#but that seems kinda easy and not nearly angsty enough

[paintalyx]

it's not that deep but the ground is soft and all that jazz, so i desperately wish to do a loose rewrite of wyll's arc because there are so many little details that could be added to make it hit harder. just. agh. so many gaps. so much potential. angst and headcanon bait practically.

how were the first days of exile for him? who were his childhood friends and where are they now? how much does he truly believe some of the stuff he says, and how much is just for the show? how does he truly feel about his father in arc three and after the game ends (depending on your choices, of course)? what is his relationship with his body like after it's been changed? you can literally go so deep.

my man barely is barely given the opportunity to acknowledge any conflicting emotions that he might have about things from his past without player input, and i get that it's so that your special little tav guy can feel even more special by helping him, but i'd personally prefer to see him struggle without that kind of guidance

[thewulf]

Little One || Aragorn

Summary: Request -I had an Aragorn request that I wanted to send you; if it’s something you’d be interested in writing I know it’ll be perfect (but if it doesn’t strike your fancy I completely understand)!! After reading your fic with the orc attack I was thinking about how Aragorn would respond to reader being injured defending the hobbits... Read Rest Here

A/N: Thank you for the request @fluentmoviequoter !! Had so much fun writing this, hope you enjoy :) Kinda angsty but hella fluffy as always :)

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.1k +

TW: orcs, talks of blood, arrows, getting shot, yelling, angsty

You and Strider had been Rangers together for the better part of fifty years now. The two of you quickly found solace in the other. The two of you just seemed to compliment the other. What he lacked you picked up for him and vice versa. It wasn’t often he could find somebody who just understood him. So, he decided to keep you close but always safe.

He did what he wanted after all. He had a high enough ranking quickly. You were assigned nearly every patrol, raid, quest whatever the hell it was he did it with you. And you learned quicker than you had ever thought even possible with his aid. He wasn’t brutal on you, but he was not easy by any stretch of the imagination. He wanted you alive, so he trained you to stay that way. He had to be a little mean. A little too much sometime. For that was the real world. You couldn’t go out in the world as freely as one once could.

So, when Gandalf proposed the deal of getting the Hobbits from Bree to Rivendell he had agreed on the condition you could come with them. He wasn’t willing to leave you in some random village town in Eriador. No, he would never do that. Gandalf had agreed without a second thought thinking it was a good idea to have two Rangers instead of one.

You had decided fairly quickly that the Nazgûl was on your list of least favorite things in middle-earth you’d had the pleasure of coming across. You could deal with spiders and orcs buts these creatures were eerily different. Ice cold and terrifying, soul sucking. But you needed to remain stoic in the face of it all to help the Hobbits. The poor things were shaking they were so terrified. You’d tried stories of tales far and wide to shake their minds of their troubles, but it seemed no use as they only looked to the two of you in terror around every twist and turn.

When you stopped for the night to camp you’d noticed that Strider had led you deep into a dense forest. You’d never been the best at tracking, so you often led it to him. You really should’ve paid better attention before as you were often so reliant on his talents.

“I am off to gather a few plants for some tea. I will be back in an hour. Y/N, I trust they shall remain safe in your care?” He asked and you nodded without so much as a second thought.

“Of course.” You smiled to him, “Off you go. I know how mean you get without your tea.” That earned a hearty round of laughs from the Hobbit’s as they laid out their bedrolls for the night. It was nice to hear such a pleasant sound instead of hearing the screeching in the distance.

“I will remember that.” He glared at you with humor in his eyes before ducking into the night.

You turned back to the Hobbit’s with a stupid smile on your face not quite realizing how much you were giving way of your likeness towards the man, “Off to bed we go.” You shooed the silly little smirks right off their faces.

They all nodded quickly falling asleep without so much as a second thought. You were mighty jealous at the way they just did that. It took you far too long to fall asleep these days. Worry kept you up more than you liked to admit.

Thank whatever was out there for that worry that wouldn’t let you sleep as you heard the distant voices and branches breaking far off in the distance. Orcs. Had to be, they were so noisy. Your heartrate spiked as you heard them before you spotted them in the dark night. How in the hell had anything found you all the way out here?

“Up! Up!” You whisper shouted before shaking each of the Hobbits awake, “Abandon the camp we must go. Run” You grabbed for your sword and spare bow and arrow before ushering the small Hobbit’s further into the forest.

They ran ahead confused and disoriented having just fallen into a deep sleep but trusting you nonetheless. You knew you had made too much noise but did not quite realize how much the smaller ones were making as they ran.

You paused for a brief moment knowing your longer strides could catch up. You took a look behind you to see how in danger you truly were. The orcs hadn’t spotted your little group quite yet except one with keen eyes. Adrenaline shot through you as you saw the orcs arrow trained right at the back of Frodo’s head as he ran forward. He’d be dead instantly if the orc shot the arrow before you could stop it.

Panic shot through you as you ran ahead beside him pushing him to the ground with more force than you’d truly meant. You’d thought you were in the clear before the searing pain of being shot by an orc arrow throbbed through your shoulder blade sending you to the ground before you could think. Frodo rolled beside you which sprung Merry, Pippin and Sam into action as they pulled the two of you behind the thick trees of the dense forest. Fortunately for you it was mid-summer, and the forest was coated in dense foliage making it that much harder to find you and the Hobbits hiding in the trees.

Frodo looked more confused than upset before he saw the arrow protruding from your body. He’d understood instantly, “You have been hit miss Y/N!” Merry’s concerned voice only rose a few octaves as he saw the large arrow sticking right outside your shoulder. It hurt worse than it looked but you tried your best to bite back the tears as they were so unseasoned to such horrors in the world.

You looked down wincing at the arrow surely coated in poison. Thankfully you were only a few days out from Rivendell. You’d be fine… Strider not so much. Shuddering at the thought of the man who would be so mad you got hurt, you turned to the small Hobbit’s sitting in fear beside you.

Ignoring the arrow sticking out from your shoulder you sat up from the fall you took, “Listen, for there is not much time before they try and find us. Frodo and Sam run. Go find Strider. He will help end this swiftly.” You nodded watching them run quickly off into the forest. You’d sent Frodo off as he needed to be as far from the attacks as possible.

Wincing you turned yourself as best as you could towards Merry and Pippin, “Now, I need you two to be brave. You must snap this arrow as close to the wound as you can. I will fight these orcs off, but I cannot do that with this sticking out.” You huffed eyeing the rather large wooden arrow searing its mark in your shoulder blade.

Merry only gave you wide eyes as Pippin shook his head answering your request, “I cannot do that.”

“Not can I!” Merry agreed.

You looked behind you a little panicked seeing the orcs moving in closer. Far too close for your comfort. Lowering your voice, you leaned closer to them, “It does not matter any longer. Time is of the essence now. You must or we all die.” You glared at the two of them letting them both know quite how serious this was.

“Aye, turn away.” Merry stood with shaking hands grabbing at the arrow earning a hiss from your mouth. Pippin took his hands in his helping him get the leverage he needed to break the thick wood.

“All right.” You turned your head away clutching your hands into the earth trying to ground yourself. You had to fight back everything that was telling you to pass out as the arrow snapped in two under the hands of the much smaller Hobbits. A quiet whimper left your mouth as you tried your hardest to stay conscious. The orcs were close. You had to do something.

“Miss Y/N” Merry sounded concerned as he saw your face pale out and the orcs move closer, “Please be okay.”

You nodded blinking back the wave of nausea taking over your usually so agile self. This did not feel like your standard orc poison. You knew what that felt like and this was not it. This was moving faster than anything you’d been hit by them with, “I am fine mister Pippin.” You breathed trying to blink back the unshed tears. Pain only reminded you that you were alive. With another small groan you stood from the ground trying your hardest to fight the searing fire in your shoulder, “Stay quiet and hidden. It is best to attack them by surprise. Strider will be back soon. Let us try and wait this out as long as possible.” You whispered grabbing your sword from its sheath at your side.

You waited in silence as the first of the few crept into your field of vision. They must have been lost. No way a pack of orcs were this dumb. Or they were on a special mission. But you could wait no longer as they were likely to hear your breath or any sort of movement for he was a mere step away from you now.

Quickly, you sliced off its head without much of a sound. The loudness of the animals in the night covered up for its lifeless body hitting the ground giving you a second to recuperate and fight back the overwhelming feeling of pain now making its way down your arm.

When you killed the second and third the attention was finally on you. You were not able to be as graceful and let out a cry of pain as you had to use your bum arm to defend yourself. Darting behind a tree you narrowly avoided another arrow coming right for your head this time. But you didn’t have time to panic as the man you had been waiting for finally made his grand entrance. Just as you suspected it was over before it really begun. You were a fine Ranger. But Strider was an expert one.

Leaning back on the tree you let out the breath you were holding in. Never had you been so close to losing someone so quickly on a quest. Never had you been so close to being eliminated. You were usually so much better than this. Strider was getting in your head, and you were losing focus. A Ranger losing focus! That was unheard of. But Strider was your exception it seemed.

“You arrogant fool!” Strider yelled right at you as he came storming over to where you were leaning on the tree. He hadn’t seen the broken arrow in your shoulder nor the way you were holding your arm upright. He didn’t notice the sweat the coated your face or the distant gaze in your eyes. He was mad and he wanted to take it out on someone. That someone happened to be you.

You let out a cry in pain as he grabbed for the arm that you were holding gingerly. Even the smallest movement made it feel like your arm was getting ripped right apart. You had forgotten how painful poison was for it had been nearly fifty years since you’d been struck. The bastards made it as fast and as painful as possible. And whatever this stuff was seemed worse than before.

He moved his hand away from your arm after hearing your strangled cry. Pushing you back up against the tree, avoiding your injury, he felt the sticky liquid coating your outer garments. Blood. Of course, he knew what it was. He had only begun to panic as he saw the deliriousness in your gaze. You were hurt and badly at that. He was not used to this.

Frodo jumped in between the two of you, pushing Strider away just slightly, “She saved my life master Strider! Please have no anger towards her.”

His heart raced as he ordered the Hobbits to light a fire nodding at Frodo that he was done lashing out at you. He knew you needed a helping hand. Not one to hurt you while you were down. Gently, he pushed you down to the ground, “Sit down, nigol.” He’d all but ordered as he helped the Hobbit’s start a small fire. He couldn’t see your wound and you weren’t so forthcoming with information. That and he wanted to see it for himself.

A small smile came to your lips remembering the old nickname he’d given you, “Nigol… you have not called me that in quite some time Strider.”

Brushing your comment aside he asked you, “What happened?” As he sat down next to you waiting for the fire to glow so he could inspect your wound.

You turned towards him holding your eyebrows close together trying your best to bite back the pain, “Orcs happened is all. Caught a poisoned arrow to the shoulder.” Letting out a strangled sigh you sat further back against the tree.

“How did you get hit?” He clarified with more patience in his voice than you were used to. Maybe you looked worse than you felt because he never, ever cut you a break. And you appreciated him for that as you were still alive and usually avoidant of such injuries.

“Ugly bastard was aiming right at Frodo’s small little Hobbit head.” You frowned realizing if you hadn’t noticed Frodo would be sure as dead. You caught Strider’s smile at your crass language for he knew he would never grow tired of your fowl tongue. He loved it about you, “Had to push him out of the way and he nicked me instead.”

“I heard that miss Y/N!” Frodo yelled back at the two of you shaking his head at you, “Elves are not the only creatures with good hearing!” You only smiled as you watched them feed the small fire with more twigs and sticks. It surprised you that Strider ordered a fire for you’d just been ambushed. Who knew what else lurked beyond the trees that kept you hidden.

You let out a strangled laugh feeling the effects of the poison inch its way through your system. You watched as Strider looked at you with concern. It wasn’t often you were the one on the receiving end to such a look. You’d been under his wing for a better part of half a century. You’d gotten really excellent at not getting hurt. It must have been jarring to see you fighting the pain back with such a force. He’d never admit how much he had grown to love you. He didn’t like to see you in pain. Not a bit.

He sighed seeing the fleshy wound, “You must not be so careless next. I have trained you better than that.” He sighed inspecting the wound closely, “I must remove the arrow.” He spoke slowly feeling his heart drop at your startled expression.

You shook your head with a vengeance for you did not like that statement “We are but a few days from Rivendell. Surely they will have healers who can do that properly.”

He bit back the frown as he looked at your arm, “You will not have a few days if I do not get this out.” It wasn’t ominous but simply the truth.

“Is it not an Orc arrow?” You looked down knowing what his answer was going to be but trying to ignore it in your head was proving to be a challenge.

He gave you a solemn nod, “Aye, but it does not appear to be orc poison.”

All you could muster was a simple, “Oh.” Not thinking that was a possibility. You’d still concluded it was a different form of Orc poison. What could they possibly be using?

“It appears to be something much darker.” His frown only deepened as he was studying your wound. He had ripped your shirt where you had been hit to examine it closer. It was turning black far too fast to be the standard orc poison they’d become accustomed to.

You shuddered knowing the pain would be intolerable. You already seemed to be teetering on the precipice between the living world and the unconscious world, “Do your worst then.” You spoke quickly turning away and grabbing at a stick on the ground. When you tuned back he was just looking at you with such a sadness you couldn’t help but to ask, “What?”

He shook his head breaking the stare he had on you, “Nothing. Bite the stick. Don’t fight me. You know the rules.”. It had been a long time since you were at the mercy of his hands. You were but a young Ranger the last time you’d been caught in such a dreadful position. Back then you had medicine to at least dull the pain. This was going to be hell you thought as you placed the soggy stick in your mouth. Something to bite into, crucial to keep you from yelling too loud.

But you didn’t need to worry about that issue too much as darkness took over only a moment after he begun to tug on the broken arrow embedded in your shoulder. Of course, you didn’t catch the concern or the panic that overtook him when he saw you collapse into unconsciousness so easily. He didn’t waste a second longer after the arrow was removed from your shoulder to pick you up and carry you in his arms telling the Hobbits that they had to get a move on for your sake. With hushed complaints the group was off to Rivendell in the dead of night.

It must’ve been the pain overtaking the adrenaline that had subsided that made you fade out of unconsciousness. As your body stirred awake the sun rose in the sky before you. Strider only cradled you closer to his chest when he felt you squirming beneath him. A rather large sigh of relief escaped him as he looked down seeing you slowly blink your eyes back into reality.

“Did you enjoy your rest then?” Strider smiled most genuinely down to you for as much as he loved teasing you it sure made him happy to see you awake once more.

You cracked your own smile at his sarcastic words, “It was nice, thank you for inquiring.” You hummed squirming once more in his embrace. When he locked his hands around you it was only then that you realized he was carrying you like so and he had no intention of letting you out of his grasp.

He chucked seeing your startled expression. It was also new to him too and he really did not want to admit just how much he had enjoyed holding you close to him. It put his normally anxious heart at ease. He had long since found you beautiful. He knew he had loved you when he first heard you speak your mind to a superior all those years ago. For nobody, not a single man, had the courage to speak the way you did. And you had the skill to back it up. That was why he panicked seeing your injured silhouette in the forest. For if you were to go down he had no idea what he would do. You were so deeply embedded in his life he could not even begin to fathom a life without you in it.

He ran faster than he ever had before when Sam and Frodo found him foraging for plants. When they came in blabbering that you had been hit by an arrow he began sprinting in autopilot. It drove him mad feeling like it took longer to get to you. He was there in no longer than a minute to kill the ten or so orcs that were hunting you, the one he loved. He was a maniac when it came to protecting you. He hadn’t meant to yell so harshly at you but he was scared. Terrified of the thought of losing you, his person.

He noticed the pink beginning to return to your face and more relief flooded his overstressed system, “You are getting some color back.” He noticed as he held you closer, “That is a good sign. The poison must not be spreading.”

You let out a long yawn feeling the effects of it all starting to come over you once more, “That is good. It does not hurt as bad either. Just aches a bit.” Your eyes drooped as you tried to fight off the sleep that was overcoming you.

“Rest. Go to sleep, nigol.” He smiled down to you with nothing but love in those striking eyes. He’d been carrying you for hours already, what was another few anyway?

“Nigol.” You hummed remembering the times he called you that all the way back when you first had met him. He refused to tell you what it meant and by the time you finally met an elf you’d forgotten the nickname altogether, “What does it mean?” You inquired hoping he would indulge you this time as you were on the verge of unconsciousness.

He laughed, throwing his head back and all. You admired the way his dark hair framed his fair face as he looked back down at you. He was truly so handsome. It wasn’t fair he was placed in front of you like this and yet, was so unattainable, “I did not tell you fifty years ago, why would I tell you now?”

“I thought I would try.” You sighed, “Does it mean something bad? You only use it when I mess up.” You asked him once you concluded the worst. He often used that nickname early on when you two had been partnered up. It’s use seemed to fade as you had gotten more competent. Yet now when you had a bum shoulder rendering you useless he used it once more.

He shook his head quickly, “It is not bad. I can promise you that.” He eased your worried face quickly with his words.

“Well, I suppose I can accept that.” You didn’t want to push feeling oddly unlike yourself in his arms. Usually combative and wanting to pick a friendly fight you felt like doing anything but that. You just wanted to enjoy yourself in his embrace as you knew this moment would likely never occur again.

He knew you better than anybody else. He noticed how shy you were suddenly acting. Was it the nickname? Were you tired? Was the poison moving faster than he could? He looked down seeing you continue to fight sleep. Usually so powerful you looked helpless in his arms. His eyes softened as he realized how much trust you had to have in him to relax into him like so. You were always on guard, always ready. Frodo was alive because of that instinct. But now you were at his will and he felt more responsible for you than he had ever before.

“It’s Sindarin.” He admitted wanting to give you something more as you had given him exactly what he wanted, you.

Feeling your eyes getting heavier you replied with tiredness in your voice, “I had concluded that Strider. You did tell me you were raised by elves, remember?” Lazily, you smiled up to him laughing as best as your body would allow you.

“It is Sindarin for little one.” He finally admitted to you, “Or mouse.” He looked down at you nervously hoping you’d have a decent reaction to it.

“Mouse? Little one? I should be offended.” You grinned not taking offense in the slightest for you found it oddly adorable he had given you such a sweet nickname.

“Do not take offense.” He spoke quickly, “I did not mean it that way.”

“Relax, Strider.” You yawned once more feeling your head rest of his chest heavily. Sleep was coming on quick, “I am just teasing you. You are so easy to mess with.”

“Sleep now, little one.” He gave you another gentle squeeze letting you know he had you. It was alright. You could trust him as always. And trust him you did as you found yourself in a quick sleep right back in his arms.

“There you are.” Strider’s voice pulled you from the sleep that had overcome you on the road. When you blinked you were stunned to be laying in front of a fireplace in a rather grandeur room. You must have made it all the way to Rivendell which meant you had been out for days at this point.

“Are we in Rivendell?” You tried to sit up before his hands pushed you back down, gently, into the plush elven bed.

“You must lie still.” He ordered before answering your question, “Yes. You have been unconscious for nearly four days. Lord Elrond was unsure if you were to make it.” His eyes were laced with something you had hardly seen on the man in your many years of knowing him, fear. He looked scared, terrified. Yet almost relieved seeing you awake.

“Four days?” You swallowed back your surprise.

He gave you a quick not, “Almost, you even have Lord Elrond worried.”

You sighed, “I did not mean to do that.”

He moved closer, sitting on your bedside. Taking his chance he brushed your stray hair away from your face, “You always do that.”

You just looked up at him, “What?”

“It is just that you always care for others before yourself. As much as I love that about you. Think about yourself for once. Care for yourself. You are far too kind.” He spilled his thoughts to you for he was too tired. Too scared at the thought of losing you he was not going to hold back his tongue anymore for he knew he loved you. He wanted you. He couldn’t see you with anyone else but him.

You blinked back surprise at his outright confession. Sure, the two of you had danced around any feelings for quite literally years. But you would have none of that, as sweet as it was, “You did not say that when I slayed half an orc army with you.” You spoke with a hint of playfulness in your tone. It was your favorite game to play with the man.

He laughed a full hearty laugh. A laugh so pure, one you’d heard so rarely from the man. He only laughed like that when he was at peace. Happy. Comfortable and relaxed. A sight that you could really get used to.

“For that is true.” His eyes searched your for any sign of pain. Any sign that something was wrong. He could not quite believe you were finally awake and chatting with him like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t been knocked out cold for that long. When Lord Elrond had started to get nervous. Strider was not dumb. He grew up with Elves and knew their tells. When an elf grew worried he knew things were not boding well.

You felt yourself shrinking under his gaze, “What? Is there something on my face? Because that would be embarrassing. I have been asleep for three days and you let something stay on my face for that long?” You rambled not quite sure what you were doing. He was making you nervous. Strider never made you nervous. But when he gave you that earnest look you completely lost yourself to him. How fickle your brain was behaving.

He bit back a laugh sensing your nerves, “No. There is nothing marking your face. I was simply admiring you was all.”

Was he trying to kill you? Your cheeks were sure to be a bright rosy, red for his second confession was bolder than his first, “Admiring me?”

“Indeed. I would not be the man that I am had you not been by me all these years. I thought I was going to lose you. But now that you are back I get to admire you.” He spoke with that soft voice he only used ever so often. It was fascinating to get to know an entirely different side of the man you thought you knew through and through.

“I deserve no such thing.” You laughed trying to shake off the seriousness of his gaze down on you. He did not find your statement the least bit humorous.

“While I do not agree I also do not wish to argue. How do you feel?” He changed the subject even though he might have enjoyed watching you squirm. Placing a cool hand on your forehead, he did not miss the small jump you had in response to his contact. Touches he had given you so often before had changed. Things had shifted between the two of you and for the first time in a long time he was excited. He had a purpose. His purpose.

You gulped back your argument and nodded in agreement, “I feel fine, will you let me sit up now or must I stare up all afternoon?” You quipped hoping your quick mouth would let him know just how fine you really felt.

Shaking his head, he held out a hand for your to take, “You may sit up, but take it slow.”

“I was shot by an arrow Strider. I did not get my legs cut off.” You took his hand letting him pull you up to sit next to him.

He rolled his eyes yet still held admiration in them, “That mouth will get you in trouble one day.” His eyes traced your face as you too just looked at him. It didn’t feel quite real that he could have admired you just as you him. Had you been blind?

You hummed in agreement not being able to take your eyes off his, “Not if you are there to protect me.”

It was he who broke the staring game going on between the two of you as he collected his thoughts, “Indeed, little one. There is nothing truer than that statement.” Gaining some courage, he took your hands in his giving them a gentle squeeze, “Please never scare me like that again for I cannot bear it.”

“I will try my hardest, as long as you promise to do the same.” You nodded towards him feeling bashful in front of the man you’d grown to love. The man you had only hoped to love you as he did. The man you never could have imagined felt the same. Yet here you were.

Giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, he simply nodded to you, “I promise, little one. I promise with my whole heart.”

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[goldfades]

𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ─ TZ¹¹

TRACK 11 ─── I CAN FIX HIM (NO REALLY I CAN)

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

��ৎ ─ summary | you navigate a tumultuous relationship with trevor, filled with ups and downs as you cling to the belief that you can fix him and reignite the connection you shared after a fateful night together. amidst the judgment of friends and the complexities of your past, you grapple with the challenge of making things work this time while trying to prove that your love is worth fighting for

─ word count | 5.5k

─ warnings | NSFW (with plot) under the cut! read at your own discretion, p in v, praise/degradation (if you squint). pretty angsty, asshole trevor (like i mean REALLY ASSHOLE!), on and off relationship, umm... idk im pretty sure nothing else

The music was loud that night, the kind of thumping bass that rattled through your chest and made conversation nearly impossible. But you didn’t need words. Not then. Not with him.

Trevor was all smirks and sharp blue eyes, a whirlwind of energy as he made his way through the crowded room, laughing too loud, moving too fast. You didn’t know what pulled you to him—maybe it was the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room, or the easy confidence in his voice when he asked if you wanted to step outside for some air.

One minute, you were strangers, and the next, you were leaning against the railing of a balcony with the city skyline behind you, the party fading into a distant hum. Trevor told you things that night. Things that felt... real. He wasn't just the Trevor Zegras everyone else saw—funny, cocky, and always in the spotlight.

No, there was something deeper, something raw beneath the surface. He had opened up to you in a way you hadn't expected, and you thought, This is the real him. This is the Trevor he doesn’t show anyone else.

Later, when the night blurred into something heated, and your lips found each other in the dark, it felt like more than just a hookup. It felt like a connection. You woke up convinced that there was something between you, something worth fighting for.

And now, months later, you're still fighting.

You didn't know how you ended up locking him down. You see, Trevor wasn't a "boyfriend" kinda guy, until he met you. At least, that was what everyone else told you.

He was the one everyone whispered about, the one people said never stayed in one place too long—whether it was at a party, in the middle of a conversation, or in someone’s life. He was always in motion, constantly chasing the next thrill, the next distraction. But after that night, things shifted. You didn’t think you’d be the exception. You hadn’t planned for it, hadn’t expected that one encounter on that balcony to become something more. Yet here you are.

At first, it seemed like the universe was proving everyone wrong.

The people who warned you, who raised their eyebrows when you said you were “seeing” Trevor Zegras—they didn’t know him like you did. They hadn’t seen him the way you had that night, with the vulnerability in his voice, the way he’d let his guard down. You clung to that version of him, the one who had told you he felt lost sometimes, who had confessed that all the attention—the pressure, the expectations—it got to him. In that moment, he wasn’t the guy who laughed the loudest or wore that devil-may-care grin. He was real, stripped down in a way that felt… intimate.

You’d wake up in the morning with his arm draped over your waist, his breath warm against your neck, and for a second, everything felt perfect. Like this was how it was supposed to be. Like you had found a version of him no one else had. The connection from that night still lingered, and it was enough to keep you chasing it.

But then there were the moments in between. The way Trevor would pull away, emotionally at first, then physically—nights when he’d say he was too tired to talk or that he was out with the guys, shrugging it off like it was no big deal. You’d try not to let it get to you, convincing yourself that this was just how he was. He needed space. He wasn’t used to being in a relationship, and maybe he didn’t know how to act. You were different for him, something new. Something worth adjusting for.

So you waited.

You waited for the nights when he would come back around, when his smile would soften and his lips would find yours in the dark again, and for a few hours, it felt like he was the guy from the party all over again. The guy who opened up to you, who made you feel like you were the only person who understood him. You lived for those moments, told yourself they were enough.

After all, no one else saw that side of him. Just you.

It wasn’t that Trevor didn’t care. He did—in his own way. He’d call you after a tough game, not saying much, but you could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the way he leaned on you even in silence. And when you were together, there were times when he looked at you like you were the only steady thing in his life, like you grounded him. Those moments kept you going, made you believe you could fix him, that you were slowly chipping away at the walls he’d built up.

That beneath the carefree, reckless exterior was the guy you’d seen on that balcony, the one who wanted more but was just afraid to admit it.

But the disapproving looks from your friends started to weigh on you. The way they’d purse their lips or exchange glances when you mentioned his name. It was subtle at first—comments like, “You’re really still with him?” or “I don’t know, he just doesn’t seem like the relationship type.” You’d brush it off with a laugh, repeating the same thing every time: He’s different with me.

They didn’t get it. They didn’t see the side of Trevor that you did. The side that, even if fleeting, was real enough to make you stay.

It wasn’t just your friends, either. His teammates, people you’d meet at events or in passing, would make their own comments. “Zegras? You’re dating him?” There was always a note of surprise, like it didn’t quite add up. Trevor, in their eyes, was a wild card—a player, not just on the ice but in life. It wasn’t that they didn’t like you. They just didn’t understand how someone like you could tie down someone like him. But they didn’t know what you knew. They hadn’t seen the cracks in his armor.

At least, that was what you were trying to convince yourself.

Sometimes, when you were alone in your apartment, waiting for him to come back from another late night, you’d wonder if maybe they were right. If maybe you were chasing a version of Trevor that didn’t really exist, not anymore. But then he’d come back, all charming smiles and lazy kisses, and the doubts would fade. You’d tell yourself it was just a phase. He was figuring it out, just like you were. Relationships weren’t always easy. He wasn’t perfect, but neither were you. And wasn’t that the point? To fight for something worth having?

But still, in the quiet moments, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were the only one fighting. That every time you reached for him, he pulled away just a little bit more, and all you were left with were fragments of the guy you met that night, scattered and hard to piece together.

Yet you stayed. You stayed because you believed in him. You stayed because, deep down, you were convinced that Trevor was someone worth saving. You could fix him. You had to.

Then, your first break-up happened. Keyword: first.

It wasn’t explosive, like you’d expect. No shouting, no slammed doors or broken dishes. It happened on a Thursday—of all the ordinary days—and it crept up on you like a slow, inevitable wave. You should’ve seen it coming, maybe even prepared for it, but when it finally happened, it still felt like it knocked the air out of your lungs.

Trevor was distant that entire week. More than usual. He didn’t return your texts for hours, sometimes not at all, and when he did, it was always a short reply: busy, later, can’t tonight. You told yourself he had a lot on his plate—the season was in full swing, practices were intense, and the pressure from the media never let up. But deep down, you knew something else was going on.

That night, when he came over, there was a heaviness between you, the kind of weight that pressed down on your chest and made it hard to breathe. He didn’t kiss you when he walked in. Didn’t even flash you that half-smile you’d grown to crave. He just tossed his keys on the counter and collapsed onto your couch like the energy had been drained out of him. You asked how his day went, trying to make small talk, trying to ignore the growing pit in your stomach. He barely responded, and when he did, his words were clipped, distant.

You tried to bridge the gap, but it was like reaching for someone underwater—close enough to see, too far to touch. The silence stretched until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Trevor,” you said, voice tight, “what’s going on?”

He rubbed his hand over his face, exhaling in a way that made you feel like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. For a moment, he didn’t answer, just stared at the floor, and in that silence, you knew.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

His words hung in the air, so soft, yet they cut deeper than you could’ve imagined. You blinked, trying to process it, the suddenness of it, even though you’d felt it coming. “What do you mean?” Your voice cracked, and you hated it, hated the vulnerability that crept in, but you couldn’t help it.

“I just…” Trevor sighed, leaning back against the couch, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes weren’t as bright as they usually were, dulled by something you couldn’t quite place. “I’m not good at this. At… relationships. I thought maybe I could be, with you, but…” He trailed off, running his fingers through his hair, the gesture so familiar it twisted your heart.

“But you are,” you whispered, your throat tightening with desperation. “You can be.”

He shook his head, and there it was—that wall he always put up when things got too real. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly. “But I think I already am.”

And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it?

The thing you’d tried to ignore, to explain away with excuses. You were hurting, and he knew it. Maybe he even felt it, too. But instead of pulling you closer, he was doing what he always did—running.

“You’re not hurting me,” you said quickly, stepping closer, trying to bridge the gap between you. “We can figure this out. We can make it work.”

But Trevor shook his head again, standing up, his movements slow, like this was the last place he wanted to be but felt he had no choice. “I don’t think we can. I don’t think I’m what you need.”

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest, the ache spreading through every part of you. “You are,” you insisted, tears threatening to spill over, but you swallowed them down, refusing to break. “You just—you're just going through something right now. We can fix this, Trevor. I can help you.”

There it was again. The words that had become a mantra in your mind. I can fix this. I can fix him.

But Trevor’s face didn’t soften. His jaw tightened, and his eyes—those eyes that had once made you feel like you were the only person in the world—were cold. Detached. “You can’t,” he said quietly, almost regretfully. “I can’t even fix myself.”

He turned away then, and the sight of him walking toward the door felt like a punch to the gut. This was it. You were losing him. And no matter how hard you tried to hold on, he was slipping through your fingers.

“I thought we had something,” you said, your voice trembling now. You hated how small you sounded, how helpless, but you needed him to understand. “I thought we—”

“We did,” he interrupted, turning back to you, his expression unreadable. “But it’s not enough.”

The finality in his voice hit you like ice water. There was nothing left to say. Nothing you could do to change his mind. You wanted to scream, to beg him to stay, to tell him that he was wrong, that what you had was worth fighting for. But all the words caught in your throat, strangled by the weight of his decision.

And just like that, it was over. He grabbed his keys and walked out of your apartment, leaving you standing there in the middle of the room, your heart shattered on the floor in pieces you didn’t know how to pick up.

It felt like the end. But you didn’t realize it was only the beginning of a cycle you’d find yourself stuck in—over and over again. Because with Trevor, the break-ups were never final. There was always something pulling him back, something unfinished between you.

This was only the first.

───

Trevor's lips slammed into yours, his hand found your neck in the way it always did. You weren't sure how you ended up tipsy at Quinn fucking Hughes' party, making out with your ex again. His fingers pressed into your skin, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand the thought of space between you.

The taste of him—familiar and intoxicating—blurred your thoughts, and for a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the history, not the break-ups, not the fact that this had happened before. You were back in that heady, heated moment, the one that always made you forget how things fell apart.

You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t get sucked back in. Not again.

But the second you locked eyes with him across the room, something shifted. The electricity was still there, sparking between you like it always had. You’d been sipping on your drink, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up the moment you spotted him leaning against the wall, laughing at something Jack had said. He hadn’t noticed you at first, but when he did, his eyes lingered, the corner of his mouth lifting in that lazy half-smile that always made your stomach flip.

It was as if time stood still for a moment, the crowd around you fading into a dull hum. You told yourself to stay away, to keep your distance, but then he started making his way toward you, weaving through the throng of people like a magnet drawn to steel. By the time he reached you, it was too late.

One drink turned into two, and then you were leaning against the counter together, his arm brushing yours, every touch sending sparks through your skin. You didn’t mean to let it happen—at least, that’s what you told yourself. But when he leaned in, eyes dark and intent, you were powerless.

His mouth was on yours before you had time to think. Before you had time to remind yourself why this was a bad idea. Your back hit the wall as Trevor pressed closer, his body solid and warm against yours, his kiss rough, urgent. He kissed you like he was drowning and you were the only thing keeping him afloat. And just like that, you were right back where you started.

The noise of the party faded into the background, the music, the laughter, the voices—it all disappeared. All you could focus on was the way his hands roamed your body, the way his lips moved against yours, the way everything about him felt so damn familiar.

He hadn’t changed. Not really. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Because neither had you.

It was always like this with Trevor—crashing back into each other like waves against the shore, only to pull away and leave destruction in your wake. You knew it, deep down, but the connection between you was like gravity, impossible to resist.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he muttered against your mouth, his words muffled by the kiss, but you heard them. Felt them in the way his grip tightened on your waist, in the heat of his breath against your skin.

You should’ve stopped him. You should’ve pushed him away, told him that this wasn’t what you needed, that he couldn’t just waltz back into your life after breaking your heart. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Instead, your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer, as if holding on tighter would somehow make this all make sense. As if it would make the hurt go away. Because when Trevor kissed you like this, when he touched you like this, it was easy to forget the pain, the doubt, the nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you that this was a mistake.

You wanted to believe that this time would be different. That maybe, just maybe, this kiss meant something more than just a fleeting moment of lust and longing. But you knew better. You’d been here before. You’d lived this cycle over and over again, and every time, it ended the same way—with you left wondering how you ever thought it would be different.

“Trevor,” you whispered against his lips, trying to catch your breath, but he didn’t let up.

His hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, fingertips brushing against your skin under your bra, sending shivers down your spine. He always knew exactly how to undo you, how to make you forget everything except the way he made you feel.

“Just… don’t think,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were half-lidded, intense, and you could see the hunger there, the desperation. “I missed you. Missed us.”

Us. The word twisted something in your chest, and you couldn’t help the bitter laugh that bubbled up. “There is no ‘us,’ Trevor. Not anymore.”

He froze for a split second, just long enough for the reality of your words to sink in. But then he was kissing you again, harder this time, as if he could erase the truth with his lips, as if he could will you back into the illusion you both clung to. And for a moment, you let him. For a moment, you let yourself pretend that maybe, just maybe, you could make it work this time.

But deep down, you knew this wasn’t real. Not really. It never was.

“You're the only one for me, y'know?” He mumbled against your lips as if he heard your thoughts, your doubts.

He pulled away for a second, gazing into your eyes like you were the only person in the world—no, in his world. You averted your gaze, your lips forming something in between a frown and pout.

“I'm serious,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was pleading for you to believe him. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in that familiar way that always made your heart skip a beat. “You’re the only one for me.”

You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe that the Trevor standing in front of you right now was telling the truth, that he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear. But how many times had you been here before? How many times had he looked at you with those same eyes, said those same words, only to disappear the moment things got hard?

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, searching for something—anything—that would make this feel real. But all you could see was the same pattern, the same cycle repeating itself over and over again. He always came back. And every time, you let him.

“Trevor…” You said his name softly, your heart aching with the weight of everything left unsaid. “You say that now, but—”

“But what?” he cut you off, his grip on you tightening as if he were afraid you might slip away. “I mean it. I know I’ve screwed up before, but this… this is different.”

Different. He always said that, too.

You swallowed hard, the words tangled on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to tell him that you couldn’t do this again, that you couldn’t keep letting him back into your life only for him to break your heart all over again. But when you opened your mouth, the words wouldn’t come. Instead, all you could think about was the way he made you feel in this moment—the way his touch still sent sparks through your body, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you like this.

But before you could voice your concerns, his lips were on yours again. This time the kiss was softer, almost tender, as if he were trying to tell you all the things he couldn’t say out loud. The urgency from earlier was gone, replaced by something gentler, something that tugged at your heart in ways you wished it didn’t. His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like the world had quieted, like maybe this could be the start of something better.

But deep down, you knew better.

You kissed him back anyway, letting yourself get lost in the warmth of his embrace, in the way his mouth moved with a kind of reverence, like he was trying to make you believe that this time was different. And for a split second, you wanted to let yourself believe it. You wanted to pretend that everything you felt—the hope, the heartbreak, the endless cycle of push and pull—was leading somewhere other than the same painful end.

Trevor pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours, his voice low and filled with a vulnerability you hadn’t heard in a long time. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his hands still holding your face like you were something fragile, something worth protecting. “I need you to know that.”

Before you could reply, his hands slipped under your thighs, lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. Trevor kicked open the door of Quinn's room, dropping you on the bed as he pushed you down. His lips smashed into yours, the desperation was back as you sighed into his lips.

He leaned away for a second, gazing into your eyes, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmured, his voice rough with a mix of desire and something deeper—something that made your heart ache.

His eyes searched yours, pleading, as if he needed you to say the words that would give him permission to keep going. To keep pretending that this was enough.

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing. The room felt suffocating, the weight of his body pressing into yours, grounding you in the moment even though your mind was spinning. You could feel his hands trembling slightly as they gripped your hips, like he was terrified you might push him away.

And for a second, you almost did.

You almost told him that this—whatever this was—wasn’t what you needed, that the late-night kisses and whispered promises weren’t going to fix what was broken between you.

But instead, you stared up at him, the words lodged in your throat. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Couldn’t bring yourself to end the moment when everything felt so perfect, so right, even though you knew it wasn’t. Even though you knew this was just another temporary high, another rush of emotion that would crash down just as quickly as it had started.

You wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that he wasn’t going anywhere, that maybe this time would be different. But you knew better. You’d been here before, and every time, it ended the same way—with him leaving and you left picking up the pieces.

“I…” Your voice was shaky, barely audible, as you stared up into his blue eyes. You should say no. You should tell him that you needed more than this.

But when you opened your mouth, what came out was, “I want this.”

Trevor’s gaze darkened, and without another word, he crashed his lips against yours, his kiss more urgent this time, as if he needed to prove something. His hands roamed your body, tugging at your clothes, and you let him. You let him because it was easier than facing the truth. Easier than admitting that this—these fleeting moments of passion—was all you ever really had with him.

Your back arched as he moved over you, his hands exploring every inch of your skin, his mouth tracing a line down your neck, making you forget, if only for a moment, about all the things that weren’t said. All the doubts that had been lingering in the back of your mind since the moment you walked into that party and saw him again.

You let yourself get lost in him, in the way he touched you, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment. Because in those moments, it was easy to forget the pain, the heartache, the constant push and pull. It was easy to believe that maybe, just maybe, this was enough.

But deep down, you knew it wasn’t.

It never would be.

And as Trevor’s lips found yours again as he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in your chest—that no matter how much you wanted to believe in the potential of what you could be, the reality was that Trevor could never give you what you truly needed.

“God, this pussy was made for me,” he moaned as he slammed into you, his forehead falling into yours.

You nodded, your eyes squeezing shut. “Trev,” you moaned as you gripped the sheets underneath. “Oh, God.”

His hands grabbed your face, forcing you to meet his dark gaze. “No one can ever make you feel this way, right?”

You let out a small whimper as you gazed up at him, shaking your head. “No, only you,” you told him—and it was the honest truth.

His grip tightened just enough to make your heart race, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “Say it again,” he demanded, his voice low and rough, filled with something almost desperate. “Tell me it’s only me.”

Your breath hitched, your body trembling beneath him as his words sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the weight of his need, the way he was searching for something—validation, control, reassurance—that you weren’t sure you could give. But in that moment, with his hands on you, his gaze burning into yours, you couldn’t bring yourself to resist.

“It’s only you,” you moaned, your voice shaking as you repeated the words he wanted to hear. “Only you, Trevor.”

A flash of satisfaction crossed his face, and his lips were on yours again, more possessive this time, like he needed to claim you, to prove that what you said was true. His hands moved from your face to your waist, pulling you closer as he fucked you into the mattress, holding you tight as if he was afraid you might disappear.

You moaned again, your head falling back into the mattress. The desperation in his touch was overwhelming, consuming, and all you could do was surrender to it. To him.

But you couldn't help but crave it, in some twisted way.

But even as your body responded to him, your heart was heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. Because yes, he made you feel things no one else did. Yes, he ignited something in you that was impossible to ignore. But it wasn’t enough. You knew that. You both knew that.

Trevor pulled back, his breath ragged as he stared down at you, his thumb brushing over your lips. “You belong to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with conviction, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “Don’t you?”

And in that moment, you couldn’t say no.

Even though the rational part of you wanted to scream that you didn’t belong to anyone, that you needed more than this, more than the highs and lows, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. Not when he was looking at you like that. Not when he was giving you everything he could in this moment, even if it wasn’t enough.

“I do,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you nodded, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I belong to you, Trevor.”

His eyes darkened with satisfaction, his hips moving even faster as his lips kissed you roughly. And you let him. You let him because in that moment, it was easier to give in, to pretend that what you had was enough. Easier than facing the truth that no matter how much you wanted him, no matter how much you tried to make it work, Trevor would never be the guy you needed him to be.

But for now, you let yourself forget all that. You let yourself get lost in the way he touched you, the way he made you feel alive, even if it was only temporary.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, and suddenly all of the doubts in your headed muted. “O-oh, fuck!” You cried out as you gripped the sheets underneath you, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your orgasm crashed into you like a train, strings of curses and cries of pleasure leaving both of your lips. His forehead fell against yours, breathless as he kissed you again.

His hands found your face again, pulling you up to meet his hooded gaze. “That's my beautiful girl,” he mumbled before letting go and pulling out of you.

My beautiful girl.

The words echoed in your head, sending a rush of warmth through your chest, but there was an ache that followed just as quickly. Your heart flipped, clinging to the way it sounded, the way it felt like he meant it. You barely noticed Trevor pulling up his pants, getting off the bed, as you lay there, still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions running through you.

For a moment, you just watched him—watched the way his fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans, the way he ran a hand through his tousled hair like he was already back in his own world, already a step removed from you. He was there, but somehow, not really.

You sat up slowly, the sheets slipping from your shoulders as reality settled over you like a cold blanket. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been here before, in this exact position, watching him get dressed, waiting for the inevitable distance that would follow. But this time, something felt heavier, like the weight of your heart had finally caught up with you.

Trevor didn’t say anything, didn’t even glance back at you as he grabbed his phone off the nightstand, his attention already elsewhere. It was like a switch had flipped, like whatever moment you’d just shared wasn’t as significant to him as it was to you.

You pulled your knees to your chest, biting your lip as you searched for the right words to say, something that might bring him back into the moment with you, something that might make him stay just a little longer. But the silence stretched between you, heavy and thick, and it made you feel small, like maybe you were holding onto something that was already slipping away.

Trevor glanced over his shoulder at you, his face unreadable. “I should probably head out,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just turned your world upside down, like leaving now was the most normal thing in the world.

You swallowed hard, forcing a smile even though your chest tightened. “Yeah… sure.”

He leaned down, planting a quick kiss on your forehead, too quick, too brief, and you felt the familiar emptiness creeping in. “I’ll text you,” he added, his voice already distant.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything else, not trusting your voice to stay steady. You wanted to ask him to stay. Wanted to tell him that you needed more than this, more than stolen moments and whispered promises that never seemed to last. But you didn’t. You just watched him walk out the door, the sound of it closing behind him echoing in the quiet room.

And just like that, he was gone.

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of the empty space beside you heavier than it had ever been. You sat there for a long time, staring at the door, waiting for the ache in your chest to subside. But it didn’t. It never did.

My beautiful girl.

The words lingered in your mind, and as much as you wanted to hold onto them, to believe that they meant something, deep down, you knew better. Because being his “beautiful girl” wasn’t enough. It had never been enough.

And the worst part? You weren’t sure you knew how to let go.

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[heyiwrotesomethings]

Maddy, i hope you're having a good day, night, and or evening. What about a small angsty Shinobu x reader? I recall an anon talking about a Spy x Family spin on Parenthood. So what if Shinobu and the reader encounter eachother on seperate mission where they need to go against eachother and find out eachothers real jobs? Ofc, in the end they can't actually kill eachother so they're silently patching eachother up with small bits of heated arguing in-between because of how the other lied to them for so long. And ik you like happy endings sooo maybe in the midst of it all they end up falling for eachother for real instead of the fake marriage they have. And maybe at the end their adopted kids are just baffled by how much more flustered they are around eachother come morning.

A Marriage of Convenience

Shinobu Kochou x She/ Her Reader (AU of the Parenthood AU)

A/N: Aaaaah! This took so long! I could have easily started from the mission, but I wanted to establish the family more to make the moment a little more tense and emotional for the readers. Sorry I didn’t completely follow the prompt either, it kinda got away from me. Hope you still like it! Word Count: 5,320

Akiko rubbed her eyes and stumbled out of her bedroom, the smell of breakfast being her guiding light.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” (Y/n) greeted, flipping a fresh pile of mini pancakes onto the plate in front of Akiko.

“Momma, I think I’m sick. I can’t go to school today.”

“Is that so?”

Akiko flinched, angling her sight to the kitchen, she saw Shinobu drying her hands as she made her way over and groaned internally. Usually Shinobu would already be long gone even this early in the morning, but apparently the hospital didn’t need her at the moment.

“Let me see…” Shinobu knelt down beside Akiko’s chair, carefully pressing their foreheads together and after a moment, she hummed thoughtfully.

“Your temperature seems normal. What are your symptoms?”

“Nevermind, Kaasan.” Akiko sighed in defeat, stuffing a pancake into her mouth. When it came to feigning sickness, it was useless to go against such a well disciplined doctor as Shinobu.

“Akiko,” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “you should never be dishonest about your health. If the time comes that you are really sick, no one will believe you until you’ve thrown-up all over the floor.”

“Sorry.” The fourth grader sighed, then took a big gulp of orange juice.

“School is important, Aki-chan,” Shinobu reminded, “and if you don’t go, your school work will only grow. Your friends will start to miss you too. Isn’t that right, dear?” Shinobu titled her head to look to (Y/n) for confirmation.

“Exactly.”

A fussy grunt from down the hall put an end to the light lecture and (Y/n) left to retrieve Shin from his crib. Shinobu tickled Akiko briefly to coax a smile from the girl before taking her seat at the table and began filling her plate.

Finally, Akiko perked up in earnest, listening in to her adoptive mother’s internal dialogue of her plans for the day. That was a billion times more interesting than anything she could learn at school, because Shinobu wasn’t only a doctor, she was also an assassin.

Those paths certainly seemed like a conflict of interests, but Shinobu only killed the really, really bad people, honestly! After her parents and sister were murdered, Shinobu had nearly nothing to her name. She got into assassin work very young and made enough money to get through medical school.

‘The mission I must prepare for tonight will not be an easy one,’ Akiko heard Shinobu think, ‘that hideout was heavily guarded when I did my reconnaissance, so I know the target must be there, but the question persists, where will he reside in such a large building? The longer it takes to locate him, the more likely it is that I am spotted. I really don’t want to kill more people than necessary…’

So exciting! Akiko pouted when Shinobu became distracted by (Y/n) and Shin’s return, ceasing her internal dialogue.

Shinobu took Shin from (Y/n) and sat the near one-year-old on her lap and offered him a bit of pancake which he happily slobbered on.

“Coffee?” (Y/n) offered Shinobu.

“Yes, please.”

Akiko swiveled in her chair, tuning in on the other woman as she walked back into the kitchen nook to start the coffee machine.

‘Infiltration for this upcoming mission will be one of my toughest yet, but the intelligence hidden there will be crucial in preventing this war. Failure is not an option.’

Awesome! (Y/n) had a mission sometime soon as well! Akiko could hardly wait to hear more! The woman who had adopted her five years ago was a psychiatrist by day and an international spy by night, though there were many occasions where that work bled into the daylight hours as well.

Akiko couldn’t ask for a more exciting duo, but how did she know of her adoptive parents’ double lives anyway? It didn’t matter how good at subterfuge (Y/n) and Shinobu were, they couldn’t compete with a girl who could read minds!

Akiko knew from the moment (Y/n) stepped into the orphanage that she was looking for a child to pose as her daughter and Akiko wasted no time in putting her best foot forward to show that she could fill that spot.

Shinobu came a little later. (Y/n) needed to find a partner, a civilian partner, since no other agents were available apparently.

In her excitement to get home one day, Akiko had accidentally ran into Shinobu at the park when they were on their way back from the grocery store. Food packages scattered across the ground when (Y/n) saved Shinobu from toppling over into the pond beside the path.

“Akiko!” (Y/n) had scolded her, helping Shinobu find her equilibrium and then bowing deeply, “I am so sorry, miss.”

Shinobu had chuckled, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “No harm done. Here, allow me to help,” she crouched down and began helping (Y/n) refill her toppled grocery bag.

“You really don’t have to.”

“It’s no trouble.” She insisted, “Looks like Someone is excited to have a yummy dinner, is that right?” She beamed at Akiko.

Akiko had openly marveled at the woman. She was nice, she was pretty, a great choice of partner for her momma!

“Mhm!” Akiko nodded vigorously, “Come have dinner with us!“

“Akiko,” (Y/n) began to object, but Akiko was faster.

“My momma says that if you do a wrong, you gotta try to fix it. We can make a dinner as a sorry, right?”

“Hmm,” Shinobu pondered playfully, watching (Y/n) subtly squirm, “That sounds like a very sweet apology, but I think you should have a nice family dinner with your parents instead, alright?”

“It’s only me and momma. Momma’s been looking for a boyfriend or girlfriend but she’s bad at it.” Akiko bluntly replied, making Shinobu stifle a laugh as (Y/n) flustered and sputtered.

Akiko blinked, tuning into the woman’s thoughts as they suddenly grew in volume.

‘Perhaps this could work… it’s much too soon to presume, but she’s as good a candidate as any to keep my cover. The fact that she’s a single mother makes her that much more unassuming. If I don’t want to be discovered as an assassin, I ought to take advantage of this offering to get my foot in the door if I can.’

Nice, pretty, and an assassin?! Akiko could hardly believe her luck! This could be an opportunity to really bring her favorite spy show to life!

“Truthfully, I was going to be lazy and pick up take out for tonight. So I wouldn’t be opposed to a nice home cooked meal,” she turned her eyes onto (Y/n), laying on the charm, “but only if it is alright with your mother of course.”

‘Well, this is what you asked for, Agent. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to at least try. It’s only dinner after all.’ Akiko heard (Y/n) ponder before she spoke aloud,

“I don’t really mind. We would be happy to have you…”

Shinobu rose to her full height once she placed the last item back in the paper bag, then held out her hand, “Dr. Shinobu Kochou, pediatrics.”

“Oh,” (Y/n) chuckled, taking Shinobu’s offered hand and standing up, “Dr. (Y/n) (L/n), psychiatrics.”

“Really? You must work at the hospital across town. I think I would definitely remember seeing you around.”

“You got me,” (Y/n) chuckled, feeling her face warm. Was this woman earnestly flirting with her already, or was she just being playful?

“Well, rival hospital resident, we should talk more about this over dinner preparations. I’m excited to learn more about you, and you as well Akiko-chan.”

Akiko perked up, eyes shining with excitement. She snatched (Y/n) and Shinobu’s hands and began dragging them to the apartment despite (Y/n)’s insistence on slowing down. This was going to be amazing!

Listening to the spy and assassin’s inner monologues over the next several weeks as they tried to entice the other into courtship for the sake of their covers was both entertaining and headache inducing for the young mind-reader to listen in on.

As self-serving as their reasons may have been at the start, they never had the intention of hurting the other and made a genuine effort to be the best partner they could be despite their dueling deceptions. The more they got to know each other, the less of a job it was and the more honest the attraction became.

But despite actually growing an attachment to each other and developing an enjoyment of each other’s company, and dare it be said, falling in love, they couldn’t be more relieved for their demanding day jobs and their constantly fluctuating schedules because they left plenty of room to take care of their missions without any suspicion. Still, there was a concern that this dangerous secret they both kept would come to light one day, but being as skilled as they were, that would never happen… right?

Anyhow, the domesticity that the found family of three had wrapped themselves in over the next four-and-a-half years had lulled them into comfortable routine, making it Akiko’s abrupt demand all the more astonishing.

“I want a baby brother!”

“Huh?” (Y/n) blinked.

“Come again?” Shinobu cupped her ear, as if Akiko hadn’t been abundantly clear.

“You promised that if all of my grades were above a ‘C’, that you would get me whatever I wanted. I even earned my fourth Stella!” Akiko reminded, pointing an accusing finger at (Y/n), “I want a baby brother!”

“Sweetheart, please, be reasonable. You know that’s not what I meant when I said I’d get you something—“

“You didn’t say ‘something’, you said ‘anything’ and the ‘anything’ I want, is a baby brother!”

“Babies don’t just fall out of the sky, Akiko.”

“Sure picked me up easily enough…” the little girl grumped, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Your momma and I are too busy working to take care of a baby.” Shinobu chimed in, placing a steaming cup of hot cocoa with extra whipped cream on top in front of Akiko in an attempt to distract her.

Akiko took a moment to lap at the whipped cream like a cat, but she was not deterred from her mission in the slightest.

“If I don’t get a baby brother, I’ll stop going to school! Even if you make me go, I won’t do any work and fail all of my tests. The Tonitrus Bolts look cooler anyway!”

“Akiko!” (Y/n) and Shinobu gasped as one.

They couldn’t believe she would stoop to such a low. Worse than that, they knew she wasn’t bluffing either. It was then silent for a long moment before Shinobu asked.

“Will you let us discuss your demands first before you go on strike?”

“Shinobu—“

“Okay Kaasan. You have twenty-four hours.” Akiko said in her best spy show antagonist voice. She scooted off of her chair and carefully took her hot cocoa into the living room to then watch said spy show.

“Shinobu, if we give her all day and night to think this is really a possibility, she is going to follow through on that threat for sure. Unless this a planning session for what an eight-year-old would want more than a sibling?” (Y/n) spoke in a hushed tone.

“I was actually thinking that maybe we could consider the possibility.”

“You said it yourself, we don’t have the time to take care of two children. Why are you taking the time to consider at all?”

Shinobu smiled tenderly at (Y/n). She slid her hands across the table to lay atop her wife’s.

“Having you and Akiko crash into me nearly half a decade ago, was the best thing to have ever happened to me. I’ve never felt more complete, however, the possibility of extending this happiness to another child in need could only add to the happiness I feel. But, if another child is not something you want, then I will stand with you against the tyranny of the one we already have.” Shinobu teased.

(Y/n)’s heart rate had picked up an extra beat or two upon hearing Shinobu’s heartfelt words. It made her feel warm, a little dizzy even. Love was wild. She would protect this family and the peace of this world with her life!

“I think I feel the same. It just feels so sudden.”

“It’ll take months before we have everything set up, and we will have each other every step of the way.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” (Y/n) turned her hands palm up beneath Shinobu’s, “Let’s give it our all.”

“Is it happening?” Akiko asked, suddenly appearing around the corner on hands and knees.

(Y/n) exhaled, shaking her head at her daughter’s antics before smiling, “We’re certainly going to try.”

“Yes!”

Six months later they brought the sweetest infant boy home and that was how the family got where they are today.

“Finish up, the bus will be here soon.” (Y/n) said, checking the time.

“M’kay,” Akiko groaned.

She got up from the table to put in her coat and get her backpack, momentarily distracted by Shin’s gurgling as Shinobu bounced him on her lap.

An image came to mind, a big building filled with boxes and scary looking people. Slinking around a dark corner was Shinobu, a long, poison laced needle in each hand. A quiet click was heard just beyond the corner and Shinobu braced herself. Pivoting quickly on her heel, she spun around the corner, needle clutched tightly in her outstretched fist. A silenced pistol reflexively took aim at Shinobu’s head and just beyond, holding the weapon… was (Y/n).

A flicker of surprise passed between them, then hurt, then impassive stone. They braced themselves further as if preparing to lunge and shoot respectively—

“Akiko, shoes on honey. Come on, let’s go.” (Y/n)’s voice shook Akiko free from the vision.

“Oh dear, where did this sudden bee in your bonnet come from, hm?” Shinobu asked the fussy baby in her lap.

Shin wailed as Shinobu cooed, attempting to soothe him. Akiko’s tummy did a flip when her brother’s watery eyes connected with hers. He wasn’t old enough to talk, nor really understand speech, but what he did have, Akiko discovered, was an ability to peek into the future if the visions he would send her were anything to go by.

But usually the visions were inconsequential. Such as what would be for dinner, getting caught in the rain and the like. Sometimes, Akiko found she could change the outcome of a vision depending on her actions, but the vision she had just seen… how could she stop that from becoming reality?

Her parents were going to unintentionally expose their true identities to each other in a hostile environment! What was going to happen? How could she stop it?

“Earth to Akiko,” (Y/n) sang, “go hug your brother and Kaasan, we gotta go.”

“Bye sweetie, I’m working super late tonight so I probably won’t see you until tomorrow.” Shinobu explained, leaning down to kiss the overwhelmed girl’s forehead before giving her wife the same treatment. “Have a good day.”

“You too. I should be back before four, but if you need me back earlier, call me.” (Y/n) reminded her, giving her and Shin a couple chaste kisses in return.

She then took Akiko’s hand, guiding her out the front door, out of the apartment complex, and into the bus that had just pulled up to the curb.

“Have a good day at school, Akiko.”

“Momma, wait!”

“I’m going to be late, whatever it is, I promise you can tell me all about it after school. Have fun, make good choices!” (Y/n) yelled from the curb, waving and blowing her daughter another kiss as the bus slowly began to pull away.

Akiko did her best to keep herself calm as the bus pulled up to the school. The future could be changed… (Y/n) was going to be home tonight. That meant she and Shinobu probably weren’t going to run into each other right away. She had time. Yeah, that’s right. Akiko took a few calming breaths like Shinobu had taught her and made herself relax. She would try to get another vision out of Shin when she got home and get everything sorted out. Everything was going to be okay.

Except when she got back home after school, instead of (Y/n) waiting for her at the curb, it was Mitsuri, informant turned babysitter standing at the curb with Shin tucked in her arms. Normally, Akiko would be ecstatic to see the bubbly and endlessly fun woman, but if she was here, that meant that (Y/n) had a mission to complete tonight after all!

“Hi Akiko! Did you have a good day at school?” Mitsuri happily chirped.

“Where is momma?”

“She’s having an emergency meeting with a patient. She won’t be back until later tonight. What should I make us for dinner? Do you need help with your homework?” Mitsuri asked.

She numbly followed Mitsuri back into the apartment. She wished that was really what (Y/n) was off doing, but she knew better and Mitsuri’s thoughts were loud. (Y/n) was already on a mission and Akiko had no way to contact her. She could only hope that she wouldn’t run into Shinobu along the way.

Akiko hadn’t realized how the exciting secrets her parents held could jeopardize their family. She should have just revealed everything from the start… then maybe… no. (Y/n) and Shinobu honestly loved each other to bits. They could get through this. Shin’s visions of the future were subject to change and Akiko hadn’t even gotten to see all of the last one. She would hold out hope that everything was going to work out.

Or maybe she could give Mitsuri the slip tonight. If the mission Shinobu had been preparing for was tonight, Akiko had an idea of where she had to go.

***

(Y/n) ripped the mask from her face, throwing the torn material into the storage closet along with the two guards she had deceived. Her infiltration had been successful thus far. Now all she needed was to take pictures of all the documents and maps spread around the room that had been guarded moments before. The group of domestic terrorists were making plans to insight war, but with this information now in (Y/n)’s hands, they would instead find themselves locked up in prison for a very long time.

All information secure, she ducked back out of the room, all she had to do now was go home and hand off the photos to Mitsuri. Maybe Akiko would still be awake. She did seem a little distraught before school and (Y/n) was going to check on her before her mission had been moved up.

She froze against the wall when she heard soft footsteps steadily coming closer. She silently cursed, readying her pistol should worse come to worse. When she couldn’t hear anything after a tense minute, she almost put down her gun, but a sharp moment from around the corner brought her defenses right back up. She found herself pointing her gun in the face of the last person she would have expected to see in a place like this, her wife.

She saw Shinobu’s lips part briefly in surprise, but she kept her deadly stance, a long needle like blade aimed centimeters away from the spy’s throat. (Y/n) kept her gun trained on Shinobu because of that, as much as it pained her to do so.

“Can’t say I expected to find you here, dear.” Shinobu spoke lowly, tightening her grip. The numbness of her tone when uttering that pet name made (Y/n)’s heart sink.

“I could say the same about you. I guess we were both hiding secrets from each other. Though I never would have believed you could be so in the wrong.”

“I’m in the wrong?” Shinobu chuckled humorlessly. “How could you be so blind? How could I have been? Falling in love with someone like you is the biggest mistake of my life.”

“Maybe so.” (Y/n) swallowed, stamping her emotions down the more they tried to bubble over. She was on a mission, she couldn’t afford to be emotional, but all she could think about was how she would have to tear apart her family for the good of humanity.

Shinobu could see the turmoil (Y/n) was going through, she could feel it swirling within her as well. She could have killed (Y/n) six different ways by now, but the fact that she hadn’t was all she needed to know that she couldn’t do it at all.

“Just stay out of my way. I’ve already done away with your boss, it’s over.” Shinobu didn’t know where they would go from here, but she’d rather not stick around and wait for her deed to be discovered by any other followers.

“My boss… wait, my boss?” (Y/n) squinted, “Are you talking about—“

“Yes, the leader of these blood-thirsty, warmongering, disgusting people who want nothing more than to destroy families for money.” Shinobu spat vehemently, pointedly.

(Y/n)’s shoulders relaxed, a rush of relief filled her chest along with the breath of air she inhaled. Shinobu regarded the change finding it both strange and infuriating. Then (Y/n) dropped her gun, adding confusion to Shinobu’s list of dueling emotions.

“Shinobu, my beloved, never in my life would I have believed that I’d be so happy to hear you tell me you killed someone.”

“What are you saying?” Shinobu huffed, still on guard.

“I’m an international spy. My mission here was to document and sabotage the plans of this organization to prevent war.”

If anyone else had told her this, Shinobu would have just chalked it up to the poor soul trying to save their skin, but with (Y/n) she couldn’t help but to believe her full-heartedly. She lowered her weapons, sliding them back into their sheaths.

“Good,” she nodded, “good. If you had actually been a part of this, I would have killed you, found a way to bring you back, and then kill you again.”

“And you’d have been in the right for that.” (Y/n) said softly, and when Shinobu tackled her in a bruising hug, she returned the pressure with matching intensity. There was a lot to discuss, but now was not the time nor the place.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.” (Y/n) exhaled audibly.

“Do you have all the evidence you need?” Shinobu asked.

(Y/n) smiled and nodded, patting the disposable camera in her jacket pocket. She then picked up her gun, as soon as it touched her gloved hand, an alarm began to sound and a voice came over the speakers.

“The boss is dead! There are intruders in the building! I repeat, intruders in the building!”

“Damn it, we have to get out of here now!” (Y/n) hissed.

“There is a passage underneath some floorboards in a room not too far from her that leads to the forest. We can escape—“

“AHHH! Momma, Kaasan! I found youuuu! Save meeee!”

Could there possibly be any more surprises tonight? The women swiveled, finding their daughter dressed in black from head to— to her pink shoes, running as fast as her little legs could carry her away from the men running after her.

“Akiko?!”

“I’ve got her.” Shinobu’s eyes darkened, needles in her hands once more.

Her speed surprised (Y/n), but she wasn’t about to be left behind. She helped Shinobu dispatch the thugs quickly before taking Akiko into her arms.

“Are you okay?! Why?! How?!” (Y/n) couldn’t believe Akiko was really there.

“Did you leave the kids at home alone? How often do you do that?” Shinobu yelled, smacking her wife on the back several times

“Of course not! Mitsuri was supposed to be watching them!” (Y/n) defended.

The sirens renewed their intensity and thick metal began slowly closing off the doors and it became clear that this would also be a discussion best had later. They quickly headed to the passage, taking out a few more guards along the way. They burst through the trapdoor and ran out into the open air, tumbling into the car Shinobu had left hidden near the forest edge. It hadn’t been easy, but they lost them and got home relatively unscathed.

“Oh my god, what happened?” Mitsuri gawked when she opened the door to let them in. “Akiko? When did you get out of bed? I just checked on you.”

“That’s my pillow under the covers, Ms. Mitsu.” The fourth grader yawned, snuggling into her mother’s neck. Mitsuri immediately began to sweat.

“Eh?! (Y/n), Shinobu, I am so so so so sorry!”

“Don’t be mad, please momma? It’s not Ms. Mitsu’s fault.”

“I’m too tired to be mad,” (Y/n) sighed, digging in her pocket, she took out the camera and handed it to Mitsuri, “be sure this gets back to HQ for me please.”

“A-ah, HQ? You mean the hospital? You must be tired! Ha ha…” she laughed nervously.

“Shinobu and Akiko know everything now. There is no need to try to hide anything anymore.” (Y/n) said, sitting down on the couch with a loud groan.

“Oh, well, that’s good then! You know I’m not very good at the whole deception thing. It makes my stomach hurt. Wait, what were you doing there in the first place, Shinobu?”

“Typical assassin work.” Shinobu shrugged.

“Oh.” Mitsuri paled. “And just to be clear, you aren’t mad at me either… right?”

“You have nothing to worry about Mitsuri. You can sleep peacefully tonight.” Shinobu smiled, shaking her head.

“I’m glad to hear that. Anyway, you all look like you’ve got a lot to talk about… I’ll get out of your hair and take this information to HQ. And um, sorry again for losing your kid. I’m going to be beating myself up about that for quite some time.”

“I’m sorry Ms. Mitsu.”

“If I’m ever allowed to watch you again, I’m going to start handcuffing your wrist to mine until your parents come back.” Mitsuri pouted. She couldn’t keep up the expression long however, and still gave Akiko a bone-crushing before taking her leave.

Shinobu took Akiko’s hand and led her to the couch, sitting her between herself and (Y/n). As tired as they all were, they really did have much to discuss.

“Akiko, how did you know where to find us, how did you get there?” She asked.

Akiko looked down at her feet. Well, the biggest secrets her parents had were now out in the open. It was only fair she shared hers. She just hoped it wouldn’t change anything. She took a deep breath,

“I can read minds and Shin can see the future. I snuck out and took the bus as far as I could go and then walked the rest of the way.”

(Y/n) and Shinobu shared a concerned look and then Shinobu placed the back of her hand over Akiko’s forehead.

“Were you really ill this morning, honey?” She cooed. Akiko sharply shook her head.

“I’m telling the truth! I’ve known momma was a spy since I first met her, I knew you were an assassin too! When we all first met, you both wanted to make a good impression so you could use each other as a cover to look more normal like in my spy show.”

The women tensed, looking to each other worriedly.

“You know I really love you, right?” (Y/n) told her, wringing her hands in her lap, “I was looking for someone to help make Akiko and I look more natural and approachable, but it quickly became about more than that with you.”

“It is the same for me,” Shinobu quickly agreed, “and what I had told you before at the hideout has been eating me up. Even if it was born from a misunderstanding, it is important to me that you know that falling in love with you was not a mistake at all. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Anyway,” Akiko coughed, finding their overly lovesick expressions to be a bit much, but what child wouldn’t think the same, “Shin had a vision about the future, I saw it too because I read his mind. In the vision, I saw you bump into each other while you both were working and it looked really scary like you’d hurt each other and so I decided I needed to find a way to stop that from happening.”

“How long have you been able to do this?” (Y/n) asked.

“Probably since I was born I think. I can’t remember ever not being able to…” Akiko kicked her feet nervously, “Do you still love me even though I’m weird?”

(Y/n) and Shinobu were quick to reassure her, hugging her body tight between them. Of course they still loved her, that fact would never change.

“Nothing could ever make us love you any less, don’t ever doubt that.” (Y/n) kissed the top of her head.

“So I’m not in trouble?”

“Oh, but you are in trouble, my sweet girl.” She tutted, making Akiko gulp.

“You did give Mitsuri the slip and go to a dangerous place you had no right to be.” Shinobu reminded.

“There will be extra chores for the next two weeks.” (Y/n) dictated, making Akiko groan. “Now I think it’s about time we get you back to bed.”

(Y/n) hoisted Akiko into her arms like she was still as small as she was when she was five. Shinobu followed close behind as they walked to her bedroom and together they tucked her in, marveling at how quickly sleep came to Akiko. She must’ve been more exhausted than she had let on.

They checked on Shin next. The baby boy laid flat on his back in peaceful slumber, seemingly unaware of the chaos of the night, though he probably saw plenty. How had they ended up with two super-powered children?

As they exited his room, Shinobu placed her hand on (Y/n)’s arm, getting her to turn to face her.

“Let me get the first aid kit from the bathroom, you’ve got a few scrapes and bruises I’d like to take care of. Wait for me in the bedroom.”

(Y/n) easily agreed, as long as Shinobu promised to allow herself to be given the same treatment.

They say cross-legged in front of each other on the bed and took turns working on each other, scanning the other for anything they might have missed. It felt like it was the most intimate thing they had ever done. If they had ever gotten hurt on a mission before, they had always patched themselves up and hid it or blamed it on some mundane accident, but something about being completely bare and honest about how these injuries, great or small appeared, felt like nothing they had experienced before. There was nothing to hide anymore.

It was almost like they were starting their relationship anew. Both seemed nervous and awkward while tending to the other, but there was no lack of the love that was always there. When the final benign bruise was tenderly soothed over with ointment, the moved up to the head of the bed and got under the covers.

They were quiet for some time, absently playing with each other’s fingers until questions began to timidly surface, steadily growing in confidence and comfort as they shared their lives in full with each other. Stories they never thought they’d be able to share with anyone coming to light. They laughed and cried and held each other. As exhausted as they were, they talked into the early hours of the morning. When they finally did drift off in each other’s embrace, they felt strangely weightless as if they could actually be dreaming among the clouds.

Tomorrow would be a new chapter for the family, but it was certainly going in a direction for the better. Should anyone try to trifle with that family, they would find themselves in a world of hurt.

[chaolie]

I'm a bit bored so here, an AU idea I've had for quite a while! It's essentially a zombie apocalypse AU, but with a twist involving some Gods trying to interfere! It does get long, so most of it is under the cut! Oh yeah, this also ended up Fundy-centric, but at this point is anyone even surprised?

Please keep in mind that I kinda left this summary on a cliffhanger, and it's a very angsty and painful one! It includes a death, so don't read if you don't think you can handle that right now!

So, we start with a somewhat modern setting. Most characters (Excluding Phil and all the Gods) live in the same city and have relatively normal lives. Phil lives a bit further from the city but stays in contact with his family, and the Gods have a couple of their own dimensions to reside in.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a zombie outbreak starts just a few cities away, and the news about it doesn't spread nearly fast enough. That's the first time the Gods step in.

Unfortunately, they're unable to stop the apocalypse. They never quite held that kind of power, and the world ending really threw them off, the best they could do would be to help just a few people... so they do just that.

Every single God chooses one person they want to support. They get to give them a "blessing", so essentially an advantage, and can help them in other ways too. They also make a "bet" to see whose mortal can survive the longest, but only one of them takes it seriously. Now, the Gods and their choices are:

Death decided to help Phil. She used to come down to Earth sometimes before, so they knew each other, and the choice was easy for her. She gave him wings to help him avoid dangers and find his family.

XD, the god of creation, chose Dream. Except, he had no idea what he was doing, no knowledge about mortals, and misunderstood Dream's situation. The gift he gave to Dream? Pretty neat! Any and all of his injuries will heal as long as he still has the will to keep going! The way he made sure Dream would keep going? Lies. Hope this doesn't have any horrible consequences :D

Foolish, the god of life, chose Eret. They were good friends before the world ended, so it made sense to help them! With Foolish's blessing, Eret can now find their other missing friends! It's not very accurate and they can use it once a day, but they can check which direction someone is in! Unfortunately, something weird happened with their eyes when they received the gift... but hey, at least they can see in the dark now, too!

Drista, the goddess of chaos, decided to help Tommy. She knew him from some of her visits to Earth, and he didn't seem to mind her chaos-related powers before, so she figured he'd be fine with whatever she'd offer him. He more or less was, so now he will just randomly get some items every once in a while. They tend to be useful, though!

Bad, the god of darkness, chose Skeppy. Before the apocalypse forced him to stay in the Gods' dimensions, he'd spend like 75% of his time on Earth, with Skeppy, so of course he had to help him! To protect him from any bites, he made his skin diamond!

Here's a tricky one. Overseers. Their "godhood" is a bit complicated (PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT THEM.), but in the end, they got to pick a single mortal together. They picked Jack. They didn't know him before or anything, he just seemed kinda neat. Since they still lack the power of other Gods, they could only offer him what they were "gods" of, so "strong will" and "persistence". It's not much, but hey, it's still a free advantage!

Now, you might be wondering. How the HELL is this Fundy-centric, he has not been mentioned once, what are you even doing?? Well, let me tell you more about him!

He is probably the last person alive in the city and he is absolutely alone. He spends weeks looking for someone, anyone- But everyone else fled from the city while they could. He can't find his friends, he can't find his boyfriend (yes I'm bringing fwt into this.), not even his father! He does start to slowly lose hope...

Then boom! He suddenly runs into Ranboo, who accidentally stumbled back into the city and got separated from his group! After getting him to safety, Fundy learns that actually a huge chunk of their friend group is alive and camping outside of the city. They head there the next opportunity they get.

Now Fundy's finally a part of a group! They have 7 people in total - him, Ranboo, Tubbo, Niki, Jack, Eret, and Hbomb! That also means that they have 2 people chosen by Gods in their group, so what could go wrong?

Things go wrong when they decide to head north, to another city. They hope to find supplies, survivors, or maybe even a zombie-free zone? Who knows, maybe they got the news about the apocalypse and got time to prepare?

Most of them might find out, but Fundy doesn't get that luxury. Sadly, he gets bitten halfway to the city, and the Gods told their champions what a bite means. In order to make this less painful for everyone, Fundy volunteers to leave the group and walk in a different direction.

He walks west, and after a few days, while he's barely standing, he comes across a ruined city. He wanders its streets, and it's strangely empty, strangely quiet... it's still not long before he runs into a single zombie. Before it can get him, he runs into one more thing. A person. Dream.

At first, they're both overjoyed! They found each other again! After all this time! It's so great that Dream doesn't really care how impossible this is, according to what XD told him. But when he tells Fundy about his power, about how even bites can't get him, things turn... sad. Fundy's not immune to bites, and it's too late to try anything. They can spend like a day together, sure, but after that?

They do spend that day together, catching up and ignoring the doom looming over Fundy. Unfortunately, they can't just put off death, and soon enough, the bite gets the best of him. On top of that, the pain and heartbreak of that make Dream's power more or less useless. Uh oh.

...Aaand I'm ending the summary here because it's 3 am, but you best believe the story doesn't end like this. I am dragging the fox fuck out of the afterlife whether he likes it or not, and you bet I'm going to be a bit extra about it, too! I'm just not sure if anyone is remotely interested in what I just wrote here.

If you are, please ask questions. I WANT to elaborate on almost everything here!! Ask about the characters, their groups, the gods, about what happens next!! If you ask nicely, I might even show some doodles I made for this AU a while back? So please don't hesitate from asking!

(Anon is on if you're shy btw)

[teklarn]

I NEED A PART TWO FOR BAUKGOU’S AWKWARD CONFESSION!!

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓽. 2

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

a/n: k the first one kinda blew up and i've been on tumblr for like a week and it made me rly happy receiving the requests ty <33 thank u for all the reblogs too !! this is a bit later than i hoped it would come out b/c half of the original fic was deleted by accident, but i’m on summer break until sept 5 so hopefully i’ll still update frequently. 

𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you. 

genre: lil angsty, fluffy at the end

warnings: cursing, one-sided pining, gave reader a quirk, the fighting scene is bs i cannot write action scenes at all im so sorry lol,  second hand embarrassment for our dearest dynamight :(

word count: 2507

pls don't mind any typos! i try to edit to the best of my ability but i tend to type fast and i might miss a few or a lot of things. 

- - -

read part one here my loves !!

you found yourself bored, cheeks puffing out as you swirled around the drink in your glass cup, sitting across from midoriya. he was muttering again, which you’d always found cute, however you weren’t listening this time at all. 

part of the reason you’d rejected bakugou was due to the fact midoriya had requested your attention first, and not as friends. if you’d told bakugou that, it would just wound his delicate ego on top of the fact that you truly had no interest in him whatsoever. 

at the moment, though, he was the only thing on your mind. there was no sudden spark of attraction you’d felt when he’d confessed. of course, anyone would find it flattering that the katsuki bakugou found you attractive. his standards were higher than the clouds. 

at the moment, it felt like something was blocking your chest from feeling something for him, however you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. 

“—it was amazing, right, y/n? y/n?” 

your eyes flickered up to meet the emerald, wide-eyed eyes of your friend. you contemplated lying, but it was no use. shaking your head softly and pursing your lips, you set your drink down. “i’m sorry, midoriya. i’m just kind of...out of it, i guess you could say?” 

he cocked his head to the side. “’out of it’?” he repeated. 

“yeah,” you sighed, head pounding. 

“is everything alright? maybe today isn’t the best time for this.” 

“yeah,” you agreed. “maybe.” 

“do you want to go back to the dorms?” 

you nodded, massaging your temples. “yeah, yeah let’s go home.” 

midoriya let out a soft chuckle through his nose, smiling. “alright.” he offered his hand, and you gladly let him heave you up. 

“i’m sorry about this. honestly, midoriya, i enjoy your company, i really do. but i never assumed you’d catch feelings for me too—” 

“too?” he blinked. the two of you continued on your way back to Heights Alliance. 

you gulped. “yeah, there’s—” 

“are you saying you caught feelings for me, as well?”

your eyes fell blank, lips parting in question. “no, uh. you know what? never mind.” you giggled gently in hopes the two of you would laugh it off without another thought. perhaps you should keep you and bakugou’s quiet interaction to yourself. midoriya and bakugou were already rivals enough. 

- 

the following week was agonizing in many ways. sitting beside bakugou guaranteed that you would get strange, judgmental looks. it never guaranteed his stolen glances. when you’d catch him staring, his cheeks would flare up, and you swore he had smoke puffing out his ears. 

each time, he looked as if he would explode. what can you expect from a guy like him? 

it was easy to assume you’d just pissed him off, though. you weren’t the type of person to tell everyone you’d been asked out, but you needed to speak to someone about it. the thought had been nagging you, stuck at the back of your mind but just on the tip of your tongue. 

you even found that you were distancing yourself from midoriya, who, after asking you out, had insisted you begin calling him izuku. over everyone else, you’d choose him to speak to about the matter, but ever since you’d discovered he had feelings all along, it was strange being around him. 

you viewed him differently. he shot you glimmering smiles and blushed softly when you said his first name. 

“y/n?” 

you twisted around to see mina rocking on her heels behind you. “yes?” 

“are you okay? you seem...how do i put this.” she tapped a pink finger against her lips. “off. you seem off. is everything alright?” 

your brows raised. “oh, yeah. i’m good. thanks for checking in.” 

“is there anything you want to talk about?” she adjusted her hero costume. you and the rest of the girls were currently changing for another training exercise. 

yaoyorozu fixed her hero costume. “i don’t mean to impose on anything, but i have to agree with mina, y/n. of course, there’s no pressure to tell us anything. you’re under no obligation to unless you need and want to talk to someone, but we’re here if you need us, okay?” 

you nodded, smiling softly. “thanks you guys.” 

- 

it was the same training as before, however you were able to select a partner of your own. being that there were 21 students in the class, there was always ought to be a group of three, or one person left out. you’d come into yuuei out of pure luck, as some like to put it. 

you’d found it offensive they’d assumed it was that and not your own pure skill. it’d taken a while to re-convince yourself that you were worthy of being in the class, even if you were usually the odd one out. 

most students had already bonded by the time you arrived here, so finding a partner wasn’t always easy. once you and midoriya had gotten close, you two did most things together, however at the moment, you weren’t quite feeling it. 

surprisingly, your eyes caught bakugou standing alone, eyes scanning the room for a partner. kirishima must have partnered up with another friend, then. it was always them together. 

unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough to avoid either of them. bakugou was already trotting up to you, eyes locked on your figure just as midoriya began jogging to your side. 

in perfect unison, they asked, “be my partner?” (in two very different tones, of course.) 

you blinked between them, about to answer when aizawa came up behind you three. 

“are you guys in the group of three?” your teacher deadpanned. 

your shoulders slumped. “yeah, i guess so.” 

“get to work. you’ve already wasted five minutes standing around.” 

you nodded politely. “yes, sensei.” 

you swallowed. bakugou’s crimson gaze was pinning you in your spot, and midoriya’s lips thinned with a lack of enthusiasm when bakugou looked back at him. 

“get to work, you three,” aizawa repeated, walking away. 

“i can take on both of you.” bakugou cracked his knuckles. 

you clenched your fists. “we already know you’re at the top of the class, bakugou. there’s no need to rub it in our faces.” 

he averted his eyes, cheeks flushing red. it was like a sad, silly way of letting you know you won this fight. 

“i’ll go against you two,” you said, adjusting your hero costume. 

midoriya’s eyes widened. “what? y/n, but—” 

“but i’m not strong enough?” you finished for him. you knew where they ranked in strength, and while yours was just as powerful, if you let one thing slip, your arrows would disappear and you’d be dust. “that’s exactly my point, you two are practically at the top of the class with your quirks.” 

“tch, don’t hold back,” bakugou said, readying himself. 

“don’t go easy on me,” you mocked. 

“y/n, do you really think this is a good idea—” before izuku could finish, you and bakugou launched yourselves at one another. 

you charged forwards. an arrow flew from your hand, twisting its way right through the smoke of an explosion. when it cleared, bakugou was nowhere to be seen. 

a gasp fell from your lips as you turned around just a little too late. your ears rang terribly as your back collided with the ground. 

izuku cried out. green lightning flashed, and he was at your side in a moment. “kacchan!”

you groaned, sitting up. bakugou cut through the smoke with an arm. “fight me, damned nerd. there aren’t any pauses in a real fight.” 

you wriggled yourself away from midoriya. “midoriya, you’re my enemy in this.” 

“bu—” 

“no buts. fight me. and don’t hold back.” 

midoriya noted the determination in your eyes and stood, giving you a sure nod. you were back on your feet in a second. bakugou flew in the air and came crashing down just as fast as he conjured a blast in his right hand. 

attacking wasn’t your best option right now. you were smart enough to know that. an arrow appeared flat at your back and pulled you from where bakugou was targeting. 

cement flew into the air. 

that blast could have wounded you badly. possibly killed you, if he’d hit the right spots. 

in the air, you examined their zealous features. midoriya’s brows were furrowed in that determined smolder. 

bakugou, as always, looked angry. as expected, he charged first, shooting himself into the air. his foot nearly collided with your face, missing my barely an inch. you took your shot, revealing the arrow you’d hidden behind your back. the tip collided with his chest. 

you left the arrow to complete its command and stick your blonde opponent to the wall and trap him there while you went after midoriya. 

while he bested you in strength, you did the same to him when it came to speed. you dodged his punches like they were weak attempts at hitting a ball in a park. 

you grinned. in a battle of strength and speed, whoever landed the first hit would win. there was no question. 

twisting in the air, you allowed the ball of your foot to shove midoriya to the ground. he cried out as his face was crushed into the cement. 

it was perfect timing, as bakugou ripped free of your hold, the arrow keeping him in one spot dissolving into air as soon as its purpose was lost. 

your head whipped around to see him charging for you. 

your fingers curled. the headache pounding at your temples was beginning to get hard to ignore. 

bakugou launched himself at you, spinning in the air like a missile. he really wasn’t going to howitzer you...right? 

when he didn’t slow down, you threw your body to the right, the attack just barely missing your leg. it scorched a bit of your thigh. a groan fell from your lips as you cupped the area around the burn, shuddering with pain. 

bakugou’s chest was puffed proudly as he marched up to you, hands cracking with excited explosions. 

he pulled back his right arm, ready to spark up another fight as midoriya recollected himself. you bit your lip to hide the fact you were quivering. 

it was sudden, but bakugou paused when he saw your hand fly up. 

“give me a minute...” you gasped out, skin still sizzling. 

“y/n! are you alright?” 

you didn’t respond. midoriya smacked his friend’s arm. “kacchan! what’re you thinking?”

“midoriya, i’m fine. don’t stress over it.” you limped to your feet, rejecting the extended hand from your green-haired friend. “i’ll just go see recovery girl.” 

“do you need—” 

you smacked midoriya’s hand away, a little bit more rude than you intended it to be. “i’ll be...fine.” you offered a weak smile to hopefully make up for your tiny outburst. 

although you could see in his eyes he wanted to help, midoriya nodded and stood by, hand falling back to his side. you clutched around the patch of burned skin. the sting had faded a bit, however there was a soreness to the wound that felt like a constant stabbing to your leg. 

you swallowed the pain down, marching towards the exit with determination and a bit of a limp.

you looked back to see midoriya had gone off to tell mr. aizawa what was going on. your teacher nodded, understandingly. 

there were a few worried glances and offers for help in the hall, but you’d neglected them all and found yourself relieved to see recovery girl in her office, typing away. 

she turned as the door opened. “please knock beforehand next time—oh, dear. y/n? are you alright?” 

you gave a tense nod. “mhm. just got a bit banged up in training today.” 

the old woman pursed her lips, smile lines becoming evident. “i see.” she led you to the small cot reserved for patients such as yourself and directed you to sit down. 

she examined the bruise. “it’s fairly bad. what happened?” 

you made a gesture to the door. “i was brawling with bakugou and things got...intense.” 

“that boy has quite an extreme side to him, as i’ve come to notice.” 

“mhm,” you agreed. 

“unfortunately, y/n, i have no ointments to be able to treat this properly.” 

you nodded sheepishly before the old woman smooched your cheek. a soft green glow radiated around you. 

when she pulled back, she said, “now, your body will be trying to catch up on the healing process. that’s what my quirk does. speed up recoveries. since it’s sped up, you’ll require some rest, preferably sleep. i’ll make sure your teachers know you’re excused for the rest of the day, sound good?” 

“yes, thank you recovery girl.” 

she pushed herself out of her rolling chair and left the room, smiling at you.

your eyes fluttered shut not long after that. 

- 

the sun was gone when you woke up, the hallway light flickering off. 

“good, you’re awake.” 

you looked to the left. you cried out, gathering the white sheets around yourself despite being completely clothed. “bakugou! what the hell? you stalker! you creep!” 

bakugou took the slap you gave him on his arm. it was light, and didn’t do much damage. 

“what...what do you want?” 

even in the dark, you could tell bakugou’s cheeks were burning red. “about...about the other day. i wanted to talk to you about it.” 

your chest fluttered in unwanted hope. “there’s nothing to talk about.” 

“dammit, y/n, i wish there wasn’t anything to talk about. you’re insufferable and annoying and i can’t stand being around you because no matter what’s going on, you make my chest feel all funny. it’s stupid, and i can’t take my eyes off of you.” 

heat rushed to your cheeks. “i’m flattered, really. but i-” 

“i’m not asking you to reciprocate my shitty feelings. if anything, it’s better if you don’t.” 

“bakugou, i wasn’t...” you paused. 

“you what?” he snapped, voice soft despite his tone. 

“i was going to say that ever since you...ever since you asked me out, i’ve been conflicted about my own feelings.” 

“the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“i’m not sure if i like you back or not, bakugou. but hearing you say all this...makes me want to give it a shot. sort of. also, why the hell are you watching me sleep?” 

bakugou swept hair from his eyes. “don’t go and try to change the subject on me, dumbass.” 

you gulped. 

“so what’re you saying?” 

“i’m saying,” you started, “i’m saying that maybe i want to go out on that date with you.” 

“say it again.” 

“what?” you looked up, his eyes boring into yours. 

“i said i want you to say it again. tell me you want to go out on a date with me.” 

it startled you how sure he was when he knew what you wanted, too. this was unlike the last attempt to ask you out. 

“katsuki bakugou, i want to go on a date with you.” 

he grinned. “where to?”

[povcastiel]

A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME

[ Request from @purebloodwitch : “Hi! I was thinking about a request (pretty angsty one) where Y/N didn’t know they were pregnant, and then as a result of certain events (up to you to decide), they lose the child. Then they are in the hospital and Zemo is comforting them etc.”

This developed into more than I intended. Thank you so much for choosing me to write this, I hope it was worth the wait. ]

Synopsis | It’s hard to say where it all went wrong. A marriage on the rocks, constantly living in fear. Living La Vida Loca isn’t exactly as romantic as the movies. Unfortunately for Zemo and his wife, an unexpected accident makes them reconsider their priorities.

Tags | Angst, Uncertain feelings, Being on the run, Guilt, Fighting, Minor fluff, Soft!Zemo, Husband!Zemo

Warnings | Fighting, Talk of injuries, Mentions of a miscarriage, Hospital scene, Mentions of blood, Zemo being an asshole (But the end is kinda happy if you squint.)

Word Count | 3.8k

Rating | T

Zemo’s death grip on your wrist nearly cut your circulation. Stumbling along toward the front door, wide open to reveal the awaiting vehicle. The car’s head lights blared at you, blinding you momentarily. Finally, he released you at the threshold.

“I’m not leaving. Not again!” You cried. Your husband’s expression was hard to read, but you were certain of his short fuse.

He tossed the duffle bag in his right hand into the trunk, which contained other suitcases that withheld your belongings and his own. He’d been insistent and unrelenting. It was dire that you leave unless you wanted to watch him be taken away again. Despite the massive risk it was to stay in Prague, you simply could not bear the thought of running once again.

The fighting between you and Helmut had become almost constant. He often didn’t sleep in bed with you anymore. Opting for the couch and even then, he wasn’t managing much rest. Neither were you.

This had been your fear for the last several years. Well aware you couldn’t keep the demons at bay forever. Knowing well enough, that Zemo’s deeds would circle back to you in the cruelest of ways. Despite this, you and him both went on. Using each other, your vessel, as a means to forget the road ahead.

At first it was easy.

Helmut, given he was a Baron, had the means to keep you both comfortable. You traveled light and for a while, it seemed like constant honeymoon bliss. Your destinations were beautiful, hidden in plain sight, and most importantly… you were with him.

But that was before. When the entire world wasn’t scouring the earth for your husband and when your faces were untraceable, unnoticeable. These days you barely left the house. Only for basic necessities and there was always a plan B, C, and D. As anyone could imagine, running had become exhausting. Especially now that you felt more far away from Helmut than you ever had.

“Y/N, I don’t find it necessary for me to put you in this car, but if I must…” Helmut‘s voice was tired.

His implications infuriated you. To your dismay, you knew arguing with him was futile. He was never one to raise his voice, to use his force in situations. Although, his ability to constantly control his emotions had driven you mad at times.

You reluctantly succumbed to your fate of, yet again, leaving another place in which you’d come to call home. It hurt. You had made wonderful memories here. If it hadn’t been for the last two weeks, you would have been certain you and Zemo were on the right path. That had all come to a screeching halt.

His knuckles were white, holding the steering wheel as if his life depended on it. You were relatively close to the nearest airport. Oeznik being alerted of the situation. The jet prepared and ready to go.

The sleeping city passed by you. Its colorful homes, cobble stone streets, and charming avenues disappearing—swallowed by the night.

You had grown tired of the silence. Your temper flaring again. This was unlike you. Your emotions felt uncontrollable. More so in the last few days. Helmut had noticed but assumed your nerves had given you reason to act out.

“If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t even be in this mess! I suppose you wish to evade normalcy for as long as we both shall live.” Tears were brimming your eyes now.

“Darling, if you wish to discuss blame, then let’s-“

“Don’t patronize me. I am your wife.” You spat, giving him little room to compromise.

Helmut sighed heavily through his nostrils.

“It is my duty to protect you. That is what I’m doing. Or at least attempting to, but you’re making that rather difficult.” He finally defended himself.

“You say that, but we never face the fire. We run! City to city. Home after home. I want a life. To be seen with you…” You were breaking at the seams and Helmut could tell.

He knew you better than anyone, but the fire brewing between the two of you had erupted.

“They would kill me!” He practically hissed. “Surrendering at this point wouldn’t benefit either of us. My crimes have erased any hope of a fairytale. Something you were well aware of.”

He shot you a glance then. That godforsaken head tilt.

“I hate you!” You cried then.

Three words you did not mean. Though you had to release something, anything.

“Don’t be ridiculous…”

“It’s true! I hate you! And I hate this life with you!” It was just to hurt him.

Just to make him feel the immense pain you felt, in that moment. The crashing waves of reality were already drowning you.

“After everything…” Still eerily calm, your husband’s hands clenched around the wheel of the car. “You fucking hate me?”

Finally, Helmut had broke too.

The fire roared. Awakening something deep within both of you. Like caged animals. Your screaming match filled the small confines of the car. Both of you entirely distracted by your heated argument. Useless and empty threats. Hurtful truths that would be hard to undo later.

When you tore away from his face. Long enough to catch sight of the road, headlights stared back at you. No time to warn Helmut. He had discovered the error too late, himself.

The cars collided. An airbag leaving you dead to the world, Helmut barely hanging on to his own consciousness. The sound of a car horn blared in his ears. He felt the rush of blood, tasting it on his tongue. His head turned over, a miracle he hadn’t broken his neck. Lifeless you laid, pinned to your seat, your legs and abdomen crushed.

Desperation seized him entirely. He couldn’t lose you. Not now. Not ever. His strength was gone. He reached for you in his final attempt before the darkness took him.

When Helmut had come to again, his surroundings were much different. A dull ache penetrated his skull, his eyes weak and throbbing by the white light above his bed. A monitor was beeping softly nearby, keeping track of his vitals and heartbeat. He groaned, deeply in his chest and began to sit up.

He was lucky to be intact. No broken bones, possibly fractured ribs, and a bloody nose. Aside from a few scrapes, Zemo was nearly unscathed from the accident.

He wasn’t worried with himself though, as he began pulling himself loose from tubes and cords. A nurse came in then, alerted by the other patient in the shared space. He was on his feet then, pulling back the curtain drawn beside him. The bed was empty.

“Where is my wife?” Was his first question to the brunette, who was busy attempting to usher him back into bed.

“Sir, I need you to lay back down. You should rest.” She insisted.

She intended to go on into further detail, to explain his injuries and what had happened. Helmut was not going to listen.

“I asked you a question. Are you simply incompetent or do you truly have no idea?” She looked up to him then.

She scoffed a moment. His heavy gaze nearly making her uncomfortable. A husband distraught and fearing the worst, not her first time experiencing this type of behavior. Unfortunately, Zemo was a patient she wouldn’t be able to handle.

“She got out of surgery about an hour ago. You’ve been sedated a while. I don’t believe she’s awake.”

“I wish to see her. Now.” He demanded.

The nurse sighed heavily. Another glance over his expression and she had been defeated in convincing him to rest. When it came to you, Helmut wouldn’t rest. He couldn’t lay peacefully , in a hospital of all places, knowing you were alone and isolated. Helpless and injured. You needed him and he would be there.

You were not far from him and that settled his nerves slightly. The nurse stopped at the door.

“The doctor should be in soon.” She informed him.

He did not acknowledge her statement, which was enough to bid her farewell. She left him then. The door soon shutting behind him. It was darker in this room. Neatly tucked beneath your sheets, you laid soundly. Machines surrounding you, a nasal cannula giving you oxygen. Cuts and abrasions covered your skin and that was only from what he could see. Truly, it nearly caused him to collapse.

Helmut approached the bed slowly. A silver band left on your ring finger. He looked to his own and then did he begin to feel the cool whips of anguish. The last few weeks, months even, flooding back with a vengeance. He had taken it all for granted. Most of all, he neglected you and your marriage. He’d come so close to losing you, the possibility still lingering, that it brought Helmut to tears.

“I’d like to think of it as our second honeymoon.” He raised a glass of champagne to his lips, snug in a bath robe and relaxed on the massive bed.

You turned away from the cool breeze of the night’s air. Retreating to the bedroom to find your husband. A smug smile on his lips.

“I wouldn’t exactly call this a honeymoon. We are running for our lives after all.” You quipped but couldn’t help the smile stretching across your face.

You were happy.

“And yet, here you are… all mine.” He grinned, taking another sip from his glass flute.

You proceeded to crawl onto the bed. The soft comforter touching your bare legs. His t-shirt hanging loosely on your body. You plopped beside Helmut. His hair was wet, cologne still musky against his damp skin. A gold necklace dangled at his chest. You moved in, laying your head where his shoulder met his chest. Your fingers toyed with the chain.

“Schatz…” That endearing nickname falling off his tongue like refreshing water. Which you were so willing to drink. To quench your thirst.

“Mm?” You hummed softly, still preoccupied by his jewelry.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” His voice husked; his nose buried into your hair.

“That I never want this to end…” You confessed.

Your heart was aching then. Longing for the simpler days, but these quiet moments would have to subdue your yearning. After all, Helmut wasn’t hauled up in a prison. He wasn’t halfway around the world. He was here, with you. For now, that would please your heart. In the depths of all your history, you were certain Zemo to be the one and only. Even given your differences. His stubbornness and unforgiving nature at times seemed nearly unbearable, at least to someone on the outside. To you… He was yours. The world had only known a fraction of the truth, which is often how history writes.

This you feared. For your life with Helmut wouldn’t be remembered for your loving glances, Royal galas spent on his arm, lavish trips spent abroad, and having children somewhere in between.

No, he would be written as a monster. His wife loyal till the end. Leaving the average person to ponder your sanity and what on earth you’d seen in a man as evil as Baron Helmut Zemo.

“I’m surprised. Surely by how spaced out you seemed; I could only conclude you dreamt of me.”

There it was. His ego dripping off every word and still somehow managing a semblance of charm.

Your head lifted and gave him an unamused expression, though teetering on the edge of a smile. It was then that he kissed you, capturing your lips with fervor. You moaned almost instantly, his lips still slick with alcohol. Though you could’ve intoxicated yourself silly with his sober kisses alone.

You broke away for air. The two of you holding each other’s gaze.

“What now?” You asked, though the question had many translations, Helmut knew what you’d meant.

A faint grin touched his features, not enough to brighten them. His gaze faltered, lowering to your lips and back up again several times.

“We live the life we want. Together…”

Opening your eyes was the first difficult task of many to come. A searing pain engulfed you, head pounding, and your body racked with agony. Slowly but surely it started to all piece together. Your mind forming small bits, like a puzzle, fitting together at ends and odds.

Even with your great amount of pain, distress overcame you.

Helmut. Where was Helmut?

You were nearly to yell, beckon for someone, when your eyes landed on a figure out of your peripheral. Slumped in a chair, your husband was asleep. He’d rid himself of the medical blue gown and exchanged it for a pair of sweatpants and a familiar gray sweater, layered overtop a black shirt.

You reached for the railing, attempting to pull yourself up. Your grasp fumbled, as a shot of pain spread through your body. Attempting to muffle your noises failed, you cried out as you fell back against the thin mattress. Which you would have argued was only worsening your injuries.

Helmut had awoken then, almost as if he had been pretending to sleep. On his feet in seconds, you don’t think you’d seen Helmut so attentive—at least not for a long while.

“Don’t move. The Doctor will be coming to see you soon.” It was an order.

You glanced to him. If looks could kill.

You tried to sit up again, this time Zemo was there to help you. He mumbled something under his breath. A smart remark you were sure of it. Unfortunately, you found no recoil left in you.

He grabbed the styrofoam cup from the sliding table. With a steady hand, he held the cup of water up to your lips. You parted your lips, cracked and dry. Anyone would’ve been embarrassed to be seen in such a state. Years of marriage made it less humiliating. Though lying in a hospital may not have been deemed degrading, more so terrifying.

“We can’t stay here.” You finally croaked.

You pushed his hand away, as he returned the water to its original place. He pressed his lips together then.

“We must, you are in no shape to go anywhere.” Helmut reminded and you knew there would be no arguing. That method hadn’t exactly accomplished anything. Hence your new surroundings.

Maybe not entirely what you wanted, but there was gratification in the fact that you weren’t hiding now. You felt seen with Helmut. The nurses and doctors were aware of your status. Husband and wife. In its own fucked up way, this was the normalcy you craved.

A man in white interrupted your fleeting conversation. He held a clip board in his hand and a folder, containing what you could only assume was information of you.

“Mrs. Zemo…” He peered over the rim of his glasses. “Mr. Zemo.” He addressed. Helmut didn’t dare move from his close proximity to you.

The doctor gestured to you then, “May I?”

Helmut was reluctant, but he obliged, and gave the professional permission to look you over. He gave a warm grin, though it did little to ease your increasing anxiety.

“You’ve suffered a great deal of injuries, which I will go over in a moment, but first I’d like to address another matter.” He stated. A grave look replaced his once solemn demeanor.

You waited then. Helmut just as tuned in for what the doctor would have to say.

“I am truly sorry to inform the both of you, that your baby did not survive with the extent of your injuries.” His eyes moved between you and Zemo then.

His statement seemed to come out as if it were obvious. You turned to Helmut and back to the doctor. Your emotions began to cycle wildly. Should you cry? Should you be relieved? Is that even possible?

“I’m sorry. I think you’re mistaken.” You spoke up then. As Helmut couldn’t find any words.

If matters weren’t already bad enough, your heart sunk and along it went with Helmut as he exited out of the door. Your eyes weld with tears.

“I understand how difficult this must be. I’m truly sorry.” The doctor extended his condolences once more.

“How far?” You asked through tears.

The older gentleman’s brows furrowed with slight confusion. Only then had he realized by your own bewilderment, that you were not aware of the pregnancy.

‘Eight weeks,’ was his next statement. A truth that crushed you entirely. To think it was considered a fetus. Growing in your belly with purpose and you simply hadn’t a clue yet. When you began to cry a second time, the doctor decided to come back later. He did take a few notes before he left, while you remained completely oblivious in your own grief.

Losing a child. It had more weight to it than you ever anticipated. It would explain your mood the last several weeks. Your odd cravings when Helmut had been out of the house. In the midst of all the chaos, your trials with your husband, you failed to realize the significance of your changes. That wasn’t important. Surviving was crucial.

Helmut didn’t stay gone long. The door softly clicking shut and your head shot up, with horrible consequences of pain. He looked to have been crying himself, but you truly couldn’t tell in the blur of your tears. He approached the bed then.

So this is what it took.

Helmut sat at the edge of the bed and drew you in. You had no reason to be angry. Any and all quarrels you had with him vanished. Your priorities changing, as you wept into his chest. He cradled your head, engulfing you in strong arms. If it hadn’t been for his presence, you would’ve surely come undone.

You had been brought to the realization of how drastic things had become. How it all slipped so easily from your grasp. You didn’t recognize each other. Helmut guilty of his own neglect to his wife and you failing to express concern. To express yourself at all, until it had been too late.

Needless to say, you forgave each other without words. You pulled back, to find your husband’s eyes. The same brown eyes that brought you solace in the darkest of times.

“meine Geliebte, Forgive me…” He whispered.

His hands held your cheeks, thumbs stroking the damp skin beneath your eyes. He was wiping your tears.

Gently and with ease, he kissed you.

His forehead came to press against your own. Your hands held his forearms, eyes closed. One thing you were certain… you could never be without him.

Despite all your worries and fears, Helmut and you would always fall back together again. Only this time, Zemo had his own awakening. The possibility to share a different kind of life with you.

“Please…” The words struggled on your tongue, but it was enough for Helmut to understand.

You shifted. Your body close to one edge of the bed, as he turned and laid back himself. His arm draped around you and you effortlessly leaned against his chest, while he crossed his ankles at the end of the bed.

“I’m sorry, Helmut.” His name leaving your lips made his heart swell.

“I know, Y/N. I’m sorry too.”

You were silent then. Not uncomfortably though. You pondered over the last few years, weeks, days, and minutes. There was a sudden perception. The warmth in his arms. A secure safeness in how he embraced you.

All those houses, empty and bare, you filled your memories in what was nothing but walls and rooms. They would’ve meant nothing without him. Your Helmut.

No matter where you went, what life had thrown at you, you would always be home. So long as you had him.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” His request often, helpless to worry in your deep silence.

“That I wish the world could see you for how I do.” You answered honestly.

Your arm laid over his abdomen. His chest rising and falling with each subtle inhale and exhale of air.

Another moment of pause.

“A pretentious asshole? Or a handsome Baron?”

There it was again. You could never escape that witty banter of his.

“Maybe both. You’re quite the charming asshole.” You teased him then, a genuine smile spreading across your face, which was still flush against him.

Another wave of silence passed. So much to say and so little time. Something more important needed to be brought forward.

“Helmut, I didn’t know about the baby. I hope you don’t think I was keeping that from you.” You pointed out the elephant in the room.

He seemed to have gone stiff then but did not dare move away. He only seemed pained by it. The loss hurting him as much as it did you.

“I wouldn’t blamed you if you had.”

His confession surprised you. As you would have assumed Helmut to be upset over such matters. You sat up then. Situated to look up at him. By the look in his eyes, he was absolutely sincere.

You looked at each other for a long while. “Helmut…” You grabbed his face then.

He didn’t answer, merely gave you his attention. Eyes forward and looking into your own. So easily he seemed to reach inside and see every part of you. Even now you were in amazement by him.

“Where you go. I go.” You began. “This hasn’t been easy, for either of us, but I still would never keep anything from you.”

He listened still and even in the fluorescent glow above his head, he was damningly beautiful. Exhausted, dark circles rimming his eyes. Salt and pepper stubble covering his face.

“Do you remember the hotel in Berlin?” He asked softly.

You nodded, “Of course I remember the hotel in Berlin.” You gave a small smile. Cherishing those moments, you could recall so dearly.

“What did I tell you?” He tilted his head then, examining you with adornment, his eyes still troubling.

Your eyes flickered and you shook your head, at a loss for answers. Many things had been said, many things had been done.

“You asked me what was to happen next. ‘What now?’ more specifically.” He spoke clearly, each word with calculated reason. “I told you that we would live the life we wanted.” He finished, this time taking your hand.

His thumb turned the silver band around your finger. Helmut concentrated for a moment, before he lifted his eyes to yours again.

“Well, today, I’m making that my mission.” He nodded; lips pressed together.

You hugged him then. His arms carefully enveloping you, as he was sure not to hurt you. You buried your face into the crook of his neck.

“We can’t stay here long.” You reminded him.

“I know, Schatz, just let me hold you a while longer…”

[capricorn-stark]

Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn 

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read! 

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of. 

Ever. 

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave. 

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets. 

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you. 

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you. 

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”  

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.” 

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere. 

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.” 

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?” 

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.” 

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.” 

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.” 

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand. 

“And what about it?” 

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama. 

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.” 

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts. 

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.” 

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?” 

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching. 

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little. 

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.” 

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps. 

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea. 

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you. 

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.” 

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually. 

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing. 

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung. 

[selfignitingimagines]

Derek- I Think I Can Handle It

A/N- Well this was supposed to come out before Halloween, but spooky season is just a state of mind anyway. I’ve been doing a season 3 rewatch and angsty Derek is *chef’s kiss*. I hope you guys enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

Request- Hey :D! For the fall prompts, how about number 7 with Derek? Idk if you’ve done it before but it seems kinda fitting for him, thank you!

Derek sat inside his car, staring out through the windshield. He could see the shadow of the house looming in the darkness. It was barely visible, even with the moonlight shining down through the trees. 

He didn’t need to see it to know that it was deteriorating. Month after month, the burnt husk of his old home would sag further under the weight of dead leaves and fallen tree limbs. The wood continued to rot from the moisture and, inevitably, some stupid kids would trek out into the preserve to the see the sight of the worst thing that had ever happened to him. 

Every. Goddamn. Year.

It usually happened around Halloween, when the urge to be scared overcame the local population. Not that they needed it. Beacon Hills was scary enough as it was, although most people didn’t seem to realize it. 

He would never be able to understand why regular people continued to live in this town, raising their kids and commuting to work while monsters lurked around every corner.

Then again, it was probably for the same reason he didn’t demolish the old house. He just couldn’t let go. 

He reached for the thermos he kept in the center console. It was filled with chamomile tea he had brewed shortly before he left the loft. Lydia had told him once that it was supposed to be calming.

He was just about to take a sip when, like clockwork, a beam of light began to shine through the woods in front of him. It was headed right for the house. 

Derek sighed and set the thermos back down. So much for being calm.

He silently slipped out of the car and headed toward the light. He would go around the house on the other side and wait until the person passed. There, he would hide in the bushes and let out a feral growl. Without fail, the trespassers would freak out and run. 

As Derek headed down the hill from where he had parked the car, he smiled to himself. If they wanted to be scared, he would give them just that. 

He watched as the flashlight moved up toward the porch. Before he could take another step, the sound of wood splintering echoed up the hill. He heard a scream, and the unmistakable snap of human bone.

“Shit,” he muttered.

------

15 MINUTES EARLIER

“You cannot be serious.”

Your stomach churned as the car rolled to a stop. The headlights cast a glow on the old wooden sign at the edge of the woods. The printed words on it were faded and nearly scratched off. You could just barely make out them out. 

Beacon Hills Preserve.

Danny Mahealani looked over at you from the driver’s seat and grinned. “Deadly serious.”

“This is my dare? Go into the preserve at night?” you asked incredulously. “Do you know how many dead bodies they’ve found here?”

He rolled his brown eyes. “Duh. It wouldn’t be scary if they hadn’t. But you can’t just go into the preserve. That would be too easy.”

“What else do I have to do?”

“Find the abandoned Hale House and bring me back something to prove you were there.”

You swallowed nervously. You were beginning to regret coming home after graduation. 

Since it was the night before Halloween, Danny had insisted you play games in the spirit of the holiday, something he called “Mischief Night”. 

“I thought it was called Devil’s night,” you had pointed out earlier that day.

Danny had waved his hand as he sat on the edge of your bed.“Devil’s Night, Mischief Night, whatever. It doesn’t matter. But we’re both off tomorrow, and I want to do something fun for once!”

“By playing truth or dare?”

“Yeah, but the stakes are upped. If you don’t do something, you have to prank someone.”

“I think you miss high school a little too much.”

“I just miss pranking Coach Finstock.”

“Fine, if it makes you feel better, we can play. As long as I get to crack open a bottle of wine after.”

Now, as you were sitting in the passenger seat of his Toyota, wondering why you had offered to go first. 

“This is stupid,” you told Danny. “Isn’t the Hale House private property? And didn’t it pretty much burn to the ground? What happens if a rafter falls on my head or something?”

“Oh come on, if you die, you don’t have to pay off your student loans.”

“True,” you muttered. “But that doesn’t mean I want to.”

“Y/n,” Danny complained. “You work at a grocery store. Your degree means nothing and you’re not dating anyone. You literally have no excitement in your life. Don’t you wanna live a little?”

You huffed. He had a point. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only this one.”

“You don’t want to give me a dare?”

“Unlike you, I don’t enjoy trying to get my friends killed.”

Danny simply shrugged and handed you a flashlight he had pulled from the center console. 

“It shouldn’t be that far. The old driveway should be about half a mile into the woods.”

You shook your head in disbelief and got out of the car. Just as you stepped over the chain hanging over the path, Danny rolled down his window.

“Get me a piece of burned wood or something so I know you actually did it!”

“You’re a dick!” you yelled back.

You trekked into the woods nonetheless.

Danny was right. It was easy enough to find the old gravel driveway as you crunched through dead leaves. From there, it seemed to take forever to walk up to the house. The Hales had been prominent figures in town before they died, but they clearly enjoyed their privacy.

When you finally made it to the burnt shell of the house, you stared up at it in awe. While it was dark, the moon outside illuminated its hulking form. It was practically a mansion, or at least it had been at one point in time.

You shined your flashlight onto the structure, illuminating the charred walls and window frames. The glass over the windows was either broken or completely missing, and the only thing that looked like it might have been touched up was the front door. The red paint on it looked to only be a few years old, though it was scratched up a bit.

You wondered why someone would only paint the door and not try to fix anything else. Maybe they started a project that they didn’t have the heart to finish. If it were your entire family that died in that house, you weren’t sure you would be able to come back to the property at all. 

The death of the Hale family was a gruesome part of Beacon Hills’ history, and that was saying something. Even for a town that seemed to be plagued by murders and suspicious deaths, Kate Argent burning an entire family alive was one of the worst things that had ever happened there.

It sent a chill down your spine just thinking about what it must have been like to die in that way. You looked around, trying to find something you could bring back to Danny. This place was starting to freak you out. 

You shined the flashlight up onto the porch and noticed a loose scrap of wood that must have broken off a window pane. It was small enough to carry in one hand, and looked like it was still stained with soot. 

You stepped up onto the porch steps, but before you could get to the top, the wood caved in from underneath you. Your right foot went straight through the rotted board and hit the earth beneath at an odd angle. You felt a sharp, stabbing pain so intense that your vision went black for a few moments. 

When you opened your eyes, you were on the ground, lying in a pile of damp leaves and rotten wood. With a groan, you pulled yourself onto your side. When you tried to move, you gasped in pain. There was something wrong with your ankle. 

You glanced around, looking desperately for the flashlight Danny had given you. It must have rolled a few feet away when you fell, but you could just barely grasp it with your fingers. 

You snatched it from the dirt and shined it onto the end of your leg. What you saw made you gag. It was purple and swollen, and twisted at an odd angle. You had probably broken it.

“Shit,” you gasped.

You fumbled for your phone, pulling it out of your jacket pocket. You attempted to call Danny, but you quickly realized there was no signal in the woods. 

Derek watched from nearby as you pulled yourself up. He was surprised to see that you didn’t look as young as he thought you would be. You definitely weren’t a teenager. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered to yourself. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

Derek’s lips twitched. “Agreed.”

You jumped, wincing in pain from the sudden movement of your ankle.

When you shined the flashlight over toward the voice, you could see a man standing a few yards away in the dead leaves. He had on jeans and a leather jacket, but he was shielding his face from the light. 

“Can you stop shining that into my eyes?”

“Oh my god, sorry.”

You tilted it down, and he pulled out a light of his own. Judging by the shape, he was using his phone flashlight.

He walked over and knelt next to you, examining the state of your ankle. “Yeah. I’d say that was pretty stupid. You know this is private property, don’t you?”

You swallowed nervously. He didn’t seem angry, but his voice was stern. He couldn’t have been that much older than you, and it was embarrassing to have another adult look so disappointed in you. 

“I wasn’t sure,” you told him honestly. “Look, I’m really sorry.”

He knelt down next to you, and you were able to see his face clearly. He had a scruffy beard and light-colored eyes, though you couldn’t be sure of the exact color in the dark. He looked like he was in his late twenties.

That was when you realized you knew who the man was. It was Derek Hale...and he had just caught you trespassing in the place where his entire family died.

“You look a little old to be breaking into abandoned houses.”

“I wasn’t trying to break in,” you protested. “It was a dare…and that doesn’t make it sound any better.”

He simply stared at you with one bushy eyebrow raised. 

“You’re right,” you said. “It was stupid.”

Derek nodded. Out of all the years he had scared people off the property, no one had ever gotten hurt there. He felt a sinking feeling in his chest, wondering if that meant it was finally time to tear it down. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I...uh, yeah. Sorry. We should probably get you out of here.”

He looked down at your face, and suddenly got the bizarre feeling that he knew you. He must have seen you somewhere before, maybe around town. 

“You’re not going to call the cops are you?” you asked hesitantly.

That was when it hit him. You did look familiar, but it wasn’t because he had seen you before at all. 

“Do you know Stiles Stilinski?”

You groaned. “He’s my cousin.”

Derek laughed softly. “I’m guessing you two aren’t close?”

“Not really. To be honest, I think he’s kind of annoying.”

“He’s actually a good friend of mine,” Derek admitted.

You flushed. “Oh, um, sorry.”

Great, you thought to yourself. You had trespassed on this guy’s property and now you were insulting his friend. You were surprised he hadn’t already left you there to hobble back to the car alone.

“But he is annoying.”

He smiled at you, and you felt your shoulders sag in relief. 

“Did you drive here?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “No, my friend Danny drove us. He’s waiting by the entrance. You know, the one with the Jurassic Park looking sign?”

“I know it. I can take you.”

He reached down, and before you realized what was happening, he scooped you up bridal style. “Put your arms around my neck.”

Awkwardly, you listened to him, wrapping your arms around him. You clung to the smooth leather of his jacket as he carried you up the hill, a little worried that he wouldn’t make it up the slope of the hill with you in his arms.

“Don’t worry. I won’t drop you.”

It was as if he could tell exactly what you were thinking. 

“Are you sure? Because I can definitely try to walk…”

He couldn’t help but tease you.

“Are you scared?”

“Of you dropping me down this hill and breaking another bone? Yes!”

Derek suppressed the urge to burst out laughing. Maybe you  had more in common with Stiles than you thought.

“Just hold on to me,” he said. “Besides, you’re shivering anyway.”

Though you hadn’t realized it, you were trembling from the cold. Your clothes were damp from the wet ground, and it was unseasonably cold, even for Beacon Hills. 

You hated to admit it, but Derek’s jacket was warm, and he was even warmer. The heat radiating from his chest made you want to snuggle in and fall asleep. 

You immediately felt embarrassed, suddenly aware that this guy was practically a stranger, and that you were having these thoughts about him after you had trespassed on his property. He was probably going to drive you straight to the police station once you got out of the woods. 

“I’m not going to call the cops on you,” he said, as if he could sense your anxiety. “Isn’t the Sheriff your uncle anyway?”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” you admitted. “I can’t have another person thinking I’m a fuck up.”

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You went red, shocked that you were being so honest with someone you didn’t even know. 

“Why do you say that?” Derek asked thoughtfully.

You remained silent for a few moments, but for whatever reason, you felt like he might be able to understand. 

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” you admitted. “I just graduated with a degree in English and everyone is saying I made a mistake. My whole family is disappointed in me.”

“Were you doing it because that was what you wanted?”

“Yeah. I’ve always loved words and books. I thought maybe I could be a writer, but obviously it’s not that easy...and now I work at a grocery store. Everybody is telling me that I should have done something else.”

Derek smiled to himself. “I have an English degree.”

You blinked. “You do?”

“Yeah. My dad always loved the classics. I guess he passed that onto me, so when I left town and went to New York, that’s what I majored in.”

“And no one ever criticized you for it?”

“Oh definitely. At that point I just didn’t care.”

“Huh.That’s cool.”

“Have you ever thought about teaching?”

“In Beacon Hills? Yeah. But all our teachers seem to have a habit of disappearing or dying.”

“But if that wasn’t the case?”

“I think I’d like it. Getting to teach kids to love English would be cool...you know, despite the low survival rate.”

Derek laughed. A few yards ahead, you could see Danny’s headlights shining through the trees. 

“I think you should look into it.”

Before you could respond, Danny’s voice called out through the trees. 

“Y/n?! Is that you?”

He was standing at the edge of the woods as Derek’s flashlight beam began to shine out through the trees. When he saw the light coming toward him, he let out a sigh of relief. For the last few minutes, he thought he might have actually gotten you killed. 

Then, as Derek stepped into the pool of light cast by the car’s headlights, Danny’s jaw dropped. 

“Hey,” you said. 

He stood there, looking from you to Derek. “Uh...you wanna fill me in?”

“I went through a porch.”

“Um, okay…”

Danny continued to stare at Derek, and you couldn't help but feel like the two of them knew each other. Maybe Danny had recognized him from all the news about the fire, but how would Derek have known Danny?

“You need to take her to the hospital,” Derek told him. “I think she broke her ankle.”

Danny stood there for a few moments, still staring, until Derek raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you gonna open the door or not?”

Danny scrambled for the door handle and pulled it open. You gave him a questioning look, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. 

Derek set you down gently in the passenger seat. You flinched at the pain as your foot touched the floor, but you were distracted by the sight of Derek stripping off his jacket. 

“What are you doing?”

“Here,” he offered, holding it out to you. “You’re still cold.”

He was wearing an olive green henley underneath, but it didn’t look nearly thick enough to shelter him from the chill.

“Won’t you be cold when you walk back through the woods?”

He shrugged. “I think I can handle it.”

He gestured for you to hold out your arms. You felt your cheeks growing warm again as he leaned in and wrapped the jacket around you. He buttoned it up to your chin, then smoothed out the lapels. 

When you looked up at him, there was a softness in his green eyes that he hadn’t had while talking to Danny. He smiled at you, revealing a set white teeth with a slight overbite.

“How will I get it back to you?” you asked. 

He shrugged. “I’ll find you. Plus Danny has my number.”

You blinked. “He does?”

“Yeah, he can explain that one to you himself.”

Before you could respond, Derek turned away with a smile and shut the door. He walked around to the other side of the car and placed one hand on Danny’s shoulder. While it looked innocent enough to you as you watched through the window, he was squeezing Danny’s scapula hard enough to break it. 

Danny grunted in pain as Derek pulled him closer. 

“You know what’s in these woods,” he hissed. “Why the hell would you send her out there alone?”

“I thought it was safe. Nothing’s happened in months!”

“You could have gotten her killed.”

“Okay, I get it!”

“If you ever do something like this again, I’m gonna rip your throat out.”

“Okay!” Danny cried. “I swear it won’t happen again.”

Derek let go of him. “Good.”

Danny began to rub his shoulder, wincing at the movement.

“God, Stiles was right,” he muttered.  “You are dramatic.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Take her to the hospital...and give her my number.”

He shot Derek a sullen look and opened the driver side door. “Fine. I’m sure I’ll see you later, Miguel.”

Derek suppressed the urge to burst out laughing. As Danny drove you away, he could hear you peppering him with questions.

 “What was he talking about? And who’s Miguel?”

He watched Danny’s tail lights disappear down the desolate road. He waited until their glow faded and then headed back into the preserve, thinking about you the entire walk back. 

When he got back into the car, the first thing he did was text Stiles.

I need your cousin’s phone number.

[arvandus]

CONGRATS ON 500 OMG 🎉🎉🎉 IT'S MORE THAN DESERVED!!!!

Can I put in a request for All Might, #35 with a fluff ending?

Sooo.... I’m gonna be honest, I was so excited when I saw this request because.... angsty dialogue with a happy ending?  That shit is my jam.  And with All Might?  Perfect.

 A couple things before we get started: I went with All Might in his skinny form, cuz the prompt lends itself to that (so sorry if you were hoping for buff Might!) Also, took the artistic liberty of giving reader a healing quirk for this one called ‘Cat’s Cradle.’ You’ll (hopefully) see why it’s called that when you read it…

 I hope you enjoy, and sorry it’s taken so long to get this out!

 Um... Warnings: Blood (sorry, it’s Yagi... kinda a given), angst + happy ending

 Word Count: 3,223 and no regrets!

35. “I can’t sit here and watch you destroy yourself.”

 There was a familiar knock at your door, and in an instant you knew exactly who it was.  Your teeth clenched, your jaw stiffened.

 You weren’t going to answer it. Not this time.

 Knock knock knock

 You waited, frozen, unwilling to move, yet listening intently.  The sound of wet, guttural coughing reverberated through the wooden barrier.

 God damn it.

 When it came to a certain world-famous hero, it didn’t really take much for you to give up your resolve. ��You made your way to the door and peeked through the peephole.  Yagi supported himself with one hand against the door frame as his other hand clutched at his chest.  The front of his shirt was bunched in his grasp, blood coating his pale hands and the white fabric beneath it.  A curse fell from your lips as your hands unlatched the lock on your door, swinging it wide open.

 Yagi looked up at you with grateful blue eyes, sunken deep into dark pits. His wild, blond hair stuck to his ashen face with sweat, his brow furrowed in pain.

 “Hey,” he greeted with a lighthearted grin.

 “Jesus Christ, Yagi…” you growled.

 You grabbed him by the elbow and ushered him into your space before closing and locking the door behind you.

 There was no time to rush him into the bathroom like you normally did.  Instead, you had him sit in a dining chair and began to peel off his blood-soaked shirt.  Just as the fabric lifted off his head, another round of coughing doubled him over, blood splattering the tiled floor.

 “Shit…” Yagi muttered.

 “Don’t worry about it.” You replied.  But it was hardly convincing.  Your tone was cold and hard with frustration.

 You weren’t mad about the floor, though… honestly, you couldn’t have cared less. What mattered was the man currently looking like he was on Death’s doorstep.  It pained you to see him so clearly suffering, his skin covered in sweat and blood even as he tried to smile reassuringly at you.  It didn’t matter how bright his smile was; it held little weight against the scar carved into his side, or the atrophy that stretched over his bones.

 Your heart couldn’t handle much more of this.

 Gently, you pressed your hands against the front of Yagi’s shoulders until he was sitting up, back straight.  Even without his buff form, Yagi was tall.  With your body so close to his, you could feel his ragged breath on your cheek, hear the air rattling from his lungs like leaves.  You couldn’t help but look him in the eyes then, and a faint flush crept across his sallow cheeks that made your own skin feel hot.

 “Stay still.” You instructed.

 You carefully placed one hand in front of his chest and the other behind his back, your fingertips hovering over his body.  Glowing, translucent-white threads emanated from your fingers, passing through him to connect together deep within his lungs. Slowly, you began weaving, fingers dancing and flicking like a game of Cat’s Cradle as your quirk stitched and healed the damaged tissue.  It was painstaking work, what was left of his lungs already in poor condition, and the more he pushed himself past his limits, the harder it was to repair what he’d repeatedly broken.  Sweat beaded your brow as you worked, your hands moving meticulously.  One wrong move, one wrong stitch…

 But you’d done this countless times over the years.  It was nearly second nature to you now… you knew his body nearly as well as your own.  You stared at the glistening red staining from his lips to his chest as you worked, your vision blurred as you focused on your quirk’s senses.

 Slowly, you could hear Yagi’s ragged breaths begin to improve.  His gasps for air filled deeper into his chest, expanding his rib cage.  His exhales followed clean and steady.  The tension in his face relaxed, his brow smoothing over as he closed his eyes.

 Finally, you broke the connection and slumped into your own chair, exhaustion overtaking you.  It was far from perfect, but it was the best you could do given his level of deterioration. You watched Yagi take a few more deep, experimental breaths before he looked up at you.  You opened your mouth to scold him, your brow furrowed into a frown, but froze as soon as you saw his gentle expression become guarded as he prepared for your verbal onslaught.

 An ache filled your throat where your words were supposed to be, and you closed your mouth.  How easy it was to revert back to old habits when you were together.  The two of you were broken; the same old wounds seeping red because they were never given a chance to properly heal.

 You weren’t going to go through it again; not this time.  You were too tired.  And it wasn’t like it made much difference anyway.  It didn’t matter how much you begged, cried, or yelled.  Yagi wouldn’t stop.  He couldn’t stop.

Silence fell between you as you both stared at each other, the space between you feeling empty. No doubt your hurt was evident in your face, your body language, your eyes.  And if there was one thing you knew Yagi hated, it was seeing you upset.  He wanted to hold you.  You could see it in the way his body leaned towards you of its own accord, arms shifting just the slightest bit closer to your torso.  You could see the words on the edge of his tongue too, suspended between parted, bloodstained lips.

 Don’t. A part of you begged.  You didn’t want his comfort.  You didn’t want his excuses.

 Just as his mouth opened wider to speak, you averted your eyes and shifted your body away from him.  It was difficult – painful, as if you were a plant being pulled from the earth, fragile roots breaking in the soil.

 “You should go clean up.” You said quietly.

 Another long pause greeted you before he finally spoke.  “Yeah.  Okay.” He stood.  “Do you still have my clothes?”

 “Yeah. Dresser, bottom drawer.” You replied.

 Yagi excused himself, and a moment later you heard the sound of running water in the bathroom.  You stared at the bloodied floor and the stained shirt balled up on your table.  Nausea filled you, twisting your gut.

 Quickly, you grabbed your cleaning supplies and set to work, watching as the blood soaked into the white paper towels like an inkblot test.  Each fresh bloom of crimson spelled the foreshadowing you tried to erase, until you were wiping and scrubbing at the floor in frantic anger, tears dripping from your lashes.  It felt futile.  No matter how many paper towels you used, you always seemed to need more.

 By the end of it, the trash can was full, the roll noticeably smaller than when you had started.  You added Yagi’s ruined shirt to the top of the pile and stashed the bin away out of sight beneath your kitchen sink.  You’d take it out as soon as he left.  

 You could still hear the shower running in your bathroom, so you went to your living room and slouched onto your couch, waiting for Yagi to finish.

 You had hoped that cleaning up the mess would help reduce the severity from the situation, help you mask your growing fears.  But it was too late.  All you could see was red.  The red on his lips, the red on your floor, the red in the paper towels...

 The emotions you had hoped you could suppress until he left began to crest in you, and you vacated the living room in favor of the privacy of your bedroom. Maybe if you could let a few tears out during his shower, then you’d have enough composure until he left.  You curled onto your bed, your pillow clutched tightly in your arms as you buried your face into the plush fabric.

 For so long you’d held out, hoping that one day he’d understand.  That he’d see the damage to his body, see how quickly he was deteriorating.  That he’d see the fear in your eyes every time he showed up on your doorstep needing your help.  You’d hoped that your countless conversations would eventually amount to something, your words secretly unravelling the veil he chose to wear over his eyes as he fought battle after battle.

 It was that pesky, lingering hope that had been keeping you going.  Hope that eventually, there’d be an end to it all. Hope that Yagi could finally stop killing himself for the sake of the greater good.  Hope that the two of you could eventually pick up where you’d fallen and live a happy life.

 And it was hope that made you open the door for him each time.

 But now, that hope was finally gone.  You were done trying.  You realized it as soon as you’d finally given up talking to him – finally given up trying to save him.

 An emptiness took its place, cold and heavy.  Its absence gave no place for your love to nest, no place for your dreams to take root.  All you had left was the heavy, gut-wrenching reality that eventually, inevitably, you’d lose him.  Either he’d die in battle, or worse… He’d show up at your doorstep, his body beyond repair, and the only thing you’d be able to do is hold him as his lungs filled with blood.

 Your chest constricted so tightly at that single, horrible thought that you couldn’t even breathe, your lungs burning in a frantic need for oxygen.  There was nothing in the world worse than that single moment coming to life.  But you couldn’t erase it, couldn’t run from it.  It sat there, as real and permanent as the blood-soaked rags lurking in your kitchen trash.  You tried to suck air into your lungs, but the knot in your throat didn’t allow it, a suffocating sob lodged like a rock.  Your arms tightened around your pillow.

 You were going to lose him.  And there was nothing you could do about it.

 Grief settled itself onto your shoulders, heavy as an anchor.  Grief for a future that could never be. Grief for the death of a love that never fully had a chance to bloom. Grief for a man who would eventually slip through your fingers to become bones and dust, leaving nothing but the ache of his memory upon your soul.  You buckled under its weight, the heavy sob finally spilling from your parted lips as tears soaked into your pillow.

 You didn’t even notice as Yagi entered the room to find you curled up in your bed, sobbing.

 “Hey…” He whispered as he rushed over.

 His arms were around you in an instant, pulling you up against his bony chest, your head tucked under his chin.

 “Hey, hey…” he soothed as he held you.

 You leaned into his embrace, letting his presence envelop you.  Maybe you should have fought it; pushed him away instead of letting yourself indulge.  But it felt too good, too safe, and your arms tightened around him selfishly as you cried.  It brought back familiar memories of a time when the two of you had been happy, surrendering to your feelings for each other, before it all fell apart.  

 God, how you missed this.  Love had never been the issue for the two of you.  No, that was the easy part.  But it wasn’t enough.  Not when all of Japan rested on his shoulders, leaving little space for you no matter how deeply he cared for you.

 He held you as you cried, silently holding the space for you, his arms a safety net for all of the emotional weight you couldn’t carry alone.  Your tears soaked his shirt, your arms wound tight around his ribs, as you wished for nothing more than the power to change what was.

 “I don’t want to lose you…” you sobbed.

 “You won’t.” He replied.

 His words were meant to be comforting, but their effect was the opposite, making your heart ache even more at his inability to address the issue head on. He always was an optimist when it came to things of the heart.  It was part of what made him such a great hero.  But optimism wouldn’t save either of you here.

 You pulled away from him slightly, already missing the closeness of him.

 “Don’t…” you pleaded.  “Don’t do that.”

 Yagi looked down at your tear-stained face.  “Do what?”

 Quietly, you grabbed a tissue from the tissue box on your nightstand and wiped at your nose.  The material crumpled into a ball within your fist and you stared at it, your vision already blurring with fresh tears.

 “Don’t try to give me hope.” You replied.

 Yagi stared with wide eyes before withdrawing his arms. His expression fell, wounded by the truth in your honesty.  

 You struggled not to let it sway you.

 “I… I can’t keep doing this.” You whispered as you wiped the last of the tears from your cheeks. “Every time you show up on my doorstep, you’re worse than before. I won’t always be able to help you.”

 He watched you in silence for a moment before looking away in shame, his fingers interlaced in front of him as he leaned forward.  “I know.” He replied.

 Regret filled you at rejecting him.  You wanted him to touch you, to hold you. To have his presence surround you. To feel him alive beneath you, whole and here.  But you had to set a boundary.  You had to stop following him, stop hoping… if you didn’t, it would destroy you.

 Instead, you sat with your arms wrapped around yourself, a pitiful defense against the familiar allure of the man next to you.

 “You keep wanting me to save you, Yagi… but how can I save you if you won’t save yourself?”  You looked at him then, your eyes locking with his.  “You keep choosing to fight, to push yourself well past your limits. And you keep coming here, because you know that I still love you and won’t turn you away.”

 Yagi sucked air into his lungs, his posture going stiff at your words. You were right.  He knew you were right.  His inability to counter your statement was evidence enough of that.  Disappointment and guilt filled you as you broke eye contact to look at your shaking hands.

 “But… I can’t sit here and watch you destroy yourself. And you shouldn’t expect me to.” You whispered.

 The words were heavy, filling the empty space between you with their finality. You refused to look at Yagi; you knew he’d be hurt.  You knew his shoulders would slump in defeat, his mouth pulled into a deep frown.  Guilt filled you, making your hands fidget and your shoulders tense as you waited for his response.

 “You’re right.”

 His words were a whisper and your eyes snapped up to stare at him, bewilderment on your face.  He’d never said those words to you before... not about this.  His mask had cracked, and you could finally see his emotions flashing across his face as he struggled to transform them into words.  Remorse. Panic. Love. Fear.

 He cleared his throat and repeated himself.  “You’re right.  I have asked a lot of you.” His brow furrowed.  “I don’t know why I keep coming back.  I guess I just get… homesick.”

 Your breath hitched in your throat as your heart pounded like a battle drum in your chest.  You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were stolen from you when Yagi’s eyes met yours, deep and familiar.

 “I miss you.” He stated.

 “Yagi...” You cupped his cheek in your hand.  He leaned into it briefly, before removing your hand from his face and holding it within his own.

 “Listen... I... didn’t intend to come here for your help.  Not this time.  But you know how these things are...” He explained.  “I was on my way over when a villain showed up, and...” Yagi’s words faltered as he saw the expression on your face begin to fall.  He was doing it again, getting caught up in his work, making excuses... hurting you.

 He cleared his throat. “It’s... not important.  The point is, is that there was something I wanted to tell you.  But... I’m not sure it’ll make much of a difference.” He averted his gaze, his brows pulled together pensively.

 Your own brow furrowed in response, confused by his ambiguity.  A part of you was hesitant... you’d truly felt that you were done, that you’d reached your limit.  But could tell that whatever it was, it was important to him, and it was something that he wanted to share specially with you.

 “Just... tell me.” You said quietly, as you emotionally braced yourself.

 His blue eyes looked back at you, and he took a steady breath.  “Alright...”  He took your other hand in his own.  Now he held both of your hands between you as he sat with you on your bed.  “I... found a successor.”

 Your eyes widened, as you felt overcome with dizziness.  You were lightheaded, suddenly floating on his words that still lingered in the air like morning mist.

 “W... what??” you choked out.  Your heart pounded wildly as your hands gripped his, the warm, firm touch barely grounding you.

 “I found a successor.” He repeated, a slow smile starting to spread across his lips at your dumbfounded reaction.

 A smile began to spread across your lips.  “Does that mean... you’re retiring?”

 “Yeah-”

 Your lips were on his before he could say anything more, your arms flinging themselves around his neck.  He laughed against your lips as he returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his lap.

 You pulled away for a moment and stared into his eyes. They sparkled with mirth, blue as a summer’s day.

 “Well, that went better than I expected...” Yagi teased.

 “Tell me it’s true.  You’re really done?” you asked.

 “Well, I still have to train my apprentice... he’s got a big heart and a strength in him that I don’t think he even realizes he has yet.  But it’s going to take some time for him to learn how to wield all that power.”  Yagi’s expression turned from happy to serious.  “And... I have to admit that I can’t retire just yet.”

 You opened your mouth to protest, but he covered your lips with his finger.

 “Hang on a second, firecracker.” He grinned.  “I will retire. But I still have remnants of One For All in me, and I need to protect this kid until he’s able to master that power.  I’ll still be All Might until that last spark leaves me. I’m sure you understand that much, right? I have a responsibility to him.”

 You brushed aside his long bangs, relishing in the feel of the golden locks between your fingers.  Of course, you understood.  You’d never expected it to be immediate anyway.  But at least things were in motion.  All he had to do was survive.  And if Yagi was good at anything, it was surviving.

 You had to believe in him.

 “Yeah...” you whispered.  “I understand.”

 Now it was Yagi’s turn to be surprised. “Really?”

 You smiled and kissed him again.  “Really.”

 You had hope.

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh Part 2

a/n: lmao this is kinda weird for me but i think this was an interesting request so lets try it!

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

lowkey kyotani kentaro typa beat but you gotta squint (??)

also warning! angst!

anon request: Hii! I just read the seijoh manager headcannon you wrote, it made me cry so much, i love those seijoh boys so much, and you are such an amazing writer! I dont know if requests are open or not but i was wondering what would happen if the boys ever find out what happened to reader cha? If requests aren’t open or if you just don’t want to write about it, I completely understand! Thank you for your wonderful writing again! Stay safe!

the stageplay was *chefs kiss* like MY MANS IWA WAS SERVING LOOKSSSS

soooooo

this might get really angsty idk so just a warning in advance

anyways

i mentioned in the earlier part that no one really knew what happened to you

so this one is when they DO find out what happened and what theyre gonna do about it

so first off, kyoken was basically the only one who saw you that day and saw how badly you looked

the thing is, at that current moment, he didnt really know the reason why and what happened

he had theories that you got jumped or you just got into an accident 

but he was prettttttyyyy sure you got beat up

so you went home and rushed to yanno, take a shower and get your wound treated and cleaned so that it would heal bc you really cannot afford to let the boys see that

they would think of the worst at the smallest sight of blood on you and you really didnt want to deal w that chaos at the moment

you cant let them get suspended from school since they were going to interhigh soon and you cant let oikawa and the boys ruin their reputations just for you

a first year girl theyve just met

it was kinda hard to rinse all of the milk from your hair but you were able to at least get the smell out and clean up your mess

then you looked in the mirror and saw faint handprints around your throat from that girl miyo and you cringed as you touched it

‘jesus christ, seriously what does she eat? bricks?’

after your clothes were in the wash, you went to bed to get homework done and also looking up how to use the concealer to hide your bruises 

you didnt really own any makeup but your mom has some so you could just use that

during dinner, you wore a turtleneck to prevent any suspicion from happening but you couldnt really hide the big gash on your face

‘y/n, what happened!’

‘i was dumb and accidentally fell up the stairs’

your parents shared a chuckle bc theyve actually seen you do this before so it was easy to believe the lie

‘darling, do we need to get you glasses? it seems your sight has worsened’

‘haha’

you went along with the joke but you weren’t eating and just pushed your food around

‘y/n? is the food not good?’

your mother asked but you shook your head with a convincing smile

‘its good! i just had some meat buns with the team earlier and i ate a lot so im still full’

you cursed at yourself for making it sound so rehearsed but you were relieved when your mother nodded

the next morning, you were satisfied with the reduced puffing of your face and you snuck into your parents bathroom where her makeup bag would be

as you held up the concealer, you started getting anxious because this was not the same shade as your skin and it would definitely raise suspicion if you had a different color on your neck than the rest of your body

you already planned to blame your wound as acne that you accidentally scratched but what were you going to do with the handprints?

the website you read said that it would take at least a day for them to fade

so you decided youd just wear a scarf and pretend you were cold

kunimi was confused as to why you had a scarf bundled around your neck and his eyes even widened at the sight of the bandaid on your face

‘y/n! what-!’

he shot up from his seat and your eyes widened before hissing at him to sit down

‘what happened to you?!’

he worriedly asked but you waved him off with a small smile

‘acne. this was the only available bandaid in my house so i had to work with this’

kunimi might be a lazy little shit but he was observant

and he noticed the way you said that sentence

it was like a robot

like a robot programmed to say what was written on its script

but before he could press on further, you already pointed out that the teacher was coming in and to hush so you could listen

the entire time, kunimi was awake alright, but he was too busy looking at you and a bright red thing that poked from the edge of your bandaid

kindaichi went to your classroom for lunch and you had to repeat your excuse for him but he pointed at another thing

‘why are you wearing a scarf? its like burning in here’

you didnt look at him as you just opened your bento

‘being in your period causes your temperature to fluctuate and cause unexplainable chill at even the hottest places’

okay what

they both shared a look and just shrugged, blaming it on your time of the month for the way you spoke with no emotion in your tone

this had to be the longest school day of your life

the whole time the scarf remained on and kunimi cant help but notice your flinches at the smallest of sounds

finally practice arrived and you really thought you could pull this off until oikawa barreled straight towards you and hugged you tightly

‘y/n-chan! you okay?! oikawa-senpai was so worried for you!’ 

you cringed but nodded

‘im okay, oikawa-san’

‘senpai, y/n-chan! call me senpai!’

‘im not going to feed into your kink, oikawa-san’

*cue everyone busting a lung*

‘y/n, what’s the-’

‘acne. only bandaid available in my house’

eventually, everything was fine

you were still cracking jokes w the others and you were still laughing w them so kunimi and kindaichi were at ease

but that shattered when oikawa was being oikawa and was being all touchy and bothering you about the scarf around your neck that he ended up pulling it off and he saw the marks

he was silent, just staring at them

ofc you were freaking out and you started breathing heavily

oh god he found out and he was going to hurt them

‘o-oikawa-senpai, listen, it’s not what it-’

‘y/n’

his voice made your eyes shut in fear and the others crowded around you and they all had scandalized looks on their faces

‘is this why you werent in practice yesterday?’

his voice was sharp, a complete opposite to his normally cheerful tone

you shivered and sighed

‘senpai, please dont-’

‘who is it?’

the other third years shared a look bc they were truly shook at oiks voice

‘w-why should i tell you?! its none-’

‘i am your captain and i deserve to know who is pulling you away from your managerial duties so he could just give you these damn hickeys!’

the gym turned silent

you stopped then furrowed your eyebrows

‘hickey? what-’

‘dont act like you dont know, y/n. so just be honest and tell me who’s your boyfriend’

lmao i shouldnt laugh bc this was supposed to be sad but im cackling at how dumb oikawa really is sometimes

‘i-i,,,,’

you stuttered but you knew this was the perfect opportunity

you could just blame it on this ridiculous misunderstanding 

its a difficult hole to get out of but it would be easier than the other

so you pretended to be flustered and turned around to hide your face

‘it was a one-time thing, oikawa-san. i promise it wont happen again’

HELLO WHAT

the team was leaking the feeling of RAGE

how dare someone take their manager!

she was theirs!

and it doesnt help that every player might have a little thing for you

is this really turning into a harem

oikawa kept demanding answers but iwa hit him enough to quit and they finally went back to practicing but they were still distracted

every time they looked at you, they would grow flustered and red and end up missing a block or a serve

they just cant see their baby manager like that

you noticed it quickly and irritably got on them

‘stop staring at my neck and get back to practice!’

they flinched and saluted at you

lmao this little first year girl is able to control nearly a dozen <5′10 men who are all older than her

but you were glad that they finally stopped asking about it

this was going to go by smoothly and you were going to be okay

however,,,

several days later,,,

this is an angst fanfiction so i will bring thy angst

you were taking out your class garbage since it was your group’s turn in cleaning the classroom when you were grabbed by the arm on your way back

it was still outside and after school so it wouldve been an unlikely situation that someone would help you

it was that biatch miyo again and her 2 minions behind her

then you recognized one girl from the track team who was actually a year older than you but you saw her dropping off some files in the office

if you tried to run, she could easily grab you w her fast legs

great

you were stuck

you let out a tired sigh and crossed your arms on your chest

‘what is it you want from me, again?’

she smirked

‘you really dont know how to listen, do you? i told you to stay away from oikawa but youre still flaunting around with him!’

is she serious?

this girl was borderline stalker/yandere type of girl

you gave her an incredulous look and frowned

‘girl, do you hear yourself? you damn crazy and im leaving’

but she grabbed you back and shoved you against the wall

but this time, you kicked her on the chest to make her fall on her flat booty

surprise was written on their faces and you stretched your arms in front of you to symbolize distance

‘one more step and ill beat tf out of you. i just got my nails off so id watch it if i were you’

miyo huffed and stood up, brushing herself, glaring at one of the girls who tried to help her

then she remembered what you told her

‘hmm? if you hit me, you could be kicked off of the team since you hurt another student. so, go ahead, little kouhai’

she was right

even if it was self-defense, the school’s disciplinary section sucked and just suspended or kicked off people left and right even though they didnt do anything wrong

you were stumped

you were here on a scholarship, not on tuition

your mom would KILL you if she found out you got into a fight and got a record

but you didnt show that and kept your tough facade

‘dont challenge me. i could be a crazy bitch and i dont think youd like your little face being all messed up. so watch your mouth and leave me alone’

you turned to leave but she grabbed your hair and tugged it back

lmao flashbacks to the other part

she twisted your hair into a ponytail and had a firm grip while a girl kicked you behind your knees so you would fall to the ground

oh no you were done w this

you elbowed miyo on the stomach the hardest you could and she groaned which loosened her hold and you kicked her again to the ground

some other girl hit your side and you winced before slapping her straight across the face bc you didnt want to punch her and hurt your knuckles

but they were really testing you

the last girl still had your hair but you twisted around to face her and just did the last you could think of that would hurt

hit her right between her legs

you finally escaped their hold and miyo lunged after you

‘oh my god leave me alone!’

you yelled before holding up your arms to protect your face but she scratched your arms 

obviously you were losing this bc it was just you but you were going to fight as much as you can

‘bad kouhais need to be punished! your senpais need to teach you a lesson!’

miyo screeched and you grabbed her arm before punching her straight at the boob

sorry rebecca

however, one girl was smart and did the same thing you did to her knees and made you fall to a kneeling position and eventually made you curl into a fetal position

gurl we actually fighting so hard considering we’ve never been in a fight

they continuously kicked you before miyo pulled up your head so you could sit up and kneel in front of her

ofc you tried to grab at her and punch at her

but these other girls were able to catch you and trap your arms in their hold and had their feet on your legs so you couldnt kick

great, another bathroom scene

your arms were bleeding from miyo’s scratches and your sides were hurting after their kicks

you lost and you were already bleeding in places you didnt think you would

this would be the last attempt and if he doesnt come, you’re done for

‘IIIIIIWWWWWAAAAAAAA-SAAAAAANNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!’

your scream echoed throughout the entire are

possibly could be heard in new york

and your voice became hoarse

ofc the girls were surprised and caught off guard but when there was silence and clear that no one was coming, they started laughing

‘oh, so cute! iwa-san? is that supposed to be iwaizumi-san? heh, you whoring around w him too? thats so cute-’

‘LET. GO. OF. HER. NOW.’

I GOT CHILLS

the girls holding you shrieked and dropped their hold on you before scrambling back causing you to drop to the ground

miyo’s eyes were wide and there was horror all over her face at the voice of that infamous boy

kyotani kentarou

‘WHAT THE FK ARE YOU DOING?!’

he yelled and miyo turned around to be met with his piercing eyes before screaming and running away with her minions in tow

‘YEA RUN AWAY! FKING COWARDS!’

ltr the cursing is so awkward for me to do but this is his character and im just so awkward so sorry!!

you coughed and winced at the pain on your side which caught his attention

again, he noticed you as the manager of their team and you’ve been hanging out w him, well, just him staring at you, at the alley while you feed the animals

you were actually nice and caring and definitely didnt deserve this

‘oi, y-you okay?’

you didnt look up, just closing your eyes in pain and biting your lips to not let out the crying

his eyes softened at you and he noticed you were trying to act tough and brave even though you just got beat up

normally, he wouldnt even help anyone but it seems you just did something to him

he sighed before gently picking you up, you not even bothering to stop him, and he held you tightlyin his arms as he carried you to the nurses office

he had a feeling you didnt want to be seen like this and hes been in the nurse enough to know she actually leaves the moment school ends

you let out a shaky breath as he set you down on the cot and you opened your eyes to reach your hold for him when he went away

‘n-no, don’t leave-’

but he grunted softly before holding your wrist

‘im just getting your damn medicine. chill out’

lowkey getting bakugou vibes

you nodded and went to close your eyes again

kyo returned w some pain relief medicine from his bag that he carries 

babie actually gets into fights often and he needs it sometimes

and he had alcohol medicine kind istg and bandaids for your arms

it was silent as you drank the pills and he sat down next to you so he could treat the wounds

but he let his curiosity take over him

‘why the fk did you let them do this to you’

he grunted and you scoffed with a smile

‘let? more like overpower me and grip me as they just hit me’

‘cant you fight them back?’

you glared at him

‘bruh i literally kneed some girl in their cooch but they just some superhuman typa girls that cant be hurt’

he sighed

‘maybe you just werent strong enough’

okay listen here you lil shit

you didnt want to listen to him scold you anymore so you just went back to closing your eyes

but kyo is actually lowkey nosy so he kept asking questions

‘the first time we met. was it her too?’

you flinched in surprise

‘you remembered that?’

‘ofc i did. you looked like shit. not as bad as this but still like shit’

‘gee thanks, stranger-kun’

‘kyotani,,, kentarou’

you smiled

‘nice to meet you, kyotani kentarou. im l/n y/n’

‘i know’

he mumbled but you didnt catch it

‘thanks for hearing me and coming to help’

he hummed

he wasnt going to tell you that he actually heard the scream for his idol and thought hed be there so he ran to go see him but instead saw you

kyo just respects and looks up to iwa-chan so much it warms my heart uwu-

once you were all patched up, you were finally able to stand but you still staggered

he grabbed your arm softly and sat you back down

‘what the hell are you going to tell the team?’

you paused then sighed

‘i dont know. ill figure something out’

but he knew how observant the players would be and they would catch on

after all, he was there watching at the top bleachers as oikawa yelled at you for the ‘hickey’

‘if they didnt hit your face, you could get away with it. but you have wounds all over you and theyd find out. im guessing youre doing this bc you dont want to trouble them or burden them? bc they would do something about it?’

you just stared at this guy

‘how-’

‘just a guess’

he also wasnt going to tell you that he was actually part of the team but the constant fighting got him in suspension

and the fact that his parents were donors for the school, he only got a tap on the wrist

‘so what do i do, then?’

‘tell them-’

‘no i cant do that! another plan, kyo-kun!’

‘oi, im a second year, idiot. treat me with respect’

the irony bc he totally treats oikawa like trash

‘i just,,,, oikawa-san is seen as this prince/gentleman type and i know how protective he is towards me so the slightest problem could cause him to be ballistic. miyo is popular enough to circulate rumors about him and hes already in his third year and she is too so i just have to endure one year until theyre gone’

kyo was disgusted

all this for that stupid idiot captain?

‘youre dumber than i thought’

you weakly hit him at the arm

‘so mean, kyo-san’

‘i dont think its right youre suffering for someone who isnt even worth it’

you glared and linked your fingers together

‘im the manager. i knew this would happen the moment i signed up but i didnt care. as manager, i have to keep up the team’s image and their popularity for support so i cant let all that be ruined just bc a little first year girl couldnt fight for herself’

‘just tell them, kid. less problems’

then he stood up to leave

‘kid?! im only a year younger than you! what you mean!’

but you were panicking

someone knew about you being hurt and they could easily tell the team

and it only increased when he entered the gym and later introduced himself as a player

you were so surprised that you stopped breathing

‘kyo-san,,,’ 

you muttered and he glared at you

well, more like look at you but i have a theory that kyo actually has problems w his sight so it looks like he’s glaring at you constantly but hes just actually trying to see clearly

‘yo’

oikawa was surprised at this interaction

‘eh? you know kyoken-chan?’

you nodded, still looking at the blonde

‘i-uh’

‘its none of your business’

kyotani grunted and you sighed in relief

maybe your secret would be safe

you were still uneasy about him accidentally revealing it, especially since he practically worships iwaizumi-san, but he kept his mouth shut

your caring personality at first was overbearing on him but he appreciated your efforts like volunteering on helping him with his eyeliner or asking him if he needed help with his medical tape

ngl, he also thought you were there just bc it was a team full of guys and you thought you could have that weird girl fantasy of having a harem

but you cared for them like practically a mother and continuously made it clear to oikawa that you were NOT interested in going on a date with him

you werent annoying, you were nice, and you weren’t pushy so he actually showed you respect and took a liking to you

this created a soft of protectiveness around you

sometimes, he would see you around school and he would practically glare at the girls he knew hated you

and when he wasnt there to protect you, you would call him to the nurses office where he would mumble apologies of not being there while patching you up before he would go over and threaten them to touch you again and he would bite their fingers off

aww hes so cute

ofc he still kept your secret bc it wasnt his business to tell 

until that one day

it was normal practice with you helping the boys toss the balls so they could spike it

iwaizumi spiked it really hard making you flinch and he apologized profusely after you almost fell off the chair you were standing on in surprise

‘im just angry that that damn shittykawa is the captain and is late to his own damn practice’

oikawa? late?

that was unheard of

you were about to get off the chair and look for him when the devil himself entered the gym with the devil’s mistress on his arm

miyo was holding on to his arm as he laughed at something she said and ruffled her hair

you dropped the ball and kyotani quickly moved to you so he could stand in front of you protectively

‘oi! shittykawa! youre late!’

oikawa just smiled and pointed at the girl

‘miyo-chan made us cookies, iwa-chan!’

at the mention of food, the boys ran forward but you and kyotani remained at the side at the infamous name

you got off the chair and hurriedly placed an arm in front of him

‘don’t, kyo-san’

‘the bitch-’

‘i know. but please, dont’

you begged and he huffed before aggresively wrapping an arm around your shoulder

aggressively cares for you

‘if she does something or even talks shit, i will-’

‘kyoken-chan! y/n-chan! come here!’

oikawa called but kyotani snarled at him

you smile wobbled when miyo’s eyes narrowed at you and she smirked

‘oh? your manager is so cute, oikawa-kun!’

the rest of the team was just blinking at this weird tension

kyo had his arm tightly around you and hatingly glaring at this girl, who was icily smirking at you, and you tightly holding kyo’s shirt with a worried glint in your eyes

‘you were late to your own damn practice, oikawa. stop wasting time eating this shit and go back to playing’

tbh it still shocks you at how rudely kyo talks to oikawa but you were too pre-occupied on making sure this kid wasnt going to lunge at this girl

‘a-ah, right. oikawa-san, we have to return to practice. if you excuse us, miyo-san-’

you were about to gently grab oikawa’s arm to bring him back when she grabbed your wrist and secretly gripped it

‘oh, dont be so uptight, y/n-chan! i worked so hard-’

but kyo immediately snatched her hand away from you and squeezed it as tight as he could, making her wince

oikawa noticed the pain in miyo’s face and he was angry that kyotani was hurting a girl

‘oi! kyotani!’

he shouted and pushed him away, making the team, even iwa, worriedly look at kyo and brace themselves for the beating

iwa jumped into action and held the second year back while you jumped in front of oikawa

‘kyo-san, calm-’

‘you! be quiet’

he shouted, finger pointing at you

‘and you!’

before pointing to oikawa

‘you are a shitty captain’

‘kyotani!’

iwa was just straight out confused and hes really questioning life decisions right now

mom is stressed and confused, i repeat, MOM IS STRESSED AND CONFUSED

oikawa’s eyes narrowed but he just calmly talked

‘we’ll talk about this later’

‘miyo-san, we really need to practice so if you could see yourself out’

iwa gently smiled to the girl, who was about to protest, but makki and mattsun has already pointed to the door

she huffed then turned to leave and once she was gone, iwa let go of kyotani

‘kyotani, what the hell was that’

oikawa lowly asked and you were about to put your arms out to separate them but yahaba and watari grabbed you so you wouldnt be caught in the middle

then kyo turned to you, fire in his eyes

‘either you tell him or i will’

can we just talk about how protective kyo is?

you trembled and you roughly left yahaba and watari’s grip so you could gently place your hands on his chest

‘please, kyo. just leave it, okay? remember, it’s my busi-’

‘if i see that bitch enter this gym again, i dont give a flying fuck if shes a girl. ill beat the living daylights out of her’

‘kyotani kentarou, what-!’

oikawa shouted but your glare shut him up

‘y/n-chan, what is going on’

‘n-nothing. kyo-san is just, yknow, being him. you know? okay. now lets get back to practice, everyone!’

coach irihata and the other guy sharing that look

to say the least, miyo was pissed

and when she was pissed at you, she always did what she normally does

she corners you wherever its deserted and beat you with the help of her minions who holds you down while she slaps, hits, or kicks you

girlie you needs to tell the boys youre literally getting hit and abused and im just-!!!!!!!!!

and thats exactly what she did

only this time, she wore hard-tipped shoes

‘see, y/n-chan? i saved up and got these shoes just for you!’

the minions were just sharing looks of fear and genuine sympathy for you

they were only there bc she blackmailed them with pictures doing questionable things and if they dont help, they would be released

as usual, you didnt cry, biting your lip as you winced from the pain of her kick at your side

‘youre so pathetic. how could you do this to a person? and all this for your oikawa-san? for a boy?’

you wheezed at her causing her eyes to flare

‘HAH?! SAY THAT AGAIN!’

‘i said-’

but you were cut off when she slapped the soul out of you

her ring cut you at the lip and you cringed at the taste of blood from your lip

‘what else? we gotta hurry this up, miyo, because practice started like 5 minutes ago and im going to get yel-’

‘SHUT UP!’

kyotani entered the gym after his talk with his teacher and immediately looked around for you

his honey brown eyes scanned the area and they widened as your figure wasn’t in sight

‘oi, yahaba, wheres the manager’

the boy shrugged from the side 

‘i dont know. shes late though’

oh god

‘kindaichi! kunimi! youre in the same grade right? did you see where she went after class?’

kunimi paused to remember before answering

‘she stayed after to talk to obe-sensei for the homework, that’s all i know’

that meant she stayed behind and was probably somewhere

‘SHIT!’

he shouted before bolting out the door

ofc the boys were all worried of his outburst and started yelling after him

‘kyotani!’

‘kyoken-chan?!’

they followed him, who was running as fast as he can

the girls would probably do it outside to avoid having to clean up their mess and he almost wrenched the door open in a hurry to take a lap around the school building

it was certainly a sight to see: a boy with dyed blonde hair and two brown lines followed after an entire volleyball team who were screaming after him

‘YOU-!’

he heard that bitch voice and bolted towards the back, where the dumpster was, and found you at the same position like the first time he saw you

blood was dripping on the floor from your busted lip and a cut on your cheek while your eyes were wide at the sight of kyotani’s panting form

‘kyo-!’

‘kyotani!’

your eyes watered at the sight of the entire volleyball team behind him, also eviqualiently surprised yet fuming angry

the girls who held you dropped your arms and ran for the hills so they wouldnt get caught

kyo pushed miyo aside as he grabbed you from the floor and held you

oikawa gave miyo a look that cannot even be described in words

all it was: incredibly, super, ridiculously, heatedly, furiously, angry

now multiply that by the entire team

‘hm, my father, who is the chieftain of the police, mentioned about there being jail time for even minors who commit serious acts like assault or bullying’

mattsun seethed

‘really? i think he’d like the video as evidence against kenta miyo for assault and battery, including bullying, so how many years would that add up to? nearly a decade?’

the girl miyo squeaked as oikawa and iwaizumi roughly grabbed each wrist

‘how long’

miyo trembled at the increased pressure on her wrist

‘IM ASKING YOU A FUCKING QUESTION! HOW LONG!’

iwaizumi has never shouted at a girl before and hopefully, it would be the last

‘s-s-since l-last month’

you burrowed your head in kyotani’s shirt

‘please dont’

‘shut the fk up, y/n-chan, we’re not talking to you right now’

oikawa coldly reprimanded

‘everyone, take y/n away. iwaizumi and i can take care of this. but mattsun, makki, track down those 3 girls and find others who have even touched our manager’

‘got it, boss’

if it was in a different situation, you wouldve applauded oikawa at his ability to be a leader but you were currently in pain from the bruises and the cuts all over you

your fellow first-years were angrily punching things in the nurse’s office

rip nurse in the morning when she finds holes all over her walls

the irony is, the most agressive one, kyotani kentarou, was the calmest as he quietly cleaned your wounds and placed ointment on the bruises

‘i told you so’

he mumbled and you scoffed

‘howd you find me anyways?’

‘dumb bitch yaps really loud’

he answered

no one was yelling at you and no one was saying a word

eventually, oikawa and iwaizumi entered followed by the rest of the third years

‘why. why didnt you tell us, y/n?’

oikawa asked as he sat down on the chair beside the bed

you looked down and fiddled with your fingers

‘if i did, you wouldve hurt her. and she wouldve spread rumors about you and ruin the image and reputation of the grand king and the volleyball team. i didnt want to do that to you and thought i could just endure it one year since youre graduating anyways’

iwaizumi sucked in a harsh breath

‘you wouldn’t have known what we were going to do. you are no oracle and you dont know how we are going to handle this situation. so you were really stupid for keeping these things to yourself, y/n. you may be our manager and our caretaker but let us take care of you too’

you nodded but your tears fell

‘sorry. im really sorry. i didnt meant to trouble you’

‘stop apologizing, y/n’

‘sorry’

‘y/n!’

you bowed your head low and bit your lip in guilt

‘i shouldve told you but i didnt and now everyone is troubled-’

‘we’re a team, y/n. youre not a lone wolf anymore. you have a pack standing right beside you’

watari mumbled and he sat down to give you his favorite hug: the one arm hug

‘im super angry right now and it might seem like im snappy but i really want you to know, y/n, that i really love you and i am just hurt that you didnt trust us enough to tell us you were suffering when i trust you with my entire being. so next time youre hurting or in pain, dont you dare keep it to yourself. tell us, okay? tell your senpais and friends about it so we can share that burden’

oikawa babie you are so mature like what-

what started out as a hug from watari turned into a team hug around the tiny bed, even kyo joined, and you were so happy you found a good team that appreciated you and everything youve done and accepted you as one of their own

‘oikawa-san, what did you do to miyo?’

‘again, im mad y/n-chan, so please dont talk about her right now’

‘iwa-san?’

‘dont use those puppy eyes on me! dont you dare-- okay, we’re pressing charges’

silence

‘WHAT?!’

‘and iwa-chan slapped her!’

‘WHAT?!’

‘shut up shittykawa you did too!’

‘WHAT?!’

a/n: this hurted a bit and im sorry if this was lowkey awkward and all over the place but i didnt exactly know how to portray this situation since ive never experienced this, just bullying in general, before but for those who have, please tell someone so that you dont have to carry that burden by yourself. it doesnt have to be a your parents, but talk to a trusted adult so that this type of stuff doesnt happen to you bc you truly dont deserve that type of treatment and deserve to be happy and feel safe in an environment like school or anywhere in general

[nincompoopydoo]

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— US AGAINST THE WORLD ; PART 4 / ?

( credits to @animusrox for this gif )

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 2247 hot diggy dog

SUMMARY: You have a heart-to-heart conversation with one of your students before the play and you're hit with the realization that your love for Bruce may be more than meets the eye. hence, you’re starting to wonder if it was a mistake you can never fix.

A/N: This one’s long and kinda depressing. I’m in an angsty mood now whoops. Nevertheless, thank you for reading this series, the bagels will make its appearance and enjoy this one folks.

WARNINGS: Anxiety, depressing thoughts.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

The night of the show arrived quicker than you anticipated. The flurry of theatre kids rushing about backstage is quite the sight, feeling the incredible sense of pride of a mother for her children. Yet in prayer, you ask Mrs. Wilson for the gift of strength and ability to manage a bunch of highly-strung teenagers. It’s only Shakespeare after all but you knew that wasn’t the genuine nature behind their stage jitters. With all tickets sold out within a week, it has easily become the biggest event of the year aside from homecoming. It may be a little pretentious for a high school production of an over-performed Shakspeare play to emerge as the highlight of the year, but you know it will help with some of the students’ portfolios for acting school.

The clock ticks—thirty minutes before showtime and panic starts to creep.

Your fingertips dance along the selvage of the extensive drapery of the stage as lighting queues are being run through for the last time. The urge of curiosity lets you crack open the curtain as you peeked at the rest of the theatre. The bustling crowd made up of mostly teenagers with seats rapidly being filled, it’s certainly a sight for sore eyes. Amongst the settling audience, you spot Bruce, seated between Mr. Walken, the principal, and Mr. Huckleberry, the vice-principal, likely being shamelessly asked for donations. He looks engaged, but his posture and the gaze of his eyes tell a very different story—Bruce is barely listening to a word they’re saying.

He then turns in the direction of your hiding spot and despite the distance, he catches your eye, immediately recognizing it’s you spying from behind the curtains. You watch the curve of his lips turn up into more of a smirk, swiftly sending a wink your way. You instantly disappear behind the curtains, cheeks burning.

You sometimes find it hard to believe you’re sleeping with the man with no strings attached because you’re incredibly attracted to him.

Someday, you’ll burst out into an exaggerated love confession, and you know it’s going to be ugly. It’s a reality check and right now, it’s the last thing you want. Running away from your problems is more of a habit than a choice as you would rather live in the world your mind has created, where miracles are made and defects cease to exist. Anyone would trade the cruelties of reality for a perfect one yet getting too caught up in a daydream will eventually evolve into toxicity. Bruce orbits the very core of your problems and daydreams. You want to run away from him and allow yourself to be engulfed by his presence at the same time.

You just need...to breathe. Hence, the second dressing room has a weird stench to it. It’s a mess but it’s empty. Yet, it seems you aren’t the only one in need of space, away from everyone else. Shaniqua is seated at the far corner of the room on a crooked metal chair, dressed in a somewhat modernized version of an Elizabethan era dress. Very elaborate and theatrical. Despite her introverted character, she was constantly bright-eyed and keen during your classes. She had a drive like no other. Hell, she miraculously memorized all her lines in two days.

You’ve never seen a furrow of the girl’s brows, until now, and it worries you. Even her glitter-covered eyes could not conceal the dismay they portray with prominence. Gingerly, you made your way to her as she stared at her fidgeting hands. It was only when you settled on the opposite dusty old chair when she finally noticed your presence.

“Stage fright, huh?” you casually asked, resting your arm on the dressing table. She mirrors your posture, heaving a deep sigh, and shakes her head. “No, it’s just,” A pause, her gaze finds yours. You nod, flashing her a smile. It’s a simple gesture that you’re here to listen. “It’s about Oscar...” You catch a hint of a smile as she trailed off and in an instant, your brow raises with curiosity. Oh? Another beat of silence, her eyes dart around the room. You sit quietly with patience because you knew she had more to say.

“It’s just that doing this play has got me thinking a lot about my feelings. I mean, if Romeo and Juliet could be lovers, despite their feuding families, then it must be easy enough for me to admit that I like Oscar.”

“You have a point.” You chuckle, eyes crinkling with amusement. Sometimes she thinks too much for her own good. She reminds you of Bruce. Shaniqua flashes you a faint smile, lips pressed with doubt. “But why am I finding it so hard to just tell him that?”

You stayed silent for a moment or two, mind deep in thought. The chair creaks as you shift in your seat. “Well, could it be that you aren’t sure if he likes you back?”

A hum in response, shrugging coyly as she mumbled a ‘maybe’. Although it was clear as day to you that Oscar liked her back, you wondered if her doubts emerged due to their differences in character. The familiarity of the situation is beginning to feel a lot like deja vu.

“How do you know that someone is the one?” Her sudden question catches you off guard because, in all honesty, you aren’t confident if you knew the answer. A straightforward question, commonly seen in the pages of teenage magazines, written for innocent eyes. You knew its true nature and it terrifies you. The image of Bruce charges through your thoughts like rushing water, memories of times when the two of you were younger clouding your mind. You forcefully push back your university days, buried back deep into your conscience.

“I don’t exactly know the answer to that but in my opinion, it’s—it’s the feeling of completeness when you love them and know they love you. They may be different from you, but it doesn’t make you love them any less. There’s no conflict or strife; it’s just the two of you against the world.”

Those words were raw and genuine, carefully crafted directly from the heart. You weren’t surprised by your words because you’ve thought about it a lot, especially on nights you slept on Bruce’s bed. Maybe, you do love him, and that's a huge ass problem. It’s amazing how unexpected situations tend to encourage apprehension on large issues you never knew existed in the first place. Perhaps it was your astonishing lack of discernment when it came to matters that could potentially alter your life.

Tonight, a sixteen-year-old girl did just that.

Amid your growing anxiety, you manage to catch sight of the wall clock, hung on the other side of the room. It’s now eight minutes until showtime. Your eyes are now wide as you sprung up from your seat in the sudden realization that everyone should be at their respective positions two minutes ago. “Oh God, we’re running late. Shaniqua, word of advice—don’t end up regretting something you didn’t do,” You shoot her a pointed look, index finger stretching towards her. “Now, you really need to go, or we’ll have to delay and you know Mr. Walken hates waiting.”

-

It’s a quarter to nine, and the theatre is empty. Outside, the foyer and the hallways are buzzing with the remaining audience, lingering and sharing inane conversations as others wait for a car to take them home. You had only just finished rearranging the costumes in the wardrobe of the dressing room. You tried to sweep the scatter of glitter all over the floor but it deemed a task as impossible; you’ll deal with it next week.

You’re sitting in the seat at the front row, nearest to the aisle with a large box filled with props on your lap. Alone in transcendental silence, feeling as empty as the theatre itself. It was partly the conversation you had with Shaniqua that hit you with the reminder of all the mistakes you made that have led you to this unchanging world of a blur that takes the blame for the wretched feeling in your chest. Yet, as the show progressed, hearing the words of affection from two lovers had sent your mind reeling. You were desperate to head home, crawl into bed and potentially cry yourself to sleep but the growing anxiety forbids it, you don’t even think you could drive home.

So, you stillness of the theatre reminds you of Edward Hopper’s painting, Solitary Figure in a Theater. With eyes shut, you pretend you are the figure in the painting, sheathed in black, sitting alone in the cavernous dark.

You hear the door of the theatre squeak, swinging open followed by the shuffling of feet. You don’t look at first, too tired anyway. You’d assume someone had either forgotten something or it was the janitor that you’re sure is going to be upset over the glitter massacre in the dressing room. It looked like a crime scene, except it was the murder of a literal unicorn. You made a mental note to send an apology sandwich of some sorts next week.

It was the familiarity in the whiff of cologne that made you snap your eyes wide open, looking over your shoulder to meet with the sight of Bruce, ambling down the aisle towards you. He smiles, and you mirror him, shifting in your seat and nearly toppling the box to the ground. “What are you still doing here?” He smiles, and you mirror him, shifting in your seat and nearly toppling the box to the ground. “I could ask you the same question.” He settles in the seat next to you, elbow brushing against yours. Your head tilts, gesturing to the box. Bruce merely hums and nods thoughtfully.

“So, how was the play? Does it get a Wayne seal of approval?” There’s a hint of teasing in the curve of your lips as his eyes drift to the stage. “I liked it. The kids have talent.” Your eyes glint with amusement, your smile growing wider. “I never knew you were a fan of romance.” His laugh comes out more like a huff of air, crinkled eyes meeting yours, and nudges you lightly. “Well, now you know.”

He recognizes the way your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes and the way you’re fussing with the edges of the box on your lap. Something is bothering you and he knows it. He nudges you once more. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You blink once. Then twice, face wincing instinctively. You keep forgetting how well Bruce can read people, especially you. You exhale slowly as he watches you struggle to pick the right words.

“It’s really nothing. It’s just-” you say after a long minute, cutting yourself short. Then, you turn to Bruce. “I’m growing older, and I’ve spent my entire life in a fog with so much fear for reality, I’m afraid it’s too late to fix all my mistakes and regrets.” Your voice dwindles with every word that escaped your lips. You were young, naïve with the notion that time was extensive to make decisions without thinking it through. To know that you could never take back the things you did. Saturn’s rising, it’s a wake-up call now that you’re older and the fear that you would never change creeps onto you with every passing birthday.

Bruce defines the epitome of the sinking feeling in your chest whenever you lay in bed at night and let your mind reel about your existence. Yet, it isn’t as simple as you want it to be. The boy you met at university has grown into a far more complex and entangled mess of the grief of his parents, the responsibility he held over this city and the drive to just...keep moving on. For the longest time, it was him against the world, and a part of you wants to believe that it doesn’t have to be that way. That maybe, you could be enough for him.

He glanced away from you, trying to hide the despondency in his eyes. He holds back a sigh as he speaks, “Do you regret us doing this?” As vague as his question is, you know what he exactly means. He remembers the time the two of you used to exchange senseless conversations and laughter so vividly that it scares him. Juvenile friends, lacking the knowledge to know what love really was. Hence, the agreement—it was just two friends, messing around. Nothing could go wrong. Now, the hole has been dug in too deep, with no way of getting out.

“I don’t,” you reply and with just two simple words, his chest feels like fire. It was the way you had said it, with so much confidence and assurance, despite the intricacy of this relationship. For the first time in a long time, you were extremely sure about an answer. You could never regret Bruce. Never.

It’s almost hesitant in the way his hand finds yours, but it represents his care for you, even if you may not know it. The warmth of his hand feels like fire. Hell, your chest feels like it’s on fire, heart burning for the man beside you. “I’ll drive you home,” he whispers with a squeeze of your hand. You flash him a grateful smile as the two of you drift into a comfortable silence. Silence so eloquent that you don’t feel so empty anymore. No longer a solitary figure trapped in a painting but now two, hand in hand, against the world.

TAGLIST

@raineeace

[sour-n-salty-citrus]

Part 2 of my reaction to the finale! Check p1 out here

Rickmurai Jack:

FOR A HOT SECOND I THOUGHT THE WEBSITE BROKE AND I WAS ON AN EP OF A:TLA LMAOOO-

this is so ✨anime✨ omg

HAHAHA, well, Morty went to get his ass back, but it's not nearly as angsty as I expected!

This is... kind of just sad tbh-

ANIME OP OMFG

THEY EVEN HAVE THE FANSUB-LIKE ENGLISH OVER JAPANESE SUBTITLES TRANSLATION LOLOL

aaaaaand Morty took some science-y stuff to make it look like he aged and time passed didn't he

Man i really have to shit right n- wait, no, don't put that in-

"because you look like shit, and this is not how I wanna remember you" OUCH GODAMN

Ok, pausing just a second to say just how absolutely gorgeous the costume design, backgrounds, and overall aesthetic is. The team is so creative, I never would have expected the theme of 'crows' to look so... beautiful in execution (at least not in an episode of RaM). They understood the assignment, and really went all out to give it such a haunting, elegant beauty.

A LIVE LAUGH LOVE SIGN LMAO

A METAPHOR FOR ROMANTIC PARTNERSHIP- AKDJSKDJ hold on

Haha, called it, it was a fake ageing thing (but that was kind of obvious tbh sjdjsjsjs)

YES! BETH STANDING UP FOR HER SON (and by extension herself) AGAINST RICK! I LOVE HOW FAR SHE'S COME! WE STAN THE DEVELOPMENT OF A Q U E E N

OMFG ITS THE CITADEL ok ok IT'S HAPPENING EVERYBODY CALM DOWN

*inhales*

*SCREAMING*

"Even pooping hurts now" MAN don't I feel that, Morty? :"D

A Morty in a labcoat, now my life is complete!

"I like crayons" ok but he DEFINITELY ate crayons as a kid-

ITS THE PRESIDENT MORTY OK ITS HAPPENING ITS HAPPENING AAAA-

Ok but prez's "aw geez" is the fakest I've ever heard in my life-

Wait. Wait. Wait. OUR Rick came up with the Citadel???

Hehe, he's saying "evil Rick" in quotations (ok but fr I actually hate the nickname "evil Morty" btw ajsjaksj- i don't think it's fair to call him that when we dont even know what he wants-!)

The whole Morty thing is fucked up, but the worst part is... it makes sense. I mean, if Mortys are considered so easily "disposable" and die so much that Morty replacement vouchers are a thing, of course they'd ensure that there's enough to go around. Of course there'd be enough to be "replacements"...

When our Morty says "liar!", it's angry, indignant... when Prez says it, he just sounds... tired. Like it's something he accepted a long time ago. It's not even an insult or an outcry for him. It's just... the truth.

damn i guess "evil Morty" is going to permanently stick now >:")

Morty jumping into and being carried in Rick's arms euheheiehwewheiwe

CANON BACKSTORY FOR RICK LETS GOOOO

I always assumed Rick just- showed up at Beth's door one day instead of CRASHING INTO THE GARAGE AIDKAJ-

beth's face ;-;

Aw Rick carrying mort

"Now everyone can shut up about it" LOL

Ooh, nice outfit change. I have to admit, the all-black does suit Prez best lol

Finally, an explanation as to what the central finite curve is! I thought i was just dumb for not getting it-

"Jackshit, I'm leaving" MOOD TBH

King SHIT

(Ok but i love how his motivation isn't to take power or to even get revenge, he just wants... to leave. ;-;)

"You guys really ARE bred for forgiveness" AKDJAKDKS yeah... that's why we love them though!

OH FUCK ITS THE PIANO HERE WE GOOOOOO

HELL YEAH EPIC VERSION (...lowkey... kinda sounds like a kazoo akdjsksj lowkey ruined the vibe LMAO im sorry)

YELLOW! YELLOW PORTAL! YELLOW??1?1 YELLOW-!!! Y E L L LOEW.

(I wonder if the yellow has to do with it being outside the central finite curve (maybe all multiverses inside there meant the portals were green because blah blah atomic makeup or whatever-) or if Eyepatch somehow developed his own, completely individual fluid.

If Rick has no portal fluid... how are they going to get home? Or knowing him it'll be easy akdjaksja

Oh also i forgot to mention HHHDJDJDNDJDSNEJSNSJSNEJSNSJSNSJSNJSSNSJSJSJJAJA MORTY AND RICK COMING TOGETHER IN WHAT WILL FINALLY SEEM TO BE AN EQUAL PARTNERSHIP AND RICK GETTING MORTY TO HELP PUSH THE THING THAT SAID PARTNER REQUIRED THEREBY IMPLYING RICK FINALLY CONSIDERS MORTY HIS PARTNER WHICH CAN HONESTLY BE TAKEN HOWEVER YOU WANT

RICKORTY NATION RISE UP AUUUYYYY

WE JUST! KEEP! WINNING!!!!!!

also someone get mr poopybutthole some therapy, please. Dr Wong, hopefully-

[ephemerlskies]

constant craving 03 | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

[other members - seokjin]

⇢ genre: drabble series, ANGST, bestfriend!au, unrequited love, the same idiocy just in a different font 

⇢ word count: 4k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption (drunk jungkook makes his first and final appearance enjoy it while you can), vehicular misdemeanor (drive the speed limit kids), an all out emotional and verbal brawling, a lack of communication on one end and a communicational vomit on the other, seokjin appearance for about .02 seconds, the entirety of this is just.... angst

⇢ summary: your dates with Seokjin had become a somewhat consistent fixture in your schedule, however, jungkook's itinerary seemed to clash with yours when he called you after a night of drinking for reasons you assumed to be him helplessly pleading for a safe return home.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: whew, okay.... this was probably the most argumentative fic i have ever written so prepare yourself. i hope you all enjoy this god awfully angsty installment of the series! also, yes, jungkook is a sentimental drunk and you all know it

part three: i love you

It's true. It's always the biggest pills that are the most difficult to swallow. And if you could compare someone as elusive as Jungkook to anything, it would be the largest pill imaginable. The kind that hurts the first try, then when you drink half your body weight in water, the Jungkook-emblazoned pill forces down your esophagus no easier than the first gulp. You were still holding it in your mouth, pretending that pill wasn't about to dissolve and stain your mouth forever.

And that was the whole process, just to get over Jungkook. Because getting over him wasn't a one-step program. It was waking up everyday, training and retraining your mind not to think of him first thing in the morning. It was resisting the urge to press the send button on multiple texts and funny videos you knew would make him laugh. It was refusing his calls and every memory that would saunter in your mind and compel you to ask him to watch a movie or order takeout.

It was saying yes to Seokjin when he asked you on a date. And, it was doing your best to sever that instinct of yours to ask Jungkook for advice.

But old habits die hard, and this one still clung onto the bit of breath it wielded. That explained why your idiot of a best friend was sitting on your couch, offering half-hearted nods whenever you would walk out draped in a new outfit.

"Okay, this one?" You twirled around, as if doing so would make you any less skeptical of how you looked. And you were never one to scrutinize your appearance so closely, but this was the date. The one that might light the torch to a brighter romantic future and lead you to someone other than the man who could never be yours to begin with.

"Yeah. Cool." At this point, five outfits in, he wasn't paying any attention at all. He couldn't even bring himself to pretend, his eyes lazily fixed onto your dvd player.

"Jungkook, you didn't even look! Let me guess. You wanna play video games. Is that why you're giving fuck-me-eyes to my T.V. set?" You knew a laugh was far along, but you hoped that would get some sort of reaction out of him. Unfortunately, your words were barely registered for a good ten seconds, though, it felt much longer.

"Hm? Oh, sorry. Just tired, I guess." Jungkook said through barely parted lips. You knew when he couldn't even pronounce his words properly, something he took more seriously than others due to the hauntings of a certain speech impediment, there was definitely something wrong.

Things felt off from the moment he walked into your house. Judging from the way he avoided your hug, that alone suggested a sort of imbalance. It was a casual greeting exchanged between the two of you so often that when you lifted your arms to embrace him, it was born of reflexive association. Like Pavlov's dog, trained to hug him the moment you saw him. But the oddity of him almost discretely walking past you before any contact could be made wasn't where the tension bordered.

Following his arrival, he would have littered a few snarky remarks about how messy your kitchen was, while already scavenging through your fridge, just to get a rouse out of you. And Jungkook wouldn't call himself a connoisseur of all things fabric and fashion, but he surely would have a few thoughts consisting more than two-worded responses. But he just sat on your couch, armed with a face any poker player would commend, and gave you insincere cool's or nice's when need be.

"Okay, what's up? Is it Irene?" You sat down since taking a break to figure out what Jungkook was thinking felt better than continuing your self-absorbed fashion show.

"Kinda... We broke up. Well, she broke up with me or... I don't know. It was weird." It bothered you a bit too much that he didn't even look at you. But if he had, then you would have seen a film of red dousing his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Kook. Is there anything I can do? Anything at all? Want me to egg her house?" This time, he did laugh. You felt relieved he could at least ease slightly back into his expressive self, even if it was just a fraction of what he usually was. A fraction of Jungkook was more than enough for you.

"Nah, no need to go to jail for me. It's not like I didn't see it coming, and apparently she felt the same. Whatever." He let out a sigh that sounded trapped in for a while, then sat up. "We have more important things to worry about."

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe that. Jungkook, literally a week ago you told me she was the love of your life! And now you're just like 'yeah, whatever, I saw it coming.'" You used your notorious 'man voice', which was just yours lowered a few octaves, knowing it would crack another smile along Jungkook's lips. "Come on, I know you love her. This must hurt a lot. I wish... I wish there was something I could do."

You knew exactly what you were doing. Self-sabotage under the guise of consoling your friend. Clearly, it was selfish and regressive to use Jungkook's heartbreak as a means to avoid doing what you could never do before, what you knew deep down you probably would never be able to do: swallow that pill. And what felt even more pathetic than that was the stale, yet persisting hope that he would ask you to stay.

And that's when reality gave you the most gutting and obvious sign. Jungkook was your best friend, the man you had to lug home when he was too drunk to drive, let alone speak coherently or stand. He was the person that buys you ice cream when you're sad, but just as quick to cancel plans with you when Irene needed him. He was just a friend. You'd never be the person he chose, and it nearly made you angry at him for not seeing it all this time.

So, what he said next made everything he was most likely unaware of all too clear to you.

"No, you go have fun. I'll just... chill here?" It was his avoidant way of asking to stay the night, because you knew him to never sleep alone when he had an ache in his heart. "Maybe raid your pantry and use your Netflix account to binge some shows?"

"Fine. Only 'cause I can't say no to you when you're like this." His smile was reimbursement enough for all the food you'd have to restock and the electricity bill that would be higher than usual.

But what he did next, you could almost never forgive him for. It was so subtle, as though it could have passed as an accident or an act he was trying to perform secretly, without any intention of you even noticing. And how could you not notice? The far too temporary and entirely disarming linger of his hand on yours.

Now, you were always one to decipher his most subtle mannerisms, but this one felt beyond the reins of your perceptiveness. It could have been a small gesture of a thank you, but the gentle, and what one could even describe as sentimental, way his skin pressed against yours bore no semblance of a mere expression of gratitude. And it wasn't possible this was a caress of love, because he was already low on currency in that field, spending it completely on Irene.

So, what was it?

How would you describe the way he rested his hand on yours, as if asking you to stay without words, yet punctuating it quick enough to justify it a coincidental form of contact, that your hand just happened to be where his hand was?

"Well, I'm gonna go eat through my problems." Jungkook stood up before you could bat away the wetness in your eyes from your momentary refusal to blink, as if that would somehow help you visualize the meaning of what just happened.

"Oh- Okay. I, um... I should get going." So you did. You walked out your door, and made a decision beyond the demands of your devotion to Jungkook.

Because it probably meant nothing, and he was your best friend, after all.

---

It was easy with Seokjin. And surprisingly enough, that wasn't a bad thing.

You had come to realize everyone craves that passionate kind of love because, in the movies, that's the blueprint for what love should feel like. But that's all it is, something pretty and shiny enough to work into a film. Make believe. And it could never extend beyond the realm of silver screens, where best friends don't magically fall in love and passion awarded more broken hearts than you could count.

Besides, your heart was worn.

See, your heart is a muscle. It works itself to the bone keeping you alive, willing your lungs to breathe, administering blood to each vein and so on. To strain it for someone who was already in love was functionally inefficient. The heart, like any other muscle, grows tired. It can exhaust itself the same way your hand aches after writing for too long.

You needed a break from the gripping emotional aerobics that is and was loving Jeon Jungkook. So, it sufficed that Seokjin was easy. No more overexertion, no more aches and pains and residual soreness occupying your chest, no more of any of that. Because you knew Seokjin liked you, which was safe and easy knowing there was no point mapping out the possible meanings of every inflected word or shrug or smile. They were simply words and shrugs and smiles with him.

And yet, the thing about giving your heart a 'break' is the period succeeding it. When you were finished resting, you knew who would be waiting for you. Who you would always wait for.

"___! Hello?! I can't hear you! It's too loud!" It wasn't really that loud, your idiot of a best friend was just that drunk. You couldn't tell what concerned you more, the fact that his hearing degenerated when he was, from the sound of it, seven shots deep or that this was the third of alcohol-induced call for this week.

"Where are you?" You asked through a sigh, eyes trained on your Twitter feed and ears occupied with the urgent voice blaring through the speaker phone.

And since it was the third time this week, you were not even half-amused by the repetitive stunt he was pulling.

"I don't know... I walked out and now I'm out and I don't know." The hiccup following his messy sentence was comically textbook 'too drunk'. “Hey, we should take a trip! We should, like, go somewhere!”

“The only place you should be going is home.”

“See, I would totally do that, but I have no idea where I am. Why are these street signs so hard to read?” The end and beginning of each word blended together, rendering that sentence one long, slurred word.

By now, the step by step plan synthesized by you had been memorized. And even though you labored your brain to rewire any feelings leaving you at his beck and call, it clearly hadn't been proficient since your keys had already been gathered and his whereabouts programmed in your GPS via his location services.

"You're so annoying." It might have been rude of you to want him to feel guilty, but it was just as rude of him to interrupt your one night off, which was supposed to be spent with Seokjin, with his intoxicated antics. "I'm coming to pick you up."

"Yo- u are? I love you sooo much. You're the best friend ever, ya know that?" Overly emotional professions was your que to drive fifteen miles over the speed limit so he didn't do something stupid enough to land himself in an ICU.

"Okay, I'm almost there. I think I see you. Wave for me?"

The slumped silhouette you were squinting at began to frantically throw its arms side to side, making you both laugh and pull over so he could drag himself into your passenger seat. And, if you were being honest, he looked better as the blackened shadow of himself.

Jungkook, in all his glory, had his shirt almost fully turned backwards, hair ruffled into a mess, and face as red as the time you and him laid on the beach until your skin punished you with a second degree burn. And all those factors didn't amount to how he smelled like he bathed for hours inside a hand sanitizer bottle.

"God, you're a mess, Jungkook." You said that as jokingly as possible, but meant the sternness embedded in each word. Jungkook was a mess, physically and mentally.

"Hey! You're judging me! Stop being th-o mean, ___." Whenever he was this drunk, his lisp made more appearances in his speech than when he wasn't.

You hated how easily it reminded you of when you were in middle school and he was still navigating and rehearsing through his speech patterns. In middle school, when he was the sweet boy with his only fault being his lisp, who gave you his hoodie and a compassionate smile upon meeting you because your current bully plotted the embarrassment of a lifetime with that piece of chocolate on your seat. In middle school, when Jungkook was the only person in your grade who was kind enough to be kind and true to his word when he pledged his loyalty as your best friend. Forever.

With just one word, you were that timid little middle schooler again, helplessly and unconditionally in love with Jungkook.

Hauling Jungkook, who was more muscle than bone and flesh, over to his door was an art form you had trained, practiced, and mastered about thirty or so times before this one. He weighed about twice as much as you could normally carry, and nonetheless, he was out of your car and in his house in no time.

After you locked the door, you turned around to meet Jungkook, rendering the door frame into a crutch and effectively detaining you between his body and the solid wood behind you.

If you weren't so reminiscent in the car seconds before this, then the vodka-scented souvenir on his breath would have gagged you. However, being this close to him, feeling the warmth of his body consuming and overpowering yours, just made you want to sink into him even more and give him everything you had to offer.

His head was hung so when you looked up, you were greeted with Jungkook's lazy smile that gave his lips a boyish asymmetry and draped his eyelids halfway down his irises. And he had you spooled around him so tightly, this look just made him all the more appetizing.

"Kook, we gotta get you to bed, buddy." You tried to ward him off by weaponizing the most strictly platonic nickname you could think of, partnered with a neighborly pat on the back.

It was mostly to remind yourself that this man, who was an inch too close to your face, was your friend, and that in less than ten minutes you were expected to see Seokjin, but from the way he was looking at you, as if he reached into the depths of your heart to devour all your feelings for him and make them his own, you had to remind him of the universally accepted best friend boundaries.

No deep, romantic gazing into each other's eyes. No intimate activity that could be a precursor to anything more affectionate than a hug. No doing exactly what you two were doing as of now.

"Don't call me that." You hoped his aggression against what you said was merely his inebriated irrationally talking, and as always, his emotions were far beyond his control.

And, shamefully, you also hoped it was because he actually did feel the way you felt. What if he wanted the date that Seokjin was going to get tonight and he wanted all the hand holding and none of the back patting, a 'baby' instead of a 'buddy'?

"What? You're drunk-"

"Don't." Before you could drag him by the arm to his bed, a firm palm settled on your torso and closed the gap between you and the door while widening the gap an inch further between Jungkook and his bed, where he would fall asleep without the warmth of the only person he wanted. "___, please."

His voice was strangled with desperation and Jungkook was depleted of all resistance. He just needed to drink you up. To fill himself with the nourishments of your lips, your body, you.

"What-" He could have silenced you easily with a 'shh' or a finger to your lips. Or anything to your lips except his lips.

His lips. They were greedy and giving all at once. Making soft and intimate ministrations against yours as he kissed you before you had the chance to register what was going on. And even when you did, you let his tongue slide into your mouth. This moment was brimming with all the spontaneity you could ever be prepared for, and though it was new, there was no denying that kissing him felt like finally coming home just from the amount of times you had played this moment out in your daydreams. Plus, Jungkook seemed to ease his tongue along yours a bit too confidently for this to be the first time the idea of kissing you has ran through his mind. 

You're being stupid, you told yourself and Jungkook, but that didn't matter when you were finally allowed a taste of what it felt like to be kissed and touched and possibly even loved by Jungkook.

Your shirt was bunched halfway up your torso, his body pressed to your front a reprisal for the chill of the door against your back. Jungkook was, admittedly, a phenomenal kisser even when the lens of sobriety wasn't available to him. The way he ran his hands along the bare of your back like some desperate pilgrimage to discover the undiscovered parts of your body and took your bottom lip between his teeth like it was his to begin with was nearly enough to undress you from all your defenses, from all your clothing, from every single barrier that kept you from Jungkook for the past twelve years and let him have you. And finally have him. It was nearly enough.

Your hands divorced his body from yours before your lips and heart were ready to let go. It was painful, but the heartbroken look wringing his face into a tearful frown was even more so.

"No." You pushed him away further only to walk past him and seek refuge in the open space of his living room. "You don't get to do this."

"What? What does-"

"You don't get to drunkenly kiss me, Jungkook. You don't get to hold me and kiss me like you love me. It's not fair."

"Hey-"

"Because you don't. You don't love me..." If you weren't too busy finally permissing the hot words to boil over from pure anger, then you would have felt the even hotter tears wetting the expanse of your cheek.

"Well, how the hell would you know that?" His voice drowned out the loud pumps of blood beating in your ears like a drum.

"Because it would have happened ten years ago, Jungkook! Jesus, it would have been obvious from the beginning. So if you love me, if you really love me, then it wouldn't be happening now, like this. When you were drunk out of your mind and still vulnerable from Irene."

"You don't know anything." If that were the case, then Jungkook somehow knew even less than you.

"Yeah, clearly. I didn't know you'd stoop this low. I thought I was a lot of things to you. But I never thought I'd be some rebound."

"A rebound? You think that's what this is?" Jungkook seemed upset, but to your knowledge he had absolutely no reason to be angry with you.

He was, as always, displacing the burdens he didn't feel like dealing with on you, moderating you into an emotional punching bag. But what hurt more than those scrapes and bruises, was the aftermath of letting him fuck his worries away which would have consisted of him telling you the next morning that it meant nothing, expecting you to nod demurely, maybe even console him, and act like your chest hadn't been emptied and filled with his baggage in the most murderous way.

"Fuck you."

"Wow. You're really being like this? You really wanna talk about this now?

"You know what? Yeah I wanna talk about it. I wanna talk about the years. The years, Jungkook, that I've spent loving you! I- I wanna talk about the amount of times I've spent thinking about you when you were with her, and I probably didn't even cross your mind. Or how about the fucking thousands of times I've spent crying over you because I knew I was never going to be the one you'd want to wake up next to! And I had to watch! I had to fucking watch you fall in love over and over and probably wonder why I didn't fall in love either. It was you. It was always you, Jungkook."

"___, I-"

"No." His attempt to intervene was quickly denied. You were too angry to let him speak, too tired to carry these grievances any longer. "You don't get to talk. It's all out there. I loved you. I still love you! Fuck, I'm trying to get over you. And it's like you know. It's like you can read my mind or something and strike right when I'm about to recover from the last wound."

Your breathing was as heavy as Jungkook's was shallow. He could only stand, breathlessly, only curse himself for ever being so blind and regret taking advantage of your love even if it were entirely unknowingly, just to let his heart sink deeper until it fell completely out of his chest while his tears fell just as heavily.

"I'm done, Jungkook. I'm tired of trying to outrun you in this race that you're not even competing in. I'm tired of loving you. So, I'm done."

All the words Jungkook wanted to say, the words pleading for sound, carving deep gashes in his throat and leaving him vocally impaired, could never amount to the apology you deserved. Maybe this once, he wouldn't leave you wounded. He would gather the nobility to shut up and let you move on from him. Because you wouldn't know from his lapse of silence that he was empathizing with every bit of pain he caused you, and he hated himself more than you did right now for allowing such a pain to ever fall in your hands. But, where you knew you could someday forgive him for it, he knew he would never forgive himself.

He could scrounge for a few things to respond with, pour the weight of his emotions into the scarcity of his words, but he needed to let you leave and be selfless for once in his life.

"I should go. Drink some water before bed, okay?" You mumbled to choke back your tears, though it wouldn't matter letting a few more tears escape since you were previously sob-ranting and he'd seen you cry like this a hundred times before. He was the shoulder you never thought you'd have to miss leaning on, but walking out of his door punctured a hole in you. An empty space in your heart designed for the one person who had crushed the rest of it.

If this were a movie, with star-crossed lovers and a fiery infatuation blooming into what everyone secretly wants: true love, then Jungkook would have ran out of his door and held you close, professing his undying love for you. He would have won you back, reassembled your broken heart into fullness, kissed you beneath the brilliance of the moon, and lived happily ever after.

But this wasn't a movie, and he did none of those things.

Instead, he stumbled his way into his kitchen. He poured himself that cup of water you advised. He thought about how even when you swore to him you were done, you spared a bit of compassion to remind him to take care of himself. He wondered how deserving he was of everything you are. He touched his lips, searching for the echo of yours. He fell into his queen-sized bed meant for two, alone, and whispered the words that were ever eclipsing to the space beside him where he longed for you to lay so you could hear them for yourself.

"I love you."

a/n: sorry to put you through that, but the idea was born and i am but a humble vessel to bring it to life <3 hehe thank you all so much for reading and like i said, don't worry there will be a happy ending!!! (and possibly a longer-than-drabble final chapter to this series)

[wingz-of-shit]

Nowhere to grieve

I messed up but here was the ask by anon: Hello there... I'm broken. 139.. it just wasn't right at all. Is it selfish that I wanted levihan? All the signs are there (plane, "heart" and all) but it doesn't feel like a proper goodbye? Do you have Levi HC after the war? But before the three years skip? Good day

*

Hmm, hi anon. If you expected me to fix that heart of yours, well you're mistaken. I love angsty HC. And that chapter 139 certainly helped with the writer's block. And this is why I put this together for you. Brace yourself.

Nowhere to grieve

Summary: Armin helps Levi cope with his grief after the war

Words: 1200

Armin looked over his shoulder at the man that once stood as humanity's strongest. He was now wheeling himself toward the mess hall, painfully aware of the physical condition he was in. As commander of the corps, Armin found out that the job didn't only mean leading soldiers into battles like he might have thought at the beginning of his career; it also meant caring and worrying for them. The former commander certainly taught him so. For all the years Hange Zoe had been commander, Armin had never worried about being left alone. He had found a family. A bizarre one, but still. A family. And now the eldest member of this family was in pain.

"Did Heichou eat today?" Armin asked Jean. The latest shook his head looking equally worried. "He refused. Says he's not hungry."

"Understandable."

Understandable indeed. Ymir's curse had been broken for less than a month, and a month was not enough at all to grieve decades' worth of dead people. Armin had checked the records and felt sick when the Titan War's number of victims came out. There were many citizens alright, most of them were from Shiganshina, all those years ago. But the ones who had suffered the most were the survey corps.

Shinzou wo sasageyo.

"What can we do?" Jean asked.

"Find out the reason he's like this?" Armin mumbled, although, he knew the reason why his Heichou was acting this way. He'd seen the fleeting looks between his two superiors, he'd seen the closeness. Hange Zoe, former Commander, was the reason his Captain had not recovered yet.

When Armin was chosen as the next commander, he had considered it as a promotion, or a pride. But then, in the small time that was a month, he'd understood that no one should endure the job of Commander. It all stood on mental strength. Which one of them would be the last to break? Which one of them was the most likely to think with their brain and not their heart? Which one of them was ready to die for the cause?

"I think I know what to do." Armin hesitantly walked towards his Captain, well to his subordinate, and laid a hand on his shoulder. Never before had he had such an intimate touch for the man who jerked away at the intrusion.

"Arlert." His icy gaze pierced his soul and all confidence was shattered away. "The fuck you want?"

"I'd like to show you something." He gestured at the wheelchair's handles. "May I?" Levi nodded his head suspiciously. Armin focused on his breathing and began to calmly talk.

"I know you don't agree with how things were done. Many don't. But I don't think there was a right way to ever end this war. You may say there were other options but if you consider each one of them it always seems to lead to a massacre. We've tried talking with Marley before. Hange San tried to do that. It led to betrayal. It led to where we stand today. Captain... I don't know if this can be any comfort but those who are dead were probably meant to be. It's thanks to their faith, to their sacrifice that the war ended at last. And it hurts, I'm not pretending to know half of your grief but I still lost many friends in this battle. And I rather think of them with a proud smile. Look at us: it's finally over and- "

"Tch." Armin looked at Levi surprised. "Sounds like a happy ending to you." He turned around in the wheelchair. "I knew you more intelligent than that Arlert."

A happy ending? A fucking happy ending? How could this ever be a happy ending. "Look, I'm trying to see the best of what's left. It's not easy but I have hope. And hope will lead this world to brighter days, I'm sure. If I lose hope then yes, the battle will be truly lost." Armin walked at a faster pace towards the cemetery. "I lost my best friend, I lost so many people I cared for... The come out of this war is not a happy ending. It's sad and we're alive. But do we have to make this life a nightmare? Can't we just pretend that...it's going to be okay, and maybe it's even worth it?"

There was a long silence then. Only the quivering of leaves in the wind filled the space. It waltzed over the grassy road and rushed to the large area covered in white crosses far away. The military cemetery.

"They would have wanted for us to be happy. She would have." Armin added carefully; he watched closely as a shiver shook Levi's body at the mention of the pronoun.

"What are we even doing here?" Levi asked when they reached the cemetery. He could see the skepticism in his eyes. Levi hadn't visited the cemetery once since they came back. He hadn't come to the ceremony where they said every single name of their fallen comrades.

"It's time for a little prayer Captain."

"A prayer?" He paused startled. "Do I really have to?"

"Yes, Captain. Let's find a tombstone." Now Armin could see the hurt in his eyes.

"Is this a joke? She's not here, remember?" His voice was cold and bitter, but it was mainly grief that Armin heard.

"We're going to pretend. And they're all together anyway, what difference does it make?"

He strolled through the white crosses. "It's nice to say goodbye. It's important. "Here, these are nice. I'll leave you alone to it."

Levi stared in disbelief at Arlert's back as he was hastily walking away. Had he really brought him here? And asked him to say goodbye? To whom? To her? He looked back at the white cross, the name on it echoed in his mind. He'd known this person, a soldier that died on their very first expedition years ago.

They're all together anyway.

Levi rolled his eye. He was actually going to talk to the cross. He closed his eye and let the vision he forced away every night fill his mind. And there she was, smiling brightly at him after nearly having her head bitten off by Sawney or Bean or whatever fucking titan. And then he could see her riding fiercely ahead of him to the ocean. And then he could feel the warmth of her skin when they were away from gazes. He could hear her voice in all its mood: happiness, grief, anguish, love. And then he could see the sparks surrounding her form and engulfing her in the flames of eternal rest.

"I miss you. He paused

I had a dream about you the other night... you know that cabin in the forest? It was warm.

And..." Levi stopped talking, the lump in his throat had grown too overwhelming. Stupid Arlert. This was his fault.

The way back to the SC's building was shorter than Levi had expected, his mind was filled with memories. Could he have the life they all fought for? Could it have meaning without them? Her?

Shinzou wo sasageyo.

He'd try. For them. For her.

Right then the wind rose again and ruffled his hair in a familiar way. Levi looked around, he was sure he had felt her. May it be a ghost or a spirit, she was looking over him.

*

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Who wants to cry with me now?

Update: I saw this post and it's kinda the same vibe haha, check it out too.

[robinrunsfiction]

Hello!! Could you write a vampire gerard x reader one day..? And it's kind of fluffy with Gerard being overprotective or jealous? If so thank you and have a good day!!

Vampire-tine’s Day 2021 - Day 2

Pairing: Vampire Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: General Requested By: Anon Word Count: ~2,000 Author’s Note: When I started this request, I kinda missed the “fluffy” part and the beginning part was angsty AF. But! Luckily I have @mariawritesfanfic in my life (for like a billion reasons) who gave me an idea, direction, and helped me basically get this story where it is today! Hope you all enjoy! Also sorry it’s late, I didn’t intend to put this one up tonight, but I failed to get the one I meant to post today done sooo

It was another bitterly cold night, but Gerard couldn't feel it, and it didn't matter anyway. What mattered was him was making sure (YN) got home safely. He watched from the shadows and the rooftops as she approached her building, but in the distance Gerard heard something that caught his attention. In a flash, the monster was in front of her fangs gleaming and Gerard launched into action as well.

“Don’t touch her,” Gerard snarled as jumped in front of (YN).

“I won’t hesitate to go through you to get to her,” the vampire snapped back. “I want a fresh meal, and this one smells delicious.”

Gerard heard a small whimper behind him before he threw himself at the offending creature. It wasn’t long before the monster, weak from hunger, gave up, running off to tend to his wounds.

“(YN),” Gerard murmured as he turned to find her still frozen in fear, hands clasped over her mouth, eyes wide.

“Ge-Gerard?” She stammered. “Gerard, what was that? What are you?!”

“I can explain, but let’s get inside before he comes back. Can I come inside with you?”

(YN) nodded as she reached in her bag with shaking hands to pull out her keys.

“Gerard, can you please explain what just happened?” (YN) asked when she shut the door behind them.

Gerard sighed. “There’s been a rise in vampire attacks, and I know you work late so I’ve been watching to make sure you get home safe.”

(YN)’s face softened at his words, before she was shaking her head in confusion again. “Vampire attacks?! And how have I never noticed you behind me? Are you telling me you’re a,” she trailed off.

“Vampire? Yea, I probably should have mentioned it before,” Gerard replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "To be fair, I'd only just gotten turned when we met."

“Well this answers a lot of questions I’ve had,” (YN) murmured to herself as she made her way to the couch, lost in thought.

“What?”

“Huh? Nothing!” She replied quickly, blushing as she looked up at him. “But how do you keep yourself from wanting to bite me?”

Gerard swallowed hard. He wanted to close the distance between them and take her in his arms and show her how he felt, but he couldn’t. All he could do was be mostly honest. “Because I’d be devastated if anything happened to you. More than anything I want to keep you safe.”

(YN) ducked her head awkwardly, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. “I can’t ask you to follow me around forever like my own personal bodyguard.”

“There is another way, but I’d understand if you wanna say no. Please don’t feel like you have to do this,” he said starting to pace nervously.

“Wha-what is it?” She asked, her voice sounding a bit strained.

“It’s called a protection mark. It’d help me sense when you’re in a dangerous situation, and I could be there in a flash to help protect you.”

(YN) nodded thoughtfully, taking in his words. “But you wouldn’t know everything I’d be thinking or feeling or doing, right?”

“Right,” he nodded. “Just when you need protecting.”

“I… I guess that would be a good idea,” she replied.

“If you aren’t sure, you don’t have to,” he reassured her.

“No! I, I mean, I think it’d be the best idea. I’d really not like to be bitten by a vampire.”

Gerard winced. “Umm… that’s part of the process.”

“Oh,” she breathed, her hand going to her neck protectively.

“It won’t be deep, just a small wound, I promise.”

“And you won’t turn into a bloodthirsty monster?”

“No, I’d never do anything to hurt you,” he said softly, sitting down next to her.

(YN) nodded. “Ok, I trust you, Gerard.”

Gerard took a steadying breath and leaned in, feeling overwhelmed with nerves. He knew how to do this, Ray had explained it all before, but being this close to (YN) in this context was something else all together. He tried to ignore the vampire instincts screaming in his brain about how good her blood smelled, how amazing it would taste, that’s not what he was doing.

He bared his fangs, and sank into the soft skin of (YN)’s neck. She let out a whine that turned into a whimper and he wanted to stop, but he had to make the wound deep enough. As he drew back, the taste of her blood hit his tongue and he had to stop himself from drinking more. 

“The worst is done,” he said encouragingly to her. She opened her eyes and he smiled, hoping to reassure her.

“You can, umm, the bit that’s bled, you can have it,” she said, stumbling over her words, cheeks heating up at the offer.

Gerard’s heart would have been beating a mile a minute if he was still a human. He leaned back in and carefully licked away the small rivulets of blood. It was better than anything he could have imagined. The best meals he had as a human were nothing compared to her.

Once the bleeding stopped, he brought his fingertip to his fang, piercing the skin. It took a moment for a bead of blood to pool up before he held it over the wound, allowing it to drip in. He drew another droplet and let it fall into the other hole.

“My blood is now mixed in yours,” he explained softly, looking up at her again. “Not enough to turn you into a vampire, but just enough for me to know when you’re in danger.”

“Now what?” She asked just as softly.

“You don't need me hanging around you anymore, so I can go,” he said, getting up.

“No,” she said quickly, reaching out and grabbing his hand. "I mean, you can stay and hang out if you want. I'd love to hear about being a vampire, if you wouldn't mind telling me about it."

Gerard smiled and sat back down next to her. "Yea, I don't really get to talk about it much. What do you wanna know?"

Gerard stayed until just before dawn, having spent all night talking with (YN). They'd been friends for a while, but no longer having to hide his true identity made him feel even closer to her. It also did nothing to help the crush he had on (YN), as well as his instinct to protect her at all costs. 

When he returned to his basement apartment, he typed out a quick message to Ray, letting him know what happened that night and climbed into bed. But sleep wasn't coming anytime soon, as all he could think about was (YN).

A few nights later, Gerard was walking into a party at someone's house. He wasn't the type to go out without good reason, but a text from (YN) inviting him was more than good enough.

"Gerard!" She called when she saw him, waving him over.

"Hey," he smiled as he reached her. She threw her arms around him, giving him a tight hug, before pulling back sheepishly. "Sorry, I guess I missed you," she laughed nervously.

He smiled back. "That's ok, I missed you too. You've been ok?"

"Yea. So far so good I think," she shrugged and that's when Gerard realized he was holding her hand. He wasn't even sure when it happened, but he liked the way they fit together. "I haven't had to work as late so I'm not walking alone in the dark, but I'm still glad to know you're there if I need you."

They settled into a comfortable, easy conversation, as if they were the only two people in the entire party.

"Hey Gee. Gee… Gerard Way!" Ray shouted, finally getting Gerard's attention.

"What?" Gerard asked a little annoyed, and (YN) giggled.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Ray asked.

"Yea, sure," he said, giving (YN) 's hand a reassuring squeeze before following Ray out to the back deck.

Outside, Ray's breath came out in clouds, filling the bitter night air. Gerard noted that the moon was nearly full and that meant the werewolves would be out in a night or two and he should warn (YN), just to be safe.

“How’s it going with (YN)?” Ray asked, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

“Everything seems fine so far,” Gerard replied hesitantly.

“But?”

“You know that I’ve had feelings for her for a long time, but ever since giving her that protection mark,” Gerard trailed off.

“Oh Gerard,” Ray sighed.

“What?!”

“You didn’t know tha-”

“Wait, shit, I think (YN)’s in trouble,” Gerard cut his friend off.

“At a party?” Ray asked skeptically, watching his friend run back inside.

Gerard pushed through the crowd, as if being led by an invisible thread to (YN). When he found her, she was backed into a corner, a tall, hulking man was looming over her, and she was clearly very uncomfortable and nervous. 

“Gee!” She exclaimed when she spotted him.

“(YN), are you ok? Is this guy bothering you?” Gerard asked.

“She’s fine,” the man snarled. “She doesn’t need any help from some greasy dork like you.”

“She’s not, and you need to leave her alone,” Gerard said trying to keep his voice calm.

“Make me,” the other man laughed darkly.

Gerard stepped forward and shoved him with all of the strength he could muster, launching the jerk across the room. His friends, noticing the commotion, started to make their way to where Gerard was standing protectively in front of (YN) once again.

“Hey Gee, let’s get outta here!” Ray called from by the door. Gerard grabbed (YN)’s hand and led her quickly out of the house. Once they were away from the party and certain they weren’t being followed, the three of friends settled into a comfortable pace 

“Are you ok?” Gerard asked, squeezing (YN)’s hand.

“Yea, thanks,” she smiled. “How’d you know I needed help back there? Was it the protection mark?”

“I think so?” Gerard replied, turning to look at Ray, who sighed again, stopping under a streetlight.

“I tried to explain this to you Gee, but I think you were a bit distracted,” Ray explained in an amused tone, shooting a glance toward (YN). “While the protection mark alerts the protector to when the bearer of the mark is in danger, it will also increase the bond between the protector and the bearer. Ya know, enhance anything that is already there.”

Gerard glanced over at (YN), she was already looking at him, and they both looked away nervously.

“Anyway, this is my place, I’ll see you two later,” Ray said, with a wave and heading up to the building they were in front of, leaving (YN) and Gerard alone.

“I’m sorry (YN), I wasn’t paying attention when Ray explained it all to me. I didn’t mean to make you, I mean, all I wanted,” he groaned, hanging his head in defeat.

“Gerard,” she said, reaching out and tilting his head up so she could look in his eyes. "You can tell me."

"I just like you so much, I asked Ray for advice and I got distracted imagining being your hero when he was explaining everything," he laughed, but his voice was tinged with sadness. He had a feeling (YN) was about to ask him to leave her alone forever.

But she was smiling softly up at him, her hand still resting gently on his cheek. That's when she leaned in, pressing her lips to his sweetly. The moment took him aback for a moment, but when he realized what was happening, he kissed her back with every bit of emotion he had been holding for her in his cold, unbeating heart. When she pulled back she was blushing lightly.

"Gee, remember what Ray said? It enhances feelings that are already there. I already liked you too. And now I know you like me back."

Gerard grinned. "Do you wanna come over to my place, it's not far."

"I'd love to," she smiled. "Hey, look, it’s almost the full moon. I don't have to worry about werewolves running around, do I?" She laughed.

Gerard just wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him as they headed down the street. "Oh (YN), I think I have a lot to tell you."