#I’m so angry sad right now for a number of stupid reasons

[bitsandbobcats]

My hurt could really use some comfort right now >:(

[ekpriyasi]

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : jungkook x reader

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: yandere, best friend to lover, jungkook is a hotty, angst

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: keep a tissue box with you guys

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 : He loves bieng my friend ,but he has girlfriend who he loves ....could this possibly change him from your close friend to a distant person .. And 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘤𝘰mfort

𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 :-

𝗔/𝗻: first all i am so sorry, so so so sorry.. I know it took this long but I just had a lot in plate this past time....i hope you enjoy 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀

*************************.

You cried, cried until you slept that night everything was blurry . For days you felt like you were sick nothing was making you happy you didn't wanted to live.

You felt utterly used Ridiculous.

Days after your argument with him. You ran into him at the grocery store .You went there so you could distract yourself after being shut in your apartment for 9 days . You were angry , you clearly were but then again you were naive you wanted to have a civil conversation. If it was to end you wanted to end this all on good terms.

"Hey" you greeted him, nervousness evident in your voice." uhh...hi" He could possibly see dark circles under your eyes it caused an uneasy feeling inside his heart. " Kook... Umm I wa -"

You were cut by an utterly annoying female voice you wished you never heard " jungkookie ... What is she doing here" . This bitch "I thought you said you ended your shitty friendship with her " that was your last straw, you knew she was the one that caused the drift between you and jungkook .

But you never thought he will bring the argument you two had in this way to her.. Clearly stating that he ended... "Oh , so you really wanted to end this up.. That's why you brought that shitty excuse of being busy " You said, not being able to control your emotions further. " Nari.. This is not what I meant.. Listen to me"

He sounded somewhat panicked" Stop stop it " You ran past him out of the store not being able to listen anything moreHe ran after you. He wanted to keep you away from him but reason and things where different than it was looking.. He held your hand turning you so you could face him " Listen to me, nari I don't want you to do anything stupid ".

"Shut up .. I am Fucking stupid… I’m so fucking stupid,” you cried.“Do I really not matter enough to you? All these years of being your best friend and… and this is how you treat me? I know you’re busy, I know work is hard. But college is hard too, people aren’t nice all the time and sometimes I wish I could call you, but I don’t want to bother you at work,” You cried harder

." Nari.. Please " You never screamed at him, you didn’t scream at anybody. You were always so soft, so gentle and tender. You were understanding. But Jungkook hurt you .More than once.And you were tired of it.

“I’m so sick of the person I love more than anything, hurting me like this… if this is how you’re going to treat me then I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” you said, voice breaking.“No, nari , please! Please don’t do this, I love you so much, just things are not straight right now nari, please!” He said, tears in his own eyes.

“Goodbye, Jeon… hope it’s worth it,” you said, turning to leave.Jungkook froze, his cheek stinging but he could hardly feel it over the agonizing pain that flared in his chest.He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.He was a fool…And he’d lost you for good

._______________*______________

Months passed and Jungkook stayed far away from you.No texts.No calls.But even after four months apart, you still couldn’t delete his number from your phone.

You couldn't bring yourself enjoying something or even talking to people . Its hard trying to ignore the pain in your heart but it's just there not going anywhere.. No matter matter how much you try you miss him, you really do You were now at the club waiting for your date to come , it weird being there alone.

It's not that you have come here first time but it's first time at club without jungkook. The volume of the music playing at this club was enough to blast your earbuds. The sweaty bodies clinging to your skin and the body odour in the air filling your nose trills was giving you ick. Sure, people are getting wild as time passes by but the dim lights was making it more sensual contrast to the atmosphere.

And there you see those dark eyes you wished you could just ignore staring at you , first at your face then at your outfit. It was the same outfit you suggested to buy just to tease jungkook cause it was way to reveling and he refused saying he don't want some weird guys ogling at you.

But after your fight you just found yourself doing everything that he refused to , out of annoyance just like you are doing now. He knew you didn't know he was there but your dress that was something he knew you did to irk him. “Hey! Y/n?” someone’s voice calling out to you make you came out of your thoughts.

When you focused, you saw your date standing a few foots away from you. You guys goes on a date some days ago, it went well and he suggested you should go on more dates with him, he would love that. He genuinely showed his interest towards you, even confessed to you that he likes you, very much. You were just feeling so sick of jungkook staring at you as if he will eat you . So without even a second thought you hugged your date.

If jungkook was there with his girlfriend enjoying why can't you. Jungkook is pissed, so much so that he goes straight to the seat he was occupying before, where his friends were seated and chugs down two shots in one go. Why is he so mad? He don’t know. Does It bothered him to see you with another man? Yes. Does he want you to stay by his side rather than that pathetic little piece of shit? Abso-fucking-lutely YES!

Jungkook just shrug it off as he took another shot which go straight down his throat, burning it in it’s way down. He doesn’t seem to find the reason why you like this men? Let alone date him? As much as he know, you’re not someone who is interested in these stuffs, so why now? It confuses and bothers him at another level.

What were you going to do now, have drinks with your date, kiss him or.. going to take him to your house and let him take your virginity. Now he found himself getting furious. But was he even getting himself so worked upMinutes passed, and then hour..... You were still with that guy visibly drunk as hell , and ready to go with him to probably fuck... That was the last straw for jungkook-

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

𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝓾 𝓮𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓽 ... 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓿𝓲𝓮𝔀𝓼 𝓸𝓷 𝓲𝓽 🦢☁✨

[aheathen-conceivably]

Now that we know a little more, clearly Gio is pretty ticked off with the situation - considering the feelings that he has about his and Jo’s relationship already, combined with the guilt and likely irritation of her finding out about his lying, now also combined with her demanding part ownership of the ranch - he doesn’t have a lot of leg to stand on. He has to just, deal with it, because it IS all their lives’ on the line, and nothing he’s tried to do has worked. I voted for Zelda to be most pissed, but I think she and Antoine are really just sad for now, so Gio might run away with the title after all 😭

Oh HELLO my friend! I love that we’re still playing the game of “Who Will Snap First!” (Game show pending). You’re hella right about one thing, as things shift and move, everybody’s numbers start to kind of adjust don’t they? Cause ahem, yeah, Gio is ~not pleased~ at the moment, and like you said, he doesn’t even feel like he has the “right” to be angry (which is its own sort of compounding factor, isn’t it?).

Is it time for a Gio deep dive? Welp. Gather one gather round my darlings because you know I can never resist….

Ted Talk with a Heathen! (Obviously under the cut because I’m a madlad)

First and foremost let me say that for whatever else Jo may do or how she demanded it, she is damn right not to pay off a loan without some legal backing in return. Now does she know this? For sure. But does she also know that she did it to get under Gio’s skin in a way that nothing else could? Absolutely. I’ve talked about it a little here, but Gio’s entire mindset is wrapped up in this farmhouse. It is his American dream. We also need to remember that he did what he said he never would in order to get the money to buy it, which is involve himself in his family bootlegging back in the 1920s. He even admitted to Antoine that after their one deal he tried to get out, but “once they get their teeth into you, once they know where you are, they don’t let you stop.” So Gio saved up this money by going against his own moral code and then ran from it to a place he thought he could establish himself as a “legitimate” American.

And I know yall like to rag on him about “making bad choices,” and while that’s partially true, Gio is just horribly, horribly unlucky. Buying land in the American West was incredibly fortuitous at one point in history, and it’s these stories that prompted Gio to do this at all. He’s an example of how not only can we buy into propaganda with our money and our dreams, but how they intersect with historical circumstances in ways far beyond our control or predictions.

Now to add to this, Gio knows what Jo has just done. She’s essentially taken part of what’s incredibly personal and precious to him as “payment” for what he did to her: which was trying to control her into fitting neatly into his dream when she had told him no multiple times before. In doing so he took away what was most precious to her: control and autonomy over her own life. It’s why he’s not really fighting her, and that deep seated Catholic guilt is simply telling him that this is retribution. But you can only write off someone else’s actions as righteous for so long, can’t you? And to make matters worse, let’s not forget….

Gio is not stupid. He knows something is going on between Jo and Val. How much of him thinks it’s just flirtation? How much of it is genuine or is just Jo once again trying to “get back at him”? But he’s staying quiet about it for a reason, most likely the same reason he’s willing to roll over and let Jo take 1/4th ownership of his dream. He’s motivated by guilt and ideas of righteous payback, yes, but he’s also taking a gamble that Jo is working through his betrayal in a way that he has to let her get through, and he’s attempting to let go of control to show her that he won’t do it again.

Essentially, he’s overcompensating for his actions and using his own compliance as a sort of “play” in their game to keep the other person where they want them. Is this potentially more motivated by love and less problematic than him directly lying to her to get her to stay? Y’all can make the call on that, but now at the very least, he’s the one suffering for it rather than her.

Now with all that going on, how far is this man willing to bend? How intuitive is Jo to when she’s pushed him too far and how much of her even gives a damn? Welp. There’s your questions on today’s episode of 1930s: Arc Two! Who Will Snap First? with more info coming at you tomorrow! 🫡

[mossy-opal]

To Lay Beneath

Succubus! Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: SMUT!!!!! HEAVY SMUT!!!! Heavy Sub and Dom Tones, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Safe Word Usage (we believe in safe sex here)

Did I get really into this and write a 2,800 word fic?.... No. You're seeing things.

Males were rare. They weren’t often produced, and if they were, they were oftentimes seen as… Weak. Usually, males were Incubi, and females were Succubi. For a male to be born a Succubus, it just made things harder on them. Humans were far too inferior to really understand, as humans were often too picky. Unfortunately, that led to many nights Shigaraki went hungry. This often led to him being snippy, and angry, and that made it even harder for him to find someone, anyone, to feed off of…

It was just stupid, being constantly teased by others of his kind, and being constantly rejected by those of a lesser species. It was ridiculous!

Making his way down the street, he moved through the crowds looking for someone who would satisfy him, looking for anyone who seemed just as desperate as he was.

Everything was just so annoying…

He bumped into someone, that just made him hiss.

“Hey! Watch it!”

Dammit, they were pretty too- “Ah, I’m sorry sweetie, I wasn’t looking where I was going..!”

Wait.

What?

Sweetie!?

He could already feel his face flush as he sputtered out an “it’s fine”, and you didn’t make it any better by smiling at him, and gently laughing. What was so funny!?

“You’re pretty cute y’know that? Here, let me make it up to you, let me get you a coffee?”

Your consistent compliments didn’t help him any, “Sure, fine, whatever…”

You were silent for most of the time you two sat together, Tomura was poking at his drink with his straw, and staring at the food you bought him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to eat it, it just wouldn’t be what he really needed, and it’d probably only make him feel worse.

“What’s your name, cutie?”

He clicked his tongue, “Shigaraki…”

“Got a first name?”

He was silent for a moment, and you took that chance to introduce yourself. You seemed confident, as if you knew what you wanted. He felt like he was a piece of meat, and for some reason, he liked it.

“Well, that first name?”

“Tomura…. Tomura Shigaraki…”

“Thank you! So…”

And thus, you started small talk. You told him a little bit about yourself, he told you some things about himself in return, and at the end of it, you gave him your number.

This was not how he planned his day to go.

But it was better than nothing. He got free coffee, and a hot person's number. This was probably the best day of his life, though he’d never say it aloud. He even got real food at the end of the night, some desperate girl trying to get back at her man after she caught him cheating- He didn’t catch her name, he didn’t care to. All he wanted was her pleasure, her lust, hell even her sadness would feed him for now.

He took as much as he could.

He didn’t get around to texting you until about a day later, sending just his name. He jumped when his phone went off almost immediately.

[Hey! It’s nice to hear from you! Thought I’d never get another date! How does Friday sound? I wanna go see a new movie, and would hate to go alone!]

You had to be kidding.

How should he respond? He’s never made plans like this before- He had no clue how to handle this-

[[Sure.]]

[Awesome! See ya then cutie!]

He hoped some day you’d stop calling him that… Though he doubted it…

•

•

•

He was right. The more you two hung out, the more you used those nicknames for him. The more you two got to know each other, the more flirtatious you got. Hell, you even showed him off to people, telling them you were best friends, and the wedding was in spring… It was like whiplash with you. He didn’t know how to handle it, but at the same time, he felt very different about you.

He couldn’t explain it very well, and he didn’t know if he should. He liked how it made him feel… Full. He would rather die than admit it, but you made him happy. He was less snippy, and you teased him about how he’s warmed up to you, and he denies it, but he knows it’s true.

He likes you a lot more than he’s supposed to like his food.

But you were kind to him, you made him feel special. You spoiled him with nothing but friendship and care, and you never asked for anything in return. Maybe a shoulder to cry on every now and then, but other than that he was just your friend.

Why is it that when he told himself that, his chest hurt…?

Things seemed stagnant at that point… Until one night…

•

•

•

“Tomura…”

He grunted in response, he was playing a game while you were reading, your legs over his thighs.

“Tomura~”

“What..!?”

You giggled, “Tomu-sweetie, I have a question~”

He groaned, “What is it? I’m in the middle of a-”

“Do you like me?”

His grip on the controller tightened, but he stayed silent. His mouth was open and he swiftly shut it. He was happy the lights were off, or else you’d see his face was flushed.

“Tomura, answer me~” He could practically hear your teasing smirk.

“Why?”

“Because it’s rude to keep someone on the edge..” He could hear the pout in your voice.

“No, I don’t like you.” You laughed.

“It’s also rude to lie~”

He paused his game, glaring at you. You had a smile on your face, as if you hadn’t just teased him about how he felt. What was your end game? What did it matter to you?

“What if I do, huh? What, are we gonna stop being friends? I expected it to happen at some point, why not rip the bandaid off now-”

He was silenced when you moved.

You were straddling him.

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to talk again, but you put a finger to his lips.

“Ah ah ah, no. You spoke enough, sweetie. It’s my turn now, okay~?”

He gulped, but nodded. What was even happening right now?

“Good boy… Now, do me a favour and be honest, okay~? Do. You. Like. Me~?”

He shuddered, “Y-yes….”

“See how hard that was? Now, if you couldn’t tell, I like you too…”

“S…. S-so…?”

You chuckled, and if it didn’t send shivers up his spine he’d be even more of a liar.

“I think you know. Follow me.”

You got off of him, and he was quick to get to his feet, almost tripping over the controller cord, his game forgotten on the TV. He watched you walk in front of him, leading him to your room. You led him to the edge of the bed, and sat down. You pat the spot next to you, and he sat, being sure to put his hands in his lap.

“We’re going to go over some rules, okay?”

“O-okay…”

“I want you, Tomura. Do you want me?”

He nodded and you scolded him, “No, I need words.”

“Y-yes, I… I want you…”

He saw you smirk out of the corner of his eye.

“Good. Now, red means stop, yellow means slow down, or go slow, and green means go. Does that work for you?”

“U-uh, sure, y-yea… Uhm…”

You got up, taking your shirt off. He averted his eyes. He had to tell you, he had to before this got too serious, he could hurt you-

“Hey, Tomura, what’s wrong?”

You were kneeling in front of him, and the sight took the wind out of his lungs. You were gorgeous…

“I-I’m a Succubus…”

Your eyes widened, and you choked out a laugh, “Ha- w-what..?”

“It’s not a joke, I’m serious, we can’t have sex because I’m a Succubus, I could hurt you or-”

“Tomura-”

“I’m being serious!”

At that exclamation, his horns sprouted from behind his long hair, his tail waved behind him, and his wings spread out. You could even see the change in his teeth, now they looked like fangs. Your eyes widened as you fell back on your ass, landing with a small “oof”. You looked him up and down, and you sighed.

“Tomura I…. That’s… Quite amazing, if you ask me…”

He was shocked you were even still here. “What…? You don’t think I’m dangerous? I could kill you-”

“So why haven’t you?”

He was silenced at that. You… Had a point. You had been kind to him, given him multiple chances to take advantage of you, to kill you and take what he needed from you, and yet he didn’t. If anything, he had been exceptionally nice to you. He didn’t even notice how you took off your pants and underwear, before you straddled him yet again.

“So, still worried you’ll hurt me~?”

He was speechless again, “Because I can make it easy for you, if you’re still worried~”

He blinked, leaning back a bit. “... How…?”

You leaned into him, kissing him gently, making him jump. He kissed back with a push, and you giggled into it, keeping your hands on his shoulders as his tail flicked impatiently. You grind your hips against his, making him shudder into your mouth. He could feel your smirk widen at that.

Pulling back, you sat on him fully, making him whine.

“Oooh, sooo cute… Do me a favour sweetie, take off your clothes, yeah~?”

He shuddered again and let out a small “yes”, as he stripped, he could hear you rustling around near him, probably in your closet-

“Why aren’t you naked yet?”

He jumped a little, his shirt was still on, as were his boxers. “A-ah- I was distracted-”

“Well chop chop cutie, get to it~!”

Your enthusiasm made him turn an even deeper shade of red.

Quickly, he got the rest of his clothes off, now standing fully naked in front of you. He was pale, and from what his kind has told him, he’s not all that appealing. Covered in scars, his wings couldn’t carry him due to holes, he would often scratch at his skin due to the stress of everything, and with your staring it made him want to itch now-

“You’re so pretty�� Come here~”

You were sat on your bed, leaning back against your pillows. You opened your arms to him, and he whined as he crawled over your bed to you, leaning in to kiss you himself, slowly. You moaned softly against him, wrapping your arms around him. He was much warmer than you were, but you couldn’t complain.

Separating from him, you pushed him back a bit to adjust yourselves, having him lay beneath you, your pillows and your scent surrounding him. Your hands were all over his body, making him whine and moan as you groped him wherever you wanted. You were so… Gentle with him, as if you could hurt him, treating him as if he was glass. He almost yipped when you spread his ass.

“W-what’re you-”

“Colour?”

His face was bright red, his eyes wide. He’d never- “Tomura baby, I need a colour~”

… Despite his inexperience, your calm demeanour was certainly aiding him. He shuddered as you toyed with his hole, gasping as you played with him. He… He trusted you…

“Y-yellow…”

“You got it sweetie…”

You pulled away from him, grabbing a bottle of lube that was on your bedside table. Slowly, you applied lube to your hand, and to his hole. The coldness of the lube made him jump again, and you shushed him with sweet whispers as you kissed his neck, your fingers gently touching him, before ever so slowly you pushed one finger in. He shuddered a moan at the feeling, moaning more when he felt you moving in and out of him. You kept talking to him, talking him through it, and it made him feel even better.

“A-ah… Mm…. M-mooraa….”

“Hmmm….? What is it baby~?”

“M… M-more… P-please….”

You hummed, “Alright… One more, okay, baby~?”

“Y-yes- please- fuck…”

Slowly, you did as he asked and pushed another finger into him, making him cry out in pleasure, his wings fluttering beneath him as he gripped your arm that held you up. Slowly, you started fingering him more, scissoring him carefully too. You loved how he writhed beneath you, whining and begging you to keep going… It was almost like you were the demon, and you fucking loved it.

“Want another one baby~?”

“Ah-! Y-yea- p-p-please- please more-aah~”

You chuckled darkly, kissing along his jawline. “Coloooouuur~”

“Aaaaha~! Greeeen! Green green p-please plea-aaah~!”

He didn’t have to beg you much more, as you did as he asked, pushing another finger in and fucking him with your hand. You kept kissing his neck, licking and nipping at every bit of exposed skin you could get your teeth on. You moaned, whispering in his ear, “You’re so good for me baby, do you want more than just my fingers~?”

He gave a confused whine at that, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I have a toy for you baby, but I need a colour before I give it to you~”

You lifted yourself off of him, keeping your hand busy in him while reaching for your strap-on. It wasn’t too big, only about 5 inches from base to tip, but as you pulled it out and Shigaraki laid eyes on it, he couldn’t help but clench around you and whine a bit.

“A-ah- d-do you think that’ll f-fuu-fit..?”

You chuckled again, pulling your fingers out of him slowly, “Sweetie with how I’ve prepped you, I’m sure it will. Not only that, I’ll be using plenty of lube. So-”

“Green.”

He wanted to hit himself for how fucking eager he was- But all you did was smile.

“Okay baby, give me a minute~”

Putting it on carefully, you put some lube on it, gently stroking it before lining it up with him. He whined again, wiggling his hips, his tail wrapping around your waist, trying to pull you closer. You carefully pushed in, making him moan sinfully.

“I want you to relax darling, can you do that for me~?”

“Aaah-y-yeaaah~”

“Good boy~”

Ugh, when you called him that it made him weak. He did as you asked though, breathing carefully as you allowed him plenty of time to adjust. When you were all the way in, he took in a few shaky breaths, allowing himself to get used to you, he wiggled his hips slowly. Gently, you gripped his hips, helping him get some friction so he could get used to it.

“A-agh.. G-green…”

“Hm..? What was that baby~?”

“G-green… P-please m-m-move…”

You cooed at him, but didn’t tease him anymore than you had, slowly moving your hips. Your first thrust made him whimper, and the next only fuelled your need to make him cry out for you. As for Tomura, he’d never expect to be in this situation, much less with someone like you. You were well far out of his league, and yet here you were, being intimate with him more than anyone ever had been. No one he had been with had ever taken such care of him, much less fucked him like you did. Your constant thrusting made him arch his back against you, his moaning only getting higher in pitch as he begged you to let him cum.

And you did.

He had never felt more full, fed completely, and he didn’t even do anything to you. You smiled down at him, and you just looked… So happy to see him so fucked out. He was breathing heavily, looking down at himself, seeing the mess he made on his stomach, and he didn’t even touch himself.

“Feeling better, my little demon~?”

He huffed, moaning as you pulled out of him, but he nodded, “Haa… Yeah I’m… Fuck…”

You laughed, moving to the other room, before coming back with a warm wash-cloth, and you started cleaning him up.

“W-wait, you, how do you feel..? I was feeding off of you the whole time I-”

You shushed him, before kissing him deeply.

“I feel fine honey, is that not normal for you…?”

He shook his head, “No, usually if I feed off of someone they die… Since I actually like you, I’d get kinda bummed out if you died…”

You smiled, “Well, maybe that’s the difference. You like me.”

Hearing it said out loud made him blush again, “That’s good, because it’d be real awkward otherwise. I like you too sweetie~”

He blushed even more, “G-good…”

“Oh and by the way, I think your tail is super cute~”

He curled into himself, “Mhmm…”

You crawled up to him, kissing his cheek before laying beside him, pulling him down to you.

“Goodnight~”

“Wait, what about you?”

“Worry about it in the morning, unless you wanna go again~?”

He flushed again, “You’re insatiable…”

“You’re one to talk, demon~”

Tags: @slayersins @shadowsandshapes @dabislittlemouse @dabislittlebeaniebaby @the-milk-anon @shockinglysubmissive @elias-fable @starstruck-flames @daniidil @223princess

[magnus-sm-writes]

Magnus & Trans Day of Visibility

This is really scrambled; my apologies. The words are fighting me today. But I wanted to post something for Transgender Day of Visibility, and dammit, I forgot to prepare something.

I am now 22. A damn good age, if you ask me. I like repeating numbers. I am 22, and I am a man, and I didn’t think I would ever get this far. I was an incredibly sad teenager that was fueled by hatred. Of the world, of myself. I thought the world was a shit place where everything sucked.

It turns out, I was so angry for a large variety of reasons. One: I was neurodivergent and fording the world without any sort of help. Two: I was living in a homophobic place as an openly queer teenager. And three: I was transgender and had no ability to live as myself. 

Living as a trans man for 3.5 years (my tranniversary is in October, one of my favorite months) has made my life so much better. My husband has done nothing but support me in my transition and ensured that all of our friends (and his friends, as well) are using my correct pronouns even when I’m not present. I have trans friends that I love with my entire heart and soul, both online and in person. Even though I’m technically presenting as a “woman” with my work and parents, I present so masculine that pretty much everyone believes I’m a butch lesbian in denial, which—y’know what? I’m willing to accept. It’s better than presenting an aggressively girly persona that makes me miserable. (And I hope it makes coming out in a few years easier.)

What I’m trying to say is: I love being trans. I am so incredibly fortunate to have the support system that I do in my life. My family might not know (or support me when I do), but the family I have found are some of the most important people in my life. They make me the happiest I have ever been. 

My body might not be what I want. I have DDD cups. For anyone unaware, that is overly-complicated bra speak for F cups, the size of small cantaloupes, which cause me a significant amount of back pain and dysphoria. (I’m trying to, at the least, get a reduction.) I have quite wide hips, and the babiest of all baby faces. I’ve been carded in a sex shop before—multiple times��because I have the face of a young high schooler. 

But I’m working on making my body mine. My tattoos make me feel more like myself. There was this Inked video I was watching where a woman said that it didn’t feel like her artist was giving her tattoos—it felt like they were scratching away her skin to reveal what was always there. I can’t agree more. All of my tattoos feel like they were supposed to be there. I feel like myself with them. My green hair both makes me more visibly queer and happier. I mean, green hair, where I am, basically makes you a freak. 

And I am! I’m a huge freak. A creature. A critter. I am what the people call me. I embrace being a freak, a crime against nature, an inhuman monster. I’m queer, and I make my own rules about what I am. Who I am. I think that’s what I love most about being queer. Being weird and gay and manly makes me happy. It makes me feel right, and real, and good. 

What can I say? There are so few words to use to describe trans joy other than the bright feeling of sunshine on your face and the lack of weight on my chest. (Metaphorically, of course: remember the F cups.) 

Trans joy is a song, a chant, a protest. Trans joy is what I feel when I wear my ridiculous goth clothes, what I feel when my friends and I are laughing about stupid shit, what I feel when I wake up to another day with the sun on my face and bird song in the wind. There’s no better feeling than the happiness I feel every day I live as the man I’ve always been meant to be. 

[random118x]

Yandere platonic squid game

Will only upload the first chapter here and the rest will be on ao3, link is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34450882/chapters/85737661

Summary: 9 year old Hyun Joo unfortunately found out about the squid game and what’s worse is that everyone loves the little kid, wanting to protect her and make her their daughter.

Maybe she shouldn’t have picked up the phone card from the floor and let her curiosity get the best of her.

What is she supposed to do now?

Chapter one:

You would think a little kid like me wouldn’t be in this situation right now. I was currently in this office staring at the big screen, watching.

One by one, people were dropping down like flies and what I thought was innocent turned out to be deadly. These people were not unconscious but dead, blood oozing out.

I shouldn’t be here, I needed to escape before that man in the black mask would come and get me. I will need to start from the beginning on how I got into this situation.

I was currently at the train station waiting for my train to come. I needed to get home because the others was waiting for me. Let me introduce myself, I’m Hyun Joo and I am 9 years old and I live in a children’s home.

I was in there when I was 4 because both my parents sadly died in a car crash and some miracle I survived it.

Now I’m not complaining that the children’s home is a bad place, I actually get along with everyone. The downside is that no one wants to adopt me because, well I don’t have a reason. I don’t actually know.

I have friends here and this new boy called Kang Cheol is one of them and he’s from North Korea. He’s only been here for a couple of days and I learnt that he has an older sister.

I really didn’t ask for more because when he mentions about her, he gets sad.

I got up from my seat and checked time as I had 20 minutes yet so I decided to get a snack.

When I came back I saw two men playing some sort of game and all of a sudden the guy in the suit slapped the man.

I got scared and hid behind the snack machine watching.

After a few slaps, the man finally won and when the man in the suit opened the briefcase, there was money.

He gave a few notes out and this card to the man and when the man in the suit went, I noticed he dropped some money off the floor.

I could have stole that but I thought not, this could be shady stuff. I may be nearly 10 and still a kid but I wasn’t going to get my butt kicked.

I ran past the other man, picked up the money and rushed towards the man in the suit.

“Excuse me, you dropped this” I shouted.

The man stopped and turned around and gave me a smile.

“Thank you child, if I lost that my boss would have been very angry at me”.

He got his briefcase out and put the money back inside but what the stupid man didn’t realise that a little card went on the floor.

“Until next time” and with that the man in the suit walked away and I didn’t really get why he said that because I don’t think I’ll ever see him again.

I picked the card from the floor and looked at it, it had shape symbols and a number at the back.

What did this mean?

[rafescoke]

New Girl ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Just as Rafe thought his life couldn’t get any worse, a new girl moved into town. 

Warnings: Straight smut! Mentions of trauma, extreme love-hate relationship, fluff

A/N: thank you so much for 600+ followers wtf ily <33

p.s; you know the drill. . . send requests!

One thing that Rafe was sure of; he was no tour guide, or anything of the sort.

Sure, he got himself into trouble; vandalising the principal’s office and destroying school’s properties, but that was it. He didn’t try to include the part where he goes to parties to get high and wake up the next evening with a painful headache, that was more to his personal life and he believed no one in the education system could have the advantage to be mad at him for it. 

“I simply just won’t do it,” Rafe shrugged, sighing against the chair. “Look, why don’t you ask Topper to help this new kid? He’s good in class.” 

“You answered yourself, Mr. Cameron,” the counsellor sighed, placing a file on top of the table lightly. “He’s good at school work, and you’re not. That’s why we’re going with you.” 

So that was the core reason as to why Rafe was waiting impatiently for the arrival of the new student, whom he didn’t even care about to know the gender. All he wanted was to sit at the back of the school and light some joints. 

“Mr. Cameron, this is Ms. (Y/L/N).” 

Rafe took a look at her. He bit the insides of his cheeks, thinking how she didn’t even make an effort to dress properly for her first day in a new schoolz 

An oversized tee and denim shorts. Really? 

“Hi,” she smiled, extending her hands. “I’m (Y/N).” 

“Rafe,” was all he said, before handing her her timetable for the semester. 

She scanned the paper, nodding slightly and pointed at a word. When she realised how Rafe wasn’t listening, she cleared her throat. 

“What?”

“I got Biology with Mr Garcia. Where’s Room 3?” 

Rafe scooted closer next to her, and the smell of strawberry cheesecake wafted into his nostrils. He took a step back, seething. 

Who would even wear a cakey perfume? 

“Uh, that’s like, at the end of the hall?” He answered, but it was more like a question. He looked at the direction he was noting, and nodded again. “Definitely the one at the end of the hall.” 

“You really don’t care, do you?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Where’s my locker?” 

Rafe took another look at her timetable, searching for her locker number. 

372. 

He turned to look at his own locker, finding the number, and letting out an ‘oh’. “Yours just 4 lockers away from mine.” 

“Thanks.” She muttered, and Rafe sighed before fixing the left side of his bag strap dangling from his left shoulder. “Is that it? Can I go?” 

“Not so fast, Rafe,” the counsellor sighed, stopping him by his chest. “You’re supposed to stay with her for the week. Help her get around. And you’re supposed to show her around the school compound now.” 

Rafe looked up to the counsellor with a pained expression and then back to (Y/N), his chest heavy. “Fine. Let’s go. What do you call yourself again?” 

Right before lunch, Rafe stayed over in his class for a few minutes before going out to the hall. He didn’t want to see the new girl, and he didn’t feel like being her assistant anymore. 

But the world wasn’t that fair. 

(Y/N) grinned, walking towards him. “Can you show me the cafeteria?”

“How do you even know my class?” He muttered, keeping a distance between them. The last thing he ever wanted was to let the news of him being with the new girls circulating around the school, or worse, the whole island. 

“My class is directly in front of yours. We parted just now.” 

Of course she would remember that. 

. . . 

A week went by quickly, and before Rafe would know it, he didn’t see (Y/N) anymore, and he was content with it. 

Until her family decided to become neighbours with his. 

“What do you mean the (Y/L/N) bought the house next to us?” He groaned, watching as Rose and Ward prepared to greet themselves to the new family.

The last thing he wanted was to show her around the fucking island like he was some kind of a hotel worker. 

She was in a yellow sundress, and Rafe couldn’t help but notice the way her (H/C) glowed under the sunlight. She looked similar to her mother, both bringing pastries as a way to introduce themselves. 

“Hi, we just moved next door,” Mrs (Y/L/N) said, showing the Camerons her pearly white teeth. Rafe wondered if she ever got them done, because it’s not possible for a human to have such white assets. 

“Hi, welcome to Obx,” Ward gushed, accepting the pastries happily. “Rafe, take the other cake.” 

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of his name, and to Rafe’s amusement, began gritting her teeth. He took the cake with a smirk, happy that he got her all worked up. 

He would definitely have the best time of his life taunting the shit out of this girl. 

. . .

“Hey, wanna ride a boat?” 

“Topper, leave her alone,” Rafe sighed, fixing his cap so it was facing backwards. “She’s not interested.” 

(Y/N) perked up at this invitation, never actually riding a boat alone if it wasn’t during a holiday since she was originally from the city. She walked towards her neighbour’s deck, her skin illuminating the golden sunrays. 

“Sure.” 

Rafe mentally groaned, having to deal with the girl now, but he wasn’t sure if he was angry or jealous. It wasn’t him to be jealous easily, but after a week of becoming her tour guide, he guessed he deserves some kind of a credit from her. Topper didn’t do anything, but she was gladly accepting his invitation. 

Their usual stroll along the stream of the island was not like usual, since the air was now filled with the annoying chatter between (Y/N) and Topper. Rafe could never relate with them, only wanting to relax his mind and sleep it off. 

“So you’re a city girl? That’s great!” 

“Sure Tops,” Rafe wondered, smiling delightly. Anything to get into a girl’s pants. . . 

“You know what, (Y/N)?” He called from the place he was resting, and he waited a few seconds before continuing his speech. “If you’re looking for a boyfriend, Topper’s not the guy. He hasn’t moved on from his ex-girlfriend.” 

Sure, he would get a lot of shit from Topper for saying that, but he was done with the pointless flirting between them. 

“What about you?” 

Rafe opened his eyes, watching her from behind his sunglasses. He shifted his position, “What about me?” 

“Have you moved on from your ex-girlfriend?” 

Has he moved on from Kie? He wasn’t entirely sure. Their relationship was brief, but she was all Rafe had. When she decided to go all full-pogue, he knew there was nothing left of them. 

“I don’t date.” 

“I can see why,” she said, and Rafe swore he heard some kind of mirth behind her tone. 

“Have you?” 

“Moved on from an ex?” 

Rafe nodded, opening his eyes slightly. 

“I guess.” 

“Good for him.” 

“Excuse me?” She gasped, pushing him lightly. “You’re an asshole.” 

She leaned closer onto him, and for a second Rafe thought about letting her in his bubble, but he quickly shoved her away. “Watch it.” 

“I’m just trying to tell you about that fucking fly on your face.” 

“Yeah? Liar.” 

(Y/N) huffed, stomping back to Topper, and Rafe laughed silently. 

1-0.

. . .

Fuck. 

If he would’ve known about the police raid in Topper’s party, he wouldn’t have come to his house at all. But here he was; all pushed up against the metal chair of the police station, his hair messy and his eyes bloodshot. 

“We’re taking a urine test, son,” Shoupe said, sighing. “There’s always something wrong with you.”

Rafe thought about (Y/N) suddenly, and how she was probably back home and watching some kind of a rom-com. That’s totally her; all cuddled up with a pink teddy bear probably named ‘Bear-bear’, constantly wiping the tears off her face over the sad breakup scene of a movie. 

Rafe was forced to strip out of his shirt and jeans before entering the small cubicle, and having to go through this same procedure for quite a few times now, he didn’t mind giving a show to the workers. 

He quickly zipped his jeans bag, handing a female worker a cup filled to the end with his urine. He yawned, already knowing the results, so there was no use being nervous about it. 

He was picked up by an angry Ward an hour later. He groaned, getting in the car to prepare himself for the same lecture about his future and how he shouldn’t jeopardise it, but he was shocked when Ward didn’t utter a word at all. 

It was very uncomfortable, but he guessed he was just tired. 

“Good morning.” 

Rafe rubbed his eyes against the bright sunlight, feeling the pain from his head slowly soaring throughout his body. He squinted his eyes at the figure in front of him again, trying to blink the blurriness away. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Your mom told me to call for you,” (Y/N) said, looking away from him. Rafe looked down to his body, seeing his shirtless self, and laughed.

Of fucking course she would be uncomfortable with him being shirtless. 

“She’s not my mom,” he grunted, removing the covers off of him and checking his phone for the time. 

12.43p.m. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, and his eyes turned to her again. “What are you doing here again? Leave.” 

“Waiting for you.” 

“I’ll be downstairs in a few seconds,” he muttered. He didn’t need her to be some kind of maid for him. 

(Y/N) muttered some curse word, hoping that riled him up, but she would be stupid if she thought a random curse word would make him Rafe Cameron angry.

It would take a lot more to raise an expression from Rafe Cameron, and a curse word definitely wouldn’t. 

. . . 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

His boat was not working, but he had just filled her up the night before. This was the newest model too, and he couldn’t afford asking Ward to fix his boat again. Not when he was caught with being on drugs from his urine test last week, and the only reason he got out of the trouble was because of Ward again. 

“Is it not working, Rafey?” 

Rafe looked up to the sound. (Y/N) was watching him with a sly grin, shielding her eyes with her hands from the sun like she was some goddamn queen that would melt from the heat. 

“What did you do to my boat?” He groaned, trying to turn the ignition again. 

“What did I do? Come on, why do you always think so bad of me? That’s kinda ru—”

Before she could continue her taunt, Rafe climbed the deck, inching closer towards her and smeling that goddamn cake smell again. 

Hell, he’ll buy her a new perfume to stop breathing in that fucking smell. 

“That’s kinda what?” He whispered. He was so close to her now, and he could hear her breath hitching. He smirked, his heart soaring. 

“You’re kinda dumb for a kook, Rafe,” she sighed. She dangled a familiar key in front of him, and when Rafe took a closer look, he noticed it was the key to his boat. 

She threw the key into the water and Rafe watched it plopped, moving straight towards the deep end. His eyes flared at her again, his chest heaving. 

“Hope you have a spare key.” 

1-1. 

. . .

That should be good, he guessed, for being in a tie with (Y/N). But he doesn’t like someone being in the same league as him, so it must be 2-1. 

And the 2 from him. 

But that was for another day, because Kiara Carrera was in front of him. He fixed his cap so it was facing backwards again, and then putting his hands into his pockets for good measure. 

“Hey,” he greeted her. She smiled at him grimly before looking back at the menu, clearly uninterested. “How’re you?” 

“I’m. . . great,” she breathed. “Why?” 

“Just asking,” he shrugged, “Do you wanna go out for some drinks sometimes? Like the old times?” 

Rafe curled his toes, waiting nervously. 

“Um, I have to check with my parents first,” she replied. “But, Rafe, you know, it’s been. . . a year.” 

“Of course,” he laughed, trying to hide the sudden emotion inside him. “I meant hanging out as a friend.” 

“Of course!” She suddenly exclaimed, “If you would bring (Y/N) with us.” 

“Oh, I don’t-”

“You don’t?” 

“I- fine. I’ll bring her with me. Is tomorrow okay?” He sighed, already foreseeing the future. 

And it’s full of shit. 

“Tomorrow.” 

. . .

“Wow, I am not going to third wheel you and someone, Rafe,” (Y/N) laughed, resting her back against her chair. 

“Please,” Rafe begged, sighing. He didn’t know how much begging he could do anymore, not when he had so many things to do. He took a deep breath again, “I’ll do anything for you back.” 

“Including hooking me up with JJ?” 

“Yes- no. No. What the fuck? Where did you even know this guy?” He expressed, his eyebrows furrowing. He was not going to let her a pull a Kie, though they weren’t dating. 

“He helps mower the lawn.” 

Of course. JJ Maybank would never pass the chance to get some money while checking out girls. 

“I’m not helping you to get together with JJ,” he sighed. “Can we go for a better option? Like Landon? He’s rich.” 

“I’m richer,” she yawned. “Okay. Fine. Topper.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “Not going to happen.” 

If she ever thought about him allowing her to date his best friend, she has to be a lot smarter than that. 

He didn’t know why he wouldn’t allow it. Maybe he was scared of Topper hurting her. 

Or maybe he just couldn’t imagine her with someone else.

“Then we have no deal,” she replied simply, gazing at her newly painted nails. She gazed at Rafe who seemed to be thinking hard from the top of her sunglasses. 

He groaned. “Fine. I’ll help you with Topper. But I’m warning you; he. Has. Not. Moved. On.” 

“Oh, he will.”

. . .

Kie was all up on Rafe.

He didn’t know what had gotten into her, because she was never this. . . strong-willed. 

Kie had her hands placed against Rafe’s chest, kissing him tenderly and sometimes running her fingers through his hair. 

Rafe sucked in a breath, watching as she part. Her mouth formed into a grin, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin back. 

“Wanna do it?” 

Did he? Of course he wanted to “do it”. He had been wanting to do so since forever. He would be crazy to say no to that invitation, and he was definitely sane. 

He looked at (Y/N), who was awkwardly perched up on the sofa, tucking her legs under her and watching some kind of a movie on her phone. Her eyes looked up to Rafe, and she quickly looked away. 

“In one of the rooms?” 

Kie seemed to look around the boat for a while, like he was looking for someone, but there were only two of them. And (Y/N). 

“Fine,” she huffed, and pulled him towards one of the rooms by his wrist. 

Kie pushed him onto the bed, and Rafe wondered how she got this side of her. Throughout their 6 months of dating, she never showed him this, so this was a bit of a shock to him. 

“Hey, hey,” Rafe gripped her wrists, holding her still. “We don’t have to rush.” 

“I want to,” she said, and leaned closer. “I thought you wanted this?” 

They began making out, his hand slipping down her back to grab her ass, only to be met with her vibrating phone in her back pocket. 

“I’ll get it,” he mumbled against the kiss, and pulled her phone out.

A picture of JJ Maybank’s smiling face right next to Kie greeted him, and his name was perched on top of the screen, signalling his call. 

Of course. She never wanted to fuck him. It was always to make someone jealous. That explained the gritted teeth Kie would make when he mentioned JJ earlier. 

He sighed, pushing her away so she ended up by his side. “I gotta go.” 

“Huh?” Kie sat up straight, looking from Rafe to her phone. She saw the caller, cleared her throat, and held up a finger to tell him to wait. 

He should’ve known. 

. . . 

Rafe never liked the annual Obx’s drive-in movie theatre, because he really didn’t get the hype of watching a mainstream movie that he had watched with Wheezie a lot of times before in his car. 

This year, it was way worse; they decided to have some kind of a horror themed drive-in movie theatre, and the best part of all; (Y/N) was going with Topper. 

Rafe groaned for the thousandth time at the rapping of a clown against his car window. He gave the clown his middle finger, telling him ‘watch it, you’re scratching my car’, and moving his attention back to the screen. 

Annabelle had disappeared from the room the two nurses had placed her in, and the volume quietened before booming again when the doll had appeared in the living room, perching on top of the sofa. 

He rolled his eyes, and took a look at (Y/N) and his best friend laying in the back part of his jeep from the rearview window. 

They were cuddling. 

“Fuck off,” he grunted, throwing his hands into the air. A human-sized Annabelle pulled on the shotgun’s door now, and Rafe gave the actor another middle finger before yelling a ‘fuck you’.

“This is ridiculous,” he said to no one in particular. He stepped out of the vehicle, knowing damn well he would be the target of the ghosts now, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was to step away from all of this and maybe refill his soda. 

He made his way to the back of the lot, getting his money out beforehand. Some type of a wannabe Michael Myers came up, to which he quickly put a hand up to stop him. 

“Don’t. I’m not in the mood.”

Michael Myers seemed to get him, because he left to scare someone else. 

“Refill,” he sighed, giving the worker his cup. “Coke.” 

“You mean like literal coke?” 

Rafe looked behind him, surprised to see a red-faced (Y/N) holding a popcorn bucket. He licked his teeth. “Why? Have you tried it before?” 

(Y/N) went up beside him, muttering about putting more caramel in her popcorn to the worker before looking at him. “You seem mad.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

“That’s because you’re all up in my business,” he scoffed. He turned to look at his coke, but the worker was still filling the cup up. 

Good. Did the machine break or something? 

“Where’s the girlfriend?” She asked. She was clearly amused by his sudden tightness, but he quickly softened, as to not rile her up. 

“Where’s the fuckbud- I mean boyfriend? Sorry. It just slipped.” 

(Y/N) nodded, her mouth forming into a grin. “If you’re jealous, you can just say that.” 

“Wait, wait, of what, exactly?” 

She shrugged. 

“Yeah, exactly. No. For all I care, you guys can get married and move to fucking Antartica and have mini (Y/N)s and Christophers running around.” 

The worker placed the newly refilled coke and caramelised popcorn on the counter, and Rafe wondered why she would receive her food at the same time as his when had come here first.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the drink and walking back towards the car. 

(Y/N) jogged to catch up with him, her popcorn bouncing against her chest. “You’re rude, do you know that?” 

“Jesus Christ, we’re still on this?” He mumbled. He was still walking, but he wanted her to catch up so he slowed down. He guessed it would be the perfect ending to his night to taunt her until she’s all worked up. 

“I just can’t think of a reason why you’re acting so fucking rude to me.” 

“Yeah? Think again.” Rafe sipped on his coke, feeling the carbonated drink sloshing down his throat. He felt content, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the coke or from the girl beside him. 

“This is—”

A nurse with a bloody front suddenly appeared before them, using some kind of a spray to maximise the size of the fire from a lighter. (Y/N) screamed, turning away from the heat, and Rafe quickly caught her before she could end up on the floor. 

“Fuck, fucking move,” he yelled to the nurse, who seemed to be satisfied with her work. Rafe turned to (Y/N), trying to check on her state. 

“Yo, yo, you good? Why are you shaking?” 

She was trembling really hard against him. She had her arms around Rafe’s neck, her popcorn splattered on the ground. She jolted when a scream came from the speaker. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the car,” he mumbled, helping her walk. She kept her face hidden in the crook of his neck, and Rafe had to try his best to balance both of the girl and the Coke in his hands back to the vehicle.

Topper was no longer in the back seat, perhaps looking for Sarah (Rafe wasn’t a bit surprised at this). He was glad his best friend wasn’t there, because the last thinf he needed was two people freaking out on him. 

“Okay, chill, I got you,” Rafe grunted, placing the Coke in the cup holder before seating the girl beside the driver’s seat. He sighed before climbing into the driver’s seat and locked the door in case some kind of a crazy maniac tried to freak her out again. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She didn’t answer, not that Rafe expected her to. She looked like she was reminded by some kind of memory, but Rafe didn’t want to dwell so much on it. 

If he could, he would reverse his car out of this lot back to their homes, but he was one of the first cars to arrive at the drive-in theatre, so it was impossible to get out. 

He sighed, placing his hands against his lap. “You can tell me, you know.” 

She finally looked up to him, and Rafe’s breath hitched from the sight of her red eyes. He softened. 

Whatever it was with that fire, it had triggered some kind of a memory in her. 

He placed a hand against her lap, but not moving so; just a splat of his hand against her soft skin. He had meant for that as comfort, but he realised how creepy the situation was. He pulled away, clearing his throat. 

So they stayed until the end of the movie, just the two of them, and Rafe was sure she wasn’t even watching the remaining parts of the movie. He pretended to watch, but he was really just staring at her the whole time. 

Will she ever let her hair down like this again? Because he liked it. 

When the movie ended and the cars were starting to move, Rafe slowly reversed the car so as to not shake her awake. But she was a light sleeper, and she woke up as soon as he hit the brakes. 

She rubbed her eyes, “Where are we going?” 

“Home,” he answered. “You’re okay?” 

She didn’t answer, and Rafe knew she wasn’t.

. . .

Two weeks after the incident, they never spoke of it again. 

Rafe tried to get an answer out, but to no avail. He didn’t get why he was trying his best to help her, because he, too, needed help. 

“Nah. I won’t invite her. If you want (Y/N) to come, then you’ll have to invite her yourself.” 

Wheezie’s shoulders slumped, “But you’re close to her!”

“I’m not, and she hates my guts,” Rafe replied honestly. Because that was the truth, right? She didn’t even want to tell him about why she was so scared of fire. 

“Invite me to what?” 

“(Y/N)!” Wheezie ran to hug her, to which (Y/N) laughed before patting her on the crown of her head. “Tell her, Rafe!” 

Is she fucking serious? 

“Tell me what?” (Y/N) looked up to Rafe strangely. 

“Wheezie wants to have a movie night, and she wants you to watch with us.” Rafe sighed, hating how he couldn’t just ignore Wheezie. She was definitely Rafe’s favourite, being so close to her brother ever since she was born. 

“Oh, is that true?” She smiled, looking at Wheezie. “Should I come and wear my best pajamas?” 

“You’re not sleeping over, your house is literally 5 minutes away. 2 if you run.” Rafe rolled his eyes. He went up to the counter to pick up a sandwich before biting into it, tasting the creamy eggs and ham. He licked his lips. 

“She can sleep with Sarah, right, (Y/N)?” 

“If she wants me too. . .” 

Rafe rolled his eyes again, “Sarah won’t be with us for tonight’s movie night. She’s starting to hang out with the pogues.” 

“Why are you so against the pogues?” (Y/N) asked, when Wheezie left to write a reminder of tonight’s event in her diary. 

“Why can’t you just shut your mouth?” He sighed. “It’s all bla bla bla bla. Can’t you see you’ll be happier without having to open your mouth every few seconds?” 

(Y/N) bit her lips, and for a second, Rafe had to look away from the look she was giving him. 

Shit. Why was he even looking away? 

She turned to go away, but was halted by Rafe’s fingers around her wrist. She groaned, turning her attention back to him. “What?” 

“You still haven’t told me about the night of the drive-in theatre.” 

“Good,” was all she said, before she went back by the sliding door to her home. 

. . .

“Rafe would be mad if he saw me watching this.” 

“It’s rom-com! And it’s totally PG-13. Trust me on this, okay? Anne Hathaway, yeah, that girl, yes, she’s going to get prettier throughout the movie.” (Y/N) smiled, popping popcorn into her mouth. 

Wheezie sighed, placing her head against (Y/N)’s shoulders and yawned. “Like what? Princess Diaries?” 

“Yes, but this is The Devil Wears Prada. You’ll love it!” 

A beam of light filled the mini movie theatre of The Camerons, signalling the late arrival of Rafe Cameron. He brought two chocolate bars, a Coke (again) and some chicken nuggets. 

“Move,” he said, motioning to Wheezie. 

“There are more seats around here!” Wheezie hissed, crossing her arms. “I’m not leaving (Y/N).” 

“You’re not leaving her, silly, you’re just scooting more to the right.” 

“What’s in it for me?” She raised a brow. 

“Nuggets?” 

She scooted to the side, giving more space for Rafe to place himself beside an annoyed (Y/N). 

Out of all 7 medium-sized sofas in the theatre, he decided to pick the one the two girls were sitting on. 

Rafe handed Wheezie the plate full of chicken nuggets, looking at (Y/N) before watching the screen. He groaned, “What’s this? Trash?” 

“A masterpiece, so shut up,” (Y/N) replied. Rafe huffed, amused, and unwrapped the chocolate bar. 

“Want some?” 

“No.” 

“Come on,” he cooed, placing the chocolate before her eyes. She grunted, pushing his hands away. 

Rafe took that as his final warning. He didn’t want to annoy her even more, knowing that she will probably not talk to him anymore. He decided to wait until half an hour later, just to taunt her again. 

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” Wheezie suddenly said after an hour into the movie. She excused herself to the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone. 

(Y/N) sighed. Great, just like how she wanted. 

“What do you want from me?” Anne Hathaway’s voice blared from the speaker, and Rafe looked at (Y/N). 

“What do you want from me?” He asked, repeating the dialogue. (Y/N) watched him from the corners of her eyes, not getting any delight from this. 

“For you to shut up.” 

“Really? That’s boring,” he sighed. “Do you want to know what I want from you?” 

“Sure.” 

“I’m thinking of a few things. Maybe you, on my lap.” 

(Y/N)’s breath hitched, but she tried her best not to look disturb. She shifted in her seating position. 

Rafe leaned closer, feeling her heat. “Your turn.” 

You know what? Fuck it.

(Y/N) turned to look at him fully in his face, leaning even closer that a part of her was practically on top of him. “Do you know what I think of you, Rafe?” 

His eyes dropped to her lips, and he swore his heartbeat quit beating. 

“I think about you, Rafe,” she whispered. “All pressed up against me in my bed, whim-”

“More popcorn!” 

(Y/N) returned to her previous position, bewildered. She fixed her hair, and her eyes were back to the screen. 

If Wheezie were to hang out with a pogue right now, Rafe wouldn’t give a fuck. 

“Well, the ending’s shitty,” Rafe exclaimed, clapping his hands. He watched as the end credits rolled, and took a look at Wheezie. 

He nudged her, sighing. “Wake up, Wheeze. Go to your room.” 

She groaned, searching for her fallen glasses. Rafe helped her to put them on, and gave her another poke. 

“I want to watch the movie.”

“The movie’s finished. It’s time to sleep. Go.” 

Wheezie groaned, muttering how it’s not fair that her brother could stay up with (Y/N) to watch more movies, but she guessed she was too tired for another round of movie anyways. 

“What’s the next pick?” 

“Horror.” 

“Nah.” 

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re going to freak out on me again.” 

“I won’t,” she assured him. “Let’s go with Hereditary.” 

Rafe’s fingers and (Y/N)’s were almost touching. He was still bothered by her comment before Wheezie came barging in, and he was still desperate to hear her reply. 

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?” 

“What were you trying to say?”

(Y/N) stopped watching, and looked at him. “What?” 

“About you thinking of me.” 

She blushed. “Nah.” 

“Come on,” he nudged. When she didn’t move, he tried placing his hand against her thigh. 

(Y/N) stood up suddenly, and for a second, Rafe thought he had fucked up. He watched as she went to the door, locked it, and went back to their place. 

“You locked the door.” 

“Yeah.” 

Rafe licked his lips, smirking slightly. “Ah, I see the game you’re playing.” 

“What game?” She raised a brow, only turning to the screen when a scream blared from the speaker.

“Hey, look at me.” Rafe tugged on her chin, forcing her to look at him, and his eyes actually looked into hers. He noticed the (E/C) colour of her eyes now, and he swore he had never looked at something more appealing. “Tell me.” 

She stayed quiet, not moving a muscle. 

Rafe sighed, getting impatient. He leaned closer now, this time his lips merely an inch away from her cheeks. He could feel the heat radiating from her. 

“Tell me, baby.” 

“You getting all close to me isn’t helping, Cameron,” she sighed, laying her head against the sofa. 

“Still playing hard to get?” 

“I’m not playing anything.” 

Rafe slowly placed a kiss against her temple before trailing down to her cheeks. She sucked in a breath, and Rafe smiled. 

“Still playing?” 

She nodded. 

Rafe’s lips touched hers by a bit, and she let out a moan she had been trying her very best to contain. Rafe chuckled, pulling away. 

“Still playing?”

“Shut up.” 

“That’s a yes? Or a no?”

“That’s a fuck you.” 

“Oh,” Rafe smiled. “Thought you never asked.” 

His kiss was gentle. So soft, and (Y/N) had never felt something like that before. The kiss deepened when she let out a soft moan, riling Rafe even more. 

He pulled her up onto his chest, letting her hands rest against his chest before pulling her away. Her lips were red, and there was a string of their saliva hanging from both of their lips. 

“What do you want, (Y/N)?” 

“You.” 

“Huh?” 

“You.” 

He smiled, tugging on her shirt. “Off.” 

She wasted no time to remove her shirt, exposing her new black bra she ordered online a few days before. Rafe sat back, his eyes dark. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

He kissed her neck, trailing down to her collar bones before stopping directly on her chest. His fingers fiddled with the bra clip, being so used with this already, and removed the piece of clothing with ease. 

(Y/N) instinctively covered her chest, her chest heaving. 

Rafe looked up to her, his eyes softening. “What’s wrong?” 

“Am not comfortable.” 

“Oh, that’s alright, we don’t have to do—”

“No, Rafe, I want this. I just don’t think I’m perfect enough for you.” 

Rafe let out a breath, placing a soft kiss against her stomach. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back. He guided her hands away, exposing her perky breast to the entire theatre to see. 

Rafe was glad he was the only guy present. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” 

“Shut up.” 

He looked up into her eyes, wetting his lips. “I’ll do anything to fuck you right now.” 

(Y/N) grinded against him, causing a groan to escape from his throat. He held her waist in place, not wanting to trigger his release. 

“Do it,” she whispered. 

The movie became a background noise as he fumbled with her shorts, grunting when he couldn’t figure out the knot. 

He positioned himself before her, and looked up into her eyes again. Her chest was heaving, and she looked nervous. 

“You’re okay?”

“I’m a virgin.” 

Oh fuck. 

Why would she even say that? He couldn’t even contain himself anymore. 

He pushed himself into her, letting her get used to the feeling. He waited for her nod, signaling that she was okay and hadn’t changed her mind, and thrusted into her again. 

His hands stayed around her waist to guide her, watching as her mouth slightly parted as he deepened inside her. She bit her lips, her nails clawing onto his shoulders. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling his own forehead clammy. He didn’t notice her hands that had left his shoulder. She cupped his face, placing wet kisses against his cheeks. 

“You’re so good for me, baby,” he whimpered, allowing her hands to guide his. She placed them around her breast as she rode him, and Rafe had never felt better. 

If he has to taunt and annoy her more to get into this level again, he’ll do it again. Without any hesitation.

“I’m so close, baby, fuck,” he groaned. He gave her another longing kiss, looking down to where their bodies connect, and moaned loudly. 

Just before he reached his end, he pulled her away, not wanting to plant himself into her. (Y/N) tried to wrap her fingers around his penis to which Rafe jerked at for  being so sensitive. He pulled her hands away, his chest heaving. 

“Don’t,” he grunted. His load shot out of his member, wetting the sofa underneath them, and Rafe quickly slapped his shaft against her core to get her to reach her end. 

“Rafe, I-”

“Let it,” he whispered, watching as she tilted her head back, exposing her neck. “Let go, baby.” 

She trembled slightly, finally reaching her high, and collapsed on top of the heaving boy. Rafe stroked her hair, pulling her into a lying position, and planted another soft kiss against the back of her head. 

“The movie’s still on.” 

“Watch the next part, it’s amazing,” Rafe whispered, still holding her close. They were both naked, still coming down from their highs, but Rafe had never felt better. 

(Y/N) turned to look at him. “You’re still an asshole.” 

He placed a soft kiss against her lips. “Your asshole.” 

-

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia

[jadepearl]

“You’re their brother”

Viktor scoffed. “I’m either a nuisance, attention whore, or time bomb. Guess which one they see me as most of the time”

“You’re their brother.” Y/N repeats. “They wouldn’t just leave you.”

“They have before, and they did.” Viktor shrugged. “You know, sometimes I wish they never told me about Leo- Harold. I was stupid and blind, but it felt like happiness- I know it wasn’t, but it felt like it.”

“You can’t possibly wish they never told you. Harold Jenkins was a terrible man, one who took advantage of you.”

“He wasn’t the first to take advantage of me, wasn’t the last either. In fact,” Viktor huffs, shoving his hands into his pockets, a frown on his face. “In fact, I can guarantee that he won’t be the last. I am, after all, a ticking time bomb. Someone will come along, and I’ll be in that mindset again- small, scared, lonely number seven- and it’ll be so easy for them.”

“Viktor,” Y/N says, trying to keep the fear out of their voice, “Viktor, you don’t mean that. And you aren’t that, any of that. You haven’t been like that for-

“6 months.” Viktor interrupts, face twisting into a grimace. “ I haven’t been like that for 6 months- and yes, I do mean that. I don’t have Sissy. Allison killed Harlan. My family left me, again. Though, I suppose they’ve always had the uncanny ability to put me aside.”

Viktor smiles then, a sad wobbly thing. “If Harold- Leonard, I knew him as Leonard. If he came up to me, I think I’d let him take me. I don’t have anyone left, no one stayed behind, no one’s checked up on me or answered my phone calls in months. So, if Leonard was to walk up to me and act the way he did in the beginning- I’d go with him.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Viktor says, eyes glowing white. “Better the devil you know than the one you don’t.”

“And?”

“You think there’s another reason?”

Y/N frowns. “I know there is. I know you.

Viktor shrugs again, pulls a hand out of his pocket and pushes his hair back. He sighs.

“He’ll take me away from them.” Viktor finally answers, sighing. “I don’t want to see them right now, don’t want to talk to them. I don’t know when I’ll want to see them, but I know that Leonard will be able to keep me away from them, to separate me from them. He did that in the original timeline- did it quite well. He can do it again.”

Viktor’s tone shifts into bitterness. “I remember now, how Luther’s arms felt when he was crushing me- him I’ve forgiven. How they seem to understand each other , but could not understand that I had not had powers for 25 years. And that I had not fully felt my emotions for 25 fucking years. Dad may have treated me as a bomb before I was one, but at least he didn’t attempt to sugarcoat his actions.“

“You’re angry with them.”

“Are you a therapist now?” Viktor asks sarcastically, “Because I’ve had one before and the result was a “very ballsy” book.”

“I won’t tell.” Y/N says, “if he does come and you go with him, I won’t tell them. But you’ll have to come back, you know that. They’ll look for you. ”

“Will it be because they care or because as of recently our powers have returned and they don’t want a time bomb on the loose?”

“….”

“Shit,” Viktor curses, turning to Y/N. “I almost forgot, I wanted you to do something for me, in case you see them.”

“And that would be?”

“If I so much as hear a peep out of Allison, I’ll do to her what she did to me. I’ll take her child away from the way she took mine from me. Tell them I don’t want to see them.”

“So..” Y/n’s frown deepens. “It’s official, you’re going to Harold Jenkins?”

Viktor nods. “No Sissy. No Harlan. No family. No violin. No job at the Icarus Theatre. Might as well return to what’s familiar. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him when I’m ready to come back.”

[seita]

— reacting to your death.

includes: oikawa, iwaizumi, matsukawa, hanamaki, + kyoutani.

+ this is childhood friend!reader.

tw: major character death, grieving, blood and violence mention.

p a r t o n e ;;

⤿ part two: next (coming soon!)

-ˋˏ seijoh ˎˊ-

— tooru oikawa.

to tooru, the best course of action is to ignore it.

ignore the hurt, ignore the pain.

ignore the news completely.

in his mind, you’re just on vacation. or maybe you’re mad at him and ignoring him. you’ll come back.

he makes up scenarios and reasons in his head for why you’re not around. iwaizumi is angry, always yelling at him for being an idiot when he brings you up. but he doesn’t understand why.

he won’t talk about it. he doesn’t even acknowledge you’re gone until the funeral.

+

his hands are clasped in front of himself. the suit is uncomfortable and he doesn’t want to approach the casket. iwaizumi stands beside him, a sharp scowl plastered on his face.

“are you finally ready to face it?” he asks, keeping his voice quiet so the grieving people around them aren’t disturbed.

oikawa huffs out a laugh but it’s shaky -- watery. he’s trying so hard not to cry that it’s making his throat close up painfully. iwaizumi relaxes beside him with a sigh, his shoulders sagging before placing his hand on the taller’s shoulder.

“she wouldn’t want you to ignore it, shittykawa,” oikawa wants to laugh at his friend using that name even in the current situation.

typical iwaizumi.

always a pillar. always trying to be the strong one.

suddenly, oikawa finds himself wondering what your place in their little dynamic was. it feels like he can’t even remember you properly. it’d only been a few days since they lost you and it already feels like he’s...

“i don’t want to forget her,” oikawa suddenly chokes out, unable to stop his tears from falling finally.

“well then don’t dumbass,” iwaizumi’s voice was breaking, choked as he cried but oikawa didn’t want to look because he didn’t want to see his other friend falling apart as well.

— hajime iwaizumi.

he does not have good coping methods. his first and most immediately reaction is denial. he doesn’t want to believe what he’s hearing, so he just...doesn’t.

he assumes everyone is lying to him. there’s no way he could lose you. you’d been his friend since you were children; it’d always been you, iwa, and oikawa. so how could you possibly just be...gone?

the answer? you couldn’t.

that’s what he chose to believe, anyway.

+

“what are you talking about, shittykawa?” he snaps, refusing to pull his nose from his notes, “i think this has to be your worst joke yet.”

“it’s not a joke,” oikawa sighs, shuffling on his feet as he sniffles. if iwa chanced a look up at him, he’d see his friend had been crying for hours. but he wouldn’t look. because he didn’t want to see it, “her mom tried calling you...couldn’t get a hold of you. so i thought i’d...”

iwa slammed his notebook down, glaring straight ahead, “i told you to stop playing these stupid fucking jokes on me. it’s not funny.”

“iwa-”

“get the fuck out,” iwa jumped to his feet, grabbing the other brunette by the shirt.

the fabric creaked as it stretched. but oikawa didn’t put up a fight, letting iwaizumi toss him out of his bedroom door. he hit the floor with a thud before wincing at the deafening slam of the bedroom door.

iwaizumi sit back down, pulling up your text message. he had never answered your text asking if he would be alright studying on his own today. he had meant to answer but just forgot. his thumbs moved across the keyboard, eyes blurring with tears as he typed.

“come over. we can hang out together, okay?”

— issei matsukawa.

he was the first to admit that he wasn’t the best friend to have. he was sort of ghosty and a bit unreliable. he doesn’t mean to be. you knew that. he knew you did.

so there’s no way you would be upset with him, right? not for what he did.

he lets his own guilt eat him alive. even if everyone on earth told him it wasn’t hit fault -- he still puts every ounce of blame upon himself.

he lets it eat him alive. he thinks he deserves it.

because he let you down.

+

he stared at his phone. sometimes he could clearly see what he was looking at and other times it felt like he blacked out.

it was your text thread.

it wasn’t unusual for him to ghost you. he was never very talkative. you liked to tease him about it from time to time.

still, looking back, he could have at least responded this one time.

he doesn’t even remember what he was doing. probably nothing as important as it felt at the time.

“can you come pick me up?” it was a simple question. he hadn’t even bothered to ask where you were. if he had, he would have known you were only 10 minutes by car. it would have taken no time at all to stop what he was doing and go get you.

he wonders how long you had stared at his read receipt, wondering if he was going to come. he’ll never know.

he’ll never know the answer to why you were out so late. why you needed him to pick you up. how you felt in your last moments. he wondered if you thought of him then. if you blamed him. if you were sad or hurt by his ignoring you.

why didn’t he just go get you? why didn’t he answer you?

if he had, you would still be safe.

he wishes he could talk to you again. tell you that he was sorry. he didn’t know how important it was. he didn’t know you were scared -- that you weren’t safe.

he wanted to apologize, tell you that whatever stupid shit he was doing was nowhere near as important as you were.

he wanted to know if you had thought about him in your last moments -- the one person you had reached out to for help.

only for him to fail you.

he just wishes you knew that he didn’t mean to let you die.

— takahiro hanamaki.

it’s gotta be a joke, right?

ha-ha really funny. come out now.

when you don’t he’s confused. this really isn’t funny.

you can’t be gone. you can’t. because he needs you.

who else is going to help him during exams. or laugh at his terrible jokes. or make him feel better when he has his heart broken. what about when he’s sick? who will make him that amazing soup that always has him better in a day?

he refuses to let you go. he can’t be without you. it’s just not realistic.

so just...come out of wherever you’re hiding now, okay?

+

he tries to force the smile to remain in place as he stares at the unfamiliar faces in front of him.

“what um...what do you mean?” he laughs nervously, placing his hand to rub nervously on the back of his neck.

they repeat the news. it goes in one ear and out the other. he laughs, ignoring the confused look on their faces.

he takes a few steps back, shaking his head.

“that’s a...real funny joke. i’m just gonna...” he feels tears stinging at his eyes but he doesn’t know why. it’s obviously just a joke. he doesn’t want to be that dork who cries over a practical joke, “go call her now.”

they don’t try to call him back, pity on their faces as he slumps away, phone in hand as he dials your number. he’s pretty sure he’s far enough away when he starts crying at the sound of your voicemail.

— kentarou kyotani.

kyoutani copes violently. if there is one thing he doesn’t like, it’s change. and there’s no bigger change than losing someone you’ve known your entire life.

he didn’t have many friends -- really you were the only one he was comfortable actually giving that title. so without you, he had no one. he refused to let you go.

anger builds and builds.

and without you there to mellow him out like you usually do...it explodes.

+

there’s a fist sized dent in the wall. or maybe 4.  his knuckles are busted open and bleeding but he doesn’t feel the pain. his shoulders are heaving but even after lashing out he doesn’t feel better.

what is he supposed to do?

usually he calls you.

usually you come waltzing into his bedroom with a frown, ‘kenta, you can’t do that!’ you’d scold him. but you wouldn’t.

he knew you wouldn’t.

but that didn’t stop him from hoping.

god, he wanted you to walk in so bad. even if you didn’t knock. sometimes he would get so mad at you for that. but right now, he would give anything to hear his bedroom door fly open.

he held his fist close to his chest, squeezing his eyes closed to keep himself from crying. he never cried. he didn’t want to start now. he clenched his jaw together aimed his fist at the wall again, a large cracking noise coming from the plaster as if caved under the pressure.

then, almost as if it were out of his best dreams, the door clicked open. he whirled around with wide eyes, hope sparkling within them.

only to find the troubled face of tsukishima there instead of you.

kyoutani finally allowed himself to cry.

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

reki with tourette’s headcanons

[ID: it’s reki from sk8 the infinity wearing a yellow sweatshirt with his hands on his hips. he’s wearing a red bracelet on his right wrist and he’s smiling. behind him is a touette’s syndrome awareness flag. end ID.]

so. @zukkaclawthorne got me hooked on reki with ts and now imma post headcanons i wrote oops

okay so first—that little skateboard he plays with??? stim toy, actually.

he likes the sound the wheels make—that whirrrrrr sound. it makes his arms flappy :)

he also finds the rolling motion soothing and relaxing and it always calms him down—it takes his mind to a happy place

he rocks back and forth and shakes his legs a lot. that also contributed to why he was terrible at skateboarding the first few times he tried—because his body would be like “time to rock back and forth!” and it would mess him up

neck twitches for days :)

no but for real—neck twitching is one of his worst tics because sometimes—if he’s in a bad mood or if he’s sad or anxious—it gets harsh and violent and really strains his neck.

so, langa gives him neck / upper back neck massages to help with the pain

he went through this phase for a couple of months where whenever his neck would twitch, he would snap his fingers two times.

he has a lot of hand tics which can be stressful when he makes skateboards because sometimes he’ll be in the groove and then suddenly he’ll mess something up

speaking of messing things up, he has a tendency to dig the bottom of his palm into his forehead whenever he feels like he does something stupid—he doesn’t even realize it until someone points it out.

he feels like even more of a failure of a skater because of his tics because they can hold him back and make the course more dangerous.

if his blinking tic resurfaces, sometimes the blinking gets so intense that he literally cannot see for anywhere between five seconds and a minute depending on how bad it is. that is how he got some of his worst scars.

or sometimes he’ll make a really aggressive hand motion and it throws him off balance on the skateboard due to the intensity

anyways back to hand tics: he points a lot and does symbols like the “rock on” sign or certain numbers (for some reason, the most common number for reki to throw up is four—though sometimes he throws up whatever number he hears) he also grunts a lot as a tic so he sounds angry even when he is’t.

sometimes, his hand tics really hurt and his hands become shaky and his fingers start to feel the way his heart feels when he’s anxious. langa helps in different ways—he holds reki’s hand, he gives him something to fidget with to try to distract him (sometimes it’s his own fingers—he’ll just set them in reki’s palm and be like “let me carry some of the pain”—no, reki didn’t totally cry when he said that what)

sometimes, reki sticks pencils in his ears. his teachers have been trying to stop it since he was young, but he always did it anyways—he couldn’t help it.

his hair is also long enough for him to chew on. yes, he chews on the tips of his hair because i say so. sometimes, to stop him from doing that (and from swallowing his own hair), langa will try to make him laugh so it falls out of his mouth and then he’ll scoot close and tuck the hair behind reki’s ears… once they start dating, he kisses him too. but also that’s one reason why he wears the headband—to try to keep his hair out of his face so he doesn’t chew on it.

reki’s favorite form of stimming (other than his skateboard toy, that is) is stress balls. he’s got a couple of stress balls in his room or backpack—even one with string attached so he can carry it around his wrist. he just really likes the texture of them.

after his second race against adam, cherry and joe were so proud of him and also impressed and worried dads that they bought reki a big stress ball, like, the size of a stuffed animal. it was a blue cat. he uses it all the time.

speaking of fricking adam, we all know he would so use reki’s tics against him during a race. like, when he grabbed his wrist and “danced” with him, he would mock reki’s tics or say creepy things about how his verbal tics are music and his motor tics are him dancing along and it makes him so uncomfortable and like even more shaken

oh and adam purposely does things to trigger his tics, like when i mentioned that number tic??? yeah, adam will purposefully say numbers to make reki do the hand gestures

one time, reki wanted to tell langa that he loved him but got nervous so he signed it in sign language instead. but, since reki’s tics are occasionally hand gestures, langa thought that it was just a tic and mentally was like “i wish that was for me…” and reki is like “i wish he knew it was real…” and joe, cherry, shadow, and miya are all facepalming and groaning at their obliviousness

reki prefers taking hand written notes to electronic notes because he draws / doodles to stim and he can’t really doodle well on a laptop. so, he’ll doodle in class all of the time

sometimes, his pictures / notes turn out pretty bad / illegible depending on how bad his tics are, but that doesn’t phase reki. it used to when he was younger, but it doesn’t bother him at all anymore. in fact, he thinks it adds personality

during class, he’ll draw pictures for langa and slid them on his desk. they’re usually really random things like the teacher or the back of someone’s head or squiggly lines or whatever he sees outside. more often than not, it’s abstract art. langa loves these drawings and he keeps them all on his desk in his room.

reki also started drawing pictures for the rest of the sk8 crew and gives it to them during races. when he gave everyone their first doodle, he was like “i’m not the best artist ever and sometimes my tics mess up the doodle, but i thought of you while i drew it so i want you to have it”

(shadow didn’t shed a couple of unwilling dad tears when he got home that night what)

anyways, they all keep them. every single one. miya puts them in their school binder so they don’t feel as alone / isolated at school.

although shadow and miya give reki a lot of crap / teasing about not being as good as everyone else, the second they hear anyone comment about “the weird red head that makes noises” and comments on his ts in a negative way, oh, they will stop you.

sometimes, reki whispers words he hears under his breath as a tic (echolalia, baby~) and when he overhears people saying stuff about “that redhead that always follows snow around” or about him not being good enough or how he’s an idiot to face adam, he ends up muttering that too. and it’s not a one and done kind of thing—like. he does it for days. it makes him so upset (and i already hc him, with depression so it just makes it worse)

having tics while having injuries is not a good combination—especially if it’s with a broken arm. the crew made sure to keep an eye of reki’s comfort / pain level after adam broke his arm and literally tried to kill him in their final race. joe let reki squeeze his hand whenever he felt the urge to tic and cherry would ask him how much pain he was in after he ticced and depending on how bad it would be, would make joe or shadow fetch a heating pad or an icepack for reki.

joe also taught reki about the magical thing called physical therapy tape and helped him put it on his shoulders, neck, and back one time. it was his idea to use the tape on reki’s fingers when he was injured to make him feel better (because it literally makes my fingers feel better)

also langa kisses each of reki’s fingers and knuckles, slowly and tenderly, soft so he doesn’t hurt him or trigger a tic. a way of showing that he loves him not despite his tics, but even with his tics and that he loves him and his tics.

cherry isn’t always the best at showing he cares, so he’ll wear a ts ribbon sometimes in a way to show support (and it makes reki beam)

shadow once gave reki a flower shaped stress ball because there were “extra at work” (not true—he went looking for one)

miya didn’t really know much about ts at first and asked why reki made those noises and made weird movements all the time and langa explained so then that night when miya got home, they did research on ts so they could understand it better. later, they told reki that whenever they called him a slime, they meant it purely about skateboarding and it had nothing to do with his tics—even that his tics didn’t make him less of a skater

all his life, reki had been the different one: the one no one wanted on the team because sometimes his tics messed him up, the one who was asked to leave classes during tests because his tics were too distracting and made him take the test in the hall, when sometimes he’d get too overwhelmed by how close people were in the halls or at races and would have panic attacks, how he rocked in his chair and adjusted his position seventeen times an hour and sat on his feet while the other kids didn’t, how he shook his legs more aggressively than others, how he couldn’t skate as well as everyone else because of his tics and because he wasn’t good enough

which is probably part of the depression that weighs on his shoulders

the first time reki had a panic attack during a race due to closeness and overstimulating noises (and this is the first one after the sk8 crew happened) langa was racing and wasn’t there to help, so shadow kind of panicked and like picked him up under the armpits and carried him away from the crowd since reki could barely process anything other than panic and the sound and feeling of static and they sat in shadow’s car for the rest of the race and once he felt better, he gave shadow a huge hug and shadow returned it.

one time it happened and cherry was nearby and he saw the signs before it got bad (remembered from the previous time / his own experiences) and helped talk reki down before it got bad (he has a soothing voice)

usually, though, when / if it happens (because reki usually feels safe there), langa is the one who helps

but it got so much worse after skating against adam the first time because he no longer felt safe and suddenly everyone cheering adam’s name even after witnessing what he did to reki was too much but langa was racing adam so langa wasn’t there and this time it was joe who kneeled in front of him and started talking just loud enough for reki to hear and he was like “you’re safe—we won’t let anyone hurt you. we won’t let him hurt langa. you’re safe. i’m here and so is cherry and shadow and miya and langa will be waiting for you at the end of the race…”

it happens again at the next race he goes to—and this time it’s miya who notices and they tug on langa’s sleeve and is like “i think you need to take reki somewhere else” and langa does :)

okay i’ll end on a positive ts note or two—langa asks reki to add the ts ribbon to the design on his skateboard

shadow finds chewelry at the store one day when he’s shopping and buys it for reki (and gets a matching one for langa!)

once reki came back after his mental health break, the first thing joe said to him was, and this is nonnegotiable “reki! i missed you and your tics!”

miya once overheard reki muttering to himself about his annoying tics were, so they intervened and was like “your tics aren’t annoying. they’re you and anyone who think s they’re annoying is an idiot”

and for the first time in his life, reki doesn’t feel alone and isolated and so different from everyone (at least, he’s working on that last one) and he’s finally found a group of people who want him on their team and a boyfriend who always supports him and makes him feel less isolated, tics and all <3

i uhh I have a lot of feelings,,,

[gwenfr]

I hated this season 3.

We waited 2 years for it and we were so excited after the trailer. And then they give us THAT ???

It was so bad written... And for so many reasons...

In my opinion of course...

I did a rewatch of the precedent seasons just before watching season 3 and the UA was before one of my favorite show tv... Now not at all 😑

Anyway here are my thoughts, I never write anything (I maybe written max 10things in 10years on this site lol) so I'm sorry if it's a little stupid but I'm going to tag it with Tua tags because I feel like maybe I missed some important thing and wouldn't mind people telling me if I'm wrong etc...

Allison. Of course she is my critic number one because they did her so dirty 😔 She was already kind of one of the bag guys in season 1 because of how she used her powers in her carrier, mariage and against Viktor when she was little but then again with her own daughter etc..., but then she had a "redemption arc" and it was better in season 2. She understood not to use her power so much and her relationship with her siblings were better but now everything is even worse than season 1. And for what ? It was not only not necessary but also so bad written. The rape scene was unnecessary, we could have had the same season without it so how necessary was it to the season arc ? and don't make me begin on how the only woman in the siblings umbrella academy was the villain. And why even choose one of the sibling to be a villain ? Reginald, the sparrow kids and the end of the world were enough, no need to make the main woman of color to be the big villain, so bad and unnecessary writing... We could have feel her pain and grieves with her and understand her action if only it was better written. Like the remarks against Viktor or Klaus, and Harlan death and the sexual assault of luther were bad choices and made Allison be a bad person, not a grieving mother, so the scene where she cried etc... where to small to compete against all the scene where she was being a bad person. And it's so sad... Because viewers liked her, so why make us dislike her ? Pfff... I also think a good storyline would have been for the siblings grieving the lost of their lovers together. Like Allison lost Ray, but Klaus lost Dave, Viktor lost Sissy, Diego lost Patch, five lost Dolores, they could have bond and discuss it together, it would have been interesting 😕

Harlan. His arc could have been so much more. Like they could have explored how Viktor can give some of his power to other people, like you know, maybe it can be interesting in battle of something no ?? And then Allison kill him ? So all of the scenes with Viktor taking his power back being so long was unnecessary, it didn't have any catharsis because Harlan was killed and took a good portion of the episodes for nothing. I really had preferred if he was killed in a battle with Allison, if she was angry and not "movie-serial-killer calm". And she killed him for what ? Because he killed their mother by accident ? Because Clare was not born then ? Either it make no sense for Allison to kill him for that or she is stupid ... And I don't know which one is better. Allison is probably one of the most intelligent of the family, I mean we don't see a lot of it, but she is not stupid like Diego or Luther. So she understood that she was in a another timeline right ? Like killing Harlan would not have brought back her mother and then Clare. Even if her mother was not killed by Harlan, she probably would not have had Clare anyway. Because in this timeline Reginald didn't want to adopt Allison, he said that he wanted other kids after meetings them in 1963, so Allison would have been raised by someone else, she would have been another person, maybe never meet Patrick and then never conceived Clare. Harlan should have kept Viktor power and tried to help the two academy stop the end of the world. And it would have been a good arc you know, like yes It's kind of my fault for you not existing but now I can help you make it right again. And I know it would have been like Allison is forgiving him, but I still don't believe theire is anything to be forgiven, Harlan didn't had a choice in having this power and it was a accident when he killed the birth mothers, so it's another timeline and Allison would have not have the same life even if she was born etc... So what was the point of Harlan arc this season ? A lot a anticipation and scene for nothing at the end...

The birth mothers arc. It was so interesting at first and then just fallen flat. It's probably my fault 😅, I thought we were going to have a big reveal about it but then yeah I suppose there was not really something to talk about, the mothers were apparently chosen randomly etc... So again a lot of story was not necessary, Klaus meeting his birth mother in the afterlife was not necessary, it was good and cute but not necessary for anything in future episode so what the point ? If the umbrella academy had at least talk about their grieves or something maybe it would have had a impact, maybe we would have felt the sadness in the birth mothers death but no, we didn't have any scene to get attached to them so why their deaths should matter to the viewers ? We all knew it was a different timeline and that the umbrella academy was still living so we couldn't care about the birth mother death, and then couldn't care that Harlan killed them and so couldn't relate and understand Allison when she justified killing Harlan because of it. So for me just poor writing..

Klaus. I love him so I'm probably biased, but I really don't understand why the writers even bother putting him in the show every season with how he is treated 😒. I really thought we were making progress after the first season with how the siblings were treating him and then we are back to square one in season 3. In season 1 the siblings criticized Klaus for his addiction (dont' get me started with how they don't even care about him to try to help him get better or to understood why he's addicted in the first place, it's a rant for season 1 I suppose so anyway...) In the end of season 1, they see he's not full of bullshit, he's more intelligent and powerful that they thought. In season 2, his relationship with his siblings was much better, he bonded with Allison and Viktor and Diego and they trusted him a little more etc... And then season 3... Yes, they realised when he was missing but all the remark and the dismissal of what he was saying didn't sit right with me. I was happy we had the argument when it was revealed that yes Klaus did in fact said he saw the big thing in the academy basement but then Diego didn't care about him, I just wish Klaus would have said it to you know someone more intelligent like five... And that Diego didn't make a remark about Klaus being on drugs again, Allison remark about Klaus sniffing bath bombs or something was also very wrong... Just mean, unnecessary, such a bad thing to say to a recovering addict even worse when it's your brother, brother that you bonded with not 4 days ago, brother that helped a lot of the plot in the precedent season etc... Diego hiding his death was so stupid knowing that the siblings are so powerful and could reverse time but okay... And I know that if he was more involved in the main storyline then the season would be resolved sooner so maybe they want to make the suspense last but they still could make Klaus and his relationship with everyone better and not treat him like a piece of shit nobody care about... It's always him and it's really so annoying and exhausting... His arc with his birth mother was cool but then see rant number 3....and then his arc with Reginald....

Reginald. So much plotholes and bad writing 🙄 The worse for me was to believe that a man/person of another race, that took our apparence, lived for centuries, was part of some of the most big event in the last century, was the most intelligent person on earth, was a big scientist who literally made a ape evolved and a robot as sophisticated than Grace, this man didn't know how to defend himself against the sparrow academy kids ? And didn't know how to hide pills in your mouth ?????? Geeze... They really changed what made Reginald interesting... I hated him but at least he was interesting as a character. And then his relationship with Klaus... Again so bad written. Him helping Klaus discovering the extent of his power was cool but then for what ? Reginald didn't really care about Klaus, he really didn't change for the better, he literally didn't have to help Klaus at all. He killed Klaus at the end because he thought he could see Luther and tell the other that he killed him but then what was the purpose of him helping Klaus in the big scheme ? Reginald wanted to go to the other side to activate the sigil and reform the world to be with his wife again, his arc with helping Klaus cheating death is irrelevant in this plot 🤔 like if Klaus live or die is literally not relevant to the season plot at all, and if apparently Reginald didn't change and still his a prick who only wanted to achieve his big desire, why help Klaus at all ? He said it was because he wanted to thank Klaus helping him with the pills, but again the pills storyline didn't make sense with how powerful Reginald is... So thanks for nothing.... They destroyed a powerful character with for no purpose...

Grace. Girl, they did you dirty too. I love her and her precedent storyline. And this season? Like what purpose did she have ? Her relation with the black hole was stupid as shit. Even if she was malfunctioning, why go with the religious plot ? Why making her talk other languages ? why make her a nune at the end ? And her "death" ? You want to make me believe that a robot invented by the most intelligent scientist on earth, invented to babysit 7 of the most powerful people on earth could "die" just from a broken neck ? Okay... She literally survived the same injury in season 1 but okay... And I still can't recover from the religious things... So stupid...

Lila and Diego. I love her character and her relationship with Diego is interesting but Yeah I'm sorry but a woman being raised by a psycho mum that killed her parents and raised her to be a weapon, clearly having mental problem (how she kidnap Diego in season 2, her childhood etc...) and then being pregnant with a man she known for like 3 months max and is not mature or that intelligent is not sitting right with me. I don't know why but putting her through pregnancy in this way feel like abuse or something... Like why go there ? Did we, and did they really need that storyline ? We could have had a storyline between them about childhood and lost of birth parents by the fault of a rich and bad person who only wanted to raise them to be a weapon but also sharing the death of said "adopted parent" etc... It would have been interesting for the viewers...more interesting than another pregnancy storyline that every show want to do.... And the parallel with Allison loosing her child ? That could have made a good conflict storyline between her lost mother's life and Lila future one, like Allison could have warned her about raising a child with the lives they have etc... but no we didn't see it and instead had bad storyline with Allison etc...... And now all we have is the only two women of the show having their arc being about having children, not that groundbreaking sorry...

Ben. God, he was boring... The second character I loved the most in the show, and of course I'm talking about precedent Ben. This Ben is different, I know, so I didn't care if he was mean etc... But he just boring as shit 🥱 in the beginning, it was alright, his relationship with his sparrow siblings and his desire to be number one etc... Was interesting but then his conflict with the umbrella academy was so flat and boring. And then his redemption arc during the wedding of Sloane and his relationship with her was kind of cool, but too fast written I think...and I feel like it has a lot to do with the fact we didn't saw a lot of the bond he had with her or any of his siblings really, so we couldn't feel the lost he felt....and yep, overall, he was written to be boring.

Five. I'm going to end with him because I don't even know what to say about him... Don't know because I feel like there is nothing to say with how boring he was too. He was with Klaus, my favorite, (yes couldn't choose between them) but this season was so bad to him. Like I know we could see him being tired and wanting to retire so that, that was good but then he want to save the universe, and then no, and then yes again etc... We couldn't be on board with him if he changed his mind sm ??? And the only good plot he had was the end of the commission and his little voyage to see it destroyed but then it was over in the blink of a eye ??? Like we could have make it much more that it was I feel, with how important the commission was in the first two seasons and in Five' life. And same with him creating the commission, thanks God for Lila comment on it during the umbrella/sparrow reunion because otherwise I wouldn't even know if the other siblings knew the truth or not with how little we cared about that fact.... but also that it was a character not present in season 1 that commented on it and not even Five' siblings was pretty shitty... Anyway, we nearly didn't see him this season, maybe it's because he was such a big part of the plot in the first two seasons and the writers wanted to concentrate on the other characters, I would have accepted it if the other characters were written better and to be less boring that they were but with how they were and their storyline in this third season, yep, I would rather have past Five again...

And there were so many other bad storyline and plotholes...

Stan being the kid of Lila and Diego made kind of sense if only Diego knew about him, because Diego is not bright (and I love this stupid man), but then the other siblings not commenting on the fact that Stan is white and so couldn't be Lila and Diego son.... like Five and Allison could have made a funny comment about it... Like that, it was just boring and a unnecessary storyline if we don't care for Lila pregnancy.

So many times the dialogue was repeated in a short time, like some character said sentence A then B and C and then repeated A ???

And same with some scenes, big or small. I can't even remember which one but I was more than once like 🤔 didn't we just saw nearly the same scene like 5min ago ??? For example, during the wedding, we see Sloane and Luther dance, then some scene, then Sloane and Luther dance again. Maybe it's just me, but I found this two dance scenes redondant. One would have been enough. And with this time in the episode, we could have focused on some more important thing or dialogue.

And don't make me started on the wedding episode, I can't really criticize the love story between Sloane and Luther because they both had shitty life and maybe their love make sense but my god this episode was too long... And again so redondant... Same dance scene, same speeches, same conversation between the groom and bride, same Allison/Viktor conflict, I felt like this episode was written by someone who never wrote anything else and didn't know how to do it...(sorry if I'm too harsh).

Marcus storyline was a piece of shit, we had so many unnecessary plot, I feel like we could have kept Marcus for a better storyline at least but...

At the end, the siblings literally just learned their adopted father was not human and just don't care ?

Not enough power being used, and at the same time being too much used for stupid unnecessary fight scene. Like the scene between Diego and the sparrows in the grocery store was for what purpose ? So long and didn't enter any storyline. The fight between the two academy in the hotel entrance before Harlan enter was boring. Allison didn't fight Harlan. Five and Lila fight scene in the bathroom was boring and déjà vu. The final scene against the guardian were boring and nearly without any power being used ...

Talking about the guardians, why did Reginald ringed the bell ? If he was searching for the sigil and made the siblings search for it in the hotel why make their task harder and nearly killing them by summoning the guardians ? He could have let them search for the sigil, it was the sigil that was important so what purpose was to ring the bell ? I felt I missed something...

Anyway, I'm sure I will add some other things after but for now, yep, I'm so disappointed... I waited so long for this season and I liked the show so much before, now I'm just mad that with the time they had, they couldn't even write something good. I don't ask for the same plot that the first two seasons but just not destroying the characters and not so many plotholes would have been cool. Here I just feel like this season was written by too many people who wanted to have their own plot be in the show and so the season was going everywhere and in so many places uninteresting. It felt like 20 bad au of the original show at once.

[whumpmatsus]

I am just absolutely in love with how you write! I think I have a good iromatsu idea; after a prank gone wrong Kara gives Ichi the silent treatment to the extreme; does not talk to him, sit near him, or even stay in the same room when they're alone and even switched sleeping spots. Kara thinks it'll teach Ichi a lesson, but really it devestates Ichi and Kara tries to comfort him now.

aaaa thank you!! everyone is so nice with compliments like that, it motivates me to write more and always puts a smile on my face to hear kind words!!! <3

and ahhh this is definitely a good Iromatsu idea!! it was so much fun to write ;7;

Ichi stop being so emotionally constipated and show your feelings to your brothers, they love you and it'll make you feel better ;w;

-

In hindsight, perhaps Ichimatsu should have known better than to mess with Karamatsu’s guitar.

It would be one thing if he fucked with the leather jacket, or the sunglasses, or one of the tank tops with Karamatsu’s own face on it, because he’s pretty sure Karamatsu has an endless supply of those. His guitar, however, is something which doesn’t have a backup. It’s quite possibly the only thing Karamatsu loves more than himself, though obviously not as much as he loves his brothers.

For some stupid reason, it only hits Ichimatsu after the prank he pulls that this guitar is probably Karamatsu’s sole most important possession.

Of course, by the time it does hit him, the damage has already been done. He thought that the expression on his brother’s face would be over the top, hilarious, and the highlight of his day.

Instead, it’s burned into his brain in the worst way. When Karamatsu saw his younger brother letting the kitten in his lap bat at a ball made of his guitar’s strings, it was as if someone had just shoved a knife in his back.

God, Ichimatsu hates that kind of expression. That betrayed, wounded, raw look.

That hurts. What hurts worse is that for the rest of the day, it’s as if Karamatsu only has four brothers. Ichimatsu tries to apologize, and he’s met with Karamatsu walking out of the room entirely. No matter what he does, Karamatsu doesn’t want to be near him. He goes so far as to eat dinner in the other room with their parents rather than sit around a table with Ichimatsu.

Everyone knows what Ichimatsu did, but none of the others have ever seen Karamatsu quite so upset either. It would be a miracle if they aren’t all pissed at him, too.

The worst blow comes when they’re all getting ready for bed. Ichimatsu is more tired than usual for whatever reason, so he’s prepared to fall asleep the second his head hits the pillow. When he settles into his spot at one end of the futon, he rolls over with the intention of giving Karamatsu a gruff, apologetic hug… only to come face to face with very obviously not Karamatsu.

He hisses something about why the hell Totty is in Karamatsu’s spot, and Totty gives him the explanation that Karamatsu asked to switch tonight. “… But I’ll take the hug, though,” he teases as he cuddles up, so Ichimatsu can’t shove him away or he’ll be an asshole.

Even with the youngest sleeping soundly pressed against him, Ichimatsu barely sleeps a wink himself. He doesn’t like this. Despite the fact that he tries to convince himself he doesn’t give a shit about Karamatsu, the truth is that Karamatsu is still his big brother. The thought of admitting that he loves Karamatsu and thinks he’s cool leaves a horrible taste in his mouth, but…

He doesn’t like this.

He wanted to play a stupid prank and maybe just get on Karamatsu’s nerves a little bit. He never wanted to have Karamatsu so angry with him that he won’t speak to Ichimatsu, that he doesn’t even want to sleepnext to him.

This… hurts.

-

Although Ichimatsu may not sleep much during the night, he refuses to get up in the daytime when everyone else does.

Sometimes that’s not so worrying. The others know Ichimatsu sleeps a lot at odd hours when his depression kicks in, and rather than risk getting growled at, they often just let him sleep. As long as they can get him up in time for lunch, it doesn’t usually affect him too much.

… It’s after 2 P.M. now, though, and even with everyone knowing he’s awake, Ichimatsu won’t get out of bed.

Out of all the brothers, regardless of the fact that Karamatsu has been trying to teach his little brother a lesson, he’s probably the most worried about this. Even though he’s definitely angry about what Ichimatsu did, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to forgive him.

It was heartbreaking to see that Ichimatsu would damage something that means so much to Karamatsu. Even with how much Ichimatsu doesn’t like him, Karamatsu never thought his little brother would intentionally do anything to his guitar.

But… he did notice the look on Ichimatsu’s face every time Karamatsu gave him the cold shoulder. Combined with the fact that Ichimatsu is staying in bed, Karamatsu thinks that maybe he went a bit too far with this punishment.

Ichimatsu doesn’t even lift his head when Karamatsu pokes into their shared bedroom and calls, “Brother?”

So he creeps in a bit more. And more. And more, until he’s standing at the edge of the futon, five empty spaces away from his brother. Most of the time, he’s so good with words… even if he has to plan them out beforehand, or even if they sometimes sound painful.

Now, he doesn’t really know what to say.

“Ichimatsu…” He frowns and traces circles in the carpet with his foot. “It’s nearly three in the afternoon. Aren’t you getting up?”

What he gets in response is a listless shrug. It’s not in typical Ichimatsu fashion, though. “What’s the point? Leave me alone. You haven’t had any problem doing that so far.”

Ouch. Unfortunately, Karamatsu supposes that fair is fair.

He inches forward until he’s not too far, then lowers himself down next to Ichimatsu. “I’m… sorry about that.”

“No, you’re not. And you shouldn’t be. I’m garbage, and what I did was shitty. Shittier than you and your entire wardrobe.” Ichimatsu’s knees come up to his chest, body curling into a tight ball. “I deserve to have you mad at me for the rest of my life. You hate me and I hate myself, too. I’m…”

There’s a weird sound, like Ichimatsu is choking on his own words. “… I’m sorry. Just go away. Don’t bother with me. I’m not worth your time.”

Every word feels like there’s a vise tightening, tightening, tightening, around Karamatsu’s heart. That’s… what?? Ichimatsu really thinks that Karamatsu hates him?

He definitely wouldn’t have expected to see his younger brother so broken up about that fact. Ichimatsu often goes out of his way to avoid Karamatsu’s company, so shouldn’t he be relieved that Karamatsu stopped wanting to be around him?

A quiet moment passes before Karamatsu reaches to drape an arm over Ichimatsu. There’s practically no resistance as he pulls the fourth eldest in against him, gently rubbing his shoulder.

“I don’t hate you,” he murmurs. “It’s… true that I’m upset with you. Or at least I was. This was… I wasn’t going to shut you out forever. To be honest, I thought you would be happy that I wasn’t bothering you anymore. I anticipated that perhaps my silence would make you angry. That you might snap at me after a day or so and tell me you were sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel…”

He shifts his hands around with the intent of trying to move Ichimatsu to face him, but stops cold when his palm meets dampness on his brother’s cheek.

Is Ichimatsu… crying??

Karamatsu freezes at that thought. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Ichimatsu cry since they were kids. Then, he pulls his little brother in closer. There’s no struggling, no protests, just a stifled sob as Ichimatsu ducks his head down.

Karamatsu rests his head against the top of Ichimatsu’s. “… Did my treatment really hurt you that badly? Are you really that anguished by the idea that I would stop wanting anything to do with you?”

There’s no response except a nod, something that Ichimatsu seems to try and stop anyway.

A soft exhale puffs against Ichimatsu’s neck, and the way he stiffens suggests that the sudden warm air sent a shiver up his spine. “I’m… so sorry. I truly didn’t believe it would hurt you so much.”

“You’re still my Karamatsu-nii-san.” The admission is followed by a sniffle as he rubs at his eyes. “Just because I’m trash doesn’t mean I don’t…”

“Ahahah… you love me. That’s it, right?” Karamatsu teases lightly. He tugs his baby brother closer still, and is surprised when Ichimatsu abruptly rolls over to bury his face against Karamatsu’s chest.

Ichimatsu’s skinny arms find their way around Karamatsu’s waist, hugging as tightly as he can bring himself to. He hates it. He hates that Karamatsu is right,and how he can’t even actually say the words himself, and crying, and everything about this. Why is anyone, even his big brother, still bothering with him?

“… Please don’t be mad at me anymore,” he mumbles. That begging voice is so small and barely even sounds like him, even to himself. “I don’t… I don’t like it.”

Karamatsu chuckles and gingerly rubs Ichimatsu’s back. It’s a little sad to consider, but their relationship has become so strained now that they’re adults, to the point that Ichimatsu being so honest about his feelings to anyof his brothers, especially Karamatsu, is rare. It would probably be easier to pull his teeth than to get him to confess that something is wrong until it’s bubbling over and he can’thide it anymore.

He holds Ichimatsu as close as he can, and it feels like Ichimatsu is trying to keep himself tiny and safe inside the embrace. A kiss is pressed to the top of Ichimatsu’s head; a shaky, tearful breath is the instant reaction. “All is forgiven, my brother. I would never dream of truly abandoning you like that. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for upsetting you to such a degree.”

He gives a cautious squeeze, reassured when Ichimatsu squeezes back. “You are one of the most important people in my world, Ichimatsu. You’re my little brother, and I love you very much, and I regret to inform you that there is most likely nothing you can do to ever change that.”

Ichimatsu relaxes, if only slightly. He’ll get up soon, and even though hearing these things isn’t a magic switch that makes him feel better about himself or what he’s done… it’s a comfort. It means that Karamatsu isn’t so angry with him that he’s been disowned.

“If you are ever hurt or insecure about any of that,” Karamatsu hums softly, “all you need to do is come find me and let yourself be held in my arms. I hope you know that.”

… Well.

If he didn’t before, he certainly does now.

[keilemlucent]

i am your salvation

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~13k

For years, Keigo had trained his body, fucking perfected it’s abilities. Every part of him was honed and forcibly designed to be the winged-hero, Hawks. But, now? He was the defunct number two, ‘Hawks’ and at home— reality? He was the comically broken Keigo Takami who struggled to do basic physical therapy.

Only you know him like that.

warnings: manga spoilers, suicidal ideation, abuse, ANGST with a capital A, just sad :^(((

this piece is hellish, enjoy ;^))) beta’ed by the lovely @keiqos, bless u

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

Keigo was fucked.

He was so beyond fucked.

He was dead.

Basically.

He was half-alive in a hospital bed. An IV drip in each arm, pumping him full of god knows what. He didn’t care to ask. All he knew was that he fucked up.

He��d gotten sloppy.

Stupid.

Pompous. 

And now his wings were fried off his back.

(By fucking Dabi no less.)

 The first conversation he’d had with his doctor upon waking at the HPSC hospital was one where he legitimately contemplated suicide for the first time in a long while.

  “Hawks... There’s no good way to say this. There just isn’t,” The doctor began, looking through Keigo’s chart, sighing deeply. There was something so grave about the way he moved through the sterile hospital room.

The doctor handed him a handheld mirror. 

Hawks slowly raised it up with weakened arms, knowing what he’d see. 

A gruesome burn tore down the left side of his face. It puckered the skin around his eye, narrowing his field of vision (thank god he still had any vision at all). The soft flesh around his eye was so angry and blistered, pockets of puss gathering beneath the surface of his skin.

But what was worse than the scar, so much fucking worse, was the absence.

The complete absence of his wings.

No stubs, no nubs. Just nothing. 

His back ached against the hospital bed as he handed the mirror back to the doctor.

The doctor sighed again. He spoke to Hawks like he didn’t think the hero already knew what he was going to say, “Your wings are gone. Fully. The scans we’ve taken show that the... well, roots of them in your flesh are still present, they’re encased in scar tissue. Even the sections that the feathers grow from are cauterized. In our professional opinion, we don’t think that they’ll ever grow again.”

His heart fell in his chest. 

It fell so deep.

So far.

He didn’t let himself cry.

Instead, he contemplated how hard it would be to overdose on morphine they were undoubtedly dosing him with. 

The doctor continued as Keigo stared sightlessly at his lap, “As established, the muscles that control the roots of your wings are still intact, yes. But, they’re heavily damaged in a way that will affect your everyday life. Even without your wings, the recovery to stabilize your injuries is going to be strenuous.”

Who fucking cared.

Hawks had spent the vast majority of his life training to be a hero and now the very thing that made him the best was literally burned from him. It felt unholy. It felt awful.

Fire wasn’t cleansing, it was putrid. Desecrated was his body as well as his mind.

  He didn’t listen to much else of what the doctor said. He let himself go blank, wishing tears would fall. 

 ...

 That was yesterday.

Today, he was allowed visitors. His PA came, informing him that the Commission was putting him on extended, indefinite (thankfully, somewhat paid) leave in exchange for media appearances. They also informed him that half of the top ten were dead after the war with the PLF. Ryuku, Miruko, Edgeshot, Kamuiwoods, Crust, all lost. And countless others, too. Even some students. It seemed that there was no clear winner of the fight that took so many and changed so much.

One of the most hard-hitting pieces of news was that Endeavor was in a coma, on life support, with a brain injury that would most likely kill him. At best, he’d be a vegetable. 

Keigo felt nothing but hollow as he laid in his hospital bed. He was half machine, based on all of the tubes and monitors that he was hooked up to. He felt truly mechanical and falsely alive. Truly, he was used up. He wanted to die. He was sure of it. 

Keigo wanted to ask his PA to smother him.

He didn’t.

 The next person to visit him was you. His PA had informed him that they were legally obligated to see him first, otherwise, you would’ve been clawing his door down.

You.

Keigo didn’t want you to see him like this. All the reasons you had fallen for him were gone. There was no confidence, no lip, no charm, no drive, no stunning scarlet wings— nothing. He even had the bonus deterrent of a nasty scar covering half his face. He was so sure that you’d take one look at him and turn right out the door. 

Leave him for good. 

Maybe spit on him for good measure.

The old muscles of his wings twitched as you walked through the door. It burned like an old hell. 

You’d clearly been crying, face and eyes puffy. 

But you were strong for him.

You pulled a chair up next to his bed wordlessly. You sat, laying your head on his antiseptic smelling sheets and mattress. Your eyes went half-lidded, just barely looking up at Keigo’s terrified expression. You reached out, grabbing one of Keigo’s clammy hands. You squeezed it.

“I’m here, Kei’,” Your voice was so quiet. “It’s alright. I love you. I’ve got you.”

It made him break.

The machines that he was reliant on screamed as he desperately grabbed at you, dragging you up with the little strength he had. You pushed him down, moving to half kneel on his bed. You didn’t make Keigo work for your touch. 

You cradled his head to your chest as his scarred hands fisted your sweater. He screamed into your sternum. Keigo wailed and cried with everything he had. He was losing himself, raging for far more than just his current injury.

 He bawled for every single time he couldn’t in his hero training, forced to be broken by the demands of the Commission. He sobbed for every casualty and death that was on his hands, righteous or otherwise. And, selfishly, he cried for himself. He let tears fall in mourning for the version of himself that died by Dabi’s hand. 

He let himself shatter in your arms for the burning muscles and scars of his back, the ache of his face, and the emptiness and vulnerability that his lack of wings graced him with.

You more than let him; you encouraged it.

You stroked his hair, matted with sweat and grease. You whispered soft adorations, validations and love into his ears. He can hear your tears too, but it didn’t stop you.

“I love you, Keigo.”

“I’m here.”

“You’re safe.” 

“I’m not leaving.”

“I’ve got you, Kei’.”

“No one else will hurt you. I won’t let them.”

 You were far too late on the last one. But, you were quirkless. Powerless to stop the destruction that ravaged his body and now, his mind. 

Additionally, Keigo was relieved you didn’t say that ‘everything will be okay’. 

He knew it wouldn’t be.

You let him crumble against you for hours. 

Finally, he was spent, falling back in his bed, and letting you slump back into your chair. You took the liberty of finding a warm towel to wipe his face down with.

The rest of visiting hours, you laid your head on his mattress, holding his hand as he drifted in and out of sleep. Nurses came and poked and prodded him. They didn’t bother making conversation with either of you. 

They understood, to some degree. 

You were both together in mourning. 

A nurse came by later, night had fallen, telling you visiting hours were over. 

Keigo audibly whined.

You shook your head, running a thumb over Keigo’s knuckles.

“It’s alright,” You soothed both him and the nurse. “I’m not leaving.”

The nurse didn’t fight you, merely exited the room.

Keigo watched, awed. You retrieved a decently sized duffle bag and pillow that you’d brought (he hadn’t noticed). You set up a blanket and the pillow on a couch in the corner as a makeshift bed.

“Y-you’re staying?” Keigo asked, voice raw. 

You, somehow, smiled. So gentle and precious, nodding, “As long as you’d like me to. I told you, I’m here.”

Keigo relied on you for comfort in the past, sure. But not like this. Not like you were his anchor, tethering him to his existence now that his pride and preen were plucked from him. You were his salvation in that hospital room. You were the ground that he desperately and necessarily needed to learn to walk on.

 You both fell asleep quickly, dreaming of better things outside of your waking nightmare.

 ---------------------------

 Keigo was discharged two weeks later.

It is thoroughly confirmed that, unless by some medical miracle, his wings were truly toast. Gone for good.

The Commission brought in at least a dozen folks with spectacular healing quirks. Truly, the best the country had. Turns out, the Commission was clawing for hope too, in the wake of everything.

The efforts were in vain, of course.

Nothing stuck. 

The scar tissue wouldn’t shrink. The damage was too severe. The cauterization was so intense, it altered him. Forever.

 You stayed with him the whole time.

You went home, just a bit, maybe an hour a day. You showered then, changed clothes. 

You’d come back and do what you had been the whole time.

Just being there.

 You didn’t make him idly chat or make him watch shitty, hospital cable. You let him ruminate, stew, and simmer. You let him be crushed.

You were smart enough, empathetic enough to know that nothing you could do or say would lift him right now. 

He just needed you there.

And so, you were. 

 After being discharged with several prescriptions, orders to limit activity to allow for his other injuries (and concussion) to heal, the two of you went home. 

 Your first task was Keigo getting properly washed. 

At first, Keigo resisted.

“N-no, I’m fine, I’ll take one tomorrow,” Truthfully, he wouldn’t probably, not without your help. He just didn’t want you to see him so intimately in this state.

You shook your head, speaking as you brought several plush towels into the bathroom. You turned to Keigo who had wrapped his arms around his frail-looking form, looking at the floor.

You brought him into your arms, rubbing at his neck, not wanting to aggravate the injuries on his back, “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll feel good. Let me take care of you, please.”

You spoke so earnestly, it made Keigo fall apart. He hated being so helpless. 

He nodded against you.

You sat him on the toilet seat while you ran a bath in Keigo’s spectacular tub. You poured in epsom salts and some lavender bubble bath, filling the room with a familiar, herbal scent.

You helped him strip, mindful to not linger on any part of his body. Carefully, you lowered Keigo into the water. He could help but be surprised by the strength in your body to do so. Perhaps foolishly, he had never taken you as physically strong. After stripping yourself, you got in as well, across from him, so you wouldn’t see his scars. You were perhaps a bit too considerate.

The water burned his wounds, yet calmed his muscles. It was a different sensation than the ones he’d had for the past weeks. He welcomed it.

Keigo sagged in the bathwater, looking somewhat relaxed for the first time in so long. You knelt in the water and suds, lathering up his hair and body. So carefully did you wash away the sweat, smells, and lingerings of the hospital and the war that preceded it. You went through his hair with your own conditioner, figuring that the familiar smell might help keep him calm. Keigo didn’t say anything, just let you do as you needed. You carefully untangled any and all knots from his tresses, rinsing him down.

You dried him off, putting a few scented body oils on his dry patches of skin, parched from his time in the hospital. You still didn’t look at his back.

He felt ashamed and thoroughly disgusted. He smushed his face into your shoulder, gripping onto your like if he wasn’t, he’d die.

You find him fucking repulsive, right?

 “Kei’,” Your voice quiet still, “You okay?— Wait, don’t answer that.”

You chuckle at yourself. Keigo would’ve laughed too if he could. 

Keigo dressed himself, a semi-self sufficient act that made him feel better. Though, you picked out the clothes. Some of your own, soft, old garments that Keigo had seen you in a hundred times. 

It was only before he put on a shirt that you gave his back the quickest once-over, “You can put your shirt on now, Kei’. I just wanted to make sure it looked okay. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Even that much sight and contact of the old roots of his wings made him feel so ashamed. It burned the corpse of his ego like the hot fire that crisped his wings. 

Despite those nasty feelings, the simple act of wearing your shirt made him feel better. It felt so good, so good, to be surrounded by you instead of the sterility of the hospital. 

 You had been kind enough to leave the hospital for a bit longer than normal the day prior to go shopping. You bought Keigo a large, fluffy, ivory blanket. You even washed it, so it smelled like home (and you) too.  

After you helped him to the wide couch, custom made to accommodate Keigo’s now torched wings. It was a small burn (ha) to his psyche, but he tried to let it go as you got him comfortable.

You gave him your special pillow. The one Keigo loved to steal and take naps with. You covered him in the new blanket.

“Is that okay?” You asked, tucking him in. Keigo would normally be embarrassed by something childish like that, but he couldn’t make himself care. It felt so good to be comforted. 

 So softly, he replied, “You made it feel like home already.”

You let a sad smile drift to your face, massaging Keigo’s scalp as he sobbed into his new blanket. 

He was so glad to be surrounded by you, no matter how rotten he felt. 

 -------------------

 The first week home was the hardest. Sleeping was painful, even next to you. Eating was a fucking labor as he had no appetite. Nothing interested him in the slightest other than staring at walls and pretending he would wake up from this nightmare soon.

An at-home physical therapist was brought in. He had to retrain the muscles in his back to relax, now that they weren’t carrying the weight of his wings. The constant tension in his back would cause long term damage (not like he wasn’t already riddled with chronic injury), least of all tension headaches. 

Your job let you work from home. Thank god.

...

Keigo hated his exercises. They hurt so bad.

For years, Keigo had trained his body, fucking perfected its abilities. Every part of him was honed and forcibly designed to be the winged-hero, Hawks. But, now? He was the defunct number two, ‘Hawks’ and at home— reality? He was the comically broken Keigo Takami who struggled to do basic physical therapy. 

Only you knew him like that.

 Keigo’s fists slammed against the floor as he strained with his PT exercises, the therapist themselves long gone for the day. You worked from your laptop on the couch. You weren’t supposed to aid him with his exercises unless necessary, as the therapist had instructed.

“Do you want me to help you?” You asked, almost coaxingly. 

Keigo beat his fists once more, crying out almost like a petulant child, (he hated himself for it oh my god—), “I don’t want to fucking do this! I can’t do this!”

And Keigo sobbed into the floor with abandon.

You moved from the couch to haul him into your arms, pressing his face into your neck. You said nothing, you just let him scream and die against you.

“I can’t do this!” 

“I hate this!”

“Make this fucking stop!”

“Just make this all fucking stop!”

“JUST FUCKING KILL ME ALREADY!”

This got you to speak, not shushing him, but just trying to soothe—

“IF YOU REALLY FUCKING LOVE ME, THEN YOU’LL SLIT MY THROAT IN MY SLEEP AND LET THIS FUCKING NIGHTMARE BE OVER!—”

 You froze. 

He didn’t.

Keigo kept begging you to kill him. 

Incessantly so.

He didn’t know what to do.

This was a tantrum, maybe. More like a breakdown. It felt dramatic. But, his thoughts were real. He’d be happy to die, especially by your hand. Then you wouldn’t have to take care of him and he wouldn’t be able to feel as awful as he did. 

You kept holding him, squeezing him harder and harder still. 

Finally, Keigo tuckered himself out and sagged against you. 

 You reached up to the side table, grabbing your own glass of water, and offering it to him. You still hadn’t spoken.

Part of him thought to apologize, crack a joke even. But he couldn’t make himself do either. Instead, his shaking hands grabbed the glass. You didn’t fully let it go, just guided it to his lips where it dribbles down his chin. 

Keigo sputtered a sob.

He couldn’t stand being so weak.

 “Love,” You spoke so softly as he sipped. “I will never hurt you like that. I won’t let anyone else, either.”

Keigo suddenly started fucking laughing, for the first time in so fucking long, ripping the cup fully from your hands and throwing it across the room. It shattered in a wild display of raining glass and water. He hadn’t laughed in what felt like months. He let it loose, grabbing your face and directing it right at you, breath curling over your cheeks.

He knew it was cruel, to take it out on you. He hated himself for it even as he was doing it.

“How the fuck do you think you’ll protect me?” Keigo cackled into your face, horror beginning to overtake your features. He didn’t care. It felt good— “You’re just some stupid, weak, quirkless civilian— how the fuck do you think someone as powerless as you can protect me when I can’t even protect me—!”

 He kept laughing, but he was crying. He couldn’t tell which was which. Keigo could only tell he was hysterical.

 This whole time, since he had woken up in the hospital, you had been nothing but the perfect partner. You had been so kind, asking for nothing in return.

And yet, he’d verbally strike you like this for no other reason than his own hurt.

How fucking cruel.

 You let Keigo go, unable to disguise the pain in your expression. You didn’t say anything back to him. As you left the room, you were covering your eyes with your arm. Keigo caught one of your sobs as you fled to the bathroom, almost slamming the door. 

 Keigo heard your muffled cries for hours until you fell asleep on the bathroom tile as his old burns and guilt ate him alive. 

 He tried his exercises again. 

 -------------------

 That night, Keigo was too deep in sleep to hear you enter your shared bedroom. Part of you didn’t want to sleep next to him. You thought about returning to the bathroom or moving to the couch. But, you couldn’t make yourself. 

Keigo’s words hurt so bad. 

Partially because they were cruel. They gnawed at your insecurities, the fears you were desperately suppressing for him. 

Partially because you hated the fact you couldn’t do more, despite already doing so much. 

Partially because you knew that Keigo would never say things like that to you if he wasn’t being eaten up on the inside. 

Partially because the love of your life asked you to snuff his life out. 

It all hurt. Stung. Ached. Burned. 

 There was a small detail that hurt in a different way.

He called you quirkless.

You weren’t quirkless.

Your quirk was so weak and so taxing, sure. It was basically unusable. For fucks sake, you never even bothered to tell Keigo directly as you never used it. He had access to citizen quirk records, and you figured he checked in the several years the two of you had been dating. Apparently not.

But, you did have a quirk.

You stood next to your bed, Keigo covered in the comforter and soft white blanket you’d gotten for him. You could see the peakings of his back. His skin was marred with burns, cuts and scars that looked unimaginably horrible. You’d been avoiding looking at it, for him. You’d seen how it made him cringe.

But now with Keigo sleeping so deeply? You took it all in.

You looked at the nearly black scarring where the roots of his wings were. The fanning out of puckered, red skin from the burns. His back, which once rippled with the muscles that controlled his crazily powerful wings, was now a charred plain. 

...

You had an awful, far-fetched, fucked up idea. 

You sat, sinking into the bed as you contemplated your idea.

You brought your hands to your face, concentrating on your fingertips. 

Small, tiny vines and green shoots left your fingers.

There’s absolutely no way that this will work.

But, you’d hate yourself if you didn’t try.

 Life reclaimed life, you supposed. 

You drummed up a half-assed plan. It was a weak, frail idea— it would need a lot of support. Even then, you didn’t want to give yourself false hope. You couldn’t give Keigo false hope. It would ruin him.

...

You’d have to fix your diet. Eat lots of nutrient-rich food. Take more vitamins too.

You slotted yourself next to Keigo who, in sensing your warmth, turned into you, pressing into your front. His head nuzzled into your chest, an arm wrapping around your waist. 

You heard him wince at the motion, flinching in his sleep.

You had to try. 

One of your hands went to his back, brushing down the comforter to reveal the particularly gnarly scars where Keigo had lost part of himself. You laid your hand flat on the fire-flayed skin, praying you don’t wake him. You concentrated, watching small greenery go from your fingers to his flesh, desperately trying to repair the damage that had been done. 

 ------------------------------------

 Keigo apologized to you the next morning. He clutched your chest and told you how sorry he was. He told you how he knows he’s acting out, he’s just so fucking sad—

You told him that he didn’t need to justify himself. Not to you. Though, you accepted his apology and asked him to not say those kinds of things to you again.

“I’m trying my best, and I know it's not enough sometimes... but it's all I’ve got,” You speak to him in your own small voice. One that portrayed a weakness that you hadn’t shown since Keigo had been injured.

He felt even guiltier. 

 But, the second week was better.

His exercises were getting easier. Eating came a little better too. You started cooking more, not getting as much takeout. Part of him missed the comfort of familiar street foods, but another part of him craved the home-cooked meals you made so much more. They helped him feel better too, packed with veggies and lean proteins. 

Keigo didn’t notice, he was far too out of it, but you were already looking more haggard. 

It came with using your quirk in general, let alone to the extent you were pushing it. It was a pitiful quirk and you’d never strained it half as far as you were then. 

It had a price. 

To heal others, even something as small as a paper cut would take from your own body.

And, you were dedicating at least thirty minutes a night to attempting to ‘heal’ (read: reconstruct) the tissue of Keigo’s back. You had to start so deep in his muscles; it hurt to push your quirk that far down. Within the first five minutes, that first night you tried, you were silently crying from exertion.

But, you didn’t relent.

Each day, it was a little easier.

Sure, you had bad nights where it was extra hard. You blamed it on not eating well enough, using up too much of yourself during the day. 

It was a shitty excuse, notably. Your quirk was weak and self-destructive, it was beyond your bodily capabilities. There was no way to tell if it was even working to heal Keigo’s body. It was a gamble. 

And your wager was your health and body.

Even eating optimally and taking a bevy of new vitamins each morning before Keigo awoke, you could tell your physical health was suffering. You were losing a bit of fat already. Dark circles were punched under your eyes from the exhaustion. You had developed the slightest shake when you moved.

And the worst part was, you knew that you’d only get weaker from here on out.

So, you upped your calorie intake. You kept careful track of the foods you ate, the same with Keigo’s. He didn’t seem to mind the delicious meals you now coveted crafting, no matter how tired you were. If he was eating better, it would probably help you too, right?

You could only hope, resting it all on a long shot. 

 --------------------------

 Week three was good, but hard. 

The HPSC commission forced Keigo to do a media appearance. He told them, bluntly, that he couldn’t fake it right now. Probably, forever. 

They told him to suck it up, get out there, and put some hope into their society that was being pulled apart at the seams.

Keigo refused to let you come. He didn’t want to think about how you’ll look at him when he’s all dressed in his hero uniform, wings absent from his back, forcing him to bear the two empty slots of his jacket. 

When he mentioned it, you offered to sew them up.

Keigo felt horrible, but he just gave a nod, handing you his jacket without looking at you. 

You stitched the slits shut for him. Keigo requested red thread for the stitching and you obliged him.

 (You made note that Keigo truly had no hope. You couldn’t tell him a thing about your quirk usage until you were positive that it would have results.) 

 The media appearance went okay. Not great, but okay. ‘Hawks’ was dead, and Keigo was not a performer like he was. Though he still went by his hero name, his real name only known by himself, the Commission, Dabi (may he rot in hell), and you. He coveted that you had the intimacy in knowing his identity, but it felt dirtier now that Dabi (Touya?) had that name in his throat as well.

 When Keigo came home from the media appearance, he was keyed up. He flitted around the apartment while you made dinner. There was an anxiousness in his movements.‘Hawks’ would’ve taken to the skies to fly off some of this fractious energy. Keigo just had to wait for food to be ready and pray that the feelings went away. 

Just before dinner, he decided to try exercises outside of the one his physical therapist assigned him. He was feeling energetic enough, right? Might as well pull out some of the easier moves from his hero training. 

Keigo moved to his now seldom-used at home gym. He picked up a dust-covered five-pound weight and proceeded to try and curl it. The moment Keigo brought it above his head, his back tensed and burned something fierce.

The weight fell from Keigo’s hand, half-thrown, luckily missing any and all of his toes and feet. 

He cried in frustration, stuck staring at himself in the wall of mirrors. 

Keigo truly thought he looked pitiful.

He was still wearing his hero uniform sans the jacket. He’d lost a lot of muscle mass with his more sedentary state. His hair was too long. He had gotten more pale, losing his few freckles. His eyes were bloodshot and his teeth curl over his lips in a snarl—

“Keigo?” You opened the door to the gym, eyes wide with shock, but your tone didn’t change. He just glowered at you from the mirrors. You spoke again, staring him down with an almost scarily neutral poker face. “Dinner’s ready. Would you like to eat? Otherwise, I can save it for you.”

Keigo didn’t reply. He went back to trying to pick up the weight, screaming each time and hating how his back burned so intensely.

You left without saying anything. 

 ---------------------------

 Week four was hard because you and Keigo’s relationship is beginning to suffer. Or, it had been, but it was reaching a fever pitch. 

Keigo’s lack of human contact, lack of physical activity, and general cabin fever were getting to him. He was lashing out more and you, kind as you were, were having trouble dealing with it.

Your own run downstate was eating you alive, literally. No matter how much you put into your body, you needed more to heal Keigo. You were up to two hours a night of working at Keigo’s tissue with your quirk. By the end of your ‘sessions’, you would simply pass out and fall into listless slumber. You were losing a lot of sleep each night, but you were determined to keep going. 

Your exhaustion, in general, was making you a bit more prickly towards Keigo’s increasing frequent outbursts.

It all came to a head on a Sunday night.

The two of you were curled up on the couch, half-cuddling and half-watching TV.

A notice for breaking news showed red on the screen.

Both of you tensed. Before Keigo’s injury, he’d be rushing to throw on his hero gear and fly to help. Now, he just sat next to you, stiff as a board with pin-pricked pupils.

A picture, pre-PLF injury Endeavor flashed on screen.

“The Hero Public Safety Commission has just made the press release the former number one hero, Endeavor, is no longer in comatose.”

You watched a real, happy smile, spread on Keigo’s face. For a moment, there was a sliver of hope—

“But, he still remains in critical condition. Due to injuries affecting his central nervous system, he is reported as being in a state of paralysis. As of now, his life still hangs in the balance, though he is lucid.”

Keigo stiffened again.

There was rage painting his face. 

And pain. 

You stiffened with him.

You did not have it in you that night to deal with one of Keigo’s explosive moments. 

“Endeavor has left us all with this message—”

The camera flashed to an old video of the old ‘number one hero’, healthy and strong with a fist raised in the air.

You braced for impact as Keigo stood, shoulders hunching over.

Endeavors voice washed over your living room,

“Go Plus Ultra!”

And Keigo, honest to god, shrieked.

He fell to his knees and beat the floor beneath him. He slammed his fists in the hardwood over, and over, and over again. You slipped to the ground with him, trying to grab at his fists.

“Keigo, you’re gonna hurt yourself—” You tried to tell him. You managed to capture one of his fists, urging it to stay down-

But, you looked up to see Keigo giving a feral look with a frenzied, white-hot sneer all for you. 

 And his free fist flew towards you. It connected hard and solidly to your jaw.

You hadn’t been expecting it. Keigo had never struck you before, not even close. For fucks sake, he had never even raised his voice at you before his injury.

So, how could you expect to brace yourself for it?

The force of Keigo’s blow knocked you back. You jolted, falling onto your side and turning your head to the side, away from Keigo.

You brought a hand up to cup and shield your face, your jaw and eye socket throbbing. 

All you could feel was shock.

And sadness.

And horror.

And anger.

And terror.

 Keigo snapped out of it.

The news report was still playing, but he couldn’t hear it.

There was only the rushing of blood in his ears.

His mouth turned bone dry.

He had watched you move with his strike, falling more to the ground, hiding yourself—

“Oh my g-god, (Y/N),” Keigo’s voice was slippery and warbling. “I-I d-didn’t—” 

“No,” You stood up, still holding and hiding your face from him. His heart was crumbling in his chest.

You looked at him with only fear and heartbreak.

Keigo scrambled up, trying to apologize, hold you, mend this before it got worse—

But you put the hand that wasn’t cupping your face out, just barely touching his chest. You refused to let him any closer. 

“H-hey Kei’?” Your voice sounded so, so shaky. It’s hardly there. You were holding back tears and it was so obvious. It made every part of Keigo burn with shame. “I can’t today. Maybe another day, I could deal with this, y-ya know? But not today, okay? Have a g-good night.”

You walked away before he could say anything else.

 You dashed off to the guest room, shutting and locking the door before falling against it and breaking. You cried and rocked yourself as you tried to self-soothe your shattered body and mind. 

The month prior had been so hard. The person you love was hurt so deeply, and though you were trying with everything you had to help, it didn’t seem like enough. You were getting verbally beat up semi-frequently and now Keigo had fucking hit you. 

You were scared. You were terrified that this would become the norm. That Keigo’s outbursts would continue to worsen, as they had been, and you would become a physical punching bag for him.

It especially hurt because you were trying so hard to help Keigo. 

You weren’t delusional enough to think you could really fix him, were you? 

The fact that you were secretly and silently trying to regenerate Keigo’s body with a quirk he didn’t even know you had struck you bluntly in your mind.

“I’m just so fucked up, aren’t I?” You laughed and sobbed to yourself at the same time, slamming your head backward on the door, relishes the pain that floods your skull. It was a reprieve from the bruises blooming across your cheekbone. 

You eventually managed to cry yourself to sleep, literally. You curled up in a ball on the floor next to the door, worn down to the bone.

 In the early morning, far before dawn, you pulled yourself into half-wakefulness. 

You were relentless and you were coming to hate yourself for it.

You needed to work on Keigo, no matter how you shitty felt.

You crept into the master bedroom, trying to be silent. You didn’t want to wake him. Only when you were fully in the room did you notice a soft lamp is still on despite it being early, early morning. 

Wide awake and upright, Keigo looked horrified to see you. He looked at you, shaking and half-sobbing into a pillow he clutched to his chest.

You both seemed shocked to see each other. 

You sniffled as you turned off the lamp, stripping down to just a t-shirt and panties before climbing into your side of the bed.

You refused to face him while he was awake. You got as comfortable as you could (which wasn’t much). 

There was half an hour of disgustingly awkward silence. It coated the room, bearing the two of you who refused to sleep. 

“I’m s-sorry,” Keigo had yet to move. He was frozen in place as you were turned away from him in the dark. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

Silence.

Your mouth felt dry and your mind parched. 

“Keigo,” You spoke like a being empty. You truly felt like it too. “If you ever touch me like that again, I will do worse than just leave you.”

It was a threat.

You let yourself have it, in all of this. You deserved one low blow. 

Keigo slowly slid down into the covers, babbling apologies and beginning to cry again. 

“Stop, Kei’,” You finally turned towards him, cupping his face. He blinked at you, eyes wide and glassy. “I love you. Just stop. Apologizing doesn’t make something like this better. I can’t do this if you keep hurting me, you know that. Just be better.”

Keigo winced at that. He knew it was true, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful.

You fell asleep on each other that night. You let your headrest nestled up against Keigo’s chest. He breathed softly above you, arms wrapped securely around you, holding you tightly like he was afraid you’d leave. You wouldn’t. You made the decision to stay at the beginning of all this. Your threats would always be empty. 

Idly, you had an arm thrown over Keigo’s waist, snaking up the back of his shirt to press your fingertips against his scars. Your roots and greenery didn’t have to go as deep now, as far as you could tell.

But, it had been a month with no discernable progress, visual or otherwise. 

But, you held onto hope. 

Because you had to hold onto hope that Keigo would get better. 

All of him.

 -------------------------------

      The second month was... different. 

Keigo tried with his whole heart to earn back your trust.

You flinched at him for the first week or so. 

He hated himself so fucking much each time you did. But, he never blamed you. He couldn’t.

(Even as you twitched away from him in the daylight, you tirelessly worked on his scars in his sleep. You couldn’t give up, no matter how awful you felt). 

Keigo did his exercises several times a day. He made a few more media appearances but refused to be seen with Endeavor. He (and truthfully, the Commission) knew that he could not psychologically handle it.

You were rapidly getting weaker, but you didn’t care. You ate more, slept when you could, and pushed on. You were up to three hours of healing a night. Tears rolled down your cheeks the whole time.

You were clinging to the prayer that you could unburn Keigo’s back like it would save you from your personally made hell. 

This was despite the fact he was already crawling out of the pit himself. 

 Your existence was eased slightly as Keigo was starting to help out more. 

Keigo wasn’t anywhere near normal— normal Keigo was dead in a disintegrated building, miles from your shared home. But, he was getting better.

 His muscles felt better. He wasn’t sure how, but they did. His PT exercises must’ve been working. The outbursts he had thrown so often during the first month pittered out to maybe once or twice a week. They were calmer now. You were still his anchor, of course, that was undeniable. But, it was mostly crying and clutching and not screaming and breaking.

It was a welcome shift.

Most of the time, Keigo would pull you into his lap and wrap you in his embrace. Softly, he’d sway and rock the two of you, like he was trying to lull and calm not just himself, but you in tandem.

A lot of the time, this was true. 

Your flinching subsided and Keigo had no more close calls with any physical violence towards you. In a few high strung moments, he still snapped at you. He’d apologize, and do better. At least, you told yourself that. That’s how you saw it anyways. 

Keigo was thoroughly traumatized. His mind was an open nerve and that had consequences. You were so endlessly tired. What kind of wounds and trauma were you incurring?

You forced yourself not to think about it. 

 Part of you, during this month, wanted to simply pack a bag and leave without a trace. 

But, you stayed with Keigo. You stayed determined. 

(Or, you stayed out of spite. On your bad days, you really had trouble figuring it out.)

Your body looked like shit. You were endlessly glad Keigo still wasn’t in a position to be having any sort of sex because he probably would’ve noticed how fucked up your body was getting.

You shook constantly, always quaking like a leaf in a rainstorm. Your skin bruised with almost any contact beyond light touch. Your eyes, once vibrant and expressive, had sunk in. 

Your body, no matter the several thousand extra calories you forced yourself to eat a day, still ran through your fat reserves. It was leeching muscle from you. It made your joints feel raw. 

 It almost hurts that you noticed how Keigo is so pained, but he didn’t notice you falling apart.

 -----------------------

      The third month was when shit hit the fan.

It was near the end of the month. 

You were doing so badly. You stretched yourself far beyond your body's abilities. 

You felt particularly sick, but you needed to get groceries. Keigo couldn’t himself for a host of reasons, which made it your job. You kissed him on the cheek as you left for the market.

Meanwhile, Keigo’s physical therapist dropped by for a check-in appointment. 

Keigo did his exercises beautifully. He had to admit, his muscles didn’t ache in nearly the same way they used to. They only really hurt when the weather changed, like he was some old, arthritic man. 

“Wow!” His therapist gasped, watching him complete his exercises. “It’s looking great, Hawks. It looks like you’ve gained back a lot of strength.”

The small amount of praise made him beam as he sat up. 

“I just want to check the actual wounds around your back, if that’s alright? Just feel the scar tissue,” The therapist asked. Keigo bit his lip, slowly pulling off his tee-shirt. He didn’t like the idea of anyone’s hands being that close to the intimate roots of his dead wings. 

But, it was necessary.

Keigo faced his back to her.

All he got was an audible gasp as the therapist’s hands traced at his spine.

“The progress back here- Hawks this is insane,” The other was alight, pressing a thumb somewhere near the root. It hardly even hurt. “The scar tissue— it’s not gone, but it's a lot more tender than it should be. Like it's actually healing.”

“Is that why it doesn’t hurt so bad?” Keigo asked, letting a few slivers of joy light him up from the inside out. During his initial prognosis, multiple doctors had said that he was going to be on fire for years, not months. 

The therapist nodded, “Looks like it. Even the scarring on the surface looks pretty good. Must have some damn good genes to be healing like this.”

The two laughed, Keigo feeling more lighthearted than he had in months. 

 You, on the other hand, were greatly struggling. 

You were so, so fucking cold; yet another bi-product of your overextension. You were wrapped in an oversized cardigan on top of one of Keigo’s mock necks. You couldn’t stop trembling as you try to shop as quickly and effectively as possible. Anything to get you home as soon as possible. 

You had a great deal of difficulty doing this, though.

If you moved too fast, your vision blacked out. It had been like that for a while, a week or two. You’d lost track. You figured it was your iron, maybe blood pressure. 

It was an easy thing to hide at home, but much harder in public.

You reached for something high on a metal shelf, tossing it into your cart. You needed another item, on the bottom shelf. You dropped to your knees, your body aching and rolling.

Almost done.

So close. 

Then you can go home and rest.

You stood up too fast. Your vision went black ringed for a second. You stumble, trying to catch yourself as you lost sight. 

You felt weightless for a moment, spinning, Though your limbs felt weighed down, impossible to move. As your vision returned, its field wouldn’t move, pointed up at the ceiling of the crowded market. 

There were people speaking, shouting around you.

Alarmed.

Speaking to you?

You didn’t care.

You were so, so tired.

You let your eyes slip shut.

 ------------ 

 Keigo had been waiting for you for several hours longer than it took to go grocery shopping, sure. And, to have you gone from the apartment so long made him itch too. It had been eating him, making him pace around. You hadn’t been answering your phone either. He figured you had made a detour and let your phone die.

 When he received a call from the local civilian hospital about you, he feels his blood freeze in his veins. 

“You’re listed here as (Y/N)’s emergency contact as a partner, yes?” The nurse asked. “They collapsed at a local market. They’re stable, but we’d recommend coming to the hospital as soon as you’re able to.” 

Keigo nodded, head swimming.

You’re hurt.

You’re safe, but you’re hurt.

...

Keigo was whisked to the back of the hospital in a poor disguise. He gets recognized, given some extra security. The scar that marred his face was enough of a marker even if he didn’t have wings. He hardly cared. He couldn’t. 

Your door opened to a very dark room, soft beeps and hums filling it. 

He imagined that he must've been feeling close to how you felt, seeing him in such a similar position those few months ago.

The nurse enters ahead of him, clicking around on a tablet to pull up your chart.

Keigo could hardly pay attention. He felt like he was going to die, seeing you like that.

You had an IV, pushing fluids into your thinned arms. Your face was hollow looking, sockets sunken, especially with your eyes closed like they were. You had several blankets on you, piled over you. Yet, you were still visibly shivering.

The nurse whispered, “They’ve been asleep for a while now. A doctor will be in soon. Just sit tight.”

She left the room while Keigo pulled a chair up to your bed. 

The smell of the hospital burned his nose. It reminded him far too much of his own time. All that pain. 

The ache in his back flared, but he figured it was somatic.

 Keigo reached out as he sat, holding one of your frail-looking hands in both of his own (had you looked this purely death stricken this morning? Keigo couldn’t recall either way, and he hates himself for it).

Your eyes slowly opened.

 Keigo met your gaze, breath caught in both of your throats.

Neither of you got a chance to speak, not a moment of fucking comfort, before a doctor barged in, flipping through your chart with a bored look on his face.

“We finished up your testing. Lucky for you, no concussion or fractures from your fall,” The doctor nods. He doesn’t even seem to notice Keigo, or rather, Hawks. “The rest of your results aren’t looking so great though.”

Your hand stiffened violently in Keigo’s grip. Your face went from worn and exhausted to filled with terror and... guilt?

 You were fucked.

The doctors and nurses had mentioned to you that they were fairly certain that all of your symptoms came from quirk overuse. You started weakly crying at that, your nurses looking confused. You didn’t elaborate then. You knew, the moment you woke up in the hospital that you were going to have to confront your own damage to your body.

You were going to be forced to explain it.

To Keigo.

The doctor continued. 

“Low levels of nearly all essential vitamins and minerals. Particularly low iron, magnesium, and potassium. In general, your test results and physical state would lead me to think you’re suffering from malnutrition. But, your panel shows that your metabolic rate is actually going abnormally quickly in a way that could only be linked to-”

Wait for it.

“Quirk overuse-”

Keigo barked out a laugh, letting go of your hand, “I’m sorry, but what? They’re quirkless, it has to be something else.”

 You didn’t say anything. Your eyes, glassy and unfocused, are trained on your lap. You’re taking sharp, quick breaths.

You’re going to have to tell him everything.

 The doctor flips through your chart again, shaking his head and bringing it over for Keigo to look at, “I apologize if this seems out of turn, but they’re listed in the public files as having a quirk... It’s marked as a weak healing quirk, but all the same, any strength of quirk has overuse.”

Keigo is stone still.

There’s tension so thick in the air of the room that the doctor excuses himself. 

 Keigo, for months now, had been in a traumatized stupor. His normally sharpened senses, aided by his wings, were the key to so much of his cunning. Both his physical and mental states were affected, which had made him less observant.

It had caused him to disregard so much. 

 But now, in your stupid, acrid hospital room, he was quickly putting it together. 

His back burned again. 

 You felt frozen. You couldn’t force yourself to move. You couldn’t do anything other than look at your lap and roll in your head. Your body hurt so bad, your head hurt too, and so did your fucking heart.

 “Can I clarify? Because I think I have an idea of what’s going on.”  Keigo had physically moved away from you. He leaned back in his chair, staring down with a mix of expressions you couldn’t suss out. It made you feel even sicker.

You nodded.

“Breath, (Y/N),” Keigo reminded you. He watched you take a massive inhale, followed by tears beginning to gather. You still wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

 “Have you been... using your quirk on me? Without me knowing?” Keigo asked, trying to keep his voice firm, but truthfully, it wanted to waver and bend so badly. “Please be honest.”

You nod, breaking down to rub at your eyes. 

Keigo doesn’t stop the instinctual way he moved towards you, leaning over your bed and wrapping his arms around me.

With his cheek pressed to the top of your head, he broke the illusion:

“Please tell me what’s going on. Please.”

And so, you did.

It came out tearfully, you spilling and cracking as you did. You felt stupid and guilty and awful, but at least you were out of this fucked up lie. 

It all poured out of you. Your fear and your desperation were all laid out and Keigo was reading the cards.  

You explained that your quirk has always been weak in addition to taxing on the body. Hence, you had seldom, if ever, used it as an adult. You were effectively quirkless and you were okay with that. Keigo had never asked so you never told him. 

You tell him, voice shaking, what happened the night Keigo had pleaded with you to kill him.

“I-I, Kei’,” You push out, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I didn’t know what to do. You were so hurt and so sad and I had this stupid fucking idea that maybe, maybe I could use to my quirk to heal you.”

Keigo’s breath catches. He doesn’t say anything for a moment before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me? Ask me?”

“I didn’t know if it would work. I still don’t know if it does. It didn’t wanna... I didn’t want to get your hopes up. E-especially since it would’ve been coming from me.” You pressed harder into him like you’re scared of him disappearing. “You were already so crushed.”

Keigo didn’t know what to say. There was a swirl of emotions bubbling and writhing in his body and mind and he didn’t know what to say for the first time in a long time.

 So he didn’t say anything.

Keigo sat back in his chair, putting his elbows to his knees, using folded hands to rest his head on, parsing through his own feelings.

“K-Keigo?” You asked, wiping a tear away. As much as Keigo hated seeing you like this, he also recognized your state was by your hand. 

Right?

“Sweetheart, I love you—” Keigo stopped himself, sighing deep in his chest. “But, I can’t... I just need some time.”

 You nodded, tears coming back to drip down your face.

Keigo just watched with a neutral expression.

 -----------------

 Despite not being able to handle talking to you, Keigo was more than willing to help you out of the hospital. You were discharged with a prescribed diet and vitamins as well as a followup appointment in a few weeks. 

“And, most importantly,” The doctor made eye contact with you. “Don’t use that quirk of yours until further notice. Honestly, with it being so destructive, I can’t understand why you would in the first place.”

You burned with shame.

The night you came back from the hospital, Keigo took incredible care of you. He didn’t talk much during it, not to you anyways. He was nearly constantly speaking under his breath, all unintelligible. From his tone and myriad of expressions, you guessed he was verbally processing. 

Keigo gingerly gave you a bath, scrubbing away the smells and stickiness of the hospital. He managed to cook you one of the nutritious recipes you had shown him a few weeks ago. You sheepishly had to ask for another portion, explaining how your metabolism burned so quickly.

“Have...” Keigo finally spoke while making you another plate. “Have you always been eating this much?”

You nodded, sipping your water, “For a long time, yes.”

He hated himself for not noticing such obvious things. 

 Keigo kept carrying you from place to place, no matter how much his back hurt. He didn’t care. He couldn’t.

He laid you in bed at some point, sliding in next to you. He still hadn’t spoken much since you’d left the hospital. 

You had tried to babble apologies and beg for forgiveness, but selfishly, Keigo wasn’t listening. He was trapped in his own head. Even when you clung to him in the bath, he could hardly make himself hold you up from sliding too far into the water. 

It almost hurt to touch you.

 It was late when Keigo finally verbally, directly regarded you. 

“Why?” Keigo asked. You’re both turned away from each other. The bed had been vibrating with your harsh breathing and crying for an hour or so now. “Why did you do all this?”

You stop shaking, but only for a moment.

Your voice is so soft, weak, “Please don’t blame yourself. It was my choice.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Keigo could hear the anger in his voice. “Why. Did. You. Do. This?”

You’re silent for a moment. 

And then you’re sitting up, yelling.

“Because I didn’t know what else to fucking do!” You gripped your hair at the roots, pulling. “You asked me to fucking kill you, Keigo! You begged me to!”

Keigo sat up, staring you down. He felt so much anger and rage in him, it was bubbling up, “That doesn’t mean you had to hurt yourself like this for me!”

“I didn’t want to hurt myself! I wanted to help you! Using my quirk was all I could do!” You looked over at him, digging your nails into your exposed thighs. “What else was I supposed to do!”

“Exactly what I thought you were doing, helping me!” Keigo screamed back at you. “You were doing so good at it!”

“You wanna know why I could even help?!” You shouted. You grabbed Keigo’s shoulders and brought him inches away from your face. “Because, every night, I got to give myself just a shred of hope that you would get better. That maybe, maybe your wings would come back and you’d smile like you used to instead of yelling at me, and hitting me, and asking me, begging me, to slit your fucking throat!”

 You couldn’t stop crying. Your body was so run down, so depleted, but it still musters up the energy to drip tears like a flooded creek. You wanted to run and leave the bed, retreat to the bathroom where you can break down on the tile in peace, alone where Keigo wouldn’t have to watch. You’d done it enough prior to know he wouldn’t check on you.

 Keigo stared at you with wide eyes. 

He didn’t know what to say at first

He was feeling so much—

 Keigo didn’t know what to do or say.

So, he just twisted the knife, one could say.

 “You should’ve just left if you were really that miserable with me.” Keigo regretted it the moment it left his lips. You tense up, looking at him with a gaze he could only call broken.

 “No,” You grabbed your shoulders, rocking yourself. “No, Kei’, I couldn’t, I won’t—”

“Then stop complaining.” Keigo shrugged. God, this was awful, wasn’t it? Why wouldn’t he just shut up? “You’re the one who stayed and tortured yourself. That’s on you.”

“So you’d rather have that I... left?”

“Duh,” Keigo laughed, staring down your crying form. You’re so decrepit in your current state. He hated looking at you, purely because he knows he was at least a portion of what led to this. But, he’d never admit it. “Fuck, (Y/N), you didn’t have to kill me, and you didn’t have to kill yourself either.” 

 He’s splitting inside as he watches you break in front of him. Some fucked up, sadistic part of him relishes it. The other, muted, more sane part is screaming at him to stop fucking talking-

“You really got yourself hospitalized for overusing a quirk on me that I didn’t even know you had. You were so desperately trying to get me my wings back, all while acting soooo supportive of me trying to live without them?!” Keigo bellowed at you. You cowered, bent legs beginning to slide off the bed — “Do you realize how fucked up that is? That, behind closed doors, while I was fucking asleep, you were trying to fix me? Well, guess what, (Y/N), I’m broken beyond fucking repair, and no cute little shit you pull is going to fix me!”

Keigo shrieked his last words.

You fell off the bed, slamming onto the floor. A sickening crack filled the room as your head, basically unsupported, met the hardwood.

 “Stop it!” You were screaming yourself silly from the floor. Your head hurt so badly. Maybe you were bleeding. You didn’t care. “Stop it!”

You knew you couldn’t handle this.

You were raw. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t confront any more than you had already that day. Your body hurt so badly and your mind hurt too. Everything Keigo said just rubbed salt in the wounds he helped to create.

“Keigo, just fucking stop it!”

Your vision spun. You thought that maybe you were hyperventilating. You couldn’t feel your hands, numbness beginning to pull at your extremities. 

“I’m fucking sorry!” You wailed. “What would do if you were in my position, Keigo?! Just watch me suffer and not do anything even if you could?!”

Keigo leaned over the bed, giving you the most empty look you’d ever seen him wear. 

“I would’ve just fucking left, (Y/N),” He spoke in a monotone, eyes like dead coals. “I would’ve just left.”

You stared up at him.

This horrible feeling had filled you from toes to top and you couldn’t escape it.

 Keigo didn’t say anything else as you panicked on the floor. He simply got up, left for the guest room, and slammed the door.

 Neither of you ever felt as awful as you did that night.

 --------------------

 Keigo didn’t sleep that night.

Neither did you.

 He figured (he hoped) you’d be gone by the morning. Maybe you would just pack your dusty suitcase and get the fuck out.

...

Truthfully, not a single fragment of Keigo wanted you to leave. No piece of him wanted you to go out of his life. God, if he really thought about it, the prospect of not being side-by-side in this world together threw him into bends of anxiety and pure grief. 

Truthfully, as Keigo silently, tearfully, examined your actions, he felt his anger ebb away.

He understood. 

Why you did what you did.

But it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. 

Guilt was eating him, too. For all the horrible things he had said. The things he’d done that hurt you without regard for months now. The fact he never noticed you deteriorating. And all the nights you crept back into your shared room, for comfort and to keep trying to help him, though perhaps cruelly. 

 It was dawn when Keigo exited the guestroom. He figured that you were either gone or would be soon.

He was clearly mistaken.

Keigo stopped when he saw you at the kitchen table, head down, and resting on your folded arms. You were wearing a huge sweater, one of his, and a blanket around your shoulders.

Keigo had, incredibly selfishly, somewhat forgotten your physical state.

He ached.

 “I made coffee,” You said quietly. You looked up, meeting Keigo’s gaze with bloodshot, puffy eyes. “It’s still warm.”

“Why are you here?” Keigo asked, heart starting to beat too fast again. “Why haven’t you left-?”

“Do you really want me to leave?” You asked with an unfamiliar edge to your voice. It’s not anger or malice, but something different. You stand, bracing yourself on the table, wobbling. Keigo wanted nothing more than to scoop you into his arms and apologize. But, he doesn’t. 

 You looked at him with this edge of fierce determination, asking the penultimate question, the core of this all, “Keigo, do you want me to leave because of my actions, or do you want me to leave because you don’t think you deserve help?”

There was a poignant quiet over the apartment. 

The birds of the new day interrupted it from outside, chirping with the eos of dawn.

“I don’t think... I—” Keigo was speechless again, stuttering. “You shouldn’t have hurt yourself so bad.”

“That’s been established, I went too far. I should’ve told you, offered and asked, and go from there. It ultimately was a complete breach of boundaries and for that, I’m sorry. Fuck my good intentions, it was selfish.” You squeezed the edge of the table, eyes low. Your gaze turned up sharply to meet his, that edge of determination and fierceness in it that Keigo was unfamiliar with. “My question is, do you want me to leave?”

Keigo stared at his feet. His head was swimming, “You should leave.”

“I asked if you want me to,” You asked again. You were being more firm than you had ever been. You sounded unbreakable. It was that stubbornness that kept you there with him, right?

Keigo met your eyes with a sharp glare, “You should’ve left the night I asked you to kill me.”

You sighed, shaking visibly, but still keeping yourself so strong, “Please just answer me. Do you want me to leave? If we’re going to break up, let’s just call it that, and get it over with, okay Kei’?”

Oh, hearing you say ‘breakup’—

That broke Keigo. 

Having to truly think and reckon with a reality where you weren’t with him and you weren’t facing the horrors of the world together was purely the stuff of nightmares. 

The stupid little facade Keigo had so carefully crafted broke. The burns on his body started to ache anew, somatically. The scar over his eye twitched as tears were gathering anew. 

“N-no,” Keigo hugged himself, shaking his head. “N-no— I don’t want you to go—” 

You didn’t say anything, just watched him with a sad expression.

“Then I won’t.” You sat back down. “Keigo, I know that this is all fucked beyond belief. I know. But, I won’t leave. I really, really don’t want to. I won’t, not unless you want me to go.”

And Keigo was breaking for you again. 

He somehow stumbled next to your chair, managing to fall to his knees and rest his head on your cold, cold thigh. He pressed his nose into your flesh, trying to fucking absorb your smell like you could disappear any moment. 

“Why did you do it-” Keigo sobbed into your skin, nails biting in the flesh of your calves. It made you jerk in your seat. “WHY DID YOU HURT YOURSELF FOR ME!”

You didn’t have a good answer for him, so you didn’t reply. 

Keigo’s grip on the flesh of his leg started to break skin as he wailed into your leg.

You just looked down at him with this expression of pure remorse,  melancholy coloring your eyes.

You grabbed his clawed-hands, recalling the last time you tried a move like this with a twitch. You held his hands in your own, pulling him up, “You can’t do that, Keigo. You’re hurting me.”

“All I DO is hurt YOU!” Keigo crushed you into a tight hug, knocking the wind from you. You jolt forward into his death grip. 

 “It was my choice,” You remind him, so much weakness in your choice. “A very, very selfish one. If I was going to try to heal you, I should’ve asked.”

You started crying with him. 

You both were just torturing yourselves, truthfully. 

 At his core, Keigo was a fucked up man who was so thoroughly repressed and manipulated, it was hard to see his psychological shortcomings. They were all so meticulously hidden. 

But not then, not after losing his wings.

“I’m so fucked up,” Keigo kept crying into you as you had his hands locked together. “I hate myself for being this upset at you when you were trying to help me.”

“Love,” Your voice was so soft, releasing Keigo’s hands to pet his hair. “It wasn’t right for me to try and do what I did. You can’t help how you feel.”

“I could before I lost them!” Keigo muffled himself with your flesh.

Them being his wings, obviously. 

You hauled him upwards, forcing him to sit in your lap. Keigo had always had a bit of size on you, but in your shrunken state, it was even more pronounced. 

“Then you weren’t feeling,” You pressed your face to Keigo’s chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. He entangled himself with you, and you both just held each other for a long, long time.

 ------------------------

In the following six months, a many very important things happen.

Keigo got a place for you for two entire months, just so you two have some separation. After actually having a calm talk about your relationship dynamic since Keigo’s injury, it was comically apparent there were so many fucked up things that had happened and that you both needed a bit of time to collect yourselves.

It was a hard separation, but you still see each other at least half of the days of your time apart, and even a few that you snuck over for the night to stay over. Keigo was so, so thankful. Being wrapped in each other was a different experience, something actually healing. 

You both got therapists, next. A couples therapist too. 

Thank God. 

Keigo had oodles of trauma to sort through, and you had your own shit to deal with as well. Not to mention the whole ‘Keigo being a dick to you because he was hurt doesn’t justify it’ kinda broke your brain for a second. Also, Keigo having to process ‘he was capital A abusive to you after he got hurt, and your only stability being the hope in healing you is much more complicated than just them trying to ‘fix’ you’ was a case of note. 

It was weird, really. 

 When you moved back, fully, to Keigo’s (you weren’t sure if you could call it ‘your’ apartment anymore), it was nerve-wracking. It was under the understanding that you could move out if you needed to, that separation and an ending were just a corner away.

It made you feel more unstable than you had in months, but you kept up with it. 

Keigo noticed, much more observant than he had been. About two weeks into you returning to the apartment, he asked the question, “What if we moved?”

You had been quietly eating your breakfast, but this startled you, “Move? Why?”

“I mean,” Keigo sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. His gaze flickered to the living room, recalling the times he broke down and was so awful to you. It shifted to the bedroom door where you broke boundaries over and over. “A lot of bad stuff happened here. If we’re going to have a fresh start, might as well live somewhere new, right?”

You mused on it for a moment, then nodded, “Yeah, that would be good.”

The next few weeks were the most healthy and productive that you and Keigo ever had, pre- or post-injury. Apartment hunting turned into purchasing a two-floored, highrise, insanely nice condo across the city. Keigo suggested buying a house, but you refused. You both liked the views too much to live somewhere so close to the ground.

You packed your things, mutually. You both threw away plenty, bits and bobs that had been relatively unused for a long time. Lots of old memories were thrown out to make way for new ones. Though it was sad and there was plenty of grief in it, you actually had each other this time. 

When you found Keigo sobbing, clutching an old picture of him and Touya, one of the only of him from his childhood with the Commission, you held him and rocked him. You cried with him, not just settling for ‘dealing’ with him anymore. 

When you cleaned out the kitchen, you found the two dozen extra vitamins and extracts you had been taking while healing Keigo. You stared at him, idly, for ten minutes, somewhere far off in your head. Keigo came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. Softly, he pulled you back from your mind. He helped you throw away each bottle, talking reverently to you so your gaze and mind would stay in that moment, and not those past and unsavory.  

You helped each other, or, were learning to.

 You and Keigo both had to agree that shopping for furniture was probably the most fun the two of you had in a while. With a facemask and a beanie on, Keigo appeared a lot less like his former self, allowing for the two of you to covertly search for new homewares without prying crowds.

The old apartment had originally been Keigo’s from his early years of being a hero. You simply moved in with him, adding yourself to his space. This time, you were making it together. 

 “What do you think of this one?” You turned to Keigo, next to you. Both of you laid on top of a fairly nice mattress, the store relatively empty aside from the employees and the two of you.

“I think it's good, it’s not too soft,” Keigo turned and smiled at you, speaking from behind his mask. 

You couldn’t help sitting up, tugging the cloth mask just a bit lower to drop a sweet kiss on the side of his mouth, “Get out the credit card then, babe.”

 The condo was sorted within a few weeks, full of furniture and slowly being decorated. 

You also had the opportunity to christen the mattress, if you will.

...

How long had it been since you and Keigo had laid together like this? 

Your bodies were sticky with sweat and cum, several rounds having passed throughout the night. Your new mattress was going to need a fresh change of sheets after this.

“Hey, angel, come over here,” Keigo tugged you closer to him, laying your head on his chest. You smiled softly, pressing closer. You missed it, truly, the warmth of his body and the feeling of his skin on your own like this.

“Alright, check-in,” Keigo pressed a kiss to your damp forehead. “You feeling okay?”

“I feel great,” You hummed, throwing a leg over his waist. “I can honestly keep going.”

“Should you?” Keigo raised an eyebrow and chuckled, nudging a knee between your legs. You flinched, knowing how sore you’d be in the morning already. 

Though your body had recovered somewhat, you weren’t fully back to where you were before Keigo’s injury. You didn’t mind, though. Keigo had taken to doting on you a bit more than he used to. 

You shrugged and Keigo just chuckled, bringing you ever-closer. 

“Are you okay?” You straddled Keigo’s hips, cocking your head to one side. 

Keigo was silent for a moment, stormy almost. He bit his lip, tracing hands and eyes over your figure, finally landing on your face. His softened hands cupped your jaw. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” His thumb rubbed over your lips. There’s something so melancholic about him. “I just missed you.”

You knew exactly what he meant by ‘miss’.

 It was a feeling beyond sex, but rather intimacy. Sure, Keigo had been balls deep in you for the first time in months and that was ecstasy you wouldn’t trade the world for. But, this feeling Keigo regarded was different.

It had been so long since the two of you had been so softened around each other.

Guards, after months of being raised high, had begun to fall.

  Thank God.

 Your eyes watered as you lowered your face to his, ghosting your lips over his, “I missed you too, Kei’. I missed you so, so much.”

 How many minutes of hell had your both endured? And how many were there still to go? Thoughts of fear and anguish constantly swirled within the two of you for so long. They certainly hadn’t stopped, but they were lessening. Therapy helped. Being in the new place with a fresh start did wonders for the two you. Keigo’s passion for cooking continued to grow and you had taken up a few new hobbies of your own. 

It was the mundane, you supposed, that was the stitching for broken relationships. The real healing of proverbial flesh and bone was intimacy, vulnerability, and love.

“Hey, Kei’,” You kissed him breathless, once, twice, three times. “I love you, you know? A lot.”

“Yeah?” Keigo giggled, something high and light that he wouldn’t have released a year ago. “I love you too. So much.”

 The night continued in tender fucking, the two of you visibly watching wounds begin to grow smaller and scar, no more fire, and no more forced stitchings. 

Salvation came from time and small things, you supposed, half-asleep and nestled neck to Keigo, feeling better than you had in a long time.  

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

     You supposed, some time later, that karma gave the two of you a small gift. In the eyes of all things, it must’ve been just a spec, but God, it was something. 

     ...

They had come back over a year and half from when you had tried to heal Keigo. 

The attempt wasn’t forgotten, no, but it certainly wasn’t at the forefront of your minds like it used to be. Except the one morning that Keigo got up before you, sleepily yawning his way to the bathroom.

You heard his sharp gasp, loud exclamations in your half asleep state.

“Babe?” Your voice hoarse with sleep, you spoke. “You okay?”

Keigo jumped onto the bed, straddling over you and the comforter. 

“(Y/N)!” Oh, his eyes were wet. Soft, gooey tears were streaming down his face as he shakily grabbed your wrists. He pressed them to the scars of his back.

Your eyes went wide as your hands brushed against small, soft feathers. 

“Keigo!” You shouted, sitting up, urging him to turn around so you could take a better look. 

Keigo trembled as he bared his back to you. 

Your breath caught as your hands trailed down his marred flesh.

The scars, old and worn now, had faded a great deal. The charred plain calmed with time, perhaps by your own touch and very much so by Keigo’s own cells and flesh.

But, in the center of his back, where the roots of his wings once were, was something growing anew.

Small, burgundy feathers were growing from spindly looking, down-covered bones and skin.

They were small, nothing like his old wings. More aged, with their darker color. The feathers felt softer as you ran your hands along the largest, no bigger than your hand from wrist to tip.

Keigo shuddered.

“Do... Do they feel like they used to?” You asked, transfixed.

Keigo shakily shook his head, “N-no, they feel less sensitive I think. They feel different.”

...

 As Keigo had healed and changed, so had his body.

His wings never grew to their own old size and power, not even close. They couldn’t support his own body weight, so Keigo never flew again. But, the feathers, wine-colored and almost bruised looking, could be sent to do small tasks, much like his old ones.  

At first, it seemed cruel. After so long and so much, his wings grew back but in such a decrepit form. For days, the two of you waited and waited to see what the final form of his regrowth would be. In the end, at their best, they stretched out to about the span of Keigo’s arms. The feathers weren’t symmetrical either, even at their peak regrowth. Some grew in fluffy and rounded, while others were jagged, sticking out awkwardly from the rest of his form. 

Over time, the inherent disappointment and despondence turned into appreciation.

Because they had come back, it just took time. 

...

With enough time, Keigo wore them proudly, no matter how oddly they stuck out from his marred skin. Keigo’s body was still too damaged to do hero work proper, but he still was kept around.

At the end of the day, the feathers colored like dried blood represented something far larger. If the completely destroyed number two hero could come back to even a fraction of his former, angelic glory, that was something, right?

It was like in the eyes of all things, you were both awarded a physical manifestation of healing. The gnarly wings that grew from Keigo’s body may have been off-putting to some, but to the two of you, it was a testament to it all.

It just took time. 

[moonbeamwritings]

one missed call

Summary: You were haunted by what happened in Egypt. The loss of your friends and the disconnect from the others that came in the years afterwards weighed heavily on your mind. One night, after a horrible day at work, you find that you received a voicemail from someone you never thought you’d hear from again: Jotaro Kujo.

Author’s Note: This is a little different from what I normally post. A little less fluff, a little more angst. There are very brief mentions of blood, but they’re vague. Let me know what you think!

The second you stepped through your apartment door and closed it, you slumped back with a sigh. “Worst day ever,” you spoke aloud. Kicking off your shoes and dropping your bag, you collapsed onto your couch, relishing in the silence of your living room.

This time of year was always… difficult, to say the least. Not only were the holidays beyond stressful in and of themselves, but you were reminded, more so than any other time of year, of the loss of your dear friends.

Every night over the past week had graced you with images of gore, the rush of blood and water, and the whirring screech of an ambulance coupled with the muffled voices of Speedwagon Foundation medics, their hushed conversations blaring in your ears despite their quiet tones.

“Noriaki Kakyoin. Time of death approximately-”

You shook the thought from your head, feeling all the more sick to your stomach. Your day at work hadn’t been easy given your current state, but your boss refused reason, seemingly working you harder knowing that you were suffering. You were tired, in more ways than one.

You flicked the television on and disappeared down the hallway. If I’m gonna be upset, you thought, I might as well be comfortable. Tugging a warm, soft sweater over your head and a pair of sweatpants up your legs, you were ready to tackle whatever horrible tv show was on and whatever leftovers you had in the fridge.

You reheated some take-out you’d had over the weekend and dropped back onto the couch, mind slowly shutting down at the sight of a brainless, campy reality tv show on one of the stations. Perfect.

Your position on the couch gave you a clear view of your phone, resting on a small table across the room.

Blink blink. Blink blink.

The green answering machine light was on, which almost never happened. Nobody calls me, you thought curiously. You muted the tv and made your way over to the phone, a funny feeling bubbling in your stomach.

Clicking play, you felt your heart stop in your chest, completely ceasing to beat as it knocked the air from your lungs.

“Hi,” a deep, smooth voice spoke through the phone, “This is Jotaro Kujo. I hope I’ve reached the right number.”

Your mouth fell open as you heard him. It was really him. You hadn’t spoken to Jotaro since you last saw him at the airport in Egypt, 10 years ago. You would scoff if you didn’t miss him so damn much. Back then, he’d looked at you like he had something to say, but it seemed as though he opted to bite his tongue. When Polnareff had pulled you all into a group hug before returning to France, you had a sinking feeling in your chest. DIO had been defeated, sure, but something still didn’t seem right.

You moved on, as they all seemed to. You returned home, you went back to some semblance of normalcy despite the nightmares, the loneliness. You had half a mind to be pissed, to ignore the phone call and to kick Jotaro out of your life for good, dealing with the spiraling thoughts all on your own. You couldn’t do it anymore, though, and that’s what compelled you to hang on to his every word.

“I, um-” There was a pregnant pause, almost so long that you had assumed he hung up, “I hope you’re doing well.” He let out a short laugh. There was no joy in it. “Well, as good as you can be, I guess.”

“I wanted to call to apologize. Leaving you in the dark for so long, letting you live with the grief all on your own, knowing that I was going through the same things. It never sat well with me. The old man said that just telling you what’s been going through my head might help, even if you tell me to fuck off. I know my emotions are nowhere near as obvious as I think they are.”

You felt your heart start to beat again, slowly going faster and faster until it was little more than hammering in your chest.

“Yare yare daze, I guess I just-” Jotaro cut himself off again, a creak in a chair sounded in the background, “I couldn’t handle it. I know it’s a pathetic excuse and I know you must be angry with me. You might not even listen to this message. I wouldn’t be upset if you didn’t.”

How could I not, you thought in silent response.

“I just couldn’t bring myself to reach out, well, until now. You reminded me of everything I felt like I couldn’t have, what I can’t have.”

You found your brows creasing in confusion.

“I was in love with you back then.” Another mirthless laugh, a beat of silence. “I guess I still am. That’s why I called. Look, I’m sorry for going radio silent, for not reaching out… for everything. I was afraid and I felt like I didn’t deserve you.”

Hot, wet tears began racing down your cheeks and you had to place a hand over your mouth to stifle a sob. You closed your eyes as the message played on.

“I don’t deserve you. I’m being selfish, but I can’t do this anymore. I need to see you, if you’ll have me.” The call fell silent again and you could swear you heard Jotaro let out a soft sound, a sniffle followed by a clearing of his throat. When he returned to the phone, you could hear the emotion in his voice.

“I’m sorry. If you get this, give me a call. Bye.”

With the click of the phone, your living room was plunged into silence, save for the sound of your soft cries. You furiously wiped at your tears as they fell, walking back to sit down on the couch to will your heart to just slow down, if only for a minute.

Your mind was reeling, sending your whole world spiraling upside down. All over just one phone call.

He’d been in love with you? Then, and even now?

It was hard to believe, which made the whole situation that much worse. Why now? Why in this way? Had he, too, been thinking about that fateful trip to Egypt all those years ago? Was November and December just as difficult for him as it was for you?

It was painful, dealing with endless thoughts all while fat, salty tears raced down your face, dampening the sleeves of your sweater with every swipe at your eyes. You leaned back against the armrest, losing yourself in the nonexistent patterns decorating your ceiling.

Thinking back now, perhaps all this time spent with no word from him was so upsetting all because you were in love with him. How stupid, you blubbered, to be thrust into such an emotional upheaval all over a boy you’d fallen in love with at 17. It’s not fair.

He hadn’t even called, or tried to. He had ten years to do so and clearly he knew someone who could connect him to you. You rolled your eyes at the thought of the Speedwagon Foundation’s involvement in all of this. It was frustrating, racing back and forth between anger, sadness, and elation.

You resolved to deal with this mess tomorrow. Maybe sleep will help, you thought as you tucked yourself into bed, eager to shut your eyes.

Sleep did not come so easily because of course it didn’t. Echoes of his words rattled in your mind, playing on a loop as if to torment you, to make your nights even more sleepless. 

Before you knew it, the sun was up.

As if to give you some sort of reprieve, you were off from work. A small treat from the universe to say, you can rest, just this once.

You practically dragged your body down the hallway, eyes stinging with a lack of sleep and unshed tears. With breakfast sorted, you sat down to listen to the voicemail again. You weren’t sure if you were just trying to make yourself more upset or if the warm, orange glow of the sun shining through your blinds would bring you some form of clarity.

The second time through did little else but convince you that you needed to talk to Jotaro, no matter how painful it may end up being.

With a shaking hand, you reached out to dial his number, taking each digit slowly as a way to delay the inevitable. The line began to ring and you could almost feel your mouth running dry, the thudding of your heart threatening to burst your chest open. You bit your lip in a futile attempt to keep the water in your eyes from spilling over.

After four rings, you could hear Jotaro answer, “Hello?”

The ringing in your ears, the pounding in your heart, they didn’t stop with the sound of his voice.

“Uh hi, Jotaro? It’s me.”

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Unfaithful | Part Five

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2005

Warnings: angst, lots of angst, drunk priest, bad friend 

A/N: Please be warned there will be some themes of toxic/abusive relationship in this series. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Four | Masterlist

- - - - -

I can’t sleep. 

Half excited for my hen party, and half nervous for the talk I know I need to have with the priest. 

I spend hours lying awake imagining how the conversation will go, all the possible outcomes. I must of drifted off some time in the early hours because I'm awakened at 9am by a text from Daniel: 

‘You looked so peaceful when I left for work I didn’t want to disturb you. But I just realised that since I’m going straight out with the boys for my stag do later, the next time we see each other I’ll be in my suit and you’ll be in your dress walking down the aisle to me. I can’t wait. Enjoy the fundraiser and have and wonderful hen party tonight. I love you Mrs Davison xxx’

The text makes me smile, until I read the last sentence. ‘Mrs Davison’ send a panic rushing through me. This suddenly all feels very real. I’m getting married tomorrow. I take a deep breath. It’s fine. I'm fine. This is just pre-wedding nerves. Completely normal. 

I take another deep breath and get out of bed. 

— — — — 

“Ah Y/N! You’re here” Pam greets me at the church doors and swiftly ushers me around the side of the building towards the church garden where the fundraiser has already started “We’ve got an emergency” 

“What do you mean?” I reply as she leads me through crowds of people till we reach a table lined with various numbered prizes. 

“Ruth was supposed to be running the raffle but she’s just called to say she can’t make it, ate something bad she thinks and now she can’t stop throwing up.” 

I grimace slightly at the story but mostly I’m just wondering what any of this has to do with me…

“So if you wouldn’t mind taking over and running it for us that would be wonderful. Tickets are a pound each. Thank you!” 

Before I can say anything she’s gone, rushing off to check the youth band are ready for their performance. I stand bewildered for a moment, looking around at the crowds until I spot the priest who is currently admiring cupcakes at the bakery stand and laughing about something. Suddenly he turns and locks eyes with me. His face drops, he stares at me like a deer in headlights. I give him a small smile, which he doesn’t return. My heart hurts. 

“Excuse me, how much is a ticket?” Someone asks, forcing me to turn my attention away

“One pound” 

“Can I get five please” 

By the time I complete the transaction and look back to the bakery stand the priest is gone. I scan the crowd again, but there’s no sign of him. 

An hour later I still don't know where he is. What I do know is I really need the loo. I ask the person on the stall next to me to watch the table while I head inside in search of the toilets, but when I enter the building I bump into someone. 

It’s him. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks

“Just trying to find the ladies room” 

“I mean here, at this stupid event”

“Pam didn’t really give me a choice” I explain and he just looks irritated “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I wasn’t welcome”

“I just wasn’t expecting to see you here today”

“Well here I am” I say dryly and there’s an awkward silence. I take a deep breath before I speak again “I actually wanted to talk to you… about what happened-”

“Nothing happened. We agreed”

“But it did happen, Father, we need to talk about it”

“Oh, fuck you calling me Father like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it”

My mouth drops open, dumbfounded by his comment. I shake my head slightly as I try and think of something to say.

“I know what you’ve been doing” he continues

“Please, enlighten me because I have no idea what you're talking about!”

“Playing the sweet, innocent girl. Making me like you, fall for you. Making me think that you needed saving from the douchebag boyfriend… Was any of it real? Was anything you said actually true?” 

“I never lied to you” I almost whisper as he gets really close to my face, moving my hair off my cheek to study what’s left of the burn scars.

“Did he ever really hurt you? Or did you just make that up so I’d feel sorry for you”

“Fuck you!” I say through gritted teeth as I start to walk away, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. I stop and look back at him “You’re the one who told me you loved me, remember? That was you! If you regret it, that’s fine. There’s no need to be such a dick about it” 

I turn and leave again, his final words repeating through my head as I walk away. 

As I walk home I can’t stop the tears from coming as I replay the conversation in my head over and over again. Why is he being like this? How can he be so loving to me one day and so nasty a few days later? What changed?

I get home and go straight to bed. I wrap myself up in the duvet and try to push everything out of my mind so I can get in a quick nap before I have to get ready for my hen party. The last thing I feel like doing right now is going out celebrating, but I know there’s no way I could cancel.

Thank God there’s going to be alcohol there. 

— — — — 

“Bride’s turn! Truth or Dare?”

“Truth” I say happily, finishing off my third glass of wine. 

“Okay… if you could have a free pass and choose any celebrity, who would you sleep with?”

The girls start whooping and laughing, but before I can even answer Tiffany cuts in.

“She won’t answer that, she’s far too vanilla”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, slightly offended by her tone.

“Don't start Tiff” Eva rolls her eyes

“I’m not starting anything, I’m just telling the truth. She’s only ever had one boyfriend and she’s marrying him tomorrow. She lost her virginity to him and I bet you anything that they schedule the days in the week when they’ll go to bed and have boring missionary sex. Vanilla! She’s never even kissed another guy…”

Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system or the way she’s talking about me like I’m not here, but I can feel myself getting more and more irritated.

“Actually I have!” I speak up and she laughs.

“A kiss from your dad doesn’t count”

The room falls silent as everyone stops to watch my reaction. I can see from Tiffany’s face she instantly regrets her words. She knows how much I miss my dad, but it’s too late to take it back now.  

“Well done Tiff” I hear Eva say as I walk away from the group. I head outside and take a deep breath of the fresh air. Looking up at the stars I find myself thinking of my parents and wishing they were here. 

“I’m sorry” Tiffany’s voice makes me jump, I hadn’t realised she’d followed me outside and was now leaning against the wall next to me “that was a low blow, I shouldn’t have said that”

“It doesn’t matter” I mutter quietly 

“It does! I should have thought about what I was saying… I just forgot”

“I forget too. So often I pick up my phone to call him and realise he won’t be on the other end. I would give anything for them to be here right now”

“I know, come here” she pulls me in for a hug, squeezing me tightly before leaning away to look me in the face “I’m sorry I called you vanilla”

“Maybe I am. You were right, I’ve only ever been with Daniel. Until this week he was the only man I’d ever kissed!”

“This week?” She pulls away completely and my heart drops as I realise what I’ve just said “You kissed someone? Who?”

“No I- I didn’t mean to say that” 

“Its okay, you can tell me. We have been friends forever haven’t we?”

“I guess… but you can’t tell the others!”

“I won’t”

“Promise me Tiff!”

“I promise!”

I take a breath. 

“I kissed the priest” 

“What priest?” She replies blankly.

“THE Priest! The one who’s doing the wedding tomorrow!”

She stares at me blankly for a moment as she processes what I’ve just told her. I can almost see the cogs turning in her brain and suddenly the penny drops.

“OH MY GOD!”

“I know”

“Y/N!” 

“I know!”

“Does Daniel know?”

“Of course not”

“You have to tell him!”

“Are you insane?! He’d go mad!”

“He deserves to know that his so called fiancé has been cheating on him”

“I haven’t been cheating on him, it was just one stupid drunken kiss”

“If it was ‘just a kiss’ why haven’t you told him?”  

“Because-” I think about telling her the truth. That if I told him he’d get angry and most likely hurt me. But I don’t. “I just can’t”

“If you don’t, I will” 

“No, Tiff please you can’t”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go there now and tell him” she says and stares at me as I silently stare back at her. When she begins to walk away I panic.

“Because he hurts me!” I finally admit, and she looks back at me confused “That’s why I’ve been too scared to tell him”

“No” she shakes her head “No he wouldn’t, he swore he’d never be like his dad”

“And he’s not. He’s not as bad as his father was, he just gets angry and sometimes he takes it out on me.” I explain but she’s still shaking her head in disbelief “a few days ago I had to go to the hospital because he burnt me” I pull the collar of my dress down to expose the burn scars on my neck “this is what’s left of him throwing boiling hot coffee in my face”

She looks from my neck to my face, sadness in her eyes as she processes everything. After a few moments she finally speaks. 

“I won’t tell him” 

“Thank you!” I breathe a sigh of relief 

“But I also won’t be at the wedding tomorrow” 

“Tiff, you're my maid of honour! My best friend! I need you”

“I can’t pretend to be happy for you, pretend that I agree with this marriage. I’m sorry”

“Tiff! Tiffany!” I call after her but she continues to walk away, hailing a passing taxi and disappearing into the night. 

“Y/N? What happened? Where’s Tiff?” Eva asks, poking her head out the door and looking around. 

“She’s gone” I say simply, turning to look at her “Guess I need a new maid of honour” 

— — — — 

The following morning goes by in a blur. The girls, minus Tiffany, stayed at my house over night while Daniel stayed at his mate’s house. I was awakened by the sounds of the girls running upstairs, screaming excitedly that “today is the day” as they jumped into my bed. 

Once they’d calmed down we had all gone downstairs for a light breakfast before the girls began getting ready. Maybe it’s the constant sound of laughing and chatting, or maybe its the slight hangover from the night before but I suddenly feel the need to get out. I excuse myself and head outside to get some air, taking a seat on the front step of my house. I take a few deep breaths and allow my head to drop into my hands, my elbows propped up on my knees. A few seconds later I hear footsteps up the driveway and look up to see the priest. 

“Hi” I say, unable to hide the confusion in my voice. 

“can we talk?” 

Final Chapter

[shiningmystic]

Message From Your

Spirit Guides

Pick a card tarot reading 🥰

Hello lovelies! My name is Elpitha aka ShiningMystic and I am here to give you messages from your spirit guides!

For some reason spirit told me to only make 2 piles for this general reading which I asked why and the simplest answer was that I’d be surprised by how many people are going through the same lessons and experiences.

So today I only have 2 piles for you to pick:

Pile 1: Red Aventurine

Pile 2: Fluorite

If you are being called to pick both, do not hesitate! It’s all about you, so trust your intuition! For me I close my eyes and see which one is glowing/floating in my imagination or which one is darker and heavier. If you don’t feel anything for either that is ok! Pick the one that catches your eye.

These messages get really specific so if some of what I say does not apply keep reading to see if something does resonate! If nothing resonates then I was not picking up your energy and you are going through different energies at this point in time! Possibly get a free reading from me if you need guidance! (Shameless plug 🌞 hehe)

Anyway here are your messages:

Pile 1:

Your Numbers: 11, 22, 1, 13, 4

For pile number one I feel a sense of loss, as if you have recently lost something or had to leave behind something to move forward and you are heavy with emotion. This was a change meant to happen for you to see better days. This will clear up the path before you to head towards what you really want. You had to let go for things to come in and you might not see it at this moment but I can see this sacrifice was not in vain. Whatever has fallen away/has been let go was not serving your purpose and you will find yourself to feel much lighter from this change even though for some of you I can see you do not see that right now. But be assured your spirit guides are telling me brighter days are ahead. This is meant for you to have a fresh start and spread the seeds for new ideas to bloom. I can see you have been working hard at your job or school life. I can also see many of you have been laid off from your job or have experienced a cut in money. This could also apply to you having a falling out with someone. I can feel that there are some of you who feel helpless and are angry from the results that you have received or just angry that there is no sign of results that you have been waiting for. I’m sorry for these heavy emotions. I can see you have been waiting for happier days hoping your sacrifice was worth it all. I just heard that you are allowed to laugh and cry whatever that means to you. Please stay aware in those moments of laughter. You are allowed to be vulnerable and let go of these heavy things that you have been pushed into doing or have pushed yourself into doing. It’s ok to let go of these emotions. You are allowed to laugh at the stupid things and cry when you feel the need. These mixed emotions are the process of letting go. Please let yourself feel happy or weak or sad because these are not bad to feel; they are valuable like how making mistakes is valuable, and how you are valuable even with no reason needed to justify why or how you are; it just is.

This is a time where you are building a foundation of trust within your path and yourself (honestly this is me right now so I relate really hard to you guys) these ideas and opportunities that are coming are meant to spark your passion again but they will not come if you continue to dwell on the emotions of loss sadness and anger. I am not a person who preaches to avoid these emotions; you are human and these emotions are valid. Please give yourself space to process because you have been so focused on other things you may as well be neglecting your needs. There are mixes of emotions in this pile so take what resonates for you and apply it to your situation. This is a time to build trust with yourself and the path you are on. Everything that walks in front of us serves a purpose. What do you think about yourself? What drives you to keep moving? What fills your body with pure excitement? There is advisement for you to build your internal foundation to move forward with security and confidence. I personally have been learning about my true self with introspection so maybe if this resonates you should start to learn about the real you through introspection or even therapy. You might have been living your life by what you think you must do but now is the time to ask the heavy questions; who are you and what do YOU want? If you were stable and had all the money you needed had a safe place to live and had food and water to drink; what would you be doing? Maybe right now you aren’t there yet but here’s the thing; you can get there.

With the unity card you may be a person who does not know themselves without others opinions. You may be a person who wants to help others and there community and though that is amazing and beautiful you need to help yourself first before committing to helping others.

Stop limiting yourself to the possibilities and see what true potential there is out there like when you were a child; only needing to think about what you wanted to do when you grew up. Now is the time to not so heavily think on what you want in the material world but what you overall want to BE in your life. That will lay the foundation of you knowing why you do things; then money will come to you much easier. You will know why you strive for amazing feats and keeping that integrity for yourself will be key to your happiness. You are not here to impress; you are here to live out your life in a fulfilling way. Let it be known that you are not alone in this, at least you don’t have to be. You are sacrificing your own needs in the pursuit of money and stability but is that really what you want? When you get there will you truly be fulfilled? Is your sacrifice really worth the pay out? For the people who have lost a relationship from there focus on the material; how do you treat yourself? Is it fairly? Do you give yourself the time of day to relax and do things you love? Do you hype yourself up and consistently feed yourself on time?

The relationship you lost was a wake up call to show you how you are treating yourself. As I’ve mentioned before, are you neglecting your needs because your focus is so honed on other things? That relationship that fell through was to show you how you have neglected them and yourself.

If you have not lost a person but a job, it was not meant for you anymore. As much as that sucks, it was not serving you. You were not growing from where you were and now is the time to come back to yourself and figure out why you were doing everything in the first place.

This is the time for you to finally put out there what you want and to flow with the changes that need to happen. Please do yourself a favor and finally do what you have desired. Connect with yourself again. Find what makes you laugh, and smile and go from there. Take the risk!

May your best path find you.

🌕~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌑

Pile 2:

Your Numbers: 1, 10, 3, 8, 11

Choosing a path of self learning and self empowerment. Wow this relates to pile one heavily but I can see the people who have picked this one are further along in this process. Letting go of past beliefs and finding truth and balance between the spiritual and physical world. This group is much more spiritually connected. It is a time to defy the norms and not listen to the world on what’s right or wrong but there is fear here. A deep sense of mental and emotional fear. This could vary for all of you. There is fear and letting go is what you are currently learning. You are transforming yourself and giving yourself the space to grow; this isn’t a sudden change but a patient nurturing one that you have been working on for awhile. Understand that there are heavy things that have been ingrained into your subconscious that you are learning to let go and that takes time; self care and an understanding heart. You may feel betrayed by the world at large and find that you are feeling isolated on your journey but do not forget we are all connected and can learn from all types of experiences even negative ones. Keep an eye out for synchronicities and intuitive hits.

These may come through when you speak to someone and you feel “off” about what they are saying or possibly watching a YouTube video of someone telling you something that doesn’t feel “right” to you. Don’t let every little thing that you hear influence you. Know that all information is useful but much of it could lead you a stray; trust in your intuition and discern what you do not know much about. Research things for yourself if you do feel connected to it. Or if you feel as though something is wrong with the information presented look into it for yourself so you may get the truth. Never take everything at face value especially at this time. The universe and guides are right beside you and trying to reach out to you through as many things as they can. You just need to be open up and listen. This is just confirmation that you are divinely connected for the people who are questioning it. Your creative endeavors are also hugely emphasized here and your spirit team is very adamant about paying attention to your creative inspirations especially and new things that inspire you and spark your passion. From these passions you will feel the universe once again. It’s vast vitality, harmony and peace.

Feeling these happy passionate emotions are key to knowing how the universe “feels” and puts us in the highest vibration which is the universal frequency that connects us to the never ending stream of creativity and love. Realize this everlasting strength you have and have always had since you were a child; realize the things that you were taught when you were younger have made you grow up into the person you are now. We wouldn’t have gone down this path without hardship and we would have continued to live a life behind a blindfold to fit into a mold that could never fit us in the first place. Even if it was hard and damaging, a struggle for your mental and emotional bodies; these things have driven you to discovering your inner world, power and self that have always been there.

Your inner world is vast and honestly it is it’s own universe. Realize your connection and know that even though you are human right now you are also a being of infinite energy; a mirror of the universe. Love the human that you are, because they are so beautiful and love the energy that you are because they are infinity and ever expanding. Do not mind the things you have done wrong; what can you do now that will change that view of yourself? The future is ever expansive and the past is stagnant. You can not go back but know you can move forward to where you want to go. Stay lovely and keep moving.

Don’t stop because the future is forever right now.

I hope these messages have helped you in anyway; on any path you are willing to take in your life. I place the intention within this reading for it to find the people who need to hear these messages! So mote it be ✨

Believe in yourself! I love you!

————————————— ⭐️

Tarot Decks used in this reading:

Dreams of Gaia tarot deck

Modern witch tarot deck

The psychic tarot Oracle deck

Ethereal visions illuminated tarot deck

-ShingingMystic 🐍