#but by God he'll scream and cry and year himself inside out over it even if he told himself that he would accept it

[melit0n]

3:35 to 4:10 in Levitate is so unbelievably comforting to me. In the best (and worst) way possible, it truly does feel like levitation.

The best way I can describe it is laying in someone's arms, lover, friend, foe or family, and simply basking in the comfort they give you. One arm wrapped, gently, around your middle, fingers tracing invisible patterns on your clothes, and the other hand softly combing through your hair as they whisper soft nothings in your ear. You're on the brink of sleep; half listening to their words and half being drawn in by the comfort of the drowsy void.

It's a warm hug that you never want to leave. (catch me replaying that part over and over)

[hippiegoth97]

Where Is My Mind?: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by me :)

Master List

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @usergeta @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n

Description: It's your two-year anniversary with Eddie, and you both spend the evening exchanging 'gifts'...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Smut, female reader, fingering, oral sex, squirting, consecutive orgasms, embarrassment, crying, overstimulation

Word Count: 4.8k

divider by @firefly-graphics

Where Is My Mind?

"Oh, God, Eddie!" You cry out as an overwhelming orgasm rocks through you. Your hands are tangled in Eddie's hair as he's been going down on you for the last hour or so. You’ve already cum three times, but he refuses to let up. You're soaked in sweat, your body sparking as he keeps licking and sucking on you to build you up again. "Baby, haven't you had enough? Your tongue must be getting tired." You whine, feeling your insides tighten in preparation for yet another orgasm.

He stops for a second to answer you. "Not at all angel, you taste so good. I could do this all night, and I love hearing you scream my name." He immediately dives back in, sticking his tongue inside your soaked cunt. His cock strains against his jeans, but he manages to get a little friction from kneeling against the side of his bed as he works on you.

Earlier tonight, the two of you had been celebrating your two-year anniversary. Eddie made spaghetti for dinner, and he gave you a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. He also made you a mixtape, one he said was perfect for eating you out. Eager to test it, he popped the tape into the portable stereo and pounced on you. You hadn't even had the chance to give Eddie his gift, he was too preoccupied stripping you of your clothes and kissing every inch of flesh on your body.

Eddie has managed to keep all of his clothes on, he knows he'll get what he desires from you soon enough. But he wants to show you just how much he loves you. You're his whole world, a queen ruling over his cynical heart. Until he met you, he'd never truly believed in love or romance before. He thought those things were just make-believe bullshit made up by The Man to force people into model nuclear families. But he swears the moment he laid eyes on you, everything changed for him.

Funnily enough, you'd met him in a land of make-believe, so to speak. A Renaissance Faire in Indianapolis, to be exact. You'd gone with some friends, the lot of you were highly obsessed with medieval times and the mythology surrounding it. Eddie went by himself, unable to convince anyone to go along with him. He figured this was the only way to experience anything resembling Lord of The Rings and D&D in real life. Neither of you had high expectations, you assumed it would be pretty cheesy or mostly meant for little kids.

Once you'd arrived however, what you saw before you blew your minds. The entrance to the Faire was a giant castle, with a moat and a drawbridge. Everyone was dressed up, and all the employees were deep within their characters. It was a fantasy nerd's paradise, you thought you'd died and gone to heaven. And you hadn't even stepped foot inside the fairgrounds yet. But once you paid the admission and walked through the gates, your brain exploded all over again.

There were stalls of handmade jewelry, wands, swords, leather-bound journals, costumes, tiaras, fairy wings, the list went on endlessly. A field was blocked off for the knights to joust on massive horses, and rows of games lined the other side of the grounds. There were fortune tellers, face painters, people dressed as fairies and elves and royalty. A regal food court boasted giant turkey legs, popcorn, many sweets and treats, and more than enough booze to knock you on your ass. It was all so much to take in, but in an odd way it felt like you'd been waiting to find a place like this your entire life.

You and your friends explored every inch of the Faire, unable to resist buying the cute trinkets from the little shops. You watched the noble knights joust for the honor of marrying the fine princess, the winner giving her a big kiss for everyone to see. It was surprisingly romantic, sending your heart aflutter. You've always loved mushy things like that, waiting for your own knight in shining armor to save you from your boring life.

After a while, your stomach started growling. Your friends wanted to keep playing the carnival games, one of which was throwing tomatoes at a jester's face as he insulted you. You told them you'd come right back, heading to the other side of the Faire to try one of those famous turkey legs. It's at this point that Eddie spotted you from afar, though you took no notice of him. Your stomach lead you blindly to the smell of roasting meat, blocking out everything else happening around you.

Eddie caught a glimpse of you as he was walking the other way to check out the games, stopping dead in his tracks. He saw you were dressed in a long, red chemise, which left your shoulders bare. A black, corseted overdress sat atop the chemise, pushing your tits up for the perfect amount of cleavage. Your hair was tied in braids, which were wrapped immaculately around your head. Some loose strands of hair framed your face, and he was instantly enchanted. He decided to follow you, to perhaps buy you an ale or something. He hadn't expected to really interact with anyone outside of the employees at the Faire, but you seemed special.

You sidled up to the stand selling the turkey legs, ordering one for yourself. You'd contemplated buying for your friends too, but the legs were probably too big to carry so many at that great of a distance. You paid for your food, and made your way to the busty woman selling beer. You were just about to order when you heard a voice speak to you. "May I be so bold as to buy a fair maiden some ale?" You turned to see where the voice came from, stunned to find a very handsome man standing before you. He was tall, slender, with long, curly hair and a devilish smile on his face. He was wearing a red, billowy shirt that exposed some of his chest, and tight, black leather pants that tied with laces in the front. Matching leather boots adorned his feet, and a rather large sword sat sheathed at his hip. His hand rested over the handle of the sword, which made you take notice of the chunky rings on his fingers. He was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, and he was talking to you.

You smiled at him, blushing at his deep brown eyes boring into you. "Why, thank you, kind sir. I'd be honored to indulge in a libation with you." You said, giggling at how silly you sounded with a terrible accent. He chuckled at you, reaching out for your hand. You gave it to him, blushing even harder when he planted a kiss to the back of it. He led you wordlessly to the line for drinks, ordering for you when it was finally your turn again. Once he paid, he found a nice quiet spot for you to talk. The two of you sat on a bench, knees touching as you positioned yourselves beside each other. You'd forgotten all about your turkey leg at this point, but you didn't really care to remember it when you were in the company of this mysterious man.

"So, what's your name, my lady?" He was still playing along, though you weren't sure how long the act could be kept up.

"Y/N. And yours?" You said coyly, sipping from your metal mug.

"Eddie, it's nice to meet you, Y/N. What brings you to the Faire?" He chugged some of his own drink, belching loudly which made you laugh. "Pardon me." He said sheepishly, wiping his mouth with his hand.

"I'm here with some friends. We've always liked medieval stuff, so we figured this would be a fun time." You couldn't keep speaking in Olde English, it was giving you a headache to think of the correct phrasing. Eddie took notice, relaxing his shoulders as it seemed he was also struggling to keep up. "What about you, Eddie? Are you here with anyone?" You asked, worried that maybe he had a girlfriend or something. A man as handsome as he was, he had to be taken, right?

"Nope, I'm here all on my lonesome. Well, until I saw you, the most gorgeous young woman I've ever seen." He put a hand on your knee suggestively, which made you tense up. You were struck by his words, no man had called you something so flattering before. Your eyes met his again, and you couldn't resist licking your lips. He continued speaking, much lower in volume. "And I also quite enjoy 'medieval stuff' as you called it, though I think you already figured that out." You set down your beer, and he put his aside as well. He brushed one of the stray strands of hair behind your ear, smoothly making a move to cup your cheek afterwards. "May I kiss you, princess?" He asked softly, his breath shaking with nerves. You'd barely spoken to each other, and yet there you were, centimeters away from your lips meeting.

"Yes, kind sir. You may." You replied, too caught up in anticipation to laugh. He closed the gap between you, gently pressing his mouth to yours. He tasted like beer, and tobacco. You were instantly hooked, pulling on his shirt collar to bring him closer to you. You both moaned down each other's throats, enamored by how thrilling it was to kiss someone you'd just met. You began to feel quite warm, tempted to straddle his lap right there for anyone to see.

A little bit later, the jester from earlier brought everyone's attention to you. He ran up to your bench, standing behind you as you kissed. "Well, it seems we doth have some rather rambunctious lovers in our midst! Perhaps we shall quell their burning lust, lest they shed their clothes for all eyes to see!" The jester jumped in the air, ringing a loud bell which hurt your ears. You broke apart, blushing madly at being called out. Passersby stopped to see this display, eager to watch your public humiliation. "Ah, and you dare to waste such fine ale? In favor of lashing tongues at one another? For shame!" He shouted, and the crowd mimicked his final words.

"FOR SHAME!" The bystanders were all laughing at you, though it was all in good fun. The jester picked up your mugs, holding them over your heads. You looked to Eddie, unsure of what to do. All he could do was stare back, blushing just as hard as you were while he shrugged his shoulders.

"FOR SHAME!" The jester laughed maniacally, dumping the remains of your drinks onto your heads. You shrieked as the cold beer soaked through your clothes and hair. You stood up, swatting at the jester in an attempt to hit him. He quickly dodged your blow, tutting at you. Eddie reached out to reel you in, but you took no notice. "Oh! I see you have quite the fire inside you, young maiden! Methinks one ought to quench thine whorish flames!" You felt another cold splash of liquid rain down onto you, much larger than the last. Eddie gasped, horrified that these people would go so far to humiliate you. You turned back around to see a burly man holding a large wooden bucket, which you guessed previously held the water that was poured onto your head. You glared at the jester again, unamused at getting soaked like that. "Oh, sweet lady. I beg thee to calm thyself. 'Tis all in good 'jest'!" He laughed again, dancing a jig before he went on his merry way. The onlookers also left to go about their business, the little show was over. Your friends caught the end of it, watching as you struggled to stand upright, the ground beneath you melting into sloppy mud.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Eddie asked quietly, reaching for your arm. You flinched at first, still shaken from being made a fool by the fool. You just nodded, trying not to cry. You knew it was just a joke, and you had made the mistake of making out in public when the performers loved any opportunity to make a silly interaction. Eddie pulled you close, innocently holding your waist to calm you. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault." He sounded sad, guilty for causing this whole ordeal.

"It's alright, I should've seen that coming. I'd heard the workers can be quite mischievous." You wiped your face with your hands, and your group came up to ask what happened. They were also very intrigued to find out who the handsome man next to you was. You explained it all, introducing them to Eddie. They eyed him up and down, making various approving noises or remarks in the most unsubtle way. You tried to apologize to Eddie for their rudeness, but he thought nothing of it, in fact he found it quite flattering. He walked with you and your friends to the exit, considering you being drenched made it quite uncomfortable to stay at the Faire.

You'd coincidentally parked your car right next to his van, and he clumsily dug around inside his vehicle to find a scrap of paper to write down his phone number for you. Eddie kissed you again before you parted ways, his wet hair rubbed against your cheeks as he slipped the paper into your hands. The feeling of his lips on yours stole the air from your lungs, but a warning honk from your friends signaled it was time to let him go. You held that little scrap of paper tightly the whole way home, eagerly dialing him later that evening. And the rest was history, from that moment on, you and Eddie had been inseparable.

Returning to the present, Eddie's tongue is furiously flicking against your clit to drive you over the edge for the fourth time this evening. An endless flow of moans falls from your lips, and Eddie drinks it all in. He loves the sounds you make, they're so vulgar and beautiful at the same time. He inserts two fingers into your soaking pussy, taking his mouth away to have a small break.

Eddie's eyes scan over your glistening body, watching you squirm and ball up the sheets with your hands. Your tits bounce as every touch he gives you makes your body jolt. Tears stream down your cheeks, your mouth fixed agape. "You're so gorgeous like this, sweetheart. So perfectly fucked for me. Do you want me to make you cum again?" He purrs at you, pumping his fingers inside you teasingly. His pace is excruciatingly slow, it brings you right to the edge without letting you fall off.

"Yes, please! I'm very close, Eds. Make me cum, I can't take the teasing." You're so needy for him, your tone making his cock even harder as you speak. He picks up speed, watching your head dig further into the pillow. Your back arches off the bed, and your pussy flutters around his fingers wildly. You're so, so close, and you want him to see you lose control. "Just like that, baby. Fuck, you make me feel so good." He adores when you praise him, it always casts his self-doubt about his performance aside.

"I'm happy to please you, sweetheart. Be a good girl and make a mess on my fingers." He coos at you, watching every micro-expression that swipes across your face. He moves his digits even faster inside you, using his thumb to rub vicious circles on your clit.

"Eddie!" You scream as another explosion of bliss engulfs you. Your legs shake violently, arousal pooling into Eddie's hand. Your insides are on fire, your abdomen sore from your muscles flexing involuntarily with every orgasm. He stills his fingers, letting your high fade away before slowly pulling them out. He brings them to his lips, hungrily sucking your juices from them. He moans at the taste, sucking down every last drop of you as his eyes flutter closed.

"Mmm, so fuckin' good, baby." Eddie observes you again, admiring how spent you look. You're panting, your face staring at the ceiling. Your hair clings to your sweat-soaked face, and your whole body glows with lust. Tremors rock through you randomly, making you whimper as they shock your clit. Eddie’s really done a number on you. You're sure if he dared to simply blow air against your pussy, you'd lose it all over again. He crawls over to you on the bed, laying next to you carefully. He turns your face to look at him, smiling lovingly at you. "Did you enjoy yourself, angel?" He asks.

"Y-yes, Eds." You stutter your words, shivering slightly as your sweat turns cold. He pulls you close, quickly warming you back up in his gentle arms. He kisses you tenderly, and you can't help melting into putty. "Do you want your present now, baby?" You ask quietly, nuzzling your head into his neck.

"Sure, sweetheart. Stay here though, I'll grab it." He lets you go, stepping off the bed to grab the small box you put on his dresser as he ambushed you earlier. He gets back into bed, bringing you back into his embrace. You quickly snuggle him again, eager for his body heat to radiate into you. Eddie opens the box, finding a beautiful ring inside. He removes it from the box, inspecting it closely. It's chunky and silver like the ones he has already, but in the middle is a large, blood-red stone in the shape of a heart. The band itself is an intricate weaved pattern, and there's an engraving on the underside of the stone. It reads: 'For Eddie, My Heroic Knight' in an elegant script. He's speechless, he never expected you to get him something so nice.

"Do you like it, darling?" You ask, playfully stroking his chest as you watch his awestruck face. It's amusing that you seem to have caught him off guard, which is not an easy feat. After a moment of admiring the ring, Eddie slips it on one of the free fingers on his right hand.

"I love it, angel. It's the best gift anyone's ever given me." His eyes meet yours, his hand cupping your cheek. Your lips touch again, but this time you climb on top of him as you kiss. You straddle him, his hands gripping your ass roughly. Your mouth leaves Eddie's, migrating to his jaw and neck. He moans as you suck dark hickeys onto his flesh, marking him as much as you can. Your cunt rubs against Eddie's hard cock over his jeans, and you're eager to get him out of his clothes. You sit up, tugging his shirt up his chest. He helps you out, quickly discarding it to the floor.

"You're so handsome, baby." You tell him as you stare at his beautiful chest. You lean down to kiss his tattoos, nipping his skin playfully. Eddie groans, fixated on every touch you give him. Your mouth meets every inch of him you can reach, slowly traveling down to the small trail of hair above his jeans. You lift your head, smirking at him as you unbuckle his belt. He grins back, resting his head on his hands to observe your actions. You unzip his fly and yank his pants down his legs, tossing them aside. You glance down at his boxers, a tent formed in the thin fabric. Licking your lips, you shed Eddie of his final layer of clothing, watching his dick stand at attention. You kneel between his legs, leaning down you lick a long stripe up his length.

"Fuck." Eddie sighs, wanting to shove himself down your throat so badly. But he lets you take your time, not breaking eye contact as you do so. You teasingly swirl your tongue around the head, swallowing the precum that's gathered on it. He moans, an almost tortured look on his face. "Baby, please don't tease me." He begs, needy for your hot, wet mouth. You happily sink your lips down onto his cock, letting him hit the back of your throat. More noises spill from Eddie's lips as you work him, deepthroating him expertly. He loves when you give him head, there's nobody else on this earth that does it like you.

"Mmm." You moan on his length, increasing your speed. Sure, you mainly wanted to send vibrations through Eddie to drive him mad, but you also really enjoy sucking him off. Watching him whine and moan and praise you, it gets you unbelievably hot and bothered. You massage his balls gently in your hand, feeling them tighten as Eddie's high draws closer.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You're such a good little slut for me. Can you bring your pussy over here while you do that, though?" He asks, insatiable lust tinging his voice. You roll your eyes goofily, of course he wants to eat you out again. You already know it won't take long for him to make you cum, you're still so riled up from before. You continue blowing him, carefully maneuvering yourself to put your cunt in his face. He notices the arousal dripping from you, groaning at the site. "You love having my dick in your mouth, don't you, baby?" He says rhetorically, he already knows the answer.

"Mmhmm." You reply anyway, humming on him again. But it quickly morphs into a moan as Eddie's tongue begins toying around with your clit. He stops for a moment, biting your ass cheek to get your attention. You look back at him best you can, letting his dick slip out of your mouth. "Yes, my love?" You ask, quite used to this form of communication with him.

"Slow down on me a little, angel. I want you to focus on enjoying yourself." He strokes your thighs sensually, his tongue playing at the edge of his mouth mischievously. Eddie's always been so giving in bed, even when he's obviously desperate to have some pleasure of his own. You nod at him as you bite your lip, before turning away to take him back in your mouth. You slowly bob up and down, your tongue swirling around his length languidly. "That's it, keep that pace, Y/N." He groans again, trying to hold back his impulse to buck his hips into you. Eddie savors the feeling for a second, calming himself. You can feel his breath stuttering as it fans over your pussy, mentally smirking at just how close he is.

You want his mouth back on you, though he seems to be a little distracted. You lean your behind backwards to him, tempting his tongue to see just how sweet you taste. He chuckles at your wanting, before giving you what you need. Eddie sucks your clit back into his mouth, focusing his moans onto your core. The vibrations are nearly enough to make you lose it, you practically scream on his cock. You want to go faster, make him cum down your throat right now. But he asked you to go slowly, and you'll do anything to make him happy. It takes everything in you to maintain your pace, due to Eddie's moves making your head spin. You're sweating all over again, and it feels like your brain is melting.

Eddie relentlessly licks and sucks on your pussy, drinking up any arousal that drips from it. There's a nonstop cycle of moaning from the two of you, sending tremors through your flesh where you need it the most. You instinctively push yourself closer to his face, and he takes this as his cue to shove his tongue inside your needy hole. Your fifth orgasm takes you over, your walls clenching his tongue. Juices run out of you, spilling down Eddie's chin and onto his chest. He holds you steady as your legs threaten to give out, they tremble violently as pure bliss cascades through you. Your release brings Eddie to the end as well, his cum shooting in thick ropes down your throat. You swallow every last bit, your head falling onto his hip once he's finished.

But Eddie doesn't stop using his mouth on you, building you up yet again like his life depends on it. "Fuck, Eddie. You're gonna make me cum again." You cry out, tears stinging your eyes. Your high doesn't end, only dulls as he tries to give you another. His hands are hooked around your hips, holding you firmly in place. He's like a goddamn machine, whose only purpose is to get you off. "Oh, god!" You scream, your nails digging into Eddie's thighs as you cum on his face, even harder than all the previous times tonight. He's getting absolutely soaked by you, but he still doesn't want to stop. You hear your arousal leaking onto him, almost worried he's going to drown. But he keeps going, not letting you have a second to breathe.

You're panting wildly, constant tears staining your cheeks as his fucks you with his mouth. He keeps moaning against you, trying to make your head blow into smithereens. You've almost drawn blood as you continue to cling to him, making ungodly sounds as you're on the precipice of yet another fucking orgasm. His lips leave you for just a second. "Come on, angel. Just one more for me, be a good girl." He's breathing so hard, it's like he ran a marathon. Though when you think about it, he kind of has in a way. He adds his fingers to the mix, hammering them into you while licking your clit again.

"Eddie!" You scream, loud enough that you suspect the whole trailer park can hear you. Yet again, Eddie has managed to make you cum harder than you ever have before. It's like you're splitting in half, blinding white heat engulfing you in thick flames. An obscene amount of juices gush from you, more than you thought humanly possible. It all splashes onto Eddie, soaking his face, his hair, his chest, and the bed beneath you. You collapse, laying over Eddie's body. All you can see is stars, and your legs won't stop convulsing. The oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, you've forgotten how to breathe. Once it comes back to you, your chest heaves harshly as you gulp in air. You sob uncontrollably, unable to move.

"Y/N?" Eddie asks, watching you lay helplessly on top of him. He notices you crying, quickly slipping out from under you to rush to your side. He helps you sit up, taking a spot next to you. He's shiny with sweat and your cum, holding your head close to his chest. "Shhh, it's okay, angel. Just relax and breathe, okay?" He coos at you, stroking your damp hair comfortingly. Eddie keeps holding you, trying to calm you down. You focus on your breathing, eventually getting it mostly back to normal. You sit fully upright, gazing into his eyes. He looks so worried, but he shouldn't be. "Was it too much, baby?" He asks, cursing himself for how overzealous he was with you.

"No, Eddie. I promise it was amazing, I've never cum so hard before. God, I love you." You pull his slippery face to yours, kissing him deeply to show how much you mean what you're saying. "It wasn't too much for you, was it? I was worried you were gonna drown." You ask as you pull away, but he just smiles.

"I love you too, baby. And you were absolutely perfect, Y/N. So fuckin' sexy, though I imagine we'll both need some water and a shower." He chuckles, glancing at the head of the bed. "Probably some clean sheets too." And you both laugh heartily together. "Let's get cleaned up, darling. Then we can cuddle in bed and I'll read to you." Eddie stands, taking your hand to lead you to the bathroom.

Once you're nice and clean again, and the bed has been tidied up, the two of you get under the covers. Eddie pulls out a Stephen King novel, opening it to the dog-eared page he left off on. You lay your head on his chest, eagerly waiting to hear what happens next in the story. "Happy anniversary, Eds." You say just before he begins to read, craning your neck to give him another kiss.

"Happy anniversary, princess." He meets you in the middle, his heart skipping a beat as your plush lips touch his. "Now, be quiet so we can see what happens with this evil clown." He chides you jokingly, making you giggle. One of his arms wraps around you, while the other holds the paperback open to find his place. You hum lowly as his fingers stroke your back, barely brushing against your skin. He starts to read, his words and warmth putting you in a very content state. "Henry Bowers had gotten too big too fast to be either quick or agile under ordinary circumstances..." He goes on, reading calmly to you in a velvety voice until you fall asleep.

The end.

[lonelychicago]

16. someone's pulling a gun and you're jumping in the middle of it

If it sparks joy ☺️❤️

so i was in an angsty mood, hope you like it <3

They weren't at a call, they weren't supposed to face danger that day.

It's all Buck can think about as he stares down the barrel of a gun.

It's their day off and Buck had plans, alright? This was supposed to be the perfect day.

The perfect first date.

The restaurant is really fancy, with the most expensive wine that Buck has ever seen and all the tables looked like straight out of a historical movie or some shit like that. The menu is full of weird names, half of which Buck can't even pronounce.

But it's his first date with Eddie and he wants it to be just perfect. A night neither of them would ever forget.

He wants to show Eddie he made the right choice when he gave Buck a chance.

There's classic music playing in the background, the sound of piano and violins floating through the air and making Buck relax in his seat.

And then— there's a loud crash, one of the windows at the front of the restaurant breaking and pieces of glass flying everywhere.

For a second, Buck doesn't know what's going on. For a second he's just confused.

And then—

"Nobody move! I said nobody fucking move! A man in a mask is carrying a gun. His movements are erratic and fast, almost maniac.

Buck's heart clenches inside his heart.

Eddie makes a sound and then he's standing up. Because of course he is, Buck thinks— remembers the way Eddie didn't even flinch that time they were taken hostages by the prison guy.

"Eddie." He mutters, as low as he can as to not catch any unwanted attention.

It doesn't work.

"I said nobody fucking move!" The man yells and Buck— Buck watches as the gun is pointed towards Eddie.

The sense of deja vu pooling in his stomach is sickening and he wants to throw up.

No.

Not again.

Buck moves before he can think twice about it, jumping over the table and placing his body in front of Eddie's, like some kind of human armor.

There's a loud gunshot, but the choked desperate sound that Eddie makes on the back of his throat might be even louder.

Buck feels himself falling to the ground and then Eddie's face is above his.

"Evan! What did you do? What have you—" Eddie is frantic, his hands shaking and hovering above Buck's body.

He frowns.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Buck asks.

Was Eddie shot?

Please God, not again. Buck can't go through that again.

"W-what?" Eddie laughs, but it's sharp and bitter and there's not a trace of humor in it. It's hysterical if anything. "No, I wasn't shot. You got in the way of the bullet, you idiot." He choked out and he's— He's crying.

Eddie never cries.

The last time Eddie cried he was broken and on the floor, hugging a baseball bat.

That was two years ago.

"E-eddie?"

And oh.

Oh

Eddie presses down on his abdomen and Buck feels it.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. Just— Don't talk. Don't— Hold on for me." Eddie says, his voice trembling and his tears falling down his cheeks and into Buck's face.

Buck mouths something with trembling lips but no sound comes out— just a garbled noise.

Buck can taste the blood. His own blood.

Well, that's not good.

There's a lot of background noise, screams and orders being yelled but none of that matters.

If Buck dies right there, he'll do it as he stares at Eddie.

"Hold on for me, baby. Please. Please." Eddie is begging above him and Buck wants to listen to him.

But he's so tired.

A weak hand comes up and reaches for Eddie, his thumb caressing that beauty mark under his eye that Buck loves so much.

He leaves a trace of blood in its wake and that's—

He tainted Eddie.

Buck wants to apologize but he can't speak. He can't breathe.

"You have to stay awake, baby, okay?" Eddie is saying above him. "You have to hold on for me. So then you can take me on another first date— no offense but this one really fucking sucked." Eddie lets out a wet chuckle. "So we won't count this one. We'll go on another one and that one will be our first, alright? And then you'll have to take me on a second one. And a third one." Eddie says and Buck thinks that sounds like a good plan.

He likes the way Eddie thinks.

"Stay awake, Buck! Don't close your eyes." Eddie pats his cheeks a couple times and Buck's eyes flutter but he fights against uncociousness.

"W-what else?" He asks weakly, his words slurring and dragging and he's not sure if Eddie understood any of that.

But of course he did.

"W-what else?" Eddie's voice breaks but he has this small smile etched ln his face, fond and quiet and just a little sad at the edges. "Well, we'll have to let the team know about us... eventually. They all will be happy, of course. Hen will order a cake and they'll throw a ridiculous party but it'll be fun." Eddie's hand keep pressing against Buck's wound but he can barely feel it.

It doesn't really hurt.

That's really bad, isn't it?

"And then you'll move in. In a couple of months." Eddie keeps talking. "Is it too soon to talk about that? I don't think it is. We've known each other for years and this— this was inevitable, right? At least for me." Eddie's lower lip trembles. "Since the moment you shook my hand in the back of an ambulance and promised to have my back? It was a fone deal for me. I knew I would love you. I knew you would ruin me for anyone else."

Buck smiles, or at least he tries to. He's not sure if he pulls it off.

"Ditto." He rasps out, low and weak but he thinks Eddie hears it anyway by the way his eyes soften.

And then the darkness wins and Buck closes his eyes.

-

He wakes up in the back of an ambulance with his hand in between Eddie's. There's paramedics working around him but Buck doesn't care.

He keeps his eyes on Eddie.

His hair is a mess and his brown warm eyes are puffy and red around the edges. His clothes are stained red with blood and there's a trace of it on his cheek.

He looks—

Awful, Buck thinks. Eddie's skin is pale and ashen and the fluorescent lights of the ambulance aren't doing him any favors either.

And yet— it's the most beautiful thing that Buck has ever seen.

"Hey." He chokes out, the oxygen mask resting uncomfortably against his face and making forming words a little difficult.

Eddie grins, relieved and so soft, tender and adoring. "Hey."

[oshiawaseni]

Trails of Love Hori's been paving down in the build up for the series' ending

Part II: Decoding the love story being told through other characters

Part One | II. Compress | Part Two -> KiriMina

.•° ✿ 2. Gentle & La Brava ೋღ

Gentle and La Brava are classic portrayals of the archetype known in Japan as "baka couple" - a couple that dotes on each other and are very openly affectionate. By juxtaposing the baka couple with Izuku and Katsuki, who keep their true feelings for each other close to their chests, Horikoshi is highlighting the tension and ambiguity going on between bkdk even more.

This tale is the evolution of my feelings towards Gentle/La Brava.

Their introduction was, very... unexpected. Izuku had just finished his tough fight against Overhaul. Nothing much was going on at the time and it had been quite a while since Izuku and Katsuki had interacted with each other.

Shortly after Gentle and La Brava's introduction to the series, BkDk development ramps up and Izuku's "Control your heart" character arc begins. Isn't that interesting..?

The very first time I watched Gentle/La Brava's story in Season Four, something seemed so... misplaced about them.

Their vibe felt filler-ish and because of the school festival side plot going on, their appearance was more like a filler inside of a filler. Yet, Horikoshi had indeed written them into BNHA. These two characters felt so strange when compared with Hori's usual characters. Even downright silly. They were criminals, but they weren't even that bad..? Tea? U.A? They loved each other?

I just couldn't quite work out their purpose in the grand scheme of things and I quickly gave up trying to.

Izuku has no regard for himself? He's crazy? Don't get entangled with him? These lines scream out KATSUKI KATSUKI KATSUKI and how he had felt towards Izuku for years. It seems Hori projected Katsuki's issues with Izuku onto LB/G over 100 chapters before Katsuki verbalised them himself. Going back, now knowing they were written for BkDk is a new experience in and of itself.

Around the time of Katsuki's death, a few theories were floating around on twitter, saying that Gentle and La Brava were put in the manga to highlight what's going on with BkDk. At the time of hearing these theories, I never expected they'd be making a return to the story in the final arc, it had broke my brain thinking about them the first time, so I didn't give this theory too much thought... but when they showed up a second time, in the final act, I really wish I had.

Because as I was reading the things they were now saying the second time around, and being more open to this theory about them, all I could see in my head were visions of everything Izuku and Katsuki had ever done for each other. It had finally clicked:

God, Hori did invent these characters to be the voice of BkDk.

These were the new lines in question that sent my head spiralling about the magnificent truth of this theory:

"Are you still fighting to protect someone's smile?!" It made me think of Katsuki, how Izuku was fighting for Katsuki's sake! To keep him safe, so he'll come back to him, energetic, alive, red eyes shining again with the passion that Izuku loves so much, and his face brimming with confidence and that wonderful, infectious smile of his that tells, no, shouts to everyone that he knows he's a winner.

"My only happiness was the thought of you at my side" Immediately made me think of Katsuki's last moments and thinking of Izuku when he knew, he just KNEW he was going to die. And his thoughts of Izuku - wanting to be the hero that Izuku loves, so he could feel that love when he needed it most, these feelings surrounded and filled his entire heart like a comforting, soft, warm blanket. These feelings are what got him through everything until the end.

This one made me cry because Izuku was his happiness at his very end. And I finally saw Horikoshi, the mangaka who cares about BkDk more than anyone! I saw what he was doing!

"The time we spent apart made our love even stronger." was like a ray of hope for me because every time they had a separation, BkDk's love grew even stronger. It meant that this separation caused by Kacchan's death would some day have an end too, where afterwards, they would be free to love each other for all the world to see.

Can you see it? Katsuki and Izuku were always meant to end up together, and La Brava and Gentle were meant to help show readers what they feel, without BkDk necessarily saying it themselves.

If Izuku's love of Kacchan is what got him a power up every time (OFA, Black Whip, Danger Sense), then this ultimate power of La Brava's must be the same for Katsuki too. Because it is his love for Izuku that gave him a quirk awakening. (And there's another great theory that their deep bond and immense love for each other is what connected Katsuki to Izuku's OFA, as well. So Gentle La Brava are connected via Love... and Katsuki and Izuku are connected via love!)

Let's say from the very beginning of BNHA, Horikoshi's idea was to gradually bring BkDk closer and closer, adding in little details here and there that don't make much sense on their own and are never expanded upon. Because he couldn't make their feelings known in the early/mid game... but he wanted to have them romance-ready at the end game.

Hori would have had a basic outline for the ways he was going to develop BkDk's relationship and he knew he needed a lot of 3rd party help to really spell out their relation to each other in the future. So Hori created Gentle and La Brava for this singular purpose. They exist to help verbalise Katsuki and Izuku's unsaid feelings! It's a perfect marriage between Gentle/La Brava's words and BkDk's actions.

And once people realised that Hori was doing this, they could then go back to the dialogues and connect the dots with other BkDk scenes as well, for example, Katsuki's abduction by the LOV in season three.

In a scene where Katsuki is taken away, Izuku's emotional pain is palpable. His deafening scream shocks not only his classmates, but a lot of viewers too. Because of his deeply emotional reaction and later scenes displaying symptoms of PTSD, this seemingly one-sided affection that Izuku has towards Katsuki, raised so many questions about their relationship for me. And as the series progressed, the mystery of Izuku's powerful feelings and need for Katsuki only deepened further. It feels like La Brava's dialogues were written into the series, just to verbalise what these overwhelming moments were truly like for Izuku.

This can't be just a coincidence. There are just too many parallels between BkDk and Gentle/La Brava to even count.

If you've read my twitter thread on the Gentle/La Brava vs BkDk parallels and how incredibly similar Izuku and La Brava's backgrounds are, but you're still sceptical about this theory, then going on this journey of Hori's trails with me may help convince you that Hori was going to make BkDk canon no matter what and that he's been using other characters to narrate the feelings of BkDk's actions.

In the future, I hope to show you how instrumental Gentle and La Brava were in expressing Horikoshi's vision.

Because there are more layers to Gentle and La Brava's arc than a damn rainbow cake. And I'm still not finished with these two yet, but that is a topic for a later post. Next up, KiriMina!

Part Two -> KiriMina

II. Compress Back to Part One

[navybrat817]

Hi Navy👋🏾 I’d like to play with alphabet game too —- A, N, and Q with Raymond, Will, and Steve from your “Ready or Not” series

I'm sorry for the delay on this, lovely!

And, my God, Ready or Not. I haven't updated that in years. 😭 Some dark themes ahead with Steve.

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?)

Raymond would rather use his imagination, especially after seeing a particularly nasty video. Before you two are together, he loves to picture you on your knees, begging for him to fuck your throat or your pussy. And thanking him when he's finished with you. It always puts him over the edge.

Will is extremely disciplined. He has to be in his line of work. But even he can't help himself if you happen to send him a suggestive photo or text. Jerking himself off isn't as satisfying since he'd rather finish inside you, but it helps take the edge off when necessary.

Steve loves being able to look at you, so any visual is a good thing. Whether it's photos or videos of you. And of course, managing to have that pornographic video of a "couple" that looks like the two of you, it's easy for him to imagine that it's him fucking you until he gets his hands on you.

N - Not yet (orgasm delay? orgasm denial? do they tell their partner not to touch themselves for a certain amount of time or under certain circumstances? do they delay or deny other things like bathroom usage or food? do they need to beg first? do they like being denied / delayed?)

Raymond won't hesitate to tie to you his bed and shove a vibrator inside you if you try and distract him from his work. He'll mess with the settings and keep you on edge until he finishes what he needs to. He'll get you off himself, but you better apologize. And he'll remind you that while he does have a job to do, you're the most important thing to him.

Will sometimes has pent up emotions and aggression because of the assignments he had, so he likes having control. He isn't one to deny you an orgasm, but he wants to be the one to give them to you. So if he tells you not to touch yourself, don't. If you need to get off that badly, he'll do it with him fingers, tongue, and cock. He'll wreck you the way you need.

Steve, it depends on what you've done. If you try to run away, he'll overstimulate you until you're on the verge of passing out. If you mouth off, he'll edge you until you cry and beg for forgiveness. He isn't letting you go, so he good for him.

Q - Quiet please (what’s the volume like in the bedroom? are they quiet? do they scream? do they like a loud partner? do they prefer if their partner is more soft spoken?)

Raymond loves hearing you, but there's also something hot about covering your mouth and smothering your sounds as he drives nice and hard into you. It's like your noises are just for him to have. And when he releases his hand, it better be his name spilling from your lips.

Will may be a motivational speaker now, but he's generally quiet by nature. So he may not voice it loudly, but he'll keep his lips on yours or at your ear to praise you for taking him so well and being the best thing to ever happen to him. And hearing you moan his name is another reminder of how lucky he is to come home to you.

Steve doesn't want you to be quiet. Say his name, moan how much you love him. And he'll grunt how you belong to him, how no one else will ever touch you. You're his girl and he wants everyone to know that.

*****

Love and thanks! ❤️

Dirty A-Z with a character

[peppermintquartz]

It's not the first time he's done this but, naively, Tommy did hope that last year would have been the last. Now he scribbles his name with a little more fervor than necessary, almost tearing the page.

He was only deluding himself, he knows now. It is his fate to fill in the gaps, to go where he's needed in the moment, but he isn't the desired destination.

It stings, though. He was selfishly hoping for more time, enough so that he already ordered a tree to be delivered along with some decorations. Fairy lights, star topper, blue and red and gold baubles. Presumptuous of him, it turns out.

He also has a list of presents he was going to buy, based on what he remembers from conversations: a larger toolbox for Eddie, a Mythbusters DVD box set for Karen, a year's subscription to the Lancet for Hen, new grilling skewers for Bobby, a spa weekend in Vegas for Athena, a 126-color washable crayon set for Jee-yun, a weekend couples tour in Vegas for Chimney and Maddie that he'll fly them to.

He hasn't bought the gifts yet, except for Evan's: a customized chef's knife. Japanese craftsmanship.

He wonders if Evan will want to use it at all, knowing it's from Tommy.

Lucy looks at him askance when she sees the list. When she opens her mouth to ask, he shakes his head. Her mouth twists into a sympathetic grimace, then she pats his arm and walks away.

The fact is that most of them have noticed that Tommy was lighter and happier, for the past six months. Now he's withdrawn and monosyllabic.

He'll move on. He has to. He can't dwell on one single man whose bright blue eyes haunt his dreams and waking moments. He can't. Even if looking at the blue skies perfect for flying reminds him of the worst heartbreak he ever inflicted on himself.

---

But he's not allowed to move on, it seems.

Christmas Eve, he's on duty and the one major call the 217 goes to is a seven-car pile-up that blocks three lanes of traffic.

And the one man he never wants to see hurt is bleeding out behind the wheel, barely hanging on to consciousness, his fingers weak when asked to squeeze Tommy's hand.

"Fancy... seeing you... here," Evan mumbles.

"Stop talking," Tommy orders. He's frantic, even if he and his colleagues move methodically and rapidly to clear away the metal trapping the man he loves - the man he loves - inside a metal cage (not a coffin, Kinard, not a goddamn coffin) while he bleeds seemingly everywhere.

He's not going to fly the chopper, he knows. The second they were told that off-duty firefighter Buckley is in the accident, Tommy's captain made the call that any air transport is to be carried out by Lucy.

"Hang on, baby, please," he begs. He doesn't care who hears him. "Evan, please, stay awake, please stay awake-"

"I'm glad," Evan says. His eyes are fluttering shut. "'s good... Not Buck. J-just Evan." He slumps over.

Tommy doesn't waste time screaming or crying. He practically rips aside the crushed door with his hands alone, even though his shoulders burn from exertion, and he helps get Evan out for the paramedics, and he is running to the bird right next to the stretcher, hauling Evan on board. No one tells him he's to stay on the ground.

---

Maddie and Chimney finds him in the waiting area.

"You're pregnant," Tommy says stupidly as he stands up when he sees them.

"How is he?" she asks.

"Still inside." Tommy can't really form thoughts. "He crashed once but his heart was beating when we got here."

Maddie nods and sits down. Chimney sits beside her and they hold hands. They are already there for each other; they do not need anything to bridge a gap.

Tommy wants to throw up. He sits down, two chairs away, and buries his face in his hands.

The last time he prayed was in a church that claimed that God will smite people like him. Yet, he begs whatever entity will listen: Please, take me in his stead. He has a family who loves him. Who need him. Take me in his stead. He deserves everything good. Take me in his stead.

Christmas Eve ticks over to Christmas.

More and more of Evan's friends and family come. Eddie doesn't show; Hen tells Tommy that Eddie is in Texas. Tommy only nods at her. He says nothing. They cluster around Maddie and give Chimney hugs.

Then Bobby sits next to Tommy and squeezes his knee. He murmurs, "He still misses you. Apologize and make it up to him."

"I bought Evan a chef's knife," Tommy says, apropos of nothing.

Bobby huffs. "He'll prefer having you back as a present." Another pause. "That, and couples therapy."

Tommy bites his lip and nods. Anything. He'll do anything.

---

The next Christmas, Tommy doesn't take on a shift. Neither does Evan.

They're hosting Christmas lunch.

Tommy adding his name to the "can work double shifts if needed over Christmas" list because he'll only be spending it alone. Again.

[paintmarker]

Scissors , chapter 1/2

chapter 2 here!

companion story to Time Moves Slow

trigger warnings:, cannibalism, self-multilation, Roy Mustang,s general existence, sex, bugs, amd vomit.

Kimblee wakes up, eyes wide as he stares at the ceiling of his jail cell in a cold sweat, he feels cold, so cold. Oh god! Oh god, let me out, please! He wrings his own hands on the confinement they've been put into, writhing and twisting in his cot, stiff as ever.

Please! He screams, over and over again as he experiences this living nightmare, one he's lived before plenty of times, roaches and centipedes crawling up his legs, under his clothes, under his skin, never stopping once, not even to eat.

Kimblee feels nauseated, more than nauseated actually, he leans over his bed and vomits on the floor of his cell, wretching and gagging as he feels worms and maggots come up his throat.

He falls over onto the concrete

floor and lays in his own puke, though it only gets in his hair, and even then, thats pretty bad.

It's been a couple of days since he pulled that stupid stunt, killing his surperior officers from the war and catching himself in his own explosion, giving himself irreprable brain damage.

You know, before the explosion, he was always like this, in fact, that's why he did it in the first place. Cannibalistic bastard, he curses at himself silently as he lays there still, blaming himself for his stupidity, and now because of it, this side of him is hard to hide.

He wants to go back, back to the way things were before his idiotic stunt.

Kimblee lays there, no move to get up as he breathes in and out hoarsly, bile still stuck in his throat somewhat. He wants to go back to the way things were, he wants his old self, the one who knew how to hide and shy away from attention, never attracting any in the first place.

There is no old self to go back to, obviously.

Kimblee awakes sometime later to water being poured on him, he chokes for a moment as he sits up. A guard seemed to have thrown a bucket of cold water at him, he looks up at the guard, frustrated and angry, much more than words can describe, but no words come out.

Kimblee has no sense of time, it doesn't feel at all like he's spent years inside of this cold and damp concrete space, just hours.

Hours on end staring at the ceiling alone with his thoughts, looping constantly until he gets something to eat, but even then he thinks about the last few things he remembers from that fateful day.

The way he leans over this time, he sees his hair, unkempt and greasy draped over his face.

Gray streaks.

Gray streaks... He isn't even that old yet, he's what, twenty-seven? Last he remembers at least, that's how old he is, yes.

....Is he?

He'll find out later when he is released.... however much longer he's forced to stay in here, Kimblee doesn't know.

But Kimblee gets tired of waiting, screaming and crying out as the guards ignore him. He has too many questions, none that he thinks will be answered.

There's an explosion, no one really knows who caused it, but they have an idea of where it's coming from.

There's another explosion, closer this time, and you can hear the other prisoners screaming, maybe even their bones cracking and blood splatter on the walls as they are hit by debris and crushed by rubble.

There's a body hanging from the wall as he watches his destruction occur, nails scraping at the concrete as he can barely stay concious, and Kimblee laughs for the first time in a while at this sight.

"There is another," Another before him. "Look at yourself." Kimblee whispers to the dying man, wrapping his (now free) hands around the man's neck, squeezing tightly as the man cannot fight back. He rasps, silently begging for his life as Kimblee digs his nails in further, neck snapping with a violent motion.

Kimblee lets the body lay there, head laying to the side. "I can feel you," Solf rasps. "Around me..." He holds the body as if they were close in life, friends, family, lovers, whatever it would have been. "Inside me..." His voice progressively gets quieter as he caresses the corpse, whispering in the dead mans ear.

Solf sits here with the corpse for way too long, nearly falling asleep at some point but he leaves behind the body, feeling weirdly attached. He runs, far away, or as far as he can go before falling flat on the asphalt in a dingy alleyway. Filthy, he feels horribly filthy.

Abandoned but alone finally, Kimblee feels like he's home, even if this is not his house. The water is warm as it flows over his skin, he wishes it were cold, but can't get it to do so. Too hot somehow and it makes his skin itch, irritating the dry spots and he picks at them, irritating further. He curses at himself silently as he keeps picking and scratching.

I cannot wash away my sins, I will not be forgiven, I have accepted this

as the truth.

I don't deserve to be forgiven anyhow.

Whatever happened, it was all my own

fault.

What is it that I was fighting for in the first place.

...

How foolish I was...

Anyway, how has your day been? Kimblee lets out a deranged laugh as he pretends to be on a phonecall. He thinks about the dead man and all of his victims before him. Got a little hungry, yeah. Yeah, I chipped a tooth. It doesn't matter, I'll be leaving soon anyway, so I can't fix this. Kimblee laughs at himself once more, joking about lies that will never be received.

His expression drops very quickly though, continuing to drink his (honestly, dusty tasting) water. There's something so vile about what has gone down here, the spilling of innocent blood, but is this any different than what Kimblee has done before? Not one bit.

God, I feel like im lying to myself.

Haha, I don't even believe in God. Do you? I'm sure you do, but... not like this.

Kimblee decides he will take a shower in this newly-dead-mans house, washing the blood and debris from a few hours ago. He hopes nobody is looking for him, but he'll stay here until the phone rings or something similiar happens.

His fingertips burn under the water, a stinging feeling as he scrubs away dead skin. Solf decides he will ignore them for now in favor of an insatiable urge, one he hasn't been able to act on properly until now.

Though this is certainly an efficient way to pass the time, it's not his favorite even then. Even as he trembles slightly under his own actions. Even as he slowly begins to feel the result of (built-up for literal years) arousal spill over.

"Don't worry, I wasn't thinking about you." Solf says whilst glancing at the dead man from the bathroom. Kimblee brushes his graying hair with a certain kind of delicacy, feminine grace if you will.

There's a sudden sharp pain in his hands, joints and wrist alike which makes him drop the brush, as he goes to pick it back up, it happens again. He groans uncomfortably and waits for it to go away.

Not entirely new, but even then, has been unfortunate enough already. Dropping forks and other loud/fragile things had gotten him into some trouble.

Ow, ouch, stop that. Kimblee rests his hands on the bedsheet, preferring to sleep in a dead mans bed. It is quite cozy, the bed and bathroom being the only rooms in this house that are well kept, he wonders what the dead man was like in life. Oh well, he'll never know now.

Kimblee lays on the bed, though not without a little discomfort, but he feels as if he weighs nothing now, drifting into the deep inky blackness of his dreams.

His fingers squeeze around the pillow he holds, nails digging into where he would imagine someone's back to be. The dead mans pillow smells nice, his last thought before finally passing out.

Too many dead men.

Kimblee feels that urge again as soon as he wakes up. He groans, lifting himself up from the pillow to reposition it. Do I really have to spell out all of the dirty details? I just wanted some quick relief, which I did get, mind you, now shoo.

Solf gasps softly into the sheets as he humps the pillow, shuddering, why do I feel like this, why do I feel all of this... God help me--

This is low, even for him. Wet and sticky on the inside of his pants (which, yes, are the dead mans pants.) I feel filthy, Kimblee whispers to himself as he finally gets up and out of bed, mostly to clean himself. Maybe he'll eat, but he doesn't feel like it right now.

God, I almost want to do it again, what's wrong with me.

There's suddenly a small skittering sound, actually, a very loud skittering sound as if there is hundreds upon thousands of bugs around him. Uh oh, Solf gasps as he sees the centipedes crawling on his feet, his reflexes nearly make him blow up the tile, he knows this isn't real-- this isn't fucking real-- This isn't real--

Kimblee puts his hands together and directs the blast in front of him, mind clouded and vision fading as he destroys the tile of the dining room floor. Fuck, fuck. What did I do, oh God, the floor... Cracked and shattered, about almost all of it. He hyperventilates as he sees that the wretched insects have gone for now. Fuck, what the fuck, Solf pants quietly as he regains his bearings on reality.

He sits quietly on the couch, trying to calm himself down, but still feels and hears these incessent bugs all over him. Solf shudders as he feels one skitter across his spine, a strange feeling for sure. He scratches and picks at his irritated and dry skin, itching, itching itching itching itching it itches.

It bleeds. Ah, shit. Solf searches for bandages, any kind for his torn skin, he hisses through his teeth as he feels it sting and burn.

When he finally finds the first aid kit, it seems like it had been rummaged through already, a strange razor along with a pair of scissors was found inside. It confuses him a little but he doesn't have time for that, quickly sticking some pink bandaids on his arms and hands (why did the dead man pick out these specifically? Maybe Kimblee wouldn't have liked him in life... weirdo.)

Even then, Solf itches at his arm. It's bleeding again. Fuck. Anyway, he feels that urge to touch himself again, but pushes it from his mind. There's too many bugs here to do any of that stuff right now.

...The urge grows. Fine, I guess, I hate this body, I hate myself for succumbing so easily to this self-pleasure. Solf still hears the skittering, feels it in his skull as he fingers himself. Kimblee sees the dead man across the hallway, he stands where the bedroom door is. Well, his bedroom, but now it's Solf's.

He stares at Kimblee as he's nearly three knuckles deep in himself, he can't help but admire the illusion (hallucination?) of the dead man. Even if he's dead, he's pretty. He tenses, moving faster, and,

The dead man is gone.

Kimblee feels relief as he slumps back into the cushions, no longer being watched, able to finish. Even if the bugs are there still, crawling all over.

Though Kimblee screams for a moment as a spider crawls onto his leg, kicking and thrashing it until it falls off. Was that one real? It skitters toward him, and it feels much more real.

Kimblee stomps on it to see if it will actually die, and unfortunately for him, he wasn't wearing any socks or shoes, it splatters on the sole of his right foot and the dark wooden floor below. Kimblee can feel it curl up when he lifts his foot away. He feels nausous.

Suddenly he realizes, I haven't checked the year, or even seen a calender for that matter. Solf searches around the house, even as he hears the skittering continue but powers through it. He absentmindedly looks through to the window that leads to the backyard, he can almost smell the rancid stench. He'll have to bury the dead-man sooner than he thought.

Calender... calender... ah, the year is... Oh that can't be right, the year is 1914 on this thing. Maybe the dead-man is more unkempt than he originally thought...

Oh God, has it really been that long?

Oh God.

(It's been six years? Nearly seven, and not a fucking thing has changed. God, I'm gonna fucking vomit. I didn't even think it had been years, only felt like cold useless hours, a day or two, nothing more, nothing less.)

Whatever, it's time to bury the body for real this time. It's late enough as is, nobody from the neighboring houses would see, right? He finds a shovel and digs, digs and digs until it's a suitable 6ft (it's actually 5ft though) to bury the dead-man.

He dumps the body unceremoniously into the hole he dug, then buries it a lot faster than he originally dug it, hopefully no one saw, hopefully no one sees this, no one saw.

He searches through the dead-mans books, flipping through them at random to find any interesting passage. "Hell is a teenage girl," He whispers to himself, lost in thought.

"Every time people said I was pretty, I thought of everything ugly swarming beneath my clothes." How interesting, why did this man have any interest in these kinds of books?

Maybe he wasn't the one reading these.

Kimblee looks through this particular (yet short novel) throughout random times of the day, finding some quotes that hit awfully close to home that he wont repeat here in fear of getting caught in some sort of lie, one thats

written on official military documents.

There's a phrase he's twisted into the back of his mind, maybe he should stop fucking reading this and be more worried about the potential sirens blaring outside the door. You can never be as good as a dead person.

All of his victims, they are pure and untouched and have never touched either, only dying at the hands of a deranged possibly undiagnosed mad-man who uses alchemy to blow people up as if he were a living, walking, talking nuclear bomb.

For the first time in years, Solf J. Kimblee feels ashamed of himself.

It hurts to breathe now as he lays back into the pillows of the dead-mans bed, curling under the duvet as he feels the insects breathe in his chest.

Remember, Solf, what you sow is what you reap.

Kimblee picks at his wounds once more, reopening them. Ow, haha, ow. It almost feels good. Is that just how sick I've gotten? That even this kind of pain, not just the one I inflict on others, feels good? God, I'm gonna vomit, hahaha!

Kimblee keeps picking even at the behest of his own voice, stop it you idiot, picking and tearing at his hands and wrists until they are a stark red, bleeding. Just let it run, I don't feel a thing anyway-- ow-- Just a little.

Suddenly, Solf has the bright idea to find that medkit he used however long ago, finding the knife and scissors snatching them out of the small plastic container quickly. Now, somewhere between the sacred silence of the dead-mans house, specifically the bedroom, is slowly being inched away at with a precision blade that Kimblee presses hard into his skin.

He cuts away at his arm making it bleed further, which he should really stop, he feels quite faint. Thankfully , I do , patching myself up quickly with the leftover bandaids, though not before biting off a piece of skin and licking the blood that comes with it.

There is no space to cry here, just wipe the remaining blood on the sheets.

Kimblee goes out the next day, though with a disguise that makes him look more like a woman than anything. It almost feels like home in this old headscarf and even older dress.

He isn't particularly curvy, but the pleated nature of the dress and belt he stole from the dead-man makes up for that, giving him a nice figure.

Solf lets a strand or two stick out, from the gray parts of course... He buys just a few ingredients to make a proper breakfast. Inside the dead-mans house there were a lot of egg cartons, they were all empty and piled up in what he assumed was a young womans' room. Hey, that's where I got these clothes from...

There's a man, a bit shorter than Kimblee, though not by much, and he approaches with clear intent plastered on his face, a sly smirk along with matching sunglasses.

"What's a pretty thing like you doin' all by yourself?" Shopping clearly, but the man doesn't seem to care whether or not Kimblee would've been a kind of... housewife. He nearly gags at the thought.

"Running errands, haven't cooked in a while..." The voice that comes out of Kimblee doesn't shock the man, just assumes that this woman is a chainsmoker. No unfortunately, Kimblee's always sounded a bit raspier than everyone else even when he was very young.

His calm, sly demeanor returns. "Well if you wouldn't mind, I was hoping we'd uh, hah, you know..." Kimblee censored this part, the original phrasing being quite... crude, but he stays cool for the time being. "I'd love to, actually... Follow me home?" Not his house but you get the idea. The man nods, seemingly as desperate as Kimblee is, albeit in a slightly different way.

The man, he compliments Kimblee on his glasses which accentuate his amber eyes nicely.

See, I'm not like them, I can pretend with you, Solf thinks to himself as they arrive back at the dead-mans house. The sun is gone now as they grope each other endlessly in the kitchen and tearing the others' clothes off. Not literally thankfully, that dress seemed... old. Maybe even older than the both of them combined.

Fuck this, this is no time to even think about cooking a meal. Kimblee lays flat on his back on the mattress as the man he invited fingerfucks him, he curls his fingers inside, pressing and pushing at Solf's buttons that make him see stars, crying out in pleasure.

Fuck, Kimblee groans softly as the man enters him, feeling him throb inside. And when he moves, it's almost in tandem with the growing pain on the inside of Kimblee's skull, like fingers drenched into the recesses of his brainmatter. He doesn't have time to care about that, getting lost in the throbbing wet feeling between his legs where their bodies meet.

Solf's nails dig into the back of the man as he practically pounds Kimblee into the mattress. "Please--" Kimblee rasps, the man's hips stuttering for a moment as he tries to understand what Solf saying. "Touch me--" Solf gasps as the man places a hand between them and rubs at his clit, making Kimblee practically convulse as he comes, and the man finishes inside soon afterward.

They lay there in the mess of their bodies, hot and unfortunately sticky. Kimblee struggles uncomfortably to push the man off of him, too heavy. Or Kimblee is just too fragile. "Sorry," The man mumbles before pulling out, making Solf exhale through his nose.

Aftercare isn't either of these peoples' strongsuit obviously, but they try. "Why's the tile cracked?" Solf perks his head up at the man's inquiry, how the hell is he supposed to explain that? "An accident," The man chuckles softly, smiling. "Hell of an accident..."

I don't even know his name, and he sure doesn't know mine. Even after seeing the tattoos and questioning them for a moment, but Kimblee ignored those incessant inquiries in favor of more... pressing matters.

But the man questions him again, holding one of Kimblee's hands in his. "Hm... Never seen ones like these before... You an alchemist or somethin'?" Solf hums, nodding, not really caring if the man puts the pieces together sooner or later. "Was never all that good at it though." The man chuckles at the thought. "I'm sure a sweet lil thing like you could be a great alchemist, greatest of all time..."

He gets uncomfortably close to Kimblee, a hand drifting down his torso. "Maybe." Solf responds dryly, gripping the hair on the mans head, tight. "Only if you use your tongue." Like a command, maybe even a threat, it sounds threatening enough for the man it seems, a stable fear in his eyes as Kimblee grins with power.

The man shuffles down between Kimblee's legs, lifting his thighs with his rough hands. Solf's hand holds tightly on the man's hair, directing him every which way as if he were a puppet, a toy, to be used.

The mans' tongue writhes and flicks at him, making Solf squirm, especially when the feeling of skittering across his spine returns. Kimblee just closes his eyes, he doesn't have the space to complain about those fuckers for now as the mans tongue makes him feel so fucking good--

His hand tightens, definitely tearing some hair out from the man's head but he can't think at the moment. Of course I can't. My fucking back hurts. but Solf can't help the feeling coursing through him and letting out a shuddery moan as he comes.

Eventually, he lets go and frees the man from his clutching hand, relaxing into the sheets, panting softly. The man licks his lips, filthy, Kimblee thinks.

"How'd you get these?" Fresh cuts along Kimblee's right arm. "You ask too many questions," Solf rasps, hands clenching for a moment on the man's skin when they get close to each other again. "Just making sure you're alright..." Solf smirks for a moment. "How sweet." Almost too sweet, but he leaves that part out.

Whatever, this isn't the first time Kimblee has slept in his own mess.

In the morning, the man gets a little too close again, not that Solf really minds, but have some self-control for fuck sake. Kimblee will say this to himself as if he has any self-control either.

Thankfully, the man leaves soon, or at least, he would have been leaving.

"Where do you think you're going?" Not a question, a threat. The man chuckles, home, he says, Solf laughs for a moment before telling him to wait a moment. Kimblee leaves to the kitchen for a moment to grab a knife, hiding it behind his back then going back to the man for one last kiss before

stabbing the man in the back, he pushes Solf back, he stumbles, but does not fall. The man yells something but Kimblee isn't listening, putting his hands together and reaching out quickly for the mans' face.

His head is gone, haha, he goes limp, haha.

There is a splatter going upwards on the wall where his face would have been.

"You're too easy."

Kimblee plays with the dead body after letting it bleed, he'll clean up the blood later, maybe. He licks it off the wall, some of it at least, grabbing the dead-mans hands in his own and biting his fingers until they crunch and break off under the pressure of Kimblee's jaw. There is bugs inside of the dead-man, not exactly surprising to him.

"Do you see me now," Solf hums quietly to the dead-man. "I am the devil," Though he is much more akin to a fallen angel, in nature at least, not so much origin. "And I am here to do the devil's work." He chuckles almost gleefully, chewing on a finger he bit off earlier, but careful to not bite down on the bone he already severed.

Solf eats the skin and nail, muscle and fat of the dead-man, not caring whether or not he contracts some kind of disease from this. He got what he wanted, why can't I do the same? He chews on the dead-mans body for quite a long time, long enough that it makes him sick, the worms and centipedes writhe so badly in his stomach that he can't help but vomit.

This isn't worth it.

Solf takes a deep breath, then begins to clean himself for what feels like the last time, and he can't tell why. He takes a bath, the blood washing off and seeing in the shower tile a fascimile of a young girl, who he would've been had circumstances been a little different.

I've been running for a long time, it seems.

He should leave soon, go somewhere far, far away. Maybe Resembool, that'd be a nice place to reminisce on his childhood. Not that it was good or anything. Except for the fishing-with-grandpa part, he liked that.

Weeks pass, actually, Kimblee isn't sure how much time passes exactly, but it seems like weeks. Solf goes out again to buy essentials, maybe food, and hopefully not pick up another man. Whilst in the middle of picking out an apple, to look like an asshole of course, he is interrupted by a small child. "Ma'am do you know where the train station is?" The voice that comes out of this rather small boy almost startles Kimblee, reminding him vaguely of what he himself sounded like as a kid. "Uh, no, sorry kid..." Solf answers as soon as he snaps out of his memories.

The kid looks disappointed, making a sort of groan though it sounded more like a growl, brushing his hair for a moment with his fingers, nervously fidgeting. "Thanks anyway," he says before rushing off to wherever, Solf wouldn't know, he wasn't about to follow some kid.

Kimblee couldn't respond in time, whatever, it's not like he knew the runt personally, then goes about his day.

When he finally gets back to the dead-mans house, he cleans it up as best he can, burying the other dead-man though not in the same spot. He will be gone for a long time, he takes the keys anyway.

It's midnight, a Sunday when Kimblee finally leaves the dead-mans house and taking the dead-mans car to drive far, as far as he can go before running out of gas. I should not be allowed to drive.

This road feels like it goes on forever, the same streetlamp looping thousands of times over. Unfortunately I hear them again, the stupid fucking insects, they crawl under my gloves but I can't let go of the wheel. They bite and I feel it sting but I can't let go of the wheel no matter what. That horrible stupid joint pain I've experienced since I was twelve comes along with this, but I can't let go of the wheel.

I really shouldn't be allowed to drive.

It takes me hours before finally reaching Resembool. There's an abandoned house there, it's my grandfather's house.

You know, I don't remember a lot about him other than his jokes, which I didn't understand as a small child. I was mean and terribly loud to him, I don't regret what I did however since he was definitely mean, but the day he died? I don't cry, was never much of a crier, but I felt hollow that day. Like there was a hole in my chest that only he filled with fishing trips and teasing me about my glasses.

I don't think I've cried ever since, not like that at least.

There's something in the way of the door, heavy pressed against it. When Solf gets through eventually, pushing it with all his strength, which isn't much because I've been in prison for the past six years but I digress, Kimblee finds the thing pressed against the door was a box, a big one, but he'll come back to that later.

Solf is surprised by how strangely well-kept the old house is. It's dusty sure, but not as if the man who left behind this house was pronounced dead recently. Again, I don't keep track of time, but even I know that this is wrong, I was fourteen when he passed, how the hell is the house this clean?

If there is someone hiding in here, I'm sure I'll get them eventually. They'll get blown to bits, who cares anymore. I certainly don't, my old co-workers didn't either.

Kimblee walks to the kitchen with caution, turning the sink handle and the water works. The water shouldn't be working, but it is. He's definitely broken into this house, but is it not abandoned? This confuses him greatly but at least he can take a shower now. The tile is quite rusty but it'll do, Kimblee turns the handle and the water sprays like hell from the faucet, he quickly changes it to the shower head and it's just as bad but thankfully it soon adjusts.

There's that urge again, how unfortunate. Though I've waited enough haven't I? A hand slips between Solf's legs, he imagines it's someone elses as he touches himself, his heavy breathing blending in with the steam from the shower. Still not cold, not cold enough, not warm enough, he fidgets with the handle before just settling on the exact middle where it sits, then goes back to masturbating, as one does.

It almost becomes boring to masturbate for Kimblee, takes too much work, he says to himself. Foreplay is tedious but so is trying to orgasm, there is no winning here for him.

He stops, he cleans himself, maybe going back over a spot he thought he missed, touches himself, gets bored, this goes on for about an hour until he finally gets out.

Solf lays in the lonely yet quite comfortable bed, much more so than the dead-mans, he practically sinks into it, a shape where his body is, a shape where he belongs. Though noticably this isn't the same bed his grandfather had, the frame at least, this mattress is definitely his. It still smells like him, just a little bit.

In the morning Kimblee goes to unpack whatever he brought with him, along with moving the chest that seems so familiar into a better spot. It has no stickers, dusty, it has fingerprints on it, those aren't his, but are quickly overwritten.

As soon as Solf is done with his things, putting them in easy-to-remember places, which is out in the open except for the food that needs to be refrigerated.

How long was that drive even? It felt like hours, felt like I never stopped, but I'm sure I did... It's fine, this is normal.

Anyway, Solf goes to open the box where it sits in the living room, it's locked but there isn't anything a little alchemy can't fix, right? Though he does not use his typical alchemy as his explosive nature would find, well, natural, he draws a familiar transmutation circle on the box. Something he learned once a long time ago, something he'd obessively draw page after page but never use.

The locks dematerialize, turning into rusty metal lumps, a shell of its former self. Kimblee opens the box and finds photo albums, some having yellowed dingy colored covers and pages due to their age. There's even photos of him in here, photos of him with his grandpa at a bridge, a bridge he hasn't been to since the funeral.

Pictures upon pictures of them together, along with family gatherings, (Which I despised, mind you.) weddings, birthdays, everything. This chest kept everything. Even if there is some unsavory memories embedded forever into some of these photographs, it hurts much less than Solf would've expected, to look back.

Solf lives quietly, comfortably in this old battered house, sure the lights don't work as often he would like but... it was like his home, the one that cared, at least. Acting out was always my strongsuit though, wasn't it?

Weeks pass, he goes out grocery shopping again. He gets rudely interupted by a-- "Hello ma'am have you seen a car like this around these parts?" A military official, sleazy it seems, he holds the paper with the description of the car in one hand, lazily, and a cigarette still in his mouth as he speaks. He describes it as, blue, quite old, clearly a rare model but not a fancy one. How shit is this guy at his job? "No, sorry..." He takes it, shrugging, thanking Solf anyway.

...When the man leaves, or goes just far enough away, Solf immediately lets out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. That's his car, the dead-mans car, the car I fucking stole. How the hell did I not get pulled over on the way here to Resembool!? Assuming they've been looking for it for a while.

When Kimblee gets home, he's paranoid, almost to the point of insanity. He needs to hide the car, but there's nowhere to hide it, oh God.

There's a knock on the door the day after, Solf gets a feeling that he knows what this is about. He opens the door to see a man who, in Kimblee's eyes, is an embarassment to the study of flame alchemy itself. But he's not about to open old wounds now is he?

"Hello ma'am I was just--" He stutters for a moment, taking in the appearance of Kimblee. "Sorry you just look... really familiar." He goes on, "I had been notified recently that there was a stolen vehicle spotted around... here." He vaguely gestures behind himself. "Now I've noticed it's... in your driveway. Care to explain how it got there?" Solf sighs, the man he once considered an ally (though not to it's fullest extent) during the Ishval civil war, is as dense as ever.

"Is that really any of your business?" Kimblee pushes Roy, forcing him to stumble backwards onto the concrete. "It's my car. Plain and simple." Roy glances at the car for a moment. "Whether or not it's yours, the liscense plate matches that of vehicles from Central." Shit. Kimblee cringes for a moment. "Did you move here recently or something? I feel like I'm missing a lot of info here."

Solf pushes Roy again, further. "Is this even your house?" Roy taunts, and Kimblee nearly puts his palms together. "It is in fact my house, you see that?" Solf points at something which absolutely gives away his identity, a small sign which is... much older than him. "K-Kimblee... family? You're... You're related to the Crimson Alchemist, yes?" Solf has to hold back smiling. "In fact that is me, yes." The color drains from Roy's face, Solf revels in showing his tattooed palms to the insolent man. "You..." Roy growls, looking like he's ready to snap. Haha, get it? I'm in some serious shit right now I shouldn't joke about this.

"Don't take him away from me!" Now that's something Kimblee wasn't expecting at all. A violent reaction sure, but ... who the hell is he even talking about? Roy lunges toward Solf, punching with a fury he never thought was even possible from this man. There is a split second reaction of Kimblee putting his palms together, a gasp is heard just before the explosion, then ringing.

The house is fine, that's what he's most worried about, but he fears it won't be like this for long. He runs, runs until he falls and slips in the mud near a river. "Don't you dare!" There's a snap, he can't avoid what comes next, it's like hell is being rained upon him with the wrath of a thousand devils like himself.

But it stops soon after, the pain remains but Kimblee can run now, he...

Roy tackles him again, at this rate, Solf could actually die, but he's fought for too long to just be treated like an animal again. "Don't you ever come near him!" Roy yells almost as if in a jealous rage, which this is, and I recognize that, but I don't know why. I don't think I'll ever know.

His palms are his only defense now, wringing Roy's neck for a moment, he kicks, Solf escapes from under him.

This doesn't last long though, Roy stares down at Kimblee like a rabid animal, his gaze never breaking. Kimblee rasps as he puts his hands together for what feels like the last time. Roy deflects this attack and all of the debris with it, but some still slip past, unfortunately.

Roy stumbles backward, and he sees Solf come lunging toward him through the smoke, almost like a mirror image from the first time he met Scar. But that is neither here nor there as Kimblee grasps and nearly gropes Roy whilst trying to scratch and tear away at him, his nails do more damage to Roy's face rather than his futile attempts at alchemic explosions.

His eye, Kimblee laughs as Roy punches him then clutches his own face. His eye, hahahaha, Solf can't stop laughing at the sight and nearly falls over. I might faint. I might... uh...

Kimblee groans as he feels that horrid sharp pain in his hands again, he runs, far far away from Roy.

Roy can't chase him, he'd die if he did.

They both seem to retreat elsewhere.

When Kimblee is finally safe and alone again at the old house, he screams. He can't stop screaming. "Coward!" It is unclear, even to himself , who he is referring to. "Coward! You are a fucking coward!" Solf growls and tears at himself again, Roy's skin still under his own nails along with the shells of maggots.

Maggots. All of them. Filthy cunts made up from bugs and leather. I am not much better. I will never be better than them. None of us deserve to even be slightly better. The mirror is cracked, when did it crack? I see myself, myself and only myself. Only myself. Myself.

Kimblee always hated how so many things got stuck in his head, it's an eternity in there, you can never be as good as a dead person. I will never be as good as a dead person. Never.

This is fine, I'm... fine. I'll sleep it off, and hopefully Roy won't come back to finish me off. I got what I wanted. I hope they don't take the car, though. That would suck, haha. This gash isn't going away anytime soon, hopefully it'll look cool when it's healed. I'll live, I can live through this. If Roy takes this house from me then I have nothing left. I don't have time to think about this do I? I'll be fine... I'll be fine.

Kimblee rests his body on his grandfathers' bed for what feels like the last time.

Though when he finally wakes up, he feels a weight, an unfamiliar pressure next to him, as if there were another person in the bed with him. Well, to Kimblee, it feels more like the presence of a small animal, or a child, something small at least.

It's weight shifts, seemingly not caring whether or not it wakes up Solf.

When I open my eyes I see a kid. They look familiar enough, I don't ever forget a face but they are turned around... I can't see all of them. Solf chooses to not disturb the child, falling asleep once more and feeling the child twist and turn.

Kimblee next awakens to a poke, another, and another, he opens his eyes to see the kid. Oh, I was right, the kid who was asking about the train station however long ago. "Oh thank fuck you're alive..." The kid sighs, relieved. I mean, I would also be somewhat concerned if I was asleep next to a dead man. "What made you think I was dead?" The kid looks at me like I'm crazy. "Your face, it's..." The kid almost tries to reach out and touch my face as if it would heal me. "...Oh." Solf says reluctantly, looking away even though the kid never really made eye-contact in the first place.

Wasn't the mirror broken? Maybe that's why I couldn't feel this... Solf gets up quickly to see himself in the mirror, which is in fact not broken. "This... This is what a former ally does?" There's cuts, deep ones, clearly from debris and not from the fire. "If it makes you feel any better mister, the same thing happened to me once."

It makes Solf a little sick to think about, how old even is this kid, and he's seemingly also been betrayed? "You look... unscathed... How?" The kid shrugs. "Can't help it." Ominous, Solf thinks. He goes to grab the old medkit that has obviously never been replaced.

Two bandaids and hydrogen peroxide. Great, thanks grandpa. The kid leaves, like he knows I want to be alone, and I start this... extremely messy procedure, one I was taught by my grandpa, though never had any use for until now. I'm not going to describe all of that but you get the idea, the fucking thing burns, stings a bit too, the smell that the hydrogen peroxide gives off hurts my fucking nose.

I could look better. I could look a lot worse, too. No time for this, though. Solf goes down to the kitchen to cook, the kid is still there for some reason, he's chewing the inside of his mouth and looking absentmindedly out the window. I wonder how he got here, but I remember what it was like to be a kid, being prodded at with stupid questions.

Just one egg, Kimblee says to himself, just one, he burns half of it by accident but still eats it afterward. Then another egg, actually, two, the kid looks fucking ill, sickly pale and malnourished even, he'll need it.

He brings the plate to the kid, he hesitates to take it from Solf for some reason, and after a couple of hours pass and he sees the kid lurking in another room. And when Solf goes to the living room to look at more of the photo albums, the plate is sitting exactly where the kid was earlier, half-eaten.

Maybe the kid wasn't that hungry, maybe Kimblee should've asked, maybe they should talk more but everytime Solf tries to make eye-contact with the kid he feels very offput. Maybe they shouldn't talk more, but it's not a bad thing, it seems. They both want to be alone in their own spaces, but the kid hides a lot more than Solf does.

Kimblee wishes there wasn't just one bed here. Solf looks up from his stolen book to see the kid laying beside him. "We're you the one that used the chest to keep the door closed?" He nods after a moment of hesitation, curling up further into the blankets. "...You are very strong." Kimblee says reluctantly, almost intimidated by the kid. He could barely push it, how could a child half his size even do that? The kid also doesn't respond, and seems to be asleep now.

Now, it's in the morning when I find something very strange about this kid, a couple of very audible thuds (going downward) wake me, I go to check what made the noise and the kid is sitting there, on the floor, at the bottom of the stairs.

He looks up at me. "Hi." Now, imagine you're me, you only see the kid and no sort of heavy object near the stairs, so I assume he fell, right? But the kid looks entirely unscathed, no tears, no scrapes, nothing. "Are you alright...?" Kimblee asks after a moment of taking the sight in with all of it's absurdness. "Yeah." He gets up and dusts himself off. So he did fall, but...

I'll leave that thought for now, because it seems we're going to stick together for a long time.

[youarestellarverse]

[image description: a purple banner that has the words “work in progress” on it. end of description]

Untitled Stellarverse Fic - Jason & Appendicitis

Content warning for medical emergencies/infection/hospitals/implied child abuse. Set a day after Sweeney Todd, referenced in my latest epistolary fic (here).

"You're going to be okay," Percy soothes, squeezing Jason's clammy hand. The EMT gives him a look that makes ice crawl up his spine. 

"You're in good hands," she tells Jason, pointedly. "We'll do everything we can for you." 

Jason's so out of it he probably can't tell the distinction, but Percy can. They don't know if he'll be okay, and they need to manage their expectations.

Forcing the terror into the background, Percy reaches over with his free hand and brushes a strand of sweaty black hair off Jason's forehead, which is still scorching hot. The sirens wail as the ambulance speeds through the city, every bump they hit making Jason grimace and whine in pain. 

He's not crying, somehow. Percy's pretty sure he'd be halfway between sobbing and screaming, if it were him strapped to a gurney with infection raging through his abdominal cavity. 

He pictures Jason's asshole dad, then imagines beating him with an adult tuna and knocking him clear off his feet. There's no fucking way he didn't have something to do with it— he's actually home for the first time in weeks, and the jerk never even bothered to come to the show. 

"I'm here, dude," Percy says instead of voicing his revenge fantasies, brushing another lock of hair away from Jason's pallid face. "I'm with you. It's okay." 

He doesn't believe himself for a second, but it seems like Jason does. He smiles weakly, anyway, and squeezes Percy's hand with terrifyingly little pressure. 

It's terrible timing on about a thousand fronts, but the most immediate right now is how much worse Jason looks with his hair still dark. It made him look pale and tired when he was still functional; now even the flush of fever looks more like livor mortis, contrasting so sharply with the black dye Thalia put in. 

Fuck. Thalia. The poor woman's going to lose her shit, and honestly, Percy can't blame her. 

"Do you want me to call your sister when we get there?" 

They hit another pothole. Jason yelps, fingers clenching around Percy's. Percy bites the inside of his cheek, hard enough to taste blood, and doesn't flinch. 

Jason nods. Percy thinks of his mother, gathers up all the good feelings that come from it, and pours them into his smile.  

"I'll wait for her," he assures. The ambulance turns, slows; thank god, because if they hit another bump and Jason makes another helpless noise like that, Percy will start crying for him.  

Getting out of the ambulance is a blur. The EMT has to pry their hands apart, but gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as they rush Jason through the doors. 

"—sixteen year old male presenting with severe abdominal pain and high fever, suspected peritonitis—" 

Percy wanders in a fugue state. He makes it to the waiting room, somehow, but can't remember the trip. He sinks on shaky legs into a chair and pulls Bessie out of his pocket. 

"Dammit," he mutters, throat catching. It's not actually because of the lack of bars, and he suspects the elderly woman next to him understands as she smiles tiredly at him. 

"Better outside," she tells him in a soft, high, musically-accented voice. He smiles back at her, the look in her dark eyes reminding him of his mom. 

"Thank you," he tells her thickly. "And whoever you're waiting for, I hope they'll be okay." 

Her expression turns grim. There's a strand of silver hair loose from her braid. 

"Thank you," she replies, quiet and haunted. "Very kind. Go on." 

She shoos him towards the doors. He resolves to buy her dinner, even if he has to walk half a mile for decent takeout. 

First things first, though: he pages through his contacts until he gets to P, for pinecone face. He's so frazzled he doesn't even remember the stupid joke that started that nickname.

But Thalia's going to panic enough for the both of them. Percy takes a deep breath, orients himself— there's a bodega down the street, unless it's closed since he was eleven and came in to set his forearm after Gabe broke it in two places— and presses the call button. 

It rings once. Thalia's voice is tense when she picks up.

"Something's wrong with Jason."

"Guess I'm not the only one who noticed him turning into a walking corpse," Percy mutters, a weak attempt at a joke. "We're at NYP. You should get here as fast as you can." 

"Fuck," Thalia chokes out. Percy can hear her tearing through her apartment, the jangling of keys, a banging of doors. "I fucking knew it. He looked awful yesterday. What happened?" 

"They think his appendix burst. I noticed he was sweating right before the game started, so I felt his forehead and he was burning up. I said, 'dude, you don't look so good', and he said 'I don't feel so good', which is when I started to worry." 

Thalia swears again. Another door slams.

"Because if he's admitting to pain at all, he's in agony." 

"Exactly," Percy mutters, rubbing at his face. "He got put in, ran about a yard and a half, collapsed and started puking, so I called 911 and here we are. He's in surgery and I'm hunting down caffeine." 

"I'm leaving my apartment now. Twenty minutes. Half an hour, tops." 

She hangs up without anything further. Percy closes his phone and takes a second to lean against a brick wall and try to slow down his breathing. 

When he's wrestled back his control, he sets off again for the bodega. He doesn't even notice himself dialing a series of numbers he memorized years ago. 

"Hi, sweetheart." 

"Hey, Mom. I—" 

His voice comes out startlingly raw. He chokes when he pictures the elderly woman in the lobby and her tired, sad face.

"Percy, what's wrong?" 

Gentle, concerned, but somehow still reassuring. Percy swallows, ignoring the curious look from the bored cashier. 

"Jason's in surgery," he manages. "I kept it together in the ambulance and while I was calling his sister, but—" 

"—you need a break from being the strong one," his mom finishes for him. 

His eyes sting. He shuts them, hard. 

"I'm going to wait for him. Are you— I know it's a lot when you have an appointment too, but are you up to keeping me company later?" 

"Honey, I'm pregnant, not immobile." The smile in her voice is audible, and Percy clings to it like a lifeboat. "What hospital are you at? We can head straight there after my ultrasound." 

"New York Presbyterian," Percy sighs, finally feeling himself relax a little. "Does that mean you'll have pictures of my sibling?" 

"By now, you might even be able to tell if you have the same nose." 

"Don't I have Dad's nose?" 

"Paul's is pretty similar. Green eyes, too. I guess I have a type." 

Percy, for the first time in what feels like years, bursts into laughter. 

"Mom, ew." 

Current wordcount: ~1300?

But hey, it's something that isn't Ruby, so I'll take it.

Ping list: @perseusjackson-jasongrace, @elaborateruses 💜 (am I forgetting someone? I feel like I am...)

[milqueandsugar]

🏵 Your Tea Is Ready 🏵

Parts:

https://milqueandsugar.tumblr.com/post/643788553154920448/can-you-techno-with-a-reader-who-is-constantly

https://milqueandsugar.tumblr.com/post/643889114110918656/idk-if-this-is-where-you-put-requests-but-do-you

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, injury

Genre: Angst

| Hear No Evil, Do No Evil |

After your second kind of a date kind of not a date your very cateful around Techno

Every part of you tells you your being paranoid, but the other knows that theres something he isn't telling you

You know the piglin to well not to know when he's lying

And you care to much to ignore it

Convinced he's done something to upset you Techno doesn't search for your company like he used to

Something both him and the voices aren't very happy about

Being in love is a new emotion for him, he loves Philza sure, he loves Steven but he's never been IN love

He never realized how different those statements were before

Just like when he goes to many days without a kill the voices begin to get louder and louder, only this time he had no idea how to please them

Before he had lost everything he could lose he used to lock himself away during these fits

Know that he knows himself better, and how to control himself, he just goes around slaying any animal that crossed paths with him

Not the most elegant solution but it brought more peace to his mind

Now with no idea how to get the voices quiet he's resorted to quite literally trapping himself in his bunker

He know's your upset

He's convinced himself it's because of him

Theres no way in hell he's going to see you when all he can think about is how good you smell, how your smile makes his frozen heart melt, how soft your skin is compared to his own, how lovingly you adjust his clothes or armour after battle

All the while he scars the stone ground with his claws, chanting mantras alongside unheard voices

It had been a good two weeks since you had heard from the piglin. Not entirely unusual for you, as you rather detested the cool weather up in the arctic. However knowing there was some sort of conflict between you and your best friend made you restless at night, you couldn't keep ignoring him. He didn't deserve that, plus you missed Philza's morning tea, the smell of campfires that clung to everything in his house, the way Steve would bring sticks for you to toss. You missed the magnificent bastards that made up the Antarctic empire. More importantly, you missed Technoblade.

By the time you reached the cabin you had noticed it was unusually still. Steve and Carl were out in the yard, mosing about but there was no sign of Technoblade or Philza. They were both pretty hard workers, stubborn as hell as well, seeing as it was half past twelve you would expect the two of them to be running around doing chores. Surprisingly however it was still, perhaps they had things inside to do? Or maybe they took your suggestion for a lunch break a bit more seriously then expected.

Entering the cabin you call out for them, nothing, looking around you couldn't help but notice how much of a mess everything was. You had only ever seen the house in this much disarray before they traveled, or that time Phil let a creeper into the house and things got fucken wild. But, if traveling was the case why was Carl out front? And why was Techno's sword hung up on the mantle.

And unsettling feeling began to creep over your shoulders as you slowly begin to pick up the clutter. You couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation for things, so you decided to wait until you could come up with one or was given one. The sun had long set before Phil arrived at the house, clearly surprised to find you still sorting through chests. Clearly worried as well.

You turn to greet the man but are quickly cut off, "what are you doing here?" He ushers quickly shitting the door behind him. "I was looking for Technoblade, why is something happening? Is the butcher gang back?" You explain, chest tightening with unease. Something was seriously wrong. "No, no nothing like that we aren't in any danger. Technoblade is having another fit, he's not doing very well at the moment. It might be best for you to leave" Phil warned, his usual cheerful voice dripping with a nervousness you hadn't heard from him in a long time. You wave off the older gentleman scoffing, "Phil you're forgetting I used to go hunting with him I've seen him pretty bad-" "He's locked himself in his bunker. He doesn't even trust himself anymore, he won't eat nor sleep, whatever he has going on in his head is far more then the two of us can handle at the moment" Phil cut you off. You stood in shock, he locked himself away? Technoblade hasn't done that in.. years! What the hell was going on with him.

You wanted to believe Phil was lying to you, that Technoblade was off terrorizing villagers and he was just buying his companion time. But the genuine look of fear in his emerald eyes made your stomach sink. "He's not well Y/N, I certainly don't want him to come back to you dead or injured. He'll come through eventually, just not right now. " The blonde approached you and wrapped strong arms around your shoulders, you hadn't even realized that you were crying until he began to shush you.

"Listen, listen, stay the night here. It's too late for you to travel especially in this sort of weather, in the morning I'll take you back home, I'll let you know immediately when hes better" He assures you, pulling away to cup your face in his hands and wipe your tears with his thumbs. "Let's get you to bed, come on, let's go." Fatherly wasn't something you saw much in Phil anymore, but you couldn't deny how comforting it was, if not a bit embarrassing to have the man tuck you into Techno's sheets before turning out the lamp.

As you lay in the blood God's bed, listening intently to the sound of the howling wind you began to scheme. Something you did best was planning, and this night was no different. You had no idea how long Techno had been like this, if you had the time to curse yourself for avoiding him you would, but for the moment you just needed to make sure he wasn't dead. Slipping from his bedroom and past Phil's you gather a plate of rather light food, knowing he'd get sick if he ate something to heavy.

Stealing one of the Piglins cloaks you shield the food with your arms as you sneak our of the house. You knew Philza only had your best interest at heart, but he should have known better then to tell you your friend was in danger. Especially when that friend was less then a brisk walk away. By the time you get to the false wall your already shivering, the wind nipping at anything it could get at. Your nose was already beginning to run as you hit the disguised button and the wall drops.

At first you see nothing, the darkness and the snow fall blinding you to the scene in front of you. Stepping into what little shelter the cave provided you struggled to steady yourself after stepping on what looked to be the remains of a netherite chestplate. Hung up on the fact that he broke netherite with supposedly his bare hands you don't realize the Piglin lunging at you until your buried in the snow. Plates long discarded and broken you stare the husk of the man you knew in his wild eyes.

Almost like you could read the voices chants of your demise in the pools of ebony fear seemed to strike you harder then his fist. You heard your ribs breaking before you felt them, thank God for adrenaline. You felt nauseous, sick even as you blindly scratch and push at the weight on top of you. Grabbing a tusk by its base you pull left as hard as you can, taking his moment of unbalance to scramble away. Your hands grope for any sort of hold in the snowbank, desperate to get away from the beast on top of you. You dont make it far however before claws tear at the clothes and skin around your ankles, pulling you towards them with little care. Your screams of pain and/or fear are cut short by clawed hands tightening around your throat. Your pathetically small ones meet his, scratching desperately at the exposed hand with one while the other grabs a fist full of snow and smashes it into his face.

The white of the snow falling around you seemed denser then before, you felt cold, to your very bone under him. Under his stare. You've looked death before in the eyes, more then on one occasion, and you had never remembered them being so beautiful. For a split second you swear you hear another voice being carried by the wind, peeling your tear welled eyes from the piglin on top of you the fall towards the direction of the cabin, then at the shards of netherite. You had looked death in the eyes before, and you had yet to die. You weren't going to now.

Grabbing the shard and effectively slicing your hand open in the process you blindly begin to swing. Your chest burns, your skin burns, your vision is beginning to dim to nothing, all you can hear is the wind. Your stabs, or attempts at stabbing does little, with what minuscule amount of consciousness you have in yourself you get one finally blow, to somewhere before you cant feel anything anymore. You had never imagined death to feel so cold.

Technoblade's eyes begin to fall back into focus, pain driving the voices in his head silent as he looks down at the shard of netherite in his arm. More importantly his eyes fall onto a golden ring on the hand belonging to his attacker. A bear etched into its surface. That was Y/N's ring, he had given it to her for christmas. Anger flooding his chest he grinds his teeth, hands tightening around their neck. What right do they have to be wearing your ring? Dark eyes fall back down onto their attacker, bloodied and bruised.. and Y/N. His heart sunk faster then an anvil in a lake, scrambling backwards from your limp body he cant decide whether to look at you or his hands covered in your blood. No, no it couldn't be you, you were.. you were mad at him why would you come up? Why would you attack him?

Crawling to his side he lifted you into his arms, inspecting you closely. This had to be some sort of trick, some sort of lie? No, no you would never attack him you loved him, he loved you! That's why he was like this he was like this because he loved you! Scared lips began to quiver, and tears began to fall and subsequently freeze to his cheeks. No, no, no.

He couldn't think, his mind flooded with the screaming of the voices in his head, begging him to save you, to help you, to hold you. For once in his life he didnt know how, he couldn't save you. He had always been your knight in shining armour, and he cant save you.

He can't save you.

[everafterkeiji]

Song: Hiccup by Valley

Summary: After encountering a road block in your relationship, what path will you take to wind up your broken heart with Iwaizumi?

Pairings: Hajime Iwaizumi x fem!reader

Genre/Warning: angst, cursing

Word count: 6k

A/N: i promise myself i was going to write some bokuto fluff but this song keeps bringing me back to iwa😣 also pls listen to this song<3

2 YEARS AGO

"Tooru."

You call out to him, knees to the floor clutching tightly on your shirt, droplets to the wooden surface. Oikawa harshly closes his eyes, unable to let his eyes rest on your weakened state. He takes a deep breath when he hears your mournful sob. He hears how you took in rough gasps of air so he drops the box from his hands as he rushes to you, his knee scraping from sliding to the floor as he takes you in his chest as you sobbed even more. Oikawa allowing his own tears to fall on your clothes.

He consistently caresses your hair, as your sniffles and cries of pain covered the eary atmosphere of your apartment.

"Tooru." You call out again, he closes his eyes as he leans his head on yours. He dreaded every second that passed knowing he shouldn't be the one to comfort you, but he knew your savior wasn't going to rescue you this time.

"Do you think he'll miss me?"

"I know he will, darling." He assures you, and you wipe your eyes gasping for air once again before speaking again. He lets his hand slide down to your back, patting it every now and then.

"But there's someone better huh?"

Oikawa bites his lip, and you take this silence as an answer you'd never forget. Your lips tug upwards, grinning at how it stung when it came from Oikawa. To Tooru, no one could replace you. He couldn't envision someone to love his brother the way you did and no amount of pain can top how much you cherished each other but he couldn't answer because he was unsure of the motives of the past ace.

"Thank you for staying." You whisper and he pulled you closer as he sighs, glancing at the apartment that appeared in their late night video calls. The same room where he saw the brightest smile that was painted on Iwaizumi, the eyes that carried passion whenever you'd pop up. Visiting the apartment for the first time, he didn't expect how- lifeless it felt.

"Always."

PRESENT

You stretched as you rolled over to the side, used to the ghost of him. You shouldn't be used to it, he should be there to occupy it everyday but every morning you were just greeted by the chilliness he brought you.

The sun sneakily shined upon your eyes as you immediately turn away, expecting the memories to strike your heart like it does whenever the sun flaunted its rays.

"You're mesmerizing." He whispers, his pointer finger inched its way down to your cheek, smiling to himself. You hummed in response, shuffling in the sheets as his heart pounders at the sight of your shoulder peeking through the thin material, with the sunlight decorating your skin with its beauty.

You opened your eyes only to be surprised by how bright the sun was making you close them immediately, giggling to yourself. Who knew his heart could melt even more? Once you've slowly opened your eyes again, you gaze at your Hajime placing a hand on his cheek. With his hand on your chin, he slowly lifts it so your lips meet with his as you smile, running your hand from his cheek to his hair, while closing your eyes at the

He pulls away as butterflies swarmed inside him, pushing back the string of hair that landed in your eyes.

"I love you."

"Forever?"

"And ever after."

You curse at the usual memory that would pass you every morning. It annoyed you how there wasn't a day where you weren't starting the morning this pissed off. Realistically speaking, you adored how your memories would bring life to your body once in a while but when love appears, pain tags along- making it hard to enjoy the only things that could take away the emptiness.

Without him, you could never bring yourself to close the curtains. A habit you've devastatingly brought upon yourself.

Whenever the sun rose and it's light surrounded your room, it was the closest embrace you could ever have from him.

You let your fingers graze over the longing sensation on your lips. Incapable of forgetting how every kiss from his plush lips made you high. Intoxicated with his devotion to you. Each having it's own unique way of bringing you stories from the way it synced with yours.

Do you ever think about coming back to kiss my mouth? You ask yourself, sadly letting go of your lips before stepping into the bathroom.

I miss the taste of you and it's always been you. Iwaizumi thinks to himself as he feels the tingle of coldness from his lips. Like you, he adored the way his mornings were blessings but his room looked like a grave for his emotions.

Curtains closed, not allowing to let the sun peak through since the light in his world wasn't there to bring back the life in his soulless apartment.

He steps out of bed entering his bathroom, brushing his teeth as he rubs his eyes with his free hand.

"S-shush! Baby- baby stop talking!" He says chuckling before placing the toothbrush in your mouth. You two were superbly drunk and it seems like even if Iwaizumi was drunk to the gods, he was still the responsible one in the relationship. You were already about to pass out but his loud laughter kept you awake.

"But Hajime- let me sleep already, you're so noisy bub." You pout but he chuckles again. You turn behind you try and sit on top of the counter but you slid off when you jumped. Iwaizumi shakes his head with a grin as he places his hand on your waist before effortlessly lifting you and placing you on the bathroom sink.

You continue to brush your teeth as he watches how your eyes would droop every second. You spit out the toothpaste before taking in some water and spitting it out as well. You wiped your mouth before bringing your arms outward. "Am I okay now babe? Hajime- honey I wanna sleep." You beg as he rolls his eyes taking you in his arms, like a bride.

"And what about you mister? Did you brush your teeth?" You teased, taking in the aroma of alcohol he had. He bit his lips trying not to laugh but he shakes his head, answering your question. You let out a gasp of betrayal as you hopped out of his arms grabbing the toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it, but you hear his cackle making you laugh as well, addicted to how it made you join him in an instant.

"Princess, at least put it on the actual brush. Not the other end you dumbie." He states making you look down on your failure of an attempt. You let out an "Oh." and this brought tears to both of your eyes from laughing endlessly.

He gazes at his reflection through the mirror as he takes a deep breath. It felt like if he'd utter a word, his voice would already crack at the resurfaced moment. He scolds himself for having minimal change in a span of two years. He told himself that he shouldn't wallow in the grief but he endured it for days.

There wasn't a clear way for him to move on, especially when you drained him from all functions of his mind. The only thing that interests him to be happy was that he held on to the probability of meeting you again. Even if the chances were slim to none, he'd take anything that there is left just to see you again.

Though it seems like, he'd have to suffer longer just for it to happen.

-

Maybe I'd understand the things that you'd do. You whisper as you take another gulp of alcohol. It was Saturday, your supposed late night sessions with Iwaizumi but instead you were solo for today, and maybe for the rest of the years. You bitterly chuckle to yourself as you didn't bother to answer Oikawas call. Your phone kept going off, receiving dozens of messages and missed calls from the setter. He deeply hated Saturdays, or at least your version of it.

Whether you chose to bottle down every beer you had, or scream and get smothered in mascara stains from crying, or even worse, both. Sometimes you'd even mistaken Oikawa for Iwaizumi, and Oikawa allows it knowing it's a way for you to cope. He hated how far away he was but he strictly told you that if you were ever to pursue yourself to go to the club, he'd drop everything and book a ticket to you immediate, of course this was enough for you to listen especially when you'd feel guilty for wasting his time.

Oikawa knew better than to ask for Iwaizumis help. He remained a bridge for the two of you, knowing he'd encounter to different sides. Iwaizumi had him pick up his belongings in your apartment, denying to step foot in your room. In which brought Oikawa to tears at sight of his best friends past lover in such a disaster of a state. So granting Iwaizumis wish, he stayed.

"Why can't you do it? It's your apartment." Oikawa argued making Iwaizumi grunt in pain as he secretly wipes away the tears in his eyes. He sighs before facing the setter.

"She hates me, Oikawa." He says, staring directly at the boy. Oikawa scoffs but stares at the ground, hands to his side formed in a fist.

Is it that bad? He questions.

"Iwa- what happened?" He asks nervously but Iwaizumi only closes his eyes as he tries to get rid of the screams from the previous night.

"I'll tell you soon. When you see her, maybe you'll understand why I can't do this, why I can't face her. Just please do me one favor." The tone in his voice slowly lessens with the last sentence, making Oikawas heart ache for the two of you. Looking at Iwaizumis eyes, Oikawa could see the way he was holding back, but from what? There was a certain change in his usual stare- he looked lost.

Oikawa sits on the couch as he lets his hand gesture for Iwaizumi to speak. He couldn't say anything else but he hoped that Iwaizumi would take his silence as an answer already. Oikawa would do anything for Iwa, and if he was your other half, and Oikawa will do the same to you.

"Save her."

"From what, Iwa?"

"From what I've done."

Oikawa was impatiently waiting for your response but it seems you've decided to push him aside again. Although he was home, the distance from him to you was troublesome so he insisted to call you instead.

He assumed that last year you've gotten better since you spent you Saturday sleeping instead of drinking, but it progressively got worse.

"I mean, one drink wouldn't hurt right?"

He was dumbfounded when one drink turned into hundreds. He knew it was difficult to continue especially when you and Iwaizumi were having the time of your lives everytime. Whether you were extremely drunk, he knew that you two acted the complete same when you were sober. There wasn't a difference, meaning that's just how love worked between you two.

"Tooru- honey!" You shout as Iwaizumi pouts. It was your 4th anniversary and Oikawa decided to call to greet the lovely couple another successful year of your relationship.

"It's shittykawa to you, babe." Iwaizumi teases making Oikawa rolls his eyes. Through the camera, he sees you above Iwaizumi with arms wrapped around his neck without your chin resting on the boys head as he smiles, content to see that 4 years and love didn't change, not even a bit.

"Disgusting lovebirds, happy anniversary to you both!" Oikawa cheers as you giggle, blowing a kiss to him for greeting you two.

"Thank you Tooru-" your words were cut off by a gasp of realization as you shake Iwaizumi. Hajime takes in your excitement as he shakes his head at your actions.

"Hajime! There's no way you're not making Tooru as your best man- anyway! Tooru! This my official invitation for you to be his best man at our wedding!" Oikawa laughs as he raises his eyebrow to Iwaizumi who had a smirk on his lips.

"Well, I will be overly disappointed if I wasn't chosen. If Iwa-chan declines, I'll be your best man instead Y/N, or if you take my offer, I'll be the groom." He winks to you as you laugh before taking another sip of your drink. Iwaizumi flips off Oikawa and the setter only returns this by poking his tongue out to his best friend.

"So is that right, Iwa-chan? Will you finally bend the knee for the lovely lady?" With Oikawas question, you turn to Iwaizumi as if you were nervous. You bit your lip looking at your boyfriend before he pecks your lips catching you off guard as he looks at you with a smirk.

"I'd be a fool not to." He says making you squeal, as you immediately cover your face in your hands, embarassed by how red you got. Oikawa rolls his eyes, envious at the love you shared. Although, he is joyous that you've made Iwaizumi the happiest man he can be, even if you two weren't married yet, to Oikawa it looks like your relationship will only lead to the altar.

There wasn't a single doubt to that.

"Y/N! I thought you've forgotten how to pick up the phone again." He scolds you but his anger washes away when he sees you with red eyes and sniffling uncontrollably.

"Hajime." She calls out, as Oikawa sighs into his pillow realizing it's another night of him acting as Iwaizumi. He's already heard all the things you wanted to say to the missing boy and he accepted the fact that you'll never have the heart to say it to Iwaizumi himself.

"Why do I miss you, now that you're out of my life?" You cried. Oikawa only rests his chin on the palm of his hand as you continued to pour your sadness upon him. You swing the bottle in your hands before downing another wave of liquor.

"I wanna know what you're doing tonight." You whisper as you take your phone, clicking on Iwaizumis contact but before you could, Oikawa spoke, knowing your next intentions.

"No, not again Y/N." He says but you shake your head your finger threatening to press it already.

"Y/N listen to me, Iwa would have contacted you right now but this isn't the time!" He argued but you scoffed, angry tears brimming in your eyes.

"No! Then when will that time come then! I've been waiting for so fucking long already! It's never gonna happen 'cause he's forgotten me- Fuck!" You shouted, taking Oikawa by surprise as you collapse to the floor once again, Oikawa coming back to the sight of you he wanted to forget.

"Y/N- babe I'm sorry-"

"Enough, Oikawa. If you could've been honest that Hajime's found another, then-then maybe I-" your voice cracks as you stressfully runs your fingers through your hair, gripping it tight in your hands as you let out another doleful sob, breaking Toorus heart.

"I don't know what do anymore." You whispered, your heart shattering in to even more finer pieces. You couldn't even put into words how you've been in torment for years.

It finally dawned on you that you weren't headed to the altar, you were headed in a different path.

Without him.

"Y/N- listen- Iwaizumi-" you ended the call leaving Oikawa stunned as he drops the phone in his hands in frustration and in regret. He decided to visit Iwaizumi, knowing it'd be hard to ever communicate with you again, especially that you've been struck by a wrong thought.

And no one else could handle you the way Hajime would.

"Iwa-chan."

"Oikawa? What is it?"

"I fucked up, I'm sorry."

-

Iwaizumi held his breath as Oikawa explained what happened. He couldn't wrap his head around the unintentional pain Oikawa has given you.

"Iwa, I'm so sorry." Tooru says, making Iwaizumi close his eyes visioning your features crushing at the idea of him having somebody by his side.

Hajimes eyes would never betray you. The only reflection that stayed in his eyes, was the future that was thrown away.

"Oikawa, hey it's okay, I understand." Iwaizumi says with a soft tone to assure Oikawa. Tooru would never intentionally hurt you, he was there to save you. Even if Iwaizumi didn't ask him to take care of you, Oikawa would do everything to bring a smile on your lips. As much love you have to Hajime, its the same amount you have to Oikawa.

"Leaving isn't bad because you're gonna come back with something even better and that's the best version of yourself."

It's your words that he counted on. He believed that he wasn't being selfish, or prideful. You made him believe that finding himself was enough to get him all the medals, the passion, and everything he wanted. So he'd want nothing more than to give thanks to you.

"Iwa."

Oikawa breaks the silence. Iwaizumi looks at him while biting down on his fingers, his heart beating too loudly at the thought of you.

"Why didn't you call her- not even giving her a proper goodbye." Tooru asks with masked anger in his tone. How could he help Hajime when he's blocking him from the truth?

"Iwaizumi. Answer me. For once." Oikawa begs, but once he's met with the silence, he's never been more eager to give in to anger.

"I just- I can't let it happen again, Oikawa. Not to her, not to us."

"Baby, what movie do you want to watch on Saturday? I've seen so many good ones lately." Iwaizumi turns to you with an exhausted expression. You were arranging the condiments in the cabinet, waiting for his response.

"Can't we- reschedule? I-I have something to go to-"

"You can't blow me off for the third time this week, Iwa." You spat, sick of the excuses. Has it really been three times? Iwaizumi questions as he leans on the couch, letting out a sigh. To which is a response you didn't expect to receive.

"I've been busy." He lied, he may not feel it, but there wasn't a single hesitation when he spoke. You memorize his schedules, his after meetings, the excused he's mentioned didn't even bother to make sense. It hurt how he was able to come up so easily, not even thinking about you'd be able to piece them all together.

"Or are you just tired, Iwaizumi?"

You asked rudely. He looks at you before rolling his eyes, covering your heart in bitterness at his pride.

"So what if I am?"

He talked back, hitting you with a bigger wave of emotions. You slammed the door of the cabinet, marching to him each step mixed with rage and pain.

"You're tired? Imagine what I've been feeling, Hajime!" You shout, volume picking up on your tone as this makes Iwaizumi stand up from the couch, not backing down at the power of your voice.

"Clingy? Needy? Pathetic? Tell me, does that sound any different to you?" He said it with so much disgust, strong enough to make you doubt everything you've fought for.

"So you don't give a fuck? Is that what you're so proud of, Iwaizumi? That you're so fucking insensitive?" He felt a tug on his heart when you called him that. It's been so long since he's heard you say it so- normal. As odd as it is, he couldn't hear his name the same again, especially when it came from you.

"Exactly! God I- Y/N. This is why-"

"WHAT IWAIZUMI!"

"This why I'm so fucking tired of you!" He shouted, not only did it create a barrier in your apartment, it brought up your past barrier that he broke down but now he's the cause of it to return.

"You're just- can you even make it on your own without me? It's like if I leave you'd- lose your shit! We need space!" He was fuming with confused anger as you feel your throat give out. You were shaking, your heart was too fast and unsteady, you weren't the same.

"But space is what you've been giving me! Coming home so late? Standing me up? You don't even fucking realize how many dates we missed!" He scoffs before running his fingers through his raven hair. Taking a step towards you, making you stand your ground as you tilt your head to meet with his empty eyes.

This isn't the man who could love you forever and ever after.

"So what! I've got so many things to do apart from dealing with your shit!" You stare back at him, weakened at how your heart couldn't handle it anymore.

You looked down, feeling the sting in your hands when your nails digged into the skin of your palm. He sits down on the couch, drained from the war full of shouting and the damage his heart was in.

Surprisingly, you sat beside him but there was such an intense distance between you.

He turns to you but chills ran up his spine when he sees how you look like you've agreed to everything he's said, making his eyes widen at the foreign feeling.

This is what he was scared of. Failing to find interest in the same routine, to find the energy to continue like he used to. Being worn out by how repetitive things were even when the love you both had was nowhere near boring.

In fact, it was exhilarating. You were both curious to try things together, that's what led you to even owning an apartment together, planning a future, even planning your marriage that was now a blur.

He trembled. Regret, anxiousness, exhaustion. He didn't expect himself to feel this way, especially to you, who he loved completely but felt a certain drift in his heart. He looks away from you as his eyes trail on the picture of you two. He couldn't hold it in his hands to look at how happy he looked, because he isn't the same anymore.

He's lost his way.

"D-did I..lack something?" She asks quietly. He gulps at her question. It was so heavy to him. How you asked him, questioning yourself in this relationship. With anxious hands, he wanted to reach out for you but his efforts were surpassed when he felt a wall between you and him.

"Am I worth.. to keep?"

Please, baby. He begs in his mind for you to stop. He couldn't register how he couldn't make himself speak. He was holding back too much, terrified that he was going to break you more and more with every word he'd toss to you.

"Then this is pointless isn't it?"

You both look at each other, both met with different expressions in your eyes. Iwaizumi could see how tired you were, how he knew you wouldn't be able to look at him the same way before, since he gave up first. While you can see how there wasn't a single lie in his eyes, the downfall was upon you.

No matter the space you give him, there can never be a spark to bring him back.

He bit his lip, facing the truth. Even he knew there isn't any other way.

"I know what you're gonna say, Hajime."

"Princess.. I'm sorry"

"Just go." It was impossible for him to follow your orders when all he wishes is to stay but then again, he's run out of reasons to.

"You gave up, Iwa!" Oikawa shouts, standing up to the boy. Iwaizumi lets his eyes wonder on the floor because he said nothing but the truth.

"There isn't anything I can-"

He's heard enough. You've asked Oikawa many heartbreaking questions. They were all unanswerable, and it pained him he couldn't give you at least one. He was in pain as much as you were. He hated how stupid Iwaizumi was for leaving you and choosing to cower away. He hated how you blamed yourself and slashing your heart because of Iwaizumi.

The tension has set fire to Oikawa and with years of loyalty between the two, Oikawa throws a heavy punch to Iwaizumi, disgusted of his actions.

Iwaizumi, completely at shocked at Oikawas punch, steps back a few times before his blood dropped on his fingers. Oikawa walks straight to Iwaizumi capturing his collar and pulling the boy upwards, nothing but rage consuming the setter.

"Did you love her then? Don't tell me this bullshit that you can't go back to her. Do you even wanna know what she asks me?" Iwaizumi removes Oikawas hands from his shirt, crumpling it in the process. Oikawa lets out a sarcastic laugh as he looks at Hajime.

"Ah, so you know how much shit you put her through? Then maybe you are an asshole but god- Iwa she loves you so much. If that isn't a good enough reason for you to talk to her, then I'll find somebody else for her." Oikawa threatens as Iwaizumi lets out a sob, nothing but regret that he hurt two of the most important people on his life.

"But what if it happens again?"

Iwaizumi asks, it was the only thing that held him back for returning into your arms. He isn't stable enough to return when the fear lingers in his head. What if he falls out of love? What if he gets tired again? Then you'll never want his presence again. He couldn't master up the courage because he too was scared of it.

He will not go through dozens of years just to be apart from you. He's already lost his mind to see you and Oikawa face the tragedy that he left you with. He felt nauseated with himself. How can he promise you forever when it was out of his grasp?

"Why don't you find out?"

It was a simple sentence that left Oikawas lips yet it brought Hajime to tears. It would've been that easy. If he didn't stay with his demons, then maybe you were here to offset his heart. After 2 years, isn't it too late to realize that he's never really ran out of love? It strengthened, but he was so afraid of battling with you like you did, hating how he was the man who shattered your overall being.

"Thank you, Oikawa."

He whispers as Oikawa takes a seat beside him, smiling that he brought the boy to realize the amount of time he's wasted by being surrounded by doubt. Oikawa pats the boys shoulder, sighing in relief that Iwaizumi was back.

"Always."

-

You swore to avoid your phone the entire day. As much as you wanted to apologize to Oikawa for the outburst, you just wanted a day of silence since your thoughts never give you the chance. Not only did you promise to avoid technology, you decided to avoid people as well, promising to yourself you'd rather stay inside in order to avoid the envy you had for other couples.

So here you are, tucked in your jacket, wrapped in your blanket waking up from a 4 hour nap. You yawned before squinting when you open your phone. It's 8pm and your stomach was nowhere near happy. Slowly standing up, you make your way to the kitchen opening the fridge seeing absolutely no hope to make a meal. Sighing lazily, you decided it'd be best to just buy some food.

After getting ready, you step out of your apartment as you drive to the place where you usually order. You admired how the moon lit your way. Opening your windows you smile when the cold whiff of air instantly surrounded your car. You loved the way your hair flew in the wind while you listened to the song playing.

Once you've finished your bought dinner, you decided to take a turn in your path. Now that it was late at night, you couldn't resist to visit a place you've been missing.

You take in a deep breath as you leaned on the metal bar, loving the way the view still took your breath away. You were face to face with the nightlights and the busy town below you. Not only was it stunning but it was a place to recall some of your favorite moments with him now that you were out of your comfortless of an apartment.

"Sorry for being late, Oikawa was an ass." Iwaizumi excuses himself as he stood beside you leaning on the rod, smiling once he takes in the lights. He turns to you before removing his jacket and placing it on your shoulders, a sweet gesture that had you blushing every time.

You couldn't refuse knowing he would've scolded you. Instead, you stood closer to him before leaning your head on his arm. With his hand, he interlaced his fingers with yours, as your heart flutters. He takes in your hand, placing a gentle kiss on it as you did the same with his hand making him twirl you in satisfaction. You giggle before landing on his chest as he leans down and places his warm hands to your cheeks as he leans in to take your lips with his.

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, reciprocating his kiss. He's given you hundreds of kisses before, how is this any different than the rest?

He pulls away, as your foreheads touch as you both painted a smile on your lips, feeling a slight tickle to it with how flustered you both were.

"I love you so much." He whispers, the first time he's ever let the three words slip from his mouth. Your hands make their way his hair, grabbing it lightly before nodding happily.

"I love you more, my Hajime."

Who knew that just by saying those three words, it was enough for you to believe in an ever after with him? Maybe you were wrong to fall for it even though he gave you a fragment of your so called forever.

You glanced beside you to see a vacant spot and you let out a disappointed sigh. You take in the sight of your fingers, missing the way it perfectly fit in his and how he held it with so much care, giving you an idea that he'd never let you go. Unfortunately he broke this bond but you still longed for his skin to be at contact with yours again.

You sat down placing your hand on the bench as you close your eyes leaning your back on it. You felt a shift of weight beside you, someone finally accompanying you in this lonely night but you've caught on the familiar scent of the stranger and you let the name slid off your tongue.

"Hajime."

He turns to you in shock that you knew it was him but you open your eyes, turning your head to be faced with the man you've been longing to see in two years. He looked the same, the same face who clouded your dreams. He was certainly your Hajime, the pretty boy you've adored since you were in high school.

Happy anniversary. You silently greet each other. How bittersweet, isn't it? What was meant to be your 6th year, turned into 2 years of avoiding each other.

And as you took in Iwaizumis appearance, he did the same with you. Loving the way your features clicked in his memory instantly. Was it even possible for you to be even more beautiful? To Iwaizumi, it was. He absolutely missed you, but why was his heart nervous?

What do I do? He asks himself. Small talk isn't what you deserved. God- you deserve so much more. Endless hours of talking, his embrace, his love, that's what you missed. He was willing to love you with everything he's got, now knowing he'll never run out of it because he isn't scared anymore.

"This isn't a dream is it?" You asked as you turn back to the sky counting the stars that was above you. He was glad you broke the silence, and he appreciated how there wasn't the same tension before. It felt so- serene and unique. Something he wishes it'd be a good sign for the both of you.

"I can't believe it either." He exclaims making you smile. You couldn't ask him how he's doing, not wanting to drag on a conversation you've waited years for to happen, you couldn't let it be bland and meaningless.

"We were something weren't we?" You asked with a soft smile. Iwaizumi chuckles beside you, as he sits closer to you. The cold air swirling around you two as well as the car noised filling in the comforting silence.

"God, I miss what that's like." Iwaizumi answers as you look at him. You looked down on the floor with tears appearing again, the same as Iwaizumi. You were both craving to hold each other but it didn't sit right to just rush into each other knowing there's so much to unpack.

Maybe it was a bit unexpected that you'd face him this way. Echoing through your ears was the conversation between you and Tooru about how the time never came. Now, you weren't even close to being prepared. You both imagined a proper conversation wherein you two would agree to meet up and talk things out. Yet subconsciously, you came to the same place at the same time not even knowing you'd meet. You lacked strength to bundle the words that you've always wanted to say to him and he felt the same way.

The last time you sat next to each other, that was when you parted. Now, back in the same position, it felt overwhelming. Seeing each other for the first time, both had you shocked and careful of your words. You wanted to scream how much you loved him, and he wanted to hold you in his arms to wash away the bleeding of your heart.

You loved how the universe made you two meet. It was quite painful that it had to be the place where you've shared so many memories with him. You didn't know if this was a blessing in disguise but you couldn't complain when the love of your life was here, beside you.

When he saw you, he felt like the sun shined above him like it did every morning. Where he had an angel to wake up next to, when he couldn't spot a single imperfection in your skin when the sun danced in your beauty.

And you've finally remembered the way his touch would bring you the assurance without words. His unexpected kisses, his sweet embrace, his smile that makes your heart run a marathon.

You're finally here. You both think, your hearts synced in how you've waited for this moment.

With your hand on the bench, he places his hand on top of yours, feeling like it was too fragile to hold but you didn't pull away. He takes in your features in the moonlight as his heart picks up the pace at the feeling that washes over him.

There isn't a barrier anymore.

Having the chance to hold your hand like this, he'll never take this for granted again. His everything, back in his touch, god how lucky he was. Remembering Oikawas words, one thing was clear to Iwaizumi, and that was the fact that he couldn't afford to have another hiccup in your relationship.

"We really fucked up this time." Iwaizumi comments making the both of you chuckle as he intertwines your hands with his, smiles on either your faces now that you've finally found the path to each other.

[cottoncandyjester]

Hey guys im sorry I haven't been posting, honestly tumblr is making it hard to. every single story I write tumblr crashes then deletes it so it's been HIGHLY frustrating...guess I need to invest in a laptop or a better phone

Sorry this was so long I always want the boys' back stories to be only 2 parts

This story contains: death, torture, abuse, toxic relationships, murder, violent themes

"you're too soft! They are sinners theodore why are you being so damn sensitive"

Theo winced at the punch his father landed which caused him to stumble back his back hitting the table which held their latest victim, a young woman that theo cleaned up and dressed in his mother's clothes, he didn't like the sight of her all bloody and mangled it made his heart sting.

Theo never helped to Kill any of these women, only cleaned them up and made sure they looked beautiful in death it was his way if asking for forgiveness.

When he was ten he idolized his father but it's been two years since he caught his father and been training under him to take his place and all that love vanished he found himself feeling nothing but hate and disgust for his father, what made matters worse was the fact that his mother had to take half the brunt of his father's anger.

"I won't do this anymore, you're wrong. Women aren't devils, mother is an angel and I wont hurt her"

Theo's harsh remark earned him yet another punch in the face this one knocking him down as he spat out blood the metallic taste making him sick to his stomach.

"you're a damn fool boy, I'll make you see her filth"

With that his father left him in the attic to starve for the night which was always a common occurrence. As he laid back on the floor the boy let out a dry chuckle.

"Just a little more...then you'll be the one burning in hell father"

Theodore felt everything go black and it wasn't long until he had passed out soon waking back up in bed with his mother caring for his wounds. He could smell her sweet perfume and hear her soft humming, something about those things made his heart flutter in the purest of ways.

"you should be careful theo, you know making him angrier will only result in pain"

"it's okay, we'll leave together one day..just me and you.."

There was silence after that and for a while things were okay, the family was quiet during dinner and once it got late theo figured his father would have went to bed forgiving him for his outburst in the morning.

Theo woke to the sound of two metal objects clashing together, the sound was enough to stir him awake though when he tried to move he realized he was tied up against a chair. That clashing noise he heard was his father sharpening a few knives, the sight made theo's blood run Cold.

"f-father?"

"god told abraham to kill his son, and abraham was about to do it like a loyal sheep. God will make you do awful things theodore and as a man we must do them"

Theo frantically struggled against the ropes binding him only feeling more and more stressed as his father stepped closer and closer thing soft steps of his shoes making theo feel like he had to puke.

What's going to happen to me?

Am I going to die?

Theo felt his father press the tip of the blade pressed softly against his forehead on the left side of his face, the cool metal only brought theo to reality more, his father was going to kill him cause god said so.

"i-i know we are nothing alike but please-"

"we are absolutely nothing alike! You are exactly like your mother a sissy little housewife! You were never going to be a good man or husband! When I asked God for a son I thought he would send me one I could be proud of!"

Rage fuelled theo, he wasnt sure why but something about what his father said made him want to scream, his father was wrong... absolutely wrong.

"I'll be a perfect husband, and a better Father than you"

As soon as he said those words theo felt the sharp pain of his father pushing the blade into his skin earning a sharp inhale of breath trying not to show too much weakness. Theo kept thinking about his mother and how in a way he was protecting her, their goal were to run away safely together.

"we might have one thing in common theodore, you have a devil in you just like me..it's time to show you just how tainted you are"

With that theo felt a harsh intense pain as his father dragged his blade along the boy's face earning screams coming from him as he thrashed and tried kicking but his father pressed his knee onto the boy's legs now carving his skin off in such a slow and unbearable way that it was driving theo crazy

"accept your sins theodore! This is your punishment for being unloyal!"

Theodore couldn't stop screaming as the knife raked down his face roughly cutting a large chunk of his skin clean off, the pain was so great he was close to fainting but his father came prepared and injected him with an adrenaline shot.

"p-please f-father please please please..."

Theodore at this point didnt know what he was begging for, maybe death? The overwhelming taste and smell of his own blood was making him sick and not to mention there was a lot of blood pouring down his face.

I'm dying.. god has forsaken me

"may you be reborn as a perfect child next time"

Theo kept his head down but felt a soft kiss on his head before hearing footsteps walk away from him before the door to the attic closed, his father left him to die!

Theo swayed side to side hoping to get free, if he could just get to his father's desk and grab a knife though without his glasses seeing things far away was near impossible though he could see the shape of the desk.

"mother needs me, I can't die.."

Theo grunted in pain as he fell forward which wasn't his plan but he'll take it, with every fiber of his being he crawled and scooted along the ground towards the desk before seeing a knife handle over the edge of the desk. Thankfully his legs were tied just his arms so with some embarrassing attempts to stand of even kneel before turning around to grab the knife with his hand.

Before he could cut himself free he heard banging on the attic door before a crash, the sound was enough to startle him into cutting the palm of his hand and dropping the knife

"argh! I-it hurts!"

Soon the attic door opened and rushing towards him was his loving mother, her frantic questions and worrying about him made him feel far better especially when she untied him from the chair.

"I'm leaving tonight theo, my fiancee is waiting for me outside"

"t-then let's go mother! Now is the perfect time to go!"

There was a tense silence after that as theo felt his mother bandage his wound up, his mother was hiding something and he didn't like it.

"w-we have a little girl and he's very protective of her and well with how your face looks now you'll scare her and I don't want to bring any baggage from my pa-"

Theodore felt as if his head was spinning, what was she saying? He did everything for her he almost died for this woman and she saw him as baggage to toss away before going to her new family.

"y-you're going to leave me here? J-just like that?! I protected you from him! I made sure he never hurt you! Were you ever going to bring me with you?!"

"keep your voice down theo, please calm down you're scaring me-"

"I'm scaring you?! I'm the one scaring you?! How could you?! I'm your child! I love you!"

He watched his mother look down shamefully and slowly back away clearly afraid of what will her next words do to him. Theodore was feeling a little unstable at the moment, his own mother just betrayed him can he truly trust no one in his life?

"your eyes just...look just like him. I can't theo I'm so sorry I can't it's too painful for me.. you're too much like him"

That was the thing that broke theo all together, it was like his brain just snapped and no clear thought came just pure anger and pain. How could she think that?! Theo thought he was nothing like his father absolutely nothing!

"no! I'm nothing like him! Nothing! He's abusive and a horrible man how could you say that!? I thought you loved me but you're just like him-yeah you're like him not me! I'm pure! A good person"

Theo couldn't stop himself, before he knew it he had grabbed the knife he dropped earlier, the large blade held tightly in his hand and scaring the one person he thought he can trust.

"w-why do you want to leave me? You're just embarrassed of me..you don't want me around cause you hate me"

"no no no baby I love you I just-"

Theo swung the knife slashing his mother's arm, hearing her cry out in pain made him only smile as he gazed at her fearful expression. His sense of reason was vanished and all he wanted now was to show everyone how much they hurt him

"maybe if you were a better mother I wouldn't have gotten hurt all the time, maybe if you weren't too busy being a good wife instead of a good mother I wouldn't be in such pain!"

"t-theo please I just-"

"why couldn't I just have a normal family?! I prayed for one! So why!?"

Theo slashed at his mother again and again over and over sloppily slashing at her without caring about where he aimed. He was far more focused on releasing all this pain and betrayal he felt

"why doesn't anyone want me?! Why don't you want me! I want you so what's wrong with me?! Why am I so broken?!"

Theo ignored the sobs and begging for her to stop, they were not processing clear enough to him he just wanted to hurt them to hurt them in ways they hurt him. Her thrashing soon stopped but it wasnt enough for theo, he moved ontop of her now raising the blade and slamming it down inside her chest his eyes glossed over as he did so.

"I'm not like him, I'm nothing like him! I'll be a good father! A good husband! I'll never abandon my family! Never! Never ! Never!"

The knife slipped I his hand and when he tried to catch it he grazed his hand before hearing the knife clatter onto the ground, theo panted heavily before looking at his hands seeing hands were lightly bruised from gripping the knife so hard, he then looked down at his mother and her horror stuck face.

"look at what father did, I told you we should have left before...it's okay I'll protect you"

Theo reached out taking the scarf his mother wore before putting it on himself before pressing it to his nose and taking a deep inhale, the sweet scent gave him shivers.

The sight of his dead mother made the boy tear up but he honestly didn't realize he was the one who had did such a thing, it was something he refused to accept. Now gripping the knife he once had before he creeped down the attic stairs each step more and more anxiety fuelling, from the quiet sounds it seemed like his father was asleep.

Theo had never acted out so violently than when he saw his father sleeping soundly in bed, once again much like before he had completely snapped now walking over and plunging the knife deep into his father's side earning a painted grunt along with his father's eyes to snap open

This caused theo to panic and he did the first thing he could think of which was to bite his victim's ear using that time to shove the blade into his father's chest before biting his ear off and spitting it onto the ground in a feral snarling mess.

"t-there's your demon... y-you're just like me"

"I'm nothing like you! Nothing!"

Theo gripped the knife blade shoving it deeper til it became stuck and his father stopped breathing, what struck theo as odd was the lack of struggling..didn't his father want to live? That escaped his mind as he tried wiggling the blade out of the corpse only to whine lightly at how stuck it was

"heavy, too heavy"

Theodore decided his next plan was to change out of his bloody clothes except for his scarf of course and to turn on the gas stove as high it can possibly go, he used his bedroom window to escape since his mother's boytoy was still waiting for her outside.

One match, it took one match to burn the place down starting the fire in his bedroom and letting it spread. A few minutes after theo jumped out the window the house roared to live now completely on fire.

Theodore only 12 years old had killed his parents and burned the place down, he had no one else to turn to no family or anything so he turned to his local church. They sent him to a boarding school where he grew up and found a passion for medicine as well as helping others.

His dark past always haunted him, he was known as the boy whose family died horrible deaths. There were always rumors about what happened that night some say that his father killed everyone before burning the place and stabbing himself others think that his mother's lover killed them all in an angry rage. Theo would always just shrug and laugh it off thanking God that he's alive

Those dark desires of having a family only grew as he grew older, it became a twisted obsession that festered stronger and stronger by the time he was 18 he was already waiting for marriage..after all a good husband waits for the perfect bride.

"theo? Hey theo? Hello earth to theo?"

Theodore snapped awake only to see his sweet darling staring at him worriedly, he must have fallen asleep in his office again. Theo simply smiled as he stood from his chair

"what's wrong?"

"well, dinner's ready have a good dream or something?"

Theo chuckled softly before running his fingers through his hair trying to come up with a suitable answer

"just dreaming about the past my angel, though I should focus on the future with you after all the past is the past..."

[mistaeq]

nijimura okuyasu: half and half

tw // hospital things at the beginning, angst, flesh bud

contains: have you ever wondered why is okuyasu's hair half black and half gray? and what about his facial scars? NO reader insert.

dora's note: this comes from my mind entirely. but i found this interesting, and i care a lot about it. i was scared of sharing it, but i think it's worth a read. i hope so. thank you in any case.

word count: 2.4k

"so, sir... what you're saying is that you have no clue of what happened to your baby?" the nurse asked. the adult held the older son's hand tighter, to prevent him from telling the lady what had gone down during the previous hours. he knew the child enough to imagine keicho wouldn't have stayed silent about it.

"not at all. i left the two of them in the kitchen and moved to my studio for a while. i heard screams and a loud cry, and when i went back to them, the little one was bleeding and... crying. i got so scared." listening to his old man's lies, five year old keicho left the place, running off of his father's grip, because he didn't even want to be touched by him. 

the man obviously made sure he had left the bloody ring at home, that one ring that originated two deep, symmetrical scars, the youngest nijimura would have never forgotten. and all nijimura mansaku could do about it, was lie, and say it was an accident. okuyasu, keicho's little brother, was in need of blood because of that injury, and it's meant to give you goosebumps, to know his only parent doesn't feel even remotely guilty about it. he's just ready to do anything in order to hide what really happened. in order to save himself over his baby.

the truth is, that not even dio himself ever trusted nijimura mansaku. it was clear from a mile away, that a man like him had no interest in the vampire's plan and intentions, rather than in the money he could earn from that alliance. that's why, to keep himself from being betrayed, dio brando made sure he gave him the flesh bud, a disgusting octopus-looking thing, that carried all of dio's will and dna. no wonder, the presence of that made his attitude as a father even worse than it was before. he was already used to hurting his sons, it more or less began when nijimura juuno, his wife and mother of his children, died. but the flesh bud worsened it, at the point that he didn't know when to stop.

at this point, both him and keicho had taken a blood exam to check the compatibility with okuyasu's body, and at the end of the day, the closest one was mansaku's one. how does it feel to save the son you almost killed with your own hands? how did you expect a three year old baby to endure that wrath? and the best part, is that all he could offer was dirty blood. dirtied by the flesh bud, dirtied by dio. but it's always better than nothing.

as he was running around the hospital after the blood exam's result, keicho looked for his little brother's room everywhere, and successfully climbed over a chair to take a better look inside of the room from the small window on the door. okuyasu was quiet. bandaged, connected to a bag, full of transparent liquid keicho couldn't quite identify. poor baby wasn't sleeping, his eyes were halfway closed. the blonde one blamed himself. that should have been him, not his little brother, he thought. if he could take the pain from okuyasu, he would have done that.

that was, until he felt the strong arms of a sweet nurse picking him up from the chair and putting him back on the floor. "be careful there, little one... who's your guardian?" oh keicho, he felt the impulse to go on and tell the lady that his father had lied. okuyasu's injury was no accident, rather domestic abuse. but all he could do was stare in the nurse's eyes. she looked like mom. she really looked like mom. the child pointed towards the door with his chubby finger. the sweet lady's breath gently hitched. "is that your brother? then your dad is looking for you. we'll take good care of him, he'll be fine."

so... it was okay, right? keicho trusted the sweet nurse. he even accepted to hold her hand as she guided him back to his father. and in his mind, when after a bunch of days of hospitalization, okuyasu was allowed to come back home, keicho thought the sweet lady had cured him directly. after such a concerningly narrow escape from guilt, mansaku didn't touch his sons for a week. it was the best week of the babies' lives. somehow.

"aniki..." the blonde's heart broke, everytime he heard that weak voice in his ears. he was combing okuyasu's hair, he always did. a lot of black, dark hair. the brothers were pure opposites. keicho's eyes were green, a really beautiful green, at it. they looked like two fresh apples. "...why won't these signs disappear...? i am ugly..."

okuyasu's eyes, on the contrary, were gray. as gray as a cloudy day, when it threatens to rain. and sometimes, it rained a lot in them. "they will disappear, eventually." keicho lied. "they're called scars. they make you look strong, not ugly." he knew what to say. it was a lot, for a six year old who had grown too fast. yes. six year old. he had his sixth birthday, during okuyasu's hospitalization. it wasn't celebrated. none of the children's birthday ever got celebrated, after juuno's death. but the biggest present had been the return of his little brother from the hospital, and it was more than enough.

"mama was b-beautiful." the little one mumbled with a short giggle. keicho moved a lock of his own golden hair away from his shoulder. he liked long hair. his father always forced him to keep it in a bun or in that weird hairstyle he used to have when mom was still alive. she used to style her son's hair with a braid when she had the chance, though. and keicho loved the braid too. "am i beautiful too?"

okuyasu's hair, on the contrary, was shorter, and pitch black. the elder brother liked to dip his hand in it, and it would just disappear in a dark cloud. "yes, of course you are." keicho's hair came from the fatherly part. mansaku's mother, the children's grandma, was blonde. on the contrary, okuyasu definitely looked more like mom. everyone on her family side was dark haired. and always tried to make others happy. keicho started to comb the younger's hair with his hands, and took the chance to check out the black again.

black on the front, black on the sides. black everywhere, every black hair around the house was okuyasu's. black were the eyebrows, black the eyelashes. the little locks of hair sprouting from the top of his head were black. the whole soft center of them was black, and just like the rest, his nape hair was... gold? no way. okuyasu was black haired, come on. keicho's hands trembled, as he touched those unusual locks. they were warm, and gave him negative feelings. but he couldn't quite understand how could it be possible. it didn't even look like human blonde. it was just... gold.

how do one's hair just turn blonde? nobody in history had ever had his hair to get blonde, no, gold, all of a sudden. nobody, right? right after that one operation, right after that one blood-giving thing. five year old keicho, smart but naïve, as kids are, just thought, that since father's family side was blonde, getting mansaku's blood could lead okuyasu to get blonde too. little did he know dio's dna was running around that blood because of the flesh bud on his dad's forehead. and that such a thing, injected in a three - almost four, in october - year old was no joke.

every morning since then, keicho would wake up in the middle of the night to go check on his little brother's new golden hair, and couldn't admit he was rather jealous, at this point. okuyasu's hair color was much brighter than his. soon, the pitch black cloud was gonna turn into a golden wind. that's how keicho was gonna call it.

the golden wind had started to spread more in okuyasu's nape, and reached the sides of his head as well. all that was left, was a bunch of black hair at the top. for a while, that one issue with the younger's hair had been an amusement for the both of them. "what if aaaaall of me turns gold?" the baby often asked, and keicho had an answer, under the form of "dad would sell you if you did, sweetie", but he never dared to really say that.

september came, okuyasu's birthday was always closer, and keicho waited for it patiently. every morning, he woke up earlier than usual, to comb his little brother's hair and get to school in time. on okuyasu's birthday, the kid couldn't help but notice the golden wind was a little paler than usual, but he'd just laugh it off with his little brother. "see? it's because you're turning old."

"but i-i'm... i'm not that old." god, okuyasu was an hilarious baby. and they laughed even more. now that they could. now that they had a reason to. because just a week later, their life would have been doomed.

keicho would have come back from school, he would have greeted his small sibling and caressed the golden wind with joy. add a prayer to make sure dad would have been used to hitting them less than he usually did. or better, not hit them at all, if possible. or at least, this is what he had planned. but he came back to an awful scene. the worst he could see. as soon as he opened the door, he was greeted with his little brother, crying right in front of him. for a second, he thought mansaku had beaten him again. "okuyasu!"

everytime he would beat them, before he stopped doing that after his little brother's operation, there was something weird about the man. like he hurt them without ever attacking. little did the children know, that he had a stand they couldn't see. "did dad hit you again?" he ran to okuyasu. "that scum!" but the little one kept saying no, and holding onto keicho as if something was scaring him to death. mansaku's screams could be heard from the other room, as if he was in pain. and it was looking down at okuyasu, that keicho noticed...

he didn't know what it meant. but dio had died. and with him, mansaku's flesh bud had gone berserk. and with that, okuyasu's golden wind became a gray cloud. dio was dead. it was over. the golden wind was over. "your hair..." keicho mumbled, caressing his little brother's hair. "what's happening..." he asked himself, as followed by the little one, he looked into the kitchen to see what was up with mansaku.

we all know what happened next. the man turned into a creature, not worthy of being called a man. the vampire had died, and the effect of his existance...

"...and the effect of his existance marked you for life."

the teenager's lips started trembling, as he pushed the tongue on his cheek's inside to prevent himself from crying. "okay, fine, it's a nightmare, after all. i'm gonna wake up in some minutes... and go to school... with josuke."

"i'm sorry, okuyasu." jotaro tightened his grip on the papers in his hands. the temperature in the nijimura household was dangerously cold, and the atmosphere caused by the topic they were talking to each other about was even worse. the marine biologist could swear the air was warmer, before he had finished explaining. "the foundation's been examinating all of your brother's childhood diaries. along with the testimonies josuke and koichi gave us about what your brother told them before his death."

"so, jotaro-san... i have these scars because the flesh bud made my father go mad." okuyasu stood up. "and i have this..." he pulled his hair in fury. "...this fucking hair because of dio's blood." jotaro started to feel not so much at ease. would have it been better for him to shut up about it? in josuke's opinion, it was the best choice. okuyasu deserved to know. "what is it, did that... scumbag mistake me for a customizable doll?" tears couldn't be held back anymore. kujo took his hat off.

"the hair thing happened to his son too. giorno giovanna, my... great grand uncle. but his hair changed from black to blonde when dio was dead, already. i think it's because it's a matter of parental genes, while you just had a direct injection of them when you were three, causing your body to react immediately."

"great granduncle..." okuyasu repeated, looking at the ground. "it's amazing you still have a great granduncle... and josuke is your uncle... you have your parents... and you have mr. joestar... and... a mrs. joestar, i believe...? and your daughter..." a couple of heavy tears fell on the ground from okuyasu's jaw. "you have such a big family, jotaro-san... i'm so jealous..."

how many families had dio destroyed? jotaro remembered of jonathan, even if they never met. jotaro risked seeing his mother die when he was seventeen. he witnessed friends die, when he was seventeen. and could, somehow, understand how would it feel for a teenager to lose his family. but maybe, he couldn't imagine how was it to come home to nobody. in his life, he used to come home to his mom and to his wife and daughter for a brief time. the kind of relationship he had with them is unrelated.

how does it feel to come home to nobody but a creature that barely remembers who you are? "josuke told me you would have probably said that." the marine biologist stood up, and in front of okuyasu's shocked gaze, he hugged the teenager. the younger one didn't even know what to do. did he have to hug back? did he have to stay still? he was hurting, but any kind of contact could make him melt. he trusted jotaro, he was a man to admire, in okuyasu's eyes.

"josuke told me so. and i agree with him, okuyasu. you're part of our family."

"family... t-thank you." the teenager finally hugged back.

he felt happy.

it was a painfully new sensation.

[yandere-wishes]

Yandere Reaction 💖Darling Signing A Contract With Azul💖

How would Yandere Leona, Carter, Jamil and Riddle react to their darling escaping and trying to sign a contract with Azul to reclaim their freedom.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leona is annoyed, he woke up from his nap to see that you had disappeared. Your side of the bed was cold, your sent barely clinging to the sheets. He sighs when he realizes that you must have left quite some time ago.  What a hassle now he's going to have to actually look around for you it's too much work! But the lingering promise of punishment does make a rabid excitement build up inside him causing his muscles twitch and ears to perk up. 

The first thing he does is call Ruggie and have him start asking around the, trying to pry information from the other member of his dorm. He'll also enlist Jack, giving him a piece of your clothes or some piece of jewelry he may have bought you, anything that has preserved your sweet, intoxicating aroma. Being the all so good, always eager to please guard dog that he is, Jack will follow your scent all over Night Raven College. With Leona lethargically following behind. 

eventually, the invisible trail leads them straight to the Octavinelle dormitory. Of course, Leona is displeased with this, not only is the place under freaking water! But the worst most calculating, conniving person lives there. The school's very own loanshark, Azul Ashengrotto! To say that Leona is displeased is an understatement, he's downright furious! What the hell are you try to do? Sign a freaking contract with the devil! Are you so desperate to trade away your goddam soul! Really it's not so much that Leona cares exactly what Azul asks from you, rather it's the notion that you'll belong to someone other than himself that makes hin charge inside the  Mostro Lounge. Claws out, teeth bare, ready for a fight. 

The sight awaiting him is just infuriating. There you are seating all meek pen in hand, eyes wide, fear and panic dancing over your face, like a  little doomed rabbit. While Azul looms over you, that calculating avaricious smirk plastered on his pale face. 

"Ah, senior Leona how nice of you to join us. Would you like some refreshments? Tea, coffee maybe some milk?"

Leona doesn't respond he's too agitated, too vexed. He runs up to your shacking form, grabbing your wrist, pulling you forcefully to his side. In the midst of the moment, he's calm having you back in his arms makes the carnivorous fury die down. He gently kisses your head, lingering a second too long before he's throwing you over to Jack. 

He's in Azul's face, threatening to skin him alive and throw him to the hyenas to eat if he ever even think about scamming Leona's beloved into another contract. He rips the parchment in front of the sea witch then processes to march back to where you and your wolf bodyguard are standing. 

Leona's a lot rougher now, squishing you to his side as the three of you depart back to your "home". Leona just can't comprehend why you would sign that contract. 

He's never done anything to hurt you

He's never 

so why? Why are you so desperate to get away from him?! It downs on him when he's dragged you back into savanclaw territory. In the middle of his rage, he realizes just why you're all so eager to reclaim your precious freedom. You're lying on the cracked rough ground, holding your bleeding cheek where he just struck you. You're crying and trembling, it almost makes him want to stop, almost makes him want to hug you close to his chest promising everything will be all right. But he doesn't instead he kicks you with enough force to turn you over onto your back. He lifts his foot crushing down on your arm. Relishing in the cracking of bones and your screams of pain. 

Leona's reaction differs from moment to moment, one second he's simply annoyed and the next he's choking on his rage. He knows that he has to change a bit, to be sweeter, nicer to show a bit more empathy if he truly wants to keep you as his queen.  

Carter's in a sheer frenzy, he's stunned speechless when he sees you walk over to the Mostro Lounge manager. But instead of ordering drinks like you were supposed to do, you're chatting up Azul about something that he can't hear. 

It's nervewracking watching the two of you. Carter can't quite tell what expression you're wearing but he knows that the Azul is giddy about something, smiling and laughing. Oh god, what are you talking about! It's only when he sees Azul retrieve parchment and his signature golden fish pen that he realizes just what is happening. 

Carter is quick to react, he's sprung to his feet and by your side before your fingers can even graze the murky colored contract. His arms are wrapped protectively around you, squeezing with just an ounce more force then they need to be. His shimmering emerald eyes are glaring daggers at Azul, but his tone is as cheerful and preppy as always.

"Azul-chan you know it's rude to take advantage of naive first years right?~ innocent little (y/n) doesn't understand how your contracts operate yet~"

"Actually they do Carter, tell me what in the great sea witch's name have you done to poor unfortunate (Y/N), for them to be so desperate to get away from you? So much so, that they are willing to trade they're special ability for?"

That hurt...

It felt worst than a kick to the stomach...

Worst then when his pictures only got 100 likes...

worst then Riddle's loud screams...

You...You were trying to run away from him? Carter's heartbroken, he can't stand the thought of you not loving him. Heck, you hate him so much that you're willing to trade away your ability to be apart from him!

Once you get back to Heartslabyul, he's hectic. Shacking you with tears in his eyes, demanding to know why you don't love him! "What have I done wrong? Do you love someone else is that it!" He makes accusation after accusation trying to find out just why you're desperate to be rid of him. 

Never once does he consider that it could be because his presence suffocates you. That simply standing next to him, strips your lungs of air, drives your brain into a historical fit! And you don't tell in fear of further angering him. 

Carter's reaction is heartbroken mania, he's sad, angry, determined to fix things, everything at the same time. He'll try all so hard to mend things between the two of you. Shower you in gifts, take you outside more often, even give you some more freedom. ANYTHING as long as you will love him again!

Jamil actually finds it rather funny when you try to beg Azul for a contract. Oh, sure he knew what you would do the moment he saw you slip away from his side while he was preoccupied with Kalim. He knew you would run straight to the sea witch, ready to get on your knees and plead for a contract. You were willing to humiliate yourself in any way imaginable so long as you could escape Jamil's clutch.

Jamil's eyes follow you as you walk over the counter and whisper something in Jade's ear. He knows everything that's about to unfold. Knows how Azul will bring out some parchment and his golden pen and "nicely" state the terms of service. He knows all this yet chooses to sit idly by. He wants you to get as close to your freedom as possible, practically graze it before he snatches it away for good this time. Cause after the stunt you're pulling there is no way in hell that Jamil is ever letting you leave the Scarabia dormitory ever again.

And sure enough, it goes exactly as planned. Azul walks out ready to grant you "your one true wish" all posed and gentleman like...except he's leaning way to close. His lips are brushing against your ear. His thin pale fingers are reaching out to grab your own pulling them towards himself. 

It's that moment that Jamil reacts, that he realizes that you've played your little game long enough. He slams his hands on the table, causing Kalim to jump spilling his drink and the other customers to turn around all holding their breaths for a magic fight to break out. 

Just like everyone else Azul slowly pulls away from you, eyes trained on Jamil a smirk dangling on his charming face. Your vacant eyes stare back into the dark ones of the sand mage. You know your fate, know the penalty for the crim you commented. Despite what Jamil may think he knows, you were always one fragmented step ahead. You knew you would never be free, knew that you would always be confined in Jamil's cave of wonders.

Reluctantly you heave yourself to your feet, breaking the thick silence with the screeching of the chair legs along the marble floor. You gradually trudge back to the table where the man who owns you is awaiting impatiently. 

"Don't test me (y/n)" 

His lips brush over the shell of your ear sending a cold shiver up your spin. His breath cresses the soft flesh of your neck as he places a teasing kiss over one of the visible love bites he left not so long ago. Jamil's fingers dig into your sides, sizing you up as tightly as he could. You where sure there would be bruises by the time he let go, there always was. Slowly his fingers snaked around your waist pushing you flat against his chest, smoldering your face in the fabric of his shirt. 

"That goes for you too Azul" 

His voice was oddly modulated, kept barely above a hush, you wonder how he expects Azul to be able to hear from across the room. It's a  haughty laugh that answers your question. The voice is much closer then you anticipated. Silk covered fingers tangle themselves in your lock as you hear the manger of the  Mostro Lounge speak up. "You may consider keeping sweet little (y/n) on a shorter lease, that way she won't accidentally find her self trapped in my grasp."

Suffice it to say he does, Jamil grants the exact opposite of your wish. He steals the minuscule fragments of freedom you had left, keeping you constantly by his side, arms always wrapped around your waist tight enough to make walking an uncomfortable feat.

Jamil's reaction is one just amusement, sure he feels betrayed but that feeling has long become nostalgic for the young man. There really isn't much you could say or do to get under his skin. But there is all so much he can do to get under your skin and he'll be dame sure to leave some marks! 

Riddle is furious when he sees you talking to Azul before history class. His blood is boiling coursing through his body like molten lava, heartbeat had quickened sounding like the march of card soldiers faster! His fingers are wrapped in fists by his side, knuckles turning as white as the white rabbit's fur. His posture is stiff, spin too straight shoulders pulled back until they're about to pop from their sockets. 

The redhead could barely stand the thought of you talking to his closets friends let alone the most conniving man in all of Night Raven! He's prepared to shut the whole thing down in a moment, ready to stomp over to Azul and rescue you from his web of lies. But then he hears it, those soul-shattering words. They stop him in his tracks, steal the life from his loins. He couldn't even believe his ear at first. Surely he was going mad! 

" I want to be free, as far away from Riddle and his stupid rules as possible! Please Mr. Ashengrotto won't you help me! I'll sign any contract, give you anything you deem a suitable price just please save me from Riddle!"

Riddle's heart is broken tears prick at the side of his dark blue eyes. Ready to tumble and fall. His mouth has gone dry stripped of all he was going to say. He wasn't your knight in shining armor no he was the beast that had abducted you, stolen you from those you loved. 

"Not to worry you poor unfortunate soul lose of freedom as a situation can be corrected, I simply need you to sign--"

Maybe it was the was what Azul said, made it was the adrenaline that was surging through his veins. Either way, Riddle screamed his voice cracking, lungs burning, yet he still screamed after you to stop! 

"Don't you dare sign that contract (y/n) Or it'll be off with your head!"

Your freeze finger floating in midair just millimeters away from the golden pen.  A heavy sigh leaves your lips, you knew you would never reach your freedom again but still, you tried and ended up with a broken heart. 

Riddle is quick to jog over to the two of you, his fingers grab your shoulder and push you back against his chest. He's trying so hard to look strong, to be the knight that you deserve. He doesn't want to show any weakness in front of Azul but he just can't wipe the heartache away. 

Riddle really wants you to love him, he's delusional thinking that making you follow all these rules will benefit you in the long run. He wants you to be safe and perfect to be a fit ruler by his side! But he also wants you to be happy and fall for him on your own accord. 

Riddle's reaction is pure heartache and heartbreak. He doesn't punish you, just some empty threats and words of advice (in the tone off ear-splitting shouts) The whole affair may actually make him nicer he'll try to give you a bit more freedom. He lets you outside more, sometimes even takes you somewhere off-campus. Sure he's always around in some way but from time to time he may "wander off" in the opposite direction and give you the relaxing semblance of being alone.

[tirednerd2012]

I thought of a way Kirk could feasibly appear in EIGTBO. Suppose his mom kicks out his dad when he's younger, but he still grows up to be violent and sadistic, so she's finally forced to kick him out too and forbids him from seeing Luke. Luke and Ian and some other kids play together when Kirk shows up planning to kidnap Luke. Barley's able to save him, but Kirk takes Ian in retaliation. Later he offers Barley an ultimatum: bring Luke to him, or he'll never see Ian again.

So, Imma try this. Luke and Ian are both, let's say 8 at this time because Jenny and Leo will be featured in the story, but Jenny and Barley won't be engaged or anything. Since there is so much trauma, this will be broken up and explored more as Ian and Barley get some much needed therapy. Also the beginning will have another story because this was going to be a great day for the brothers and I need fluff later.

Barley heard a child crying and someone dragging the kid by their arm. The kid desperately tried to get free. His mind went to worst case. A playground. A bunch of kids. This was an attempted kidnapping.

He didn't hesitate to rock that guy's shit and then call the police.

Turns out the guy, Kirk Jones, had a restraining order against him from his little brother, the boy, Luke. The police promised Barley that the mother would be called and that would be that. He took Ian's hand and left because he couldn't stop shaking.

Barley had a splitting headache the next week. He could hardly keep his eyes open and even the sound of Leo and Ian playing quietly in the next room made it feel like his head was about to bust open.

"Barley," Jenny said and kissed the top of his head, "I can take the boys out to the park or something. You get some sleep. You've been working a lot and probably just tired."

He forced himself to make eye contact with her, even though the room felt too bright. He nodded and she kissed him again.

"Get some sleep," she said softly and he laid back down on his bed. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

A few minutes later he heard his bedroom door creak open. He opened his eyes again and saw Ian with a glass of water. His little brother placed it on his bedside table.

He looked over apologetically as he saw Barley awake.

"I- um, you always bring me water when I'm not feeling good," he said and Barley chuckled, forcing himself to ignore his migraine and ruffled his brother's hair and then kissed the top of his head.

"Thanks, bud, go have fun. I love you."

"I love you, too," Ian said and then gave Barley a quick hug before leaving. The moment Barley put his head on the pillow, he was out.

Until he woke up to the worst call of his life.

"Barley? Barley, I need you get to the police station. Now," Jenny said. Barley could hear the panic and sobbing in her voice and his heart stopped. He jumped up from the bed and immediately grabbed his keys.

"Jen? What's wrong? Are you okay? Are the boys?"

She sobbed harder.

"Someone just attacked us. He grabbed me from behind by my hair and the boys tried to help but-" she cried more and Barley felt the tears forming in his eyes as he got out to his van and immediately started it up.

"Jen, what happened?"

"He took Ian. Barley, he took him and I don't even know where we are and Leo is hurt and won't wake up and Barley, you need to get to the police station. Now. Some officers tracked my phone and are coming now. Oh God."

"Jen, listen to me," Barley said, trying to keep his voice steady but his mind kept repeating everything to him. Ian was gone. Ian was missing. Leo and Jen are hurt and they didn't know where they were. Ian was gone. Dear God Ian was gone.

"Barley."

"I'm on my way to the station. Did you get a look at the guy?" he asked.

The next few days would be the worst of his life, yet they blurred together. Each dragged on and he felt like he was going to die. He'd rather have died than felt the pain he felt those next few days.

Ian tried to move out of the cage, but the older boy who smelled like alcohol was scaring him. He paced back and forth around the cage, occasionally screaming and then kicking it.

Ian's crying annoyed the boy apparently.

"Just stop! He's not coming!" the boy yelled. "Your brother isn't coming and even if he does, I'm going to kill him."

"Barley is coming for me! And I'd hate to be you when he gets here!" Ian snapped and the guy opened the cage and yanked Ian up. He didn't hit him, just yanked him hard and forced him close. Ian winced at the stench of rum.

"Then where is he? You've been here a day, kid. And he's not here."

"He's looking."

"No, he ain't. Because he doesn't give a shit about you," the boy said and Ian felt his stomach turn at that idea, but he knew that wasn't true. Barley would never give up on him.

"You wouldn't come for your little brother?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because my little brother decided to stay with my mom. He turned his back on me. He's better off dead than with that woman," the boy snapped as he threw Ian on the ground, but didn't do anything else. He played with the knife in his hands and Ian wanted to run, but the boy was right in between him and the door.

Barley, please, hurry.

"Then why do you care about seeing him again?"

"Because he needs discipline in his life and she's not going to give it to him."

"What does that have to do with Barley?" Ian asked and the boy knelt down beside him.

"Because your brother doesn't understand his role in life and he needs to learn to mind his own business."

Two days. It had been two days and no one could find Ian. Kirk was off somewhere no one knew about. The police were doing the bare minimum to help and Barley couldn't think straight.

His foot was on the gas pedal as he drove, nowhere in particular, because being on the road was better than being home. It was better than Ian's empty bedroom and the silence. It was better than hearing Jenny cry and not having the strength to provide her comfort. It was better than watching Frank drink.

Everything was falling apart and Barley kept running over and over in his head that it had been two damn days since he last saw his brother. Last heard his laugh. Played with him.

Ian was gone. And had Barley been there, he could have saved him.

Barley was so lost in his mind he didn't notice when a unicorn jumped onto the road. He slammed his brakes, almost flipping his car over and the case file the police gave him flew everywhere and the phone book dropped on the floor.

He didn't wrap his head around the experience at all.

He looked at the piece of paper then looked in the phonebook. Only one Jones surprisingly. Rebecca Jones.

And it had an address. Barley took a deep breath, said a quick prayer, then was gone. He wasted no time going to a random stranger's house.

A woman opened the door. She was about a foot shorter than Barley, with hair longer than Jenny's, but she looked to be in her 40s.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Barley took a deep breath and went over his entire situation, from her son, Kirk, to helping Luke, to his girlfriend being attacked, to his little brother missing.

And she stood there. What's worse is she didn't seem particularly surprised, but terrified. She shook as Barley continued.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

"He has my brother," Barley said and Mrs. Jones stopped and didn't close the door. "He has my little brother. Ian. He's 8 and he's probably hurt and crying out for me right now. Please. Whatever you know. My little brother is my absolute everything. I'm not going to take your son, I'll face Kirk myself, but please. I need to know where to go."

"The little boy he took is your brother?"

"Yes. He's the only family I have left. I've been raising him for three years. He's everything to me and I'll do whatever it takes to get him back," Barley felt the tears sting his eyes, "I feel like I'm losing my mind. I just want him home and safe. I want to hear him playing upstairs in his room or sitting with me on the couch. I miss tucking him in every night."

"How long has Kirk had him?"

"Two days now. I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't stopped searching. I found your name in the phone book and took a chance. I have nothing left to lose, please," Barley begged. The woman studied him for a moment, and then he heard another voice. A child's voice.

"Mommy? Where's- hey, you're the guy from the other day!" Luke said as he saw Barley. Barley could normally push all of his problems away and smile in front of children, no matter what he was feeling. But looking at Luke broke him even more. The kid had the exact same eyes as his precious little brother.

"Sweetie, go back inside, please," Mrs. Jones said and then looked back up at Barley. "My son is dangerous. I tried so hard to save him. His father used to beat him and then twisted his mind. I don't think he'll ever be able to tell wrong from right."

"And I'm sorry about that, but someone you just admitted is dangerous has a kid right now. You're terrified of him seeing Luke again, and I understand that, but he has my kid right now. Please, I won't tell him anything. I'll even help you and Luke, but I need Ian back. Please."

"His father used to own a house on the other side of town. I'll write down the address for you," she said and invited him inside. Barley walked in and saw Luke on the couch. The young boy tilted his head in curiosity at Barley while his mother went to grab a piece of paper.

"Hey, mister, what's your name?"

"Barley," he answered.

"Thanks for your help the other day. My big brother is really mean and..." his voice trailed off for a moment, "I'm glad I didn't go with him. Sometimes I think he still loves me, but then he gets mad and he hits me. Or he drinks something and gets really angry."

"Luke, I know he's your brother, but family can be so many different things," Barley said. "And you are a great kid who didn't deserve that treatment. Mrs. Jones came back in with a piece of paper and Barley looked at Luke one more time before leaving.

He wasted no time getting to his little brother. He drove as fast as he could and 10 minutes later, he was at the house. He called the police and went inside.

He heard yelling and glass shattering. Then Ian crying.

Ian.

Barley broke the door open and immediately his eyes locked with Kirk.

"Barley!" Ian cried out. Before Barley could do anything, Kirk charged. He was stronger than Barley anticipated and they both got knocked into a nearby bookshelf. It broke at their combined weight and the fight continued.

Barley busted Kirk's head against the wall, but he must have been used to it because it had zero effect on him, which was slightly concerning but there were more pressing matters.

Ian cried out for Barley to watch out and then Kirk picked up a nearby glass bottle of whiskey and hit Barley with it. Hard.

His vision blurred, but he could see the flash of silver from a knife, heading right towards him.

"Barley! No!" Barley couldn't comprehend what happened next.

Kirk went in with his knife, he heard Ian scream and then an explosion that threw Kirk away from him, yet he was unharmed. Not a touch. He spun around and saw his little brother with tears pouring down his already tear-stained cheeks, desperately trying to get out of the dragon cage. He was also unhurt. The only person that seemed to get injured was Kirk.

The police busted in just as Kirk forced himself up with a groan and then looked at Ian.

"How did he- no, something's up with that kid!" he said as two officers grabbed him and handcuffed him. Then his eyes locked on Barley with a glare and a deadly promise laced as his pupils focused in on the other man. "You're going to pay for this, you bastard! That kid has something and I'll get it!"

The officers dragged him away and Barley got Ian out of the cage and his brother jumped in his arms and buried his head into Barley's chest and sobbed.

"Ian, oh thank God. It's okay. You're safe. It's okay," he said over and over again and kept apologizing. He kissed the top of Ian's head multiple times and refused to let the child go. "I love you so, so much, kiddo."

His mind went back to the explosion and he wondered how Ian did do that. Ian screamed and Kirk flew back, but how?

Ian curled into his chest further and his thoughts went back to what the last few days had felt like. Not knowing if he was ever going to see his little brother again. Searching and worrying. Crying. Almost crashing his van because the idea of never seeing his little brother again, his entire world, made him want to die. Jenny and Leo crying. Frank on the phone with the police.

He couldn't explain what Ian just did, but Ian was there. He was in Barley's arms and his older brother would never let him go again.

"I love you so, so much, bud. I'm never letting anything take you from me again."

[comfortablesilencebk]

CHAPTER 03

„Looks like you got some help, Eraserhead,“ says the man with a smoky voice, as he comes closer towards Y/N.

Stay calm! She reminds herself and looks back at the man in front of her. Y/N takes one last look around, to make sure no one is watching, before she twists her fingers. She feels the rotten hands tighten around his neck and the hot breath of past ghosts on hers. The dark liquid springing from her spine slowly taking over her limbs.

„Call that thing back,“ she demands him and points at the beast, which is still holding Aizawa captive. She tries her best to sound calm and confident but the sight of her teachers gives her the chills. His elbow seems injured and there is just so much blood.

The man stops and lets out a gasp, trying to pull away the hands around his neck that are slowly choking him but it’s for nothing. Y/N has them under her control. He croaks something she can’t understand and before she can even react, has the beast grabbed her by the throat and pinned down to the floor. Head and shoulders crashing on the floor, spreading the pain in her whole body and pressing the last bit of air out.

Y/N squints her eyes and holds her breath. The pain in her back and chest are hardly bearable and she has difficulties keeping herself conscious, let alone keeping the hands under her control and so she lets go of them, trying to keep her torso from breaking. The monster probably broke her shoulder, if not more. Her head spins again and if she could breathe she’d scream out of frustration and curse him into the darkest pits of hell.

„Tomura Shigaraki.“

Y/N clenches her jaw as the dark smoke appears out of nowhere. If she could only reach out for the hands or at least the spine, so she wouldn’t feel so defenseless and weak. She doesn’t want to die like that! How cruel do the gods have to be to give her a real life and then let her die under a disgusting creature. This surely has to be a joke!

„One of the students got out of the facility. Heroes are probably on their way here.“

A whimper escapes her throat. Keigo. She doesn’t even notice how a tear runs down her face. By now he’s probably heard about the attack, which is why her phone won’t stop ringing, but even he’s not fast enough to get here in time. She doesn’t want to hope he'll arrive quickly enough to save them, she learned that years ago…but dear god everything in her body hurts. Her mouth tastes like iron and black dots dance around her eyes.“You know this is your destiny,“ whispers the dark voice into her ear.

„There is no way we can win, if dozens of pros show up.“

The man, Tomura Shigaraki, keeps talking but Y/N doesn’t listen. She only opens her eyes, as the pressure on her body disappears, letting her gasp for air. The beast stepped back and lets him get closer to her. Shigaraki’s standing right above her and she can’t do anything except to hold her breath. Her body is paralyzed, not only from pain but also fear. She has to admit, she didn’t though that’s how her live would end. She didn’t even except to survive this long.

„This is what you get for believing someone will save you.“ Says the quiet little voice in the back of her mind as his hand touches her forehead. She saw what he did with Aizawa‘s arm and can only hope it won’t hurt that much.

„You really are so cool.“

Y/N opens her eyes in an instant. She’s not dead or partly dust, she realizes. Her eyes follow the man where they meet Aizawa, who’s staring at Shigaraki with his glowing eyes. Behind him, above the stairs, small explosions and screams are perceptible. Bakugou. He’d probably laugh at the voice and tell her to fuck off. Yell because she’s stupid enough to believe a voice that has been wrong so many times. Tell her that he’d never lose to such a weak basdart. Y/N can see his face and anger floods her veins. What does he even know? She has survived worse than this bony son of a bitch! She won’t give the universe the satisfaction of dying under a brain dead monster, like a helpless girl. They’ll have to free Hades to bring her down to her knees.

Y/N let’s out an annoyed scream and kicks Shigaraki away from her, while trying to get on her feet before that beast attacks again. Her left shoulder blade is broken, just like her femur, she notes and steps closer.

„I’ll break you.“ Her voice is calm again and so cold, it reminds her of the men back then. They had no scruple but neither does she. She hesitated earlier, but now she doesn’t waste a thought and pulls the hands tighter around Shigaraki‘s neck. She watches him gasp for air again and falls on his knees, as she breaks his calf bones, ignoring the loud noise in the background. This is for trying to take my life, she thinks. She loosens the hands, letting him catch a breath before bending his rips to the inside.“That’s for Aizawa-Sensei,“ she murmurs and pulls him back on his feet by his throat. Tearing out his teeth comes next, she thinks. Y/N doesn’t need a reason anymore for anger has taken over her mind. The liquid has numbend her mind and senses.

Right when she leans in to step closer, someone grabs her again and snaps her back into reality. Her eyes widen at the realization, what she almost did. What she wanted to do.

„Get back to the entrance and take Aizawa with you.“

The moving finally stops and Y/N sees All Might standing in front of her, shielding them for Shigaraki and the others. Tsu and Mineta standing next to her, their eyes switching from Aizawa to her and back. Y/N only keeps staring into the void. Where did these thoughts come from? What hero would ever do such a thing? Did someone see her? Only then she raises her eyes from the ground and fall immediately on their teacher, pulling her back into reality. Now is not the time to worry about something that can’t be changed. They’re still under attack.

The man lays on the ground, unconscious and injured. His arms and some rips are broken but his elbow is completely shattered. Y/N steps closer, falling onto her knees. At this point, she doesn’t even care if someone sees her and lays her hand on her shoulder. A quiet whimper escapes her lips as the bones move back into their original place. As the pain slowly starts fading into a background noise, she leans over Aizawa to let her hand hover over his elbow. By the time she sets the bones back, where they belong, is her hand shaking and turning grey. Much more and she’ll start breaking like fragile ice under the warm sun.

„Y/N“

The girl flinches as someone touches her shoulder, only to realize it’s Tsu. Her classmates are standing right next to her, looking confused and worried, maybe even scared. “Are you alright? Your skin is very pale.“

„I’m fine, but you have to get Aizawa-Sensei out,“ she answers and stands up. The spinning in her head is finally slowing down and she can move all of her limbs. Her eyes wander over the place, looking for AllMight, the beast or even Bakugou. Somehow her eyes fall to the whole in the roof and her heart feels lighter as she sees two wings fly under the sun. Keigo. That’s where she has to go, to find Shigaraki.

„What about you?“ asks Mineta and carefully picks up Eraserhead‘s legs.

„Gotta find the others.“

The whole place might be pure chaos but Y/N can still feel the countless hands. This time she won't make any mistakes. She keeps running towards the mess, as the wings appear in the corner of her eye again, closer but pitchblack and for a moment everything starts spinning again. But after a blink they were gone again. The girl freezes and keeps staring at the dot where it happened. She never thought, she’d see it ever again and yet there it was. A flew dark feathers slowly falling in the air. Could this be happening? If it’s real, she should have noticed it earlier. Maybe her brain is playing games with her? But why would it? Maybe a concussion?

No, it’s not real! She thinks to herself and closes her eyes for a second. She has more important things to do and think about the ghosts of the past.

Following Bakugou‘s yelling, she finds All Might and her classmates quickly. The symbol of peace is rough up and covered in smoke, while Bakugou and the others are surrounded by villains. An image no one would forget this easily.“What the hell are you doing here, extra?!“ Bakugou screams, while kicking one of the villains towards her, so she can chain him down to the ground. A move that looks smooth and natural like they’ve done it a thousand times.“Don’t look at her!“ he reminds himself because he knows otherwise her sight would let him forget the world again. For the look on her face has enough power over him that he wouldn’t even notice how the villains are taking his body apart.

„You told me to kill that bastard and I’m not done yet!“ she murmurs to Bakugou with a choky smile, who’s still standing next to her and watching the scene. All Might took out the beast but he’s probably too weak to fight the two other freaks at once.

„You kiddos really don’t talk like heroes, huh?“ Y/N freezes as a red feather passes by her head into the black smoke that’s shielding Shigaraki. She turns around to see dozens of them flying around the air and attacking villains. She lowers her hands and turns her head to check if she might see him but only knowing he’s here makes it easier to breathe.

„That’s Hawks!“ Kirishima, standing nearby points at the man, who’s flying towards them. He lands a few feet away from them and Y/N could start crying out of relief. Hawks and most of the teachers from U.A have entered USJ. The villains take this as a signal to leave but most of them get captured.

„You did a great job, I’m proud of you, but now you have to get out. Some of you are injured and need a doctor.“ His voice is calm and professional. A gentle look lays on his face but he can’t bring himself to stop looking over at Y/N as she walks out, upheld by some of her classmates. He’s furious that these guys escaped but he also just wants to wrap his wings around Y/N until she forgets this day even happened.

Y/N doesn’t remember how she got to the hospital or how she talked to the police officers. Her body stopped producing adrenaline the moment they stepped outside and the spinning came back, which made her pass out a few times.

Hours have passed until she finally wakes up, covered in cold sweat and nausea, haunted by memories she buried long ago. She looks around and recognizes the hospital room. It’s dark, the digital clock in the wall reads 04:27 and there are three other beds in the room. Right next to her bed, on her left, stands a chair and Kanai’s sleeping in it. He’s still wearing his doctor’s coat and has crossed his arms, his head hanging to the side. She looks down on herself, to find a few bruises on her skin and a small red feather lying in her hand. Y/N takes a deep breath but starts coughing immediately due to the pain in her chest.

„Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. Slowly.“ It takes Kanai barely a second to jump up and reach for a glass of water, causing Y/N to question if he was even asleep. Sometimes she wonders if it’s because he’s a doctor or just because of the years he spent with them.

„Better?“ he asks with a soft look in his eyes, as the girl calms down and leans back. Y/N nods, her head pounding, and looks over to the other bed. Someone is sleeping in them but she can’t see who and if they’re hurt or not.

,,Momo Yaoyoruzo, Mina Ashido and Ochako Uraraka. They are fine, just a few bruises. The rest of your class is also here. No one was seriously hurt but they demanded that you stay here overnight. Keigo was also here but had to go. He’ll probably visit tomorrow morning.“

Kanai might not have a quirk but sometimes Y/N thinks he has a sixth sense. As if he knows what someone is thinking or doing and whatever he does it’s always flawless. He’s kind and caring and loving. And this scares her sometimes. Not he in particular but how easy it is to get attached to him. How easily he lets you feel loved. He took her in, after only a few days of knowing each other, threatens her with respect and has done more for her than she could ever pay back. Y/N would like to think of him as her older brother -maybe even a father figure- but there is still this voice in her head. Counting all the things she did or didn’t do or said, that would make him leave. She has accepted the fact that he’s going to leave her -everyone will at some point- and now she just waits for the day to come and tries not to get too attached. Every day she waits. In and out. Until she has reached the limit that keeps her tolerable. Until they don’t want her around anymore and leave or even send her away.

„How are you feeling?“ he asks with a soft voice and takes her cold hand into his. He’s trying to smile but he isn’t as good as he thinks in hiding his emotions. The restless night and worries are consuming all his energy.

„Fine but my head hurts,“ she replies quietly and considers pulling her hand back but it would only make him worry or upset. Her mind runs faster the longer he holds her hand and when he finally lets go of her to stand up, she holds back a gasp. Her fingers twitch from the urge to scratch her skin until it bleeds.

Breathe in and out. In and out. Y/N counts her breaths, while Kanai gives her painkillers. “You should sleep again. I’ll come back in the morning to check on you. If you need anything, just call for me, Dove?“ He smiles at her and Y/N smiles back, trying not to suffocate and throw up at the same time. “Okay.“

Y/N doesn’t even wait a moment after he leaves the room and stumbles straight to the bathroom. Spending the next half an hour throwing up and crying in silence. It’s been years. Goddamn years and she still freaks out after a little incident. She cries out of frustration and the fact that she‘s crying makes her cry even harder. She has to be crazy, Y/N thinks. Her head surely is hurting. It took her so long to become “normal“ but right now she feels like everything she had accomplished slipped through her fingers. On good days she doesn’t even mind Sero putting his arm around her shoulder while they walk through the hallway or Momo‘s hugs but on bad days she can’t even stand Keigo’s hug. She spends the next 10 minutes scrubbing her skin with burning hot water until her arms are sensitive and red. Until her skin burns brighter than the memories.

Back in the hospital room she looks around, assuring she didn’t wake anyone up but they are still asleep - or at least acting like that. Y/N stops in front of her bed and stares at the red feather, not knowing what to expect from it. It lays on the white covers, illuminated by the moon light and glowing deep red. The girl keeps staring at it, waiting if it might turn black but she loses patience and quietly storms out of the room, maybe afraid too.

———

previous chapter • index • next chapter

you can read the story on ao3 here: comfortable silence

[junipersgarden]

metanoia 0. | Prologue

PAIRING: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader

SUMMARY: After Tony Stark’s sacrifice to save the world, Y/N and Peter make a promise to one another.

WORD COUNT:  1754 words

WARNINGS: Angst, crying/ sadness and a funeral 

[NOT MY GIF] 

...

After the Battle of Earth - October 2023

...

Silence.

Even with every single hero that fought in the battle against the Mad Titan all in one place, complete and utter silence embodied them all as they stood in remorse and sorrow, mourning for their fallen avenger.

Tony Stark.

That name had many names, is known by many and will single handily be named as one of the world's greatest defenders; the man who sacrificed his life so that his loved ones and that the Earth could go back to the way things were, the ways things were meant to be even though he wasn't going to be there.

The Avengers had won this battle this time but at what cost?

You still couldn't get the image out of your head; a tarnished battlefield, Thanos's army disappearing one by one, the genocidal warlord turning to dust and Tony.

"And I... am.... Iron Man." Tony breathlessly let out and letting all of his strength go into snapping his fingers, the one desire and wish on his mind, hoping the stones will go by his will. Just once.

You wanted to cry to him, scream or just anything but even if you did, Tony knew the sacrifice had to be made, for you and for the ones around him.

You took small, staggered steps towards Tony, reaching and praying the universe would show him mercy, that everything could be okay and normal.

Through misty and weak eyes, you spotted him kneeling on the cracked ground, determination in his eyes, staring straight into the eyes of the enemy.

But as close and and as far away you were from him, the familiar snap of fingers rang through your ears.

"Tony-" You croaked out, fear burying itself inside of your subconscious, mind building unwanted thoughts and concerns of the worst, you tried walking toward him, still weak from the fight but a bright, piercing white light blinded your vision right before you could make it to him.

A hand on your shoulder startled you and you were brought back into the reality you wished wasn't real.

Turning around, your eyes met with none other than Peter Parker's soft, puffy chocolate brown one's. His eyes weren't full of innocence and happiness as you were used to seeing them

Peter gave a sad but yet comforting smile to you, afraid if he were to say something he would just choke up so he didn't.

His miserable smile somehow comforted you; he always has been able to make you feel secure and safe even in times where it seemed like nothing could overcome whatever you were going through.

But despite it all, Peter was your life-line, the one thing keeping you sane from all this madness.  

Without him saying anything, you knew what he was asking you; the pained and concerned expression over his face.

You couldn't answer him though. All you could do was emit stingful tears and cross your arms around you, clinging onto yourself so tightly.

As Peter inched closer to your side, you looked up and saw how much agony he was in and your heart shattered even more just by knowing how close Peter truly was to Tony.

Hesitantly, you started leaning into Peter because his face and body was screaming 'Y/N I need you.' so you took the opportunity and laid yourself into his right side, a sense of relief and a ripple of reassurance rushing throughout your body as he allowed you to fall into his.

Peter jolted slightly when he felt you but he responded as quickly as you acted, automatically snaking his arm around your waist, hugging you firmly to assure you that you're not alone and that he is there for you when you need him.

You could easily tell that he was thinking from the way his eyes stared so intensely at the ground; he's been in this position so many times from his parents to Uncle Ben and knowing Peter, you knew he was blaming himself, wishing he could of done more to prevent this but both of you knew there was nothing anyone could do to stop Tony.

The light startled you so much that you stopped straight in your tracks and your arms enveloped over your eyes to protect them from it but as soon as it appeared, it vanished.

Standing tall and in your masked suit, you noticed a piece of dust landed on your arm, the dust like substance you were so familiar with when yourself faded away from Thanos's actions.

Observing the area you saw that one by one, the numbers from Thanos's army decreased as his troops began to disappear from existence.

Everyone looked around at the enemy disintegrating away into nothing, looks of triumph and reassurance that shone on each Avenger's face; after 5 years, they had won the battle.

But with this victory, all you could do was worry about Tony; he stood frailly before loosing all his strength and leaned against rubble, sinking down in defeat.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, it's going to be okay.

With all your intrusive thoughts swarming and attacking you, growing bigger and bigger by the second, you spot War Machine followed by Spider-Man aid his side.

"Mr. Stark?" such a weak voice calls.

Now that voice you know too well. That's the same voice you've heard explain to you the homework due, the same voice that argued with you for hours about Star Wars, the same voice that reminds you of the better days.

"It's Peter."

Oh god...

Peter Parker; you always knew he was meant for something greater in this world but you never would of expected him to be Spider-Man. It never occurred that sweet, innocent Peter had experienced all the perks of being a superhero or that he knows what war truly is like and the consequences that come out of it.

Yet here Peter was, kneeling in front of his idol, whispering words of support and sympathy.

Before thinking your instincts kicked in and your foot rose from the ground, you were sprinting toward your best friend. Feet harshly stomping on the Earth's ruined terrain, breathing heavy from the burning in your throat from the despair inside of you.

You ran across the planet in a matter of what seemed like a life time and finally came to a halt when you saw Tony; his skin like charcoal, pale and lifeless eyes stare straight into your soul causing you to loose balance and fall on your knees.

Peter jumped from the noise of machinery scrapping the ground and turned to you. His face is bloody and bruised and has no glow like it always did before; Peter feels numb and nothing just like you are.

You looked into Peter's scared eyes and swiftly pulled him away from Tony and into a crushing hug as he cried into you.

He can't see me. With a mask over your face, he doesn't know who and what you are; no one does, not even Tony.

Give me a sign he is okay please.

But no sign is given; Pepper is now by his side and for a second, a brightness sparks in Tony's eyes when he sees her but dims just as quickly.

The look in Pepper's eyes and the nod of approval gives it all away and with the revelation that this is fact is real and better yet happening right in front of you, with nothing you could do to stop it.

Peter, you and everyone looked at Tony, filled with remorse, knowing that it was the last time they would see him friend but yet, he was a blur from all the tears that surrounded their eyes.

"We're going to be okay." Pepper assured him.

No we're not-

"You can rest now." Her voice trembled slightly as a subtle smile swept across her face, planting a final kiss on Tony's cheek.

Tony didn't say anything after that; he gently grabbed Pepper's hand and guided it to his heart and kept it there, arc reactor so small, so broken and so quickly departing.

Everyone around him stood to a standstill; the planet stopped orbiting, their hearts stopped beating but yet, their sorrows and tears began.

Say something Y/N.... say anything to him this is it.

But no courage or strength could even make you stutter a final goodbye and closure to him; he was already gone.

"He loved you, you know that... right?" Peter broke the silence.

You once again came back into reality and saw that now Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Steve and Morgan had placed themselves on the dock and all were standing together in remembrance.

"He loved you too Pete... and was as equally proud of you as well."

Peter gripped you tighter after your statement and you felt a teardrop soak your black dress.

He's been through so much already; who knows when he'll break. Jesus Christ Peter needs a break...

"Y/N?"

"...Yes Peter?"

"I-I know you weren't there when he- passed but just p-promise me that you'll stay by me... please? I just need you and you're the only one remotely close to my a-age who was close to To-"

"Peter." You huff out and interrupt his rambling, "You're my best friend, I'm here for you and I hope- no I know that you and I are going to be okay as long as we stick together."

"Just Y/N p-please promise me-"

"I promise you Peter. I'm not going anywhere."

Peter loosely released his hold on you and as you look up, you see his smile; oh boy that smile you've longed to see for a long time but you notice he is pointing his pinkie at you.

"Pinky promise Y/N?"

You can't help but actually and genuinely giggle at him by his child like antics but it all disappears when you notice again his puffy, bloodshot eyes full of worry and regret.

"I promise." Peter interlocks his pinkie with yours and for the first time in a long time, you both smile.

Hopefully Ned and MJ can help me with Pete... May and even Happy too; he needs support; he can't be left alone.

Peter Parker is Spider-Man... what is everyone going to do to him after Tony's gone... will they look to him?

And what about me and being Saviour? No one knows not even Peter.

I can't let Peter know I'm Saviour; it'll ruin him...

I won't let him find out.