#a crumb of what my boy has been through sob

[ofgoldengrove]

where : a ship full of prisoners just off the shore of the summer isles what : the arbor has sent ships in crusade as a response to the burning of the septs, the waters are now treacherous as an impending fight is about to take place.

tw: imprisonment and drowning.

the months dragged on as the second son of goldengrove sat within his cell aboard a ship, with only a small window of sunlight upon to remind him of the world outside of it. it seemed a deal was struck with the osgrey's, with his life being the cost of part of it, though to some it was death, to him it was imprisonment, which felt more of the same.

still, he persevered. calculating every day how he might escape, most possibilities ending in actual death. every time they docked and set foot outside, laboring all throughout the day, the eyes of mathis rowan honed in on the sea - his escape.

the opportunity finally came, as a game of cyvasse was played with a fellow prisoner, with small pebbles found within the dusty floor of the cell, when yelling was heard from the upper deck. he looked to the man across from him, almost as if they both understood what this could mean, and soon, chaos erupted within the . guards entered, barking orders that mathis could not quite make out. they were suddenly filed together, being brought upon the main deck of the ship.

was this finally it? were they finally being disposed of? mathis figured the time would come sooner or later. perhaps it was too many mouths to feed, not enough results yielded from their labors, regardless it only made him realize the window to find an escape was closing.

the sun, something so golden and cherished to him, was suddenly blinding, strikingly so, orbs squinted as he tried to make out the waters surrounding them, but he did not have time to assess the situation fully before he heard the first scream, a man pushed into the water, deep and unforgiving, and then another, and another….

this was it. he thought. trying to loosen the ropes that dug into the flesh of his wrists as the haunting sound of bodies hitting the water far below continued. there was more yelling, suddenly, panicked it seemed. why were the guards panicking? eyes adjusted to the light finally, and this time he saw sails in the near distance, sails so familiar to him he thought he must be mistaken.

but he was not, and suddenly a fight broke out, swords drawn, defenseless, mathis found himself amongst the remaining prisoners, cornered. only two options remain: jump, or be cut down. a couple took the first option, weighing their odds, a few, including mathis, stood there.

as the guards moved in closer, the second son of goldengrove closed his eyes. inhaling deeply. the sea air was refreshing, the sun was warm on his face, perhaps this was an ok time to go. head tilted upwards, eyes closed, he spoke the words he had learned in his youth a lifetime ago:

"to the gods we belong and to the gods we return."

suddenly, the booming sound of a cannon rung in his ears, the splintering of wood blinding, the screams of men deafening. and instantly the ship was boarded by men of the arbor, men he recognized somewhat. would they recognize him?

they skillfully cut down the men of the summer isles, men who were not trained in such combat as those of the arbor were, men who were likely fairly green except for a skirmish here and there. mathis found himself dodging blows and eventually on the ground. a hand grabbed him roughly and stood him up. it became clear that he was the last man standing at this point, now surrounded by arbor sailors.

the ropes upon his wrists had come undone, and he held up his hands to show he was not one of the others, and not armed. this was his only chance now.

"my name is mathis rowan, second son of goldengrove, brother of tirius, former hand to cedric tyrell. and i humbly request safe passage back to the reach."

[yanderend]

All Yandere's reactions when you hug them!

Requested by an anon (well, sorta...)

— The Detective

As far as Charlie's concerned, your hug came out of nowhere! He knew he was successful in you starting to feel more comfortable with him— but wasn't expecting this!

His initial response is to push you off, out of shock and embarrassment.

Seeing your face, all affectionate and smiley makes his heart race, and he's not quite sure what to do! Usually he's the one trying to render you blushy.

What can I say? Cuddles make him feel soft!

Quickly, he pulls you back into the hug, this time holding you so tight you can barely breathe.

'Don't you dare share this with anyone, okay? You know what'll happen...'

He speaks with his usual malice, but it's a little less threatening than he'd like when you can feel the heat burning from his cheeks.

— The Childhood Friend

· Eli never knew how much she missed the feeling of a good, long hug. You two have almost always been fine with physical touch, but after her spiral you seemed to become a bit more wary— and she hated that!

So, oh boy is she happy to have you finally be physical with her again!

Your hug might result in a few tears, as she holds you tight and shakes with happiness.

'I- I thought you hated me...' She sobs, nuzzling into your neck. 'Please never stop again... Don't let go.'

Not that you'll be physically able to let go, anyway. She'll have an iron grip on you until she's cried all her tears out.

Just like old times, eh?

— The Worshipper (cw: suggestive at the end)

His prayers have been answered! Kazuo has spent days on end asking for a crumb of touch.

(It has been 48 hours since you last hugged him. What are you doing, starving the man?)

He simply can't help it, standing there, frozen as tears well in his eyes, overwhelmed from the feeling of warmth with your body wrapped around him.

'O-oh dear... Oh gosh...' He whimpers, hands flailing, unsure of whether he should hug you back or not. 'I'm not- I'm really not deserving of this, my love! Please--'

When you give him permission to hug back, his touch is incredibly gentle; careful, even. Kazuo feels like he's melting into your touch, wondering if this is what heaven will be like. He sure hopes so.

Even when you let go he feels the warmth residing on his body— leaving him in a fuzzy afterglow all day.

He's a desperate boy, and the slight scent of you on his robes drives him insane. He berates himself for thinking such sinful thoughts, but can't help wondering how long he could've kept you there... Touching him.

He wants more, always hoping, every time he sees you, that you'll do it again. Maybe you'll do more, that time..?

— The Queen Bee

• Anya's immediate thought is to take a picture— preserve this moment! A defining moment of your relationship, to be sure!

Whether it's a short hug or a long one, she'll be sure to make little comments; an attempt at convincing you to hug her more often.

When you hold her, her bout of narcissism comes back in full.

'Look at you, getting all friendly! It's alright if you're falling for me, cutie. We both know I'm irresistible, haha!'

She plays it off as a joke, but she means every word. Your affection solidifies her ideals of you two being a power-couple.

It takes a minute to hit her that you could be this open with others, too. Anya won't allow that, no way!

'Careful not to go around giving everyone this treatment, you don't want to give them the wrong idea, do you? No, I don't think of you that way, of course!' She takes a second to think, bringing her hand up to run it through your hair. 'In fact, why not just keep the hugging to me, yeah? You're soooo super cute when we're alone, after all!'

— The Fanclub

★ The excited squealing of lovestruck girls is one you should get familiar with. You're going to hear it a lot after this.

Fortuna becomes a stuttering mess immediately— she needs to say something, anything! But nothing's coming out except for excited and incompressible whispers.

Aurora is a little more forward, but her heart is still beating way faster than she can keep up with, and she's a little lost too.

The former will shake in your grasp, carving every detail of your body this close-up into her mind. She'll be thinking about this all day, if not all year.

The latter will place a hand on your heart, cozying up and testing the waters as to how close she can get. And also... to gauge if your chest is thumping as loud as hers. (Though, if she picks up any heartbeat at all she'll take that as a 'yes' and let her imagination run wild.)

'H-hey! Um... you're not like... acting like this with any other fans, are you?'

You're confused by the 'fans' sentiment, but that just makes the two of them high-five and interpret it as a "you two are my favourite ladies, so you get special treatment" response.

It wasn't that at all, but it's much safer to let them think that.

— The Deity

Nitai's head has a buffering moment, responding with a 'huh?' when he feels you burrow into his chest.

He wraps muscular, super-soft arms around you, and gets a dopey smile on his face. A hug has never felt so good...

'Am I winning you over, my little angel?' Nitai hums softly. 'Good, good. You're being so nice and loving to me today.'

His nearly inhuman height and strength only gives him a warmer feeling in his chest— you're so very fragile, holding onto him like that.

It's decided! He has to protect this, protect you! There's nobody that should share this experience. They could hurt you!

Nitai will now ask for cuddles CONSTANTLY, his craving for physical attention now overriding everything else.

Any chance The Diety has to hug you goodbye, or crawl into your bed when you're having trouble sleeping— he'll use anything as an excuse to snuggle up close, even something ridiculous.

He's reminded of all the previous followers of his who would've given their right arm to hug him— Oh well, he's always been a fan of nepotism.

— The Anomaly (cw: mild body-horror)

Yvetan was wondering when you were going to do something like this. They chalked the lack of impromptu hugs as having to 'act professional' in front of the armed guards.

They let out a not-quite-right sigh, and let their entire, sore body rest in your arms. They're a lot lighter than you expected, to note.

Yvetan's eyes flutter open to look at your face, their head leaning comfortably on your shoulder. They're wondering why they didn't just miracle you into doing something like this in the first place.

It means even more to them that you did it of your own accord, though. Even more to cherish. What a truly pure human...

'You two,' they speak suddenly, not even turning to look at the guards behind them. 'Look away, now.'

The guards look to eachother, and then to the two of you, stating that they're can't do that as it'd be against protocol.

Yvetan huffs, and you can feel their body go tense for a moment, holding you with their left arm.

From the position you're in, you have clear view of the guards faces crumpling up in horror before one drops his weapon to raise his visor up in a panic.

No eyes. The entire upper half of his face had been flattened out — removed of any features. The guard standing next to him doubles over, dry-heaving before facility medics run into the room to escort them out as they start to scream.

You can feel The Anomaly smile against your skin as they start playing with your hair.

'I can't let them in on this intimate moment of ours. You understand, yes, dear soulmate?'

— The Idol (cw: suggestive)

## Jamison has been open with touch since the moment you met, and has himself constantly prepared to hug you if you need it. (Or if you don't.)

He's never been good with such a genuine emotional connection until you, though, so having a meaningful hug full of so many feelings has him shaking in your grip.

He gets so excited- and not even in the sexy way he normally is! This is just so much for him...

You think he was bad when he broke his arm to get your attention? You've seen nothing yet. Minor or major injuries will become worryingly common— and the only thing he ever asks for when you ask what you can do to help is a hug, or a peck on the lips, if he's feeling cheeky.

Naturally with The Idol, he's going to take every opportunity to invite you to hug him in the public eye so that people know who you belong to. No-one's going to mess with a celebrity's partner right in front of them.

After you initiate PDA, he might take it a bit far and try and get steamy with you on date night. Surely, you want him as much as he wants you, so what's the problem there?

You get groped a bit more often than usual now, and Jamie can't help but be a little disappointed you don't do it back (as often, at least.)

[alecsalamander]

“Ćhavorro,” comes the familiar greeting from an unfamiliar tongue; he knows it is his mother in the way he does not shrink into it, does not allow himself to lean into the endearment like he would if it were Bibio. In some small part of him, it no longer surprises him that she’s come. “I heard about what happened,” she continues, lingering in the doorway like she’s finally accepted her lack of welcome in his life. “Up north.”

He meets her gaze, pointed and unimpressed. “I’m sure you did.”

The thing about the years she’s walked in and out of his life is that he’s never seen her get older – his mental image of her is that of the healthy young mother who left, and the too few glimpses of her since have been too shrouded with anger and resentment for the clarity of really seeing. But here, in the quiet nighttime hours of the space that is his, he really looks at her. At the way she shrinks under his words, or maybe his tone. At the way her hair is more silver than black now, and her face more lines than curves. At the way that, logically, he knows he’s the same age now as she was when she left and that they’ve both lived entire lifetimes since.

For the first time, he realizes that his mother is growing old.

“Mami told me,” she hesitates again, unsure in a way that she shouldn’t – she’s never before questioned her visions of what’s to come, never before doubted the futures she sees come to pass. That same small part of him, tired and vicious, thinks that if she were going to, the time has long since passed. “I wanted to see if you were okay.”

He shouldn’t be, but he is.

The thing about dying is that it’s long since stopped scaring him, not since the first handful of times. It’s the living, truly living, that he’s had trouble adjusting to. For so many years he’s existed within his own transience, content in the life he kept on loan; it’s the tending to roots that he’s still learning. Hence, the ownership.

“I will be,” he gives her more than she deserves – maybe he’s not the only one learning to own the parts of his life that he’s carried for years. Maybe his mother is also navigating her own relationships with her mistakes. “We,” and he stutters, but only for that single breath. “My family and I, we will be.”

She pinches her lips into something similar to a smile, and nods at him. Whether she knows who all he means by that or not, she knows enough to know he doesn’t mean her.

In the silence that follows, he watches the way she roves hungry eyes over his entire presence, searching for whatever scraps of the man he’s become she can find. Watches the desperate search for crumbs in the pieces of himself he allows the world to see. Watches the way her gaze slows, and then stops, when there’s none to be found.

He slides his phone from his back pocket and unlocks it, thumbing open the most recent photo in his collection; he thinks, more than anything, that claiming the title of father gives him the right to show her off. “My daughter,” he tells her, and passes the screen into his mother’s suddenly shaking hands.

“She’s,” and she deliberates over the words. He’s sure she wasn’t expecting someone so close to fully grown. “How long?”

The answer doesn’t frighten him, not anymore. Like dying, he’s faced it too many times. “Fifteen years,” and she definitely wasn’t expecting that by the way she squeezes one hand against the choked out sob threatening to escape her mouth, and the other to all but thrust the phone back into his grip, far away from her. There’s perspective in dying, and very briefly he feels for her. He lost a mother, but she lost a child and a husband and a mother and grandchildren she didn’t even know were to come.

“Mami didn’t,” she breathes, slowly, through her teeth like she’s breathing through pain. “She never said.”

She wouldn’t, he doesn’t need to tell her. Bibio’s loyalties had been drawn firmly and unforgivingly in the sand around the wayward boys she’d snatched up in Stefania’s absence.

“And,” she probes further, desperate, hand over her heart like she’s keeping it caged – for whose protection, he isn’t sure. “And the witchhunter?” He knows she knows his name. Knows she knows that’s not who he is, who any of them are, anymore. He knows this like he knows she’d tried to get to him through Wendy, all those years ago, and hadn’t expected the way he’d shut her further out without even trying.

Cat pauses. Raises one eyebrow like a question mark, an expression he’s seen nearly every day across the faces he loves most. “You’ll have to be more specific,” he tells her coolly. “There’s quite a few of us.”

It’s all too easy, the way the words roll across his tongue like a declaration. Us, not them.

[2n2n]

well here's ch. 97 chat, unhinged and unorganized

Amusingly I've said so crudely to Bird before "I'm sure Teru's like, blasted someone's little casper the friendly ghost friend while children sob and beg him to stop" gfdlg;dfkg I can't believe it would get drawn so directly, I love it though....! isn't this what so many kaii are... just some children's funny little guy..... I love it.... this miserable world....!

Ah the funniest part of the new chapter is Teru trying to be the noble cuck asserting "ah, you want to do this cuz of yashiro and no. 7 (:" *trying to keep my... expectations and understanding of your motivations realistic, grounded... I am of course in the corner of your mind only, graciously, my sweet Kou*..... he tries to be humble boy, he knows there is a discrepancy between his obsession with Kou/Tiara and Kou's life being filled with other things (Kou is not deprived class, it is Teru who is isolated and lazer-focused!) but Kou parlaying back that he does like Teru, too…. giving this brocon a crumb, hehe. Teru really feels like he can't begin to ask for more than the barest of scraps…. this chapter has the most endearing Teru, really feeling for this poor animal, lol. I feel for how he can't impose himself upon Kou at all, how *dog with tail between legs* it is to ask for more....

I like Teru 'giving in' to involving Kou, I can really feel him having lost some battle of will, the desire to do his noble sacrificial duty endlessly without asking anything of anyone else… I like his attachment to Kou and Tiara and his desperation to receive their attention. Very pathetic little creature. I enjoy how little of the weight of it Kou perceives, and even Teru admitting to it doesn't have nearly the impact for Kou as it does for Teru. This is really Teru admitting to being a cold lizard person without concern for anybody but his loved ones, devoid of motivation or purpose or interest…. the AIDAIRO STAPLE!!! It's just like Hanako and Akane. It's simple a fashion of romance.

Kou seems to put everything he ever hears through a kind of 'normify it' filter, I don't know how else to put it… one can try to be so emotionally nuanced and vulnerable, admit to deeper emotional crimes below the surface, and he just won't engage with it. Its like he distills it. I think he 'expects' Teru to be a 'normal' person still, he has this… base idea of 'normal' and, I don't think Kou can yet grasp how far from that Teru is…. the facade is just so grossly effective on Kou. I think if Hanako heard this speech, he'd understand a dozen more layers to it, and understand what a grave and severe concession it is for Teru, and how lowly it is to finally seek crumbs, ask for company, share the burden he's BEEN shouldering alone. Whats the matter, being dutiful eternally not working for you? Thats funny, I'm 50 years in to my eternal toil but, whatever lol, it's cute you can't really do anything with resolution …… WEAKER BROCON. (and your little brother is much less precious than mine). Hanako really is the 'biggest dog' in terms of commitment and fortitude, I understand why he looks down on Kou and Mitsuba respectively in Picture Perfect. I think he'd roll his eyes at this Teru, too…… pussyyyyyy lol.

Teru being so weak to even Kou just calling him like, names or something is like, sooo funny compared against Amane who was likely being tied up and flung around the room by Tsukasa, bruised and battered daily and forgiving it again and again with a smile…. there is a reason our title character is Hanako, he is such the ultimate version of every virtue Iro writes. WHATS THE MATTER, WON'T SUFFER FOR YOUR BELOVED? DON'T WANT THEM TO BE ~MEAN TO YOU? NEED TO ALWAYS BE BEST FRIENDS AND SOFT? ohhh pansy lol stupid Minamoto…

big baby.....! Cute.

But isn't it funny to immediately go outside and see Mitsuba…. why do you always forget about any of this? How could learning to fire your musket at Hanako in case of emergency really be more forefront of your mind, than the person you're trying to SAVE, why do you think about exorcising before you think about rescue, as mental priority … always we just talk about smushing kaii so…. compulsively, with Kou. It's just some childhood dream he doesn't know how to let go of, even after so many exceptions. I get that he was drilled with propaganda, I just don't have to respect it. It's like his brain is weak and spongey and can't think for itself even this far in. You will STILL just grab your musket and be all rowdy ready to bangbang play cops and robbers for your cool brother. DUMB idiot. You deserve to have the emotional drop that is seeing MITSUBA, THE TRAGIC FIGURE. Don't you ever experience euphoria of being an exorcist ever again, your job SUCKS, this job is AWFUL. This isn't SPECIAL. Just a miserable job, one your bloodline can't escape. Your brother is as good as a slave here and you're itching to be enslaved too. WRONG response, wish you were trying to EXTRICATE Teru. Not JOIN him. You're going BACKWARDS!!!

I'm always pretty sad when Mitsuba is the one seeking out Kou first… he always is, he's the instigator between the two of them. So comical, isn't it? Other things always come first, for Kou… feel like Mitsuba is constantly left on read. Its like Kou's last message will be a declaration and then Mitsuba is still the one texting him first next week, just left staring at that chat window.

I dunno, I'm hoping Mitsuba ate Hakubo or something so awful LOL. This would be funny. I'm with Bird and hoping Tsukasa has fucked enough of the system up that we can exit the school. Even if not now I wish for eventually Hanako reading Nene's diary on her bed kicking his legs around. Wow what a little poet.... ♥

[lemlillianlemon]

*log 1, December 1st, 2023, log proctor: Director Tech. {{UPDATE}}*

-log start-

ERROR: IMAGE NOT FOUND

Name: Lewis Cardell Cardigan

Age: {unknown}

Height: 5'6" (167 cm)

Eyes: red

Hair: brown, curly

Glasses: thick frames, thick lenses

Notes: treat with caution, can and will bite, don't touch without asking, treat as a superior treat with respect, he has seen more than everyone at this damn branch. And for God's sake stop calling him "Lemon"!

Dr. Lewis is a shorter skinny man with curly brown hair, brown eyes, and glasses. He has more experience than I do in the field and has endless patience. He has horrible luck and is as flexible as Gumby. He has the wisdom of something immortal and the humor of a twelve year old. His mind is sup-

*end log*

**AUDIO RECORDING: START**

My file is missing most of its contents. Hi, my name is Lewis and I'm what you would call, a director, here at the USDPP. I started here as a simple intern, sharpening pencils, fetching coffee, organizing desks. The meaningless, tedious tasks. Everything changed when I was bringing coffee to a meeting where my bosses were talking about a talking toaster that insults whomever comes across it. Me being the moron I am, said something. I still remember the looks they gave me when I said: "Why don't you give him some food or clean out his crumb tray?". They all looked at me like I was crazy, and yet, they still tried it. From then on, if they had a problem they were stuck on, they would come to me and ask for my opinion on it. From an intern I became a junior researcher. After I was put onto a field team to hunt a werewolf, I was sent out into the middle of Alaska. Ironically it's my home state, yet, I've never been in this part. The werewolf we were hunting was a young boy. My supervisor said that if he didn't turn back or control himself, they would force him to. Now I don't know what they meant and I don't care. I wasn't going to let it happen anyways. When the boy started turning he ran through the woods our camp was at. The poor boy was scared and didn't know what was happening to him. When I saw the poor thing he was caught and hurt, so I did what anyone would do if a dog gets hurt. I approached him and gently helped him before ruffling his fur and loving on him. He turned back into a human after I kissed the tip of his nose like I would with any puppy. The poor boy couldn't have been any older than twelve and he was sobbing when he became human and he clung to me like I was his life line. The poor baby was freezing cold and scared out of his mind. He's my son now, his name is Petey. He's a sweetheart and I love him. That was six years ago, my puppy is now a fully grown wolf and now I'm mad about it because he's taller than I am. After I turned Petey human I was promoted to Senior Researcher. Four years later, A vampire was causing a bunch of problems. No one knew anything about this vampire, only where he would be. When we set up camp I found him digging through the medical supplies for blood bags. This vampire couldn't have been older than sixteen. I had to pick up the poor kid so he wouldn't hurt himself in an accident with all of the iron and silver around him. His name is Hugo and he's my other son now. Petey and Hugo are best friends. They do everything together. I became a director after an incident with time travel, the devil, and a golden fiddle. A long story short is that I beat the devil in a competition and the devil gave me his golden fiddle. My boys love it, they love to play songs on it. Today Lead Director Tech told me that I was giving an orientation to the new recruits. There's seven of them. To the normal world two are famous serial killers, one is a cop from Portland, one is an angel of the Lord, one is a time traveler, one is a british detective, and one is the british detective's impulse control. Their names are confidential but I assume you already know who they are yes? Good. The seven boys each have their own brand of talents, each talent is good for the department. It isn't the first time I've given this orientation, but I've had run-ins with this crowd. The two serial killers and the angel have tried to kill me before (I don't blame them, I was causing a bunch of trouble), the cop has tried to arrest me, the detective knows exactly who I am, the detectives impulse control knows who I am as well, and the time traveler is the reason why I had to beat the devil in that competition. I had to take a deep breath so I don't make things worse for myself more than they already are. "Hi, welcome to the United States Department of Paranormal Phenomenon. No we are not the SCP foundation but we are their sister department and we also have the same goal. You seven, already know me. But you would know me as Lewis, please, call me Lemon."

**AUDIO RECORDING: FINISHED**

You work for the United States Department of Paranormal Phenomena, where you deal with stuff ranging from a harmless talking toaster to world ending eldritch abominations. Today you have been tasked with giving an orientation class to the new recruits.

[smutteedreams]

ABYSMAL HEART (part 1)

Itachi x Reader

WARNINGS: sfw, angst, anxiety

a/n: i havent been very consistent with uploading fics, ik ik, and im sorry. im going through a terrible writer's block, among other shitty stuff and haven't been in the best frame of mind lately so whatever i am putting out isn't quite upto the mark but please bear with me

ALSO, requests are open but for a short time only since my finals are coming up soon

"It's getting quite late. Shouldn't you be heading home?"

Ino asks you as you flip through pages and pages of reports and proofread the drafts on your computer.

"Yeah I will, I just have a few proposals to write and then I'll be done."

"You have been working overtime a lot these past couple of months. Are you taking care of yourself?"

Working overtime is better than having to go back to an empty home.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I think your cab's here."

Ino gives you a light hug before heading off, her long blonde mane swishing at her waist. You keep on typing robotically for a few more hours, chug two or so more cups of mediocre coffee before you feel your neck and back begging for a break and realize that the inevitable is upon you as you pack up your stuff and make your way to the parking lot.

Lately, you've noticed that sometimes the drive back home triggers your anxiety- your furious tapping and scratching has left marks on the steering wheel.

"I wonder if he's asleep-no, I hope he's asleep", you muse. The traffic signals changed and only the raging horns and incoherent curses of fellow drivers break you out of your daze and you drive off.

Your home isn't empty per se. Its more so...lonely. As soon as you step inside, you can tell he's awake and groan internally. You kick off your shoes and walk to the fridge to grab a drink.

"Hey..", you try to get some sort of conversation going but only receive a nod acknowledging your presence in return.

You open the fridge and stand there, initially trying to decide what you want to quench your thirst but slowly getting lost in your thoughts.

"You shouldn't keep the fridge open for so long, the electricity bill is no joke."

"Yeah, I know..."

but this marriage is.

You plop down on the couch, Itachi's back facing you while you sip on the beer. He's typing away, forehead crinkling and stress lines getting deeper, working on god knows what.

"Boy all those graphs and numbers, it all looks so complicated."

"Yes but with patience and some research, its easy enough."

You look at the few feet distance between you and him that feel like a dimensionless void, one you cannot cross. Your body tingles and chills as the dim light bounces off of the shining metal band on your ring finger and you reminisce how your life is in dire contrast to all the emotions and notions it symbolizes. You want to reach him, stretch your hand and caress his hair, maybe pull it out of the loose ponytail. Maybe that's what you need to do. Maybe if you just show him a little more affection, he will stop being so distant, maybe-

"I'm leaving for a business trip tomorrow. Its important."

His cold voice stops your hand short of touching him.

"O-ok. How long will you be gone?"

"A month." The finality in his voice unnerves you more than you can comprehend.

"Did this just come up?" You ask, hoping he'll say yes.

"No. I've known about it for a few weeks."

That one last sentence is all it took to break your facade as you feel your heart shatter into a million pieces. You get up and walk away, sobbing and praying he doesn't see your tears. You turn the hallway leading to your room as you hear him call from the couch-

"Don't bother packing anything for me, I have already packed my-"

You slam the door shut before he can finish and bolt the lock. Your eyes land on a picture frame atop your desk- its a photograph of you and Itachi on your wedding day. You were smiling and blushing as he kissed your cheek. You remember the photographer calling you both soulmates.

You pick up the frame and the last crumbs of resilience in you dust away and your knees buck as your body falls limp on the floor. You wail your woes to the abysmal cracks in your heart, begging, pleading that he'll come for you.

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tag- @shestillbelievess

[recordmcqueen]

@apiice​ for context here was the original post but as promised i will elaborate now that i have slept and recovered some braincells and immediately sold them to boifang in exchange for serotonin (dopamine?)

so like as a multishipper it doesn’t take that much for me to ship something like even jsut the Concept of a pairing without any onscreen interaction is enough for me to go ‘omg they could have something’ but that’s all it is. the whole ship exists as an assumed or headcanonned entity in my head and while i have gotten super invested in entire ships solely based on what they ‘could have been’ or ‘would be if they were together’, there’s not necessarily anything in the canon material to indicate that.

if we go to the more popular ships, usually there’s at least some kind of interaction onscreen or some moments of ship fuel or crumbs which for the purpose of this rant i will call Fanservice. fanservice-wise we actually get a heckton of goboi and gofang and ill go so far as to say that yayi in its entirety exists as these ‘fanservice’ moments until m0nsta dares to develop yaya and ying further as characters. of course ramenzo is 100% fanservice based because neither ramen nor kaizo nor anyone whos known them for that matter has ever actually addressed anything to suggest they were Actually a thing.

now is where the linked essay comes in because boifang isn’t just superficially the two most popular separate male characters in the show (i dont know why i included male i dont think the fandom cares much about the girls at all) being fujoshi slammed together (i mean ok yeah there are fujoshis but this essay is kind of the opposite of that perspective) for the sake of gay. its two characters who have CANONICALLY undergone character development in relation to each other in a significant arc ONSCREEN. yes bbb explored his emotions and yes fang stood up to his brother but fang actually went from isolating himself from people to actively trying to be bbb’s friend and bbb went from gatekeeping him from his friend group to literally sobbing when fang betrayed him.

whether monsta wants to acknowledge it or not after all this time, they very much did put boi and fang in a high stakes situation where they had a choice between being together or apart and they very much confirmed that they would go thru torture for each other like these two would die for each other whats not clicking 

so you have this very deep connection that they both have come to share and like you cant just write that development by accident it is Consistent through s3 and while it does get generally forgotten by galaxy (which is inherently a soft reboot) it’s definitely still there when we get scenes like ‘pergi je boboiboy’ (god my heart) so like someone on the monsta writing team really went and did that.

but at the same time someone on the monsta writing team ALSO decided that we are gonna get scenes like tHIS

and this

which are just blatant ship fuel for anyone who has ever shipped a ship??? this isn’t even all of them but im just here scratchign my head like

monsta. u did this. u did this and then u get mad at us for pointing it out. wHAT GIVESSSSS

[wh6res]

chase — renhyuck

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

tw bullying, violence, swearing, yandere themes, possessive themes, blood, weapons (a gun, a grenade), implied noncon, implied kidnapping, mentions of stalking

disc i dont condone this behavior

wc 5k

‏‏‎ ‎

29 hours before the annual purge

“hold her down—i said hold her down, idiot!”

putting everything into account, they saw you more like a glorified chew toy than an actual person. 

they ruined your life simultaneously and it's ironic, that despite being sworn rivals, it seems you were their neutral ground—after one has had their own fun, you’re passed on to the other person so they can deliver that final, shattering blow that weakens your resolve. 

it was meant to be that way because it had always been that way. you’re the unlucky loser that ignited the worse sides of both lee haechan and huang renjun. 

they’re like oil and water; they don’t mix but with you, they found a compromise. stealing your lunch money, trashing your homework, quickies in between lectures. all of these should’ve been enough to give them a good power trip. but they’ve developed a hunger so severe that these past instances are but mere crumbs that hardly satisfy their cravings. 

it was beyond exhausting, being caught in between two headstrong people that were unwilling to back down at any cost. their aggression and anger towards each other directly being channeled onto you as they shove and swing you around like some ragdoll. 

you weren’t a bunch of kids, you knew that. you don’t cry and sob and say that it’s unfair, you hold your chin high and walk up to the guidance counselor’s office to report them for bullying. but you never should’ve underestimated the power of money and their respective families’ broad network of connections. 

without a doubt, the empty promises for justice is what broke your heart the most. it breaks with every bruise, every tight grip, and every nasty name the people willingly turned a blind eye to. 

it’s sad but it was a reality you taught yourself to get used to—the meek mouse learning how to evade the cats hot on her trail. 

but you weren’t as lucky today. 

“i am holding her down.”

a pair of lips comes in contact with your neck. its feathery and light at first until its biting down to mark you with his teeth. not too strong to draw blood, but enough to dent the surface of the skin. 

haechan has an oral fixation. biting his lips. his nails. whenever you see him, he always has a lollipop on his mouth and if he doesn’t, he’s painting hickeys across your skin. you hated his oral fixation, especially when makeup and clothes proved useless to hide the marks he gives you. 

“why run?” renjun asks you, slipping his fingers underneath your skirt as he kneels. “you know you have nowhere to hide in the campus.”

haechan snorts. “or anywhere else.”

it’s always the same thing. you go to school. you sit in your first period for thirty minutes until one of them shows up. then the other boy probably felt a gut instinct that he’s missing out on the fun. last time, it was an empty classroom in the abandoned left wing. 

they like taking you there all the time, it was always dark, the blinds pulled and shut tight. not to mention it was incredibly dusty. but both male knew you’re afraid of the dark, exactly why it’s their favorite spot. but empty classrooms and supply closets are close seconds, too. 

“you’re so pathetic. useless—only know how to whine like a fucking pornstar,” he quickly comments, feeling you arch against him when renjun’s tongue comes in contact with the pearl between your legs. “my cumdump.”

you feel a sharp exhale against your lower lips. you shudder. renjun clicks his tongue in annoyance. “can you shut up? you’re making my dick soft with all that talking.”

but haechan had ignored him completely, blissfully ignorant of the petite boy’s frustrations as he angles your head up to crash his lips onto yours. when he slightly pulls away, still playfully nibbling your bottom lip, what he said next made your blood run cold. 

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6 hours before the annual purge

the price to pay for protection started rising again this year and you, much like your neighbors, are in a sense of turmoil. jamming the doors with cabinets and nailing your windows with wood is hardly enough to satisfy the gnawing feeling in your stomach. much less when you didn’t even have a weapon to wield other than a wooden bat and a cheap taser you bought on sale. 

“its not like anyone will be coming for you, right?” the little girl says, touching the randomest stuff in your apartment. her name was naeun and she never really liked pink and sparkles like most girls her age, maybe that’s why she took a liking to you. 

her mom works a 9 to 5 and her grandma stays with her on occasion. but the old lady loved to sleep, naeun said, so she gets the chance to slip out and come knocking on your door. you tried shooing her out of your apartment countless times but she’s stubborn. 

she reminds you of yourself. 

“well, i hope no one does.” you joked, putting on a turtleneck. 

naeun’s mom doesn't like you as much as it is, but if you yourself let naeun see the bruises on your skin? you’d hate yourself forever. “now, come on little missy, go back to your grandma. i need to head over to the bank to settle my protection fees.”

“but you just said no one is going to come for you anyway,” she whines stomping towards the door. “mom already settled ours yesterday becase grammy forced her to. mommy said it was just a waste of money because who’d bother to rob us anyway?”

a memory flashes in your head. two boys who’ve sandwiched you between them in the dark of a fucking supply closet at uni. wandering hands, labored whispers, curt giggles, one pair of lips trailing up your neck while the other up your inner thigh.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

you needed that protection. that was no slip up because haechan never makes mistakes. if he wanted to make you feel like some animal on the run after catching a whiff of trouble then he sure is doing a good job. 

“hey! i think you just went someplace else there,” naeun says, nudging your side irritably to get your attention again. 

you try forcing out a chuckle but it doesn't work, still deeply peeved by a memory from last week replaying vividly in your mind. if they ever mean what they meant (which you know they do) then this is now more than just trying to get through the night—you have to survive, prepare, and pray neither of them finds you. 

“i think your grandma’s right in doing what she did, naeun. with humans, you’ll never know.”

and just like that naeun went silent, bid you goodbye, and disappeared behind the apartment door.

the bank was a quick walk from your apartment. you hardly broke much sweat and you even managed to stop by the grocery store to make some last-minute runs. the store’s nearly empty, deserted of any human being as the seconds slowly but surely ticked away. it was only when you walked past aisle seven did you pause, the hairs on your back standing as a slow chill crawled up your spine. 

you look over your shoulder. 

no one’s there. 

you swallow, quickly looking down your watch to check the time as you made your way to counter. 3 hours before the annual purge. you needed to get your ass moving. you just need to grab one more thing and you’ll best be on your way. 

you practically ran towards the dairy section and just as you spin around, strawberry ice cream pint in your hands, you jump as he appears before you in thin air and you drop whatever you’re holding. 

“such a skittish little kitten,” renjun clicks his tongue, bending down to retrieve the ice cream on the floor. “here you go.”

you couldn’t even stare at him in the eye. your hands shook but it wasn’t because of the cold desert. now you get it. it’s his eyes you felt on you earlier, ever intrusive and piercing as he watched you from afar. was he stalking you?

“i didn’t quite catch a thank you, kitty.”

how foolish of you to think he’ll let you duck away without at least speaking to him, hm?

“thank… thank you?”

renjun grins, satisfied with your stuttering as he raises a hand to ruffle your hair—he ignores how you flinched away from him—before walking away with one hand in his coat pocket, whistling an eerie tune that can haunt your nightmares way after purge night. 

“see you later, kitten.”

if it wasn’t the whistling that set you on edge or that clear promise of your doom—it’s the pack of zip ties and duct tape in his hands.‏‏‎ ‎

you were watching a rerun of your favorite morning reality tv when it cuts to the dreaded blue screen showing the flag of korea. 

this is not a test.

this is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the south korean government. 

weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. all other weapons are restricted. 

commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. 

police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 am when the purge concludes. 

may god be with you all.

you’ll never get used to the blaring siren that echoes through the empty streets. you can feel the floor vibrating and it travels throughout your whole body as the dread starts sinking deep into your skin. 

you’ve already double checked all your windows and the front door. activated the security system provided by the bank. and you’ve also already charged your taser and have hammered down nails into your wooden bat. fine. if they wanted to scare and bully you into a panicked frenzy, it did its job but fuck no will you go down without a fight. 

you shut all the lights, the apartment basking in the moonlight glow brought by the translucent curtains as you make your way to your bedroom, nearest the emergency exit just in case they barge through your front door by force. 

at first, nothing happened. it was peaceful. tranquil. you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. both inside and outside. you were almost tempted to cover your mouth in case you were breathing too loud. 

it’s silent. until it wasn’t.

your phone rings. it’s there, vibrating on your desk and you make long strides until you’re face to face with a set of numbers on your screen. an unregistered contact. there’s a debate inside your head whether to answer it or not, fingers hovering between the red and green button… until it eventually lands on the green. 

you put it up to your ear, hands sweating as you wait with bated breath for the person on the other end to speak. 

“kitten?”

it’s renjun. you don’t answer. 

“i can hear you breathing, you know. i can’t wait to see you. we’ll have so much fun together. it’s sad that i have to share with that imbecile but better half of you than nothing of you, right?” he laughs and you feel a rush of anger surge through you. yet, you don’t bother to give him the satisfaction of a reply. 

“i can see you’re angry, little kitty. while it’s cute and hot… don’t be. turn that frown upside down for me, wouldn’t you?”

but the blinds are drawn he couldn’t have seen you—

“you’re never going to get me, you fucking bastard. i’m not scared of you,” you sure do hope he can’t hear the tremble in your voice. “whatever you plan on doing to me, you’ll fail.”

you walk back slowly, eyes darting everywhere to look for a camera they could’ve installed in your room. they have connections and the money to do it so you won’t put it past them. 

“oh, my stupid kitty. how can we fail when we already got a head start?” 

the floorboard behind you creaks and before you could turn around, someone slams your head against the desk. you hear a crack, whether it’s the screen of your laptop or your nose, you couldn’t tell. the person is agile and silent as he maneuvers you to the ground and seals your lips with duct tape. 

“after all,” haechan giggles. “you can’t lock out what’s already inside, kitten.”

your phone lands somewhere near your head. renjun has already dropped the call and the line goes silent. 

squirming, you glared at the person on top of you. is this how you’re gonna go? you can’t deny, even you yourself find this pathetic. the security alarms you bought, the nail-studded bat, your taser, everything was all for naught? just because you didn’t check under your bed to make sure no one was there?

how long was haechan waiting? when naeun was still here? when you went out to buy groceries? 

you thought it would be fear you’ll be feeling as you get caught but the emotion isn’t present at all. instead, it’s white hot anger that overrides your system and forces you to act without thinking—and it just fucking saved your life. 

haechan always saw you as a vulnerable, sad little human being who couldn’t do shit on her own. it’s easy to underestimate you and that’s his first mistake. 

the second is rather foolish—not tying your legs up first. it’s all too easy to slam your forehead against his before jerking your leg up to knee him in the balls. 

you can see the anger in his eyes clear as day as you made a run for it to the kitchen, having come up with another escape plan—because surely if you went down the emergency exit, haechan would’ve caught up easily with those long legs after he’s recovered from your assault. 

your nose was probably bleeding and your head is in the early stages of a full blown migraine, at least you were able to function enough to wobble your way towards the trash chute situated near the stove. you had cursed that chute the first day you moved in here (who would put a trash chute next to a fucking stove) but the day has come for you to thank the gods that you have that in your house. 

going for a swim in all your neighbors’ trash is disgusting and unplanned (plus, falling down maybe six floors to your doom) but you’ll choose that over lee haechan and huang renjun any day. 

“don’t you dare fucking think about it!”

you flashed him the middle finger to tick him off. a petty retaliation for all the bullshit he and renjun put you through but it felt good nonetheless. 

“catch me if you fuckers can.”

and you were falling down the trash chute.‏‏‎ ‎

okay, yeah—maybe you should’ve thought it through before hurling yourself six floors down only for some half-filled dumpster to catch you but at least you’re still alive, right? alive and free, mind you. but you don’t have time to celebrate. 

it smelled awful and you swear your knees and elbows are bruised but you scramble to climb out and run away as fast as you can. 

it was only haechan inside your apartment. no sign of renjun but he did see you somehow and you have no doubt it was a camera inside that room. you didn’t have much time to ponder for how long they were installed in your room. it’s the least of your worries at the moment.

you’re outside. 

during purge night.

even if you did manage to escape it felt more like a win than a lose, forced out of your own apartment in nothing but shorts and a shirt—heck, you don’t even have shoes on!—it felt like they won. again. 

if you’re not going to die in the hands of some other wacko, you’ll die of hypothermia. how nice. 

you didn’t know where you were running to, the only thing you knew was you need to get the hell out of this neighborhood as fast as you can. you didn’t want to run in alleyways and risk getting stabbed for fun. maybe the sewer system… oh, right. you don’t have your phone on you and it’ll probably be pitch black down there. 

you really, truly, genuinely didn’t want to run so out in the open but it was the best you can impulsively come up with. 

when you feel like you’ve put a reasonable distance between you and the apartment, you stop, hands resting flat on your knees as you crouch to catch a breath. just as quick the adrenaline appeared as fast as it had disappeared. you feel the weight and tension crushing your legs, not to mention you’re really starting to feel that headache settle after headbutting haechan. 

you almost collapse against the brick wall. 

the last person you ever thought you’ll see jumps out from the corner of the alleyway and you almost broke their nose. 

until you saw who it was. 

“NAEUN?”

their apartment got raided, some buffy sickos who they had the misfortune of breaking into their house to purge. luckily they got away, but after getting attacked on the streets, naeun got separated after she ran for her life just like you did. you can’t help but feel sorry for the little girl, who experienced the full effect of this godforsaken holiday. 

this is bad. you can’t leave her but it’s tough enough to have to fend for yourself. you’re not so sure whether you can protect another human being but you’ll have to try. 

“did your mom or grandma tell you anything? anything at all?” you ask, crouching to her eye level. “you said your mom knew the way… where? what do you mean?”

“mom said they’re providing refuge on the other side of town but it’s a 30-minute drive. walking would take longer.”

shit. you didn’t want to risk it. you don’t have a car and you’d rather die right here right now than walk another step out in the streets—

“who’s ‘they’?”

“i don’t… i don’t know. she didn’t say.”

you licked your chapped lips. you can’t trust what she’s saying, not when you didn’t even know these people. it’s too risky, not to mention you’re already running from not one, but two people.

naeun sits next to you against the bricked wall of the alley, looking down at her lap. “i’m scared,” she admits. you hear a tremble in her voice. “are mom and grammy de—”

“no,” you cut her off, pulling her tiny body against yours. when you feel her fists clutching your jacket, you swear to protect this girl with your life. “no, they’re not. i’m sure they’re heading there now to the refuge center just like we are.”

her head pokes out, looking up towards you. “we’re going? i thought you didn’t want to.”

you shake your head, wiping her tears. “well, it’s the one way for you to meet your mom and grammy, right?”‏‏‎ ‎

walking down the streets during purge night—man, this has got to be the most ballsy thing you’ve ever done after that one time you spat at renjun in the eye. you managed to find a litter of bodies way into thirty minutes of walking and you nearly sent naeun flying onto the asphalt with how hard you pushed her back. she couldn’t see this mess, you’d be damned to allow a nine-year-old walk right into psychological trauma. 

you pocket a gun—you didn’t have enough courage to fight with a knife. you wiped the blood off using your shirt before shoving them down onto the garter of your shorts. you didn’t bother to take their shoes, none of them would’ve fit you anyway and it’ll just slow you down. 

“hey, are you alright? is that blood—”

“it’s not mine, naeun. come on, let’s get moving.”

for two hours you walked towards this mysterious refuge center on the other side of town and both you and naeun managed to evade death three times. 

the first attack: a group of high schoolers with their uniforms on. there were three of them, about your height, and while you weren’t responsible for the blood on your shirt, you’re not so sure about their lot. they looked crazy, excited even, but sloppy in the way they flung their knives and bats around. their first purge, you assumed, so it was fairly easy to take them down. a bullet to the head worked like a charm. naeun didn’t say anything when you urged her out of her hiding place to flee the scene. three bullets left. 

the second attack: it was a surprise, one that got you stabbed in the shin of your right leg. it was a drunkard with a knife, you could smell him as you walked past by his slumped form in the sidewalk. he wasn’t moving, so you thought he was dead and it was poor judgement on your part. it’s pathetic getting injured this way, you thought, but at least it was you who faced the consequences and not naeun. two bullets left.

the third attack: two men but deadlier than the girls and the drunk. you didn’t get to reason out with either of them, not when they drove their cadillac at 140 miles per hour and nearly ran you over. a chill crept up your spine when you saw the bloody, naked women strapped down onto the hood. victims. you didn’t engage in any form of combat, it’s impossible, so you took naeun in your arms and ran straight to the back alleys. number of bullets remain the same.

three lucky strikes. 

three times you’ve cheated death. 

but time is up and your luck has run out. 

“beating up a girl? what a coward, if you ask me,” you say, spitting out a tooth after someone kneed you in the face. you were in no position to say such things when they’ve got you busted up and bloody, left eye swollen after one hard punch. 

naeun is nowhere to be seen. 

good. 

who knows what these assholes could’ve done to her. you told her to run so she better fucking run and make sure she lives through this nightmare. 

another kick flies to your ribs and you lie sprawled on the dirty pavement of an alleyway—what an uncool way to die but at least you’ll die with a clear conscience. 

you passed by city hall a few minutes ago. surely, the refuge center is not too far from there. naeun will make it safe. she’ll make it. 

“what’s that look on her face? is she dead?”

another one scoffs. “well… if they’re after her then she’s as good as dead.”

you blacked out. ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

you hate the scent of disinfectant. it crawls up your nose and you hate how the stench is so strong you can taste it on your tongue. this isn’t heaven, not when you know you’re better off burning in hellfire.

unless you weren’t dead—your eyes shoot open, sitting up in haste as you clutch the thin blanket. 

rows upon rows of the same cot you were lying on greets you. people injured, some standing, some sitting. there were people treating them, too, but they were in normal clothes so this can’t be a hospital. in fact, it looked like you’re in some warehouse, stacks of metal crates sealing off all entrances. 

“it’s the refuge,” you whisper. 

“you’re awake!” before you could even turn around, a body launches itself onto you and nearly makes the cot collapse. judging by the small frame and the pitchy voice—

“naeun, be careful!” her mother hisses but the girl in between your arms couldn’t care less. if she’d been an adult, she’d be squeezing the life out of you. when she pulls you closer, your healing ribs made a strike of pain surge through you. 

you groan, bowing in the pain. distantly, you can hear the mother and daughter fighting and it was a banter you’ve never experienced with your own mom. it nearly made you tear up from the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling but all else disappears when a person tenderly grips your shoulder. 

“thank you for taking care of my granddaughter.” the old lady was smiling appreciatively as she stared at you. 

that was it. it could’ve been the happy ending to a gruesome and bloody storyline—it should’ve been, family of three reunites again and that was all thanks to you, right?

but even heroes have their own bad endings. 

you heard the ticking of the grenade only seconds before it detonates. the other refugees didn’t even have the time to take cover as some closest to the sealed doors were sent flying so far back they crashed into the row of crates behind you. 

you were severely injured, limping, ribs broken, and you only had one good eye to rely on—yet the first thing you thought of was protecting naeun. maybe the midget had a way of worming herself into your heart. but before you even push yourself off the cot, a figure emerges from the smoke. 

petite and harmless, pretty as the tips of his hair grazed porcelain cheekbones. renjun’s eyes are as cold and calculating as can be and it’s the only thing that terrifies you to no end. when he opens his mouth, anger is hidden well underneath that calm tone. 

“i’ll give you one minute to come here willingly.”

there’s no room for bargain, he needn’t when he knows you have absolutely nothing to offer him but yourself. he doesn’t finish his sentence but he trusts you’re smart enough to figure out the silent threat—come, or he’ll turn this place into a fucking bloodbath. 

cornered and weak, defenseless. weird how they have a fixation for calling you ‘kitty’ when they’re the cats in this chase. 

“naeun,” you whisper, trying to crane your neck to look for her in the filth of rocks and debris. please don’t be hurt.

you freeze when you feel a barrel pointing at your head. it was only there for seconds, haechan probably doesn’t have the guts to hurt you in any way permanently (unless it’s inflicted with his own hands and not through some other medium). 

“ah, look. now we have matching black eyes,” he giggles like a madman, craning your neck up and the leather in his globes brings discomfort to your skin. 

you see the way the other refugees looked at you—scum, dirt on their feet that brought about trouble in their lives. they were already badly hurt as it is and now, this happened? you don’t blame them. 

not one man tried to stand up for you as haechan hauls you up and throws you down on renjun’s feet. your ribs were screaming and you’re cold and so, so afraid. with shaky fingers, you gestured towards the crowd. “just... please, don’t hurt them. they don’t have anything to do with this.”

renjun coos. such a cruel smirk for a pretty face. “aw, such an angel my darling is. always thinking of others instead of her own safety. funny because i don’t think you’ve ever done such a thing for me and haechan, though. i wonder why...”

the latter digs his heel in your injured legs and you scream as black starts to surround the corners of your vision. you tried to crane your neck back, pleading eyes wanting to look at the assaulter but renjun’s calloused hand is gripping your chin too tight.

“should we make a bargain, kitten?”

you stare deep into renjun’s eyes. he knows you don’t have anything left, he can see it in your glassy eyes, too wide and vulnerable. he’s doing this all for show, trying to make you even more desperate and self-aware of your eventual demise.

and you thought haechan was the only cunning one.

“what… what bargain?"

renjun practically gleams in pride. “i’ll let everyone walk free—even your precious little naeun—that’s her name, right? the little girl you’ve been protecting the whole night?—we’ll let her and everyone in this building walk away unharmed. that’s my bargain. you know how those work, right? now, you need to give me something i want.”

forcing you to offer yourself up to them.

what a brutal way to crush your pride.

choice wasn’t an option. if you don’t oblige and choose to run away on your own, they’ll kill them and still hunt you down. you gotta say, it was a tempting bargain that appealed to the sense of heroics in your heart. naturally, you have to choose where there is less blood shed. and as renjun lets go of your chin and lets you look over your shoulder to meet little naeun’s eyes, how she sobbed against her mother’s arms and shook her head and screamed…

“hurry, kitten. i don’t like to be kept waiting.”

you know what needs to be done.

“me. i’ll give you… me.”‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎

they stood playing a game of pool in the dead of night. it’s peaceful inside the estate while the city beyond rampaged and burned. they achieved their goal, had finally seen an end to a plan that had been set in motion for years. they’ve succeeded and the broken woman lying on the bed meters from the pool table is proof of their victory. 

“don’t you just love it when an elaborate plan works like clockwork, injun?” he asks, voice like trickling honey as he hits number 9 with the cue ball. 

the other, more petite male, rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. “oh, please, people like us always triumph, donghyuck. it’s nothing new. although i am surprised that little girl and her so-called “family” played along so well. almost had me fooled.”

“i agree. it's such a shame they had to go.”

‎

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[dreamii-yume]

Did you say birthday crumbs? 😌😌😌

I saw the cradle in his bday card and immediately thought. Lilia likes babies. He wants babies. MC can give him a baby... Whether she likes to or not.

It's his birthday! Why don't she fulfill his wish, please?

Yume may be very late for Daddy Lilia’s birthday, but there are never truly a time where we can be “late��� for hornii. (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀)

“You would be a great mother. I’m sure of it.”

Lilia had randomly told you that one day as what you initially thought as a strange way of breaking the silence. You didn’t think too much of it, there were more things that the old fae had said that left you speechless after all. You laughed at it and took it as a compliment instead, flattered even. He was truly a man full of surprises, you naively thought that day. You didn’t even notice that glint of mischief in his eyes, a sign that may or may not just be some childish intuition, but he was dead serious.

...You know, thinking back, you should’ve noticed all the signs while it was still there, harmless and tamed. You did not understand what he really meant by it, but you accepted it anyway, since you genuinely thought that he meant no ill will. It was most women’s dream to become a good mother after all and you just happen to be very good at taking care of kids. So, for this talent to be recognized by someone older and more experience than you in raising kids, it made you happy. But ever since that day, Lilia started acting strange towards you.

...For some reason, every time you meet up with him, coincidentally or not, it was always your stomach that he’s most especially delicate to. During one of his surprise acts of affection, his hands would always snake down across your tummy, caressing them through your shirt. Whenever he’ll take the opportunity of resting his head down on your lap, you’ll find him eyeing your stomach with a loving look in his eyes, almost as if he’s waiting for something. Even times when you’ll suddenly find him in your bed the next morning, leaning his ear on it like there’s even something to hear on the other side. When you get scratches and wounds just near your waist line, Lilia would freak out and patched you up as fast as possible, whispering something about how upset he is for something to damage your skin on this specific spot.

You weren’t one to judge people, Lilia was a man full of surprises after all. It wouldn’t be too strange if he has some kind of stomach fetish of some sort. Even though you knew that this man was a lot older than what you already thought, Lilia knows best on how to use his appearance as weapon and mean to get out of the situation. He’s so childish and mischievous, kinda like how a typical young boy would act, and to you, who’s weak against the affections of a child, it was a blade that cuts you deep. It bothered you for a bit, but eventually got used to it, letting him do what he wants.

“Eh? Lilia-senpai, you have kids?”

“You can call them that, but they’re not my own.”

Eventually, you started catching on his true intentions bit by bit and they were surprisingly very wholesome...At first, at the very least. He was very careful of not naming the identity of the children that he took care of, but being able to hear him fondly remembering his moments with them, you came to understand him a bit more. You didn’t want to assume to much to a life that you’re not very familiar with, but a simple thought came into your mind.

Perhaps, Lilia was simply...lonely.

He is fond of children, and had claimed to raise some until they could walk in their own out in the outside world. His bond and love for them was undoubtedly absolute, but as he said, his relation to them was not something that he could call his own. Perhaps Lilia was not interested in your abdominal region alone, but instead of the womb that can bare those children. Thinking that, you almost considered all his actions justified, not that you didn’t before, but at least you have some sort of context behind it. Lilia said that you were going to be a great mother someday, but with these thoughts in your head, you just can’t help but think that it’s a compliment that best suit him instead.

...That’s what you kept thinking as he one day grabbed you by the hand, leading you in the bounds of his room. His hands were so smooth, moving across your arms, legs, and back, giving you goosebumbs along the way. Of course, his last destination was on your stomach, going underneath your shirt and feeling warmness of it all. He nibbles on your neck like a little mouse, but with one wrong move, his fangs could absolutely pierce your flesh open. Charmed by his hypnotic touch, you reaction didn’t quite line in with your rationality as Lilia pulled you by your chin and slammed his lips against yours.

With his tongue playing inside your cavern, his saliva felt as if it was laced with natural aphrodisiac, rendering you immobile. You were surprised, but got you distracted enough to not be able to notice your clothes slowly being stripped away. Chuckling, Lilia couldn’t help but find yo oh-so adorable, having to completely wrap you around his fingers

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

“P...Please...I-I’m so full...” You sobbed as you covered your face in embarrassement, still in disbelief that something like this is happening to you. “Pull out...! Please, I c-can’t take any more...!”

Flinching as his fingers traced over the small bulge in your stomach, filled with the seed that can penetrate the depths of your flower so easily. “Not yet, Love. Just a little more.” He whispered, eyes half-lidded and seemingly drunk with both lust and pleasure. “We’ll have to make sure that you get the most of it in.”

A sharp, burning pain spread from your lower region as he pushed himself in your cunt deeper. “Aagh!” You squeaked as you instinctively grabbed the sheets and grit your teeth. Despite his best attempt of stuffing your hole with his own cock, his overwhelming cum had still managed to seep out through the gaps and stains the bed. Lilia hummed in disappointment, before scooping some in his fingers.

“Aw...What a waste.” He sighed, coming into terms that your human body just doesn’t have enough capacity to hold truck-load of a fae’s love juice. You also hoped that he had come to understand that yourbody is practically giving out on you. You’re exhausted, after being relentlessly fucked for hours, you just wanted to let your heavy eyelids fall but every time you do so, Lilia would use pain to wake you up. However, he took one look at the white substance sticking to his fingers and he proceeded to glance back at you, the look in his eye was not something you appreciated. Unfortunately, you were not given enough time to ponder over what went through his head as he suddenly shoved those cum-filled fingers inside your mouth.

He pinches you tongue, smearing the flavor of his love juice on your taste buds with a sadistic smirk on his face. “...Guess we’ll just have to improvise, yeah~?” He playfully said, as your mouth quavered whilst forcefully tasting his salty juices. You whined at his actions, but Lilia sighed heavenly from just your horrified and tearful expression combined. “Aah...What a good girl...I knew you were the perfect fit for me~!”

To your dismay, he began to move again, motivated to ruin your body both inside and outside once more than it already is. He pulled his fingers out of you, before immediately cupping your cheeks obsessively. “Those eyes...Oh, how I love those eyes.” Lilia said and in an instinct, you closed them as a force of habit when he began to move his hips, dragging your battered walls along. “...The eventual eyes of a dedicated mother, a loving wife.”

“Even after all this time, your eyes haven’t died yet. How wonderful...” You cried as you felt the disruption straight into your womb, toes clenching as you weakly gripped onto him. “This is exactly why...”

“...You would be a great mother, Darling...” Lilia told you once again, reminiscent of his former words but now carries a heavy burden on you. His eyes glows red, learning closer to your lips to give you yet another painful, yet passionate kiss. “...And just the perfect, loving wife that I dreamt of.”

Since I was late, this doesn’t seem to have anything related to Lilia’s birthday at all (*´Д｀*) pls im sorry my head is long been drained but regardless, Yume’s still going to put this in the Birthday Crumbs watch me break my own rules lol

Yume’s Resolution is to get a driver’s license and be better at it, and write sinfics faster. (*´꒳`*) What’s yours, Darlings?

[flippingyouoff]

5,17,19 for the Ask game 💖

5 [Did you watch the show first or find the fandom first?]

The show has literally just always been a constant part of American Culture growing up and my Mother was very lenient with me and let me do whatever I want so South Park was one of many crude shows with bad words I wasn't allowed to repeat in public. I found the fandom and it's 'surprising' themes as a teenager and was traumatized first by a cutesy askblog with a full romantic Kyman arc and then later on by a MAP with a anime Stan Marsh icon. So I was horrified by the concept until like a year ago when I decided to embrace cringe for self care reasons.

17 [What’s your favorite little detail about your favorite character? Is there a scene with them that you especially love?]

I take every little nugget and crumb of Kenny doing literally anything at any time in any context and I pinch it all together in my fingers and I cradle it against my bosom and sob. So obviously any time he really gets to spotlight but my most favorite moments are probably the little things, like him audibly thinking to himself that it's so stupid for him to be helping his friends get a video game he can't even play, or dancing enthusiastically at annoying music everyone else hates. Kenny is, so so special my little baby boy my baby don't look at me.

19 [What’s something about this fandom that you particularly love?]

We really are all just out here transforming the characters from the overdone bad satire Comedy Central show and molding these characters into likable characters through the sheer force of us pounding every cherrypicked trait of theirs from 25+ years of vague social commentary jokes and then sprinkling them with our own little traumas based on which ones parents we're triggered by. The absolute amount of self indulgent mental illness is so freeing. You're damn right I know your characters better than you do Trey Parker. Sue me and make an episode about it.

[ohhipstaplease]

Angst number 24🥺

Angst # 24 “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Canon Compliant | One-shot | Angst With A Happy Ending | T+ | Ao3

Drabble List

Her heart was in her throat since the moment Sai had delivered the news. 

“We can’t seem to locate him, Hinata.”

Naruto had always prepared her for this moment, the inevitable one that always seemed to cloud over them. He had left her a list of numbers to call, and bills that would have to be paid. The key to their old apartment, where they still stored some of their things. And a box of mementos, ones that he’d want her to pass on to their children. She’d always side-glance the desk where he’d keep all of this, praying that she’d never actually had to open the drawer that held all of the things she’d need in case of an emergency.

“I love you,” He had whispered the day he had left, kissing her gently as he wrapped his arms around her once more. He had told her not to get up from bed, he had already fed their son and she needed her to rest now that she was with child again.

She didn’t want to listen, but exhaustion kept her from fighting him. Instead, she breathed him in as he protectively placed a hand on her rounded stomach. He whispered sweet nothings to their unborn child, kissing her belly for good measure. It made her heart flutter as she watched him, knowing that another child meant another chance for her husband to be a loving father once again. 

“Hinata?”

Her eyes fluttered open and met his once again, “Yes?”

“You know what to do if something happens, right?”

Her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought, but she pretended like she was fine. Worrying him right before he took off wouldn’t help anyone. 

“Yes. But nothing will, Naruto-Kun. You’ll come home safely to us like you always do.”

A ninja’s life was tenuous, short-lived. The young couple understood that, they did. But Naruto...he was the exception to the rule. After everything he had lived through, all the battles he had won, Hinata believed him to be unbreakable, unbeatable. Sometimes she had even wondered if he was even human.

But then something like this happened and it led Hinata to question everything she had ever believed.

“Hinata, did you hear me?” Sai asked, worriedly. He led her to a chair in the couple’s kitchen and had her sit down, worried that she might faint.

“W-what do you mean you can’t locate him?” 

She looked over her shoulder at their sleeping son on the couch, the spitting image of his father. Her hand protectively covered her growing bump, almost as if sheltering their unborn child from hearing what was being said.

“He’s been missing for more than a couple of hours now. We’ve sent out our best team to find him, Hinata...” Sai clasped her shoulder, trying to reassure her. 

Still, nothing would ground her. She felt as if her soul had left her body. If it hadn’t been for Boruto asking why she was crying, she probably wouldn’t have even remembered she had two other lives to care for.

She didn’t have time to sit around and be sad, she was a mother first now. She knew that, understood that she and Naruto now came second. But still, she couldn’t bear to get up from bed.

“I-I’m okay, baby,” She tried, “Your sibling was kicking all night and wouldn’t let me sleep.”

“Is that why you’re crying?” 

Her son jumped up onto their bed and gently patted her belly, “Hey you, you’re making mama cry. Stop moving around in there!”

Hinata couldn’t help but smile through her tears, grasping her son and cuddling him to her chest. 

Yes, she and Naruto had the talk many times. What would happen if he died on a mission or if she passed away during childbirth. They weren’t easy things to discuss, no, they both would end up in tears, desperately grasping each other and hoping they’d never have to know what life was like without the other. 

She had memorized every line on his face by now, every crinkle by his eyes when he laughed. She had always tried to drink in every detail of her life with him and their children, never for a second taking it for granted.

So she didn’t understand why, now when it counted, she couldn’t seem to picture Naruto’s laughing face. 

“When is daddy coming back?”

Hinata stifled a sob and looked down at her son, “Soon, baby. He got a little lost on the way back home.”

“Oh, well...next time let’s draw him a map.”

She nodded, “That’s a great idea, Boruto. Why don’t we do that right now?”

“Yeah?”

She smiled, “Yes, go get your crayons. We can turn on the TV and sit on the floor in the living room.”

Boruto bolted from her side and giddily ran down the hall to his room to gather his coloring supplies.

Hinata tried to wipe her tears and compose herself. It wouldn’t be good for her or the baby to continue down this road. She knew Naruto would be worried if something were to happen to her or their unborn child, so she tried her best to push away any frightening thoughts and instead imagined her golden boy coming home to her once again.

“Mama, can you help me draw the map?”

She nodded as she poured her son a cup of tea and placed a few of his favorite treats in front of him. He smilingly picked one out and started eating, leaving a few crumbs behind. She watched him in awe, still not quite sure how they had managed to create him. Her heart swelled as she watched him, making the young boy furrow his brow and ask, “Are you okay?”

“Ignore me,” She waved her hand and picked up an orange crayon, “Let’s draw this for daddy, yes?”

The pair colored for what seemed like hours. Hinata attempted to focus on the task before her, but every so often her mind wandered and her eyes drifted to the phone. Willing it to finally ring, to finally have someone tell her the inevitable.

She just needed to know, either way. She needed to know if she had to go open the drawer, go through the papers, unlock their apartment, and move out their things.

So many things to do, so little time to process.

“Mama!?” Boruto asked frantically, waving his small hand in front of her face.

“What is it?”

“The phone is ringing!”

Hinata jumped up from her seat and dashed to the phone. With her heart in her throat as she picked up and said into the receiver, “Hello?” she prayed for good news.

“Hinata?” She heard Sakura’s voice ask.

“Yes!?”

“You need to come to the hospital. Let me send someone to bring you and Boruto.”

“I-Is he okay?”

Sakura exhaled, “He’s in rough shape, but he’s going to be fine.”

Hinata’s legs gave out from under her, and she managed to fall upon her knees as she cried into her hands. Boruto quickly picked up the phone and asked, “Auntie Sakura? Mama’s crying.”

“Is she alright?” Sakura asked.

Boruto studied his mother and nodded, “Mmhmm. I think she’s okay, just crying.”

“You take care of her, okay? I’m going to send Sai to bring you over to see your dad.”

“Dad’s back!?”

“Yes he is, we’ll see you soon okay? Take care of your mama.”

Boruto quickly hung up the phone and ran upstairs to grab his coat and his mother’s. Just as he heard Sai knock on the door he grabbed the map he and Hinata had just finished and folded it into his pocket.

He was going to make sure his dad didn’t worry his mom like that ever again. 

---

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Hinata cried as she hugged her husband tightly to her chest. 

“Hina, you know I’d never leave you,” He muttered as he tried to mask the pain she was inflicting onto his already injured body.

“Daddy!” Boruto called as he jumped onto his father’s hospital bed.

“Gentle!” Sakura yelled as she walked in behind him, “He has a long road ahead of him before he can horse around with you again, Boruto.”

Naruto look down at his son and smiled, “Did you take care of mom?”

Boruto nodded solemnly, “Yeah, and we made you this,” he grabbed the map out of his pocket and placed it on Naruto’s lap, “Just to make sure you always make your way back home okay? I don’t want you worrying mama like that again.”

Hinata brushed Boruto’s hair back and kissed his forehead as Naruto tried to push away his tears. 

“No matter where I go, now I know I won’t get lost,” Naruto said proudly as he took Boruto into his embrace and pressed his cheek to Hinata’s swelling belly, “I’ll always know my way back home thanks to you three.”

[samusangel]

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚𓆟 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀; what happens when inarizaki’s sweetheart falls head over heels for renowned fuckboy miya atsumu?

⤿ 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲; fluff, angst

⤿ 𝗮/𝗻; everyone has a kansai accent (the reader’s accent isnt that strong at times) so dont let ur brain get jumbled. enjoy <3

⤿ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴(??): swearing, SPOILERS!!

⤿ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.3k

𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗼 *̣̩⋆̩☽ 

y/l/n y/n, inarizaki’s very own angel. always bubbling with excitement, always smiling. her giggles often enchant the students of inarizaki; it’s like a glimpse into heaven.

never in a million years would they have thought she’d be friends with miya atsumu. inarizaki’s very own devil in disguise. your typical heartbreaker.

if it wasn’t for kita and suna’s constant begging for her to be the manager for the volleyball club, she’d probably not even talk to him.

“y/n-chan!”

you swiftly turn on your heel, stopping the current conversation you were having with aran. atsumu’s in front of you, panting. he must’ve been running here; you put a mental note in your brain to give him water later.

“thought i’d never catch up to ya. for a shorty, yer pretty quick.” atsumu’s smiling at you, it’s the same smile he gives to every other girl. you aren’t special to him, you’re just a fling waiting to happen.

you’ve been crushing on atsumu for quite a while. maybe it’s the affection he gives you? the other boys on the volleyball team give you brotherly love, you even call kita nii-san sometimes. but atsumu? his affection gave the intentions that he was interested in you. the same affectionate ways your friends’ boyfriends gave them. but you think again. this is miya atsumu, a playboy at it’s finest. he would never be interested in you, right?

“‘tsumu, i told ya not to call me shorty!” you lightly smack his arm, pouting.

“can’t resist it, yer too cute to not be called shorty. let’s go.” atsumu holds your hand as the two of you walk to the gym for practice.

“kita-nii!” you quickly let go of atsumu’s hand and run towards kita, hugging him.

“y/n-chan, it’s good to see you made it without you and ‘tsumu bitin each others’ heads off!” kita chuckles, patting your head as a signal to go get the surprise you had made for the team, aran getting up to go with you.

the moment you’re out of earshot, kita yells at atsumu.

“why’re ya late, ‘tsumu? thought ya said you’d make it on time today,” kita scoffs, thoroughly done with atsumu constantly being late the past month. nationals were coming up, he couldn’t have the team slacking, “don’t tell me it’s another one o’ ya dumb flings again.”

“was waitin for y/n-chan, she had to stay back and help some douche with his homework. tch, as if,” there was a certain jealously laced in his words, one that if you’d heard it you’re sure it would make your precious little heart burst.

“yer not much better, ya know.” osamu casually puts out, and he isn’t wrong. after all, atsumu isn’t given the title ‘playboy’ for nothing.

“‘samu, don’t be like that. i aint all that bad, right?” atsumu whines, frowning like a little kid about to have a temper tantrum.

“guys!! i have somethin’ for ya!” you walk back into the gym with aran, both holding a tray of baked goods.

“eh? y/n-chan, what’s that for?” the sweet smell of vanilla and strawberries wafts through the air, very quickly catching the inarizaki team’s attention.

“well.. you guys have been working really hard lately getting ready for nationals so i thought it’d be nice to bake you guys some sweets,” the team stared at her, wide-eyed. how did they get so lucky?

“o-oh but.. if ya guys don’t wan’ em-”

“y/n-chan, ya fuckin angel. we’re gonna eat all of these.” atsumu pulls you into a hug, your face smushed into his chest. you feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, but you ignore the fuzzy feeling and familiar butterflies swarming; simply letting atsumu do what he wanted.

“‘tsumu, let go! ya gotta eat before the rest of the guys eat em!” atsumu loosens his grip around you, changing his hold on you to his arm falling to your waist.

the team eat the trays of pastries you baked the night before, osamu and atsumu constantly fighting over the mini-cupcakes you made with the extra batter. osamu claims they taste better, while atsumu just wants an excuse to beat his brother at something. suna just quietly eats the vanilla cookies, thanking you for being so generous to the idiots on his team. aran and kita are just watching osamu and atsumu fight, munching on cornets.

atsumu usually doesn’t make it very far fighting with osamu, it seems keeping his hold on your waist is much more important to him. your heart flutters at the position you’re currently in; you sitting next to atsumu, your head resting softly on his shoulder. atsumu humming a soft little tune only for your ears to hear as he peacefully watches you play with his much larger hands.

“should i bake some more for tomorrow?” you ask, lifting your head from atsumu’s shoulder to start packing up the trays and cleaning any crumbs the boys left behind.

“if ya wanna, we’re not fussed.” aran smiles sweetly to you; you simply give a small smile back.

“alright, we’ll just skip practice for today. you’re all gonna practice extra tomorrow though,” kita chuckles hearing the disapproving groans from his teammates, “don’t worry, im sure y/n can think of a way to keep ya excited.”

“i’ll start thinkin of some fun activities we can do on the weekend!” you chirp, getting up to find your bag.

everyone starts piling out; you walking out eagerly chatting with osamu about a new recipe you’ve been dying to try. atsumu’s much larger hand engulfs yours as you and atsumu split ways from osamu since atsumu insisted he walk you home.

“’tsumu, you don’t have to walk me home. i’m not a lil’ kid anymore.” you smile at him, feeling a sense of euphoria at the fact he chose to walk you home instead of walking home with osamu.

“yer so innocent though, i swear someone could lure ya in with candy or somethin’.” atsumu laughs, watching the way your face goes from a soft smile to slightly confused to very offended.

“c’mon atsu’,” you whined, pouting, “i’m not that dumb!”

“yeah, but ya aren’t that smart either,” he takes a moment to admire you while you ramble about how you still got better grades than him and how osamu is the smarter twin.

“oh! tsumu, you should go home now.”

“right. see ya tomorrow, y/n!”

the next few days pass and you feel as if the atmosphere is off between you and atsumu. you’ve spoken to osamu about it and he feels the same way. did something happen between you and atsumu?

“..astu’?” you tap atsumu’s shoulder softly, letting him know you’re there.

“oh. y/l/n.” atsumu isn’t looking at you with the usual gleam in his eyes and you’re starting to wondering if you messed up something.

“‘tsumu, why’re you callin’ me by my last name?” you bite your lip in a state of confusion and nervousness.

“y/n. we need to talk.” he sighs in a way that you would when you’re disappointed and you’re thinking you really fucked up.

after school, you meet atsumu in the gym. they don’t have practice today, so the gym was the perfect place to meet up.

“y/n. i know what you think about me. i can see it in the way you look at me.” atsumu begins, almost instantly regretting what he’s decided to do. the way your eyes are starting to tear up makes him know you know what he’s talking about.

“atsumu.. i didn’t- i didn’t mean to. it just-” you stutter out, tears dripping down your cheeks, as atsumu pulls you into a hug.

“shh, i know. it’s okay, yeah? just ‘cause ya fell in love with me doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends. just needed ya to know that ya shouldn’t confess to me. i’m gonna have to reject ya, and i really don’t wanna do that.” you don’t know what to say, especially since you were hoping to confess to him in a few days.

“i- i’m gonna go, atsumu.” you pull away from him after a few minutes of silence and after your sobs have silenced.

“i’ll walk you home.”

“no.. atsumu, i need time to think, y’know?”

days pass, days turning to weeks and weeks beginning to edge onto two months. the heavy tension in the gym is suffocating. the bus ride to nationals isn’t much better either. you’re sitting as far away from atsumu as you can, avoiding the awkward looks he gives you. you know he wants to apologise for being so blunt to you, but you aren’t ready to talk to him yet.

“y/n, i think it’s time you talked with ‘tsumu. i know you don’t want to, but as our manager you have to for the sake of the team.” kita’s calm voice snaps you out of your lost state of mind. it was evident that you weren’t feeling your best from the way your gaze was soft and it looked like you were drifting off.

“oh. uh.. i don’t think he wants to see me right now?” you try to make an excuse but kita simply shakes his head no and you grumble.

“y/n. go now, please. ‘tsumu isn’t focusin’ durin’ practice. as manager ya needa set him straight.”

“kita-nii..” you hesitate for a moment, “fine. i’ll do it.”

“thank you, y/n.”

you walk up to atsumu, who seems quite surprised you’re even looking at him right now, and sit next to him.

“atsu’.. i don’t wanna be the reason you might lose nationals. i know how much this means to you,” you make eye contact with atsumu for the first time in about a month.

“y/n, it’s not yer fault, yeah?” atsumu cups your cheek with his hand, a small smile growing on his face, “shouldn’t have been so blunt with ya anyways, shoulda known you’d react like this.”

“are.. are we okay again?” you bite your lip lightly, patiently waiting for a reply.

“think we were always okay, we just had a lil’ mishap, y’know?”

“so.. can i sit next to you?” you feel at peace knowing what happened hopefully won’t change your current dynamic, even if you know atsumu definitely won’t be yours.

“yeah, ya can. c’mere.” you sit down before atsumu tucks you into his side.

the rest of the ride is silent, but the uncomfortable tension is eased.

nationals pass by in a few blinks. but in the end, unfortunately, inarizaki lost to karasuno; a school no one would’ve thought could make it this far before, not after their reputation of being ‘clipped crows’.

the bus is once again silent during the ride home, and it breaks your heart — as the manager who’s been with them as long as the second years have — seeing how distraught the boys look. everyone looks disappointed in themselves, even suna looks upset. but most of all, atsumu looks like he’s on the verge of tears. and sitting next to him gives you the front seats to the way his eyes are glossy, the tears threatening to spill over any moment.

even the school feels silent, the losing game somehow affecting the entirety of inarizaki. even you, the bubbly sweetheart, could barely smile.

months pass, and now it’s almost the end of your second year. everything seemed to pass in a blur, from the losing match to the rest of your second year. the only thing that seemed to linger was the feeling of regret; and your feelings for atsumu. maybe if you didn’t catch feelings for atsumu, he would’ve been more focused. if you didn’t catch feelings, he wouldn’t have had to talk to you about it.

although the boys didn’t technically have to keep practicing, a few of the boys kept going; especially atsumu.

“atsu’? it’s time to lock up before ya get in trouble from coach. again.” your soft voice calling out to atsumu snaps him out of his focus.

“oh. yeah, gimme a minute.”

you watch atsumu do his jump serve, the sound of the impact from the ball hitting the floor bouncing on the walls of the gym. atsumu tried to hit another serve before you register why you’re there but it’s too late.

“atsu’, no! i’ll help you clean up, c’mon. you gotta walk me home, it’s late. it’d be terrible if i, your precious manager, got kidnapped right?” you joked, though you were still terrified at the thought of getting kidnapped for real.

“yeah ya right, it’d be so hard for the team without our darlin’ lil’ manager.” atsumu chuckles.

your parents didn’t really mind where you went at night, especially since they knew you were often with atsumu. so it’s no surprise that your parents don’t call or text when it’s late at night and you’re at a park with atsumu, sitting on a bench together. the cold breeze making you wish you’d brought your jacket with you that day. and it seems atsumu notices because soon after you shiver, atsumu’s large jacket is placed on your shoulders.

“hey, y/n?” atsumu swings his arm around your shoulder and makes you shuffle closer to him.

“mm?”

“i like you.”

“oh, cool. wait. what??” your whip your head to face him, shocked at the sudden confession.

“maybe i can give this whole love thing a shot? doesn’t seem that hard to keep ya happy.” atsumu jokes, watching as your expression shuffles through happy, confused and a mix of the two.

“i- i like you too but.. your volleyball career?”

atsumu simply shushes you and brings you into a soft kiss; and you wish time would stop right then.

“be my girlfriend?” he smiles at you, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

and who were you to say no to that?

[nebraska-is-a-myth]

Drown your sorrows - part 7

Grab your tissues dude, this one is not a happy one at all. I'm sorry in advanced

special shout out to my pal @hufflepuffkilljoy for helping me with some details for this chapter. I also feel like they’re going to kill me after reading this so wish me luck.

Masterlist

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Tommy is fortunate enough to stay conscious this time.

It's a lot warmer than the warehouse was and he's still just as afraid.

But he feels more prepared for the heat now.

Tubbo was so close to the first explosion, too close. Tommy watches the blast separate them and he can hear his friends desperate coughs from across the burning room. He can't get up, his wrist is hurt and his injured leg burns every time he tries to put pressure on it. He calls for Tubbo but he doesn't think his friend can hear him between his endless coughing and the roaring flames.

He's so thankful Tubbo isn't alone when Eret finally shows, the older man slips masks on both of them and they huddle together for a moment before Tommy hears something explode below them. He tries to cling to Eret as he reaches for Tubbo and they all plummet down into freezing water.

He and Eret sink into the water and the harshness of it makes Tommy gasp. 

Water seeps in through his mask and the tightness of it makes him panic

He attempts to take the mask off, as if that might make him less disorientated.

It's doesn't

He takes a big gulp of water into his mouth and suddenly he can't stop.

He's drowning.

His limbs flail about and he cant help but scream into the water as pain ruptures through him. He keeps taking in more and more water and his lungs spasm as they fill with murky liquid. Tommy doesn't know where he is, it's dark and cold and he doesn't know which way is up and if his body wasn't already submerged in water he thinks he might cry.

Tommy doesn't want to die

There are so many things he hasn't done yet, so many things he hasn't said.

He wanted to take Tubbo to his favorite place in the city and go adventuring through the abandoned buildings Dream used to let him demolish when he was angry or upset. He wanted to tell his best friend in the whole word that he loved him, that they were brothers until the end. He never really had the courage to say it before now, thought it would make him sound childish and weird. ( Really he was just afraid that Tubbo wouldn't feel the same, and he wasn't ready to let his best friend go just yet. )

He wanted to thank Wilbur for taking him into l’manburg, for trusting him and becoming the older brother figure he never thought he needed ( or wanted ). For teaching him how to properly aim a gun and negotiate something without shouting, for letting him become the heir to the empire they built. 

He thinks about all the movie nights with fundy and Eret, remembers popcorn fights and sleepovers, baking competitions and playing video games till early dawn. He remembers waking up from nightmares and talking to Eret about his scars, sharing the good and the bad with each and every one of them.

As the seconds roll past, Tommy can feel himself suffocating. His lungs fill with more and more water and his body starts to shut down, the pain is everywhere and nowhere and slowly he becomes blissfully aware that he is going to die here.

In the back of his mind he hopes that dream knows he’s forgiven. If he’s going to die he might as well forgive the man, he knows deep down that dream never wanted any of this and he hopes that his death will spark something in the man, and prevent the bloodshed of his friends.

The last thing on Tommys mind before the darkness swallows him is Technoblade, and he wonders if he’ll finally see him again when he goes to sleep.

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“How old were you when you first killed someone?”

“Jeezus Tubbo what the hell dude.”  

Tommy swats at his best friend who's laying next to him on the wooden floor. They're all laying on piles and blankets and duvets and tucked up in sleeping bags like campers. Popcorn crumbs litter the floor and Tubbo has kernels stuck in his hair after he used the bowl as protection from Tommy throwing pillows at him.

The group decided to have a sleepover to commemorate Wilbur's birthday, all of them laid in a circle around the couches in wilburs living room and Wilbur almost regrets letting them into his house.

Tommy and Tubbo are layed on the floor, heads close to each other facing opposite directions. Tommy is smiling as he flails his arms at the other boy and has his feet resting in Erets lap. Fundy is on Erets left, curled up in 3 blankets like a burrito, a clear sign of Wilburs handiwork after someone made a joke about fundy being wilburs child.

Wilbur himself is half paying attention to the movie they all put on as background noise as he tries not to look like he’s actually enjoying the night his boys had planned.

Nobody spoke at first, no one was really quite sure what to say. Eventually, Wilbur took a breath and spoke in a slight monotone. “fifteen.”

Even though they may have been concerned, nobody was quite as surprised as maybe they should have been. It was a rough line of work, it wasn't really a shock to anyone that their leader had started so young.

“Robbery gone wrong, cops came earlier than expected. Shot one to save myself, nothing more to it.”

Fundy pokes his head out of his blanket burrito a little more and rests his head on his knees. “Got in a fight back in the Netherlands when I was eighteen, ended badly for the other guy.”

Eret is a bit more hesitant to respond but with a reassuring nudge from Tommy, he gives the teen a small smile and takes a breath. “Got involved with a super serious gang back in England when I was sixteen.”

He doesn't say anything more but nobody really blames him. Eret never really talks about his time back in England much, but the team sees the way he gets nervous around cameras and always makes sure he can never be traced wherever he goes. Everyone is running from something, it's why most of them came to America after all.

Tommy doesn't realize it's his turn until he’s noticed everyone's looking at him.

He laughs and swats at Tubbo for a second time. “It's your question you go first.”

Tubbo looks at his friend strangely but shakes it off and reaches to grab a handful of crisps. “Ummm, technically I haven't.”

Tommy listens to his best friend shove a handful of crisps in his mouth and his throat goes dry, he only distantly hears Fundy ask Tubbo a question but his thoughts seem to drown everyone out. 

He knows he has two options here. He knows that lying is the safest one for him, that he could just follow along with what Tubbo said and just get it over with. But he feels compelled to let the truth just spill out of his mouth and let everything into the world. He can't help it when the words start falling from his lips, he so desperately wants to shove everything back into the box he’s kept everything in for years and go back to the fun loving, annoying Tommy everyone knows.

But instead he just had to open his stupid mouth like he always does.

“I uhh, I killed mum.”

Shit

Shit

Shit

“She uhh, bled out, when I was born.”

Shut up

Shut up

Shut up

“So yeah uhh, I guess I win.”

The room is silent, and he’s brought out of his head by Eret rubbing small comforting circles into the bottom of his leg.

“Tommy.”

He really wishes he hadn't spoke

“You know that couldn't have possibly been your doing.”

Wow the ceiling is really interesting

“Tommy.”

He can't speak. If he speaks he’s going to cry and he can't cry. 

Tommyinnit doesn't cry.

He feels Tubbo moving to wrap and arm around him and he really wants to just not be here.

He’s lying on the floor of his bosses friends house, crying in front of the people he cares about most about because he couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut.

Tommy feels himself moving and slowly more and more arms are around him. He feels a blanket being draped over him and suddenly he finds himself sobbing into someone's chest.

Someone is running their hand through his hair and he wonders if that's something his mother would have done for him.

Sometimes he wishes life was different, that maybe he might have had a better childhood if his mother had been in his life for longer than three seconds.

But as he feels his own tears soak into one of his friends' shirts, he thinks that maybe his life ain't so bad.

And later in the night when he's stood on Wilbur's kitchen counter with Erets glasses hanging off his face singing loudly to random Hamilton songs with his friends, he knows he wouldn't change it for the world.

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Tommy wakes up confused and coughing.

He can feel the water spluttering out of his mouth and he feels like he's throwing up his organs.

He’s vividly aware that something doesn't feel right

He feels wrong and disorientated and,,,

He’s underwater?

Tommy flails his limbs about and in a matter of seconds he surfaces into darkness

He coughs up all of the water that's been sloshing about in his lungs and his throat stings as fresh air floods into his body.

Through all the coughing and the sound of water in his ears, he hears a voice calling him.

“Tommy!”

He turns his head to find Eret also treading water on the other side of a mountain of rubble, he has a large gash on the side of his head that looks like it would have dried by now if not for the water continuously splashing against it. His glasses are nowhere to be seen and Erets looking at him like he knows something Tommy doesn't.

“Tommy thank god you're okay.”

Tommy swims over to where Eret is still floating and takes a moment to examine the rubble surrounding his friend. 

Most of it seems to be concrete and rocks piled up around him, but the two big metal pipes separating him and Eret are what concern him. And the fact that Eret hasn't made an attempt to move past them.

"Where's tubbo?"

"He swam over that direction, tried to find a way out I think."

"Why didn't you follow him."

"Tommy."

"Come on we can't just leave him to look on his own. He'd get lost in a bloody parking lot."

Tommy wraps his hands around one of the pipes and attempts to push it out of the way.

Eret doesn't move.

"Tommy I,"

"Waters rising, gotta move this thing before Tubbo ends up swimming into someone's toilet."

The younger boy changed angles and tried to pull the other pipe towards him.

"Tommy."

He feels Eret place his hand on top of his own but the younger boy swats it away and keeps trying to force the pipes out of the way.

“Come on man, just, just try.”

Eret grabs his hand again.

“Just help me okay!”

Water splashes up Tommys nose and he feels tears pricking at his eyes

“Just, Just do something! Please! please” 

Eret grabs a hold of both of tommys hands and holds him as close as the barrier of rubble will let him.

“Please. I can't lose you too.”

Erets voice is soft and calming. Tommy wants him to laugh and point at him and tell him how this is all just a big joke and they can all go home together and watch movies on Wilburs couch.

But he doesn't

“Hey it's okay, you're not gonna lose me alright. I will always, always be with you, no matter what.”

“Don't give me that bullshit. I don't want you in my heart or looking down on me, I want you to stay here, alive.”

“I want that too Tommy, more than anything. But life doesn't always go the way we want it to.”

Eret coughs and shivers in the water, he looks up and realizes that neither of them have a lot of time left before the water fills the room. They both know Tommy can't stay here any longer, and it's only a matter of time before the coldness of the water gives him hypothermia.

“You need to go.”

“No.”

“Tommy.”

“No I am not leaving you here!”

“You don't have a choice Tommy!”

“Yes I do! Now help me move these goddamn pipes”

“For fuck sake Tommy! I am stuck down here! Those pipes aren't going to move and I'm not leaving this fucking basement. You need to go, now!”

“I-”

“Tommy you are my brother and I will always love you but you need to get the fuck out of here right now.”

“Tommy, Eret!”

“Down here.”

Eret hears Wilbur jump down into the freezing water and he can faintly see him swimming towards him and Tommy.

“You guys okay?”

“Yes now get him out of here.”

“I said no!”

“What about you.”

“I'll be fine just go.”

Wilbur takes a moment, a moment of weakness, a moment of emotion and sadness and he looks at Eret, his friend. He feels the water clog his nostrils and nods, with his heart heavy and his mind full, he drags a tired and freezing Tommy away.

“Wilbur let me go!”

“We can't leave him!”

“we have to help him!”

“Wilbur!”

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Later on when everyone's safe and dry and the adrenaline and panic has left his system, Wilbur finds himself gazing up at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. Every time he looks at himself all he can see is the look in his friends eyes before he left him to drown, he remembers the hurt in his face and his willingness to die just to see Tommy safe. Every time he closes his eyes it's all he sees.

Wilbur stands up tall and strong in front of himself and plasters on the face of a warrior, a face that dream and George and sapnap will forever fear. He vows on this day that he will teach them what true fear feels like, no more kind words or friendly disputes.

He doesn't care about making allies or keeping peace.

His city is in danger

His mind is broken

His friends are traumatized

Eret is dead

And Wilbur wants vengeance.

If dream wants war, he’ll give him war.

[waywardimpalawriter]

Man out of time (Marcus Moreno x Female Reader)

Man out of time

Pairing:  Marcus Moreno x Female Reader

Characters: Marcus Moreno, Missy Moreno, Anita Moreno, mentions of Miracle Guy,  

Setting: few months after the end of We can be heroes 

Rating: PG-13 for now

Warnings: few curse words, angst mostly,

 Word count: 1,610

Summary: Simple, two syllable word Dictionary.com say’s it means easy to understand, deal with, use, etc. Marcus Moreno curses its existence, wishing his katana’s could cut through with a neat slice and bring back what he’s lost.   

Notes: Written for Writer Wednesday held by the marvelous @autumnleaves1991-blog​. I’ll admit I battled with this one for a good while and with the help of @icanbeyourjedi​ decided this would be my first Marcus Moreno fic. I do hope you all enjoy and as always much love to all my doves. 

“You promised remember?” Stubborn set to her small statue, arms across with a deep glare in those normally sweet brown eyes. “What happened to that promise dad?”

Looking to his mom for help but coming up empty as she just lifts her hands and shrugs with a small roll of her eyes before turning away to head back towards the kitchen. “Thanks mom,” slight sarcastic twist to the tone. Hand resting on popped out hip studying his daughter while searching for the right words to explain. “True it’s no emergency like two months ago Missy but the mission is simple enough I’ll be back home before the weekend.”

“Take me with you then,” brow lifting in challenge remind Marcus so much of her mother the memory picking his heart.

Pushing those thoughts aside, “I can’t you have school and training,” seeing her fixing to protest he holds up a hand to stall the flow of words. “Besides it’s too dangerous, this isn’t a typical mission the Heroics would go on.”

“So they push it on you, why?” Voice rising slightly with worry and a dash of fear for her father’s safety.

Running a hand through his hair tugging the dark strands lightly in frustration. “Things are…” always searching for the right words to explain, without giving too much away and keeping Missy in the dark to protect her. “Complicated Missy I have to lead by example you know that sweetheart. Please trust me when I say this isn’t something I want to do.”

“Then why…”

Sighing Marcus steps towards his daughter crouching down so their eye level, “Because I’m the only one qualified to take the mission.” Resting a fingerless gloved hand on her slim shoulder, “Simple in and out, take out the bad guy done,” offering her, his patented half smile. “Besides you’ve got your friends now and training you’ll never notice I’m gone.”

Expressive chocolate eyes roll but the smirk is all Moreno when they lock back with her father’s. Flinging herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and hugging the life’s breath from his lungs. “You’re wrong dad I’ll miss you,” trying to keep the trembling from her voice. Tears pricking the back of her eyes, nose rubbing along the leather jacket he’s wearing. “Four day’s right? No longer?”

“No longer just four days sweetheart,” pulling back to smile at his daughter catching the fear in her glassy eyes. “I promise to be safe.”

“And come home right?” She adds still clinging to her father’s shoulders. Memories of watching the alien’s wrap their mechanical arms around and pull him into the ship still very fresh in her mind. Never wanting a repeat performance of those horrible three hours.

Nodding, “Yes ma’am and I expect you to mind your abuela, do your homework and train.” Ticking off each one while giving her a smile.

“Always dad,” eyes rolling again as she lets him go, standing to his full height now. “When do you leave?”

Smiling slipping to a frown, “Once I’m packed. Intel came in this afternoon and I’ve been briefed.”

“Ah so that’s why your wear this ridiculous get up and rode in on that obnoxious two wheeled death machine,” putting her own words into the conversation, Anita Moreno rejoined her son and granddaughter leaning heavily on her cain. “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me Marcus Moreno you aren’t too old for me to whip,” banishing her walking stick towards him affectionately.

“Mom,” wanting too but doesn’t roll his eyes at her words, heart warmed by the undercurrent of worry he picks up despite her admonishment. Knowing much like Missy, she worried about his well being and the dangers lurking around each corner for the leader of the Heroics. “Neither of you need to worry, it’s a simple mission nothing I haven’t faced before.”

Boy had he been wrong about those last few words, cursing that two syllable word with every fiber in his being while trying to adjust to these strange surroundings. Floating car honking, racing pass Marcus standing stock still in the middles of what didn’t appear be to a street.

“Hey asshole move before you get flown over,” half hanging out the window with a middle finger salute aimed his way.

Itching to use his powers on the punk Marcus shakes his head stepping back and almost tripping over the cement curb.  Mesmerized by the sheer sights surrounding him. Blinking several times thinking he’s seeing things or at the very least Miracle Guy is playing some seriously messed up trick on him.

“Lost?” Soft feminine voice questions from behind him.

Turning slowly, weary of who’s standing at his back, “You could say that.”

“Marcus Moreno?” Gasp issues from her parted lips eyes shocked wide almost like seeing a ghost. “But… but your…”

Frowning unsure of this woman with how she’s acting at seeing him. “I’m what?”

“Dead…” her words echo around him like a thick fog.

Head shaking, reaching into his jeans pocket to pull the cell phone out cursing upon finding it’s out of juice. “The rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated.” Trying to make light even as a stone starts to sink in his stomach. “Miracle Guy put you up to this? Has to be some kind of simulation testing me right?”

“No… no it’s,” bitting her lip, she takes a step forward pulling a thin clear plastic looking object from her pocket. “What year is it?”

“Why?” Looking between her face and the light up piece of tech in her hand, Marcus takes a step back. Only to be honked at by another flying car. “Tech guys stepped up their game this time around.”

“Because,” swallowing harshly, “your not in Kansas anymore Toto.” Trying and failing to give a half smile. Only to have it fall with he scowl Marcus sends her. “Answer the question first then I’ll explain.”

Sighing, running a shaky hand through his hair, dread filling his veins, “2021, March if I remember.”

“I”m sorry Dorothy but you’re wrong,” glancing down eyes focused on the thin piece of plastic in her grasp. Pulling up the calendar to show him the date. “It’s March 14, 2041 and you good sir have come back from the dead.”

Gapping like a fish out of water, Marcus can’t seem to string two words together till a bubble of laughter leaves his chest. Morphing into chuckles and finally a great big belly laugh which has him doubling over holding his stomach and slapping his knee. “It’s a joke right? Miracle Guy, Tech-No he’d be able to pull something like this off.”

Glancing up at her, seeing the weariness even a touch of fear painted in those deep eyes. Turning her phone back around to pull up the news report. Male voice echoing around the two of them only slightly drowned out by the busy city still churning.

“The search has been called off for Heroic’s leader Marcus Moreno as it entered the third week with no sign. Our hearts go out to the Moreno family hit by this tragedy. Leaving so many to wonder what exactly happened and how did his last mission go so wrong.”

Shaking his head, eyes blinking several times to clear the imagines of Missy and Anita crying in each others arms. Surrounded by the children of the Heroics and the hero’s themselves, each taking the news differently. Vision filled with Missy’s red rimmed, tear streaked face breaking his heart, legs giving out from under him and crumbing to his knees.

“I don’t… I just left… it’s been two hours,” words stuttering from his mouth trying to grasp exactly what happened.

Debating with herself whether to step forward for comfort or turn to leave. The former winning as she drops beside him, returning the phone to its pocket and carefully gathering this broken semi stranger into her arms. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t the intension we had. There’s,” swallowing hard when she feels him stiffen beside her. “A plan, we had a plan but it’s changed and now you’re stuck.”

Wide with anger and shock, Marcus’s deep chocolate eyes raise to look at her. “You did this?”

Gulping for air and words, “Not me solely no, I apologize truly this wasn’t… I mean,” fidgeting under the intense stare, bottom lip caught by her tongue and drug between pearly whites. “I’m sorry Marcus so sorry,” short sob leaving a dry throat.

“Sorry for what? For taking me away from my life, from my time period or from the little girl who needs her father? Because as I see it right now this is all manner of fucked up and your gonna do something about it. Fix this shit so I can get back to my daughter.” Seething with rage Marcus stands to his full impressive height. Reaching behind to pull both katana’s from there sheathes.

Staying on her knees head bowed, “I can’t that’s the trouble Marcus.” Looking up into his pain streaked furious chocolate eyes, flinching at the sneer that contorts his beloved features. “I’m mysorry darling truly,” words whispered and barely meeting his ears as she vanishes into the thin air.

Speechless, arms hanging at his sides, stuck by the realization of her words, the video, combine with the knowledge he’s lost twenty some years with Missy watching her grow-up. Emotions swirl like a thick fog in his mind consuming thoughts and making reactions none existence to the world around him. A world that’s left him behind, while he’s stuck in the past and facing an uncertain future as a man out of time.

[neptunetheplanet7]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 - 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ON THE TAG LIST!!

;mikasa ackerman x fem!lesbian!reader

;modern au, band au

word count: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, cheating

italics means flashback/memory recall

listen to the music masterlist

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quick message! unlike on my wattpad, i’m not doing a character introduction chapter on here. so heads up for he/they armin and she/they sasha!! those are just my personal headcanons i included into the story :) also, i wrote this a LONG time ago. i posted this on my wattpad on 2/24/21. i apologize in advance for any errors. i do plan to re-edit a lot of things regarding this fic in the future.

"She's coming back tomorrow," Jean said casually while pouring himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen. You choked on your breakfast. Armin took a worried glance at your coughing form from across the table.

"Sorry." You hacked.

"Mikasa is?" Eren peeked his head through the bathroom doorway as he looked away from the mirror.

"Yeah, I'm going to pick her up from the airport tomorrow night." Jean put down the pot of coffee and took a sip from his hot mug.

"Why so sudden?" Armin put down his book on the table in front of his plate.

"She spoke to me about it briefly. said there was something she needed to do when she got here. I'm just as shocked as you are. I didn't think she'd be back any time soon" Jean brushed the crumbs off his hands and put his plate in the sink.

"How can you all be so calm about this? Did you hear him? Mikasa is coming home tomorrow. She left nearly two years ago! She's finally coming back and none of you are freaking out? She didn't even say why exactly she was coming back." You stood up and threw your hands in the air. Suddenly you lost your appetite. 

"No need to get all bent out of shape, Y/n. You act like we haven't seen her in ten years." Eren said with a hair tie in his mouth as he grew impatient with his long and tangled mess of hair.

You rolled your eyes. "Obviously, but she left for a reason. Even when she gets here, will she still want to play with us? Her absence from the band has taken a toll on everyone, and our audience was less than pleased when she announced her vacation, or rather when I announced her vacation." You start pacing in the living room.

Armin's eyes followed you as you moved. "I hope she does, but it's unlikely. I recall her saying she never wanted to see Jean again. I doubt she'll want to play with him here." He theorized.

"Well, she did call me to say she was coming back so I don't think she's still very upset with me." Jean finished off his coffee and tucked his hair behind his ears. "It happened two years ago, after all."

"I hope she's doing better. It's not like we've heard much from her since she left. I have to clean this house! Oh god, it's a mess! You boys are pigs." You said frantically.

Eren snickered. "Well, it looks like you haven't gotten over your little crush."

"Shut it, Jaeger. I'm doing fine and, frankly, that's none of your business." Still pacing, you held your stomach as the nervous feeling grew.

"Yeah, it sure looks like you're fine." His lips pulled into a grin as he rolled his eyes.

"I think I'm going to faint."

"Do you need to lie down? You look a bit pale." Armin stood up and came to my side.

"I think I'll take a nap."

"You just woke up, smarty. Going back to bed already?" Jean chuckled. "I'm going to Marco's place. See you losers later."

A chorus of 'bye, Jeans' sounded throughout the room when he left through the garage door.

"Y/n, were you serious about cleaning the house? Because I have to go and I really don't want to clean so-"

"Yeah, Eren. You can leave, I don't care."

"You're the best! Thank you!" Eren chirped and practically skipped through the door.

"I have nowhere to be. So I guess I'll stick with you here." Armin smiled. "Do you need help with anything?"

"I'll be fine, thanks. Just nervous is all." You wrung your hands and blinked several times.

"Okay, I'll be in the office if you need anything." Armin patted your shoulder and left you alone in the large living room.

You quickly got to cleaning the house in a nervous frenzy, deep in thought. Mikasa had left one night almost two years ago after a heated situation between her and Jean that ultimately resulted in their breakup and Mikasa leaving the band with only a painful note left behind.

Apparently, there was more to the breakup than you knew, but Jean kept what we didn't hear to himself for Mikasa's sake. Essentially, Mikasa caught Jean and Marco together at a party Eren threw for his nineteenth birthday. You were with her when she saw them.

You and Mikasa were having a silly conversation in the long hallway in front of the dining room. Mikasa stopped looking at you and started focusing on something behind you. her small smile dropped. "and that's why I never- hey Mikasa? You okay? What are you looking at?" You stopped telling your story and became more concerned for your friend.

Confused, you turned around. You gasped loudly. "Oh Mikasa, I'm so sorry." You reached a hand out to her but she left the hall quickly. "Don't worry about it, Y/n. It's not a big deal."  You watched her speedwalk up the stairs with her hand covering her mouth. 

You confronted Jean calmly, not wanting to disturb the party, despite being furious. "Hey, Jean. the world can see you, dickbag. And so did your girlfriend. Have fun explaining this to her. She went upstairs. Find her yourself. If you even care enough to do so."  You spat and darted away from them.

"Wait, Y/n!" Jean pushed past people as you swiftly made your way through the crowd in an attempt to find Eren. Normally, you'd look for Armin, but he was out of town for the night. You got to the kitchen and desperately glanced around. Jean took hold of your arm before you could get any farther. He turned you to face him and took note of your angry expression. "I'm sorry. let me explain."

You shoved him away from you. "Don't apologize to me. Don't explain anything to me. Tell it to your girlfriend. I'm finding Eren and ending this shitty party early. Frankly, Jean, I don't care what excuse you have." You kicked off your heels in a random spot and continued the search for your friend. Jean tried to follow you at first but gave up.

You pushed through crowds looking everywhere for Eren. "Where is he? Eren I need you," You muttered. You caught a glimpse of dark hair being pulled out of an updo. You took a sharp turn and bumped into someone. You fell backward on the floor and rubbed your side that you fell on. "Ouch."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going!"  A girl with multiple party foods in her arms shouted apologetically. She hastily set down her collection and helped you up. I took a quick look around the room, Eren wasn't there. The brunette in front of me tilted her head. "Are you looking for someone? I can help you find them to make up for bumping into you. Hey, you're really pretty. Are you the guitarist from that band? Wait, so you live here? Oh no, I bumped into someone famous! Connie and Niccolo are gonna freak out when I tell them! I'm Sasha by the way. Your name is Y/n right?" 

Taken aback by her rambling, and the fact that she recognized you, you stuttered for a bit before gaining your composure. "Yeah, I'm looking for a friend, actually. And that's me. I live here."

Sasha grinned. "Cool! Who are you looking for? I might know them." She linked her arm through yours and pulled you to the outside deck.

"I'm looking for Eren. Uh- Jaeger. My friend Eren Jaeger. I need to find him."  Your voice sounded shaky.

"Me and him were partners in Professor Hange's science class back in high school! He invited me since we go way back." She opened the door and stepped outside. "Hey Y/n, you sound upset. Did something happen?" She unhooked your arm from hers and put her hands on your shoulders with a concerned stare. You were on the brink of tears and didn't want to cry in front of a stranger, but when you heard the caution in her tone you couldn't help but let some tears escape.

"Hey! Hey, hey Y/n, don't cry now. We'll find Eren." She pulled you in for a hug and you slowly accepted it. You weren't even the one who got cheated on yet you were the one crying. You were worried about the band. You were worried about the fight Eren and Jean were sure to get in. You were worried about what Armin would think. But most importantly, you were worried about Mikasa.

The thought of her locking herself in a room upstairs alone after what happened was enough to make you feel sick. You had to find Eren and end the party. You had to keep him calm once he found out. A part of you had always hoped they would break up, and you always felt extremely guilty about it, but you never hoped  it would end in a way that hurt them both. 

You quietly sobbed into sasha's clothed shoulder, definitely staining her frilly dress. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess right now." You stepped away and wiped your eyes several times. 

"No, don't apologize. You don't have to tell me what happened, either. Let's go find Eren, yeah?" She gently took my face in her hands and wiped away at my tears. She hooked her arm through mine again as we continued our search for Eren. 

We finally found him after looking for a good fifteen minutes. He was sitting alone on the front porch with a beer in hand, his hair a ragged mess. He took a swig of it and scowled at the taste. Sasha nodded to you and left you alone with him. You opened the glass door and stood awkwardly behind him.

"Hey, Eren."

"The party's inside." He said bitterly.

"I know." You sat down next him and smoothed out your dress in the process. "What are you doing out here at your own party? I've been looking for you everywhere."

He sighed. "I heard what happened. with Jean and Mikasa. He went looking for her so I assume he's found her, that was thirty minutes ago, give or take. I needed a break and came out here." 

You let your head slump on his shoulder. He let out another long sigh. "I saw it happen. She ran upstairs so I came looking for you. I figured once I told you, you could end the party. That sounds ridiculous now, considering how many people came." You let out a dry laugh and felt him laugh along with you. His head rested on top of yours and he placed a gentle kiss on it.

"What are we gonna do now, Y/n? There’s no chance this'll go over well. The band could be ruined.” He paused and sighed. “I bet Armin would know what to do right about now."

"I bet he would." You took Eren's hand in yours. "I don't even want to think about what could happen."

"Neither do I. Do you want to stay out here a little while longer? We can go back in later." Eren offered.

"Yeah. That sounds nice." 

posted: 8/23/21

neptunetheplanet7© 2021

no reposts, edits, or modification to my work by anyone other than me.

[anthonyed]

Hi! If you’re still doing prompts, can you do 49. “Who hurt you?” Or 53. “Who cares about what they think?” + stevebucky?

Anon, I wanted to do both, but I only managed one this time :/ Maybe the second one would be a fluffier Part 2 to this piece in the future. If that happens, I'd rb this with the link (From this list: “Who hurt you?”)

-//-

There’s a boy in his class he’d never seen before. 

Stick-like with dishwater hair and a beak for a nose. He walks around like he’s got the entire world on his bony shoulders; head down, eyes on the floor and he makes sure he’s one with the wall all the time.

Bucky knows it’s not his business, but he knows what a fist to the face tastes like on the tongue, so he makes it his, anyway.

Two weeks into the term, he catches the boy out of the school gate and asks, “Are you new here?”

The boy startles and looks up and - My god! Bucky thinks. 

He’s got the prettiest pair of blue for his eyes and if Bucky had been thirteen, crushing on a boy for the first time, he would have freaked out. 

As it is, he’s 17 and been out for a year now. So he shakes the awe out of his fluttering lashes and puts on his best smile. “Hello, I’m Bucky Barnes,” he says. Hands held out for an offer to shake.

But the boy looks at him then his hand and he looks up again and he mutters, “Keep away from me.”

Bucky has faced rejection a billion times, he’s not a stranger to being shunned because of his sexual preference, but hell. This wasn’t even a come on. He was just introducing himself. And the response he got to that just pisses him off - beautiful boy or not.

“Shit dude, who hurt you,” he scowls. “Here I am offering friendship cause you look like you could use one and - you know what. Fuck you, man. You wanna be alone? Hell if I care.” 

Should have stayed in his lane. Should not have made this boy his business. Should have known he was just like the rest of them jerks.

Except he looks like he’d sucked on a sour candy upon hearing Bucky’s words and he stutters out a soft sorry. “I thought you - you were gonna jump me.”

“Well, I wasn’t, all right,” Bucky sighs, raking his fingers through his hair and it’s kind of awkward. 

But he walks home that day with the boy’s name fresh on his lips and his hand still warm from a shake.

-

Steve Rogers is turning 18 in three months against all odds. Ma seems to tear up more and more leading his birthday and he cannot blame her for that. She’s emotional, and if he wasn’t so hopeless himself, perhaps he’d feel the same.

Living with Cystic Fibrosis sent him to deathbed more than once. He’d greeted the reaper, kissed its hand but every time they thought this was it; he was pulled back to earth once again.

He doesn’t hate life, he just thinks he’s been fated to death since the day he was born.

So he keeps to himself; doesn’t make any connections he cannot afford to sever and kisses Sarah Rogers goodnight before bed like it’s their last goodbye.

But he’s turning 18 in three months and maybe that gives him some hope because he accidentally lets a boy in too deep into his heart.

-

When Bucky first finds out about Steve’s… condition, it’s been three weeks into their friendship, and they’re in a coffee shop sharing a bagel sandwich after their last class for the day.

He’d said something funny and Steve had broken into peals of laughter, grabbing his chest and wheezing from uncontainable joy and for a moment, it was the most beautiful thing Bucky had ever seen. 

And then it was the worst.

He saw Steve collapse right in front of him and ten other people; saw someone call for an ambulance, one of the staff yelled at Bucky about something but he couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t compute anything at all.

He froze where he stood; watching Steve die before him.

The paramedics arrived, someone pointed at him, one of the paramedics asked him if he was a friend; he said, yes.

She asked, “Can you tell me what happened?” 

He stuttered, “No. I - He. He’s my friend. But I don’t know what just happened to him. Is he - Is he going to be okay?”

She’d looked at him, first disappointed then sad. She said, “Your friend’s going to be okay. If you want, you can ride along with us.” 

She probably thought Bucky was a bad friend, but she never said that. She showed him the band around Steve’s wrist - which he’d never seen Steve took off, much less asked what it meant; just assumed it was important and left it at that - and told him what it means.

She flipped Steve’s wallet open, pulled out a card and gave it Bucky. “You’re lucky we know him,” she said. 

“Stevie’s a good boy. But he’s very shy, and he’s always kept to himself so, it’s very nice to know he’s been going around making friends.”

Two hours later, he’s still sitting in the waiting room with his hands clasped in front of him, watching two ants carry a bread crumb across the tile between his feet. 

Someone sits next to him; a nurse under her unzipped hoodie she’s got on and when he looks up, she smiles at him.

“I heard you’re Steve’s friend.”

Bucky’s been so tensed for a long time that he chokes on his spit when he opens his mouth. She waits patiently for his cough to subside. Once he can, Bucky rubs his hands over his pants and says, “Sorry. Yeah. I - I’m his friend.” Then he panics, “They said he’s all right and told me to wait here. Is he - Is everything -,”

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” She interrupts him, “Or drink maybe?”

He looks at her then; really looks at her, and he shakes his head. Something about her is too familiar so when she says, “Come,” he went with her.

She brings him to the canteen and buys him a sandwich and bottled water. “Eat,” she says. “If you’re gonna stick around, then you’ll need the energy.”

And that’s how Bucky met Sarah Rogers.

-

Steve is tired most of the time, but when he isn’t, he’s the brightest ball of sunshine. 

His joy made Bucky bloom like Cherry Blossom in Spring. Every single smile and laughter; if Bucky could collect them all in a cup and drink, he would. But even then, he doesn’t think he’d get enough of it.

He loves him.

First as a friend, then as a boy who’d like to possess Steve; keep him to himself; all that smile and happiness, just for Bucky and only Bucky and he would never let anyone take his Stevie from him.

But then, something happens.

He gets invited to Steve’s little birthday party, and he claps as Steve blows out the candles. Hoots the loudest, laughs with Steve’s mom and then at one point, he’s sitting by her side pulling tissues for her to wipe her tears.

The room down the hallway got its door locked with Steve inside it. 

“Sorry,” Mrs Rogers sniffles. It’s the fifth time she’d said it and Bucky has had enough. 

“Seriously,” he tells her. “Stop worrying about it, Mrs Rogers.”

She laughs while a tear runs down her cheek at the same time. “Oh, God,” she sobs. “You shouldn’t be seeing this - Nobody, should be seeing this.”

Bucky keeps his mouth shut and hands over another ply. 

Later that night, lying in his bed in the dark, Bucky thinks about what had happened. About Mrs Rogers kiss to Steve’s forehead, and her harmless words; “You’re growing into a handsome man, darling. Someday, somewhere, you’re gonna break someone’s heart.”

She wasn’t wrong. Hell, Bucky sat there thinking: he’s already breaking mine, Mrs Roger.

But that wasn’t what Steve thought. Whatever he did, it made him very angry. “Stop putting your hopes in me,” he snapped.

His poor ma, stunned, asked, “What?”

“Your hopes, ma,” Steve hissed. “You know none of that would happen. I won’t make it out of school -,”

And right then was when Bucky saw a mother break her own heart. 

Her hand came in a flash, connecting sharp against Steve’s face; the loud slap echoed and the second she realised what she had done, Sarah Rogers cupped her mouth with that same hand - shaking -, her eyes wide in horror and her heart -

Hours later, Bucky could still hear it shatter into a million pieces. He realises too, they never did cut the cake tonight.

-

The next day, he doesn’t see Steve in school. He calls his phone, and calls Mrs Rogers when he doesn’t pick up. Her line goes dead too. 

She texts later. Saying Steve’s in the hospital again. 

Is he going to be okay? - Bucky writes her.

Ten minutes later, his phone flashes with; I don’t know.

-

He’s not okay. 

They’ve got tubes stuffed down his windpipe, bags of fluids going into his veins and he’s looking bloated in the face.

The doctors keep hushing to Mrs Rogers. They tell her things Bucky doesn't understand; big words, complicated medical stuff and Bucky’s not so smart in the brain. He gets by with B in science at the very best. So he fills the chair by Stevie’s side and holds his hand instead.

When Bucky’s ma was around, she used to take him and his sister to Sunday church. She bought for them a bible each and knitted covers out of wool; one blue, one pink for Bucky and his sister, respectively.

After she passed, Bucky gave up faith and his belief. He’s stopped praying at all.

But right now, with the sound of Stevie’s heart echoing in beeps around them, he holds his hand and whispers what he remembers.

-

“He needs a new set of lungs,” Mrs Rogers says. 

Seeing her in the hospital without her uniform on is very jarring. Bucky stares at her fingers curled around a paper cup holding coffee like they held all the answers. 

They told themselves that the chairs in Steve’s room got too hard for their spine, so they’re  in the canteen for better cushioning. 

Truth is, they couldn’t take the silence in there anymore. So they’re out here drowning their sorrow in the most crowded place in the hospital.

“You know, I’m very glad that he met you.” 

Bucky looks up from her hand and meets her watery smile. She sniffles, “He knew he didn’t have a long time. So he walked alone. Never made any friends. I have the suspicion that he hates saying goodbye.”

Bucky’s throat aches so he swallows it down. Sarah Rogers lays her hand over Bucky’s and squeezes. 

“Thank you,” she tells him. “For choosing my son.”

He knows then that she sees right through him. 

“I love him,” he tells her truthfully; his heart too swollen with Steve to hide no longer. 

She gives him another watery smile and pats his hand two short times, “I know.”

Bucky swallows the lump in his throat and says, “I never told him that.”

-

If; Bucky thinks.

If he could go back in time, he’d like to go back to the first day he met Steve and ask, “Would you go out on a date with me,” instead of offering friendship. 

Or the first time he walked Steve out of the discharge suit so he could catch his frail hand, then his blue eyes and say, “Be my boyfriend Steve Rogers.”

Maybe a week before Steve’s birthday, when they were sitting in the park, with the late summer breeze caressing their skin and Steve had held his lips pressed the entire time.

They’d only known each other for two-and-a-half months then, but Bucky felt like he’d known Steve his entire lifetime. And he could tell that Steve was upset that evening.

He’d gotten off the phone with his mum that afternoon and back then Bucky didn’t know, but now, he could guess it was probably Mrs Rogers mentioning throwing him a birthday party. 

If Bucky could go back to that evening, he wouldn’t just stop at making jokes for Steve to laugh at. He would take his hand in his and press his mouth to Steve’s cheek. He’d like to tell him, “You’re beautiful” and that, “You take my breath away, Stevie.”

He’d like to tell him in detail just how deeply he was in love with Steve. With the sound of birds chirping overhead and water lapping in the lake, he would like to have kissed the sorrow out of Steve’s lips. 

But time travel is a fairy dream, and as it is for Bucky; he’s just another boy who’d missed his chance.

So he takes what he could get; he hoards minutes he could get with Stevie and treasures them dearly. Especially those without Sarah Rogers hovering by.

He tells him what he thinks; the weather, the new pair of shoes his nurse is wearing today, the little boy with a broken nose that reminded him of Steve and a helluva lot of ‘I wish’-es. 

He tells him: “You taught me how to love selflessly.” Tells him: “I would have given anything to have you beside me, but now I just want you to stop hurting.”