#It's such a horrible feeling knowing hours upon hours of your work and dedication have been violated

[sgiansporran]

Due to the massive scraping incident that happened on AO3, I have decided to make my current fic as well as all of my future fanfics available to registered users only.

It's very unfortunate that this happened, especially when the Still Wakes the Deep fandom is so small. I love writing for this game, and I especially love writing for its characters.

To the many guests who've visited, read and enjoyed my work so far, please know that I haven't deleted my fic but have instead simply restricted access to it in hopes of protecting my work in the event that another scraping incident happens.

To everyone who's had their work scraped, you have my condolences. I'm so sorry your hard work, your very passion, was so shamelessly stolen and unethically used without your consent. I hope you can still find the inspiration to continue doing what you love, despite this ongoing threat to creativity. Rise above it and roar as you do.

I might reverse this decision later (especially if protection improves) or, more likely, I might occasionally unlock my work for a limited time.

[leonw4nter]

Look at Us, You and I, Back at it Again

RE4R!Leon x Nurse!F!Reader

The terribly busy days stretched into the evening, turning into extended hours of work with little to no intervals of rest in between; the hospital is horribly understaffed for the season, staff and patients overwhelmed with the spike in the number of people needing confinement. As dedicated as you are to your job in helping people get better, you begin to miss laying on your cushy bed with Leon and those nonsense late-night talks. At this point, it feels like you live in the hospital and your apartment is just a place you visit on the sparse occasion that you aren’t paged in for another overtime. Luckily for you, you have a picture of Leon kept snug on your pocket; it’s a spare 1x1 photo for his passport that you snuck and he never asked for back, your fiancé looking extraordinarily divinity-blessed with his gelled-back hair and neatly ironed suit, sans necktie, along with his swoon-worthy resting face. That tiny piece of glossy photo paper with his face printed on feels like the only thing grounding you back to Earth, something preventing you from losing your cool and going berserk in front of everyone.

As for going berserk, it’s now unnecessary because you finally hear the words you’ve been dreaming of for the past weeks: “another nurse will take over your shifts now, you can go home and get some well-deserved rest”. You nearly cry tears of joy, the sight of a gaunt and sleepless nurse close to crying possibly being a frightful sight for patients being wheeled in, but you don’t care. Compiling your belongings and informing the next nurse of what tasks need to be covered, you make a mad dash out of the building as if your hair’s on fire. The commute back home is full of short-lived naps and sniffling, the lights and smells a lot more overwhelming to handle than usual; a creeping sick feeling begins to manifest itself, coupled with a headache, warmer body temperature, and an unignorable lethargy. You were doing just fine this morning, going about your demanding routine smoothly but that perhaps may have served as a distraction from sensing the ill feeling that began to form. Somewhat accustomed to these bothersome sensations, you brave it out and do your best to completely ignore these symptoms as you accompany Leon in accomplishing some chores before calling it a night.

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That miserable feeling overwhelmed you sometime around midnight; you were now a lot more sensitive to the cold of the room and shivering so you raise your hand to place the back of your palm on your neck and forehead, feeling the unusual burn of your body. Usually, you can look after yourself even with a fever but this one’s different: you’re absolutely fatigued and your body feels too heavy to move. You look to see if you’ve somehow bothered your sleeping fiancé, who is actually oblivious to your malady and is facing the wall. The telltale feeling of your stomach churning, sending bile upwards to your trachea has you peeling the blanket off of your body to run to the bathroom, throwing up and heaving. Roused by the sudden commotion, as well as being a light sleeper as a result of his job, your groggy yet concerned fiancé follows you to the restroom– moving efficiently to speedily assess the situation. Upon seeing you knelt in front of the toilet, face bent towards the bowl, he snaps into protective mode and lifts your hair away from your face with one hand while rubbing your back with another as you groan.

“I’ve got you,” he soothes gently. “I’m right here to help you.”

Once you’re sure that you’re done he wipes your face with a dampened towel, the coolness of the cloth a relief against your feverish skin, before offering you some water to drink up.

“Need anything else?” He asks gently, rubbing your shoulders with the most silvery of touches.

“I wanna get back to bed,” you weakly mumble before standing up. Knowing that you’re still dizzy and more than likely weak in the knees, he holds you up and walks you over. No matter how much insisting you do, Leon refuses to listen and goes full-on protector mode: fetching you your meds, ointments, thermometer, a clean towel, tissues, and refilled water bottle. Being the sweetheart that he is, he lets you borrow his thicker hoodies and finds you some sweatpants to keep away the cold before tucking you back in.

“I can’t go to work tomorrow,” you sadly lament as your doting fiancé gives you head massages to ease the headache.

“You need rest, sweetheart. This happened because you haven’t been taking care of yourself,” he gently points out, free of condescension. “Even nurses fall sick when they treat their patients non-stop, though I know you have healing powers of some sort.” He finishes massaging you and giving you your fever medicine, noting it down on a piece of paper on his side and on his phone as well. He slides back into bed, right by your side, but not before turning the lamps off and making sure you’re comfortable. He pulls you close to his chest as if to shield you from the rest of the world, not caring if he’s going to fall sick too– not that falling sick would suck entirely: you’ll be the one babying him by then.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

You don’t feel Leon’s weight perfectly pressed against your side, your left side void of the blond agent. You call his name and you hear a faint response coming from somewhere in the house, footsteps approaching the bedroom door and you see him enter with a tray of steaming soup with veggies and sliced fruit, along with vitamins and a tall glass of water.

“But what about your breakfast?” You ask, voice hoarse. “You need to eat too, you know. I won’t let you forget about your own needs just to take care of me.”

He laughs, a paradise-given sound, as he reaches over to stroke your hair in the most silvery of touches.

“There’s some bread on the toaster, I’ll be getting up soon to get my bread. Don’t worry honey, I won’t do anything you don’t like.”

While you aren’t chewing on any food, he takes the chance to gingerly press a kiss to your temple and lets his lips linger for an extended second.

“My hardworking, beautiful, amazing, intelligent, caring, celestial, and radiant wife-to-be. Thank you so much for working so hard for us and for your patients, I’m sure they’re thankful that you do your best to help people.”

He registers the ping of the toaster, his toast ready, so he gets up to retrieve his meal along with a mug of black coffee. He asks you if you like the breakfast he made and if you want him to get you seconds, politely taking away your used utensils to wash later on. He sits by your side, offering an ear to listen to you yap and saying some words of his own when you’re too tired to speak.

“Honey, can you hand me my laptop? I need to send them an email.”

“Oh, I already called your department and told them that you’ll be gone for three days since you’ve fallen sick. The receptionist sounded quite sad to hear it but she penciled it down, wished you a speedy recovery too– how nice of her.”

“Eunice must’ve picked up then. Did she sound kind of like Phyllis from The Office?”

“We’ve never watched the show together yet baby,” he accompanies his words with a delicate tuck of your hair behind the ear.

Once again sleepy after a hearty breakfast, the day called for a nap so you invited Leon to join you. Your large golden retriever takes his spot beside you as the big spoon for today, curling his body next to yours and enveloping you in comfort and safety in its purest form, wrapped around his strong arms.

“Stop kissing my hair, I haven’t washed it yet and I probably stink too,” you shyly tell him, voice slightly muffled.

“Don’t care,” he says before continuing to shower you in genuine affection. “I’m going to keep kissing you because I love you so, so, so much and that’s why I asked you to marry me. Whether or not you look put together doesn’t matter, I love seeing you in your natural state.”

“So even if I’m a bald vulture digging into some rotten meat, you’ll still love me?”

“Yup. I’m going to be your equally bald, equally stinky vulture husband in that life and we’ll eat raw meat and watch the sunset together. If we have vulture babies in that one, I’ll make sure to take home some steak-level meat for my family,” he jokes but you know that he’s completely sincere with his words.

NOTE - For my day 1s out here, does this fic being posted on this day feel familiar? Well, if there's that familiarity that you can't quite put a finger on, it's because this fic celebrates 1 year of me officially posting fanfiction in here 🥳 It's incredible that in a year, I've managed to amass 600+ followers and I didn't expect that so much of you would tune in to write silly little daydreams of mine turned into words on a screen :'3 I hope everyone's had a wonderful holiday and got the gifts they wanted; I just ordered a Leon capcorom and he's on the way, arriving sometime around the first week of 2025 though I'm broke now lmao. Umm, as for 2024, it's been a year and I went through a lot so I hope that all the little rituals for good luck I do on new year's will be true like PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE man (may 2025 be our year amen). Anyways, that's it and thank you for keeping up with me and interacting with the fics I put out, I appreciate it TONSSSSS!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!! 💗💗💗

The doodle dividers are made by @inklore , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[drdemonprince]

i read in the comments to my last ask about "ordinary unhappiness" the idea of depression as a lack of agency and i feel like that is true? when i feel miserable and in pain, it's not because something is sad but because something is either unachievable or impossible (or at least there is the perception of it). and like i think that's what you were getting at too? this thing that drives you to keep going, this lack of satisfaction. i simply don't have anything i can give into such that i would ever even feel a lack of satisfaction. i've never had anything to give myself into and feel frustrated and perhaps sometimes successful in but instead i just envy the people who do have those things. nothing i've ever done has felt maintained a sense of emotional connectiveness in that way (positive or negative). i guess to wrap this back around to another potential talking point, i'm curious how you find that in your life? is it weird for me that nothing has ever felt worth putting myself whole ass into? idk, i find it envious you've got both writing and gay hypno fetish stuff you're able to just throw yourself into so wholly and utterly

Passion isn't inherent, it can be a choice too. I only look like I care a ton about writing and gay hypno stuff because I have deliberately chosen to pursue those passions, for many years, and cultivated a deep interest in them, anon.

When I was in my early twenties, I felt completely empty. I was a void. If you've read the first chapter of Unmasking Autism, this is the period I'm talking about in that book. I went away to graduate school (because I was good at academics, and I had some illusions about what a career in that field would do for me), but I had absolutely zero zest for the subject of psychology at that point. I had no research ideas. I read psychology books and publications purely out of obligation. I did what was required of me, but nothing additional beyond that, and I spent the rest of my time sitting at home, sometimes literally staring at the wall and crying. I had no friends or hobbies, aside from taking long, long depression walks listening to podcasts in order to fill the silence.

This was when I was at my most depressed, and my most suicidal. Just existing was a pain. I'd sob in bed at night and cry out begging for God to kill me, and I didn't even believe in God. The only thing that distracted me from my pain was a guy I was seeing, who was beautiful and very cruel and inconsistent, and I clung to him through all kinds of lies and abuse because it felt as though my happiness was located inside of him.

I had a friend that I wrote to about how miserable I was, and all the twists and turns that my horrible romance was taking. Her name was Heather. (Unlearning Shame is dedicated to her). She told me hey, you're a really good writer, did you know that? I really enjoy reading your emails, even when you're speaking about the most pitiful anguished shit, you really put it poetically and have a ton of insight. You should write more.

For a while, I ignored her. I didn't care about writing. I just wanted to get my pain out on the page because I had nobody to talk to, and oodles of time to waste. I had nothing otherwise that I felt I HAD to say. I had no PASSION. I did not feel like I was put on this earth to do anything. Other people seemed to have these drives, and I had nothing.

But then one day in a fit of depression I stopped by a bookstore right near my apartment, The Armadillo's Pillow, just to get outside of the house. I happened upon a book I had loved in high school, Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections. I took it home. I read it. It transported me for a few hours away from my pain. I went back to the book store and picked up some sci-fi. A John Varley collection, I think. I was also swept away from my suffering, even when the stories had flaws that I noticed. I was interested in the actual craft of storytelling: what worked and what didn't. And there was finally some beauty in my head instead of the usual dreariness and self-hatred and emptiness.

And so. I made the choice to write. I could have taken it or left it at that point. I didn't care about anything. Caring is a muscle that you have to flex. And when you're depressed, it can be very hard. I needed a lot of nudges from the external world and other people, to realize that I had some things I did gravitate toward, even if I didn't realize it.

All that time of course I WAS driven to write. I was churning out 5k word letters to Heather every day practically. I was reading stupid shit online. And when it was put in front of me, and I had no reason to feel guilt about not working hard enough on other things, I reached for books. But I didn't feel passion strongly under the heavy blankets of my depression. Or usually at all, really. I am a quite internally muted person whose emotions are suppressed. But they're there. Speaking to me softly. And to overcome my depression, I had to decide to listen to them instead of ignoring them all of the time, and give them kindling, and then fan them into a flame.

I started blogging regularly while I was in graduate school (right here, hello, you can check my archive dating back to 2011), and finding a reason to live. When I was writing, I felt like the world was interesting, and beautiful. It gave me new things to do. I attended literary readings and book launches all over town. I submitted work to magazines. I bought old copies of magazines and read them. I inhaled books. I listened to fiction podcasts. I joined writing groups. At first, it felt like a slog, like anything else. Doing these things, I was not "happy". But I was interested. I liked learning about the world of publishing, critiquing people's stories in my head, and commisserating with other Tumblr writers about the stuff that got featured on the Prose tag that sucked.

After YEARS of doing this, of choosing to fan my passions, it became a genuine motivation in my life. But even then? I lose track of it sometimes. I get busy, or there's no place comfy to sit and read in my apartment, and I forget that I like writing and reading for months at a time. And then I have to choose it again. It takes effort to care about something, every time.

It's the same way with hypno. I did have a fetish for this stuff all my life long. But it's a passion that people always thought was weird and gross, and that I thought was bad. I didn't tell anyone about it until my late 20's. I felt ashamed masturbating to it or looking up hypno content online. For years I snuffed out that flame of passion until I could barely feel it anymore. It wasn't until I was super depressed AGAIN in my later 20's that I took a bunch of weird off-label anti-depressant drugs under the table and had a weird dreamy headspace overtake me and make me insanely horny that I remembered how much I loved hypno, and because I was in search of an escape from my tormented brain, I sought hypnotists out.

And I had the time of my life. But I also had boring, awkward encounters, bad hook-ups, and had to do a ton of work.

My passions have drawn me out of depression because I needed them to. I had to find them, listen to them, and then give them lots of food. And it's one of the few things that a person does often have agency over, no matter how dispiriting their circumstances. You can make choices about where to put what attention you do have, in what free moments you do have. When you're on the bus or in line at the grocery store and you're thinking about how much you hate yourself, you can try to think about a story you read or a sexual fantasy you had, instead. It's a lot of work. But it's better work than the work of hating yourself, which takes a whole lot of energy and attention itself.

I hope you can find something like this for you. It doesn't really matter what it is. It can be some hobby you've always wanted to try, or something "childish" you've suppressed. Having a passion isn't like being chosen by the universe to care about something. It's not like love at first sight. Nothing fucking works like that in life. It's always work. It's always a choice you have to make, because no one else will give it to you. But there can be hints that you can follow, sometimes.

[daysofyellowroses]

comfort

david von erich x reader | 3.3k |inspired by this absolutely wonderful request - apologies for the delay, i just loved writing this! | warnings: allusions to depression

this story is brought to you by my menstrual cycle, copious amounts of sweet treats & the music of neil young, enjoy 🌼

It was honestly a miracle that you didn't faint when you were told the news. The shock had you reeling, your head feeling light as your stomach felt tight and heavy. Part of you wished you had just passed out so you wouldn't have to process the information. 

Everything you'd worked for, trained for, given up, all for nothing. The blood, sweat and tears, hours upon hours of constant training, the deep bruises that marked your body, all just made pointless with one sentence.

“We're not going to the Olympics.”

Words had never stung so much. It felt like a horrible joke. You had been training since you were a little girl, being told to keep a vision in your mind of you on the platform accepting the gold medal in Moscow. 

Your entire life had been dedicated to gymnastics, it was what you knew, what you excelled at. When you'd left home to go train in Dallas it had been daunting, but at least you were only a few hours away, you didn't have to leave the state like some of your friends. 

When you would have low moments, missed your family, your friends, and particularly David, and it felt like you were missing out on the typical teenage experiences, you tried to remember it would all be worth it one day. 

Not anymore.

What did you have to show for all the years of sacrifice? You don't train for a race and then not run it. That gold medal was yours, you knew it. The thought of it had kept you going, that image of showing it to your loved ones, celebrating with them. Showing them all their sacrifices were worth it too.

All you wanted was to go home and curl up in your bed, forget the world existed. You just felt hollow inside, numbness had taken over your body. When you called home, you could tell your mom was trying not to cry. You couldn't cry, even if you wanted to, you just felt like you were on autopilot. You wanted to call David, but you couldn't bring yourself too. It wasn't like the two of you were in a relationship, it was..complicated. 

You insisted to your parents that you were fine getting the bus home, but your dad came to pick you up. When he hugged you it had you almost breaking down, but you had to stop yourself. You just clung to him and let him guide you into his truck.

When you arrived back home, you hugged your mom for what felt like hours. You finally broke down and cried when you went to your bedroom, laying in your bed and letting the tears flow freely. You wanted to be strong, to just accept your fate and keep going, but you couldn't. Not yet.

You stayed in bed for a couple of days, unable to face the world. Your mom would come in with a tray, try and get you to eat something. Your dad would come and read the newspaper aloud to you, the mundanity of life around town feeling soothing.

By the fourth day, you were starting to become one with your bed. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, taking a shower and trying to revive yourself. The whole thing kept playing over and over in your mind. It wasn't like you were disqualified or kicked off the team, forced to leave because of your own actions. It was a noble cause to withdraw, and you had no control over it. That being said, it didn't make you feel any better.

After you showered and dressed, you joined your parents for breakfast. You could see the relief in their eyes, the delight radiating from your mother. You didn't have much of an appetite but you forced yourself to eat something. Hell, you could eat whatever you wanted now. 

Your father informed you that he'd be going into town later, making the mildest of suggestions that you could join him. The thought of the pitying looks had you wanting to retreat back to your bed. Everyone in town would know. They would give you the look. The ‘poor you, what a shame’ look.

But they were going to look at you eventually, and you had nothing to hide. So you told your father you'd join him, wanting to rip the band aid off.

As it turned out, it wasn't the worst experience ever. You did indeed get the look, but people refrained from commenting. They knew the situation, you knew the situation, there was no need to rehash it. 

While your dad was in the hardware store, chatting to the owner, you wandered around, enjoying the peace. As you were wandering around an aisle you bumped into a very familiar blonde, craning your neck up and letting out a soft sigh as you met his eyes.

“You live two minutes down the road and I bump into you here?”

“The mysteries of life at work I guess.”

You smiled a little, glancing around before looking back to David. You could see the guilt in his eyes, tell he wanted to say it. Tell that he wanted to say it was a damn shame. But he didn't, and you found yourself wanting him to. 

“How've you been?” You asked, resting your hands on your hips. “My dad tells me you're involved with wrestling now?”

While you could tell David was a little caught off guard, he gave you a polite nod and cleared his throat. 

“Yeah, yeah I just kind of..fell into it.”

You knew for a fact that couldn't be true, but he hadn't pressed you, and you weren't going to press him. Not in the middle of Earl's hardware emporium anyway. 

“Enjoying it?” 

“So far so good.”

You nodded softly, taking a deep breath as you slowly folded your arms. 

“Could we..get together later? I feel like we need to catch up properly.”

The look of relief in David's eyes had you feeling at ease.

“Of course,” He nodded, giving you a small but reassuring smile. “Why don't I pick you up around six?”

“Sounds good,” You smiled, for what felt like the first time in weeks. “I'll see you then.”

As much as you had tried your best to look casual when David arrived at the house, you couldn't deny that you'd spent a fair amount of time perfecting the casual hair and makeup look, planned your outfit carefully to look as though you'd just thrown it together. 

“You look great,” David smiled as you hopped into his truck. “Where do you wanna go?”

“I'm pretty hungry, we could get something to eat?” You suggested, your appetite coming back to you. 

“Sounds like a plan,” David nodded. “Let's do it.”

Before you knew it you were in the diner you'd spent so many nights dreaming about while you were training. On your brief visits home, you and David would spend hours there, chatting and laughing and occasionally holding hands across the table. You'd feel guilty for ordering a milkshake and David would insist he'd take the blame, putting on a ridiculous accent and pretending to be a coach to make you laugh til the glass was empty. 

It was actually a nice feeling to order a burger and fries, along with a large milkshake you refused to feel guilty about. When you looked back at David and found him smiling at you, you rolled your eyes with a grin. 

“Something on my face?”

“Not yet.”

You laughed as he winked at you, shaking  your head.

“Your jokes ain't changed then.”

“Course not,” David shrugged, leaning back against the red leather booth. “have to remind you what attracted you to me in the first place. Aside from this,” He swept his hand down his body. “obviously.”

“Oh obviously,” You nodded, a serious look on your face for a moment before you both laughed. 

“Just feels nice being here with you again,” David sighed softly, resting his hand on the table. “We never really got much time before but..I'm glad we do now. Obviously it's not the best circumstances but..”

“But it's fine,” You smiled, sitting up and resting your arms on the table. “we’re here now.”

“Indeed we are,” David smiled, glancing around for a moment before looking back at you and clearing his throat. “listen, I don't know what your plans are but if you're sticking around then..I'd love to ask you on a date.”

“You..wow,” You raised a brow, looking over to David with a smile as you rested your head on your hand. “We're kinda just doing things in reverse I guess.”

“I guess so,” David nodded, a slight flushed red coloring his cheeks. “I want to do it right.”

You admired his sentiment, it was sweet. The two of you had never really had a real relationship, or been on dates, with you being away in Dallas it didn't make sense. But you always hung out when you were home, whether it was in the diner or driving around in David's truck. On more than one occasion he'd snuck into your room (at your encouragement) and the two of you would try to stay quiet as much as possible. 

You'd never really thought about how a relationship would look, that was supposed to be in the next chapter of your life. But the book was evidently going to be a little shorter, and a relationship with someone you truly cared about and loved was certainly a fair compromise. 

“I think you doing it right won't be a problem,” You grinned, sitting back as your drinks were brought over. You looked at the glass in front of you, the red and white straw poking out of the pink milkshake. 

“Thank you,” You smiled at the waitress, easing the glass closer to you. You lightly swirled the straw before taking a sip.

“Hm,” You sat back and glanced over to David, lightly tapping your glass. “You may have competition. This milkshake is close to stealing my heart.”

“Oh really?” David grinned, reaching across the table to gently touch your hand, your palm turning to touch his. “Bring it on.”

A couple of days later, you were starting to feel okay again. Your parents were incredibly supportive and loving, making life at home feel easier. David honored his promise and asked you out on a real date, which was very cute. He came and picked you up, took you to a nice restaurant, made you feel like nothing else in the world mattered but the two of you. After dinner he took you home, walking you to the door and kissing your cheek like a gentleman. You told him that he could come in, but he told you that he was leaving while you wanted more, and you knew where he was.

As it turned out, David's parents were away at a funeral, and you were able to walk in the front door rather than risk breaking your leg using the drain pipe. Kevin was out on a date, and Kerry and Mike were watching TV when you arrived.

You gave them both a hug, wanting to stay and chat but finding it adorable how many excuses David made to lure you away. In the end you grabbed his hand and led him upstairs, wanting to make the most of an almost empty house.

When you woke up in the middle of the night, you smiled as you realized where you were. David's arm was wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your neck. The need for water outweighed your need for comfort, so you carefully slipped out of bed, grateful you'd thrown on one of David's t-shirts before going to sleep. You found your discarded panties on the floor, slipping them on. Kevin's bed was empty, and you presumed his date had gone very well because none of the boys ever slept on the couch. 

Making your way down to the kitchen, you were surprised to find a light on. Kerry was sitting at the table, and you gave him a smile as you walked in.

“Couldn't sleep?” You asked, going to the cabinet to get a glass. 

“Nah, just tossing and turning,” Kerry sighed softly. “figured I may as well just get up. You?”

“Wanted water,” You explained, taking your glass to the sink and filling it with water. “I know I won't be able to sleep again now. Never can when I wake up in the middle of the night.”

“It's a pain in the ass,” Kerry nodded. “I'm the same. If I'm awake that's it.”

You took a sip of water, standing by the sink for a moment before walking over to the table and sitting across from Kerry.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked, your hand lightly gripping your glass.

“Of course,”  Kerry nodded. You suspected he knew what you were going to say but you felt the need to say it anyway.

“How have you been handling it?” You asked, your stomach feeling tight. “Since we were told?”

Kerry was quiet for a moment before he let out a breath and rested his arms on the table. 

“Better than I expected,” He told you. “At first I thought..this is it, the end of the road, what the hell am I supposed to do now you know? But since coming home it feels like the world opened up again. I got my family, a roof over my head, it could be a whole lot worse. How are you finding it?”

You took a sip of water, lightly pushing the glass away when you set it down on the table.

“I'm finding it easier now,” You nodded. “I really couldn't handle it at first, I just stayed in bed for days. I'm still amazed I managed to drag myself out, I was just miserable. But my family definitely helped too, and David,” You smiled, glancing up for a moment. “I don't know what I'd do without him. Without all of you,” You looked back to Kerry.

“You know this is the first time I've really talked about it, I've been avoiding the subject.”

“That's understandable,” Kerry sat back a little, lightly tapping his hand on the table. “Most people are sympathetic but they don't really understand how it felt. I just can't stand that look people give you, like you're a kicked puppy or something. I'd rather just not talk about it if they're gonna start pitying me.”

“Exactly,” You nodded. “Obviously it's normal for people to have sympathy but it just..feels different when it's actually happening to you.”

“Well you can talk to me about it anytime,” Kerry smiled. “About anything.”

“I know,” You smiled, getting up from the table and walking around to Kerry. “I really appreciate it.”

He stood up and you wrapped your arms around him, feeling another weight lifted off your shoulders as he hugged you back.

“I'm gonna try and get some sleep,” You sighed softly, pulling back and gently squeezing Kerry's arm. “I'll see you in the morning.”

When you got back to David's room, you slipped back into his bed as quietly as possible, smiling when his arm immediately wrapped around your waist. 

“Where'd you go?” He murmured into your neck, his voice addled with sleep you wish you could borrow. 

“Just wanted some water,” You told him, turning around and looking at his perfect face, how peaceful he looked. “Go back to sleep.”

He didn't need to be told twice, and while you found sleep still eluded you, you felt more content as you nestled into him.

A couple of days later, while the sun was splitting the rocks, you were relaxing in the Von Erich's backyard, the smell of barbecue wafting through the air. You were sitting beside Kerry, beer in hand and feeling pretty relaxed.

“Oh, did I tell you the news?” He grinned, taking a sip of his beer.

“Absolutely not,” You raised a brow with a grin. “Tell me immediately.”

“I'm joining Kev and David in the ring,” Kerry told you. “got my first match on Saturday.”

“Oh..that's..that's so amazing,” You smiled, giving Kerry a hug. “Wow, how cool is that?” You pulled back and gave him a smile. “You better believe I'll be in the front row.”

“I hope so, I need the support,” Kerry laughed softly. “Feel free to make a banner.”

“You think I wasn't gonna make one?” You teased, taking a sip of your beer and watching David approach you from the corner of your eye.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Me?” You looked over at him. “Yeah, of course.”

You got up from the table and followed David into the house, sitting down beside him on the couch when you got to the living room.

“What's going on?” You asked, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest.

“It's..it's stupid,” David sighed, sitting back and resting his hands over his thighs. “But I just need to get it out.  Because..if you want Kerry instead of me I'd rather just know about it now than be dragged along and made a fool of, and yes it would be hard to deal with but if it would make you happy then-”

“David,” You gently touched his arm, turning towards him. “I'm with you, and that ain't gonna change. If I wanted to be with anyone else I would be, but I'm not because I want to be with you.”

“You don't have to spare my feelings,” David looked over at you, and you gently squeezed his arm. “I can handle it, I promise. I see how close you two are.”

“Because we're friends,” You sighed softly. “And we've been through a shared experience. I know that I can talk to you about anything, but Kerry has had the same thing happen to him. And now he's moving on and I'm..”

You took a deep breath, looking down to David's arm. “I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I mean, I know what I'm doing today, but..what about the future? I have nothing, I don't have a job, or a degree, or..anything. Everything I knew is just..gone and I..”

“Hey,” David sat up and moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around you as you buried your face in his shoulder. “you got so much going for you, alright? And a long old life ahead of you, so don't waste it getting stressed out. Your life hasn't taken the path you expected but mine hasn't either. I didn't think I'd end up doing what I'm doing, and I never even dared think I'd be lucky enough to get you back, have you here with me. But it's turned out pretty damn great, and I promise you that what's in store for you will be so amazing. You don't need to figure it all out right this second, you got time.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” You smiled softly, looking up to David and feeling yourself breathe again. “I just need to know so I can make sure I keep doing it.”

“It's me who should be asking that,” David smiled softly, his hand gently stroking your back. “Whatever I did I'd do it a million times over.”

“Well before you do that, maybe you could do something else first,” You smiled, softly biting your lip.

“Oh yeah?” David grinned, raising a brow. “What's that?”

“You could go get me a burger,” You teased, laughing softly as he rolled his eyes with a grin. “or just kiss me, whatever you feel like doing first.”

“I'm on it,” David smiled, standing up before leaning down to kiss you, his hand gently stroking your neck, your hand moving over his as you kissed him back, feeling truly content. 

[colorisbyshe]

How can you justify voting in this election?

Quite easily.

I do not vote while worrying about myself. By that I mean, I'm not voting to ensure I'm a good person. I am not that self centered. If this election is a stain on my soul, so fucking be it. It's not about me. If I'm a lesser person for what I have done to survive, the same way we're all lesser people for not doing EVERY SINGLE THING WE CAN EVERY SINGLE DAY to help other people, so be it.

I see this election as a form of survival. I am voting to keep as many people alive as possible. You when you're on a plane and they say put on your mask before you put on your child's or anyone else that can't? Same energy. More people survive when more people can put on their masks. Mutual aid, direct action, civil disobedience, things more extreme can all be easier and more effective with the right electorate.

I don't see voting as a cure all. I think of voting as a small, small step in a much larger plan. Voting is... a day, max. Voting is a couple hours of research into ALL of the candidates and measures on the ballot (spread out over an entire election cycle) and, depending on where you are, either a couple minutes or a couple hours in line. It could be a couple minutes filling in and dropping off a ballot. It does not get in the way of spending the rest of the year/term doing more directly impactful things.

Actual activists, who are on the streets and have dedicated their lives to good work, have encouraged people to vote. No one posts about it here but like... actual activists have been saying "It's horrible that these are our choices and yet we still must choose." Like... I don't really presume to know better than the people who have actually gone up to Kamala and begged her to change her ways.

Voter suppression, gerrymandering, and other forms of violence and disenfranchisement against potential voters are all proof that voting does matter, even when it doesn't feel like it.

I recognize "not enough of a difference between candidates" isn't the same as "no difference." The difference is thousands upon thousands of lives, tbh. But, if nothing else, you should be concerned about the fate of the supreme court right now.

Voting is not about what feels good. It's about what keeps things from getting even worse. That's it.

The conversation, the election, is going to happen whether or not your voice is involved. Why would you concede your spot on the table to someone you view as less moral than yourself? Why would you let someone else speak up over you while you stay mum?

And, again, voting today or any other day does not take any meaningful time or effort away from doing more impactful work. There's literally nothing to lose by voting today besides your self-obsessed sense of integrity.

Integrity doesn't' save lives, doesn't feed people, don't affect the supreme court, doesn't impact debt or the healthcare system. It's not going with these people to the grave or to the hospital or to school. Integrity isn't going to keep climate change at bay.

I'm also too cognizant of actual reality and not tumblr world to think a Trump presidency would be identical to a Kamala presidency. Like... I'm sorry, I do think Kamala is a terrible choice, I do think Biden has been a terrible president, and yet I do know it can be worse.

Most people I voted for aren't as different as they should be from their competitors. That weighs heavily on me. It agonizes me that we do not have good choices.

But we (speaking broadly, obviously I have noted some people ARE disenfranchised) still do have choices and there are still differences. And those differences include whether or not some people eat, whether some people get medical treatment, whether or not some people die.

Who the fuck am I to say let them die so I can feel good about myself and say I "taught the democrats a lesson" by not voting them (which is not a thing that has EVER worked, btw, democrats do not learn from you trying to rub their nose on the mess they made)

I'm not interested in feeling good about myself at anyone else's expense.

If you can't do it, no judgment. I do recognize how horrific this entire situation is. I'm just not built like that. Like if you really, really can't do it, so be it. If Kamala loses, it's her fault for being so fucking awful.

But... idk man. If even one additional person lives under her that would've died under Trump, I can't turn away from them. Personally.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Your Genesis angst was beautiful (I. will admit to almost crying) and got me thinking.

So, what if one day Genesis is working on a project and it just. Isn't. Going. Right. It's supposed to be perfect, it's supposed to be amazing, this was the one thing he'd been excited about all day but it isn't perfect. He's horrible at everything and he's a failure. He's spent hours and hours, hasn't eaten, hasn't drank, hasn't done jackshit for himself.

And of course, because his friends love him very much, they go to check on him, only for Genesis to burst out sobbing, telling them about all his insecurities because they just can't stay inside anymore. How would they react?

Cathartic fluff be upon ye .・゜-: ✧ :-

• Genesis received an invitation to write a thought-provoking article for an esteemed magazine. As a prominent scholar in the study of Loveless, high expectations accompanied the request.

• But while he typically articulated his ideas effortlessly, this particular task wasn't going well.

• Struggling with writer's block, he neglected sleep and food, consumed by a relentless focus on writing 24/7. This ceaseless dedication took a toll on him, and when the article was finally completed, self-doubt crept in. He despised his work, questioning his abilities, feeling like a fraud, and constantly comparing himself to an unattainable standard.

• Angeal was the first to notice that there was something wrong. It happened after their lunch break—Genesis had skipped it, but Angeal and Sephiroth chalked it up to him being busy with his bustling social life, a lunch date with one of his admirers undoubtedly.

• But Angeal found Genesis in his office, the exact same place he had left him an hour prior. He was curled up on his desk chair, with blood-shot eyes staring at his computer screen. Something told Angeal that the red wasn't due to eyestrain from staring at the screen for too long. His eyes were too glassy, too wet for it to be that. He had been crying.

• Then came Sephiroth. He had noticed the cafeteria had a selection of fresh Banora White's, a rarity to find in Midgar. Genesis was again absent, so Sephiroth decided to grab one for him. But when he brought it up to Genesis's office, the man flat-out refused the fruit, claiming not to be hungry.

• Sephiroth was well-acquainted with a lost appetite under extreme stress, which is why his concern led him to seek out Angeal and tell him that Genesis was not well.

"So you noticed it too, huh?" Angeal remarked.

"Has he shown any other signs of distress?" Sephiroth asked.

Angeal nodded, "I might have seen him crying the other day, remember when he skipped lunch? I went to check up on him after."

A frown tugged Sephiroth's lips. "He hadn't eaten that day?"

"Doesn't seem like it," Angeal admitted. "Zack told me he saw him leave his office at 4 AM the other day."

Sephiroth sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation. "Which means he's been neglecting sleep."

Angeal confirmed with a nod.

A contemplative silence enveloped Sephiroth as he crossed his arms, looking to the side and parting his lips hesitantly.

"What is it?" Angeal asked.

"It's just... he's usually light." Sephiroth's tone was heavy. "Now... he's dim."

The words weighed on Angeal, who then and there decided to put an end to their problem at once.

He forced an understanding smile, placing a firm hand on Sephiroth's shoulder as he stood. "I know what you mean. Come on, let's go talk to him."

• When they returned to Genesis's office as a duo, he was still there. They didn't bother knocking, gently pushing the door open to see Genesis seated at his desk, surrounded by scattered papers and dimly lit by a single lamp. His auburn hair seemed dulled, mirroring the weariness in his eyes.

• Genesis glanced up as they entered, a mixture of surprise and exhaustion etched on his face. "Oh. What do you guys need?"

Sephiroth fought the urge to wince. Even his voice sounded hoarse and lifeless.

Angeal approached with a gentle smile. "Gen, you haven't given yourself a break from writing that article, have you?" His tone conveyed both understanding and worry.

Genesis sat up straighter. He looked wounded, opening his mouth to respond, but being cut off by Sephiroth.

"I haven't seen you at lunch, nor have you appeared at dinner. You haven't been eating properly either." His usually stoic demeanor softened by genuine worry on his face.

Genesis wordlessly glanced to the dozen of empty coffee cups on the floor by his desk.

Sephiroth huffed. "Coffee does not constitute as a meal."

Genesis sunk down into his seat again, pulling both if his legs up and hugging his knees.

As Genesis buried his face, they exchanged a meaningful look before Angeal spoke again. "We're just worried, Gen. You're not yourself lately. What's wrong?"

Genesis's only response is a small sniffle.

Sephiroth and Angeal exchanged alarmed glances as Genesis, seemingly unable to contain his emotions any longer, began sobbing into his knees.

His nails dug into his legs, the sounds of genuine distress filling the room, a stark contrast to the confident persona they were accustomed to.

Sephiroth and Angeal, immediately concerned, move closer, unsure of how to comfort their friend who now seemed so vulnerable, unraveling like a wounded child.

"Genesis," Angeal whispers softly, kneeling down beside his chair. Sephiroth does the same on the opposite side.

The room is filled with a heavy silence, broken only by Genesis's deep sobs. Angeal gently places a hand on his friend's shoulder, while Sephiroth works to remove Genesis's fingers from his knees before he can harm himself.

He was still crying when he leaned over and hugged Sephiroth, burying his face in his neck. Sephiroth responded with a gentle embrace, holding him close. The three of them found themselves on the floor. While Sephiroth held him, Angeal shushed Genesis reassuringly, his soothing words accompanied by the comforting gesture of carding his fingers through Genesis's hair.

"You're okay," Angeal whispered, his tone reminiscent of how one would speak to a child. "We're here now. If you want to tell us what's wrong, we're here for you."

Sephiroth frowned, stroking his friend's back. "If you don't want to tell us anything, that's fine too."

Tears streamed down Genesis's face as he poured out his frustration. "I can't take it anymore. Everything I write comes out wrong. I've written this damn article fifteen times now, and I can't get it right. I can't do anything right. Ever!"

Angeal nudged him gently. "Gen, you're very tired right now. You need to take a break from writing this and come back to it later."

"Taking a break won't fix me!" Genesis snapped his despair palpable as angry tears steamed down his face.

Angeal fell silent, unsure of how to respond.

Sephiroth was quick to jump in. "You don't need to be fixed. You're perfect the way you are."

"Easier for you to say!" Genesis snapped back. "There isn't a single flaw that graces your being, is there, Sephiroth? Everything you do is perfect. I thought writing and literature were the things I had over everyone, but I can't even do that right."

Now Sephiroth was the speechless one, looking to Angeal for help. Angeal, in turn, sensed the weight of their friend's struggles. "Genesis, is this how you've been feeling? Like you're not good enough?"

"It's not a feeling, Angeal, it's just what I am," Genesis confessed, vulnerability clear in his tone. "And I'm tired of it. I really am. I'm tired of not being enough, tired of competing with everyone who I think is better than me. I'm sick of thinking everyone is better than me. I'm exhausted."

After a moment's hesitation where not even Angeal knew what to say, Sephiroth tentively found the words.

"If you are tired of yourself, are you tired of lighting up every room you enter?" He asked earnestly, managing a small smile as he wiped a stray tear from Genesis's cheek.

Angeal nodded with a smile. "Are you tired of always knowing just what to say to make us feel better?"

Sephiroth continued. "You must be tired of being the bravest man I know, and not to mention the one I admire the most."

Genesis looked at him, wide-eyed, as Sephiroth smiled and rubbed his back.

Angeal chimed in, flicking a stray lock of hair from Genesis's eyes. "In that case, certainly you're tired of being the most skilled mage this program has ever had. And you must be tired of being one of the most accomplished scholars in your field."

Sephiroth shrugged gently. "And since you're sick of being Genesis, that means you're sick of being our best friend."

"Our one-of-a-kind, necessary half," Angeal added.

Sephiroth nodded. "Our equal."

Finally, Genesis sighed, defeated. "Well, when you say things like that, I look stupid."

Angeal met his gaze with a mix of frustration and, surprisingly, a laugh. "Gen, you're not incapable of looking stupid. In fact, you say stupid shit for most of the time you're alive."

Genesis's shoulders slumped.

"But," Angeal added, "you are fundamentally one of a kind. A rare, beautiful person inside and out." He frowned, looking genuinely hurt. "I hate that you don't see that."

Sephiroth leaned them both against the desk, still hugging him. "I can somewhat understand the supposed envy, Genesis, but not the competition. There is no competing with me, Genesis."

Genesis rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks, Seph."

Sephiroth laughed. "I mean because you're my equal. You're a piece of me, Genesis, that I did not know was missing before I met you. Both of you. Where I would be without you and Angeal in my life... is not something I enjoy thinking about."

"Really?" Genesis looked up.

Sephiroth nodded, giving hima reassuring smile.

"Really."

Genesis looked a bit brighter as his sniffles began to subside.

"And about the article, Gen," Angeal said, continuing to stroke his hair. "If there's anyone who can do it, it's you. You're the artistically gifted one out of the three of us, and the magazine picked you because they know that you're the best at what you do. If the words don't sound right now, that's okay. How long do you have to turn it in?"

"Four days," Genesis replied quietly.

Sephiroth squeezed his shoulder. "Four days is more than enough time to edit what you have. Angeal and I will help you."

Genesis looked surprised. "You will?"

"Duh," Angeal said with a smirk. "But first, we're going back to your place."

"What? Why?" Genesis inquired. Sephiroth gently pulled him off, and Angeal began to lift him up.

"I'm going to draw you a bath." Angeal wrapped his arm around Genesis. "And Sephiroth is going to order a lot of takeout."

"Copy." Sephiroth also wrapped an arm around Genesis.

"Then, you're going to sleep for at least a day. We'll tell Lazard you're taking the day off tomorrow," Angeal continued.

Sephiroth hummed. "Perhaps we can stay over. To make sure you'll actually be sleeping and not binge-watching TV."

"That sounds like a plan!" Angeal agreed.

Genesis faltered, his legs nearly giving out as his heart swelled. He choked one last cry, pulling them both into a tight hug, tears streaming down his face. Angeal and Sephiroth squeezed him right, taking advantage of how they towered over him to completely encase him in warmth.

"Thank you," Genesis whispered. "I don't deserve you two."

Sephiroth felt a tear roll down his cheek. He looked up, meeting Angeal's equally glassy eyes before whispering:

"What are friends for?"

[moyazaika]

oh, dear me. Have I ever told you that I'm a big fan of true crime?

I'm afraid you've opened a Pandora's box of boxes, my friend.

I am. CRAZY. (We could end it here) ABOUT PROSECUTOR DARLING AND THEIR FUCKED UP KINGPIN. Good golly gee I'm. yet I raise you another level of fuck-upery. What if you were the sole survivor of a terribly, horribly, oh-so-violent crime. This brutal, nightmare-fueling, gut-wrenching crime, committed by the complete and utter filth of the devil himself, that no one bothers to hear you out about. You spend every second of your life in fear, putting locks upon locks on all of your windows and doors, memorizing every single route out of town you could possibly imagine, hoarding supplies in case you ever need to run without warning. You go through hell and back, years of psychological torture, being slammed by the media, defense attorneys, other faceless, nameless voices who are convinced you must be lying about what you saw on that fateful night. And even physical violence. Hell, there's a sole survivor of this horrific crime who wants to conveniently point their finger at this supposed murderer? Nothing a good old fashioned beat-down can't fix. Your fixation on bringing justice to the crime you witnessed years ago has destroyed your life, it's made you hate with a burning passion extending towards the perpetrator, the world, yourself. But finally, FINALLY, after years of this torment… you put that man behind bars.

Yes. The man is behind bars, physically. He can't come and get you anymore. You don't have to sprint to your apartment door, hands shaking as you try to unlock it as quickly as possible. There's no one in the closet, no one at the window, nothing under your bed: You are safe. He's in jail. But you are still trapped with the conscious guilt, the unstoppable force that continues to eat away at your every waking moment; Why? Did the hours of interrogation footage not answer it? Did the most tense moments of that trial, or any of the trials before that, not live up to your wildest dreams of this wicked man's intentions? Is locking that psychopath up not satisfactory enough to fulfill the heavy hole in your heart, the one that still wants to look him in the eyes and ask; Why? Why do you still not feel any sort of closure? Where is the finality? Where is your justice? That's what drags you back to the bus station, back through the gates, down the road, past the double doors with the grumpy guards, right back down the hall to him.

He thinks you're a real character, actually. Dedicated, he likes that in a partner. Regardless, it's not like you could run from your guilt forever, right? One way or another, you'll trudge back to that dinky little prison cell, eyes downcast, feet dragging along the cold concrete, acting like you don't know why you're there. Again.

And he'll entertain that, happily. You've gone through all this trouble to put him away from life, maybe even to death, the least he can do is give you his full, undivided attention.

It doesn't matter what mood you enter in, somehow, you always work yourself up to this hysterical state. So while you recount the grisly details of what happened the night you lost everyone in your life, he can sit and smile and enjoy the view. Oh, you cry, you scream, you spill your tortured soul all over the unforgiving prison floor. Your rage can be felt from the other side of the glass, and it's delicious. He cherishes these little talks. He thinks he could keep himself behave for just a little longer if he could keep you around.

ayayayaya I’m sorry for the long ask/rant/brain vomit 😭 it’s late and I’m done with midterms so now I get to stare at a screen and go wooooooow goreeeee

on another note, how terrifying would it be to try to break up w Freddy Krueger and then have a never ending dream where he projects ur breakup texts over and over like WHERE DID WE GO WRONNGGGGG

the message u can’t leave on read 😭

or like you're just trying to get some sleep and Freddy's at ur window with a boombox like.

okay I’ll stop. Have you guessed who I am yet ;)

Ya it's me, I've been on another horror movie kick, but ALSO another true crime kick. It's pretty damn scary and I'm a bit too empathetic cuz. Serial killers r shit people and don't deserve any respect. So I've been into missing persons cases! Is that any better or nah 🤔

hope you're doin okay! Winter approaches us, are you ready for hot chocolate and candy canes 😋

sincerely,

-🕺🕺🕺

ohhhh god i’m sorry i’m responding so late nonnie i’m currently heading into midterms so. not fun. send. help. 😀😀!! oh also thank you !! i’m glad you like them both !! i loooove their dynamic so muchhh <3

ohh is this writing i see??? ok lemme read and come back :p

ok i’m back and yOOOO??? THIS IS INSANE. he thinks he could behave if only to keep you around longer???????? hello handsome 😅😅 i want him 😂😂😅 put me in the cell next to him i’ll show him the real punishment 😞

the dynamic you’ve created so well reminds me of nbc’s hannibal which i think your gay ass would love (affectionate) if u haven’t seen it already u should fr tho it’s got a lot of crime, psychology is a prevalent theme + banger dialogue and also i didn’t wanna mention it but like… fucking freaks at every corner bro 😭 trust me nonnie you’d LOVEE it 🙂‍↕️

i used to be into true crime as a teenager but i’ve distanced myself from it since i’ve grown older because it is so nuanced and just leaves a really bad taste on my mouth what with people treating it like entertainment. retelling the story of someone’s gruesome murder as you do your makeup or mukbang is fucking insane babes 😭😭😭😭😭

idk i just think it has the same sort of thing going on as straight people on booktok.

tldr i avoid both spaces like the plague 💔

oki that’s all from me since it is 1am and i have an early morning tomorrow [gunshot to the head] i hope you’re well lovely! and yeah, i know who you are just by the first two sentences of the ask EVERYTIMEE haha

australia heads into winter later than you guys do, so it’s still relatively warmer here even tho summers over. but yk what sucks?? we don’t get a white christmas cus we don’t have snow here WTF 💔💔💔💔

the aussie yearns for the snow……. (and for five minutes alone with this prisoner guy)

[yanderecrazysie]

hello! i just read “coercion” and was wondering if you could do a part3? maybe like what happens after they get married?? please ignore this if you don’t want to, it’s up to you!

FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING AGGHHHHH-

This is, unfortunately, very short, but it's all I could really think of to write. I'll write more if I think of it, but most likely this is just a short little epilogue for the story!

Sorry it took so long and that it's probably disappointing D:

Part one is here: https://yanderecrazysie.tumblr.com/post/664013806343766016/i-have-a-very-weird-au-request-but-this-just-came

Part two is here: https://yanderecrazysie.tumblr.com/post/667458774470148096/so-ofcourse-the-prince-doesnt-care-and-still

This is part 3

Title: Coercion (Part 3)

Pairings: Iwaizumi x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Iwaizumi is kind of an awful human being

Summary: Once upon a time, there was a little girl named (Y/n), who was treated horribly by her step-family. A prince fell in love with her but she didn’t feel the same. And only he lived happily ever after.

coercion

/noun/

the practice of persuading someone to do something by using force or threats.

The bed you lay on is large and soft. Had it been a few days ago (was it really only that long ago?), you’d have been thrilled to be in anything nicer than a maid’s bunk. Now you’d give anything to be back there, slumbering soundly on that tainted old mattress surrounded by snoring half-strangers.

You cuddled deep into the soft mattress and pulled the suffocating blankets even higher up until they touched your quivering lips. Your eyes remained fixed on the blank off-white plaster across from you, refusing to turn towards the man seated on the bed next to you, even when he let out a sudden sigh.

“We could go for a walk through the gardens?”

Silence, followed by a second sigh.

“Are you hungry? We could get an early lunch or a snack?”

Silence. You could tell that Prince Iwaizumi was frustrated by the way the bed continuously dipped under his shifting weight.

A prince such as him was probably used to getting everything his way and had never suffered a boring hour. He probably had staff members dedicated to entertaining him.

You suppressed a vicious grin when you realized that he had no one left, except for a handful of friends that only visited once a week. He’d been stupid to throw it all away for someone that didn’t want anything to do with him. Had the situation not been as dark as it was, you might’ve felt bad for the spoiled royal brat.

“What do you want to do? I know you don’t want to just stare at the damn wall all day,” Prince Iwaizumi snapped.

Maybe that’s exactly what I want, you thought stubbornly. It beats having to spend time with a manipulative monster like you.

This time Prince Iwaizumi joined in on the silence. It was impossible to know what he was thinking without turning over and looking at his face, but you were not about to concede defeat in any way. The wall had your undivided attention.

“Your brother,” Prince Iwaizumi said quietly.

Your entire body locked up as your mind frantically began working again. Was he planning to threaten Kanji again? Or did he just want to talk about him? Is Kanji okay? Did something happen?

Sensing your distress, Prince Iwaizumi laid his hand on your bare shoulder in what he probably thought was a reassuring gesture, “No, don’t freak out. I just… we could go see him.”

You tore your stubborn gaze from the wall and turned to the man next to you. Your stomach turned at the sight of your “husband”, but you weren’t about to throw an opportunity like this away.

“Yeah,” you said lamely, not sure what else to say without letting on how eager you were.

Prince Iwaizumi’s lips pulled into a soft smile, and he held out his hand for you to take. You struggled with the dilemma, unsure if he would withdraw permission to visit if you didn’t behave. Instead, he withdrew his hand, smile fading just a little as he motioned for you to follow him.

You kept your distance throughout the walk, eyes darting to take in every inch of the strange castle he’d brought you to. It was honestly beautiful, not to mention huge, and it amazed you to think that it was probably nothing compared to where he’d lived before kidnapping you and fleeing to the middle of nowhere.

I wonder if it was here before and he bought it or if he had it built from scratch.

Maybe, if you tried hard enough, you could pretend that you had married this man willingly.

Maybe, if you tried hard enough, you could live a semi-normal life within the castle walls, or even beyond, with time and trust.

You watched Prince Iwaizumi remove a painting from the wall and retrieve a key from his pocket, sticking it through the little hole in the wall and turning it, revealing the dungeons below.

Maybe, if you tried hard enough, you could find a way to get Kanji and yourself out of this damned castle. And, if necessary, you’d take your “husband” down for good.

There would be no happy ending to this story unless it was for you and your brother.

You’d make sure of that.

[sg-marshall]

sims 4 trait legacy challenge

Overview:

This is a ten generation legacy challenge based on some characteristics people can possess. Each generation will be based upon a new trait. The style and gender of the generation is completely up to you (I usually play as women but gender does not matter in this challenge)! Complete all goals before focusing on the next generation. Some may play onto each other, so be sure to look ahead before moving forward! I created an adapted version for people who do not have the packs I used listed below the challenge. I wanted to make sure everyone could play and not feel left out!

Rules:

No cheats or mods!

Start off with $20,000 and a build a house wherever you want one.

Complete all six goals for every generation before moving onto the next one.

Complete the full aspiration and reach level 10 in the set career.

There is no rules when it comes to aging up but I suggest waiting until it is their set birthday.

Play on normal life span.

Packs Used: Base Game, Discovery University, Seasons, City Living, Get to Work, Cats and Dogs, Parenthood, Spa Day, and Knifty Knitting

Generation One: Responsibility

You are a very old fashioned person who believes things have a certain way of being done. Every object in your house has a set place, the person you marry you are supposed to stay with forever, and the world should be a clean place to live in. Never once have you strayed away from your beliefs and you’ve always lived your life by the book. Even once your partner dies and you are left with a child who cannot handle their passing, you stay true to your morals. (EDIT: I have been playing this challenge myself and found that the final level of the aspiration said “have a child master a career”. I do not know if you have to be in the household for that, but if you do, just add this generation to the household of the next one before they master it. It is also okay if you want to ignore/cheat this part.)

Traits: Neat, Good, Green Fiend

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Career: Education (Administrator Branch)

Goals:

Max charisma skill.

Max research and debate skill.

Be married as a young adult, but have your partner die (do not tell your child how) once they reach adult hood. Never remarry.

Have only one child with your partner.

Complete the snowglobes collection and have them set up in a specific room in your house.

Make your neighborhood green and keep it that way.

Generation Two: Determined

You’ve always struggled to cope with the death of your father/mother ever. Maybe that's because you never really knew why they died in the first place. Left with too many questions to handle, you destroy your relationship with your friends and family and run away to find some answers. This entails a trip to Sixam, where you can finally wrap ahead around the passing of you mom/dad. You decide to come home just in time to see your mom/dad just before they too pass away. After a heart-breaking conversation, you realize that all the secrecy was for the best.

Traits: Gloomy, Ambitious, Loner

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Career: Astronaut (Interstellar Smuggler Branch)

Goals:

Max rocket science skill.

Max mischief skill.

Build a rocket ship and fly to Sixam.

Run away and live on your own as a teenager. 

Have a horrible relationship with your mom/dad as a young adult, but become best friends with them before they pass away.

Complete the microscope prints collection.

Generation Three: Loving

Your mother/father was extremely distant growing up, which caused you to rely on friends as your family. Your childhood best friend has been with you every step of the way, and you ended up fell in love with them. All you wanted to do was be a mother/father, but found out you could never have children. You adopt a child as a baby and raise them as your own, teaching them everything you wish your parents did for you.

Traits: Romantic, Family - Oriented, Foodie

Aspiration: Soulmate

Career: Babysitter (Teenager), None (Young Adult and older)

Goals:

Max parenting skill.

Max wellness skill.

Marry your childhood best friend.

Adopt a baby after you get married.

Teach your toddler to max all skills.

Have a side passion of knitting.

Generation Four: Intelligence

You grew up incredibly smart with no knowledge of who your real parents were. However, that never mattered to you. Your adoptive parents have made it their life goal to advance your gifts in every way they know how. Late nights of helping you with homework, early mornings of finishing projects, and spending their fortunes to enroll you into the college of your dreams. All you wanted to do was repay them by becoming a world renowned journalist. You dedicate your best-sellers to them because, after all, they’ll always be your biggest fan.

Traits: Genius, Bookworm, Unflirty

Aspiration: Academic

Career: Writer (Journalist Branch)

Goals:

Max logic skill.

Max writing skill. 

Reach level eight in five other skills of your choice.

Go to the University of  Britechester and study Language and Literature (distinguished).

Join the Debate Guild and reach the highest rank.

Write five novels.

Generation Five: Hard - Working

Fashion has been your passion since you were a little girl/boy. You even asked your parents to stop dressing you as a toddler because the clothes they picked were “not stylish enough.” As a self-proclaimed style icon, you knew you had to make your biggest dream come true: to create your own fashion line. So, as soon as you graduated high school, you packed your bags and moved to the big city - San-Myshuno. There you created your social media platform and blew up! A normal life was never your style, and you made sure to put in as many hours as it would take to achieve all you ever wanted.

Traits: Perfectionist, Self - Assured, Materialistic

Aspiration: City Native

Career: Style Influencer (Stylist Branch)

Goals:

Max photography skill.

Max painting skill.

Must live in San-Myshuno.

Complete the crystals collection.

Hire a nanny for your child and do not spend much time with them.

Gain 10,000 followers on Simstagram.

Generation Six: Resilience

After being known as “the child of the most famous fashion designer” all your life, the city became a toxic place for you. You hated the loud noises, constant stream of people, and just wanted to live a quiet life. You loved visiting your grandmother/father’s house and hearing one of her/his famous stories. You decided to pull inspiration from one of their novels and live off by the coast in the adorable Brindleton Bay. Your passion for crafting and living off the land inspired you to start a small business selling your candles and juice - all locally grown of course. 

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Maker, Creative

Aspiration: Master Maker

Career: Freelancer (Simply Crafted)

Goals:

Max fabrication skill.

Reach level eight in both candle making and juice fizzing.

Move to Brindleton Bay as a young adult.

Have four or more kids.

Complete the frog collection.

Never go to an event in the city or visit the city once you are a young adult.

Generation Seven: Carefree

Being in a big family is can be hectic at times. So, you decided to be the happy jokester in the middle just trying to get people to crack a smile. And you got really good at it. As a major people person, you made sure to get to know everyone you meet. You even started a tradition of taking a picture with them so you could never forget that moment. Your friends will always invite you to go out because you are known for being the life of the party. However, the parties you host, are even better. You decide to live life as if it was one big stage, and you’re the star performer.

Traits: Goofball, Clumsy, Outgoing

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Entertainer (Comedian Branch)

Goals:

Max comedy skill.

Max singing skill.

Host a party every week.

Take a photo of every person who visits you.

Marry someone you met just two days before.

Attend every festival or event you are asked to attend.

Generation Eight: Kind

Expected to be just like your mother/father, no one ever assumed you would be the quiet kid who preferred reading over partied. However, that is exactly who you were. When it was that time of the week for a new social event, you either left for the library or locked yourself in your room, praying it ended soon. Your parents noticed you struggled talking to people, so they allowed you to adopt a puppy once you became a teenager. You and your dog instantly became best friends and you took them everywhere. Even though you may not be great with people, being compassionate was a skill you ranked high in. You always looked out for the less fortunate and wanted to provide in anyway you could.

Traits: Vegetarian, Loner, Good

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals

Career: Gardner (Floral Designer Branch)

Goals:

Max gardening skill.

Max flower arranging skill.

Keep up a garden of just flowers.

Adopt strays: one dog, and two cats.

Marry an ambitious sim.

Donate $100 to charity weekly.

Generation Nine: Impulsive

You grew up hearing stories of your grandmother/father’s so called “wild days” and fell in love with the energy it brought. However, your mom/dad raised you better than to go out spending life as if there was no consequences. Finding a balance started off to be very challenging for you. You could never hold down relationships and even got pregnant/got someone pregnant twice. It wasn't until you became a secret agent and learned how to live two lifestyles: one full of fun and adventure; the other more stable and structured.

Traits: Active, Non-Committal, Bro

Aspiration: Bodybuilder

Career: Secret Agent (Diamond Agent Branch)

Goals:

Max fitness skill.

Max handiness skill.

Go to either college for Psychology and play soccer.

Have four failed relationships and never get married.

Have two children from two different relationships.

Move three times once you become a young adult.

Generation 10: Passionate

Because your mother/father’s job required you to move around so much, making real life friends was a lot harder than it seemed. So, you built your relationships within the online community. Every day, you and your closest friends would hop online and compete in tournaments or even play for fun. As the years went on, you became really good at coding and even started working on your own apps. You looked up to the players from ESports Gaming - only the best gamers in the world - and longed to be sitting in one of their spots. And sure enough, after years of perfecting your strategies and game plays, your dreams came true!

Traits: Geek, Hot-Headed, Outgoing

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Tech Guru (ESport Gamer Branch)

Goals:

Max programming skill.

Max video gaming skill.

Complete the MySims Trophies collection.

Attend and compete in every Geek Con convention.

Make five video games or apps.

Mentor your child/ren for five hours each.

Adaptations:

Gen 1:

If you do not have Discover University, go into the Business career (Management Branch).

Max cooking skill if you do not have Discover University.

If you do not have City Living, complete the postcards collection.

Gen 2:

Unlock the secret world in Oasis Springs if you do not have Get to Work.

Gen 3:

If you do not have Parenthood but do have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Parenthood and Get to Work, max the gourmet cooking skill.

If you do not have Spa Day but do have Knifty Knitting, max the knitting skill.

If you do not have both Spa Day or Knifty Knitting, max the photography skill.

If you do not have Knifty Knitting, have a side passion of photography.

Gen 4:

If you do not have Discover University, read a new skill book every week instead of attending university.

Gen 5:

If you do not have City Living, have the  Fabulously Wealthy aspiration.

If you do not have City Living, live in Oasis Springs.

Gen 6:

Do not have a career if you do not have Eco-Lifestyle. Instead, craft item on the woodworking for money.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, max the fishing skill instead of reaching level eight in candle making and juice fizzing.

If you do not have Cats and Dogs, move to Evergreen Harbor.

If you do not have both Cats and Dogs or Eco-Lifestyle, live in Willow Creek

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the self-assured trait instead.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the Angling Ace aspiration.

Gen 7:

If you do not have City Living but do have Get Together, max the dancing skill.

If you do not have both City Living or Get Together, max the mixology skill.

Gen 8:

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, have the Freelance Botanist aspiration.

Do not have a career if you do not have Seasons. Instead, sell your plants for money.

If you do not have Seasons but have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Seasons or Get to Work, max the violin skill.

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, but have Seasons, own three bees nests and two insect nests instead of owning pets.

If you do not have both Dogs and Cats or Seasons, have three children instead of having three pets.

If you do not have City Living, have the cheerful trait.

Gen 9:

If you do have Strangerville, go into the Military Career (I do not have it, so I played as a Secret Agent)

If you do have Snowy Escape, have the adventurous trait instead of the active trait (I do not have it but believe they would be adventurous).

If you do not have Discover University, read five skill books over different topics, instead of going to college.

Gen 10:

If you do not have City Living, compete in an online tournament weekly instead of going to Geek Con.

[sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw]

Immortal - 1, Introduction (kinktober)

Kaminari Denki - Electricity

Warnings: 18+ (minor dni), non-consensual touching, electricity, creepy Denki, running, not edited

Word count: 3,185 (this is longer than all the other parts)

Masterlist

Part 1 | Next

October

The month that had become dedicated to stories and decorations on store shelves that ranged from spooky to creepy. But there was a strange unsettled feeling resting in the air this year. You felt it in the cool breeze and the whispers as people talked about the missing heroes from the past two years.

It was hard to believe the year was almost over. Especially when it felt like it had only just started, but here you were. You checked the clock and found your shift was done. You promptly wrapped up what you were doing and practically skipped out, with a book in hand. On your way out, your ear caught snippets of a conversation.

"It's horrible what happened."

"I wonder if it's going to happen again this year."

Right.

Two years ago, in October, the famous incident occurred when several students from U.A. went missing during a mission they had all been on. No one could ever find a single trace of them.

You pondered on it as you walked on the sidewalk with your book tucked under your arm. The sky was a deep blue and the air you breathed in was crisp and refreshing. And you were off work for the rest of the day. Which meant you could finally read more of the book that had been sitting on your counter for the past month. And it was a perfect day to read outside.

But you couldn’t stop recalling the strange, seemingly related event that happened last year. The next year after the disappearance, also October, two more heroes who had only just recently graduated from U.A. vanished the same way. It was also around that time when they realized that the villains Shigaraki and Dabi never showed their faces again, and the League of Villains seemed to be looking for them.

However horrible the disappearances, it soon faded into past news and life went on like nothing had ever happened. However, when the calendar changed to October once more, everyone was on edge. The heroes seemed more cautious, the public held their breath in anticipation.

You did your best not to care. It put a sick feeling in your stomach. Hopefully your book would manage to distract you.

Upon finding a nice bench, with a view of the nearby forest, you sat down with a content sigh and flipped the book open. Thankfully, it worked. You slipped into the story, hardly even noticing when you flipped the page or even when the clouds began to block out the sun. You only stopped when it became nearly too dark to read the page. You looked up.

Night had fallen. Shadows stretched and covered everything like a blanket. The only bit of natural light was a dim blue that was sure to fade soon enough.

Your heart beat fast. You closed your book and started in the direction of your apartment. There were always stories. Stories you knew were real. Stories that you'd hear all throughout the whole year, about people staying out too late at night and running into the wrong people. Real monsters.

This was your plan until you spotted somethin- no, someone moving. In the darkness, it took you a moment to see them more clearly. Someone in black and gray from head to toe, not a single bit of skin showing. And one in yellow, a top hat, and a theater mask. It took a moment, but you recognized these two as villains. You stumbled back. They were on the news once, and now they were there. You could see them. They could see you if they looked, they just hadn't yet. Or had they?

Your hands shook. Your limbs were frozen for a few precious seconds. Seconds that you could have used to get away. You ran to the forest. It was the first place you thought of. Maybe you could hide in the trees if they followed you. It was certainly a better option than running in the middle of the street.

The shadows swallowed you. You rushed past the tall trees that loomed over you. Twigs snapped beneath you. The sound of your own terrified breathing filled your ears. So loud, you thought everyone could hear.

The thought of actually stopping to hide finally occurred to you. You ducked behind a tree, hoping it was wide enough to completely hide you. Your eyes darted everywhere. You stopped breathing, praying that you wouldn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Nothing. Just the wind in the trees above. The leaves were so dark they looked more black than the sky above you.

Suddenly, your eye caught something that you missed. It was large. You jumped, as if some primal instinct were prepared for a giant monster. It didn’t move. You squinted and let out the breath you were holding.

It was a mansion. There were no lights on inside of it, and the wood was so dark it almost blended in. You never heard about this being here.

You wondered if anyone lived in it. Maybe they could help you. Though, it thankfully seemed like you weren’t being followed. It would be easy to just walk up and get a closer look. With a hand against the tree, you considered your options, to stay or check it out.

Your curiosity won the day.

You stayed low, prepared to dive behind a tree or bush, or duck underneath the mansion porch's railing. Almost every sound was amplified in your ear, making you jump. Which included the sounds even you were making.

The door wasn't locked. It swung open with ease, seemingly inviting you in.

You were considering whether you should enter, when you heard a distant, deep voice behind you. Your heart leaped from out of your chest. Following the voice, now another one, were footsteps. Without a second thought, you dashed inside and closed the door.

The entrance was large and open. Two staircases across from you. Two rooms to the left and right. You stepped into the left room to peer through one of the windows. You walked closer and closer to it. But no matter how close you looked, even when your nose was nearly against the cold glass, you could only see black. You stepped back in confusion.

It was the moment that you heard the door opening that you realized there was nowhere to truly hide in the left room. You quietly ran and dove under the table in the right room. Probably a dining room. The old carpet was rough against your elbows propping you up. You willed yourself to stop breathing as you watched their feet slowly tread in.

"I don't remember this mansion wasn't here last time we searched here," one said.

The other closed the door behind him.

"Yeah. This place is cool, but a little creepy. It's old and boring!"

"You don't suppose this mysterious mansion would have anything to do with Shigaraki's and Dabi's disappearance?"

"Hopefully, definitely not! Everyone's been looking for them for a long time. But I think the voice behind the screen cares more about Shigaraki."

You couldn't hold your breath anymore. You tried to be as quiet as you possibly could, but the small amount of air you allowed yourself just made you breathe faster and heart race. What were they doing here? Still looking for Shigaraki? You resisted the urge to peek up at them. If you could see them, they could see you. But somehow even looking at just their feet filled you with anxiety. Jumping every time one seemed to walk towards you. You wished the table was lower. That there was a long tablecloth that would hide you. That they wouldn’t see you.

"We should tell Kurogiri about this. Let's just leave."

"I agree." A moment passed. He tapped his foot against the floor. "I seem to not have a signal here."

A few seconds and some rustling. "Me neither. I'll go out and make the call."

His heavy steps left, leaving the other to wait behind, but only for a second.

"Um, you might need to see this. We're screwed."

"Hm?" He promptly left, leaving you alone.

You considered getting up and running away. But where would you hide? Would you be fast enough to hide somewhere else? Maybe you could open a win-

"How… did this happen?"

"I don't know! I just walked out and saw the ground wasn't there anymore! Or the trees or anything!"

You barely concealed a gasp. The door slammed shut and you saw two pairs of feet walk in once more. They debated for what felt like hours. Your nerves were shot and it felt like your elbows had rugburn. Finally, they walked up the stairs. You waited just a little longer until you heard a door closed. And even longer, until you were sure.

You slid yourself out from under the table. That couldn't be true, right? You ran to the door on your tippy toes, wincing every time you made the slightest sound. The door opened after a gentle twist.

You looked out. And sure enough. There was nothing beyond the porch but an endless black. Not the kind of black when everything's too dark to see. Even then, the shadows had depth. This.. seemed to stretch on forever.

You rushed back in and grabbed a vase on a wooden stand. Fragile white with turquoise lines that formed diamonds. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do. You lowered the vase to the dark, one hand on the floor board while the other reached down as far as you could with the vase in hand.

The vase never touched the ground. With a sigh, you let go of it. It dropped and dropped. Fell and fell, slowly spinning… until you couldn’t see it anymore. You listened for a crash, some sign that it reached the bottom, but the only sound was your own breath.

No bottom in sight.

This had… this had to just be some sort of quirk. Some sort of… defense for someone living there. It was the only explanation. That had to be it. You weren't trapped there with no way out, right?

You sat up. You cautiously glanced into the room before stepping in. You hadn’t noticed that it should be too dark to see anything. But somehow you could, like dim light coming from a moon that didn't exist.

A red carpet led to the staircase, then split to go up each set of stairs. Between the two sets of stairs was a book on a stand. One you hadn’t noticed.

You opened up a window and looked out. The void was still there. Still wrapping around the mansion. The only thing that existed now was you and this house. And the villains.

You wrestle with your pocket while dashing to a dark corner beside a table, and ripped your phone out. It nearly fell out of your hands as you turned it on and dialed the first contact you saw. Dial tone. The number was unavailable. You texted your parents. The text couldn't get through. Zero bars. You could get onto social media or make a Google search. But you could post or message anyone. Not one word, not on a single forum.

Your hands trembled. You ran one through your hair, grabbed onto the roots, and pulled. It didn’t even hurt. Nothing to distract you from your situation.

What to do. What to do. Well, hiding there was doing nothing good. Maybe you could search for a way out. Or find the owner and tell them what had happened.

There was no way you were going through the dooring up the stairs. You wanted to avoid the villains at all costs. You picked the door on ground level to the right. Book shelves were lined against the wall. There was no dust, but something gave you the feeling they hadn't been used in a long time. No lights, but strangely lit like the room before. You walked through the next door. A bedroom. The bed was sloppily made. Maybe it was the lack of people, but something unsettled you. Nothing felt quite right. But perhaps this was reasonable considering nothing else about the mansion was normal.

You reached for the knob of yet another door when you heard footsteps on the other side. That was your chance. You should have seen who it was, if they could have helped you. But there had been almost no real sign of anyone being in the mansion up until then. Even with the used bed, what if the villains had found another way downstairs? What if they were about to catch you?

You turned and made a dash. Through every door you'd been through so far. You should have just hid under the bed, but you didn't think of it at the time. You just wanted to get as far as you could.

When you got back to the entrance, your heart dropped in horror when you saw the villains emerging from the doors at the top of the stairs. They hastily ran out of it and firmly closed it behind them.

"Who is that!?" The louder of the two said.

Blood pounded in your ears. You didn’t stop. You were already opening the door in the left room and pulled the door shut behind you, still running.

How did they get there? Were they actually following you? Was it someone else you had run from? Was any of this even real?

You lost track of how many rooms you had run into. This one was hardly any different from the others. Same dark red wallpaper. There was a wardrobe, but did that really make a difference? You stopped in front of a window. Black. The moment you stopped was the moment your exhaustion hit you. Your legs and chest ached. You glanced at the door quickly then stared at the window.

Was this real? Was this all some sick dream?

You opened up the window.

If this was a dream and you fell, you would wake up.

You leaned out, placing your hands on the farm and beginning to lift a knee. The whole time you just stared into the nothingness.

"Woah, that's not a good idea," a cheerful voice behind you said, pulling you back by your waist.

Your back hit the stranger's chest. You twisted your head back to see who it was. His blond hair was long enough to reach his stubble covered jawline. He looked to be in his twenties, and was familiar for some reason. None of the villains, fortunately.

You breathed a much needed, heavy sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness you're not them."

“Nope, I’m Kaminari. Kaminari Denki. Wow! It’s been forever since I’ve talked with someone new. Hi, I’m Denki. Oops I already said that.”

You raised an eyebrow at his behavior. He held you a little too tightly. It was then you noticed you were too close together, with his crotch against your rump. You, embarrassed, gently pushed him away and he let go.

“Nice to meet you too. Kaminari? That sounds familiar.”

“Maybe you heard of me from the U.A. Sports Festival?”

“U.A…? Wait! Chargebolt? One of the U.A. students that went missing two years ago!??”

“The one and only.” He puffed his chest out.

“But.. what? That’s not possible. You look like you’re twenty-five or something.”

“You’re right, I am! It’s been so long since I had someone else to talk to! Did I already say that?”

He held your hand and pulled it close to him. Electricity sparked, going straight into your hand and making you jump.

“Sorry.” He smiled with concern in his eyes. “I have a little bit of a hard time controlling it now. Especially when I’m this excited.” His other hand reached towards you.

You stepped back and pulled your hand away. “Don’t touch me, please.”

He tilted his head, like he didn’t understand. But he didn’t come any closer.

"By the way, who were you talking about earlier? I’m not who?"

"Villains! They came in here after I ran in to hide from them."

“Really? What did they look like?”

“Twice and Mr. Compress. Twice has a black and gray suit, and Mr. Compress has a top hat, a mask, and a yellow jacket. Did you see them?”

“Yeah, I did. Actually, I saw them coming this way.” He pointed towards the door he had just come from.

“What!? Oh no…” your head whipped around, eyes scanning everywhere for a place to hide.

“I know a place to hide! In here.” Kaminari opened the wardrobe.

He quickly stepped in and moved to make room for you. You slid the hanging coats and clothing to one side and closed the door with just a small crack to see. It was too cramped for you. It was uncomfortably warm, but you would take it.

Your heart pounded in your ears. It was hard to see anything in the room with the small slit. Even then, you prayed they wouldn’t see you through the crack. If they did, you’d be finished with nowhere to run.

His fingers were against your waist, something you hardly even noticed because of the adrenaline. But they began rubbing circles into you, small tingles of electricity tickled you. One slipped down to the dip where your legs attached to the rest of your body. He pressed against your butt, at first you assumed it was simply him adjusting and the lack of room, but he didn't move. In fact, he pushed himself flush against you. You felt something warm and hard between your cheeks through the fabric of yours and his pants. If you tried to back away, the wardrobe door would open more, and the villains might come in any time.

"Please stop," you whispered.

He didn’t stop. He rubbed his head against the back of yours. He breathed in contently.

His hand rubbing you fell to your hip, then up again, into your shirt. You felt him drag against your soft skin. Reaching up to your bra. He made a clumsy effort to slip beneath it before squeezing and massaging it with the bra still on. Tiny sparks from his fingertips only drew your attention to this. You jolted when one ran over your nipple.

"Hey," you tried to sound angry, but it came out as a whine.

Much to your dismay, you felt your core growing unbearably warm. You wanted to stop him, but you froze. Your breaths were heavy. It didn’t help when he dipped his hand into your pants. Electricity somehow teased your clit through your panties. You barely held the moan in your throat.

"We can't be doing this," you said as a final attempt, "What if they hear?"

His lips fluttered against your skin. "Who will hear?"

"What do you mean? The villains… they are…" Did he actually see them coming?

He chuckled and ran a finger against your waistband. "We're gonna have some fun."

Next

[foodieforthoughts]

Hey!

I’m not exactly sure how to “ask for a request”, I hope I don’t sound rude. I’m wondering if you could do a little somethin somethin..

Based on me, if that’s okay. Here’s what I’m thinking:

23 year old from Australia, moved to London and works as a Youth Worker, with Henry. I just truly admire Henry, he seems so kind and smart. I just love to imagine that we’d be each other’s rock. I’m also half Italian, so I have lots of stories about my crazy family. And pasta. I love pasta.

Hey honey. You are not sounding rude at all. And you work as a youth worker? You truly are an amazing person ♥️ here's a little drabble for you, included Italian sentences but I hope I am not wrong about it. I hope you like it 🥰

Title: Better half

You felt your heart swell as the kids around you cheered your name. They were your children, even if not related to you biologically, they were your family. They had come from broken families, struggling with their lives and you had seen them grow from despairing little angels to be transformed into joyful spirits full of life.

It was stressful at times though. For you to be someone's shoulder to lean on, you had to be strong and it left you drained sometimes. If it wouldn't have been for the man with his group of kids a few feet away, you wouldn't have survived.

Henry had actively decided to join you at the child support centre on weekends. His schedule overlapped with his dedication to work at the centre but he made it a point to keep a tab on the kids he helped. He had donated a hefty sum for the development of the compound, but it was his angelic human nature to provide that made you fall in love.

You urged your kids to get back to their activity and decided to stand back and watch Henry interact with his group. He had a little girl perched on his thigh while he read from a children's book. Kids of various ages were sitting on the mowed grass and listening to him attentively. It made things easier for him since they already looked up to him as Superman, even if he didn't require much help. He was a natural with them.

Sometimes you couldn't believe how you got so lucky. Moving to a foreign land from your home country had been difficult in itself. You had gone home with a heavy heart everyday, replaying the horrible things that had happened to some of the kids at the centre. When the days were better, you didn't have anyone to share that joy with. You weren't lonely, but it always seemed nice to have someone by your side.

And that's when you had stumbled upon Henry.

You had gone on a field trip with the kids and Henry had been casually walking his dog in the park. The kids had screamed when they had noticed him, excited and enthusiastic, running to Henry and Kal. You had been worried they would be a nuisance for him, you knew celebrities would much rather be left on their own most of the times. But he was nothing like you expected him to be.

Henry had happily listened to the kids, letting them play with Kal and also told them fun facts about his childhood. He had gone out of his way to buy ice cream for everyone too and that is when you both had spoken to each other. He had been attentive while you had told him about your work, asking for ways in which he could help. The kids had gone back to the centre happy and satisfied that day and you, with a new found respect for Henry.

Two more times you ran into him and on the third day, he asked for your number.

"Hey," Henry nudged your shoulder with his, pulling you out of your reverie.

"Hey, you."

"I think I can come with you for the whole week this time. The kids really want me to come and I spoke to my manager and got atleast a couple of hours cleared up." He grinned at you. Bringing his arm around your shoulder, he stood with his hand on his hip, watching as his group played along with their friends.

You took a moment to gaze at him. Henry had so quickly become your everything. He was kind-hearted, considerate, loving and perspective. Even if you were still getting to know him, there was nothing that would make you think lowly of him. He was a beautiful human being, inside and out, and it left you stunned sometimes.

"I love you, Henry." You whispered, putting your arm around his waist. "You are my rock."

"I love you too, baby." He said, smiling and discreetly placing a kiss on your forehead.

"How about this, when we go home, I can pull out my grandma's pasta recipe and we both can cook dinner together?"

Henry nodded with a huge smile on his face. "Sì bellissima." You blushed as he effortlessly spoke Italian, one of the many reasons that had made you love him even more. "Farei tutto per te."

"I'd do anything for you too." You laid your head on his shoulder, looking at the kids and feeling blessed with a man who was most certainly your better half.

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Seven)

Chapter Seven: Sweet Fulfilment

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

The silence that fell upon them in Rossi’s backyard was so heavy, no one dared to break it. Derek was brave enough to stand and follow Y/N into the house, most likely to drive her home. The rest received the message and began to dwindle away, until only Ashley and Spencer were left.

Spencer absentmindedly fiddled with the top of his cane, still stunned into silence from Y/N’s heavy confession. He could feel Ashley’s eyes on him, but didn’t bother looking at her. His mind was racing ten times faster than it ever had before.

Ashley breathed out a sigh and kept it simple and straightforward, “Do you love her?” She asked softly. 

He wished to hear some malice in her tone, thinking it might make him feel something other than shock, but all he heard was curiosity. He didn’t even have to think to find the answer, but which answer was he willing to give?

“Yes.” He said, not even having the audacity to see the reaction it brought upon her eyes. 

He should have felt horrible for hurting Ashley, but he couldn’t bring it upon himself to feel anything but relief as he replayed Y/N’s words in his head. He heard her move to stand up and remained motionless as she left him on the couch. She went inside and Spencer deduced that she’d probably already taken her car and returned home. He’d have to find a different ride home but that was the least of his problems right now.

No one knew what to tell him as he passed them in the spacious living room a half hour later. No one knew where to start with him, but their unrelated hushed conversations continued on. Y/N had stupefied them all, but him especially. His heart should have been soaring because of her confession, but he knew he’d have to give Ashley a proper goodbye. She deserved one, even though he had quite literally used her in the most ungentlemanly of ways. He hadn’t let themselves get too invested in the relationship, though. He’d always kept her at arm’s length for fear of getting too attached. 

The next day, he’d promptly gone to her apartment and given a heartfelt apology. She’d let him know how hurt she was and that she was not going to be returning to the BAU. He still felt bad, but once again, he felt like he could breathe. Like the air knew its way back to his lungs. 

The weekend came and went, silence on both ends. Both lovers just stewing in their own pots. Both pots teeming with unadulterated, unconditional love and affection for one another. It could barely be contained at this point. Time seemed to float by and before they knew it they were back in the office. A new month had just begun. She felt new, she felt like she’d peeled off a layer of her skin, one that had been holding her back, trapping her within the confines of herself.

With the new month, she was called in early to have the routine monthly meeting with Hotch where they went over the itinerary of the next month. They liked to plan whatever they could given that half of the BAU’s job was unpredictable.

“So, I have here the form that Strauss asked for. Also, the 6th floor’s printer is a literal piece of junk and I’ve typed up a formal proposal so that maybe we could get a new one? I coordinated with Penelope about the funds and she says there are sufficient funds for a new printer.” Y/N said, handing Hotch a typed document. 

Even after all these years, her dedication to this job continues to blow him away. He’d come to see her as a work-daughter. He has taught her so much over the past few years and he’ll always have a special place in her heart. He nodded, glancing over the document.

“Great, I trust you and Penelope will pick an adequate printer.” He paused, sending her a smile. He noticed the slight glimmer in her eye, “I know you’ve been having a rough few months, Y/N, and it’s not technically my place to get involved in your personal life, as your boss, but as your friend, I hope you know that I am available to help you in any way I possibly can.”

Her whole face formed into a fond smile, “Thanks, Hotch and yes, I know.” She chuckled slightly.

“You are a dedicated employee and a wonderful person. If you ask me--” He was interrupted by his office door slamming open, showcasing an absolutely beaming Dr. Spencer Reid in the doorway.

“Hotch, I am so sorry to interrupt your meeting,” Spencer’s eyes flew from Hotch to Y/N, his attention now zeroed in on her. He leaned into the office, not fully entering, “are you free for dinner tonight?” he asked in a rushed manner, as if not getting a fast answer would somehow make him lose all the confidence he’d mustered up.

“M-me? Yes! I mean, yes, I’m free tonight.” Y/N answered, flustered at the interruption as well as the question. Spencer’s face split into a grin and he tapped the doorframe once awkwardly.

“Great, then...it’s a date.” He raised his brows and tried to lessen his grin as he snuck a glance at Hotch before gracelessly forming his lips into a line and scurrying out of the small office.

Y/N turned back to Hotch quickly with eyes widened with disbelief and a face totally failing to contain the utter joy she felt, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Hotch only responded with a knowing smile at the precious interaction he’d just witnessed firsthand.

First dates were supposed to be awkward, however, their first date was anything but. Spencer had showed up with a fresh haircut, his shoulder length hair cut into a dreamy, swoopy style that sat along his forehead comfortably. It was so much more attractive than Y/N could outwardly-or inwardly- admit. His knee was now fully healed and no longer needed his cane which allowed them to walk around the city freely.

They’d both realized how stupid and blind they’ve been over the years. Y/N confessed to feeling especially stupid for staying with Anderson for so long, even when she had realized her true feelings for Spencer. Time had passed them by like it was nothing. 

Spencer, like the true gentleman he is, insisted he’d walk her home. He’d feel more comfortable knowing she was safe, not to mention that he was extremely curious about her new apartment. He hadn’t expected Y/N to invite him in, but of course she did, because that was who she was. She was warm and inviting, and if she was being honest, she didn’t want the night to end yet.

“I’m sorry about the mess, I haven’t really been in the right headspace these past few weeks.” She said, walking him inside. He took a look around and noticed a few unpacked boxes out of place but he definitely wouldn’t characterize it as messy. 

He chuckled softly and shrugged, “Trust me, it’s fine.” Her shoulders dropped with relief slightly and she returned his lightheartedness by smiling and flopping onto the couch.

“It’s been so long since I’ve lived on my own. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the silence.” Y/N said, but only realized how sad it must have sounded after she said it. Spencer took a seat next to her on her small, but comfortable couch.

“I feel quite the opposite, I think I’ve been living on my own for--for a long time.” He said, thinking back to his days but pushing away the especially dark parts. 

She dared to glance at him, seeing him in her space was so...different. So refreshing. It’s like this apartment needed Spencer in it for it to feel complete. Or maybe that was her heart speaking. Maybe both the apartment and her heart needed Spencer to feel whole. Her glance had long been forgotten and had turned into a longing gaze instead.

“Spencer, I-” She gazed at him, feeling the words get caught up in her throat before she could have had the chance to voice them. Besides, what words would ever be able to convey the way she felt towards him? 

Words escaped her when he looked at her like that--all soft eyes and a fond, lopsided smile, despite his curiosity at her interrupted sentence. She made the mistake of glancing at his lips, the lips that were so appealing, practically calling her name. The ones she’d caught herself daydreaming about for years and years on end. His proximity was intoxicating and before she could doubt herself, she closed the gap between them, her hands attaching themselves to the lapels of his blazer to pull him ever so slightly closer.

His lips were just as warm and inviting as she’d remembered them, but this time the kiss tasted sweeter, it was no longer tainted with suppressed guilt and confusion. His lips tasted like certainty. It was clear that she’d finally found what she’d been missing all these years. The gentle push and pull of the kiss was invigorating to them both. His slightly calloused hands found her flushed cheeks, each thumb delicately caressing the delicate skin beneath the pads of his fingers. They’d savored the kiss so much that when they pulled away, two, three, four tender, short kisses followed the initial one.

Almost as if they’d never get enough of each other. Like if the world was ending, it wouldn’t matter, they’d go peacefully, knowing that this is what it was like. That this is what quenched thirst felt like.

“I love you.” She murmured against his lips, breath uneven. She’d known it for as long as she could remember and he’d known it too, but she was past the point of timidness to admit it now. There’s no use in prolonging it, not when she was this certain. 

The pad of his thumb traced a line across her jaw slowly as he heard the words. His face couldn’t contain his smile, teeth almost clashing into each other from their closeness. His warm, amber eyes flitted to hers, visible comfort and reassurance filling his irises. He was transported back to Rossi’s garden when he’d first told her he loved her. She knew, she knew he loved her too, which is why it was so easy.

“I love you, too.” He murmured back, pressing another passionate kiss to her lips, as a quiet admission of love. She could feel the tears gather underneath her closed lids almost as quickly as relief flooded her chest.

They’d decided to keep things under the radar for a while, neither of them too eager to showcase their relationship to the world just yet, excluding Hotch of course. They did their best anyway--or at least they thought they did. Their recent smiley faces and cheery attitudes were not invisible to America’s top profilers and well, Penelope, who was perhaps the sharpest of them all, despite not being trained to analyze behavior like the others.

Exactly two weeks after their first date, Penelope cornered Y/N at her desk around lunchtime, right before the two lovebirds took their daily lunch walk. 

“Spill.” Penelope demanded, her colorful teapot earrings swayed, contradicting the sternness in her voice.

“What are you talking about?” Y/N gazed up at her with genuine confusion.

“Uh-uh, don’t give me that. I know something fishy is going on. I can smell it.” Penelope leaned in closer and began pointing fingers. Y/N barked a laugh.

“Garcia, nothing is going on. Please tell me what you’re talking about.” She laughed, amused at the sight of her friend being so outwardly nosey.

“You think I haven’t noticed you and Boy Wonder--” She was interrupted by a loud clearing of the throat noise from Spencer to announce his presence.

“Garcia, Derek said something about making hot chocolate in the kitchenette and you know how he dips the sugar spoon back into the chocolate mix? Yeah, you should probably--” Spencer lied through his teeth but Penelope wasted no time in rushing off to the kitchenette, groaning about how she hated finding extra sugar in the chocolate.

Spencer caught Y/N’s eye and they both burst out laughing. They quickly made their exit, whispering about how close of a call it was with Garcia. Little did they know, Rossi had caught every little bit of the very tender, intimate kiss they shared before the doors of the empty elevator had closed, leaving him shaking his head at the obliviousness of the two. 

The team decided to make a game out of it very quickly when they all realized. They wanted to see which of them could expose the couple the quickest.

 JJ found extreme joy in trying to set Y/N up with one of Will’s friends right in front of Spencer.

“Come on! This guy’s totally your type, Y/N.” JJ pushed, showing her a picture of a man on her phone, leaning towards her over the top of her desk. Y/N laughed uncomfortably and glanced with panic at Spencer who was watching curiously.

“I don’t know, I d-don’t think I have a type, JJ.” She tried to brush her off, continuing to laugh in discomfort. Emily and Derek almost split their lips as they bit them to try and keep from laughing. They watched Spencer shift nervously in his seat.

“I’m just not interested.” Y/N said, “Thanks, though.” JJ finally gave in and accepted that she’d lost the bet.

Emily tried her hand at “girl-talk”, hoping that maybe Y/N would slip up and tell her about Spencer, but to no avail. That woman’s lips were sealed shut.

Derek and Penelope both tried to follow them around but Spencer and Y/N were far too cautious at work now. Derek actually had to convince Penelope to take the moral high road and refrain from tracking their devices or hacking into their messages.

After trying and failing for so long, the team finally gave up on trying to rat them out and instead decided to respectfully wait for their announcement. 

Y/N realized that she hadn’t technically invited anyone over to her new apartment and decided to throw a somewhat delayed “welcoming party” for herself. She’d cooked dinner, which Spencer did his best to contribute to, decorated the place nicely, and invited the whole team over.

“Thank you all so much for being here. I know this has been a long time coming. I’ve missed our little get-togethers and thought it’d be fitting if I finally host one, given that I now have my own apartment.” Y/N spoke from her place at the head of the dinner table which had barely ever been used before this night. It was a tight squeeze, but her heart soared as she saw the faces of her caring coworkers and friends staring up at her. They all lifted their glasses and gave her a silent toast of appreciation.

Spencer stood from his seat that was to the right of Y/N’s and cleared his throat, “Also, we have an announcement to make.” He timidly began, catching the eager smiles. “Y/N and I are, finally, together.” He waited for the cheers of excitement but nothing but an eerie knowing silence befell the dinner table.

Something clicked in Y/N’s brain as she spotted Rossi handing Hotch something under the table not-so-discreetly, “You all knew?!” She gasped in disbelief. The team broke out into fits of laughter.

“The whole time!” Garcia guffawed. Spencer and Y/N shared a look of incredulity before breaking into laughter themselves. Y/N shyly hid her face in Spencer’s shoulder as he wrapped an affectionate arm around her back.

“You guys thought you were so sneaky.” Derek threw his head back, laughing.

“Wait, so what was all that about?” Y/N asked, referring to Rossi handing Hotch something, “You guys had a bet going?”

“Technically there were two bets going. Everyone else was determined to expose you, which they all failed at, thankfully, while Rossi and I had a separate bet. I said that you’d announce it first and Rossi apparently had more faith in the team.” Hotch explained, smirking triumphantly at Rossi, who appeared delighted despite having lost the bet.

“Bet or not, you two deserve each other. I’m glad you two are happy together. To the lovely couple.” Rossi raised his glass and everyone followed in pursuit.

Spencer turned to Y/N to place a sweet but chaste kiss on her lips, leading everyone to cheer in response.

There was little he could compare to the feeling he had then, but if he had to, he’d compare it to being whole.

previous chapter/epilogue

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thank you all for joining the ride, feedback is always appreciated!

[eskalations]

"I've always known that I was a big target for them - almost as big as Erwin himself - but I never thought they would go after my own daughter." Levi released a dark chuckle at this, closing his eyes in disbelief. 'I can't believe my stupidity. The Titans have cut down families before, I don't know what made me think that mine would be any different."

(Rivetra AU where Petra is a pediatric nurse and Levi is a single father)

Hello! Wow oh wow! I haven't written since August and this oneshot definitely made it more obvious. Originally it was only supposed to be about 5,000 words but it soon grew into the monster that it is now. Will it stay a oneshot forever? I don't know...but for now, it is what it is! Editing this was a nightmare, so I apologize for any missed mistakes, as well as my poor writing skills that have been underutilized for quite some time.

I hope regardless of that, you will still enjoy this! I just finished AOT and this couple's story absolutely gripped my heart. Here you go, Rivetra fandom!

As always, reviews are MUCH appreciated. So please be sure to tell me what you think!

-

Petra Ral was NOT having a good day.

While she had been a night nurse for several years now, her penchant for making rookie mistakes was almost as bad as it had been when she started. Upon crashing into bed at seven this morning, she had completely forgotten to set her alarm for later in the day. Hence, why she was running through the streets of Paradis like a madwoman.

Her co-workers were less than impressed with her dramatic entry onto the ward. Nanaba was glaring at her over the top of the counter, while Nifa bristled from beside the employee water tower.

"Really, Petra?" The spunky redhead commented in a low, disapproving tone - watching as the other ginger woman threw her bag down onto the floor beneath the desk and hurriedly began to punch in her time. "This oversleeping thing is getting pretty old, considering it's six in the afternoon, not six in the morning."

Petra held back a growl as she fumbled with her card, sticking it into the machine but not getting any response due to the shakiness of insertion. Finally, she heard a click and withdrew the parchment. With her heart still racing like mad after her dash up the stairs, she dropped in exhaustion into a vacant chair.

“You say that - “ Petra spoke for the first time since entering Paradis Hospital, her usual chipper voice hoarse from her ragged breathing. “ - but you’re not the one who worked a 12-hour shift yesterday. You were too busy working on that boyfriend of yours to even - "

“Shhhhhh!” Nifa’s face glowed scarlet as she shushed the young woman, her pale skin heating at the vulgar comment. Nanaba just laughed quietly at her friend’s embarrassment, turning her attention back to the file in front of her. All the nurses and doctors bustling about around the counter paid the girls no mind, used to the familiar banter between the three.

"Say what you want about Nifa's love life," Nanaba bristled, pulling out another form from the file in front of her for closer observation. The blonde's eyes cut towards Petra, disapproval evident in her tone. "But your the one who's late today. We had a pretty intense case come into the ward too from emergency."

“What?!” Petra yelped, her nurse’s instincts kicking in instantly at Nananba’s words. Despite her still heaving chest, the young woman sat up straighter to observe the report that was being handed over to her. “Is the child okay?”

"She's stable." Nanaba offered, turning back to the folder on her desk to grab a few more forms. "However, she's going to need to be watched closely throughout the night. The poor thing was stabbed and the blade had poison on it."

Petra wished she could act shocked, but she wasn’t. Paradis Hospital received several stab cases a day due to the gang violence in the area. The Titans certainly weren’t pulling any of their punches when it came to looting. Regardless of whether their victim was eight or eighty, they would steal from anyone with a bit of coin in their pocket.

Stabbings weren't super common on the pediatric ward, but common enough that all the staff who bustled about barely batted an eye at the thought of such an injury being treated on the floor.

"She's already been stitched up and the antidote for the poison has been administered - but, the emergency department sent her up here for monitoring, just in case she relapses," Nifa explained, now leaning over the counter to read the forms Nanaba still held in her hands. The blonde threw her an exasperated look.

“She’s not your patient, so stop being so damn nosy.”

"Well, I've never - " Nifa scoffed at the blonde's scathing tone, though Petra could hear the amusement behind it. "Sorry, for wanting to dedicate my life for the next 12-hours to a hot man with a nice - oh, I mean to a sweet little girl with a -"

"Nifa!" Petra exclaimed, catching on to what the young woman was implying. "Don't tell me you're trying to hit on a little girl's father while she's bedridden in the hospital! Have you no shame?"

“Not really!”

Even Nanaba laughed at Nifa's answer.

"Well, too bad for you, since you have a boyfriend." The blonde reminded her, to which the red-headed nurse simply stuck out her tongue. " - and  Petra has been assigned to be her nurse."

“Me?” Petra had the gall to act surprised, but her friends simply rolled their eyes at her modest response.

“Oh please!" Nifa sighed, crossing her arms over the counter to once again lean closer to the girls on the other side. One of the older doctors, a man with grey hair and spectacles, eyed her disapprovingly as he passed. Nifa didn't even spare him a glance. "While you may be a notorious flake when it comes to arriving on time, it's no secret that they entrust you with the higher priority cases on the ward."

Nifa was right - it wasn't a secret. Since graduating at the top of her class in nursing school, she had always been highly respected for not only her knowledge but bedside manner, as well. Just last year, she had received an award for having the highest satisfaction rate on her floor. Now, if only she could show up to work on time…

“- he’s really short, but his eyes - wow!" Petra was brought back from her thoughts by Nifa's words. Nanaba was shaking her head as she wrote a note down in one of her patient files, trying to tune out the girl's excessive praise. "He's got that rough around the edges look, yet is put together and clean and - "

"I hate to cut you off in the middle of your fantasy - " Petra commented before standing and collecting the patient papers from the desk. "- but I have patients to take care of."

Nifa's mouth popped open in shock, her expression quickly turning to one of disbelief at the sight of Petra's teasing look.

“Says the girl who was LATE!”

Petra chuckled, shrugging her shoulders as she rushed off to her first patient's room, ready to begin her shift with newfound energy. Despite her exhaustion from the night before and the soreness in her limbs, she couldn't approach the job she loved with anything less than excitement and positivity.

Maybe it would be a good day after all.

-

Upon entering Heidi Ackerman's room twenty minutes later though, Petra was once again lamenting the horrible luck that seemed to be plaguing her during the past twenty-four hours.

It wasn't the child who was causing her such discomfort, but her father.

After having checked on and familiarizing herself with the low-risk patients she had been assigned, Petra finally decided to introduce herself to the latest Titan's stab victim that was residing on her ward. Checking the young girl's forms before entering the room, the nurse noticed that the child was due for a round of medication soon anyways.

‘Perfect,' Petra thought to herself while turning the knob of the door. 'If I take care of her medications now, I won’t have to return for another hour and then I can go check on - ‘

Petra's thoughts were interrupted by the sight that met her upon entry to the room.

Nifa wasn’t kidding - the guy was short. Like, really short.

Petra rarely met a male anywhere close to her height - so, the short stature of the figure that stood by the lone window of the room, instantly caught her attention.

The second thing that caught her attention? His looks.

While the man was certainly not attractive by societal standards, his piercing gaze was enough to stop any woman in her path. His eyes were grey and heavily hooded by pale white lids and beneath his stare, lay two dark bags that spoke of a restless nature. Despite the blatant signs of exhaustion, his dark hair lay near perfect across his forehead, the shaved lower half of it buzzed in an undercut fashion.

He was captivating and terrifying all at once.

“Oi, are you just going to stand there?”

His gravelly, low voice broke her from her analysis, jolting her back to reality as he shifted his posture to a more casual stance. Whereas he once stood rigid, he now placed a hand on his hip and schooled his features to resemble something more akin to indifference.

Realizing she had never responded, Petra suddenly jumped into action.

"Oh!" She smiled awkwardly, not quite feeling like her usual self. Typically, talking to patients and their families wasn't so difficult for her, but this guy was unlike her usual clientele. He practically exuded indifference and didn't look very interested in receiving an answer to what she had to assume was a rhetorical question - but Petra did not care. "Hello, my name's Petra Ral, I'll be the night nurse for Miss Heidi."

As if saying her name had reminded her of exactly why she was standing there in the first place, Petra turned her smiling face towards the bed, trying not to show her concern as her gaze fell on the small child.

Heidi Ackerman at five years old had experienced more pain in the past several hours than some adults would face in their entire lifetime. While the child's sweet features could still be seen over the top of the crisp white blankets, the pained lines of her forehead spoke of a quiet distress that had taken a hold of her and refused to let go.

Petra ached to go towards her - however, a snide remark from the man on the other side of the room had her pausing.

“You’re going to attend my child looking like that?” Disgust was evident in the man’s tone as he gave her a once over from top to bottom. “Ever heard of an iron?”

The young woman could feel her face go red at his comment, her eyes glancing down at the outfit she typically wore during her shift - a white nurses uniform, tights, and white slip-ons. The front of her outfit was pristine white - however, the bottom of her skirt had a set of small wrinkles. Petra went redder as she realized that in her confusion to get dressed after having slept in, she had picked up her uniform from the previous night that had been lying atop of the hamper.

Most people wouldn't even have noticed her slightly used uniform, but somehow this man had called her out on it, despite it only having had a few wrinkles of use embedded in the fabric.

Petra was furious. Of course, she wasn't going to show it, since she was a professional - but she couldn’t help but bite back, even if it was just a little.

“Yeah - well you aren’t looking too good either, so I guess we're even.”

The man cocked an eyebrow at her comment, before looking down at himself to see what she was talking about.

In Petra's defense, she hadn't actually looked at the man's clothes. When she had entered the room, she had been so distracted by his face, that she hadn't even gotten the opportunity. But, as he looked down at himself in search of the reason for her comment, Petra was able to give him a once over too. After examining his outfit of choice, Petra had to bite back a groan from the error of her comment.

He was dressed immaculately, wearing a dark brown leather jacket with a white shirt underneath and a pair of slender black jeans on the bottom. On his feet, were a pair of shiny, black combat boots that looked as though they had been polished that very morning.

However, the state of his clothes was not the reason Petra wanted the Earth to swallow her whole. It was the substance on the front of his shirt.

Blood.

“Tch," The man clicked his tongue, having caught sight of the dried, red blood covering his otherwise pristine white shirt. "I guess my child's blood isn't the best accessory to wear, huh?"

Fully embarrassed by her comment, Petra immediately stuck out her hands in defense, forms and all.

“Sir, I’m sorry. I truly didn’t mean - “

“I’m sure.” The words were said with such a quiet finality, that the woman felt her tongue grow heavy in her mouth. Not knowing what else to say, the room fell into an awkward silence that even Petra’s vivacious personality couldn’t conquer.

Perhaps, she had officially met her match.

The man continued to stare at her with his slate-gray eyes as the silence drug on - however, they were both interrupted from their thoughts by a quiet cough coming from the bed.

‘That’s right!’ Petra thought, a newfound energy taking hold of her as she returned her attention to the small patient residing in the bed. ‘She’s the reason I’m here.’

"Sorry, Miss Heidi!" Petra adopted her usual, chipper tone as she approached the child, already glancing at the chart that had been left on the wall at her side. While the form should have match the one she had been given, she wasn't one to cut corners, so she began to read over it to check for any additional information that could have been missed. "Your father and I are rudely neglecting you. Are you in any pain at the moment?"

While most children instantly brightened at the ginger's easygoing bedside manner - Heidi, much like her father, was not acting like a typical patient. Instead of answering, the small, dark-haired girl remained silent, glancing over at the woman with the same hooded gray eyes as her father.

Petra found the whole thing incredibly unnerving. To keep herself busy, she began to check the young girl's vitals. As she glanced over the numbers, she snuck a peek at her charge who still lay silent in the hospital bed.

Despite her lack of response to Petra's earlier question, the woman could see from the lines of distress on the girl's forehead that something was bothering her. She knew from the child's file that she had been slashed with a knife across the stomach and had been on the receiving end of an incredibly deadly poison. There probably wasn't much on her body that didn't hurt at this point.

Although she knew that the young girl must be in pain, the silence continued to grow as the two females in the room kept their gazes locked on the other.

Finally, Heidi turned to her father, who had been watching the scene unfold from his designated spot by the window. The girl's eyes shone with nothing short of fear as she appeared to silently communicate with her father. While the look on the poor child's features caused Petra's heart to clench, the man by the window merely bristled at his daughter's behavior.

"Stop trying to be tough, brat." His voice was rough, the edge in his tone similar to what it had been a minute ago. However, Petra was relieved to note a slight gentleness to his words that hadn't been present in their earlier conversation. "There's no reason to hide your pain if you're feeling any."

While the young nurse imagined any normal child would flinch at such words being thrown at them after having experienced such trauma - Heidi just blinked at her father's comment, almost as if pondering the meaning behind it.

Petra was about to jump in, having seen quite enough of the man's crass attitude towards his daughter, when the little girl finally spoke. Feebly, but with conviction.

“My stomach burns.”

Unlike her father's voice, Heidi had a sweet, slightly high-pitched voice, that would have had Petra cooing, had it not been for the current predicament the child was in.

“That’s to be expected.” The ginger responded understandingly, wanting the girl to know that she was someone she could trust over the next twelve hours. “What if I told you that I have some medicine that could make it feel better? Would you like that, Miss Heidi?”

Heidi hesitated for a moment, pulling the crisp white blanket up to her chin, almost acting like she was ashamed for having to take medicine. However, only a few beats passed before she nodded in response to the young woman's question.

"Perfect!" Petra's smile grew, the genuine kindness that typically radiated from her, shining from the depths of her chestnut eyes. "You're going to need a drink to help you wash down your pills - and I know they may taste a little nasty - so, how about I get you a juice to make it just a little bit better?"

As though a switch had been flipped, Heidi’s pale hands dropped the sheet covering the lower half of her face, revealing a tiny, rosebud mouth opened in shock. The dull gray of her eyes that had been so flat just a few moments ago, sparkled at the prospect of such a treat.

It made Petra’s heart clench once again.

The nurse was about to ask what flavor the girl wanted when her attention was drawn back to the man standing on the other side of the room. He had made a disapproving noise with his tongue as his daughter's face lit up at the thought of the sweet drink.

"Now you've done it." The man chuckled, though there was no real humor behind it. "This girl's favorite thing in the world is sweets. Now she's going to say she's in pain, just so she can get some juice."

“Sir,” Petra responded firmly, her once shining brown eyes hardening at such a careless statement. “I’m sorry, but after what she’s been through today, I think the least we could do is allow her to have some juice.”

The man shrugged his shoulders, raising his brows as though to tell her ‘do what you want’.

Which she would - gladly, in fact.

Turning back towards Heidi, who was now watching her father with a concerned expression, Petra attempted to redirect the girl’s attention.

"What flavor do you want?" That got Heidi's head swiveling back towards her. "I have cherry, grape, apple, orange, or watermelon."

“Uhhhh - “ Heidi pondered over her choices, looking up at the ceiling as though the answer would be there. After a few moments of thinking it over, the girl finally glanced back at the nurse waiting anxiously by her bedside. “I guess...cherry?”

“Excellent choice!” Petra agreed, readying herself to leave the room, but stopping dead in her tracks when hearing Heidi’s little voice again.

“Is that okay, Daddy?”

Petra watched as the little girl turned to her father, gauging his reaction for some kind of approval. The nurse waited with bated breath as the man simply stared back at the child, giving no indication of his approval either way.

Just when he was opening his mouth to give Heidi an answer - Petra jumped in, tired of witnessing the power dynamic in front of her.

“Your Daddy’s not the one drinking the juice, Heidi - so, I’m sure your choice is of no real consequence to him. Isn’t that right, Mr. Ackerman?”

There was a challenge in her tone, the words laced with borderline rudeness as she stared down the man across the room from her. Never in her life had she been so sharp with a patient nor a patient's family - however, she guessed there was no day like today. If she was going to get fired due to bad conduct, at least let it be because she stood up for a child who seemed to be in want of an advocate.

What reaction she was expecting to get from the man, she did not know - but it certainly wasn't a smirk.

He was smirking at her.

The silence stretched on for a few more seconds, the man's thin lips holding that frustrating smirk in place. He watched her as though waiting for what she was going to do next, but instead of shrinking under his gaze, she simply crossed her arms over her chest, ready to stand her ground.

Once the older Ackerman noticed Heidi’s head swiveling from side to side, watching their reactions, he released another tired, breathy chuckle.

“That’s right, Miss Ral.”

Petra hated to admit it - but, even after exiting the room, her legs continued to shake as she made her way down the hall. The trembles soon transferred into her hands as she poured the little girl a glass of cherry juice.

Upon re-entering the room, the first thing Petra noticed was that Mr. Ackerman had moved from what she thought was going to be his permanent spot in the room. He now stood by his daughter where she lay in her hospital bed, speaking quietly to her about something that the nurse couldn’t hear.

The second he saw her walk through the door, he quickly quieted - his lips returning to the thin line of indifference that she had become acquainted with, not too long ago. Choosing to ignore the strange atmosphere that settled over the room at such a blatant display of secrecy, Petra smiled brightly towards the child lying in the bed.

She was her priority.

“Alright, Miss Heidi!” Petra chirped happily, trying her best to return to the usual persona that she emulated while within the walls of the hospital. “Time for your medicine! If you could just sit up for me - “

The girl began to shift higher up in the bed, struggling to prop herself up against the pillows that lay behind her. Petra rushed to find somewhere to set the glass of juice down so that she could help her patient - however, she was beaten to it.

The girl's father placed his hands underneath her armpits, slowly pulling her back towards the head of the bed. After she was situated a little bit higher, he released his grip on her before tugging at the pillows to arrange them in a fashion that was more comfortable for her. Though he moved with purpose, his actions held a tenderness that Petra was surprised to see. If this was an unusual occurrence for Heidi, she certainly didn't show it on her tired, yet grateful features.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

The man grunted in response, patting his hand on the pillow behind her head one more time before moving his hands back to his pockets.

Petra’s brow rose in response to the uncharacteristic helpfulness she had just witnessed, but she tried to school her features in a way that didn’t show her surprise.

“Well - “ The woman cleared her throat, before handing the glass of juice over to the girl, to give herself time to retrieve the pills she had placed in the pocket at the front of her dress. “Hopefully, your pain will lessen after you take these.”

Heidi gave a shy nod at the woman’s words, looking warily at the pills. Noticing the child’s hesitance, the older Ackerman reached for the cup of juice in her shaking hands. With the movement of his arm, Petra watched as the cuff of his jacket slid up and over the skin of his wrist.

She couldn’t hide her surprise at what she saw branded there.

It was a ‘Wings of Freedom’ tattoo.

This man was a part of the Survey Corps.

It wasn’t that Petra had never interacted with an SC member before, it was just that they normally didn’t frequent this side of the hospital. Most of them didn’t have children and, even if they did, most of them wouldn’t have the opportunity to care for them properly.

It was no secret that of all the cities in Marley, Paradis was the one that had the biggest gang violence problem. Paradis was deemed as the headquarters for the infamous Titans gang, a group of thugs who were well-versed in politics and typically well-educated. One could never know that someone was a Titan, since they blended in so well to society.

There were rumors floating around that several larger corporations had Titans at the helm, working their way through the ranks in an attempt to have a better chance at being elected into political office. Their end goal was unclear - however, their violent acts and shady business dealings had escalated over the recent years.

Suddenly, businessmen who were in perfectly good health one day were turning up dead in a river the next. The same went for major political figures. Several big-name military men had been cut down in the streets and in their homes, to the point where the implications couldn't be ignored.

This was an all-out war.

Though Petra had been busy in nursing school at the time, she still vividly remembered Commander Erwin Smith’s case - since it had eventually led to the creation of the Survey Corps.

Erwin Smith had walked into his home one day after a long day of work, only to be attacked by a group of four masked Titans brandishing knives. While the Commander had lost an arm as a result of the poison on the blades that had come in contact with his arm, he was able to fight off all four assailants and come through the accident with a clear vision of what needed to be done.

This incident prompted the formation of the Survey Corps.

The Survey Corps was a group of former criminals who would have otherwise faced jail time or execution if they chose not to serve their government. The Commander's idea was that when it came to the Titans - one had to fight fire with fire. For him, the Survey Corps was his fire.

The men would be given a meager compensation in exchange for their loyalty, as well as a full pardon for the crimes they had committed in the past. All they had to do was promise their hearts to the cause.

Petra had always thought the venture sounded like a risky one. How could someone trust a criminal? If someone was willing to commit a crime once, wouldn’t they be willing to do it again? From what she had seen of the SC members who had been wheeled into the Emergency Room over the past few years, they looked more like thugs than the actual Titans themselves.

However, it appeared that that was the whole point.

The Survey Corps were used to obtain information about the Titans from the inside. To learn about the Titans, it seemed you had to act like one. Once inside, their goal was to negotiate deals with the underlings, who would then pass on the information to the SC in exchange for compensation. No surprise, though - these exchanges could turn deadly pretty quickly.

The young nurse couldn’t imagine how anyone could trust a criminal to infiltrate the enemy without the fear of them turning themselves - but from what she had heard, Commander Erwin Smith was a very good leader who kept a tight hold on all the men who worked under him.

Petra guessed as much since a good majority of them had small government-issued tracking devices located somewhere on their person - somewhere that they were unaware of, of course.

The woman had only ever seen an actual 'Wings of Freedom' tattoo once, and it was on the wrist of a body that was being rolled to the morgue past her in the hallway one day. The symbol was a sign of rank. Much like how the military operated, the Survey Corps themselves had a set of ranks that signaled a separation of powers within the group.

Only captains and the Commander himself were given the ‘honor’ of bearing the SC tattoo. The placement was purposeful, too - right on the wrist, where an opponent’s eyes would be drawn as they wielded their signature blades.

Suddenly, the behavior of the man made a lot more sense. He was a former thug - now, turned Captain of the Survey Corps.

The nature of Heidi’s injury also made a lot more sense now. She wasn’t victim to a few Titan pick-pockets on the street of Paradis. She was a victim to her father’s line of work.

She had been caught up in the crossfire.

"Miss Ral?" At the sound of the man's deep, gravelly voice, Petra looked up only to be met by a steely gray gaze. He had noticed where her eyes had fallen and had also deduced where her train of thought was drifting. "Are you ready to hand over the medicine?"

His tone was polite enough, not to alert Heidi to the mounting tension that seemed to build with every interaction the two adults had - but there was certainly an edge to it. He was pretty much daring her to ask questions.

Petra certainly was not taking the bait.

“Yes,” The woman responded, slowly. The smile that had fallen from her face at the sight of the man’s tattoo, returned as she warmly regarded her waiting patient. “Let’s get this over with!”

Neither father nor daughter caught the double meaning behind her words.

This shift could not go by fast enough.

-

After what she could only describe as ‘the longest 12-hour shift ever,’ Petra was ready to hit the sack and enjoy the next two days off.

It seemed like fate, though - had other plans.

"What?" The woman groaned as she pulled her time card out of the slot, her whine catching the attention of a few doctors passing by. Petra couldn't care less what they thought of her right now, she was exhausted - and the news Nanaba had given her was definitely less than welcome "There expediting Krista's maternity leave? Isn't she still like - I don't know - four months away from giving birth?!"

Nifa shook her head from her usual spot by the water tower, looking just about ready to fall over herself.

“Two months,” She reminded the frazzled ginger, chuckling at the groan her answer received. “It was bound to happen sooner or later with how faint she’s been - it just so happens that they made the call during a hospital-wide nursing shortage.”

Petra didn’t want to seem inconsiderate, but this news had really put a wrench in her plans - plans which had included nothing but cleaning and sleeping - but plans nonetheless! There were about a million other things she'd rather do than continue to cross paths with her patient's reticent father.

She had really thought that as the hours passed, his mood would perhaps lift and become a bit more pleasant - but no, things had only seemed to get worse.

While Heidi had slept most of the night, it was almost as if the dark-haired man was reluctant to close his eyes. No matter how many times Petra had walked in there over the past twelve hours, he never moved from his spot near the window. Even when Petra offered to help move the chair over closer to the wall so that he could see, he had glared at her as though she had outright insulted him.

Never had Petra felt so uncomfortable while tending to a patient and she had been doing this for years!

The worst instance of this was when she had gone to change Heidi's bandages over where her injury was. While she had tended to many injured patients before, she could feel a cold sweat breaking out along her hairline as she gently removed the bandages from the young girl's pale skin.

Every movement she made was subject to his intimidating glare - almost as though he was waiting to snap at her the second she made a wrong move. Though he was trying to hide it behind a wall of indifference, Petra could tell that he was on edge as she began to work on Heidi’s wound.

If one thing could be said, it was that Petra had never met a five-year-old quite like Heidi before. Though she remained silent for most of the night, the young woman could tell that she was highly intelligent and aware. Never before had she had a patient who was able to grit their teeth and fight their pain so well. Not even when her bandage got stuck on a small area of irritated skin did Heidi release a whimper.

Petra knew the whole process must have caused her a great deal of pain - however, like her father said, she was hellbent on acting tough.

It wasn’t until she got to the part of the cut that appeared to be the most severe that the child even happened to make a sound.

“Is that tender?” She had asked, but it was more of a formality. The lines of distress on the girl’s forehead told her all she needed to know. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

Heidi said nothing in response, but at her obvious signs of discomfort, her father shifted forward - hands still in his pockets, but his rigid posture showing that he wasn't nearly as indifferent as he tried to act.

Petra was suddenly aware of the man's eyes following the movements of her hands and - though she had done this in front of an audience many times - his attention made her more nervous than she had ever been before. Not only were his eyes watching her like a hawk's - but his body was also tilting forward , closer to her, to see exactly what she was doing.

Under such pressure, she panicked - something that was highly unlike her on a normal day.

With the man's eyes boring holes into her hands, her sweaty palms lost their grip on the bandage she had been trying to pull gently from the skin.  Heidi's reaction was instantaneous.

While she had made little more than a whimper up to that point, when the bandage slipped from Petra's hand and the skin of her palm made contact with the stitches that lay over the girl's abdomen - a short, little whelp escaped from her lips at the pain.

If that didn’t have the nurse feeling bad enough, Heidi’s dad’s reaction almost had her crying.

While most parents would be understanding of such a small mistake - many not even realizing she had made one - because he had been watching her so closely, he had borne witness to her error. The shock on his face, expressed only by the raise of his brows and the slight opening of his mouth, soon morphed into something much more threatening - anger.

"Don't you know how to do your job?" The man seethed, glaring at her with the same eyes that had been watching her so closely moments before. While his voice was not loud, the quiet tone almost made it that much scarier. "Can't you see that your mistake has caused her pain?"

Petra didn’t know what else to do besides look at him like a gaping fish.

"Well - are you competent enough to continue your work, or should I request another nurse?"

“No sir,” The woman answered, quietly - in a sort of daze from the man’s unusual reaction. Though she thought he was going to argue some more with her - he instead leaned back against the wall next to Heidi’s bed and continued to watch her in silence, as though he hadn’t questioned her skill at all.

Petra rolled her shoulders back, steeling herself to do the same thing she had done a million times. She would not let this man get to her twice.

After apologizing to the small girl, who merely gave a meek nod in response, Petra finished removing the old bandage from her cut. Once the wound had been cleaned and rebandaged - the nurse hurriedly made herself scarce, barely giving the girl's father a second glance.

When she had left the room, her face had been flushed and she had felt as though she was going to cry - but after hearing the taunts from her friends at the desk, thinking she had had some kind of flirtation with her patient's father, she instead turned to the next room and prepared herself to tend to her other patients.

“Earth to Petra?” Nifa’s voice brought her back to the present, something she was grateful for. Though it had been a long shift, at least it was finally over. “So, are you going to cover Krista for the rest of the week?”

Petra groaned once again. She had forgotten why she had spaced out for so long in the first place - they wanted her to take on the night shift for an additional two days.

"Hey!" Nifa chirped, crossing the small distance that separated her from Petra, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "The good thing is you'll get almost a full week off if you finish all your hours now!"

"Yeah - " Petra agreed reluctantly, though her voice held little excitement. "But what good are hours off if I'm too exhausted to enjoy them?"

"All you do is clean, you neat freak! Don't act like it's going to spoil a hot date or something!"

Nanaba chuckled at Nifa's words, also reaching to pick up her card and clock out. "You know, she's not wrong."

Petra blushed at their goading. “How would you know?”

Both girls looked at her dubiously,  their reaction causing Petra to blush an even deeper shade of red. Nifa shook her head, clucking her tongue in disappointment.

“I rest my case.”

“Oh, shove it!” Petra grabbed her bag from the floor, ready to leave the past 12-hour shift behind. “I’ll cover Krista’s damn shifts if it means I’ll get some time away from you weirdos next week.”

Nanaba rolled her eyes at Petra's dramatics, while Nifa simply laughed in response, also retrieving her bag from under the counter. Though both busied themselves by getting their stuff together to take home, neither missed the shameless smirk Petra sent over her shoulder.

“I guess this is the price one has to pay when they’ve been named the most satisfactory nurse on the ward.”

Now, this comment had both Nifa and Nanaba groaning, the girls rushing to catch up with Petra as she made her way to the stairwell.

-

The second day Petra was assigned to the Ackerman’s was just as strange as the first.

After getting a good 8-hour rest, the nurse entered the hospital with a renewed bounce in her step. The reason? She had pressed her uniform to perfection and had even pushed back her shoulder-length hair with a headband with not a hair out of place.

‘Let’s see what that man can find wrong with me now,’ Petra thought to herself as she clocked in for the day, only to be shocked by what she saw going on at Room 325 - Heidi Ackerman's room.

She could recognize the dark blue suits of the Military Police from a mile away.

Two men, one with long blonde hair and the other with a dark, crew cut, stood outside the girl's room, talking with Heidi's father. The men were speaking quietly to each other, the blonde one jotting down some notes onto a form he held in his hand.

It looked like a statement.

Not wanting to intrude, Petra double-checked Heidi's folder to make sure that she wasn't due for another dose of medication for another half an hour still. The day nurse had left several notes for the night nurse, describing the girl's progress. While she was still in a considerable amount of pain, her vitals had remained stable throughout the day. Now, the only thing they needed to worry about was the possibility of infection setting in at the sight of her would.

Petra made a mental note to remain extremely vigilant when it came to caring for the girl’s wound. The faster she healed, the faster she would be out of the ward.

'...and the faster her father could get the hell off of my floor.'  Petra thought to herself, jotting down a few quick notes of her own, before closing the file and picking up the next.

By the time Petra arrived at Heidi's room, the MP's were long gone and the girl was sleeping peacefully in bed.

Upon entering the room with a glass of cherry juice already in hand, Petra braced herself for a rude comment or a deadly stare - but was surprised when she found that she was not on the receiving end of one.

Mr. Ackerman was still dressed in the same clothes he had worn the day before, his hair styled still to perfection, yet a bit greasier from the lack of a good washing. While his gaze was cold as ever as it moved from his daughter's slumbering form to the nurse as she entered the room, it wasn't nearly as intimidating as it had been before.

The man just looked tired.

Still, he stood by the lone window in the room, leaning against the ledge as if it was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Petra spared a glance towards the only chair in the room by Heidi's bedside and noticed that the pillow and blanket that she had left for him last night were still neatly folded and waiting to be used.

He had never slept. He had never even sat.

Petra's mouth popped open in surprise as she stood in the doorway, glass in hand. She wanted to say something but found that every time she tried to get the words out, they got stuck in her throat.

"Don't wake her up." It was the first words she had heard out of his mouth since entering, his tone as deep as it had been the day before, but weaker from lack of rest. He almost didn't look so much annoyed, as he did exasperated. "She's had a long few hours and was just now able to fall asleep."

At his request, Petra felt conflicted.

"It's time for her medicine." The woman insisted, talking quietly as she approached the girl's bedside, placing the glass of cherry red liquid onto the side table. "I'm worried that if she doesn't take it soon, she may wake up in pain."

The man considered her words, staring at her for a few moments before letting his gaze drop to the sleeping five-year-old in the hospital bed. The fact that he was even chewing over her statement had Petra reeling. While the day before, he had been questioning her methods - now he was actually taking her seriously.

The man sighed, pushing himself off from the wall he was leaning against.

“Could you wait twenty minutes?”

The words were spoken quietly, yet for the first time, they held no underlying rudeness. He seemed genuine in his request, his gray eyes boring into her's as he waited for an answer.

Petra was beginning to feel as though she was experiencing whiplash on the receiving end of his mood swings.

It was only in that moment, when he was making such direct eye contact with her, that she began to notice the slight shake of his stature, almost as though a short burst of chills were beginning to overcome his body. The sight was so strange, that Petra felt herself nodding at the man's request before she had even had a chance to think it over.

"Uh - " The young woman stuttered, trying desperately to find her voice. "I guess that would be alright?"

The man gave her a short nod of appreciation, his lips pressed in a thin line as he seemed to consider whether to say something else. Instead of asking any more questions though, he breezed past the young nurse and began to make his way to the door - something that caught Petra's attention, considering he had not left his daughter's room the entire time during her shift before.

"Wait!" She called out in surprise, though the volume of her voice surprised her. The man gave her a sharp look as he glanced over at the still slumbering child. After watching the rise and fall of her chest for a few long moments - he switched his gaze back to her, annoyance evident in the twist of his features.

And just like that, the same man from the day before was back.

"What?" He asked, as though it wasn't unusual for him to leave his daughter's room. In most cases, it wouldn't be strange for her patient's parents to leave their child unattended while they went to find some food or refreshments in the hospital, but this man had never done that before.

‘Maybe that’s why he wants her to stay asleep…’ Petra thought to herself, as she tried to think of what else she could say without sounding too nosy.

“Where are you going?”

Nice one, Ral.

The man scoffed, as though he believed her question didn't deserve an answer. Without responding, he turned back to the door and placed his shaking hand on the knob.

But Petra was surprised when, before leaving the room, he quietly called back over his shoulder.

“Would you mind keeping an eye on her for me, real quick? There’s something I need to do.”

Not waiting for her answer, the man was out the door before Petra's brain could even catch up to what he had been asking. However, when she realized what he had done, she found herself seething.

What did she look like - a babysitter?! She had other patients to be taking care of!

Though she knew that she had no real obligation to stay in Heidi’s room, there was something that had her sitting in the chair beside the bed, scooting the pillow and blankets out of the way to make herself more comfortable. She didn’t know what it was that kept her rooted in that spot, but she truly felt like she couldn’t leave the little girl.

A vision of the MP's quickly flashed through her mind.

It was that feeling of guilt that had her planted in the chair for the next twenty minutes - even though she had other patients to check on.

‘Oh well,’ Petra picked a piece of lint off the top sheet of the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Heidi’s small chest. ‘What are they gonna do? Fire me?’

Just as Petra was fantasizing about all the things she could do if her boss truly did fire her - Mr. Ackerman returned to the room.

The first thing the young ginger noticed about the man was that he held a large white bag in his hand - one that seemed to be from the hospital's gift shop. The second thing she noticed was that he held a mug of what looked like some kind of tea in his other hand.

The third thing she noticed was that he reeked of smoke. With this knowledge, Petra could feel her face heat up in annoyance.

Now the shaking of his body and hands made sense - he had been going through withdrawals.

“You left me in here to tend to your daughter while you went and had a smoke?” The nurse stood from her spot in the chair, quietly chastising the man as he walked through the door. “Don’t you know those things can kill you?”

After having gotten his fix of nicotine, the man was back to his usual pleasant self. Before Petra could even think of what else to say, his eyes flashed towards her in contempt.

"Don't you know how to mind your own business?"

At such a rude response, Petra threw caution to the wind, sick of the man's attitude. Not caring whether Heidi woke up at this point or not, she stormed over to the dark-haired man, pointing a single finger into his chest. At least the man had the nerve to look surprised.

“Listen here - “ Petra dug her finger further into his hard chest, the fabric of his white shirt wrinkling as she tapped him once more for good measure. “Your daughter is currently my patient, Mr. Ackerman. So yes, your health is a part of my business now. What I’d like to know is how you think you're going to take care of your child on nothing but cigarettes and tea? Did you even eat while you were gone?”

The man raised a brow at her tirade, still shocked at the fact that the small redhead had had the nerve to speak to him like that. He definitely wasn’t used to it.

"Well, did you?" She asked again, demanding an answer, sticking him in the chest with a finely manicured finger once more.

What the man did next, nearly floored the poor girl for what felt like the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours. He smirked.

That damn infuriating smirk again!

Before she could repeat her question, the Survey Corps member grabbed the finger that was currently poking his chest, pushing her hand down while the infuriating smirk on his face only grew bigger.

"No," He said simply, as though he had not a care in the world. Petra could tell by the challenge in his eyes that he was eagerly waiting to see how she would respond.

Almost as though it was a game to him. Well, Petra was perfectly ready to play.

Pulling her hand out of his hold, the woman crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at him as he continued to smirk down at her. While he had shaken her the day before, she had become familiar enough with him to know that he only seemed to respond positively to her when she was actively challenging him.

What was he - a masochist?

“Lucky for you I have a wide array of crackers to offer you.” Petra smiled sweetly, watching as the man’s brows rose at the sound of her tone. “What would your flavor of choice be - cheese or peanut butter?”

“Neither, I - ,”

“Oh!” She cut him off, tapping him once again on the chest, knowing that this seemed to annoy him greatly just a few moments ago. “I’m sorry but ‘neither’ doesn’t seem to be a flavor - try again!”

The man's brows rose even higher at her continued teasing. "What if I'm allergic to peanut butter and cheese?"

Petra was anticipating such an answer, her arms once again crossing over her chest as she puffed it out with pride, knowing that this was an argument she had already won. "Then I guess I get to pick your poison."

They stared at each other in silence, neither intending to back down. Finally, the older Ackerman broke.

The man chuckled. Not a pity chuckle, either - but a real, amused chuckle. Though it may have been quiet, Petra couldn't conceal the pride that swelled up in her chest at having broken through at least one of the man's self-made barriers.

They didn't call her the best nurse for nothing!

"Alright, alright…" He finally conceded, no longer chuckling - but still keeping that mysterious smirk on his face. "I'll eat something, but no crackers."

Petra’s brow rose at this. “Why not? Isn’t that the most universal snack there is?”

“They’re too messy.”

The woman had to stop herself from giggling at the look of annoyance that passed over the man’s face. It seemed they at least had one thing in common - Petra absolutely hated a mess.

“An apple?”

The man shrugged noncommittally. Petra took this as confirmation that the fruit would do.

“Daddy?”

The feeble call from the bed had both of the adults turning, their eyes falling on the once slumbering girl who still lay propped up against the pillows. Though she had only said one word, Petra could tell from the look on her face that she had been woken from her sleep by some kind of pain.

The girl’s father hummed in response, acknowledging that he had heard her. Not wasting a moment and with a new pep in his step from his smoke break, the Survey Corps member approached his daughter’s bedside, placing his tea down by the glass of juice that still lay on the bedside table.

It was when the girl glanced over at the juice and then at the door, that she noticed the short nurse who was also now standing in her room. Petra liked to imagine that the girl’s face had lit up a bit at the sight of her, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think that it was anything other than the prospect of juice that had her glowing.

Heidi, much like her father though, surprised her.

"Hi, Miss Petra," The girl said in that sweet tone of her, her words still shy, but definitely more confident than from the night before. "Is it time for my medicine?"

Petra smiled in encouragement, joining the girl’s father at the side of her bed. “Yes, it is. Are you in any pain?”

Once again, the child looked up at her father - but, instead of waiting for some kind of input from him, she turned back to the nurse and answered for herself.

“Just a little.”

While her answer was not nearly as descriptive as Petra would have liked, the woman knew that this was probably the best she was going to get out of the child. With a tough-as-nails father by her side, the little girl was never going to give a true indication of how she was truly feeling. To do so would be to admit defeat in her eyes.

It was sad to an extent, but having grown up with a single dad herself - something she was assuming based on the fact that Petra had yet to see a mother stop by for a visit to Heidi's room - she knew how important it was to show them that their little girls were strong enough to handle themselves.

Petra’s respect for the precocious five-year-old just continued to grow as she spent more time with her.

After the nurse had given the girl her pills and had made sure that they went down easily, she reviewed Heidi’s vitals one more time before promising to return in the next hour.

Before she could make it out the door though, she turned to face the girl’s father one last time.

“I’ll be bringing you an apple, Mr. Ackerman,” She called back to him, watching as his gaze drifted upwards to meet her’s. “- and I’ll be expecting you to eat it.”

“Levi.”

The response was so quick and unexpected that it had Petra quieting immediately. Seeing the look of confusion written across her face, one side of the man's mouth quirked up in a half-smile. He sighed, shaking his head before closing his eyes in exasperation.

When he opened them again, there was a softer look there than there had been before.

“My name’s Levi. Stop it with that Mr. Ackerman stuff.”

Even Heidi chuckled from her place in the bed at the sound of such a formal name for her father. Once Petra had collected her wits, she gave a short nod in response.

"Levi, then."

Without wasting another second, the woman turned from the room - shutting the door close with more force than what she had intended to.

Her face was burning as she walked away from the room - and for the first time since she had been assigned to the patient in Room 325 - it wasn't from shame.

-

It was nearly an hour and a half later that she was finally able to return to Heidi’s room to check on the girl. With an apple in hand, the woman pushed open the door quietly, just in case the little girl had happened to fall back asleep.

The scene that lay before her, had her pausing in the open doorway in wonder.

Levi Ackerman was sitting. Not only was he sitting, but he was reading - and from a children’s book, nonetheless!

The white bag from earlier lay at his feet, the contents of it having been removed. While it had been puffed up quite large only an hour before, it now sat deflated on the cold tile of the hospital floor. Petra couldn't imagine that a few children's books from the gift shop would make a bag look that full, and she was right to assume that.

The reason the bag had looked so full was currently resting in the happy little hands of one Miss Heidi Ackerman in the form of a very large, stuffed teddy bear.

"Then Mr. Owl asked Mr. Bear if he could borrow a few - ," Petra listened to the smooth voice of the man who had nearly made her cry the day before, no rudeness left in his tone as he read to a very captive audience.

"Daddy, why would he ask to borrow something that he could never give back?' Heidi asked from her hospital bed, fully engaged in the story. Whether it was consciously or not, she hugged her bear a little tighter to herself as she turned onto her side to regard her father.

The man gave her a small, patient smile. "It's an expression, Heidi. Mr. Owl is going to eat the carrots, of course - so I'm sure hoping he's not planning on regurgitating them and giving them back to Mr. Bear. Mr. Bear is letting Mr. Owl have something without the guarantee of ever receiving it back or something in return."

“Then it’s not borrowing.”

Her father shrugged, his eyes turning back to the page in front of him. "Not really, I guess."

Before the man could pick up where he'd left off - Heidi cut him off once more.

“Daddy, I don’t think owls actually eat carrots.”

“Are you going to let me finish the story, brat?” The man gazed at her over the top of the book, annoyance creeping into his tone after having been interrupted for the second time. “Or do I need to read from the dictionary in order to please you?”

While Petra had been shocked when he had referred to his daughter as "brat" the night before, she would have to be deaf to not hear the endearment that lay hidden in his tone. He said it so gently - as though it was meant as an affectionate tease more than an insult.

Heidi certainly wasn’t offended by it if her sweet little laugh was any indication of how she was feeling.

“Daddy!” She whined, hugging her bear even tighter. “No dictionary! I want animal stories!”

“Then sit back and enjoy the damn book, instead of overanalyzing everything.”

Heidi’s eyes widened in shock, her small mouth forming an ‘o’ at her father’s choice of words. “Daddy, you swore.”

The man twisted his lips, trying his best to hide his face behind the children's book that he held in his hands.

“I heard you! You’re going to have to put change in the swear jar at home!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Heidi smiled brightly at her father. "Nuh-uh, it's a deal! I'm going to be rich!"

“Heidi,” Levi raised one dark brow towards the girl, his tone darkening with warning as she continued to get louder. “You need to be quiet.”

At her father’s admonishment, the child’s face fell, her bright smile falling swiftly off her features. Petra made a movement to jump in - anything to bring that sweet expression back to the darling girl’s face - but was stopped by the man’s voice chiming in once again.

“ - and besides, you only have two dollars. That’s barely enough to call yourself rich.”

While most children would have balked at Levi's use of blunt humor, Heidi - who must have been used to it by now -  began to giggle once more, the bright smile from just moments before, returning to her face. Petra was even surprised to find that the man was wearing one of his own now.

"It's almost enough to buy a chocolate bar." Heidi insisted as if the candy was the most precious thing in the world.

Petra had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from laughing out loud. From her spot in the doorway, the nurse's shoulders trembled in quiet amusement. This little girl was something else - and, from what she had seen over the past few minutes, so was her father.

"Now you see, Miss Ral?" The question had her pausing mid-shake, her amusement slowly fading now that she had been caught. "I told you sweets would be her downfall."

Petra could feel her cheeks heating up. She had just been caught eavesdropping - how unprofessional could she be?

Opening the door all the way, the woman stepped fully into the room, apple still in hand. While Heidi certainly seemed to quiet as the woman entered the room, the smile on her face did not fade.

While she had thought the older Ackerman would look at her in contempt for having the gall to eavesdrop on him, during what she would call a very intimate family moment, he instead looked over at her with a slight quirk in his brow.

“ - and eavesdropping will be yours.”

Without saying another word, the man placed the children’s book on top of the bedside table, where Petra could now see an entire stack had been laid. Next to it, a small cat plush sat, almost as though watching over the mountain of books that now stood beside it. Before the nurse could make any comments in regards to his gift shop purchases, the man stuck out his hand.

Petra just stared at him in confusion.

Levi gave her a less than impressed look. “My apple, Miss Ral?”

If Petra had thought her face had been burning before, it was nothing compared to now.

-

A few hours passed uneventfully in the pediatric ward. That was one thing Petra had always enjoyed about the night shift - there was a certain calm in the air that seemed to hang over the 3rd floor of the hospital. A child would cry out in pain, only to be shushed a few moments later by comfort or medicine - or a buzzer would go off, signaling that someone needed assistance.

Other than that, the ward pretty much always stayed quiet in the late night to early morning hours of the day and Room 325 was no exception to this.

Heidi was snoozing peacefully as Petra made her rounds once again to check on the girl. After having received her last dose of medication until morning, the girl had lost her battle against sleep. She had fought valiantly - wanting to stay up and continue listening to the stories being told by her father - but after several hours and retellings of the same stories over and over, she was finally out for the night.

While Petra hated to disturb the girl's sleep, it was pertinent that she clean her wound every few hours to keep the infection from setting in. Though the girl was already taking oral antibiotics, the nurse knew that it was better to be safe than sorry when it came to wounds.

In an attempt to be as stealthy as possible, Petra quietly entered the dimly lit room of Heidi Ackerman, careful not to make any noise as she closed the door behind her.

Giving her eyes time to adjust to the lack of lighting in the room, Petra squinted while looking over at the chair.

There sat Levi, bloody clothes and all, by his daughter's bed and still wide awake despite his obvious exhaustion. Petra had given up hours ago on telling him to get some sleep, learning quickly that even without an injured child the man was a terrible insomniac.

However, she couldn't help but be concerned when it came to the man's state of mind. How on earth was he supposed to tend to his child when he wasn't willing to rest himself?

"Oi, stop lurking in the doorway." A ragged voice called from the chair, his eyes never drifting from Heidi's face. Even without looking, he seemed to just know she was there. it must have been a Survey Corps thing. “She’s out for the night, so there’s no need to sneak around as if the smallest noise is going to wake her up.”

Petra blushed at the call-out, stepping fully into the dim light of the room, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to change her bandages."

The man grunted in acknowledgment, shrugging his shoulders. "It can't be helped. Several more hours of reading from 'Mr. Owl's Adventures' sounds like a decent penance to me."

Though Petra found herself chuckling at the man's dry wit, she couldn't help but notice the strain in his voice that spoke of some underlying guilt she was not privy to. Trying to lighten the mood, she moved closer to Heidi's bedside, bandages already in hand and a soft smile on her features.

"Count yourself lucky," The woman bristled, reaching into her pocket for a disinfectant wipe. "You could be changing dirty bandages and bedpans for the rest of the night. I think I would choose Mr. Owl over that, any day."

While she hadn't expected the man to laugh at her remark, she wasn't expecting him to sober so quickly either.

He watched as she placed the packet of disinfectant wipes down on the table, her hands moving to the bandages to ready them for placement. The night before, she had found his gaze unnerving - now, however, he seemed to be pondering her actions more than looking for something that she was doing wrong.

“Could you show me how to change her bandages?”

Petra couldn't hide the shock that flooded her features at the quiet request. The words were spoken so softly that she questioned whether she had even heard them.

“Huh?” She heard herself ask, pausing mid-action.

Levi's face held its usual passive expression - but, when Petra looked closely, she could see the skin of his neck turning red underneath the hairs of his undercut.

The man was blushing.

Petra had little time to be amazed before he was speaking again.

"I tried watching you last night and when the nurse did it this morning," The man confessed, his voice tight as though he felt ashamed for admitting it. "But I want to make sure I know how to do it right since I'm the one who's going to be doing it at home."

Suddenly, his attentiveness to her actions during her prior shift made a lot more sense.

While she had thought he had been watching her closely to see if she made any mistakes while changing Heidi's bandages, he was really just trying to learn how to do it himself. So the reason he must have been so grouchy when she had made that one mistake, was because he was frustrated not only with her but with himself for having to seek out someone's help.

Man, she had misjudged him terribly in that moment.

Knowing that it was hard for the man to admit he needed guidance - Petra gave him a small but encouraging smile.

"I can show you," The woman gestured for him to come closer to the bed so that he could see better. "This is the perfect time, actually since I'm going to be doing it really slow, so that we don't wake her."

Petra tried to calm the furious beating of her heart as the man rose from his chair and made his way over to her side. This was the closest she had ever been to him, even closer than when she had gotten up in his face earlier. From this vantage point, she could see the dark stubble that now lined his cheeks and the puffy bags that seemed to permanently reside under his eyes.

The man was starting to look a bit ragged. However, no amount of exhaustion could dull the look of determination in his eyes.

Petra took her time, carefully peeling back the bandages that sat across Heidi's abdomen. Levi watched closely as she worked her finger under the sticky material at a particularly irritated patch of skin. While Heidi mumbled a few incoherent words in her sleep and turned her head to the side in agitation, she remained unconscious as Petra continued to work on her wound.

The nurse quietly explained proper wound care, as she cleaned around the stitches that lay on the girl's stomach. Levi nodded in acknowledgment to each of her points, his steely gaze never leaving her hands.

The whole process took about ten minutes, much longer than usual, but Petra felt like it had taken a hundred years.

The man was just so close and it was distracting.

Despite being flustered by his proximity and rapt attention, Petra was able to successfully clean and re-bandage the wound.

She ripped the end of the last piece of tape needed for the girl's skin, gently patting it down with soft pressing motions. "So, that's all there is to it."

Levi nodded, the wheels in his head turning as he tried to internalize everything he had just seen.

It struck Petra as odd that he needed such guidance from her when his line of work surely included some bumps and nicks over time. Almost as if he could guess her train of thought, the man answered her unspoken question.

"I've had to treat my own wounds before," He admitted quietly, eyes glued to the area of Heidi's stomach where her injury lay. " - but I've never had to treat a child's. I just want to make sure I do it right."

Petra gave him a sympathetic smile, placing the roll of tape back on the table. "It really isn't that much different from dressing your own wounds."

Levi's eyes darkened at her words, his tone shifting. "It is different."

The young woman watched as the man's eyes drifted back up to Heidi's peaceful face, her small pink lips opened in an 'o' as little breaths escaped between them. From a hardened gaze, the Survey Corps member's eyes softened at the sight of his slumbering daughter.

“What happened?”

Petra didn't know what had come over her, but at the man's words and expression, she couldn't help but speak out of curiosity. While the girl's file had said she had been cut by a blade that had been laced with poison, it hadn't said any more than that. She figured that Heidi had been caught up in a crossfire, but she couldn't be too sure.

She wanted to know what had caused her patient so much pain - and she also wanted to know what it was that was causing the girl's father so much guilt.

Petra had not expected much in ways of a response, figuring that the man would tell her to mind her own business. She was surprised when, instead of snapping at her in anger, Levi sighed and crossed his arms over his chest in defeat. She could see his reluctance to share in the rigid way he stood, but could also see in the way he rolled his lips inwards, that there was a part of him that wanted to tell someone what happened.

"They broke into my home when it wasn't there." The man admitted quietly, a quick rush of breath leaving him as he resigned himself to share with Petra the details behind the incident. "Heidi knows not to open the door to strangers, so when they came knocking, she hid - but they knew she was there. They had been watching."

"The Titans?" Petra asked in a whisper. Levi nodded.

"I've always known that I was a big target for them - almost as big as Erwin himself - but I never thought they would go after my own daughter." Levi released a dark chuckle at this, closing his eyes in disbelief. 'I can't believe my stupidity. The Titans have cut down families before, I don't know what made me think that mine would be any different."

The man sighed, his eyes cutting back to his daughter’s face. “One of my men had heard through our line of communication that The Titans were planning on laying siege to my house - however, it had been kept under wraps for as long as possible to keep the plan from getting back to me.”

Levi's face darkened, his thin lips pressing together as his eyes took on a faraway look - like he was being transported back in time.

"Unlucky for them," The man continued, his tone growing terser as time went on. "I found out and was able to intercept the attack."

Petra watched as the man’s focus drew back to the present, his steely gaze never leaving his daughter. “But not before Heidi could get hurt.”

Levi ran a single hand through his hair, the action causing the arm of his jacket to rise and the ‘Wings of Freedom’ tattoo to be exposed.

"There were six of them at the house," Levi admitted, not even pausing when this information called forth a gasp from Petra. "I cut down every single one of them."

At the dark look on his face, the nurse could feel herself gulp in fear. The same intimidating man whom she had encountered the night before during her first shift was suddenly making an appearance once again. His behavior - however, made more sense now. He had been reticent and ready to snap, not just because his daughter had been injured, but because he had just murdered six men.

Petra also realized that the blood that lay splattered across the man’s white shirt was, more than likely, not just Heidi's. While the news had Petra suppressing a shiver, she didn't interrupt him as he continued with his story.

"When I realized the blade had been laced with poison, I rushed Heidi here." He glanced over at her now, his gaze watching her carefully as he analyzed her reaction. "Then a few hours later, we met you."

Petra didn't know what to say - half of her had expected the story to be something like that, but also half of her wishing it hadn't. She was outright conflicted.

"She had been alone?" She heard herself ask through the whooshing in her ears. Her head was spinning from all the new information.

Levi nodded. "I can't afford to send her anywhere. She's always alone."

Though Petra tried to hide her surprise, she couldn't conceal it quick enough for his all-seeing eyes.

"She has no mother." Levi admitted though Petra had deduced as much. "The woman dropped her off on my doorstep years ago without so much as a word - so I'm all she has."

"That's horrible." While it was an understatement, to be sure, it was all Petra could think of in response. At least it was able to draw a dry chuckle from the man.

“I guess you could say that.”

Not knowing how to dispel the tension that currently lay in the air, Petra turned to continue cleaning up the used bandages from the side table, disposing of them in the trash while she continued to think of what to say.

Noticing her unease, Levi sighed. "I didn't tell you all of this to make you feel awkward. You did ask, you know?"

"I don't feel awkward!" Petra insisted although she knew it was a fib. She rolled up the gauze that she had neglected to use while trying to choose her words carefully. "I'm just not sure what to say."

"You don't have to say anything,"  The man said, walking back around to the other side of the bed. His eyes drifted to the children's books that lay stacked on the side of the bed. "It's the ways things are and the way they will always be. All I can do is ensure that none of my decisions from here on out will infringe on her safety.'

Petra nodded. “I guess you're right.”

The room was quiet as Petra continued to bustle about. She fluffed Heidi's pillows a few more times, before reviewing the young girl's vitals. She didn't know what it was, but despite the tense atmosphere that lay heavy over the room, she really didn't want to leave.

No matter what she wanted though, she knew she had other patients to see.

Before she left, a thought came to her as she reached for the handle on the door. She remembered at the start of her shift that Levi had only taken leave of his daughter's room when Petra was guaranteed to be there and keep watch. The circumstance had Petra pausing.

Was that why he hadn’t bothered to go home and change yet?

Petra could see that the man needed a good shower and a fresh pair of clothes - but, after hearing about what happened, she highly doubted he was willing to leave the hospital while his daughter was still in such a vulnerable state.

She didn’t know what came over her, but suddenly she was speaking.

“I get off in a few hours. Do you want me to sit with Heidi while you go home and change?”

Her offer caused the man to turn his head, his eyes gazing at her warily. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know you probably need your rest.”

Petra shook her head. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing.”

"I couldn't -,"

"No offense," Petra finally said, her arms crossing over her chest in an act of defiance. " - but you are starting to look rough.”

This caused one side of the man’s mouth to quirk up. “I’m just now starting to? I thought surely when I walked in covered in blood yesterday that I looked about as rough as I could.”

“Well, then I guess you’ve been proven wrong.”

Levi shook his head. “I’m not leaving. Besides, I have nowhere to go. My home is a crime scene, remember?”

"You can use my apartment." The words had left Petra's mouth before she even had time to think. At the suggestion, she could feel her face heating up, but she continued speaking anyway. "Go at least take a shower - please."

This had the man's brows raising to his hairline.

"You would let a man who just murdered six people take a shower in your home?"

Petra shrugged. “Yeah, I mean as long as you promise not to mess with anything.”

“You’re damned crazy.”

"Yeah, maybe," Petra conceded, but her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. "But it's better than being stinky. I'm going to get a shirt from the lost and found for you to take. My shift is over in three hours, so try to at least get some rest before it's my turn to watch Heidi."

Without waiting for a response, Petra exited the room in a flurry of white fabric and frazzled nerves, missing the smirk that followed her actions as she hurriedly exited through the door.

- True to her word, Petra had returned to Heidi's room after clocking out. The woman handed the older Ackerman a piece of paper with her address, a key, and a plain white t-shirt - before practically pushing him out of the room.

Not allowing any chance of negotiation, Petra slammed the door behind him, fighting the urge to actually lock it.

Now fully awake, Heidi giggled at the sight of the young woman bossing her otherwise intimidating father around. The sound had Petra smiling, too. Though she was tired, she was looking forward to spending a bit of downtime with the girl.

During the hour and a half that Levi was gone, Petra learned many things about Miss Heidi Ackerman.

She was born in late September and couldn't wait for the Summer to be over so that she could finally be six. Her favorite thing to learn about was animals - hence, why her father always bought her stories with animal characters rather than humans. She had named the big teddy bear her father had gotten her, Felix, after a cat character with the same name that existed in one of the storybooks her dad had once read to her.

While it wasn’t new information, Petra was struck once again by how intelligent the little girl was.

Heidi shared with her the process of her daily routine - how she woke up in the morning to find a bowl of cereal already sitting ready for her at the table. Though her father was usually gone by this time, he always left a note telling her what time he would be home and reminded her to never open the door to strangers. After reading the note, she would do a few chores around the house - she loved sweeping - and even had her own little broom that matched her father's so that on the weekends they could clean the floors together.

While Petra imagined such an existence would be a sad one - being all alone in a house all day, especially, at such a young age - Heidi didn't seem particularly bothered by it.

"When Daddy gets home in the afternoon, he always cooks me something yummy for dinner," Heidi's voice held all the wonderment of a child, who was properly spoiled by her father. "Uncle Erwin even sometimes comes over and eats with us. He can toss me up in the air really high! Higher than Daddy!"

Petra found herself chuckling at this. “Oh, really?”

Heidi nodded excitedly, her cheeks flushed from the conversation and probably what was still a bit of residual pain. Despite this, she continued chatting as though she couldn't be bothered.

Petra felt her heart warm as the girl slowly began to open up more and more to her - remembering how quiet she had been during the first time she had attended to her.

It was as though the child that sat before her now was a completely different person from the one before. While she could probably blame some of that on the young girl's injury - a bigger portion of it was just that it probably took the girl time to warm up to people.

‘Much like her father,’ Petra supposed.

By the time Levi returned, both his daughter and the nurse were sat up in the hospital bed, the scene causing him to pause in the doorway.

Petra had sat herself behind Heidi, allowing the girl to lean back on her legs and chest in a reclining position. The nurse’s hands were working through the girl’s hair, her deft fingers twirling the long dark strands into a simple braid.

“I’ve always wanted a braid!” Heidi shared, squeezing her bear close to her chest. “I’m so excited! I hope it looks pretty.”

“Oh, it looks very pretty," Petra insisted, her light, chestnut eyes finally drifting towards the man that stood in the door. Her lips quirked up in a small smirk. "Doesn't it, Mr. Levi?"

Fighting the urge to groan at the use of mister before his name, the man closed the door to the hallway behind him before stepping fully into the room. "Oh yes - very pretty."

At his insistence, Heidi giggled - her little cheeks flushed now from the compliments.

Once the girl was situated back on her pillows - chatting with her bear about all the hairstyles she'd like to try to learn to do in the future - Petra turned to Heidi's dad, giving him a smile of appreciation.

Instead of wearing the t-shirt she had retrieved from him, he was wearing a dark blue one with the hospital logo that they sold in the gift shop. The woman had to smirk when she saw that.

"What are you -  a germaphobe?" She couldn't help but ask, remembering the wary look he had had on his face when she had handed the used t-shirt over. Though she couldn't blame him, being very particular about things like that herself, she couldn't hold back a laugh.

Levi shrugged. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

They stood there for a few silent beats, the only sound between them being that of Heidi's quiet voice as she chatted to Felix, the teddy bear. Finally, Levi pulled his hand out of his pocket, her key shining in his hand.

Petra held out her hand to receive it.

"Thank you for your hospitality." The man drawled, placing the object in the middle of her palm, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips. "Your lodgings were adequate enough, I guess."

After having heard from Heidi herself in the past hour of how her dad was a self-proclaimed 'clean freak' - the woman was not surprised at such a comment. In fact, knowing what she did now, it made her quietly chuckle.

“I’m glad.”

Petra called over her shoulder to Heidi that she would be back on the night shift in just a few hours, the girl happily waved at her as the woman made her way to the door. Knowing that she only had one more 12-hour shift for the week, the young nurse moved with a slight bounce in her step.

The realization that she probably only had one more night to spend with Heidi and her father had her pausing though.

Shaking her head, she attempted to rid her mind of the thought. She wasn't one to get attached to her patients and she definitely wouldn't start now.

Still, there was something in her heart that tugged every time she thought of Heidi’s sweet little face. Not only that, but the tug worsened every time she thought of Levi’s.

‘I need some sleep,’ She lamented to herself as she continued her way down the stairs.

Yes, sleep was all she needed.

-

Upon arriving on the 3rd floor for her fourth shift of the week, but third with Heidi, Petra was surprised to see the one and only, Erwin Smith exiting the room of her favorite patient.

She guessed she shouldn't be surprised by the appearance of the blonde man - given how much Heidi talked about him - however, what did surprise her was the grave expression present on his features. While not one to fear the worst, the furrow between his brows and the thin line of his lips had her heart sinking, just a bit.

After confirming with the day nurse that nothing had changed in Heidi's condition, Petra was able to breathe easier. Apparently, in the last hour, Dr. Shadis had even cleared the girl to return home whenever she pleased - however, both the Commander and Levi had convinced the doctor to extend her hospital stay by one day.

The day nurse said she had no idea what the reasoning was behind it but Petra had a good idea.

‘My home is a crime scene.’ Levi had said earlier in response to her pressures for him to go home and shower. The truth of the matter was, Petra feared that neither Levi nor Heidi had anywhere to go.

With that in mind, she entered the girl's room for her first round of medication with a slight hesitance in her gait.

Whatever nerves she had been feeling though dissipated at the sight of Heidi's joyful face.

"Miss Petra!" The girl exclaimed from her place in bed, arms wrapped around her teddy bear and now a large monkey plushie too. "Look what Uncle Erwin brought me!"

The woman was about to respond when a sort of grumbling coming from the direction of the chair caught her attention. Levi had his chin in his hand, his eyes glaring at the plush kitty that still sat on the bedside table untouched. Petra could see a hint of jealousy in his actions.

Dare she call it - adorable?

Though his mutterings weren't all that caught the woman's attention. The man had a whole new change of clothes on, the hospital t-shirt now stuffed away in the white bag that lay by his feet.

The commander must have brought him an extra pair of clothes.

Realizing that she hadn't ever answered Heidi's cheer, Petra smiled at the child who lay in the hospital bed. "Well isn't that a lovely surprise?"

Heidi nodded excitedly, hugging her plushies closer to her. “I think I’m going to name him Beast.”

"That's a lovely name," The nurse agreed, laughing quietly as she watched the girl's father roll his eyes. Despite the current levity in the atmosphere, the woman knew she wasn't going to be able to keep her mouth shut much longer.

Placing the cup of juice she had brought with her down on the bedside table, she busied herself preparing Heidi’s medication as she thought of how to brooch the topic.

“So, I heard Heidi’s been cleared to return home?”

Levi was silent for a moment, but she soon heard a grunt behind her. “It would appear that way.”

“I heard Dr. Shadis approved her for one more night in our care?”

Levi hummed in response, not saying anything more as the woman continued to arrange the pills. Her hands paused as she got to Heidi’s sleep medication.

“Will you be staying with Commander Erwin?”

At her question, the man remained silent - watching as Petra assisted Heidi with taking her pills. Always a brave patient, the girl barely grimaced as the nasty medication tumbled down her throat. When it was all over, the five-year-old simply laid back on her pillows, picking up right where she left off with her two stuffed animals.

It took Levi so long to respond that Petra figured he wouldn't say anything more on the subject - however, his quiet answer came soon enough, a sort of bitterness in his tone.

"No, we can't," He spat out, a rare show of his old reticence shining through. Petra could tell that it wasn't directed at her, though - it was more so in response to the situation. "Erwin thinks it's a bad idea for us to stay with anyone who's a part of the Survey Corps. If they had my address, who's to say they don't have any others?"

Petra had guessed this was the case by the way Commander Erwin had looked upon leaving the room. It was the look of a man who was used to solving problems, who just couldn't seem to solve this one.

Levi continued, missing the pensive look that settled across Petra's features. "He's trying to find somewhere cheap that we could stay, but at the end of the day, the Corps don't receive much funding. I barely make enough to pay for the place we have now and I'm still going to have to pay for it until my lease is up."

“You don’t think you’ll be able to go back after everything is cleaned up?” Petra asked, the wheels still turning in her head. Levi released a dry chuckle at the suggestion.

"I'm not going to make the brat stay in a home where she was almost killed. I may be a monster, but even I have more compassion than that." He spoke quietly, aware that Heidi was still very much awake and able to hear their conversation.

"There's no one you could reach out to and stay with?"

Levi laughed bitterly, once again. "The only people I know are either a part of the Survey Corps or thugs themselves, my options are pretty slim."

Petra nodded, quietly mulling over his words.

After a few moments, she made the offer she had entered the room willing to make.

“Why don’t you stay with me?”

Levi's brows rose, a look of mild shock commanding his features. Feeling uneasy from his reaction, Petra began to ramble in order to fill the awkward silence.

“I mean -,” She cleared her throat, hating how the words had come out as a mere squeak. “You said my lodgings were adequate, right?”

"Well, yes. But -,"

"I certainly wouldn't mind it - and you wouldn't have to pay me rent or anything! All I would need is maybe a little bit of money for groceries since I barely have any - and - uh - and I'm barely home anyway since I work so much, so it would probably be just like living alone!" The words left Petra in a rush, her brain working faster than her mouth as she tried to convince him that this option wouldn't be so bad. "I'm a pretty clean person, so you wouldn't have to worry about -,"

“Could you shut your damn mouth for a second?!”

The low growl of his voice had Petra pausing mid-ramble, her mouth hanging open as the man in the chair cleared his throat, in an attempt to get emotions back under control.

When he spoke again, his tone was even, incredulity evident in his words. "You really expect me to accept such charity?"

Petra closed her mouth, shrugging meekly. “I mean, do you have any other options?”

"Yeah, the street." The nurse found herself rolling her eyes at his words.

"What happened to not allowing any danger to fall upon your daughter again?" Petra asked, remembering their conversation from before. While the man's eyes flashed in anger at her implication, the woman didn't stop there. "Do you really think the safest place for your daughter currently is on the streets?”

The man was silent again.

“I can’t pay you.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“I hate charity.”

"This isn't charity." Petra insisted, meeting his steely gaze with one of her own. "I'm honestly being selfish. I don't think I could sleep at night knowing that the two of you ended up on the streets when I could have helped.'

“Why would you do that for people you barely know?”

"I don't know," Petra answered, honestly - her eyes drifting to where Heidi lay still unaware of the serious conversation taking place next to her. "But something inside of me is telling me that it's the right thing to do."

Levi stared at her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"So you would offer up your home to two strangers just because your heart is telling you to?”

While his comment was snide, Petra refused to back down. "And you would offer up your life to a cause that will most likely get you killed in the end? It seems like neither of us is very responsible when it comes to where our hearts lie."

The man couldn’t argue with that.

The room descended into a suffocating silence for a few moments, before Levi spoke again.

"What about Heidi?" He asked. "She stays home alone all day. Are you okay with a child residing by themselves in your apartment?"

"Not really," Petra admitted, though she had already thought about this. "But my friend who lives down the hall runs a daycare out of her home. I'm sure if I explained the circumstances, she would be willing to make an exception and let Heidi stay with her when you or I can't be at home."

Levi sighed, realizing she had thought this out a lot more than he had expected. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“Nope.” Petra smiled brightly, knowing that he was close to admitting defeat.

The man looked once more towards his daughter, who was now rubbing her tired eyes as she tried to win the battle against sleep.

“Fine.” He begrudgingly agreed, refusing to make eye contact with the now ecstatic ginger.

"Perfect!" The woman nearly exclaimed with glee - however, she kept her reaction quiet, aware of the presence of Heidi who was almost in the throes of sleep. "Leave all the planning to me. Heidi was cleared to stay one more night - so, once I finish my shift, I'll go home and get everything prepared for her discharge tomorrow afternoon."

Levi nodded, still not exactly happy about the situation.

"Don't think you're going to be able to stand around and mope, either," Petra warned, pulling the blanket up higher on Heidi's chest, the girl finally losing the battle against her eyelids. "I'm doing this because I want to, so I won't have you feeling guilty.

Levi shook his head, a smirk appearing on his features. "You're crazy."

"Maybe," Petra shrugged.

After picking up the empty glass of juice from the girl's bedside, Petra decided to take her leave, ready to attend to her other patients.

Before leaving the room, she turned back towards Levi, still sat in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

"We're going to figure this out," Petra assured him as she exited the room, smiling as he turned his face towards her - a look of apprehension on his features. "You, me, and Heidi - it'll work, I promise."

Though his answering smirk was tired, Petra could see that maybe - just maybe - he was starting to believe her.

[wrienne]

My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 10: His Ring

Namjoon and Seokjin’s eyes widened, though you got no reaction from Yoongi. He was like an ominous presence, sitting at an angle you could only watch him through your peripheral view as you stared down at your hands.

“How?” asked Namjoon. “And how do you know that?”

“Yes, isn’t amnesia both incurable and irreversible?” wondered Hoseok. "That's what the doctor told us."

“Starting with that...”

While explaining what you and Kim Sejin had spoken about that morning and the battle plan you had organized all day during school, all six of them were quiet. You finished with, “...I figured I could grab some of his clothes as well as hear your ideas about my plan.”

“It sounds like some kind of movie plot,” said Seokjin dubiously.

“Exactly what I told your manager,” you said and smiled half-heartedly. “But this is the only option we have. I, for one, refuse to let Jungkook lose all that he’s fought for. What all of you have fought for.”

“Even if it’s a slight chance, there’s still a possibility,” said Namjoon in agreement.

“What would you have us do, then?” asked Jimin.

“If you could write down a list, just as I have,” you said as you showed them your scribbles, “I’d have something more recent to go on from. I have never been very close to him, especially since his debut, so your input would help tremendously.”

“Why help him then?” Taehyung regarded you warily. His hard expression had gradually morphed into one of focus and attentiveness, but now you saw it teetering. Would he flare up again? “What do you have to gain?”

“Would you stop it?” Hoseok gave Taehyung a harsh glare, which made Namjoon and Seokjin look curiously at him. Hoseok pointed at Taehyung. “This one almost lost it downstairs, blaming Jungkook’s accident on (Y/N). Taehyung, you coming at her doesn’t exactly help the situation.”

“Hyung,” said Taehyung coolly. “Everyone with half a brain understands that she and Jungkook parted on unfriendly terms. Have you ever heard him curse like that - especially to a girl who is supposed to be a ‘family friend’? And he wouldn’t speak to anyone at all until Sejin-manager had taken us to the bar. She made him drink and run out on the street.”

“He’s halfway right,” said Seokjin as he scrutinized you. “I’ve never seen our Jungkook that mad.”

“Exactly,” said Taehyung triumphantly. “So you better tell us the truth: what do you have to gain from Jungkook?”

“Nothing,” you said earnestly, then fumbled as you tried to structure the rest of your reply. Technically, you had absolutely nothing to gain from Jeon Jungkook’s potential recovery and reascent to the music industry’s top. Meanwhile, it would take you more than three months of hard work and utter, genuine dedication to even have a shot at getting him to Japan. It could all just prove to be a waste of time. Minutes, hours, days, weeks better spent on you and yourself. Not to mention, that bastard had been unfaithful to you for who knows how long, in addition to having treated you sometimes like air, sometimes like dirt and sometimes like you were his worst enemy in the world.

But still. Still. You couldn’t abandon Jeon Jungkook in his time of need.

“It doesn’t make sense,” said Taehyung and crossed his arms over his chest. “Jungkook told me you disliked each other, and that you couldn’t stand him. So why?”

“I just…”

You grasped after the right words. Your mind was muddled, however, so you had no choice but to simply follow the second voice-in-command: your heart.

“If you were me,” you began carefully, “would you have allowed the son of your parents’ best friend to forget his childhood dream? I’ve known Jungkook all of my life - we’ve grown up together, spent every holiday with one another and celebrated everything from birth, life and death side by side. He was horrible most of the time, I’ll say that, but he was there for me when others weren’t. You might believe my family fortunes and good name generated friends wherever I went, but no. It didn’t. I’ve been on my own pretty much all my life.”

You hadn’t meant for the conversation to suddenly turn so personal, but there you sat, pouring your heart out to six strangers. Perhaps that’s what made therapy so popular. People listening to other people’s problems.

You took a deep breath. “When my grandparents died, Jungkook was the first one to each of their funerals. When I was about ten or so and fell down a cliff during a hike with our parents and broke my collarbone, Jungkook was the one who found me and dragged me back to camp. He practically saved my life. Now, I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t have been able to look myself in the mirror if I just left him the way he is now, especially when I have a chance to help.”

No matter his betrayal.

“I have no clue what Jungkook told you about me, but I would never premeditate hurting or upsetting or exploiting him in any way.” You cleared your throat, grimacing as your windpipe had tightened with every word you said. “Now yesterday was the first time I saw you guys on stage. And though I possess no particular experience in show business or even an ounce of musical talent, I saw--no, felt that he belonged up there. Still - and I haven't told you all - would you have left him if you were me? Abandoned him for old grudges?”

You hadn’t noticed how hard you were clutching your hands together. Not until you felt the odd, ticklish sensation signifying a lack of blood and circulation did you realize that your knuckles and fingers had whitened. You loosened up and caught Taehyung’s eyes.

“No,” he said, immediately casting down his focus. “I guess not.”

“What we spoke of is private,” you said quietly, feeling your chest constrict in pain at the memory. “It is something I can never disclose. But the conversation wasn’t of a threatening or hostile nature, and if I knew he would run out drunkenly on a street because of my decision, I would have never made it. I would never, ever wish Jungkook harmed.”

No one spoke. Taehyung didn’t raise his gaze.

You sniffled. Hoseok quickly came back from the hallway with some tissues and handed you them. You wiped your eyes and were relieved to find the tissue only slightly damp. You weren’t bawling, at least, though the mere presence of tears made you frown - you didn’t exactly have something to cry for. You weren’t somber or filled with grief at the memory of your grandparents' funerals. However, you were extremely tired and weary after last night’s escapade to the hospital. And your conversation with your parents hadn’t exactly done much to brighten up your mood.

You almost chuckled. You were used to calling Jungkook stupid, but who was the bigger fool, really?

Considering how the next three months would progress, it was ironic, it truly was.

“What should we do?” asked Hoseok finally, breaking the silence.

“Let’s split up into groups,” said Namjoon after said someone’s stomach grumbled. “Jin-hyung and I will get to cooking since it’s our turn anyway. The rest of you can start with a list each.”

“What are we even supposed to write?” Jimin scratched the back of his head.

“It might be a bit personal,” you told him, “but it probably has to be in order for it to be memorable. Just write down anything you might have done with Jungkook that you feel affected your relationship in any major way.”

“Write down anything that you imagine Jungkook might have remembered up until the accident,” added Namjoon and slowly stood. “Like the time we went bungee jumping or traveled to Northern Europe.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you said.

“And you’re going to do what with this information?” wondered Seokjin, standing also. “Isn’t it better if we just meet up with him and tell him all of this? Try to remind him while face-to-face?”

You shook your head. “I wouldn’t say he’s scared of you. But he doesn’t trust anyone and might straight-up refuse to listen to any of you. And even if some of you manage to convince him to hear you out, what if it turns out he doesn’t remember? That might make you frustrated at him or just left feeling needlessly hurt. Furthermore, I don’t want to stress him out any more than he already is. Imagine, it must be like waking up from a five or so year long dreamless sleep for him and suddenly he’s overwhelmed with the eager input from six or so people telling him he knows them the way he did.”

“Okay,” said Jimin with a nod. “Who has some pen and paper?”

“I do,” said Hoseok, then disappeared into one of the rooms. He came out with a notebook and tore out a page for everyone except you, Seokjin and Namjoon, then returned with an equal number of pens.

Namjoon and Seokjin headed into the kitchen while Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok eventually started discussing what would count as a “memorable memory”. Yoongi quietly pondered his sheet of paper, his dark gaze fixed upon the clean slate while he tapped his pen against the table surface.

He briefly found your eyes but said nothing.

Swallowing hard, you carefully unzipped your jacket and hung it over your chair as well as placed your duffel bag underneath your chair. Feeling uncomfortable just sitting there, you rose while putting up your hair with a hair tie and poked your head into the kitchen.

“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.

Seokjin was instructing Namjoon when he stopped and looked at you over the latter’s shoulder. “No, we’ll be alright. You can just sit with the others.”

You wouldn’t have minded just sitting and watching them if not for Yoongi’s watchful eyes. But since you couldn’t exactly say that, you smiled sheepishly. “I’m sort of not used being around so many guys.”

“No male cousins or siblings?”

“None.” Your smile fell a bit. “It’s a small family.”

“How long are you staying?” asked Namjoon. He had begun washing vegetables in the sink.

“Oh, not very long,” you said quickly. “I wouldn’t want to intrude for any longer than dinner. And I told Jungkook I’d be back at six.”

Seokjin and Namjoon looked at each other hesitantly. The latter shrugged, and Seokjin found your gaze again.

“Would you mind setting the table, then?” he asked.

About half an hour later, all seven of you were busy eating homemade tteokbokki and bought gimbap. They asked you about you and Jungkook, how long you had known each other, what school you went to, and so on. The lists had been compiled into one master list, courtesy of Namjoon, who had wanted to organize all of their ideas into relevant categories, like years, members and places. You hadn’t even been aware of how hungry you had been until then and ate quicker than everyone else. Or well, almost.

“It’s almost six o’clock,” said Min Yoongi as he stood. “Come, (Y/N). Someone’s got to show her to Jungkook’s things and Namjoon is still eating,” he explained at everyone’s confused frown.

“Oh, I had almost forgotten.”

You rose and began carrying your dishes to the kitchen when Jimin stopped you. “Let it be,” he said. “I’ll take care of it. You better get back to Jungkook.”

“Thank you,” you said, then looked at everyone seated at the table. For once, Taehyung didn’t look at you with poorly disguised fury. “Thank you for the food, and for your help. I really appreciate it, and I know Jungkook would as well.”

“We’ll finish the last of the master list meanwhile,” said Hoseok as you bent to pick up your duffel bag. “Try to steal some of Namjoon’s stuff. He has way too many clothes that fall underneath the ‘hobo’ category.”

“It’s ‘boho’ I tell you,” mumbled Namjoon as he covered his mouth with his hand. “It’s a popular fashion style overseas.”

“That might be, but you make it ‘hobo’.”

Namjoon sighed as the others laughed.

You smiled at Hoseok, who returned the gesture, then turned anxiously toward Yoongi. He gestured for you to come and you followed him into the same room Namjoon and Seokjin had exited from. The bedroom was small, with only barely enough space for two single beds, a wardrobe, a tall mirror and a desk with a lamp, but surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the apartment.

Yoongi closed the door shut after you, then led you to the swelling wardrobe, which almost reached from the floor to the ceiling. He opened the wardrobe doors and pointed in a general area of blacks, jeans and whites. There was a surplus of beanies, mouth masks and brand underwear as well.

“That half is Jungkook’s,” said Yoongi as he opened the wardrobe doors and pointed in a general area. “Though some of his clothes might be in the washing machine or drying.”

“I think he can manage with this,” you said as you began placing one item after another into your duffel bag.

You didn’t know exactly how much you needed to grab, but when you considered the bleak possibility that Jungkook might not ever return to the apartment again, you decided to take everything of his at least in the wardrobe. While initially conscientious - you knew how prim Jungkook could be with his things - you took it slow, placing clothes like Tetris. Then, realizing it would take hours, you just shoveled as much as you could into the bag.

You tried to ignore the pair of slim dark eyes silently watching your every move.

“Is there anything else of his in here?” you asked Yoongi when you were finished. The duffel bag actually looked like a body bag now, but would still have some room left over for a phone charger or a headset or so.

“He has a laptop and some gadgets he carries in a small bag.”

It didn’t take you long to find the computer and you carefully placed it inside a computer bag marked “JK”. You found chargers, a mouse and a headset inside the bag first, though, which you poured into the duffel bag instead. When you were finished, however, and started toward the door, Yoongi stopped you.

You frowned and tried not to sound frightened, but felt your heartbeats surge into a gallop. “Hey, what--”

And you stopped so abruptly you almost choked on your words. You had wondered where Jungkook’s engagement band was, ever since you saw its obviously vacant place on his finger the evening before. But now you knew.

Held between his index finger and thumb, Min Yoongi raised the promise ring your parents had given Jungkook, its circular, golden shape familiar to you. His expression didn't change, nor did his voice.

“At which point of the dinner were you going to tell us about your and Jungkook’s engagement?”

[dameronology]

the one where he takes a break {finn x reader}

summary: finn is dedicated - sometimes a little too dedicated. it takes the combined forces of you, rey and poe to convince him to take a day off. (for @softdin​ -- i hope you enjoy!)

warnings: just language! 

- jazz xx

Finn was an almost perfect human being.

Almost. 

He had pretty much everything good going for him; everything you could possibly have asked for in a partner -- funny, kind, sweet, caring, bad-ass. He embodied everything that was good in the galaxy and you thanked your lucky stars everyday that your paths had crossed, and that you were lucky enough to have found him. In a world that was so full of darkness, he brought a light to your life that you never knew you needed. He could make you laugh without even trying, and pretty much everything he did, he did with you in mind. He was your partner in crime and you couldn’t even fathom the idea of life without him. 

Finn’s only downfall wasn’t even a downfall, but rather a testament to how dedicated he was. Try as you might to stop him, but he spent hours upon hours fighting the good fight. His life had become a tangle of late nights and early mornings, managing to strike a balance between providing relief for former Stormtroopers like himself and training to be a Jedi with Rey. You genuinely didn’t understand how he managed to find enough time in the day to juggle everything and still find time for you -- then again, Finn had proved himself capable of doing the unexpected a million times over. He made it look completely natural and easy too. 

He would normally listen to you when you told him to take a break, but it was never for more than five minutes. To you, a break was stepping back from his work for a few days and enjoying the new galaxy he’d fought so hard to create. To him, it was pausing for a few minutes to get a glass of water and maybe watch an episode of his favourite sitcom. Every time you insisted on pulling him away from his tight schedule, he’d whine about how he thrived on stress! and needed to get shit done! 

You weren’t the only one that noticed it either. Rey and Poe had both voiced their concerns for Finn - but, if he wasn’t going to listen to you, he wasn’t going to listen to anyone. Convincing one of the most stubborn people you’d ever met to do something they didn’t want to do was going to be a mammoth task. But, you figured that if three of you had managed to defeat the First Order, your combined expertise on Finn and the workings of his mind could have had some sort of success rate. 

“I’m just worried.”

You were sat in a cantina with the two of them, eyes solemnly eyeing your now-flat beer. Finn was supposed to be there too, but he’d pulled another late night. You knew his work was important, but you missed him; not just his presence, but the actual physical feeling of having him crammed into the little booth beside you. You didn’t realise how much you missed the gentle smell of his aftershave and the tingly warmth of his body until it was absent. 

“I’m his best friend and he couldn’t even hang out with me this weekend.” Poe muttered. His lips were upturned, arms folded tightly across his chest. 

“That’s not the main issue here, Poe.” Rey reminded him. “Finn is overworking himself. He needs to take a break.”

“But he won’t.” You sighed. “I’ve tried everything.”

“Not everything.” Poe said. “What’s the one thing we’re all really good at?”

You frowned. “Holochess?”

“No.” He rolled his eyes. “Scheming.”

“Do go on.”

“What if we told Finn there was an important mission somewhere?” Poe began. “Maybe somewhere he’s always wanted to visit. Then, when he gets there, you can be all sike! You have been punked!”

“Punked?” You quirked an eyebrow. “How old are you, Dameron? Fifteen?”

“You two really can’t stay on the same subject for more than five minutes, can you?” Rey muttered. “Language aside, I think that could work.”

“He’s always wanted to go to Coruscant.” You said. “Just never got the chance.”

“I can tell him we have a mission there.” Poe nodded. “Then you two can meet us there, and we can all hang out.”

“Or,” Rey held her hand out, shushing the pilot. “You take him there, give the two of them some much needed alone time for a few hours, then we all hang out in the evening?”

He furrowed his brow again. “Fine.”

You grinned. “Thank you! It has been a while since we’ve actually, properly spent time together.”

“So,” Poe glanced up from his drink. “How about tomorrow?”

--

Okay, so you did feel a little bit guilty. 

It was hardly like you were putting Finn out his way, but you and Rey had left it down to Poe to convince him of an emergency mission - and knowing Dameron, he probably would have recounted some horribly frightening story to make his best friend agree to come. The details of which you, quite frankly, did not want to know. 

You arrived on Coruscant a few hours before they were meant to arrive -- they’d taken the Falcon, so you’d snuck out in an X-Wing and docked up a little way out of the main city. 

It had been a few years since you’d visited Coruscant, but it was still just as beautiful as it had always been. The cityscape stretched out for miles, skyscrapers and buildings tangling into an urban jungle; the air was filled with a sense of hurry and adventure, crowds bustling wildly and people rushing around as though time here went twice as quick as it did everywhere else. You couldn’t help but smile; after years of fighting in the Resistance, it felt like someone had finally pressed the play button on your life again (and you couldn’t wait to spend it with Finn). 

Speaking of the devil, you were supposed to be meeting him on the corner of one of the busiest parks. After buying a horribly overpriced hotdog, you found a bench just by a fountain and took a seat, people watching for a moment. Hundreds and hundreds passed you by, some stopping to admire the green grass around you and others barely taking a breath as they flew off to their next destination. It made you wonder who they were, and where they were going. 

Your thoughts stopped completely when your eyes landed on Finn; he was a few meters away, a holopad in his hand and BB-8 behind him. He was clearly in work mode, with hand ready on his blaster, dark eyes scanning the crowd around him for any signs of danger.  Among the butterflies, it made your chest hurt a little bit. Even though the war was over, he still found it hard to completely relax. It was almost as though he didn’t trust the universe to be nice enough to let him. The only time he ever really let his guard down and truly untense was when you were both in bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms and presences under the covers of the dark. 

“What did you say the suspect looked like?” He spoke into his earpiece - presumably to Poe Dameron, who had had far too much fun orchestrating the entire thing. “Black jacket, dark jeans, red boots…”

Finn spun around, freezing when his eyes landed on you. For a moment, he almost thought he was imagining it, or that you maybe had a twin you either didn’t know about or hadn’t mentioned to him. Then, he realised you were wearing a black jacket and red boots, and his look of confusion morphed into one of realisation. 

“Dameron, you glorious bastard.” He muttered. Shoving the holopad in his bag, he gave you a grin and opened out his arms to you. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You met him halfway, flinging your arms around him. Finn lifted you up off the ground for a moment, arms gripping you tightly. He’d hugged you literally that morning before he’d headed out for the day, but this one felt a little different. It was tighter and warmer, as though the realisation of what you and your friends had done for him didn’t quite feel real. His brain was going at a thousand miles an hour, trying to calculate the fact that you’d all gone out of your way to surprise him. 

“Hey.” You greeted him. He placed you back on the ground and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. 

“So, there’s no mission?”  He grinned at you. 

“Nope.” You shook your head. “We just wanted you to take the day off.”

“We?”

“Me, Rey and Poe.” You replied. “But they’re coming later. I wanted you to myself for a few hours.”

Finn smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You returned the grin. “Now, c’mon! What do you wanna do?”

He threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you began to head out of the park. He hooked his hand around your side, resting it on your hip. Even though you’d been a couple for a while, you still got butterflies whenever Finn showed you signs of affection. They were always tiny, subtle things; a hand on your thigh under the table, fingers tangled together when you slept. He always liked to feel you in some way, to know you were really and truly there. You kept one another grounded - and when you lived in a galaxy that was completely fucking whack, that was important. 

The two of you walked together for a few moments, quietly chatting amongst yourselves. You were lucky that the weather was almost perfect; the sun was high in the sky, but there was still a subtle chill in the air that occasionally breezed past. There were barely any clouds in the sky either, which meant it was probably going to stay sunny for the rest of the day. That only helped further your good mood. 

“I thought I saw some kind of food festival going on earlier.” Finn said. “I didn’t have time to stop, on account for the fact I thought I was on a mission.”

“It was the only way we could get you to take a damn break!” You playfully reminded him, tugging his arm. “But I do like the sound of food.”

“Then food, we shall get.” He pulled you closer into his side. 

It was only a short walk away -- and once you’d left the park and headed back onto the streets, you got to see more of Coruscant’s sites. You passed the tallest building in the city; it was so big that you couldn’t even see the top, instead squinting up at a seemingly endlessly skyscraper that became one with the sun at some point. There was also many statues of important people - Jedis and rebels and pilots  - and it hurt your heart a little when you spotted Leia’s. Finn sensed your bittersweet glances at the memorial, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. His connection to the Force and the empathy that came with it was never too much, and never in your face. It was shown simply through small actions,  as though he had a very strong intuition.

The food festival was a few blocks over from where you’d meet. You didn’t even think it was possible for the city to get even busier and yet, the crowds here were even stronger and more wild than the ones you’d seen else-where. Finn’s grip on you tightened as you entered, tossing the door-man a few credits with a charming. You did open your mouth to protest, and insist on paying on yourself, but he gave you a look that said don’t even try it. 

“What’s this stuff?”

Finn grabbed something from a random plate, shoving it in his mouth. You couldn’t blame him for being curious but you did lose a few seconds off your lifespan every time he grabbed a random sample without reading the ingredients. And, it became quickly apparent that it was something he did a lot. After forty minutes of fuck, that’s spicy and I’m not entirely sure that’s even food, you eventually took charge of which flavour palettes he went for. 

“Okay, this one doesn’t look too spicy.” You examined a bit of...it might have been cheese? 

“Thank you kindly.” He took a bite and paused for a second. “That’s really good.”

“Oh my days.” You murmured. “It’s made your tongue go bright blue.”

Finn stuck his tongue out, going cross eyed for a moment to examine the damage. He looked horrified for a moment, before breaking into a grin. You barely had a chance to work out what he was doing before he lurched forward, trying to grab you.

“Can you kiss it better?” He asked. “I think I might be dying.”

“Finn!” You loudly squealed, narrowly avoiding ploughing someone over as you leapt out the way. “Get off-”

“- please!” He continued to implore.

He grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up and out the way of the crowd. There was a little alleyway in between two buildings that offered cover; he dragged you into it, bodies shaking with laughter as you fell back against the wall. Both his large hands rested above your head, one working its way down from the wall and to the small of your back. He used its positioning to press you flush against his chest, capturing your lips in a breathtaking kiss. 

“I love you.” Finn breathlessly murmured. “And now your tongue is blue too. We’re matching.”

“Finn!” You exclaimed. “It’s fine, because I love you too.”

“I love you more.”

“Don’t start an argument you can’t finish.” You reminded him. 

He didn’t say anything - instead, he just held your gaze for a moment, brown eyes completely capturing your attention and making you forget everything else around you for a moment. The crowds, the noise, the excitement. None of it mattered when you were together, because everything he made you feel was a thousand times more overwhelming that even the busiest cities and emptiest deserts. 

“C’mon.” Finn took your hand again, pulling you away from the wall. 

“Where are we going?” You asked. 

“Let’s just walk.” He said. “And talk.” 

“Mmkay.” You replied. “I like that.”

--

You ended up exploring lots of the city that afternoon; the financial district, the arts quarter, the Jedi museum. It would have taken days to see everything that Coruscant had to offer, but you were both content with what you had the chance to see. It was a stunning reminder that the history of the galaxy stretched back far, far longer than either you or Finn could fathom. Moreover, it made you realise how important it was, and that everything you’d spent the last few years fighting for had been beyond worth it. 

By the evening, you were both pretty tuckered out. Finn, who usually had a spring in his step, was dawdling now, an ice cream in one hand and his free arm tossed over your shoulders. The bright blue of the Spring sky had begun to fade into pink, with navy tinging at the edges and reminding everyone that the day was drawing to a close. It was perfect timing too, because you weren’t too far from where Poe and Rey were waiting with the Falcon. 

“Where are we even going?” Finn asked. 

“You’ll see.” You flashed him a grin, trying to pull his arm and force him to walk a little faster.

In his defence, it was up a steep hill, and he’d already done what felt like a million steps that day. He hadn’t even realised til now how tired he was, because you’d both been so caught up in each other’s presences for the entire day. And, whilst this whole thing hadn’t been to try and get him to take more days off, it was certainly an idea that he’d begun to think about. He’d forgotten how good it was to just take the day off and exist just as Finn, not Finn the ex-Stormtrooper or Finn the Jedi. 

The path eventually flattened, opening out onto a green hill. It was where the city ended and the forest began -- between a tangle of trees, the large grass space looked out onto the skyline. You could see for miles and miles, yellow lights illuminating the black sky and creating an outline of an urban utopia. It didn’t look all that different from the blurs of hyperspace, except if you looked close enough, you could work out single buildings and windows. Each one represented a different place and person; thousands of individual people who all lived their own lives and had their own stories to tell. 

Before Finn could say anything, there was a blur of brown leather and dark curls -- Poe Dameron had made an appearance, pulling you both into a tight hug and almost forcing you onto the ground from his might. He’d only seen you both that morning, but he truly was like a Golden Retriever who had been left alone that day. 

“C’mon, we’re over here!”

The pilot grabbed you by the hands, pulling you further towards the centre of the field. The Falcon was parked in the middle; the window on the top of the cockpit was open and covered with blankets and pillows. Rey was already up there, just as enchanted by everyone else at the view. Like Finn, there was still so much of the galaxy that she was too yet to explore. 

Finn went up first, sticking out his hand to help you up. He pulled you into his lap as he took a seat, arms winding around your front and holding you to his chest. With his head resting on your shoulder and a blanket thrown over both of you, it was easy to get comfortable. 

“A beer for you,” Rey handed you both a drink, “and one for you.”

“This view is insane.” Finn commented. “How did you find it?”

“My parents used to come here, way back when.” You explained. “It was kind of their spot.” 

“That’s amazing.” He replied. “Thank you guys. I really can’t believe you did all this for me.”

“We wanted to.” Poe chimed in. “We’ve all missed you, buddy. You work way too hard.”

“It makes us all look bad.” You joked. “No, but seriously. We’re all very proud of you, but you do need to start taking proper breaks. They probably won’t all be like this but the time off is good.”

His grip on you tightened, and he gave you a light squeeze. “You’re right. I just...I know that the war is over, but keeping myself busy is all I’ve ever really known.”

“We can keep you busy.” You peered up at a him with a grin. “I can’t promise we won’t get on your nerves, though.”

Finn shook his head with a chuckle. “I know I’ve said it a thousand times today, but I love you.”

“And me!” Poe reached out to give his shoulder a whack. “And Rey, too!”

“I love you all.” He corrected himself. “You’re my family.”

[cherryonigiri]

when and where (oikawa tooru) - part one

Summary: Tooru can’t seem to understand you loneliness, and you can’t understand his desire to sacrifice anything to be by your side again. In which the words ‘opposites attract’ are both your beginning and end. (Inspired by the song/lyrics of Undone by Haley Reinhart)

word count: 1.8k 

“Stars fade away, they just crash into space, disappear from my life, like you and I.” 

“Tooru,” you whisper. The numbers ‘5:00′ glare back at you in red, reminding you of the sleep that continues to evade you, despite feeling utterly exhausted. Your phone is glowing against the pitch black, the blue light acting as a substitute for the moon, which hides behind wispy clouds. “I miss you.” There is an ache that starts in the back of your throat, winding its way down to your chest where it stays, pushing, prodding, pounding against your sternum. Thankfully your voice doesn’t crack, but the tears are still there, trailing down your cheeks. You’ve steeled your resolve, but your heart is still drowning in the loss that is yet to come.

“I know darling,” he laughs. “I miss you too.” Another light-hearted chuckle. You can hear him shuffling through his bag. Seconds later, after the tap of shoes on tile, keys jingle and you hear the thump of the door shutting. It’s almost evening in Brazil (you know because you’ve long since memorized how many hours are between Sendai and Rio). The sun is probably setting on the beach Tooru just returned from, in complete opposition to the flickering stars keeping watch over your sleepless figure. 

That’s how it is between the two of you. Day and night. Tooru was more than happy to revel in his overwhelming brightness - embracing his role as the best setter in the prefecture and his popularity amongst his fans. He always had that smirk, the one that was always plastered on his face that screamed confidence in who he was. 

On the other hand, you clung to your shyness - you’d never liked large crowds to begin with, and you were happy with the small, close-knit, group of friends you’d made. You weren’t closed off, but new things were met with caution. Tentative touches and long gazes to determine whether an unfamiliar addition would disturb the peaceful familiarity you’d woven. 

The words ‘opposites attract’ made you snort, but you couldn’t deny that you’d been drawn to Tooru’s effervescent energy. (A year after you’d started dating Tooru had admitted he’d found a quiet refuge in his relationship with you.) In the beginning, Tooru had coaxed you out of your shell. Never forcefully, and always done with an observant eye. He ignored his team’s teasing, only inviting you to watch them practice after introducing you to each member individually outside of the university gymnasium. He’d rush you home in a heartbeat the minute you looked overwhelmed or uncomfortable. Like two planets, gravity had drawn you together, pushing you closer and closer with every orbit.

Now it’s different. Gravity is chasing after you, bringing your heart catastrophically close to disaster before flinging it into the distance. Your whispered ‘I miss you’ wasn’t an attempt to impart a fleeting bit of affection, or to reassure Tooru that your heart still beat for him every second of the day (which it did). No, it was meant to hide an unspoken plea that was begging him to return, to once again indulge in hour long phone calls late into the evening; to be present. Of course, you weren’t expecting him to pick up on that. After all, you’d dedicated your time alone to perfecting the art of not letting anyone know of your unravelling.

It started slowly—long video chats in the evening became less frequent, replaced by a dwindling number of rushed phone calls on the train to work. Short texts, snuck between sets and during water breaks, became the norm, erasing your habit of sending each other paragraphs about your days. You knew he felt guilty for missing the small snippets of time that he could spend with you. At the core of his being, Tooru is a caring person: he would run himself ragged and work himself to the bone for someone he loved. It was a double-edged sword; working harder and dedicating more time to accelerate his progress so he could return to you faster meant he was inevitably drifting away. 

“Tooru, I can’t do this anymore.” You wince as you throw your plan out of the window, foregoing any kind of verbal cue that would let him know that this was serious. That you were talking about more than having a mundanely horrible day at work.

“Love, what happened today? Was today a bad day? I thought work was going better…” Your boyfriend trails off as you remain silent. 

“This. Us. I think,” you gulp down the sob that threatens to erupt from your throat. “I think we should break up.” You have to force out those two words, break up, because saying them out loud makes it real. Makes this whole conversation real. Grounds it reality, in the realization that this is really happening, that your heartbreak is rushing towards you much faster than you ever wanted. 

You expect him to protest. To at least exclaim loudly and object to the separation. Maybe a part of you wants him to plead, to experience the same hollow loneliness of missing him. To tell you that, yes, I am suffering just as much, and feeling just as broken as you are. Maybe you are desperate, hoping that he’ll convince you that the exuberance he expresses over the phone is one of his carefully constructed facades.

“Can I at least know why?” You catch the slight uptick of his voice, the crack that he tries to hide from you. 

And that’s when your heart truly shatters. 

Because, by asking that question, he reveals that somewhere between his last night in your apartment and today, at five in the morning, the two of you stopped inhabiting the same realm of separation. In a way, Tooru had confirmed what you’d started fearing with every passing day: that he was stronger than you’d ever be. That he could bear the weight of being separated by continents and oceans while you were crumbling. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t endure the pile of missed calls followed by rushed texts of apology. You can’t stand that the only time you can talk to him is on crowded subways where the ever present bustle of other commuters intrudes on your conversations. God, now that you think about it, when was the last time you’d talked to Tooru for more than five minutes? 

“We barely talk anymore Tooru,” you begin, hunching over as both the tears and words begin to flow freely. “I—”

“But you know why y/n!” he responds. He’s pacing, the thumps of his feet echoing through the receiver. He lets out a sigh and you know he’s running his hand through his hair. It’s one of his habits that you have memorized. It’s painful how easy it is for you to imagine Tooru; all his little gestures and mannerisms etched deeply and intimately into your memory. 

“Yes, I know why,” you hiss. “But the fact that you never told me outright? That hurt Tooru.” It still does. It’s his strange blend of selflessness and ambition that has led you here. You thought you’d be sad, that this conversation would leave you with a heavy heart. Instead, a small spark of anger lodges itself in your chest. 

“How was I supposed to?” He retorts. “It’s not like I can ask you to give up your time with me. I’m trying my best to get back to you sooner!” But how can he say that when he’s already left you behind? Instead of extinguishing your anger, he only fans the flames, truly setting you alight. 

“Did you ever think to ask me? Did it ever occur to you that I would rather have waited for longer if that meant you could actually have time for us?” Your rage is dangerous and all-consuming, centering you within the bitterness of the isolation that Tooru had forced upon you.

Silence. And then,

“Y/n…” The way Tooru says your name nearly breaks your resolve. “Please, just wait a little longer. I’ll figure something out, I can train more so I can come back in less than a year. I’m just asking you to be patient.” No, no, no. What he’s offering is worse. You want him to make more space for your relationship, not less. In his quest to hasten his return, he’d turned to a method that consumed the time you occupied in his day. Slowly but surely, the space you’d taken up was sacrificed, leaving you with nothing but those five minutes on the train ride to work.

“That’s not what I want!” You shout. Why is his solution to make things worse? 

“Then what do you want?” He screams back, his thinly veiled irritation blooming into confused anger. “You’re lonely, so I’m trying my fucking best to go back to you as soon as possible. “Why…” he pauses, as if he’ll regret his words, before plowing on, “can’t you just accept that?” 

Suddenly, all the air is knocked out of your lungs with a whoosh. You barely have time to realize you’d stood up in the midst of your argument before you’re sagging against your bed frame, wilting until you’re sitting on the floor. 

You’ve given up, because Tooru’s stubbornness has manifested itself as an irremovable wedge between the two of you. Blinded by his belief that all you desire and yearn for is his physical presence, he can’t even begin to see that all you want is to be given a semblance of space within his life. To have a few hours of his voice, rather than the fleeting promise of reuniting sooner. To accompany him, rather than wait for him at the end of his journey. He is unwilling to bear witness to the different kind of loneliness you suffer; unwilling to peer into the parallel, yet utterly different, dimension of suffering that branches from his own longing for you.

“Tooru…” I’m being selfish, “This isn’t working. Just let us go,” whatever we are now, before it gets worse. You’re not sure if he can hear the shaky inhale of your lungs as you try to steady your voice. 

“I can’t,” he sobs. “Why can’t you see I’m doing this for you?”

Because you can only see me as the finish line, not as someone who runs beside you. Because somehow, you can only worry about the me you see in the future, not the person who is speaking to you now. “I’m sorry,” you say, your voice still wavering despite your best efforts.

‘No, please, y/n—”

One last reassurance. “Thank you for everything.” I love you.

“Y/n wait, please, don’t do this.” His pleas are tearing you apart. “I can take a break, fly back—”

You refuse to be the reason he halts his momentum. “Goodbye, Tooru.” A broken whisper. 

Equal and opposite, two stars crash into each other violently. Flickering in and out, they vie for the chance to exist as they clash against each other, emitting white sparks.

A press of a red button. 

Both of them are gone.