#alongside with pressure probably who knows

[dcdreamblog]

We all know about how the HUAC trial of the 50s was, accentually, the end of the mystery men but something that is rarely talked about is the massacre of the 70s. where doctor Trapp killed over 35 superheroes and supervillains over 2 years, witch the most famous victims being the justice experience.

Care to talk about all of those fallen heroes?

Yes, well I must admit to my professional biases first. I know that one of my bad habits, the bad habits of my entire academic focus is that it makes it seem that there were no superheroes between the retirement of the JSA and the foundation of the JLA. It's obviously not true. If you're not from the United States you'd have good cause to be offended by the implication. But there's a reason. The first reason is that because my focus is on the Golden Age it's easier for me to present historical narratives from that angle to the layman, no offense. The second...is because of what happened to that forgotten middle generation.

The tragedy of the Justice Experience.

(Image of the Justice Experience created by famous cartoonist Bruce Timm. (OOC: Gwhitmore on DA). Perhaps for a never made cartoon along the lines of his famous MAU franchise)

They appeared in the early 70s, from the left to right: Acro-Bat, Bronze Wraith, Songbird, The Manx, Mr. Action and Major Flashback. They were a very low key organization but not by choice.

The media, and especially the police and the government were still deeply anti-vigilante by nature. The records of the Experience are heavily incomplete because anything they did was poorly reported and any criminals they caught were often fully credited to the police or the FBI no matter how much sense that made or how much everyone knew it was bullshit.

And that institutional disinterest probably killed them.

A villain by the name of Dr. Trap made it his personal mission to hunt down the heroes and villains of this era, as well as their friends and family. Due to legal pressure the heroes of this era had been unable to organize in the vein of the heroes of previous and following periods and the law enforcement of the time refused to take the threat of a supervillain seriously. Treating Dr. Trap as LESS dangerous than a normal killer due to his "eccentricities"

Nearly two dozen villains of the era were killed inside their own jail cells when prison staff refused to upgrade security or even increase nightly patrols.

The only survivor of the Experience was the Bronze Wraith who would later be revealed as an alternative alias of J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter. The raid that eventually captured Trap was the only case between their dis-and-reappearance that prompted the public return of the Justice Society who were able to track down and capture Trap within HOURS using their wider organizational net and remaining government contacts, further placing a spotlight on the culpability of authorities in the massacre.

35 people lost their lives in less than 2 years, the powers that be have still yet to acknowledge the role of police disinterest in exacerbating the crime and allowing Trap free reign despite standing condemnations from both the Justice Society and the Justice League. To this day the Martian Manhunter holds a private vigil alongside those the Experience left behind, taking place not on the anniversary of their deaths but of their foundation, to further bring light to their deeds.

The Manhunter has very rarely spoken on his time with the Experience in public saying "their memories are a private matter". His is also quoted as saying "I made a vow to myself that no longer would I allow my allies to suffer in silence. I unveiled my alien visage to the world, I encouraged my teammates to operate openly and without fear. And forever more I have deeply mistrusted those who hold power in human governance."

Justice Experience Remembrance Day is July 6th.

[david-blackthorn]

MY HEADCANONS ON THE TDA CHARACTER'S MUSIC TASTE :3

Part I - Julian, Emma, Ty, Kit, Dru and Livvy

(comment if you want to see me do a part II or one with characters from TMI cuz I'm not sure I will do it by myself if no one's interested in it, i just had to get these out of my head)

Julian Blackthorn: I think Julian would gravitate toward grunge and nu-metal because of their raw emotion and intensity. He’s constantly under pressure and carries a lot of emotional weight, so bands like Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Alice in Chains would resonate with his introspection and struggles. He’d also appreciate the angsty energy of Linkin Park and the chaotic rebellion of Sex Pistols(this one is basically canon with that one official drawing from SoBH).

Some examples: Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden, Alive by Pearl Jam, In The End by Linkin Park, No Feelings by Sex Pistols

Emma Carstairs: Emma would absolutely be into The Neighbourhood and Mitski, both of which balance emotional depth with moody, atmospheric vibes. Her complex emotions and fiery personality would also resonate with Lana Del Rey and Arctic Monkeys, blending longing with intensity. For her more energetic side, she might love Halsey or Wolf Alice, both of whom bring fierce energy and emotional vulnerability. But she also loves the heavier genres that Julian listens to, it's just that she never listens to it by herself but she absolutely sings along with Julian

Some examples: Your Best American Girl by Mitski, Sweater Weather by The Neighborhood, Ribs by Lorde, When We're High by LP

Ty Blackthorn: Okay it's canon that he likes classical music but hear me out on this one: Ty would appreciate intricate, atmospheric and melodic music that aligns with his analytical and introspective nature. In my opinion he would absolutely love bands like Radiohead, Modern Baseball and The Front bottoms. Probably Sufjan Steven and Elliott Smith too. On darker days maybe something like Nine Inch Nails (I'm sorry about this one, but i can honestly imagine that and I won't elaborate) Dare of me to say that but he would probably grow to love midwest emo and indie rock after Kit introduces him to more genres.

Some examples: Hurt by Nine Inch Nails, No Surprises by Radiohead, Be Nice to Me by The Front Bottoms, Say Yes by Elliot Smith

Kit Herondale: I think he is into all kinds of music. But i just know he is a HUGE Troye Sivan stan (his absolute faves are "Bloom" and "Angel Baby" and "FOOLS" would be his anthem probably). So from gay pop and Taylor Swift to classic rock like Fleetwood Mac or Queen basically anything. He’d love emotional, atmospheric tracks from artists like Frank Ocean, Phoebe Bridgers, and SZA, alongside high-energy hits from Dua Lipa or The Weeknd. He’d even dip into lo-fi hip-hop or experimental indie on his more introspective days. Also it was him who introduced Ty to Radiohead and American Football and there was no stopping the other boy from there.

Some examples: White Ferrari by Frank Ocean, Somebody Else by The 1975, Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift, Starboy by the Weeknd

Livvy Blackthorn: She's such a pop girly. I just know Livvy would definitely vibe with Taylor Swift, especially her more storytelling-focused and emotional eras like Red and Folklore. She’d also adore pop artists like Chappell Roan and Lorde for their relatable and heartfelt lyrics. Livvy’s love of life (i'm not crying, you're crying) and curiosity about the world would make her lean toward empowering and introspective pop.

Some examples: Never Really Over by Katy Perry, My Kink Is Karma by Chappell Roan, Youngblood by 5 Seconds of Summers, Colors by Halsey

Dru Blackthorn: Dru would fully embrace goth and emo subcultures. She’d be obsessed with Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Birthday Massacre, and maybe some newer acts like Pale Waves. Probably also bands like My Chemical Romance or Evanescence. For her horror-loving side, industrial metal like Rammstein or Marilyn Manson would appeal to her aesthetic.

Some examples: Spellbound by Siouxise and the Banshees, Cry Little Sister by Gerard McMahon, Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division, Dead Can Dance by The Host of Seraphim, Helena by My Chemical Romance

pls hype me up i went way out of my comfort zone to make this, i never ever listen to pop music or music outside my comfort genres which are grunge, goth, punk and emo (it probably shows *sigh*) and i had to listen to rap, industrial, pop and anything else you can imagine for DAYS to have a general idea on the most popular artists in that field.

On the bright side i discovered that i actually vibe with Troye Sivan's older music, it speaks to my love sick gay little soul

[alienthebee]

posting this on my main cause i'm super proud of this

[ozzgin]

Yandere School Q&A

I've gotten some related asks and thought I'd put them in a cleaner format, so I don't spawn another round of screenshots from my inbox.

Ohhh how would yan school react if y/n got hurt somehow?? Also quick question is her parents also platonic yans for them? Thanks!! - Anonymous

It only makes sense that the staff of the school is yandere material, too. The students may rush to help and insist they've got it under control, but the school nurse will be quick to act. It's the chance of a lifetime, having you to himself, and for longer than the usual standard checkup. The curtains are pulled, and the "do not disturb" sign is flipped. Your injuries are not to be taken lightly. You'll need to spend all day under his supervision.

The parents and all relatives are indeed platonic yanderes! I thought it'd be a nice touch since I've never approached the trope before.

YAYAYAYYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAA MORE YANDERE SCHOOLLLLLL You’re amazing!!!!! (I had to ask to make sure I used the right your/you’re) also is the darling yandere gonna keep sabotaging y/n? - @femboybasil

The tying up incident was actually an exception to what I originally planned, haha. For most of the competitions, darling yandere will guide (Y/N) and aid them for a flawless win. That's the comedy of it: he's indirectly doing the yandere part while trying to be discreet enough as to not alert the other yanderes. Additionally, (Y/N) helps him with the darling tasks. Though that part is very much expected by everyone from school. The Daring Academy teachers are probably observing the activities, baffled. "Who the hell is that student? What skill...what obliviousness. They should've applied to us."

If you’re comfortable with this concept, (since it’s a school-based series I don’t know if the reader and yanderes are minors are not, if they are then you don’t have to write this.) but obviously the students of the Yandere Academy are going to need to learn how to tie up their darlings once they’ve been captured. Would you mind writing a little blurb about it since Reader is the unofficially assigned darling stand-in for their classes? - Anonymous

This is the ask I used for the tying up idea in Part 3! To answer your worries, all of my stories involve 18+ characters! Just wanted to clear it up for anyone in doubt. The school/academy setup is more of a college/university kind of institution. I do love a good high school setup, but not for self insert romance.

I’d imagine that there’s a drama class at the yandere school to help the students learn how to act and seem innocent. What if they put on a musical or something like Phantom of the Opera (because of course it would be that) and reader got the role of Christine or the equivalent. Imagine all the yanderes fighting for the role of their love interests to get the excuse to kiss them, and other yanderes trying to sabotage them as tactfully as possible to keep the show going, but replace the leads to be alongside reader. Think that may be something cool to add/write about? No pressure of course! - Anonymous

You know the whole thing is going to turn into a ninja survival shitshow. They had hoped to never cast (Y/N) in any role, for everyone's safety. And for the most part, (Y/N) thankfully never showed any interest in the drama club.

The supervising teacher held (Y/N)'s application form with trembling hands. It seems their little club had finally run out of luck.

Worst part: the school can't even rely on the teachers. They're just as desperate to see their cute little (Y/N) perform on stage. "Maybe this job is too overwhelming for one person, sensei..." they'll smugly tell the original supervisor. "We could divide some tasks. Someone else could train (Y/N), for example..."

ok here me out, what if there is like a field trip or sports festival kind of thing where the Yandere and Darling academy meet up. Basically where a Yandere and a darling are made to pair up to go through the numerous activities (maybe ones that test their yandere/darling skills) so reader decides to pair up with clumsy Yandere ( who is in Darling academy) much to the displeasure of Yandere classmate. Maybe like a battle of the the Yanderes? - Anonymous

This was a little trippy to read, because it came right after part 3, haha. Which I feel is basically the same plot. Though it would be interesting to see how it'd play out if the stranger was Reader's best friend instead.

Reader excitedly approaches Clumsy!Yandere and asks him to work together, to the dismay of all other students. They're enraged. You can see it plainly: their hands tremble, their jaws are clenched, their eyes have a psychotic glint. Poor Clumsy!Yandere is in constant shivers, unaware of the death stares. You're cheerfully guiding him around, his hand in yours, happy to see your friend again.

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (10)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: As always, thank you so much for reading :) You guys have really been in it for the long haul with this fic and I adore you for it. My brain only lets me write it about once a month. I hope you love it and I love you!!! Please let me know what you think!!! ❤️

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

The syllables of your name echoed, bouncing off the stark chamber of your mind that was now sullied by a beautiful memory with no context. You’d grown used to the quietness, the emptiness—however temporary that was to be. The new memory chafed. 

Pressure remained constant along the back of your neck and you felt the awkward angle of your back as it rested against something sharp. Your body shifted. Another pained croak of your name vibrated in the air. 

“Please, please.” Azriel, you determined, his voice restrained and tight. “Not again. Please, not again. I thought—I thought it would’ve been okay. It didn’t seem—” 

He cut himself off, choking on the words and leaning down until you felt his face press into your shoulder. You wanted to open your eyes, but nothing made sense enough for you to do so. The memory of your laughter and joy lingered in your mind still, creating a dull ache that battled with the present. 

“You wouldn’t have had to find me. I never would have left your side.”

Azriel had said that. This Azriel—right? 

“I love you. I love you and I’m sorry, y/n,” you heard the words mumbled against your skin. “I’m so sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have pushed it. I knew—” 

Was this the same Azriel who avoided the threshold of your bedroom for days after your return to Velaris? The one that refused a simple lunch with you and struggled to look you in the eye? Was this the Azriel you had seen in that memory? 

He spoke as if he were—held you with a reverence that seemed to connect each and every discrepancy. 

You let out a shaky breath, fighting for full consciousness. When your eyes finally caught up with your brain, Azriel was there, hovering over you with damp cheeks and a harrowed expression. 

Last time—you thought, connecting dots as you blinked away the ache behind your eyes—you probably hadn’t woken up. Last time, Azriel had most likely approached this with much less delicacy and you had paid the price. Everyone said you were in too much pain to hear about your past. 

Last time, last time, last time. 

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, his broken words a testament to your assumptions. 

But you weren’t thinking about last time anymore. 

Azriel was your mate.

You were Azriel’s mate. 

And he had said—

“You said you wouldn’t leave my side,” you whispered. You were clutching at his arms with a white-knuckle grip, the action barely registering in your mind. “You said—” 

“When, baby?” Azriel rushed, the endearment passing through his lips like a desperate prayer. His fingers made their way to your cheeks, brushing along your skin just as desperately. 

“When we were married. You said… the first time… you wouldn’t have left my side if I never remembered you.” 

Azriel’s expression widened. “When we were… Did you—” 

His breath came out in quick huffs. He blinked, as if to clear the image of you in his arms, and then moved to sit you up in his lap. His shadows were a mess alongside you, wrapping and twining into odd shapes as they sought to ease the tension on the balcony. 

When you were finally situated against him, your body still shaking with the events of the evening, Azriel licked his lips and spoke. “Did you remember something?” 

“Yes,” you whispered, your gaze fixated on your fingers as they rested in your lap. You observed your tremors with an unnecessary acuity. “I think so. We were… in bed. After our wedding, I think. You said we were mates, right?” 

You tilted your head up to catch his eye in a question, feeling no embarrassment at your question. Something had shifted after his admission. After your memory. 

You felt more empowered with just a taste of your life. 

“Are,” Azriel clarified. “We are mates. Now and always.” 

“You said something similar in my memory.” You turned back down to your fingers. “How long ago was that?” 

“If you remembered our wedding, that was 267 years ago. After we got you back from Day Court we had a ceremony—a public one. It was around a year after you were healed.” 

“267 is very specific.” 

“I could never forget the day I married you.” 

You locked your fingers together and squeezed your hands until it hurt. 

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked again. His tone was lower this time, almost scared. 

You furrowed your brows and released your fingers. The shaking had stopped. You hadn't tried to remove yourself from Azriel’s lap and he hadn’t commented on how you nestled into his chest as if it were your right. 

Because, apparently, it was your right to touch him in this way. You had been fighting that instinct for weeks, but right now you were confused and conflicted and although everything was becoming clear, it also felt as if your world was toppled once again. So you didn’t move from the one thing that made you feel sane. And Azriel did not move you.

“I think so,” you answered.

“Are you… angry with me?” 

The furrow of your brow deepened. “Should I be?” 

“Yes.” His answer was instantaneous. You turned your face up to inspect the guilt lacing his tone and found it in the clench of his jaw—in the wetness still evident in his waterline. “I have failed you, y/n. I have failed you twice and, this time, I have broken more than one promise.” 

“Azriel—” you began, ready to reassure something you had no understanding of, but the shadowsinger hung his head and refused to let you stumble through your words. 

“I do not deserve your forgiveness—not now. I told you I would stay beside you and then I ran in cowardice. I brought you to this,” he gestured with his shoulders. “To this confusion and isolation. I am supposed to be your mate, y/n. I know that doesn't mean much to you now, but it will. And you will be disgusted by me.” 

“Azriel, that can’t be true,” you argued. “I know this has been so hard and I don’t blame you for your actions. I was angry before—I am still angry—but not at your fear.” 

Azriel’s teeth came together even harder, grinding as his wings coiled tightly at his shoulders. He took a long breath and released it through his nose, frustration emanating from him in waves. But not towards you, you gathered, as he finally looked down to meet your gaze and his eyes softened to match the dried tears on his face. 

You wanted to reach up and soothe some of the torture written across his expression, but Azriel gave you a sad smile that stopped you in your tracks. 

He rested his hand on your cheek. “Always too good for me,” he whispered, a too-quiet preface to his next declaration. “I’m going to take you back to your room. Your body and mind must be exhausted. We can talk in the morning.” 

“But Azriel—” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured. “Tomorrow.” 

~~

You lasted about two hours in your room. 

Calling it “your” room was a bit of a stretch. You had confirmed your suspicions that something had been off about the space after learning of your mate. There was no way you lived in this room alone when you had a relationship like that. 

You began pacing after Azriel had left you at the door. He had placed a lingering hand on your shoulder and waited until you shut the door behind you to leave. So, still fraught with confusion and pent-up frustration and newfound hope, you started pacing. 

Azriel had told you to rest, a futile recommendation with so much battling within your mind. But above it all, you were thinking about him—about the memory and his words and him being your mate.

You had meant what you said on the balcony. You were still angry at the way everyone treated you like glass. There was still much that needed to be said and feelings that needed to be revealed, but you felt no ill will toward Azriel. Not in the way he expected you to. 

Still, part of you felt a sense of betrayal. The Azriel from your memory had seemed so devoted to you, so sure that he would stop at nothing to rectify any distance between the two of you. And you had seen glimpses of that Azriel in this strange state you were in now, but some of that was missing. 

You were having a hard time balancing his fear with his love, but more signs pointed towards love. 

Didn’t they? 

It didn’t help that you were contemplating this alone in an empty room, leaving tracks in the carpet and stringing your body so tight a soreness had begun creeping up your heels. You huffed and sat on the bed instead, biting your nails. 

Azriel was your mate. 

He loved you. 

You’d heard him say it multiple times now, in more ways than just the explicit words. 

Hadn’t you? 

“Our souls are linked—mates I mean.” 

“Fuck, I miss you.” 

“Yes, my love?”

“You’re okay, angel. You’re okay.” 

“Y/n, spending time with you—being around you—it’s as natural as breathing for me.”

“You are the one sure thing in my life.”

You rose from the bed abruptly, your body making a decision before your mind. You flung the door open to “your” bedroom and walked approximately six steps to the next room. You had assumed Azriel was staying close after spotting his shadows beneath the door a few weeks back, and there was no denying it now. 

You rapt your knuckles against the wood three times, his door flinging open before you could go for a fourth. 

The shadowsinger looked frazzled, his hair askew and his sweats haphazardly thrown on. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

You ignored the clear panic in his tone as you asked, “Do you love me?” 

“What?” 

Taking advantage of the confusion and shock rendering him vulnerable, you swept under Azriel’s arm on the door and stood your ground in his room. You crossed your arms and bit the inside of your cheek as Azriel robotically shut the door and turned around to face you. 

“I asked if you love me,” you repeated. “I only have one memory back and you say we’re mates. I… I’m inclined to believe that you do. I think I’ve heard you say it but only when you think I can’t hear you and—” 

“I do,” Azriel hurriedly replied, remaining rooted by the door. “I do love you. I love you so much that I haven’t been able to help myself in those moments. You have heard me say it. I’ve been saying it to your back for weeks.” 

Your chest heaved, emotion weighing it down. “Were you only staying away out of fear?” 

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed. “And it hurt—being around you. I was a fool.” 

Shadows swirled beneath your feet. 

“This is just hard for me. I don’t really understand where I fit in here. I have this memory of you saying one thing and then—” 

“I know. I’m so sorry, my love.” 

You blinked at the unabashed way he addressed you.

Azriel did not flinch. 

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you unleashed the question that had been plaguing you since you began pacing two hours ago. 

“Do you love me when I’m like this? Even now?” 

Azriel deflated, the panic extinguishing from his body and his expression falling. He took two long strides to meet you across the room, his hands hovering over your arms for a moment before he shook his head and touched you—perhaps despite his better judgment, his fear. 

“I will love you until the day I die, y/n. Even if you cast me aside. Even if you have no idea who I am.” He winced and shut his eyes, giving into instinct and pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you and it hurts. And I would take that pain to the grave if it meant I still had the privilege of belonging to you in some way.” 

You brushed your hands up to wrap your fingers around his wrists, your eyes open while his remained shut—like it pained him to even speak the words.

You wanted to say something back—a reassurance, a reciprocation, anything. But everything that would come out of your mouth would be a half-truth. You loved him, but did you? Did you really love him yet, or did you just love the way he spoke to you and how he made you feel? Did you know enough about him in the context of your life to love him? And if you couldn’t say it back right now would he—

“Hey,” Azriel’s slow tone brought you back to the present, his gaze now soft upon yours. “I can feel your panic. It’s okay, y/n. You don’t need to say anything.” 

Your lips parted. “You can feel it? Like my power?”

“Not quite. Do you trust me?” 

“Of course I do.” 

A familiar jolt invaded your ribs, making you gasp at its resurgence. You didn’t feel it often, but it was always jarring when it happened. And it always seemed to happen most when you were scared or hurt or in danger. Putting the pieces together now…

“That’s you?” you gaped, rubbing below your ribs. Azriel leaned back, giving you some space with a small smile on his lips. 

“It is. You can do it back if you know where to find it.” 

“Even with my magic blocked? Right now I can't even sense anything. Not like I could earlier.”

“Try,” Azriel encouraged with a small nod. 

And so you did, closing your eyes and searching within you for something to pull on—anything to grasp. There was a lot of empty space, some areas overflowing with the new memories you’d made, but in a far corner, dim and dull, was a glowing thread. 

You reached for it and yanked, the action sparking a more fluorescent gold. 

Azriel let out a small gasp. The beautiful flow of his laughter followed, a melody of relief and joy intertwined. Your mate stared back at you, his eyes crinkled at the corners and allowed his smile to overtake his face. 

“It has been so long since I’ve felt you. The bond has been there, but it hasn’t felt alive. It hasn’t felt like you.” 

You let out a small giggle at the ridiculous-sounding notion. “What has it felt like?” 

“I get your most heightened emotions, but they feel dull. They’ve been missing something.” 

“You feel my emotions?” you marveled, looking inward once more to inspect the link between you. “Why don’t I feel yours?” 

“I believe you have a few times,” Azriel admitted. His wings had begun to unfurl from their uncomfortable cinch at his back. “I’ve tried to keep them closed off during all of this. I didn’t want you trying to wade through someone else’s feelings when you were already confused.” 

“Could you…open them back up?” 

Azriel shot you a dubious look, knocking his head to the side before he passed you to sit on the side of the bed. “I don’t know, y/n. I’ve been… feeling a lot. I don’t want to put that on you.” 

“I’ve been feeling a lot,” you shot back, coming to stand in front of his bent knees. “And you’ve been taking all of it.” 

“I’m used to feeling you. I welcome it.” 

You crossed your arms and raised a brow. “Didn’t we discuss this? I want to get used to feeling you, Azriel. I want my life back, memories or not.”

Azriel let out a sigh, pressing his fingers together between his knees. He bowed his head for a moment before staring back up at you with a defeated expression. His wings lay bare and open along the bed behind him. “I’m not going to win this one, am I?” 

“Do you want to?” 

Another small, defeated chuckle from your mate, and then something came alive within you, that golden thread singing, finally living up to its full potential. You had to brace yourself at the full force of it, your hand landing on Azriel’s bicep as you stumbled. He placed a hand on your back and your eyes fluttered as you parsed through this new feeling. 

You felt him. 

His fear, anger, and frustration; he was filled with so much sadness and longing, and the pain lingering in undertones was dull yet overwhelming at the same time. Each emotion fought for dominance. But there was something else pulsing down the bond, something intentionally sent. 

Adoration, love, devotion—you weren’t sure what to label it but it undermined all else. 

You laughed in disbelief, bringing your free hand up to cover your mouth. You felt the warmness of your face as you went. This was indescribable. 

“How is it?” Azriel asked. His thumb was rubbing circles into your spine. “Too much?” 

“No,” you were quick to reply. “No, Az, this is—wow, you weren’t kidding when you described mating bonds to me.” 

“I’m glad you approve,” he teased. “Tell me if you want me to close it.” 

The thought of losing this connection seemed unreasonably terrible. You shook your head and pressed closer to your mate, slotting your body in between his legs. 

You remained in comfortable silence for several minutes, relishing in the bond tethering you to each other. Eventually, you migrated to lean against his thigh as you fiddled with the material of his shirt, and the position felt the same as the one on the balcony—like it was yours to take.

“I’m going to ask you something and you have every right to say no,” Azriel said, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room. You nodded for him to continue. “Would you stay with me tonight? In here?” 

“To sleep?” you asked, surprise evident in your raised voice. 

Azriel huffed out a laugh, lightly nudging his nose against your cheek. “To sleep,” he confirmed. “Just, with the bond open like this, I would feel better if you were near me. If you aren’t comfortable with that, I completely understand. I can—” 

“Yes.” 

[munsonsreputation]

am i allowed to cry?

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.8k]

warnings: cursing, allusion to depression and anxiety, reader nearly has a mental breakdown over the stress of work/school/and life, steve comes to the rescue don't worry (honestly just wrote this because seasonal depression combined with school and work and life is real as fuck and we all need some comfort), also semi proof-read, sorry!

summary: it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, something too heavy for you to bear all alone, but you do, anyway. and when you finally collapse under pressure, the last person you want to worry is your boyfriend steve, but he’s your safe space, and all he ever wants you to know is that he’s going to be there for you through smiles and tears.

The fatigue settled under your eyes and in the depths of your bones like a heavy weight pulling you down. There was an exhaustion seeping from the inside out, eating you alive until you were merely a shell of yourself. Your stomach twisted in knots unsolvable even with the help of sleep or tea—you felt beyond defeated with no way out.

It didn’t matter where you were and how ‘fine’ you thought you were. The feeling of dread became embedded into your entire existence and it was getting harder to keep up the act and blame it all on school or work. Perhaps it started there, but slowly and surely did the feeling morph into every avenue you steered towards in order to escape.

Your hangouts with friends suddenly turned into an inner panic attack of sorts, feeling the need to keep up with everyone who was doing so well whilst you were barely making it out alive.

Family dinners then turned into interrogations, where they poked and prodded probably with the best intent to figure out why you were so absent, but it all just felt like an attack coming from left and right.

No matter how hard you tried to keep up the facade of being fine and telling everyone they were making a big deal out of nothing, you knew you were moments away from falling apart. At this rate, you were a machine breaking down piece by piece, rusting and stalling until you couldn’t move anymore.

And the absolute last person you wanted to shrink away from was your boyfriend, Steve.

He was the most supportive and present person in your life you could have ever asked for. He never doubted you in anything, and most times he was the one egging you on to go after your dreams. Telling you to take risks and go for it, because you always succeeded in everything you did, and even when it wasn’t on the first try, he knew you were bound to get a hang of it.

A special trait about him that you adored so much was his trust in you. He knew what it was like for people to always question his worth, to try to make it seem like he wasn’t capable or smart enough to make his own decisions so much so that other people had to step in and save him. But to be fair, Steve Harrington never needed to be saved—he just needed the right people around to show him it was okay to make mistakes and learn from it.

And you did just that.

When Steve didn’t know what he wanted to do after graduation, you never pestered him on to go off to college, committing himself to something he wasn’t one hundred percent certain about. Instead, you encouraged him to find his calling, to scour town in order to find different hobbies that had potential job opportunities. To volunteer and possibly shadow in order to widen his options.

You were always supportive and did your best to guide instead of control—and because of that; he was able to find a job that made him happy, surprisingly enough.

And likewise, while Steve never was the biggest fan of structured school, he guided you through your college path. Providing all the moral and emotional support he could offer you, and at times even going as far as to reading a textbook chapter alongside you to help you understand concepts that were all too confusing.

He never pushed too hard, and never made it seem like he didn’t care. There was a perfect balance between your understanding and his—a sort of tune that always was in perfect harmony…until it wasn’t.

You had been assuring Steve that while school and work were surely kicking your butt, you had it all under control, but that was far from the truth. Date nights were seemingly pushed back…not that he minded since he understood you needed to study and rest—but things were beginning to feel more off.

You avoided having him stay the night at your place or even just stopping by to drop you off some food. When you did spend time together, you were physically there, but not mentally. You listened intently to what he had to say, but when it was your turn, you shared little about what was going on with you, and diverted the questions back to him.

A lot of the time, you just seemed out of it. Too far away in your mind for him to reach you, and while he knew everyone had their off days and even off weeks, yours was becoming imminently permanent, and you were beginning to realize it, too.

You sat hunched over at your desk, eyes welling with tears as you stared down at your notes, then back to your textbook, then back to your notes once again. Nothing was making sense, and your patience was slim to none, batting your eyes as the tears fell onto the pages where you were too fed up to care.

Your mind was scattered all over the place, thinking about how you needed to make sense of the content in front of you, but also about the many deadlines of other assignments you had under your belt. On top of that, you had other responsibilities that needed your full attention, yet you sat there wondering how you were even going to complete one of them.

There was something that snapped inside of you. A guttle cry that you let out as you pushed yourself out of your desk chair and stood with your hands threaded roughly in the roots of your hair. Hot, vicious tears floated down your cheeks while you paced in circles attempting to calm yourself down, but nothing worked.

You needed Steve, even when you didn’t want him to see you like this.

He was at your doorstep not even a whole ten minutes after you had phoned him, asking if he would drop by. It was almost midnight, and usually at this hour your nose was buried deep behind textbooks and assignments, but he could just tell something was the matter.

He had asked rushed and worriedly, if everything was okay, but you refused to give him a definite answer, just sniffling back your cries and humming, telling him to come over as soon as he could. The drive was short, and yet for him it felt like eternity until he was face to face with you on your front porch.

“Baby,” His voice was rigid yet gentle, striding closer to you as his warm hands came down to hold your arms, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt?” He breathed, half catching his breath from his haste, and half worried out of his mind.

He bent a little at the knees, trying to get a better look at your face in the dimly lit doorway. All the color was drained from your skin, except the red path your tears took down your cheeks and your bitten lips.

You sniffled hard, an unevenness apparent in your breathing, “N—nothing,” you lied pathetically, closing your eyes as you shook your head, “I’m just a little stressed. You don’t have to worry about m-me.”

There was lots to worry about, especially seeing you in the state that you were in. Steve had seen you stressed out many times before. Worried about running late, leaving something behind, nervous about a final exam, but nothing ever to this extent. This was more than stress, and he knew it.

“Let’s go inside and talk, yeah?” He murmured, ignoring your comment and leading you back into your home, hoping to get you to talk some more.

Guiding you to the kitchen, he switched on the lights, pulling out a chair for you to sit at the dining table while he got you a glass of cold water and some paper towels.

“Have some water, baby,” He knelt on the ground, holding the cup of water to your lips.

You sniffled, closing your eyes tightly as you tried to catch your breath before taking a sip, letting him help you, and pulling the cusp away from your lips before you could cough up. You could feel his eyes boring through you, filled with fret wanting to get down to the bottom of the situation yet letting you go at your own pace.

He took the paper towel, crumbling it up into a small ball to dab over your cheeks and under your eyes, doing his best to soak up all the tears that kept pouring. His heart shook and broke in his chest, wondering what had happened to get you to this state of no return.

“Talk to me sweetheart,” He started, letting one of his hands come to hold your trembling one, giving you a firm squeeze. “What can I do to make it better?” He implored, just wanting to make whatever that was hurting you stop.

The desperation in his voice made another sob rip out from chest, face pinching into something painful as you hung your head low and wept as quietly as you could. You felt so weak and helpless, hating that you pushed yourself to the point where you made the one person who vowed to always be there for you feel as though he wasn’t.

“Babe, shhh, hey c’mon,” He murmured, immediately wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you close to him and burying your face in his chest, “It’s okay. I’m right here, baby. S’okay.”

You hadn’t said anything just amounting yourself to a mess of tears and unspoken feelings, not knowing how you could possibly articulate what you had been going through all this time.

“I—I’m sorry,” You muffled against his chest, causing him to pull away slightly, just to look at you and shake his head wondering why you were apologizing.

“You don’t have to be sorry baby—”

“I’m fucked up, I know I am.” You blurted out, a cruelty in your voice Steve could tell was directed towards yourself, not him.

“I-I’ve been so caught up with school and work that I know I haven’t been the best girlfriend, but I swear—”

“Hey stop it.” He didn’t let you finish, furrowing his brows, determined to make you understand the words you were saying about yourself weren’t true.

“This isn’t about you not being a good girlfriend. You’re so good to me, baby and I promise you whatever it is that’s going on, isn’t because of that. Talk to me. Don’t be scared.”

He assured you with warm circles rubbed over your back, just wanting you to focus on your feelings and not on what you thought you were making him feel. The only thing that mattered to him was understanding you, and how he could fit himself into the puzzle to make it all better.

“I’m just so tired,” You broke down once again, “I don’t feel like myself anymore, and even when I look at myself…I don’t see me.” You croaked, voice breaking in between words.

“All I want to do is relax, but my brain is just on a live wire where I can’t stop thinking and then I start spiraling. If it isn’t school, then it’s work, and if it isn’t work, then I’m thinking about all of the others things I don’t have time for in between school and work.” You heaved, just feeling the panic and frustration arise at the mere conversation.

He hated how he could see the contempt you had for yourself. Fingernails biting into the palm of your hands and a deep-seated frown over your lip, as if you wanted to crawl out of your skin to be someone completely different. But there was no one like you, in his eyes. Whatever it was that you were going through he was going to stand beside you and help you get back to feeling like yourself, the girl he couldn’t imagine living without.

“I’m here for you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner,” He murmured, pushing the tear soaked strands of hair out of your face. “You work so hard all the time, you deserve a break.”

“I can’t,” you cried, shaking your head, rubbing exhaustingly at your eyes, “I physically can’t. I can’t fall behind when I already am.”

You wanted to listen to his advice, the knowing that deep down he was so very right, but you couldn’t look past the idea of letting people down and falling behind when you knew it was impossible to play catch up.

Steve knew how you operated on a one track mind to get things done and out of the way, which was obviously ideal. However, the amount of physical, emotional, and mental strain the work ethic had put you in was enough confirmation that he needed to step in before it got worse.

“Listen to me, hon,” He said tenderly, grasping your face in his hands, “You need a break. I’m not saying you have to abandon everything, but you need to take it easy on yourself. Learn how to step away and breathe. You’re going to work yourself to death if you keep this up…and you know I can’t live without you.”

His sentiment was true and sweet, something he was able to be at all times, even at times like this.

“I’m not going to let you fall behind, baby.” He promised you, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks, pressing a chaste kiss over your lips before he continued, “I’ll help you and we can take it on together, but you can’t keep stuff like this from me okay? The last thing I ever want you to feel is like you have to do it all alone.”

You sniffled, nodding as you swallowed back the lump in your throat, hiccuping slightly, “I-I know, I’m just usually so good at taking on everything, but I don’t know what happened.” You admitted with a shrug.

He nodded understandingly. “You might not feel it, but you’re overworked and that’s okay. I’m going to be here to help any way I can. With school, with work…with breaks.” He smiled softly.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” You stared up at him apologetically, wishing you hadn’t waited so long to tell him, knowing that he was always your number one confidant and supporter through everything.

Still, he shook his head, caressing your cheeks, “Don’t apologize, I’m here now and I promise it’s going to get better.”

He held you in his arms a little longer, letting you cry the rest of your tears into his chest, before suggesting to head up to your room. Agreeing, he grabbed a fresh cup of water to keep at your bedside before following you up the stairs and into your room.

Books and papers were sprawled out across your desk, hinting to him what had gone down before you called. He knew that school was beginning to take a toll on you with bigger projects and finals approaching, but had no idea it was getting worse and worse as the days passed by—but no longer, not with him around.

“Let me just…” You spoke under your breath, heading towards your desk to get everything cleaned up, now that Steve was spending the night and not wanting him to deal with the mess.

But he was quick to stop you, grabbing you gently by the wrist before you could even close the textbook, causing you to follow his lead to your bed.

“Hey…” He murmured, setting the cup down on the small table beside your lamp, “we’ll figure it out in the morning okay?”

“Hmm,” You hummed with a nod, letting him situate you into bed before toeing off his shoes and getting in beside you.

You turned to face him after he switched off the lamp, encasing you both in complete darkness. Eyes adjusting to the light, enough for you to make out his face, eyes closed peacefully, as his arms went instinctively around your frame, pulling you closer into him—the feeling you had been missing so desperately, wondering why you ever even thought to push it away.

“You know I’ll be here whenever you need me, all the time okay?” His voice broke the silence, nuzzling his face closer to yours, hoping you knew how true every word was.

“I know,” you promised, jutting your chin up to press a kiss to his lips that he smiled into, kissing you back a little harder wanting you to remember the feeling and that alone.

All the stress still lingered in the back of your mind, but the feeling that consumed wasn’t the fear or the exhaustion that had been weighing you down. It was the knowing that you were allowed to feel your feelings around Steve, and the security to know he was your person, rain or shine—and that in itself was enough for you to know it was going to be okay.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: very short one shot in honor of seasonal depression doing its big one on me...but don't worry im surviving through my safe space fiction characters!!! i hope you are all doing well and thank you again for sticking around!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[algae-tm]

KILL BILL P.10

Charles Leclerc x ex! Reader, Oscar Piastri x Reader

Previous part next part

Author’s note : So I don’t write narrative or rather I don’t write fanfic narrative, but there’s so much I want to say in this fic that feels clunky putting in like a text message. So here y’all go. I’m not 100% satisfied with the Oscar bit but also I started writing at 2 and it’s now 3:30 am so I’m gunna go to bed and then probably write some more in the coming days, do not worry we will get more in depth Oscar lore! - Algae 🌱

••••

Despite almost being 20 years old, Charles had been just a boy when you met him. A boy with a chip on his shoulder and the world at his feet—a dangerous combination that should’ve sent you running but had the opposite effect. When you first saw him, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. He paid you no attention, probably didn’t even realise you were loitering on the outskirts of his garage, watching the mechanics run around in a dazed frenzy, but you were enthralled by him.

He stood steadfastly in front of his car, with a pinched look adorning his face, forehead creased, and eyebrows drawn together. Anyone else would’ve written him off as confused, overwhelmed, not fit to have signed a contract saying he’d be battling in F1 alongside the greats—they still wrote him off as an emotionally unstable boy. But even before you had ever spoken to him, you understood what hardly anyone else did. You understood that, while Charles Leclerc was still a boy, he was more calculating than confused. And in the years of knowing him that followed, as you’d watched him progress to f1, as you’d watched him win races, that statement would prove to be true time and time again.

As the memories of your early encounters with Charles flooded your mind, you couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. He had been so young, so full of ambition and determination. You had admired him from afar, drawn to his intensity and drive to succeed. Despite the chaos of the racing world swirling around him, he had always seemed to have a clear vision of where he was going.

But somewhere along the way, things had changed. The pressures of fame and success had taken their toll, turning him into a shell of the boy you’d met. The boy with the fire in his eyes had become a man weighed down by expectations and responsibilities. And in the process, he had pushed you away, convinced that you didn't understand the sacrifices he had to make. Convinced that he held you captive in a life you weren’t ready to lead.

Charles may have told you some bullshit excuse about children and the future but you had always been able to see through him and despite this separation nothing had changed. From the arguments in the months leading to the breakup you knew he was putting an unnecessary amount of pressure on himself, putting all his hopes and aspirations on Ferrari, despite how often that had proven to be a mistake. Yes, the stupid misunderstanding of your future together was a large part of the reason you broke up, but you had a incessant feeling that Charles had felt trapped in his life, in his racing, and had attributed that trapped feeling to you.

You did not want to forgive him. You were going to forgive him. You didn’t want to forgive him. You were going to forgive him. Those were the thoughts that plagued your mind on the 8 hour flight from JFK to Nice, and as you drove down to Monaco you couldn’t help but think about your parents. You had grown up with parents who had no business staying together, yet just couldn’t leave each others orbits. And no matter how much you cursed this dynamic as a child, you were worried that it was something you were bound to repeat. As you pulled in to the hotel you had decided to meet Charles at - nice neutral territory, you realised even if you didn’t get back together, you were going to forgive him. And it would be the easiest thing you had ever done. You checked in. Getting the key from the concierge as they told you someone had already checked in earlier.

You spotted him immediately. He was sitting at a small table near the window, a glass of something amber in front of him. He looked up as you approached, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. There he was, the man you had loved for so long, the man who had been your everything. He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. You sat down opposite him, your heart in your throat.

"Charlie," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"Hi," he replied, his eyes searching yours. "You look good."

"Thanks. You too."

There was an awkward silence, both of you unsure of how to begin. Finally, Charles took a deep breath. "I'm glad you came," he said. "I wasn't sure if you would."

"I needed to see you," you admitted. "I needed to know if... if there's still something here."

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "I've missed you," he said quietly. "It's been strange, not having you around."

"I've missed you too," you replied, your voice cracking slightly. "But I don't know if missing each other is enough."

Charles looked down at his glass, his fingers tracing the rim. "I know," he said softly. "I've been thinking a lot about us, about what went wrong. And I realise now that I wasn't fair to you. I was so focused on my career, that I had built a different reality in my head, and that I didn't see what it was doing to us. I'm sorry."

His words hit you hard, the sincerity in his voice bringing tears to your eyes. "I'm sorry too," you said. He opened his mouth to speak, probably to say you had nothing to be sorry for, but you continued, eyes downcast "I wasn't always patient, I didn’t like that I couldn’t get a read on you. I just - I wanted us to be happy.”

"I wanted that too," he said, finally looking up at you. "And maybe we can be, but we need to be honest with each other. We need to figure out what we really want."

You nodded, wiping away a tear. "I don't know if I can go back to how things were," you said. "It hurt too much."

Charles reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I don't want to go back," he said. "I want to move forward. I want us to be better."

His touch was familiar, comforting, but it also reminded you of the pain you had endured. You pulled your hand away gently, needing to keep some distance. "I'm seeing someone else," you said, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Charles looked taken aback, his eyes widening slightly. "Oscar," he said, more a statement than a question, “so you’re actually seeing him?”

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. "It’s still new, fuck it’s really new, and it wasn't planned," you said quickly. "It just... happened. After we broke up, he was there for me. He wanted me, and it started off as this petty way to make you jealous but I feel something more for him."

Charles was silent for a moment, processing this new information. "Do you love him?" he asked finally, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"No," you admitted. You could practically feel a weight lift of Charles’ shoulders "I do care about him. A lot."

He nodded slowly, his expression pained. "I understand," he said. "I can't expect you to wait for me, to put your life on hold. But I still love you, and I think we could have a future together, if we both want it."

He held out his hand to you, and maybe you were going to regret it in the future but you took it.

INSTA

carlossainz55 posted on his story

(Image 1 caption : summer with friends. Image 2 caption : reunited )

seen by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 2,344,234 others

User31 : brother what?

Used42 : oh my god please tell me they’re back together!!!

charles_leclerc : y/n isn’t going to like this. delete it now for your health

lewishamilton : so that’s where she is… tell her to message me

y/bff/n : oh brother this guy STINKS.

user32 : bop

yourusername : delete this now

carlossainz55 has deleted his story

••••

You hadn’t been ignoring Oscar, okay maybe you had just slightly. But spending the short break with Charles was, okay you don’t know what it was. You were confused. Really fucking confused. Being around Charles had encompassed you, like it always did. The week and a bit you had spent with him was a whirlwind of emotions. You spent time with Charles, talking about everything and nothing, rediscovering the things that had brought you together in the first place. You laughed together, reminisced about the good times, and shared your hopes and fears. It was comforting, but it also made you realise how much you had both changed.

But Oscar Piastri was something new. Not just new something novel, he brought fresh perspectives, and the way he made you feel was so different from how you felt with Charles, and something in you said you had to give him a chance. So you guess you had been ignoring him, but only due to the fear that he’d want answers you wouldn’t be able to give. The weeks after your ‘not date’ had been filled with constant phone calls, and texts, and despite the constant feeling to remind him that you weren’t dating you both knew that wasn’t true, you both knew there was something there. So you couldn’t blame Oscar for his eagerness, in fact you relished in it, you knew Oscar was playing it up to make you laugh, make you open up more and it was working. He deserved much better than you.

••••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

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@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

[agirlnamedelia]

The Perfect Gift || Katsuki x Reader

Genre: fluff Pairing: Katsuki x FEM!Reader Synopsis: Your rich billionaire sugar daddy always bought you what you want and what you need. However its his birthday, how could you ever compete with the gifts he had given you.

You paced back and forth in the living room, biting your lip in frustration. Bakugou’s birthday was just around the corner, and you still had no idea what to get him. It wasn’t like he needed anything; he was rich, powerful, and could buy whatever he wanted at the snap of his fingers. What could you possibly give to someone who had everything?

As you stared blankly at your laptop screen, which was currently open to a gift ideas website, you sighed. You had gone through dozens of pages, looking for something—anything—that might be worthy of Bakugou. You knew he wasn’t big on material gifts, and he’d probably scoff at anything too fancy or overly sentimental.

“Ugh, this is impossible,” you groaned, leaning back on the couch and rubbing your temples. The pressure was on, and you were feeling it hard. Every year, Bakugou went all out on your birthday, surprising you with the most thoughtful gifts and extravagant experiences. And every time, you were left in awe of how well he knew you, how much he cared. Now, it was your turn to show him how much he meant to you, and you didn’t want to disappoint him.

You glanced over at the clock—only a few days left. “Think, Y/n, think,” you muttered to yourself. What did Bakugou like? What did he need?

Suddenly, an idea struck you. He might not need anything material, but maybe he could use something from the heart. Something personal and meaningful. With renewed determination, you grabbed your phone and started making a list of ideas, brainstorming anything that might bring a genuine smile to his face.

The next few days flew by in a whirlwind of preparation. You spent hours working on your gift, making sure every detail was perfect. It was a labor of love, and though you were nervous, you were also excited to see his reaction.

Finally, the day of Bakugou’s birthday arrived. He had planned a small gathering with a few close friends at his favorite restaurant, and you spent most of the evening by his side, enjoying the laughter and good company. But as the night wore on, you could feel your nerves starting to creep back in.

After the cake was cut and everyone had sung a boisterous rendition of “Happy Birthday,” the group started to disperse. Bakugou wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Ready to head out, or you wanna stick around a bit longer?”

You smiled up at him, trying to mask your anxiety. “I’m ready whenever you are. But, um, before we go… I have something for you.”

Bakugou raised an eyebrow, his expression softening. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “It’s just… well, it’s not much, but I wanted to give you something special. Can we, um, go somewhere private?”

His curiosity piqued, Bakugou nodded, leading you out of the restaurant and into a quieter part of the nearby park. The cool night air was refreshing, and the soft glow of the streetlights created a cozy, intimate atmosphere.

You took a deep breath, reaching into your bag and pulling out a small, wrapped box. “I know it’s not fancy or anything, but I wanted to give you something that… that shows how much you mean to me.”

Bakugou took the box, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know. I’m not big on gifts.”

“I know,” you said quickly, wringing your hands nervously. “But this isn’t just a gift. It’s… well, just open it.”

With a grunt, Bakugou carefully unwrapped the box, lifting the lid to reveal a small, handmade photo album. His brow furrowed as he opened it, flipping through the pages. Each page was filled with pictures of the two of you together, from your first date to the countless adventures you had shared over the past year.

But it wasn’t just photos. Alongside each picture, you had written little notes, recounting your favorite memories, the silly jokes you shared, the moments that had made you fall in love with him all over again.

Bakugou’s eyes softened as he read through your words, his lips quirking into a small smile. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just taking in each page, each memory.

Finally, he looked up at you, his expression unreadable. “You made this?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah. I wanted to give you something that… that showed you how much I care. I know you don’t need anything, but I thought maybe you’d like to have something to look back on, you know? Something to remind you of all the good times we’ve had.”

Bakugou stared at you for a moment, his gaze intense. Then, without warning, he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your hair. “Dumbass,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden affection. “I-I wanted to,” you stammered, hugging him back. “You do so much for me, and I wanted to do something for you, too. I know it’s not much, but—”

Bakugou cut you off with a soft kiss, his lips lingering against yours for a long, sweet moment. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were softer than you had ever seen them. “It’s perfect,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “Thank you.”

A relieved smile spread across your face, your heart swelling with happiness. “Really? You like it?”

He nodded, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “Yeah, I do. More than you know.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, basking in the quiet comfort of the night. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, the anxiety and worry melting away in the warmth of Bakugou’s embrace.

As you leaned your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, you realized that you didn’t need to stress so much about finding the perfect gift. What mattered most was the love and thought behind it, and Bakugou had shown you that in his own way.

With a content sigh, you snuggled closer to him, closing your eyes. “Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

He smirked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Best damn birthday I’ve ever had, thanks to you.”

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[centrally-unplanned]

Since I was talking about the "cellphones & boredom" topic earlier, here is the kind of "actually making a case" that some people are doing. The plural of anecdote isn't data or anything, but as someone who works in this field the academics quoted are reflecting a pretty consensus opinion across universities in my experience. Students legitimately cannot do longer-form tasks that they could do in the past, even up to students from high-ranking schools. I lean towards this being a true phenomenon, though the scale is TBD.

Is it because schools are "teaching to the test", as the above article outlines? I don't personally think that is the biggest driver, but I see the causal pattern here. I am generally skeptic of "generalizing education" - people learn in school, it is real, but they don't learn that much, and most of the traits people think school is "teaching" come from a grab bag of sources. But schools definitely teach you how to succeed in school! Being a Student is a skill, people are generally motivated by grades and the like, and so you learn "what works", and schools have absolutely been shifting their expectations. I would push back against the "lowering" them understanding, at least naively; a lot of students in those "great books" classes would sparknotes those fuckers and bluff through it, and so modern assignments can be better targeted. But schools are also responding to students, and parents, and there is a lot of pressure to "meet students where they are at" and pass everyone in the class; I can imagine this dynamic playing a role as well.

Of course it could also be the cell phones, I think they play a role too. But I would posit another causal mechanism - why read the long books? I mean I like long books, but even I these days will skip text sometimes that I can tell is filler and stuff. The internet has taught me not to fear long books, but to be efficient in my consumption, I know what I want so to speak. And that does make me read less of them.

And let's be real, 90%+ of the students, after their Great Books intro college seminar, never read books like that again. These classes did inspire some people, but never made a nation of readers out of most who attended. And that failure is positioned alongside a general trend of the "liberal arts" educational value declining to be replaced by college-as-career-advancement. A transition that is occurring because, overwhelmingly, the latter side was correct about the priorities they should have. Reflected back in culture, of course, like now one's peers also don't value reading long books, right? They talk about podcasts instead or w/e. But still, I think that is what makes putting this genie back in the bottle hard - students are probably correct to understand "reading long, dense books" as something with a minimal payoff for them.

If there are society-wide consequences of that, you can make the case - though since so few were ever readers post-college, I am skeptical. Or at least they are going to be more complex than this narrative puts out. But I am open minded on this one still, definitely a development to follow.

[kybercrystals94]

Just a few things in Season 3 Episode 5 that I can’t stop thinking about…

[spoilers below cut]

The way Crosshair treats Omega like a peer.

This is so different from the way Wrecker, Echo, Tech, but specifically Hunter, ever treated Omega. To them, she’s still the little girl they rescued off Kamino. They know they’ve trained her to be capable; however, it is hard to separate their guileless little sister from the little warrior she’s become both with their squad and during her captivity on Tantiss.

Crosshair never knew or cared about little Omega, the child who’d never seen dirt before.

He’s only ever known and cared about this Omega. The Omega that insisted on building a relationship with him in spite of his trying to push her away for her own good. The Omega who refused to leave him behind at risk to herself. The Omega who can hold her own alongside him during a firefight. The Omega who can fly ships, bribe, and swindle. Crosshair has only known this Omega. Why would he treat her as anything but capable? He will absolutely protect her and have her back, but he will not doubt her abilities.

That’s not to say that the others doubt her abilities. I think they absolutely know what Omega is capable of, but that innate desire to protect the little thing she was has not dissolved just because Omega has grown…which is so true of real life. It’s authentic, and it's difficult and messy. And I love that the show is tackling this.

I also love that Crosshair knows this too. “Don’t hold it against him. He’s only worried about you,” he gently advises.

Which leads me into how I viewed Hunter’s behavior in Episode 5…

He doesn’t trust Crosshair. Why would he? The last time they interacted, Crosshair tried to force them to join the Empire of his own volition. He tried to have Omega forcibly removed from their protection. He chose the Empire over them. And then, they find out that Crosshair became a prisoner of the Empire, and their attempt to rescue Crosshair from his own choices resulted in Tech’s death and Omega’s capture. On top of that, what exactly did Crosshair do to get on the Empire’s bad side? Hunter doesn’t know. And Crosshair isn’t volunteering the information.

I also saw a bit of jealousy on Hunter’s part (although he probably doesn’t recognize it). While we as viewers know that Omega is trying to support Crosshair with his emotional and physical trauma, as well as getting him to communicate with Hunter and Wrecker. On the outside, Omega and Crosshair are almost inseparable, Omega seeking out Crosshair’s companionship (the brother that initiated a lot of the Batch’s heartbreak) rather than the brothers who have taken care of her all along. Gotta admit, I’d be pretty hurt by that too. Again, not at all Omega’s intent or fault that he feels this way, but it would be confusing and hurtful nonetheless.

Crosshair also senses this jealousy. (“Oh, don’t pretend like this is all about me…You’re angry because she escaped with my help, not yours.”) What Hunter doesn’t know is that Crosshair has supported Omega and Hunter’s relationship, not undermined it.

I really appreciated how Crosshair - while hurt by Hunter’s mistrust - does his best to prove himself trustworthy again (although hidden behind typical Crosshair snark). He’s broken his brothers’ trust, and he knows it has to be earned back.

Wrecker runs to hug Hunter and Crosshair after they make it back safely.

Wrecker is the only one of the Batch (besides Crosshair, obviously) who has been on both sides of the chip. He understands Hunter’s perspective and trepidation towards Crosshair; however, he also understands the guilt and fear that comes after being under the chip’s influence and nearly killing your family. While he was also confused and hurt by Crosshiar’s actions after the chip, Wrecker trusts Omega’s judgment. If Omega feels that Crosshair has changed, then Wrecker is not going to question it.

But he’s not going to pressure Hunter to the same conclusion, and he’s been Hunter’s support system for so long���and obviously, Crosshair already has a support system in Omega. Wrecker is going to let Hunter take the time he needs to trust Crosshair on his own terms…and I love that!

I felt that when Wrecker saw them coming back, he could tell they had worked out some of their hard feelings toward one another…and he was thrilled! That hug was more than just happy they made it back safe from facing a monster, but that they are on the path to making amends. Their family is healing. Not healed. There’s still hurts and wounds to work through, but healing.

And the way he embraces his two sullen brothers, smooshing them together so that they are also hugging each other by association…made me smile so big!

The way Echo acts as mediator between Hunter and Crosshair. (Also…ECHO FINALLY SHOWS UP!!)

Omega and Wrecker have been struggling trying to support both brothers while they work through their issues, and then there’s Echo saying, “You can kill each other later…focus!” Echo gets it. He knows they need to work things out on their own terms, in their own time. But first…mission!

Also, I loved how civilly he treats Crosshair when they meet again. Crosshair is 100% ready to receive a negative reaction, and when Echo simply snarks back at him like the good ol’ days, Crosshair is visibly surprised. Even Omega looks happy to see the positive interaction.

When Omega expresses how she wishes she could have done more for the other clones on Tantiss, Echo tells her she did the right thing escaping and getting the information she could to him and Rex…he is such a good and encouraging older brother! I love him!

Special mention goes to Crosshair and Batcher being buddies! The way Crosshair pats and pets her when Batcher comes up to him after they rescue Hunter out of the snow. And then Batcher plops down beside him and Crosshair keeps petting her. My little heart!

[adoregojo]

valentines - sae itoshi x reader

yayyyyy I finished it, im free :3 im so freaking sleepy rn warnings: angst, very happy ending the chap before: one

2017

it's been years since you last saw sae.

those 3 years without the elder itoshi felt unfilled, missing it familiar spark. visiting the sea doesn't feel the same without the reddish-brown boy alongside with you. his endless grumbles about how luck keeps running the opposite direction and it's always loss in the in of his road were now just a remains echoing inside your head.

it's not that his face wasn't rememberable anymore, in fact, his face was glued on every bug screen around japan. under the name of the japan prodigy himself. however his face was blurry and those big-screens always do him unjustifiably. pictures were good, but sae grew. oh how you wished you could have grew together again.

you missed his actual face, when he would reveal his rare unseen smile to you. even when he didn't smile, there was something there, your grandma always said that his eyes would go soft under the mention of your name. when actual emotions were still swirling in his heartland. now you looking at his face, his slime teal eyes were so..bleary.. sae looked like he lost all his colours.

you wished you could embrace him, just like you used to when you two were kids after he flunked his math test and the first thing he does is let you hug him and play with his hair, sae told you that he would never let someone else do that to him yet the word shameless was unfound beside you.

but now you were helpless. thinking about the great distance itself between you two was crushing.

you kept writing, and sae promised to write back. at least he did at first, within the next months his letters and calls were fading, draining each day, they were getting awfully dry to the point you felt he was just saying anything to make shut you down. but in the end he stopped completely. no matter how much you texted or called they were never answered.

yet you kept on writing, even when he didn't reply. you sent him birthday cards on his, remained him of yours as well. however he never responded. you write and send, write and send, write and send damn letters nonstop. at some stage you didn't know where to send them anymore. they were never replied to, never seen nor read.

soon your texts became green. and it felt like a door was slammed on your face.

you felt desperate, like a dog waiting for it owner returned. and you could feel the pity glimpses in everyone's faces, in school, neighbourhood, sometimes even your own grandma, except that she held more sympathy with it.

perhaps, the younger itoshi was the only one who didn't change much. just like you, sae stopped his communication with him as well. but he handled it way better than you did, the letters 'big brother will come back, he's just busy' fell out rin's mouth every time he senses you unhidden soreness.

you should believe in what he says, it's literally his brother. his own flesh and blood, his family. yet you didn't ease up under his words, if anything it worried you even more. you felt it, the wave screaming back at you that something bad will happen, something that'll change everything forever.

and you knew you were right when opened the door revealing rin with tears running down his reddened cheeks.

2018

rin never told you what happened that tragic snowy night.

all you could remember was him shedding tears like there was no tomorrow, they were silent yet so painful that you felt sorry for the boy. you always took rin as an unbending person, he was like sae but much more chill and dare you say more friendly?

you warped a blanket around him when he slept in the guest room, you never pressured him. never pushed him, thinking about it now, you should probably have. because you woke up to that bed soothed back all clean and empty the next morning.

and it felt like rin last strike of humanity was left dead under your roof.

rin changed, and everything changed with him. maybe you didn't, perhaps you grew doleful, dejected. waiting was hard, pouring down your soul. it felt like the sky was telling you that you were waiting for nothing, but to be truthful, not only the sky was implying that.

you saw how the younger itoshi would look at you when he saw you writing letters to sae. he said nothing and stood silent, yet his eyes were pleading with you to stop, to give up on his brother before he curses you for good. however, you were already cursed by sae a long time ago.

even when he left for that project, deep inside. he wanted to say something, to speak up. the words were on the tip of his tongue yet he kept on opening his mouth and closing it like a lost fish. then rin left without a word, leaving you to face the truth by yourself.

you found it strange when every time you were present in the tv room, the first thing your grandmother dose is close the tv or change the channel. it was weird, you never remembered her being a big fan of national animals shows. she always liked the news which was what she kept avoiding for a while for some reason. her protection wouldn't last forever.

a secret kept swimming around you, just walking around in the hallways was enough for everyone to either laugh or look at you with such pity. even the teachers? what was going on, what kind of secret could it be to impair you this much?

you wished to stay curious, to stay lost in your little circle of agony but not to witness the man that planted dead hopes within you was now cutting your roots of holden on faith.

you saw a picture of sae kissing another girl, and you felt your soul getting toured up by him.

like the world itself was laughing at you naiveness, how stupid you were. you felt used, the wasted years you spent waiting on someone who didn't even care felt like a pure burning betrayal. you got that light message, sae was basically telling you to get off his back, you were no longer needed.

you meant nothing that anyone could possibly overshadow you. you got tossed aside, a dusty memory that was never worth holding in the first place.

you stopped writing letters after that day.

2021

"nice having you back in japan, genius boy."

aiku laughed, but the man ahead of him didn't even spare a smile at him. instead he found the glass of drink in front of him more interested. the black head let out a sigh, he guessed that sae isn't exactly a man of change, he needs to stop letting his hopes up for nothing.

it's an understatement to say that aiku was surprised that the elder itoshi would even acknowledge his invitation for a night out at what he called a fancy bar. hell, sae probably didn't even like wine in the first place. yet he was here, looking around with his boredom eyes that never opened fully.

"soo, you finally opened your heart for your dear home?." aiku asked, taking a sip of his own drink. through the transparent glass, he could see the slim teal eyes peeking at him.

"what's up with that interview question? don't say you invited me for this." sae spat out, the place was awfully packed despite it being the middle of the night. and he would lie if he said he wanted to spend another second here.

"haha, once a stiff always a stiff. thought i would get a thank you for getting you out of your forlorn shell for awhile. i mean, look at those chicks, you sure you don't wanna catch yourself a little fun? heard you were left out on valentines eve."

the elder itoshi frown a brow, "you think you're my wingman or some shit? don't get too high of yourself just 'cause i went out here with you." scoffing, the reddish head crossed his arms.

before aiku could get a chance to reply, a sultry voice called. "you boys would like a refill?" the suffocating smell of her perfume was pocking sae's nose, which made him hard grimace in disgust. while on the other hand, the shaggy head threw a sly smile at him for some reason, he better not do anything stupid.

"not me, hun. but my friend over there would definitely like to. right, sae?" he should've knew better. he knew this fucker was trying to set him up with some, it didn't even need a rethink when his glass wasn't even half way empty.

sae could feel a vine running through his head when the high heels sound was lifted to his side. his personal space was getting tackled when the woman bend over with her breath that reeked of unhidden smoke and alcohol was tickling his ear.

"Oh? you must be a new one. we got specials for those." she breath out, her hand running down sae's arm. he had to stop himself from getting defensive at her sharp nails stabbing him through the fabric of his clothes. "you can request anything you please, even these lewd things going on your head."

her flirting was on death ears, he didn't even take a glimpse at her. nudging that man was like trying to punch a wall. sae told himself to ignore and she'll get the message and leave him alone already.

"c'mon now, whatever little sweetheart you clinging onto doesn't have to know."

and that hits a nerve, "anything you say? than I request you to step the fuck back you good for nothing tart creature." as soon as these harsh words come out, a loud gasp was heard. and sae couldn't find it in himself to stop the next words of coming out. "I came here for someone, not some harlot woman wiggling over me. go throw yourself on some pimp maybe you'll find a purpose inside their pants or something."

soon, it turns into a crying mess. and sae remains stiff. the only reaction he could give was sipping on his drink, he saw aiku trying to stop the women from running before stroking the bridge of his nose is disbelief.

"what the hell man.. you could've just told her to leave you alone."

"I don't like pushy people."

he hears a scoff, then aiku swaying after the other woman. sae could feel the eyes of strangers staring him down, not that he cares, not even about that woman who he sent crying, she can collect what's left from her dignity, if there was any in the first place. he was too busy rethinking why did he speak those words.

and why did was your face the first thing to pop up his mind when he said that.

it's been years, and he couldn't believe that he agreed to aiku's request, yet he'll never admit that he wanted any reason to step here again. any reason to see you again, he never thought he still had it in his heart to miss you. to be eager for you, he found himself bubbling with excitement like a little kid again.

sae can't figure why are you suddenly so heavy on his mind, was it the years of pushing you to the corner of his mind was paying off? even the tiniest things were enough to makeshift you in a way. it felt like he couldn't escape you, you were in everything and everyone. in the side planted flowers, in the little kids laughs, in the bright colours of the sun.

he wondered if you still think of him, if you still hold on him after seven years of being absent in every way possible. you turned eighteen without him, you probably had much more friends by now, maybe even changed your haircut, he remembers you rambling about how your grandma wouldn't let you change the same haircut for years now. sae himself doesn't notice the smile forming on his lips.

"wash that sappy face off, doesn't suit you." a firm voice stated, he didn't even have to turn around and see when he knew this tone like the back of his hand. lo and behold, his younger brother standing there.

"rin."

"shitty brother."

rin walked up to the table, his hands deep in his pockets. standing in such a filthy place made shift disgustingly. not even trying to hide his displeasure staring at both his brother and whoever walks by like a walking foul trash bags. or maybe that's just his natural face.

he didn't take the obvious abandon seat, instead he stood like he just needed a minute before taking his leave. "didn't expect you to be back, though you called this place unworthy of your presence." said rin, his eyes doesn't held them loathing anymore. but still a hint of unbearableness was there, that'll take some time to wash away.

"i have my reasons." he simply replied, he was never releasing his feelings.

"plus, what the hell are you doing here? and don't lie to me when you look like seconds away from throwing up." sae question,

"you need to get a assertive manager next time." rin shrugged, he wasn't planning on lying. the guy almost shat himself at the sight of rin alone. maybe he should work in his face expression.

"well, I know you aren't here for a heartwarming family reunion. so spit it out already." rude as ever, but the younger itoshi learned to not raise his hopes too much when it came to his brother.

rin doesn't reply to that, instead he reaches for his black coat pocket. lifting out some designed letter, leaned it carefully over the table for him to take. so sae does, playing around with the object, he sided eye his brother.

"a wedding invitation." rin answered before he could question.

"yours?" he asked in disbelief, that was not a face of a man getting married.

his younger brother started at him like he grew another head, "no?" he almost gagged, narrowing his eyes.

"then i have no interest in wasting my time."

"just read it you damn slacker." rin demand, he did not come all the way here for his older brother to act like a spoiled brat. he swore he's gonna shove that letter down his throat if don't stop yapping.

finally sae let out a dramatic sigh before opening the letter, whatever name it was, it better be worth it. and part of him wished he never opened it.

because his eyes uncontrollably traveled to your name, not even that he read the start nor the beginning. he wished it was a mistake, maybe someone else's name and it was all pure coincidence. his eyelids flicker open, he read it once, twice, and the world felt like it stopped.

"..it's in two days by the way.. and stop looking at the letter like that, your gonna burn it." rin words went from ear to ear. but sae managed to catch something in the lines 'in two days'

"two days?.. why am i getting an invitation now?" words came out mindlessly, he wanted to ask more, who, how and when. his mind was on track. sae never wished for something to be a sick joke like now.

"are you serious? be grateful you were even in the list." nevertheless, rin didn't like his question. is that really what he asked? not even about you? however, his brother colourless face spoke more.

sae didn't reply, he looked at the letter in his hand like it was his worst enemy. rin wished his brother wasn't a damn block headed maybe then he'll get his fingers on what's running inside his mind. so rin takes his leave, letting his brother handle the news by himself.

"woah, man. that girl just wouldn't stop crying. I'm starting to believe you're truly heartless." aiku let out breathlessly, but he was met of a new face of sae, it was the first time he say any other expression on his face. especially something..this emotional..

"dude, you okay? looks like you've seen a ghost."

maybe even someone as cold as sae could carry a fragile heart.

2021 February 18

it felt like the universe was laughing at him.

fate was truly the cruelest, out of any other day. it had to day, the day that was meant for you and him, just fir another guy to snatch his place like a piece of candy. he wished it was him, he wished he didn't come here in the first place. yet he was, surrounded with unfamiliar faces chit chatting around.

sae regrets stepping in here, he wanted to leave. to runaway. he doesn't want to face it, to face you walking down with another man that is not him. but he wanted to see you so bad, why did this feel like this is his only chance to see you ever again?

he felt aimless, and the people talking wasn't helping him either.

"did you hear? they're gonna rent a house on a beach!"

"oh my, they're so lucky. wished mine would have the same mindset."

fucking kill him.

"you actually came? thought you'd leave like the spineless coward you are." the voice of rin was merciless. and most of all brutally honest.

"shut up. I don't wanna hear it." sae waved him off, he didn't wanna hear it. especially his little brother berating him senselessly. deep down, he knew he deserved it. he was the one that stepped over your heart when he promised to take care of it. maybe he is a coward.

after he followed after rin, which took to long for his liking, he had to complain. "fuck you taking me to?" he spat out.

"be patient, don't you wanna talk to them?"

that somehow shuts down any chance of any other objection, it felt like ages before they got to the meant room. and for some reason, sae doesn't enter yet, he doesn't find the guts to.

"why did you even invite me to this?"

"me? invite you? you wish." rin jeered, his brother was definitely not in the right mindset to think such thing. "they invited you, if anything i thought it was better not to."

"I didn't even think you'd come, looks like you still got something in that frigid heart of yours. but it's already too late to come over your fears."

a ghost smile form on sae's face, at his own stupidity, at rin's truthful manner. at himself,

"i know that."

he closed the door behind, and slowly walked into the room. his steps were heavy they kept on echoing through the walls. announcing to the world what he was doing. it was a miracle he didn't fumble his feet on the way, and more of a miracle when he didn't faint at how beautifully you shone.

you quickly stood up, the white dress mimicking your movements. he was right, you did change your hairstyle after all, and oh, how you good you made it look.

"sae? you actually came.." you exclaimed. examining him from head to toe, he did change, more like he grew. he wasn't the same height as you anymore, his bangs were long gone. and he refused to meet your eyes. looking at everything but your gaze.

"yeah." he pushed out his lips.

it was strange, seeing the one he promised to marry get married to another one. his first crush, first crush, his first heartbreak, the first heart he shattered. all the memories of childhood came like a rush wave of air, and what lingered was your face at the airport, the day you said goodbye. the day he heard you sniffing behind him, yet he didn't turn.

perhaps because he knew out everyone, he would've gave up everything just to not see you a tear run down your face. or it would be him crying with and be a couple of crying mess. yes you got him warped your finger like that.

sae only knew a world with you, and he knew his soul stayed with you the day he left.

"it's been a while,"

"seven years, it's been seven years." the male corrected

"i know." you giggle bitterly. he knew you knew. you both knew but none spoke or mentioned anything.

"how have you been?" he had now idea of what to say or ask of you, that was your fucking weeding of course you're happy. damn, even his younger self wasn't that clueless.

"I'm good. you?"

I'm missing you terribly.

"good."

"that's good.." you shifted awkwardly, like you wanted to hide from him. was he making you that uncomfortable?

"can i?" stretching out his arms slightly, he was ready for you reject it, to punch him, to scream at him. but you nodded instead.

you lean right on his chest, his hesitate arm on the small of your back. when was the last he hugged someone? it was much easier when you two were kids. it sure felt warm, your cologne taking over his senses. he just didn't feel like fits the puzzle anymore. and it fucking hurt.

it didn't last long sadly, taking yourself out of his embrace. he doesn't want to let go, if he let go, you'll disappear. despite that he looked into your eyes, and suddenly he doesn't feel only half alive. you still got him warped around your finger like that.

"i need to go, it was nice seeing you again, sae."

he could only nodded, every step he took away from you felt like the world was draining it colors again, the universe was punishing him, because seeing you not sparing a glance back was truly painful.

the evening felt timeless, it skips to where he sat looking heedlessly at the ground. he didn't want to meant anyone's face nor attention. he bet that his was gloomy enough to scare off anyone who walks by.

one's begs to differ.

"well, well. if that ain't a face I haven't seen in a long time." an elderly woman said, the same old sly smile still glued to her face. she takes a seat beside sae, fearlessly nudging him to look at her.

"it's you."

"it's me, that old granny you used to call a hag." your grandma said.

"That was one time, and you spanked me for it."

"i sure did, always been a badass." she laughed, and sae found the invisible beam draw in it way to her face.

"look at you, you grew to a fine young man." he hissed when she pinched his cheek, almost as if she meant for it to hurt. he had rub the spot with a grunt.

"despite that, it's sad to say you disappointed me, itoshi sae." she spoke in a straightforward manner. almost like she was scolding him. and when say nothing she continues.

"I would've given you another spank but my grandchild would be mad, they still cares for you. always been." the lady sighed, "they never gave up on you, four years is a real challenge. every day they kept on writing to you, did you perhaps read them."

"every singer night."

"but you didn't respond to a single one?"

he doesn't replay to that.

"don't prove me wrong again. that girl you put your mouth on, why?"

sae's hand travel down his neck, trying to find the right answer. as if there was one. "i wanted them to give up on me. i just felt pushing them and everyone away was the right thing."

"so you became a selfish bastard that kills everything he touches? i knew you were dumb but not that dumb." she shook her head, he had concerned her swinging her cane over his head.

"it doesn't matter, it was already done." lies sliding down his throat. and he knew even a strong face wasn't enough to hide the truth. she could see him bare.

"maybe if you weren't that stupid, you'd have managed to keep the only person that could handle you. but I'm never wrong so i guess you two did end up together in another lifetime."

"but i wanted them in this one."

"too bad, too late." it felt like a sucker punch, he wished for her to actually beat him with that cane at least it'd be less hurtful and heavy. again the urge to leave was strong. and it was getting stronger when that man stood there, and when you walked he couldn't take his eyes off, he couldn't even blink. you never looked so breathtaking. and there he knew that his place didn't get stolen, but earned by someone else. someone better than him. someone that could make you happy and wouldn't make you hold on to a forsaken promise.

yesterday it was him proposing to you with his dead grandparents ring, today it was another one warping it around your finger. the image will hunt him to his death.

the him that promised, the him who kisses you injures, the him who saw you in sunset above the sea. was still there, that version was still swirling within him somehow. and it only shon with your light only. the light that will never be his anymore.

to sae you'll forever be his everlasting one in the stars.

"goodbye." he hopped he chose you in another life.

lmao this is trash mb yall

[squadmuse]

ONE DAY, Part II

A WILL HALSTEAD X READER FIC (FT. JAY HALSTEAD X READER; PLATONIC)

A/N: Yet again a huge shout out to @deanstead for being such a great person and helping me out!! Hope everyone loves this… I’m a sucker for dad!Will and it’s my first time ever writing him

It was pandemonium.

Even with Jay’s entire body covering you, all you could hear were screams and cries for help and the shrill sound of the ambulances rushing to the scene alongside the police cars.

Everything seemed like it was starting to blur when the blue eyes of your brother-in-law swam into your view as he pulled you up off the ground and started checking you over.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re okay!” said Jay worriedly, looking everywhere twice to make sure you had been not been hit by any of the flying bullets that had cut through the sky. “Are you hurt, does the baby feel okay?”

You tried to steady your breathing as Jay held your hands, but it didn’t seem to be helping even though you had someone as patient and calm as your brother-in-law. “W-What h-happened?” you asked shakily, looking around as best you could. Mama Garcia’s restaurant was ruined, the windows were shattered and there were quite a few injured people sitting or laid around being attended to.

“Gang drive-by shooting, don’t worry about it, I’ve got Voight looking into it,” he stated as he followed your own gaze, and he pulled you away. “Hey, let's get you two away from this and checked out.”

Nodding, you agreed and walked out the door with Jay slowly guiding you. As you reached the ambulance, you were relieved to see the kind face of your best friend Sylvie there.

“Oh I didn’t know you’d be here, Y/N! I’m going to check you both over real quick,” said Sylvie quickly as she started checking your vital signs and blood pressure readings with efficiency and calmness. Jay still stood beside you diligently, his eyes following every move that Sylvie made.

“Are Y/N and the baby okay, Sylvie?” asked Jay seriously. He didn’t like how long it was taking your best friend to clear you, even though he knew she’d never rush a diagnosis. Sylvie shook her head at his words.

“I’m going to send you to Med, okay sweetheart,” smiled Sylvie gently. “Your blood pressure is still high, and I want to get scans too.”

Now it was your turn to feel worried, and you clamped down on your brother in all but blood’s hand tight. “All I’ve got is a sore back, and I’ve had that for the last week or so, we’re both fine,” you reasoned, looking between the two. Both of them shook their heads. There was going to be no fighting these two that you knew already. Jay Halstead and Sylvie Brett were seriously stubborn people, but you loved them all the same.

It didn’t take long for Sylvie to load you into her rig, Jay helping out as much as possible as Violet pulled Ambulance 61 out to drive. Sighing, you looked over at your brother-in-law who was staring at the floor.

“Jay… this wasn’t your fault,” you said softly, reaching out to hold his hand. He smiled a small smile yet shook his head.

“I know that, but I should’ve just brought you the food home, then you two wouldn’t be on your way to Med,” he reasoned, squeezing your hand gently.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was my choice, and if you hadn’t been there then we’d both probably be dead right now!” you stated, but it didn’t do anything to calm Jay, and made him shudder violently.

“Don’t say that, I’ve already got to answer to Will when we arrive!” he replied tensely as he ran his hands through his short brown hair.

Both you and Sylvie looked at Jay in surprise.

“You haven’t phoned Will yet?” asked Sylvie, first from where she sat entering information into her iPad.

Jay shook his head. “It’s not that I’ve not tried, the git isn’t answering his cellphone,” he replied, and he ran his hands up and down his thighs anxiously.

“He might just be busy then, but Will will be grateful that we had you there, Jay,” you stated, holding onto one of his hands to stop him fretting. Even before you were pregnant, Jay had been extremely protective of you and now that you were, he would get bouts of anxiety over anything happening to you both.

Sylvie hummed quietly. “I can always send a message to Maggie, it goes direct through the system, that is if you’d like?”

You and Jay nodded, so Sylvie quickly went ahead and did it. At least then Will wouldn’t be surprised at the ambulance bay with your appearance.

———

It was as you were quietly talking away with Jay and Sylvie about the baby when you felt a pain like no other, and you couldn’t help but cry out.

Instantly, both of them were at your side and Sylvie was right away checking your vital signs and checking your body. “What’s wrong?” asked Jay as you clenched down on his hand again.

You couldn’t answer him as you could only clench your teeth as Sylvie poked and prodded with different machines and her hands. A broad smile lit up her face and she looked quite happy.

“I think someone is going into labor!” she said excitedly.

You sat there in shock before turning to look at Jay… but you couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from your lips as you saw his expression. He had turned white, and his mouth literally hung open. It was like nothing you’d ever seen before on Jay Halstead’s face.

“Please tell me you’re joking, Sylvie!” you said with your eyes wide. You did not want to give birth in an ambulance, and especially without your husband at your side. She shook her head.

“Contractions are coming fast, sorry!” smiled Sylvie as she inserted some low level pain medicine into you. “But we’re nearly there, and then you’ll be up in OB.”

Shakily, you nodded and closed your eyes.

Today had turned out to be one of those days.

———

Unsurprisingly, Will was the first person to open up your ambulance.

“Oh god, Y/N! What happened?” exclaimed your husband as he helped take your gurney out of the ambulance. He looked like he had run a marathon and his hair looked even crazier than usual.

You sniffled. “I don’t know Will! One minute Jay and I were having lunch together, then there were bullets flying everywhere,” you replied, cuddling into Will best you could as he and Sylvie rushed you into Med, with Jay following close behind. “I’m so sorry!”

Will shook his head affectionately, and smiled softly. “Hey, hey, I’m just glad you and our little guy are safe, that’s all that matters okay?” he stated, caressing the side of your face. “Jay and you have nothing to apologize about.”

Sighing, you nodded, watching as Will added even more monitors to you as Sylvie removed the ambulance ones. You smiled as she went to leave.

“I’m coming back, okay!” she giggled. “I’m not missing anything about this baby, and especially not the birth!”

You chuckled. Sylvie had been absolutely thrilled when you had announced the pregnancy and thrown herself into helping plan and organize the baby shower, gift registry, nursery, outfits and more. “Wouldn’t dream of it!” you replied, watching as the blonde walked away back to the rig with Violet.

“Anyway Mama, it looks like we’re going to get you up to Obstetrics,” grinned Maggie as she entered your treatment room. “Baby Red is on the way!”

Will and you both chuckled. It felt like the entire Emergency Department was excited about your and Will’s little one’s imminent arrival, as they had been for months, much like Sylvie and Jay. “Here’s hoping it’s an easy birth,” you said, leaning against Will’s side.

Now it was Jay’s time to chuckle and you turned to look at him. “Oh, you haven’t heard the story about Will’s birth?” he asked, and you shook her head. “Well apparently Mom was in labor for twenty-four hours, but you’re much less stubborn than my brother so you’ll do much better.”

Oh, sweet shiitake mushrooms.

———

It had not been quite so twenty-four hours, but after twenty-three hours, you and Will had finally become parents.

Madeleine Theresa Halstead had been born, screaming at the top of her lungs and covered in blood and fluids, but she was the most beautiful thing you and Will had ever seen in your lives.

Will had cried as he had cut her cord and brought her over to you. Your daughter was absolutely tiny, with minuscule fingers and toes and the cutest little nose too. Coming in at 7lb 8oz, she was absolutely perfect.

“Here we were thinking she was going to be a little boy,” chuckled Will softly as he sat beside you in your hospital bed. You had been moved into a private room, and it was just what you, Will and little Madeleine needed. “Somehow Gabriel Patrick Halstead doesn’t quite fit.”

You smiled, but you hadn’t stopped smiling ever since you had brought your daughter into the world. “Jay knew, somehow,” you whispered as Madeleine slept in your arms, swaddled in the blanket that you had knitted months ago.

“My brother, the pregnancy guru,” laughed Will as he kissed your head, watching to make sure Madeleine didn’t stir. “We still good on who we picked for godparents?”

“Of course, they’re perfect.”

Will nodded. “I think Maggie has had everyone gather in the waiting room. Do you want to bring them in?” he asked. You nodded silently and watched as Will wandered out the door.

Cuddling Madeleine closer to you, you sighed. You had never felt so much happiness and love as you had for your little girl. “You’ve got a great daddy, Maddie,” you whispered to her. “We’re so lucky to call him ours.”

Madeleine grumbled softly in her sleep, and you could only whimper a soft noise as she somehow made the same face as Will, her father, did whenever he was asleep. It seemed she even had even inherited his auburn hair also.

You were still absolutely enamored with your daughter when the door to your room opened up again and a small group of people slowly made their way in alongside your husband.

Jay was there, grinning. It seemed he had bought the biggest pink teddy bear he could find. It was easily four times the size of his niece, your daughter. Sylvie was there too, bubbling away with anticipation about getting to meet your daughter. Matt was at her side, grinning happily as he held onto a big pink balloon and white bunny rabbit toy. Maggie had come and so had April, Connor and Daniel, some of your and Will’s closest friends at work. It seemed that word had spread fast that the newest Halstead had been born, and the first Halstead girl in three generations to boot. Cindy and Christopher Herrmann were there, also bearing gifts, and so were Kim and Adam with their little girl Makayla, who was asleep in her father’s arms.

Will quickly sat down beside you, and you softly placed Madeleine into her father’s strong arms.

“Everyone, we’d like you all to meet our daughter, Madeleine Theresa Halstead,” said Will proudly, as he smiled down at his little girl in his arms. The little group cheered so softly and one by one made their way to meet the newest member of their family of sorts.

“Congratulations, she’s absolutely adorable,” grinned Jay as he hugged Will, taking care not to hurt his niece any way. “Mom and Dad would be so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Jay. I just wish Madeleine could’ve met them.”

“She’s going to know them in a way, we’ll make sure of it. It’s a nice touch to give mom’s name to Madeleine as her middle name too.”

Madeleine had woken up in Sylvie’s arms, and yet she had not made much of a noise. Her little gaze seemed to be enamored by your best friend and you giggled. “I think that means she likes her godmother Auntie Sylvie!”

Sylvie’s eyes bugged out of her head at your words. “Oh… you chose me?” she asked softly, tears pooling in her eyes at the fact you and Will wanted her as Madeleine’s godmother.

Will nodded. “If it hadn’t been for you and Matt actually getting us two together, we’d not be here,” he told Sylvie, who nodded, before carefully passing the baby to her boyfriend, who expertly held the baby with a smitten tenderness. It was true, even though you and Will worked in the same hospital department, it had taken so long for either of you to make a move that Sylvie had taken it upon herself, roping in Matt too, to get you both together.

Sylvie hugged you tight. "I already love that little angel so much. She's so precious!" she smiled, wiping her tears. "Who would've thought that what I did would cause all this?"

“That one day was all it took, and now look where we all are.”

[jedi-enthusiast]

Hello. How are you?

Can you raise an explanation as to why The Jedi Padawans were sent to fight on the front lines alongside The Clones and Jedi Knights/Masters, please?

Of course, the Padawans need Masters but I'd assume there would probably be enough inside The Temple to teach them, despite the war...

I know The Jedi wouldn't want to send their children onto the front lines, so I'm trying to think of how they'd ended up there anyway.....

Thanks in advance (if you do have an explanation. If not, thanks anyway).

Good night/morning!

Hey, I'm doing alright---I'm sick rn, but I'm hoping that it'll pass soon so I can get back to my normal shenanigans <3

So the out-of-universe explanation is just that TCW was a show made for kids and so there are gonna be kid characters doing all the cool fighting and battle stuff. Is it pretty unrealistic? Yeah, but this is also a show set in space with magic powers and laser swords lol

In-universe things get a little more complicated and we kind of have to make our own assumptions based on what we already know.

In TPM we see that children...aren't really treated like children, from a young age they're actually treated more like teenagers or even adults. Padme is the queen of an entire planet at 14, a job so dangerous that she has 12 body-doubles who pretend to be her so she doesn't get killed, ready to die in her place---body-doubles who are probably of a similar/the same age. Anakin is allowed to compete in a pod-race on Tatooine at age 9, a race that is shown multiple times to be dangerous and get people killed, and it's treated as completely normal by both his mother and his opponents.

So we can probably deduce that, while the children are obviously still children, they're expected---and shown---to be more capable and independent than they would irl. They hold a level of maturity and responsibility at a younger age, and this is completely normal in the SW universe.

So the explanation is that padawans' ages don't really come into question.

We see from how Anakin and Obi-Wan react to Ahsoka, who is 13 in TCW movie, when she introduces herself as a padawan---they're shocked and view her as too young to be one, with Anakin continuously calling her a "youngling." From that, we can deduce that generally padawans are older than 13 and---in a universe where a 14 year old is seen as mature enough to rule a planet and other 13-15 year olds are mature enough to possibly die for said ruler---taking a padawan who is, say, 15+ into battle isn't really odd or seen as morally questionable.

As George Lucas says regarding Ahsoka being brought into the war, "she's being trained as a Jedi Knight, she's got this."

And so do all of the other padawans, maybe more so since a lot of them are probably older than her. They're Jedi, they're not younglings anymore, they can handle the responsibility and---if they can't---they're still just students and their master is right there to protect and teach them.

That seems to be the canon intention, at least. If you want to take a more nuanced look at it through the lense of them actually being children, rather than the canon intent of them being more mature children who can handle these things, you're probably going to have to come up with your own reasons why the Jedi would bring the padawans into it. In my fics, I usually go with the idea that the Jedi didn't have much of a choice, just due to what their training is/does as well as different concerns with leaving them at the Temple, as well as pressure from the Senate to have "every Jedi available" on the front lines---but you can obviously do something different, if that doesn't sing to your tune.

I hope my ramble answered your question <3

[iamnmbr3]

Draco's Motivations in the Book 7 Room of Requirement Confrontation

I just reread the Fiendfyre sequence and based on a close reading Draco's motivations and actions are a lot more complex and sympathetic than I remembered. Not to mention, once again, here there be drarry.

First, the context:

After the incident at Malfoy Manor, we know from Harry's psychic connection to Voldemort and from the Carrows' overheard discussion that Voldemort's wrath was exceptionally terrible. The Malfoy family became virtual prisoners in their own homes for months and were subjected to especially brutal (even by Voldemort's standards) torture that was also likely quite protracted. Lucius has visible marks on him months later - which, given what we know about magic in that world, really speaks to the level of what has been going on. While he probably got the worst of it, it's certain that none of his family members escaped unscathed. After their other failings they have at this point probably permanently fallen out of favor and have nothing but a (likely short) life of misery to look forward to.

Draco bears a lot of responsibility for this state of affairs since it was he who chose not to identify Harry. This likely adds to his sense of conflict as his conscience tells him one thing and everything he has ever been taught tells him something else. He presumably feels responsible for the suffering his family (we know from book 6 that he does genuinely care about them) has to endure.

Not to mention that he himself is suffering along with them. It would be unsurprising therefore if he felt tempted to "rectify" his earlier moment of what he probably perceived as weakness and made a last ditch attempt to save his parents' (and his own) lives and prestige. While Harry has been taught that love and mercy are noble and valuable impulses, Draco has not. In his world love and mercy are called weakness.

Quite possibly as he suffered and faced death alongside his family, part of him must have felt ashamed of the impulses that led to his choices when Harry was a prisoner at the Manor. Everything he has been taught tells him that Voldemort's victory is inevitable and that his moment of shameful weakness has accomplished nothing except to fail his own family and condemn them (and himself) to a likely short life filled with suffering.

At most what we see in the Room of Requirement is a replay of what we saw on the Astronomy Tower - where Draco is deeply conflicted and when confronted with the reality of violence in support of Voldemort cannot go through with it even under tremendous pressure and even though his failure to carry out these acts of violence will inflict danger and suffering on himself and his loved ones.

But, is that even what actually happens? In my opinion, the answer is "no."

The scene in question:

If we actually look at the text it's not even clear that's what's going on at all. Draco's motives are ambiguous at best here. The scene starts when Harry is stretching out his hand to take the diadem. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle come up behind him and he is completely unaware of them. Draco then announces their presence, alerting Harry that he is being watched. He could've very easy simply stunned Harry or attempted to put the Imperius Curse on him (or killed him) while his back was turned. But he didn't do any of those things. Instead he talks, thereby ruining the element of surprise.

And that's not typical of Draco at all when he actually wants to attack Harry. He's never beaten Harry in a face-to-face confrontation. (In fact, the last time he tried - in 6th year - he almost ended up dead.) The two times he has managed to incapacitate Harry - when he petrified him on the train in 6th year and when he hid and caught Harry for Umbridge with a tripping jinx in 5th year - he did so by using the element of surprise to his advantage.

Given that Draco knows that Harry is a very formidable opponent (AND that Harry's friends are nearby) if he truly simply wanted to capture or kill him, announcing his presence is the last thing he would ever do. Then he says "That's my wand you're holding." He still doesn't cast any spells - not even to try to disarm Harry. He also doesn't say he wants to hand him over to Voldemort. He doesn't even tell Harry to drop his own wand, attempt to take him prisoner, or even threaten him.

It is Crabbe, not Draco who says "We're gonna be rewarded...We decided to bring you to 'im." Draco doesn't say anything about his own intentions other than that he wants his wand back - and we certainly know that even in 6th year he didn't trust Crabbe and Goyle, much less now, and thus is unlikely to speak openly in front of them. 

At this point Ron comes to investigate and Crabbe tries to use magic to cause a mountain of debris to fall on Ron and crush him. Harry counters the spell and Draco then grabs Crabbe's arm when he tries to repeat the spell. He gives as his justification the need to avoid the diadem being crushed but since we know he doesn't trust Crabbe it's likely this isn't truthful. Especially since Voldemort has not said anything about wanting the diadem (and even if it wasn't a Horcrux it likely wouldn't be damaged in any case).

Crabbe points out this very thing and Draco argues with him at which point Crabbe says "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your dad are finished." So arguably he was not even including Draco in the "We" he imagined would be rewarded. Crabbe then tries to use Crucio on Harry.

Draco then again intervenes and tries to stop him. 

"STOP" Malfoy shouted at Crabbe, his voice echoing through the enormous room. "The Dark Lord wants him alive--"  

He doesn't even just say it. He shouts. We rarely see Draco shout. He is someone who generally keeps his deeper emotions hidden - it's why he's so naturally gifted at Occlumency to the point that he is powerful enough at a young age to lie to both Snape and Voldemort.

What he says here doesn't really even make sense because Goyle isn't even trying to kill Harry; he's just trying to hurt him. However Draco is so distressed by this that he actually starts yelling, something we NEVER see him do at ANY other point in the book. "The Dark Lord wants him alive" is also exactly what Snape says to Bellatrix as they flee in book 6, and we know that Snape's real intent was to protect Harry with a believable excuse. It's the only thing Draco could reasonably say in that moment as a justification. 

Crabbe (rather sensibly) points out that 1) he didn't even try to kill Harry and 2) Voldemort ultimately wants Harry dead so it probably doesn't matter that much. This makes perfect sense. And yet Draco is inordinately concerned with preventing harm to Harry & Co rather than with taking any action to capture or even disarm any of them.

Clearly he did not expect to lose control of Crabbe and Goyle like this and as a result is now losing control of the situation (and himself). (Unlike Harry, Draco is more of a planner and is not as good at reacting in the moment.) Also the possibility that Harry could be killed seems to drive him nearly to the point of hysteria - rather like how Ron reacted to Hermione being in mortal peril at the Manor. This is not just a general aversion to killing. This is something more. He finds the idea of Harry dying truly unbearable. (I don't need my ships to be canon; this one just happens to be.)

At this point they start fighting and Draco loses Narcissa's wand. Wandless, he STILL tries to intervene. Crabbe and Goyle are both aiming their wands at Harry and Draco once again starts yelling -  "Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" and is obviously in significant distress and is not at all happy with what is going on. 

After that the Fiendfyre gets loose and the rest of the scene goes down without much dialogue.

At NO POINT does Draco 1) actually say he wants to hand Harry to Voldemort OR  2) attempt to attack Harry or Ron or Hermione at all OR 3) use his Dark Mark to call Voldemort OR 4) tell anyone he's seen Harry after they get out of the Room of Requirement - even in a later scene when he's been cornered by a Death Eater who is considering killing him he doesn't reveal this information even though that probably would've proven his loyalty or at the very least distracted the Death Eater.

Conclusions about Draco's motivations:

So, where does that leave us? What went down there and what was Draco trying to do?

We really have 3 options.

Option 1: Draco tried to hand Harry over to Voldemort in order to save himself and his family, got cold feet and couldn't really go through with it, and then lost control of the situation due to Crabbe and Goyle's changing loyalties. 

Verdict: Possible but unlikely given the remarkably bad job he does of it and how inconsistent his approach is with his usual MO. Even if we assume his heart wasn't in it you'd think he'd at least have got as far as disarming Harry before announcing his presence. Especially since Harry almost killed him last time they fought (and Draco probably doesn't know Harry didn't know what the Sectum Sempra curse would do.)

And if his heart WAS in it then then this makes even less sense since he not only didn't attack Harry while his back was turned but also didn't call Voldemort or even inform anyone that he'd seen Harry. 

Option 2:  Draco wanted to get himself captured in a way that looked convincing so that he could take the chance Dumbledore offered in 6th year, only it went quite badly wrong.

Verdict: This would be an interesting possibility but I think it's also unlikely as it's simply too risky. He doesn't know Harry was there on the astronomy tower or that Harry would make the same offer. His family would also likely be murdered if Voldemort realized this had happened.  

Option 3: Draco wanted to cut a deal in order to improve his family's situation without actually handing Harry over - perhaps he hoped for some kind of exchange where he could get his wand back and bring Voldemort the diadem as some kind of consolation prize - but overestimated his control over his cronies and lost control of the situation. 

Verdict: I actually think this works best given his behavior during the scene. He initiates a conversation because he wants information about what and where the diadem is (and what value it would have to Voldemort) and because he wants to make some offer along the lines of 'give me my wand and the diadem and we'll let you go.' This could get him what he wants and help his family without actually harming anyone.

Also it hedges his bets a bit because if Harry wins he will owe Draco. The problem of course is that Crabbe and Goyle aren't happy to just take orders anymore and have their own goals. At that point, instead of caving and going along with what Crabbe and Goyle want to do instead, Draco actually tries to intervene, albeit in a way that doesn't actually expose him as questioning Voldemort.  

Draco made his choice at the Manor. If he wanted to hand Harry over he would have. But he couldn't. He cares about him too much. But he also feels tremendous guilt and fear over the price he and his family are still paying for that decision. This is his attempt to try to fix things - to try to find a middle ground between the conflicting imperatives that are tearing him apart. The reality though, as he shortly discovers, is that there is no middle ground. And when he sees that, once again he chooses Harry.

[sophrosynesworld]

The Night Shift (Part 6)

Part One:

You exhale softly, swiping your badge over the scanner. A quick flicker of green replaces the red, followed by a sharp click that echoes down the otherwise silent corridor. Your fingertips brush against the cool, barely-blue walls as you walk, searching for something to keep you grounded. You’re exhausted, a bone deep type of tired. The thought of how much longer you can keep going nags at the edges of your mind.

A stretcher races past, a nurse from the burn unit on top performing relentless chest compressions as an alarm code begins to scream through the air. You pause, watching them vanish behind a curtain, the code team already in motion. You turn, forcing your legs to carry you down another hallway toward your unit.

You press the hand sanitizer dispenser, the cool gel spreading between your palms as you push through the last set of doors. Relief hits when you see the once blood-stained hallway now spotless.

“This is a professional workplace!” Haruto’s voice booms, startling you as he shakes a half-empty bag of chips. “Stealing food is a serious offense!”

"I wish he’d just get laid already," Airi's voice comes from behind, making you jump. She’s finally out of her scrubs, wearing a pair of denim jeans and an oversized hospital 10K t-shirt.

You chuckle, though it takes more effort than it should. "That would require him being nice first."

Airi smirks. “You think he’s going to track you down?”

“Dynamight?” You ask, unsure who she means, leaning against the wall as Airi rolls her eyes, her expression silently saying, of course.

“Who knows? I saw him earlier—he took a rough hit. They probably shipped him off to another hospital for treatment.”

Airi frowns, adjusting her oversized tote bag before crossing her arms as she follows you toward the ambulance entrance. You stop at the back, joining the line of residents as they wait, leaning against the wall while watching the incoming victim. The morning sun streams through the large bay windows, a reminder that you're now 19 hours into this shift.

“Aren’t you off work?” you ask, giving her a puzzled look. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m waiting for Naomi. We’re going to walk home together.”

You glance down at your watch, cracking a joke about your overtime pay, but Airi doesn’t respond. You turn to ask her something, but her expression freezes you in place—her mouth slightly open, eyes wide as she reaches for your hand.

“What is it?” you ask, but she doesn’t answer. Her gaze is locked on the entrance. Your gaze shifts to follow where she’s looking, your mouth falling open in disbelief.

“Holy shit.”

Dynamight stumbles into the ambulance bay, clutching his abdomen, his hair matted with blood and hero costume torn. Frantic crimson eyes scan the room—until they land on yours.

His mouth opens, a silent plea trembling on his lips as he stumbles forward, one hand outstretched, desperate.

“Please.”

The EMTs rush in alongside a gurney, guiding it toward the trauma bay. “Male, mid-twenties. Presenting with hematemesis. Fluctuating between alert and unresponsive but has been out for the last 8 minutes ."

You’re already moving, pushing through the crowd toward Bakugo. His glassy eyes, aren’t on you anymore—they’re fixed on the gurney being wheeled away. You gently cup his face in your hands, pulling his focus to you.

“You don’t want to see that.”

"Please."

The word is so quiet, nearly swallowed by the chaos around the two of you.

"What is it? Are you hurt?" you ask, looking over him for injuries.

He shakes his head, voice barely a whisper. "Save him."

You look over to see the gurney turning into bay six. Airi’s voice fades into the background, drowned out by the relentless ringing in your ears as you edge closer to the bed. Time drags, each second an eternity until the moment you tug on your gloves.

"Blood pressure's dropping, 90/60 on arrival. Tachycardic, heart rate’s at 170. Peripheral pulses are weak. We’ve started an IV in route." Everyone grabs hold of the gurney, moving in unison as you prepare to transfer the patient to the bed. As you lift, your heart skips a beat. Your eyes widen for a moment. You didn't recognize him at first, but dying before you is the number one hero—Deku.

Suddenly, his monitors scream with alarms, signaling trouble.

"Prepare for intubation!" Another doctor calls out while your stethoscope presses against Izuku's chest, the distant, irregular rhythm thrumming beneath your fingertips. His lungs gurgle with fluid, the faint crackle of blood seeping into the tissue unmistakable.

"I’d like to take the lead on this, if that’s alright with you, Dr. Kobayashi," you say, barely glancing up to meet his concerned, older eyes.

"Are you sure?" Dr. Kobayashi questions, his brow furrowed. "You look worse than half the patients that roll into this place."

"Heart rate’s at 210 and rising!" someone from the crash team calls out, eyes glued to the monitor.

"Failure isn't an option with this one." you reply, laser-focused on the task at hand, unaware of the man watching you in agonizing slow motion. "Push 6 milligrams of Adenosine, followed by 20 of saline into the large vein."

"I can do this" You reassure him. You don't have a choice.

The nurse swiftly administers the dose, while the senior doctor takes a step back, waiting for your instruction.

"I need a 14-gauge needle!" you command, eyes flicking to the nurses around you. "Set up a central line and prep an ultrasound for his abdomen," you order before beginning the thoracostomy.

The team falls in sync with you, trusting your lead without question. Your mind races, analyzing every possible outcome, desperate to pull Midoriya back from the edge of death.

Then his heart monitor flatlines.

"He’s in cardiac arrest!" someone shouts.

But you don’t hesitate. "Start compressions!"

Sakura jumps into action, beginning CPR as someone else gels the defibrillator handing the paddles off to you.

"Clear!" you shout, pressing the paddles to his chest.

His body jerks with the shock, but the flatline holds steady, unmoved.

The room is a blur of frantic motion and deafening alarms, but one voice cuts through the chaos.

"Get up, damn it! Don’t you dare die on me, Deku!" Katsuki's voice is raw, choked with emotion as he struggles against two other men both trying to hold him back. Katsuki’s wild, desperate eyes are locked on Midoriya’s limp body.

"Bakugo, stop! They’re doing everything they can." The number 6 hero, Red Riot, tries to comfort him, his face etched with pain as he tightens his grip on Katsuki’s arm, urging him to calm down. Beside him, the 14th hero, Chargebolt, rests trembling hands on Katsuki’s shoulders, his own eyes brimming with unshed tears.

But Katsuki can’t be consoled. His voice cracks as he yells, "Why the hell isn’t she using her quirk?! She could save him!"

You hear him, feel the weight of his accusation like a punch to the chest. But you can’t look at him. Not now.

You close your eyes for a split second, steadying yourself. Your quirk could help, but with how weak you are, you're not sure how far you could make it.

"Charge to 250."

Another shock. Another flatline.

Katsuki’s voice pierces the air again, louder, more desperate. "Do something!" His knees nearly buckle, Kirishima barely holding him upright as the anguish in his voice shatters what little resolve you have left.

"I know you can do it," Katsuki pleads, as his gaze locks onto you. "Why aren’t you helping him?"

You hesitate, hands trembling, torn between the logical part of your mind and the emotional whirlwind inside you. You want to help. You want to save him.

"Clear!" you shout again, trying to block out Katsuki’s voice, trying to focus on Midoriya.

Another jolt.

Another flatline.

How long can you hold back before risking everything?

The decision hits you like a wave. You drop the paddles, your hands trembling as you press them to Midoriya’s chest. The flatline still wails, cutting through your soul, but you close your eyes and push past the noise, letting your quirk flood through you. Warmth spreads from your fingertips, coursing into Midoriya’s body.

Your energy surges forward, a lifeline desperately trying to knit together the broken pieces inside him. You feel his cracked ribs, his blood soaked lungs, the trauma to his spine. You pour everything you have into him, your breath growing shallow as the drain begins to take its toll.

Katsuki’s figure becomes distant, just a murmur in the background as your vision begins to blur. You barely hear Airi and Rina pleading. Everything fades into the background, your slowing pulse pounding in your ears, your hands now numb. The world tilts, darkness edging into your vision.

And then—pain.

A sudden jolt courses through you, like lightning striking your core. Your eyes snap open, gasping for air as your heart races. Your quirk explodes with power, racing out of your palms.

You stumble, barely holding yourself up, turning your head to see the figure standing beside you. Chargebolt has pushed though the staff, his hand lightly resting on your arm, electricity still sparking from his fingertips. His eyes are wide with concern.

"I hope I didn't hurt you Doc," he says, eyes wide and bloodshot. "I think this might work."

The electric charge buzzing through your body reignites your senses, snapping you back to focus. Denki channels his power into you, not unbearably painful, just enough to give you the necessary strength.

With a renewed surge of energy, you press your hands back onto Midoriya’s chest. Your quirk flows again, stronger this time, bolstered by Denki’s electricity. You feel the pieces of Midoriya’s body slowly coming together.

His chest stirs beneath your hands.

"Come on," you whisper, your heart pounding. "Come back to us."

Katsuki stops yelling for a moment, his eyes widening as he watches. You can feel the weight of everyone’s hope pressing down on you.

Then—a flicker. Midoriya’s heart monitor beeps once.

then twice.

"I’ve got rhythm!" someone calls out, their voice distant, almost muffled. Dr. Kobayashi quickly steps in, taking over as you reel from the effort.

A wave of cheers follows as you remove your hands and step back, but it feels detached, like it's happening underwater. Your legs move on autopilot, guiding you back too the sterile corridor, past the buzzing fluorescent lights that feel too harsh.

You stumble, instinctively scanning your badge into the isolated hallway, the one that leads to the breakroom. Each step feeling heavier than the last. Sweat drips down your face, stumbling as you instinctively reach for the wall, trying to steady yourself. The world is spinning too fast.

The sounds of the hospital fade into nothingness as blackness swallows you whole.

Tags: Tags: @simplyraeblue @moonfloweronmars @kalulakunundrum @froggy-crystal @msjaeger @crystalssncw @dragonscribble @gina239 @abcdefbeom @bakugonnathrowitback

[kazuhahalol]

Hey queen, I was wondering if you could write some more Kurapika headcannons? It could be about anything!! Thanks you so much if you do!!⭐️✨⭐️

Kurapika General Headcanons P.2 ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

thank you so much for requesting (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ! I’m sorry if these headcanons aren’t as good as the previous ones. I was a bit messy today.

warnings: none

❥ The poor boy is sleep deprived. With the pressure of avenging the Phantom Troupe, alongside the haunting memories and nightmares of his clan, he barely gets any rest.

❥ Does not trust easily. Young and rather naive in season one, he made good friends with Killua, Gon, and Leorio. In the succession arc, he seems a lot more vigilant. It took him a good month or two for him to become comfortable around you.

❥ Natural born leader.

❥ Often has an identity crisis. Sometimes he’ll dwell on what’ll happen to him after he kills the Phantom Troupe. Not if, he knows he’s going to kill them. He doesn’t know if he himself will die, or if he will have no reason to live after that, and it frightens him deep inside knowing he’s truly lost himself.

❥ Cannot cook for shit. In 1999, he literally rolled a live fish in some rice and called it dinner. He probably lives off of some granola bar he found on the black whale. I feel like he was eating better under Izunavi’s care, but now that he’s all alone, he’s probably not taking care of himself.

❥ Often feels guilty for the bonds he creates. He first started to feel it when Gon and Killua got caught in the Yorknew arc. He noticed that he’s doing pretty much nothing for his friends but get them in trouble, thus ignoring Leorio’s calls when Gon was in the hospital, not wanting them to get hurt again.

❥ Even though I said he was touch starved in my other post, I feel like he’s not the biggest fan of affection. He hasn’t felt it in years and may not be used to the feeling of someone’s hands on him, as he was caught off guard in the group photo in season one.

❥ Even though vengeance is the only thing on his mind, Kurapika has stated he will never stand with immoral acts. He has a wavering moral compass. His goal is to kill the Phantom Troupe and the Phantom Troupe only. He would never kill an innocent person, meaning he would not be a Yandere for you. (I know, I know, I like that trope too.)

❥ Refuses to look at himself in the mirror.

❥ He’s one of those people that hide their real laugh. He only has 25 seconds of screen time of him smiling, so we don’t hear him laugh often, but I bet your bottom dollar if you make him laugh enough on a good day, he’ll show you how he really laughs. In public, he may just give you a quiet chuckle or a smile.

❥ Holds grudges. I think this one’s pretty obvious. If you do something that annoys him, he’ll remember it and bring it up next time it’s convenient. He’s been deprived of social contact for 5 whole years, so he may not realize he’s being rude or toxic at times.

❥ Whenever there’s a family nearby, he stares enviously and wonders what life would be like if his family were still alive.

❥ Sees Pairo whenever he looks at Gon.

❥ Doesn’t really want kids nor is he in a mental state to have any. Once Kurapika kills the troupe, he’s certain he does not have that long left to live. He’ll wonder what it’s like to have a family of his own, but knows it’s not possible. He’d rather live on a secluded farm by himself or with the love of his life before he goes.

❥ Knows he needs help but will not ask for it. He knows this is something he must do alone.

❥ His ideal type would be someone understanding and patient. Physical attributes do not matter to him. What matters is someone who’s willing to stay with him through the trials life has given him.

❥ Liked Yahtzee as a kid.