing left. No family, no friends and no home. I would probably have to look for work somewhere. so i don't have to sleep on the street.

"I dont know. I can't go back. The Saxons will look for me and then probably kill me. ”I said and my steps felt heavy.

"I see" Eivor stopped. “You know, Sigurd and I talked earlier. Our settlement is still young. We only got here 3 days ago and we could use a healer like you. You'd have a roof over your head and food in your stomach. In return you help the people in Ravensthorpe.

"What?" i looked surprised from him to Sigurd, who just nodded. I didn't know what to say. First he saved me and then he gave me a home. "I don't know what to say .."

Sigurd laughed and said, "How about yes?"

I had to smile and Eivor held out his hand. "Deal?"

I didn't think twice and accepted. Sigurd held out his hand to me and I took it too. When our hands touched, I could literally feel the sparks spray. My head was buzzing. It felt like I was in a different place. I saw golden fields of wheat, green meadows and I felt like i was at home. Then I was in a city, made by gods and a man held my hand. He smiled and then I was back on the river bank with Sigurd's hand in mine. I let go of him and looked at him. Did he just experience the same thing as me? His look said nothing, but something just happened between us. This is going to be interesting. I was sure.

[hot-wiings]

The Chapter Contains Enji Todoroki. If this makes you triggered, or uncomfortable don't proceed.

Edited: 5-18-20

#1. I Love How You Patch Me Up. 

You let out a sigh as you dabbed Touya Todoroki's eyebrow with a cotton ball. He hissed as the hydrogen peroxide soaked ball of cotton made contact with his skin, burning him as it cleaned out the cut.

"Sorry."

"Just stings."

Touya watched you from the spot where he sat on the barstool. You pulled your lip between your teeth and he knew you were upset. Upset that you had to make him sit through the extra pain of cleaning out his cuts with ointment and peroxide. 

You weren't just upset, but livid. Livid that his father would hurt him like this. Livid that his mother didn't step up and protect him. Most of all, you were livid that she wouldn't even stay around to clean him up, but rather left him to patch himself up.

Your heart hurt for Touya, it truly did. You knew what it was like to have your father, a respected man, lay a hand against you—that's how you originally met Touya in the first place.

You were both in a local drug store looking for peroxide and medical materials, the same day with the same purpose and reasons. You both happened to reach for the same bottle as if fate intended for you to meet. You ended up helping him patch himself up that day.

You carefully pressed a bandaid over Touya's eyebrow cut before moving onto a new one. Your eyes briefly flashed down to his teal orbs before going back to your task at hand.

"Why'd he get so angry this time?"

"I told my parents I wanted to apply to UA. Enji told me I wasn't cut out to be a hero, I disagreed."

"And your mother? What did she say."

"She didn't say anything... But I know she agrees with him."

Your hand pressed down harder on Touya's cut. Sensing your anger, Touya pulled your hand from his cut cheek to his mouth. Ignoring the pain from his busted lip, he kissed your tense knuckles.

"I hate them so much. I hate how he treats you. I hate how she doesn't stop it. She doesn't even try!"

"Can you really blame her? If she intervened then my busted face would be hers. If he didn't hit me, he would be hitting her."

"That's not how a mother should act. A mother would step in, a mother would protect you. You protect her so much, but she has never done shit for you."

"How would you know? You don't even have a mother." 

His comment deeply bothered you, but you knew that it didn't come out of malice but rather a defense. It didn't make it hurt any less, however, you didn't retaliate with words but actions. 

With a tight smile, you soak a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide and aggressively press Touya's lip with the substance. He winced, but he couldn't be mad. You would never hurt him on purpose, instead, you took out your anger by cleaning him up, something that you knew would hurt him but something that essentially needed to be done. 

"I'm sorry, that was mean." 

"It was."

"I just hate when you talk bad about her, she's not a bad person. He is, but she's not. She's sweet with Fuyumi and Natsou, it's just cause' I look so much like him. She thinks I'm just like him."

A tear falls down from Touya's pretty teal eyes. It dribbled down his cheek and mixed in with his cuts. You turned your own gaze to the ground, as you couldn't help but let a few of your own fall as well.

"You're not your father Touya." 

"You're right, I'm not my father. That's why it doesn't matter if I let him hurt me, cause' at least I know I'm not enabling a monster like him to hurt my mom."

Touya slips his arms around your waist and pulls you closer between his legs. He used his hand to tilt your chin up making you look him in the eyes as his other hand traced circles into the bare skin of your hip above your jeans.

"I wish we could just get away from them all." 

Touya let his head rest against your chest and he softy murmured into your skin as you ran your fingers through his bright orange locks.  

"One day I'm leaving and I'm not coming back. You'll come with me, right?"

Your lips quirked up into a small smile. You leaned your neck down and kissed the top of Touya's head.

"Of course. After all, you'd be hopeless without your unlicensed doctor."

"I think you meant my pretty, unlicensed doctor." 

Touya could still feel the heat from your kiss on his head, lingering and begging for more. It was then in that moment as you patched up his wounds that he realized how he really felt about you. He really wanted to say those three unspoken words, the words he was so cautious about handing out, but he didn't. Instead, he held his best friend and let her patch up his face. 

#2. I Love How You Won’t Let Me Go. (Even When I Push You Away.)

He knew what he was doing was horrible. He knew what he was doing was going to break your heart. He was doing the worst thing. It would be like stabbing you in the chest and twisting the knife. 

Touya Todoroki knew what he was doing would hurt you, but that didn't stop him from packing his bag with any essential items he would need. He knew it would hurt you, but that didn't stop him from discreetly leaving you a heartfelt goodbye letter in your mailbox before he headed off to school. 

He knew it would hurt you, but that didn't stop him from walking to the nearest bus stop right after school got out. He knew it would hurt you, but he still bought a ticket to the farthest destination anybody would look for him, a ticket he bought a week in advance from his departure date. 

He knew it would hurt, yet he still attempted to go through with it. What he hadn't expected was to see you standing there at the bus stop when he arrived. He hadn't expected to see you, arms crossed with a furious look spread across your face. 

"Were you really going to leave?" 

His eyes flowed from the scorned look of betrayal on your face down to your hand which held the letter he left in your mailbox. It was bunched up in your fist and your knuckles were white from clenching it so hard.

He could see the tears building up at your eyes, and his chest felt heavy with regret. He pulled on the arm straps of his backpack tighter. He was scared of hurting you. He was careful to choose his next words, wary of breaking you even more. 

"How did you even get from school to home to here so fast?" 

"Maybe if you hadn't been avoiding me like the black plague, you would've known that I was absent from school today." 

"Why were you absent? Did your father-"

"Don't. Don't ask about my father. You don't have that right, not after you broke your promise." 

The tears started dribbling down your cheeks and you looked up at the sky to avoid looking at him with your blurry tear-filled orbs. 

"You promised. You promised that you would take me with you. You said we’d escape our parents together… But you were going to leave without me. You weren't even going to give me an actual goodbye."

Your voice sounded quiet and simply broken. The tone you used with him was hurt and lifeless. He wished you would scream, he wished you would yell. Anything would be better than the broken tone you held. Anything would be better than the broken tone he caused. 

"How could I take you with me? I'd just be dragging you down."

Touya took a deep breath and closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the words he had to say to you. 

"You wanna know why I got so distant? My mom got put in a mental institute and our last conversation was her telling me I was gonna end up just like Enji. I can't be anywhere near you. I won't let myself treat you like he treats people." 

Touya made the motion to turn as his tears started to leak down his eyes. He started to turn away from you, letting his last words to you serve as a goodbye. You quickly grabbed onto his arm, stopping him and pulling him back. You would not let him go, not like this. 

“I'm not a good person, [Y/N], it's better if I just leave." 

"I will not let you walk away from me, I will not let you walk away from the past seven years. If you can look me in the eyes and truthfully say our friendship has meant nothing, that I have meant nothing to you, then I'll let you walk away." 

“That's not fair. I could never say that to you. I'm not leaving because of you. I'm leaving for you. For fuck's sake! If my own mother, my flesh and blood, couldn't love me then no one can. I'd just drive you insane.”

“That's bullshit! Cause' I love you, and I'll always love you." 

The thing you so belligerently tried to keep from your best friend was out in the open. You felt naked and vulnerable now that the words were out of your mouth.

"You love me?" 

His voice sounded so hesitant and scared of the answer. He looked at you but you were looking at the ground, scared to meet his eyes. You took a deep breath before divulging in the secret you kept so well. 

"You’re the reason I have the strength to wake up every day despite knowing what's in store with my dad. You make it worthwhile every day when I see you in school, you make me feel like I'm actually important. I love you, I've always loved you... And if you still want to leave despite knowing that, then just leave.”

Touya cupped your cheeks in his hands and tilted your face up, forcing you to look up at him. His hands on your cheeks felt warm, you wished for nothing more than to stay like that. 

“You always take time out of your day for me. Whether it's homework, an injury, or just to ask me about my day, you're there. You’ve never once got disgusted by my scars. I think I love you more than I value my own life and that scares me.”

Touya pressed his lips against yours. They felt warm and soft. You could smell his distinct scent of ash from his quirk. Words could not describe the way you loved the way ash smelt on him.   

“But I can't stay with a family who hates me. Come with me doll. Leave your shitty dad and come with me.”  

“Touya, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth if it meant being with you.”

#3. I Love How You Don’t Judge Me.

With a grocery bag in his hand, Touya unlocked the door to the dingy motel room you had been staying in together. It wasn't much, but it wasn't somewhere someone would think to look for the son of the famous hero Endeavor. It wasn't much, but you didn't care as long as he was with you. 

Touya locked the door behind him before walking further into the motel room and dropping the grocery bags at the foot of the bed where you laid reading a book. You looked up from your book and smiled at Touya. 

“Hey there.”

Touya leaned down to your face and pressed his lips against yours, giving you a quick chaste kiss. 

“Hi.” 

"What’d you get at the store?” 

“I got some instant ramen.”

“Same as yesterday, yummy.” 

You picked up the grocery bag and carried it to the tiny microwave that the motel had provided in every room. 

“Instant ramen in a rundown motel room. I'm sorry, I know it's not ideal.” 

You turned your head to the side to look at Touya. A smile played on your lips as you made eye contact with him. 

“I knew what I was signing up for when I came with you, besides, I like instant ramen.”   

You added water to the containers and popped the ramen inside the microwave before pressing on the right buttons to turn it on. Touya came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. He gave you another chaste kiss, this time on the side of your temple. 

“Will you dye my hair?”

“Really? I really like your orange hair.” 

You turned around in Touya's arms and looked him in the eyes to see if he was serious. It was so out of the blue, he had never had any interest in dying his hair before. As you ran your hands through his orange locks it wasn’t hard to guess what was going through his head. He was a spitting image of Enji. 

“I have a job interview tomorrow, but I don't wanna go to it like this. I don't wanna go to it looking like a younger version of him. I want a whole new identity.”

“I really like your orange hair, but I'll love you no matter what hair color you've got.”

You walked over to the second grocery bag Touya had brought home and pulled out the black hair dye. You ripped the box open as Touya took a seat on a wooden chair in front of you. You ripped open the powders and dumped the powdered dye into the liquid chemical bottle before placing a lid on it and shaking it up. 

“Tip your head back.” 

You ran your fingers through his hair and applied the dye thoroughly as you rubbed it in his roots. You made sure not to leave a single inch of orange hair untouched. 

You washed your hands and set a timer on your phone before retrieving your ramen bowls from the microwave and placing one in front of him and taking your place in the chair across from him. 

“Thank you, doll.”

“Of course babe. I just hope it takes to your hair well, orange hair can be unpredictable when dyeing. We might have to go to the store and get another box.” 

Touya sat there with you, happily eating away at the ramen you cooked for him. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when you asked the question he dreaded you asking. 

“What's the job interview for?” 

Touya bit down on his lip as he debated whether or not he should tell you. If he honestly told you what the job was, then you might get mad. On the other hand, he wanted to have an honest relationship with you. 

“It’s for a position in the league of villains.” 

You stared at him speechlessly as the timer went off on your phone. He wasn't sure what to make of your expression. You didn't look mad, or angry, but you didn't look happy or pleased either. Despite being best friends for most of your lives, Touya couldn't identify your expression. Not being able to tell what you were feeling made Touya nervous.  

“You should wash your hair.”

“[Y/N]-”

“Go wash your hair before it falls out!”

He knew you were angry. He thought you were. You had to be. So instead of staying to talk it out, he retreated to the bathroom to wash out the chemicals as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. Each minute that passed felt like years to the both of you. 

After what felt like a millennium, Touya emerged from the bathroom with a now black stained towel in his hand. You took a deep breath before smiling at your lover as he walked closer to you.

“You want to be a villain?” 

“I- I know you're upset and disappointed, but I can't be a hero. I can't be that heroic guy you want and need. You can judge me all you want, but I can't be that.”

“Oh, baby… I would never judge you.” 

You reached up and grabbed Touya by the sides of his head. With your thumbs, you wiped away the tears that had begun making their way down his cheeks and you gently pulled his face down to yours. Touya got on his knees and wrapped his arms around you as you cradle his face on your chest. 

“I’m not upset, or disappointed either. You want a new identity, I understand that. I literally just dyed your hair, I'll even help you pick a new name. I was just shocked to hear you say, villain.” 

“I can't be a hero [Y/N], they're so corrupt. I- I can't be someone like Enji. He was a hero and he was a bastard. I'm sorry if you hate me for this but I can't be someone like that.” 

“Hey, I said I wasn't gonna judge you, and that meant I wouldn't ever hate you either. It just scares me. Hero or villain, it's a risky occupation.”

You run your fingers through Touya's newly black damp hair. It felt nice to him and it did miracles to soothe his tears. There were countless times where he found himself in this exact spot growing up, usually after he and Enji had a fight. 

“It's a risky occupation. But hey, if you get to do something dangerous, then I can too.” 

“[Y/N].”

“If you're joining the villains, then I am too. Who else will bandage up your wounds properly? Somebody's gotta keep you alive.”

Touya pressed his lips against yours. This kiss wasn't a chaste one like earlier, but one of longing and want. It was filled with lust and passion and hunger. 

“Okay, we’ll do it together.” 

#4. I Love How You Reassure me. 

You sat on the closed edge of the toilet in your shared apartment as you stared down at the tiny thin stick in your hands. You were nervous and your whole body was tense as you stared at the stick with anticipation as you waited for the timer on your phone to go off.

Every passing minute felt like decades and with every passing second, the pounding of your heartbeat got faster. The timer beeped and you looked at the stick for the results. Two lines were present signifying positive. 

The tears sprang from your eyes. You weren't sure what the appropriate response should have been but the whole situation left you feeling overwhelmed. What kind of lifestyle would you be bringing a child into? You were a villain now, and although you worked for the league of villains in a more medical aspect, your lover, the father of the baby, held a big role for the league of villains. 

Occupations set aside, you weren't even married, nor did you and Dabi, the name Touya was going by these days, had much knowledge on how to raise a child. Yet the more you thought about how you carried something so precious in your womb brought a soft smile to your face. The more you thought of raising a child with Dabi, you felt better and more secure. 

You heard keys jingling in the apartment doorknob followed by the sound of boots coming in the doorway and you could soon hear Dabi's deep voice resounding throughout the house.

"Sweetheart? I'm home."

You started to panic as you heard him walk closer to the bathroom. Should you hide the test, or just tell it to him straight? There was a slightly unsettling feeling in your stomach that Dabi wouldn't be happy about the predicament, but you had an open and honest relationship with Dabi. 

The door to the bathroom was pushed open and Dabi made his way inside ready to scold you. 

"You're sick, you should be resting in bed." 

Being sick was just an excuse to take a day off from league work to slip away and buy your pregnancy test. To be fair, you were sick earlier due to morning sickness.

"I'm feeling better now, and, I uh, I have something for you." 

You looked at the ground and ran one hand through your hair nervously as you used your other hand to push the pregnancy test into his hand. He took it, not even realizing what it was. Not even realizing how that tiny stick would impact his life. It didn't take him long to realize what it was as he looked down at the pink stick with two red lines.

"This a pregnancy stick."

"Yeah." 

"Two lines. Is that positive?" 

"Well, I wouldn't be giving you a pregnancy test if it was negative, would I?"

Dabi numbly took a seat on the edge of the bathtub across from you. To Dabi, children were not in the life plan, he never even let himself entertain the thought of kids. Sure, you were financially better than when you first left home together, rather than bouncing from dingy motel to motel you lived in a nice apartment, but you were both barely over twenty-one, your career choice was villainy, not to mention you both never had the best example of what a parent should be. 

"It has to be wrong, we've been careful. You- you can't be pregnant."

Your eyes which had been trained on the floor finally looked up and met Dabi's orbs. You knew he might not want your baby, but you hadn't expected him to look so distraught and sick about it. 

"Well I am, and I'm not aborting. This child is a part of you and me, I won't abort them." 

"We can't raise a child." 

"I can raise a child, what you mean is that you don't want to raise a child together." 

"I didn't say I don't want to, I said I can't." 

A tear dribbled down Dabi's cheek. You pulled him off the edge of the bathtub, onto his knees with his head against your chest. His comfort space, the space he would always find himself crying as he grew up. You ran your hand through Dabi's raven dyed hair, your signature move to quell his tears. 

"I know what you're thinkin' and it's not true. You're not gonna be like him, you're not him."

"He's always going to be biologically a part of me. He was a shit dad and a shit husband. I don't wanna be like him."

"Just cause he's your dad, doesn't mean your gonna be like him. You're a good man and you'll be a great dad. You're not gonna hurt me, or this baby. You won't be like Enji." 

Dabi slid his head from your chest to your stomach. A smile made its way across his stapled face as he let himself entertain the domestic thought of having a family with you. 

"If we're having a baby then we might wanna look for a bigger apartment."

#5. I Love Everything You Create. 

Dabi leaned over the sleek black bassinet and peered down. His precious baby lay there sound asleep. She had trademark teal blue eyes like his, but your nose. although she looked very distinctly you, she had red hair from Dabi. Although it was very Todoroki like, he didn't care. He didn't care that it tied him to Enji because it also tied her to himself and you. She was his baby, his pride and joy. She was the greatest gift you could have given him. She was his and yours to cherish and love, he wouldn't give that up for anything.

The baby began to stir and Dabi hesitated as he looked at her. Sometimes she would just fall back to sleep, but today was not one of those days. Her little cries began to start and Dabi swooped her up into his arms. With her head against his shoulder, he carefully swayed her back and forth immediately quelling her cries.

She didn't fall back to sleep but she laid there quietly in his arms. She was just a little over a year old but she was already a daddy's girl.

"You hungry?"

Dabi smiled as he heard Akari's little excited gurgles and giggles. He carried her down to the kitchen and pulled out a container of baby food from the fridge. Before quickly tossing it in the microwave.

Dabi pulled Akari closer to his chest and away from his shoulder so he could move around and do things in the house while securely holding her. Akari, deciding she wants more attention, pulls her hands towards her father's face and yanks on one of his staples.

"Ah."

Dabi swiftly put Akari in her baby high chair before grabbing a towel and wiping his face to get rid of the small blood that came along with the staple.

"Da! Da!"

Dabi weakly smiled in his daughter's direction as to not worry or frighten her. This wasn't the first time she had pulled his staples out, but it didn't hurt any less with each time she did it. Once the bleeding let up Dabi tossed the towel on the counter and picked Akari back up, giving Akari the attention she was trying to get.

"You're daddy's little menace, aren't you? Huh?"

Akari giggled and buried her face in Dabi's neck, it sent a smile onto Dabi's face. She was so perfect and every second he spent with her he couldn't understand why Enji ever treated him and his siblings the way he had. When he held Akari all that came to his mind was how he would do anything to protect her. Her and you. All he could think about was how precious and special you both were to him.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

Dabi turned his head to the side to see you leaning against the doorway. Your head was all over the place due to bed head and you wore Dabi's oversized t-shirt and a pair of jogging pants. You looked completely frumpy but to Dabi, you were nothing less than perfect.

"I wanted to let you sleep in."

"I enjoyed the sleep, but I'd rather have been up with my lovelies."

You walked over to Dabi and Akari. You dipped your head down to hers and kissed her head before leaning up to kiss Dabi, you stopped midway as you saw his cheek. You brought your hand up and creased his cheek.

"Did she pull your staple out again?"

"Yeah. She's got a mean steak, I still think we should have named her Void."

You reached into the cupboard to pull out a bandaid to patch your lover up.

"Void is such a bad name, so was Winslow."

You took the wrapper off the bandaid and pressed it against Dabi's face. He gave you a soft smile as he placed his hand over your hand that was on his cheek.

"I'm glad you married me, you know that right? I know we did it cause' you were pregnant, but I wouldn't change it."

You pressed your lips against Dabi's briefly before pulling away and smiling at him.

"You and Akari are everything to me. I love you, and everything you've given me. I wouldn't change it, and I wouldn't trade it for anything."

[omigiry]

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫

Miya Atsumu

synopsis: Crown prince Atsumu needs to decide who will he pick to be the official crown princess, but the lady he wants is facing her own dilemma.

Notes:

Royalty AU

Fluff

POV: Third person (she/her)

wc: 4.1K

ry’s notes: for plot convenience i did not put any love rivals. it was already long without it, even though i have contemplated whether i’d put one or not, but i ended up not to. hope you enjoooy ~~  ♡ ♡ ♡

Sweat drops on (y/n)’s forehead as she swung her sword to attack the dummy in front of her. The moon serves as her light along three lamp posts on the training ground. She could feel her arms getting tired from the weight of the sword. She tried handling the swords the knight usually uses, but she couldn’t do it if her brother, Kita Shinsuke, or her father was around; they did not allow her since she is still a lady. 

“It’s dangerous for a lady to be out at this hour.” A familiar voice said.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the crown prince making his way towards her.

“And why is the prince strolling around at this hour of the night too?” 

“I needed some fresh air.” Atsumu said and leaned on the dummy. They knew each other ever since they were little because of the loyalty of (y/n)’s family lineage to the throne. His father is the head of the first squadron of the royal family and his brother will be the one taking over.

The king has taken a liking towards (y/n) as he watches her grow up into a wonderful lady. Both of the family have agreed for her to be the crown princess and betrothed to Atsumu since he was the oldest among the twins. After hearing this news on her 8th birthday, she doesn’t know how to react. An 8 year old doesn't know what she wants to be yet so she followed along. As (y/n) grew up she admired the swordsmanship of his father and brother and wanted to be a knight herself as well. 

At the age of 10 she talked to her family about what she wanted. Her mother almost fainted when she told them that she wanted to be a knight. Her mother dotes on her that she doesn’t want her hands to be rough through hard labor. On the other hand Shinsuke and her father were swelling with joy, but her father couldn’t help but worry as well since she was the youngest and only daughter of the family. Not only that, the crown princess couldn’t be a knight. 

They couldn’t stop her, so they had allowed her to practice basic swordsmanship. She practiced together with Atsumu and Osamu with her brother supervising. Sometimes she would practice with the first squadron and she was babied by all of them, they were treating her with extra care as if she was glass. 

“What brings you here? You know if my father and Shinsuke saw you on our grounds they would not hesitate to chase you away even if you’re the prince.” She said as she put the sword back in its scabbard.

“Do they even know you’re here? I’d bet you just sneak around at night too.”

“Touché” (y/n) said and glared at him. She went closer to him and both of them sat at the ground. Despite what their parents had arranged, they remained good friends to each other. Though it mostly consists of sarcastic and snarky exchanges in every conversation they had, they did share deep conversations once in a while when one of them is bothered. 

“You’re turning 18 already.” Atsumu pointed out. When (y/n) told his father that she wanted to be a knight, it honestly gave the king a headache. Nevertheless, being able to see (y/n)’s passion and also leadership skills during her training made the king to not easily give up on the lady. She was the perfect queen for the kingdom in the future. 

“Yes. Is the king still thinking on who to crown as the princess?”

“Every night.” Atsumu would be lying if he said that he didn’t want (y/n) to be his princess. “Why did you want to be a knight?”

“I want to fight as well, I do not want to be protected. I want to protect the people I care about.” There were other females who are knights as well, so it wasn’t against the law of the kingdom, the only hindrance is that she’s to be crowned. By her proclamation of wanting to be a knight the Aristocrats and Imperialists had a long meeting regarding the matter. The best decision was to have candidates for the position of crown princess. 

“Don’t you have a meeting with some of the candidates tomorrow?” She asked. She was also scheduled to have tea with him giving equal chances to talk with the prince, but she had an advantage since she grew up with the prince. 

Atsumu sighed as he thought about the busy schedule ahead. “Yeah, it’s honestly tiring.”

“Osamu has it worse than you. Especially trying to cover for you when you sneak out.” 

“Hey! I cover for him too.” 

“Sure you do.” She said sarcastically and rolled her eyes. 

“You wound me, my lady.” He clutched his left chest and acted as if he was stabbed in the heart. 

“I’m honestly concerned for the future of the kingdom on the day of your coronation as king.” 

“Then be my queen if you’re that concerned.” 

“Nice try, but try again.” It was normal for Atsumu to be flirty towards her, thinking that it was only a joke. She would always brush off every flirty comment that came out of his mouth, but she doesn’t mind it at all since she was used to it. 

“Well, it’s getting late. I should go back now before my father and Shinsuke notice that I’m gone.” She stood up and brushed off the dirt from her pants and Atsumu followed.

“Good night, my lady.” 

(y/n) was roaming around the palace ground as she waited for her turn to be alone with the prince for their afternoon tea. Suddenly, she was pulled into the corner of the hallways and pressed against the wall with a hand cupping her mouth. She saw Atsumu towering over her figure as he looked around if anyone was there. 

(y/n) glared at him for his rash actions. 

When Atsumu made sure that no one was there, he removed his hand and smiled sheepishly at him. 

“Did you sneak out again?” (y/n) said, crossing her arms together and raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I was getting bored. All of them didn’t talk much, I could tell that they’re trying to put a good image in hopes I’ll choose them.” 

“Atsumu, you need to take this seriously. Your coming of age birthday celebration is only a month away.”

“I am taking this seriously, I already made my decision.” 

(y/n) was surprised that he already had decided, as far as she knows this is only the third time meeting every candidate. “That’s good then.” She simply said. Am I out of the choices?

“Aren’t you curious on who I picked?” Atsumu chided, noticing the change of expression. 

“No, it’s your life so it doesn’t affect me.” 

“But your opinion matters. I want to know, from a lady’s perspective, if the one I picked is perfect.” He tested the waters to see if her mood will change again.

“No one is perfect, Atsumu. All of us make mistakes and have flaws.”

He dismissed her comment and described the lady of his choice. “Well, she’s strong, wise, she’s clothed in dignity. She takes pride in her family name, and she will do everything to protect the ones she loves. She might be timid on the outside, but once that wall breaks she’s playful and charming.” 

“Sounds like a great lady.” She simply stated, turning her back to him. “You should return now. I’ll be meeting Shinsuke.” 

She walked away from him not looking back. Atsumu leaned on the wall as he watched her, a smile forming on his lips. Well, this is intriguing. 

She wouldn’t admit that she felt a little jealous when Atsumu talked about the girl he chose. Whatever it is, it won’t affect her, but she couldn’t deny that she felt aggravated when he talked about her. 

The little voice in her head tells her that she’s already in love with the prince.

No way. Me? In love with him? 

Her face morphs into a frown as she dwells in the idea of her being in love with Atsumu. It’s not that she hates him, they grew up together so she tolerates his presence. It’s just that the way he’d always act so playful and carefree towards her made her feel things she doesn’t know how to address. 

He would always do something unexpected. Like that one time she almost fell out of balance when they were training, he’d used his body to take the impact as she fell to the ground. Or that one time when she sprained her wrist from excessive training that she’d hidden from her family, he was the one who aided her. 

No, I won’t say I’m in love with him. She denied one more time, but the smile on her face says otherwise as she reminisces the time they spent together when they were younger. 

“(y/n)?” Shinsuke knocked on his sister’s door and called out to her. She was turning 18 tomorrow and she needs to make a decision if she’ll be a knight or officially be the crown princess. 

“Come in!”

Shinsuke entered and saw his sister doing paperwork. When she turned 16 she became a squire and she’s been in charge with reports. 

“How are you?” 

“I’m doing fine.” 

“Have you made a decision?” 

(y/n) let an audible sigh as she placed down her pen and looked at her brother. 

“Do you like Prince Atsumu?” At the question (y/n) bowed her head down. “I know you take pride in our family name and want to be a knight like us, but if your feelings for Atsumu weigh more, you know what to do.” She hates it when Shinsuke reads her like an open book. 

“I know. I really love what I’m doing and I have made a name for myself, I’m not just someone who is the prince’s soon to be princess.” All her life she had been molded to be a lady fit for the throne, even if she was training as a knight. Everyone already knows that she was favored. 

Shinsuke sat at her bed and she followed him. “We’re really proud of your achievements and how you grew up. Whatever you choose, we will gladly support you. You also don’t have to worry about us, you have a reliable big brother right here.” 

(y/n) leaned on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort her brother brings. Being the youngest, she would see how her father and brother protects the family and honor, and how her mother handles her business as well. It also means that she grew up being pampered, it felt like she doesn’t have a role in the family, always being the one they guard. She doesn’t want to look meek in the eyes of others. 

“Thank you, Shinsuke.” They’d talk until (y/n) felt sleepy, updating each other about their recent things that had happened between them. 

Atsumu was up all night. (y/n) was turning 18 tomorrow, and if she’s still undecided he might talk to his father to give it some more time until his coming of age party. He doesn’t even mind if he waits for another year. Whenever (y/n)’s ready to decide and whatever her choice is, he is willing to wait. 

It’s just that the circumstances don't allow them. If he wasn’t the crown prince it wouldn’t be that hard. He tried to convince Osamu to be the one to take up the crown when he learned that (y/n) wants to be a knight. 

The only good thing about her being a knight is that she would be in the castle more often. But if she chose to be his princess it would be better, since she would be staying at the castle to learn more about the kingdom. 

He stared at the ceiling as he formulates a series of plans for whatever possible situations that could happen tomorrow. 

Atsumu didn’t know when he started falling in love with her, but all he could remember was when he held her hand and he didn't want to let it go. He wanted to keep her hands soft and delicate, he doesn’t want to let her experience the hardships.

You could rely on me to protect you and your family. You don’t have to do it yourself.

On the day of (y/n)’s birthday, Atsumu was stunned by her dazzling appearance. His father has gifted her a head dress that she wore almost identical to the crown, clearly showing how she was still the first choice among the other candidates. In his opinion the whole getting to know other potential crown princesses was really pointless when clearly he and his father was already certain who rightfully deserves it.

“May I have a dance with the most beautiful lady among us commoners?” Atsumu bowed and held out his hand.

“I’m surprised you can call yourself a commoner.” (y/n) jested. She took his hand and Atsumu led them to the middle of the ballroom, he wanted to show her off. 

“You look wonderful.” He complimented as they swayed together. The years of practice of dancing made it easier for them to talk. 

“Thanks.” She simply replied and smiled at him.

“Why don’t we just run away and ignore our responsibilities?” Atsumu suggested.

“As if you could even do so.” Atsumu may have a playful character who loves to sneak around but he takes his position seriously and brings results beyond expectations. 

“Is that a challenge, my lady?”

(y/n) quirked her eyebrow. “What if it is?”

“As if you could leave your loved ones behind.” 

“Touché.” 

After the party, the King called for a private meeting with her. She already knows what they would talk about. 

“Have you made your decision yet, young lady?” 

“I’m sorry, your highness but --” She wasn’t able to finish the sentence when the door opened and Atsumu came barging in. The king was clearly not pleased at Atsumu’s sudden entrance. 

“Father, please extend the time given. After all, the final decision would happen on my coming of age birthday.” He pleaded. The king gave his son a stern look clearly implying that he will face consequences for intruding. “Please, father. Just a few more weeks. Whatever her decision might be, I’ll respect it.”

(y/n) looked at Atsumu and saw desperation in his eyes. She was confused, she thought that he had already chosen someone. Why was he extending her time?

“Lady (y/n)?” The king turned to her waiting for her response.

“If the Prince wishes so, then I will agree.” She said. She didn’t know why she said that, but she felt relieved when Atsumu requested for extension on her behalf. 

“Very well. By Atsumu’s coming of age banquet, you should have your decision already. We cannot prolong this any longer.”

(y/n) bowed down and pardoned herself for the trouble, then the king dismissed her saying that he would like to talk with his son in private.

After that meeting, (y/n) was avoiding Atsumu in the castle grounds for days. She has come to terms that she was indeed in love with him, maybe this was the reason why she was purposefully avoiding his usual routes. I won’t give him the pleasure of finding out that I’m in love with him, he’d probably wouldn’t let it pass by easily. 

Atsumu’s banquet was only three days away. He’s been in a bitter mood when (y/n) would avoid him. You think you’re slick? If you’re avoiding me then I’ll just have to see you myself then. He planned to sneak out again late at night and visit her. 

“Where are you going at this time again?” Osamu asked when he caught Atsumu carefully walking down the hallways. 

“Be quiet.” Atsumu said. “I’m going to visit my lady tonight.”

Osamu gave him a disapproving look. “If Shinsuke caught you he won’t hesitate to hit you even though you’re the crown prince.” 

“That’s why I’m sneaking in.”

“I’m amazed at how stupid your ideas can get at some point.” Osamu sighed and felt a coming headache. He knows that he couldn’t stop his brother no matter what. Besides he also wants (y/n) to be part of the family. Though he wouldn’t say to Atsumu that he’s willing to cover up for him.

Now that Atsumu was in her family’s home, he doesn’t know where to start looking. He expected to see her at the training grounds but she wasn’t there. He hoped that she wasn’t in her room, that would make the situation hard, but he would still think of ways to see her even if that was the case. 

As he walked around the south area of their house, he finally spotted her in the garden sitting next to a tree. He cautiously moved closer to her hoping that she wouldn’t notice him.

When he was close enough, (y/n) quickly turned around with a small dagger in her hand pointing it close to his neck. Atsumu almost yelled at her sudden defensive stance, his eyes widened and cold sweat formed in his forehead.

(y/n) was clearly surprised when she realized it was Atsumu. “What the hell are you doing here?” she gritted as she dropped the dagger. 

“What are you doing with a dagger?” Atsumu hissed back at her.

“For self-defense, for situations just like what you did a few seconds ago.” Atsumu couldn’t reply back to her response, it was his fault either way. 

“I came here to see you, you’ve been avoiding me.” He said. He sat down and leaned on the tree.

“Well, it’s getting late. I’ll go back inside now.” (y/n) said and was about to walk away when Atsumu grabbed a hold of her hand and pulled her to sit next to him.

“No, you’re not getting away this time.” He acted on impulse and wrapped his arms around her. “Though it may be disrespectful for me to act like this, but no way you’re going to escape.”

“Alright, I won’t go anywhere, so you better let go now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Slowly, Atsumu removed his embrace already missing the feel of it. 

“Care to tell me why you’re avoiding me?” 

“I wasn’t.” (y/n) denied and tried her best not to meet his eyes, but Atsumu was persistent as he leaned down and tilted his head to catch a glimpse of it. “I just got busy, that’s all.”

“Liar.” He claimed. “Look me in the eye, my lady.” 

(y/n) slowly shifts her gaze to meet his. Once it did, Atsumu gave her a wide smile where his eyes crinkle into slits. “There we go. Now tell me, why are you ignoring me?” 

She let out a sigh. Atsumu can be very persistent if he really wanted to know and would not give up until he got an answer. “It’s kinda unfair for the other noble ladies. I always get more chances to be with you since we grew up together.” Excuses.

“You’re not really going to tell me honestly? Fine. I’ll not push the subject.” Atsumu said.

How can he see through me like that? Am I getting easy to read?

“But.” He continued. “Stay with me for a little while. I miss talking with you.” 

(y/n) nodded and relaxed herself. It was silent for some time, both of them just gazing at the starry night above them. She could feel Atsumu’s peaceful breathing next to her. It was a comforting atmosphere. 

“You know. I always wonder what it feels like to be just a noble or even a commoner. No responsibilities whatsoever, I could easily marry the girl I want, no sneaking out at this hour.” Atsumu started to ramble, breaking the silence.

She turned to him, bracing her knees closer to her chest and rested her chin on top of it. “Well, I think it’s not much of a difference. Sure the responsibilities would be different. But we still have a role to play. Also, love doesn’t come easy, there would always be sacrifices you have to make and obstacles ahead.” 

“Hmm. You got a point. Life, in general, isn’t easy.” 

“Do you not want to be the King?”

“I had thought about it, but as I grew up I learned to appreciate the role.” 

They continued to talk about random topics, from serious to something funny. Atsumu was so carefree that it was also affecting (y/n), whenever he laughed she would also laugh. And maybe it was because of the moment they were sharing right now, or maybe it was how beautiful the night sky is, maybe it was how Atsumu’s eyes sparkled under the moonlight, she just found herself leaning closer and kissed his cheeks. Atsumu had stopped laughing when he felt the feather light kiss she did.

Registering what she had done, she immediately pulled back and blinked away in surprise. Atsumu turned to her and looked into her eyes, mirroring her expression. 

“(y/n)?” His voice was a whisper but it was loud in her ears like it was echoing. She felt her cheeks heats up and blood was rushing through her head. 

“I, it’s getting late. I gotta go now.” She stuttered and quickly stood up. 

Atsumu was quick to act and grabbed a hold of her hands once again. “What did that kiss mean? You just don’t go kissing someone, (y/n).” He interrogated. 

She hid her face by looking to the other side, hoping that her hair would mask her expression well. 

“Do you love me, my lady?” He asked as he took a step closer to her, squeezing her hand hoping that she would get the message and look at him. 

“No…” She replied, but her tone was unsure.

“You seem to have formed a habit of lying. That’s not good.” He teased. The shade of pink in her cheeks, how she was not trying to pull away, how she was acting shy and flustered all of the sudden, was enough of a sign for Atsumu to know. 

“I love you, my lady. Only you.” Atsumu said and kissed her hand before he let go of it. “You should go home now. I’ll see you in two days.” 

As he was walking away, he was slowing down to hear if she'd say something. Though there might already be a distance between them, he would not miss the sound of her voice even if it was only a whisper in the air. 

“I love you too.”

Atsumu felt his heart swell in joy. He tried to hold himself back from running to her and to spin her around as he declared his love for her again and again. 

“Good night, my princess.”

“So, did you make a decision already?” The king asked again. He ordered them to meet before the banquet started. 

“Yes, your majesty.” 

“Care to tell me now?” 

“I love being a knight.��� She paused, she suddenly felt shy about telling her out loud. When she and her family talked about it, it was honestly harder than the first time she was holding a real sword. But it felt nice to be honest towards her feelings, everything felt clearer. “But I love Atsumu more, that I’m willing to give up being a knight.” She finally said, every word that left her mouth gets quieter.

“I’m happy to welcome you in the family, I know it was unfair for the other noble ladies, but I have always favored you from the very beginning. I’m sure you can still use your skills you learned as a knight some day.” He gave her a fatherly smile that she hasn’t seen in so long, he would always smile at her like that when she was a little kid.

The king dismissed her and she bowed down in return. 

Atsumu asked (y/n) to dance, his smile couldn’t be contained. It wasn’t because of the banquet, or the people that had greeted him, or the gifts he received, it was because of the lady he’s holding right now. 

“My princess.” Atsumu lovingly said. 

“Shut up. It’s not yet officially announced.” She said and glared at him. 

“Well we could always whisper in the air our declaration of love.” 

“Speak one more time, and I’ll change my mind.”

“You can’t do that. Father already knows, so you can’t just take back what you said to him.”

 She rolled her eyes at him and did not reply. He pulled her closer to him and continued to lead her in the dance. His eyes transfixed on hers and she averted her gaze, feeling embarrassed at how he looked at her. 

Atsumu tuned out the rest of the crowd as he only focused on her, everything felt complete. It was worth the agonizing wait.

[winterscaptain]

and the last one for now (till we get more of the 100 arc) - we kinda need a director's cut on enough? 🥺 (BECAUSE YOU SPOIL US WITH SHOWING HIS RECOVERY).

anything for you my love! (i have a LOT of these coming, so i’ll queue them up through the rest of the week :))

commentary in bold italics because i cant figure out how to do the fancy colors

You knock on his door, takeout in your hand. “It’s me!”

After a minute of silence on the other side of the door, you take your keys out of your pocket and start to open the door. “Don’t shoot me. I’m using my keys.” You move to open it, and the chain is in place. 

Okay I just love the fact that they have a key to his apartment?? After everything he’s been through and how unsafe he feels in his home? I’m soft. 

Damn it, Aaron. 

Then - 

Is he okay?

The transition to light panic here was really important to me - I wanted to establish right away that the threat and the fear was still there, and the last time they couldn’t find Aaron, he was stabbed nine (!!) times.

“Aaron?” You call through the gap in the door. You leave the keys in the door and pull your phone out of your pocket, hitting the first number on your speed dial. 

You hear his phone ring, a smack, and both from down the hallway and through the speaker (with an echo): “Hotchner.” 

“I’m here with dinner. Open the door.” 

His voice is thick with sleep. “You have a key, right?”

“The chain is on. I’m surprised I didn’t trip the alarm.” 

He makes a little dissatisfied noise and hangs up. I love him. You can hear him plant his feet and walk down the hallway. You smile a little at him as he approaches the door, almost looking inconvenienced as he shuts it, removes the chain lock, and opens it again. 

“Are you seriously upset that I brought you food?” 

No, dear, that’s just his face. 

He shakes his head and steps back, letting you in before closing it.  “No, sorry. I just didn’t mean to fall asleep.” 

You take stock of him as he turns his back on you and sits on the couch, settling with a slowness that looks painful. You set the food down and then return to lock the door. It’s easier for him to answer your question when you’re not looking at him. 

I love how well they know him. Like...he refuses to be vulnerable with the rest of the team, and even with them, he only feels safe when he can’t be seen. 

“How are you feeling?”

A sigh. “Alright.” 

And yet...

You look over your shoulder as you slide the chain lock back into place. “Don’t lie to me. It won’t work.” 

His head is in the takeout bag as he answers, still avoiding your eyes. “I’m sore and I can’t sleep at night and everything is healing slower than I want.”

There we go. There we go, indeed. 

You sit beside him. “Do your dressings need to be changed?” 

“I got most of them earlier, and Jess came over to help me yesterday, but there are a few that need to wrap around and I can’t -” He stops with a huff. “I can’t reach without -”

You put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I got it.” 

His jaw is tight, shaky. “Thanks.” 

Hotch and them just communicate with each other so well. They can understand what he needs and how he needs it presented to him. 

“First,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes, “food.” 

There’s a grateful little pull of his lips as you dig in. The news is on, but you pick up the remote and change it to some ridiculous reality TV program. 

“I was watching that.” 

“No you weren’t.” 

He wasn’t. 

This made me LAUGH like you wouldn’t believe. My parents do this all the time and it always makes me smile. 

You avoid his exasperated eyes as you set the remote on your side of the couch - farther than he can reach without stretching. 

You eat together in silence, the trainwreck on the television only marginally holding your attention. When you glance at him, you catch the side of his face twinge when he reaches for his glass of water.

“You know, not taking your pain meds doesn’t make you Captain America. It just makes you stupid, and in pain.” 

This is the piece of dialogue that got me started on this little fic. I was like “wait a minute - this fucker won’t take his meds and he’ll need someone to take care of him and the writers DEPRIVED us of joy so maybe i’ll just give myself a little joy, as a treat.

He levels you with a glare. 

+++

“Stop squirming.” 

“Sorry.” 

We love starting in the middle of a conversation/activity. I really hate writing build-up to stuff if it’s not actually relevant, so I’ve kind of worked on making scene starts feel active without being too abrupt. I’ve been known to write full on scenes and then just chop the shit out of them for pacing and structure. 

My outtakes document is like 25 pages long because I never really get rid of anything. 

With gentle fingers, you tape and tuck gauze around one of the wounds on his ribs. He flinches, a little pained noise leaving his throat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Your fingers flutter for a second before setting back to work. Reaching blindly behind you, you grab the roll of gauze wrapping. “Hang on for just a second - this isn’t going to feel good.” 

He takes a deep breath (as deep as he can, anyway, considering his injuries), and you begin wrapping the dressing around his ribs, passing the roll from one hand to the other. He grits his teeth whenever it pulls the right amount, and your lower lip disappears between your teeth. 

I probably watched Aaron being in pain in carious episodes for close to an hour while putting this together. It sucked. 

“I’m going to tuck it in front so you can reach it, okay?”

He nods, his eyes closed. 

You’re sitting on his desk while he’s perched on the edge of his chair, his arm resting along the back - up and out of the way. This is the only place in the apartment he’s comfortable removing his shirt. 

Every other room has a mirror or a big window. 

ALRIGHT we’re gonna touch on Aaron’s insecurities here - we see his growth and confidence shift by the time we see him and Reader in mean it, where he feels comfortable when they take his shirt off and see his scars. 

“Okay, one more.”

You’ve saved the hardest one for last, but it has to go in that order. It’s the one just above his collarbone, right off the hollow of his throat, that needs the most attention and frequent changes. 

I noticed this dressing - the one right below his neck - on my final rewatch of Faceless, Nameless. I was scanning for things I missed, not looking at anything I’d seen before, and that just stood out to me. Thus, we got the extension of this scene that was originally going to end with “Every other room...window.” 

You tip his chin with the tip of your finger, giving you more space to work. 

Okay I didn’t even touch on the touching in this one. I think this is the most contact they’ve ever had, and I think something shifts in their friendship after this. 

Gingerly pulling at the tape, you remove the soiled dressing. Aaron’s breath comes as deep as he can through his teeth. When it quickens, you stop. 

You readjust so he can keep his head where it is and you can sit in his eye line. He meets your eyes with a tight jaw. 

Yes, we are mirroring the shaving scene in mean it here! There are a lot of mirror moments between that fic and this one - a kind of breakthrough of intimacy in both cases. 

“What can I do, Aaron?”

He closes his eyes again and tilts his head further to the side. “Just keep going.” 

The tears come unbidden into your eyes as you continue your work, but your hands and breath are steady. They are so moved to his pain it literally made me cry. I just thought of the way their hands must have shook and like...the sight of the wound itself. My best friend was hospitalized two years ago, and even seeing her in any pain just brought me straight to tears. For these two, where that’s so part of their everyday, I can’t even fathom it. You can hear him match his breath to yours and you’re thankful for your relative composure.  

The wound still looks wretched - angry and red and black and blue and weeping - but it’s not infected. 

You hold a towel up and he gingerly presses it to his chest while you reach for the wound wash, hiding your face from him. This is as much about protecting themself as it is about protecting Aaron. 

“Thirty seconds, thirty seconds,” you assure him. “Do you want me to count?”

I like the implication that they’ve counted the thirty seconds for him before, so I left it there. 

He shakes his head. “Just do it.” 

You shoot a gentle stream of the solution across the open tissue, held together by more stitches than you want to count, both internal and external. There are SO many delicate little ligaments and muscle fibers in the neck and upper chest - I asked my dad about it (reminder: he’s a former paramedic from Alameda county where paramedics can make an execute medical decisions lmao) and he said neck and clavicle injuries were a nightmare. Apparently, it’s like a minefield in there. The other arteries and delicate tissues of the body dont have so many key items, but the neck (obviously) does, with lots of room to damage upper and lower respiratory tracks. Thus...Lots of stitches. Anguished noises leave his chest through his teeth and you know he’s trying to suppress them with unsteady breath. His eyes are shut impossibly tight, and you can see unauthorized tears gathering in the corners. 

Unauthorized tears came to me while I was searching in vain for an appropriate adjective here. I didn’t want to just say that he was crying - it wasn’t good enough. I wanted to demonstrate that he didn’t want to cry, that neither one of them wanted to make the other feel badly for their own anguish. 

This is always the hardest part, and you’ve never gotten through it without crying. You hate how much he hurts. It’s like you can feel it yourself, the sting, the bone-deep ache, the throbbing. 

Tears fall down your cheeks, some landing on your shirt and others wandering down your throat. 

Even then, he knows you don’t pity him. 

If he thought that, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him.

You wash and dab, wash and dab, until the wound is clean and fluid-free, apologizing the whole time. You throw both the wash and gauze to the side and reach for fresh wrapping while swiping at your eyes. 

Fuck. 

“Just a second.” 

You’ve touched your face, so now you have to wash your hands. Again. We love good hygiene practice! You leave him and go into the kitchen, wash and dry your hands, and return to him. 

He catches your eyes before you settle back down. There’s something behind his eyes you can’t name, and it sends something flying around your body. 

That’s love, babey!! Haley smacked sense into him since last we talked and Reader has NO clue! Wild! I love dramatic irony!

You always feel a little guilty for your tears, but he understands. He thought for a moment, in the beginning, about what he would do if the situation was reversed. 

I can just see Aaron thinking of this, almost getting stuck on it. He’s so sensory-oriented, so grounded in sensation and memory, that he would force himself to feel the full brunt of a hypothetical scenario where Reader is seriously injured. 

He doesn’t have to imagine too hard because of course he remembers the gunshot wound in through and through, but it would be different if they were hospitalized or something. 

After scant seconds of consideration, he had decided he could never be as composed as you, as vulnerable and open as you. He could never offer to clean and dress your wounds - the thought of causing you pain of any sort, even helpful pain, was unbearable. 

Besides that, he would be so angry that you were hurt at all and wouldn’t be able to keep his hands steady. 

Nothing like the barely-contained rage of cis white men born in the 1960′s! (Or maybe I’m just projecting my father here....anyways.....)

At the very least, he would probably scare you with the intensity of his fury. Anyone who ever laid a hand on you would be subject to a wrath comparable to that of God. 

And Aaron’s mom is Catholic, so he would know. 

I can’t wait to have more Mama Hotch! (For those of you who haven’t gotten to the reality check trilogy, I’ve named her Evelyn because a. it was popular when she was born and b. I needed Aaron’s mom to have a soft and elegant name) 

There is not a moment where he takes your execution of this particular task for granted. He knows how difficult it is. He thinks, perhaps, that this is the bravest act of love he’s ever seen. 

I love the way Aaron shows love. He’s adoring in kind of a different way, brave in a different way. There’s so much hiding beneath him if you know where and how to look. I don’t think people, either in the show or in the fandom or in general, really look critically at him that way. 

But could you love him?

Love?

No. 

Too old. Too broken. Too divorced. Too married to work. Too poor a father. Too many other things that make me wholly undeserving. 

He couldn’t, wouldn’t, subject you to himself. 

God I mean there is SO MUCH in him that internalizes EVERYTHING. He thinks everything is his fault and I just????? Ugh.

He’s satisfied loving you in silence. He’d done it for a while now, he realized, after his conversation with Haley. 

It would have to be enough.

It would have to be enough to watch you carry on with your joyful, vibrant life. 

It would have to be enough to watch your face light up for someone who loves you, who puts a ring on your finger and makes you happy. 

It would have to be enough to spoil your children if and when you became a parent, to hold the title ‘Uncle Aaron’ instead of ‘Dad.’

I added this last bit as almost an afterthought, and it was the one everyone seemed to love the most. Looking back, it’s my favorite too. 

It would have to be enough to know you would outlive him and die loved. 

It would have to be enough. 

You pick up your tools again, using three fingertips this time to tip his head to the side at the temple. He almost smiles. 

Here, I think its the juxtaposition between the direction of his thoughts and their gentle touch that makes him smile. It’s not a happy one, but I think its one of acceptance. He’s in a place, in this moment, where he actually trusts that they’ll be there. 

“What?”

He shakes his head the barest amount and raises his eyebrows. “Nothing.” 

I think they would have told them, if there was some way to explain it. But there wasn’t. 

With a roll of your still-watery eyes, you get back to work, folding and pressing the gauze to the wound with a light, even pressure. You try to ignore Aaron’s hiss as the smile dissolves off his face, replaced by restraint and pain. 

Holding the pad in place with one hand, you take the tape, hanging the roll on your thumb while you pull with your other hand. You tape all around the perimeter of it, gently warming the adhesive against his skin. 

“Alright. Almost done.” 

You have him hold the end right under the wound while you stand to better get around him. Once, like a sash, around his shoulder and across his back and under his other arm, once around his ribs, repeat. 

Again, you tear and tuck it in front so he can reach, and gently pat it into place. 

When it’s low-profile enough to disappear under his shirt -

“Finished.” 

You turn and gather everything into the little bin that lives under his bathroom counter before he can say anything. And this is their way of hiding from him. I purposefully focused in on Hotch’s inner monologue during this part, instead of Reader’s. We already know how they feel and how much they love him and yet deny it from here to next year. I thought it was much more interesting to examine Aaron’s acceptance of his feelings in this moment. He watches you, and you can feel his eyes at your back. 

The first time you came to visit after he got home, he was worried you’d look at him differently, was worried you’d pity him. 

This was originally up where the first mention of pity is, but I needed that inner moment with Aaron before I went back to a recollection. 

He shouldn’t have.

You showed up at the door looking at him just the same way you always did. He wasn’t sure quite what way that was, exactly, but it was the same. 

The first time you offered to help him with his dressings, he refused outright. It was only when you saw that a wound on his left side had ripped a little and bled through his shirt that you wrestled him down and took care of it. 

Harder still than exposing his pain? Taking off his shirt. You’d reached for the top button the first time and he flinched like he’d been burned. 

He refused to meet your eyes. 

This little memory was SUCH a clear image in my head - it was such a struggle to figure out where and how to include it. I was happy that I found a way to do it in a way that wasn’t jarring and didn’t detract.

“What on earth are you so afraid of?”

He opened his mouth as if he was going to raise his voice at you, but then snapped it shut, his jaw working. His eyes were trained on the carpet. 

“Hey.” 

He looked at you somewhat reluctantly. 

“It’s just me.”

I know, he thought, that’s the problem. 

“This,” you gesture to his general torso area, “is not going to scare me or freak me out. What does freak me out, however -” You point at him with a packet of sterile gauze. “- is the thought of you trying to do this on your own, ripping your stitches, you not going back to the hospital, getting infected, going septic, and having a generally bad time.”

He finally speaks, the barest bit of sarcasm in his tone. “That’s quite a reach, isn’t it?”

You shoot him a withering look. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me you’d willingly go back to get your stitches fixed every time you ripped them, I’ll leave you alone.” 

He won't meet your eyes again, looking like a guilty child as his eyes wander to the corner of the room with a bit of a squint. 

You made your point rather elegantly. 

You pass him his shirt over your shoulder and he takes it, slipping his arms into the sleeves. 

BECAUSE IT’S NORMAL. Reader simply doesn’t acknowledge his vulnerability because they don’t need to. They just accept it in him and make it safe. 

His ridiculous number of button ups were coming in handy, especially considering the increased risk of stains. You’ve soaked more shirts in peroxide in the last week than you care to count. 

Occupational hazard, I guess. 

Getting blood out of dress shirts is an ART and Reader has MASTERED it.

You pick up the little bin and take it back into the bathroom, your fingers tracing over the framed photos of Haley and Jack in the hall as you pass. 

There’s one of you and Haley, too, at some sort of summer function where you were all together. If you aren’t mistaken, Jess took the photo as you and Haley lounged in lawn chairs, laughing.

I love these little scenes that are captured in pictures. Most of the pictures I write in are not only for implicit characterization, but to capture little images and scenes I can’t find context for, or aren’t something I can put into a fic in any kind of neat and orderly way. 

So, just like in my head, they live in still or just-moving-a-little images. 

Another one of the two of you sits on the dresser in Aaron’s bedroom. You’ve never seen it. 

It’s another Jess-capture. Haley has Jack in her arms, kissing him on one cheek with a smile while you press a kiss to the other, eyes shut tight. One of your hands rests lightly on Haley’s arm, the other makes bunny ears over Jack’s head. The boy’s face is all crinkled like he hates it, but Aaron knows that photo was bookended by a screech of laughter and many, many giggles. 

It’s times like this where I wish I could draw Reader, so I could take this and paint it. I still might try with a vague impression of them....But I’m not sure. 

+++

You bounce into the office in the morning, looking no worse for wear even after spending the night on Aaron’s couch. 

Hey, it’s a comfortable couch.

The pair of you stayed out on the couch watching bad movies far later than you meant to, but it’s alright. 

I just LOVE this image. 

Not the first time that’s happened. 

You could neither confirm nor deny that Aaron slept, but you saw, through his open bedroom door, that he was still and quiet for most of the night. 

The open door was an important detail here. Naturally, Aaron would want to close himself off to as much of a threat as possible, but I think he actually feels safer with the door open when Reader is there just outside of it, rather than the alternative. 

“You look chipper this morning,” Penelope notes. 

You shrug. “I slept well last night.” 

“How’s Hotch?” Emily asks. 

Oh, gals you have no idea how related those questions are. 

That’s another mirror moment to mean it, by the way. 

You make a little wavering noise. “About how you’d expect, but alright.” 

It’s later in the day when Dave pulls you aside and thanks you, wrapping you in his arms. 

You lean into him and you’re almost frustrated, but not surprised, when tears press at your eyes again. It seems you’re made of them, these days. 

“We’re so lucky to have you.”

You shake your head, burrowing into his shoulder. “Other way around.” 

He pulls back and kisses you on the cheek, patting your other one affectionately before offering his hand to you. “Agree to disagree?”

You roll your eyes and shake on it. 

“Sure, Dave. Sure.” 

This reminds me of that little scene in redamancy when Dave and Mom are talking about how much he deserves to have one of the babies named after him. 

And thus concludes director’s commentary for enough!! I’m always happy to answer process questions if y’all have any!!

[samanthaxreed]

                                               SOLO THREAD

Locale: Sam’s apartment / Oceanside Cemetery

Mentioned: @fireinhislungs, @gracetaylorwilliams, @jessexmarino​, @naomixjones​

Dinner with her father went off with only a few conversational lulls, far less awkward than anticipated and yet not completely fluid. Like two people rowing a canoe at different speeds, both attempting to turn it in the same direction without being fully in sync. It would come with time Sam supposed and as she began cleaning dishes, bright hues caught sight of her father throwing a cursory examination of the window latches before shifting attention to the folded sweater on her couch. “Are you holding that for somebody?”

It took everything in her not to snort. “Real subtle... It doesn’t belong to some secret lover if that’s what you’re getting at.”

His chagrin at being caught was palpable enough to soften Sam’s raised brow, almost lingering on the edge of amused before he continued. “I worry about you living in this place alone, Samantha. No roommate, no boyfriend, or... girlfriend?” The blonde visibly winced then, hands resuming the task at hand to avoid discussing something so personal with a person she truly didn’t know well at all. Her father, still a near stranger. “Look, take it from me that too much alone time drives you a little nuts and it’s probably safer in numbers around here.”

The audacity to gently lecture as if his brand of advice mattered in the grand scheme when he never deemed it necessary until now. A measured swallow and breath came before she pivoted features to address him in a way that wouldn’t entirely nuke their still rather tepid relationship. The pair lingered a hair away from disaster and the only indication she managed to give was a firm warning. “Dad, I know what you’re trying to say, but I can take care of myself. I’m doing just fine and you’re forgetting that I literally lived here at one point.” With him and her mother, ironically enough. Apparently Oceanside had been worth settling in during her formative years, but once she could choose for herself it no longer suited the narrative.

“You always did have your mother’s stubbornness.” That, at least, managed to ring true and she might have been able to ignore that comment with a scoff or quick humor picked up from his side, but her father always prodded the right button. “I’m trying to keep you safe, okay?” Definitely a hothead like her abrasive mother because the knife she’d been wiping down tightened within Sam’s slender grasp. Hell of a time to start giving a shit, but she digressed. “Because Oceanside isn’t how you remember it and ignoring that fact’s gonna get you hurt if you don’t pay attention... I understand if it brings you comfort being here, but it’s not the same.”

The sharp utensil she had been cleaning finally clattered against metal as it hit the base of her sink, dropped in frustration because it wasn’t his business. None of it. He surrendered that right when the ink dried on her custody papers; parental claim relinquished unequivocally. “I’m not blind. I can fucking see that it’s worse and I’m not walking around the city with rose colored glasses.” Quite the opposite, suffocating every blossom of nostalgia before it could spring out of the dirt... Or ash, depending upon how one looked at it. “The whole me getting poisoned thing shot that down right out of the gate, but I’m not just–– I’m not giving up on this and lots of people I care about live here.” She swallowed against the vulnerability, choking it down like a bad tequila shot. “Which means there’s something worth sticking around for, so if you’re trying to talk me out of it then go ahead and call up Fletcher. Let him tell you how well that worked out the last time somebody tried.” 

“Take it easy,” he cautioned with infuriating ease against her rising temper. “I’m only trying to look out for your best interest. If something happened to you, I wouldn’t forgive myself.” The chuckle she gave in response lacked both humor and warmth, practically bewildered at his entire savior complex... And bitter, so unfathomably jaded at this ill conceived timing. Too little, too late. “Yeah, well, you’ve been asleep on the job for twenty-eight years so it’s convenient that you woke up to do it now.”

That must have cut deep because her father maneuvered out of the kitchen doorway, hands raised defensively as if she were still holding the knife. It sort of felt like that, but her tongue became the barb instead. Stabbing repeatedly when he hardly deserved it, angered more at unseen and unresolved forces. “I know I wasn’t always as involved as I could have been, but I did raise you––”

“You didn’t raise me, you avoided me because it was easier to spend time at the casino than come home to the life you picked out. And before you start accusing me of favoritism, Mom didn’t do shit either. You want to talk about romanticizing the past? Take a look in the fucking mirror.” Fists clenched against her side were blanched white at the knuckles, three decades of resentment spilling out in verbal blows that Sam knew she couldn’t take back. Nor did she want to, not tonight. “The Williams raised me. And when they were gone, I raised myself and I did a damn good job at it.” 

Some part of her would regret this moment later when his features came to mind, the shame and clear heartbreak written across them undeniable. “I didn’t realize that’s how you felt.” They had backed up fully into her living room, or perhaps she simply cornered her father with truthful criticisms when he’d only wanted to help. So much for repairing their relationship. “Yeah, well... I ruined your lives so I guess it’s only fitting that you ruined mine.” Arms crossed protectively over her middle, both avoiding one another’s gaze out of mutual hurt and then she heard the door unlock. 

“I wish you hadn’t come back here, Samantha.” 

While sounding bad on the surface, she knew full well it was meant as a last olive branch and proof that he loved her despite the vitriol, but Sam’s throat had tightened too far to respond. He slipped out into the evening air and despite how she wished to move, or scream, or burst into a thousand shards to match her internal schism, both feet remained firmly planted for several minutes. 

Then she darted across to her purse, snatching it up along with the sweater draped along the back of her sofa. No phone, she didn’t need to talk anymore. At least no one listed in there.

–––––

One bottle of some cheap rosé from the grocery store later and she was back on the road, navigating some vaguely familiar route down the coast. GPS wound up becoming necessary at some point much to her embarrassment, but twelve years away wasn’t nothing and darkness made fools of everyone. Her car pulled into the cemetery parking lot and for a minute she simply sat with the engine idled, replaying pieces of their conversation in her mind. Not just with her father, but Fletcher, Grace, Jesse, Naomi... People who existed in her former life that now began slotting into this new, convoluted one. 

The gate’s lock was either open already or rusted by the sea air, but it hardly mattered because Sam entered without much barrier. Weaving through headstones, she discovered that the path to her destination sprouted from memory which was altered by nighttime shadows and the fickle mistress of time. After getting turned around once, she eventually made it and settled into a small plot of grass, unscrewing the lid of her bottle and toasting in mock cheers to her company.

                        In Loving Memory of Brooke Williams

The sight alone was enough to tighten something imperceptible within her chest, washed away by the peachy drink and a half-hearted joke. “Sorry for sitting on you, but that should be nothing new. Kick me off if you hate it.” Talking to a ghost as if the long deceased girl were able to hear felt stupid on about three hundred levels, but Sam hadn’t been granted the privilege of catching up for so long. And after arguing with her parent, she just needed her best friend and other half. 

“I think that maybe... everything in my life is temporary now,” she admitted to the silence. “And sometimes I can even convince myself that I’m okay with it. Never attaching myself to anybody or anything.” Mostly through her own design, sabotaging any concept of permanence before it, too, could be ripped away without warning. A self preservation measure concocted when she was far too young; no kid should delve so far into their own fear that they only knew how to run. “Except here. I feel like I keep circling back to this place and these people... And you. Always you.” For someone who only an hour previous claimed to raise herself, she truly did an immaculate job at creating an adult who wound up successful, capable, and so unbearably alone.

Maybe she should have called Fletcher instead, the thought interjected itself and became quickly dismissed. Hadn’t enough trouble been thrust upon his shoulders? And Grace’s? Stripped of their entire family in the course of a single night, tossed into a system which spat them back out, and molded to fit a world that clearly didn’t give a shit. The last thing either one needed was a reminder walking back through their door, but she had with such unfathomable selfishness. Perhaps guilt brewed in the pit of her stomach over how she treated her father tonight or that continuous fear of making the wrong move, but uncertainty brought the rim to parted lips once more.

“I’m not sure what I’m doing anymore, B.” It was easier to draw honesty from her bones out here, less like pulling water from a stone with only a bottle and the faint ocean breeze answering back. Rather than eerie or unsettling, the dim light provided a quiet comfort of remaining unseen in the midst of such raw admittance. “I don’t think I belong in this city like I used to, but I’m scared––” There was that thickness in the far reaches of her throat again. “I’m afraid that if I don’t belong in Oceanside then I don’t really belong anywhere. So what the hell do I do?”

She had belonged once, in a flickering memory of happiness that remained pure despite life’s valiant attempts to extinguish it. Friendship bracelets with her name misspelled on accident. Brooke telling Fletcher he could only join their pillow fort if he killed the spider inside. Grace’s laughter from beneath the hood of an old car as she threw a grease laden rag at Mr. Williams. They were supposed to grow old together, buy houses on the same street, live out impossibly normal lives. So beautifully mundane in their cookie cutter regularity. Even after the worst overtook them, she had been naïve enough to believe in some echo of that future; a broken shell, but enough to keep her head above water.

In that alternate time, Grace taught her to drive manual and took Sam to get her license, the pair bonding in a way that she only dreamed of as a child who idolized the eldest Williams beyond words. She would have thanked the brunette for being the only stable adult in her life and the only one worth counting on. In that alternate timeline, she got Fletcher trashed on his twenty-first birthday and sat on the bathroom floor with him all night in apology. She would have told him the truth at some point, even if he didn’t reciprocate. So many what if’s that were robbed before they even began and now she grasped at smoke, unable to hold it between desperate fingers. Why couldn’t she just let things go like a well adjusted person? Why did she leave claw marks etched into every memory?

More wine, but this time it tasted distinctly of saltwater as the wind brushed over damp cheeks.

[fungusbabey]

i’m literally the worst person to ask this BUT i’m begging a month later for the alex angst of him rejecting the farmer for a part 2 like i’m BEGGING

okok i know this was requested a while ago, but i’ve been playing a lot the last couple days and i’m finally motivated!

-

as the weeks passed, your text continued to be unanswered, and you took on a policy of only going into town when absolutely necessary. occasionally, one of your friends would come and check on you, often sam and seb as a duo, sometimes shane with a beer or leah with a bottle of wine, but life became decidedly lonely without your best friend.

of course, he noticed. he tried not to care, but he couldn’t help but think that maybe he had been, and was continuing to be, harsh—that maybe you really hadn’t done anything wrong. there were times when haley went home instead of sharing his bed and he found himself absentmindedly reaching for his phone to call you to talk about his day before catching himself.

he wasn’t truly worried until you didn’t show up to the dance of the moonlight jellies. since moving into pelican town, you had attended every single festival. not only that, but this festival was one of your favorites. staring out at the bioluminescent blobs in the ocean, haley leaning into his side, alex found himself thinking of last year, when it was you sitting with him, shortly after he’d been dumped by a girl from the city. you’d stayed with him for a week straight to keep him company and take his mind off of it. guilt stabbed him in the chest, and he mumbled an excuse about needing to get to sleep for an early practice in the morning before rushing off.

meanwhile, you were tucked in bed. not sleeping, but staring blankly at the ceiling and vaguely wishing for an end. every waking moment carried the heartbroken weight of your limbs and the heaviness in your chest, though nearly a month had passed since the rejection. living was getting harder by the day.

the knock at your door, especially this late at night and during a festival, was unexpected to say the least. thoughts of your seclusion from the rest of town and the possibility of an axe murdered crossed your mind, but those thoughts weren’t met with fear—just apathy. you were in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, but you weren’t concerned about your appearance, especially in the dark.

that changed when you were met with the too-familiar emerald eyes and perfectly tanned skin of alex mullner.

you gazed up at him, eyes full of vulnerability, accepting whatever insults were about to come your way. your eyes fell to the porch, where his well-worn sneakers were firmly planted into the wood.

“i’m sorry for overreacting,” he apologized stiffly, unsure how to speak to you after so long. “that was mean of me.”

“it’s okay,” you replied, barely above a whisper. you didn’t dare look up at him, because you knew the tears brimming your eyes would spill if you did. “i’m sorry for fucking everything up. i shouldn’t have said anything.” your throat ached from the effort of holding in a sob.

“you... you didn’t do anything wrong, y/n. i’m so sorry for hurting you.” the impact the situation had on you began to sink in when he saw that your skin had paled from spending your free time inside instead of in town with him or with your other friends, and that you’d lost weight, probably from not having the motivation to eat much. he saw how you shrank away from him and treated him as a dominant rather than an equal—that you were scared of him.

“it’s okay,” you repeated softly, and he practically felt his heart shatter.

“no, it’s not okay, y/n,” he insisted, gently turning your chin up so that you were looking him in the eye. “i was wrong, and i hurt you. i’ve been a dick, and you didn’t deserve it.”

“i shouldn’t have said anything, alex. i was stupid and disgusting and that’s my fault.” your eyes darted away from his submissively.

“disgusting? for what, having feelings for me? there’s nothing wrong about having a crush on someone. i was just... i was scared, i guess. you were being a good friend by being honest with me and i made you feel wrong for that. i was straight up mean to you, so if anyone in this situation was disgusting, it’s me.” his voice was growing desperate as he searched for the girl he once knew in the shell in front of him. the girl he once loved.

“why were you scared?” you asked, your voice small and barely audible. your eyes flickered you to meet his, and he could make out the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks, and your lips, swollen and bright from chewing on them.

“because i feel the same way about you, but i‘ve been scared to admit it to myself. all my life, i’ve been expected to date girls who are a certain way, the stereotypical airhead cheerleader to my gridball jock, but you’re so far from that. you’re smart, and you’re tough, and even though you clean up nice, you aren’t afraid to get dirty. you don’t understand gridball, but you try because you know it makes me happy. you make me food and bring me the coolest stuff just because you think i’ll like it. you’re emotionally intelligent and not afraid to talk about how you feel, and you encourage me to open up and explore my feelings, when all my life i’ve felt like i had to bottle it up. you’ve been the best friend i could ever ask for, and i lashed out at you and hurt you, all because i was too much of a coward to accept that i’m in love with you, y/n.” his hands gently came to rest on your upper arms.

“do you really mean that?” you asked cautiously, your voice still more fragile than alex had ever heard it. you sounded like a scared child, and he hated himself for making you feel so small.

“i absolutely do,” he assured. “i’ve tried to deny it for a couple years now, but i can’t hide from it anymore. i don’t just have feelings for you—i am in love with you, and i mean every single word.” there was a pause, and the two of you made solid eye contact for the first time in a month, one pair full of regret and the other resembling those of a wounded puppy.

you found yourself wrapping your arms around his strong torso and burying your face in his chest, finally letting go of the sobs you’d been desperately choking back. alex rubbed your back soothingly and kissed the top of your head, a few single tears falling into your moonlit hair.

“can i come inside, honey?” he asked gently, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “i can stay if you want me to.”

you nodded eagerly, ecstatic to finally catch up with your best friend and get to hear his soothing voice ramble on into the wee hours of the morning, and even more excited at the likelihood of falling asleep in his arms.