#a few tears might be shed we’ll see

[fandom-chameleon23]

taking the weekend as a silent meditative retreat to contemplate the Shakespearean tragedy that is celebrimbor’s life

[essycogany]

Rare But Not So Rare Sonic Moments. Character Analysis.

Crying

A weird topic I’m more then happy to discuss.

Mandate: “Sonic’s not allowed to get overly emotional.”

I’m starting to think the mandates do break in a few instances. This one specifically is something I’m quite interested in because this is probably one of the rarest emotions Sonic displays. Getting sad/emotional.

Hopefully this essay will be a positive outlook on the mandate.

(Despite being a discussion about negative emotions.)

Examples Of Sonic Getting Emotional

I might not include everything, but the examples I have knowledge of will be stated. If you have anymore examples, I’d love to see them.

SATAM: Sonic cried when he and the Freedomfighters had to leave his Uncle Chuck in Robotnik’s lab.

Archie: The times Sonic cried/teared up was when the weight of a situation got to him, when something tragic occurred and all hope was lost, or when he was filled with joy after those instances ended. Those moments like others, didn’t go too far. (For the most part)

Pretty sure he never out right sobbed.

Underground: I think Sonic only cried when he was a little kid.

Correct me if I’m wrong.

X: In episode 52 Sonic allowed his tears to shed with his head turned away from us. He and Chris ran one last time before Sonic left through a portal to go home forever. It obviously crushed him even if we didn’t see his face.

Boom: Sonic cried/teared up in two episodes of the show. First when Tails was reminiscing about the Tornado and noticed Sonic wiping his eyes. Sonic replied, “What?” Then he, Knuckles, and Tails all cried when they thought the baby they took care of was gone. Also, in Archie when Stick’s rock friend broke or “Died,” everyone in team Boom morned it. Sonic included.

IDW: Sonic shed tears in the Scrapnick Island Issue. Even if it was “Mecha Sonic’s” tears I’ll count it anyways because it’s a good loophole and it came out of Sonic’s eyes.

Movie 1: It’s implied he indeed cried during the baseball scene. The sources being a deleted scene and story-board of the film.

Prime: This doesn’t really count, but Sonic teared up in the first episode when he was held captive by the Chaos Council and had light blasted in his eyes, when he was in darkness. Then Sonic actually cried in episode 7 when he ate a seadog. Either because he was home-sick or starving.

(In the last episode of season two it’s implied he might cry in the next episode. Especially with the shot of him looking on the verge of tears and then covered his eyes in the background of the last shot, but we’ll see.)

By the way. You can see the instant improvement from episode 1 to 7 of the tears animation. Just thought I’d say that.

My Overall Thoughts

Hold on because this is going to be a long ride.

First thing I’d like to discuss is the mandate itself.

I personally don’t believe it means, “Sonic shouldn’t cry.”

(Which has been stated a bunch)

If that were the case, I don’t think this majority of moments (specifically the recent ones) would’ve happened. I think the mandate meant Sonic couldn’t and or shouldn’t go too far with his emotions. I don’t think the mandate existing makes any since, but I won’t get into that.

My point is, Sonic can cry, just not in an overly dramatized way unless it’s done for comedic purposes.

(I say that because of Sonic Boom and the 7th episode of Prime examples. Which are obviously not meant to be taken seriously)

My opinions on Sonic crying.

It’s not necessarily needed, but I don’t mind if it’s done well. I do believe Sonic shouldn’t go too far unless the situation does.

One Issue in Archie when Sonic’s entire life was basically ruined, is a good example. If you’re going to have such calamities happen to him, especially since he has zero ego or mask to hold onto, I think it’s a fair enough scenario for him to react as drastic as his misfortune.

But I believe if he were to cry in something like the Metal Virus. (Just for an example) it could be like how Espio teared up after Vector’s sacrifice.

Crazy idea. Let’s talk about Shadow for a minute.

Shadow is one of the most stoic characters in the entire franchise. He barely smiles, gets excited, or displays any overly positive emotions. While Sonic rarely cries, gets angry, or shows any harsh negative emotions. Shadow and Sonic are opposites because of that.

Sonic’s overall a positive and outgoing guy who wants to keep moving forward. Whenever he has the time to worry, he runs. Faces his problems head on. Sonic only let’s a small amount of his true emotions out when helping someone else. In general Sonic’s a pretty optimistic character.

Shadow on the other hand is a reserved and serious guy. Who wants what’s best for the world too, but in a more calculated and planned out manner. But for some reason, in Sonic Adventure 2 after Amy encouraged Shadow to save the world, (Which reminded him of Maria’s real wish) He sheds a tear.

I repeat. Shadow is the most stoic character in the entire franchise. Who rarely shows his emotions. And yet he cries.

Why can’t Sonic? To be fair, Sonic usually doesn’t have time to think, let alone worry about how he feels. But if Shadow himself can have a short moment of releasing his emotional baggage, why can’t the blue blur?

Is Sonic even as happy as he let’s on?

I’d say he’s genuinely happy half of the time. Then the other half Sonic’s internalizing everything negative in him. Everyone knows Sonic’s overall upbeat, but we’ve seen plenty of times (In the Metal Virus specifically) when he’s thinking, or enduring the chaos around him, he doubts himself. Sonic has these insecurities and emotions he barely let’s anyone see.

Besides Issue #24

Even in Sonic Prime while Sonic shows the most guilt, sincerity, anger, fear, and sadness in the show. He sometimes still puts on a front and acts like everything’s fine.

Sonic Unleashed I’m pretty sure was the first and only time we’ve seen him mope for a minute. All because Amy didn’t know who he was. So, he does have some level of insecurities lingering every once in a while.

Can Sonic crying even work?

How I interpret him crying is when he’s alone. Some people theorize in certain instances like SA2 and Unleashed with Shadow and Chip’s sacrifices, he cried a little. I’m fascinated by this idea. I believe it’s the most in character way to let him cry. Maybe even something like X when his face isn’t shown, but you know how he’s feeling.

Even if we do see Sonic’s face, him crying or tearing up could be shown without being over the top. Normalize it in a way that doesn’t fly off the handle. His expression could have a hint of frustration, anger, or exhaustion. Crying is normal and I don’t see Sonic crying as out of character because it’s been done plenty of times.

It’d be nice if it happened in order to make Sonic feel more believable and sympathetic. As long as the dude’s not on the floor whaling, I’m sure it can work.

Final Thoughts

There are other ways to show Sonic’s emotions. Again, crying doesn’t have to happen, but it does help the writing feel less unnecessarily limited of what kind of emotions can be displayed on this character.

Though there are benefits too. Like finding fun loopholes or small animated details like in IDW and Prime. Sonic not crying so much makes the times he does (or may do in the future) feel earned and impactful. The examples before prove it can be done without taking away what makes Sonic who he is. It just needs to be subtle, quiet, and quick. (Or humorous) Depends on what you think.

At the end of it all, Sonic’s a tough hedgehog. Him shedding a few tears won’t ever change that.

Stay Creative! 💜

[quack-quack-snacks]

Time Will Tell - Chapter 1.9

My Time Will Tell Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

The Time Will Tell Glossary

Warnings: Hyun-su being sweet with the kids, Hyun-su having a monster episode. Word Count: 1,113

prev | current | next

“Where’s appa? And noona?” Yeong-su questioned his older sister tearfully. His nose sniffled every few seconds as the tears refused to stop. “I’m scared. Su-yeong, it’s too dark in here.”

“It’s okay,” Su-yeong tried to console her brother. “We’re gonna be alright. Unnie will come and save us.”

“And appa?” Yeong-su asked again. Both kids were too young to truly understand how fatal the fall of their father was, Yeong-su only recently even learning what death was. Su-yeong had hope for her father’s safety, one that was born of childhood innocence and a need for guidance. 

“Yeah, he’ll be back soon,” she reassured. Her own tears soaked her cheeks and she cried quietly, trying to stay strong for her younger brother but only being able to do so for so long. She was only nine. She wasn’t supposed to be doing all of this at such a young age. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Both kids flinched and stayed quiet. Su-yeong pointed her flightlight at the door when it knocked again. She could just barely see the silhouette of a man through the glass but didn’t want to risk it. Not until she heard him speak. 

“Kids. I’m here to help you. I know you’re scared but I’m not a monster. I’ll get you to safety,” he promised. Su-yeong got up and walked to open the door, cautiously at first but then opening it fully for the stranger to enter. 

He walked in, looking at the two kids and sighing in relief when he saw they were unharmed. He helped set up some candles to start with before the three of them sat around the wax fires on the floor. 

“Please, sir,” Yeong-su was the first to interrupt the silence that had settled over them like a blanket. “Do you think you can save our dad?” He asked. His voice was devoid of any hope but he still desperately needed the answer to be a yes. 

“What?” Hyun-su asked them, momentarily forgetting how their father fell from out their window on the 12th floor. 

“Our dad fell down the building and hit the ground,” the young boy explained. 

Hyun-su looked down at his lap, wishing he didn’t have to be the bearer of bad news for these two kids. “I know.”

“Maybe he’s still-” Su-yeong said hopefully only for that hope to be crushed by his next words. 

“I’m afraid nobody can survive a fall from the 12th floor,” he confessed. Both kids started to sob softly, mourning the loss of their father. Hyun-su took a moment before trying to lighten their spirits with some good news, no matter how small that news was in comparison to everything else. “There’s a man on the 14th floor that has a lot of food for both of you. You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Both kids nodded in agreement and he continued. “You don’t want to stay here by yourselves, am I right?” 

“But what about noona?” Yeong-su asked quickly, his voice wobbly from the tears he continued to shed. 

“What?” Hyun-su asked.

“What about our sister? What if she comes back here?” Su-yeong elaborated. Hyun-su took a moment before coming up with an idea. 

“What if we left her a note to tell her where we went? That way she can head there too if she comes back,” he offered. Both kids looked content with that idea and he smiled softly, trying to reassure them. 

“In order to get there, we’ll have to go into the hallway. There might be monsters,” he continued with the explanation of his plan. “How old are the two of you?”

“I’m nine…” Su-yeong started. “And my brother is six years old.”

He looked between the two of them before smiling softly again. “You know, those are perfect ages to fight monsters,” he assured. Another moment of silence went by as he looked between the two of them before reaching over to gently squeeze the younger boy’s shoulder since he was still sobbing. “Don’t worry, okay? I’m gonna protect you, I promise.”

He ignored how his hands shook when he promised them that. He wasn’t lying about that promise, he would protect them no matter what. No matter what it took, he wouldn’t let any harm come to them. 

That didn’t mean he wasn’t scared though. 

After placing a sticky note on the wall directly next to the front door of the apartment, Hyun-su led them out of their home, down the hallway, and to the entrance of the stairs. After opening the door and letting them go through first, he took a step to join them until he felt his legs freeze in place. A jolt of pain rushed through his body but the one he focused on the most was the one on his right forearm, right over his scars. His eyes widened and his breath staggered when he saw a hand - that had to be his but was not one of the two attached to his body - run over his arm. 

‘Protect them?’ He heard his own voice question him. The voice sounded like it was spoken directly into his ear, as if a clone of himself was standing behind him and whispering it like a secret. ‘Is that what you want to do?’

He stumbled, dropping his weapon and falling against the wall. The same type of nosebleed he had gotten hours ago in his apartment happened again. Blood streamed out in an almost comically exorbitant amount. It stained his skin and his clothes, soaking everything within its path. His eyes squeezed shut, images flashing through his mind without his consent and making his head pound. 

He knew what this meant. 

He knew this meant he was infected.

He just wished it came after he had saved the two kids in front of him. 

“Are you okay?” Su-yeong asked cautiously when she didn’t hear or see him following them.

“Get away from me,” he warned, his voice strained. “Leave, now!” And he slammed the door to the stairs shut, separating them from him. 

“You always liked to act cool in front of the weak, didn’t you? Now look what happened,” the other version of himself asked. Other voices, ones he knew from the past, bounced around and echoed through his head. 

“It was my fault…”

“Fucking dumbass! Haha!”

“Come out!”

“Hyun-su? I’m not related to him! Who told you that?”

“Just let it go, please Hyun-su?”

“It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Bastard!”

“It was your fault!”

“Just let it go, please Hyun-su?”

“You’re a sad case. It was unfair.”

“Just die already.”

“It was unfair.”

“It was unfair.”

“It was unfair.”

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Grief/Mourning

Words: 993

@wolfstarmicrofic

***

Sirius arrived at Remus’ cottage yesterday on Dumbledore's orders. It wasn’t that Remus minded, but a heads up would have been preferable to a bedraggled, but grinning Sirius just appearing at his door at 11 pm.

He made them both tea, and some toast for Sirius, and they sat on Remus’ worn sofa staring at each other for a few minutes.

“Would you like a bath?” Remus asked eventually.

“Is that your polite Moony way of telling me I smell?” Sirius laughed. “I’d love a bath, actually. Can’t remember the last time I had a bath.”

Remus nodded and took his tea into the bathroom to start running a bath. Sirius lingered in the doorway, sipping his own tea from his favourite mug. Remus had felt silly for keeping it but now, seeing it in his hands again, he was grateful to his ridiculous brain for forbidding him from throwing it away.

“Can’t believe you kept this,” Sirius said quietly. “Thank you.” Remus just smiled at him, “So. I’m assuming that Dumbledore didn’t warn you that I’d be here?”

“He didn’t,” Remus added bubbles to the bath, to Sirius’ delight. “But I’m glad you’re here. We have a lot of catching up to do.” Sirius smiled at him as he tested the temperature of the water. “I think this is done. Towels are on the rail. Do you need—”

“Would you stay in here with me?” Sirius’ gaze was fixed on the cup in his hands. “Please?”

Remus nodded, “Of course. Whatever you need.”

He looked away as Sirius shed his clothes and slid into the steaming water. He continued looking away as Sirius groaned blissfully before sitting on the floor with his back against the tub.

“You cut your hair.” Sirius said, “It’s nice.”

“Thanks. Uh, do you want some help with yours?” Remus asked, “I have conditioner. It wouldn’t be too hard to detangle, I’m sure.”

“You don’t think I should just cut it all off?” Sirius sounded surprised.

“Well, do you want to cut it all off?”

“No,” He said in a small voice, “But I convinced myself that was the only way of salvaging it. It’s pretty bad. There are no hairbrushes in Azkaban, but I think being Padfoot helped.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He turned his head slightly to smile at Sirius.

“Thanks, Moons.” Remus thought his heart might stop hearing Sirius call him ‘Moons’ again, but he schooled his features and took a couple of deep breaths. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rested his head on the edge of the tub. “You want me to put some music on? I have all our old records.”

“Of course you do.” Sirius chuckled, “Oh, shit. I bet I’ve missed so much. How many new Queen albums are there?”

And it was at that moment that Remus’ heart broke. Sirius, he realised, had no idea that his idol was dead. He really had missed so much. It had only been a few years since Freddie Mercury’s death, but it still devastated Remus when he thought of the end of his life or listened to The Show Must Go On. So he tried not to.

“There were a few in the 80s,” Remus said, guardedly.

“But nothing new?” Sirius swirled his hands under the hot water and smiled at the sensation. Then he paused and looked up at Remus. “Please don’t tell me they split up.”

Remus shook his head but knew his eyes were about to spill over and give him away. “Worse, sorry.”

Sirius stilled, “Tell me.”

“In the 80s, there was this illness that mostly affected queer people, queer men especially. AIDS. It’s not a death sentence anymore, but it was then. It was terrifying. So many of us died, Pads. Freddie died. A few years ago. It was awful.” He inhaled sharply, “I’m so sorry.”

He looked up at Sirius and saw his face frozen in a look of pure anguish. A single tear rolled down his right cheek as a sob choked out from his chest. “No.” He whispered, “No.”

Remus turned around, no longer caring about seeing Sirius’ body. He reached out a hand to wipe the tear away and Sirius grasped it in his own. Remus sat on the side of the bath and pulled Sirius into his chest, wet clothes be damned. Sirius sobbed as Remus held him, stroked his matted hair, and rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said again. “Queen and Bowie released a single together, days after you went to Azkaban*. It felt like the cruellest thing in the universe on top of everything else. There’s a lot you haven’t heard. We can listen when you’re ready. I didn’t even think about…”

They stayed like that until the bath water was cold, Sirius bordering on catatonic, nodding as Remus told him about songs and albums that he’d love. Sirius wondered what the point was. Everyone was dead or dying, Voldemort was back, and he had no way of protecting Harry, or Remus. He closed his eyes as Remus gently washed his hair with warm water and did his best to detangle the knots. He stared vacantly at the ceiling of Remus’ bedroom for hours and listened to Remus breathe.

After a few hours, he got up and headed for the record player. He rifled through Remus’ records until one caught his eye, with cartoon versions of the band on the front, ‘A Kind of Magic’. He scanned the tracklist and found himself drawn to side 2. He slipped it onto the turntable, dropping the needle onto the vinyl, a very familiar crackle that made him smile tentatively as he turned the volume down.

As soon as the vocals started There’s no time for us, There's no place for us, Sirius found himself crying again. Within seconds Remus’ arms were around him and he held on tight. He wasn’t sure which of them started swaying gently first.

Who waits forever anyway?

***

* this is my villain origin story.

[natsuki208]

The Flowers Seem Prettier Today

Blood has been bled, tears have been shed, and endless battles happened on these very grounds. But now the flowers bloom, new found peace to consume, and with you I know much more will come around.

~

It’s quiet this morning.

The only minuscule sounds that can be heard are the gentle breeze pushing the curtains and the quiet rustling of the grass outside. When was the last time he ever heard such tranquility?

A young man is currently sitting idly in his chair, no thoughts are on his mind, only basking in the sunlight rays beaming in his face.

His emerald eyes shine along with the sun, his short, brown hair slightly move in sync with the wind, and after what seems like a decade can form a moderate smile.

Everything is at ease, until he hears faint footsteps approaching him. He blinks a few times before lifting his head to see the beautiful face in front. This girl who’s all too familiar from her long, black hair to the permanent scar on her cheek, and she appears to be speaking to him.

“Eren…” She mutters.

The man comes back to his senses after a brief moment of composure; the eye contact he makes with the girl feels even better.

“Mikasa…” he answers in a low voice. “How long have I’ve been sitting here?”

“Not long, only about 30 minutes.”

“Huh? Half an hour is still long though.”

In surprise, Eren lifts his head away from the back of his chair, now he catches the smell of something brewing. The thick, rich coffee smell fill us the entire main room of the cabin and it sure is delightful. While Mikasa goes to check on it, Eren glances outside once more to see the scenery of flowers all in bloom; surely a sight that he’s rarely seen in his life at this point.

Turning his head back towards Mikasa, who has just finished pouring their coffee, he accepts the handed mug from her with a smile. He takes a small sip, still very hot, but nothing he can’t manage.

“So… have we received any news from Armin yet?” Eren asks, just staring at his drink swirling.

Mikasa looks over at him with an honest half-smile. “Not yet. And I’m afraid he had to cancel his visit later today, due to another meeting with other alliances and Historia.”

“Oh. I see.”

Saddened by this news, Eren gently lays down his mug on the table beside him. It’s been three years since the battle against the titans finally ended and the public are still conflicted. That’s why it’s now important for the remaining scouts to become ambassadors to negotiate for peace between Paradis and what’s left of the world; but at first it’s was much easier said than done.

After a lot of trial and error, things do seem to be picking up well. Whenever Eren or him and Mikasa head into the nearest town, the townspeople no longer give him those cold stares so the rumours of him being fully responsible for Fritz’s destruction had eventually died down. As much as the two would love to help out their friends more, they chose to settle low for a while in their cabin near the woods for the time being - it’s what’s best after all the hell the guy has been through.

“This means we’ll have another weekend with just the two of us.” Mikasa admits, a small blush shimmers on her cheeks but not enough for Eren to notice.

But he’s smarter than that; he can hear the shyness in her voice. It suddenly dawns on him that even if they’ve decided to settle in this pleasant, sheltered cabin together, due to now being fully aware of each other’s affections, the two still never gained the confidence to share a romantic moment or two privately. These past few months have been super occupied with political undertones, that never had a chance.

But on a quiet, refreshing morning such as this, Eren might finally get to have his say after all this time.

“Mikasa?” Eren softly speaks for her attention, it works, as she turns her head upward to look at him - curious eyes and everything.

“Would you mind… taking a walk outside? I know it’s early but… it’s quiet. It might help to take our mind off things. Are you okay with that?”

The black haired girl can feel her heartbeat picking up, her eyes sparkle and butterflies flutter inside. How rare it is for Eren to ask for requests such as this, so she doesn’t know how to respond quickly; the cute look of him nervously scratching his head sets her at ease. She doesn’t really have any other plans for today anyway.

“Yes, I don’t mind at all.”

Standing up from her seat, she reaches out her hand for him to hold (the closest way of romantic contact they can do right now). Eren proceeds with pleasure and the two adults slowly walk their way to the front door.

~

The outside fields are much more radiant in person. All the flowers and trees dance in the wind, they paint the meadows with all their bright colors, accompanied by the morning sun lightening up from the horizon.

The pair have been strolling along hand in hand for a while as they’ve been enjoying the scenery so much, they lost track of time. Every few minutes, Mikasa will bend down to glance at any kind of flower she’s rarely seen, or what she’s only seen from a distance, and the smile Eren witnesses lifts up his spirits. Now that his feet are within the fields in person does he realise the bittersweet irony.

These fields were once the roaming grounds for titans, the very place they invaded nearly 12 years ago and took away everything that they held most dear. All the blood that was spilled have been replace by the redness of roses, the tears to the rain that helps them grow, and who were once soldiers are peacefully smelling each unique scent as they possibly can.

From one flower to another, they decide to rest on a little empty spot with just normal grass. Mikasa assumes that she can see the ocean from here; mostly possible because there are no walls to hide it. Eren can see it too, and what a sight it is, he wishes to wrap an arm around Mikasa but doesn’t feel confident yet so he keeps his distance.

A laugh has been shared. A quiet laugh but clear. Eren thinks his ears are playing tricks on him but there’s no denying it. One look and he sees the bliss on Mikasa’s face; is it him or does the sun happen to make her face much more luminous? Her eyes are shining like clear water, her ponytail waves behind her head and no minor scar can ruin such a pure image of the girl he loves.

Yes. He’s definitely in love with her.

But there’s something missing…

Eren’s gut is convincing him to look carefully, and there it isn’t - her old red scarf is not wrapped around her neck or at least isn’t holding it. If Mikasa smiling with glee isn’t a rare sight enough then this is the rarest.

“Mikasa… where’s your scarf?” Eren hesitates to ask.

The girl takes her eyes off the horizon as soon as he brings it up. She touches her neck but only feels her skin, she looks at her side but nothing is left there. The surprise expression makes Eren feel a bit down and sad for mentioning it at all.

“I… guess I forgot about it.” Mikasa closes her eyes in regret.

“I-It’s okay. It’s just… not like you to go anywhere without it. That’s all I’m saying.”

Come to think of it, when was the last time she actually wore that thing? He forgot.

Mikasa remains untalkative for a moment, leading Eren to feel even worse, so he tries to bring up that he’ll quickly run back to get it until…

“It was all battered and withered anyway.”

A more shocking statement comes right out the gate. An explanation follows before Eren can respond back.

“I didn’t throw it away, I’ve just…” She shakes her head tenderly. “I know it was special, but with everything else going on and… you with me… I feel like I don’t need it anymore.”

That last part catches Eren’s full attention. She really has grown a lot since their days of war and it shows. From a girl who never expressed her thoughts or feelings out loud to up front admit she can move on from an outworn cloth and still be happy. This can be the time for Eren to do the same.

“Y-You don’t mind, do you?”

Here it is. Eren smiles once more and gently grasps her hand.

“I don’t mind at all. It’s just a scarf. In fact, you might even look more prettier without it.”

One little word has Mikasa blushing red again, but she allows him to continue.

“I mean- What I’m saying is… it can be the start of a new life for us. Not just with fixing this healing world, but… continue to live here once everything has been said and done. We can walk across these fields or stroll into town or by the ocean, anything we’d like together. As long as it makes you happy.”

Bright red blush is glowing on his cheeks too, brighter than the roses behind them. The wind slightly rises and brings some flower petals with it; flying above the young blooming couple with eyes locked. If one touch makes this moment any more perfect is the brighter-than-the-sun smile Mikasa gives in return for such a heartwarming confession.

“Thank you.” She beams, followed by another cute giggle. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that for so long. A bit corny but was worth the wait.”

“Really? Well, guess I have a lot to learn with being all ‘lovey-do et’ then.”

More laughs are shared between the pair, they shift closer to one another for long awaited hug, and they fall back into the grass in sync. For the rest of the morning they stay locked in each other’s arms and briefly talk about their plans for the future (mainly on how to address this confession to their friends next time). Eren cannot stop himself from looking at his new girlfriend’s lovely face even as the morning comes to an end.

Now Eren knows why the flowers are much prettier today.

-

(I apologise if the ending is too cheesy lol 😆 )

[awkwardgtace]

Foggy Dreams

hi hi finally getting back into things. Got foggy finished though it took some time. I'll be getting the rest out as i can! so day 12!!

Rhys was told to stay out of the fog, but he's tired of listening when no one cares about him. It turns into something better than he could ever dream.

Foggy Dreams

Rhys was always told to stay inside if there was fog. His parents never explained why. Eventually he got tired of listening, it didn’t make them pay attention or care. So he snuck out. Opened his window on a day the fog was especially dense and climbed down a ladder he put there weeks ago. Of course his parents didn’t notice it.

The fog made it almost impossible to see. Even his hand in front of his face was nearly eclipsed. He found it kind of cool. Probably the best thing that he’d seen in his short life. Rhys started to wander. He wanted to experience the world in this fog.

After a few seconds the fog shifted. He thought it might be dissipating, he’d wanted it to last. Out where he couldn’t even see his own body he felt right. If no one cared about him he should be nearly invisible. He sat on the ground and stared up. Desperate to keep this place that seemed to accept him.

Then he saw what moved the fog. A gigantic foot that had nearly blended in, even more than he did. It was coming towards him. Was going to land on him. He covered his head and screamed. He was going to die at only ten years old. He’d be a stain on the ground.

The foot slammed where he was, but he went through it. There was a noise above him. A sound that he almost thought was a person. The foot pulled away, left him behind and alive. Tears slipped out of his eyes due to relief. His life may suck, but he didn’t want to die.

“Oh? I didn’t see you there,” a loud voice said. 

Rhys forced himself to look up and see who spoke to him. See the giant woman that looked as if she was the fog. She scared him. Red eyes that saw him through the dense air that had hidden him. She bent over and brought her hands close to him. He was barely the size of her finger tips.

The woman easily forced him onto her hands. Off the safe ground and up to the sky as she stood. The fact her foot wasn’t solid made Rhys terrified her hands would change too. That he’d plummet to the unforgiving ground.

“You shouldn’t be out here, it’s dangerous for someone so young,” she said. Despite the fear, Rhys noticed the warm smile on her face. Heard the kindness and care in her words. He never realized how badly he wanted that in his life. He never expected receiving it would make him cry. “Oh no, sweetheart, did I scare you? It’s ok. We’ll get you home safely, don't worry.”

Rhys shook his head. He didn’t want that. He wanted to stay in her hand. To keep those eyes on him. The ones that saw him when he thought he was invisible. Hear the kind, caring words even more. To see nothing, but that warm smile as she looked at him. He wanted someone in his life to care that he existed and this giant made of fog was the first one to do that.

“Sweetheart, it’s ok,” she whispered. The words were meant to soothe him. He knew that, but it made everything worse. No one ever spoke so softly to him. No one tried to comfort him when he needed it. “Shh, you don’t have to be scared. I’ll take you home once you’re ready. I’m sure your parents are worried.”

“They aren’t,” he croaked. The woman’s hand moved. Her face shifted. The warm smile disappeared, replaced with a worried frown. Another thing he’d never gotten before.

“You snuck out then? You aren’t the first child I ran into who was that curious. You should listen to your parents, little one. It can be-”

“They wouldn’t care even if I died.”

He interrupted her. A part of him wondered if she’d get mad. Yell at him, hurt him. Just like his parents. She didn’t. The frown on her face deepend. Her other hand came up, a single finger used to almost pet him. It made the tears he shed start up all over again.

There was silence as he cried. The woman didn’t try to change his mind. To convince him he was wrong or that he misunderstood. When he looked in her eyes he saw that she believed him. The first one in his life to ever trust his words. He’d made a name for himself as a liar at this point. This woman of fog didn’t know, and if she did he didn’t think she’d care.

When his tears died down she pulled her finger away. He missed the warmth. The gentle presence that cared about him. It was foreign and he desperately wanted to keep it. To feel loved. The one thing no one around him sent his way. Yet this one person did. She might not even be a person.

“Sweetheart, do they hurt you?” she asked. Rhys nodded. Words would only bring more pain. His voice would crack and she’d belittle him. Push away his pain and worries. He watched as she chewed her lip. It caused a mixture of fear and hope. She could believe him. She could call him a liar. Either way he’d soak up her warmth for as long as possible. “...do you want to come with me?”

Rhys’s mind went blank. A way out. The chance to have someone who cared for him. He was so small next to her, but she saw him. That was more than enough. He nodded with a prayer that she wasn’t going to change her mind. She looked away from him. Down towards his town. It was a dream she couldn’t grant.

“We’ll go for now, another day we’ll make sure they know you're safe. Although I’m not sure they deserve that much…” she mumbled.

Rhys cried again. He couldn’t remember crying so much ever in his life. There wasn’t a chance to when he’d be in trouble for bothering people. She brought her finger up to him again. Comforted him. This time he turned towards it, spread his arms as wide as possible, and buried his face in her skin.

“It’s ok little one, you aren’t the only one I’ve met like this. There's a place you can stay, one that’s safe,” she said.

“Will you be there?” he asked.

“As often as I can. I need to go with the fog. Someone I trust is there, I met him a long time ago.” She laughed a little before she turned him to face her. The red eyes were warm. “My name is Dabria and his name is Vitus. You’ll be safe with us little one.”

He sniffled a bit, “My name is Rhys.”

“Well then Rhys, let’s go home.”

The hand he was on moved. Up closer to her face. He rubbed at his eyes once her fingers moved away from him. A yelp left him as her hand tilted. Rhys rolled down her palm straight into her chest. She was so warm. The loud pounding of her heart blocked out the sound of everything else. His eyes started to feel heavy.

“Get some rest, it’s going to take a while. I might have to get bigger to speed us along,” she whispered. Rhys bit back the words he wanted to say. That he was scared if she did that. That she might forget about him. “Don’t worry, I’m the fog and it’s me. I’ll always know right where you are so it’s safe. Just tell me if you get scared and we’ll slow down. I can get smaller than this too if it helps.”

“Really?” he asked. The word came out a little slurred. Her voice and heartbeat were like a lullaby. One he’d never had in his life.

“Really… You sound tired sweetheart.” Her hand curved a bit and pressed him flat against her. Almost like a hug. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

All of this felt like a dream. He couldn’t trust she would be there. It was more likely he’d wake up inside his house. With parents that didn’t want him. Honestly, he didn’t care. This was the best dream he’d ever had. Plus if it was real then… then maybe he’d get to be happy. 

“Thank you,” he said as he closed his eyes.

“Sleep well sweetheart,” she said. Soft and warm, nothing like the fog she was made of.

[ahundredtimesover]

I have finally organized my thoughts lol, only after reading it 2 and a half times, and yes the extra half is the last bit of the chapter 🙃

Already a huge character development in Jungkook and OC.

For Jungkook to give her time and for OC to trust in him being her safe place; both very precious parts of oneself ♥️

I find a lot of me in her, so I did shed few tears and it’s almost like I’m growing with her. Not as developed as she is, yet

Also, Yoongi and Mr. Ri each have a part of my heart and I’ll keep these characters close to me for very very long.

Thank you Mimi, for all of the people in this lovely art that you are sharing with us

Two and a half pls and the half 🤣🤣 I feel you, anon. I mean, finally, right? 🤭🤭

But thank you. We’re seeing JK and OC truly open up, and with ch14 especially, we’ll see a level of maturity and vulnerability from both of them, which might be surprising considering how they are but that’s what happens when it’s the right person next to you. They’re each other’s safety, as we know now.

And noooo not you saying it’s like you’re growing with her 🥹🥹 this makes me emotional. I’m glad you love her, flaws and all.

Glad that you’re truly appreciating the characters! Especially the supporting ones, as I truly believe in their value and that it’s important to have good people around us 🥹

I appreciate this lovely message, anon! Sending you love 💕💕

[ha-e-l]

You did it  - [Winter Soldier x F!Reader]

CW: Major character death, Canon typical violence, ANGST, Winter Soldier’s POV 

This is my first ‘fic’ I’m actually posting. I have a few others that I’m working on (not all Winter Soldier/Marvel) and depending on how I feel after posting this, I might post them. We’ll see. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

“It’s ok” Her voice was a little quieter than usual, but not by much. Her eyes stared back at him, and though they should be filled with tears, they were only slightly glossed over. Just as glossy as when she first said she loved him. And he knew that this admission was the same. She was portraying the same message as she did that cold night, so long ago. 

His hand shook only slightly as the gun remained poised directly at her face; straight between those glossy eyes. It was almost imperceptible how his eyes flashed. The change of control in his mind switching. And it was gone just as quickly as it had showed up, the cloudiness returning to cover the clarity. But she saw it. She always saw it. The slight changes in posture, behavior, rhythm, and being that differentiated them. She gave a small, tight lipped smile, but said nothing else. 

“Now Soldat.” the deep voice rang out from his left. And though his view of the commanders face was obscured by his own raised arm, he knew exactly where the man stood. His eyes remained on hers until she forced the disconnect; turning her eyes to the ground with one final small smile at the man she loved. There’s was a moments silence, until the sun finally set on the soldier. His light finally removed from this horrid world. That clarity never to appear in his eyes again. 

BANG

Her body slumped almost immediately to the ground. Falling backwards from the force of the blast, those loving eyes gazed unseeingly up at the sky above them. Her lips rested in that small, tight smile. She looked so calm. It didn’t look like she was dead. The blood had yet to settle in her body, giving her the air of livelihood. She did this often in life as well. Lying on the ground to look at the sky above. She always loved the moon the most and for a moment the soldier wished he could have at least allowed her to see it one more time. But his mind was screaming, and concise thoughts were few and far between. James had yet to go quiet after the fatal shot. Though the soldier would be much more confused if he had been silent as he himself was. He wasn’t allowed to have these emotions, any emotions really. So he kept them hidden. Not allowing the handler to catch even a whiff of them. He remembered what would happen. He remembered a lot now, thanks to James getting away from Hydra. 

He remembered her smile, her laugh, her strength. He remembered her kindness most of all. The nights when he would sit bolt upright in James’ place in their shared bed. She would know it wasn’t the man she had gone to bed with. He never could figure out how she always knew so quickly, and he supposed now he never would. 

She always made him feel safe, and in return, he made sure that he did everything in his power to make her feel safe while he was around. Apparently safety doesn’t last long around them.  

This was never supposed to even be possible. The trigger words had been removed, he wasn’t supposed to be able to be called upon by anyone other than James. But that safety had been torn to sheds the moment the handler entered their home. He remembers trying to convince James to let him protect her. He tried so hard. But James stayed strong. Now that strength was demolished. The confidence that either of them had, decimated. Who would they protect now? Who would protect them? 

He took a step forward, ignoring the screaming from within his head which got louder the closer they got. He stopped so his feet were in line with her elbows; her arms folded neatly over her stomach in a way only she could manage after death. The soldier scrutinized her body. Willing it to stand again. To yell at him for what he had done. But he assumed that’s the opposite of what she’d  truly do. 

He imagined her standing up, brushing some of the dirt from her pants before looking up at him and giving that stunning smile of hers. The one she reserved for when she was truly proud. 

“You did it!” she would say. But it would hold none of the hostility, or malice that it should. “You did exactly what you were told to do, what you had to do my sweet boy,” she would raise her hand, and rest it against his cheek. He leans into the touch, eyes closing slightly at the soft warmth of her palms. “You’re keeping my boys safe, yeah?” She would ask, her thumb brushing against the apple of his cheek as his eyes fluttered open again to meet hers. He would give a nod, and she would smile yet again. “That’s right, I know you’re going to do that for me aren’t you? Going to do what you have to do, and look out for my lovely boys until you get out again, right?” He nods again. “I love you so much my sweet sweet boys. You deserve the world” And with one final blink, her body returns to the cold ground where it lays. 

The blood is finally draining from her face and giving her that gaunt appearance at last. The blood pools around her head, and as the soldier turns to return to his handler, he casts one last look over his shoulder. 

Her body looks relaxed, her expression a smile with love in her eyes. Her hands rest neatly across her chest, as her legs droop to one side. But the most striking feature about her was the blood that pooled around her head and upper back. The dark crimson swirls in the slights breeze, but remains in its decided shape. 

A heart.

[kravinova]

valourie:

    “I was implanted with a shard of a certain sorcerer’s soul when I was a child. It doesn’t give me much of his former abilities, only ones that are useful enough for combat purposes. Matter displacement being chief among them. I can also animate brooms to dance for me.”

  There was a light lilt to her words, as if she might be joking, but in reality she was most certainly not.  Animating her weapons to fight for her was quite the boon... Ah, she had SO much to show off, SO much to share with Ana. Having someone this close to her, in both age & blood? Were she a well-adjusted woman, she’d have likely shed a tear or two. Instead, she made her way to the door, eager to get to work.

    “If they refuse to pay, then we’ll have to get what’s owed to me in blood. My father, crafty as he was, often skipped the goons and went to blackmailing the leaders. His was the path of subterfuge and deception. I suppose, if the bodies of the foot soldiers behind us doesn’t convince the heads to pay us, then we might have to adjust our strategem.

    Do you have transport? Or should I make the arrangement?”

“Really?” Perhaps the broom comment had been meant as a joke, but Ana took it as a statement. A mix of not exactly being around humorous people the majority of her life, and her curiosity. Besides, she had just seen a sword disappear into thin air, a few dancing brooms were hardly out of the question. 

If this was just one of the first cards her cousin was showing her, Ana was excited and intrigued to see what else she had up her sleeves. 

That plan brought a gleam of excitement to her eye. Of course, it was wrong to kill needlessly or to be overly cruel, every hunt must be honorable. But what was more honorable than avenging the wrongs committed against a member of their family? 

“Oh, we absolutely have transport. The question is which to use,” Ana said, gesturing with a tilt of her head down the hall. “We have cars, of course, some more inconspicuous than others. We could use the helicopter if flying is more optimal. Gregor never lets me use the helicopter.” Possibly for good reason, but she did really want to use it.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: I’m doing it!

When you first told Simon that you were pregnant the man froze, he went silent and stepped into the other room. You couldn’t blame him, you two never discussed children and you knew of his past, of the abuse. You were sure that it would take a little for this to hit him. For him to get used to the knowledge about being a father.

It took him a few hours to finally talk to you, for him to apologize and hold you.

“I’m scared….I’m scared I wont be a good father. That I’ll some how be like my father.”

Heart clenching, you hated the thought of the man thinking that low of himself. That he could ever think that he’d be such a terrible father. Placing your hand on his cheeks you smiled. “Simon, you are nothing like your father. You will never be like that horrible bastard. You are a good man, a wonderful man that is a wonderful husband, a man that cares about his team and I know you’ll be a loving father.”

Closing his eyes, Simon slowly wrapped his arms around your waist tugging you in close, your words calming him down.

+•+

Simon seemed to become more protective of you once you became further along in your pregnancy. The man doting on you, taking care of wherever needs you have, going out to grab whatever you might crave.

He loved taking care of you, his fingers now messaging out any knots you might have in your back. “How’s that love?” Waiting for a response, Simon then tipped his head forward to see what was wrong though a chuckle escaped his lips seeing that you had fallen asleep. “Let’s get you to a proper bed.”

Lifting you up, he then carried you off to the bedroom. Gently laying you down he placed a kiss to your cheek then gave your belly a kiss. “Daddy loves you. I do hope you’ll be like your mother.”

Getting himself comfortable, he let his arm wrap protectively around your belly as he slowly fell asleep next to you.

+•+

“Simon”

While he may be on leave, Simon was never one to stop from working as he read out a few reports for Soap to take care of. “Yes love?”

“I want sex.”

Blinking, he placed the reports down. He pinched the bridge of his nose then ran his fingers through his hair. “Again?”

“Yes again! It’s not my fault I’m horny all the time.Bedroom! Now!”

Pushing away from his desk he nodded his head watching you walk though it was more of a waddle now away. “Yes love.”

+•+

It was a long birth, the man never leaving your side.His hand holding yours, know matter how much you screamed he did his best to stay strong, he did his best to reassure you how well you were doing. Though he finally felt like hr could breath again hearing his child cry.

A girl, a beautiful little girl, Simon has cried only a handful of times in his life and once his newborn was placed on his arms he couldn’t help but shed a few tears.

“My little girl, you’re finally here.”

+•+

Simon did his best to make sure you took it easy at home. He would change the diapers, feed her at night because he did not want to wake you. He felt like he was doing a good job at being a father.

Stepping near his daughters crib he slowly lifted her up, she was crying and not wanting to wake you he smiled for a moment cradling her to his chest. Sitting down in the rocking chair she let him grab a hold of his fingers, little sobs escaping her lips.

“Hush now bunny. Pop is gonna sing to you, now I may not have a beautiful voice like your mother but…we’ll my own mum used to sing me this song.”

Waking up to singing on the baby monitor was something you didn’t expect to happen, seeing that it was your husband was the one that was singing. You couldn’t help but melt watching him cradle her close.

Not wanting to interrupt the sweet moment you fell back asleep.

Simon Riley was nothing like his father, he was someone even better.

[misguidedasgardian]

What I was promised (part III)

MASTERLIST

Summary: Ben and you try to pick your baby’s name 

Warnings: Childbirth, implies forced marriage and kidnapping, hinted forced breeding, cursing, mentions of sexual workers (use of the word hooker), breastfeeding, might miss some warnings

Notes: I love these little snippets of their life together, even if Ben is an asshole, he truly loves the reader and their little family. This one is short and sweet

“That’s a hooker’s name” he said to you, with his big hand covering your baby girl’s ear. She was cuddled against his father’s chest while he walked around the room to make her stop crying. It had worked since she was sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the conversation her parents were having about finally naming her

“You had said that about the last 20 names I’ve proposed, how many sexual workers have you been with, uh Ben?” you asked teasingly, provoking him

“Hey, we are getting out of track here” he said hastlity, bouncing your daughter in his arms slowly, you just giggled, continuing to put her little clothes inside her bag, you were getting released today, to finally take your daughter home to meet her brother 

“She needs a good, proud name” he continued, looking down at her, “a name for a superhero” 

“Xena, the warrior princess” you teased

“Yes, sure, very funny” his flustered cheeks told you he also had less than honorable memories with the characters 

“Elizabeth, like the queen” you continued 

“She is from Britain” he said like you were betraying your country

“Daenerys Targaryen” you kept teasing. You had been at this for hours, throwing names left and right to see which one you both liked. Before the birth you had barely discussed it, he was so sure it was going to be a boy that you didn’t even talk about girl names, so here you were, 24 hours after the birth and still no clue. 

“The hot chick with the dragons? I’m in” 

“I was kidding” you muttered, looking at him raising one of your eyebrows, “What about… Diana? like wonder woman” you tried 

“It reminds me of Princess Diana and I don’t like that,” he continued. “I still shed a few tears every time I listen to Candle in the wind”

“Ok, ok I got it” you snapped. He probably saw Princess Diana on the flesh, “Our poor girl is going to be nameless” you muttered after a long sigh

“No she is not,” said Ben, caressing her little head. You stole a glance at him, looking at his daughter with such adoration you already forgave him for his reaction the moment she was born, he was totally, completely and irrevocably in love with his child. “we’ll find her a beautiful name, uh?” she was awake now, and looked up at his father, “Yes we will” he cooed childishly, “we’ll find you a beautiful and powerful name”

He moved around with her and she seemed to like it, since she cooed and didn’t cry, just enjoying his father’s embrace. You smiled warmly, when you woke up this morning Ben was sleeping right next to you, with your daughter in his arms, and today, he had barely let you hold her to feed her. 

You had thrown around your mother’s name, family names too, and nothing, nothing sounded right for her, and now you were trying names of famous persons, and still nothing sounded right. 

“I need to feed her Ben” you said gently, reaching with your arms as a sign for him to give you your daughter back, but he turned his back to you, ignoring you and shaking his head

“Let me hold my daughter woman, she is not crying” he said defensively

“You’ve had her all morning” you giggled, seating on the hospital bed

“She is a daddy’s girl, right sweety?” he cooed, “Yes you are, you are daddy’s little girl” he kept bouncing her around the room until she started getting fuzzy, and he, even reluctantly, handed the baby to you. You accomodated her against your chest releasing your nipple. She suckled inmediatly. Ben seated at your side, his eyes never leaving your daughter. He surrounded your shoulder with his arm, and kissed your shoulder softly. 

“Our daughter is so beautiful” he whispered against the skin of your shoulder 

“I agree” you giggled, “we make cute babies” 

“She looks just like you” he continued

“She has some mischief in her eyes, that’s all you” you answered back, making him chuckle. He dropped a lazy kiss.

“You look so hot feeding our baby” he growled against the skin of your shoulder, you giggled

“You had to ruin it, didn’t you?” you mocked, “remember tiger that we have 8 long weeks ahead of us”

“Ugh,” he whined. 

“I just gave birth to your baby” you muttered, impressed

“I know” he whispered, “you are so fucking amazing” You giggled, already accostumed to his horny demeanor, always so insatiable, even if you were certain you looked like shit right now. 

You both looked at your daughter feeding hungryly, only her cute sounds could be heard in the room. 

“I’m going to talk to the nurses about us getting released from this hellhole” he said, dropping one last kiss on your shoulder to rise from the bed and walk towards the exit.

You were already recuperated and ready to go, that was the silver lining about being a sup, incredible regeneration power. The doctors didn’t know about your powers, so they were all amazed about your recovery. it was always a fine line to walk, to live in hiding like Ben had made you live, you never knew who could be your friend or who could blow the whistle on you and alert Vought.

You sighed as you looked at your daughter, she was a carbon copy of Ben, only cuter, but she did have more resemblance to you rather than your son.

Your Son, he was so little yet that he didn’t have quite a clue of what was happening, he was barely 14 months old. Your son was being taken care of by a nanny you hired, you hoped that everything was going well. Ben still didn’t quite know how to use a fucking cellphone. 

“We are ready to go” announced Ben appearing again, you smiled, relieved.

“Let’s go home” you muttered 

Ben refused to put your baby on the car seat you had on the room, instead taking her in his arms to leave the room 

You grabbed his arm to be close to him and your daughter and your mind was swarmed with his thoughts, memories and above everything else, names he was concocting in his head

When one stood above everything else, you gasped

“Ben!” you exclaimed with a big smile

“Ugh, that power of yours is a pain in my ass” he grumbled

“It’s a beautiful name Ben” you whispered, kissing his cheek gently, “why didn’t you say something?”

“It’s silly” he grumbled

“It’s your mother’s name” you chastised gently

“That woman was a saint” he continued, “But I didn’t thought you’d like it”

“It's beautiful” you murmured, looking at your daughter, “Hey Elena” you cooed. She liked it, and it suited her, you decided. Ben leaned in and kissed the top of your head

“Thank you” he whispered

Taglist:

@danart501 @bxdbxtxh15 @lifeissomethingelse @ladystarkey @tzillas @immyowndefender @secretdreamlandmentality 

[shina913]

Coquet, Epilogue | JJK

Coquet, Epilogue

\ kō-​ˈket Definition: noun. a man who indulges in flirtation.

✫✫✫Coquet Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: Escort!JJK x Fem-reader

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: Fake-dating!AU; Strangers to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Warnings: established relationship; cussing; sexually explicit language; brief hints of penetrative sex; tooth-rotting fluff (these two are just so crazy for each other); a wild Yoongi appears!; JK in the shower because...🥴

Word count: 1,933K words

Summary: On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous.

A/N: You'll need to read the previous chapter for this to make sense. There are a few callbacks from older chapters as well 😅 I'm going to miss this couple so much! Thank you all for coming along for the ride. 🥰

“Jagiya! Let’s go!”

“Okay, hold on! Sorry, I happen to be cursed with the tiniest bladder ever!” You yell out from the bathroom. You washed your hands, dried them, then proceeded to adjust your dress, smoothing out any wrinkles.

You open the door to Jungkook leaning against the frame with a questioning look on his face.

You widen your eyes at him in silent indignance. “See? I told you, we still have plenty of time to spare before we need to get to City Hall.”

“I’m fully aware of that.”

You scoffed. “Okay, so? Why do you keep rushing me then?”

He leans in, dangerously close to your face. “I couldn’t take my eyes off your ass since you slipped that dress on.”

Your stomach clenches instinctively while your pulse quickens. You sank your teeth into your lower lip.

You slowly grabbed a hold of his tie and started to twist it around your hand, tugging on it. “Well? Are you just going to stand here staring at it or are you going to do something about it?”

******

“Shit! It’s my mom.” You scramble to answer the phone. “Ma?”

“Excuse me? Don’t you ‘ma’ me! Where are you guys? You should have been here half an hour ago!” Your mom barks on the other line.

“Uh—w-we’re almost done here. Then we’ll hop in the car and go.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, well, how much longer? The county clerk might be calling Taehyung and Jennie’s names soon!”

You glanced up at Jungkook who continued to slowly and torturously push into you while smiling mischievously. You bit down on your lips to keep yourself from moaning.

“S-seven minutes and we’ll get on the road.” He flashed a grin before dipping his head to nudge your chin up to suck on your neck.

“That’s oddly specific,” your mom remarks.

“Mom, I gotta go. We’ll be done quicker when I’m off the phone.”

“Alright, alright. See you soon. Bye!” She hangs up.

“Fuck, I never thought that call would end—hhmmmfuck,” you moaned once he thrust into you, quick and deep.

“Well, chop-chop—we’re in a time crunch, remember?” His mouth curves into a wide smile while he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure.

******

You and Jungkook arrive seconds before the justice of the peace walks out of the elevator at the top of the marble steps of the City Hall rotunda. Taehyung and Jennie stood side-by-side–him in a simple, gray suit and white button-up and her in a simple, ankle-length, fitted white dress, accented by a birdcage-style veil that was pinned to her hair with a trio of fresh gardenias that matched her modest bouquet and Taehyung’s boutonniere.

They exchanged vows and rings–which your dad carried since he served as best man. The ceremony was short and sweet but no less meaningful. Everyone cheered and a few of you even shed some tears after their first kiss as a married couple.

You came up to hug Taehyung tightly, extremely happy for him. You also move to give Jennie a hug, officially welcoming her to the family. You saw that same look in Taehyung’s eyes when he told you that he was ‘stupidly happy.’ You were happy that they figured things out and rebuilt their relationship. He and Jennie loved each other very much.

The reception was equally low-key. There were only about 30 people in attendance–close family and friends only. It was held at the couple’s favorite restaurant–which served galbi, samgyeopsal, that you can get with a comforting bowl of janchi guksu.

Right before dinner, you were milling around the banquet room. Guests held glasses of beer, some had wine while they chatted and joked around. It was all very relaxed.

“Geez, look at you. You’re such a goner,” Mindi says tauntingly as she sidles up to you. “You get all heart-eyes when you look at Jungkook. It’s so cute.” She pinches your cheek in a tiny way.

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, unaware that you had been staring at him from afar while he’s in deep conversation with your dad and Taehyung. “Aish, don’t worry, unnie. I know he’s just as crazy in love with you, too.”

Jungkook stops for a moment and finally locks eyes with you. He gives you a wink before turning his attention back to his conversation.

Your stomach does a little somersault. Mindi’s cackles filled the air. “What did I tell you, unnie? craay-zzy!!!“

“You’re one to talk! Look at you, bringing your own wedding date,” you retorted, shifting your gaze at her boyfriend, Yoongi, who was currently chatting with Auntie Dahlia and Jimin.

You’d been privy to their relationship’s progress. Mindi often talked about how much she swooned at how Yoongi dotes on her. He even went so far as to move closer to her, cutting his travel time by over two hours.

“Trying to get in good with the in-laws, already, I see?”

She groans. “I hate how eomma is head-over-heels for him. She’s always asking when he’s going to come around next, always wanting him to stay for dinner.”

“And that’s bad?” You try to stifle your laughs.

“Not really, but…” she sighed deeply. “I just know that she can smell his bachelor blood in the water. I swear, she’s ready to pounce on him especially now that Jennie and Tae are married!” She then slips into a voice that resembles her mom’s. “Aish…Mindi-yaaah, you’re going to die alone! Don’t let this one go!”

You fall into absolute stitches.

She laughs and then shakes her head. “I wish Jimin-oppa would just start dating someone already so it takes the pressure off me,” Mindi says. “Yoongi and I just want to be chill.”

“Then just be chill. I’ll talk to Auntie Dee. I got you.” You nudged at her.

She smiled at you. “Thanks, unnie. I better go and rescue my man before eomma eats him alive.” A few seconds after she walks away, you return to your seat to check your phone for any emails. Jungkook saunters over to you.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you.” You tilt your chin up to him and he presses his lips onto yours for a kiss before he sits. “That was a nice ceremony, huh?” You remarked.

“It was,” he agrees. “And they look happy. That’s all that matters.”

You hummed. “I think they were meant to do something small and intimate like this–instead of a huge party.”

He lowered his voice and whispered in your ear. “Is that what you want, too?”

Your eyebrow quirks and you slowly turn your attention to him. You’d been together just shy of a year and you’d casually talked about the future but hadn’t made any concrete plans since he was still working through a couple more years of his residency. He ended up choosing to specialize in internal medicine.

“Are you trying to ask me something?” You wonder out loud.

He shrugs, his expression completely ambiguous to you. “I’m just curious.”

“‘Curious’, huh?”

He gave you a nod while still anticipating your answer.

You sighed, then smiled at him. “If and when the time comes, all I want…is for you to be at the end of that aisle, waiting to meet me. Anything else is–icing on the cake.”

“Duly noted,” he says cryptically, looking away while sipping on his drink.

You keep eyeing him questioningly. “Will you also be taking notes while we’re at Mayumi’s wedding next month?”

He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. “Hmm. I might.” You smiled softly while shaking your head.

After a moment, you stop and stare at him quietly again until he senses your eyes boring holes into him. “Can I help you with something, miss?” He gave you a cocky, flirtatious smile.

You tilted your head to the side, eyes squinting. “Are you real?” You ask softly.

With a chuckle, he picks up your hand and presses it to his chest. You feel his steady heartbeat against your palm. “I am.”

Your cheeks start to hurt from smiling. “Can you kiss me? Please?” Your tone is soft and affectionate.

Without hesitation, he does. 

He kissed you as if you were the best thing he’s ever tasted. A taste that he constantly craved and was helplessly addicted to. You lived for it.

“I love you,” he utters, nuzzling his nose to yours.

“I love you, too.”

You knew that you were right where you belonged.

******

You dared anyone to come up with a more awe-inspiring sight than Jeon Jungkook taking a shower.

It amazed you that he could be so matter-of-fact about running his hands over those perfectly defined slabs of muscle. Through the misted glass of his–now also your–bathroom shower. 

After over a year into dating, moving in with him was, as you both had said before, all but a foregone conclusion.

It started off with a toothbrush, followed by a hair dryer. A few pairs of underwear–only because he conveniently hid them from you a few times after you spent the night. Next thing you knew, you had your own drawer which eventually led to one whole dedicated side of his walk-in closet.

You even got used to the mattress that he kept on the living room floor and the bedroom. You found them odd at first. He reasoned that he kept it for convenience—so he could fall asleep wherever he wanted. You came around after he fucked you good on both of them. It was definitely convenient, alright.

You watched the rivulets of soapy water run down the ridges of his abdomen, flowing to the length of his legs.

Reaching out, his hand swipes at the condensation a few times, revealing his face and breaking your reverie. His brow arched in curiosity.

“What? I can’t enjoy the show?” Your tone was playful. The scent of his body wash mixing with the steam that was filling the bathroom, teased your senses and stirred your body into delirium.

You licked your lips, stifling a moan when he casually stroked the length of his cock.

“It’s an interactive show,” he said, his eyes warm with amusement. “Want to join me?”

“You’re such a fiend,” you laughed. In reality, your thighs were still slick with traces of his cum beneath your robe, since you were lucky enough to wake up to his desire.

“Only for you.”

“Ding! Right answer, Dr. Jeon.”

He smirked. “I deserve a prize.”

You moved away from the threshold and stepped closer. “What would you suggest?”

“Whatever you like.” He answered with a devilish lilt to his voice. That, in itself, was a prize for you, too.

Tempting as it was, you knew that he was scrubbing in for a big procedure today and that the chief of surgery was expected to attend at the gallery. “I don’t think we’ll have enough time to give you what you deserve, baby. And I’d hate to cut things short when they’re just starting to get interesting.”

You set your left hand on the glass. The ring on your finger clinked against the surface. “Maybe we can revisit after your shift tonight? You, me…and whatever I want to do to you?”

He shifted in the stall, faced you head-on, pulling the shower door open. His heated gaze slid so intensely over your face–you practically felt it. His features hardly gave away what he was thinking. But his eyes…they revealed tenderness, vulnerability, and love.

“I’m all yours,” he said so quietly, you saw them more than heard them.

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Yes,” you agreed. “You are.”#

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[delirious-donna]

Crying Isn’t A Weakness [Obito Uchiha]

an: based on this ask, or at least this is where the idea was born. I had planned to do this as drabble with a few characters but Obito simply stole the show. I’m considering doing a second part, maybe with Kakashi, but we’ll see…

pairing: Obito Uchiha x female reader

warnings: post war Obito, canon divergent, AU where Obito survived, angst, mentions of manipulation and negative feelings, fluff, tears but mainly happy, implied virginity loss (Obito), mentions of nightmares and a lil PTSD

Masterlist

There were two moments where Obito cried in your presence.

The first was the night that you accepted him into your bed for more than just his warmth and company but as your lover. Having grown closer slowly over a year or so, you knew he was the person you wanted to be with for the rest of your life, yet it had to be approached carefully - delicately.

Obito struggled with accepting even the simplest acts of kindness or friendship, he believed himself to be a monster that would spend the rest of his days repenting for his sins and never finding atonement.

You didn’t see it quite as bluntly.

You knew his story, how could you not? Every person in Konoha and many other lands knew of what had transpired during the Third Great Shinobi War, even if some of the more shocking details were later covered with some degree of success. Where others might have judged harshly and did, you cocked your head and dared to question it. Things were never quite as straightforward as they were presented.

He had been a pawn, a mere tool for people far more vile to use at their leisure. Obito was a man that had everything taken from him, manipulated into thinking his best friend killed the girl he loved and shed all allegiance to his home as a result. A far too concise analysis of everything that had brought him to this point but where was the need in listing every dirty trick and evil machination? It wouldn’t change anything…

You took these facts, studied them carefully, questioned him when he allowed it and made your own conclusions.

Baffled by your persistence, at the innocent way you stared at him when he told you of horrors that should have curled your toes and sent you screaming into the hills, Obito found you endlessly curious.

Whilst he had been hesitant at your first offerings of friendship, the pull of your personality was too great to be denied and soon enough he was a regular visitor to your home. It started with home-cooked meals shared over a dining table and moved into takeouts devoured on a sofa, all whilst you conversed like you had known each other for years rather than only a few simple months.

Obito had stared, wide eyes shining like polished coals and slack-jawed as you touched his white arm for the first time. Your touch was so gentle that it almost felt like it wasn’t there. You said you were curious if that side of him was colder and you smiled up at him when you realised that wasn’t the case. That smile had been the beginning of the end for Obito but unaccustomed to these feelings, he simply didn’t notice.

It hadn’t stopped there, you explored the deep river of scars over his face and didn’t flinch or act disgusted. It had brought a lump to his throat but no tears flowed, those came a month later.

You shared your bed with the reclusive Uchiha on more than one occasion, in fact, it started to become a regular occurrence. Late nights talking about everything and nothing, spent playing board games and laughing when he called you a dirty cheater. It made sense to stop over, and it felt right to be pressed into his side.

To sense his breathing slow and even out, feel the warmth of his pale skin brush so gingerly over yours. The way he whispered goodnight to you in the pitch black room when he thought you to be asleep and how his voice sounded different in those moments, almost reverential.

He never reached out for more, at least not whilst awake and yet each morning the pair of you would be a tangle of limbs and twisted bedsheets.

And so, you found your courage one night. Taking his face in your small hands as he gazed at you in question, letting him watch and understand your intentions so that he could pull away if he wanted, but he would never want to do that.

That first kiss had been slow and patient, learning and tentative. You guided his hands to your waist, showed him it was alright to touch you - that you wanted more of him and he was a mess.

Obito was truly mystified by your advances, struggling to comprehend why you would choose him when there were so many far better suitors for one as pretty and special as you.

His emotions were fragile, like a baby animal learning to walk for the first time, very new and overwhelming. As things had progressed, grown heavier and hotter, he let those feelings lead him. Tried to ignore the flutter of fear in his heart that you would reject him at any moment, tell him it was all a big joke and laugh in his face.

That moment never came as this was no laughing matter. The bed you had shared so many times before seemed smaller when you tumbled onto the sheets in states of undress. This was all new to him but you never teased or mocked him, only led him through everything with endless patience and such trust that the defences around his heart withered into nothing.

You were changing him, forcing him to address the emotions that had simmered below the surface since he had started to get to know you and whilst it was painful in ways, it was a necessary pain. Something that would change the course of his future.

He wouldn’t be alone in a world that hated him, maybe even he might come to realise that there were still people that sought out his company and didn’t wish to see him endlessly persecuted.

Friends.

A future.

A lover.

That moment of true joining, when he felt so connected to you that his heart might as well dwell within your chest, was when he cried. A slow trickle of tears caught in the deep crevices of his scars and blurred his vision. He didn’t deserve you, you were too good to be chained to him for the rest of your days.

“Why me?”

His voice wavered, managing to speak through the haggard lump in his throat as you squeezed around him and adjusted to being one with him.

To Obito, you looked like an angel spread out on the sheets, so perfect and what made you more perfect was the understanding and compassion you showed him at every turn.

Eyes shining with love, you cupped his face as you had done earlier. Stroked your thumbs over his cheeks and brushed away his tears with a sincere smile.

“Because you deserve to see the kinder side of humanity and I want to be the one to do that. Now, love me like I know you do.”

He had. Long into the night, exploring the carnal delight of two people that loved and trusted one another. There had been no more tears, only smiles and laughter, for what fun is intimacy and love-making without humour?

The second time Obito cried happened six months later.

For you it was trivial but for him - it meant the world.

No longer did he fear being too close to you or holding you during bedtime, often draping you over his chest so that he could ensure you were as close to his heart as possible.

This particular night had seemed no different, unwinding before bed and going through your nightly routines. You were tired, more so than usual and fell asleep content in the arms of your lover.

All was calm, all was well… until it wasn’t.

Nightmares tore through your psyche with deadly precision. Images of the worst of your fears playing out in technicolour and you were powerless. Frozen in place, doomed to watch your loved ones suffer in the most horrendous ways and you awoke with a scream.

Cold sweat poured down your skin, ice thick in your blood and the pounding in your ears drowned out the alarmed calls from Obito who was sitting up in the bed and looking around for danger.

You did the thing that came instinctively to you at that moment. Throwing yourself with quite some force into Obito’s chest and making yourself as small as possible as he grunted from the impact but wound his arms around you hastily.

He was terrified but the more the fog of sleep dissipated from his brain, the more he understood. Nightmares were nothing new to him, for years he had been racked with them every night and only recently had he managed long stretches without waking suddenly with terror in his heart. A feat that was entirely down to you.

Obito showed you the same patience that you had always shown him, stroking your hair and humming gently. He rocked so slowly from side to side as you sobbed your heart out and clung to him like he was your anchor in his world, and it hit him.

You felt safe with him. In moments of sheer terror, you chose him to protect you, to comfort you. He knew you loved him, that fact had been made clear long ago but this was new and almost more.

It had been what felt like an eternity since he believed anyone relied upon him. Decades perhaps since those days with his team and his sensei. There you were making him feel more like his old self than he thought possible.

He could protect you and he would. Obito would cherish you, keep you safe and you could always depend on him. His stifled sobs went unnoticed as you calmed yourself, his face pressed tightly into your hair so you couldn’t witness the hot tears that stained his cheeks.

They were happy tears but you didn’t need to see them when you were vulnerable. That word struck a nerve, he had been vulnerable for so long and now… he was breaking free from that feeling.

Obito told you later the next day, making sure you knew how much he appreciated your faith and trust. He admitted to crying because you knew there was more to his words and it was the sweetest admission.

“Crying isn’t a weakness, it simply demonstrates that you are human. That you are a good man with a heart that is healing after so much pain.”

[nightfayre]

[fic] moral of the story

a/n: my take on the future reconciliation between tianshan following the latest update (ch. 371, maybe?). I hope you enjoy! <3

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, non-sexual aftercare, making up, guilt and affirmation, getting together, first kiss, neck kisses, sharing a bed, cuddling, fluff, mutual hatred for she li, a few tears are indeed shed, the fish/earrings are in here too!

tianshan, rated T, ~4100 words

***

He Tian takes him home — to his place. Guan Shan, wordlessly, follows.

It’s just that simple, and decided rather quickly. It’s not like Guan Shan can go back to his own apartment and face his mother in this state. Plus they’re both exhausted in their own ways; hurt, badly, in their own ways, too. It’s an odd, new thing for Guan Shan to allow He Tian to approach in silence — to take the fish bag and bloodied jacket from him with no eye contact — because he’s never had someone he could talk to without using any words at all. After all, fear and anger are easy emotions to recognise, to transmit. People flaunt them in the open for everyone to see like red flags in the wind.

But regret? Guilt? Yearning? A different story. Everyone holds them tight to their chest until they’re backed in a corner and forced to relinquish them.  The consequences of delicate passion are things no one wants to bear. And so Guan Shan wonders what the hollowness in his own chest as He Tian holds the apartment door open for him, Guan Shan walking inside with an arm wrapped around his bruised abdomen, He Tian following in silence, might mean.

He Tian’s place is cold tonight, more so than usual. Guan Shan has become used to the goosebumps that prick his forearms when he cooks in the kitchen or sits on the couch, but he never had the intention to complain about it because it isn’t his home, nor his money. Still, he’d caught He Tian, once, fiddling with the thermostat when Guan Shan had shrugged on his uniform jacket absentmindedly. It was perhaps one of the most self-conscious things Guan Shan has ever seen him do.

But tonight, He Tian shows no such reserved kindness. Guan Shan sits himself on a kitchen chair with a wince, earrings placed on the table, and listens to the front door slam shut, house keys dropped to the floor, heavy footsteps as He Tian flicks lights in the kitchen, sets down the fish and jacket, and starts rummaging for supplies. Swallowing, Guan Shan looks at the shoes still on He Tian’s feet.

“You’ll get the floor dirty,” he mutters. His throat is sore from coughing up river water and yelling profanities, and his voice reflects it off the bare walls.

He Tian doesn’t respond; still doesn’t look at him, either, as he travels back and forth between the bedroom, guest bathroom and kitchen before setting down what he finds on the dining table beside Guan Shan: towelettes, bandages, cotton balls, antibacterial cream, a bowl of water. He dips his chin towards it all. His face is a statue’s, cold and stone.

“Shower,” He Tian tells him, voice low. “There’re clean clothes on the bathroom counter. And then come out and clean up the worst injuries. We’ll decide if we need to call a doctor afterwards.”

“I don’t— I won’t need a doctor,” Guan Shan says, looking up at him. “Nothing’s broken, just bruised. It’s... superficial.”

He Tian opens his mouth as if to reply — to argue — but seems to decide against it. “Shower,” he says again instead and steps to the side to let Guan Shan get up and follow through. But Guan Shan doesn’t move. They look at each other.

“You haven’t taken off your shoes,” says Guan Shan.

He Tian doesn’t look down to confirm. “I haven’t.”

“Where are you gonna go?”

He Tian only looks at him.

Hollowness, Guan Shan learns, can actually be a filling thing. He feels it extend beyond his chest, up his throat, numbing his toes and fingers. He thinks he sees He Tian’s gaze flicker to where Guan Shan’s Adam’s apple shifts with a dry swallow.

“I have to,” He Tian tells him when the silence stretches. “You know I do. If it’s not you then it’s gonna be someone else, and I’m sick of watching him dance around and pick his fucking battles when I know I can put an end to it. I warned him before, and he ignored it. He did this shit on purpose.”

“Because it’s what he wants,” Guan Shan grits. “He wants the fuckin’ cat-and-mouse game. He wants to get his hands fuckin’ dirty and bloody and mangled because it’s all just a game to him. If you—” His eyes, involuntarily, flick to the fish. Its small black body is motionless at the water’s surface. Maybe it would’ve survived if he’d just left it at the pet store, if he didn’t intervene. Here, it died alone.

Guan Shan takes a concentrated breath and looks away. “You can’t. It’ll make everything so much fuckin’ worse. Just don’t.”

He Tian breathes out. “Mo Guan Shan—”

“I’m the one who got the fuckin’ shit beat out of me, okay?” Guan Shan snaps, angry, because He Tian never just listens, never thinks about anyone but himself. “I’m the one who has to tell my teachers that my dog ate my fuckin’ homework — and textbooks and journals and pencil bag and calculator — on Monday. So don’t fuckin’ stand there and try to be some kind of dark hero because I already fuckin’ lost. Look at me. Nothing is gonna reverse this or get through that psychopath’s head and I don’t have the energy to fuckin’ try. So just pull your head out of your high horse’s ass and just—”

“I don’t—”

“Stay. Please. I— I just want water and a hot shower and to know that you’re where I can— where I need you to be. Just don’t. Stay here.”

With me, he thinks, unbidden.

Guan Shan’s ears ring with the silence that follows. He feels utterly exhausted, shoulders sagged over, t-shirt sticking to his damp skin. His gaze tracks the heavy circles under He Tian’s eyes and the taut pull in his jaw muscles. He knows letting He Tian go looking for trouble right now would be catastrophic. He’s too unstable, the look in his dark eyes not really here or there. If he left, Guan Shan doesn’t know if he would fear for He Tian’s life or She Li’s — or both. He feels sick.

Bracing himself, Guan Shan begins to stand. He mutters, “I’m about to pass out in this fuckin’ chair so I’m gonna shower, and if you aren’t here when I come back then I’m goin’ to find you and drag you back my-fuckin’-self. Try me.”

He Tian eyes his injuries up and down. “I think I can afford to,” he says dryly. But the jagged darkness in his eyes has been sanded down to something less intense, and Guan Shan only watches him a moment more before pushing past him to the bathroom.

***

When the last of the pink-tinted water washes down the drain and he towels himself dry, Guan Shan comes back out. He Tian is sitting at the edge of the bed with only the floor lamp casting a pale yellow light in the apartment. He’s looking out the windows with hunched shoulders, and Guan Shan can hardly differentiate his body from the cloudy night sky. But the sparse moonlight catches strands of his hair just-so, gleaming them a muted blue, and Guan Shan wonders if He Tian has ever seen himself like this: an inch away from ethereal, untouchable, even in this poor state of events. It’s impossible. But maybe, Guan Shan thinks, he should keep this image to himself. A secret to indulge in whenever his mind wanders. Parts of He Tian only for him to know and see.

“I need help,” Guan Shan says, his voice startlingly loud in the night’s quiet. After a moment, He Tian’s head turns a fraction in his direction. “Some of the scrapes reopened ‘cause of the water, and I can’t reach the ones on my back.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. Guan Shan finds the same kitchen chair again and starts unwinding the bandaging, wetting the towelette. Eventually He Tian joins him, pulling up a chair. They sit face-to-face in the near-dark, their knees almost touching, their eyes not meeting. Guan Shan becomes very self-conscious of his bare torso; he’d forgone the t-shirt He Tian left him because it covered too many of the injuries, but now he wishes he’d just worked around it. When he glances up to hand He Tian the wet towel, he finds He Tian only looking at his clasped hands between his knees.

Still, He Tian takes it as Guan Shan turns around to straddle his chair. A moment passes before he hears He Tian shift closer — and then his breath catches when he feels a warm palm resting above his left hip, steadying him, as fingers trail the edges of the stinging wounds.

“The pressure will hurt more than the shower did,” comes He Tian’s voice. Guan Shan thinks he can feel his breath on his nape. “Just stay still and I’ll work quickly.”

He Tian proves to be right. Guan Shan clenches his jaw against the uncomfortable feeling of the rough towel pressing against the cuts, cleaning up leaking blood. But He Tian gives him a small squeeze of warning on his flank before doing anything that invokes notable pain, and before long, the last of the wounds is smeared with the cream and secured in a bandage. The warmth is retracted from his hip.

Slowly, Guan Shan stands to turn around in his chair. Already, the numbing properties of the antibacterial is replacing the spikes of pain on his back with odd tingles. When he’s settled again, he pauses as he watches He Tian re-wet the towel and prepare more bandages.

“I can do the rest myself,” Guan Shan tells him. He hates how awkward he sounds, how uncertain. He Tian is volatile, and so is Guan Shan, and neither of them know how to approach one another without leaving scorched ground and burned flora. But now, Guan Shan wonders if there’s anything left to burn.

He Tian replies, “I’m already here, and my hands need to be doing something if I’m under house arrest.”

Guan Shan frowns, his torn lip pulling. “It’s not house arrest. It's a preventative measure.”

He Tian huffs with little humour. “Preventing what, exactly?”

“You, being fucking expelled. Or sued or— legally punished. I know what you’re capable of, asshole, and I don’t need you to make more problems for me over somethin’ so fuckin’ stupid.”

He Tian frowns. “They made you jump a bridge. They assaulted—”

“And you’ve got nothin’ to prove by avenging that shit,” Guan Shan cuts in. “He’ll only come back with twice the goddamn motivation, trust me. You don’t know him like I fuckin’ do.”

He Tian weighs the towel in his hand. “Nothing to prove,” he repeats, low, then reaches out. Guan Shan instinctively closes his eyes as the towel stings the cut circling his neck. He tried not to look at it in the bathroom mirror. He knows exactly what it looks like. Knows what it feels like. The final blow from She Li, the finishing statement. It’ll scar, if only a little. It’ll live with him.

It’s only when She Li’s grin starts to burn behind his eyelids — “We’re the same kind, you and me.” — does Guan Shan open his eyes. And then he stops breathing.

He Tian’s hand is still on his neck, the towel dripping down Guan Shan’s collarbone. He looks frozen in time, chest barely rising and falling as he looks at Guan Shan’s wounds, head tilted down. But Guan Shan can still see that his eyes are red, just as they were when he found him, and his lashes are wet with moisture. He watches as a single tear escapes his dark lash line, dripping soundlessly onto his leg without leaving a trail. But no other tears come; He Tian breathes, and blinks, and the worst of it fades away in a minute. It’s like it never happened.

The towel drops from Guan Shan’s neck. He Tian leans back in his chair, wetting his lips as he looks at the floor, and says nothing.

And then, finally, he sighs.

“I can practically hear your thoughts.”

Guan Shan blinks. “I’m not... What do you think I’m thinking?”

He Tian sniffs, swiping at his nose briefly, then smiles without humour. “Here he goes again, making it all about him, making me deal with it when I have my own shit going on.”

Guan Shan frowns. Deal with it? “That’s... not even remotely fuckin’ close. Everything’s shit right now, and you’re allowed to be...”

He trails off. He doesn’t know what He Tian has been allowed to be; doesn’t know what he thinks He Tian should be in this moment. But no matter what, he knows that He Tian is being it right now, with him, sheltered in privacy and intimacy. It makes Guan Shan’s chest tighten painfully.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen me like that, either,” he says quietly, remembering a warm embrace, hands cupping his wet cheeks. He’s thought of it often; he’d never had it before.

But He Tian shakes his head. “It’s not the same.”

“How?”

A scoff; disgust aimed back at its speaker. “You cry when you’re hurt, or when you’ve hurt someone else, and I don’t— I should’ve— well, no, even before this happened,” he gestures flippantly to Guan Shan’s wounds, expression tight, “I should’ve known. Should’ve seen that we were fucking up your work schedule, taking all your time. Should’ve known that the way I was... the way I handled things between us would end up this way. And I did. I did know because I see myself. I know who I am and what I do, but it was so much fucking easier to assume you would be the one to sort through it and figure it out so that I could do what I want with— us. I just assumed that you would make the time because I wanted it, and you did, and you paid the price in the end while the rest of us fucked off without a word.”

He shakes his head, jaw tight. “And then you paid it again with She fucking Li. And I — none of us were there. You were upset, and it was justified, but I still fucking thought it was unfair to me. Like I didn’t get a good enough heads-up to figure out a half-ass solution before it was too late and I became the one to blame. My mother always said my father is constantly papering over the cracks, and I…” A pause. “After you blocked us, Jian Yi said you were barely even friends with any of us to begin with and I still...”

He stops trying to reach for words, abrupt. Guan Shan can’t help but wonder if this is hard for him: to talk and not just do. Because when He Tian does just do, people let him. They marvel at his kindness. They brush off his rudeness. They attribute his good days to him enjoying their company and his bad days to oh, I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that.

And Guan Shan is no exception. He lets He Tian stick around. He lets He Tian pull him in. He lets him treat him like shit and then make up for it with money or protection or a smile, and Guan Shan is weak to it. He’s weak to him. Guan Shan also knows himself — he knows who he is and what he does, and so he knows he lets He Tian get ahold of him at any given moment. He knows others envy him for the attention He Tian gives him and he knows something irreplaceable in him would break if he ever truly lost it.

He knows that despite everything, he will always follow He Tian home.

“That’s not true,” says Guan Shan. “None of that. Since She Li, you and those idiots are the only people I have, and you know that. And obviously I knew the whole fuckin’ time that I was getting into deep shit with the Auntie, but I still made the choices I did. So… getting pissed at you guys was wrong. I was just… It’s always easier to have someone to blame that isn’t yourself.”

He Tian smiles coldly. “I don’t think it’s so wrong to blame me, too.”

“I agree,” Guan Shan says. For a split second, He Tian’s brows draw together, unconscious, almost a wince. Guan Shan inhales slowly, then continues, “But not for everything. We haven’t been good. To each other. But... it was still okay enough for me to put up with it because I wanted to. I figured it out every time you three got in my way because I wanted it, too. And I— I know it sounds so fuckin’ stupid and not at all what I act like when you’re around but it’s easier because when shit like this does happen, I’m…”

Prepared. Emotionally, physically, to lose you.

Guan Shan exhales, sharp. “Moral of the story: it’s everyone’s fuckin’ fault. Okay?” he mutters, looking down. “I just— want to stop pointing fingers. I’ll find a new job. Go back to normal. What’s done is done.” He shakes his head, frowning. “So can we just… move on?”

It takes a moment, but then He Tian’s response comes in the form of warmth grazing Guan Shan’s jawline. Guan Shan follows the urging of the fingers upwards until his eyes meet He Tian’s. He’s hard to see in the dark and Guan Shan tells himself that dropping his gaze to He Tian’s mouth unaware is just a mistake that he quickly corrects. But He Tian doesn’t miss it; he never does. This time, however, he has the mercy to not comment on it.

“Let me finish this, then,” He Tian murmurs instead, shifting the towel back in hand. On his cheek, He Tian’s thumb grazes along his skin. “Lift your chin.”

It’s as good of an answer as any. Guan Shan complies, tilting his head to the side and feeling his wounds pull at themselves. He shuts his eyes as the towel returns to its duties, but this time for a different reason. The relief in his chest is a full-body experience, like the warmth of a campfire spreading across skin, its smoke clinging to his hair. He hardly feels the sting of his cuts; it’s replaced by the pressure of He Tian’s gentle prodding, the quiet sound of him breathing, the hand that has found a resting place on his thigh. One by one the wounds on his face and neck are tended to, empty bandage wrappers falling by their bare feet on the floor.

Guan Shan rolls his head to the other side as He Tian ministers another swipe of cream, and just as Guan Shan is about to ask how much more is left — I wasn’t beaten that bad, was I? — his eyes flit open as he feels a brush of hair against his cheek, a displacement of air that smells like He Tian, and a soft warmness pressed to the underside of his jaw. Guan Shan doesn’t move. He only breathes as He Tian’s mouth moves against his throat, carefully avoiding the dressings like a maze, a hand coming up to caress the other side of Guan Shan’s face. He exhales, dizzy and warm, as He Tian’s tongue swipes against his rapid pulse, tilting into the hand cupping his jaw so that He Tian can reach more of his neck, moving steadily as a hand travels to find the burning skin of his abdomen.

“He Tian,” Guan Shan whispers, eyes falling shut, fingers gripping at his shirt, pulling him in and in. He Tian’s breathing has become a bit shallow, hot puffs against Guan Shan’s skin, and strands of hair tickle Guan Shan’s cheek as He Tian shakes his head, pressing his mouth to his collarbone.

“’m sorry,” he says into him, muffled. It’s so quiet that Guan Shan would’ve missed it if it weren’t for the fact that He Tian is pressed against him, his voice a heavy vibration that travels through Guan Shan like electricity in a live wire. Guan Shan puts a hand on his shoulder and pulls back to look at him. Silenced, He Tian looks back.

Guan Shan runs his hand against the side of his neck, tracing the tan skin there. “You should be,” he tells him, and the smile they share is brief and warm before their mouths are meeting, at first tentatively, but then Guan Shan wraps himself into He Tian, mouth falling open, and is kissed and kissed and kissed until he’s flushed and breathless and his.

***

Later, when Guan Shan finally comes back to himself as he straddles He Tian’s lap in his chair, forehead pressed against his shoulder as a warm hand traces shapes on his back, He Tian mumbles against his temple, “It’s late.”

Guan Shan nods. He’s exhausted and sore, albeit content. He doesn’t even want to know what time it is, nor how much time they lost in each other.

“Where do you want to sleep?”

Guan Shan snorts. “One kiss and you’re already expectin’ me to spend the night, huh?”

He Tian huffs a laugh. “More than one kiss, first of all. Second of all, we both need rest more than anything else right now. I’ll behave.”

“Mmh,” Guan Shan hums flatly, unconvinced. He tries not to imagine what it might be like if they weren’t so torn up. Instead, he says, “I don’t think I’m gonna sleep well anyway. Too much shit to think about, too many fuckin’ bruises on my body.”

“In that case, there’s your answer.” Gently, He Tian pats his back and Guan Shan sits back to look at him. “To the bed, then,” He Tian says, jerking his chin. He reaches up to run a thumb under Guan Shan’s eye as if to erase the inevitable bags there. “It’ll be better for your injuries than the couch.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not the one that jumped off a bridge and then got jumped. The couch’ll be fine.”

“You were sittin’ outside in the cold for hours, waiting. You’re not necessarily in the best shape either, idiot.”

He Tian hums, amused. “Is that the excuse you’re going with?”

Guan Shan swallows, feeling the burn of his ears. “Do I need a better one?”

“Absolutely not,” He Tian says, a gleam in his eye. “I’ll even let you pick your side first.”

“Oh, aren’t I just so goddamn lucky,” Guan Shan rolls his eyes, then begins to climb off him to do just that. Cool sheets and a warm body sounds incredible and he can’t resist the sleep pulling at his eyes any longer. But before he’s able to call it a night, He Tian stops him with a hand.

“One last thing,” he says, oddly serious. “I don’t know where you got it, but… the fish. It’s dead, I checked. Do you want me to flush it?”

Guan Shan shakes his head, swallowing. “No. I think… I think I’m gonna bury it somewhere. It feels wrong to just…”

He Tian, for all that he is, doesn’t question it. He nods. “I’ll put it by the door and we can do it tomorrow morning. The earrings, too. We can get new ones.”

For some reason, Guan Shan feels a sharp sting in the corners of his eyes at the words. Throat closing up, he nods then turns and ventures to the bed as He Tian moves the fish, puts his bloody jacket in a hamper, and shuts off the lights. Guan Shan slides himself under the covers, every intake of breath smelling of He Tian, the sheets cool against his cheek. Tomorrow, he knows, he will have to face the frantic questioning of his mom, and he’ll be looking over his shoulder every time he goes outside, and he’ll have to try and figure out what the fuck he’s gonna do about his burned backpack and missing phone.

But none of that matters right now. Tonight, He Tian settles himself beneath the sheets beside him, the bed dipping slightly, and Guan Shan finds himself face-to-face with him on the pillows. They look at each other in the dark, gazes searching, before Guan Shan closes his eyes first, exhaustion taking over. He feels a rhythmic stroking of fingers through his hair as He Tian crowds close, pulling him against his long body. His warmth is real, and true, and Guan Shan is glad his eyes are closed because the wetness is building unbidden and overwhelming.

And even if they weren’t, Guan Shan would still slip them shut because He Tian’s love doesn’t need to be seen to be felt — and, god, Guan Shan has been so stupidly numb to it for too fucking long.

***

thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, PLEASE consider reblogging/liking/replying! it would be of so much help to me <3

have a great rest of your day!

[amane-by-together]

Umbrella for the Autumn Rain || Teru Minamoto

genre: ???

pairing: teru minamoto x female! reader

summary: teru and [name] used to be close as children until years go by [name]'s inferiority complex got the best of her making her avoid teru. will she finally face head-on to her childhood friend?

Unforgivable.

[Name] watched from afar while Teru slains the supernatural so flawlessly, he moves his katana as if it was a part of him. Teru is an expert when it comes to exorcising evil spirits which envied her since she cannot do the same as him. He can even produce black lightning that seemed almost impossible to do.

Teru was her childhood friend. Both of their families knew each other due to being exorcists. The two of them had worked together, exorcising countless supernaturals until the present time. Practically, they grew up together yet how come Teru was better than her?

As [Name] notices his excellency throughout the years, she decides to distance herself from Teru to improve her skills as an exorcist by herself and hoping to surpass him one day. Teru and [Name] often work late at night, depending on which type of disturbance they were tasked to vanish. No matter how many days she trained to master her skills, Teru was always one step ahead of her.

“[Name], I need a hand.” Teru called.

“Got it.” She replied, running towards him to see what he needed help with. “Do you want me to freeze him for a while?”

“That’ll be great, thanks!”

[Name] unsheathed her katana and stabbed the supernatural as it slowly freezes till it cannot move anymore. Teru sliced the supernatural with full force before it disappeared in black smoke. He sighed happily when the job was done for the night. “I’m kinda hungry,” Teru mentions, putting his sword back to its scabbard. “Do you wanna grab something to eat before going home?”

“No.”

Teru chuckled. “Cold as ever, [Name].”

“Was that a pun?” [Name] asked, not amused by the joke he made.

“It wasn’t intended.” Teru wiped his jaw using his knuckles. [Name] shakes her head, she has no time for eating with her childhood friend and she needs to train for their next exorcism together. [Name] despised her parents for making them work together all the time, especially when they compare how good Teru is as an exorcist.

[Name] remembered when she and Teru went to the Star Festival together a few months ago. She can still recall what she wrote on her tag before hanging it to a tree. She wished that her relationship with Teru could go back to its normal state instead of what they currently have. Ever since the festival happened, both of their bonds are slowly regressing to their state when they were children.

“I have to go now Teru.” [Name] picked up her katana and sheathed it back to the scabbard. “Make sure to walk home safely.”

“[Name], sweetie.” Her mom placed their dinner on the table. “You and Teru-kun seem to be kind of off lately, is everything alright between you two?”

“Everything’s fine, I guess…” [Name] answered. She couldn’t tell her mom that she was evading Teru since then. The time she will be approaching him head on once she feels like she can surpass him. During her train of thoughts, a certain wonder came across her head.

How does Teru feel about her? Did Teru ever notice their relationship changing? They used to be so close but now they hardly have anything to talk about. And it’s all because of [Name]’s inferiority complex towards Teru.

The next day after that, [Name] usually avoids Teru in school but she does talk to him when he asks something about academics. Even at school, he’s always better than her and it's frustrating her even more. “[Name]!” The female turned around and saw Teru walking towards her, waving his hand. “I was wondering if you’re free later at night since I needed help in defeating this supernatural.”

“...I’m not going to join later.” [Name] crosses her arms, looking in the other direction.

“Huh? But you usually don’t miss it, right?” Teru questions, getting confused at her unexpected reply.

“Teru… I said I’m not.”

“[Name]-”

[Name] clenched her fist and slammed it against the wall in disheartenment, causing Teru to flinch at the impact. “I’m not going to go later!” she shouted. Good thing they’re alone in the classroom or else some student might interfere. “I don’t want to!”

Teru was shocked, this isn’t the first time [Name] got mad at something. [Name] retracted back, holding her arm in dismay and looking at Teru one last time. “S-Sorry, I don’t feel like talking right now… I need to be alone…” [Name]’s voice slightly cracked, then hurriedly ran away from Teru.

“[Name]... What’s wrong?”

You’re being a burden, [Name].

Why can’t you be like Teru more?

Are you scared of what he might do when he realizes you’re avoiding him?

Running away from Teru is the one preventing her from changing. A measly little wish from the tag won’t work if you don’t do something about it. If [Name] is going to distance herself from Teru a little longer, she won’t be able to make things right ever again.

[Name] does not fear supernaturals, even the sickening looking ones and the ones who brought the biggest of curses. But facing Teru head on, is her biggest fear. Just thinking about talking to Teru made her stomach sink.

“I wish Teru and I were more honest and closer with each other.”

That’s what she wrote from her tag from the Star Festival. [Name] knows she’s the only one who can make it come true. “I made my decision. I’m going to talk to Teru.”

The rain started to pour heavily, grey clouds enveloping the once blue sky. [Name] quickly placed her bag above her head and ran to a nearby shed. A lump formed inside her throat, then tears started to run down to her cheeks. She squatted down to the ground and continued crying, hating herself for not changing and hating herself for avoiding Teru.

“I didn’t think you’d be here.”

[Name] looked up and saw Teru, standing there and putting an umbrella above her head. “Teru? Why… why?” She asked in a soft whisper. If only Teru knew that she reminded him of the sun after the rain but she was too prideful to say it out loud. Her face was full of regret at that very moment. How dare he treat her with kindness even though she treated him like he doesn’t exist?

“[Name], come on.” Teru gently takes her hand and helps her stand up. Looks like the students weren’t wrong when they said that he looks like a prince. “Let’s get you home, it’s raining.”

No matter how many times [Name] has pushed Teru away, or even avoided him to an extent, he’s always by her side. Teru was trying so hard to get their closeness back, and yet [Name] was being stubborn of not letting him. [Name] started to tear up once again. “[Name]? Are you okay… did I make you mad again..?”

“...Teru I’m sorry…” [Name] cried. “I’m so sorry…”

Teru smiled slightly at her. “I know…”

Teru decided that [Name] should stay at his house until the rain stops. Her mom brought the key with her so [Name] couldn’t go inside her house. It’s been a while since she went to their house so some furniture arrangements had changed from what she remembered.

Both teens sat there in silence, mentally asking who's going to break the awkwardness. “... I apologize for what happened recently Teru.” [Name] spoke, remembering that she shouted at Teru that she didn’t want to go exorcising with him. “It’s time for me to look you in the eye and be honest.”

“I’m sorry… what?” Teru questioned, his tone was a bit dreadful which surprised [Name]. He’s always been so fearless, at least that’s what she thought by looking at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve developed an inferiority complex because of you.” [Name] started to speak, trying to let her feelings from her chest go. “You were always better than me whether it was about academics and exorcism. I didn’t want to be compared to you, I just don't want them to rub it in that you’re better than me…”

“I started to distance myself so that I can improve myself. Then one day I’ll be able to surpass my parent’s expectations, then you as well. No matter how hard I try, I see no effort in my improvement because you’re still better than me.”

“[Name], that’s not-” Teru blurts in.

“I have to…” [Name] raises her hand to prevent Teru from talking further. “If I don’t tell you this I won’t be able to change and let this stupid thing go.”

“I watched you fight countless times. There are times I would look away when you do your job because my thoughts will taunt me by saying that I’m a burden and then my hate for you would go stronger.”

[Name] painfully smiled at Teru, her eyes were puffy from crying. She sighed and kept on talking. “I made a wish from the tag that one day we could be more open and closer like when we were kids. I tried to get along with you, and started to fight supernaturals alongside you. I believed that there’s no point in relying on the stars to make my wish come true so I did it on my own.”

“I just… can’t take this anymore…”

“I’m disgusted by myself, avoiding you at all costs just so that I won’t be able to see you being the best at everything. To the point that I don’t want to do exorcism at all—”

“[Name]... you… You lied to me!” Teru shouted out, his voice slightly breaking. Everyone knows that he’s always laid-back and reserved, and seeing this side of him was out of character. “You said that we’ll always work together no matter what happens. We both sacrificed our childhood for fighting off supernaturals and you dare to leave me alone just because you thought I’m better than you?!”

“How could you?” Teru felt betrayed knowing that [Name] has always been distancing from him from the start. He thought he was just a change of attitude, he wanted to think it was a change. “I don’t think of you as a burden! Your skills are graceful as it is and I saw your fighting improving everytime we fought together.”

“I didn’t realize that I was hurting you…” Teru tried his best to hold back his tears, sniffling at the process. “I’m sorry [Name], you can hate me all you want but please don’t leave me alone in this hellhole…”

“I wanted to be close like we were back then and I guess it won’t be happening…”

[Name] sees that Teru was looking down on the ground, contemplating on what he did in the past few years to hurt her. The truth is that [Name] was actually hurting him. She took his hand, wrapping with hers. “Despite the fact… that you surpass me… you actually stopped and waited for me to improve.”

“How could I not?” Teru laughed lightly, placing his hand on top of hers. “I can’t leave my dearest friend like that, you know?”

“Even though I was sometimes strict towards you, you were kind enough to hold the umbrella to protect me from the rain.” [Name] said, squeezing his hand softly with a gentle smile curling up from her lips for the first time. “And of course, I’ll continue to fight alongside you. I’m not leaving you that easily, Teru.”

“You know, you were better than me in other things.” Teru sheepishly rubs the back of his blonde hair. “I can’t do household chores and I can’t cook.”

[Name] chuckled. She finally had closure with Teru, had blurted out their feelings and now she was able to walk by his side because she wanted to. “Teru, promise me you’ll wait for me.”

Teru pulled out his pinkie finger. “I promise.”

Then they both linked their pinkies together, sealing their promise. [Name] started to feel funny in her stomach when Teru’s face started to get closer, somehow he radiated warmth. Before they did something, the door suddenly opened.

“I’m home, Teru-nii!” Kou announced with a big smile on his face with sparkles all over along with his little sister, Tiara coming in. [Name] and Teru scooted away from each other and whistled innocently. “Ah! Nee-chan is here too!”

“Kou-kun, long time no see.” [Name] walked over to ruffle his hair, then she bent down to the little sister. “Oh my, Tiara-chan is all grown up.”

Teru and Kou watched [Name] carry Tiara in their arms. “Nee-chan seems to be in a good mood, did something happen to her?” Kou whispered to his big brother.

But Teru can only smile as a reply.

a/n: even though i red the umbrella event story of sayo and hina many times it never failed me cry ;-;

[tteokdoroki]

what he lost | k.bakugou.

⇝ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

⇝ word count: 5.4K

⇝ rating: for everyone.

⇝ genre: pro hero!au, exes!au, angst.

⇝ summary: back then; he was young, dumb and a little too prideful, taking your love for granted. now, years down the line he wonders if he’ll ever stand a chance in getting you back or the one in which katsuki bakugou grew up a little too late.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! heavy angst, no happy ending, mentions of toxic relationships, emotional distress, mentions of violence ( explosions, fight scenes, knives, blood ) and cursing all around.

⇝ author’s note(s): greetings everyone!! i hope you’re all doing well, today’s one-shot is a request from @killakatsuki​​, i know you wanted a happy ending but i got a little ahead of myself eee !! anyways thank you all for 400+ followers, i love you all :(

⇝ masterlist | requests

“katsuki bakugou if you leave me right now, please... please don’t come back.”

bakugou had always hated that, he thought, casting his gaze elsewhere in the room. he always hated how you cried when you were angry, red hot tears stinging a pathway down the apples of your usually glowing cheeks.

he couldn’t quite place the reasoning as to why. maybe it was because you rarely ever found yourself angry or perhaps it was how pathetic you looked when your bottom lip wobbled and your harsh words were laced with watery sobs.

or maybe it was because he didn’t want to feel sorry for you, didn’t want to comfort you when he was too prideful to admit that you were right. “whatever, don’t tell me what the fuck to do.” he spits, eyes and voice full of a venom he barely ever uses against you. he watches with a scarlet gaze as you falter, as if a knife has dug deep into your heart and cut you all up but bakugou only scoffs and continues to pack his side kick costume into the duffle bag he’s got on your shared bed.

every fibre of his being is tell him to reach out for you and apologise, he knows that he’s wrong. keeping his late night shifts from you, working extra hours— of course you were going to worry but he needed you to understand that being a hero was his dream above all else. the last thing he needed was a distraction like you.

something in you changed that night, both of you. as the rain hit hard on the roof of your shared apartment, even as you took his things and threw them out into the hall and even as you gave him one last chance on the doorstep. “you can leave now and not comeback or you can stay and we’ll talk this through—“ your eyes spoke to him in a silent plead, asking him if he would really give up the life that you’d built for lies and a better job?

but you knew the answer already.

“like i said,” katsuki rolled his eyes as knowing sobs wracked your body. “i never needed you anyways.”

you slammed the door before he could walk away and forget the tears in your eyes.

six years later and katsuki is pissed.

he’d been irritable since this morning when his interns fucked up the paperwork at his agency— leaving him to clean it up and then when his assistant brought him the wrong coffee and forgot to notify him of the pro hero meeting he was currently attending right at this very minute.

of course heroes of all different calibers were present; including none other than the number two, shoto todoroki, who was in charge of directing this week’s patrol missions but something about that only grinds the explosive pro’s gears even more. although, he could see himself being even more pissed if the number one; deku had shown his face instead of being away on an overseas mission. the schedule for this week’s patrol sits heavily in bakugou’s hand and he almost wants to burn it to pieces just at the thought of working with his future partner.

‘yn ln.’

the sight of your name printed in block capitals next to his has the ash blonde reeling, glancing up to send a blazing scowl towards shoto. he feels set up, as if the half hot, half cold bastard is dangling you right in front of him— its not like todoroki doesn’t know the history that sits between bakugou and yourself, after all,  he had been the friend you’d ran off to during the fight that ended your five year relationship.

it’s like todoroki had a sixth sense because by the time he’d finish announcing the pair ups, he’d tiredly caught wind of katsuki’s heated stare. “bakugou—“

“i wanna fuckin’ switch, icyhot.”

“you can’t.”

bakugou stands from his seat next to kirishima ( who only looks apologetically at his colleagues ), annoyance rippling through his veins as he approaches the taller male. “why the fuck not?” he growls, small explosions sparking in the palms of his sweaty hands ( he was undeniably nervous because of the impending patrol ) the group of heroes simultaneously sigh— having been used to the explosive pro’s usual outbursts.

todoroki sighs, running his cooler hand over his face. “because the pairs have been matched up by quirk and strength, on top of that they were done in advance so if you really have a problem with it then i suggest you take it up with the number one—“ the dual quirked hero falls silent, a triumphant smirk appearing on his lips as red riot pulls his friend away before it’s too late.

“dude, you can’t just go blowing people up!” the red head scolds beneath bakugou’s sailor mouth, wrestling him over to the couch.

katsuki feels defeated, there’s no way to get out of this situation. he’s done his best these last few years to avoid you like the plague. it was somewhat easy, considering you were lower in the ranks compared to him, so there wasn’t much time to interact anyway. but katsuki hated the fact that he had always thought you would fall below him.

nonetheless; he took to switching event time tables around, rejecting hang outs with his old high school friends... all to avoid you, and now that he had to see you face to face, he wasn’t sure how to react. would you still hate him? how did you feel about working with him?

there’s not much time to dwell on the thought for kirishima is already patting his back and guiding him out of the meeting as it ends, the promise of drinks at an ‘heroes only bar’ hanging in the air.

“you’re so handsome, ground zero ! thank you for protecting japan !”

bakugou can feel the bile rising in the back of his throat at the words from the sickly sweet fan, so he gives a nonchalant grunt in response as he finishes up his signature on her notebook before continuing his march to your hero agency. it’s been a few days since the meeting between the pro heroes and all the number three wants is to make it to your agency without being fawned over by more obsessive fans.

he gives the fan a casual wave, ignoring the look of disappointment on her face— either she was expecting his number or for him to grow bashful under her flurry of compliments but katsuki was never one for fan service.

he hated fans that expected something from him, ones who wanted more than a casual chat with their favourite pro hero but he wouldn’t let them in. they didn’t want the intimate, vulnerable sides of katsuki bakugou like you had— maybe that made the ash blonde stuck on you.

yn ln was the only girl in his life who had tried to understand the many layers of the hot headed hero, you saw past his aggressive nature and touched the deepest parts of his soul…parts that you longed to love and keep safe.

you’d loved him for who he was below the surface, not for the money and fame he had come to amass as number three in the ranks.

behind scarlet eyes are the best moments of the hero’s life, each shared with you. katsuki had took for granted the seconds you had been with him, even from the very start— he didn’t care for the way that you held him after he’d been kidnapped, clinging onto him like he’d disappear or would never return to your arms, he should have cherished the tears of worry you shed for him too but katsuki was too prideful at the time.

too full of himself even with his raging nightmares that you had managed to soothe.  

you’d comforted him after he’d failed the licensing exams, promised him he’d still get to be the greatest hero of all time and still, bakugou had cared for none of this. now that he’d thought about it, he hadn’t been good to you, he didn’t know how you’d dealt with they way he undermined your quirk and doubted your ability to protect him when he should have been the one to protect you.

your love was wasted on him, and for that bakugou needed to apologise.

hands in his pockets, katsuki’s mind could have been said to be away with the fairies, haunted by the night he came home with a half hearted apology on his lips to an empty apartment and a note from you. something about staying with the icyhot bastard and not to contact you.

that is until he collided with the back of someone in the crowd. “hey!” he’s quick to growl out to the figure, a slight snarl to the words leaving his mouth. “watch where you’re going, shitty extra—“

“ah, katsuki! nice to see you haven’t changed,” your voice sends shivers down the blonde’s spine, bright red eyes focusing on you and only you. your smile is bright, dazzling under the hot japan sun and even if katsuki hadn’t changed, you certainly had— your pretty eyes he used to get lost in, he used to watch glimmer with tears now hold a different kind of light, they greyish hue that dulled you over your time with him had finally cleared.

you looked healthy, happier and bakugou realises how much your relationship must’ve wore you down.

he feels like he doesn’t deserve the grin that you give him; the one you would save just for him in the early mornings you’d spent together back when you were dating. maybe that makes his heart jumps out of his chest.

“y-yn— “

he hadn’t prepared himself for your sweet, airy giggle that fills the space between you. “ground zero getting shy on me now? don’t tell me you forgot about our shift today, did’ya?”

“n-no, ‘course not, dumbass.” fuck, katsuki’s heart thumps against his ribcage so loud that he’s afraid you might hear it with the little distance between you. since when did you make him nervous? despite the pet name, you still give him a laugh as a flicker of fondness twinges in your bright eyes.

it’s quickly replaced when you blink it away, beckoning ground zero into your hero offices. “nice to see that sailor’s mouth hasn’t changed either ,” you mumble more so to yourself than him. bakugou walks a few paces behind you while you explain to him that you have to finish assigning your sidekicks and interns a few low level missions before you can head off for the day.

the group of young heroes are excitable, seemingly loving the opportunity to work with you— their chatter is loud but it gives katsuki time to drink you in.

crimson eyes travel over your form while you talk— your hero costume has changed a lot since your U.A and sidekick days.

you’d interned under the number two at the time, hawks, thus leading you to have become one of his most trusted sidekicks. no doubt; his skill level had not only  improved your abilities, how you controlled your quirk but your costume as well.

your quirk was known as lullaby, if you could sing a tune in the right pitch to certain groups of people, it allowed you control over the abilities and to put them to sleep. this obviously however meant you were poor at short distance attacks— something bakugou always teased you for, so he was excited to see how you’d improved.

your suit had a visor that allowed you to amplify your quirk, while patterns of the night sky dressed your body— paying homage to your hero name ‘nightsky’.

katsuki felt bad to imprinting the image of your skin tight, midnight blue suit into his mind but back when he had known you like you were his, your costume hadn’t been nearly as advanced as this.

snapping fingers pull him from his thoughts before they can get too hazy.

“eyes are up here, explosion boy.”

katsuki’s gaze snaps up to meet yours, an angry red to rival his gemstone eyes spreading like wildfire across his cheeks. “i wasn’t staring.” he tries his best to defend himself, but your knowing look tells him that you’ve caught him red handed.

“of course you weren’t, sidekicks left about ten minutes ago so we can head out  now—unless you want to keep glaring daggers at my boobs, katsu.” you’re teasing him, voice dripping like honey off of a spoon as you waltz back out onto the streets of japan and leave a bewildered ground zero behind you.

you’ve changed so much since your relationship ended with bakugou, you’re stronger, a vixen and more confident in yourself.

and he hates knowing that he’s the one that kept you down all this time.

patrol remains uneventful even as the afternoon goes on and the stress of japan begin to fill with citizens for the oncoming rush hour.

the lack of action has lead your conversation to die within the wind and leaves katsuki alone with his thoughts for the time being— you only really speak when you catch the blonde staring you down or when he accidentally walks into something ( highly unusual for him ) but he enjoys the seconds where your teasing voice tickles the tips of his ears and you smile so wide his own lips pull into somewhat of a grin.

bakugou doesn’t know why he’s so quiet, not when the storm in his mind brews all the words he should have said to you years ago. the apologies, the grateful thanks that you deserved; none of these could fall from his tongue.

he liked to say he never had the opportunity, which was partly true you were both up and coming herores yes, but you had damn well made sure you’d never have to encounter bakugou unless the situation required it. and it seemed, that years down the line, he was still doing the same.

the thought alone cause nerves to choke him from the inside out, building up in his throat until all he can do is grunt in frustration—  kicking an empty can along the road you’re currently walking down.

“that’s unlike you,” your chuckle cuts through the thick fog of katsuki’s mind, drawing deep red eyes towards your frame. you walk in front of him now, arms folded behind your head while you step backwards— the sight almost comical to anyone passing by. bakugou must look just as shocked because some how he manages to pull the cutest snort from you, even as his face morphs into a snarl and he marches forward to fall into pace with your steps. your eyes dazzle with your next words. “the great katsuki bakugou, quiet? never thought i’d see the day.”

you’ve always been able to read him like an open book, seeing right through the front he puts on. “i haven’t changed.” he grunts through his teeth.

katsuki stops walking when you do, now standing a breaths width away from you. electricity jumps between you both, static forming in the finger tips that just barely brush against bakugou’s arm.

your eyes spell it out for him, clear as day, as you finally reach out to touch him. His own close at the brief gesture, the pain from having lost you blooming across his chest.

“you did.” you breathe out,  the warmth of your soft voice making katsuki’s eyes screw shut.

he could never get a lie past you.

“we both did.”

vermillion eyes open, trying to seek you out in the light of the day as bakugou wills and prays that he can say what he needs to right now, to get you back but he doesn’t have the chance as an explosion cuts through the building on your left.

bakugou manages to wrap his arms around you, shielding you from the blast before you hit the ground. the impulse sends you  both rolling down the street, small grunts escaping you until you roll to a halt and end up on top of katsuki— straddling him.

dust and debris surrounds the pair of you, creating a thick smog in the air as sirens and screams sound off in the distance. the explosive hero groans in pain— no doubt with a litter of bruises forming under his suit but he has no time to register the sting properly before he’s noticing you on top of him, smirk on your face, devilish glint to your eye.

you’ve been waiting for some action all day.

you’re gone in the blink of an eye, so you must have a plan. katsuki remembers from high school that you made up for strategy where you once lacked in strength, so it’s no surprise to him that you’re already on the move. meanwhile; you manage to slide undetected through the smoke, moving fast to take out the low level criminals.

it’s only a robbery, but the explosion could have caused more casualties than you would have liked. you trust that bakugou can take care of the civilians and bring them out of harms way as you do your best o sus out the ringleader.

the grey tinted fog that sweeps over the area allows you both to work quickly; neither of you need to say anything, for one it would give away your position and secondly— there’s an underlying trust in one another that the two of you had built up when you worked together while dating.

bakugou, through his end, tackles down the small group of criminals after clearing the area and making sure no one was hurt. emergency services had been alerted and were already on their way, all there was now, was to predict your next movements and follow your lead. he’d never liked being bossed about, but the look in your eye made him believe you knew what you were doing.

you were right, you’d both changed. you might as well have been a better hero than him.

the ash blonde follows the trail of unconscious wannabe villains to your whereabouts, he only knows that they’re unconscious because of your ability to put people to sleep with your quirk— all you had to do was get close to them, which wouldn’t have been hard as katsuki knew first hand that these guys’ quirks weren’t shit.

“it’s almost funny, how you thought you could pull a stunt like this on a day when all of japan’s biggest heroes are in one place,” bakugou’s ears pick up on you teasing the criminal leader with that smooth chocolate voice and he follows it deeper into the air that’s heavy with debris— glad you were able to find him before the smoke cleared. “even with the number one out of town, tsk, you should have known better…”

the hot headed pro spots you, holding the hooded ringleader in a choke hold with only your thighs as you sit on his shoulders— eyes wide with victory.

he recognises the dip in your voice as you adjust your tone to put the guy to sleep and call it a day. you’re powerful, a great pro and bakugou watches with awe while you get ready to take this guy down once and for all.

“so cocky, nightsky— why do you think we chose attack the street you were on?” the guy spits through clenched teeth, resisting the urge to succumb to your lullaby of a voice.

brows furrowing, you decide not to dwell on the criminal’s words before leaning down to whisper. “sleep...” but katsuki’s body comes alive with fear as the villain wannabe jams a blade into your thigh, causing your grip on him to loosen enough for him to throw you to the floor and put a boot to your throat. “oh miss nightsky, you really rely too much on your quirk and not enough on your senses. hmm, i think it’s time we say goodnight, don’t you?” the guy chuckles while you squirm under his foot— the need for air burning sharply at your lungs.

bakugou, who’s remained hidden this entire time feels himself snap— a heavy explosion loading up behind his gauntlets while he launches himself right into the scene. he won’t let you struggle for your life, not on his watch. “GET YOUR FILTHY FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF OF HER!”

he reaches the criminal just before your eyes roll back into your head, an explosive right hook colliding with their cheek and sending them flying down the street.

the ash blonde reaches down to pull you up into his chest, that very same one heaving with laboured breaths; you’re shaking but it’s nothing you can’t handle even with the red lines at your throat.

“you good?”

“better, thanks to you.”

there’s a look that you wear right now, one that katsuki recognises from years of training and running into fights with you— you want to do the move. he nods at you, vermillion eyes lighting up with a bright fire while you grip onto ground zero’s wrists.

just as the villain stands, you kick your feet off the ground and in the meantime bakugou begins to twirl you in circular motions until you’ve built up enough momentum for him to throw you towards the criminal.

you collide with his back foot first, knocking him to the ground as your eyes glow a bright white. “i said, go the fuck to sleep.”

the criminal drops to sleep and you roll to the ground after taking him out. you smile to yourself at the familiar wail of sirens in the background but don’t bother to make an effort to stand up, letting the exhaustion, pain from the wound in your thigh and bruises at your neck finally flood your body.

sitting beside you, bakugou smirks and holds a fist out to you. “still got it,” he gestures between the pair of you, the same signature move you’ve been doing since high school having worked successfully once again.

“still got it.” you look up to the now clear sky, fist bumping bakugou right back.

he’s going to do it, he thinks, he’s going to apologise.

after everything you and bakugou had been through, something in his chest was relieved to know that you didn’t hate him, something in him is lead to believe that you’re going to give him another chance.

katsuki watches you now, an attendant from the paramedics that you called working on patching up the gash in your thigh while you rub a salve into your neck.

despite the pain you must be in; you’re still glowing, still smiling even when fans ask you for autographs or tell you how brave you were during the fight. you’re so genuine, such a ray of sunshine in the world and bakugou can feel himself falling for you all over again.

“Is that all mr. ground zero, sir?” an officer asks, taking down notes for the report about the incident. the hero nods, waving the kid off after giving them all of the details from today. they thank him and he finds himself marching over to you almost immediately, now that you’re all bandaged up.

“walking already, ln? are you sure it doesn’t hurt?”

you beam up at the ash blonde, hopping out of the back of the ambulance and rubbing at the tear in your hero costume where the cut is. “it’s good, stings a little but i’ve seen worse on you,” you comment to him, beginning your stride back to your agency.

“and who’s fault is that, dumbass?” a genuine laughter bubbles in bakugou’s throat, albeit raspy, its not a foreign sound to your ears and it makes you laugh along with him.

he knows you’re referencing the many times you’d kicked hiss ass when sparring from high school to your side kick days. back then you‘d have traced every scar that littered his pretty body and told him how much you loved him.

katsuki aids you while you head back to the nightsky agency, you insist that you don’t need help to walk but you’re limping and the explosive pro hero is stubborn as hell— he’s not about to let you get hurt again, even if its physically and not mentally like he had done to you before.

with the lighter mood, memories flitter between you both— you mention how katsuki used to love his food so spicy you would cry and he brings up the time you had given him and kirishima a bout of food poisoning when you’d come up with an alternative to the latter’s cooking. the stories don’t seem to end even as you lean into him more; trusting him again.

“about what i said earlier…” you begin after finally coming to a halt outside your agency building, a scarlet gaze full of fondness lands on you. you turn to face him with the softest of smiles, half chewing on your bottom lip— something he knew you did when you were nervous. “you’re different, to how…how you were back then and it’s good, katsuki you’re so good…”

there’s a breath of silence, only filled by the quiet hum of city traffic where people are travelling to and from home. “i’m glad i had time to become good,” bakugou offers, forgoing the words ‘for you’ and pausing instead. “i regret who i was back then, with you… thought it made you hate me and that you wouldn’t fuckin’ work with me today.”

you shake your head, breaking contact with bakugou to paw at the stupid tears preparing to make their way down your cheeks. “i-i did hate you for a while, after everything…but we were young and dumb and—“ you freeze as the ash blonde wipes a stray tear from your cheek, you not having realised that it’d escaped. “and i’m so thankful to have met you, to have shared a love with you, you taught me so much and that i could never hate you for.”

“yn...i—“ i love you. i’m sorry. i should have loved you better. the words are there, the ones that katsuki always told himself he would say to you if he had the chance but he finds himself frozen and unable to speak. why? why now? when the perfect chance sat right in front of him, the perfect time for him to make it up to you.

to start over.

“yes, katsuki?”

to get you back.

“yn i’m sorry—“

“—guess who?”

a sing song voice full of positivity bursts through the moment while a pair of hands clasp their way over your pretty eyes and hide them away from the world.

bakugou instantly recognises the voice as belonging to none other than his childhood rival and number one pro hero, deku. he seems to have changed— grown taller, green hair shaved at the sides for an undercut.

the ash blonde isn’t very sure what else has changed, but then again they hadn’t seen much of each other as sidekicks, working under different agencies with different missions.

it was only as they started competing for the top ranks that they started to run the same circles— but bakugou had no idea how you would’ve come to know deku since the blonde hated him and you were dating each other for most of that time.

katsuki is just about to tell the green haired idiot to ‘fuck the fuck off’ for ruining his moment when you do the unexpected.

you clasp your hands over midoriya’s, cheeky smile gracing your lips as you attempt to pull them away from your face. “let me think, could it be? izuku midoriya?” relenting to your cheery voice— deku pulls away from you, hands falling to grip your waist sweetly. possesively. horror flashes behind bakugou’s raging red eyes. you turn in his rival’s strong arms, smiling so hard that it delves deep into the apples of your cheeks. “izu ! when did you get back? i thought you wouldn’t make it in time for today…”

“flew in this morning doll, i wanted to surprise you—“ the number one beams down at you and bakugou’s world crumbles when you cut him off while pressing a chaste kiss to deku’s lips right in front of his eyes.

this couldn’t be happening...since when were you and the damn nerd a thing? why didn’t he realise? why didn’t he grow up and try and get you back sooner?

he has no choice but to sit and stare, a dark cloud now sitting over his shattered heart.

all the while, you’re giggling into deku’s lips, fumbling over his hands that pinch at your sides just to get you to gasp enough for him to kiss you more.  the painful ( well, only for the explosive pro ) lip lock ends when you both come up for air and your eyes land on your ex boyfriend.

“ah, katsuki ! you remember deku right? wait that’s a dumb question you were literally childhood friends—“ you start to ramble, mind getting away from you and katsuki barely registers anything that leaves your lips. his crimson eyes lock with the emerald ones that stare right back at him and hurt swells in his chest.

to deku, he must look like a kicked puppy. a weakling. a loser.

all the things he had labelled izuku midoriya when they were kids.

when bakugou tunes back into your excited rambling, his heart cracks even more in his chest. “this green giant flew all the way in from overseas to come home for wedding planning ! can you believe it?”  the answer to your question is an obvious no.

he had no idea that you had been seeing the number one, let alone being engaged to him. the hot headed hero freezes in his spot when you reach down the chest of your hero costume to pull out a silver necklace.

on the end of it, an engagement ring with a tiny emerald in it’s centre.

katsuki bakugou feels sick, bile rising up in his throat. he’d really lost you. really. “...pretty thing that is, congratulations.” he mentions blankly, eyes trained on midoriya once again. you don’t notice, but deku does and bakugou hates the sympathetic, apologetic look that the fucking nerd gives him.

“mhm ! izu put it on a necklace for me because, well you know, i’m clumsy and didn’t want to lose the thing,”

you’re so clueless that it hurts, burning katsuki from the inside out. that should be him. it should be his arms around you, his lips on yours, his engagement ring on that fucking necklace. not deku’s, not anyone’s. the green headed hero beside you seems to notice the distress ebbing away at your ex and tilts your head up to look at him. “doll, why don’t you head inside and change into something more comfy real quick? we’ve got cake tasting in an hour…”

the tail end of deku’s words are drowned out by your happily animated squeal and with a quick nod you press a kiss to his freckled cheek and bounce inside— missing the way bakugou winces at your display of affection.

it’s quiet despite the bustling sounds of the city but neither if them know what to say, even as the minutes pass.

bakugou knows that you’d be better off with deku, he would treat you right and give you the love that you deserved all along. but that didn’t make it any less painful.

“kacchan, look...“ the number one says eventually, green eyes swirling with guilt. “i’m sorry—“

the blonde shakes his head, spitting his words out through gritted teeth. “don’t...just,” fuck, it hurts to breathe. “just…take care of her for me, you got that deku?”

“yeah, of course…”

the pair of childhood rivals don’t have much time to speak after that, for you’re already bounding out of your agency wearing a comfortable mint green summer dress and pair of red sneakers to rival deku’s, despite the thick bandage to your thigh.

“ready to go?” you ask your fiancé, face as warm and as bright as it had once been when you used to look at bakugou. izuku nods, delight dancing in his eyes despite the nervous chew to his bottom lip, before letting you turn to your ex lover. “great ! well, see you around kasuki, don’t be a stranger ! we’ve got to catch up again sometime, alright?”

you link arms with izuku midoriya, your fiancé, after that—walking away and  leaving ground zero in the dust.

he doesn’t know how long he stands there for, heart in his hands even while he comes to the realisation that you hadn’t gone to todoroki that night when you’d left. no, you’d only told him that so it hurt a little less when he found out midoriya had been the one to look after you. you’d lied because you’d loved him.

you lie because you love him.

and it was only now that katsuki bakugou had realised what he’d lost.