#I guess it's from years of sleep deprivation and not breathing while I sleep xD;
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moisette · 3 months ago
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I'm not sure how to feel about Windows of Opportunity. I know it can be annoying to chase someone that has it but I also like using it as Survivor. I know you can memorize spawns - I see Otz talk about it a lot and I try to remember where stuff is but...I struggle a lot with my memory. I used Small Game for totems for a long time and it actually helped me memorize locations ._. I wasn't trying to memorize them - it was a side effect, I guess. I'm hoping maybe Windows will do the same.
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zaiban2989 · 2 years ago
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List five things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last ten people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity!🍄🌵
Hey sorry, it's been a while since that has been sitting in my inbox but thanks for spreading the positivity!
Sooooo 5 things which make me happy, let's go:
BakuDeku hglmdsmdjs, it really had to be the first considering I cannot spend a day without thinking, talking, dreaming, and watching those two idiots together (yeah I'm seriously gone) 🧡💚
Singing! I actually don't like my voice much irl I sound like a squeaky kitty buuuut I just love it - actually don't mind recording over songs too for covers haha. Singing is a huge stress reliever for me, although I do it less often than I used to (fucking life)
Food lmao there's this expression in French, "ventre sur pattes" (literally a 'stomach on feet'), that is me. I breathe and live for food, so much that my hubby is exasperated by the fact that I could have just eaten and already thinking of what's for the next meal dhdsqipefrh Food is life, people!
Writing... even though I haven't really done it properly in years now *sigh* I've been thinking of so many fics for bkdk honestly but every time I sit down to write, my mind goes blank and I have this sense of dread that it's gonna be crap so I just...don't. Instead, I write stupid posts here on Tumblr lmao sorry guys for spamming your dash!
Last one hmmm... Definitely sleeping/my gigantic bed (you guys would be shocked by the bed dimensions and the number of pillows required for me to fucking sleep fheomskldme). I sleep very poorly, I've probably been sleep deprived for the last 12-13 years now, I can't seem to change my sleeping habits and I feel tired all the time but I fucking LOVE being in bed under the blanket with the AC on and just fucking pass out (that happens rarely but when it does it's just the best feeling cuz I wake up so fucking energised)
So yeah I guess those are the little things which make me happy - could be cheesy and add my hubby somewhere there but that's not really what's been asked XD
Let's share the love and positivity peeps! 💜
Zaï.
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merakiaes · 5 years ago
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A Second Chance - John Shelby
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Pairing: John Shelby x reader
Requested: Yes. 
Prompts: None. 
Warnings/notes: This is a part two to “A Choice”. It’s not proofread and I was severely sleep-deprived when writing this so I apologize in advance if there are any mistakes or if it sucks xD 
Wordcount: 4927
Summary: Four years after leaving John and the Peaky Blinders behind to start a better life, you return to England and run into old friends. 
Part One - A Choice
Life without John was just as painful as you had imagined it to be. The nightmares about your brother’s death that only he had been able to keep at bay had returned already the first night away from him, having you wake up screaming and drenched in sweat in the middle of the night.
After leaving your shared home without as much as a bag of clothes, you had gone straight to London where Ada was residing with Karl, and she had opened up her home to you without as much as a doubt, letting you cry into her arms, listening to you as you talked about your situation and doing her absolute best to soothe you during the night.
The next day, you had sat down and talked about what you were going to do for the future. She offered to go back to Small Heath and talk to her family, get their assistance on the divorce you wanted.
But she was different than the rest of them. She was on your side, he didn’t agree with her brothers’ morals and ways to make a living.
Tommy had never liked your attitude for the business and more specifically John’s part in it, and Arthur didn’t breath without his younger brother’s consent, so you knew that that going to them for help would never be an option. 
And either way, all of them held the same belief; that no one divorced a Shelby. So Ada did the only thing she could.
She gave you some of her clothes, helped arrange your travels, gave you enough money to be able to live on wherever you ended up, until you could find yourself a job, and sent you off before John and the rest of the Peaky Blinders could come looking for you.
Ironically, they came knocking at her door only an hour after you had bid each other goodbye at the docks, John more or less storming inside the house and rushing through every room on the look for you while Tommy, Arthur and Polly tried to hold a calm conversation with Ada.
But Ada wasn’t about to give up your location, and they knew it. And they couldn’t do anything about it, because they didn’t have anything to hold against her.
All she did was tell them that you were safe, and that you were better off without the constant death and bloodshed, which only broke John’s heart even further, because even though he hadn’t been willing to admit it at the moment of your argument, he knew that she was right, and it hurt.
It hurt to know that he wasn’t good for you.
And he wasn’t the only one in pain. The nightmares of only your brother dying quickly turned into both of them dying, and sometimes, even Tommy and Arthur, too. And the dreams didn’t stop.
Even three and a half years later, you would wake up drenched in your own sweat and trembling with fear every night.
You had ended up in Australia after a long, long journey. There, you took up work as a nurse at an orphanage, managing to land yourself employment already on your first day there as the former nurse had recently passed away in very tragic circumstances.
You mourned the loss of the love of your life, even more so when you had to work with children all day, every day; children that could have been yours and his in the future.
Every time you would sign your name on a paper, your heart would break a little more, as you still carried his name seeing as you hadn’t gotten an official divorce. 
And you couldn’t be bothered to send him divorce papers, knowing very well that Tommy would most likely be able to track you to your locations by sniffing the papers like the absolute bloodhound he was.
You stayed completely miserable for six whole months, falling into a deep depression and feeling that life no longer had anything to offer as you had no one left. 
But with a bit of encouragement from your new-found friends, you pulled yourself together and sought out your own happiness, adopting two of the very children you had been caring for in the past months.
Their names were Sheryl and Henry and they were siblings.
Sheryl was a seven-year-old girl with bronzed skin and a head of big, golden curls and dimples that could make anyone melt on the spot.
They had been made orphans when their parents had passed away in sickness four years prior, but despite the unfortunate lives they held, Sheryl was one of the brightest souls you had ever met.
Henry was nine at the time, a lot paler than his younger sister and a lot more reserved and careful. 
While Sheryl never seemed to be able to sit still, always having to run around and talk to everyone she came across, Henry was quiet and loved to sit in silence and read.
He was far too mature for his age and probably smarter than you. He had an amazing way with words and wanted to become a doctor when he grew up. He was also very good with numbers, which always made you think of John.
They made your life easier, and soon, although never stopping to love John, you found yourself moving on. You packed away the jewelry you had been wearing upon first arriving in Australia, that John had gifted you throughout the years, and hid it away along with everything else that reminded you of him.
Four years had passed since you left Small Heath. Sheryl was now eleven and Henry thirteen, the three of you living an as normal life as you could get.
You had kept in contact with Ada during the first year, but after that, you had stopped receiving letters, and you guessed they just kind of forgot about you. 
But you didn’t blame them. 
You probably should have forgotten them a long time ago, too. But for some reason, despite not regretting your decision, you didn’t.
But you knew you would have been a lot more mentally damaged if you had to watch John die. So this was the best for everyone.
And you liked it in Australia. You liked the heat, the nature, the people, and most of all; the calm. Bar fights and brawls on the streets was still something you saw every once in a while, but the violence wasn’t half as bad here as it had been in Birmingham.
But you could only stand the heat and sun for so long.
Four years after your arrival, you took the kids with you and left for London, starting a new chapter in your lives.
Seeing as you hadn’t heard anything from Ada the past few years, you had no idea what she was up to these days. 
After getting settled into the inn you would be staying at for the first week in London, just until you made up your mind whether you would be staying permanently or only for a while, you headed off to Ada’s old house with the kids in tow, taking them out sight-seeing on the way.
Upon arriving, however, a woman you had never seen before opened the door, and informed you that the woman who had lived there before her had moved to America with her son a year prior.
It saddened you that you wouldn’t be able to see her and introduce her to Henry and Sheryl, but you were happy she had been able to go off into the world on her own like she had always wanted.
You could admit you were anxious to run into any of the other Shelbys, knowing you’d have to introduce them to your children, but unlike when you had first left England when the Peaky Blinders had been on everyone’s tongues, you hadn’t heard a single word about them.
It made you slightly panicked, fear that they had finally met their ruler and gotten themselves killed filling your body, but you didn’t dare ask anyone about it, scared about what you might have found out if you did.
So you just put on a brave smile, showing the kids around the capital of your home country, the three of you having a jolly good time.
You had just entered the food market, the very same one that had been there every Thursday even back when you still lived there, and Henry and Sheryl had run off to the nearby kennel to pet the puppies running around outside in a small enclosure.
While they played with the small balls of fur, you took the opportunity to stroll along the stands of food and vegetables, starting to plan dinner for the evening to come.
You collected the things you thought you would be needing and paid for them, packing them in a brown fabric bag. You turned on your heel, still fiddling with the bag in your hands, when a voice suddenly spoke from right beside you.
“(Y/N)?”
You sucked in a breath at the familiar voice speaking your name, with the same smooth tone that you had fallen in love with all those years ago.
Your heart instantly picked up speed in your chest and you breathed shakily as you slowly turned around.
“John.” You breathed, your eyes growing big with disbelief as you spotted him, your heart beating even more violently once you caught sight of him.
And he was just as shocked as you were, looking as pale as if he had just witnessed a ghost.
“(Y/N). I-“
“(Y/N)? Is that you?” Another voice joined the conversation before John had the chance to say whatever it was he had been about to say.
The shock quickly melted off and was replaced with a wide smile as a now short-haired Polly emerged from the crowd in the market.
“Polly!” You greeted her, and she smiled a smile to match your own.
“Oh! It’s so good to see you!” She said, wasting no time in taking you into a hug. 
You hugged her back, growing sad at the familiar feeling of the motherly love you had gotten from her all while knowing her niece and nephews.
As you broke apart again, she threw a look over her shoulder, waving her hand. “Boys!”
There was no doubt in your mind who she was calling for, and not even half a minute later, Tommy, Arthur and another boy you couldn’t quite recognize emerged from the crowd, as well.
Arthur was the one to spot you first, and a cheeky grin immediately spread on his face. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He cursed, shaking his head. “If it isn’t (Y/N). It’s good to see you nice and well, lass.”
“Hello, Arthur.” You chuckled, accepting the embrace he offered upon reaching you, hugging him quickly before turning to look at Tommy.
You offered him a smile and a nod of your head. “Tommy.” You acknowledged, and he tipped his head back to you, taking the cigarette out of mouth to answer.
“(Y/N). You’re looking good.”
Offering him a smile, you thanked him. “Thank you.”
You then turned to the third boy, or young man, was better suited, narrowing your eyes slightly as you scanned his freckled face, trying to find something familiar that could put a name to his person. 
And it all fell into place when you caught the small scar on the side of his lips, a smile yet again rising to your lips.
“Finn?”
The boy in question nodded his head, a faint smile pulling at his lips, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“You look so different, I barely even recognized you!” You said, and met him halfway for a hug. He was now taller than all of his brothers, towering over them with a good margin.
“Yes, well, it’s been a while.” He chuckled, and you could sense immediately that he was nothing like his brothers. But then again, you had known that already when he was just a little boy.
“Four bloody years, it’s been.” Arthur jumped in, laughing slightly.
You stepped back after hugging Finn and opened your mouth to speak again, but before you could get another word out, a shy voice called out from behind you.
“Ma?”
You whipped around, turning to face Henry and Sheryl who were now standing behind you, watching the Shelbys with curious and shy eyes.
You put on a smile, turning to face them completely. “Yes, darling?”
Henry let his eyes linger on the strangers behind you for another moment, before turning to look at you with his soft, careful eyes. “Can we have some money for treats?”
Sheryl was smiling expectedly at his side, and you looked between them, shaking your head. “It’s a Wednesday and you haven’t had dinner yet.”
“Please.” Sheryl begged, pouting and looking up at you with her big eyes, while Henry just kept smiling shyly.
“Just this once?”
You let your eyes shift between them for a moment, all too aware of the Shelbys watching the scene unfold. You sighed, reaching your hand into the pocket of your coat.
“Fine, but just a small bag, yeah?” You told them, fishing out a note form your wool jacket and handing it over to Henry, who instantly lit up in a big smile.
“Yes!” Sheryl cheered, and Henry was quick to nod his head.
“Promise, thanks.” He agreed, coming up to you and leaving a hasty kiss at your cheek before running along to the candy store, Sheryl not far behind, yelling out a quick ‘hello’ at the Shelbys as they passed them.
Watching them disappear into the shop at the other side of the street, you turned back to the Shelbys, who were all looking at you with different expressions.  
“You’ve got kids.” Polly was the first one to speak, eyes wide with surprise.
You could only smile, and nod your head in confirmation. “I do.”
“They look a bit old to be yours.” Arthur was confused, glancing over to the shop inside which they had just disappeared.  
“I took them in from the orphanage I worked at in Australia.” You told them, and Arthur nodded.
“So that’s where you ended up, ey?”
“Yeah, it was a journey to say the least.” You turned sad at that, thinking back to how rough the first period away from your home and the people you loved had been. Quickly, you shook away the sadness and forced yourself to smile, trying to look your happiest.
“You’re all looking good!” You hurriedly attempted to change the subject. “How have things been going for you?”
“We legitimated the business.” Tommy joined in on the conversation for the first time so far, taking a drag out of his cigarette. “Everything we do now is legal. No underground work, no Peaky Blinders. Just… strictly, political business.”
To say you were shocked at this was a big understatement. Almost as if out of instinct, your eyes shot up to the peaky caps on their heads, and only then did you realize the razor blades were nowhere to be seen. Could they really have given up on the gangster way of life?
You could barely believe your ears.
“I’m glad it’s been going well for you.” You answered, quickly covering up your shock, but as Tommy’s words registered in your mind, your eyes automatically shifted to John, only to find he had already been looking at you with an unreadable expression.
The others watched as the two of you entered a staring competition, completely disconnecting from everything else going on around them – including them.
Polly smiled smugly, inspecting your facial expressions for a moment before hooking her arm with Finn’s. “We’ll leave you to it, then.” She said. “It was nice seeing you again, (Y/N). Come by for tea someday, and bring the little ones.”
You nodded your head, answering. “I will, thank you.”
But not once did you tear your eyes away from John’s as you spoke the words, barely even noticing the others slipping off and down the street again, leaving you to yourselves.
A heavy silence was left over the two of you, only standing there staring into each other’s eyes, completely oblivious to the people shoving their way past you left and right.
The sides of his head were still clean-shaven underneath his cap, he still dressed in the same grey suit, only much fancier and more expensive-looking than the ones he used to wear before you left.
He had a scar running over the side of his jaw, without a doubt created by some kind of blade, and unlike keeping his face clean-shaven like he always had before, he now had a short, short ginger stubble.
He looked much older than he had when you left him, despite only four years having passed, but you guessed the consuming line of work they had been involved in did that to a person.
He still looked good, though. His blue eyes were still sparkling and framed by the long, thick, dark eyelashes you had always loved so much, and his lips were still pink and full. He looked as dashing as ever, standing in front of you a new man.
“You’ve changed.”
John was the first one to break the silence, officially breaking you out of your trance.
But still, you didn’t move your eyes away from his.
“Time changes people.” You stated simply, blinking slightly.
He gave you the smallest nod, sniffling. “Suppose that’s a good thing.”
“Not necessarily, but in my case, yes, I would say so.” You answered, nodding your head too. “I feel very fortunate to be where I am today.”
He said nothing else for a brief moment, only staring at you and suddenly growing very hesitant.
“Did you ever…” He began, trailing off. He breathed in through his nose, his eyelashes fluttering a few times. “Did you ever settle down again? With someone else?”
You had expected the question, probably before he had even thought of it, and wasn’t shocked when it came. 
A sad smile rose to your lips at that, and a small sigh left your nose as you shook your head. “No one could ever compare to you, John.” You admitted in a whisper, and at your words, his demeanor faltered entirely.
“I missed you.” He said, taking a small step closer to you. “I still miss you. I never stopped. I never moved on. I tried to, a couple of times, but I couldn’t.”
“John…” You started, feeling your heart picking up speed in your chest again as you watched him come closer and closer. But you didn’t move.
“No, I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He interrupted you, shaking his head. “Everyone told me I would forget you with time but here we are four years later and I still love you like I did back then. And you’re standing here, looking more beautiful than ever, and you moved on.”
“I don’t regret leaving you.” The words came out of your lips before you could stop yourself. “You have to know that.”
Guilt filled your entire body the moment you had said it, only increasing when witnessing his face fall into one of sadness. But it was true what you said. He did have to know it.
“I know. And I understand.” He, surprisingly, agreed. “I started understanding the second I heard you had left for good. I tried to find you, I wanted to come after you and give you what you wanted, but Ada refused to tell me where you were. She said I wasn’t good for you, that you deserved better.”
The guilt started gnawing at you from the inside once more, your eyebrows knotting together. “John-“
“And she was right.” He interrupted again.
You sighed, finally breaking eye-contact and adverting your eyes to the ground as he came to a stop right in front of you. 
“John… I don’t know where you’re trying to go with this, but after all this time apart, we would never work. We didn’t back then, and we wouldn’t now.”
“You’re wrong.” He protested almost at once. “I can see why you would think that. But you’re wrong.”
You carefully brought your eyes back up to meet his, biting down on the inside of your cheeks. “I’m happy you’ve all turned your lives around for the better, I really am.” You told him quietly. “And I wish you all the very best, because you deserve nothing less. But I’ve got my own people to look after now.”
“What about me?” He asked. “I know you still love me. I know you better than you know yourself, and if you didn’t love me, you would have walked away long ago.”
“You knew me. Knew.” You corrected him. “But you said it yourself, people change.”
“You have your kids to look after, but you are my people. I want and have to look after you like you look after them, your happiness is all that matters to me.”
You took his words into consideration for a moment, wrapping your arms around yourself and squeezing your eyes shut. But you just couldn’t. Up until this point, you had been under the impression that you had suffered so much because you couldn’t live without him.
But you realized now, as you stood in front of him once again, after four whole years apart, that it was the fact that he had chosen the life as a thug over you that had hurt you the most.
“It didn’t matter back when it should have mattered.” You whispered back finally, having to squeeze your eyes shut even harder in order to keep the tears building up at bay.
Your heart was screaming at you to just grab his face in your hands and kiss him, forgive him for everything and pick everything up where you left off, but after being his second choice once, you just couldn’t trust his words.
Letting out a shaky breath, you opened your eyes and blinked a few times, trying your best to rid of the stinging tears. You looked up at him and gave him one last look.
“It was nice seeing you again, John.” You whispered. “Give Ada my love the next time you see her, yeah?”
He looked down at you, and you swallowed when you realized he was done talking, turning around without another word and starting to head for the candy shop.
Your feet felt like they were made of concrete as you walked, and your heart felt just as heavy in your heart, if not even heavier. 
You didn’t know it was possible for an already broken heart to break again, but here you were, feeling the already shattered organ splitting into a thousand pieces once again.
“(Y/N).”
You stopped in your tracks at the sound of his voice calling out your name, your breathing turning slightly shallow and your eyes growing wide.
You knew you should have probably just kept walking, gotten the kids and gotten out of there. You knew the only thing you shouldn’t have done was turn around. 
But as he called after you, stopping you from leaving like he hadn’t the first time around, you couldn’t help yourself, your body moving all on its own and turning you back around to face him.
Your eyes met his in an instant, and wordlessly, you watched as he brought his hand up to his neck, reaching inside his collar and pulling out a chain. He grabbed the front of it and gave it a tug, successfully ripping it free from around his neck.
He looked down at the piece of jewelry, fiddling with it for a moment, before holding it up, and your eyes instantly widened at the sight.
“Is that-“ You began, breathless, having to cut yourself short in surprise.
John nodded his head, holding the small ring in between his fingers, slowly walking over to you as he spoke.
“It’s been four fookin’ years since I last saw you but I still love you like I did back then.” He told you, his eyes never leaving your face, and your eyes never leaving the familiar engagement ring.
He stopped in front of you, looking down at you with pleading eyes. “Come home, please.” He begged. “Give me another chance. Give us another chance.”
“John-“
“Mom.” A voice suddenly came from beside you, and both you and John whipped your heads around to find Henry and Sheryl standing off to the side, each of them clutching a bag of sweets in their hands.
Sheryl was giggling quietly to herself, and Henry was smiling at you, giving you once of those looks only Henry could give; the kind that made him look so much older than he really was.
“The appropriate response when the love of your life is proposing to you is to say yes.” He spoke, and you instantly widened your eyes at his words, even more so when Sheryl joined in, nodding her head.
“You should kiss, too.” She said. “It’s in the rulebook.”
You furrowed your eyebrows lightly. “Rulebook?” You mumbled quietly under your breath, thinking to yourself, but didn’t get much time to actually form an answer as John spoke up again.
“You should listen to your kids, (Y/N).” He instructed you, causing you to turn back to look at him. “They might not be yours by flesh and blood but they’ve got your brains.”
You stood frozen, not knowing what do nor say. Were you really ready to rely on John’s promises of making a better living for himself again? After all, you had only bumped into each other less than five minutes ago.
You guessed you could take their word for it, but in reality, you really had no idea what they were up to nowadays. A lot could change for the better over the course of four years, but a lot could have changed for the worse, too.
Having gotten lost in your thoughts and doubts, you had completely missed the way his hands had raised to your face, only coming back to reality when feeling the warm, rough skin of his palms brush against your cheeks. 
And when the connection between your skin was made, it was like all of your doubts just melted right off in one second.
You had missed John this entire time, more so than you would ever be able to put into words, but you hadn’t realized how much you had craved his skin against yours until it actually happened again.
Your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes fluttered shut, and as if your body was moving all on its own, you wordlessly tilted your head up to meet him halfway, your lips pressing together within the next second.
And from the moment they touched, you were clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow, like the other would just disappear into thin air if you let go, four years’ worth of missed feeling spilling into one single kiss.
Your hand came up to grab at the back of his neck, fingernails lightly scratching the scalp of his head while his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.
You didn’t break apart for almost a minute, lips moving together roughly and desperately. If you would have been able to, you would’ve never broken apart again, but you needed air, and soon had to do so, although very begrudgingly.
Your chests were heaving up and down violently against the other’s when you came apart, eyes opening and staring into each other’s. 
You stayed like that for a moment, forehead’s pressed together, until you turned around to look at Henry and Sheryl who were still standing to the side, now grinning like a pair of Cheshire cats.
You raised an eyebrow at the oldest at the two, taking a small step away from John. “Now, what does a thirteen-year-old know about love?” You asked, referring to his previous statement of encouragement.
At your question, his grin only widened. “You have a box labeled ‘John’ hidden at the back of your closet and you stare at it every time you open the wardrobe to pick out your clothes. I may only be thirteen but I’m not stupid.” He answered, and you could instantly feel your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as John chuckled beside you.
You didn’t get much time to dwell upon your adoptive son’s remark, however, as John grabbed a hold of your face once more, turning you back to look at him. 
“Will you come back?” He asked, looking down at you with pleading eyes.
And this time, no doubts clouded your mind, a lazy smile spreading over your lips. 
“Wouldn’t want to break the rules in the rulebook, now would we?” You questioned playfully and smiled widely as you watched him slide your wedding band back onto your finger.
He smiled, and you could just about make out the corners of his eyes starting to glisten before he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, hugging you into his chest and burying his face in your neck, smiling into your skin.
“I have a box labeled with your name, too.” He said, voice slightly muffled.
And just like that, you went back to being lovers and remained that way this time around.  
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fantastic-rambles · 4 years ago
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The Skylark’s Song [2/4]
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Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Characters: Hibari Kyoya, Kusakabe Tetsuya, Namimori Middle Disciplinary Committee, Fon (mentioned)
Warnings: PTSD, Mild Language, Violence [A/N: Depiction of PTSD may not be accurate. I apologize if this bothers anyone.]
Word Count: 1.7k
Summary: My personal headcanons of the (pre-canon) experiences that made Hibari into the man that he is today. Part Two: the development of his commitment to discipline and explaining his apparent state of constant sleep deprivation. [This may end up being a four-part story, lol. Or a three-part with a small extra... which I guess is also four parts. I hope you enjoy! xD]
[Part 1]
Ever since that night, Hibari had never had a good night's rest.
Other than the week that he'd been in the hospital, woozy from the painkillers that had been constantly fed to him and barely aware of the world around him, he'd never slept for more than a few hours at any given time. At first, the nightmares--the memories--would wake him up in an empty house, screaming for his parents who were no longer there, and then he'd spend the rest of the night huddled in the corner, flinching at every shadow. For a long time, he feared that the men would return, but as time passed uneventfully, he grew more convinced that they didn't care. That they didn't think a mere child could be any danger to them. And they were probably right.
By all rights, he should have probably been taken away and moved to an orphanage, but a distant relative had been found who was willing to become his legal guardian. They'd spoken briefly on the phone, eventually coming to an agreement: since Hibari refused to leave his childhood home and Fon had special circumstances that made traveling and raising a child difficult, a housekeeper would be hired to watch over him, paid out of the fortune that he had inherited from his parents. Initially, she would come early in the morning every day and leave only when he was about to go to bed, but his growing preference for solitude and independence quickly asserted itself, so that she would eventually only come in the afternoon when he was at school, to clean and prepare his meals.
In school, his teachers also noticed a drastic change in his personality. Though he remained a good student, the previously outgoing and energetic child became withdrawn, appearing as though he was actively avoiding his classmates. Any attempts to speak with him outside of his assigned schoolwork were met with a stony wall of silence, and the many phone conversations that they had with his guardian did nothing to improve the situation.
In fact, the only activity in which Hibari demonstrated any initiative of his own was in his new studies of martial arts. Every evening found him at one dojo or another, practicing karate, boxing, kenjutsu, and a number of other combat arts with single-minded focus until he could barely drag himself back home. The physical pain was a welcome distraction, though it was short-lived as his body accustomed itself to the new routine.
His devotion to the arts and strict self-discipline meant that he quickly learned all that the instructors in Namimori could teach him. By the time he started middle school, he was no longer attending the dojos, instead practicing with masters that Fon would occasionally send to him while developing his own style. Hibari also began experimenting with weapons, discarding the sword and spear as impractical to carry and bare fists as too weak, before he eventually settled on his tonfa. The metal was hard enough to be difficult to deform, they were easily concealed, and simply adjusting the force could mean the difference between injury and death.
He still saw his parents every night. But at least he stopped screaming when he woke.
For the most part, his middle school years passed without anything of particular note until his third year, when he joined the disciplinary committee and a group of wannabe punks started to attend. In general, they were harmless, just mimicking the types of idiots that they saw in anime and manga and mouthing off out of the mistaken impression that it made them cool. But it irked Hibari to have to tell them off every morning for their appearances and watch them swagger around like thugs. When they finally started trying to extort their peers, however, he finally had a real excuse to step in.
"Hey, c'mon, you've got cash, right? We just need to borrow a couple thousand. We'll pay you back later, really!"
Hibari had been about to return home when he heard voices coming from behind the gym. If there was a response to Kusakabe, it was too quiet for him to hear, but he hoisted his bookbag higher over his shoulders as he went to investigate. As he turned the corner, the sight before him turned him cold with rage.
Kusakabe and his friends stood in a loose half-circle, a few of them holding wooden swords, leering at the student they had trapped against the wall, a young boy who looked absolutely terrified. His bookbag appeared to have been upended all over the ground, with books and pens scattered everywhere, and Kusakabe knelt before him, his hand outstretched expectantly. One of his friends stretched, cricking his neck threateningly, and noticed the prefect standing there, shaking. He smirked, reaching out to nudge their leader and jerking a thumb toward Hibari when Kusakabe looked up.
"Get rid of him," Kusakabe ordered, and three of his pack peeled away, advancing on Hibari and blocking his view.
"There's nothing to see here, Prefect-san. Get lost, unless you want what he's getting," one of them snapped, and Hibari's eyes fell to the ground as his hands clenched into trembling fists.
"Hey, look at him. You think he's gonna piss himself?" Another one laughed, jabbing his bokken toward Hibari, who took a step back, to more laughter. But in the next instant, Hibari was lunging forward, the gleam of metal in his hands knocking the wood aside and slamming the boy under the chin. Before the other two realized what was happening, they were splayed on the ground, clutching their heads as Hibari stood in front of them, breathing heavily. He staggered slightly, as if he were injured or drunk, as the rest of the gang advanced on him, Kusakabe in the lead, their victim forgotten. They were cautious now, now that they saw he could fight back, and when Hibari's head snapped up, even Kusakube seemed to hesitate. There was a gleam of madness and bloodlust in Hibari's normally flat black eyes, and his stance as he lifted his tonfa in front of his body telegraphed experience.
Even so, they couldn't back down, not from a fight that they had picked, so they approached the older boy carefully, trying to spread out to encircle him. He didn't make any move to stop them from doing so, just standing with an air of watchful patience, like a predator waiting to pounce. The fact that he was outnumbered didn't seem to bother him at all, and he kept his eyes fixed on Kusakabe. His unwavering gaze seemed to make the younger boy hesitate, but at the same time, foolish pride urged the delinquent forward.
"Get him."
After a heartbeat of uncertainty, they rushed in wildly, fists swinging and getting in each other's way more often than not. And in the midst of all of them, Hibari's weapons flashed like quicksilver, falling with precise blows upon heads and joints until he was the only one who remained standing among the carnage, like some ancient god of war. The few boys who weren't unconscious were groaning, clutching where they had been struck, and their victim had run away, leaving behind only a few pencils and a snapped ruler.
Languidly, Hibari walked over to the leader, nudging Kusakabe under the chin with his foot to make sure he had the boy's attention.
"Try this again, and I'll break your bones. A third time, and I'll bite you to death. Do you understand?"
It wasn't a threat, but a simple statement of fact, delivered in a flat tone that left no room for discussion. He waited for Kusakabe to nod, then turned around and walked away, stepping over the bodies that littered the ground.
From his experiences with hot-blooded people, Hibari didn't expect things to just end there, but nothing could have surprised him more when he arrived at school the next day. The moment he stepped inside the gates, he was greeted by a shout of "Good morning, boss!" and he turned to see Kusakabe and his hoodlums bowing to him.
"What's this?"
Hibari watched warily as Kusakabe approached him, smiling while sporting a black eye.
"Hibari-san, you're strong, and you've earned our respect. Please feel free to use us however you want," Kusakabe addressed him formally, bowing again. Some of the other students were staring at them, wide-eyed, and Hibari shoved the punk away with one hand.
"I'm not strong. You're just weak," he snapped. "That's why you just crowd together with the others. It makes me sick."
But his words didn't seem to upset the other boy, who deferentially took a step back to give Hibari the personal space that he clearly wanted. However, for the rest of the day, they hung in small groups at the corners of Hibari's vision whenever he wasn't in his classroom, following him around like a pack of devoted dogs. It was irritating, and when they began to follow him home after school, he snapped again, beating them all thoroughly, even though they didn't even try to fight back.
Gradually, though, Hibari noticed that their one-sided admiration seemed to be imposing better order on his beloved school. Small incidents were quickly straightened out without his interference, and for the most part, the gang stayed out of his way. So he tolerated their existences so long as they avoided grouping up in front of him, using them as yet another tool to protect the discipline at Namimori Middle School and in town as a whole. He never dealt with any of them directly except for Kusakabe, on the rare occasions that he had to give them orders; even so, he kept a close eye on them to ensure that they didn't overstep their bounds. 
His parents had loved the town, and so did he. Even though they had been betrayed, it was only because the authorities had all been weak: afraid of violence, dazzled by money, grasping for power, or any number of other reasons. Although Hibari intended to control them himself through the same methods, he had no intention of unleashing another pack of animals that would cause even more problems for others.
And on the day that he finally finished his compulsory education, he set out to settle the score.
[Part 3]
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winterrose42 · 5 years ago
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Tagged by: @brittleconscience Thanks for tagging me! I never really get sent these things so it threw me off a bit, but it looks fun so let's do it!
Nickname: nobody but my extended family has ever tried giving me a nickname. My real name is not something I feel needs to be shortened especially since the only reason they do it is because they think my reall name is ridiculous, so I refuse nicknames on all accounts. I use WinterRose as my online name though so I guess that could be it?
Real Name: segways are weird, anyway. My real life name is Pandora.
Zodiac: before this I didnt know there was a difference in astral signs (sun, moon, rising, ect) so it was interesting to look up. I'm still not sure I understand it but I dug a bit and my sun sign is Virgo while my moon sign is Pisces.
Currently Reading: Paperback-If There be Thorns by V.C. Andrews. AO3 Wips-so many but the main ones right now are The Voice by andrhars, Innerworks by Prplzorua and 'til Death Do Us Part (and that moment cant come soon enough) by princessoftheives (@hylianfury on tumblr). Completed works: What Makes a Hero by Selphie Kinneas 175 on fanfiction.net and The Glass Gemstone by HJ_Fotemr on AO3. ...I read so much fanfiction.
Fave Music and Groups: So. Much. Music. How do I pick? Muse, Queens of the Stone Age, anything Mark Lanegan and anything Thomas Sanders creates is a staple. Um...other than that I'm not really picky with music, I pretty much listen to anything, but when my anxiety's bad I like music with a lot of instrumental layers because I can pick apart all the different pieces to shut my brain up a little. I also really love musicals so theres those too. Currently I'm obsessed with Elizaveta's Dreamer (those high notes, ooooh) and I Do Adore by Mindy Gledhill because it's cute and happy.
Sports: I dont really watch sports but in school I loved playing them in gym! My favorite was street hockey and kickball.
Other Blogs: I post art and my current WIP on my side blog @paper-and-whiskers
Get Asks?- I dont get them often on either blog, but as long as they arent inappropriate I always answer them and they're always welcome!
Blogs I Follow: 860
Tumblr crush: *insert that's a trap gif here*
Lucky Number: 7 and 9
What Am I Wearing- ...what the hell but also meh what the hell. At the moment boxers, a Breath of the Wild tshirt, a hand-modified space and skull jacket and iridescent skeleton hand burretts. Clearly the epitome of fashion.
Dream Vacation: It would depend on if I was going with someone or not. If I was with someone anywhere we could hang out in peace and not have to worry about anything would be nice. By myself honestly either holed up in my house with no future social engagements or being allowed to hike through some woods to explore would be amazing.
Dream car: anything that works, preferably with low mileage. (I think that's a good thing with cars, not really sure). Honestly though, I wouldnt do it, but I've always had a vision of getting a huge hillbilly truck bc the image of me, a five foot one inch obvious nerd hopping down from some monster of a road roller is hilarious to me.
Fave food: CAKE!!! Any desert really, but cake all the way. My favorite comfort food however is instant mashed potatoes with butter or seasoned butter noodles.
Drink of Choice: Forever the sleep deprived insomniac I live for anything caffeine, but usually I only drink water and apple juice when it's in the house. These three, they are the liquid of the gods.
Instrument: I've been picking up and putting down guitar for years now, I dont quite have the finger coordination yet and I'm not good at self teaching so i still suck. I can sing though and love doing so. I used to play a bit of piano but I was self taught with that too and havent touched one for years so I probably forgot everything.
Language: English. I'm trying to learn ASL and I took a year of Spanish in high school but heck if I remember anything.
Celeb crush: Daniel Radcliff and Elijah Wood have been my crushes since I was little XD Awkwafina is a recent one.
Random Fact: I'm allergic to any and all metal. My skin will eat through rings and rust necklace chains. I didnt realize this until I worked at an industrial chem plant where industrial grade metal mixtures were used for plating and my hands and arms broke out in an itchy rash that would occasionally burst open and bleed. Since working there the allergy only got worse and now all my jewelry has to be replaced with string because otherwise it doesn't last.
I'm not really sure about tagging people so I'm only doing it with people I notice interact with my blog the most, with a couple exceptions. Sorry in advance if I bother you!
Only if you want!: @animatedtrash4 @edgykoalagod @young-and-depressed-me @grievous-doodles @jtem @dontforgetoctober3rd @lunapics @hylianfury @chained-to-the-mirror
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writteninsunshine · 5 years ago
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Step Into The Dark - Adam-Centric - NSFW
Title: Step Into The Dark Author: Donnie Fandom: Saw/Insidious Setting: The Bathroom Pairing: None Characters: Adam Faulkner, Lawrence Gordon, Zep Hindle, John Kramer, Specs (Insidious), Tucker (Insidious), David (Saw .5), OC: Matthew Faulkner, OC: Lukas Radford-Faulkner Genre: Angst/Horror Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2006 Type of Work: One-Shot Status: Complete Warnings: Canon Character Death, Hallucinations, Sensory Deprivation, Adam Dying, AU - Canon Divergent, Adam just starves to death here, Vent Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except Matt and Lukas. Summary: Adam would have accepted anything to dull the pain, even death. AN: Lol just have to say this before I get into the meat of it, I checked, and 2006 was the original word count for this. 2006 was the release year for Saw III. I just thought that was funny. xD So… On to the real thing here. I’ve been doing not very good and really needed to torture Adam, I guess. I don’t usually write his death, or him being dead or whatever, but I guess I needed to vent pretty badly. I hope you guys enjoy! Edited by my friend, Griff, because I couldn’t do it myself.
Bye Bye Man/Insidious/Saw Fic Masterlist Step Into The Dark ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ While Adam was used to the clawing beast in his stomach, this was a new low for him. Dying in the dark, waiting for something that wasn’t coming. Lawrence had lied to him, and all he could hear was I wouldn’t lie to you. over and over again in his head. An endless loop, sometimes in slow-motion as if he could pull every syllable from Lawrence’s filthy, lying lips if he tried hard enough, and it was growing so old. The last thing he remembered seeing were those grotesquely bright blue eyes. They had been so handsome before the blood loss; it had made the incandescent fire in them scorch him, before leaving him to rot.
It took too much effort to be angry anymore. It took too much effort to even open his eyes, and he’d given up on trying to move his right shoulder at all. There was no escape this time, no way to duck under the responsibility and run. His own cowardice had landed him in the one place he couldn’t seem to leave. Even the acrid scent of his dead cellmate and the stench of shit didn’t register anymore. He had heard of the term ‘nose-blind’, but this was probably to a rather crazy degree. Old-Lady-With-Twenty-Cats crazy. Sunlight was a vague memory, something he couldn’t quite grasp anymore, and he yearned for one more sunrise. In his restless dreams he saw his family, his father’s crooked grin - passed to all of his sons, Lukas’ inability to stick to one person, David’s sardonic attitude, Specs’ nerd culture. They welcomed him back, Matt constantly babying him, much to his siblings’ chagrin, and even Lukas was being kind. That was probably the biggest tell that it was a desperate fantasy. Another bout of stomach acid shredded his throat as it leaked out of his mouth, and he didn’t have it in him to even move. Barfing on his shirt was something that, last month, would have been alcohol-induced. Here, he was so used to tasting acid and feeling sick that he couldn’t imagine ever drinking booze again. With his head pounding and his eyes, adjusted to the dark enough to see the vague shapes of the fixtures, pulsing, he closed them carefully, watching the spinning dots behind his eyes like an in-flight movie. When had his life become so bad that he wished for his shithole apartment, that he missed the days that he couldn’t eat because he didn’t have the money? Having the option sounded like it would be better than this. How long had he been down here? It could have been three hours or three days. That time was spent either pleading with God or hating him because that had always worked for other people. It wasn’t like he had access to anything else, either. The tap didn’t run, not anymore. Even the ticking of the clock had stopped at some point, leaving him in the dark in deafening silence. It figured that he wouldn’t be allowed to count the seconds by to try haphazardly to keep time. Worse than that, though, was when he could hear things. Little scampering feet in the darkness. They had to belong to rats, mice, things of that ilk, and if Adam knew these New York sewer lines, he’d be feeding mammoth rats before the day was out. It did enough to terrify him into stiffening until his shoulder quaked, but nothing ever ventured close enough to touch him. Maybe in his sleep, emboldened by his steady breathing, but never when he heard them when he was awake. Beady eyes in the darkness watched him, mocked him with their ability to come and go as they pleased. Rustling the chain did well enough to scare them off, and it was usually both a gift and a curse when he finally decided to move his leg. Restriction made comfort a far cry in any position, but even less so now that it felt like his ass had been melded with the broken tile beneath himself. Sometimes, he humored himself; which of them was really worse off, after all? At least Adam had both of his feet, the evidence was on the other side of the room. It was a poor claim to happiness when seconds later his traitorous brain replied with, But he has his freedom. That was, if Lawrence had managed to crawl to safety. For all Adam knew, Zep wasn’t the only corpse he shared a catacomb with. Anything beyond the bathroom was a mystery, and he’d go so far as to say that anything in the bathroom out of reach was a best guess, at this point. It was almost impossible to even tell which of Zep’s feet he had had to kick away from himself at first. Once the door was closed and he was, rather suddenly, left with the inability to take anything for granted, he took everything in his general vicinity for some semblance of safety. For a while, he had thought it was a better use of his time to try and find the key, to lay in the bathtub instead of on the floor. The less strength he had in his arms and legs to lift himself, however, meant he had wanted to get up and down less. Eventually, he parked back against the floor, and he wasn’t sure he’d moved much in the last millennia. He was a fixture of this bathroom, like the tub, the clock, Zep’s lifeless corpse. Sometimes he wondered if he’d been dead this whole time, if he wasn’t already gone and his soul hadn’t left, hadn’t been given the chance or the option to leave. Was this Hell? The question had crossed his mind on a few occasions, but he never truly entertained it. If nothing else, leaving the thought open-ended meant that there was a chance that this mind-numbing loneliness would leave, that the impending doom he felt looming all around him could end. Even if he didn’t live, which was looking like the only option, death would be a welcome reprieve. What had he ever done to deserve this? He supposed starving to death in a shithole you could leave wasn’t much better than starving to death in one you couldn’t, but at least he’d been able to try and change his situation before. That was his mistake, he mused absently, giving a breathless, mirthless chuckle. His only sin had been living, trying to survive. Had he gone back to his dad’s two-bit trailer and scraped up his pride off the floor for dinner instead, maybe this wouldn’t have happened to him. Hell, Lukas was better off than he was, and the man was a walking medicine cabinet if you were paying high enough. Why wasn’t Lukas tested? Or, maybe he had been. That Jigsaw guy was intent on cleaning up the under crust, and Lukas was as slimy as they came. Unbeknownst to him, David had been a player in his own game, just the same as he was, except for the thorny issue of him being the triplet that lived. David’s survival was the only thing holding Matt together, who pleaded and threatened God in equal measure to have his son returned to him. Much like an unimpressed Customer Service employee, God had deigned to do nothing but let him rant, so far. It almost hurt more that his dad might be holding out hope that he’d come out of this, but he would say it was a close second. This hurt like Hell. Whatever his stomach was saying, he’d almost forgotten the translation. Pain, sure, it hurt, but it always hurt. No matter how much writhing and pitching it did, it melted in with everything else that wore on him. Sleep was nonexistent for him, but there was occasionally a lull in the constant pounding of his head. Were his eyes ever even open, anymore? He could make out vague shapes but it didn’t really seem much different from when he closed his eyes again. A sudden rush of light plagued his tired eyes, and he blinked awake, lower jaw quivering slightly. “Adam, come on.” Lukas cried, and the eye roll could be heard in his voice as he slammed his elbow into the table, “Dad says we can’t eat if you don’t get your ass in gear, he’s gonna starve all of us because of you, lazy assh--” “Shut it, Lukas, don’t you have a ballet thing to be at for daughter number twelve?” Matt’s voice cut in, playful and sharp as a tack, and Adam felt a smile working onto his face. It turned to a full-on grin when his father could be heard smacking Lukas’ shoulder, “You watch your mouth. I’m your father.” “Pretty sure Adam’s the only one that matters to you. Davey and I’ll just have to go hungry.” “David’s a good kid, he can have as much KFC as he wants, too.” “KFC?” Adam heard himself before he could register that he’d spoken. His voice didn’t sound broken, it didn’t sound fractured or even quiet, it was just how it used to be. “The grilled shit?” “Yeah!” Lukas piped up again, peeking around the wall a little to give Adam a disapproving frown, “With mashed potatoes, macaroni, coleslaw, and biscuits. Get in here or I’m going to eat everything but the fucking slaw.” “You will not.” Matt snapped, before his voice turned soft and coaxing, “Adam, come on, baby boy. Got all your favorites.” “You did not,” Adam found himself giggling, elated at the idea that anyone would actually like coleslaw, “You got coleslaw, and not extra Mac.” “I know, kiddo, that’s the thing I got me that I know you brats won’t eat. Except maybe Tucker.” “Tucker eats coleslaw.” Specs supplied, already dishing out his plate of mashed potatoes, gravy and a single drumstick. “But he eats almost anything.” The mammoth of a man sat with his family around the coffee table in the dingy trailer he grew up in, on the floor because all of the chairs were too tall for him to still reach the table. Everyone was staring, expectant, as Adam shuffled in place in the hallway that lead to the bedrooms, biting his lip and feeling out of place. Was this even his family anymore? “Adam,” Matt’s tone took on a sugary sweet tone that had him wary, knowing he had probably done something wrong, “Come on, come eat. I know you’ve been struggling. You’re not in trouble, I’m your dad, I can do stuff like this for you guys now and again, even if you’re grown. Especially because you’re grown.” Acceptance seemed to wash over him in waves. Each step he took onto the thin carpet didn’t feel like anything, but he was moving forward, taking a spot between David and Specs on the couch. David offered a one-armed half-hug, and Specs barely tilted his head before demolishing his drumstick. Lukas shot him an expectant look but dug into the breast he’d pilfered from the bucket, eating enough that when Matt noticed, he didn’t do anything more than glare. “You know that’s--” “Adam’s, I know, I get it. We all know he’s your favorite.” Lukas groaned, “It’s weird to pick a favorite identical triplet but whatever.” “I don’t play fav--” “Dad,” Specs paused in his eating to look up, “You do, and it’s okay.” There was something in Adam’s hands. It didn’t feel like the greasy, delicious grilled chicken wing he’d picked up, it was soft, firm and bony. Cold, maybe, or just cool. It didn’t seem quite right, but he couldn’t exactly see anything wrong with it. Warmth blanketed his face as he took a bite, and something seemed to give. With a final sigh, everything melted away into nothingness, and he finally felt at peace. Matt never would get to see his son again without looking into the faces of the remaining triplets. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: I forget why I started this, but this happened even more because of some shit happening in my life right now and I’m just…. Trying to keep going. This sort of helped but I’m also more anxious, now.
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shadowofthemoth · 6 years ago
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Hello again~! Just out of curiosity, for the ship ask meme, can I say Khadgar and Alieri? ^^ (if not, fresme could be a second choice. ;) )
Hellooooo! Of course you can! ^^ 
Sorry it took so long, I didn’t mean it to, but I’ve been too buzy… Well, here goes!
Khadgar/Alieri:
1.    Who hogs the duvet:
Khadgar.  And he looks so adorable in his sleep when hedoes it that Alieri doesn’t have the heart to object… but she still needswarmth, right? And at some point she just ends up getting her own duvet whichshe keeps under the pillows or somewhere at hand and takes out when Khadgar hasalready cocooned himself into their main one.
2.    Who texts/rings to check how their day is going:
Bothdo it very rarely. Khadgar, because he doesn’t want to overdo it and makeAlieri feel like he’s controlling her; Alieri, because she hasn’t yet gottenused to actually having the right to do it – and she probably never will.Besides, it’s freaking Khadgar, he is the Chuck Norris of the World of Warcraft,there’s literally nothing he cannot cope with.
3.    Who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts:
Alieri.She is the creative one. Khadgar does his best, but he is more likely to choosesomething useful and practical as a gift. He has good taste though, and itcompensates for him being less inventive than his partner is.
4.    Who gets up first in the morning:
Khadgarand his ancient habit to wake up at dawn. He is not an early bird though; it’sjust that he is used to waking up and getting ready to whatever it is that heneeds to get ready for at literally any given time. Years spent at war willteach anyone that. But years at war also mean sleep deprivation; so he can fallasleep in a matter of moments and stay asleep in any conditions, be it in abed, on horseback, ahem, at a boring meeting in Dalaran, ahem, or whenever elsehe has the opportunity to do so.
Alieriis a bit different in this regard: she can go very long without sleep (perks ofbeing a dragon), but when she has the chance to relax – don’t you try to gether out of bed before midday. Khadgar did once, he knows what I’m talkingabout. And he can prove that the wrath of a dragon woken at an ungodly hour ismore horrible than that of the Burning Legion (even in the hour is perfectlyacceptable to 99% of people around you).
5.    Who suggests new things in bed:
Bothdo, but Alieri is sort of reserved and almost shy about this aspect of life,whereas Khadgar is much bolder. He understands and respects her timidity, butagain, years at war mean that you try to get everything you can from life whileyou still can – and that is a lesson he has learned well. So yep, he doesn’thesitate to experiment in bed (and out of it) because why the hell not enjoythemselves if they can?!
6.    Who cries at movies:
Thereare no movies in Azeroth, and I haven’t thought about a modern AU for thiscouple, but… I guess these two don’t cry at movies, they are more likely toinsert sarcastic comments for the whole audience to hear. xD
7.    Who gives unprompted massages:
Khadgar.He uses his hands well (and I’m talking not only about massage now, yeah) andenjoys caring for Alieri, and massage is a perfect way to help her relax and toshow her all his love and tenderness. Alieri herself doesn’t really like givingmassages, mainly because she fears to misjudge her strength and hurt Khadgar(do I need to remind you she is a dragon?)… and also because she isspectacularly bad at them. xD
8.    Who fusses over the other when they’re sick:
Khadgaris the fussy one: let Alieri sneeze once, and he is already running around withhot herbal tea, warm duvets and an (adorably) panicked expression. On thecontrary, when he gets sick, Alieri is calm and collected all the time. No fusswhatsoever. If she panics, then it means Khadgar is as good as dead (and thatshe probably knows whom to ask for help anyway).
9.    Who gets jealous easiest:
Alieri.Because come on, look at that hot man and tell me: how many people would liketo get him laid?.. Yep. Now add his position as Archmage and tell me: how manywomen would like to get themselves such a husband? Exactly. Khadgar isblissfully ignorant of all that (or at least pretends to be), but you see,Alieri has many reasons to get jealous quite often.
10.          Who has the most embarrassing taste in music:
Uuuuhhhh…They both have some embarrassing secrets to tell in this regard, I think, butthis question requires more of a modern AU, so I’m not sure about the detailsyet.
11.          Who collects something unusual:
Alieri.She is a dragon, after all, and hoarding stuff might be an innate need, so tosay. But she is also a mage, so this need is combined with her scientificinterests: she collects magical artifacts of all sorts and studies them.
12.          Who takes the longest to get ready:
Theyboth don’t need much time to get ready, because when they have to get ready, itis usually for battle or journey, not a nice evening at a restaurant. But whenit IS a nice evening at a restaurant (more like a pub though), it is Alieri whofusses over her clothes and hairstyle a bit longer than time limits mightallow.
13.          Who is the most tidy and organized:
Alieri.No ifs and buts, it is her. Even though Khadgar might disagree and grumblesomething under his breath. Something about long red hair on the floor, whichis definitely not his (at this point he may demonstratively ruffle his –short-cropped, silvery white – chevelure).
14.          Who gets most excited about the holidays:
Khadgar:Holidays? What holidays? What does this word even mean? Have res and relax? Howdoes one do that?
AlsoKhadgar: *excitedly packs stuff and plans a trip to the City of Shattrath and avisit to Draenor*
Alieri:*rolls her eyes fondly and proceeds to help with the packing*
15.          Who is the big spoon/little spoon:
Theytake turns. xD
16.          Who gets most competitive when playing games and/orsports:
Oh,Alieri is very competitive. In a modern AU, I imagine, she’d be on some sportsteam. In the reality of WoW, this competitiveness is probably a good help inbattle.  Khadgar is not competitive atall – he might have been at some point, but now he has long gotten over it.
17.          Who starts the most arguments:
Theyrarely have arguments in the first place; but when they do, I guess it’s a50/50 situation.
18.          Who suggests that they buy a pet:
“Let’sget a pet!”
“Youcan turn into a raven, and I am literally a dragon, Khadgar, do you really wantto add a proper animal to this madhouse?”
(later)
“Let’sget a pet!”
“Khadgar,this is a crocolisk.”
“Hey,don’t discriminate crocolisks!”
(later)
“Ican’t believe you have gone and bought another chimera home.”
“Alieri,please, we are in Warcraft, having a hundred pets and several dozen of mountsis a must here!”
“…I’llsee myself out.”
19.          What couple traditions they have:
Do goodluck kisses before battle count as a couple tradition? Also, Khadgar makes it apoint to bring those blue Draenor flowers to Alieri every so often (which isnot too often because the world of Draenor is not always accessible).
20.          What tv shows they watch together:
Noideeeeaaaa, but it would probably be some standup shows of such comedians asEddie Izard etc. Maybe BBC mini-series like Pride and Prejudice, too.
21.          What other couple they hang out with:
Notsure about other couples per se, but when Kraid gets himself a girl, they’ll beinvited to a double date for sure! ^^ Also, their closest friends are Kalecgos(who is a dragon and a mage as well), a Draenei Death Knight Jenerlen (my OC)and a Night Elf Druid Ilmarikki (my OC as well). Jenerlen and Ilmarikki areboth female and I’m not into femslash, but I’ve been pondering on this shiplately.  
22.          How they spend time together as a couple:
Theytalk, they laugh, they make love, they try to get some rest from all the eventsand responsibilities the war throws at them. A predictable answer, yet I canthink of nothing else. They also work together a lot, so I guess it counts asspending time as a couple anyway.
23.          Who made the first move:
Khadgar.
24.          Who brings flowers home:
Himagain. Rarely, but he does his best. Alieri brings magical artifacts. xD
25.          Who is the best cook:
Khadgaragain! Alieri just seems to be really unsuccessful in this area. Potions? Yes.Herbs, artifacts, ancient scrolls and volumes – can do! Cooking edible food?She’d rather die. Or alternatively die of eating the food she had cooked.
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itslulu42 · 7 years ago
Text
Curses
Part Fourteen of Ninja Dorks Flailing at Interpersonal Relations
or alternative title Mistakes are still made  XD
Underneath the Cut!
One | Previous
The village of Iwanai was situated in the mountains, the homes made in caves that were dotted along the surface cliffs.  The village center was located on a plateau in the mountain range. The one person who knew anything about medical treatment was a retired min from Iwa whose knowledge had been out of date before Sakura had been born.  Fortunately, Seiji was a clever man and was open to Sakura’s instruction.  Sakura discovered Seiji didn’t have the resources to keep up with medical discoveries; Iwanai remote location meant was cut off from trade.  Sakura vowed to find some medical tomes and send them to Seiji.  
Sakura and Sasuke slept in a small cave that Sakura had created with her own fist.  After eight weeks of eating plain rice, Sakura was sick of it.
"Sasuke, I don’t think we need to be here any longer.  Seiji is a fast learner and he’s reached a point where he just needs some more resources.  He doesn’t have enough chakra control for the really difficult procedures that I could teach him." She gave a poke at her bowl of rice, imagining a piece of grilled fish on the top of it.
Sasuke chuckled as he placed his empty bowl down.  "We can go tomorrow if you would like.  I thought you would enjoy the view here; I’m surprised you are so eager to leave."
Sakura looked out to the cave entrance to the clouds floating by.   "I enjoyed it for a little bit," she admitted, recalling the first moment when she climbed the mountain peak.  She walked to the edge of the cave, to the home she had made for the two of them.  The sun was setting, filling the mountain range with rich gold hues.  She continued to watch as the sun disappeared until the only light left was the flickers of fire from homes in the mountain range.
Sakura reached into her thigh pouch and pulled out her flashlight.  Sasuke hadn't joined her, and their own cave was dark and cold. She swept the light across the cave to see Sasuke had tucked himself in between two large boulders, his face hidden by the jutting rock.  The steady rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was asleep.  Sakura leaned back against the wall of the cave and brought her knees to her chest.
Again.
Sakura wasn't certain what she was expected when she left with Sasuke but it wasn't this.  Sasuke seemed as he was making a real effort, he had smiled, had kissed her.
It wasn't as if he wasn't trying.
What had been romantic as an adolescent was now the same thing that was leaving her in despair. He was moody and rarely spoke more than five words at a time.  Sakura felt like it was a constant struggle to find some sort of connection with him. Even now he had shut himself off from the conversation, closing his eyes to sleep rather than joining her to watch the sunset, choosing the company of a pair of rocks rather than her own.  He was closer than had ever been before, close enough to touch.  And yet, Sasuke still felt very far away.  
Ashamed by her thoughts, Sakura began to unroll her sleeping bag her fingers running over the cave floor. There was a specific spot where she had crushed the rocks just the right degree so it was almost comfortable.  She wiggled in her bag, gave one last look in Sasuke's direction and then turned off the light.
“You’re pathetic.”
Kakashi looked up from his paperwork to see Tsunade at his doorway, the one person that was allowed to intrude in his office time without announcement.  Also one of the few that could get away with such a thing to him.
“I’m sorry?”
“You heard me, Hatake.” Tsunade shut the door behind her. “Moping?  At your age?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Kakashi replied as his stomach did a flip.  He must be getting indigestion.
Tsunade snorted.  “I have reports from the hospital that three Anbu agents have collapsed from sleep deprivation during guard duty because of your absurdly long office hours.”
Kakashi rubbed his chin in thought.  “Perhaps I should review the training that Anbu agents since they seem to be growing soft.”
“That’s not the issue and you know it.”  Tsunade leaned over his desk, placing her hand on the countertop and leaning forward. Kakashi began to sweat as he struggled to keep his eyes above her neckline, aware that she was testing him. “Did you give away your heart so easily?”
The question hit him like a punch in the gut, making him wish he had ogled her chest.  She would have punched him unconscious and he would be left with the terrible ache.  “My heart?” He repeated dumbly.  He swallowed.
“As much as I enjoy teasing you, Kakashi I’m growing concerned.   Sakura’s gone.  She has her eyes set on Uchiha for years and he finally returned her affections.” Tsunade sat in the seat across from him, her voice firm.  “You need to move on.”
Kakashi sank his head in his hands.  “I didn’t want a relationship with her.”  His whole body burned and he found it difficult to breathe.  “She puts her whole self in everything she does until she’s drained dry.  I want her back in the village, even if it’s not with me.  I would be so lucky to have her in my life.”  He tilted his head back to lean against the chair.  “Fuck.”
A clink of porcelain hitting the desk drew Kakashi’s attention and he recognized the brand of Tsunade’s favorite sake.  Kakashi swept his arm across his desk, scattering the paperwork on the floor.   She poured him a cup to drink and slid it across the desk.  
“I spent years training Sakura so she could heal an army.  Now she’s with the one person who doesn’t want to be healed.”   Tsunade tossed the drink back.  “What a waste.”
‘No,’ thought Kakashi, as he remembered how Sakura poured her energy into Naruto to keep him alive. He remembered the satisfied smile on her face as the earth quaked under her fist.  He remembered how she reached for him as she slept until she was tucked into his side.  
Following Tsunade’s example, he let the sake burn down his throat.
A hawk arrived first thing in the morning, waking Sakura from her bedroll with its squawking.   It flew directly to Sasuke, remaining still as he took the note from its leg.
"What does it say?"  Sakura rubbed the back of her head to feel her scalp.  She was overdue for a shower and her hair felt greasy.  Sasuke was impassive as he passed over the note after he read it.
Sakura's gasped when she read the contents of the scroll.  "Naruto's marrying Hinata? Wow!  I didn't know they had gotten so serious."  She pressed her hand to her mouth to hold back her squeal. "Oh!  I bet the Hyugaa clan is going to go all out for this too.  I wouldn't surprise if the whole entire village is invited; it’s going to be massive."
Sakura could imagine it easily, the trees in full bloom while Hinata and Naruto posed for photos. "I don’t think I would like a wedding that big.  The most important thing for me would be to marrying the one I love."  
Sakura started, remembering her audience was Sasuke and not Ino or Shizune.  She hurried to change the subject.  "I should probably write a letter to congratulate them before we leave so you can send it with the hawk.  What time are we leaving?"
Sasuke stared her, his face impassive.  Sakura squirmed; worried that she had once more misspoke in his presence.  One day she would able to talk freely without worrying about her words.  She tried so hard to change, to show she was no longer the same girl she was at age twelve. There were moments when he was looking at her, judging her, that made her feel that he would never see her growth.
"What time do you think we are going to leave the village?"  She repeated.
"Before sundown," Sasuke finally replied. "There are a few things I have to talk with to the village leader before we go, but you’re not needed."
Sakura gave a sigh of relief.  Iwanai’s leader, Yasuo, was well-meaning, but Sakura couldn’t shake off the embarrassment of the initial first impression.
They ate their breakfast in relative silence, punctuated with an occasional comment by Sakura on Naruto’s wedding.  Sasuke would often respond with a grunt, or hum, not quite participating in the conversation, but not discouraging her either.  He left as soon as soon as the messenger hawk was sent off,  heading toward the small cliff by an adjacent mountain that served as the village center.  Sakura was looking forward to leaving Iwanai, they needed a change of scenery and Sasuke was the happiest when he was traveling.
Sakura went to her pack and retrieved a change of clothes before heading to the top of the mountain where the public baths were.  Most of the village was rose early and preferred to take their baths in the evening to wash off the sweat off of their bodies after the high sun.  She was delighted to see it was empty and took the time to enjoy the peace and cool water in silence. By the time she returned to their cave, Sasuke had returned and packed their belongings.  She sealed her dirty clothing in a scroll and tucked into a side pocket.
"Are we finally leaving?"  
Sasuke gave her a small peck on her lips and spoke into her ear. "I have a surprise for you." His kisses were always soft, like the sea lapping at her feet on the beachside before retreating.
Sasuke stepped away, motioning for her to follow with a tilt of his head before he exited the cave. Sakura placed her fingers on her lips, a smile on her face.  Grinning to herself, she stuffed the scroll her pack and tugged the straps on her shoulders to follow him.  Her mind whirled as she tried to guess the surprise.  Maybe he had someone make her a weapon?  There were a couple of exceptionally skilled swordsmiths in Iwanai.
The landed at the edge of the town, and Sasuke reached out to pull Sakura's hand into his own.  Her breath hitched and she looked away, her face burning as his thumb caressed the pulse point on her wrist.  A small kiss in a cave was one thing, but public affection as well?
Today was a wonderful day.
Sasuke led her through the town with a purpose, past the shops and swordsmiths and to the village square. Sakura's skin prickled uncomfortably as the further they walked into town.  Every villager she saw had a broom in hand.  It was necessary for the entire village to be sweeping at the same time. She glanced in Sasuke's direction and relaxed since he seemed unperturbed by their strange coincidence.  Maybe it was some sort of town sweeping festival?
The village leader was sitting on a bench to their left. Sakura grimaced when she noticed Yasuo had his finger jammed up his nose.  He stood up when he noticed them holding out his contaminated hand for a shake. Sasuke only had one hand and it was currently holding on to Sakura’s hand with an iron grip.  
Coward.
 Remembering that her hands had been in many other disgusting locations, Sakura politely returned the handshake.  Yasuo gave her a toothy smile, the clapped his hands together.  The villagers stopped sweeping and approached, crowding around them. Sakura looked up to Sasuke, but he gave her a smile she knew that was meant to be reassuring.  
It didn’t help.
Yasuo climbed up onto the bench to speak to the crowd.  "It’s time to show our guests how we do weddings here in Iwanai."
"Wedding?" Sakura choked out.  She frantically swept her eyes across the crowd in search of some young happy couple.  Or maybe an old miserable couple, she wasn't picky. The crowd did not part but remained fixed in her direction.    
Sakura’s suspicion was confirmed as Yasuo’s smile faltered.  She spun in Sasuke’s direction.
"What the fuck?"
Part Fifteen
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lazyfox411 · 7 years ago
Text
I’ll Try
aka the college au where shiro studies way too hard and needs a little help from his roomie keith :P this would have been posted a lot sooner but I was away for a few days :( don’t be afraid to send me feedback on my writing but go easy on me haha im still not used to this “sharing your work with other human beings” thing XD
Keith watched, practically scowling, as Shiro slumped farther over the kitchen table, straining to read the text in front of him.
“Why is this so hard to read?” Shiro asked in frustration. “I think I need glasses. It’s like the letters keep moving. Why are they moving? They’re words, they don’t need exercise.”
“Probably because you’re shaking,” Keith muttered, grabbing Shiro’s textbook and folding it shut. “I think you should take a break from studying.”
“Hey!” Shiro cried indignantly. He made a half-hearted grab for the book, only to let his hand flop back down to the table. He looked up at Keith through bloodshot eyes. “Give it back.”
“No. With finals coming up, you’ve been working yourself way too hard, and I’m not just gonna sit around and watch anymore. You always lecture me about being reckless, but look in the mirror. I’m not the only one who needs to improve their self care.”
Shiro sighed. “I just get so stressed over finals, it’s like I can’t even function properly.”
“Dude, you haven’t slept in like three days and I watched you mix Red Bull in your coffee yesterday morning. Trust me, I know you’re freaked out over this.”
“I’m just so tired,” Shiro moaned, resting his head on his arms.
“It’s okay,” Keith soothed. Seeing Shiro like this always left him heartbroken. Normally he was in control, always on top of things, finishing assignments on time and handing in essays a week before they were due. But as soon as finals week loomed over them, Shiro broke down. It was like he forgot who he was, and was replaced by an over-caffeinated, sleep-deprived wisp of a person, face ashen except for the radish-colored flush plastered on his cheeks. If Keith didn’t know any better, he would have guessed that Shiro had been in a fight; the lack of sleep had given him the appearance of two black eyes.
“It’s okay,” Keith repeated. He’d been terrified when Shiro had nearly worked himself to the point of needing an emergency room trip during their first year of college, but this year he was a little more prepared. He knew now that all his roommate needed was someone to be there for him and make sure he was well taken care of. And Keith was going to try his absolute best to be that person.
“Just try to relax,” Keith told him, gently laying his hands on Shiro’s shoulders and doing his best to work away the tension that plagued him.
Shiro moaned again, happily this time. “That feels good.”
Keith smiled at him sadly. “You look pretty tired, buddy. I think a nap would do you some good.”
“No.” Shiro shook his head abruptly, brushing Keith off and reaching for his textbook again. “I gotta study.”
Keith slapped a hand down on the book to prevent Shiro from picking it up. “Come on, man. Look at yourself. You can hardly keep your head up, how on earth do you think you’re going to get any studying done?”
“I guess you’re right.”
The fact that he would admit to Keith being right was a telltale sign he really was feeling awful. Keith took his arm and led him to the couch, tucking him under a blanket and fluffing one of the throw pillows for him.
“You’re still shaking,” Keith frowned.
“M’head hurts,” was the mumbled reply he got.
“Alright, I’m going to get you a glass of water. That might help with your headache. And then I’m going to sit right here on this couch with you until you fall asleep.” Keith didn’t leave any time for Shiro to object before he left the room.
“Do we have any Tylenol?” Shiro asked after he’d downed a second glass of water.
“We do, but with all that caffeine you’ve been taking in, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. How much coffee have you had today?”
Shiro shrugged meekly. “I dunno. A lot.”
“Mmhm. I thought so. No wonder you’re all shaky.”
“Make it stop,” Shiro whined. He rolled over and buried his face in Keith’s leg.
“Go to sleep,” Keith ordered softly, resuming his efforts to loosen the taut muscles of Shiro’s back and shoulders.
Shiro tensed up even more at the massaging. “Stop that,” he groaned.
“What’s wrong?” Keith asked. “You loved this two minutes ago.”
Shiro did his best to explain the uncomfortable sensation in one sentence: “My skin hurts.”
“Your…skin hurts?” Keith echoed.
Shiro nodded.
“Can you tell me anything else about how you feel?”
“Um…tired? Sore? I have a headache. And a stomach ache. And I guess my throat hurts a little bit, too.”
Keith got more worried with every symptom added to the list. Surely this couldn’t all just be from overexertion. Keith had been staying up late to study as well, and while he was pretty exhausted, he was nowhere near as bad off as Shiro.
Shiro shivered when he felt Keith’s fingers brush against his forehead. “Your hands are cold.”
“You’re burning up.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You’ve definitely got a fever.”
Shiro pulled the blanket tighter around himself upon hearing the dreadful news.
“Are you cold?” Keith asked him.
“No,” Shiro said. “I’m too hot. Or am I too cold? I’m sorry, I can’t tell, I’m all sweaty and gross.” He felt Keith stand up next to him, and he reached weakly after his roommate. “Keith, where are you going? Come back.”
“I’ll be right back, don’t worry.”
A few moments later, he felt the dip of the couch cushions that meant Keith had returned.
“Now what are you doing?” Shiro asked as his shirt was pulled over his head, too tired to do anything but sit there and watch. He didn’t get an answer, just the blessedly cool feeling of a damp washcloth on his neck.
Keith continued to wipe him down, finishing by smoothing back his hair and placing a fresh cloth over his forehead.
“There,” Keith said, satisfied with his work. “How’s that?”
“Better.” Shiro snuggled blissfully back under his blanket.
“Do you think you can sleep now?”
“Don’t know. My throat is worse now.”
“Hm. I don’t think we have anything in the apartment that could help with that. But if it’s that bad, I could go pick you up some lozenges. Or maybe popsicles.”
“Popsicles sounds good.”
“Alright. What kind?”
“I like the blue ones,” Shiro said through a sheepish smile.
“Blue popsicles, coming right up. I’ll make a quick trip to the grocery store.”
Shiro caught Keith’s arm before he could leave. “You’ll be quick?”
“Ten minutes,” Keith promised.
The sound of Keith’s car engine was the last thing Shiro remembered before he fell asleep sprawled on the couch.
“Shiro, I’m home,” Keith called quietly, not wanting to wake him up if he was asleep. “I got your popsi—oh. I guess I left them in the car.”
“K-Keith?” Shiro sniffled from his spot on the couch.
“Shiro! What’s wrong?” Keith rushed to his side and wiped a few stray tears from his friend’s face.
“I-I’m late,” Shiro sobbed, “I m-missed my f-final exam. I gotta get to class right now. Right now, Keith, you gotta help me get to class.”
“Shiro, what the hell are you talking about?” Keith asked. “It’s Saturday, neither of us have classes on Saturday. And your first test isn’t until Monday.”
“No, you don’t understand. You don’t…you…you don’t…” Shiro’s eyes went wide, his breath hitching as he desperately tried to rid himself of the blanket. Keith had known him long enough to know that this was what happened when his anxieties got the best of him.
“I can’t…I can’t breathe,” Shiro wheezed, hands scrabbling at his bare chest, eyes darting around the room and finally locking onto Keith, who intervened before he could hyperventilate completely.
“Shh, it’s okay, Shiro. You’re okay. You can breathe, you’re fine. Just breathe. You’re okay, Shiro,” Keith said slowly, looking into Shiro’s dark, wild eyes. He delicately took Shiro’s hand and placed it over his chest, hoping that worry hadn’t made his heart beat too fast. “Focus on that, okay, buddy? Try and make yours match. Just breathe.”
“Make mine…match,” Shiro panted, gulping back tears.
“Yeah, there you go,” Keith offered a small smile. “Deep breaths. Do it with me. In, out. In, and out.”
Shiro followed his instructions, sucking in air and expelling it in heavy huffs.
“You’re okay,” Keith reminded.
“I’m okay,” Shiro nodded. “I’m okay.”
What little energy Shiro had left had been completely sapped by his narrowly avoided panic attack. He collapsed against Keith, sinking deeper into the couch. Part of him wondered if it might swallow them both whole. Another part debated whether or not he would mind that.
Keith stiffened when Shiro pressed closer to him. Not only was this Shiro trying to cuddle him, it was Shiro trying to cuddle him with dangerous waves of heat pouring from his body.
“Shit, okay, that fever is way worse,” Keith panicked. “Sit tight, I’m going to get the thermometer.” This got a whimper from Shiro, who anxiously awaited his return.
“Open up, Keith commanded. He slid the device under Shiro’s tongue.
While they waited, Keith allowed Shiro to snuggle up to him again. Keith held him, patted him, stroked his hair while Shiro whined softly, trying to mumble something through the thermometer.
Keith snatched it up the instant it beeped. Shiro, now free to speak, said, “Keith, will you take me to class? I need to get to class.”
“104.7! No wonder you’re so out of it. This isn’t good.”
“Keith, you need to drive me to class.”
“Yup,” Keith dragged Shiro to is feet, blanket and all, and shoved him towards the door. “I’ll take you. Let’s go.”
After buckling him safely into the passenger seat of the car, Keith ripped open the box of popsicles and stuffed one in Shiro’s hand.
“Here. It’s blue. Maybe it’ll help cool you down.” He started the engine and took no time speeding out of the driveway.
Shiro watched lazily as tree whizzed by, then some houses, and finally their campus. “We’re not going to class, are we?”
Keith sighed, glancing over at Shiro, whose lips had turned a neon blue from the popsicle. He would have found it comical if Shiro wasn’t so sick.
“No,” Keith said. “I’m taking you to the hospital, buddy. You’ve got a crazy high fever.”
Shiro, dazed as he was, seemed to sense that something was off in Keith’s voice. “Keith?” he slurred.
“Yeah?”
“It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah.”
“And Keith?”
“What is it?”
“Thanks for lookin’ out for me.”
Keith gave him a tight-lipped smile. “You got it, buddy. But please, next time finals roll around, promise me you’ll take better care of yourself?”
“I’ll try.”
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Text
Terrible Things (Dick Grayson X Reader)
 Song story for “Terrible Things” By: Mayday Parade
Schninner: Okay guys, first song imagine thing, so I apologize if this is no good. This is also not requested, I listened to the song and I thought, “How can I make this even more heartbreaking?” XD
Tagging @the-singing-canary​ and the angst queen @maruthor​ as well as @preppygothica​  @angstytodd​ @batlog​ @cuddles-for-cassie​
(The “reader” is female)
Key: [F/F] Favorite Flower [N/N] Nick name [H/T] Hair type
Warnings: swearing, angst, and deathlyness
Word count: 2492
Master List
By the time I was your age, I'd give anything To fall in love truly, was all I could think That's when I met your mother, the girl of my dreams The most beautiful woman, that I'd ever seen
Dick Grayson let his eyes wander across the cafe as he waited for his coffee. His rubbed his sleep deprived blue eyes and let out a loud yawn, running his fingers through his dirty raven black hair. He was a hot mess, with his greasy hair, messy and ripped jeans, and wearing a shirt that was two sizes too large.
He groggily scratched his stubbled chin as he quickly observed each new and unfamiliar face, and froze when he saw yours. You were seated at a booth, a cup of coffee in one hand, and your other dancing across the keyboard of your laptop. Your [H/C] hair was tied up in a messy bun with your [E/C] eyes staring intensely at your screen. His breath hitched as he took in your appearance. You were perfect.
He watched you as you leaned back in your seat, rubbing your own bags from under your eyes and bringing the coffee to your lips, and raising your eyes to meet his.  He quickly turned around, his cheeks flushed to a bright crimson, while his heart thumped quickly. He swore softly under his breath.
How long had he been staring?
That’s when he felt a light tap on his shoulder, he turned around, only to find himself in the presence of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
She said, "Boy, can I tell you a wonderful thing? I can't help but notice, you're staring at me. I know I shouldn't say this, but I really believe, I can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me." Now, son, I'm only telling you this Because life can do terrible things.
You had an atmosphere of confidence around you, with a sly smile on your face, you stuck your hand out for him to shake.
“[F/N] [L/N], now, it’s been wonderful having someone good looking as your self-checking me out, but what if we got to know each other a little better?”
His eyes widened as he became all too aware of how much of a mess he was. But he managed to talk in semi-complete sentences.
“Richard- err- Dick Grayson, and I, um, you know, there's a possibility, err- I’m interested. “
Your smile only seemed to grow larger at his flustered behavior.
“Great! Can I see your phone?”
“My… Phone…?” he questioned slowly pulling out his cellular device
You rolled your eyes, “For my number? So we can, ya know, make a date?”
“Right! Of course!” he said a bit to eagerly. He silently cursed himself as he watched you punched your number in his phone. You handed it back to him, “Great! Well, I’ll be talking to you soon ‘Dick Grayson.’”
His eyes trailed after you, observing your every movement at you picked up you bag and walked out of the coffee.
There wasn’t a doubt in his mind, never in his whole life had he been so sure, that he was in love.
Now, most of the time we'd have too much to drink And we'd laugh at the stars and we'd share everything Too young to notice, and too dumb to care Love was a story that couldn't compare.
The night was cool and crisp, the summer breeze kissing your cheeks as cries of laughter silenced the singing crickets.
“Dick!” You shrieked, squirming in your boyfriend’s arms. “Unhand me you fiend!”
You kicked your legs in the air, giggling uncontrollably.
Dick nuzzled his face into your [H/T] [H/C] his deep and jovial voice ringing in your ear, “Now, why would I do that?”
His warm arms hugging your elevated body even closer to him.
You dramatically puffed your cheeks out into a childish pout, sending a chuckle to escape Dick’s lips.
“Well, if you don’t put me down, I’ll-”
Dick lost balance, falling to the ground, and rolling down the hill with you still in his arms. Down you two went, descending on the gently sloping grassy hill until you both van to a stop at the bottom. Dick’s arms still wrapped protectively around you.
The only sound heard was your heavy breathing, that is until you filled the silence with amused laughter.
You rolled off of your boyfriend, clutching your stomach as the fits of giggles continued.
“Great job there Romeo!” you managed to tell him between breaths.
Dick blushed bright pink, and laughed along.
Hours passed by, you two laughing, pointing at the stars, and making up constellations. peaceful silence settled on both of you, when you decide to Roll over on top of your boyfriend.
His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't shake you off. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed in thought as you gently began to play with the ends of his raven black hair.
“Everything alright [F/N]?” he asked, concern filling his voice.
“Yes, it’s just that- I kinda - you know- what I’m trying to say is-” you heaved a large and anxious sigh, hesitantly pulling your hand away from his hair.
“I love you. I love you Dick Grayson.”
Dick’s eyes grew in shock at the sudden confession, he your words sink in, warming him up from head to toe, before answering with a cocky grin on his face.
“Well, that's good,” he stated, gaining a raised eyebrow from you.
He quickly lifted his head, sealing your lips with his in a long breathless kiss.
“Cause I love you too.”
I said, "Girl, can I tell you a wonderful thing? I made you a present with paper and string. Open with care now, I'm asking you, please. You know that I love you, will you marry me?"
It had been several years since you and Dick had started seeing each other, every year having its ups and downs, but you two had always managed to make things right again.
This, to say the least, was probably not one of your highest points.
Dick had angrily left your shared apartment, with you cursing his name, sending bitter words his way.
That night you saw him on the news, watched as he, as Nightwing, took on several assailants at once, leaving him broken and scarred, but he would not back down.
You held your breathe, and sobbed as you watched as he was tossed aside like a rag doll, cursing your sf for being so harsh to him before.
Batman and Robin, along with Red Robin and Red Hood showed up at the scene before any mortal injury could be done to your Night wing.
You turned the TV off and waited with baited breatge1, watching the front door for any sign of movement. Several hours passed before the door opened up to Dick in his civilian clothes. With his arm in a sling and several cuts and bruises across his face.
In a heartbeat, without thinking, you leapt up and ran to him, embracing your boyfriend tightly while sobbing.
“Ow ow ow ow! Broken Ribs! Broken Ribs!” he groaned, inhaling sharply at the sudden burst of pain.
“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, loosening your hold on the vigilante, but still keeping him in your arms, “I’m so sorry Dick, I didn’t mean what I said, and when you were out their fighting today, I thought- I thought…”
You trailed off, with new sobs reaching your throat.
Dick hushed you, while stroking your [H/C] hair with his good hand. “Hey, it’s okay! I’m alive and breathing! Besides, you can't get rid of me that easily.”
You looked up from his chest to those azure eyes that you loved oh so much.
“I love you.” you told him, your eyes wet and puffy from crying.
“I love you to [F/N],” he said, a sudden look of hesitation flashed in his eyes, as if he were debating something.
“Ahh, what the hell.” he said, carefully breaking the embrace and kneeling to the ground.
“Dick, what are you-” You gasped once you saw what he was awkwardly fumbling for. A small black box.
“Oh my gosh!” you breathlessly exclaimed, holding your hands up to you face as Dick managed to open up the box with his only available hand. A gold ring with pale [F/C] diamonds sat on a red cushion.
“[F/N], I love you, and can’t imagine my life without you in it, so,” he swallowed hard, beads of nervous sweat appeared on his brow, “I guess what I’m trying to ask you, is… Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” you said, kneeling down in front of him so he wouldn’t strain himself more than he already had. Tears of joy streamed down your face as you held his in your hands, pulling him into many breathless kisses.
Now, son, I'm only telling you this Because life can do terrible things You'll learn, one day, I'll hope and I'll pray, That God shows you differently.
Several more years passed by in a blink of an eye. You were now Mr. and Mrs. Grayson, with a quaint, but nice condo with plans to start a family of your very own. And that’s when the migraines came. They started off as small headaches, but gradually became more frequent and painful. You had dismissed them, not bothering to tell Dick, no need for him to get worried over nothing, right?
Wrong.
Dick had noticed your frequent use of ibuprofen and the constant rubbing of your temples with an agonized expression.
He sat next to you on your couch, where you had sat to save yourself from passing out, the pain was just that unbearable. He gently wrapped his large arms around your body, hugging you close to him. You melted into his embrace, burrowing your head into the crook of his arm.
“Your hurting, aren’t you?” He softly said into your hair.
You nodded your head slowly with your eyes still closed, letting out a quite whimper, “yes.”
“It’s okay,” He said kissing your head, “We’re going to go get help, bring you to a doctor, and they’re going to fix you right up.”
You opened your eyes and smiled at your husband, nodding your head, “Your right, I’ll be as good as new.”
But of course, you were both wrong.
She said, "Boy, can I tell you a terrible thing? It seems that I'm sick and I've only got weeks. Please, don't be sad now, I really believe, You were the greatest thing that ever happened to me."
A Brain tumor.
That’s what the doctor had said you nearly 7 months ago. Surgery was out of the question; it was much too large for that. They had told you that the only thing they could do for you, was give you medication for the pain.
“Two more weeks”
The dreadful words bounced through Dick’s mind. You two had gone in for your monthly check up, only to find that the tumor was growing at alarming rate, so much so, that you only had about 1 or 2 weeks at best, until you were gone.
“I’ll let you two talk it out, please, take all the time you need.” The doctor said with gentle kindness, leaving the room to you and your husband.
Two weeks.
Tears shot into Dick’s eyes, as he pulled you into a bear hug. Two weeks was not enough, you two were supposed to grow old together, start a family, you were supposed to live together. But all of that was gone.
“Hey, it’ okay.” You said, rubbing his back with one hand while stroking his hair with the other. “We’ll make it through this, just like we always do.”
“How?!” Dick exclaimed, anger suddenly raising in his voice, “You heard what the doctor said, 1 week, two at best. And then all of this,” he gestured to their surroundings “it’s all over! It’s almost as if it were for nothing!”
He was pissed, not at you, but at the world, at fate, at himself because he couldn't do a damn thing to help you! All he could do was sit and watch as you slowly whither away.
“Hey,” you calmly said, placing your palms on either side of his face, “don’t say that, don’t say that we were meant for nothing.” your voice cracking as your calm and collective mask disappearing and large tears welling in your eyes. “This was no mistake. Because You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
You wiped the tears from your eyes, “the only thing I regret is putting you through all this.”
New tears emerged to replace the old ones. “I’m sorry Dick!”
Dick’s heart sunk, in his chest as he watched the tears stream down your face, he reached out and brushed the ears from your face, before pulling you close.
“No [F/N], I’m sorry.” He squeezed you tightly, breathing in your scent, “I never regret meeting you, or falling in love with you, you made my life worth living.”
“I love you,” You heaved into his chest, clutching tightly to his biceps.
Tears fell from his eyes onto your hair, “I love you too.”
Slow, so slow I fell to the ground on my knees.
The cool crisp fall air caressed Dick’s cheek as he stood in front of your headstone.  
Gone.
Just like that.
Barely made it a week before you drifted off in your sleep.
“Hey, [N/N], I-I brought you something.” His voice cracking with emotion.
“They’re [F/F],” He said shakily, “Your favorite, and I cleaned out the house to today.” HIs hand shook as he reached into his pocket, “I found-” He sniffed and let out a short chuckle, unfolding the photograph. “It’s a picture of us on our wedding day,” tears were streaming down his face as new sobs raked through his body, he pointed a cold finger at the image of you, you two were shoving cake into each other’s face.
“Y-you had smeared it all in my hair, I was washing frosting out for nearly a week-” a cry escaped his lips, shaking his body and sending him crashing to the cold ground. He clawed at the ground, his chest heaved and filled with sorrow.
“I can’t!” he wailed.
“I can’t do this anymore!’
So don't fall in love, there's just too much to lose If you're given the choice, then I beg you to choose To walk away, walk away, don't let her get you. I can't bear to see the same happen to you.
“I need you here, with me. I can’t go on without you!” Tears splattered to the ground.
“Please [F/N], I miss you.”
Now, son, I'm only telling you this Because life can do terrible things
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