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endthedream · 1 year ago

Text

hygge

pairing: model!niki x photographer!reader

summary: meeting at a time where the both of you need a supportive person the most, a beautiful friendship (or more) rises from similar struggles.

words: 6k

story colour: gray

notes: I know this story is shorter than the other ones but I still feel a bit awkward writing about Niki. I tried my best tho and hope all of you can enjoy this story! <3

masterlist of 'enhypen as jobs'

Hygge

noun

a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture).

If there was one word your father would describe you with it would be ‘vivacious’. You have always been full of life, walking around with a smile on your face and appreciating the small, little things in life. He called you a ray of sunshine, touched by the angels, and graced with the gift of never-ending happiness. He said you were his inspiration, his muse, his realization of how magical the world can be, and how there is always good in bad. He said you were everything he ever wished for in life.

He used to tell you stories about his travels around the world, places that he captured with the lens of his camera and people he remembered in his heart. Your father told you everything about the world, the cultures, and the unimaginable love he felt when he visited those places. How inspiration was at every corner, how he could see beauty in the tragedies of the world and how everything he felt changed him. He was just a little boy, when he thought he knew the world he never even saw before, but when he came back, he was a man, full of knowledge and respect.

One place he still carries deeply in his heart is Denmark. Not only because it is a beautiful country, so full of wonders and stories, but also because there was one thing he learned from his visit, one thing he still carries with him. ‘Hygge’ is what it is called. A word he now lives by. A word with a greater meaning that inspired the way he was thinking. Hygge is finding happiness in the little things in life. He was the one that taught you from when you were a child that happiness is made out of those small little moments rather than just grant events, finding magic in the ordinary, commonplace, imperfections. You think that he was the one that turned you into the vivacious person you are today.

Your father stopped traveling the world when he met your mom, but his love and passion for photography stayed. He sent his pictures to every agency, working his way up until this point. Until he started taking pictures of the most famous people in the world. It’s not something that he originally wanted or planned, but it is definitely something he enjoys. Because instead of traveling to meet people around the world, he invites them to his studio and takes photos of them. He has met dozens of people without even having to leave town.

It’s been two weeks since you ‘officially’ started working for your dad. You have been helping him at his studio ever since you can remember, and when he offered you to work for him full-time, you couldn’t say no.

Much like him you love photography, always taking pictures of everything and everyone. It has become your thing, your passion as well. And while working at your dad’s studio isn’t the kind of photography you originally wanted to do, it is a start that will hopefully take you far. Like him, you want to travel the world, appreciate every single country and capture everything you see with the lens of your camara. You want to have a blog where you can post those pictures and write about the experiences you have during your travels. You want to inspire people to follow their dreams, to pick up a camera and express themselves, to find who they really are. You want to be able to close your eyes, take a deep breath and know that the moment you open your eyes again, the view that will wait for you is worth every single dollar on this planet.

“You are daydreaming again.”, you can hear the voice of your father right next to your ear, making you snap out of your thoughts and turn around to him. He is grinning from ear to ear, arms folded.

“Sorry.”, you say, showing him a sheepish smile before looking back into the computer right in front of you, showing a picture of a woman who came in her just two days ago. “I am almost done with editing though. How do you like it?”

Your father leans down, eyes skimming over the picture for a few seconds before looking at you again. “I like how you enhanced the colors of her dress, but I think it’s too dark. We wanted to go with a more tropical, summery vibe and now it looks like fireworks on a stormy night. Brighten the picture and see what you can do to get rid of the white dots in the background.” You never said working for your dad was easy. He is your loving, kind, devoted father, but he is also a businessman. He knows what looks good and what doesn’t and whenever he takes the pictures, he has an exact vision of how it has to turn out.

“Oh, and we also got a last-minute photo shoot for tomorrow. I think this is your chance to show off your photographer skills.” In an instant you spin around in your chair, eyes wide and mouth hung open.

“What? But dad, I’ve never taken professional photos before. What if I mess up the shot and you will get a bad reputation?” Until recently, photography was a hobby to you, just capturing small things you saw while taking walks, taking pictures of your friends and family or sometimes even creating abstract pictures, but never have you ever done it professionally. Not with an expensive camera or twelve lights around you or with a model in front of you. God, especially not with a model that has probably high expectations in you.

“Y/n, sweetheart, this is a good opportunity for you. And I will just be two rooms away, if you struggle or have any questions, you can always get me. But you will never make it if you don’t step over your own boundaries. How will you travel the world and capture everything with a lens, when you can’t do it right now? That’s how you learn it and that’s how you grow within it. Don’t see this as a challenge, see this as an opportunity to come out big into the world of photography.” It’s quiet for a moment, you taking the time to think about your fathers’ words and your father taking the time to study your face. He knows that this is a big step for you, but he needs to push you over your own boundaries and help you over the fear of failing.

“Okay, yeah, okay, you are right, dad. I can do this. Who will I have the photoshoot with?” Placing one hand comfortingly on your shoulder, your dad smiles proudly at you. You love that look on his face, the love and pride radiating from it. It fills you with joy and the determination to always give your best in every situation. It has made you turn into the efficient and hard-working person you are today.

“His name is Niki Nishimura. He is a model from Japan, and I thought that this would be perfect for you since the two of you are the same age. I think that you will be able to hit it off perfectly.” There is something in you that stops for a second. You have heard of Niki before from girls in your class, have seen the covers of magazines he is on and commercials on the tv. He is popular, well, more than that actually. Niki is the face of the most well-known brands, walks on fashion week catwalks and on top of that is known for his sweet and polite personality. He is the whole package, and you are going to meet him tomorrow.

“Are you okay?”, your father asks you after you’ve been silent for a while. “Do you know Mr. Nishimura?”

“Know him?”, you say, voice suddenly rising. “Dad he is so popular. Everyone knows him. How do you expect me to do a photo shooting with him when he has literally been on every single magazine I see? How am I supposed to keep my cool when he walked for fashion week in Paris? Dad, this is a huge responsibility, I can’t do that.”

“No, you cannot change your mind now. Y/n, what happened when you said ‘Yeah, dad, you are right. I can do this. Thank you for giving me this wonderful opportunity. You are the best dad in this whole world, and everyone should be jealous because they don’t have such a kind, loving, fantastic, talented, handsome father like I do.’”, he says, mimicking your voice in a high-pitched tone, and you can’t hide the small grin on your lips.

“First of all, that’s not how I sound. Second, you are so full of yourself.” You dramatically roll your eyes as you let your head fall into your arms. “And third, that was before I knew the photo shoot was going to be with the freaking Niki Nishimura. This changes things, dad, this changes things drastically.”

“Y/n, stop being so hard on yourself. Famous or not, that boy is still a human being. He is the same age as you are, so don’t think of him any differently. This is the first lesson you have to learn in this kind of work. Celebrities are humans too. They are just known by more people, but they go to the toilet like you, and they probably also do dance parties in their room late at night when they think their dads are asleep.” Your cheeks turn red as you hear the last sentence, not having known that your dad actually heard you dancing late at night in your room before. But before you can open your mouth and defend yourself, your dad continues. “They are like you and me, sweetheart. So, don’t worry, okay? If anyone can do this, then you. I believe in you, with all my heart.”

Your hands are shaking as you set up the camera. The lights are already on and directed right at the boy in front of you, who is currently watching you with attentive eyes as you fiddle around with the tripod. You were aware that Niki is known for his respectful personality, but when he walked into your dads’ studio, you didn’t expect him to be this… shy. He really seemed like a little boy who lost his parents in a supermarket. Niki was barely able to mumble a quick hello to you and tell you his name.

“Are you ready?”, you ask him, looking up at the boy who quickly- almost as if he was caught doing something wrong- looks down at the ground, nodding his head. “Okay, I’m just going to fix this light, since I think it makes you look to pale, and then we can start.”

Without waiting for an answer, you walk over to the softbox, changing its position a bit.

You are so caught up in your head that you get startled as you hear the boy in front of you start to talk. “Your hands are shaking.” It’s a simple sentence, a simple statement, but it makes you stop in your tracs. You look up at him yet again, noticing that he has taken off the sunglasses he has to wear for the shoot. There is something in his eyes- softness, you think- that makes you feel comfortable, less nervous.

“Yes.”, you stutter, clearing your throat a few times. “I’m nervous. This is my first time doing a real photo shoot, and I’m… just terrified that I will make a mistake.” Niki just nods at your words, taking a few seconds to look around the room, which gives you time to take in his outfit for this shoot. You haven’t really looked at him closely, not wanting to make him uncomfortable in any way.

He wears an all-black outfit, black slacks with a black shirt underneath a black blazer. The red and white collar of his shirt gives the outfit the finishing touch, hinting just a bit of color that is needed to compliment him. He looks amazing, dashing, like he is out of a movie- a James Bond movie probably. And you realize you have never seen a more gorgeous person in your whole entire life.

“I’m sure you will be doing just perfect.”, he says, giving you a tight-lipped smile at a thumbs up. You have to scoff slightly at his try of encouragement, showing him the same tight-lipped smile, before continuing to change the position of the softbox.

Somehow your hands are even more shaky as you stand in front of the camera again, your breaths come in shallow, and your vision become blurry. You have to close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm yourself down, trying to remind yourself that it’s just a photo shoot and that Niki is just a normal boy. But it doesn’t work, your mind is spiraling with all these bad thoughts and can’t stop them from coming over and over again, attacking and breaking you into pieces.

“Hey, are you sure you’re fine? You look like you are about to faint.” You hear Nikis’ voice, but it is somewhere in the distance, you can’t grasp if it is miles away or right beside you. The world starts turning and you really think you might actually lose control over your whole body.

“Yeah.”, you can hear your own voice, but you can’t feel your lips moving. “Just… just give me a second.” You stumble backwards, eyes still closed and somehow you land right on your behind. You don’t open your eyes, still too afraid of how your surroundings look. You don’t even flinch when you feel two hands taking yours.

“Listen to me, okay? Just follow what I am saying.” There it is again, Nikis voice. There is a mix of concern and determination in it, but you don’t have time to think about that any longer. “Breath in, and out. Again. In and out.” You continue this pattern for a few minutes. Niki guiding your breaths and you following his orders. And you can slowly start feeling yourself calm down.

When you open your eyes again, the world has stopped spinning, your heart beats at a normal speed again and your hands stopped shaking. Niki is sitting beside you, watching you carefully. “Thanks.”, you just mumble, letting out a long and deep sigh.

“No need to thank me.”

There is a comfortable silence surrounding the two of you, and for a moment you forget that there is someone sitting right beside you, until Niki speaks up again. “Did that happen to you before?”

You shake your head, letting a hand glide through your hair. “No, never. I think I was just worrying too much about everything that my body just couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Niki nods slightly, eyes fixated at a point in front of him. “I used to have panic attacks all the time. Before photo shootings, before catwalks, before pretty much anything.” You look at him as he speaks, seeing the pain on his face as he remembers past moments. “I was nervous, terrified of messing up, of not being good enough, of failing every single person in my life. Those thoughts never left my mind, and I did not know how to stop them. I felt helpless, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, afraid they might laugh at me or think I am a pathetic little boy.”

“What did you do to change that?”, you ask him, attentively listening to him and hanging onto every word that was coming out of his mouth.

“Well, I started believing in myself more. Because why would people book me for modeling, if they didn’t think I was good at it? I started telling myself that I am good enough, that I made it this far, because I am good at what I am doing. Believing in yourself is always the first step to a healthier mindset.” You watch as he nervously picks at the skin on his fingers, before continuing. “And then I started telling myself that we are all just tiny little humans on a tiny little planet in this big universe. Why would I waste my time caring about my looks, or the way I walk and talk, when nothing of that is important? I mean, it is important, but you know what I mean. It seems like nothing compared to the universe. Why should I care about the opinions of others, when I will probably never see them again in my life? Why would I give my precious time to people who will just waste it, if I can surround myself with nothing but happiness? After all, we are all just little humans having dreams and hopes, having a life of our own and chasing one thing. Happiness.”

There is a silent tear rolling down your cheeks as you hear his words, but you quickly wipe it away before he can notice it.

“And then I started to talk to people about my thoughts, and it helped so much. Other models told me about their worries, about their problems. And suddenly, I didn’t feel alone anymore. I felt understood, like someone tuck me into bed with a warm blanket and kissed my forehead.” There is a short moment where you both smile into the distance, caught in your own heads, before Niki directs his gaze back at you. “I’ve seen your dads’ work, that’s why I wanted to come here and get my pictures taken by him. And when he told my agency about you, his prodigy daughter, I knew that if a person as talented as him recommends you do the photo shoot with me, then you must be just as talented as he is. When I saw you today, saw the way you took so much care of the equipment and about every single person on this set, I knew that I wouldn’t want anyone else to take photos of me. You just have to believe in yourself more, trust yourself and your abilities and stop the spiral in your head. Stop thinking and just do what you love to do.”

“So, I went up to him and told him to get lost. I mean he is famous, yes, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat other people like that. Especially since my dad was having a photo shoot with him. Like be grateful that at least someone is taking pictures of you.” Niki laughs at your story, long having forgotten the hot chocolate in front of him. After your panic attack, Niki proposed a little break, so you took him to one of the best cafés in town.

“It’s so good that you gave him a piece of your mind. Sometimes fame really gets into peoples’ brains and they start thinking they are above anyone.” You nod your head, smiling at him widely and taking a bit of the cake you ordered. You close your eyes, enjoying the different flavors melting on your tongue. And when you open your eyes again, you find Niki staring at you, a fascinated look on his face. You show him a questioning look, swallowing another bite of your cake.

“I find it fascinating.”, he says, fork poking his own cake. “The way you seem to soak up every single small thing in life. Just a second ago, you looked like you were soaking up the flavor of this cake with your whole body. On the walk here, you stopped walking just to watch a bee on the flowers of the flower shop we passed by, and your eyes were actually sparkling. And it’s the way you talk about things, especially your dad. You have this way of making me feel like I was actually there with you throughout all your little stories. It’s just fascinating how much someone can enjoy life and all its little wonders.”

There is a faint tint of blush slowly creeping up your cheeks and you quickly try to hide it by covering your face with your hair. “Do you know the word hygge?” Niki shakes his head at your question, waiting for you to continue. “It’s a word from Denmark and it basically has the meaning of enjoying the small things in life and finding happiness in them. I learned it from my father and been living by it all my life.”

“That is so beautiful.” You can feel the air shift. Niki lowers his head, fork dropping beside his cake. “Sometimes I feel like my life is moving so far. I have to be somewhere new every single day. I rush from one place to another without having time to appreciate the stuff I get to see and do every single day. Everything moves so quickly, and I feel like I can’t just be a simple kid, living a simple life. I have to be a mature role model who knows everything and behaves perfectly at all times. I had to do that since I was fifteen. And it’s just… exhausting. Sometimes I just want to stop time and be… me. I want to appreciate things, stuff myself full of food until I’m nauseous, play pranks on my friends without being titled as mean. I want to act goofy without being called childish, even though I am still seventeen.”

Sniffling down your tears, you reach over to grab Nikis’ hand. “Listen to me, Niki. You are the bravest, most talented, kind-hearted person ever. Life isn’t treating anyone fairly, but we should not let that decide our whole future. If you really want to enjoy life to its fullest, then do it. Take a break, talk to your management or something like that. If you really want something, you can always get it, if you want deeply want it. People will always have something they won’t like about you, because they are jealous and miserable, but just remember that you don’t know those people and you never will. So, don’t let them decide who you are, and definitely don’t let them have power over who you want to be. Life is too short to waste it, and we won’t stay young forever. It’s important to enjoy every single little thing before it is too late.”

There is a single tear rolling down Nikis’ face, but he catches it with his thumb before it can land on the table. He takes a few breaths, calming himself down, before looking into your eyes again. He shows you a sad smile, the hand that is still holding yours squeezing in an appreciating manner. “Thank you so much for telling me all that. You don’t know how much this means to me, Y/N.”

“Don’t thank me for something like that, Niki. I just said what you needed to hear a long time ago.” A few seconds of silence fill the air, Niki just looks around, trying not to think too much about your words. He doesn’t want to tear up yet again. “Okay, before any of us will start bawling their eyes out, how about you finish your cake, and I will take you to a cool place?”

Nikis’ eyes widen at the scene in front of him. The towns autumn festival is known for being breathtaking, decorations of pumpkins, leaves and mushrooms everywhere, a fairy’s wheel laced with moos and fairy lights, games you can play at every corner and a big campfire where people laugh, talk, sing and grill marshmallows. Niki doesn’t know where to look first, his eyes trying to take in every single little thing at once, before eventually landing on you, again.

“This is, wow, Y/n, this is the coolest thing I have ever seen.” You smile brightly at him before tugging on his sleeve, silently telling him to follow you. You walk up to a stand selling waffles, smiling at the elderly guy.

“Hey, Mr. Kim. Can we have two waffles, and please give them a bit of extra chocolate sauce, my friend here has never tried your waffles before.”

“Y/n, my dear, anything for you.” Niki and you both watch as Mr. Kim prepares the waffles, adding sprinkles on them and even an extra amount of whipped cream. Before you can take out your wallet to pay, Mr. Kim shakes his head violently. “No, it’s on the house. You have never brought a friend here before. Enjoy the waffles, okay?” With red cheeks you nod at the kind man, taking the waffles from him and walking to a free table with Niki.

“So, you never brought a friend here, huh?” You can hear the teasing tone in Nikis’ voice, but you are too ashamed to look at him. It’s not like you never wanted to bring a friend here, but it just never felt right. Friends weren’t really a permanent thing in your life, having had too many bad experiences with them. And whenever you had a friend that you started to trust, you always felt like they would destroy this magical festival for you. But with Niki it was different. You just felt so comfortable with Niki, so understood. Niki is different than anyone you have ever met, and after his confession earlier, you just knew that you had to share this with him. You had to share this beautiful place with him.

“I never really had friends. Whenever I did, they only seemed to like me because my dad is somewhat known. They wanted to get some fame as well. So, I just stopped looking for friends. You are the first person I feel like could actually like me for me, you know.”

Niki smiles at you, for the thousands time today, taking a bite out of his waffle. “I already do like you for you, Y/n. And I really appreciate it that I am the first person you bring here. But I just want to say that, wow, these waffles are amazing. I feel like I’ve been kissed by an angel, like I am at the beach hearing the waves softly crash against the sand, like I am floating on a cloud, like I am a changed man.” You laugh at his words, holding your stomach and tipping your head back. Niki watches you, eyes trained on your face, and he realizes how much he loves being the reason for your laughter. “Like I want to marry this waffle, that’s how good it is. And then we have little waffle children running around, spreading sugary joy all over the world. And then me and this waffle will watch those waffle children grow up and have waffle children themselves. We will sit on the porch, in little rocking chairs and watch our waffle grandchildren play in the front yard.” Tears are flooding down your cheeks from laughing at his words. There are people staring at the two of you, but you don’t care, you just live in this moment together.

“And that cloud looks like a cat eating ice cream.” The sun is setting painting the sky in different shades of pink and yellow, as you stop at the top of the fairy’s wheel. This is your third time riding the fairy’s wheel, not caring about the amount of money you are spending on it. You subconsciously hug the unicorn plushie Niki has won you earlier- after at least twelve tries- tighter to your chest as you look up at the sky with him.

“Oh, and that cloud looks a big popcorn bucket.” Rolling your eyes at the boy sitting beside you, you can’t help the grin that creeps itself up on your lips.

“You are so bad at this, Niki.” He just chuckles at your comment, eyes focusing on you again. “It’s not a popcorn bucket it is obviously a dragon drinking a cup of Pepsi.”

“Okay, this is the first one that I cannot see, Y/n. How is this a dragon? It is just a big blob, nothing more.” Gasping at his words, you shake your head in disappointment at his lack of creativity.

“How could you say that about Mr. Dragon. Has he done anything to you? No, he hasn’t. He is just enjoying his Pepsi, and you are insulting him like that. I cannot believe you right now.” Niki tips his head back in laughter, wiping at his eyes.

“Thank you.”, he says between laughs, voice raised a few pitches higher than normally.

“For what?”, you ask him.

“For this day, Y/n. This has been the coolest day ever, and all that thanks to you. I never had so much fun, I never laughed so much and so hard. I swear my belly and my jaw hurt from laughing so much.” There is this happiness, this pride, filling your heart as you hear his words. You have never felt this way before, never had someone tell you such sweet words, and thanking you for company. You swallow your tears, blinking a few times up into the sky, before you can face him again.

“You’re welcome, Niki. I hope that you can have many, many more days like this one in the future with a lot of people all over the world. Because that is what you deserve.”

“Well, I hope I can have many more days like this as well with you, right? After this day we won’t just pretend we never met, we won’t just become strangers, right? This day will lead to an amazing friendship that will last until we are old and gray, right?” You smile at him, scooting over to him and softly taking his hand in yours.

“Of course, Niki. I won’t let you leave. You are stuck with me now.” You grin brightly at him, squeezing his hand appreciatively.

“Oh, no. I take back what I said. You scare me.”

“Nope.”, you say. “No take backs, Niki. This is only the beginning.”

“So, if you are that confident in our friendship? Will you do the photo shoot with me now?”

“Those photos are amazing, Y/n. God, I am so proud of you. You did everything just as I imagined it to be, even better actually. I knew you could do it.” Your father wraps you into a tight hug, holding you against him and a bright, proud grin on your face. Pride fills your entire body as you hear those words out of your father’s mouth. You have been editing those pictures, making them perfect, for the past few days, night and day, and knowing that it turned out amazing, was worth all the stressful hours.

“Thanks dad, but I don’t want to have all the credit. Without my muse I wouldn’t have been able to pull everything off.”

Your dad breaks the hug, giving you a stern- not serious- look. “Your muse, huh? I heard Niki and you got really cozy at the autumn festival. You can’t fool me; I have eyes and ears everywhere. I tell you, before anything he becomes your boyfriend, I want to formally meet him first. I want to know everything about this boy and then I will decide if he can date my precious daughter.”

“Dad!”, you complain, cheeks redder than the tomatoes your dad is growing in his garden. “It’s not like that. I mean not yet. We are friends, dad.”

“Yeah, but if, sweetheart, if he becomes your boyfriend, I want to meet him first.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Let’s just get out these photos.” With one last smile in your dad’s direction, you walk back to your desk, the pictures of Niki still on your screen. But before you can do anything, your phone ring tone breaks the silence in the room. Smiling as you see Nikis’ contact, you open the text message he sent you, seeing a picture of him at a zoo somewhere in Japanese with the caption ‘Enjoying the little things right now and thinking about you. I’m already counting down the days till we meet again’.

Holding the phone to your chest, you can’t help but grin like a lovesick idiot. Life is great, it’s hard and exhausting sometimes, but it’s great. And you can’t wait to continue enjoying the small little moments it gives you with Niki by your side.

Bonus

“Only three more days.” Nikis’ voice says through the speaker of your phone as you look at the screen of your laptop.

In three days, it will be the fifth time you and Niki will attend the autumn festival in your town. It’s already been five years since you met, five years since you grew up together and five years since you started to enjoy the little things in life together. It still feels surreal to you, having him by your side for such a long time now.

“Three more days till I see you again, Y/n.” The excitement in his voice is evident and it warms your heart, fills it with so much appreciation for the boy on the other side of the planet. Niki is currently in Paris, attending his last fashion week for this year, and you are in Thailand, one of the countries you always wanted to visit. You have taken thousands of pictures, talked to hundreds of people and learned so much about their culture. It has been a dream, these past few weeks, and you wouldn’t trade this experience for anything in this world. But part of you misses your home, misses your dad, and misses Niki. You had one of the greatest times of your life, but you are ready to go home again.

“I can’t wait to see you.”, you say after a while, closing the laptop, grabbing your phone and sitting down outside on your little balcony. “God, I’ve missed you so much, you don’t even know.”

“Aw.”, he coos. “Are you getting emotional my sweet tiny little baby.”

“I take my words back.” You can hear his laughter through the phone, smiling at the familiar noise that became your favorite sound over the years. “But all jokes aside, I really do miss you, Niki.”

“I miss you too.”, he says, sighing softly after his words. “But it’s only three more days, right? We did five months before, so we can easily do three more days.”

“Those three days feel longer than the five months though.” You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself, slightly shaking in the cold evening wind. It’s times like this that you long for him the most, that you wish he was by your side. Traveling has shaped you in so many ways, helped you find who you really are and taught you so much about the world, but it also made you realize how much you value having a fixed place to stay, to settle down. It made you realize what you really want.

“What are you thinking about right now?”, Niki asks you, shifting from his position on his hotel bed. You can almost imagine him, messy hair, make up stains still left on his face and his SpongeBob pajamas on.

“You, I’m thinking about you. And us. Our future.”, you answer him honestly, eyes raised up into the deep blue sky.

“This is only the beginning.”, he whispers, voice low and deep with emotions. “This is only the beginning of our forever together, of our hygge together. It’s crazy to think about that sometimes, you know. The fact that we came into each other’s lives at a time where we needed it the most, and the fact that we made it so far. It’s crazy, but so indescribably beautiful. I can’t wait for these three days to pass by Y/n. And I can’t wait for every single day to pass by with you by my side. This is only our beginning, Y/n. And I already know where we can start together.” Niki stops his sentence, taking a small breath, making you anticipate his next words. “In Denmark.”

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twilightarc-gm · 8 months ago

Note

hello :D can you tell me why you like chengxian?

A Non-Comprehensive Guide to Twi's Love of ChengXian

Yes I spent time making this edit. I love them and I'm not an artist so sue me.

Short Answer: I love these two self-sacrificing assholes and their aesthetics and I think they should kiss and get a happy ending for once. If MXTX doesn't want to do it, I'll write it instead! 😤

Long Answer: Click the Read More

"As long as we both live in this world, we'll meet sooner or later." -- Vol1 Chap6

👏 MDZS literally doesn't happen without Yunmeng Shuangjie, it doesn't happen without the huge sense of debt and love and envy and pride and duty that comprises everything about the relationship between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng. They must meet because their stories are so wrapped up in each other that where one ends and the other begins is a blurred line at best.

MXTX put in so much work to separate these two for the happily ever after she wanted and if you think about it too much you start to wonder if the Wei Wuxian we grew to love with this story, that says this kind of line, is ever going to be really happy without Jiang Cheng in his life.

💗It's not incest, but the boys wish it was. I am half-joking about this, but also absolutely serious. The vague labels on their relationship is a very big part of the point!

They are very much the Shixiong/shidi(mei) xianxia/wuxia romance trope. The talented and wonderful shixiong. The shidi(mei) that adores their shixiong but can't be honest about it. Childhood friends to sweethearts. MXTX uses this trope and subverts it by not making it endgame or letting the story just end with the tragedy of the First Siege.

She uses the power of this trope to feed into everything in and around the secret of the Golden Core Transfer. It ends up affecting the entire cultivation world as the greatest token of love, of devotion, of sacrifice, of consequence, of dubious consent, of the crux of the very story itself... which is just incredibly powerful.

And the rest of MDZS flows from that.

He had always thought Jiang Cheng would be the one standing with him, and Lan Wangji against him. He'd never imagined that reality would be the complete opposite.

This is literally errata from vol1 official pg 262 and I swear it wasn't put in the first time because it feeds ChengXian too much. You say that Wei Wuxian thought Jiang Cheng would always be by his side? He couldn't imagine a world where that wasn't true?? That now he's in a reality where it's the opposite??? Omg???? Like this is the sum of the ChengXian tragedy right here because MXTX made a reality where they couldn't be together! 💔😭

Like LOOK!

“When you become the family head, I’ll be your subordinate. We’ll be just like our fathers. Who cares about the Twin Jades of Lan? Our Yunmeng has Twin Heroes! So—just shut up. Who said you’re not worthy of being family head? No one’s allowed to say that, not even you. Say it and you’re asking to get beat.” --Vol3 Chap12

You see for me it's about the strain between love and duty and all the points where those two cross.

My actual favorite romance trope is king/lionheart - lord/devoted - leader/subordinate - patron/agent - master/servant - 知己 (zhiji)

this relationship of knowing is one that is worth dying for

“So when Wei-gongzi returned to seek us out, my jiejie was reluctant to even attempt the procedure, at first. She warned him that writing an essay was one thing, but actually doing it was quite another. She wasn’t even confident she’d have a fifty percent chance of success.

“But Wei-gongzi kept pestering her. He said fifty percent was fine; the chances of success and failure were equal. Even if it didn’t work out and his core was wasted, he wasn’t worried about his future—but that wasn’t the case for Sect Leader Jiang. He was too competitive, too focused on what he stood to gain and lose in this aspect, since cultivation was his life. And if Sect Leader Jiang could only ever be an ordinary, mediocre person, his life would be over.” --Vol4 Chap19

Wei Wuxian was willing to risk his life on a 50% chance if it meant Jiang Cheng would Live. Yes yes Wei Wuxian's patent assholery here about how Jiang Cheng is so competitive etc, classic fooling himself. The point is that Jiang Cheng wouldn't be Jiang Cheng anymore and Wei Wuxian would rather die than experience that. Would rather cut himself apart than fail to protect his shidi.

Speaking of failures...

Perhaps there was this:

“I didn’t get caught by the Wen Clan because I insisted on returning to Lotus Pier to retrieve my parents’ bodies.

“When you went to buy rations in that small town during our escape, a group of Wen cultivators caught up to us.

“I noticed them early and left the spot where I’d been sitting to hide in a corner of the street. I didn’t get caught, but they were patrolling, and they would have surely bumped into you while you were getting us food.

“So I ran out and lured them away.” --Vol5 Chap22

Jiang Cheng never wanted Wei Wuxian to die, let alone die for him. He breaks down at the shrine coming to terms with what he will ultimately think of as his fault. We know this because when he feels at fault he doesn't speak of his good intentions. So, he distracts the Wen-dogs from Wei Wuxian > Gets caught and survives, broken > as far as he knows he's miraculously healed > only to find out that Wei Wuxian was taken by the Wen-dogs anyway 3 months later > Jiang Cheng never speaks of his failures, so will never say how lost his core in the first place > a war and 13 years later he finds out that not only did he fail to protect Wei Wuxian from Wen-dogs, but now also knows unequivocally that Wei Wuxian's descent into heretic cultivation was his fault... again.

As tears streamed down his face, he hissed through gritted teeth, “…Why…why didn’t you tell me?!”

And he begs to know why Wei Wuxian would do this!

“Consider it a repayment of my debt to the Jiangs,” Wei Wuxian added.

Jiang Cheng raised his head and looked at him with bloodshot eyes. “…To my father, my mother, my sister?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

Not him. Wei Wuxian won't admit it's for Jiang Cheng--the shidi he meant to protect as a good shixiong, the master he was meant to support, the heir and symbol of the clan and sect he loved so much he would readily lose a hand to protect.

The way Wei Wuxian tortures Wen Zhuliu by leaving him whole and standing while his charge Wen Chao is torn up bit by bit... The delicious parallels of -- you made me a failure, now see how you like it, watch the one you are meant to protect be torn asunder.

...

Hold on I need a moment...

...

How about some cute stuff?

Wei Wuxian waved him off and then hooked his arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders. -- Vol1 Chap4

He put his arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and dragged him over to the veranda railings to sit down.

[...]

Jiang Cheng was quiet, but he seemed to have calmed down a little. Wei Wuxian put an arm around his shoulders again. --Vol3 Chap12

💗Wei Wuxian is always all over the person/s he likes and loves. Jiang Yanli might have been the first to carry Wei Wuxian but Jiang Cheng's were the first shoulders he chose to hang off of. Jiang Cheng stands so straight because he is used to bearing Wei Wuxian's weight! (Also he's of the gentry, and you can make arguments about a rod in places where the sun doesn't shine, but Wei Wuxian benefits regardless!)

Among all the kicks and shoves and rough housing and sparring, they are just so tactile.

Gif from this post.

… Jiang Cheng, walk slower, you’re gonna throw me off.”

Not only did Jiang Cheng want to throw Wei Wuxian off, but he practically wanted to bash his head into the ground to create a human crater. “So fussy even though I’m carrying you!”

“I didn’t tell you to carry me,” Wei Wuxian reasoned.

Jiang Cheng flew into a rage. “If I didn’t carry you, I think you’d hang out at their ancestral hall all day, rolling around on the floor. I can’t afford this embarrassment! Lan Wangji took fifty more strikes than you, but he walked away on his own, and you’re not embarrassed, pretending to be an invalid? I don’t want to carry you anymore. Get the hell off!”

“No, I’m wounded,” Wei Wuxian said. --Vol1 Chap4

💜 Yes I am bringing back this quote from my Jiang Cheng appreciation post.

Hnng, I am trying to be more concise, but like one of the things I also enjoy in romance is how two imperfect people choose to be together and that choice that they make is the gold and solder that fits the pieces together into art. Sure MDZS didn't want to go there even though that's where it started, but to me it will only ever be the story of Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian.

Honestly even Yi City arc is YMSJ | CX to me.

Song Lan = Jiang Cheng

Xiao Xingchen = Wei Wuxian

Baoshan Sanren is involved

Eyes = Golden Core

Baixue Temple = Yunmeng Jiang

GUILT

RUNNING AWAY

Xue Yang = Yuan Qi (Resentment) Modao/Guidao

CORRUPTION

A-Qing = lwj being obsessed with WWX and fighting his use of guidao like a-Qing is distrustful of XY and XXC being friends with him.

XXC kills SL = WWX kills JC (figuratively, JYL's death destroyed the last of the JC from their childhood and all the trust he had in WWX (you cannot tell me that WWX doesn't feel like he caused JYL's death (he couldn't control the corpse that hurt her, he didn't sense the sword coming for him and she had to protect him)))

XXC's suicide and shattered soul is thus my grounds for headcanon to what actually happened to WWX at the First Siege, just sayin'

...

Anyway that's a bunch of canon stuff how about the realm of fanfiction/art?

Meme Format Reasons Twi is unwell about ChengXian:

From this post (yes that's my same edit)

Art Commissioned (So Far, more on the way and some I can't share yet) for ChengXian:

Happy ChengXian with Wei Wuxian in Purple by @robinade

Supportive ChengXian in pretty clothes! by Sugar_Shoal

Some more points for consideration:

💗 Point 1: They can't be normal about each other, due in large part by the people who raised them being unable to be normal about them either.

💗 Point 2: Their opposing ideologies, duties, and priorities make for the best drama, but in a better narrative, would balance each other.

💗 Point 3: Martial sibling romance ➡ tragedy! They fought together! Thought the future would be them together always! Then everything in the narrative tears it apart and all they're left with are the ashes of their choices and the lies that buried them.

💗 Point 4: Every AU where they end up happy instead!! 😭 I can't wait for @twinclownsoflotuspiers next CX Happy Ending event! Thankfully there is also @omiixcx coming up this APR 21st-27th! 👀 Yes that was a promo and prod.

💜 Point 5: ChengXian Pros = Zongzhu-shidi getting to love and protect his shixiong fully and truly without restraint.

🖤 Point 6: XianCheng Pros = Overprotective shixiong merciless in his affections for his Zongzhu-shidi.

💗 Point 7: Ship them for tropes based on miscommunication, acts of service, there was only one bed, boundary issues, genderfuckery, soul bound by choice, bickering, bantering, finishing each other's sentences, married-divorced-never-were, childhood shenanigans, cutting oneself on the other and denying the blood ever was...

...

I am not even getting into the monster/monster-maker aspect, am I? They are both at the same time!

JC makes WWX a monster by being the recipient of the golden core and believing WWX has control of guidao so encourages its use.

WWX makes JC a monster by lying to him until their relationship is broken irrevocably at the Bloodbath and years after JC is known for hunting demonic cultivators.

If you want to get really dark with it, there's also the cannibalistic aspect. WWX becomes a part of JC with the transfer. JC unwittingly consumes WWX and his fortune. The golden core is in the lower dantian, the belly, behind and below the navel. The symbology..! XianCheng is really good for the more gothic themes of the ship.

Let's be real, the vibes are straight up Wuthering Heights in multiple facets. MXTX recently admitted to that novel was one she read so insert conspiracy theory red string board meme here!

...

I spend a lot of time readdressing the themes introduced with the YMSJ dynamic and are exacerbated by the golden core transfer and the way Wei Wuxian handles and fails to handle that situation. I like how destructive they are about each other. There's a lot of potential there to create something together as well, but they were never given the chance.

Ideally, after the Jiang parents were gone and not influencing them anymore, or if they aged up enough to just stand on their own—and Wei Wuxian has his cultivation intact... Well in that scenario they could have easily stayed the Twin Prides/Heroes of Yunmeng and they would have been so happy being in the home they both loved and making the most of their lives one step at a time and arguing the whole way.

...

That's what fanfiction is for! 💜💗🖤

Hey, you made it to the end! I hope that was entertaining at least there is so much going on with this ship sometimes my brain just goes brrrr about it, y'know? Take care! Happy CX thoughts to you!

#chengxian #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #twi posts

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evieelyzabethh · 2 years ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐝

pairing(s): spike x demon!reader

summary: watching the man you love fawn over someone else is always hard, especially when you know you could love him better.

warnings: angst with a happy ending, later seasons Spike, soft Spike, the reader is a demon so old that no one knows your name and they call you Honey.

Spike was an actor, but William was a poet. This was easy to tell when watching Spike act as if he wasn't in love with Buffy. William would've written her a sonnet, presented her with a rose and some ridiculously expensive necklace. The image of a stone glittering around her neck would've inspired dozens of lines of prose, enough to keep her image alive in those fateful moments when she wasn't there to be looked upon. Spike looked. He watched. He stalked. It was his bad boy persona, the leather jacket hiding the heart that still beat out of his chest. Some things never changed.

This new apocalypse had changed something, though, that and the fact that Buffy had now come back from the dead a second time. You thought it would make her more formidable. A cockroach. Through apocalypse after apocalypse, thick and thin, even death, she was never really gone. Whether she was crawling, suffering, or drowning, she always came back. You liked Buffy, you were friends, or whatever she called the unhumans she hung around who wasn't dating her or one of her friends.

She kept you at an arms width ever since she found you back before her first death. In a bottle or a vase, something old and dusty that tipped over in the library and through smoke you materialized. You didn't remember much; you didn't remember anything. The collection of you took days, like assembling some million and one pieced puzzle. Pieces were lost along the way, Giles bet that somewhere between your brain being assembled and your bones hardening that your memory slipped through the cracks of the old hardwood flooring and was lost to the Hell Mouth beneath. He also said that if the memory was so heavy it sank, it wasn't worth remembering anyways.

This being said, it made since that she wasn't immediately open to letting you in and you were fine with that. You didn't know how to exist otherwise. Feelings were also lost on you, along with your name, and breathing, and speaking. You read a lot, after being placed in Giles' care, you only ever were in the school library or his personal library in his apartment, and being born again, you now had a broken vocabulary of unnatural and old English.

It was Willow who named you Honey. She told you hot tea helped with the healing vocal cords and that honey would hopefully act as a sticky cement so they would stay together. Lots of honey was what you consumed until your presence became synonymous with honey and then that became your name. Remembering to breath came soon after, it made your human company that much more relaxed around you. That and the fact that because you were so broken, you weren't deemed a threat.

Feelings came crashing after the fact.

Angelus' return took a toll on Buffy and Spikes appearance began your ascension. You had read classics before; Giles didn't exactly keep copies of Dr. Seuss or even Baum. It was all Bronte, Shelly, or Austen. Writers who taught you that humans love and to love is human and you didn't understand at all not until

"And who might you be, love?"

What are you wasn't the question and he called you "love". Could you be called love, was that something you could be. With how much honey you consumed, you probably were part honey, but even outside of that, when the humans introduce themselves, they say "I am..." so you said "I am Honey" to fit in.

But he called you Love.

You didn't doubt Willow, but you wondered if being Honey was a mistake, if being love was an option. To be love would mean to have love and how did one do that.

"I am Honey." you replied. 3 words that didn't even scratch the surface of what you wanted to say. Maybe speech was more lost on you than you thought.

A lot of time had passed since then. A few apocalypses, a more modern and appropriate speech pattern, plenty of feelings and more importantly, the knowledge that feelings couldn't be shared.

Being so far removed from everyone else made it easy to notice things that they didn't. You noticed her push him away. You had heard him confess. You had become friends after a while, and there were many moments when you would be in his crypt talking to him in between bottles of wine and blood, pigs' blood after he became aware of his feelings. He told you about her, he raved about her bravery, he retold her jokes. The affect she had on him was palpable, impossible to ignore. His lips spoke of Buffy, he cried tears that reflected Buffy, even when he looked at you, he was looking for pieces of Buffy. That was the only explanation for why he would look at you for so long. You weren't a genius, you weren't even a poet, but you knew better than to delude yourself. And yet

He looked at you.

He watched you. He saw you. He perceived you; and it was so beautiful.

He also told you of Dru. She would have moments of clarity when she would revert to the ghost of who she was before Angelus drove her insane. Moments when she would look at the stars, not because she was seeing things, but because she was looking at them. Like the haze of one thousand years had cleared and she was looking at the stars, not shiny shards of glass wedged in a rocky ceiling. She stopped echoing wishes, and she made them. He even told you her favorite wish. She wanted a pretty dress to go to a pretty ball. It was so normal and human. She wanted to exist and be a girl in her own time again, like it used to be. Maybe she also wanted to be human.

Sometimes, if you found the strength in you to stomach it, you liked to think he looked at you like how she used to look at the stars. Like Buffy was his pipe dream and you were what he really wanted.

It wasn't a stretch of the imagination. She was a slayer, and he was a vampire. She is a pipe dream. She was the false stars of shattered glass, she was dangerous to him, she would hurt him. She has hurt him.

Every time he told her he loved her, she told him no. A step worse than rejection, she denied he even could love her. Demons weren't capable of love; he was experiencing obsession. He wanted to own her, to take her, ravish her and leave her a husk of who she used to be then toss her when the infatuation faded. He didn't need to, she already was. Death did that to her, she didn't need Spike to finish the job. And obsession. If what Spike felt towards her was obsession, then what the hell was she feeling.

This all lead to today. An old show playing on the boxy television, sitting on a newly stolen couch, occasionally passing a bowl of popcorn between the two of you. The show was a cheesy vampire comedy where the main character had finally cornered the terrifying "Dracula" and staked him with a cartoonishly large stake. "Blood squirted everywhere, coating the main character with what was probably corn syrup, chocolate syrup, and red food dye.

"That is totally unrealistic. Us vampires don't bleed, and he would've seen that stake from a mile away." he said while tossing a handful of popcorn at the screen.

"I doubt they had a way to turn him to dust back in like the 40's." he scoffed at your nonchalance.

"This is ridiculous. Us vampires need better representation on the telly, they're makin' us look like bumbling idiots." you can' help but laugh at his dramatics. In his rage, his hair had fallen out of place. It wasn't gelled like it usually was, a mistake he'll probably rectify in a few hours when the sun goes down.

"I didn't know you took such pride in being a vampire." He dramatically jumps to face you, a disgusted look on his face.

"Of bloody course I do. Why on Earth would I want to be human."

"Maybe Buffy would like you if you were human." For anyone else it would've been a low blow, but he lets you slide. That and the fact that beneath the mocking tone you took, you didn't laugh at it all that much.

"Would you want to be human, love?" There it is again. You should be used to it by now, but you still every time you hear it from him. Maybe because when it comes from him you want it. You had been on dates with other guys, some of whom confessed to you. The Scoobies told you they loved you multiple times before, even better, they all meant it and the feeling is mutual. Why is it still so much different with him.

"I don't know, I think it could be nice. I think life would be easier." He smiled.

"Why? You're not a vampire, you can frolic in the sun as much as you'd like." you shake your head.

"That's not it." What could it be? Spike wasn't often confused, as a matter of fact he was extremely self-assured, but he couldn't figure out what you were missing out on. He'd much rather be in you position than to remember every sin he's ever committed. You got the immortality and the powers with none of the guilt that comes with it.

"If I was human, I wouldn't be nearly as confused. I'd know more, I guess."

"But what if you never lost your memory? Knowing things wouldn't be an issue." If only knowing your name was the knowledge you were seeking.

"Knowing things wouldn't be an issue but there are some uniquely human things I can't experience because I'm not a human."

"Like what?" Being human at one point was interesting, it was so ingrained in Spike he couldn't imagine what it would be like for feelings to not be second nature. He never needed to understand them, feeling them was more than enough.

"I don't know because I'm not human. I don't know what I'm missing, but I'm missing something." Quit beating around the bush.

"What if you didn't need to be human and it just fell out?"

"What is so bad about being human that it fell out."

"Trust me, as a former human myself, there is plenty to hate about being human. They're puny and pathetic." He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the couch along then struck a match against a loose plank of wood. Bringing it to his lips, he inhaled the smoke and blew it away from your face, but the breeze from an open (broken) window whisked it towards your face anyway.

"But is that because you were human, or because you are you?" His gaze hardened at how quick the answer came.

"You think I was pathetic?" The fallen embers came onto his pants, but he paid them no mind.

"You think you used to be pathetic." Though this was true, a part of him felt offended. Even stranger, he didn't know which part.

"Because I was. I was human and emotional and a bloody mess, because I was human. Demons don't feel anything which is far better than feeling and getting hurt."

"But you aren't demon enough to know what it means to feel nothing!" You weren't a demon to him, though. It would've been easy for him to forget that you weren't one of those pesky humans had it not been for your distinctly not human scent. It was like whisky, rich and old and expensive. Too expensive to break open and drink because it grew more valuable with time. He'd do anything for you not to go to waste.

"And if you want to feel so badly, you can't possibly be that much of a demon!" To waste you would for you to be human. They're too fragile. They die. Spike longed to be a demon because at his core, he was a coward. He didn't want to die. Judging by how much you yearned to be human, you feared loneliness more.

"Why do you love Buffy so much." Ah, the point.

Spike was many things. A bastard, one of those British nancy boys, a coward, a freak. A thing he prided himself the most on was his intellect. He was insightful, he could be emotionally intelligent when he wanted to be. This was the important part.

A part of him knew his best friend loved him. A part he profusely ignored because he was only emotionally intelligent when he wanted to be. He could admit that he was intellectual and intelligent and at times wise, he believed those to be self-evident truths, cornerstones of his Spikeism. He's the brooding, yet insightful, bad boy with a heart of gold who does the right thing when it conveniences him. He's an actor and this was the character he's had centuries to build, and he'd be damned it cracked because then he'd be proving that he was never anything more than William "The Bloody Bad Poet".

Maybe self-hatred was the root of it. The inescapable need- no instinct, to kick himself in the ass at any possible opportunity, was why he ignored you. It had to be some sick penchant for pain, or the belief that he wasn't deserving of good things, because if you were nothing else, you were good to him which meant you deserved better than him.

But altruism doesn't fit into the paradigm of Spike. Altruism is William's thing which made this so much more horrifying. William loved you. Spike loving you meant nothing because he didn't really mean it. The stage kisses and the dramatized sex scenes were suffocatingly filled with false passion, more passion than humanly possible. Spike loved hard, William loved deeply, and both loved you. It couldn't be undone, but it could be forgotten.

"I don't know." Those 3 words didn't even begin to scratch the surface of why he "loved" her.

"But all I know of love comes from you, I learned it from you, and you don't know why you love her?" You wanted to cry, and you hated it. If you could take it back, you would. You wished you had shut your mouth and watched the stupid show that was still playing as you had this argument.

"Love isn't something you explain." He put distance between the two of you, standing up and walking away from the couch in search for a bottle of alcohol. He wasn't planning on you following him, following closer than the tail of his leather duster.

You threw the alcohol before his hand even grazed it, smashing it against the concrete walls of his crypt. Positioning yourself between himself and the makeshift table that used to be a grave, you stood your ground. Blinking back tears because the second water hit that cement you were done for.

"Then show me. That's how I learned before." He clenched then unclenched his jaw. Buffy was all over him, but you were inside of him. The air he breathed, the blood in his veins, the force making his heart beat was you and it always had been. "Show me."

He was scared.

"What if you don't understand." He was stalling. For too long he hadn't been allowed to have anything. Dru was never his because Angelus had ingrained his way into her very being. Buffy was never realistic, and even if she was, she was human. One day she'd die, and he'd move on long before that date anyways. You were so attainable, and you were willing to be his. What if he fucked up. He has, right in front of him, sharing breaths mere inches from each other, everything he had ever wanted, and he didn't even have to fight for it. Handed to him on a silver platter was the key to the universe, but he could find a way to fuck it up. He always did.

"You don't know that." He held your head in his hands, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His world in the palm of his hands. What if he dropped it.

"You love me?"

"I didn't even know what love was before I met you." You whispered it and he shattered. He kissed you, as if he could pull the sound from your lips so that your confession him that could replay forever in his mind. Like he was sealing some sort of promise so you couldn't take it back.

"I love you." He said in between kisses. "I love you so much it hurts." He kissed you on the forehead." I love you so much it makes me feel alive again." He kissed you on your right cheek, "Longed for you like the sun and cherished you like the stars, I love you.", then on the left.

He looked you in the eyes before kissing you again. As if he wouldn't be there to say it again, as if you could somehow forget it, he said it once more.

"I love you."

#spike btvs #spike btvs x reader #buffy the vampire slayer fanfic #spike x reader #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #btvs imagine #btvs x reader #spike btvs imagine #spike btvs fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction

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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year ago

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i DEFINITELY want more Frat Boy Sukuna!!! 😍😍😍😍

Oh man, you're twisting my arm so hard here nonnie, what ever will I do?

I guess I'm just going to have to post some headcanons and frame work I have for the up coming part 2 (Of which you can get on the tag list for it: here!) Oh! And if you want a refresher, you can find Seven Minuets in Heaven Here!

Now Presenting...

Some supplemental reading if you will ;)

Ok, lets start with just some basic information on our boy

Hes in the Alpha Beta Omega frat, or the ABO frat. The entire Frat is very quick to point out they’ve been around longer than ABO when you bring it up, minus Ryomen.

He just tells you he’s an Alpha and asks if you’re trying to be his Omega. It normally gets whatever reaction he wants

He’s majoring in business against his will (Remember this: It will come up) with a minor in he’s really about: History

If taking over his fathers very lucrative business (Again: This will come back up later) fails, he wants to be a history teacher.

He often bonds with Nanami over hating their shared major and being annoyed with Gojo and Geto making out in the most inconvenient places.

He sells drugs on the side to supplement his income, but nothing harder than weed because “Weeds not even a drug when you think about it.”

Is known for being the biggest manslut in the manslut frat. But hey, at least he gets tested regularly.

Ok, so now I want to start with a little bit of his background because it informs a lot about how I characterize him.

He’s Yuji’s older brother by about 4 years. Both of them look almost exactly like their father. The man really said Ctrl C, Ctrl V, Ctrl V.

Their father left when they were 7 and 3 respectively. Yuji doesn’t remember, but Ryomen very clearly remembers how horrible their father was to their mother. To him, it was a relief when that asshole finally abandoned the family for good.

The family moved in with their Grandpa, who was one of the very old school “I will only tell my kids I love them on my death bed” types. He also died when the boys were only 13 and 9.

Meaning our boy never really had a good role model for how to perform masculinity, and now that he’s an adult he finds himself pretending to be the type of man media told him he was supposed to be. Somewhere between Tyler Durden and Joey Tribbiani. He doesn’t think he’s very good at this performance.

The moment he turned 16, he started getting piercings to try and look less like his dad. The moment he turned 18 he got his tattoos to really separate himself from his father. Yuji thinks it’s insane, but Ryomen thinks it’s worth it to be able to look in the mirror without wanting to punch it.

His father reached out to him his senior year of high school. He offered to pay for 100% of Sukuna’s college tuition, as long as he majored in business and took over the “family” company once he graduated.

Yea, turns out dear old dads new wife couldn’t conceive, and his smoking had finally caught up with him in the form of lung cancer. Faced with an inevitable death, he was desperate for an heir.

Ryomen may have despised his father with everything in his being, but he realized how stupid it would be to throw away not only a free education, but also a guaranteed career. So he agreed.

OKAY now that that’s outta the way, let’s get into how he is in a relationship 😈

You are his first real relationship. He’s had “relationships” that lasted officially about 2 weeks at the longest. He’s had a plethora of situationships where he’d make promises he had no intention to keep. But as far as actually, serious, relationships you’re number one.

And genuinely this new emotion kinda scares the shit out of him. The first time he got love pangs he thought he was having a panic attack, the first time you brushed him off he felt like he shattered. this shit sucks yo, no wonder the Greeks thought it was a mental illness.

He has no idea how to properly love someone, he’s winging this shit: Doing everything entirely based on vibes

In his past “relationships” the moment conflict arose, he would leave. He doesn’t want to do that to you though, so head it is.

I’m not joking, the moment you have an issue he’s taking you to bed to try and distract you. And he’s always shocked when you still want to, ya know, communicate about issues you’re having after the fact. And he’s always even more shocked when you don’t just leave the moment conflict arises.

Did I mention he has no real concept of how healthy relationships work?

He’s trying though. He’s trying harder to make this work than he’s trying to keep his grades up.

Often catches himself flirting with other girls without even realizing it, it’s just second nature to him. He’ll always disengage the moment he realizes

Oh he’s jealous. Oh he’s so jealous. He sees you just talking to another guy and he’s spiraling in his head. He’s immediately getting involved and planting hickies on your neck right in front of whoever you’re talking to, because you’re his god damn it.

As such he loves to buy you jewelry. His dad’s got fuck you money, and he plans to spend it all on you. His current favorite thing to see you wear it a dainty, golden chain, with a ruby encrustedfrat b R hanging from it. It looked gorgeous on you, and marked you as undeniably his.

Suguru has 1000% had to talk him out of getting a tattoo of your name, this man is down so unbelievably bad. He’s never really been in love before, and now that he’s feeling it he’s overwhelmed by it.

This man really thought he was above getting pussy drunk until he hooked up with you. Now he realizes he’s is Not. At. All immune to it, and is actually quite prone to it!

Ultimately, his goal is to marry you after graduation, even though his fraternity brothers are highly against it. Not because they don’t like you, quite the contrary, they love you! But they all know that marrying your first love probably isn’t the move, and that the two of you have a lot of problems to work through. They want him to at least wait a few years before popping the question.

Still, every once in awhile he catches himself looking at rings and day dreaming about the future.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk frat boy au #fratboy!sukuna #frat boy sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #frat boy! Sukuna x reader

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strayrumia · 7 months ago

Text

Unfamiliarity (oneshot)

felix x fem!reader

Synopsis: After her break-up from her long-term relationship, [Y/n] is left wondering if she was deserving of love and gentleness. Fortunately for her, she has a best friend who's been supporting her since the beginning. Not only that, but he's also more than happy to show her she deserves the love she longed for. -or- [Y/n] is left touch-deprived and doubting that she's deserving of anything wholesome after having left a relationship that left her with nothing but heartbreak, trauma, and neglect. Her best friend proves her wrong.

Genre(s): fluffy ending, implied best friends to lovers (can be taken platonically), angst Other tags: non!idol au, (wholesome) physical touch Content/Trigger Warning(s): mentions of SA (s*xual ab*se) and emotional ab*se from past relationship, very heavy mentions of insecurity and feeling worth is based off s*x, mentions of food

[A/N]: This is more of a ventfic and something that I wanted to just let out. It might not be the best fic I've written as it has a VERY open ending/lacks a proper ending. I also wrote this late at night, very head-empty. I hope if you do read it, you'll feel heard or a reminder that you deserve the love you give to others! <3

--------

Weeks.

Has it been weeks?

No, it's actually been a few months since the day you gained the confidence and willpower to walk out on your past and very toxic relationship. You've kept track. After all, you thought your ex would be hurting too, until you've discovered from mutual friends that he had already moved on.

That's right. At first, it was a mention from a mutual that they've heard him mention on his own socials that he was going to a concert - a concert of a group you were very confident he didn't know nor listen to very much. Then the day came when it was the supposed concert. You saw on another mutual friend's Instagram that he was seeing the group with the same girl he told you not to worry about countless times prior. The same girl who he would not hesitate to make time when she said the word, yet when you asked him for his time, he would throw a fit. Then goes the most recent news - that he was supposedly trying to get on his coworker.

This boy was the same one who told you, when you sobbed to him while trying to stand your ground, that he didn't agree to this relationship ending and he wanted to continue fighting for you two. The same one that told you that he'd rather you stay with him and heal than walk away. The same one who told you, "will we ever be together again in the future?"

It hurt.

It hurt knowing that this person you gave five long, hard years for threw you away so easily. You fought for him despite your friends and family refusing to support your relationship, despite the fact that they all mentioned how he had red flags yet your young, naive self gave him the benefit of the doubt. You fought for him, yet you got taken advantage of in more ways than you want to remember while he felt little to no remorse for his actions as his words never aligned.

It hurt knowing that while you gave a lot of love to him, you're left wondering if you're even enough for another person, if there will ever be someone in your life to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. While you were still healing, your ex, who you walked away still full of love, was ready to find the next person to fuck around with.

Though many of your friends suggested you to hop on the dating apps and just fuck your feelings away to those who had no strings attached, you knew you couldn't do that. You love with your whole heart. Sure you can sleep with others and enjoy the sex life with potential partners who shared your kinky fantasies, but how can you? Your relationship was full of one-sided lust that you felt like you were only good for sex.

You were healing a lot faster now that months had gone by since your breakup, but it didn't stop the thoughts of insecurity that would constantly come up every now and then. You've gone on many hangouts with friends who happened to be dating and seen just how wonderfully they treat each other and it makes you wonder... 'Will I ever get that kind of treatment?'

After your breakup, you made a vow to yourself that you would set aside as much time as you can to spend with your friends and family, the very people who supported you individually from the start and continued to even after that. Through each hangout, your best friend, Felix, was there every step of the way.

He was always there since the beginning. He was there when he warned you about your ex before you got into that relationship. He was there during your entire relationship, albeit being at a bit of a distance to respect your space and privacy with your partner. Lastly, he's there for you right now.

You had spent the whole day with him, letting the day be a normal hangout - one that allowed you two to enjoy board games with other friends before they had to go home, leaving you alone in your small apartment with Felix.

After the mutual friends had left, Felix had noticed your mood shift slightly towards the end of the game night and decided to bake you some chocolate chip cookies as a treat to cheer you up. He knew they were your favorite sweet treats after all. While he prepped the ingredients and put up a YouTube video in the background, you scrolled through your Instagram feed lazily, only to have the worst timing and notice the same girl you were warned to not worry about post about your ex yet again. Yes you were doing better in this healing process but the pain was still ever so present.

You let out an exasperated sigh as your head dropped into your folded arms against the counter, causing Felix to look up from the video and pause. "Are you alright?"

You only responded with an unhappy, muffled groan in your arms. Felix raised an eyebrow at you as his gaze shifted towards the phone in your hand. Your screen stayed stagnant on the post with your friend and your ex.

"You know, you could always remove this girl from your socials. Why don't you? It's not like you still talk to her." Felix suggested, taking your phone out of your hands and analyzing the post.

"She hasn't done anything directly to make me have a reason to cut her off... it wouldn't be right." You retorted. That thought often crossed your mind without him even mentioning it if you were being honest. It would lift a mental load on you to remove the last person who wanted to associate with your ex from your social media, but you still felt it was wrong to remove someone who never hurt you, at least with intention.

Felix scoffed. "Does it matter? She doesn't know him well enough to know what he did to you, or to anticipate what he might do to her. If it helps you in the long run, you might as well do it."

You ignored his reply, your thoughts were going elsewhere anyway. You stared into nothingness as the post's image burned into your brain, how happy the girl was to be beside the abuser. Your thoughts were going all over the place if you were being honest.

'Why do you want to associate with him? He's a horrible person! Ugh, but you don't know...'

'You don't even know how terrible he is, but I guess sometimes people only learn the hard way...'

'He literally told me not to worry about her and how he only saw her as a little sister figure but why was his hand so dangerously low in that photo...'

'Just how many lies did he feed me to keep me from trusting my gut feelings...'

'She is a pretty girl with a gorgeous figure... it's no wonder he kept his eyes on her.'

'She was the one worth driving an hour and more for without hesitation. She was the one he was willing to treat out to restaurants and gift flowers for. I was the inconvenience after all...'

Your thoughts were becoming sadder and darker as they went through each and every lie he told you. Tears began to well in your eyes until you suddenly felt your hand getting tugged, dragging you out of your thoughts and into the situation at hand. Felix started leading you towards your couch and maneuvered you into sitting onto his lap.

"Wh- Felix, what are you doing? I-I'm heavy!" You started to get embarrassed and immediately tried to lift yourself from his lap, only for him to keep you there with his arms. He kept you in a gentle yet firm embrace that prevented you from trying to escape.

"You're not even heavy, stop it." You stopped squirming and just continued to avoid his gaze. You knew if he saw the tears threatening to fall from your eyes you would hear it from him, but he surprisingly said nothing as he kept you in his arms.

He reached over to the side and grabbed a blanket nearby, drooping over his back before he took each end to make his way to wrap you in. He gently cradled your head into his neck, his head sitting softly atop yours. His other arm kept you in an unescapable hold while rubbing small circles on your back. Although you wanted to escape out of embarrassment, you didn't retaliate to his small, gentle gestures. You felt your muddy thoughts begin to clear out as Felix continued to cradle you in his arms.

"Felix... what are you doing?" You repeated with more naivety and less aggression.

"What does it look like, [Y/n]?"

Your face began to flush, but you tried your best to pay it no mind. "You don't need to do this to me, okay? I don't... I don't deserve it."

"Why do you think you don't deserve it?"

The post burned into your mind again. "Because... there are better people out there who deserve it more than I do." Like her. I'm not someone you should be doing these kinds of things to. I don't deserve it.

"Hmm... maybe you're right, but I know you deserve to feel secure and have affection too." Felix replied, adjusting slightly to turn your head to face his direction as he started brushing his fingers through your hair, pushing your loose strands away from your face to the best of his ability in your position. The gesture small yet soothing, an unfamiliar feeling that you definitely leaned into and enjoyed every minute of.

"I can't imagine what he put you through but what I can tell you is that you too are deserving of more than just being treated as an object. You're not an object, you're a human, okay? So don't ever treat yourself as anything less when you deserve more."

You felt the tears in your eyes rebuild from the ever growing happiness in your heart hearing his words, but you fought them from overflowing. You shook your head, wanting to retort more but as you opened your mouth, the words never left your throat. It felt that if you tried to counter Felix again, the tears would win over and you wouldn't be able to stop. 'I really don't...'

"[Y/n]," he softly pressed his lips against the crown of your head. "You deserve to feel loved too. You deserve to experience the joys of getting a wonderful surprise from your support system. You deserve to be invited and brought to cute and romantic dates with lots of effort. You deserve something even as simple as handholding!"

It's as if he felt your tears fall because he pulled you away from him to use his free hand to gently wipe away the tears from your eyes, not caring that they lightly stained his sleeve and shirt. He continued to brush your loose hairs away from your facial features as he made sure you kept your eyes on him. "You are loved and you will experience that love too. If you allow me, I will show you exactly how you should be treated - although, it might just be the same as what we already do."

"But... what would be the difference between the things we do now compared to the things we will do after this point?"

"Well, I guess I won't have to hold back how I feel about you. That would probably be the only difference." He said with a small chuckle. "But you don't have to worry about anything, I don't expect you to feel anything right away nor do I want you to feel rushed into deciding anything with me. I just want you to experience the love, respect, and happiness you're supposed to have."

You thought about it with a smile. Your current experience with Felix as of recently has been filled with nothing but joy and laughter. There would be times where you would vent about your healing thoughts and he would generously offer an ear and shoulder. Most of the time, however, it was genuine laughs and happiness that triggered your habit of hiccupping when you laughed too hard. Those memories you've made with him recently just made you enjoy his presence more and more. It was no lie that he made sure he always thought of your picky habits whenever others wanted to go to a restaurant, how he made your heart flutter with every smile he shone at you and every gentlemanly gesture he did in consideration of you.

It wasn't going to be an easy lesson to relearn but you knew exactly what he was trying to teach you. You don't know how to accept such kind and affectionate gestures because you were so used to bland, lustful touches. You didn't think you deserved to be treated so delicately when all you've known is how to be used and thrown to the side when the other was no longer satisfied.

It was hard, but you can feel your healing process become much easier and smoother with Felix by your side. After all, he knew you best, he witnessed you through your highs and lows to the point where he learned what ticked you off and what brought you the highest joy. He's someone who observed and applied what he learned to make sure you would be treated with the respect you deserved.

It won't be quick and it won't be easy, but one thing you know for sure is that you felt the most safe and loved with him than anyone you can ever imagine.

-End-

#tw abuse mention #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #felix x reader #felix scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids x reader

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imagobin · 6 months ago

Note

Head canons for Zoldyck siblings reactions to sibling reader hinting they will leave the estate one day and then actually leaving and sibling reader was close to them so 🦄🦄

Omg the drama that could come from this fhgkd thank you for your request! Sorry it took a bit :'3 But I really love this, hope you enjoy what I came up with!

🔯Zoldyck Siblings react to you leaving HCs🔯

📍Illumi📍

Illumi's reaction would definitely be the strongest, he loves all his siblings to quite the obsessive level, so if he ever caught you hinting at the mere possibility of leaving he would not like that at all.

Not only because you're a very capable assassin, and losing such a powerful family member wouldn't be good for business, but because he worries of what you'll even do in the outside world. "Why would you want to leave? You have everything you can wish for here... we all care about you, while out there people will just use and betray you. Trust your big brother, it's better if you stay with us."

You do trust him, he always has plenty of good advice to give, but you also want to do your own thing, discover yourself, so you don't let him convince you.

Illumi would start keeping closer attention to you, monitoring your movements so he can catch you if you ever try to leave, and persuade you to change your mind.

But of course, he can't be there constantly to ensure you don't run away from the family, he's got work to do.

You leave while he's on one of his longer missions, and once he comes back and learns you've ran away he is really disappointed, though of course he doesn't show it.

He wonders if he'd be able to bring you back, or if you'll ever come home on your own. He tries calling you over and over, but naturally you don't pick up, you know how Illumi is, you can't risk him finding out where you are, or he'll somehow get there in record time and take you back home.

Predictably, Illumi wants to track you down and get you back, at any cost, you can't just run away like that, it's incredibly immature and will only serve to worry everyone.

---

🎮Milluki🎮

You could be more direct at hinting you wanted to leave when it comes to Milluki. He might be somewhat of a mama's boy, but he knows when to keep his thoughts to himself. He's not really a fan of family drama.

When you asked him if he ever had a desire to explore the outside world and try new things, he'd looked at you as if you were some sort of alien. "Nah, I'm good staying here. I guess if there could be some stuff worth checking out, but I can get everything I'm interested in right here, so I don't really care about it... do you?"

You softly admitted you did wonder what was out there, he shrugged and the topic was swiftly put to the side for something you both cared about, like anime or games.

The day you do decide to run away though, Milluki will finally understand the sense of that question. He can't help but wonder if you would've let him in on your plans if he'd answered in some other way.

He wouldn't have tried to stop you, he doesn't really care about keeping his siblings from doing things, unless he's ordered to by his mom or dad.

He does think about you sometimes, and texts you occasionally, though you don't always reply. He's happy whenever you do, though you never talk of your whereabouts.

Milluki is okay with that, and makes sure nobody finds out you two are still occasionally in touch, which honestly isn't too difficult since the others rarely come into his room anyway.

He COULD track you down in no time, but won't do so unless someone asks him to, and so far, nobody has, since Illumi prefers to do things his way.

---

🪀Killua🪀

You were the one who accidentally got Killua interested in seeing more of what the world had to offer. You didn't mean to, but the way his blue eyes would light up every time you told him about cool places and fun things normal people did made it impossible for you to stop talking about it.

He ended up running away even before you did, and that only motivated you even more to do the same. Hearing about how much fun he was having while hanging around with Gon... made you wish for friends too.

When you finally left the estate yourself, and called Killua to let him know, he was really excited, wondering if you'd run into each other at some point. "Hah! Took you long enough! And to think that you've wanted to get out for longer than I have... I'm glad about it though, I wonder if you'll find some friends too, but they certainly won't be as cool as Gon!"

You do eventually meet up with him, and he's thrilled to see you again, though he's a bit nervous about introducing you to Gon, fearing he might get along better with you.

It all goes sort of well in the end... because you and Gon talked lots about Killua and your respective experiences with him. It made the white haired boy really embarrassed, but he was also glad that Gon didn't have the time to know you better.

You catch up with Killua as well, ask him what he's been up to and such, then he asks you if you've heard from the rest of the family as well, and you shake your head. You haven't talked to anyone else... aside from your occasional exchanges with Milluki.

After a day spent together, you part ways once more; the boys have their own goals and you got yours after all. But you promise each other to definitely keep in touch and to meet up some other time.

---

🧸Alluka🧸

Alluka was forbidden from setting foot in the outside world due to her dangerous powers. She was the one person you would've absolutely loved to tell everything about it to.

Unfortunately, since she was constantly kept under surveillance you couldn't do that. You tried once, and your mother immediately scolded you, saying Alluka couldn't get those sorts of ideas in her mind.

When you ran away, you didn't have time to say goodbye to Alluka, and due to her isolation, nobody even bothered to tell her you'd gone off on your own. She just wondered why you'd stopped coming all of a sudden.

She only learns of you escapade once you meet up with Killua the second time, and see her there with him. She is overjoyed to see you again. "Y-y/n!! I'm so happy to see you again! I was so worried something had happened to you... nobody would tell me where you were... you've been well, right?!"

Alluka hugs you tightly and you apologize for disappearing so abruptly. You assure her you've been well, and that you're very happy to see her with Killua... outside of that cursed room at last.

You spend a calm day together with her and Killua, where she tells you all about the fun places he's been taking her to. You can't help but be proud of Killua for what he's doing, and you're also excited for what the future has in store for Alluka.

Predictably, once it's time for goodbyes again, Alluka begs you to stay with them instead, not wanting to lose you another time. She gets a little pouty about it, until Killua explains to her she can't choose what you do with your life.

She accepts those conditions and asks you to at least call, because she does want to hear lots from you from now on.

---

🪭Kalluto🪭

Kalluto never stayed away from his mother for long, so, much like with Illumi, you'd have to be careful about what you talked with him, knowing that if you said anything weird, he was definitely going to tell Kikyo.

He did catch you looking at a few books that could've given you away, but you always managed to change topics, and with Kalluto being the youngest, he didn't really feel like he had the right to press you for information.

Besides, he had no reason to doubt your loyalty to the family given how close to everyone you were, you even took time out of your day to spend time with him! Something his other siblings didn't really do that often.

That's why when you did leave, it hit him the hardest. While Killua's departure had been tough to handle, given how he'd always wanted to be noticed by him, your departure felt like he'd lost the one sibling who truly saw him. Things felt much lonelier for him without you around, and he couldn't even call you, because he didn't have a phone at the time.

Kalluto eventually joins the Phantom Troupe in hopes of getting strong enough to take both you and Killua back to the family. What he wasn't expecting, however, was meeting you during that process.

You're super happy to see him out and about, but he didn't leave the estate for the same reasons as you did. "Why... did you run away? Were you not happy with us? You made mother really upset... you made me upset... you made me feel lonely."

Hearing Kalluto state how he felt when you left does make you feel a bit guilty. You assure him you still love your family, but you realized you'd never be able to do your own thing if you never left the estate.

He struggles to understand your perspective, and still hopes you'll go back home one day, but he doesn't want to argue with you, so he accepts it. He demands for your phone number, so you two can still keep in touch.

---

#hxh #hunter x hunter #zoldyck #zoldyck headcanons #zoldyck siblings #illumi zoldyck #milluki zoldyck #killua zoldyck #alluka zoldyck #kalluto zoldyck #killua #illumi #milluki #kalluto #alluka #hxh headcanons #zoldyck family #the zoldyck family

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genyawritesshizz · 6 months ago

Text

A Hum of Time. Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Part 5

Summary: An innocent relationship between two workaholics could not possibly be that eventful. Just two individuals finding comfort within each other's company and the occasional cup of coffee. What happens when a secret that could ruin both of their careers brings the whole thing crashing down? In a heart wrenching decision, you must do what is best for all three of you and brave the future alone. Will you ever tell the truth? You might not have a choice.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

8081-word count

It's happier I promise :)

It has been six years since the incident. Any blog or post related to you had long ago been swept away into the ever-changing sea of media, buried far below, never to resurface. The name Siren was long forgotten.

Following being discharged after over two months of recovery you had changed your names and moved to the opposing coast. The opportunity for another fresh start alighted new found hope for the future. The saved money from your time as a hero and life insurance payout David had carefully pulled allowed the two of you the luxury of ease and into a mundane title of stay at home mom.

Despite everything that happened, every sacrifice made, and every sleepless night it was all well worth their price at being present to watch your boy grow. You loved him more than you had ever thought possible. A mother’s love is a force of nature, boundless and unconditional.

Even if he could be a pain at times.

Admittedly handling a four-year-old who’s temper tantrums could burst your eardrums had been one of your toughest battles. Thankful that he had inherited something of yours but also woeful for both yourself and the neighbors; He had manifested your vocal quirk.

After many replaced windows, pitiable apologize, and endless pep talks he had finally learned to somewhat control it. With his quirk and gaining of maturity came questions. He could faintly remember you as a hero all those years ago, fortunately however not much. Just that you wore an ‘awesome’ costume and got hurt.

You never told him the truth. Instead opting to lie whenever his bubbling curiosity peaked. Stating that back in the day you were simply a sidekick to some one off low tier hero. Nothing special. Just scratching the surface of heroism, that you had thrown in the towel after getting hurt all those years ago.

Not a complete lie.

Yet far from the whole truth.

This still fascinated him.

Late at night as you tucked the restless child to bed, he would beg for stories, pictures, anything from back then. Occasionally after seemingly endless hours of impetration you’d buckle to his demands, telling a watered down tale of the past. Even as you regaled the simplest of petty robberies, he looked to you like you had hung the stars in the night sky, as if you were the reason that rain fell. Big blue fascinated eyes with a wide smile filled with astonishment chanted your praises in complete and utter admiration.

“Momma is the coolest!” “Momma is the best hero!” “Momma is my hero!”

‘Momma is my hero.’

Oh, how your heart melted at his words. The giddy childlike wonder pushed any nightmarish trauma to the back recesses of your mind. Though, that did not mean it disappeared.

Haunting memories of the past always found a way to resurface.

As he grew older, near the age of six, he discovered how to use the home computer. Spending hours watching videos online of other heroes, it was only a matter of time until he inevitably stumbled upon a video of All Might. Despite your parental controls blocking the tag. Where there's a will there's a way, this kid was stubborn. Since the discovery he could not stop watching, completely enamored. The daunting words “I am here” blaring from the computer's speakers echoed with your son's delightful laughter bounced off the walls of your shared home.

Over and over.

Taunting.

Mocking.

It stung the deepest depths of your faulty heart to hear his voice day in and day out.

To watch your son fall in love with a man who too used to hold your heart…

Yet you did not have the heart nor the courage to demand he turn it off.

A particular moment replayed in your mind.

You had just come home from a quick trip to the market. Nearing the age of elven you entrusted him to stay home alone for short periods of time especially when, if provoked, he could scream loud enough for anyone clear across the city to hear. Yet when he did not meet you at the door or answer your call your stomach dropped. As you began to call for him again your words suctioned themselves to the back of your throat. A cold sweat of fear beaded on your brow.

The bathroom door was open, the light on, and a shadow moved from the door frame. The figure almost too tall to be completely seen. The shape of it alone made you shiver.

Two long strands of hair sticking up in an iconic V shape shadowed onto the hallway wall.

“All Might?” your voice quivered, graveled and raw. Foreboding dread balled into a tight knot threatening to suck you into dissociation, as if at any moment you would melt into the floor. Slowly wobbly legs moved, approaching just enough to allow a peak over in.

“That is right! FOR I AM HERE!” Your son stood atop of the bathroom counter, his fist raised and a triumphant snaggle toothed smile stretched across red blushing cheeks. A bottle of hair gel spilled out on the counter and an old relic of the past wrapped around his shoulders. The overhead light casted a deceiving shadow.

“I…” Trailing off a wide range of emotions spanning from solace to fear hinted disappointment flooded all at once. Eyes watered, yet never spilled over. The breath you held deflated.

“Don’t I look cool mom?! I look just like him! I look just like All Might!” He beamed. Turning back to the mirror to flex his small arms, striking another one of All Might's signature poses. “I can’t believe you have this! Is this really his?” His hands gripped at the fabric of the cape. The material swallowed him completely, flowing from his tiny shoulders to the floor. You had not seen it in years, not since the move.

“You...” Swallowing the lump in your throat and blinking away unshed tears, you approached. Standing behind him, your heart pounded against your chest, ragged and unsteady beats. Struggling to find words, mouth opening and closing yet no sound escaped. Voice cutting out, crackling into a depressing croak.

An everlasting symptom of that treacherous day reared its head once more. When overly emotional or speaking for too long strain on the scarred vocal cords caused them to lock up, trapping words within. Akeno’s brows furrowed, joy faltering.

“Momma?” Seeing his shifting mood sour hands quickly adjusted, signing in boisterous movements

‘You look so totally awesome, Akeno!’ His eyes stared at the signs reflected in the mirror before going wide with exhilaration, smile returning brighter than before. In one swoop your arms wrapped around his tiny waist in a tight hug. The little boy giggled in delight. With what little strength you retained you held him off of the counter, flying him around the air. Despite the burn of strain inside your abdomen and the sting within your decaying forearm muscles; you could not help but laugh with him.

After laying him to bed for the night you quickly checked under your bed for a certain set of boxes. Thankfully only one had been disturbed. Looking inside the now empty package you could still smell a faint hint of Toshinori’s cologne stained into the cardboard.

You did not have the heart to throw nor give away his cape once realizing it had accidentally been packed in your hasty retreat. The tears you had wiped away earlier returned, unabashedly spilling as stifled nostalgic memories resurfaced.

“Sorry I’m late dear. You know how it is.” Shuffled footsteps trudged through a darkened bedroom. Flipping over your met with the silhouetted figure of Toshinori, thinned fingers unclasping his cape before, In vain reaching for the zipper. Losing it in the folds of loose fabric. A small chuckle roused from your drowsy form.

“Here, let me get it.” Moving to the edge of your shared bed he turned, allowing you to unzip and undress the hefty costume from his thinning frame. Warm hands roamed the now exposed skin of his back, massaging the taught muscles beneath. Letting an exasperated groan his stiffened shoulder relaxed under nimble fingers.

“Thank you.” Humming in response digits curved upward, smoothing over protruding bones of his ribs, noting his subtle weight loss. Leaning forward to rest your forehead into the center of his back, the delectable scent of cologne still lingered on sweat slicked skin. If you had an ounce more of energy you’d fuss for him to shower, however as he turned to face you, and a hand delicately held your face within its palm all thoughts of reprimanding faded. His calloused thumb stroked at your cheek.

“Let’s go to bed.”

Together the two lovers laid within each other's arms.

‘ Maybe,

maybe I should tell him that I’m- No.

This… this was the only way.

It was the right choice. For both of them.’

Yearning for something that could never be again you stuffed the thoughts away, curling into yourself alone atop frigid sheets the phrase repeating itself.

‘This was the right choice.’

Yet it offered no reassurance.

You lied once more when your son awoke. Telling him that the cape unfortunately was not actually one of All Might’s. Instead, it was a surprise birthday gift you had bought him from a local shop. That he could keep playing with it if he was good. A bit disappointed that it was not real, Akeno still loved it, promising to be on his best behavior. He even slept with it like a blanket. Never questioning the fact that his birthday was over four months away.

Now nearing the age of fifteen Akeno had blossomed into such a handsome young man. Though, the older he became the more of him appeared. From the moment he was born with an almost translucent tuft of blonde hair you knew he would lean towards resembling his father. However, as he aged, face thinning over prominent cheekbones and jawline defining; he became the spitting image of Toshinori. A deep void of melancholy, yet also strangely a bit of pride surfaced at this realization.

As the years passed it was clear, he had chosen his path.

Just as his father and you had chosen, your child too dreamed of becoming a hero.

It scared you.

Terrified you even.

You were not the first nor would you be the last to be ‘killed’ in action. He saw the scars. How your voice crackled into stained tones, disappearing into nothingness. The endless hours of futile rehabilitation therapy. The way your body thinned from lack of fully functioning organs.

He saw the possible dangers, yet still dreamed of it.

And if this is what he truly wanted you would support him no matter what.

‘It’s what good mothers do.’

So, when on the verge of graduating middle school, and he came to you with a flyer from an all too familiar school you had to swallow your fear and agree to let him at least try.

“I like this kid's style. Just like me when I was that age!” Present Mic gushed, watching as this year's group of contestants fought through the first wave of robotic opponents. Only five minutes into the entrance exam and already Akeno had hit the ground running. Screeching his way through metallic foes in hopes of scoring enough points, he had already landed himself on the leaderboard.

All Might watched from his swivel chair, remaining silent, focused on his own protege. His new coworkers banter lost on inattentive ears.

“Looks like Mic’s got a favorite already.” Midnight laughed, her hands held up and over her head as she too watched. “He’s doing well so far, may even have a shot at passing. Though not sure any of us could handle two screaming blondes.” Now this snagged a bit of the symbol's attention.

His eyes flitted away from Midoriya’s screen, glancing to the other. Watching with bated interest until a small spark of familiarity struck within him.

‘Odd.’ He could not quite put his finger on it nor shake the sensation. ‘Have we met before? Perhaps on the train or maybe at a grocery store?’ No no, it was not that. If not that then where? What was it about this boy that stuck out to him?

Maybe it was the vibrant blond hair? It was not an uncommon thing, in fact some of the other contestants had wildly outlandish colored hair. Had he saved him before? Had he met him at a meet and greet?

He would have to ponder this another time. For now, his main concern was Midoriya’s lack of points. Retreating to refocus on his successor the test continued.

In the end your son had placed fairly high on the exam, landing him a guaranteed spot at UA. The decision was final.

You are going back to Japan.

“I’m not a child anymore mom.”

“I know I know, you're a perfectly capable young man. But I'm not about to let you move across the world by yourself.” Finished packing the last of your boxes, now awaiting for the international movers to arrive. Akeno leaned against the doorframe. “Besides, you’ll be living in student housing, so you’ll have plenty of alone time.” Turning to the disgruntled boy and bringing a hand up, you ruffled the top of his head. “But remember, I’ll always be just a short drive away!”

He sighed in defeat, eyes turned away from your hopeful smile. It’s not that he did not want you there, but that he needed to be sure his boundaries were set. He needed space to grow.

The entire flight you could not help but fidget with the hemline of your sleeved shirt. It’s been fifteen years since you’ve been back…

Would people recognize you?

You were in a different neighborhood, far away from your old house and even farther than the shared apartment. Yet Japan was only so big, hence the move in the first place, but surely after so long you would have nothing to worry about. Last time you were here you were in your mid twenties, now you are on the doorstep of fifty. With patches of gray, new wrinkles, more than a few scars, and gaunt thinning your appearance had become almost unrecognizable. But wha-

“Are you excited to be back?” Akeno had noticed your nervous movements, nothing lost to such attentive eyes. Taking out one of his headphones he turned to you. “I know it’s been a while.”

“Yes of course I am.” reaching a hand over, you placed it over his atop the armrest, squeezing the larger palm.

“Care if I listen too?” You could hear the cello thump as the beginning of Madame Butterfly chimed through his headphones. He smiled back, even if he could sense the unwavering unease and the blatant fake smile, he said nothing, handing over the removed bud.

The two of you hummed quietly to music until the moon overtook the sun. His head lolled down atop your shoulder as sleep overtook him.

No matter how old he got or how grown up he was he would always be your sweet boy.

“There, this should last you the week.” Packing the last of the homemade bento boxes into the fridge you had made sure to wrap each one in your signature bunny eared bow. A significant downscale compared to your usual outlandishly adorable packaging. “I made your favorite.”

“You do know that they have a cafeteria, right?” Scoffing at Akeno’s remark and standing from bent within the refrigerator your eyes steeled.

“Oh, so you don’t like your mothers cooking anymore huh? Guess I’ll have to eat this all myself.” Reaching back, you began taking the packages out.

“NO! Please! I was kidding! I love your cooking mom. Please leave it.” Panicked eyes widened and a bottom lip quivered in a desperate plea. A hardy laugh pushed through teasingly smirked lips.

“I suppose I’ll let you keep it.”

“Thank you!” Your son's voice returned to its natural cheery tone. Though higher in pitch, alighted with excitement. “Mom there’s something I have to tell you”

Your eyebrows rouse, quickly leave the small kitchenette to join him on the couch. His eyes locked onto yours, swimming with childlike admiration.

“All Might is going to be one of my teachers!” He beamed a wide toothy grin, almost a mirror of the aforementioned hero. You mentally felt yourself deflate like a popped balloon, exhaling as if all the wind had been knocked free. “ Isn’t that awesome?! ” He let out a boisterous laugh.

The smile, the laugh, the hair and those big blue eyes. He truly was the spitting image of that man. You felt weak, hands wet and clammy, stomach turning with queasiness, heart thumping against your chest.

“Mom? Are you okay?” Snapping out of your daze you quickly put on a brave face once again, taking a deep breath and nodding.

“Of course I am! I’m so happy for you ho-'' Your voice chipped and shattered, becoming a harsh croak. Moving to sign the remaining. ‘I am very happy for you! Tell the big man I said hi!’ His eyes tracked each symbol, smile never faltering, used to the use of sign language throughout the years he rejoiced at your admiration with a laugh. Joining him in his laughter, even though yours was nothing more than rushed air and out of nervousness.

“I’m finally going to meet him!”

Today was the day. Akeno's first day of school. Though you weren't there to see him off you made sure to send him a lengthy text of encouragement.

Mom: Have an amazing first day of school my baby! High school is a journey filled with excitement, challenges, and countless opportunities. Please remember no matter what happens I’ll always be here for you! Remember to be yourself and have fun! Send me pictures in uniform!

In response all he had sent back was a thumbs up.

All Might stood behind a corner of a building, watching the first year students endure Mr. Aizawa’s quirk assessment test. Again, fearing for young Midoriya, he knew the boy had little to know control of the quirk he had bestowed upon him. Yet he remained hopeful.

What he had not expected was to find himself staring at another boy from the class.

It was the screeching kid that Mic and Midnight made comments about during the entrance exam that once again nagged at his curiosity. He felt something indescribable when looking at the boy. The familiar feeling from before returned with a vengeance. Scrambling through hazed memories, he again tried to place the boy within the vast archive.

“Akeno, it’s your turn.” Aizawa instructed the class to throw the ball as far as they could using their quirks. Simple enough, several other students had already gone, one even managed to score an infinite. Picking it up, Akeno wound his arm back and launched it. Quite average in all sense of the word, yet midair at its peak his mouth opened, and the sheer wind power behind his yell propelled the ball soaring through the air; Higher and higher until the sound waves could no longer carry it.

‘Oh’…

A shiver ran cold down his wide muscular back. The pitch entered his ears yet sank like a rock in his stomach.

‘Just like her.’

God Damit he could not do this right now.

These ridiculous thoughts brought him nothing but heartache and were quickly shoved into the overflowing filing cabinets inside his mind. Hopefully lost within the jumbled mess forever. It had taken the better half of three years to finally put a lid on the pandora's box that once was you. To backslide now was out of the question.

Rationalize.

Quickly erasing the correlation from his mind with the same cold hard truth he had to continually tell himself anytime a memory of you resurfaced; You were dead .

‘Vocal quirks are not a rare occurrence. This boy was not you. In fact, he looks more like…OH! Stop it Toshinori’ He mentally slapped himself. ‘Focus.’

It was Izuku’s turn to throw the ball. A perfect distraction and an opportunity for his ludicrous mind to get a grip.

Amazed by his pupils' success, the threat of his psyche collapsing was stabilized.

Lunch time had finally arrived, overworked and exhausted from their first half of the day each kid flooded the bustling halls. The first week finally reaching its midpoint.

“Can I sit with you guys?” Akeno stood before the trio, bento box in hand, admittedly he was a bit bashful at the thought of his classmates seeing the cutesy bow tied cloth covering yet his need for socializing trumped all.

“Yeah, for sure!”

“Absolutely!” Midoriya and Ururaka ever the kind and social souls smiled, scooting over to allow him to sit. Iida smiled and greeted his classmate from across the table.

The group made small talk, the main three discussing the woes of upcoming exams and the prompts of Mr. Present Mics writing assignments. Proclaiming that it was far too early to be assigning such tasks. Being the kind soul Akeno had grown into, he offered his assistance with the English class. Seeing as he was exempt from taking it due to already being fluent.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot that you are an exchange student, your Japanese is almost perfect!” Uraraka proclaimed, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Yeah! For only living here for less than a month, your Japanese is amazing. I can barely even hear an ascent!” Izuku added, praising his friend. Questions of the states filled his mind. His mentor had made his debut in America, based all of his costumes and merchandise around their flag and even named all of his moves after its states. He too dreamed of one day traveling and experiencing its wonders. Storing his curiosity, he made a mental note to ask later.

“Well, my mom is originally from Japan. She’s been teaching me Japanese since I first started talking. It’s like second nature.” Akeno chuckled, a shy hand brushing down the spiky blond tips on his neck. Refocused on the topic of travel the group buzzed with excitement.

However as soon as Akeno unwrapped the ribbon and unboxed his bento the conversation steered in a much different direction. A mouth watering scent filled the surrounding area.

“That's so cute! Did you make it yourself? It smells so good! How did you get the fruit into such perfect stars?” Uraraka gushed at the culinary work of art that was her new friend's lunch. Even the grandeur that was offered via the cafeteria paled in comparison, nothing could beat a mother's love.

Again, you had toned down the cuteness of his lunches considerably since he was a child. However, that did not stop you from arranging it with as much passion as you could. It was simple, yet had protein, light carbs, healthy sugars and lots of veggies!

Akeno felt his cheeks redden. Not that he was ashamed, he was grateful to have a mother so caring however he’s a grown man now! And grown men don’t need bows or ribbons or star shaped fruit.

“My mom made it for me.” He mumbled, shying away from their surely scrutinizing gaze, they’ll think he's a sniffling little ‘mommas' boy.’

“Truly moving to see such a loving display!” Iida’s chest swelled with pride for his fellow classmate.

“Maybe your mom could make me one of those!” Uraraka laughed along with Midoriya

“She’s right, it does look amazing!” He agreed. Shocked, Akeno took note of his new friend's approval. He may have to ask a favor of you later.

Akeno loved each day of class, he thrived and excelled. His passion growing stronger yet. With the announcement of the UA sports festival on the horizon he readied himself to go beyond, ‘ plus ultra ’ as his idle, now teacher, would say. As the bell rang and Mr. Aizawa dismissed the class, he gathered his belongings and waited for his friend.

Himself, Iida, Uraraka, and Izuku had grown quite close. Always sticking together when it came to field exercises, study sessions and relaxing at lunch. Your son always came home boasting about how amazing each and every one of his friends were. It brought your motherly heart such joy to see him thriving.

As the halls emptied due to the final bell chiming the group chatted in a more serious tone. Uraraka had confessed that she wanted to be a hero for profit. Initially seeming slightly selfish, as she delved deeper into the reasoning the notion was rectified. Quickly reassuring her that she was noble for wanting to help her family, the group divulged their own causes.

“What about you Akeno, why do you want to be a hero?” Midoriya asked, curious as ever.

“My mom was almost killed by a villain; she was a hero too. I don’t remember much since I was just a little kid, but I know the pain she went through. The years of suffering she had to endure. It’s my life mission to never allow something like that to happen to anyone else!” The young man wore a face of pure determination, his chest swelled with righteousness and a smile stretched across his face.

“That’s an amazing reason Akeno!” Uraraka beamed, her cheeks swelled with pink, and eyes shined with admiration.

“Truly an exceptional motive, you have my commendation!” Iida bowed, truly inspired. Proud to be the class representative of such a dedicated and selfless individual. Izuku simply stared as the blond laughed and kicked out a thumbs up. Green eyes widening at the action.

“When you do that face you kind of look like All Might!” Uraraka chuckled, taking the words straight from Izuku’s imagination. Inside her mind images of the two blondes striking various poses together managed to tint her cheeks darker. ‘So cute!’

“She’s right! Could’ve fooled me” Midoriya laughed, though a hint of nervousness laced the chuckle. The more he looked at his friend the more he could see his mentor in him. A flitting image sparked in his mind, though was overshadowed. ‘Strange.’

Akeno simply laughed with them, happy to be compared to his idol.

“Today we will be practicing search and rescue to prepare you for your visit to the USJ simulation. Just the basics as we’ve discussed over the week.” The under enthused tone of Mr. Aizawa droned to the antsy group of young heroes before him. Laid out before them was a near perfect replica of Jaku City. However, the once proud standing skyscraper lay in disarray. Debris and rubble littered the streets. “Scattered around the city you will find several victims; your goal is to safely remove them from the situation without traumatizing them.” shooting a glare toward his most bain student the simulation commenced.

Racing into the disaster the trainees began implementing their teachings. All without a hitch until a young boy was discovered. Screaming and flailing away from any physical contact he laid inconsolable.

“Hey little guy, it's okay. Everything will be fine, com-” As Deku attempted to approach he again cried out slinking away as a gloved hand reached for him.

“I don’t know what's wrong, he won't respond to anything we say.” Confused and afraid of failing, Momo began to panic. Running to the group, Akeno assessed the situation.

While inspecting the child from a distance his eyes landed on his hands. Small nubbed pointer fingers extended and repeatedly jabbed together. Recognition flashed through his mind. Crouching before the boy, making no attempt to touch him, he waved. Red puffy eyes looked at him and again fingers jabbed together. Akeno’s gloved hand raised, his pointer finger zig zagged in the air and replicated the child’s jabbing motion, ‘where does it hurt?’ Recognizing the signs the boy pointed to his leg. With one palm flat and the other in a thumbs up position atop it Akeno moved it towards the child, ‘let me help you.’ Sucking up his sniffles the child nodded, arms extended out, allowing the hero to pick him up.

His fellow classmates watched in confused awe.

“What was that?” Ururaka inquired as the bell chimed, signaling the end of the simulation.

“He was signing ‘pain’. I just asked him where he was hurt and that I wanted to help him.”

“You know sign language too?”

“Ha yeah, another thing my mom taught me.”

The young man had a surprise for his friends.

You had agreed to make them lunch! How could you resist such an offer?

‘It's what a good mom would do.’

Though it came at a cost. Defiantly holding the bundle of boxes above your head your face held determination.

“If you want it, make me give it to you.”

“Mom! You know I'm not good at this”

“Only way you're going to get better is if you practice, ya know it took me years to perfect it!” You countered, if he had inherited your quirk, it was almost for certain he too could use ‘the command’. Just had to concentrate. Besides, if he truly did not want to try, he towered over you, making it easy to simply take it.

Staring at the bag he focused, breathing in deeply his first attempt a near whisper.

“Did you even activate your quirk? Try again.”

“ Hand me the bag .” Loud sound waves nearly had you dropping it, not out of command but from sheer force pummeling your ear canal as he screamed it.

“Nuh uh, that's cheating. Look at me, focus. Take in the surroundings, feel the air move through your vocal cords, find the right pitch and push the sound into my ears. Again.”

“ Hand me th e bag” Fog overtook your vision for a few seconds, regaining full consciousness you saw both hands extended towards him. Yet the bag still remained firmly in your grip.

“Close enough! Good job Akeno” Dropping the package into expecting hands the boy scurried off. One day he’d master the ability, just needed time and practice.

As the lunch bell rang Akeno called out to the trio, having the group gather around his desk. Reaching into his backpack he pulled out the treasure.

“NO WAY!” Uraraka held her own personalized bento box in hand, your son had mentioned her favor of pink, and you couldn’t help but run with it. An adorable checkered pink fabric covered the box with an elegantly tied bow.

“Thank you so much, please tell your mom I said thank you!” Midoriya’s was of course wrapped in green.

“From me as well!” Iida’s was a beautiful shade of blue.

As the group happily strolled to the cafeteria a looming figure waited before pouncing out from behind a corner.

“Young Midoriya! Would you like to have lunch with me?”

“Uh well, thank you All Might but I-” A firm punch to his arm cut the nervous boy off. Akeno stared at his friend, an eyebrow raised and eyes wide.

“You cannot pass up an opportunity to have lunch with All Might!” He forcefully whispered.

“But your mom-”

“Don’t worry about it!” Sighing in dejection he agreed before rushing to his mentor's side and waving goodbye to his friends. He’d have to properly apologize for missing such a special lunch afterwards.

Sitting across from his pupil All Might skeptically eyed the elegantly tied box. As Midoriya began unwrapping it Toshinori felt a deep pang of nostalgia. From the layout to the smell, even to the encouraging message on the sticky note it felt all too familiar.

“Hey! You forgot your lunch, so I thought I’d swing by to drop it off.” Standing in the doorway of your once shared office with a wrapped box of bento you stared over the mountainous stacks of paper to your beloved blond. “I was wondering if you’d like to share it with me?”

Darkened hues glanced up from their sheet, only for a few seconds before returning to his work.

“Thank you, but I’m a little busy right now.” Not yet defeated, you approached the desk.

“I could help you out if you want, I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s fine. Besides I think Mei is all caught up with your work, no need to stay here all day.” Mei, a name you had come to regard with disdain. The woman he had hired to help ‘ease your workload’ brought a bitter taste to your tongue.

“I could wait until you’re done.”

“I won’t be done for a while, please go back home love. I’ll be back later tonight.”

With lips drawn tight and eyes swimming with animosity you exited, not another word shared.

An agonizing growl of hunger hours later finally forced himself away from the still looming stack. Opening the box and bristling in delight at its aroma he scarfed down as much as his decayed stomach could hold. Placing the lid back atop the container his heart ached at seeing the message scribed sticky note attached.

‘Don’t work too hard! I love you! ’

Truth be told Toshinori did not want you to leave, longing for nothing more than to enjoy the meal together. Yet the ever surging rate of crime due to his limited time left him breakless, charging full steam ahead into his work. Darring a glance to his computer's clock, more time than he had anticipated flew by, 11:42pm.

‘I’ll make it up to her.’

He never was able to.

“Where did you get that?” His voice low and graveled, baritone edging into a bass. Shadows darkening overhead, concealing steeled blue.

He knew it was foolish to relish in such nostalgia however, if he must be plagued, he was at least grateful it is of happier times.

“Oh, Akeno’s mom made it for me. She made all of us lunch!”

‘Akeno’s mom?’ The older man pondered. ‘ Who is she? What does Midoriya know about this woman? What is her name? W- STOP. This is pathetic. It’s just a bento box. Anyone can cook katsu.’ Clearing his throat he nodded.

“That was nice of her.”

Folding a freshly dried pile of clothes you sat within your living room, absentmindedly listening to the local news reporter drone on about the most recent activity within the city. However, the flash and sudden switch to a different reporter piqued your interest. Placing the shirt down and adjusting the volume, pure horror sparked as realization of the man’s words took hold.

“Breaking News: There is said to be an active villain attack at UA’s training facility the U.S.J, Class 1-A students are trapped inside!”

Teleported via warp gate Akeno found himself plummeting into the ocean biome. With only a brief second to grasp the situation he inhaled and braced for impact before diving into the treacherous waters.

The sting of salt blurred his vision yet through the blur he managed to catch the movement of a finned fist, miraculously dodging he struggled to notate his surroundings. Spotting a green blob floating just below, he hoped his assumptions were correct on who it was. Propelled by sound waves he pushes the foe away and himself closer to his classmate. Grabbing ahold of him Akeno releases another shriek thrusting them further away from the swarming thugs.

He cannot keep this up.

Lack of oxygen was beginning to take hold; dots spotted his vision. Despite the burn within his chest, he pushed himself to go further. Finally reaching something solid and using the last gusts of air within his lungs he again propelled them. Rushing upward, they broke the water's surface.

Crashing down onto the hardwood deck Akeno hacked, choking on air, desperate to soothe the burn deep within his chest. However, the gurgle of trapped water prevented any mediation. Even with air all around him, It felt as though he was drowning. His chest felt encumbered. Panicked Midoriya gripped his shoulders and turned his friend onto his side. Rubbing and pounding at his back, finally liquid sputtered out with each cough.

“Is he okay?” Tsuyu emerged from the water, leaping onto the ship, tongue wrapped around a squirming Mineta.

“We need to get out of here, he needs a doctor.” Listening to his friends' short shallow breaths sent Izuku’s mind ablaze. Though he had successfully forced most of the water out, residual liquid still crackled within.

Scared for not only his but also his friends' lives, they needed a plan.

“The pros will save us! Right? They’ll come and beat these guys up and we’ll all be safe.” Mineta panicked, the weight of the situation finally dawning on the perverse trainee. Conversing over exactly what had been said during the initial attack coupled with the situation, Tsu and Deku both knew waiting for the pro’s was not an option.

“We have to stop whatever these bad guys are planning!”

Realizing the flaw in the villain's thwarted plan Midoriya formulated a course of action. Wrapped within Tsu’s tongue and flung through the air via the force of Midoriya’s flick, the group managed to fool and evade the attackers.

Following the shore to avoid the peering eyes of foes swimming closer to the main plaza the exit was within sight. Akeno’s body trembled within his classmate's grasp, struggling to stand, and barely holding onto consciousness. Mr. Aizawa’s battle raged on, their teachers' struggle growing louder as the group approached.

How much longer would he hold out?

A sickening crunch echoed as a monstrous beast's fists crashed down onto their teacher's defeated body, his arms twisting into splintered fractures. Fear spiraled down their spines as the young students could do nothing but observe.

“I can't watch this anymore.” Tears streamed down Mineta’s face as he clutched both hands over his mouth, trying not to puke at the gruesome sight. “We should be getting out of here super fast shouldn’t we?”

Horrified Midoriya glanced from his beaten teacher to his half conscious friend. The once confident persona adopted for escaping the ship now shattered. Internal conflict had him paralyzed.

‘To be a hero you have to put others above yourself.’

The mantra repeated itself over and over within his head. Though, what was he to do now? Two people needed him: Akeno and Mr. Aizawa. They were both in life threatening condition.

Yet… he could not bring himself to choose which one to try to save.

“Oh, before we leave. Let's make sure the symbol of peace is broken.” In an instant the main villain lunged, barreling straight towards their group. “Let's make this hurt! You look too much like him, disgusting. Don’t worry I can fix that.” With a palm extended he advanced, mere centimeters away from Akeno’s face. The group's breaths stalled within their chest, unable to move...

Yet, he stopped, halting dead in his tracks.

His once hate filled eyes glossed over, the red hue now dull and empty.

Mouth agape in shock Midoriya looked to the boy that clung to him.

Akeno’s head was up, his eyes staring towards the villain, mouth moving yet the words inaudible.

“Leave us alone.”

Hushed whispers rushed through the air, directly to their target. Forced in and demanding obedience the command took hold.

Backing away the villain retreated, up the stairs in a disconnected stupor until reuniting with the warp gate.

“What the hell was that!” As Shigaraki’s senses returned, anger boiled within his voice, eyes wide and fingers digging into the skin of his throat. Nails raked over the bloodied irritated skin. “No, no,no,n-” The slam of once sealed doors drew his attention away.

The man they had been waiting for finally arrived.

“Have no fear students. Why? Because I Am Here.”

Faster than the puny thugs could process, All Might swung into action. At last, the young heroes' fears came to rest as they watched the world symbol of peace dispatch of each and every evil doer within his path. Crossing the battle field within seconds he swiftly scooped a beaten Aizawa within his arms and grabbed the group of frightened children. The jarring motion of being flung around sent Akeno into a fit of hacking. His body heaved against the muscular arm, blood splattering against the white button up.

Seeing his colleague and student so injured fueled Toshinori’s already raging inferno. Gritted into a tight frown, his teeth ground together.

‘I should have been here; I should have protected them.’

“Everybody back to the entrance, take Aizawa and Akeno with you. They don’t have much time.” Again, plagued by indecision Izuku again looked between the injured men then back to his mentor. His intuition screamed for him to stay and help All Might, to fight by his side. Based on what Thirteen had indicated before training All Might must be near his limit, leaving him vulnerable. Yet his heart yearned to get them to safety.

Once again, the decision was left in his hands, who does he try to save? Taking notice of his prodigy's indecision, All Might addressed him.

“Young Midoriya! I got this!”

“Right.” At his master's words, Izuku tightened his grip around his classmate while Tsu held Mr. Aizawa, they ran away. Not fully assured the nagging thought of being the soul bearer of All Might’s limit and the danger truly at hand made up his mind. Seeing other classmates racing down to the exit he laid Akeno down.

“Tsu and Mineta, take Mr. Aizawa and Akeno to the entrance, I have to go back.”

“What? Are you crazy? We can't hold both of them! Besides All Might has this handled, we have to go!” Before the grape themed trainees' words even registered, Deku ran past them and back to the ensuing fight.

The battle with the monstrous ‘Nomu’ had the man exhausted. Barely clinging onto his mighty form, All Might’s body trembled in exhaustion. All he had to do was stall and keep up the mirage.

Shots firing and the overly jovial voice of principal Nezu signaled his relief had finally arrived.

“I'm sorry ma’am but I can't let you in. The school is under strict lockdown procedures!” The police standing guard in front of the gates had attempted several times to reassure the grief stricken woman into leaving. Yet you refused.

‘You have to! My son was in the attack! He could be hurt.’ hands quickly signed, yet they could not understand nor make an attempt to. Growing agitated they ordered you to back away. Even when attempting to mouth words of reason their resolve stood firm.

The crackle of a speaker and flicker of a screen caught their attention. A small mouse-like creature's face lit the device. Principal Nezu’s beady eyes and smile stared down to them. His paws placed one over the other, a steaming cup of tea sat atop his desk. Analyzing the situation with a sip of his beverage, he addressed them.

“You must be Akeno’s mother. Please come in.” Metal unlocked and the screech of a singular entrance opening rattled through the once impenetrable wall of steel, an elderly woman stood within its threshold. Her wrinkled features offered a warm smile, as she ushered you in. Despite her cheery attitude the cloud of despair that formulated upon hearing the news refused to dissipate.

You needed to see him, to know that he was okay.

“Right this way dear,” Leading you down the winding corridors, her syringe shaped cane clacked against the tiled floor. Its steady rhythm a direct contrast to the thunderous beat of your heart. Stopping just outside a door labeled as the infirmary your anxiety overflowed. Eyes watered as tears gathered on the rims and a few slipping by.

Gesturing for you to wait she sighed, “I healed him as much as I could, but the boy needs rest. He almost drowned today.” Wiping away the tears you nodded, attempting a brave face yet your mind swam with regrets.

‘He almost drowned? Almost died?! … We've been here less than two months and already he's had a brush with death. Was allowing him to come here truly for the best? What kind of mother am I for willingly putting him in danger? I knew the risks. How could I allow this? How could I…’

“Come.”

Half of the room had been sectioned off by drawn curtains, blocking the other patients from view. Light whispers shared between the two males fell silent once you had entered.

Upon seeing Akeno false bravery slid away and tears fell once more.

Rimmed with darkness his eyes remained closed with heavy breaths as he slept within the white sheeted hospital bed.

‘My baby’

Toshinori and Izuku laid beyond the thin curtain wall, both watching as the silhouetted woman stood before her son.

A shadowed hand reached for the boy, tenderly stroking his cheek before her head bowed to rest against his. Rushed breaths and sniffles indicated her distress as she wept.

An endless pit of anguish at both the situation and himself opened within the older man's heart. Sighing he looked away from the scene, up towards the white ceiling, and an unbandaged arm fell over his eyes. Afflicted by guilt any curiosity regarding the young man's mother vanquished, weighed down with the burden of responsibility.

“I should have been there sooner.” His voice barely above a breathed whisper, more so a taunt to himself. Yet within the otherwise silent room it carried through.

Your sobs stalled for a mere millisecond as recognition sparked fear into your aching heart.

You could recognize Toshinori’s voice anywhere.

‘Not here. Please not here. He can't be here. Not now.’

Trying to muffle the ragged sobs your body struggled to stand. Hunched and breaking you held your son's hand, squeezing it tightly to stay grounded. Heartaching for both the man beyond the curtain and your beloved child, your mind felt hazy, far too many emotions swarmed within.

“Ma’am?” An unfamiliar voice called out to you.

Peeking his head out from behind the curtain walls, Izuku had forgone Recovery Girl’s orders. Saddened and riddled with his own guilt he felt compelled to speak to the grieving woman. Your back remained turned towards him, yet your head lifted slightly in acknowledgment. “Akeno saved my life. He protected me and our classmates. You should be proud of him.”

‘Proud that my son almost got himself killed? Proud that I allowed him into this lethal field? Proud that my son… saved people?’

For a split second your head turned, facing the boy. ‘Akeno risked his life to save him?’ A bittersweet smile splayed across quivering lips. Izuku’s eyes widened, recollection though brief flashed within his mind.

You looked familiar…

Mouthing the words ‘Thank you.’ you turned back.

“I thought I said rest!” Recovery Girl had returned. Infuriated to see her patient in direct violation of her orders, her cane raised ready to wallop. Slinging the curtain back into place Izuku rushed back into his bed, though his mind swirled in confusion at what he had seen, or at least what he thought he saw. Recalling his stockpile of memories in an attempt to place exactly where he recognized that woman from, However, the after effects of Recovery Girl's quirk had his eyelids heavy. Dropping down, mind clouded and unclear sleep took hold before he could reminisce further.

Sitting beside your son's bed you awaited his awakening despite the ever looming presence of a man you had vowed to forsaken mere feet away. Azure eyes opened, hazed and confused they glanced around the unfamiliar room before locking onto you. His mouth opened yet only strained groans escaped. Blond brows furrowed as he continued to struggle, croaking crackled words. Quickly raising your hand you signed;

‘Don’t speak, you’re hurt.’ Nodding his own hands rose from under the sheets.

‘Did we win?’ A silent airy laugh escaped your lips, tears long since dried out. Rubbing his forearm with a soothing hand you comforted him with a nod.

Though the lighthearted mood soon turned stern.

‘You almost died, Akeno.’ Eyes downdrawn he stared at the white bedding. Hands fidgeting for a few moments, desperately trying to find the right words, until they steadied. Blond brows furrowed and lips drew into a tight line.

‘I did what I had to. To protect my friends.’ Sighing, you bent down, kissing the top of his forehead and ruffling a hand through his wild blond locks. Wrapping his arms around his mother the two embraced.

‘I know and I’m proud of you.’

#fanfic #all might #all might x reader #angst #mha all might #mha all might x reader #tw depressing stuff #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #original character #original child character #x reader

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creedslove · 1 year ago

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been on a javier peña binge and your joel boy dad drabble made my mind think...

javier peña being a boy dad? 🥺🥺🥺

Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: fluff

A/N: this is too precious my darling, thank you for this lovely request ❤️

0.7k words

Javier never saw himself as a father, he assumed it would happen eventually as it seemed to happen to everyone, although he never really thought he had the slightest talent for it. Looking back at his childhood memories and his own relationship with his father, he didn't know if he actually had in him to have a decent role in fatherhood. When you broke the news to him, that you were carrying his baby, Javi had to sit down and take a huge breath. Life was simpler at that time, you and him were about to get married, living a quiet and easy life in Laredo, away from the dangerous streets of Colombia and drug cartels. And yet, he felt more challenged than never. He was used to dealing with bad guys and crime, he had been trained for that, however, he hadn't been trained to handle little babies, diaper changes or preparing formula. And suddenly, the man who would never shy away from Pablo Escobar, was terrified of a baby.

He wouldn't run away from his responsibility at all, Javier wasn't like that, he was a good soon-to-be husband and followed you to every single one of your appointments, he made sure to remodel the baby room as best as you wanted him to. When you both picked a name Gabriel, but eventually only called him Gabe in a short and sweet way, Javi was still getting used to the idea, to know he was having a boy, it both amused and scared him. On one hand, he knew exactly what he never wanted to do to his son, taking in the shaky relationship he had with Chucho, but he also knew exactly things he didn't want to see Gabe doing, because he had done it before and just now that he was about to become a dad, he realized how painful it was to his own.

Javi would rest his head on your stomach every single night, sighing happily as he talked to his sweet little Gabe, telling him the wonderful things he would meet in the world in a little while. Javier had seen the worst, so he wanted nothing but to see his son meeting the best things he could. He loved that little thing more than he ever thought it would be possible, and he couldn't wait to see his little face.

When Gabe was born, Javi was the happiest he'd ever felt, of course things were challenging and scary, but overall, he was enjoying fatherhood much more than he thought he would.

The years passed by fast and his little Gabe was three now. He was adorable, looking a lot like you, same beautiful smile, and hair, getting only the brown eyes from his daddy, which was your doom as you couldn't handle Javi's puppy eyes, let alone your son's.

Gabe and his dad, shared a special bond, as the little boy grew more and more into a ranch boy just like Javier was at his age, he would wait by the fence every single afternoon just to see his daddy arrive, Javier would pick him up and they would go pet the horses, because Gabe loved them, but they were still big and scary for him to go alone. Javi loved that kind of welcome home tradition, the only times his boy hadn't welcomed him were the ones he was sick, so it filled him with happiness to get home and see him by the fence. The moment he saw his daddy's truck, he clapped excitedly and rushed to Javi as soon as he was out of the car

"Daddy!!!!" He squealed at the top of his little lungs and smiled big as he was lifted up. He wrapped his arms around Javier's neck and snuggled him

"Let's play horses, daddy!" He tilted his head adorably and Javi agreed, taking his boy to the stables. He would never be able to say no to his son, he loved him, just as Gabe loved him. You had given Javier Peña a perfect family and he wanted to show you his gratitude every single day for the rest of his life, because now, it was definitely worth living.

____

A/N: I want to give Javi a beautiful family too 🥺

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal drabble #pedro pascal one shot #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña imagine #javier peña drabble #javier peña one shot

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greenerteacups · 2 months ago

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Hi, hi! I never shut up in my fic comments, so I’m going to practice restraint here and quietly scream that I find everything about Lionheart delightful. It’s such a smart, witty, honest, beautiful, and deeply romantic story that honors a character arc for Draco that scratches so many itches in my brain. Every time I read it, I feel spoiled.

I have SO MANY questions and general exclamations, but I’ll stick to one. I always love reading your thoughts, but there is zero, null, zip pressure to respond in any way. Just think of this ask as an energetic virtual wave.

So, if your Narcissa and Molly were forced to name each other’s biggest flaw, what would they say? (I ask this knowing that what whatever they said wouldn’t necessarily be true, of course.) I’m endlessly fascinated by their parenting, but also the lives they lead beyond it. Molly and the Order. Narcissa and the pureblood circles she’s navigated her whole life. They both so obviously love their children, but I can’t ever decide if Molly’s dislike for Narcissa (I mean, I’m assuming she dislikes her) would include a stiffly admitted “you’ve raised a good son,” or if she’d say “Draco became good in spite of you.”

<3 Tig

TIG!! Hello! I read your comments religiously, and by that I mean with the totemic reverence properly afforded to King St. Stephen of Hungary's right forearm. I hoard them in my inbox like Smaug's jewels and kick my feet like a schoolgirl over them. Or like a very schoolgirlish mixed metaphor of a dragon, that is. The longer, the more dragonly schoolgirling. To wit, I have been grinning at this stupidly for like, five whole minutes.

What would Narcissa and Molly say about each other? I wonder, I wonder. They're quite alike in being protective and (in their way) nurturing mothers. They both take pains to keep their children out of the war effort, albeit somewhat unsuccessfully. They're also very prideful, domineering, and intent on getting their own way. I think Draco acclimates to Molly's parenting style when he's around the Weasleys in part because it's so similar to his own home: you have a present and visibly dominant mother figure, who gives most of the orders, and then an auxiliary (or, in Lucius's case, absent) father figure whose name is usually invoked only to give force to the mother's commands. They also had children around the same time, though Molly was a mother years before Narcissa was, and so probably thinks of Narcissa as quite young. I expect there would be an element of mutual condescension, if not outright scorn. Both of them believe very strongly that their ideas are The Right Things, and if you disagree with them, it doesn't matter what your reasons are, you are simply Wrong. They have equally inflexible moral compasses that happen to be oriented around radically different poles.

They are also both — and I don't think it's a spoiler to say this, because everything I'm about to say is stated in the text — extremely competent fighters. Narcissa never fought in the first Wizarding War, but she's still an accomplished duelist, and formidable enough to have the respect of both Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore. She's an expert Occlumens, practiced Legilimens, and her husband was the Dark Lord's right hand. Molly Weasley, on the other hand, is one of the only people alive to have beaten Alastor Moody in a duel, and one of the few people in the Order who seems to feel comfortable giving shit back to him at Grimmauld Place. It's worth noting, too, that Molly is fairly bellicose as a person — she has a snap-your-fingers temper — and among her seven children, you have (canonically speaking):

a curse-breaker (one of the hardest/most demanding intellectual jobs in the wizarding world),

a dragon-tamer (holy fuck),

a Head Boy with more N.E.W.T.s than Hermione canonically has, who got a high-ranking aide position in Wizard Parliament straight out of high school,

two crackpot inventors who start a business selling bioweapons at age 17,

a chess prodigy who beats a 50-something master at age 11; hijacks a flying manual car, teaches himself to drive it, flies the fucking thing from Devon to Surrey, and kidnaps his best friend; subsequently flies it again from LONDON to HIGHLAND SCOTLAND; uses said car to bulldoze a horde of giant spiders; threatens a serial killer to his face, while nursing a broken leg; breaks into the wizarding version of MI6; blows it up; ensuingly helps prosecute a war effort to prevent a fascist takeover of Britain; and:

Ginny Weasley.

And on the other hand, you have Narcissa (in Lionheart), whose children, though few in number, consist of:

Draco Malfoy (prodigious, annoying, thus far remarkably hard to kill).

So regardless of your stance on the nature/nurture debate, you have to believe there's some fairly intense parenting happening on either side of the equation.

In my fic, they also both hold similar roles in the present: involved in the war effort, but not in the same way some of their colleagues are, either by choice (Molly being the de facto quartermaster for the Order safehouse, and hence the Order) or by necessity (Narcissa being unable to come out publicly on either side of the conflict without putting herself, and Draco, in danger). Those positions of "neutrality," which for both of them is really just a cover for their work as covert operatives, is made possible by the fact that they are mothers. No one would suspect the impoverished housewife Molly Weasley of running a guerrilla military out of her kitchen; likewise, few would suspect reclusive, tragic pureblood widow Narcissa Malfoy of being the pet huntress of Albus Dumbledore. Which is part of what makes them so effective. There's also something in the fact that they're both very feminine, both in their position and how they hold themselves, but they embody different aspects of femininity — specifically, the elements of femininity that are useful to their cover. Molly leans heavily into her role as the blustering, bossy, overworked mother, to the point that most of her children don't see her as anything else. Narcissa, on the other hand, leans into the "Mater dolorosa" angle, presenting herself as this demure, ladylike mistress-of-the-house, which is helped by the fact that her husband's death gives her an excuse not to go out often. The perception that she's a frail widow crippled by grief — which is anything but the truth, as becomes clear pretty much by her first appearances of Lionheart — means that people in her pureblood circles don't make the same demands of her that they would of Lucius, and she absolutely exploits that to her advantage. They're both Gen X women who grew up during (if not slightly before) the second-wave feminist movement; their relationships with sex and social position flow from that. They don't break molds; they flip them to their advantage.

Anyway, I've totally neglected your question. To wit: Narcissa would say that Molly's greatest flaw is her inability to conceive of an ideal more important than happiness. Molly would say that Narcissa's is cowardice.

#greenteacup asks #<3333 #you know writing this makes me realize how much ron is the mvp of COS #and how little he gets to do later :(#i get that it's not all about the big fights and who gets the TKO but c'mon. nothing for my boy?#my beautiful boy ron?#no kills? no plots? :((#lionheart spoilers

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soul-of-tilly · 2 months ago

Text

~~The Future~~

Summery: Tom Riddle seeks out oracle!reader, who is torn between instincts.

“The Gift was demanding, yes, but also notoriously and desperately attracted to dangerous people.”

Pairings: Tom Riddle x fem!Slytherin!reader

Notes: I plan to make this multiple parts! This will be the first series I’ve ever done so we’ll see how it goes 😵‍💫

Welcome to The Soul!

“Relax, Esme,” came Owler’s chronically unconcerned voice, along with an eye roll and a habitual tug on his green necktie. “We’re already late, might as well take our time.” To Owler, absolutely nothing warranted more than a leisurely stroll. And usually you would’ve agreed with him, if not for the circumstances of your lateness. “I doubt Professor Onai will think ‘jinxing Carmen Advile’s ex boyfriend’ is an adequate excuse.”

“So worth it,” he smirked, as you rubbed your temples. “Look, Owler, now you’ve given me a headache,” Not that it needed much, these days.

“Besides! I cannot be stuck with Lestrange again,” you lamented, the memories of last classes incident, (involving a crystal ball, a hover charm, and a goaded Peeves) all proved to be the last straw in your already thin patience and added to the present throb behind your eyes.

Divination would have easily been your most enjoyable class, if not for the fact that more often than not, you were sat next to a total dunce. You often wondered if Onai used your natural talent as a counterweight for everyone else’s fool. She had clocked you instantly as Lerrona Pythia’s eldest granddaughter— one of the greatest Seers of her time— and then immediately pronounced you Gifted in front of the whole class, to your dismay. The Gift was a personal thing, she should know. She seemed to be doing little to cultivate said Gift, however, because for the last two weeks, she’d assigned you to work with the mayor of Stupidville himself.

Probably the only other apt person in that class was Riddle, the perfect Slytherin Head Boy. Not that he would’ve even have any use or talent in the class; it was a feminine magic. He just seemed to excel at anything he touched.

Everyone seemed to either love him or hate him; public opinion being skewed overwhelmingly to the former.

You seemed to be the only exception to these polars. Yes, he was as handsome as everyone said, just as charming as well. Yet you’d seen those rare flickers of emotion in his shallow eyes and the flinches of his clique that followed. The Gift perked at the thought, shifting in you, welling that familiar curiosity and a rich sense of doom.

Those brief flashes of something other than the mask frightened those who knew to be afraid… Should you be afraid?

The Stirring was something your grandmother warned never to ignore, yet a tear in your instincts manifested. He was none of your business. None of your responsibility. So what if The Gift had a prophecy for him? Nothing you couldn’t ignore. Besides, there would never be a situation it could reveal itself. You’d never been alone in a room with Tom Riddle, and you didn’t plan on it. The Gift was demanding of course, but also notoriously and desperately attracted to dangerous people, it’s judgement occasionally bias.

Yes, that itch was best left unscratched, you decided.

“Onai sticks me with that asshat every chance she gets- Oh for god’s sake!” The already excessively long corridor leading to the Divination Stairwell was now literally stretching; new doors popping up to fill the spaces as the hallway horizontally expanded.

Owler only smirked at the castle’s show of unhelpfulness. “Screw Lestrange, we’ll make him move and I’ll sit with you.” You sighed, knowing Owler, that was probably an empty promise. The castle actively acting as an obstacle seemed to be the real thing that swayed you. Or rather, made you give up.

The trapdoor opened with a thunk, and almost comically, the small population of your fellow Slytherins along with the Gryffindors all turned their heads to the back of the classroom, where your head had popped up.

Professor Onai, now annoyed with the class’s stolen attention, pursed her lips and briskly ushered you and Owler up.

“Ms. Pythia, please take a seat with Mr. Lestrange, and Mr. Tisgrace please join Ms. Greenglass.” You wanted to curl up and die, but Owler only shrugged as he wandered toward the opposite side of the classroom. Despite your foul mood and the pang behind your eyes, the smell of oolong infiltrated your senses. You noticed with microscopic satisfaction, the tea sets present at every table. Tea leaves? He most likely won’t fuck this up.

As you made your way to your seat, Riddle caught your eye. Perfect as usual; neat curls, sharp jaw, shiny badge, and that damned blank expression that looked right up to meet you. His posture slightly straighter than normal, and he was twirling his pen. A habit you’d never noticed before. You inhaled and looked away, headache intensifying at the eye contact. Why does The Gift have to hurt?

After taking your spot across the dreaded boy, you sighed, deciding that he looked even stupider than usual today. He sat, casting somewhat dejected looks over your shoulder, directly to where his posse of Slytherin boys were sitting behind you.

It was none of your business if he’d gotten ruffed up or not; any wrongdoing to Lestrange was charity to everyone.

What exactly that little cult had going on was virtually invisible to the rest of the school, but being Slytherin yourself came with the occasional whisper of gossip. Riddle was obviously the ringleader of sorts, ordering around the other boys in his circle, while also successfully covering anything suspicious with his credibility. Not that anyone was suspicious about anything, really. Fellow Slytherins chose to turn blind eyes, and everything else flew under the radar.

“You may commence!” Onai declared, gaining her usual bravado back and interrupting your thoughts.

As if commanded to, Lestrange hastily poured your cup quicker than you could get to it, a drop sloshing over the rim and pooling on the saucer below- before glancing again at the table behind you. How unusual indeed. An unimpressed scoff is all he got from you as you took the cup.

Trying to be polite or under someone’s thumb? It was absolutely the latter, seeing as Lestrange had quite literally never done anything nice for another person before, especially not something so mundane as pouring tea. It was all you could do not to roll your eyes; judging by his out of character performance, the brat probably managed to fuck up somehow and was now on some sort of probation ordered by his gang. Serves him right, the little twat. You averted your keen eyes from him, opting to glance at him from over the lip of your cup every once and a while. You sipped away at the liquid, decidedly unconcerned by his dampened mood as you flipped languidly through the softened and worn pages of your mothers divination textbook.

“Page 117 has the key,” he spoke suddenly. You knew this of course, having memorized the entire thing by age 10. Your head shot up nonetheless, only to find him locked on the page presented. You were mildly surprised at his tone of voice… no… could it be? Timid? This was definitely out of the ordinary, and starting to peak your interest. You swallowed the last of the oolong, set your tea cup back on its saucer and cut to page 117.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Owler, wait!” You huffed indignantly at the end of the corridor. There he was in his lack of glory, talking up Advile on their way to the Great Hall.

He turned upon hearing your voice, spotted you, grinned like a madman, and promptly made a very inappropriate gesture in regards to Advile; standing clueless next to him.

All you could do was grimace and roll your eyes, irritatedly deciding it wasn’t worth it. You opted for the long route, leaving them be. Poor girl, you cringed at the idea of being in her place; Owler pawing after you.

You found him soon enough, conversing with Greenglass and Morestone in your usual spot at the Slytherin table.

You plopped your bag on the table, making Owler jump in surprise before he turned to you, that stupid smile on his face, satisfied by your last encounter.

“You make me sick, you know that?” You took your seat next to him and dug your fork into his pudding.

“Me and Carmen are in love, you wouldn’t understand,” he batted his eyelashes sarcastically, lacing his fingers together under his chin.

You scoffed, mouth full of pudding. “Poor girl, she deserves better, really.” That earned you a slightly too painful kick under the table.

“Hey! She likes me despite my faults, Esme!” He declared as you started to pile dinner onto your own plate. “That’s what real love is about!”

You were about to retort back, when something caught your eye at the opposite end of the table. Riddle and Lestrange, sitting together, both appearing to be concentrated on you. You met their eyes unafraid, who do they think they are? Lestrange immediately looked away, only confusing you more. He was exceptionally out of the ordinary today. He even read the leaves correctly and didn’t break the cup.

Riddle however was not one to look away- piercing brown irises trained on yours. It was you who broke away; suddenly your headache was back full force. You cringed and turned your head, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. In realization your stomach dropped. The Stirring was truly becoming unbearable… The Gift had a warning for him, you were positive now.

#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #original character #slow burn #slytherin!reader

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