#and not Perfectly. but enough that you’re angry that the world wasn’t kind enough to her to give her a way out

[numberonesnarkfan]

wrote up a scene I've had in my head for months about Sawyer's childhood. Actually quite proud of how it turned out.

(CW for animal death)

Harley rarely smiled. 

Harley wasn’t happy.

But sometimes he was content for a moment, and that was close enough for him.

Sometimes he was unreachably manic. That was close enough for him.

Harley was eight years old. The little wooden house on the hill was his fourth foster home. Nobody ever kept him for long. They were polite, but he knew what they were thinking. If it wasn’t his general demeanour, it was little ‘incidents’ that got him put back into the orphanage.

Or juvy.

Sometimes the orphanage just didn’t have enough room.

Harley had never felt safe around people, even as a child. They did terrible things to him - the adults, the children. The guilty, the innocent. Didn’t matter. There was something blackened and rotten inside him, he knew. It made him unsafe from the world.

Animals, in comparison, were kind. They bit him not because of that confusing mass, but just because they were scared. He’d prefer to be bitten by a dog: he’d know he’d done something wrong and how to fix it. Humans bit him because he was scared.

He was only a boy. 

He wished death didn’t exist. He felt angry when he saw mothers and their daughters. Perfectly matched sets, so pure.

The orphanage nuns told him that the goat fled into the forest when its family was sacrificed, taking all of the world’s sin with it. He felt like a goat sometimes. Lamb to the slaughter.

He felt like a goat in the forest.

The forest was nice.

It was quiet, calm. No screaming or crying, no laughing or grabbing. Just him and the trees and Daisy.

Daisy was a Jack Russel Terrier. She bit him when she was scared. She licked him kindly when she was sorry. He trusted her. 

They played games with sticks and rocks. Harley sometimes waded into the pond until the water was up to his chest to catch newts and frogs. Daisy snuffled around at the edge of the water. She trusted him. 

Harley watched Daisy chase animals in the undergrowth. “That’s what Jack Russels do,” the foster lady had told him, “they’re bred to kill things smaller than themselves. Daisy’s great at catching rats.”

Mice and rats and snakes.

She trusted him.

He trusted her.

She wasn’t human.

But neither was he.

Harley remembered a summer night.

He remembered it for a long time.

It was half past eight at night. 

“I might just have to foster fail with you, boy.” His foster mother had told him while cooking dinner, “You’re so clever, you’d fit right into our family. When my husband comes back from overseas, he’d love to meet you.”

Cautiously, he’d smiled. 

There was a noise from the front porch. Daisy was barking at a raccoon again. He’d have to bring her inside. She’d try to fight anything.

Harley put on his summer evening coat and stepped outside. He remembered how it felt to reach up and grab the handle. He’d been so proud that he was tall enough. 

He didn’t see a raccoon. He saw a snake that darted quickly away into the foliage.

Daisy lay on her back. Her mouth opened. Her mouth closed. Her mouth opened. Her mouth closed. Her eyes stared. 

Harley heard no sound, no breath, no barking. He didn’t know what was happening. How could he?

He stood and stared.

Her mouth opened. Her mouth closed. Her mouth opened. Her mouth closed.

She went still.

What just happened?

He laughed.

“Daisy’s being silly!” he called back into the house. He mimicked her mouth movements. He thought it looked like a fish. It was funny. He was only a boy.

He sat down next to her and rubbed her belly. She felt different. 

Harley knew what dead things looked like. He’d seen dead lizards, dead bugs, dead kids. Daisy looked too much like a dead thing. 

He hit her. He kicked her. Bite me, he’d thought, Get up and bark at me. 

She didn’t.

He stood and stared. Her body slowly stiffened.

He heard creaking. His foster mother was on the second floor. 

Harley ran back into the house. Back into the kitchen.

Harley reached up over the countertop.

She had been dicing tomatoes. He pulled the knife down.

He walked solemnly back outside. His eyes felt wet, and they burned.

Harley stood over the dog.

It wasn’t Daisy anymore. Daisy was dead. Daisy didn’t exist.

Tears fell and soaked into her fur. 

Harley raised the blade and cut.

He struggled to saw a line down her middle. His arms were barely strong enough, even gripping the knife with both hands, cutting towards himself. He opened the hole. 

He saw her organs. They were still. 

He reached inside. It was still warm. 

He cried.

He didn’t understand.

How could he?

He was only a boy.

He trusted her.

Harley flinched.

He only realised why a few seconds later. There’d been a scream.

The foster lady was standing in the doorway.

She stared at the boy, arm deep inside her precious girl. The knife sat beside him. She’d only left it unattended for a moment.

She wondered what he’d been doing to Daisy out there in the woods, if he could kill her in cold blood right here.

He didn’t understand.

He was only a boy.

He trusted her. 

How could he?

The blood wasn’t washed off until he was at the police station. 

He might hurt the other kids, they said. He’d go to juvy this time.

He didn’t understand. How could he?

He was only a boy.

He’d only been a boy.

[shorthaltsjester]

begging twitter to stop showing me tweets of people with no reading comprehension misrepresenting things I said but since i was going to make this more in-depth post Anyway .

when i say imogen is better read as a metaphor for generational trauma than she is a metaphor for queerness or chronic pain, i’m not talking about legitimate traits she has as a character. obviously she is queer. obviously she experiences some form of chronic pain (though i would argue her magic better suits chronic illness not pain because she states that it’s Not always painful, but it does always influence how she lives her life).

when i talk about how well she’s understood as a metaphor, i’m talking about when i’m looking at her as a part of a story, as an arc that i am witnessing rather than in the more typical fandom way of this is a fictional person who interacts with exandria as real people do. and that is a fun way to interact with characters, i enjoy it a lot! but when i say imogen (to me, as i for some reason have to clarify on my own blog which implies that these are my own opinions and not absolute fact that needs to be accepted by people on the internet with different experience and opinions than me) is best read as a metaphor for generational trauma, it isn’t a dismissal of her queerness or her illness, it’s just me thinking looking at her from that angle is more compelling.

imogen has been one of my favourite characters and least favourite characters in campaign 3 because i tend to analyse her through a lens of generational trauma and she ends up looking extremely familiar to me as someone with a family that carries their’s heavily which is as comforting as it is frustrating.

for me the main thing that looking at imogen through a queer lens of literary analysis fails to account for is harm. on the one hand - the harm that imogen experiences, not because of how people treat her for who she is, but that exists simply as a factor of her being ruidusborn. on the other hand a the harm that imogen causes. not to say that she is some malicious villain waiting for her chance to harm others, but that there are things about being ruidusborn that very much do incline her towards violence in a way that she might not otherwise be - i think about the conversation after she went nuclear and chet brought up people being scared of her connecting that to her father keeping distance. the only harm that queerness provides comes from society, and that isn’t the case in exandria. even metaphorically, the thing that society fears in ruidusborn people (while it has certainly been exacerbated by centuries of superstition and practices like we saw in zephrah) is a tangible threat. imogen’s magic when not controlled can wipe out a city block, but queerness poses no threat.

that’s why i’m not compelled by imogen’s backstory as a queer metaphor. not because i’m some imodna anti (i very emphatically am not but this fandom kinda makes me wish i was sometimes) or because i think exandria’s lack of homophobia/transphobia means that characters can’t be viewed through a queer lens or that critical role doesn’t contain some of the most compelling queer metaphor i’ve encountered. imogen just isn’t one of those characters, not because she isn’t queer, or because i think her story shouldn’t resonate with queer people, just because i find the generational trauma angle more consistent.

it’s similar with the chronic illness angle, which i will refer to as illness but you’re welcome to emphasise pain, we all have different vocabularies for the experiences we face. but just to give context i’m running off laura’s comparison of imogen’s powers to her own sensory issues and anxiety which while often Lead to pain, fall more into chronic illness in imogen’s context to me. and i do think there’s substantial comparison for imogen’s story as a metaphor for chronic illness, but i think that was much more true earlier in the campaign than it is looking at her from the current context. her beginning motivation being her search for knowledge about her powers really resonated with me as similar to someone experiencing symptoms of chronic illness but who could neither figure out how to treat them or what they were caused by.

but then imogen got more information, specifically about her mother, and her priority became not understanding her powers but understanding her current state as a person - how had she become the person she is, inclusive of her powers but very much emphasising her lack of a mother who became more and more present in the unweaving web of ruidusborn lore. that’s when i was less compelled by the chronic illness reading and more compelled by viewing her as a metaphor for generational trauma. had that not been enough on its own, imogen’s visit to relvin and her recent thoughts on her mother would be enough to convince me.

the part that makes me hesitant about this post is that generational trauma is so intensely linked to the contexts under which it is created and perpetuated. so i can’t really point to specific scenes as evidence of specific things that prove generational trauma is the most compelling and i don’t really want to unload that much of my own experience to clarify my thoughts on a character. but vaguely, i will say that imogen’s relationship with her parents is obviously the clearest source for my reading her as a metaphor for generational trauma. the fact that relvin, the only person in her family without the thing that draws society’s ire, is also the person that she has the most willing anger at is also indicative of this to me. in general, imogen’s rage that so easily transitions into sadness and vice versa comes out a lot in conversations about parents. most recently, i think about ashton’s lovely speech about found family and his distrust about parents and how as they were speaking, laura seemed to be playing imogen as sadly in thought versus months ago when fearnes parents showed up with striking similarities to liliana and imogen’s words of wisdom were let’s hurt them all.

and like. to me that angersadnessvengeancegrief is particularly evocative of the feelings that arise when you are in a family with generational trauma, especially when you are aware of it. because imogen can and has followed the logical steps that have led her and her family to where they are. early on when recounting her relationship with her dad she seemed wistful but understanding of the distance between them. in nearly every encountered with a parental figure imogen seems to be some level of distrusting for the most part, but she’s still holding out hope that her mother will see the good side. and further, there’s the complication of how dire her losing her powers seems to be, and how inextricable her powers are from every aspect of her life. she’s also southern and from a blue collar family. this means nothing except it also means a whole lot.

this is messy and not well organised but if you want a good essay you’re gonna have to pay me money for it but tldr: i say things i believe on my This Is My Opinion Blog and i don’t think i need to explain my thoughts to strangers on the internet but this was already half written in my drafts and if people are gonna shit on my opinions please at least do it in good faith and shit on my actual opinions not the ones you’ve decided i have.

[sugarikiz]

TEN THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU (the sugarikiz new year special) | nmrk.

𝓅récis co-starring in a christmas romance movie with an annoying, cocky japanese boy wasn’t on your winter bucket list. if it had to be specified, it was anything but. this holiday movie was supposed to be about ninety minutes long, but what if the real romance was between you and your fellow lead?

𝓈tarring actor! riki x 𝑓. actress! reader . 𝓈econd leads nakamura kazuha (le sserafim) , park jongseong (enhypen) . 𝒸ameos kim sunoo (enhypen) , kim chaewon (le sserafim)

𝓌arnings intended use of lower case fluff some angst periods + period cramps (reader has them) mentions of murder 𝓌c 4.43k

tags — @awhrin @roarr-ki @flufflights @lunaritex

NOT PROOFREAD !!

this was not how it was supposed to go. first of all, you were expecting a thriller movie to act in, not a stupid romance one with a name as original as ‘winter love’ (damn your so-called “most sought after” manager for hiding such important details from you) and secondly, you were not supposed to hate your co-star just as much as you did.

you — being a successful actress — had already been through your fair share of filming and always became good friends with your past co-stars, or at least acquaintances; the ones where you like their Instagram posts every once in a while.

but the second you locked eyes with nishimura riki, it was crystal clear that you were going to hate each other; or at least there would be a one sided hate (all of the hate coming from your side, just to be clear).

You were relieved that the second leads in the movie were much better; kind and friendly. jay was known to you — not personally, but you had seen him in some movies before, and all of them were hits. his chiseled features made him all the better suited for lead roles, sometimes sub-lead; like the movie you were acting in right now, for example.

and kazuha, the second female lead, was just as sweet. she’s talented, she’s nice to you, and makes the worlds best morning smoothies for you and her when she comes to the set on a daily basis. what’s not to like?

now, let’s talk about riki, the main reason you’re this depressed about this role. of course. he was the man; well styled hair with bangs that framed his face absolutely perfectly, an even complexion and smooth, pore-less skin, a charming smile and personality that could warm up to absolutely anyone. anyone but you.

you saw everything that no one else saw, all because they were too blinded by the effortless charm he exuded. there was no way in hell you’d fall for that stupid facade.

so, — as you sat in your dressing room on day three of your filming with said guy — to pass some time, you decided to open your notes app and list down all the things you hated about nishimura riki.

one. he’s cocky

that god forbidden smirk of his is perennially plastered on his face, so much so that you just want to wipe it off about a hundred times a day.

exactly like right now, when you’re filming a scene; the classic, cliché scene where the two leads bump into each other, love at first sight, blah blah blah — and the only time the expression would fade was when the director said “cut!” in a booming tone, loud enough for the whole population of the set to hear, including the black-vested film set gofers — with ‘crew’ misspelled as ‘crwe’ on the back for no apparent reason — teetering around.

riki was constantly teasing you, and was it in a funny or entertaining way? no. he was being a pure menace, especially with the way one corner of his lips was constantly tugged up. it wasn’t a smile, it wasn’t a grin, it was a fully fledged smirk.

“aww, is someone getting angry?” riki chuckled, mockingly pouting at you.

oh, that pout was just enough to get under your skin, and he knew it. he may be handsome, but the annoyingness factor ruled over that by a mile. scratch that; a hundred miles.

“go away” you muttered under your breath, trying to walk away from him, but he was relentless. “no, not getting rid of me that easy” he said, the expression on his face a mixture of a smirk and a grin; and not to lie, he looked good with it. but you could never tell him that, it’d just boost his already inflated ego.

two. he’s selfish

here you are, standing in line at the small coffee shop van that was set up for the actors and film crew. the old lady behind the counter was a tiny bit sour: only since vance moreau — assistant director — had taken four helpings from the bowl of cookies to have with the coffee.

amazingly so, riki ended up in front of you in the line, claiming oh so boisterously to his assistant that he was hungry; just for him to be sent away to get his food on his own.

a small sulk was present on his face, one that wasn’t very often seen, but you were there, so he could tease you to make it go away.

“oh hello there, y/n. didn’t expect to see you here” he chuckled, earning a roll of your eyes as a response to his greeting. “im part of the movie too, you know?” you say, a hint of sarcasm in your tone as you spoke.

the conversation continued, and as his turn came up, he ordered exactly what you were planning in your head. he ordered the last cookie, which you explicitly said you wanted in front of him when he asked you what you were going to get.

you scoffed as he took the cookie in his hand with a smirk, — again, there comes reason number one — and gave him an icy glare

“i will not let this go down that easy, you understand?” you glowered as you walked away, no cookie in hand

for the first time in many months; it snowed. the days had gone by since you first started filming the movie, and it was going well; all except the situation with your co-star.

riki still annoyed you to no end, constantly teasing and mocking you both on and off camera — the reason being that he has to play a cocky character in the movie too, which of course, was absolutely no problem for him.

yet, you learned by now to keep all the irritation towards said guy at the back of your mind, enjoying the filming process and cold weather.

there was a break from filming for half of today’s day. the snow was falling in small flurries onto your beanie, a bomber jacket shielding your body from the cold. you ran about with kazuha, fits of giggles leaving the both of your lips as you threw snowballs at each other, completely missing each other most of the time.

riki watched from a distance, watching as you two ran around like two elementary-going schoolgirls.

he watched the way a few strands of hair from one of your two braids fell forward onto your face, before your hand brushed them away in a swift motion.

he watched the way your freshly-done nails glistened in the soft, winter sunlight; small lines of white glistening across your nails.

he watched as your cheeks blushed slightly from the cold, the red colour faint and light, but still visible.

the only reason he realised he was staring you down was when you looked towards him, probably feeling his gaze on you. he looked away immediately, not wanting to get caught spacing out while having his eyes on you.

you flash him a small, amused smirk, happy that you finally found a reason to smirk at him, not the other way around. you turned your attention back to kazuha when she snapped her fingers in front of your face “y/n? helloooo?” your head snapped ahead, a sheepish smile overtaking the smirk on your face.

“sorry, I just spaced out…” you mumbled, before picking up another handful of snow to throw at her shoulder to get back to the earlier fun.

three. he’s insufferable

you were sitting in your makeup room, getting your makeup done; while your phone sat on a small table outside the room, for some reason.

you calmly walked out of your makeup studio, and went up to the table your phone was left at to go get it: and then you saw the fake cockroach that was cleverly left by the most terrible person in your life: nishimura riki, of course.

a small yelp left your mouth when you looked at the small, brown creature that made itself comfortable on your phone, before you saw riki amusedly looking at you with a mischievous glint in hi

your eyes locked with his, your eyes boring holes into dark, shining ones. he gave you a borderline innocent look, before nonchalantly turning away as if he didn’t do anything.

he was so dead for this.

four. he acts like a genius

“you’re doing it wrong.”

“can’t you ever mind your own business?” you scoff in response to his comment. he had called you dumb when you added your sugar into your coffee after you you made it, saying it would be more efficient to just put it in first.

“nope” he smirked, leaning against the counter of the coffee stall as you continued to stir the sugar into your coffee.

god, he was being so irritating right now.

“go away, riki. I don’t have time to deal with you right now.” he puts a hand on his heart, with a mockingly offended expression on his face. you could hear a small scoff escape him, and he wasn’t even bearing the thought about leaving you alone for even half a second — not when you were this easy to irk.

he just had ways to get under your skin, constantly teasing and mocking you for anything you did. if he wasn’t talking to you, he would have that damn signature smirk on his lips.

he chuckled at your attempt to get him to stop teasing you, shaking his head in disbelief “there’s no way you’re getting rid of me that easy, y/n”

five. he cannot be trusted with food

your cupcake was held tightly in your hand, with a smile on your face — this was the cupcake, the one your friend sunoo made. he made sure to send you some whenever he made them, and always made some extra for you.

he sent them to your set this time, and you were ecstatic. they were the best, and you planned on giving one of the four to kazuha, so that she could see how good they really were.

just as you were about to take a bite, you were called to film a scene. you reluctantly put the cupcake back in the box, to see riki walking up to you. “what’s in the box?”

“just something a friend sent me. will you take care of it until im back? i need to go film a scene.” you said, immediately regretting it. how did you even let yourself say that? you knew how much he loved sweet things, and especially how much he loved stealing them when they were yours.

he nodded, a small smirk playing on the corners of his lips “i won’t let you down, chief”

“promise you won’t eat them?” you ask, knowing you were just digging your own grave by now. but you already got in when you asked him to look after them, so it wouldn’t hurt to go even deeper, right?

“I won’t let a single soul touch them” he chuckled with a mock salute, and you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched slightly into a small smile.

turns out he did let a soul touch them; him. a cold, heartless soul. okay, maybe that was a bit too dramatic, even for you — an actress.

when you came back, there were only two cupcakes left in the box that once had four, and riki was nowhere to be seen.

you let out a groan of frustration, annoyed that he stooped low enough to steal your food, even when he said he wouldn’t.

the urges to throw one of those two remaining cupcakes at his face was tempting, but not as tempting as the proposition of murdering him at filming later . he was done for.

over the next few days, you could say you were maybe starting to become somewhat friends with riki. he still was annoying, but you learnt to deal with it. it was a weird sort of relationship; a love-hate sort of one.

one second you’d be laughing at something he said and the next; chasing him through the room.

the two of you were filming a scene — one where you were supposed to have a deep sort of conversation; one that was sweet, and loving, full of words of affection.

both of your acting skills were good, so you were able to execute the scene well. even though what your relationship with him was was nowhere near affectionate, you still had to act it for the movie.

as you took a thirty minute break after getting the scene right, he was mocking and teasing you about the way you said your lines. ‘I’ll miss you so much’ he mocks your tone, making it high in pitch, and putting a fake pouty expression on his face.

that was your breaking point.

the whole day, he had been irritating you over and over, testing your patience every second of the day. the day itself wasn’t the best for you: you got your period, and your cramps were killing you from the inside.

all of his teasing added onto the constant stabbing feeling in your abdomen lead to you finally snapping, voice annoyed and slightly aggravated.

“can you stop it? you’re being so annoying… do you not have any filter over what you say when?” you scoff, getting up from the seat you were sitting in he watched as you walked away to your trailer, feeling bad for what he did to you. but he shoved the feeling away; he couldn’t be feeling sorry for you, not when he was supposed to hate you…

𓆩 ★ 𓆪

“I swear to god, zuha, he doesn’t know when to shut his goddamn mouth! always mocking and teasing me like he has nothing better to do. i don’t even think he knows how annoying he is or that anyone even likes him for that stupid personality he has.” you ranted to kazuha, feeling your emotions take over you.

you didn’t even realise how mean and terrible you sounded as you said it, until you heard a slightly soft and hurt voice come from behind you.

”y/n, i- i didn’t know you thought of me like that…” riki mumbled, and for a second, you could feel your heart stop beating; what were you even saying and why did you let yourself say that?

you turned around, horrified. you looked into his eyes, guilty and ashamed, when you saw something flicker through his eyes. something that resembled… hurt?

“riki- look, I-” you stuttered out, trying to patch up the situation, but it was too late. the words had been said, and there was no way you could take them back.

he walked away without another word, leaving you stuck between wallowing in your own remorse and feeling that you shouldn’t care this much.

your mind was fighting with itself, and you felt the world start to drown out around you.

you brushed it off, making yourself believe that you did nothing wrong and he should be tougher than getting hurt over the truth.

you did feel guilty. but you shook away the feeling as fast as it came to you, refusing to let yourself feel any remorse towards him.

the cool winter air blew onto riki’s face as he sat down on a bench at the park filming was going on that day. he watched the snow flurry down gently from the sky and land on his exposed hand, the small, icy cluster of frozen water slowly melting from his body heat.

the sun shone lightly through the slightly greyish clouds shrouding over the sky in a serene kind of gloom. not the kind where you got unsettled or got tired of — it was the kind where you felt calm; almost pacific even.

it was a funny connection; riki and tranquility. it was a stark contrast to his usually playful and humorous personality, but sometimes — contrary to popular opinion — even he felt the need to be in a peaceful environment, one that calm and quiet enough to give his mind some rest.

he realised how amazing it was that the earth created snow from salty seawater, and how it was such a beautiful phenomenon. the amount of processes it took; evaporation, condensation, temperature control, all of it.

he was so lost in thought, that he didn’t notice someone sitting down next to him on the cold metal bench. after a few moments of silence, he looked at you, eyes widened slightly at your sudden appearance next to him.

“god, you almost gave me a heart attack” he said, putting a hand on his chest as he let out a sigh. you muttered a quick ‘sorry’ before a silence enveloped the two of you.

it was an awkward quiet, one that you could practically cut with a knife because of the palpable tension. you cleared your throat after a few minutes, unable to bear the silence anymore.

“so… do you have any scenes to film today?” you ask, thankful for the topic being the first one to come to your mind. he shakes his head, looking at the sky into the distance.

“oh.. i have one” you say, earning a simple nod from him. he was awfully silent, and you couldn’t help but worry that your words about him the day before had affected him in a way you didn’t want them to.

“hey, uh…” you start, not daring to make eye contact with him. “im sorry. for what i said about you yesterday. it was stupid to say, and i really want you to know that’s not how i really feel about you.”

“it hurt, you know? someone you thought was your friend talking about you behind your back.” he said after a moment, the hurt and vulnerability he felt about your hurtful words showing in his eyes and tone.

“im sorry, I really am…” you said, putting a hand on his shoulder. it was a sort of comfort to him — at least from what you could see — because he ever so slightly leaned into your touch.

he sighed, still feeling a bit hurt. but a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. but you noticed, a smile of your own coming out.

you kept looking at each other, the chaotic world around you two blurring out for a while. it was just you and him; him and you.

it was only when the sound of your ringtone blared through the quiet surroundings, leading both you and him to jump slightly at the sudden sound.

you looked away, slightly embarrassed at the eye-contact moment you had with riki, but shoved the emotion away as quickly as it came to you.

you looked down at the called ID on the phone, to see your sister chaewon’s name on it. she just had to call at this moment didn’t she?

six. he made you laugh way too much

as you sat down, waiting for kazuha to show up to start filming your scene, riki was making you laugh like crazy. crazy enough that the costume designers were giving you looks from the corner of their eyes.

your face was hidden in your hands, your body shaking slightly as you doubled up in laughter, the sound melodious and sweet to him.

if he said he didn’t like your smile or your laugh, he’d grow a nose longer than a broomstick if he were cursed like pinocchio. his gaze slipped from your hair to your eyes, sparkling with happiness.

“so she actually went and told the teacher that two people were making out in the classroom and it turned out to be two girls hugging?” you chortled, a grin on your face.

there was that smile he loved so much. it was his new favourite thing; it made him smile too, no matter the circumstances. “yeah, that was what happened” he chuckled

“you sure had some… interesting high school classmates” you said, smile still gracing your lips

seven. he stares

the day was still young, from it being very early un the morning. you rubbed your hands together to create some friction for the cold as you read and practiced your script in your head.

a few minutes in, you felt a pair of eyes on you, and no surprise who it was — riki. he had developed a habit of looking at you, ever since the first time you met him. but recently, he started doing it more often, and you hated the way it made your heart flutter in your chest.

you weren’t supposed to feel that flutter in your chest, and you weren’t supposed to smile when he smiled. you weren’t supposed to want to go near him when he was around. yet, you felt all that. and your mind was all jumbled up about it.

you didn’t want to look back at him when you felt his eyes on you, but you did. you hated the way your breath hitched as your eyes met, and you hated the way your heart skipped a beat.

you looked away after a few seconds after, unable to hold the eye contact for much longer without getting more flustered than you already were.

that was when you realised it; you had a crush on nishimura riki.

“man, I need help” riki sighed as he sat down next to jay on the couch he was sitting on. the latter raised an eyebrow at riki, confused, and as if asking him to go on.

“i think I like her.” he says, earning a confused hum from the older boy.

“what? who’s her?”

“y/n. i think i like y/n.” riki says after a few seconds of silence.

jay’s confusion immediately wore off, turning into a knowing smirk. he nudged riki in the arm playfully, chuckling as he did. “man, my fake little bro’s got a little crush, hm?” he teases.

riki’s face turned bright red as the question, making him turn his face face away. “stop it!” he huffed, blushing like mad.

jay payed no heed to the boy’s words, already forming a plan in his head to get you and riki together.

eight. he’s absolutely insane

the filming of the movie was coming to an end, but there was still much left to do. like the kissing scene, for example.

but going to the reason for this point; while you were filming a scene and on a small break, you were playing temple run on each of your phones — comparing scores after starting at the same time.

he was actually so close to breaking his phone, because when he got died halfway while you kept playing, he threw his phone onto the ground in frustration.

your eyes widened as you saw him do it, before you looked at back him and then the phone. you stared at each other for a moment before busting out in laughter, clutching your stomachs as you tried to stop.

you had told kazuha about your feelings for riki, and thus; jay and kazuha decided to team up on their plans to get both of you to confess.

both of them watched you and him with knowing looks, exchanging glances with small smirks ghosting their lips.

nine. he gave you butterflies

it was a gloomy morning, but it felt like the sun shone down on you all because you looked at riki. his hair was down, his bangs coming to hang in front of his eyes; his eyes shimmering in the soft light.

he looked up at you, smiling. “morning y/n” you felt a flutter in your stomach, your brain stopping all function at his smile. he was so energetic and happy today, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him, feeling the butterflies in your stomach increase like mad.

𓆩 ★ 𓆪

kazuha and jay had a plan, and a solid one at that. it was the classic ‘make plans and make sure only both of them show up’ kind of trick, and they knew for sure it would work.

jay texted on the group chat if the four of you could meet up at that café near the set; one where a lot of couples went for dates, but you didn’t need to know that.

you agreed, needing a break to unwind and get your mind off working on the movie (and kissing riki for a scene, but you couldn’t say anything about that). riki agreed as well, happy he would get to be with you even more.

so, the next day, when the two of you showed up to the café and waited for jay and kazuha to show, you realised you had been tricked into it.

ten. he stole your heart

turns out their plan failed. nothing happened on the “date” except for both of you being extremely flustered every single second.

so, they decided to let nature take its course and works it’s way through this; by using the kissing scene you two had to film as an advantage, of course.

your heart raced as you got ready to start filming the scene, and as you leaned closer to him, you could feel a voice at the back of your head telling you to pull away, not let your feelings get in the way. but you pushed the voice away as your lips locked with his, moving against each other in a sweet harmony. you tilted your heads, deepening the kiss before you pulled away, slightly breathless from all the emotions coursing through your veins.

you let out a shaky breath, a smile breaking out on your face as you saw him smile.

“you have no idea how much ive wanted to do that in the past two months” he muttered, longing and affection laced into his voice.

when he heard your silence, he got worried and started to think of worst case scenarios. “I-im sorry, I just messed up our entire friendship-”

you cut him off with another kiss on his lips — this one shorter than the first — earning a confused look from the director. this wasnt part of the script, but it felt so right.

turns out you did have many reasons to hate him. but your reasons not to were just that much more…

thank you for reading !! likes + reblogs are appreciated ^^

mickie’s p.s. — can you see where i sorta gave up?

[idleoblivion]

"Hey Man I Love You, But No Fucking Way" Jamil Viper x GN Reader

Synopsis: The time has finally come for you to leave, but he isn't ready to lose you. Surely you'll hear him out, right?

Word count: ~900

A/N: I usually prefer fluff but thought I'd experiment with a little angst, though I don't think it's too intense. Never written any kind of yandere stuff before so sorry if it's tame.

Warnings: angst, yandere Jamil

This day was bound to come. He knew it, you knew it, everyone did. That didn’t make it any easier for him, though. 

He knew you had started bugging Crowley harder about going home after the second overblot. And harder again after the third, then his, and so on. He wanted to meddle, but Kalim kept him busy. Plus, his faith in Crowley was so low he thought he’d have more time. Time to win you over, time to convince you that your place was with him. And he had made progress, you two had become very close despite what went down in Scarabia over the holiday. But the time for you to go had come regardless. 

He knew you had people you missed and places you still wanted to see. He knew that at the end of the day, no matter how much he’d grown to like your presence, you were not meant to be in Twisted Wonderland. 

But he still held onto that naive hope he had that you would hear him out tonight. Perhaps too tightly.

“You know how much you mean to me, don’t you?”

“I do.” You answer almost emotionlessly.

“Then… then please-” “Don’t ask me what you’re about to ask me. Don’t do that.”

He should’ve stopped there, but he couldn’t. If there was any chance of you staying with him, he had to fight for it. So he kept going.

“Please… you don’t know what my life was like before you. Please don’t leave me like this.”

You don’t say anything back. He could already feel himself unraveling, but tried to hold it together the best he could. 

“You’re the only person I can be myself around. You’re the only person who I can show what I’m actually capable of, the only-” “Jamil, you need to stop this. Now.”

“I love you.” He admits with desperation. “I love you, please, you can’t leave me like this. I’ll never…” he trails off, holding back tears.

“I love you too, Jamil…” You sigh deeply.

“Just not enough to stay?” He snaps without thinking. The look on your face immediately tells him that was the wrong thing to say. “How fucking dare you? You think you’re the only person I’m allowed to care about? I have people that I miss, Jamil. That I’ve been missing. I had a life before this school, sorry that hurts your feelings so badly.” He hadn’t expected you to get so angry with him. 

“I didn’t mean-” “I had a life. A life without magic and overblots. Where I didn’t spend every waking moment waiting for something else bad to happen. Where people didn’t want to fight me just for existing, and I wasn’t almost constantly in some kind of trouble or danger.” You’re crying now too, and you turn your back to him as you continue. “I can’t do it. I can’t stay. There’s nothing good for me here.” “What…what can I do? There’s has to be something I can do-” “No, there isn’t. I’m leaving tomorrow and that’s that. Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

“I…I told you, I love you!” “And I told you I love you, but I can’t do this for you!” You wipe your face as you turn to face him again. “You think I’m happy about leaving you? Of course I’m not! But I’m not going to suffer here for your sake. I have to do this, for me. Why can’t you understand that?!”

And in that moment, he finally did understand. You didn’t want to hurt him. You weren’t trying to, you just needed to look out for yourself. He couldn’t blame you for that. You said you loved him, and he believed you. He watches you sniffle in front of him and put your face in your hands. He feels remorse for how this world has treated you, and guilt for not getting what you really meant at first. Yes, he understands perfectly. 

It was the rest of the world that was the problem. You could be happy in Twisted Wonderland, you just didn’t know it. With Crowley and overblots and other stress always wearing you down, of course you didn’t think you could stay. If you were constantly hurting, how could he expect you to?

But, why hadn’t you just said that from the start? If you knew how much you meant to him, didn’t you also know just how far he’d go for you? The mountains he would make move? The people he’d dispose of? Wouldn’t you do the same for him?

Of course, you would never have to do the same for him. He would do everything, take care of everything. Nothing would keep you two from each other. All you had to do was be with him and be happy. He could make that happen, he was sure of it.

He decides that those kinds of plans don’t matter right now, though. What matters most is that you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life, and he isn’t going to let you.

“Look at me.” “Jamil, I’m done with this. I-”

“I get that, okay? Just…please, look at me one more time.” He was pleading, and his voice sounded so terribly dejected. You sigh again. You lift your head up from your hands and meet his eyes.

“I told you, I’m sorry. I really am. I-” “Snake Whisper. Follow me. You’re not going through that mirror.”

[rebee-sweetie]

*Slight smut and some fluff*

Bakugo can be such an ass. During the times he does his patrols and hero work he is honest to God, a jackass. Constantly yelling at pedestrians and his friends working along side him. His pride becoming of him. Even though he’s aged and matured in his adult years, not much changed in his mannerisms. Bakugo’s a top Pro Hero but still doesn’t realize kindness isn’t a weakness. But when you are doing hero work with him or doing a patrol he is so much worse. The yelling and degrading is constant. Even though the public knows you’re both in a relationship, it sure as hell doesn’t look like it. In the public eye he’s constantly telling you to,

“Keep up!”

“Ur’ such an damn idiot!”

“Fuck you!”

“DIE!”

The list could continue on. But today you had stepped a little too close to Katsuki and it just set him off. It was like you could see a nuclear bomb go off in this man’s eyes. A large, gloved hand palmed your face and pushed you away. His face seething and eyes burning a dark crimson. Bakugo’s eyebrows were knitted together and his glare was sharp as daggers. You felt like you could choke on the tension in the air as people around you watched the sight unfold. His thick fingers gripped at your rosy cheeks as he chewed your ear off about not paying attention to where you were walking. The chewing became a lecture on how letting your focus wander is an opportunity for a villain to take advantage. That was until Kiri stepped in and scolded him on talking that way to his significant other. But all you could do was smile. Because you knew something everyone else didn’t.

Your Suki was rough and angry on the outside, but he had a huge soft spot for you. When it was just the two of you, he was incredibly sweet and gentle. A side no one but you were allowed to. There were constantly flowers in your apartment sent from Bakugo. He always knew when they were starting to wilt because a new bouquet of flowers would be at your doorstep. The card would always read:

“Only the finest for my prettiest and only sweetheart.”

He knew your favorite flowers, foods, colors, and even childhood memories. When he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you, your body, everything. He was going to have you. He was going to make you his and his alone. He made it his mission to know everything about you. He constantly spoiled you and when you’d casually mention something was cute or nice, you’d see it appear in your apartment quickly after. He loved cuddling you every chance he got, pulling you on top of his chest when laying on his couch. Overtime, he would slowly move you into his home, too prideful to come out and ask you to move in.

So even though you got the same treatment as everyone else in public, you were being treated like a Princess in private. You loved it, and even though he was rough with you when others were watching, there was never a bruise or scratch on you contrary to what some of the media might say. He was an asshole but he wasn’t abusive.

The cuddles were sweet but the kisses from him were even sweeter. His lips and skin like honey to you. He worshiped your body away from the prying eyes of the public. He knew each and every curve like the back of his hand. Sex with Katsuki wasn’t just hot but out of this world. He wasn’t lying about being naturally gifted at everything. His body always seemed to move so perfectly in line with yours and he knew your body in ways even you didn’t. When he was finished with you, you’d see stars. Sometimes he’d get you so good you’d wonder if you had seen God. You became a drug to him that he simply couldn’t get enough of. But in public, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He would rather die than show the world he could be soft. His whole personality was jagged like the callouses and scars that littered his body. You thought that maybe the reason he acted this way is because he was terrified of the idea of having vulnerabilities to the creatures that lured in the dark, waiting, praying for his downfall.

All you knew is that you loved the way he was, and you wanted nothing to change. You were extremely content being loved so passionately in the darkness. Because at the end of the day, that was your man and you were his woman. You even had the markings on your body to prove it.

[nana-mania]

“IN THE WAKE OF STARS” he realized he's at wrong, but at what cost?

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ oneshot

࿐*ೃ feat : michael kaiser

࿐*ೃ fandom : blue lock

࿐*ೃ extra : gn! reader, angst

࿐*ೃ trigger warning : toxic relationship, major angst

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ YOU never imagined that love could feel like this — like standing at the edge of a cliff, heart in your throat, staring into a void of unspoken words and lost time. Yet, here you are, watching him — Michael — the man you’ve loved for two years, the man who made you feel like you weren’t even real anymore.

“You’re always so clingy,” he spits the words like they’re a chore to say. "It’s pathetic."

It wasn’t always like this. You remember the early days, when his smile lit up rooms and his laughter was like music you could dance to. Michael, with his blond hair tousled perfectly, his sharp eyes full of ambition, was intoxicating. He had a fire in him, a drive to be better, to be more than everyone else.

You admired him for that, at first. Maybe you even envied him a little. But the closer you got to him, the more you realized how fragile that confidence was, how much of it was a performance for the world. And as that fragile arrogance grew, so did his cruelty.

Michael would stand in front of the mirror, tracing the blue rose tattoo on his neck, a symbol he claimed was for achieving the impossible. You would stand in the doorway, trying to remind him that he didn’t need to be impossible for you. You just wanted him to be there. To be present.

But he wasn’t. Not for you.

“You should’ve known what you were getting into,” he said once, during one of those long nights where you barely spoke, and when you did, it was only to wound each other. “I’m not like anyone else. I’m going to be the best. And you? You’re just… here.”

Just here. That was all you’d become to him — an afterthought. An accessory to his rise, nothing more. Your heart twisted every time he looked at you like that, like you were nothing. But still, you stayed. You thought if you could just be patient, if you could love him enough, he’d eventually see you again. The way he did in the beginning.

But Michael’s world didn’t have space for anyone else. He was the star of his own life, and everyone else, including you, was just a background actor. And yet, you stayed.

Until the night it all fell apart.

“Are you cheating on me?” His voice was cold, devoid of any warmth or trust. The accusation hit you like a punch to the stomach.

“What?” Your voice cracked, disbelief flooding your chest. “Michael, I would never—”

“Don’t lie to me.” He leaned in, his blue eyes hard, piercing, a storm of jealousy and superiority brewing in their depths. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been talking to Alexis. Do you think I’m stupid?”

Tears stung your eyes. You had only talked to Alexis because he was one of the few people who actually saw you, who noticed how small and invisible you had become in Michael’s shadow.

“I’m not cheating on you, Michael,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But maybe if you paid more attention to me, you wouldn’t feel so threatened by someone who actually listens.”

For a moment, his expression faltered. Just for a second, you saw something human flicker in his eyes — doubt, fear, something close to regret. But then it was gone, replaced by that same arrogance.

“If you can’t be loyal, then leave,” he said, stepping back, his tone dismissive. “I don’t need you.”

That was it. That was the moment you broke.

Something inside you shattered, something that had been holding you together all this time. You weren’t angry anymore; you were just empty. Hollow. His words no longer had the power to hurt you because you had nothing left to feel.

So you left.

You packed your things that night, your hands shaking but your heart numb. Michael didn’t try to stop you. He didn’t say a word. And you didn’t look back.

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself drifting closer to Alexis. He was kind, gentle, and in the quiet moments you spent together, you remembered what it felt like to be seen. To be heard.

Michael noticed. Of course he did.

At first, he didn’t care. Why should he? He was Michael Kaiser, the man who couldn’t be touched by anyone. But then he saw you laughing with Alexis. He saw the way your eyes lit up, the way you smiled — a smile he hadn’t seen in months, if not longer.

And suddenly, it hit him. The loneliness. The emptiness. The realization that the person he had taken for granted, the one who had always been there, was now smiling for someone else.

One evening, he showed up at your door.

"Y/n." His voice was softer than you remembered, quieter. “We need to talk.”

You stared at him, the man who had once been your whole world, standing there like a ghost of the past. You didn’t want to let him in. But some part of you, that old part that still remembered the good times, hesitated.

So you let him in.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, pacing the room like a caged animal. “About us. About… me.”

You stayed silent, arms crossed over your chest. You couldn’t trust your voice, couldn’t trust yourself not to break down if you spoke.

“I was wrong,” he said finally, stopping to look at you. There was something in his eyes now that you hadn’t seen before — vulnerability. “I pushed you away. I got so caught up in trying to be… something, I didn’t see what I was doing to you.”

“Kaiser,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s too late.”

He flinched as though your words had physically hit him. “No. It’s not. We can fix this. I can fix this. I’ll do better, I swear.”

You shook your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “You don’t understand. I loved you, Michael. I gave you everything I had, and it still wasn’t enough for you.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I know, and I’m sorry. I was— I was so focused on surpassing everyone, I didn’t realize I was leaving you behind.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to hold yourself together. “Do you even hear yourself? You still think this is about you. It’s always been about you.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. He stood there, frozen, as the truth settled in.

“You can’t fix this,” you said, your voice breaking. “I’m broken, Kaiser. Because of you.”

He stepped forward, desperate now, his arrogance gone, replaced by something raw and desperate. “Please, Y/n. I’ll change. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

But it was too late. The cracks he had put in you had run too deep. The love you once had for him was gone, buried beneath the weight of his indifference, his cruelty. You had nothing left to give.

“I can’t,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Michael stood there, watching you cry, watching the last remnants of your relationship crumble before his eyes. And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t the star. He was just another person who had lost the one thing that mattered.

You turned away from him, your heart shattered but resolute. This was the end.

And as he walked out of your life, you couldn’t help but wonder if he finally understood what it felt like to be left behind.

࿐*ೃ thanks for reading this short scenario! likes, interaction and reblogs are deeply appreciated ♡

[destinationtrekk]

arcadia

This is only a dream, and you will never hear that laugh again.

1.9k, wesker lives, referenced sex, flashbacks, angst with a happy ending, also kind of ambiguous ending, descriptions of depression

a/n: all my fics are cross posted to my ao3. named after the lana del rey song. also, i have a post-re5 wesker playlist if anyone wants it!!!

-> masterlist

-> arcadia on ao3

This day starts out like every other day since he died. 

You wake up an hour before your alarm, though you think it’s generous to say you woke up if you never really slept. Your bedside clock reads 5:09 am, and you crawl out of bed anyway. You start getting ready for work, carelessly throwing on something vaguely professional looking. You had taken up managing a few of his labs. Not doing any real science of course, you were never as smart as him, but helping with hiring and on-boarding, being the pretty face that introduces young people to the insanity that is - was - his world. 

You think they pity you, his employees and peers, because they ask quietly how you are, what have you been up to, how are you liking the job? You know they just want the gossip on how their dead boss’ widow is surviving without him. You had no clue where his money came from, or his nice house, his expensive cars, your expensive car he bought you. You had just taken everything he gave you with a blush and a smile, with devotion to him that ran deeper than blood. 

You were worried, once you were able to stop crying and pleading for him to come home, how you could possibly manage to handle his assets. You quickly realized he had taken care of it, he had taken care of everything, just like he always had. A lawyer stopped by and handed you a few files, apologized kindly, and left. You only read enough to know that the house was yours, and you had enough money in your bank account to last you the rest of your life, if you were smart with it. 

Now, you look at yourself in the mirror, your eye bags covered perfectly in makeup, and you feel sick. His towel is still hanging behind the door. His cologne is still sitting next to your perfume on the counter. You can’t bear to touch either. 

You drive his black Jaguar to work. You remember when he brought it home, angry after a long day and storming into the house like there wasn’t a sparkling new car in the driveway. You had calmed him down, and kissed him sweetly until he let you drive it to town for dinner. You park the car at the lab and don’t look back. 

Your day drags on but you can’t remember any of it. Everyday feels like this. You smile politely and drink coffee, shake hands and sit in meetings, drink more coffee. After lunch you make two cups of coffee, and you stare at the second cup with too much sugar and no cream until your eyes burn. You give it to an intern and ignore them when they try to thank you. 

Your drive home is stunted by an hour of traffic, so you turn the music up until your head pounds and you aren’t tempted to look in the back seat, where he had fucked you so hard on your anniversary that he scratched lines in the leather with his nails. 

It’s raining when you finally pull into the driveway. You go straight for the shower, scrubbing until your skin is pink and staring at nothing but his half empty shampoo bottle. You go through the motions of cooking dinner, but you feel too sick to eat. It gets portioned away in the fridge, where you know you’ll eventually just give it to someone at work, claiming you’re not hungry. 

You lay on the couch for a few hours, eyes staring unfocused at the TV screen, until you migrate to bed. You do the same under the cold covers, which smell of nothing but laundry detergent now. Your eyes fixed blank on the ceiling. You doze off, just to repeat the day again, and again, and again.

You're splayed across the couch, his broad form crushing you into the cushions. You're both laughing, gasping for air and clutching at each other like teenagers. You don't remember the joke, but you do remember the way his blonde hair glowed like an angel across the table at dinner, lit by candles and the rosy haze of a bottle of wine, domestic in your kitchen. He sits up, straddling your thighs with his own, and looms over you. His eyes glow red in the dim room, and you smile so wide you swear your mouth would be stuck like that. He leans down, whispering sweetly against your neck, hands gliding over your clothes, under them, touching your skin-

This is only a dream, and you will never hear that laugh again.

Before you know it, nearly a year has passed. You had stopped going to the labs a month ago, and soon after the BSAA raided every known location of his research. You don't know who the rat was, but you're happy he's not here to see it. You've done nothing with your time except sit around, cook too much food for one person, and occasionally go running until you make yourself sick.

You're having a... better day than usual. It sets you on edge, thinking that you're on the path to heal and move on. You don't ever want to move on, to forget him, but it's inevitable. You had gone into his closet tonight, taking a sweater much too big for you that had long lost his smell. It was only the second time you had touched his clothes, but you thought you could handle it. Now, laying curled in bed, his sweater nearly swallowing you, you weren't so sure.

He's been gone for a week, and you've taken to sleeping in his shirts. The expensive fabric wraps around you in a poor mimic of his calloused touch, but it smells like him. When he finally comes home, he finds you curled up in bed, face buried in his pillow. Obviously, he has no choice except to drop everything and crawl under the covers, wrapping you tight in his arms. You groan as you come to, immediately smiling as you recognize the vice grip he holds your body in. It makes you laugh, and your joyous sound makes him smile into your neck.

"Nice shirt you have there," he rumbles, breath warm against your cheek. "Where did that come from?"

You giggle and turn in his arms, and you press your lips to his. "Just some guy I met, no one special."

He rolls you onto your back, gaze dark and adoring, and-

You snap awake. The front door alarm was blaring through the speakers downstairs, but it was silent by the time you jumped off the mattress. The alarm could only be turned off with a code, which meant-

You felt panic begin the climb up your throat, and you scrambled for his pistol, still tucked neatly in his bedside table. Your steps were quiet, the gun raised as you searched the house. Nothing was out of the ordinary, until you rounded the corner to the kitchen. You froze immediately, gun falling to your side as your eyes widened in shock.

Albert was hunched over the sink, white-knuckling the counter. His head shot up as the sound of your gasp, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection of the window. The gun clattered to the ground beside you and you nearly fell to your knees. His arms were around you in an instant, holding you up against his chest. A sob escaped you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head and struggling in his grip.

"Quit it, you animal." His voice was the same dark murmur, a deep rumble against your cheek as he held you still. One of his large hands was cupping your head against him, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He buried his nose in your hair, breathing deep while you cried and squirmed against him. "Relax, sweetheart, breathe."

A few moments later his grip has loosened enough for you to pull away, and your heart breaks all over again at the sight of him. His hair is longer than you've ever seen it, hanging limp over his forehead and curling slightly behind his ears. His eyes are a familiar red, but his exhaustion is palpable in the air around you. His hands come up to cup your cheeks, and your expression falls at the texture of his skin. Your head rears back, and you take his hands in yours. He's covered in thick scars, pink and white flesh rigid under your fingers. You look up at him, noticing the same scars climbing his neck and crawling over his cheekbone.You reach a hand up to cup his face, and a devastated sound leaves you when he leans into your palm. "Albert..."

He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, turning to press his lips to your wrist. He doesn't need to say a word, not when you can still read each other perfectly even after a year apart. You can see it in the corners of his mouth, the stiff way he moves his shoulder, the rasp of his voice, like it takes too much effort to open his jaw. This isn't the same Wesker you lost. This is someone else entirely.

All at once, the person you used to be comes back, like you never lost them at all. You take his hand in yours and lead him to the guest bathroom downstairs, flicking the light on and pushing him to sit on the toilet lid. He's slouching and avoiding your gaze, an act so unlike him that it makes you pause. You make him undress to his boxers, and he obeys without question. Confusion and grief and relief are clouding your mind. You reach again for his cheeks, and you can tell he wants to resist but you pull him to face you anyway. Under the fluorescent lights his scars look even worse - no, you won't say worse, you love him - you trace the lines gently up to his cheekbone.

"Do they hurt?" You whisper, turning him to take a closer look.

He doesn't answer for a moment, and then barely tilts his head in a nod.

You apologize, and quickly pull your hands away. He grabs your wrists and holds you still, before correcting himself. "Just sensitive."

You can tell now that he isn't injured - he isn't bleeding at least. You spend a long moment just looking at him, taking in the ways his body has changed, and the ways it hasn't. He looks a little thin, his collar bones prominent, new scars riddling his skin that aren't from burns. However, the burns do continue past his neck. One of his shoulders looks, well, frankly it looks like it had been shredded - the thick burn scars the apparent reason for his stiff and pained movements on his right side. The scars continue down to his ribs, all the way to the v of his right hip, where they fade into smooth, unmarred skin.

The shock on your face must be apparent, because he reaches back for his shirt, and you quickly stop him, your voice breaking. "No, don't- I'm sorry, I just... how are you alive?"

He looks uncomfortable, his jaw clenched tight as he still avoids your eyes. "Honestly, I don't know. It's... a very long story." His voice is still hoarse, and you start to think it's not just from exhaustion.

He finally looks up at you, and his red eyes are wet. You decide then and there that, even if this is a dream, he's the most beautiful you've ever seen him.

"Then why don't you start from the beginning?"

[kuroshitsuji-scenarios]

Commission – Bestseller

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Reader

Words: 4,363

Prompt: Sebastian makes a contract with someone who wants to become the world’s bestselling author. This time, however, he's willing to spice things up a little.

Warnings: None.

[ commission me ]

At first, you wanted to shout: “Go to hell!” but quickly found it quite ironic and eventually sat back down, picked your pen up and pretended to be writing something in the notebook, while the only thing that appeared on the blank pages were curly lines. Honestly, you could hardly recall the last time you met someone who’d be as eager to get on your nerves as the man who was now standing in front of you. The smirk on his lips only proved that the whole conversation you just had went according to his sly plan and in the end he was gratified with your outburst of emotions. Not a very common occurrence, he had to add, and therefore even more pleasant to observe.

“My, my”, he shook his head in a disappointed manner, as if he was scolding a child. “I wasn’t aware that this kind of information will have such an impact on you. Could it be that you’ve grown worried?”

“Worried?” You shot him a deathly glare. “I’m not worried. I’m angry and I’m starting to consider which side you are actually on. What made you think that killing (or whatever happened to that journalist) was such a bright idea?”

The demon smiled, the expression on his face clearly amused as the whole situation seemed to be rather entertaining for him. It’s been a long time since he actually gave his new contractor a little push—not to the right side, of course, but rather to watch you struggle and keep the balance as you always did in the end. It was almost as funny as listening to people beg for their lives, while all of them knew that there was no coming back once he was summoned.

“Sebastian,” you hissed his name through the gritted teeth. “Answer me.”

“Well, I must disagree with you on using the term ‘bright’ regarding this little incident.” He pretended to be lost in thoughts, touching his chin and looking at the wall of your office where all the prizes, photographs taken with famous people of literary business and newspaper articles were framed and hung on display for everyone to see what you were capable of when it came to using an imagination and pen. Or keyboard, as it was nowadays. “I’d rather go for ‘enticing’. ‘Compelling’, perhaps. ‘Thrilling’ even. ‘Enjo—”

“That’s enough.” You interrupted his speech, considering it pointless and a waste of your precious time. “I don’t care why you did that, I want you to stop. You’re perfectly aware that I’ve been giving interview after interview for the last two weeks and I’m going to continue doing that no matter what kind of dirty games you decide to play behind my back.”

“How threatening…”

“Moreover,” You pointed a finger at him. “If you keep doing this, I’ll have the right to consider it as acting against the rules of our contract.”

“There was not a single rule included which could prevent me from adding a little spice to the generally boring outcome of events. I thought you were aware of that. Signing books, doing interviews, all of that blown to make your ego grow until it pops.” Sebastian clicked his fingers to highlight the meaning of his words. “Like a bubble.”

“Hilarious.” You couldn’t frown no more even if you tried. “Now let's get back on topic. I forbid you to interrupt my hard work with your silly, little demon games. You’ll have your reward in the end so right now you’re only wasting your own time, because no matter what you do, I simply won’t give up. It can take the next forty years to complete while you’re stuck here with me, it doesn’t matter. So if you want to finish it quickly, I’d recommend you getting out of my way.”

There was a spark of amusement behind the demon’s eyes as he carefully observed you—as if something in your words struck him in a pleasant way. Undoubtedly, he made a good choice while deciding to answer this new contractor.

“That’s exactly what I meant while speaking about the lack of something enticing,” he admitted before turning on his heel and heading out of the office, his fingers intertwined behind his back and the corners of his lips turned upward in an eerie smile.

Pouring rain hitting the windows reminded you of a thousand fingers patting the glass in an unrhythmical manner. Focusing on a single droplet sliding down to the window frame didn’t help you concentrate, especially not with the pleasant silence now filling your bedroom up nor the fact that the last time you allowed yourself to rest was more than nineteen hours ago. Your body was giving you more significant signs of exhaustion with every passing minute and yet, you didn’t want to waste any of your time. Not when you’ve gotten to the perfect plot twist of your upcoming story—the second volume of the world’s bestseller book sold in millions of copies all around the globe. Although your success was guaranteed, you couldn’t simply sit and do nothing while waiting for applause. 

You jolted when the sudden thud hit the glass right next to the desk where you were sitting. It was loud, like a lost pigeon didn’t notice the window and flew into it at full speed but when you stood up to check whether it was hurt, laying somewhere near, it was impossible to notice any sharp shapes in the downpour. Perhaps it flew away or maybe it was just your brain tricking you into finally going to bed. Whatever it was, eventually it made you close the laptop and rub your tired eyes until you saw the stars behind the eyelids—and when you opened them again, you found out that the shadow in the corner of the bedroom is unusually dark compared to the rest. 

Almost as if there was a tall, slim figure standing there, facing the wall, covered in black robes.

Your initial reaction was paralyzing terror. Blood ran down from your face and in the next moment blew in your heart causing your cheeks to immediately heat. You could only sit there, watching the silhouette with unblinking eyes as your mind wanted to scream, to run, to fight, to—

“Sebastian.” The demon’s name left your lips almost involuntarily, just like shouting ‘help!’ came naturally to the drowning man. “I order you to stop this nonsense immediately.”

At first, nothing happened and for a moment you thought that maybe you weren’t even in your bedroom anymore, that the image in front of you was but a photograph glued to your face while the real you was dead, burning and bleeding and shrieking and—

“My, my…” You blinked at the sound of a familiar voice and the shadow from the corner was gone; surprisingly, you could also breathe freely again. “There’s no fun with you…”

Instead of the terrifying derealization, you were once again safe in your bedroom, everything in its own place. By the door, however, stood Sebastian with the same amused smirk on his handsome face, as if it was the only genuine emotion he was actually capable of showing.

“Fun?” You stood up from the chair, your fingers still slightly trembling after the heavy anxiety attack.

“I was worried that you might get some kind of… writer’s block, as they say,” he stated and nodded matter-of-factly. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you losing your spirit.”

Oh, how much you wanted to rip that happy expression off his face. Or maybe slap him. Or both. In all honesty, you could do it by giving him a simple order and yet, it didn’t feel right. What kind of satisfaction would you get from simply forcing him into your own will instead of actually making him feel a certain way? The leash you got him on was rather long, as the demon was almost free to roam around and do as he pleases, and maybe that was why you found those rare moments of his confusion so precious. 

And so, instead of scolding him or making him apologize, you simply decided to say:

“If you’re getting so bored during our contract, perhaps you’d enjoy it if we played fetch for a while? I have a feeling that it might be just your cup of tea.”

He didn’t say anything and yet, you could feel his disapproving stare burning into your back as you walked to the wardrobe. Surprisingly though, the memory of the silhouette in the dark corner still seemed to linger in your memory, although not as a bad one. Instead, you couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t just what you were looking for to fill the plot in the next chapter of your book.

“I can’t believe it…” you muttered, raising the menu card higher in front of your face to hide it from the not-so-subtle photographer who was waiting for his perfect shot outside the café. So far, you managed to run inside the building without being filmed and you could call it quite a success considering how tense the situation grew since the latest news got released to the public.

“The greatest author of the decade caught in love!” 

“Who is the mysterious man by her side?”

“Can we expect the next volume to be delayed due to the newfound romance?”

The headlines of newspapers and celebrity gossip websites were screaming at you from every angle—so much that you started to wonder if there would be a journalist jumping out of your own fridge to ask a few questions before lunch. Since the rumor about your romance—yours and Sebastian’s—were fairly new, you still didn’t manage to calm the public with some words of truth and a little sneak peek into your personal love life. Not that it was your intention, it was all but a play, of course. Another necessary step taken to avoid getting accused of the disappearance you certainly had nothing to do with.

Which you couldn’t say about the demon sitting right next to you by the table.

“Me neither,” Sebastian clicked his tongue, while still eyeing the menu. “The prices have surely gone up since the last time I’ve been there. Not that it’s an issue with your budget now, is it?”

If you didn’t know better, you might have believed that the kind smile he put on was sincere. Still, with the amount of knowledge you possessed and the time you wasted on trying to clean up after his mischief, you wanted nothing but to make him regret everything he’s ever said or done. He was the one to put you into this situation, after all. Like a single puppy left home alone, Sebastian went first for your new slippers, then the table leg and now he was chewing on your precious sofa—the couch meaning your privacy and relative peace of mind.

“Don’t give me that look.” He placed the menu back on the polished wood. “It wasn’t me who said that we were dating.”

“You forced me to do this! How else could I get a reliable alibi that I didn’t, in fact, murder anyone and especially not my own best friend?”

“I’m certain there was a lot of different ways to prove that.” He waved at the waiter. “Did you pick your order yet?”

“I’m not hungry.” You whispered something about going to the toilet when the waiter approached you two and only came back when he was gone, now your favorite beverage waiting for you at the table and Sebastian slowly sipping his tea.

“Besides,” he continued after you sat back down, moving your chair so your back was facing the window. “This outcome isn’t so bad, as you can see. You’re now even more famous than before.”

“I didn’t want to be some stupid celebrity and have people wonder what kind of bikini I wear and whether I have cellulite or not—I wanted to be known for my hard work. It’s something completely different than being stalked for having a guy like you nearby.”

“A guy like me?” He raised his slim eyebrow. “I doubt that would make it to the first pages.”

“I don’t care. I need to figure it all out and you’re going to help me whether you like it or not.”

“How overbearing.” Sebastian chuckled. “Enlighten me then, how do you plan on making it right?”

That’s where he got you. You still didn’t have any solid plan to retrieve your freedom and intimacy back and with all this chaos happening around you, with the demon constantly scheming against you behind your back, you felt quite overwhelmed. 

“That’s exactly what I thought.” He took a sip of his tea and placed the teacup back on the saucer. “And I suppose I have a perfect solution for this problem.”

“Meaning?” You wondered, hoping that this time you would finally hear some more useful news than another joke or allusion.

Instead of answering, Sebastian gently reached to you and placed his warm hand upon your cheek, caressing your lips with the featherlike touches of his thumb. His gaze was focused on you, slowly trailing from your eyes, through the curve of the nose down the mouth and back up again. He smiled at you but this time there was no insincerity behind it but rather pure fascination. Amazement, even, and one could say that also adoration.

It’s been a long time since Sebastian took a look at your soul, after all. Although he was present in your life almost everyday, it was quite rare for you to open up to him—you weren’t the type to cry your eyes out on his shoulder nor beg him for love. On the contrary. And for some odd reason he found it the most amusing—your soul, your price waiting to be paid hidden from his gaze, except for those tiny moments like this one when he was finally capable of looking you in the eyes and almost tasting your spirit at the tip of his tongue.

The sensation made him shiver with anticipation.

Eventually, Sebastian leaned forward and after not witnessing any kind of resistance from you, placed a soft, sweet kiss upon your lips. His own were still warm from the temperature of the tea he drank, tasting like herbs and honey, and his smell overwhelming your senses when you gave up to this gentle affection and closed your eyes to savor it. For the first time in months your heart started to beat faster but not because of stress or fear but rather excitement—something so trivial, you wouldn’t expect yourself of.

Sebastian kissed you slowly, barely nibbling at your lips and not taking any step further. His fingers left your cheek with an unpleasant coldness and rested at the crook of your neck, slightly pulling you closer but not strong enough to make you feel caged. Involuntarily you leaned toward him also, supported by the elbows on the wooden table and not paying attention to the fact that you have just most likely exposed yourself to all the people passing by the café. If the creepy paparazzi was still there, he had a once in a lifetime opportunity to immortalize the first official kiss of yours with your mysterious company.

And somehow, you thought it was alright. If you wanted your alibi to be solid, you should prove to everyone that Sebastian was, indeed, your husband and the mysterious disappearances had nothing to do with you. 

Repeat a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.

Initially, Sebastian was like some kind of hideous decoration standing in the middle of the living room—painted in vivid colors, with weird, eye-catching shape and not fitting to any particular home decoration style. You could place an elephant there as well and the overall effect it had on the guests would be quite similar. He was an interruption, a sudden chance of weather, an anomaly in your life, the one you called for yourself and although you considered him to be a hassle most of the time, as months passed you found yourself paying less and less attention to the abstract puzzle at the center of the jigsaw. It wasn’t that he was becoming less visible or having less impact on your everyday life—on the contrary, Sebastian’s actions were as ostentatious as always, it was just you who started to tolerate and maybe even like the strange addition to your new life.

Indeed, one could even accuse you of enjoying his company too much, especially when you were sharing a bed, tangled in the bedding and droplets of sweat glistening on your temple. His fingers were delicate and movements calculated to bring you nothing but pleasure when he was caressing and massaging your naked body. In those moments, you found him beautiful. With a warm gaze, perfectly cut lips, strong jaw and slim silhouette he could stand on the same pedestal as countless of Greek sculptures stood. Right now, however, he was not cold as marble but rather soft and attentive, all the previous flirts replaced by what could be described as nothing but endless love and adoration.

Fortunately, you knew better than to trust the perfect mask he chose just for you. It didn’t stop you from indulging into the pleasure, though, for how could you deny yourself a spark of joy when in the end it was supposed to be him to devour your whole existence and turn you into nothing? It would be a shame to not take everything this man, this demon, had to offer.

You were walking down the shore, the view of setting sun rays dancing over the nearby buildings making it seem like the whole world has somehow turned into molten gold. Yellows and oranges painted your surroundings into the real piece of art, something you weren’t sure anyone could ever capture on the canvas with mere brushes. The town you decided to stay in (small and rather unknown, free from the crowds of tourists) had everything you could possibly need for an effective rest and refreshing inspiration—restaurants by the sea, both museums and clubs, promenade near the beach and a whole street of various shops. It was truly something new, the change of scenery making it easier to breathe and prepare for the upcoming premiere of a brand new video game based on your story alone.

You could say a lot of things about Sebastian and how he managed to get on your nerves like nobody else, but you had to admit that there wasn’t a single slip in his plan to make your biggest dream come true. Everything he promised you was truly happening, step by step, one at a time, but eventually you could clearly see the results. As much as you loved it, you couldn’t not notice how it was all leading to the end of your own story also.

“Lost in thoughts?” Sebastian asked, his long fingers intertwined with yours as you slowly passed by the sailboats docked to the pier. “Were you thinking about the grand premiere?”

“I thought I had nothing to worry about in this regard.” You peeked at him from under your sunglasses. “Was I mistaken?”

“No, not in the slightest. I assure you I took care of everything.”

“So it’ll be an indisputable success?” You insisted.

“Are you doubting your own skills all of a sudden?”

For the first time you left him without an answer. Perhaps it was the matter of the different surroundings or maybe it was the setting sun that brought this mood to you, but watching as it slowly drowned in the endless ocean you wondered how it will feel to have your soul sucked out of you. Will it hurt? Will you be scared? Or maybe you won’t notice it at all? Was it up to Sebastian to decide on how he will take it?

Your dreams were coming true, the very thing you craved for such a long period of time was finally yours, kept in your hands and there was no obstacle nor foe that could take that away from you, so why were you getting nostalgic all of a sudden?

“Should I take it as a ‘yes’?” Sebastian’s voice brought you back to reality but he didn’t give you enough time to answer. “My, my, I didn’t take you for an insecure type.”

“You shouldn’t worry your pretty, little head about things you won’t understand. Emotions are not your strong point, if I remember correctly?”

He chuckled but admitted you were right.

The oranges turned into burning red, making it seem as if the horizon was on fire. Behind your back, the sky was slowly fading from all its colors, leaving the thick stripes of pale pink, purple and navy blue at the east. You could spot a few stars shyly appearing there.

“I merely did what you ordered me to,” Sebastian continued and to your surprise, added further:. “I cannot say whether you would be able to achieve it with or without my intervention.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“I’m speaking about the ‘right place and right time’ occurrence. Surely you know that your work is good as it is, don’t you?”

You stopped and looked at him confused, not really understanding where he was going with all this dialogue and unexpected confession. Pulling him slightly by the hand, you forced him to stop also.

“Explain yourself. Or should I get worried about you having a sun stroke?”

The demon tilted his head and you thought that he was going to kiss you again, just to make you forget about all those questions and doubts. Nevertheless, he knew that you were smart and wouldn’t simply be silenced by some sweet nothings.

“What do you think I did to make all your books bestsellers?”

You shrugged. It could be some kind of his hellish magic or personal charm which allowed him to get whatever he wanted wherever he got. Quite difficult to tell for an ordinary human, since he never bragged about his methods and you never cared enough to ask.

“I’m aware that you’re not familiar with my ways of working,” he admitted. “However, influencing a group of people can be rather troublesome, not to mention when the target group is reaching almost the whole world. Simply put, it would cost me a lot of time and energy to force them all into purchasing your precious books, leaving flattering reviews and recommending further and so, I decided to wait instead.”

“For the ‘right place and time’?” you quoted him.

“Exactly.” He gently pulled you after him so you could continue the afternoon stroll in the sunset. “I was waiting and observing the people involved until finally the perfect opportunity struck. That’s when I whispered a word or two to those who were in charge of certain matters, sneaked a copy of your manuscript et voilà! It doesn’t change the fact that the one who created and wrote those stories was you.”

The sounds of small waves swinging in the shore filled your brain with peaceful, rhythmical melody when you were analyzing Sebastian’s words over and over again. You were walking mindlessly by his side now, too lost in thoughts to notice that the circle of light finally hid behind the horizon and left the whole palette of colors above your head. The salty smell of the water was reaching your nose and you could hear people chatting and laughing somewhere in the distance—there was also music playing in one of the gardens of a nearby restaurant.

It was such a peaceful scenery, it completely didn’t match the chaos in your mind.

“Are you…” You cleared your throat, finding it difficult to form your thoughts into sentences. “Are you saying that I could have achieved all of that without your help?”

Sebastian smiled at you with such an adoration that it made your blood run cold.

“And you knew it from the very beginning? From the day we met?” You insisted, feeling as his silence started to fuel the spark of anger inside your heart.

“No, I cannot predict the future. All I did was calculate the turn of events and pick the best moment to strike. If it turned out that your books were a complete failure, then I’d have to intervene in a different way but fortunately, they were not. I suppose I can share this little secret of mine now that you almost reached your final goal.”

Your fingers were suddenly cold against his, the fresh breeze caressing the heated skin on your cheeks when you turned to the side and looked at the endless sea. You wondered if perhaps it was better to not know the truth and die clueless.

The smile which appeared on your lips was rather surprising to Sebastian and maybe it surprised even you. Whatever his intentions were, he wasn’t expecting you to react positively to this kind of news—you could cry and wail, cursing him for using you for his own gain, you could argue with him, accuse him of breaking the rules of the contract or tricking you into believing that you were completely hopeless without him, you could do anything! And yet, you simply smiled and then let out a happy chuckle.

Then, without a warning, you were the one to pull him to the side and head toward the restaurant where you could hear the music playing.

“Are you not going to respond in any way?” Sebastian frowned and you could clearly see that it was the first time in many centuries that someone managed to puzzle him.

You looked at him over your shoulder and pushed the sunglasses up your head to meet his stare. Then you laughed at his confused expression, so different from the everpresent smugness and confidence, and you swore that whatever was going to happen, it was worth living all those years, even if just for witnessing him making this face at how far he still was from understanding human nature.

“Well, what can I say?” You shrugged. “I told you I’m the best writer in the world.”

[ commission me ]

[kikyoupdates]

Heartbreaker ⭑˚💔⭑ 𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑢𝑝

bnha x f!reader

reverse harem, isekai, my hero academia x fem!reader, slowburn

You awaken one day with virtually no memories. The only thing guiding you is some strange system that likes to dictate your every move, and for some reason, it insists that you make certain people fall in love with you. Desperate for answers, you decide to go along with its demands. After all, how hard can it be?

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Compared to Katsuki, Izuku was much easier to get along with.  

He struck you as rather timid, but despite the fact that you’d only just met, something told you that he was a good person. You weren't sure why, but you could just tell. And at the very least, you were off to a good start since you’d helped him out.  

“Are you okay now?” you asked.  

Izuku nodded hastily. “Y-Yeah. It’s no big deal. Kacchan’s always getting angry at me for one reason or another. But I appreciate you cutting in. Most people wouldn’t. Actually, it’s the first time anyone ever has.”  

Kacchan? 

You supposed it was Katsuki’s nickname or something. While you didn’t know the exact nature of their relationship, the hateful glare Katsuki had given you when you’d intervened—plus the way Izuku had basically cowered from him—was enough to tell you that they didn’t get along.  

In that case, how the hell were you supposed to win both of them over? Katsuki had lost his shit when you’d helped Izuku out. The whole thing was giving you a massive headache.  

But again, you remembered that you had no choice. There was no way around it but to follow the system’s orders.  

Anything was better than being tormented for eternity.  

“Anyways, I’m really sorry for bothering you,” Izuku blushed. “You’re probably busy. I didn’t mean to keep you for too long.”  

“I’m not busy,” you insisted. It was technically true. You’d been in the middle of completing your 5-kilometer run as part of your daily task, but otherwise, you had all the time in the world. Besides, one of your targets was right in front of you. You needed to take advantage of this opportunity and get to know him as much as possible.  

And if the system was actually telling the truth... the more people you got to fall in love with you, the more of your memories would return, right?  

That was a hard if, though.  

“Do you want to hang out for a bit?” you blurted. You hoped you weren’t coming across as too forward, but you couldn’t risk him leaving right now. You had no idea when you would meet again.  

Izuku’s face was only getting redder. “H-Hang out? You mean... with me?”  

“Of course. There’s no one else here, is there?”  

For reasons you couldn’t quite explain, he seemed in utter disbelief that you wanted to spend time with him. It didn’t really make sense. He seemed like a perfectly nice person, unlike his hotheaded counterpart.  

Eventually though, Izuku swallowed and nodded his head.  

“If you’re sure you don’t mind, then yes,” he said, smiling shyly. “I would like that.”  

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄:

[𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮.]

[+𝟏𝟎 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬.]

Yes!  

This was going a lot better than you’d expected, and you had Izuku’s kind nature to thank for that. You weren’t sure exactly what happened when you maxed out your love points, but for now, you seemed to be on the right track.  

You grinned. “Okay, well, what do you want to do? I’m not super familiar with the area, if I’m being honest. Is there anywhere we can sit down for a little while and chat?”  

“Ah, there’s a park nearby. Would that be alright?”  

“Sure! Lead the way.”  

You walked side-by-side, and you quickly came to realize that Izuku wasn’t the best at striking up a conversation. His shyness made him more likely to shrink on himself, but despite the silence that settled over the two of you, it wasn’t unpleasant. Even just being next to him had a way of lifting your spirits. 

You caught him stealing glances at you every so often, and his blush had yet to desist.  

[𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲.]

[+𝟏𝟎 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬.]

Now it was your turn to blush. Jeez, these updates were useful as far as knowing how your actions were affecting the people you wanted to get close to, but it was a bit weird being so aware of their thoughts. You felt guilty about it, to a certain degree, even though it was completely out of your control. 

“It’s just over there,” Izuku eventually perked up. “There are benches where we can sit down. How does that sound?”  

“Sounds perfect,” you beamed.  

Izuku returned your smile with one of his own, and he looked more confident doing so this time. You had to admit that he was pretty cute. He had a way of coming across as endearing. It was nice that he was one of the people the system wanted you to win over, because you imagined you would probably grow to love his company.  

Before long, you’d taken a seat on a park bench. Izuku was wary of keeping a bit of distance between the two of you. Most likely not because he didn’t want to be near you, but because he was too embarrassed to get close.  

“So,” you began. “Since we still don’t know each other very well... maybe you could start by telling me what kind of things you’re into?” 

Izuku paused for a few moments, lacing his hands together, then gave you a cautious look. “Um. I-I like heroes. I think they’re super cool.”  

You were officially lost.  

Heroes? What does he mean by that?  

As if predicting your thoughts, the system decided to chime in.  

[“𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢���� 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐬? 𝐂𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬. 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐛. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬.”]

Interesting. You supposed it made sense. There were bound to be people that exploited their powers, but also those that kept them in check.  

Based on Izuku’s expression, he seemed quite eager to get into this topic, even though he was trying to suppress his excitement. He probably idolized heroes, and for good reason. It sounded like they were actively risking their lives to help others. It was an admirable job.

“Heroes are awesome,” you seconded. You obviously meant what you said, despite having no memories to guide you.  

Izuku’s lips split into a grin. “Which hero is your favorite?”  

“Uh.”  

Balls. You were perfectly content to pile onto his enthusiasm, but you didn’t actually know any heroes by name. If you didn’t give him a convincing response though, he would realize you were just talking out your ass.  

Mercifully, the system came to your rescue.  

[“𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝, 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦.”]

“A-All Might is really cool,” you stammered. “He’s just, um... awesome. I like him a lot.” 

It turned out that was the right answer, because Izuku’s grin widened tenfold. 

“I know, right!” he gushed. “He’s the most amazing hero out there! I’ve watched pretty much all the content there is on him, and I’ve got tons of his collectibles too! He really is incredible. The way he saves people with a smile, no matter what. He’s honestly my idol. I want to be just like him when I grow up! And—”  

Izuku stopped mid-sentence, a violent flush spreading across his freckled cheeks.  

“S-Sorry,” he said shamefully, looking away from you. “Sometimes I get a bit too excited when I talk about heroes, especially if it’s All Might. I bored you, didn’t I?”

You smiled encouragingly. “It wasn’t boring at all. I think it’s good to be passionate about things. Heroes do amazing work by keeping people safe, so why wouldn’t you be excited to talk about them?”  

“Oh. I guess that’s true. It’s just that most people can’t be bothered to listen.”  

Izuku’s smile slowly returned, and you heard a familiar ping.  

[𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧.]

[+𝟏𝟎 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬.]

Wow. This is going really well.  

You tried not to feel too guilty. The system aside, you were enjoying your time with him. The things you were saying weren’t shallow or purely motivated by personal interest. You didn’t have any memories, and you were terribly alone and afraid. You would be elated to have a friend to stand by you amidst all of this.  

“If I’m being honest,” Izuku continued, looking a bit more hesitant now, “I really want to become a hero myself. It’s an ambitious goal, though. I know it won’t be easy. I'm worried it might not even be possible, actually.”  

You frowned. “Why is that?”  

“Because, I... I don’t have a Quirk.”  

Once he uttered the words, he looked over at you fearfully, as if he was worried that you might react with complete disgust. Naturally, you had no intention of doing that, and technically speaking, you didn’t have a Quirk either. The system’s powers were apparently completely different from the rest. In that sense, you and Izuku were alike.  

The system had told you that heroes used their Quirks to protect the public, but that didn’t mean that you needed a Quirk in order to save others. The definition of a hero, from what you knew, was someone who was admired for their bravery and self-sacrifice. You didn’t necessarily need outlandish powers to be worthy of that admiration.  

“A person doesn’t need a Quirk to be a hero,” you said, and you fully believed those words. “I think it has more to do with what kind of person you are. How much you care for others and want to help them. If becoming a hero is something you really want, and it means enough to you that you’ll work hard to achieve it, then there’s no reason you can’t be one. That’s my take on it, at least.”

You worried that you’d come across as a bit insensitive. It sounded like most people had Quirks, so Izuku had probably felt like an outsider for a very long time. But you still held true to your words. Your gut was telling you that he had what it took to become a hero. Perhaps it was a bit baseless, but you felt very sure of this fact.  

Izuku had been silent for a while, but out of nowhere, tears welled up in his eyes. 

Shit! 

“Don’t cry!” you spluttered. “I’m sorry, uh... I wasn’t trying to upset you! I shouldn’t have spoken like I knew everything about you when we’ve only just met—” 

“No,” Izuku sniffled, wiping his tears away. “Please don’t apologize. I was just happy. No one’s ever said that to me before. Not even my own mom told me I could become a hero after I found out I was Quirkless. I was just overwhelmed by emotion. I-I've been told I cry a lot, so don’t worry. Your words made me incredibly happy. Thank you so much, [Name].”  

He proceeded to smile through his tears, and it was so genuine that your heart throbbed in your chest.  

[𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.]

[+𝟒𝟎 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬.]

[𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬: 𝟏𝟎𝟎/𝟏𝟎𝟎]

Holy cow! That was a lot of points. And I just maxed them out. Did I do it? There’s no way it was that easy, right?  

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄:  

[𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐮𝐩! 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 “𝐚𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞” 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 “𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝”. 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝.] 

[𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬: 𝟎/𝟐𝟎𝟎]

Ah. That made sense. The system said the end goal was for your targets to fall in love with you, but that obviously couldn’t just happen in the blink of an eye. You would have to gradually develop your relationships and advance bit by bit. It was still a relatively fast progression, though. You imagined this was only the case because Izuku was such a nice person. Getting someone like Katsuki to become your friend would be infinitely more challenging.  

You decided to test that the system’s analysis was actually correct and leaned closer to Izuku, smiling gently.  

“There’s no need to thank me. I just said what I was honestly thinking. Anyways, this might seem a bit forward, but... would you like to be my friend? We could maybe exchange numbers and keep in touch. Only if you want to, of course.”  

Izuku was as red as ever, but nodded eagerly. “Yeah! I’d love that! Um, I-I mean... yes, please,” he chuckled sheepishly.  

It seemed like the system was pretty spot on. You supposed for the most part, you could trust that its status updates were accurate. There was another problem, though.  

You didn’t actually have a phone.  

[“𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭. 𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫.”]

Izuku was waiting patiently with his phone in hand, so you felt pretty silly pulling out a pencil and piece of paper, but for now, it would have to do. 

“My phone broke recently,” you decided on. “I’ll just write down your number and add you once I get a new one.”  

“Okay!”  

Just like that, you’d officially gotten your first phone number since waking up without any memories. You had a friend now. Even though there was next to nothing you knew about yourself, this small fact comforted you a great deal.  

You carefully tucked the paper with Izuku’s number on it back into your wallet, making a mental note to buy a phone as soon as possible.

You and Izuku stayed a while longer to chat. He gushed more about different heroes he liked, and apparently, he was so dedicated about his dream of becoming a hero that he kept various notebooks with detailed notes on hero analysis. He promised to show you the next time you met up, to which you nodded eagerly.  

You were having so much fun that time passed faster than you realized. Ultimately, your stomach grumbling was what brought you back to reality. You hadn’t had a bite to eat in nearly a full day, and you were starting to get lightheaded.  

“I have a few things to finish doing, so I should probably leave now,” you said, even though you honestly would’ve liked to stick around longer.  

Izuku looked a bit dejected too, but he realized this wasn’t the last time the two of you would meet. “Thank you for staying with me,” he smiled. “I had a lot of fun. I-I hope it was fun for you too.”  

“It was! I feel really at ease around you,” you grinned. “I can tell we’re going to be great friends.”  

Izuku blushed again. “T-Thank you for saying that. I feel the same way. Um... make sure to message me once you get your new phone so that I can add you to my contacts, okay?”  

“Of course. You’ll be the very first person I add to my list.”  

He seemed pleased with your response, and you eventually waved each other off. Despite Katsuki getting mad at you earlier, all in all, the day was going really well.  

Now, then. It was time to finish up your run and get some damn food, otherwise you were seriously going to collapse.  

[𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝! 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐲 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰.]

“A pillow, huh?” you sighed. You supposed you shouldn’t have expected much, considering how simple the task was. Oh, well. It was better than nothing. At least you had something to rest your head on while you slept on your futon.  

After finishing your daily task, you gorged yourself on some fast food. You didn’t have the patience to sit down at a restaurant and wait for a full meal, but it did a good job of filling you up. You felt a lot better now. 

You had a lot of errands to attend to, so you would have to hit up the mall soon. You definitely needed new clothes alongside a phone, since you only had the one outfit you’d woken up in. You took a shower and threw your clothes in the washing machine once you got back home, and it was tedious, to say the least. Especially since you were now completely naked apart from the covers of the futon you were curled up in while you waited for your clothes to be ready.  

There wasn’t anything for you to really do in your painfully empty house, so you just laid down and stared up at the ceiling.

[“𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬. 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”]

[𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝟏) 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭.]

You scratched your head. “What’s a skill point?”  

[“𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.”] 

“Why would I need to fight?”  

[“𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞, 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞. 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧. 𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.”]

Once again, you had plenty of questions, but no concrete answers. Oh, well. Becoming stronger wasn’t a bad thing by any means. Especially if there were villains with powerful Quirks looking to cause trouble. There was certainly no harm in being able to protect yourself.  

Based on what the screen displayed, the options you could choose from were strength, agility, and vitality. They all seemed pretty self-explanatory, and you figured you would benefit the most from having a bit more power.  

[𝐀𝐝𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝟏) 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡?]

>>[𝐘𝐄𝐒]

Once you confirmed your selection, a strange light surrounded your body. It was just for an instant, but you felt different somehow. You really did get stronger, even if only a little. 

“Cool,” you said, bringing the covers closer to your chest. “It’s nice to know that I can get stronger over time. Right now though, I just really want some clothes. It isn’t fun just laying around while naked. I’m starting to freeze my butt off. Also... you can see me, can’t you?”

[“𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭. 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬.”] 

“Why are you making me sound like I’m some kind of nudist? Jeez.”  

You let your head rest on the pillow you’d just gotten. It definitely was comfy, you had to give credit where it was due.  

All in all, a lot had happened today, but you were slowly making strides. Now that Izuku was your friend, you weren’t completely alone anymore. And hopefully soon, your memories would return. You wanted to remember.  

Even if you didn’t like what you saw.

[𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞]’𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞:  

>> 

Power: 2/6 D  

Speed: 1/6 E  

Technique: 1/6 E  

Intelligence: 3/6 C  

Cooperativeness: 5/6 A  

Confusion: 100/6 S+  

>>  

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒:  

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 (𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝): 𝟎/𝟐𝟎𝟎 

𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 (𝐚𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞):

(Additional entries in progress...)  

More chapters are available on Quotev, Ao3, and Wattpad!

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💔 main masterlist ♡ oneshot masterlist

[rrenzwrld]

isn’t she lovely?

eren x pregnant! black reader

— the birth of his daughter becomes one of the best days he’s ever lived.

another bs from my notes but i like this concept so i will be adding to it whenever i can

— what to expect, when you’re expecting

Eren spent majority of his life worrying about nobody but himself and what was important to him. For a while, the life of no one else had no meaning if it wasn’t the life himself or the lives of the only two friends he had. That was until he met you. You came into his life all pretty and positive. Not a negative thing about you and he loved that. And that alone made him love everything else about you. Regardless of how you were feeling or what either of you were feeling, you always made sure that no one was upset and you made it your responsibility to have everyone else taken care of before yourself. It was as if you were this magical being sent down to make his life significantly better and he planned to keep you in it.

You were only in his life for two short years until you became pregnant. While Eren freaked out and thought this would ruin both of your lives, you were as happy as you could be. Even though the both of you were fresh into your 20s, your dream of being a mother was strong. From the little age of five playing with small baby dolls, to volunteering to babysit your neighborhood’s children, you were finally at a place in life where you were able to have a child of your own. A real child. A real child with your blood running through their veins and you knew without a doubt that part of them would belong to you.

Eren on the other hand had to figure out a way to tell his parents without disappointing them along with disappointing himself even more than he had.

“My dad is gonna fucking kill me.” He ran his hands through his hair before dragging them back down his face. You rested your head on his shoulder and held onto his arm.

“No he’s not. You’re overreacting.”

“This is a whole baby we’re talking about, Y/n… there’s no way we’ll be able to do this.” His discouragement offended you.

“Well, you can leave,” You started. He turned to you like you said something off the wall.

“What? No, no I’m not leaving so… that’s out of the question.” It made you smile a bit that he wasn’t thinking about leaving you to take care of the baby by yourself. But you had enough spirit to know that you were perfectly capable with or without him.

“We’re not getting rid of her either.” You placed a hand on your belly even though nothing had yet formed to know that you did.

“Her?”

“Yeah, her.” You looked at him and smiled. You kind of hoped your baby would have his eyes… You loved his eyes.

“How do you know it’s a girl?” He raised a brow at you as he took your hand and interlocked his fingers with yours. He was still nervous about having a child at such a young age but if he had anyone else to pick in the world to start his family with, he’d choose you. He’d choose you a thousand times over.

You shrugged. “I just know.”

Turns out, his parents weren’t nearly as angry as he expected them to be. They might have been a little shocked that their youngest son were growing up a lot faster than they expected, but they knew you’d be a wonderful mother and wasn’t at all disappointed that if he were to have a child with anyone, it was with you.

“So you’re not mad?”

“No, your mother and I aren’t mad,” Grisha started.

“Just make sure you take good care of Y/n.” The fact that his mother felt so positively towards you made you happy. There was nothing like a mother’s love, from anywhere, to anywhere, through and through.

“Thank you for your support, Mr. Yaeger.”

After dinner that night, Eren was helping his father with the dishes when more discussion about the pregnancy came up.

“You sure you ready?” Eren didn’t know what to tell his dad now that they were alone to talk about it. “Be honest.”

“No.” Eren put away the dry dishes.

“And why?”

“I’m just, I just don’t think I’m ready to be a dad. And I hate that because I know Y/n will be an amazing mom and I’ll just… suck.”

“You think I knew how to be a dad the day you were born? Hell no. I was terrible. Didn’t even know how to change your diapers until you were six months.” Eren laughed a bit, making him feel better. Making him feel like he wasn’t alone and his fears were validated.

“That does sound pretty bad…”

Grisha scoffed. “And it gets worse… but listen, you’ll be fine.” Grisha dried his hands after the last of the plates to give his full attention to his son. “You’ll learn everything you need to along the way and if you need help, just call us. Alright?”

Eren nodded in understanding. He knew raising a child would be a difficult task but maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. Maybe they’d be better off than expected.

[gothicflowers]

Nikto X GN!Reader

“Blood Sport” - Angst - SFW

Inspired by the song “Blood Sport” by Sleep Token. Would recommend listening before, during or after reading. Thanks for reading!

Warnings: SFW, character death, cussing, toxic relationship, song lyrics in italics.

I want to roll the numbers

I want to feel my stars align again

Even if the earth breaks like burnt skin

And the heavens just won't open up for me

Would you invite me in again?

Won't you pay for your arrogance?

Won't you show me your weakness?

It had been three years since he walked out of your shared home. Left all his clothes, toothbrush and his lucky coin. Three years of wondering why you weren’t enough for him. He was attracted to your caring nature and kind smile. Your small delicate hands fit perfectly into his destructive palms. Making your home as safe and comfortable for him as possible but he’d never let his guard down. Never letting you in. He loved you with his whole heart and soul but couldn’t let you in. But he kept you as prisoner of his love.

Returning from missions barely speaking. The occasional grunt in agreement or disapproval. It takes almost a week for him to start using words. You seen the hell that your father went through with war and knew that Nikto needed time to adjust back to normal. Your patience and kindness always unwavering.

I made loving you a blood sport

I made loving you a blood sport

I made loving you a blood sport

I can't win

His love was a game of tug of war. Just when you thought you had him you were back on your knees crying. He kept getting colder and colder. Shutting you out. The embraces became less frequent. It felt like kissing a stranger. Locking himself in a room only to emerge for meals. You tried everything to bring your love back to you but he wasn’t mentally here anymore. He was out there in the war. So angry at the world he couldn’t see what was in front of him.

I made loving you a blood sport

I made loving you a blood sport

I made loving you a blood sport

I can't win

So let's play

“You think that everything in your little world is perfect don’t you”

“Nikto please-“

“No, I can’t just come home and be a happy man for you. I have done terrible things that you wouldn’t ever come close to me again if you knew.”

“I don’t care what you’ve done, just who you are with me.”

“I’m a fucking monster, I have killed and ruined lives. I have a voice in my fucking head reminding me all day.”

“But we can get through it, therapy is an option. Maybe take some time off. I don’t care if you’re a monster, I love you.”

“I can’t change, I’m too far gone. Don’t you get it?! I’m fucked, you need to just leave me alone. I can’t be saved. Stop trying to fix me!”

“Nikto please just-“

You hoped this was something that he would come home from his drive and you two would make up and tangle in a hot passionate embrace. But he never came back home. He walked out, not looking back.

And somewhere

Somewhere the atoms stopped fusing

I'm still your favourite regret

You're still my weapon of choosing

And out there

Stuck in a quantum pattern

Tangled with what I never said

You say it doesn't matter

You never really moved on from him. His clothes even went from hanging in the closet to a box under your bed. Every date you when on couldn’t compare to the man behind the mask. You can recall when you first met. He stoped in his tracks when he seen you. The closest thing to heaven on earth his damaged heart will ever experience. He tried so hard to be romantic, flowers for every occasion. Jewelry for every holiday. Open doors and his arm looped around yours as you’d walk together. He wanted to be good for you. But he couldn’t get ahead of himself, ahead of the voices that started taking over.

I want to be forgiven

I want to choke up chunks of my own sins

Even if the sky cracks in the morning

And the heavens just won't open up for me

Would you invite me in again?

Let me pay for my arrogance

Won't you show me your weakness?

There was a nock at the door. It was one in the morning. You’re a night owl with little need for sleep. Grabbing your gun you walk up to the door. Slightly shaking knowing there shouldn’t be anyone visiting at this hour.

“Who is it”

“It’s me y/n” a thick Russian voice said. Your heart seemed to skip a beat knowing that raspy voice.

You opened the door slowly not sure if you were ready to see him.

“…Nikto” your frail shaky voice was barely audible. His face has been badly scarred since you last held him. But he was as beautiful as ever.

“Can we talk?” His voice was soft, scared almost. Scared you’d slam the door in his face and be lost forever to him.

“Come in”

Nothing had moved in the house since he left. Your favorite paintings, vintage furniture all stayed the same. It smelled like home still too, thanks to your constant need for a candle to burn.

“I’m surprised to see you, I’m guessing you want your clothes back? I have them under my bed, let me go grab them for-“ your voice was bitter

“That’s not why I’m here”

Just his presence made you weak. He always had this energy that pulled you to him. You didn’t know if what this could even be about. He has been gone for so long that you’re practically strangers.

“Then how can I help you”

“I need to apologize for what I have done”

“Nikto we don’t need to-“

“Please, just listen to me and I will be gone forever if that is what you wish”

“What is there to say? You just up and left three years ago. I waited days and weeks, months even hoping you would just come home to me. I was ready to fight for us, for you. And you just gave up on me.”

“I messed up, I treated you like a commodity when I should have treated you like a god. I didn’t deserve your kindness, your love and patience. And I know that now. After I left I got help for the voices, they’re still with me but they can’t control me anymore. I wanted to get better for you.”

“Nikto…”

“I’d like to try and be the man you deserve if you’ll let me.”

I made loving you a blood sport

I made loving you a blood sport

I made loving you a blood sport

I can't win

He was true to his words. He was a changed man. He opened up to you about what he’s done. He started embracing you the moment he walked through the door. Kisses were sweeter, the nights longer. A promise that soon he will leave the life of killing behind. A promise of a long happy life together.

I made loving you a blood sport

I made loving you a blood sport

I made loving you a blood sport

I can't win

“Good afternoon. I’m a representative of Kortac. Are you Y/N L/N?”

“Yes”

“I’m here to deliver you the news of the passing of Nikto. He passed in battle defending his fellow soldiers. This box contains all of his belongings and his will.”

“No, please no no no” a gasp for the air that had escaped your lips exhaled with a scream.

“I’m very sorry. He wished to be cremated and we have his ashes for you.”

And somewhere (I made loving you a blood sport)

Somewhere the atoms stopped fusing (I made loving you a blood sport)

I'm still your favourite regret (I made loving you a blood sport)

You're still my weapon of choosing (I can't win)

And out there (I made loving you a blood sport)

Stuck in a quantum pattern (I made loving you a blood sport)

Tangled with what I never said (I made loving you a blood sport)

You say it doesn't matter

A urn now sits on top of the fireplace next to the dried flowers that Nikto had gotten you the day before his last deployment. There’s no music playing on the turntable. There’s no candles lit filling the home with a sweet aroma. Just you, a box, a letter and urn filled with the ashes of a man that should be holding you in his arms. The dreams shared about the future were ripped from your heart.

“My love,

If you’re reading this I’m already gone. I’m sorry it ended this way. There will soon be a large sum of money available at your disposal upon my death. It should be enough to last you and your future family a couple generations. All of my properties and assets will now be under your ownership. Sell or keeps whatever your heart desires.

I’m sorry for all the pain I have ever put you through. I’m sorry for all the cold and lonely night in bed while I’m out God knows where. I’m sorry for never kissing you enough, never holding you tight enough. Never having the worlds to express how much I love and appreciate you. My favorite memory will always be watching the sunsets with you. I never told you about how I find your eye color in the smallest of things. Or how your voice is that of angels. You could put my demons to sleep when you sing.

Thank you for always fighting me when I thought I was right. Thank you for the books I said I wouldn’t like, but read every page. Thank you for the warm meals shared over a conversation about our days. Thank you for the nights we tangled in the sheets as one soul. Thank you for the warm hugs on cold December nights. Thank you for the kisses that sealed my promises. Thank you for loving me when I couldn’t love myself. Thank you for showing me a life worth living for. I’m sorry I can’t be there for you from now and until the end of your days. But if god gives me the chance to wait for you at heavens gate, I will wait an entirety just to see your face.

Your love,

Nikto

[emma23]

Notes from the shadows 2:

Santiago Garcia x reader

————————————————————————

Y/N tried to ignore the ring. She stuffed it into her drawer, hoping that by simply pretending it didn’t exist, everything would go back to normal. But it didn’t. It never did with him.

Two days later, she came home from work to find that her front door was slightly ajar. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

“Okay, this is fine,” she whispered to herself, reaching into her bag for some kind of weapon. The only thing she had was a half-empty bottle of hand sanitizer. Really useful, Y/N.

She pushed the door open, tiptoeing inside. Everything looked the same, but something felt…off. The air was different, as if someone had been in her space, moved through her home.

Then, she saw it.

The cabinet door under the sink—where the latch had been broken for months—was now perfectly fixed. She crouched down, inspecting it. There was no doubt: someone had been in her house, and they’d fixed the damn cabinet.

“Are you kidding me right now?” she muttered, standing up.

The phone in her pocket buzzed. She jumped, fumbling with it, and saw a new message from an unknown number.

You’re welcome.

Her mouth dropped open.

“This guy…”

Y/N had had enough. She grabbed her phone, furiously typing a response.

Who do you think you are? Stay out of my house!

Almost instantly, a reply came.

I’m just helping you out. You needed a fix.

She threw her phone onto the couch, pacing back and forth in frustration. This was beyond creepy now. He was in her house—fixing things, leaving notes, slipping rings into her nightstand like it was the most normal thing in the world. And worse? She didn’t even know how to stop him. No one believed her, and Santiago knew that.

She sighed, plopping onto the couch and staring at the ceiling. “How did I end up with a stalker who’s also a handyman?”

Meanwhile, Santiago Garcia was very pleased with himself.

He’d been watching Y/N for months now, and she hadn’t even noticed half the things he’d done for her. Fixing the cabinet was just a small gesture. He’d also patched the hole in her bedroom wall, tightened the screws on her wobbly table, and installed new lightbulbs in her hallway. She was practically living in a luxury apartment now—thanks to him.

But she still hadn’t worn the ring.

Santiago wasn’t a patient man, but he figured Y/N just needed time. After all, relationships were all about trust, right? And he was definitely building trust—whether she realized it or not. He glanced at the small surveillance feed on his laptop, watching her sulk on the couch. She looked so cute when she was angry.

“What’s the point of doing all this if she doesn’t appreciate it?” he muttered to himself, closing the laptop. Maybe she just needs a little more convincing.

Later that night…

Y/N was already on edge as she brushed her teeth, the eerie feeling of being watched still clinging to her like a second skin. It didn’t help that her phone buzzed every few hours with another cryptic message from Santiago. She’d stopped responding at this point, figuring it was better to pretend she didn’t care.

She was about to head to bed when she heard a soft creak coming from the living room. Her heart rate spiked. She grabbed the nearest object—her toothbrush—and slowly made her way toward the sound.

“Hello?” she called out, half hoping no one would answer.

Silence.

But when she stepped into the living room, she froze. The room was empty, except for one glaring detail: there was a brand-new couch sitting where her old, worn-out one used to be.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

“Okay, what the hell?” she whispered.

There was no way Santiago had replaced her couch without her noticing…right?

She stood there, stunned, until her phone buzzed again. She didn’t need to check it to know what the message said. Santiago had officially upgraded from fixing cabinets to replacing furniture, and now she had no idea what to do.

Grabbing her phone, she frantically typed another message.

Did you just replace my couch???

The reply was almost instantaneous.

It looked uncomfortable. You deserve better.

Y/N let out a frustrated groan, dropping the phone onto the new couch. She could already feel her sanity slipping away. She sank into the cushions, begrudgingly admitting that the couch was, in fact, ridiculously comfortable.

“I swear to God, Santiago, I don’t know whether to call the cops or send you a thank-you note,” she muttered to herself, rubbing her temples.

Just then, her phone buzzed one more time. This time, it wasn’t a message.

It was a picture.

Her blood ran cold as she opened the image, her breath hitching in her throat.

It was a photo of her. Asleep. In her own bed.

The caption?

Sweet dreams, Y/N.

[densi-mber]

We Swear It’s Not Real

A/N: Thanks to @mashmaiden for the scenario! Set at the end of season 7, but AU in that Kensi and Deeks are not already together.

***

“Ok, so I think that should be the last thing until the actual wedding,” Kensi announced, double checking the expansive color-coded list placed in front of her.

“Sweet.” Deeks peered over her shoulder on the way to Kensi’s fridge. “Wait, was there always a dove release on the itinerary?”

“Yep.” Kensi made a face. “Kat says it’s regal.”

“I could debate that, but it would be futile,” Deeks said. He came back from the fridge with a bucket of cut fruit, and offered it to Kensi. “Did I tell you Kip has some extra tickets for next weekend? You want to go?”

“Oh no, we can’t go then. We’ve got Kat’s wine tasting on Saturday,” Kensi reminded him. “Sorry.”

“Right,” Deeks sighed, like it was perfectly reasonable. “I didn’t realize that wine tastings were a part of wedding preparation. And requires the entire wedding party.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s just a Kat thing.” Kensi paused to roll her eyes. “You know how over-the-top she is.”

“Oh, I know. The the whole show ponies thing was kind of a clue.”

Deeks smiled, sending a quick text to Kip.

Pretending to be Kensi’s date to Kat’s wedding had seemed easy enough when she first presented the idea. Given her chronically terrible dating history, she hadn’t felt like explaining the complete absence of a plus-one at any of Kat’s events. Or worse, be set up with every available male by her well-meaning friends.

Deeks wasn’t exactly entangled himself, so after a very small amount of consideration, he’d agreed to be Kensi’s fake date for Kat’s wedding season. He’d even thought it might be fun, and certainly would give him ample reasons to tease Kensi.

What he hadn’t anticipated was just how much time they’d spend together, pretending to be a couple. It was their undercover roles as Melissa and Justin on overdrive. Because as ridiculous as it sounded, Kat, Mindy, Mandy, Tiffany, and Tiffani scrutinized them far more intensely than any Russian spies ever could. If they were holding hands, kissing, and just generally exuding an air of absolute bliss, one of the girls noticed.

The hardest part though, was pretending that he didn’t enjoy it. He enjoyed every kiss, snuggle, dance, or moment when he got hold her hand. It made him feel like he was cheating, even though Kensi encouraged it.

It was an awful kind of torture. One he kept coming back for more over and over again.

***

They ate dinner together, which seemed an increasingly regular occurrence neither of them bothered to question. Tonight, Deeks threw together a stir fry and rice; since he’d started coming over more frequently, Kensi’s kitchen stayed better stocked.

“Thanks for cooking and cleaning,” Kensi said from her position at the table. He’d gladly have cleaned a thousand dishes then deal with sorting through the pile of invitations in front of her. Though he’d probably end up helping out anyway.

“No problem. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, leaning in to kiss Kensi before he headed for the door. It wasn’t until he was halfway down sidewalk that he realized what he’d done.

He’d kissed Kensi. And it wasn’t under any pretense related to the wedding or a case.

He’d kissed Kensi, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

***

Deeks went into work the next morning with serious misgivings. Kensi hadn’t texted him at all since he left her apartment last night. He debated calling her immediately to apologize, but chickened out and ended up pacing for most of the night.

He walked into the bullpen, still uncertain what to do. Kensk was already sitting at her desk when he entered; she looked up briefly, her expression giving nothing away.

“Hey.”

“Hey. You’re in early,” Deeks noticed, testing the waters. She didn’t seem angry at least. Though maybe she was just waiting for the right moment.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been slacking on paperwork with all the wedding stuff. So, I figured I’d knock it out today before Hetty gives me one of her notes,” she explained, eyes tracking her computer screen as she typed.

“Makes sense.”

Setting his bag on his desk, he logged into his own laptop. Silence settles around them as they both quietly worked. A good 20 minutes passed, and Deeks realized he would need to broach the topic since Kensi clearly wasn’t.

“Hey, um, I’m sorry about what happened last night,” he started, and Kensi frowned. “You know, the uh, the kiss. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Oh.” Kensi shrugged, focusing on the brushing some crumbs off her desk. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Really?” Based on her refusal to look him in the eye, he sincerely doubted that.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s just a habit right? And we’ve kissed so many times by now, that it’s no big deal anymore,” Kensi continued, letting out a nervous chuckle that approached cackle.

“Yeah, no. You’re completely right,” he agreed, and Kensi looked up sharply. “It meant nothing.”

“So no reason to apologize.”

“Exactly.” They stared at each other, neither breaking away until Sam and Callen came in, bantering as usual.

He swore a hint of disappointment flash across Kensi’s face in the second before she turned away again.

***

A/N: In direct contrast to my recent story, Kensi and Deeks apparently have all the time in the world in this fic.

Part 2 to come.

[redwayfarers]

one of those days

Fandom: Wayfarer IF Ship: Cassmel (Cassander x Melchior) Characters: Cassander Inteus (OC), Melchior Larkspur Words: 1084 Rating: Gen Summary: Cassander has a bad mental health day. Fortunately, he doesn't have to face it alone. Read on AO3

The day drags like nobody’s fucking business. It’s real fun having nothing to do with your time, you know - the half open book stares at me in accusation from the table, half done weave shakes its threads in disappointment. I told myself I’d finish it today, but when I woke up I found that my hands just refused to do it and would’ve rather broken the whole thing apart than finish it. The book could’ve easily met the same fate if I didn’t have enough wherewithal to just step back and declare myself useless for the day. 

But cooking needs to be done. It’s not a question of want as much as it is a question of need, after all. We all need to eat. If you don’t eat you starve. And since I don’t particularly like starving, I managed to drag myself to the kitchen and listen to the chop chop of the knife. There are downsides, though, as there usually are. Chop chop is so routine that I could do it blind, so the part of my head that’s not focused on making sure I don’t cut my own fingers off is free to wonder.

And gods do I wonder. I’ve since stopped keeping track of what about, but that’s where I am now.

Theokleia came to mind at some point, unbidden. Maybe after the brief sighting of my face in the window. Maybe after the errant curl of hair fell in my eyes and I had to move it away. She wouldn’t cook, obviously. She has people to cook for her. She has fancy makeup and hairpins and decorative battle knives on her walls. And maybe she’s laughing now, having a grand old time, drinking at a party and whispering in another rich asshole’s ear. 

Maybe Aiantes listens too. Does she keep the hairpin he gifted her decades ago, before my very eyes, when all I got was a stern look to shut the fuck up? Maybe she wears it across the hall, and maybe he smiles when he sees it shining in the magic lights. Maybe he even removes it later in the privacy of their bedroom. 

Maybe I don’t really wanna think about my parents fucking, exactly. Brain, stop being weird.

“You’re murdering that poor eggplant,” Melchior says out of nowhere. “What has it done to you?” 

I turn around and set the knife down. “My parents have sex. In general. In Vestra, too. I know the exact bedroom. Big bed, fancy ass curtains. Roses on the sheets. The mwah mwah sounds. All the good stuff.” 

“Your… parents?” Melchior blinks. “Cassander, you have three siblings. It’s highly likely that they do have sex. Assuming nothing’s taking the place of that poor vegetable.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s a really simple thing, too. And my parents are doing it.” 

“And here it’s where you lose me,” he says slowly. He has two big books of accounts in his hands and he looks so disheveled it makes me want to mess his hair up even more. “What do…” He sighs. “It’s been that kind of day, no?” 

I laugh weakly. “Yeah. My brain's all weird. One thing led to another and here I am, mentally in my parents’ bedroom. Where I wasn’t normally allowed when I was a kid, too, even in non-fucking circumstances.” I look at my feet and wiggle my toes. “I am… I just..” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is kind and gentle and it hits like cold water in a parched throat. He puts the books down and walks over, takes my hand in his and the world feels less loathsome all of a sudden. 

“I don’t want to be angry anymore.” There it is. I’m getting better at figuring these things out. What a strange idea, actually understanding what’s behind all the weirdness in my head on a given day. “Don’t think there’s much to talk about. I just– I don’t want to think about my mother. But she comes unbidden sometimes, she’s a fucking weed of a person like that, and I get all– like this. Gods, I’m so shit at saying things.” 

“I understand you perfectly well, if that has any merit,” he offers. “You’re not half as bad at saying things as you think you are.”

“You don’t count,” I say. It feels as though a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders, though. “You’re just trying to make me feel better by saying that. It doesn’t count.” 

“Is it working, though?” He smiles softly. I bury my head in his shoulder. 

“I hate you so much,” I whisper against the fabric of his shirt. He’s still holding my hand. “But seriously now. Were you.. Did you have any plans for.. This exact moment?” 

“I was just about to get myself a cup of tea,” he says and kisses the side of my head. His hair tickles my ear. “Do you want me to prevent any more vegetable murder?” 

“That’d be great. We gotta eat something and I’m the big bad vegetable murderer, as we both know.” 

“Really scary, yes,” he laughs softly. I don’t reply, but I make no movement whatsoever, soaking up the warmth and the ease of his presence. He seems content to stay like this for the time being, oblivious to the life of a whole company of actors around us, and his free hand rests loosely on my waist. “I’m proud of you, though,” he adds after a while. “You were able to identify what was distressing you and asked for help.” 

Any joke I might’ve had to those words dies on my tongue, heavy and sordid and venomous. He’s just saying things because I’m obviously not doing good for the most part, but a part of me wants to believe him. I want to be worthy of his pride but I’m not sure if I really am. “Didn’t solve shit, Mel,” I say instead, because that’s easier. Because it comes faster and more naturally. Because it shelters from this oppressive feeling that I might not be such a fuck-up after all. “I’m still as angry as I was before. Being able to say my mother’s a bitch doesn’t change shit.”

“It’s better than it was before,” he hums. “But let us cut those vegetables.” His voice turns small and private and easy. “Honestly, between the two of us, being responsible is very boring sometimes.”

And the world really does feel less loathsome for a while. 

[oceanicxeyes]

The little quips and jokes regarding his nature were…anything but insulting. Walter did find them amusing – maybe deep down waiting for Tobias to come up with something new that would make him laugh. To be able to be HIMSELF and not having to pretend to be just another one of those land dwellers was a relief. No more masks. No more pretending to be completely oblivious regarding everything. He still was. There was still much about the world that the siren did not know. The supernatural world that tangled perfectly with what people called normal still had many mysteries to him. And not like he could ask any of his kind for answers. They weren’t even there anymore. They were hiding in the depths. Possibly forever. And the only person he had was also no longer there. And it had been so tiresome and exhausting to keep looking for someone who probably did not want to be found. For all the siren knew – his sister was long dead. A century without contact? What else was he supposed to think?

Blue eyes remained on the waves. On the dark blue water than turned white with the foam scattering across the surface after lashing out against the cliffs. One could even see the tides at work. Pulling them back before pushing them forward. Like the wind that whipped face, hair and clothes – unforgiving and uncaring. Not even the blasted seagull successfully managed to make Walter’s gaze turn from the place he called home. From the place he had missed for so long and that he could no longer return to. Well – technically he could but he would be all alone there. And that was the focal point of his current anguish. More often than not, the siren successfully pushed those dark thoughts from his mind. He was someone who always saw the positive side of things, no matter how dark and dire they would appear to be. But apparently today was not one of those days. He could feel that rock on the pit of his stomach. He could feel his bones aching, his heart racing, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He missed home… and he was completely alone in a world that wasn’t really his own to begin with. And for what? To try to change things? To try to make a difference? Raise awareness? He was a bloody bartender! How could he raise any damn awareness about the ocean life like that?

“You’re LYING.” Most of Tobias’ remarks were ignored, not because Walter didn’t hear them but simply because he had no idea what to say. He had no clue of where to even start and he didn’t want to burden anyone else with a problem that was not theirs to carry. “You say you are fine, but you are not. And it’s ok.” His voice is gentle unlike the wind that howls and whistles around them with even more fury. His words are almost drown by the sound of the crashing waves beneath them. Furious and ravaging. Devoid of mercy or consideration. “Unfortunately, you cannot help me, Tobias.” The siren chuckled – probably trying to pick himself up more than amuse the man next to him. He liked Tobias. He was a no-bullshit type of guy. If he saw something he disliked, he would make sure the world would hear his opinion. Quite the opposite from someone who just wanted things to be good. Positive feedback rather than dragging someone’s confidence down the dirt.

“Like you said – siren problems.” Maybe that’s why the sea was angry. Because one of its children was suffering and alone. Who knew? The sea worked in mysterious ways. “Enough about me. My problems aren’t even problems. Just random thoughts that need to be put in order.” A half-truth. Walter never really found the need to lie. Honesty – or half of it – was the best policy. “You have something in your mind too. You look gloomier than usual and that is saying something. I like your regular gloomy face more. You are cute like that.” Add a little compliment to attempt to make Tobias feel better. “You can talk to me, you know? I won’t judge. We all struggle with stuff sometimes.”

"Guess not," Toby replied dryly. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, fingers curling into fists. The wind cut through his hoodie like a knife, but he enjoyed the bite. Pain was grounding. Real.

He cut a sidelong glance at Walter, taking in the tense set of his shoulders, the furrow between his brows. The siren looked about as comfortable as a fish out of water. Ha. Fish jokes. I'm on a roll today.

"So," Toby drawled, "what's got your tail in a twist? The sea getting to you?" He quirked a brow, curious despite himself. Walter always seemed so unflappable, but something had him rattled.

A seagull's cry pierced the air, drawing Toby's gaze. He watched it wheel overhead, white against the leaden sky. Nosy little bugger. His lips twitched.

As if on cue, the seagull banked sharply and flew off, disappearing into the grey. Toby huffed a laugh. Cheeky bastard. He turned back to Walter, eyebrow raised.

"You gonna tell me what's bothering you, or do I have to start guessing? Fair warning, I'm a terrible guesser. Might start with 'you've got a sea urchin stuck up your arse' and work my way up from there."

He kept his tone light, but there was a note of genuine concern. Bloody hell, I'm going soft. He should just leave well enough alone. It's not like he and Walter were friends. Not really.

Part of him wanted to let the silence stretch, to keep his distance as he always did. Safer that way. Cleaner. No attachments, no complications. And yet...

He kicked at a loose stone, sending it skittering over the edge of the cliff. It vanished into the frothing grey below with barely a splash. Just like that damn feather. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding.

"Look, Walter," he said, turning to face the siren. "I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. Really." The lie slid out smooth as silk, well-practiced. "Just needed some fresh air, clear my head. You know how it is."

"Anyway," he continued breezily, "enough about me. What's got you all broody and mysterious? Don't tell me you're pining for the briny deep." He waggled his eyebrows, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

Toby hummed, rocking back on his heels. "Siren problems, huh? Can't relate." He shrugged, a lazy roll of his shoulders. "Guess that's the price of being a fish out of water."

[midgardianweasley]

hiii i love your fics so much omg! anyway, i have a request that i've been daydreaming about that haha: nat and r get into a really big fight about smth (anything but cheating pls my heart won't be able to take that) and r kind of shuts down, and wanda & carol become super protective of her and follow her everywhere making sure she's ok. (and they're also glaring at nat any chance they get) but then nat comes into r's room one night and apologizes and they make up and snuggle and its soft hours

thank you so much! and of course lovely! here you go<33

Priorities

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has been missing date nights, leaving Y/N embarrassed for the final time. When confronted, an argument unfolds, but can they come back from it?

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: some swearing, some self-neglect

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! <3

“Another drink, miss?” The waiter in a smart, black tux asked you for the second time this evening, a part of you felt that it was out of pity as you sat alone at a table for two, and had been for the last two hours.

You were supposed to be meeting your girlfriend tonight for date night, you got all dressed up, makeup applied and hair styled perfectly, which had taken forever, only to be stood up. You wouldn’t have overly minded if this was a first occurrence, you would’ve brushed it off and rescheduled for another night. Which is what you had done, two missed date nights ago.

This was your third night of sitting alone in a crowded, candlelit restaurant as couples around you glanced over with a sympathetic gaze, which had only made you feel worse. Your girlfriend should be here. ‘Natasha should be here’, you thought. You looked up at the kind waiter, giving him a gentle smile before shaking your head.

“No, thank you. I think I'm calling it a night.” You spoke as you hurried to gather your things and get out of there as soon as possible, trying to hold back tears that you refused to let fall, not in front of all of these strangers. You hated this. You hated feeling so exposed. So vulnerable. You couldn’t help but feel anger bubble inside of you, thoughts of Natasha being the only thing currently plaguing your mind, most along the lines of; ‘What was her excuse this time?’ ‘Who is she with instead?’, but, there was one in particular that you couldn’t help but focus on.

‘She promised.’

You hadn’t realised you were crying until you were in the taxi, catching a glimpse of yourself in the rearview mirror when the driver had adjusted it slightly to see the cars behind you, in the process, you’d also caught her eyebrows raise in concern and it wasn’t long before she started conversation.

“You okay back there?”

You laughed somewhat bitterly, but it wasn’t towards her. “Nothing I can't handle.”

Your response didn’t seem to settle her worry as she turned quickly and shot you a sad smile before returning her eyes to the road.

“Boy troubles?”

“Girl.” You rubbed your face, trying to rid yourself of any tear stains that may be lingering and messing up your once really pretty makeup. Not that it really mattered at this point.

“Ah, been there.” She held up her left hand, showing you the shimmering diamond on her finger. “The wife and I have had our fair share of arguments and fallouts, some of them included a situation like this one.”

“Crying in the backseat of a taxi?”

“Crying in the backseat of a taxi.” She laughed lightly, making you smile for the first time tonight.

“It had always worked out though, we’ve never been stronger.”

“Congratulations.” You looked towards the woman “I hope I could be so lucky.” You mumbled, though still loud enough for her to hear. You were mad at Natasha, more disappointed really, but you still loved her, dangerously so. She could stand you up for another 50 dates, and you’d still be head over heels. Angry, but your love would never falter.

“I’m sure you will be. If there’s one thing I've learned over the years, it’s that things have a way of falling into place eventually.”

Pondering her words, you looked out of the car window and noticed that you were pulling up to Stark Tower. It wasn’t long before the car came to a complete stop, the woman turning round to you and beginning to speak again.

“You’ll be okay. It’s obvious you love her, okay? Speak to her. I’m sure it’ll be alright.” She looked at you with nothing but kindness in her eyes, which you did your best to return with a smile. You reached into your purse, handing her the money owed, plus a tip.

“Thank you for the help.”

“Don’t worry about it, go get her.” She winked as you got out of the car and watched her drive away, quickly taking yourself inside to avoid freezing to death as the cold wind blew harshly. Kicking your heels off, you set off with one task at hand. Talk to Nat.

__________________________

“Hey, have any of you guys seen Nat?” You addressed some members of the team who were hanging out in the Kitchen, fixing themselves a snack or just conversing with one another. The second they looked up and took in their appearance, you could’ve sworn their faces paled and saddened slightly as if they knew what had happened.

“I think I saw her head off to train a while ago, but I'm not sure if she’s still there.” Carol replied, her face morphing into one of seriousness. She knew about the missed dates, having found you one night looking completely defeated in one of your nicest dresses and heels. She, alongside Wanda, who had found you both later that night, had spent their night comforting you and reassuring you that she probably hadn’t meant it. They didn’t know what to do, they’d never seen you look so sad before, no matter how much you told them it was okay, the pang in their chest for their best friend hadn’t ceased.

You nodded, quietly thanking Carol and wandered off in search for your girlfriend.

It didn’t take long, she was still training when you’d walked into the gym, sweat practically pouring off of her. Your heart softened briefly when you saw her, her fiery red hair tied back into a ponytail with loose strands all over the place, wearing a black t-shirt, grey sweatpants and a deadpan face as she attacked the dusty punching bag with such force that you’re surprised it hasn’t flown off of the chains yet.

She hadn’t noticed you had walked in, still giving all of her focus to her punches. Maybe she just hadn’t heard you?

“Hi Nat.”

Nothing.

“Nat”

All you could hear was the furious rattling of chains, still not getting a response from the redhead. With a sigh, you decided to try another approach. You stepped closer to her, still keeping a little distance, and leaned forward to tap her shoulder, instantly grabbing her attention. She flung herself around, arm still in midair, her closed fist almost coming into contact with your face.

You don’t know what you expected when she turned around and finally acknowledged your presence, but you definitely didn’t expect to be met with a scowl.

“Seriously? in the middle of training? I could’ve hit you.” She huffed as she turned back to her previous position.

“Sorry. I just wanted to come in and talk to you.”

“About?”

You paused, expecting her to look at you again, but she didn’t.

With a small sigh, you continued. “you missed date night again. I waited for you, but you were a no show.”

“Right, yeah, date night” she muttered, seeming to be unfocused as her eyebrows furrowed and her head kept darting around the room, looking anywhere but at you. “I’ll make the next one.”

“This is the third one you’ve missed this month.” You said firmly, wanting her to understand that this can’t keep happening, of course cancellations or rearrangements were bound to happen sometimes, but she’s just not showing up and then leaving you in the dark as to knowing why.

“I told you, i’ll make the next one.” She walked over to the bench, picking up her water bottle and taking a swig of water, looking directly at you, you look back at her and she just looks so, unbothered.

“I don’t believe you, Nat. You say you’ll make it up to me and then I sit there again, hoping that you’ll be there this time, but you don’t turn up. And now I come back and you’re just training. Could it not have waited? Was that seriously more important?” You raised your voice now, all the anger and frustration you’d felt earlier coming back up to the surface.

You just wanted an explanation, or something to justify how she was acting, but she gave you nothing, not even an attempt, only adding fuel to the fire.

“Why are you getting so annoyed? You should know better than anyone that this is my job.”

“I just explained that to you! Which is more than what you’re giving me right now.”

“Okay, fine, forgive me for not making everything about you for a minute.” She spat bitterly towards you, her temper starting to go as the discussion became more heated.

“Seriously? That’s how you’re seeing this?” If you weren’t so unbelievably irritated, you would’ve laughed at her response.

“You’re being selfish. So I missed a date or two, you’re blowing this out of proportion once again, it’s infuriating.” Selfish?

You raised both your hands, as if in surrender. It was one thing to ditch you, it was another thing to then insult you for speaking up about it. With a tight lipped smile, oozing with sarcasm, you decided that you’d had enough.

“I don’t need to listen to this.”

She shrugged her shoulders, adjusting the gloves she’d just put on. “Then don’t, i’m busy anyways.”. This time, you did laugh.

“What a fucking surprise.”. And with that, you turned on your heels and walked out, hearing the echo of punches fill the room once again, every one feeling like a punch to the stomach.

Maybe these are things falling into place, just not the place you’d hoped.

________________________

You were still in bed at noon the next day, unable to bring yourself to get up and face the world. You didn’t need to worry about anything in the confinement of your bed, even more so considering it wasn’t the bed you shared with Natasha.

After speaking, well, arguing with her last night, you went straight to your shared bedroom, gathered some clothes and your essentials, and slept in your old room that you used to stay in before the two of you started dating. It felt wrong. You always spent your nights with a warm feeling of love washing over you as your girlfriend pressed kisses all over your face, tangling your limbs together in the process.

It wasn’t the same. You felt cold, a type of cold that no heating or blankets could solve. You lacked a weight on your waist, fingertips stroking the skin that was exposed due to your top riding up slightly. Instead, the only comfort you had was the small bear you’ve kept for the las year. It was one that Natasha had given you after she won it at the funfair on your third date, and you could never bring yourself to part with it, remembering how happy she looked when she handed it to you, and the butterflies you felt just from seeing her look so pleased.

The bear was a little worn and torn now, it had been ripped in a couple of places, now replaced with a little sewn on patch of material that didn’t exactly match the shade of brown, and one of the eyes had started to fall off, but you liked that it was different. The assassin had tried to offer to replace it and buy you a new one, but you’d always refuse, insistent that you would keep that bear with you for the rest of time. Even now, when the two of you weren’t speaking, you still held onto it with a death-tight grip.

A knock on the door snapped you out of your daydream.

“Y/N, open up, It’s me.” A familiar voice shouted through. Carol.

“And me!” Wanda.

You heard some muttering outside of the door, something along the lines of Carol suggesting they break the door down, immediately being told that it was unnecessary by the Sokovian. Feeling pretty against the idea of having a doorway with no door, you called out for them.

“Guys, it’s unlocked.” You were quiet, but it was clear that they had heard you as the faint talking stopped altogether and you heard them walk in and shut the door behind them with a ‘click’.

Wanda was the first to approach you, kneeling down beside the bed so that she was at eye level with you, pulling the bed covers down a little to uncover more than your forehead. Once she could see your eyes and nose, she sent you a warm smile.

“Hi sleepy. It’s noon.”

“I know.” She frowned when she heard you speak, your voice raspy from your crying through the night. She hated seeing you like this, she loved both you and Natasha, and it hurt to see you so sad because of the woman you adored.

“We should go and eat something, it’ll help.”

“‘M not hungry.” You pressed your head further into the pillow, the last thing you wanted to do was eat, your stomach already feeling like it was twisting with every minute that passed.

“C’mon, i’ll make you your favourite.” the blonde winked, leaning against your wardrobe.

“Your special pancakes?”

“With extra whipped cream.” She sang, playfully trying to encourage you to leave the bed. You had to hand it to her, she knew you too well.

WIth a brief look between the two, you rubbed your eyes and threw the covers off dramatically, sighing and ensuring that they knew you didn’t approve of this. They knew you were joking, even if you weren’t, all they cared about was making sure you were okay, knowing that when you felt like this, being left alone allows you to neglect yourself and get really low. They don’t mind if you dislike them for a little while, as long as you are looked after.

“There we go! Well done.” Wanda stroked your back and led you towards the door where Carol held it open for you.

“No breaking it down behind my back.” You shot towards her, slightly amused at the guilty look on her face as she realised you’d heard her quarrel beforehand. Shaking her head, she nudged you out of the door, and the three of you made your way into the kitchen.

_______________________

Carol had stuck to her promise of preparing a sweet treat for you, a stack of fluffy pancakes sat in front of you, topped with whipped cream and two cherries on top. You ate slow, still a little cautious of how stable your stomach felt. You could see your two friends talk with one another, not wanting to stare and make you uncomfortable, but occasionally looking over silently to check in on you.

You were feeling pretty content as you sat at the counter, munching away with the two avengers for company. It was only when you heard a voice that you could recognise anywhere.

“Hi guys.”

Not daring to look up, you ket your eyes focused on the food in front of you, hoping that if you just stay quiet, you’ll be invisible to the human eye.

“Hey Nat.”

“Hi.”

Wanda and Carol replied, wary of any interaction between the pair of you that could unfold into something neither of you wanted or that would lead to any regrets.

You lifted your head slightly, able to see the daggers Carol was throwing at Nat, not impressed with her being in the room. You both had always been quite close, often talking about life before becoming superheroes that protect the planet, in her case, planets. In the process, she’d found herself having a soft spot for you, wanting to protect you from anything that could bring you harm. Which you were grateful for, but her glaring was terrifying sometimes, you were more grateful for the fact that her powers weren’t in her eyes, otherwise you would’ve definitely become single five minutes ago.

You could see Natasha out of the corner of your eye, she was filling up the bottle she used for when she was training, her eyes weren’t on what she was doing, instead, she was trying to subtly look up at you through the hood of her eyes. You subconsciously took the opportunity to really take in her appearance.

Her hair hadn’t been tended to since you last saw her, half of it was hanging out of her ponytail, most of it falling in front of her face. Her eyes looked glassy and bloodshot, like she had been crying recently and you could’ve sworn that was your t-shirt she was wearing. The sight sent a wave of sadness over you, wanting nothing more than to leap over the counter and pull her into your arms and tell her things were fine, that the two of you were fine. But you stayed seated, too nervous to make a move.

You didn’t know it, but she regretted speaking to you last night, instantly realising what she’d done after she came back to her room to find it empty and half of your stuff gone. She knew immediately where you’d gone and would’ve gone through to talk it through with you, but she didn’t think it would help. She wanted you to have your time and space before approaching the situation.

With that, she tightened the lid on her bottle, sent you an apologetic smile and walked out of the room, leaving behind an awkward atmosphere in her absence.

“You alright?” Wanda asked

“Yeah, yeah no I'm okay. I’m feeling a little tired though, I'll catch you guys in a bit, okay?” You stood from your seat, not giving either of the two a chance to stop you as you walked out and back to bed. What a day.

_______________________

Hours had gone by now and you were back wrapped up under your bed covers, still clinging onto your bear. You hadn’t bothered to change, you went straight to bed after walking in the door. You’d managed to get some sleep earlier, not a lot, but it was something.

You tossed and turned, trying to find any way of being comfortable so your body could rest and your mind could shut off, but it was deemed to be impossible. All you could think about was your argument with Nat, and how she looked so upset earlier. The thought alone triggered the waterworks again, this time, you didn’t even attempt to stop them.

Only a couple of minutes had passed before there was yet again, another knock on your door. You rolled your eyes, really not wanting any more visitors, you were grateful for the help, but you really wanted to be alone.

“Guys, I’m fine! It’s late, get some sleep.” You called out, waiting to hear retreating footsteps, but they never came. Huh. That’s weird? You brushed it off quickly, assuming that it must’ve just been too quiet to hear, which you wouldn’t put past you due to all the sniffling you’ve been doing in an attempt to silence your crying.

You were wrong. The person at your door hadn’t walked away. They also weren’t Wanda or Carol. Instead, it was who you least expected to be in your room at god knows what time at night after the events that had unfolded recently.

“Hi.” The redhead whispered, worrying that if she spoke any louder, you’d be able to hear her voice shake with nerves, or the huge lump in her throat that wouldn’t budge.

You froze on the spot when you realised who it was, not entirely sure how you were gonna play this. Realistically, you might as well just see what it is she wants, it couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Hey.”

Her footsteps were practically silent but still felt deafening as she stepped closer to you, cringing slightly at how tense and forced all of this felt. It was her fault, she knew that, she hoped you did too. She didn’t want you blaming yourself for her actions, although she couldn’t say anything if you did, she was the one who had insulted you and planted the thought in your head, and she felt every fibre in her body beg for you to forgive her.

Approaching with caution, she walked up to the top of the bed, kneeling where Wanda had been earlier, but unlike Wanda, she didn’t reach out for you. She didn’t feel she had the right. Not now. She quickly took note of your eyes and how they were drooping and red, just like how hers had been earlier, which is how she could know in an instant that you had just been crying. She felt like a knife had gone through her chest at the sight, knowing that she had done that to you. She’d let you down so much that it had brought you to laying in bed alone and crying.

You mumbled something incoherent, completely muffled by the covers that were blocking your mouth.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you through the cover, could you tell me that again?”

You looked down a little, debating on doing it or just asking her to leave this conversation for another day. ‘But, she was already here, so you may as well get on with it.’ you thought, and with that, you tugged the covers down a little, letting Natasha see your full face now, unable to stop a tiny hint of a smile creeping up on her face. Your nose was runny, your eyes were puffy, and your face was flushed, but that didn’t change the fact that she still believed you to be the most beautiful woman she’d seen.

“Has something h-happened?” You hiccuped, noticing the frown take over her features as she maintained her eye contact with you.

“Yeah. i was a complete idiot.”

“Nat-”

“No, no, please. I want to explain. I need to explain. Please?” She pleaded, not caring how desperate she might’ve looked.

You paused for a minute before sighing gently, nodding at her and giving her a non-verbal go ahead to continue. She took a deep breath, looking away for a second then looking back at you before you could even blink. You could see her hands tremble a little, and while you were upset with her, you couldn’t leave it alone. You reached your hand out from under the cover and held it out to her, offering it for her to hold. She grabbed it without hesitation, squeezing it gently as a single tear fell, gathering the courage to say her next words.

“I have no excuse for what I did. There is nothing I could say that would make my actions plausible or acceptable, I shouldn’t have treated you like that or said what I did, and I understand if you can’t forgive me, or don’t want to. But I needed-, no, I need you to know, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. You deserve better.”

More tears had fallen down her face at this point, her thumb not ceasing in their circular movements on the back of your hand. She didn’t know if this was going to be the last time she felt your hand in hers, so with every circle, she was savouring the moment, no matter how badly she wished it was under different circumstances.

You shuffled a little so you were in a more upright position, hoping that it would make speaking easier. You’d taken in every word, and while you were hurt, extremely hurt, you saw how remorseful she was. Her face showed no sign of humour or like she was lying. You could always tell when she was lying, her eyebrow always twitched a little, which you would always be in stitches about when she tried to say she didn’t eat your last cookie and her eyebrows would be moving like mad. They were as still as stone when she was speaking this time.

“You really hurt me, Nat. I didn’t think I was asking for much, just some time with you, that was all. And you left me every time, for work and with no notice. It was embarrassing.” She nodded in acknowledgement as she listened. “A-and then to come back and witness you being so, so, hostile, with me, I didn’t understand what I'd done.”

She gulped audibly before speaking again. “You hadn’t done a thing. Not a thing. I-I threw myself into work, into training. The last mission, I was sloppy, I wasn’t on my A game, it almost ended up with other people seriously hurt. So I thought-” She took a shaky breath in. “I thought, if I trained harder, It would mean I would be better for the next mission. But I disregarded everything else on the radar, including you, and then I got so mad at myself for it that I ended up taking it out on you instead. You don’t have a selfish bone in your body, and it was out of order for me to ever say so. It was wrong, and I don’t think I can apologise enough.`` She gave you an apologetic smile, tears streaming down her face steadily now.

“You know, when I came home from the restaurant, I had this driver.” You smiled. “Nice woman, she’s got a wife. She was telling me that it wasn’t easy for them. They had their ups and downs, their fights and bitterness. But they always found their way back to each other.” You whispered so softly that if there was any other noise in the room, Natasha wouldn’t have heard a word.

“And, when we argued, I really didn’t think we were going to be able to come back from that. I thought that maybe our time had expired.” You sniffled, your own tears trailing their way down your cheeks. Without thinking, she wiped them away, her palm pressing onto your warm cheek as you nuzzled into it, still finding comfort in her touch.

“I don’t want us to expire, Nat.”

There it was. There was the sentence that turned silent tears into fully body wracking sobs, your hands instinctively going to pull away and cover your face, instead, Natasha brought herself up to sit on the side of your bed, hastily bringing you into her chest and her free hand combing its way through your hair.

She rocked you back and forth, letting you get everything out of your system, no matter how much it hurt to hear.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I’m so sorry, moya lyubov.”

Your sobs soon died down with Nat’s help, sobs turning into faint pants with how tired you were and how much energy it had taken out of you. You looked up at her softly, as she smiled down at you.

“I love you, Natty.” You murmured, the words making the assassin’s heart grow fonder for you, if that was ever possible.

“I love you more.”

“Can you stay with me tonight? I can’t sleep without you.”

“Of course. Anything for you.” She leaned over you, bringing the blankets back up and over you, catching a glimpse of some brown fur among the darkness. She knew exactly what it was. She picked up up with the blankets and handed it to you, happiness overtaking her as she saw your eyes light up at the teddy she won for you.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Detka.” She pressed a kiss to your temple before settling down, holding you tight in her grasp, refusing to let you go for anything or anyone, not that you were complaining, you’d missed this.

Nothing had to be decided tonight, there was no rush for discussion. Sure, there were still things to talk through and work out, but that can wait. All that mattered right now, was that Natasha was there. She was holding you in her arms and you felt every ounce of love and apology she could give you. And that was enough for now.

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