#Clutch Overhauling

[nyrarachelle-plays]

"How Are We Going to Do This...?"

Girl look around plsss, but it's not just about the money. It's also about stability and love and support and running down the many concerns she has about this pregnancy, Roger can only offer a listening ear and shocked reactions, at first.

Previously. ("You Forreal?!") | Next. ("Don't They Look Ready?")

[allpromarlo]

commanders go take mike vrabel he's all yours

[metalmonki]

A Well Kept Secret

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

1.3k word count

Summary You and Spencer have been in a secret relationship for a year. When you unexpectedly become pregnant it becomes harder to keep that secret.

fluff

Warnings none

Part 2

The suffocating fluorescent lights of the apartment were a welcome change from the sterile white of the doctor's office. Relief washed over You as you closed the door behind you, the positive pregnancy test clutched tight in your sweaty hand. Today was the day you'd tell Spencer.

Your little secret – the apartment you shared just a few blocks from the office – felt like the perfect place to break the news. Stepping into the dimly lit haven, you called out, "Honey, I'm home!"

The sounds of rustling papers filtered from the living room. Spencer emerged; a pair of reading glasses perched precariously on his nose. A tired smile spread across his face as he saw you. "Y/N! You're back early."

"Yeah," you said, you voice uncharacteristically small. "There's something I need to tell you."

Spencer's brow furrowed. He set his papers down and walked towards you, his concern evident. You took a deep breath, you heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

"So, remember how I wasn't feeling well and left work early yesterday?" you started, your gaze flickering around the room before settling back on him.

"Of course," Spencer said, his brow furrowing further. "Everything okay?"

"The doctor figured out why I've been feeling so..." you hesitated, a shy smile playing on your lips.

Spencer reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your cheek. "So? Why have you been feeling so...?"

"We're going to be parents, Spence," You blurted out, the words tumbling over each other in a rush.

Spencer froze, his glasses slipping down his nose slightly. The colour drained from his face, replaced by a mixture of shock and something that looked suspiciously like fear.

"Pregnant?" he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper.

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. It was cold and clammy. "Yeah," you said softly. "A month and a half."

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. You could almost hear Spencer's mind racing, cataloguing the implications, the potential career consequences.

"But... but what about work?" he finally choked out. "No one knows we live together, let alone..."

You squeezed his hand gently. "I know, Spence. But they don't need to know everything, do they? We can figure this out, together."

A flicker of hope ignited in Spencer's eyes. He looked at you, a hesitant smile gracing his lips. "Together?"

"Of course," You said, a warmth spreading through your chest. "We're in this together, you and me. We always have been, even if no one else knows it."

Spencer pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. Relief and a touch of nervous excitement mingled in the air of your secret haven. The future was uncertain, but for now, you had each other, and that was all that truly mattered.

The morning commute was a blur. You sat beside Spencer in the passenger seat, the weight of the previous night's conversation heavy in the silence. You stole a glance at him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, fingers drumming a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel.

You knew his reservations stemmed from your hidden relationship, the unspoken pact you'd made to navigate the professional world without letting your personal lives interfere. Now, the carefully constructed barrier threatened to crumble with the news of your baby.

"You okay, Spence?" you finally asked, your voice breaking the tense silence.

Spencer startled, then let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, just thinking." He shot you a quick, worried smile. "About everything, I guess."

You understood. This wasn't just about a baby; it was about a complete overhaul of your carefully constructed world. Your secret apartment, your stolen moments of normalcy, all of it would have to be re-evaluated.

"We'll figure it out," you said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. The touch seemed to ground him, a silent reassurance in the face of the unknown.

He offered a small smile back, his grip tightening on yours for a brief moment before he focused back on the road.

The rest of the ride was filled with a comfortable silence. As you pulled up to the familiar brick facade of the FBI headquarters, You couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension. Today wasn't just any day at the office; it was the day your carefully constructed world would begin to shift, one way or another.

Stepping into the bullpen, a familiar buzz of activity greeted them. Morgan was already at his desk, barking into a phone, while JJ, Garcia and Emily chatted by the coffee pot. You offered weak smiles, your mind preoccupied with how to navigate the coming day.

Settling into your own workspace, you found yourself lost in a case file, the words blurring before your eyes. Every few minutes, you'd glance up at Spencer, who sat across from you, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked on a profile. Your usual comfortable silence felt strained now, laden with unspoken anxieties.

Just as you were about to reach out to Spencer, the bullpen door swung open, and Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner entered. His sharp gaze swept across the room, landing on you for a brief moment before moving on. You felt a familiar knot of tension tighten in your stomach. Telling Hotch about the baby, even without revealing Spencer's involvement, was another hurdle you needed to overcome.

"Sir, could I speak with you for a moment?" You requested standing from your desk.

Hotch nodded, gesturing for you to follow him into his office. Briefly explaining the situation and your concerns about inter-office relationships, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders when Hotch confirmed it wasn't against protocol as long as you remained discreet.

“Why do you ask? Are you seeing someone in the office I should know about?” Hotch asked arching an eyebrow.

“Oh no Hotch but I did loose a bet with Spencer so thank you for that” You smirked at him.

“Let it be a lesson never to place a bet with Spencer” Hotch chuckled.

Elated, you returned to Spencer, a grin plastered on your face. "Hotch says we can be together, as long as we keep things private."

Spencer, however, remained apprehensive. "You told him?"

"No, I just asked about the dating rules," You clarified. "But I will have to tell him about the baby”

"I know" Spencer sighed. "And for now, let's keep me out of it."

You, understanding his reservations, agreed. You returned to Hotch’s office this time revealing your pregnancy but withholding the father's identity. Hotch, to your surprise, offered congratulations and even a hug.

"Does this have anything to do with the question you asked earlier?" he inquired, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Uh no not at all” You giggled at the awkwardness of the situation.

“So whose the lucky guy?” He chuckled.

"He wants to keep it quiet for now," You explained.

"Fair enough," Hotch said, a playful smirk crossing his face. "Just as long as it's not Morgan or Rossi."

"Definitely not!" You chuckled. "Wait, so you'd be okay if it was Reid?"

"He's intelligent and dedicated," Hotch admitted. "Besides, Morgan wouldn't settle down, and Rossi's a little past his prime."

"What about you?" You teased.

Hotch chuckled. "We wouldn’t be having this conversation."

Returning to the bullpen, you announced you pregnancy to you colleagues. While everyone showered you with congratulations, they were naturally curious about the father. They had never heard of you seeing anyone and they knew you weren’t the type to just sleep around.

"His name is Spencer, but don't worry, it's not our Spencer," You assured them with a wink.

"Well, whoever he is, we'll have to meet him," Rossi declared, a glint in his eyes.

"Why?" You questioned.

"Just to make sure the newest member of the BAU family is being well looked after," Rossi winked.

The day continued with a new case, and although You was relegated to paperwork due to your condition, a warm feeling bloomed within you. You had a supportive team, a loving partner, and a future filled with exciting possibilities.

[dadsbongos]

megumi x airhead fluff please don’t let gege get u again 😔

iehjejeueueh

GASP this has been in my drafts so long and i totally forgot about it, i am sooo sorry nonny :')

761 words no big warnings just fluff n idiots pining, not super proofread

the ghost of gege has been cleansed from my soul!!! ~~~

“Do you really think that?”

Megumi stiffly avoids your gaze, soon after shrugging, “Yeah. What of it?”

You frown, and it could be how attuned he is to your mood but Megumi swears the sudden shift actually overhauls the entire room’s energy. Something morose and slithering around the darkness, somehow the gloominess only thickens in the areas sparsely lit by Megumi’s lamp.

“That’s sad,” you lean up from your sit and onto your knees, fingertips just barely pressing into the springs below, “You’re not a bad person, ‘gumi.”

“I don’t think I’m the devil,” he turns his whole head to avoid your piercing stare, “Just not a good person.”

“That’s sad!” now you’ve flung your hands up on his shoulders, squeezing down his arms as if a heartbroken widow clutching her poor, dead husband, “‘gumi you’re the best guy I know!”

Scrunching away from you, Megumi presses his back into the headboard of his bed, swallowing harshly and continuously dodging your stare, “Yeah, sure.”

“Hey,” you whine, now squishing his hands between yours, “You are! You’re super nice all the time, and you’re way smart.”

The accusation of kindness pulls a little chuckle from Megumi, especially considering how often Yuuji and Nobara curse his nasty attitude. He cannot comprehend why you’d marvel over him this way, or in any other way for that fact. Megumi’s eyes flutter shut, he soaks up the warmth of your hands on his, and your face by his cheek. If he dared lean up, he’d easily be able to kiss you (he’s not so bold, he thinks he’d rather die actually).

“And you’re so pretty,” you tack on, as if you can sense the worst possible thing to say right now.

Though, Megumi knows better -- you’re soft and mellow, his opposite if anything. The knowledge of your earnesty in the compliment does nothing to calm his racing heart, or the raging red slathering his face.

“Whatever…” Megumi sinks down until he’s laid back on his mattress. He sucks in air slowly, boring holes into the ceiling rather than your face, “You’re pretty, too. And you’re nicer than me,” he cringes, “If you’re still sure I’m nice.”

“You are,” you lay beside him, petting a hand over the bunches and wrinkles in his sleep shirt, “You’re being nice now! You let me come over after my nightmare.”

“You sounded scared,” he tries to shrug off the praise, but your words are clinging to his brain stubbornly, “Why would I make you sleep alone after that?”

“Exactly,” you’re bolder than Megumi, bold enough to spike your chin onto his chest, “You’d be a great boyfriend.”

“You don’t say,” he chokes out, heat clogging his cheeks and red burning into a deep crimson. He prays the dim light emitting from his nightstand doesn’t expose the sight to you. 

A melodic knock on Megumi’s door makes the duo flinch, and despite logic telling him nothing is wrong Megumi lets his arm come around your waist protectively. When its Satoru that pokes his head in, the boy grumbles.

“Hey, problem children,” Satoru coos, “if you’re gonna break rules, at least move apart when your teacher comes to scold you.”

“They had a nightmare,” Megumi’s hold on you tightens, “they didn’t wanna be alone.”

“Is that right?” Satoru’s blindfold is still snug around his face, but Megumi can feel his teacher’s stare pointed at where your head lays on his chest.

You nod viciously, “It was so scary! I thought I died for real, so ‘gumi let me stay with him so I don’t have another one.”

“Well how sweet,” Satoru taps the doorframe, “But c’mon, time for everyone to go to their own rooms.”

“Huh, no way!” you cry in protest, rocketing up straight.

“No way,” Megumi parrots.

Raising a brow, Satoru grins at his student’s sudden audacity, “You want me to stay in here with you both, then?”

“You want me to tell Yaga about the secret number in your phone?” Megumi glares, “The one you know by heart.”

Satoru grimaces down at the boy, then sighing and back out of the room, “Don’t do anything to make Yaga yell at me.”

“Wow, ‘gumi, you really got him.”

“He’s easy to wrangle, like training a big, stupid dog,” Megumi feels his heart thundering in his chest the longer you go without saying anything, simply sitting there and grinning at him, “What?”

“You stood up for me.”

“Duh.”

“That was really nice of you.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back onto him, “Yeah, whatever.”

[wing-ed-thing]

... And the Beast (Yonji Vinsmoke x Reader) Part IV

Synopsis: You thought your little crush on Prince Yonji was a well-kept secret. Yonji is mean enough to exploit your eagerness to please in the face of his unrelenting cruelty; the thought of actually developing a soft spot for you never even crossed his mind.

Word Count: 5k

Tags/Warnings: Naive!Servant!Reader, No Reader Pronouns, Canonically Mean Vinsmokes, But Reader is Kinda Into It, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Name-Calling, Language, Reader Falls First, Yonji Falls Harder, Choking, Mild Physical Violence

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Notes: Yonji my love how i've missed you so

You took a step back in surprise.

“How may I assist you, Master Ichiji?” You immediately bowed. 

Ichiji’s eyes made a sweep across the library before settling on you. He stepped forward, and you swiftly moved out of his way, pivoting to the side. But Ichiji positioned himself in front of you, staring forward before regarding you with the slightest turn of his head. 

His hand shot out instantly, grabbing the underside of your chin with his middle and index finger clutching one side of your jaw while his thumb dug into your face. Ichiji held you, tilting your face from one side to the other. 

“I came to see what the fuss was about.” His touch was harsh, but he wordlessly let you go to wander around the chamber. 

Ichiji strolled over to the stability cases first. He said nothing as he opened the one you had just closed, studying the books inside as intently as he had studied your face. Ichiji glanced at the shelves to his left, noting the gaps in what should have been a fully stocked collection. 

“Had you been ordered to perform an overhaul?” he hummed for as much as Ichiji could hum. He held the lid ajar with the heavy wooden lip resting between his knuckles like the weight was lighter than air. 

“No, Master Ichiji,” you answered, crossing the room to stand closer. “Master Yonji requested that these titles be reserved—”

“Prince Yonji.” Ichiji was quick and stern in his correction. You couldn’t help but blink in confusion as you tried to rapidly piece together what Ichiji was getting at. You knew the longer you didn’t understand, the more annoyed and volatile Ichiji would become. That was a rule of thumb for any of the princes. But Ichiji didn’t leave you to your thoughts for longer than a second. “That is what you call him.” 

You tried not to waver.

“Yes, Your Highness,” you confirmed. 

“Why?” The question shot from Ichiji’s lips like an accusation. 

Your mouth went dry. This hadn’t been the first time a prince had come into your humble workspace to make demands as he tried to reach some undisclosed point. It hadn’t even been the first time that week. Ichiji knelt to sift through a few of the titles.

“It is a proper form of address,” you offered. Ichiji remained quiet as he moved the books around. He didn’t have to say anything for you to understand that he was not satisfied with your answer. “And it is what Master Y— Prince Yonji prefers.”

Many of Germa’s soldiers trained closely with the three princes, and with their enhanced capabilities and battle-tailored minds, combatant citizens learned much from the royal family. And with most of the kingdom’s population consisting of soldiers, the title “Master” became the most common form of address when speaking of or to any of the Vinsmoke children. 

“I see.” Ichiji rose, letting the container lid slam closed with a bang. The noise pulled an involuntary jerk from your shoulders. Ichiji stood perfectly still. You couldn’t see the way his eyes carefully scanned the room. Ichiji pivoted on his heel, making for the set of stairs on the left-hand side of the chamber. 

You trailed behind him, unsure if he was expecting you to follow. Whether he wanted you to or not, Ichiji didn’t speak a word as he made his way up the velvet-carpeted steps. 

He took his time analyzing the shelves. Unlike Yonji, who appeared to enjoy touching any text that remotely stuck out to him, Ichiji clasped his hands behind his back to peruse the balcony with an eerie quietness. His face never changed from its usual, neutral frown as he slowly made his way around the room, stopping frequently as he scrutinized the spaces between books.

Yonji was expressive by comparison, although this wasn’t to say much, considering that he wore his reactions on his sleeve more often than not.  But even despite Yonji’s frequent brow jumps, lip dips, and nose scrunching, it wasn’t much of an observation to say that anyone was more expressive than Ichiji. 

He walked around the balcony, to the opposite end and down the right-hand set of stairs. Ichiji’s gait was firm and poised, and he held himself in such a way that somehow commanded authority over the room without him even having to speak a word. And yet, you could hardly hear his steps as he seemed to glide across the carpet. 

You lingered as Ichiji finally reached the bottom level again, placing him near your typical reading chair. You trailed tentatively behind with eyes averted to the door, posture upright, and ready to serve however Ichiji saw fit. You were, after all, still the library attendant for the whole Germa Kingdom. 

You hardly noticed how Ichiji lingered by the window. 

“Did my brother request this?” 

You had looked away from him for a second, and in the next moment, Ichiji had the book of fairy tales from all four blues clutched in his hand. He held it with the spine facing him as he continued to frown. 

“No, Prince Yonji did not.”

“A bit too old to be reading children’s books, aren’t we?” Ichiji pivoted a foot to face you. The light from the window behind him shrouded Ichiji in a blinding glow. It wasn’t golden or perfectly framed, but an overwhelming convergence of sunbeams that threw off the saturation of his face. “I’m talking to you, book roach.”

“Yes, Master Ichiji. I agree.” You dared not mention the children.

The sun only became more blinding as Ichiji walked toward you, letting the white light drip over his shoulder and into your eyes. For a moment, the sunbeams hit the back of Ichiji’s sunglasses just right, allowing you to see through the opaque lenses and straight into his piercing gaze.

His hand shot out instantly, grabbing you by both cheeks in an iron vice-grip. The webbing between his index finger and thumb sat just under your nose. Ichiji’s motion didn’t accommodate your height as he almost seemed to lift you, causing your knees to buckle. Your hands instinctively shot to his wrist. 

Ichiji pulled you in close while you squirmed in his grasp. You could feel his steady breaths against your cheek as he tilted his head to the side as a wild animal would when stalking prey. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will your body to release his arm. You knew the longer you touched him, the more whatever he was going to do next would hurt. But every adrenaline-fueled fiber of your being was held mercilessly at the will of your racing chest. Only the tips of your shoes touched the floor.

“I didn’t understand, and I can’t say I do now.” Ichiji’s attention moved from your face to the trembling fingers that creased the fabric of his sleeve. He found your movements thoughtless, caught somewhere between fighting him and being too fearful to. The very sight made him scowl. He would have preferred if you fought. “I can see the novelty in a soft, fragile thing like you. Still, I struggle to see what's truly captivating beyond that.”

He released you, letting you crumple to the floor at his feet.

“Dispose of this.” Ichiji dropped the book of fairy tales on your head as he brushed past you, leaving a surprisingly forceful breeze in his wake with his fast pace. “Germa doesn’t need this in the library.” 

With a few long strides to the doors, Ichiji was gone.

***

The fleet was supposed to sail into the storm overnight. The water was beginning to grow the slightest bit choppy by the time evening rolled around, but the bobbing of the ships was bearable. And with your responsibilities on your snail finished, your evening free, and the central kitchen nearby, you decided to visit Cosette. 

It was probably for the best, considering that most of the domestic staff was holed up below deck, trying to fight the cold that was making the rounds on your ship. The twins were hit extra hard, and between making remedial foods for everyone else, the cook had his hands full with the children. 

The central kitchen was sending out dessert by the time you arrived. You side-stepped a servant bringing out some sort of ice cream dish before making your way inside the ever-bustling kitchen. 

Cosette did a double-take as you entered, eyes flickering from her hand-whipped whipped cream before a wide grin overtook her lips. Her head tilted to the side with a raise of her brows and a pucker of her lips. Her rapid whisking didn’t cease for a second. You shrugged, making a little dance out of the playful expressions you silently made at her from across the kitchen. 

“Give me just a moment,” she told you with incoherent hand motions. 

Cosette moved gracefully and confidently throughout the kitchen as she placed the finishing touches on the desserts, which were rapidly being sent out the door. They passed by you, each looking even more elegant and delicious than the last.

You were content to wait out of the way as Cosette projected orders across the kitchen. Even her commands were soft despite their sternness, and everything around you seemed to move at lightning speed. 

Even as service was beginning to wrap up, it was difficult to cross the room. As soon as the last plate left through the doors, clean-up began. You managed to make your way to the opposite end and slid onto a stool parallel with a line of frosted-glass windows. Just below was a wooden counter that stretched across the length of the wall. A protrusion from the counter sat in front of you with another stool on the other side.

Gentle raindrops pitter-pattered against the outside the windows as the ship bobbed gently on the waves. You leaned an elbow on the wooden surface in front of you, turning your head to gaze at how the water droplets rolled down the nearly opaque glass. 

When Cosette finally joined you, she all but slammed her side into the counter, reaching across the tiny table to place a packed plate in front of you. Her haphazard movements caused the plate to spin, clattering against the hard surface below. Cosette let out a loud sigh. She had a bit of whipped cream in her hair. 

“It’s been a day,” she breathed, letting her head fall back.

“I couldn’t tell,” you mused, plucking a spoon from a basket of utensils on the counter behind you. Kitchen workers passed you, continuing to scurry about with dirty plates and cooking instruments.

“It’s always busy when the kingdom sails together like this.” Cosette breathed another heavy sigh, letting her forearms and head collapse on the table. She just barely missed slamming her forehead into the plate. Cosette reached blindly across the wood surface, finding your free hand and giving it a few fatigued taps. You dug into your food. Cosette could always seem to whip something up miraculously fast. “No twins tonight?”

You shook your head.

“My whole crew is getting sick. I’ve been kinda living in the southern library.”

“When are you not?” Cosette hooked her chin over her wrist. She let out another puff of air, letting her bangs fly over her forehead. Her head rolled to the crook of her folded elbow. “You’ve been pretty busy for a few months now.”

“Not any more than usual.”

Cosette shot up, plopping her cheek in her palm as she leaned over the table. Her eyes narrowed with a round pout. Commentary mounted on your tongue, and with every unspoken thought, her bottom lip crunched into her top one. Your name left her mouth like a gentle scold.

“Not any more than you,” you corrected with a laugh. The sound seemed to melt Cosette’s playfully cross demeanor.

“No prince tonight either?” The words spilled from her with a casualness you weren’t used to. For some reason, the question made your spoon stop on your plate.  

“Prince Yonji is out of the country. I think he will be for a few days.” you started, not noticing the slight, confused scrunching of Cosette’s face. Her head tilted acutely to the side, causing a few strands of her bangs to brush across her forehead. “And he doesn’t like when I disturb his evenings anyway.” 

“Oh,” Cosette mused with some thought and a few nods, withdrawing her touch as she sat up straight. But even with her upright posture, her cheek found her palm again, this time with her elbow resting on the counter to her left. She looked to the side toward the frosted glass window. “That’s odd.”

“What?” 

“Well, Master Yonji and Mistress Reiju returned a few hours ago. I’m back here for most of the day, so I can’t say I know this for certain, but—” 

You were too focused on Cosette and your food to notice the skidding outside the kitchen doors. Being quite the sight for royalty to be meandering aimlessly around the servants’ corridors, Yonji created quite the ruckus in the halls outside in the hall. 

He moved through them quickly, unsure where he was going until he caught a glimpse of you through the circular windows on the double kitchen doors. Yonji skidded to a halt, sliding an impressive distance on his heels before bursting through the doors with enough force to make them slam against the adjacent walls.

A small hoard of servants followed him, fuzzing over him and deeply concerned about what had upset him so much that he brought himself to the servants' corridors. Despite their volley of questions, Yonji ignored every probing servant as his gaze shot past every member of the stupified kitchen staff to where you sat with Cosette across the room.

His eyes were wide and round, and his lips parted as if he wanted to yell something across the halted kitchen. But the words stalled in his throat, and after a few moments of hesitant air, Yonji’s teeth reluctantly clenched.

The entirety of the servant’s halls stilled, with the staff mixed between hiding in storage closets and the braver of the group gathering near the kitchen to see what the commotion was about. After all, a member of the royal family remotely stepping foot in any servant territory was unheard of. And while Mistress Reiju appeared to be least likely to stick up her nose due to her status, even she wasn’t one to enter to step foot in the winding halls either.

All the kitchen staff immediately stopped in their tracks and bowed. Cosette jumped to her feet, racing across the floor faster than you could blink to bow deeply at the waist in front of Yonji. 

“Master Yonji!” she exclaimed. “How might I be of service to Your Highness?”

Despite her swiftness, Cosette was just as nervous as the rest of the kitchen. You could see it in the way she seemed to tremble. You didn’t have to see her eyes to know they were clenched shut. 

Yours were as well. You had dismounted from your stool to bow deeply along with the rest of the staff. As a civilian servant, there were no rules about which parts of the kingdom you were to remain in. You weren’t a soldier, after all, and so as long as your duties were done in the library and you weren’t ordered elsewhere, you had no post to adhere to.

Still, your thoughts weren’t far from the rest of the staff in the corridors. A member of the royal family coming to the main kitchen personally certainly meant little good. The lower you held your head, the better… at least you had thought so. 

You hardly noticed as Yonji pushed past Cosette, almost knocking her to the ground as he ignored her question. It only took him a few powerful strides until he crossed the kitchen, and it wasn’t until Yonji’s shadow had dwarfed you that you knew no amount of hiding your face could get you out of this one. You just weren’t quite sure what you had done.

He stood there for a moment, wordless. You couldn’t see his face to deduce what he was thinking, although you didn’t believe you were all that good at reading Yonji’s face to begin with. 

“How might I serve you, Prince Yonji?” you hummed. 

He frowned above you.

“Did I ask you to speak?” he gritted. Yonji made an irritated wave in the air, already rushing you to obey a command he had yet to give. “Get up. Up.”

You stood up straight. You had expected Yonji’s usual disdainful scowl, but instead, you were greeted with one of the deepest frowns you had ever recalled seeing him wear. His eyes were narrowed as he gazed down at you. The skin of his forehead between his brows twitched. Slowly, Yonji’s lips parted to reveal tightly clenched teeth.

“Why aren’t you in the library?”

“All of my duties were completed for the night, Prince Yonji—”

“A library attendant should be in the library!” He hardly let you finish before grabbing you by the arm. Yonji shoved you toward the exit, trailing closely behind you like a herding dog. 

He kept a hand splayed out in the center of your back as he corralled you forward. You practically jogged to keep up with the pace Yonji pushed you, moving quickly past Cosette and the rest of the kitchen staff. 

The double doors swung open, hitting the opposite walls in the hallway of the servant’s corridors, just like when Yonji came in. Castle staff scattered, and if the gathered didn’t run to hide, they stuck to the walls to allow you and Yonji to pass. 

Pity was by far the most common expression you saw as you passed. It was a look that was glanced at you for a fraction of a second, almost as if slipping it to you as consolation for what was perceived as a poor fate. You felt as if you were being patted on the shoulder for taking a penalty for the staff as a whole, for keeping the attention of one Germa prince meant lower chances for anyone else to be targeted.

But for the pity that flashed across the lowered faces you saw, a hidden disgust lurked. You were apparently the one who brought Yonji to these halls and, in turn, a potential threat to people just trying to do their jobs, as some might see it. You could see it in a few narrowed eyes, and while no one envied your position, you knew that Yonji’s firm touch on your back was more than enough to make imaginations run wild. 

You walked in front of him, which was unheard of for servants to do. Despite the initial shock that dragged your feet when you were in the kitchen, the demanding pressure between your shoulder blades wasn’t as needed as Yonji seemed to think. You had no reason to run, and as Yonji veered you sharply into a dead end, it became clear that he knew little about where you were going. 

“Prince Yonji?” you questioned.

“What?” he snapped, glancing at you with a snarl. His eyes searched the corridor, and his head swiveled angrily like a trapped animal. The grip on the back of your clothes grew tighter, scrunching the cloth into a ball.

“The exit is this way,” you hummed, accenting your words with a point. And for as tense and anxious as the entire hall of servants was from where they bowed behind you, you didn’t appear to have any qualms with being pulled from the kitchen. “I can show you.”

Yonji took a breath in as he released his grip. The fabric under his fingers remained partially wrinkled. 

“Well, go on then,” he grumbled, “I don’t have all day.”

Yonji gestured absentmindedly down the hall, waiting for you to lead the way. You started in the right direction, with Yonji trailing after you. 

***

The water was beginning to get choppy outside. The snails were starting to sway under your feet, and while Yonji had gotten his sea legs long before you ever did, the pace you walked made you think you might tumble down at any second. You hardly had the time to glimpse the greying sky above and the dark clouds in the distance. Your main goal was getting inside; the last thing you wanted was to be swept off deck by a wave. 

When you arrived at the southern tower, you closed the large, double doors with great effort. The wind fought you the entire way, and despite his superior strength, Yonji offered you no aid in closing the weather doors. Instead, he already made his way into the main chamber of the library. A metal apparatus had already been closed over the windows, protecting the glass from the harsh elements outside and leaving the chamber somewhat smaller without the view. 

You didn’t like the electric bulbs that glowed around the room. They weren’t consistent in color, illuminating the chamber in a light that felt sterile and yet dingy at the same time. Yonji stood in the center of the room, shadows cast on him, almost appearing disjointed and random due to the inconsistent lighting. 

He turned to you when you entered. The two doors to the library were the second set you had to tussle with. While they weren’t floor-to-ceiling like the one leading into the southern tower, they were by no means short and extended to where the balcony started. With the waves becoming increasingly violent, they either needed to be tethered open or bolted shut. You tried to bolt them shut.

Yonji scanned the chamber, pouring over the rows of locked-away books. For the first time in a few weeks, the main wooden table was completely clear.

“Isn’t there something you usually do around this time?” Yonji asked. It sounded like a question he had been thinking about for several moments, but with your battle with the door, you hardly registered him speaking.

One of the doors slammed shut with the ship's rocking, nearly taking one of your fingers off as it did. You tried to hold it in place as you attempted to corral the other one. Both doors were more than twice your height and difficult to pin down with the movement of the sea below.

“All of my duties are usually done before supper, Prince Yonji.”

You managed to pull the other door closed. You held both doors by their simple handles, waiting to catch your breath before you began on the locks. They wobbled and ripped, threatening to fling you away. 

“Not one of your duties,” he huffed, rummaging through one of the storm boxes somewhere behind you. He spoke with an added gruffness as if he thought you were dodging his unspoken question on purpose. 

By the time you managed to lock both doors, Yonji had performed a complete search of the boxes that held the books from the table. You nearly keeled over, huffing from exhaustion as Yonji stood over you with crossed arms. 

“I suppose I usually do some reading before dinner—”

“What kind of library attendant are you?” He had already moved on to another topic. Yonji did so often as his brain fired and processed at a rate much higher than the average person, leaving you to connect the dots to determine what he was talking about. “Can’t even keep your shit straight.”

“I apologize for my performance not being up to standard.” You bowed.

“Which one of ‘em came down here?” 

You blinked at him; your mental scramble to piece together what he was asking you made your brain fuzzier than his actual question.

“Master Ichiji,” you answered.

“Figures,” Yonji grumbled. The ship continued to rock. You shifted your weight, making minute changes to your stance as the floor bobbed. Yonji turned to you, a hand splayed over his jaw. The knuckle of his index finger just barely touched his bottom lip. “What did he want?”

His four-word sentence was devoid of his usual bitterness for how he spoke. You would have thought Yonji’s words sounded tentative if you hadn't known better. A vein in his temple twitched as he stared off somewhere into the library chamber. The waves outside didn’t appear to affect him at all.

The memory of Ichiji flashed across your mind, and even just the vision of his cold scowl made you consider your response carefully. The truth played on your lips.

“Master Ichiji came to inspect both myself and the library. He appeared to be displeased with how much time you’ve been spending here,” you considered saying but ultimately decided that perhaps such terms sounded charged. While you believed you knew Yonji decently well, you weren’t confident in making any assumptions about his relationships with his brothers. You hardly wanted to open yourself up to scrutinization or mistakenly place yourself in a position higher than you were. 

You also knew better than to hide things from Yonji.

“I believe that Master Ichiji came to review both the library and my performance,” you offered. It was technically accurate. After all, you weren’t exactly sure why Ichiji had come to begin with.

“A what? I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Yonji spat rudely, wearing his confusion on the scrunched-up expression he wore. “What was it? Orderd by our dad or something?”

“Master Ichiji did not mention anything concerning Lord Judge,” you said. Yonji let out a great huff. 

“Pretentious dickwad,” you heard him mutter before he turned to face you. His arms had coiled over his chest once again. “What did he do?” You almost blinked at the question.

“Little more than a simple walkthrough,” you answered, glancing off toward the floor. You didn’t think mentioning Ichiji’s apparent disdain toward you was worth mentioning. It came with too many assumptions, and that was assuming Yonji cared about those things at all. “Master Ichiji didn’t say much about it.” Yonji frowned.

“A bit simple for a formal review.” The vein in his forehead twitched again. You couldn’t help but wonder why Yonji was so fixated on his brother’s visit. While underutilized, the royal library was intended as a resource for the royal family. “If he asked you to reorganize everything in reverse alphabetical order and then put it back into alphabetical order, let me tell ya that you can ignore that under my orders.”

Your breath almost stalled in your throat. Was that something they had wanted you to do?

“Master Ichiji only requested that a single book be removed from the library.” Your statement flooded the room, filling the space in the chamber from the floor to the high ceiling. Yonji paused. His eyes darted from your reading chair and back to you.

“And did you?” He glanced at you, meeting your eye in a second with narrowed ones of his own.

“Of course, Prince Yonji.” You nodded, but your affirmation did nothing in the face of Yonji’s deep scowl. 

You stood, frozen in one place, as Yonji stalked toward you. The ship continued to waver on the waves, making it difficult to keep your balance and focus. But as he grew closer, Yonji’s vexed grimace started to slowly morph into a sinister smile. His eyes widened slightly, as did yours.

“If it were between my word and my brother’s word, who would you listen to?” he asked slowly. Yonji shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks, taking a step just an inch too close before stopping. He tilted his head to the side. “Me? Or Ichiji?”

The doors to the chamber rattled just a step behind you. Yonji had cornered you with a calculated amount of space to spare, an illusion of escape even if you wanted to. Like all the pointed questions he asked, you knew Yonji had a correct answer in mind. Although there was right in the eyes of Germa, there was right in the eyes of Yonji.

“Prince Yonji, you know my loyalty lies with the Germa kingdom. I would never refuse a member of the royal family.” Yonji’s nose scrunched into a familiar snarl that melted into the corner of his lip. He was giving you an opportunity to remedy your answer. “Your Highness has spent much time here and knows this library intimately. I would readily trust your discretion, Prince Yonji.”

Yonji let out a single chuckle which bounced his chest with tentative amusement. He stared at you, judging you incredulously. 

“If I gave you an order, and Ichiji told you the opposite, you would obey me.” It was a question as much as it was a boast, like a child confirming superiority over the playground. Yonji leaned down to further lord his smug expression over you. “You’d sideline the eldest Vinsmoke prince just like that. Careful, that sounds a little treasonous to me.”

He liked to lead, asking pointed questions to drag you through carefully set-up hoops until you found yourself stuck. It took time to separate him from the game and an even greater effort to remind yourself that, for his words, Yonji was greatly pleased. He was pleased for the same reason he preferred you call him Prince Yonji.

“I have served as your personal aid for quite some time, and out of everyone in the royal family, you have spent the most time here by far. I would argue that myself and this place are at your disposal.”

“Ha! Shut up. You’re so annoying.” Yonji muscled you out of the way and made short work of the door latches you spent so long to secure. “If Ichiji— if any of my siblings— come sniffing around here and have problems, you send ‘em to me. I don’t care what any of them have to say.” Yonji turned to you as the doors flew open, nearly knocking you off your feet. His gaze was acutely darkened, and his grin was wolffish. “As far as I’m concerned, this place is mine.”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: Yes! We are back baybeeeee! I think it's awesome that this series has somewhat of a following. Thank you all. i actually already have chapter 5 written, but as a rule of thumb I only update series when the previous chapter (so this chapter) has about 100 combined likes and reblogs. So I suppose I'll see you all later.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Roger pirates x Eri!reader

Also, can Eri!reader also meet past Whitebeardcrew when they have their big celebration?

Thanks

-Tiny footsteps filled the air as you exited the cabin you shared with Rayleigh, as he was given the title as your guardian, after Roger tried to give you beer when they first met you, after you, literally, dropped out of the sky from a sparkly portal.

-You peeked around the corner into the galley, still being cautious, as you didn’t want Overhaul to find you, as you liked where you are now. The men were all nice on the ship and treated you so nicely, giving you tasty food, pretty clothes, and not hurting you!

-You saw most of the crew eating, having breakfast, as you looked around for those you felt the safest with at the moment, Rayleigh, Roger, Shanks, and Buggy/

-A hand came flying over, something you realized was Buggy’s, taking one of your own and you smiled as he led you over to the table where everyone was- as the rest of the crew smiled, greeting you warmly, making you feel so safe and welcome.

-Roger beamed brightly, looking so elated as he pulled you into his arms, “And how’s my favorite Y/N this morning?” you blinked up, slightly confused, “You know more than one Y/N?” he instantly had a hand over his mouth as tears welled in his eyes, overwhelmed on how adorable you were, not getting his joke.

-Shanks beamed brightly, handing you an apple slice from his own plate, “Here Y/N!” your eyes turned into stars, seeing the apple as you stuffed it into your cheeks, a bright smile on your lips, “Yummy!”

-Rayleigh was quick to grab you from Roger as he fell back, clutching at his chest, overwhelmed by your cuteness, landing on your ground as you looked down at him in slight worry, but Rayleigh spoke as he smiled down, “He’s fine Y/N.”

-You nodded softly as he set you next to Buggy and you smiled shyly up at him, “Thank you Buggy.” His cheeks were a bit red but tried to play it off as his hand reattached.

-You knew of Buggy’s ability, after you had found out in a bad way, where his body was in a bunch of different pieces, when you burst into tears, rushing to him, telling him not to die.

-That’s the day that the crew found out about your ability, when your horn flared to life, trying to heal him. Once Rayleigh and Roger managed to get you calmed down, you explained what that power was, your quirk.

-You had to explain about the world you came from, that most everyone had quirks, strange abilities, but unlike this world where it came from eating a Devil Fruit, it was natural.

-Rogers had been a little scary, as he had been furious when you told him about Overhaul, after they asked about your scars- about what he had been doing to you- you were just a young child.

-Now you were safe as they had adopted you into the crew- as some had discussed taking you to an island and leaving you with people, but they didn’t want to take a chance with your ability.

-Once Roger joined the world of the living again, he grinned over, “Are you excited for today Y/N?” you were eating another apple slice, your cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk, tilting your head in confusion, which had him KO-ed again.

-Rayleigh rolled his eyes as he turned to you, being a bit more immune to your dangerous abilities, “We’re meeting with some… ‘friends’ for a party.” You lit up a bit, “A party?”

-Shanks beamed, ruffling your hair lightly, “Yup- it’s another pirate crew, the Whitebeard Pirates- we’re going to an island! There’s gonna be lots of food and we’re going to have fun!”

-You felt a bit excited, but also a bit nervous, as you were only just starting to get used to your crew, who all doted on you, you felt a little scared meeting new people.

-Once at the island, your crew arrived first and Shanks took you to splash in the water, making you squeal with delight as you ran from and chased the waves, turning it into a game.

-When another ship arrived your eyes were like stars, rushing to Roger who kneeled, picking you up, “It’s a whale!” he boomed with laughter, finding your awe amusing.

-As the other crew got off, you started feeling a bit shy, wiggling and Roger put you down and you quickly stepped behind him, hiding under his jacket, peeking out.

-Roger nearly keeled over from the cuteness as you held his pant leg as you peeked out.

-Whitebeard noticed you first, seeing het little hand and he grinned broadly, “And who is this?” you peeked out a bit more, seeing the massive man grinning down at you and Roger beamed, putting a hand on your head as the other members of Whitebeard’s crew saw you, “This is our new friend, Y/N!”

-You gave a tiny wave and Whitebeard kneeled, smiling gently down at you, he knew a hurt child when he saw one, “It’s nice to meet you Y/N- my name is Edward Newgate, but everyone calls me Whitebeard, but you can call me grandpa!”

-His crew and Roger’s eyes all went wide as he said this as you stepped out, your eyes a bit wide, full of sparkles, “Really? I’ve never had a grandpa before!”

-You were quickly in Rayleigh’s arms, crying loudly as both Whitebeard and Roger collapsed, clutching at their chests as everyone else was laughing loudly, thinking it was amusing that you were so ‘deadly’.

-You enjoyed the party, watching people dance, laugh, and you got to try different types of yummy food! Whitebeard couldn’t help but grin while you were on his knee, holding a meat stick that was way too big for you, but you were trying your best in eating it.

-You now had two crews that were going to protect you, even if they didn’t always see eye-to-eye, for you- they would set he world ablaze, just to keep you safe.

[autumnmobile12]

I've seen more than a few posts by now asking why Horikoshi doesn't just kill Dabi off by now, and frankly I agree with that question. Let's be honest, killing him would be a mercy at this point and in spite of everything he's done, I don't thinking another prolonged coma with sporadic moments of consciousness is a punishment that fits the crime. He killed 30+ people, caused mass destruction, and tried to overturn an entire society.

Giving some crossover insight, Light Yagami probably killed millions with the Death Note, and I don't think even he would deserve the fate Dabi got. His poetic justice was he was an arrogant psychopath who died a pathetic death in a warehouse. The vampires of Castlevania Netflix have killed and tortured millions of people over the centuries they've been alive and out of all of them, I think only Erzsébet Báthory might deserve that fate, and that's only because she's ascended to goddess status and may be unkillable at this point and eternal imprisonment might be the only option.

So why doesn't Horikoshi kill Dabi off already?

Well....Horikoshi does have a problem with killing off characters unless its for shock value. There's no reason Nighteye, Magne, or Midnight had to die other than shock value. Most other characters that are killed off are barely in the series long enough to consider them a noteworthy death.

You could argue that Magne's death was to show that Overhaul was a new villain that meant business, but given the fact Overhaul doesn't kill or maim any other character the same way unless it's one of his nameless henchmen, his power doesn't prove to be that much of a threat to the main cast.

When Midnight reacted to Majestic's death, I legitimately asked, "Who?"

Endeavor confronts Dabi about killing Snatch and even Dabi asks, "Who?" (Also, why? Did Endeavor even know Snatch? Why bring that up?)

Why did Star have to die? To showcase how strong an opponent AFO/Shigaraki was? Uh, we already knew that...? To show why no other nations were getting involved in the fighting in Japan? A simple doomsday message from multiple nations that says, 'You're on your own,' would have sufficed. AFO could have been blackmailing world leaders into staying out of it. There could have been an international conspiracy of corrupt leaders who were in on it. They could have been having the same issue with mass prison breaks and couldn't help out. There was no need to invent a whole new character for any of that, so her death was a waste.

Arguably, Twice is the only character I can think of at the moment whose death was plot relevant. Realistically, how else was that fight going to go down? He and Hawks spend the entire battle in a weird standoff?

So either Dabi's current state is the result of creator cruelty or:

In the last couple chapters we have left, we're going to find out Eri's Quirk is not as damaged as everyone thought it was and she comes in clutch to save everyone. It's a cop-out ending, but I tentatively think this one might actually happen yet, mostly because it would neatly fix Bakugou's destroyed hand and some of the other characters who were maimed in Final War to the point their Quirks are barely usable.

Dr. Garaki cuts a deal where he biologically engineers a solution that saves everyone in exchange for a reduced sentence. Also a legit possibility. Would not be shocked if President Hawks visits the guy in prison and says, "Listen, a lot of people got really messed up in that last fight, so we've got a proposition for you." Saving both heroes and ensuring the villains actually live out a life sentence.

That unknown figure wandering around the wasteland does prove to be Shigaraki and he's got some unknown Quirk from AFO that could potentially save his comrades and we're headed for a Harry Potter Musical 'It's Not Over Yet' twist ending.

If the rumors about My Hero getting a sequel series are true, Horikoshi may be keeping Dabi around in case he has a use for him there. I don't know how that would even be possible, but I do admit the possibility of this conversation does make me laugh a little:

Pro Shouto: The plan couldn't have gone more wrong. Deku was in the wrong place. Bakugou was being Bakugou. Yaoyorozu had a relapse in nervousness and just created those weird dolls of hers instead of the materials we actually needed. The whole thing made the civilians laugh though. Not mean laughter, they were entertained and that's important, but if we were still in school, Aizawa would have expelled us all for sure.

Dabi: ...as much I just love our bi-weekly challenge of how long we can keep a conversation going before that heart monitor goes off and they put me back to sleep, do I have to listen to you bitch about work?

Pro Shouto: You said you wanted to hear about the outside world.

Dabi: Yeah, the fucking weather and shit.

Pro Shouto: You want a full forecast or--

Dabi: Don't make me come down there.

...

Realistically, none of those four scenarios are gonna happen, but the sequel rumors are preventing me from discounting them outright.

I would say there's no point in having that last minute 'everyone is saved' because that's it, that's the end, but then I remember Zuko's last line in Avatar is, "Where is my mother?" and opened up that whole subplot for the graphic novels.

So I don't know anymore.

[in-kensington-gardens]

"ultimately, love exists in the lone man who allows himself to be loved even when he's scared."

🌿 a sakura haruka character analysis.

we are made of hearts that echo the songs of both hope and despair — and we are all made of stories... unconsciously writing strings of letters, adding sentences over sentences sometimes larger than the pages. a syntax some can empathise, but surely not many can understand on the first read.

an overture... a chapter of grief, of fear, of regrets, of joy — and sometimes, of love.

sakura haruka's began at the first hour of the sun's peak, when he met nirei in a shadowed alleyway, and it overflowed into a rowdy classroom of faces who would soon wear the look of familiarity. shame was what he felt first — he had not known love. it was something he never found from others... the one thing he's never had the privilege of having.

it magnified in the instant he was made representative. an odd sense of belonging bubbling in the pits of his chest, right under the surface of being needed, but a feeling he could not quite pin down as he overhauls with an exaggerated doom. fear was what he felt then — he had not known love. it never occurred to him that regardless of what he could offer, he was someone they believed in unconditionally.

before he realised love existed in the small corners of his classroom, he felt his first surrender. oddly, it was a defeat that which didn't feel like a loss. a defeat he surmised was a sense of equal bewilderment and relief, as though he had been clutching unto a thin thread for so long, nails digging in his skin, and only finally understood the concept of peace. as though surrender was what he was meant to do all along — and it felt right.

a punch to the gut, both literally and figuratively, when sugishita practically forced the truth into his system that one night with noroshi and sakura broke.

you're not alone. we have your back — so don't be afraid to fall.

sugishita wasn't one for many words, but as the mantra of furin's top dog echoed down all the way to the borders, "talk with your fists." and though one-sided, it was a conversation sakura would forever remember.

we are made of hearts that echo the songs of both hope and despair, and we are all made of stories. sakura once believed his was that of a lone man's book, a journey following hands that held only the self and never others, and a cup that filled itself, never by others. a lone man who only knew love in the way he put himself to bed when he was tired, and in the way he carried himself to the stairs even when his knees ached. a lone man who believed love only existed when he was alone.

but love also exists in a run-down box of walls, graffitis signed by hands that try to make a purpose. love exists in the crests of pale knuckles that fight alongside him, in laughter that rings in forgotten hallways. love exists in taiyakis handed in the streets as an extension of thanks, in the omurice sakura makes a point to always have from kotoha. it exists in the scribbles on nirei's notes, in suo's left that rights him on his feet when he forgets his place.

ultimately, love exists in the lone man who allows himself to be loved even when he's scared.

he realises his book wasn't much of a book as it was a love letter. when we are created with hearts that echo a song of hope and despair, who are we to deprive ourselves of the one thing that carries us all?

[epickiya722]

"He only criticizes the villains, he never tries to understand them, he doesn't criticize the heroes."

So, y'all don't see Izuku grew up in a society where the Pro Heroes are celebrities so of course, this CHILD isn't going to see them as the bad guys? In fact, isn't Izuku the same person who actually talked back to Endeavor? Let's not forget this moment here.

Izuku ain't always such a "sweet, obedient" boy to the heroes. Sometimes, he'll even go against their word if it means helping out one of his friends.

Just because we don't see Izuku say something against the Heroes (some who are teaching him, let's not forget that) doesn't mean he's completely under their control or doesn't have the room to criticize them.

And with the villains...

So, y'all going to act like Izuku hasn't been attacked and almost killed by some of these villains? Because if you're going to go "He criticizes the villains" as if he shouldn't, then that must mean he shouldn't criticize villains like Muscular, Moonfish, Overhaul....

Like, that's clearly what some of you seem to think.

Of course, he's going to criticize the villains at times! Don't act as if you haven't criticize someone for doing something bad to you. Yes, you may later try to understand why, but don't try to act as if it's unrealistic and "I'm clutching pearls because how dare this child do such thing".

When someone does something you don't like, what do you do? You criticize them, don't you? Hell, some of you criticize some people for less.

And to be like "He doesn't try to understand" is bullshit. It's not that he doesn't try to understand. It's not that he doesn't want to.

He does try to understand and sometimes he doesn't. Even so, he has before.

Sometimes, it's like Izuku forgets what he's capable of because this is from the arc with Gentle. He had a self-reflection here, seeing himself in Gentle and believed he may have turned out the same way. He understood where Gentle was coming from.

He didn't just want to save Tenko because it would make "look better" or "some messiah". He saw a little boy that was just like him. He saw someone who needed to be saved and even went against the idea of killing him that the Vestiges brought up (there again with going against the heroes).

Here's the thing... it seems to me that some of you want Izuku to understand ALL the villains as if...

He's the only character in existence of this manga

And every single villain is his to fight

He's the main character because he's telling the story. He's the focus most of the time. But that doesn't equal he must do everything.

Not every villain is his to fight and he isn't the only one who should go out his way to understand why this villain may decided to be a villain. I thought this was supposed to be a team effort? That you're not alone?

I mean, some of the fandom here loved the idea of the villains being one big happy group and team-ups and squads, so why when it comes to this... Izuku gotta be solo?

I remember him wanting to be a hero, but I don't recall him wanting to be a solo hero who wants to fight every bad guy in existence. When it comes to teamwork, Izuku is a team player.

[deusvervewrites]

For the ask game: wild card au

Preferably at the point of persona awakening for one of the characters.

“Fortuna! Tetrakarn!”

Golden light seizes Overhaul’s arm only inches away from her savior’s face before Overhaul is thrown backwards.

“You can’t keep this up forever!” Overhaul screams. “I’ll tear you apart! How dare you interfere!”

“How dare you!” her savior retorts. The rest of their exchange is lost to Eri, who has not once looked away from Overhaul’s hand.

He’s right.

Sooner or later her savior will slip and he’ll be dead and it will be all her fault again and again—

“Are you content for your story to end here?”

Eri gasps at the voice that echoes within her head. Her entire body wracks with pressure, like something is desperately trying to crawl out of her. She stumbles, clutching at her hair as sweat pours down her face.

“Will you stay with your captor and die among rams, or will you fly like a raven over the snow?”

Eri groans, barely keeping herself upright. “Who—who are you?”

“I am thou and thou art I. Will you finally make our contract and cease this cowering? Take your destiny for yourself!”

Her fists tighten as she snaps to attention, unaware of the golden glow of her eyes.

When she speaks, it sounds like freedom.

“Deirdre!”

[perfecto2024]

Our car mechanical services cover essential maintenance and repairs, including engine diagnostics, transmission repair, brake system servicing, and suspension and steering adjustments. These services ensure your vehicle remains safe, efficient, and performs at its best.

[thefreelanceangel]

Built as household companions and caretakers, the Celestite ElectroLite 5 models became obsolete almost immediately. The "ElectroLite" advertisement exaggerated; all of the Celestite models required one full electrope system overhaul over their lifetimes.

Rather too expensive for a luxury item, especially when cheaper and more efficient models were available in short order.

One Celestite model still wanders through Everkeep, housing a soul hastily reclaimed and installed before the Celestite inventor succumbed to old age.

Lite5 possesses vague memories of her wife, who died shortly after rescuing her soul from being processed. She remembers what companionship felt like, what love felt like, and sits on the shelf to wait for a chance at that again.

And Lite5 remembers all of the others who bought her over the years, who turned to her for friendship and warmth, who clutched at her hands in their last moments.

Perhaps the living remnants of their bloodline forget, but Lite5 remembers.

[phantoms-lair]

You wanted Red Hood vs Overhaul, you got it

Eri clutched Deku tightly and he sped away, Overhaul right on their trail leaving a swath of destroyed objects and people in his wake. And as soon as he caught up to them, that was going to be Deku. He was going to die because he wanted to protect her.

Deku was wrong. She was a curse. She clutched his shoulders tighter, tears welling in her eyes. Her horn began to glow as her quirk subconsciously activated. Because of her Daddy disappeared, and then Overhaul used her to make his bullets to steal other people's powers. She'd caused nothing but pain and misery, she was the one who should disappear!

Her horn grew as her quirk tried to activate. But much like you can't uninstall a computer program that's running, Rewind couldn't erase itself or it's user while it was activated. Eri's despair tried to force it over and over again. Just as Overhaul's outstretched hand was about to brush Deku's back Rewind divided by zero and they all vanished.

~

It was the smell that hit Midoriya first. The air around him had been full of dust and the scent of blood. Suddenly there was none of that, but an almost nauseating amount of fumes and unwashed humanity. Also they were in free fall.

He quickly assessed. He wasn't in Tokyo anymore. The cars were on the wrong side of the road and the signs in English. But all that quickly was overshadowed by the horror that they were in a residential area.

He had to get Eri to safety while luring Overhaul away from the area. He did his best to get they lay of the land before he'd fallen enough for buildings to block his view. Looked like there was a harbor. Maybe if he could get him there, there'd be less people for him to destroy. And hopefully some local heroes would come to help.

Path set, Midoriya used Full Cowling to kick off a building and launch himself away.

~

"Anyone have eyes on what the Hell is happening?!" Hood demanded over the coms.

"Two metas, Boss. One Robin-aged, one adult. Robin-aged one has what looks to be a small child. He's fleeing from the adult and heading towards the harbor. Small child looks to be injured."

Hood adjusted the route his motorcycle was going in order to better intercept. "How badly injured?"

"Bandages on her arms and legs, but it's hard to get close enough to see more, sorry." His lieutenant sounded apologetic, but from the sounds of Hood could hear from back where he was he couldn't blame her. "Powers?" Might as well know what he was getting into.

"Robin-aged seems to have some green lightning around him, but he's not projecting it. It seems to give him either a strength or speed boost, hard to tell when all he's doing is running. Adult looks like he can destroy or remake anything his touches and - Gah."

"Did you get hit?"

"Negative, sorry for scaring you, sir, Adult caught a piece of his own shrapnel in his eye. He then touched his face with his hand and half of it exploded, then reformed. I wasn't expecting it."

Good to know. Especially because she might have just told him exactly how to take this guy down. "I'm going to intercept the kids. Deploy Code Beta Omega on my mark." Hood's helmet switched modes from camera to radar as he pulled his bike even with the fleeing kid (who was definitely getting a speed boost out of his power if nothing else) as his people set off numerous bright flares right in front of the adult meta's face, followed by wide area smoke bombs. "Need some help?"

"Are you a local hero?" The older kid asked in very heavily Japanese accented English.

"I'm the protector of this area." Thankfully Japanese was one of the languages he was fluent in, so he could speak to the kid in his own language. "Get on."

The boy hopped on, the smaller kid strapped to his back and Hood had to respect his sense of balance. The green lightning vanished as the kid took a breath.

"Can you get Eri to safety?" the boy asked. "I can buy some time with Overhaul. Lure him out to the water where fewer people will get hurt."

The way he said it, it sounded like the cost of that time would be his life. And the littler one, Eri, seemed to pick up on it. "You don't have to do that Deku." she said in a shaky voice. "He won't hurt you if I go back to him. And I'll be fine. He won't kill me, even when he accidently takes too much of my blood, he can just take me apart and put me back together again."

The words were brave but the fear and remembered pain in them was palpable and Hood saw green in a way that had nothing to do with Deku's hair, outfit or lightning. He sharply turned the motor cycle into an alley, where he knew a group of his people would be evacuating civilians. "Get them to the clinic. The girl needs help and the boy probably does too."

The boy looked panicked. "But Overhaul-"

"-is Done." Hood finished. "Overhaul is done."

For a moment the boy looked like he'd bluescreened, then "Overhaul is mysophobia, destroying his mask should get a panic reaction. Especially if you spit on him or something. He's arrogant, sadistic, and enjoys psychological manipulations. He also have some bullets that destroy quirks, so be very wary if he uses a gun over his hands."

"Quirks?" Everything in Hood's soul wanted to get going and destroy the man who'd hurt a child like this.

There was a split second of panic on the boys face as he tried to reword "Powers? His lets him disassemble and reassemble anything he touches in any configuration he chooses."

"Power destroying bullets? Hood laughed. "Kid, I don't think you know where you are. This is Gotham." And with that he left the kids in the hands of his crew and stalked back to where Overhaul was about to meet his end.

The smoke was beginning to clear as Hood strode to Overhaul's location. Deku had given him what information he could, and he appreciated it, really he did. Any other Bat or Bat-Adjacent would have made good use it, especially the mysophobia.

Hood was not going to. He'd already gotten all intel he needed earlier. He took a good look at the man. Huh, when Deku said he had a mask Hood was expecting a standard supervillain mask, not a honest to goodness plague doctor one. He's sure the doctors at Arkham would have a fun time pulling apart this whackjob's psyche.

Not that he was going to give them a chance. Not after hearing a little girl talk about repeatedly being ripped apart and pulled back together.

"Where did they go?" asked Overhaul, in a tone that suggested he was in charge and giving up the intel was the only way Hood would live through the next few minutes.

Cute.

"Doesn't matter. You're never going to see either one ever again." Hood smirked under his helmet. "In fact, enjoy your view of the ass-end of Gotham. It's the last thing you're ever going to see."

Overhaul sneered. "Eri will be so upset. Another person dead because of her. She really is a curse."

The green was overwhelming. The only thing keeping Hood in control was the knowledge that he was going to give the Pit exactly what it wanted.

Overhaul touched the ground and it exploded, rearranging itself as large spikes erupted from the ground. Most people would have been impaled. Most people weren't trained by the Bat, the League of Assassins, and the All-Caste. "You heroes are so annoying. Like any one of you would be able to properly use an asset like her."

"SHE IS A CHILD." Hood roared. One of the spikes nicked him, but only caused surface damage, naturally. It would have been embarrassing to do more than was entirely when one gets hit on purpose. He needed two things. Overhaul provided the presence of absolute evil, and he provided his own blood. With two flashes the All Blades appeared and two hands fell to the ground.

Overhaul stared for a moment. He'd lost arms before and it was easy enough to replace one using the other, but he'd never lost both at once. His mind raced, trying to come up with a solution, and his knees began to buckle.

He never hit the ground however, as Hood caught him by the throat with one hand. With the other he ripped off the mask before pushing Overhauls face into some street sludge. This being Gotham and Crime Alley in particular, who knows what it might have been. Guess he was going to use the kid's info on mysophobia after all.

"It's tempting, you know, to keep you alive just long enough to watch infection set it. But people like you do tend to find a way of rebounding and I'm not going to risk it. I do want to catch up with those kids and make sure they're okay, so I'll give myself...ten minutes? Yeah, ten minutes sounds good. Ten minutes to show you exactly what happens to people who hurt kids in my territory. Ten minutes to make you beg for death, then - like the kind soul I am- answer your prayers."

Overhauls eyes were wide with terror. "But...but you're a hero?"

Hood grinned cruelly under his helmet. "I haven't called myself one of those for a long time. And Babs," he said, seeming to address no one. "I don't want Daddy Bats or any of his crew interfering."

For the next ten minutes, he was going to enjoy himself.

[hotshotsxyz]

nothing's the same except everything

(buddie) (1.1k words) (6x15 coda) this started as a 6x15 coda and ended as spec for the rest of the season so ?? pls enjoy whatever it is i just did

On average, adults spend two hours per night dreaming. 

Ever since his coma, Buck’s wondered if that statistic is skewed. Were coma dreams counted? If they weren’t, should they have been? And even if the statistic is right, does it take into account the way he is now?

Because he’s different. Buck knows he’s different. Eddie knows too, apparently, but it’s not just the him that interacts with the world every day that’s changed, it’s the him that lives in his dreams, too. 

His dreams, jagged and sharp where they used to be soft and hazy. Buck’s different, and god, he needs to understand why. 

Natalia helps, in a strange, roundabout sort of way. Not because she understands him, no, though he’s embarrassed to admit it took him four entire dates to figure that one out. 

(And honestly, in what world was someone he just met going to get him like that?)

Anyway, it’s not what she sees in him that helps, not really, it’s what she asks when, at the end of their fourth ‘date’, Buck tells her he doesn’t want to see her again. 

“What is it you’re still trying to figure out?” She tilts her head to the side in that enigmatic way of hers, and though she doesn’t explain herself further, Buck knows what she means. 

You’ve seen what happens at the end, what else is there to know?

“What happens now,” he replies. 

No weight falls from his shoulders when he ends things with Natalia, not like it did with Taylor. He thinks maybe it’s because, for once in his life, he let things run their course. Chose not to cling to a sinking ship. 

It doesn’t really solve anything, anyway. 

He says as much to Eddie one night, clutching the neck of a bottle tight between his fingers. 

“So what now?” Eddie asks, leaving him all the room in the world to deflect. He finds he doesn’t really want to. 

“I think,” Buck says, frowning, picking at the condensation-covered yellow label of his beer, “I think I’m going to start therapy again.”

A line of tension seems to release from Eddie’s shoulders and he nods. “That’s good, Buck,” he says, “I’m glad.”

There’s something else he wants to say, needs to maybe, but the words don’t come. It’s a feeling, and for the moment it’s vague. He’s got time, though. Enough time to find the words. 

Buck wakes with a start. It’s hard to say, these days, whether he’s had a dream or a nightmare. The scenes are always disjointed, riddled with faces he doesn’t recognize wearing expressions he wishes he could forget. 

Have you figured it out yet? They ask him. 

How much longer do you think it can wait?

“You know,” Eddie says as they survey the remains of a burnt out house, waiting for the okay to begin overhaul, “it’s okay if you don’t have all the answers.”

Buck turns to him, cocks his head to the side in a silent question. 

Eddie shakes his head. “I just mean– you can ask. Whatever questions you’ve been sitting on. Maybe Bobby’ll know, or Hen. Or– maybe I will.”

Buck swallows harshly. “I’m not sure I even know where to start,” he says. 

“That’s okay too,” Eddie replies. 

That night, he dreams of water. He claws at it, desperate to pull his way to the surface. The scene fractures, and he’s dangling from the top of the ladder truck. It groans loudly and begins to tip, slow at first, then fast, until the ground is hurtling towards him and–

Buck!

He wakes with a gasp and reaches for his phone with trembling fingers. 

He dials and waits. Waits until–

“Buck?” Eddie’s voice is sleep-rough and worried, but Buck can’t bring himself to be sorry for calling. 

“What happened?” he asks, so quiet he can’t be sure Eddie hears him. 

For a moment, only the sound of breathing reaches his ear. 

Then, Eddie tells him. 

It’s strange, in hindsight, that Buck never thought to ask whose hands he came back to life beneath. Stranger still, the way his heart seems to react to the news. 

Every time he sees Eddie, it gives a little jump, a small acknowledgement of the man that saved it. 

Nothing’s the same but everything is, and the only constant in the universe is change but statistically, things always regress to the mean. 

On average, adults dream two hours per night, and now, Buck only ever seems to dream of Eddie. 

“What do you think dreams mean?” Buck asks Hen one morning, apropos of nothing. 

“Why?” she asks, “Have a weird one last night?”

Buck shrugs. “Something like that.”

Hen pauses for a moment, takes a moment to look at him, really look. “I’m not sure they mean anything,” she says finally. “But how you feel in the morning… that’s got to be worth something.”

“Do you think I’m looking for the right things?” Buck asks Maddie.

 

“How do you know when you’ve found what you’re looking for?” He asks Chim. 

“Are we clear to head out?” he asks Bobby. 

The roads are always bad after an earthquake, but Buck navigates them carefully, driving slowly around old potholes and new cracks in the asphalt. None of the traffic lights are working, so Buck takes a circuitous route to the loft, making only right turns where he’d usually go left. What’s usually a twenty minute drive takes over an hour tonight, but they make it without incident, and that’s all Buck really cares about. 

“I’ve got him,” he whispers to Eddie, nodding towards Christopher, who’s half-asleep in the back of the Jeep. 

Eddie smiles tiredly at him and shoulders his bag. 

As they wait for the elevator, another question occurs to Buck. “How did you know?”

Know what? Eddie should probably ask. Because Buck hasn’t really asked a question. He could be asking about anything. Could be asking–

How did you know I needed the jaws earlier?

How did you know what I wanted for dinner last night?

How did you know you could trust me with Chris?

How did you know I wasn’t the same?

How did you know I needed permission to ask?

Could be asking any of it. But he’s actually asking all of it. 

Eddie smiles at him, tired but warm, wearing that soft expression he only ever seems to direct at him or Christopher. “Because I know you,” he says simply. 

Buck’s eyes snap to Eddie’s, because suddenly, he gets it. I know you, Eddie says, and he’s right. Eddie knows him, and he knows Eddie. 

All those weeks ago, he’d wondered aloud: what happens now? And this– this is the answer. Him. Eddie. 

“Oh,” he says softly, a little awestruck. 

Impossibly, Eddie’s expression softens further. 

For once in his life, Buck knows exactly what happens next. 

The ground shakes beneath their feet. Eddie’s eyes widen and he reaches for Buck, even as the shifting concrete has him stumbling back. The building around them groans and screeches, and Buck pulls Christopher tight against his chest. 

Fear twists its way into Eddie’s expression. It’s the last thing Buck sees before the world crumbles around them.

[corruflood]

Rest For The Damned

Bnha & Male Reader "Prologue"

Eri tries to run away from Overhaul and clings onto the first person she sees. This is (Y/N) who from unfortunate first hand experience with terrible people can immediately tell he has to get Eri away from this man. Even if it means getting chased by Le Million and Deku.

Overhaul Arc

Rest. No other word could pull you apart so ruthlessly.

"You've done enough. Rest." As if the task was so simple you could stumble into it blind and drunk.

You will not rest. Neither does Midoriya green hair and eyes that contain a universe so filled with hope that you knew it had to be born from despair.

It goes like this. One afternoon ruins a life worth of hiding, stuck between shadows of buildings and street busy enough to be lost in. There is a girl. She is young and small and clinging to your leg as if the whole world would fall apart around her if  she did.

Then seeing the man she was with, average height, brown hair and face hidden behind a mask. You knew she was right.

Instincts and gut feelings forged and tempered to a deadly point practically scream in harmony upon making eye contact with the man.

Your about to speak or rather spit venom concealed as false concern for the man and his situation when someone else arrived well two someone's.

You barely recognized the blonde but you know Midoriya or you knew how he frantically shoved gauze into a wound on your torso in an alleyway years ago.

He doesn't seem to have the same recognition. Good.

Stumbling back hand gently place on the little girl's head, plans speeding through your head fast enough to set off traffic cameras.

All of then too slow, not viable in a way that would not make enemies but then they are asking for Eri the child who is still clinging to you leg and smells so much of fear that it clogs up any rational thought. You run.

Child in arms and heroes on heel. The devil feels closer but he hadn't moved from the alleyway. Alarm bells rings but you've been living two steps from death for far too long.

A body comes careening out the pavement in front of you, ducking into the alleyway a ghost of a hand on your back while even smaller hands clutch desperately into your shirt.

The dead end doesn't stop your movement, just makes you run faster, your energy was low but you can pull off a disperse when stressed enough.

The world shatters.

Dense air forces itself into your lungs it feels like drowning, hands go numb and your vision blurs before the world shifts and puts itself back together again.

Pins and needles travel up your hands and feet, head splitting open in the wake of a headache but you can breathe again and there is a little girl in your arms that looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.