#but my point about that scene in the tea shop still stands | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mydearestbeloved · 28 days ago

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Chapter 20 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

Jinwoo expected a simple meeting.

The kind of meeting he had grown used to—just you, him, your butterflies, and his shadows. He wasn’t sure what he wanted out of today’s talk, but he knew it would be significant. So, imagine his surprise when, upon entering your shop, he was greeted not by you, but by a stunningly elegant woman clad in a mix of black and white, bowing deeply.

“Greetings, Sire,” she said, her voice calm yet warm. “It’s been a while. I hope Sir Jinwoo and his family have been well.”

Jinwoo blinked. That voice—so familiar. And that crimson hair, a vivid shade identical to that of one of your butterflies. He froze, a realization hitting him like a bolt of lightning.

“R-Red?” His voice faltered, disbelief clear in his tone.

The woman straightened, her fiery red eyes gleaming with unmistakable delight. “It truly is a pleasure to introduce myself to you properly now, Sire.”

She smiled brighter, and Jinwoo noted how similar it was to the glow your crimson butterfly displayed whenever it radiated happiness. She looked radiant, regal even, yet there was a gentle familiarity in her demeanor. Before he could say anything else, Igris’s shadowy form flickered out from his side, curiosity practically pouring off the knight’s ethereal figure.

“Oh, hello to you too, Sir Igris!” Red beamed, inclining her head toward him.

Igris stood motionless, the faintest tilt of his helm suggesting his own shock. Jinwoo didn’t know what was more surreal—the fact that one of your butterflies was now a person or the fact that she was now speaking to Igris like an old friend.

Then, he spotted you emerging from a doorway at the back of the shop, carrying a small box. Relief surged through him—finally, someone who could explain. He turned, and before he could stop himself, he fixed you with a very pointed, very intense stare.

You sweatdropped as you took in the scene: Jinwoo’s laser-focused expression, Red’s beaming aura, and Igris standing frozen while wearing what appeared to be a flower crown, likely crafted by Red.

“Stop glaring at me, Jinwoo,” you said, exasperated yet amused. “I’ll explain, seriously.”

---

The four of you eventually settled at a table in your shop’s small sitting area. Red served the drinks—tea for you, coffee for Jinwoo—before bowing again and stepping back to stand near Igris. Jinwoo’s eyes flicked between her and Igris, noting how her movements seemed to mimic those of her butterfly form—graceful, purposeful, almost weightless.

“So,” Jinwoo began, breaking the silence, “you can level up again now?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“And your butterflies?” His gaze briefly darted to Red, who had taken a seat next to Igris and was now carefully braiding strands of crimson into the ethereal knight’s shadowy figure. Jinwoo had to fight the urge to rub his temples.

“The adult stage unlocked after I completed my ascension quest,” you explained, your tone calm and professional. “Once my children max out their pupa stage, they can ascend to a more corporeal form and gain autonomy. Red here was one of the first to make the leap.”

Jinwoo flinched slightly at the mention of the ascension quest and, by extension, the demon castle. The memory of you nearly collapsing in that fight still lingered in the back of his mind. But something else about your words caught his attention.

“What’s your level now?” he asked, feeling a mix of curiosity and dread.

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers brushing against the edge of your teacup. “I’m at level 150—”

Jinwoo exhaled, his pride slightly bruised but still intact. The gap was significant, but manageable. He’d just have to push harder—

“—last time.”

His mind screeched to a halt. “What?”

You fidgeted ever so slightly, a rare break in your normally composed demeanor. “Well, the system gave me cumulative EXP from all my previous quests. So, right now, I’m at level 200.”

Smack!

The sound of Jinwoo’s face meeting the table echoed through the room. You froze, startled. “Jinwoo?”

He didn’t answer, his arms now folded over his head as if to shield himself from the reality of your words. Even Igris seemed to flinch at the noise, the flower crown slipping slightly askew as Red stared on in muted curiosity.

With a sigh, you got up and walked over to Jinwoo’s slumped form. Gently, you ran your fingers through his hair, the soothing gesture a habit you’d picked up over the months. “Hey, it’s okay,” you murmured softly. “I’ve had years under the system and five years leveling up in an S-rank dungeon. Considering how fast you’re progressing, you’re doing amazing.”

Your hand stilled when Jinwoo’s fingers wrapped around it, his grip firm but not overwhelming. Slowly, he raised his head, his face still half-hidden in the crook of his arm. His ears were red, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes—half-lidded and glassy—refused to meet yours.

Oh my, you thought, struggling not to squeal internally. Is he… embarrassed?

Before you could tease him further, a familiar presence flickered at the edge of your mind. Your butterfly, Trick, spoke urgently: Mother! Miss Hae-In is—!

Simultaneously, Jinwoo’s gaze snapped to the distance, his expression turning serious. “You’re not coming?” he asked, though his tone held no judgment, only curiosity.

“No,” you replied softly. For a moment, you wanted to say more, to explain why, but you stopped yourself. Instead, you smiled at him, a look of quiet confidence and certainty.

“Then wait for me,” Jinwoo said, his hand tightening around yours before he leaned down to place a light kiss on your knuckles. His dark eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with an intensity that left your heart skipping a beat.

“Of course,” you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

He vanished into the shadows moments later, Igris trailing after him—but not before offering Red a small wave, which she returned with a subtle, wistful smile.

---

As silence returned to the room, you exhaled slowly, a strange determination settling in your chest. Red stepped up beside you, her expression now calm but expectant.

“Now then,” you said, setting your teacup down with a resolute clink. “Shall we see what these new powers can do?”

---

Jinwoo stood over the body of the Ant King, its grotesque form crumbling into ash under the weight of his shadows. But his focus wasn't on his victory. Instead, his eyes darted to the figure lying prone on the sandy ground. Cha Hae-In's body lay lifeless, save for the faint, flickering aura of a silver butterfly perched delicately on her cheek. It pulsed softly, a quiet rhythm that echoed her waning heartbeat.

The butterfly, one of yours. Jinwoo clenched his fists, frustration bubbling inside him.

"Why didn't she heal her completely?" Jinwoo muttered under his breath. You could’ve saved Cha Hae-In without breaking a sweat, yet you didn’t. His mind raced for answers. Was it the system? Had it restrained you again, as it so often did? Or… was there another reason?

His thoughts were cut short by the labored breathing of Hunter Cha. Jinwoo's jaw tightened. If you weren’t going to intervene fully, then it was up to him to finish what you'd started. You trusted him, didn’t you? He’d never failed you before—and he wasn’t about to start now.

The silver butterfly pulsed brighter, a soft hum that seemed to whisper, Hurry.

---

When Min Byung-Gyu opened his eyes, he was certain he should not have been able to. The last thing he remembered was the Ant King’s claws ripping through his body, the searing pain of his life slipping away. Yet here he stood, whole and unblemished, surrounded by a surreal, ethereal landscape.

The ground beneath him was soft, a mosaic of red spider lilies swaying gently in a nonexistent breeze. Their vibrant petals bled into a shallow pool of water, so pristine it mirrored the heavens above. Stars twinkled against the deep navy expanse of the sky, a sight unmarred by clouds or smoke.

And in the center of this dreamlike domain stood a figure cloaked in flowing white, her silhouette blurred at the edges as if dissolving into the glimmering butterflies that surrounded her. Her face was partially veiled, her lips and the tip of her nose visible beneath the translucent fabric.

"You really are a warm person," came her voice—soft, serene, and achingly familiar.

Byung-Gyu turned toward her, his eyes widening. That aura... that presence. It was healing, nurturing, and yet... unearthly. His heart told him he was in the presence of something divine, but his instincts as a healer told him this figure was no god. She was something more. Something human.

The woman smiled faintly, though there was a certain weight in her tone. "Would you like to return alive?"

Her words took him by surprise. Byung-Gyu took a step back, glancing down at his hands. His last memory was of his death—there was no mistaking it.

"I... What do you mean?" he asked hesitantly.

"I can give you a second chance to live," the woman replied. Her voice was unwavering, yet there was a detachment to it, as if she were merely relaying a message. "I think you deserve it. However, it’s not up to me to decide."

Byung-Gyu’s brows furrowed. He could feel the warmth emanating from her, yet there was something distant about her gaze.

"You have a strong sense of duty," she continued, her tone softening slightly. "But know this: if you accept my offer, you are to never step foot on the battlefield again. Even if your friends are in danger. Even if the world itself is ending. The moment you fight again, you will die."

Her words struck him like a thunderclap. Byung-Gyu’s lips parted as if to protest, but no sound came out. He stared at her, his mind swirling with questions, doubts, and fears. This woman—this being—spoke with an authority that was impossible to challenge. And yet, there was no malice in her decree.

“Would you accept?” She extended a hand toward him, her palm steady and unshaking.

Byung-Gyu hesitated, his gaze flickering between her hand and her veiled face. "If I accept…" His voice wavered, but he steadied himself. "Would you protect them in my stead?"

The woman stilled, her expression unreadable. Then, she gave a single nod. "I will stand by humanity’s side."

Byung-Gyu frowned. It wasn’t the answer he wanted. He wanted to hear her say she would fight for them, defend them tooth and nail, as he had. But deep down, he knew better. This figure wasn’t a soldier. She wasn’t a protector in the way he was.

Still, there was something in her aura—something profoundly human. It reminded him of a mother’s love: steadfast, unwavering, and all-encompassing.

"...I'll try my best," she added quietly, her voice softer now, tinged with an emotion he couldn’t place. "Even if you don’t accept."

And just like that, his doubts began to crumble. He didn’t know why, but he trusted her. Maybe it was her warmth, or perhaps it was the quiet resolve in her voice. Whatever the reason, Byung-Gyu felt a strange peace settle over him.

"Then…" He exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing. "I choose—"

A soft flutter interrupted him, and he turned his head. A single butterfly had landed on one of the spider lilies, its delicate wings glowing faintly in the starlight. It flitted up toward him, brushing past his cheek like a whisper before disappearing into the wind.

And in that moment, Byung-Gyu made his decision.

---

It was a miracle. There was no other way for Jinwoo to describe it.

The raid had concluded, and the air was heavy with the lingering tension of their battle against the Ant King. Cha Hae-In was stabilized but unconscious, cradled in Ma Dong-Wook’s arms, her condition precariously maintained by the shadow Min Byung-Gyu had become. Jinwoo, adhering to Baek Yoonho's heartfelt plea, had released the shadow of the fallen healer. For Jinwoo, it was an act of respect, honoring the wishes of the man who had given so much for humanity.

They were preparing to leave the cavern when a panicked shout rang out.

“S-Something is happening to Min Byung-Gyu's body!”

Jinwoo’s head snapped toward the source of the commotion. In the dim light of the cave, the sight unfolding before him was unmistakable: Byung-Gyu’s decapitated body was now enveloped in a radiant, otherworldly glow. The light was blinding, drowning out the cavern in pure white brilliance. Gasps echoed through the group as everyone shielded their eyes.

What the—” Jinwoo muttered, his instincts immediately going on high alert.

When the brilliance faded, Jinwoo and the others were left staring in stunned silence.

Min Byung-Gyu's body lay intact. Whole.

Not only had his previously severed head returned to its rightful place, but the wounds from the Ant King were gone. His chest rose and fell with steady breaths, his face peaceful as though waking from a restful sleep.

And then he stirred.

The collective shock in the cavern was almost tangible. No one moved or spoke, rooted to their spots as Min Byung-Gyu’s eyelids fluttered open.

He blinked slowly, his gaze sweeping the room until it landed on Baek Yoonho, who stood frozen, eyes wide and trembling. Byung-Gyu’s expression softened as a faint smile spread across his lips.

“Hyung?”

The single word shattered the silence. Baek Yoonho staggered forward, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for words that wouldn’t come.

“Byung-Gyu…” he finally choked out, his voice breaking.

It was a sight none of them could comprehend.

The others stared, their gazes flitting between Jinwoo and the revived healer. Choi Jong-In, Lim Tae-Gyu, Ma Dong-Wook, and even the A-rank reporter clutching his unpowered camera couldn’t hide their bewilderment. All eyes eventually settled on Jinwoo, silently demanding an explanation.

Jinwoo shook his head, signaling that he had nothing to do with it.

But inwardly, he knew. His sharp gaze caught the faint imprint of a butterfly at the base of Byung-Gyu’s neck, its golden shimmer unmistakable. It was your mark.

You had done this.

---

Later, when the others had left the cave to regroup and ensure Cha Hae-In received medical attention, Jinwoo lingered. He stood in the dim cavern, arms crossed, his shadowy aura faintly pulsing as he waited.

“You sure know how to make an entrance,” Jinwoo teased when the soft glow of silver butterflies appeared behind him, swirling gracefully before forming your familiar figure.

Your pout was immediate, and Jinwoo bit back a grin at how predictable you were. “You don’t need me, anyway,” you retorted with a sigh, brushing imaginary dust off your attire. “You have things under control.”

Jinwoo crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Did I?” he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice. “Because it sure felt like someone went out of their way to ensure things went a little smoother.”

Your expression faltered for a moment, and you glanced away. “I only stepped in when it was absolutely necessary,” you admitted. “Min Byung-Gyu deserved a second chance. And Hae-In...” You trailed off, your tone softening. “She’s a good person.” Jinwoo didn’t press further, sensing there was more you weren’t saying. Instead, you shifted the topic.

“Jinwoo, help me test something,” you said abruptly, interrupting his thoughts.

He tilted his head, intrigued.

“I’ve been wondering why I keep accumulating experience even when the system doesn’t assign me quests anymore. You hog all the EXP and rewards,” you accused, narrowing your eyes at him.

The jab hit its mark, but Jinwoo’s pride wouldn’t let it show. Instead, he smirked. “Maybe you just can’t keep up,” he said, his tone deliberately teasing.

Your unimpressed stare nearly made him laugh.

“And what do I get for helping you?” he asked, leaning slightly closer, curious about how far you’d go to win him over this time.

“What do you want?”

The question, spoken with such quiet sincerity, caught him off guard.

Your gaze was steady, unwavering, as if you had already anticipated his response. Jinwoo blinked, momentarily at a loss. Was it wrong that your willingness to offer him anything stung a little? Did you think so little of his intentions?

“…Dinner,” he muttered, almost too softly to be heard.

You frowned. “Pardon?”

He straightened, rubbing the back of his neck—a nervous tick you had come to recognize. “Join me for dinner,” he said more firmly, avoiding your eyes.

Your lips twitched into a faint smile. “You do realize that sounds like a date, right?”

The effect was immediate. Jinwoo stiffened, his composure cracking as he quickly tried to explain himself. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he stumbled over his thoughts.

You let him flounder for a moment before cutting him off with a soft laugh. “I’m joking. Sure, why not?”

Relief flashed across his face, though it was quickly masked by a neutral expression. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but your easy acceptance left him feeling oddly... dissatisfied.

---

As you suspected, your theory proved correct. You gained experience not through direct combat but by supporting others. Assisting Jinwoo, boosting his shadows, and stabilizing Cha Hae-In had all contributed to your growing level.

Yet, Jinwoo’s mood throughout the ordeal was noticeably subdued. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, there was a shadow of dejection in his eyes that even his loyal shadows couldn’t explain.

When you asked them for at least some short of indication to what was going on, they only shrugged apologetically, as if to say, “Our sincerest apologies. We have no idea what’s troubling Our Liege as well.”

You rubbed your temples in frustration, your butterflies fluttering around you in a show of concern.

What has gotten into him now?

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [23/11/2024] -

#solo leveling imagine #solo leveling #only i level up #solo leveling x reader #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo #yandere sung jinwoo #solo leveling fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader #fem reader

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websterss · 11 months ago

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CERTAIN — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

REQUEST: Hello, I was wondering if I could request a Anthony Lockwood x reader where the reader is his best friend but they have feelings for each other and don’t realize it until they notice how different they treat each other compared to everyone else (if that makes sense-)? Just fluff please!

WARNING(S): just fluff

WORD COUNT: 3,106

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Lucy and George had halted their chewing. Watching as you and Anthony worked in synchronization. The pair of you oddly knowing what the other one wanted, without question, without hesitation in any reform. It was undoubtedly so as you spread strawberry jam over Anthony’s toasted bread, whereas he had taken notice of the lack of liquid in your favorite green cup. He reached across you and poured you a good amount of orange juice. Never one for coffee or tea. You liked to drink it with pulp too. You had stopped talking, silently thanking him with a smile before you went back to conversing with Lucy, though she was hardly listening. Not really tuning into your ramble about a bloke who cut you off at Arif’s the other day. Unaware of her eyes flickering back and forth from Anthony placing and taking something in front of you, and you subconsciously making his plate.

“You’re seeing it too right?” Lucy muttered under her breath, just enough for George to hear. He hummed as he bit down on his biscuit.

Anthony had immediately taken the toast in front of him, cutting it triangularly with the butter knife. He bit into his own piece then held out his right hand for you to take the other half. Like second nature, you took it and began devouring. His head turned to confirm if you were okay and enjoying it. You hummed, your mouth full of food. You frantically pointed to your mouth and the rest of the piece in your hand.

“Is it lacking jam...” He nodded. Though not needing another second before he wiped the knife clean on a napkin, and dipped it into the jar again. He gestured to hand it over to him, you mustered a muffled thank you. As you chewed faster. He clicked his tongue at you.

“Slower, you’ll choke.” He shook his head before handing you the rest to finish. You reached forward with your hand, but he tutted you with a stern raise of his eyebrow. You rolled your eyes, but obliged. You slowed your chewing, then finally swallowed it all down. “Wash it down.” He gestured to your orange juice.

“No, I will not wash it down, give it to me!” You reached for it again, but he held it further from your grasp. “Anthony Lockwood, you dare deprive me of my breakfast.”

“I’d hardly call this breakfast, love. You could do a whole lot better with some eggs, or better yet pancakes. George, do we still have some batter left?” George flinched. Not expecting for the attention to be directed onto him.

“I-I’m not sure. I’ll have to check the pantry.”

“Well, let me know if we’re out. I can make a quick trip into town for groceries again.”

“You already shopped for groceries though?” You raised a brow at him.

“I know...” He shrugged. “You’re out of those mini pretzel bites though.” The information he inquired was news to you. Your eyes widened, mouth agape.

“No, I’m not, the bag was still half full the other day!” You could not believe your ears.

“I’m aware...” He slowly grimaced. The look of realization painting over your features made him stand out of his seat. The further the distance he set amongst you the safer he was. “But the thing is...I ate them you see.” He winced watching your face contort into anger. A frown dawning on your lips now.

“You ate them?” You slowly rose from your seat. George and Lucy reached for another biscuit, breaking the rule to only eat one at a time as they watched the scene unfold before them. This was reality tv at its finest. They both bit into their biscuits at the same time, eyes widened, wondering what would happen next. “You ate my bag of mini pretzel bites…”

“Now Y/n, lets not do anything irrational...” He held his hands out, slowly backing away from your approaching steps towards him. “I’m gonna go and get you some more. Swear on it.” He promised, hoping he could bribe his way from your death stare.

“Killing you seems rather rational to me.” He gulped nervously. “Better yet, it’s been long overdue!” You lunged forward but he veered left to flee your grabbing hands.

“Please.” The softness in his eyes almost made you grant him his life…almost. As soon as you mouthed for Lockwood to run, he high tailed it out of the kitchen. Struggling to open the kitchen door and make a break for his bedroom. Though he’d obviously have had a better chance to run out the front door and head to Arif’s. Surely you wouldn’t make a scene in a public place? Right?

Though he wasn’t as smart with his exit escape as he climbed up to the second landing. He tripped over his feet as you reached for his ankles. He let out a squeak of surprise. Lightly kicking you away, but also not trying to cause you any harm.

Back in the kitchen, Lucy and Geroge strained their ears, wanting to hear the upstairs commotion.

“Get back here, Anthony!” A loud slam of a door made them jump in their seats. George nimbles on his biscuit then turns to Lucy.

“How long you think till he realizes she can pick a lock?”

“Lockwood has no clue she can. It might take him a minute for him to register it.” Lucy mindlessly eyed the side you two sat on. She reached forward for the piece of bread you didn’t eat.

“I told him not to do it.” George chimed. “He never listens though now does he. It’s like he enjoys making her chase him.”

“He’s in love, Georgie. He’d get himself ghostlocked just to get her attention.” Lucy grabs your cup of orange juice while taking a sip.

“You’d think he would tell her by now…” George shakes his head.

“You’d think she would!” Lucy looks at him with bewilderment. “Those two are as blind as Mrs. Chester’s cat.”

“Her cat’s blind?” George narrows his eyes. Not yet registering.

“Scuzzle? Yeah poor kitty…She says he walks into things. Leaves him with dizzy spells, but it’s the only way she ever finds him.”

“Oh god…” George winces, imaging the poor woman following the sounds of thumps against surfaces.

“Yeah…”

“How did you- Wait, wait!” Lucy and George shift their heads towards the hallway.

“That didn’t take long.” Lucy grabs another biscuit.

“Her best yet.” George stops the stopwatch that appeared out of nowhere. He shows it to Lucy who hums. Very impressed.

“A minute and thirty. She’s outdone herself!” She laughs.

“I said I was sorry-“ Lockwood’s cackles echo throughout the house. The lack of beatings told them that you weren’t really out for his head, just out for the common assault of tickling him. “I-I’m sorry. Stop, stop, stop!”

The two snicker, amused by the whole ordeal.

“Twenty bucks says he’ll finally cave and tells her.” Lucy turns in her seat, elbow rested on the tabletop to face George.

“Keep your money George. He’s going to tell her at the Fittes ball, especially after Kipps asks her to dance. As a matter of fact, they’ll both realize how blind they’ve been.”

“Why would Kipps ask her to- Oh!” George reels in on her implication.

“Yeah!” Lucy’s eyes bug out. A smirk present of her face.

“You’re gonna make them…” George makes two puppet hands and smashes the tips of his fingertips together to form a kiss. “I get it now.”

“Now all I need…is a plan.”

Once you all had made it to the party. You had imagined it like any other highly rich organization would throw a party. Many important people dressed to the nines. You’re formal attire nowhere near as luxurious as everyone else.

“Stop that now.” Lockwood looked around the room. You whip your head up at him, stoping the tug of your dress.

“I’m not doing anything.” You furrow your brows and shake your head.

“You’re fussing. You look beautiful...”

You roll your eyes, but the mark of his words leave your knees almost buckling.

“Y-You’re just saying that...” You tug down your dress again. The fabric insufferable against your skin.

“I say a lot of things, but l’d never lie to you.” His charming smile paints his face.

“Now you’re just being annoying.” You huff and fetch a glass from one of the trays going around.

“I’d prefer the term honest.” He grabbed your glass and took a sip.

“Doesn’t suit you very well...” You take back the glass.

“Well what does suit me-”

“What a pleasant surprise?” Your smiles slowly fades as the familiar voice appears from the sides of you.

“Wouldn’t really refer it to pleasantry. Rather more so unfortunate.” Lockwood smirked at Kipp.

“Lockwood.” Kipp cleared his throat and then shifted his attention to you. You frowned at your attire before your eyes met his own. “Y-Y/n you…you look magnificent.”

“Ugh!” You rolled your eyes and walked away from the two insufferable men in your life.

Kipp haven been taken back by your leave turns to Lockwood confused. “Was it something I said?” Lockwood looks your way with a sigh.

“Luckily for you…not this time dear friend.” He smirks and clasps a firm hand on his shoulder. “She’s been questioning her appearance since the moment we’ve left the cab.”

“Why on earth would she? She looks wonderful…” Kipps furrows his brows together. "I've just the trick.” He pats Lockwood’s shoulder this time and walks off after you.

You had barely gotten to the staircases when Kipps tapped your shoulder. “Let me speak with you for just a minute, please.” You glance down at your dress before looking up at him. The expression on your face says enough for him to charm you with a smile.

“What’s wrong with it?” He asks. With a scoff, you tug on your dress and try to straighten yourself.

"Everything. The dress feels short, these heels are uncomfortable, and my face has never felt more heavy. I look foolish."

“No, that’s not at all true.” His eyebrows knit together and a small smile plays the corner of his lips. “You, Miss,” He nods to your dress, “Look…beautiful.” He lets the word linger in the air. “You’re quite simply the most stunning woman in the room.”

"Alright sap, what do you want?" You look away as heat grows in your cheeks. "You're being more annoying than usual."

Kipps smirks a bit before stepping even closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I need to know,” He leans in, “if you can dance.” Without waiting for an answer he places one finger on your chin and tilts your head up to his, his voice drops and becomes raspy. “Because I’d really like to ask.” He trails off letting his words hang in the air.

"You're being charismatic...because you fancy a dance?"

Kipps chuckles as you catch him in his attempts to sway you. "Would you turn me down if that is the case?" He extends his hand out to you.

"Lucy turn you down?" You tease.

The corners of his mouth twitch up at your taunt. "Never really bothered to ask? Shall we?"

"I don't know...I quite like my toes." You glance down at your heels.

"You'll get to keep your toes." He chuckles and extends his hand again. "Just a dance? Or are you afraid Tony will get mad?" Kipps looks back over to where Anthony is looking your way with a glass in his hand.

"Anthony? Why would his opinion decide my choices?"

"I don't know. You're always worried about his opinion. Why, I'm starting to think you like him, and he likes you." He gives a sly grin. "Given the way he looks at you and vice versa."

"I like him now, do I? What other assumptions have you conjured about what Anthony and I are to each other?"

"I just know that you act differently around him." He smiles slyly. "And he acts differently around you. Love, I've known him longer than you have, he doesn't just let anyone share a glass with him." He smirks as you realize he caught you and Anthony sipping from the same glass.

"You saw that- But that doesn't mean anything…" You exclaim.

"Oh, but it does." He chuckles as you turn away. "Or do you not notice how he always looks at you…how he can't help but stay close when he's around you? I've never seen Lockwood like this with anyone before. Anyone. The lads in love."

"N-No he's not." You glance over to where Anthony is still peering at the two of you. He notices your turmoil before he straightens up and begins making his way over.

Kipps lets out an amused cough. "See? There he is now. He cares more than you tend to realize, Y/n." He watches you and how you look away from Anthony. "I do quite envy him…" You look up with softened eyes.

"Kipps…" You sigh.

Kipps laughs, seeing you sigh. "I suppose you don't see it as that though. I won't pry anymore. But," He glances at your appearance again and then smiles as he lowers his voice. "I do stand by what I said before. You look magnificent tonight. I couldn't take my eyes off you the entire evening." His eyes dart around before settling back on yours. You look down at your shoes. "He holds your heart and you don't even realize the half of it..." He watches Anthony grow closer with interest, then turns back to you. He leans over and presses a kiss to your cheek. You close your eyes with guilt as he pulls away with a smile. "Perhaps our dance can wait another time. I'll see you around, Y/n." You watch him walk away, and look to your right as soon as you feel Anthony's arm brush against yours.

"What did he want?"

You smile at Anthony's eyes on you. "Eavesdropping now?" You tease, trying to hide the fact that Kipps had managed to catch you off guard with an unexpected compliment. To be completely honest, it pleased you. "He asked me to dance." You brush it off.

"S'not the trick I expected," Anthony mutters to himself. "I take it his walk of shame was you turning him down." He smirks.

"Maybe," You roll your eyes. "You jealous?" You snicker.

"Off Kipps. Please…" He shakes his head.

"Right. Of course not." You snicker again and give him a small kick. "You're such a liar, Tony." You look away, avoiding his smile.

"Tony now?" Anthony can't fight off the shit-eating grin on his face. "Oh, I sense trouble. What secrets did he spill now? You never call me Tony."

You bite back a giggle as he chuckles at the nickname. This wasn't the first time you had called him this though. "Shut up." You smirk at him as you glance away.

"I'm intrigued now. What did he say to you?" You groan and look back at him, smiling as you roll your eyes.

"It wasn't anything bad, swear." You fiddle with your ring. "He complimented me. More than once."

"And..." He extended.

"He said some things, but it's not important. You know how Kipps is." You gesture to the crowd around you. "All charm, no bite..." You cut yourself off as you grow timid under his watchful gaze. His teasing smile slowly vanishes when you continue to gaze at him with a new glint in your eyes, he knows that look all too well because he gives you the same one when you're not looking.

You nod, biting your lip as you wait for a response. You don't speak as you stare at him, searching for a sign that your feelings are reciprocated. He looks away, he's seen that look before, he's given that look before.

You notice his eyes glance from you to the crowds before looking back at you. You wait for his answer, it's what you've been waiting months to hear. Your heart beats fast in your chest as you anticipate a final judgment from him. You felt like you were going to explode.

"He mentioned that you…that you…" You start fidgeting with your ring again, twirling it between your fingers. "Hold strong feelings for me." Anthony closes his eyes, not thinking he'd ever have to admit his emotions to you in such a public scene. You glance over his shoulder, catching sight of Kipps tipping his full glass toward the two of you. You couldn't believe that Kipps would've said something like that, but you can't deny your excitement and the butterflies swirling in your stomach. The anticipation was overwhelming you.

His eyes shift from the crowds to you, and back again. You can feel your heartbeat picking up at the sight of his lips and how they're parted.

"He said you love me, that you've felt this way for a while…that you're certain of your love for me." You feel a surge of adrenaline run through your body as you stare at him in silence, anticipating his response.

"I am certain." He nods.

Your entire body felt like it was about to erupt. A jolt of excitement surges through you as your knees buckle slightly, and you start trembling. "So…you do?" You ask although it's completely obvious by the way he's gazing at you.

It seems impossible, you've dreamed of this moment for as long as you can remember, and here it is- right before you. Right here and right now. You felt like you could burst.

Anthony takes a step towards you. "Are you sure it wasn't just Kipps being his usual charming self?" He leans in, taking in a deep breath to smell your sweet scent. "I'm not sure I trust him to tell the truth about such a delicate matter…and-" You cut him off with a sweet kiss. He sighs and relaxes into the kiss. His arms snake their way around your waist to tug you closer.

You felt the electricity running through your veins, you could feel a smile plastered on your lips. Your whole body felt warm and tingly, all the while you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You knew what this meant. This whole night, the entire agency, your job, and all the ghosts you had hunted. None of it mattered as long as he was beside you. He holds you, the heat between the two of you radiates and you feel at home with him. You feel whole.

"I'm sure. I've never been more sure in my life than right now."

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood imagines #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x fem!reader #anthony lockwood oneshot #writings by juls #my gif

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melverie · 7 months ago

Text

⸺ LESSON 10 ⸺

Solomon

Lucifer

Solomon & "Nightbringer"

MC's magic

strange feelings & soup

the 'MC is human' situation

records of a banshee

misc

- lesson 9 || lesson 11 || all posts so far -

I'm going to reveal my crack theory on Nightbringer's identity soon since the brainrot is getting out of hand, but then again, it shouldn't be hard to guess based on the points I bring up for this lesson :) I'm still preparing a sideblog for that tho, so it might take a bit Also if someone wants to get tagged for these recaps, do let me know! General spoiler warning for all of Obey Me Nightbringer, as well as for the original Obey Me

⸺ SOLOMON ⸺

Solomon suddenly shows up at HoL uninvited and claims he and Simeon have plans for drinking tea together. Simeon doesn't remember ever making such plans [10-4] -> while we're not told what they are talking about, I'm guessing it has to do with 10-A -> love how he just was at Nightbringer's tea party, and now his immediate response when asked why he's here is just "......Simeon and I are having a tea party" lol

by the time Solomon arrived at HoL, Satan was already outside, yet he didn't realize Solomon came over [10-18] -> while you can argue that Satan was just so caught up in watching the cat, he does notice MC coming over, the brothers leaving to the Demon Lord's Castle, AND this is the same demon that could later tell on that MC was standing in front of his bedroom door based on the intervall of their footsteps

⸺ LUCIFER ⸺

Belphegor talks about Lucifer trying (+ failing) to hold in his laughter [10-1]. Demon!Lucifer would never :(

Lucifer seems overly reluctant to take MC with him and Belphegor at first [10-4]. When asked why, he deflects -> he was kind of quick to entertain the idea of taking Solomon with him as the 'uninvolved third party' though

Lucifer seems surprised that Belphegor was denied entry to a shop back when they first arrived in the Devildom [10-6; pic below] -> since this treatment from the denizens was part of the reason Mammon wanted to gain the title of 'Rulers of the Underworld', you'd think that Lucifer would be aware of this kind of treatment happening in the first place...

it's raining, which reminds the brothers of the day before the Great Celestial War + according to Lucifer, it was unusally quiet [10-9]. The brothers talk about what everyone was doing that day:

Belphegor was napping in a tree and was all alone that day [10-11] Beelzebub was off in the human world to run an errand on Michael's behave [10-11] Asmodeus was taking a bath, and thinking of ways to get out of Raphael scolding him later on [lesson 10 hard mode] we don't get any comment on Satan, but he was obviously still part of Lucifer, so uh... Would have been interesting to know if he has any fragments of Lucifer's memories of that time tho Leviathan and Michael were taking a walk and talking [lesson 10 hard mode] Mammon was tasked with covering Beelzebub's gatekeeping duty, but he ended up skipping out of it [lesson 10 hard mode] and then there's Lucifer who was......somewhere. The game doesn't tell us what he was up to, but instead points out that no one knows where he was [lesson 10 hard mode; pic below]

Lucifer hogging the family braincell as usual and immediately realizes that, yep, MC has the Ring of Light [10-16] -> btw kind of unrelated but I do find it funny that out of all the characters to (originally) head to the Demon Lord's Castle to free Beel, it was MC and Luci & Belphie. You know. The only two brothers that wanted to attack MC once they found out that they are a human. Imagine what would have happened if Mammon, Levi and Asmo hadn't shown up lol

⸺ SOLOMON & "NIGHTBRINGER" ⸺

[hi, this is probably the only time I'm bringing the Japanese version into this recap simply because I already translated this specific scene here]

illusion!Diavolo and illusion!Simeon pressure Solomon into choosing either demons or angels. Solomon chooses the secret third option :) [10-A] -> since this illusion was most likely created by Nightbringer, we can assume that he wants Solomon to either choose his side (whichever that may be), OR to simply abandon humanity altogether -> a little later on Solomon implies that Nightbringer should know by now that Solomon won't ever waver on his convictions -> Nightbringer knows Solomon well enough to know that threatening MC's safety might get him to change his mind. Solomon does stop smiling at this threat, so he does seem to take the threat seriously

during the illusion tea party, Solomon says that he just wants to be free, and that that's part of his agreement with "him" [10-A] -> while we don't know for certain, I'm guessing his agreement is with Nightbringer since it would make sense narrative-wise

Solomon also tells Nightbrignger that he sounds like a demon [10-A] -> sounds like something you'd either say to someone who isn't a demon, or someone who only recently became a demon

Nightbringer says that Solomon is acting more like a demon than he is because of his arrogance [10-A] -> Solomon then says that it is inevitable that he behaves like a demon since Nightbringer made him to the person he is today

Two fun facts about the Japanese version! 1. Nightbringer uses 「傲慢」 for 'arrogant', which also happens to be the word used in the game for the deadly sin 'pride' 2. instead of saying "you're the one who made me who I am today", Solomon says that Nightbringer is the one who reduced him to what he is now

when Solomon calls Nightbringer......'Nightbringer' (lol), he actually puts his name in quotation marks in the Japanese version [10-A; pic below]. Makes you wonder if he actually is the historic Nightbringer we learn a little of later on, or if it's just someone using that name...

「」 are the Japanese quotation marks

⸺ MC'S MAGIC ⸺

MC one again absorbs the brother's magic in order to calm down Beelzebub [10-16]

⸺ STRANGE FEELINGS & SOUP ⸺

beast mode Beelzebub is heading to the colosseum, and Lucifer points out that it was build on the exact spot the brothers first landed in the Devildom [10-13]. That was a year ago. Why is it built already??

Leviathan points out that the Great Celestial War feels like a really long time ago [lesson 10 hard mode]

⸺ THE 'MC IS HUMAN' SITUATION ⸺

[hey, we finally reached the reason I wanted to make this its own category, whuu!]

so here's the thing:

1. back in lesson 8, Diavolo said that while he is now fairly confident that MC is indeed a human, he still can't be 100% sure because there is "something else" within MC [8-1; first pic below] 2. back in OG season 3, fairy illusion!Lucifer asks MC what they are. If MC answers that they are an angel, illusion!Lucifer says this that he knows when he is in the presence of an angel, but also admits that there is something else within them and that he can't say so for certain [OG 52-5; second pic below]

THE REASON I'M BRINGING ALL THIS UP is because now in lesson 10, Lucifer once again mentions being able to tell when he's in the presence of an angel. This time, however, he indirectly claims that he can tell that MC isn't one [10-16; third pic below]

⸺ RECORDS OF A BANSHEE ⸺

Beelzebub managed to escape from his prison cell and we learn about the state he is in [10-9; pic below]. Once again, it seems like too big a reaction for just hearing the word 'banshee'

we also learn that Beelzebub's rampage started right after the brothers left earlier [10-9; pic below]

Barbatos actually blames the brothers for Beelzebub's escape [10-9] and I am inclinded to believe him because:

1. Solomon was (supposedly) with him earlier, meaning Barbatos would have known had Solomon tried to pull something. And yet he is blaming the brothers 2. while Solomon could have just been sneaky & teleported away right after putting some kind of spell/curse on Beelzebub, the other characters mentioned last lesson that Beelzebub was already acting beside himself during the dinner party, meaning it must have been someone who was also at the dinner party. From what we know, Solomon was with MC at the time 3. while it could have been both Solomon AND Barbatos, I seriously doubt that Barbatos was involved in this situation in any way. Diavolo is already in a lot of distress because of suddenly having to govern the Devildom, MC's situation, Lucifer's comment last lesson and so. much. more. The Beel situation right now just causes Diavolo even more stress, and doing something like that just feels COMPLETELY out of character for Barbatos 4. speaking of seeming out of character, it's not like Barbatos to just baselessly accuse others like that, meaning he probably had a solid reason to blame the brothers 5. I am reaching with this one, but I like the idea lol--Diavolo still has the ability to tell lie from truth, and while Belphegor vehemently denies having played any part in Beelzebub's escape, Lucifer never outright says so

they suddenly start arguing that Beelzebub is acting like this because he's hungry [10-13] -> thing is, we later learn that he's lacking his "demonic disposition" and that the hunger he feels is all No. 6's doing. So unless No. 6 suddenly decided to go all in that can't be true

⸺ MISC ⸺

Belphegor tells MC a little more about Lilith + we get Michael lore (he looks like a jellyfish :] ) [10-1]

Belphegor also tells us that the Celestial Realm forbids angels from intervering with a human's life [10-1]

Belphegor's line from the website [10-1; pic below]

the sibling bickering <3 [10-6; pic below]

Simeon reassures Satan that they will one day be known as "the seven brothers" [10-18]

#i think there was also a moment in season 1 og where one of them mentioned something along the lines of mc's soul not being entirely human #but i don't remember where exactly so i'm not going to include it here #also i messed up the timing of the michael looks like a jellyfish thing my bad #i wrote down the notes for lesson 9 & 10 back to back so i thought it happened earlier ;-;#i like discussing things with the lovely people over on the starfall server before i post them #so until my thoughts are peer reviewed they won't get posted lol #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me spoilers #obey me nightbringer spoilers #mel's descend into madness #sorry these sometimes take a bit btw

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ziezii · 7 months ago

Text

Zutara Month 2024 ; Scarf

first half of this is entirely inspired by the famous scarf scene from natla! are we surprised even 😂 happy reading everyone!

Zuko opened his eyes, fully expecting himself to be in his bedroom. Only that, he was not.

He looked around, trying to make sense of where he actually was. People chattering amongst themselves, sellers offering their baked and raw goods, large carts being pushed with an assortment of different fruits and vegetables. Zuko figured he's at some sort of marketplace.

He then realized that his scarred eye was covered, a long gray piece of cloth wrapped around his head. Not dwelling on that much further, his uncovered eye scanned around the busy marketplace, almost bumping into people who were walking right in front of him.

“Watch where you’re going kid!” one shouts, Zuko muttering a small ‘sorry.’ and continued walking. After what seemed to be a few minutes, he looked straight forward and found himself staring.

There was a girl, standing not that far from him. She seemed to look confused, well that’s how Zuko felt like she was feeling. The scarf wrapped around her neck and shoulders doesn’t hide away from the blue dress she was wearing. She looked, pretty.

Zuko immediately shook his head. Why was he thinking that? He didn’t even know what she looked like. His focus shifted to the point where he almost didn’t see that the girl in front of him was walking to where he stood.

Her shoulder bumped into his left arm, causing him to lose his footing for a small second. The tail-end of her scarf flew upwards as the wind blew, Zuko’s hand shot-up as his fingers grazed through the soft blue fabric as she walked away, his uncovered eye looking to where she was going.

Just as he was about to follow her, a large stand of cabbages was pushed towards his direction. The merchant didn’t seem to realize that there was someone in front of him because his eyes were focused on somewhere else, so imagine his surprise when he heard a grunt and his cabbages all falling on the floor.

The last thing he heard before closing his eyes was a cry from the said merchant, “My, my cabbages!”

…

Zuko shot-up from his bed, eyes opened. He looked down and saw that he was back wearing his pajamas, well more like his red unwashed shirt with his pair of black sweatpants. He then looked around, he’s back in his bedroom.

He sighed, brushing off what that dream was about and grabbed his phone. The 20+ notifications from Suki and his Uncle asking him where he was immediately made jump out of bed.

“Shit!” he was late, well almost since the tea shop opens in about 30 minutes. Still, he knew Suki would tease the heck about him being late since he’s notoriously famous for being the ‘never late.’ coworker.

Note to self, if your dream starts looking way too good, maybe that’s the time you should wake up.

Forgetting to lock his apartment door, his motorcycle almost getting dented, safe to say that Zuko’s day is going great. He ran to the back doors of his uncle’s tea shop, seeing Suki all dressed with her apron and name-tag eating a sandwich.

He stopped almost in front, panting as he asked, “Am I late?”

Suki looked at her phone, “Nope, almost though.” she said with a knowing smile. Zuko groaned, sitting next to her.

“Before I tease the hell out of you,” she continued, “why were you late?”

He contemplated on telling her, but might as well as he needed to let it off his chest, “Had a dream.”

Suki only looked at him weirdly, “Okay, what kind of dream? You’re not someone who gets distracted, even in your sleep.”

Zuko sighed, he tells her what happened in that dream. Suki listened intently, nodding to show him she was listening.

After telling her, Suki just said, “You never had any sort of dream of her prior?” and he shook his head.

“Well, what if it’s a sign?”

He rolled his eyes at her reply, “What sign? I just so happen to be curious about a girl who appeared in my dreams?”

“Your uncle would certainly say it’s a sign, you never get dreams.”

“Maybe because I don’t tell you guys?”

“If you tell us about this one, then maybe this is your first time dreaming.” she shot back at him, smirking a little. He once again rolled his eyes, he forgot how Suki is a whole hard believer in getting any signs in the form of dreams or visions.

“I don’t think so, I highly doubt it.” Suki just shrugged, by then the two stood up and walked back inside to finally start their shift.

“Chan, one jasmine and ginseng tea! Oh, and one cheesecake.” their shift went on as per usual. Zuko was mainly in charge at the dining room, serving and assisting their customers.

Suki too, grabbing their orders up and bringing them to the customers. As Zuko walked to the back of the cashier where his Uncle was sitting, Suki walked and sat next to him.

“Oh! Uncle, you wouldn't believe what Zuko told me.” Zuko immediately threw a death glare at her, but she persisted, “Zuko dreamed about a girl.”

He knew his Uncle was just as adamant as her when it came to his social (well, more-so his love) life so he wasn't surprised when Iroh clapped his hands in pure joy.

Zuko tsk-ed, “Uncle, don't-”

“Why don't my nephew? This is wonderful news!”

“I don't even know what she looks like.”

Iroh smirked, “Well, there must be something that stuck out to you in that dream of yours about her.”

Damn it, Zuko thought.

“So, what was it?” Suki was enjoying the show, also curious since he didn't tell her about this.

He looked back and forth from his Uncle's expectant face to Suki, who grinned his way.

There was no getting out of this, huh.

With a loud sigh, he then muttered, “She was-” but immediately stopped himself when he saw that they had new customers coming in. Not wanting to engage in this conversation any longer, he stood up and walked away from the two.

Iroh laughed, “He never changes.” which Suki nodded and laughed as well.

He grabbed his notepad from his apron's front pocket as their two new customers sat down. Zuko pulled up his small smile as he looked up and asked, “Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, what can I-”

He stopped. No, it can't be. The scarf. Her scarf.

Noticing the confused looks on him, Zuko shook his head and continued his words, writing down their orders and walking away as he sighed in relief.

He didn't realize he was holding his breath, walking towards the register to type in their orders.

“So, is she the one?”

“Shut up.” Zuko immediately answered, a faint blush on his cheeks giving off his blatant lie.

Suki only laughed, looking over her shoulder to eye on the customer sitting right next to Zuko's dream girl.

Literally.

“Well, you're not the only one eyeing on someone from that table.” Zuko looked at her with a mix of confusion and disgust as he realized what she meant.

“Go talk to her.”

Zuko froze, eyes wide as he looked at her.

“Are you insane?”

“Why not?” she shrugged, “You'll surprise yourself if-”

“Uh, excuse me?”

Two turned around and were greeted by her. The person they were talking about.

Zuko held his breath. After his failed attempts at glancing or keeping eye contact on her when he took their orders, he realizes that this is the first time he's fully seen her.

And damn, was she beautiful.

The scarf wrapped around her neck, her long brown hair let down. Two smaller sections of her front hair pulled back to her hair bun. Zuko knows jack-shit about hair.

Her skin just glows under the orange lighting of the tea shop. He gulped, his eyes darting elsewhere when he realized he'd been staring.

“-And this is Zuko.” he's brought back when he hears Suki. Seeing that Katara was now looking at him, he could only stammer his introduction.

“I, uh,” he gulped, the girl looking at him with this sort of fondness only made it worse, “Hi?”

He groaned, while the two girls just laughed at him.

“Suki, this one's for table 10!”

“Well, looks like this is my queue to leave,” Suki says, patting Zuko's tense shoulder, “If you need anything about your order, Zuko will handle it.”

He was about to protest, but to no avail as Suki already walked away from them. Zuko let out a sigh, before his eyes fell on her once again.

“I'm so sorry, do you, uh, want to add something to your order?” he says a little too fast, but that doesn't stop him from stuttering it all out.

“You're funny.” she chuckled, “Not really for me, but my brother over there wanted to get the cheesecake.”

“No problem, I'll go put that in,” he trails off his words, wanting to continue on what he was saying before she beat him into it.

“Katara.” her smile made him warm, she did know what he wanted to say.

"Alright, Katara." he answers, subconsciously smiling back.

She was about to walk away before Zuko held her arm and stopped her. She turned around, her eyes locked to him.

“I,” Zuko doesn't understand how he gets so nervous when he's talking to her, “your scarf is very, pretty.”

Katara's eyes widen slightly, before she smiles once again and replies, “Thank you, Zuko.”

#zutara #katara x zuko #zuko x katara #zutara month 2024 #zutara month #day 15 #scarf

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emeritus-fuckers · 2 years ago

Note

I got dumped on my birthday and I'm still not okay 😭😭 so if you could write some hcs or a fic on how all the papas would comfort you or deal with the situation? Please

But if you're busy or don't want to then it's seriously okay ❤️❤️❤️

I'm so sorry for you, babe! No worries, I got you! From the request I assumed you wanted it platonic, I'll gladly do another one if you want a romantic one, too - Jez

Papas comforting you after a heartbreak during your birthday party headcanons

Includes: Primo, Secondo, Terzo, Copia, young and old versions of Nihil. Sodo, Swiss, Aether, Cirrus and Cumulus mentioned in Copia's. Sister Imperator mentioned in Nihil's.

Primo

At this point we all know he's a top tier father figure.

If he witnesses it, the first thing he does is talk to you and ask the ghouls to take you outside so you can catch a breather while he gives the bastard who hurt you a very stern talking to.

Keep in mind, he's in his late 70s/early 80s. He might appear old and fragile, but this man can be scary. Very scary.

Might pretend to curse the poor bastard. Or actually do curse them.

Needless to say, when he's done, the whole room is quiet for a long time, even if he barely raised his voice.

He doesn't slam the door when he leaves. Doesn't need to.

He then joins you outside and gently holds your face, wiping your tears gently with his thumbs.

You spend the rest of your day in his garden or greenhouse, which is also his own little butterfly conservatory.

He'll make tea with you (from scratch!), walk you through the process of it and teach you which one is good for what.

Do you want to talk about the situation? He's all ears.

Do you want to distract yourself and forget about? He'll give you a tour of the place, teach you about the plants and butterflies (fun fact, I can also teach you about butterflies - Jez).

He'll keep you company as long as you need it and should you need a parental figure to help, he will.

He's absolutely the sweetest in that regard.

Secondo

Facepaint or not, this motherfucker can be intimidating as fuck. The poor bastard that broke your heart will absolutely end up crying just from this man's glare.

It's up to you to continue to party after that jackass leaves. If you want to continue the party, Mr. Worldwide over here will absolutely let out his inner party animal and help you forget everything.

If you wanna leave, you're leaving, no questions asked.

He takes you shopping and pays for everything you look at for more than five seconds. Everything you touch, too. And don't even try to protest.

"It's a gift from me to you. You won't turn down Papa's gift, now will you?"

Bro will gaslight you into letting him pay, it's best for you to just go with it, trust me.

Takes you to a fancy restaurant, somehow manages to get the entire place empty for the two of you. Don't ask me how.

Takes a week off and turns it into your birthday week. He takes you anywhere you ever hinted at wanting to go.

Even if abroad.

You are getting everything you want and that's it. There's no time to think about some idiot.

Terzo

He most likely causes a scene, mocking the bastard stupid enough to hurt you.

It's almost like a stand-up routine, where he somehow manages to point out the very specific thing that asshole is insecure about.

Nobody gets to hurt his friends and gets away with it.

The way he acts also puts the spotlight on the one who broke your heart, letting you slip out and take a breather.

Terzo will end his little performance by either spitting on the shithead's face or straight up slapping them, really depends on how strong your reaction was. If it was bad enough, he'd punch them, no questions asked.

When he's done, he'll come and find you, offering you a hug. He'll hold you as long as you need, rubbing your back comfortingly.

He'll ask you what you need. He knows nobody is gonna know how to help you better than you.

He'll probably have his ghouls keep people away from you until you feel better.

He will probably ask Primo for advice, too.

Terzo might be a shitty cook and and even worse baker, but if you like to do stuff in the kitchen, he'll do his best to help, even if it's just silly things like handing you ingredients.

He'd probably take you to an amusement park in the evening.

Buys you all the colors of cotton candy.

Buys you a big plushie of your favorite animal.

Terzo's comfort food is Chinese take out, so he'll probably get you to try that, too.

You get a second, better birthday party with him and the Ghouls.

Copia

Back in his cardinal days, he'd just take you away and try his best to soothe you.

As Papa, however, he got a major confidence boost (he's still very awkward, but he can be serious and confident when needed) and he won't let that slide.

Copia is by no means as scary as the other Papas can be, but he's got charm and he can make people just kinda... Flow with what he says. And his ghouls are a menace.

So when he throws a comment about the bastard, his ghouls (especially Sodo, Swiss and Aether) pick up on it and bully the life put of them.

Meanwhile Copia and the Ghoulettes leave the party with you, taking priority in your comfort.

Copia leaves you in their care for a bit so he can arrange something better for you. Cumulus is put in charge of taking care of you.

You get a sweet little homemade spa session with them and once Copia comes to pick you up, the Ghoulettes giggle at how flustered he gets for no apparent reason.

"Ah, I am terribly sorry for leaving you, I just wanted to make everything perfect for you, I hope they didn't mess with you too much!"

You ignore Cirrus's little giggle as she watches you both leave. She totally ships you guys.

Copia takes you to his room, his rats up and about, eager to play with you as she sits you on his little couch and runs to finish dinner preparations.

The food he made was just a little bit burned (he apologized for several minutes until you laughed and assured him it's fine), but you can definitely tell he made it with love!

Gaming night with him and the rats! He lets you do most of the gaming, only jumping in when you need help or giving you some tips. Even if the tips are a bit useless, it's the thought that counts.

You get ice cream, too. And have a sleep over. If you're uncomfortable with sleeping in the same bed, he takes the couch.

Copia just wants you to be comfy!

Young Nihil

This man will throw hands, no questions asked.

I mean it. He's a hoe, but he's very protective of his friends.

The bastard who broke your heart? Yeah, he's on the floor now, clutching his jaw.

"Serves ya right. Fucking bitch."

Nihil definitely spits on them, too. Might kick them in the stomach once for good measure before turning to you, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and telling everyone to go back to partying.

Gets you a drink. According to him, it's the best thing to do after a situation like that.

"That's what I did after Sister dumped me. And now I'm as good as new!" (bold faced lie)

You probably were there to see that this dumbass was a wreck and had to comfort him after Sister Imperator ended whatever the relationship has.

In his eyes, he owes you for that. He's... A bit stupid, though, let's be real here.

Ends up focusing more on making the party great and making the idiot who broke your heart regret their decision.

Once he realizes that's not what you needed, he asks what it is, then. Because in his eyes, there's nothing better he could do.

Give him detailed instructions. He'll forget half of it, but he'll go all out on the half he remembers.

Old Nihil

Bro takes it personally.

Scoffs and berates the bastard like he's the one who got his heart broken??

Goes at it so hard he needs a minute with his oxygen tank when he's done.

He then proceeds to leave with you. And demands you tell him what you want so he can throw you a better party.

He acts like he's genuinely offended at how the original party turned out and the only solution is to throw a bigger, better party.

Strippers will be included.

And fireworks.

Old man goes out of his way to make it as big and loud as possible like he's trying to prove something to the world.

Just like when he's younger, he ends up a bit too focused on it. You have to remind him yourself that it's kinda about you and not his party.

He waves his hand dismissively at that, giving you a checkbook. Sends you shopping with some ghouls. Probably gets you a grand makeover just for the party.

He'll keep you close when you're back and will ensure this party is the best party you've been to.

He's not the best at comforting, but he shows his affection a bit differently.

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respectthepetty · 2 years ago

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@optimisticdreamtacoshark - I'm glad you enjoyed my Dark Blue Kiss color post. I highly encourage everyone to rewatch the series because not only does it hold up after three years, but maybe your eyes might catch some smaller details:

T-shirts:

Since T-shirts were Mork and Sun's love language...

When Sun is trying to get Mork to go home with him and explaining how Mork could be better, Mork's shirt reads "I AM BASIC"

After Sun kisses Mork, and Mork runs away to avoid Sun, Mork wakes up in a "NO" shirt

Mork gives Sun a different shirt to wear claiming they were the only ones left in the gift shop; however, they continue to stand in the best positions for the "MINE" signs to point to the other AND Mork's shirt is American Sign Language for "I love you"

Rain's first scene has him wearing a "I'm not short. I'm concentrated awesome" shirt

And his last scene has him wearing "My Giant" shirt

When Non was trying to confess to Kao, Kao's shirt states "La piscine" in blue and red, which is Pete's color, and means "The pool" in French which is Pete's favorite place

And when Non is lying to Pete about being invited over for dinner, his shirt states "I know you think you know everything" in red, which is Pete's (and Non's) color

Background & Signs:

When the show starts, the sign for the Blue Sky Cafe's, which blue boy Sun owns, is completely in blue

But as the red rascal Mork warms his way into Sun's heart, the sign integrates Mork's red

Whenever blue boys Kao and Sun are experiencing hardships, their backgrounds are highlighted in blue reinforcing who they are and giving them support

When the barista from the other coffee shop is flirting with Mork, the sign next to Mork states "No Entry Allowed" since his heart already belongs to Sun

And when Sun asks Mork to stay, their hands touch next to the blue "I love you to the sea & back" notebook

When Mork leaves Sun, and Sun is wandering around missing Mork, he unknowingly stops in front of the place Mork is now working and the sign behind him tells him to go "IN"

And when they fight outside the bar, the wall reads "FAKE: Human beings survive by faith, love, and belief in dreams. Life is so short. Let's be happy"

A constant sore point between Kao and Pete is Pete's desire to be open about their relationship, while Kao is afraid; therefore Pete is usually reinforced by rainbows and colors while Kao isn't

And when Pete and Kao breakup, the multicolored books behind Pete read "Love Story" and "Second Wind" aka second chance in red and blue, Pete and Kao's colors

Barriers:

Kao and Pete never have physical barriers to demonstrate emotional disconnect until this moment. Non is literally and figuratively the divide between Pete and Kao

After that, several physical barriers come between Pete and Kao as they struggle to communicate

In this scene, Pete once again argues for Kao to admit publicly that they are dating. The barrier between them is an open door which symbolizes honesty and living openly. This door in every other scene had been closed.

The distance between them grows so much that wide shots are used to show the empty space that is normally filled with their love. The barrier also still exists with the sign that reads "We make life easier, safer, and greener" which shows irony.

Mork and Sun also experience communication barriers, but their barrier features several items in pairs: the cups, the cakes, the images on the chalkboard, the tea packets, etc.

For Funsies:

Mork and Sun serving us vers

If you spot any others, let me know, and as usual, thank the director P'Aof and the cinematographer Rath for a great visual narrative.

I also did this for Semantic Error in case anyone is interested.

#Dark Blue Kiss #the colors mean things #Pete x Kao #the cinematography #the visual cues #Dark Blue Kiss the series

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myfirstpoetrybook · 8 months ago

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good omens scene draft !!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It was as if, in the blink of an eye, the bell had rung and the odd lady was standing in his shop. The crow on her shoulder was still, croaking out a small sound every now and again.

Her clothes were tattered and old, just as old (if not older) as Aziraphale’s cotton shirt and waistcoat. she was clean, but unsteady on her feet as she approached the ever so cautious angel.

“oh, good morning!” she said happily, voice a bit strained, “I do hope you could forgive such an intrusion, but could you point me to an apothecary? I’m not from around here,”she had an odd sort of accent, like she hadn’t spoken to a young person, well, ever, actually.

when Aziraphale didn’t respond, simply staring bemusedly, she continued.

“I seem to have run out of willow bark, and i’m simply too weak to go collecting any, the trees are quite a trek away from my cottage. i was hoping i could find some around here..” she trailed off.

Well, the poor lady clearly needed help. what kind of angel would he be to deny her ?

“Why, certainly, dear,” Aziraphale said after some consideration, “i have some in my shop, actually. perhaps you would like to sit with me for tea before you go?”

He does not have any willow bark. He reasons that the woman is clearly ill, and a small miracle wouldn’t hurt. besides, he wants to get to know her better. she’s… familiar, but he can’t quite place her.

she ponders the proposition for a moment. the crow croaks in her ear, and it’s as if she gave into whatever it told her. with shaking knees, she says with a small smile, “well, a little tea never hurt anybody.”

Aziraphale leads her to the back of the bookshop, sitting her down and leaving to fuss with the kettle. the crow croaks once again and spreads its wings, and Aziraphale suddenly realizes the danger to his books this bird poses.

“Um, i hope that your…companion,” he couldn’t think of a better term, “will stay put. i’d hate to have to repair any more books,” he says, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Oh, Nancy?” the woman asks, pointing to the crow, “Oh, don’t worry, she’s absolutely lovely! she will stay right here, won’t you, Nance?” she says, putting her finger to the crow’s beak.

Aziraphale smiles, going back to the tea. He prepares three cups, as Crowley is bound to come in soon.

“Pardon my manners, miss, but i haven’t caught your name. I’m Mister Fell,” he introduced himself with a hand on his chest.

The woman seemed a bit stunned at the question, but recovered quickly enough.

“Oh! Oh, I’m Lilith,” the stranger said with a warm smile.

Aziraphale stops in his tracks. He thinks back to the poor, curious girl in the Garden, crying in confusion as she doesn’t understand why she’s being cast out of her home.

he shakes himself out of his stupor. with nothing better to say, he settles on, “Your mother must have been very interesting to have come up with such a name.”

the woman frowns. “Mother?” and then, a split second later, “Oh, yes, quite. I mean, I think. Didnt know her much.”

finally, Aziraphale sets the tea between them. the woman does not seem to want to talk any longer.

They drink their tea in a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the clinking of porcelain cups and the croaking of a very sleepy crow.

The ringing of a doorbell sounds through the shop for the second time today. Crowley walks in, swagger in his step as he walks to the back.

“You’re welcome, angel. i secured us tickets to the play you were raving on about,” he calls through the shop, and when he gets to Aziraphale, the angel is standing by the table with a most peculiar woman sat opposite him.

“Crowley, my dear,” he begins, his eyes flitting between the two people in the room. “This is Lilith. Be nice.”

the demon is left standing there, taking in the situation.

“Angel, a word.” he says, giving the woman a look so pointed she understands even through the sunglasses.

Aziraphale stammers. “But i-“ though the look on Crowley’s face is enough. Resigned, he follows him.

They move to another end of the bookshop. Crowley takes his glasses off, giving Aziraphale a very intense look.

“What the hell!” He shout-whispers. “Who the hell is that! Why does she look like that! Why is there a crow on her shoulder!” he all but yells out.

“Okay, that’s entirely unnecessary,” Aziraphale scolds him. “She walked in, saying she was sick and needed willow bark. I just made her tea and gave her some, that’s all.”

“Since when do you have willow bark in the shop?!”

“I didn’t, but she seemed to be in desperate need of it!”

Crowley sighs, exasperated. “Angel,” he says slowly, “have you stopped to ask why she needs willow bark? and why she’s dressed like that?”

Aziraphale frowns. “She’s perfectly kind, you know. You could at least try actually talking to her before passing judgement.”

“Fine.” Crowley says, frustrated. “Let’s chat, then.”

When they get back, the woman is just as she was before, if a bit healthier-looking. Crowley collapsed into the chair before her.

“So Lilith,” he draws out her name, “where are you from?”

She blinks once, twice before she responds.

“Oh, a small community, really… a garden of sorts. Not many people at all. Mostly just critters.”

It’s Crowley’s turn to blink excessively.

“Right.” he says, and, unbeknownst to her, narrows his eyes. “And where is that?”

“Oh, you know…” she makes a few vague hand gestures here, “Just… Around here…”

Crowley hums. Then he leans over the table, expression dark and threatening and takes off his glasses.

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?”

The woman should have been scared, really. She should have been petrified, scrambling to run away.

Instead, as Aziraphale watched her, he saw the look of recognition on her face.

“Oh, bollocks.”

Before anyone could say anything, the woman was pulling out some sort of item, and ingesting it. Within a split second, a cat is running away from where the woman once sat.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

im planning to add this to a fic im writing !! ill add a link when the first chapter is up <3

#good omens #good omens fic #fanfic #text post #writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity

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phantombs · 2 years ago

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aworidwithout:

This owner has a point. If he was closed, Haru would fight his way through a heavy rain storm, practically swimming in puddles up to his ankles, raindrops the size of pebbles hitting his face. Instead, he’s creating his swimming pool right inside this little medicine shop. He takes the towel and shows his thanks. He takes off his raincoat and proceeds to dry off, starting with his face. The towel has an earthy and comforting scent, but he’s unable to put it into words. “Ah, sorry for the puddle–but no wet floor signs needed, no one else is walking through the door in that weather” one bad joke deserves another. / Read more.

It’s surprising how good-natured they are. They’re returning all his jokes, his acerbic wit laughed at, and enduring Cường’s mouth? Well, that’s hard enough alone, but they’re waterlogged, dribbling, a biblical wreck. Strange. To be honest, that brews worry in this gardener. As it is, a man who’d fume at him would be tiresome but normal; yet, this man who's patting dry is the devil in flesh. They’ll kill me, he jokes. The rag smells of jasmine, yet Cường’s heavy stare smells thickly of doubt. “Rightttt,” he drawls a touch too longly. Pfft. “Well, from where I’m standing, you might as well be a whole store's worth of customers. I’ve a sense for that, you know. I can tell you're a handful."

Though why stop at one? He guesses even two.

“Am I right?”

Finally, half-way dry enough, they settle into that old, worn, and rickety stool. Still, it seems comfortable to them, he figures. All the same, their giddy disposition is jarring, humbling against their dark backsplash of doom, though he guesses that’s why they're as bright as they are, all buttery little daisies and early morning sun. Death, he knows, throws everything in perspective. He isn’t dying, no, but seeing ghosts, he gets it. “I see. Nice try, but calling me good looking won’t make me brew you up another pot of tea,” Cường deadpans. He puts his fragrant leaf tins away, catching their reflection in the glass-case table. “It's very good, isn’t it? I guess I can’t blame you for the attempt, but saving on money by sweet-talking drinks out of me won’t make you rich. Besides, you don’t seem to me the type to worry about all that. I think there’s other things you should like to have more.”

“Like...” (A full, long life?) “A better view, for starters.” Far better. Kinder. Weightily, atmosphere gone heady, the unsaid question fills the void. Oddly, a breeze flits between them. His guest spoons honey into their brew, the metal clanging inside the porcelain cup, and just then, a crash of thunder, strong enough to quiver the windows, ripples thickly through the pulsing clouds. It's hellish. Black. Cường pauses, watching the flash bleach his tiles, and turns around to shelf back his little tin. Clack. “If Jane Austen writes their romances half as well as this night sets the scene, then I'd say you should invest in better romances, too. Stop walking through rain for my tea. There’s better scenes to wander in. Ask a girl out for coffee.”

Now, Cường’s done. His attention, unkept, settles plainly and gluttonously upon them. It’s a lot. He sits in his own chair parked behind the register, and angling toward the window, smells the rain through the barest crack. “Me?” Cường says aloud. "A romantic?" They must really be sick. He’s half the mind to reach over, clamp his too-warm palm about their too-warm forehead, and diagnose them with growing madness and boiling malaria. Another man wouldn’t do so. Another man isn’t Cường. “You’re sick. Have to be,” he chides, hand nearly spilling over their nose. “What am I to you? I sell medicine, let you in, and now you think I’m some knight in shining armor? Huh. I’d hardly call running a too-cramped store anyone’s idea of romance. It’s just what I’m good at. Besides, you should hope that I stay poor. I wouldn't be here to let you in after your nightly walks otherwise. You’re new here, aren’t you?”

#aworidwithout #that makes sense...when youre in a position like haru #acknowledging reality might just well be the hardest thing to do #so walking in the rain at the dead of night and desperately scrambling for new exciting and beautiful experiences #its like an attempt to block it out. like if everything is so pretty and fun and theres so much left for me to explore..surely i was meant #to explore it! sorta deal #.mhmm...thats deep. cuong can see that. death does change people and he wonders if this happiness is acceptance or #an attempt to run from everything. until then?? he can at least joke and keep him warm #dont apologize for long tags. i long tag too. i also reply to threads even longer..oops..haha

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aetheternity · 3 years ago

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Draken, Chifuyu, Mitsuya, the Kawata twins and Kazutora in:

When they see you with your ex.

Disclaimer: E/N means Ex's name. The ex changes gender for each one to be more exclusive I'm sorry if it feels confusing. Kazutora's has mild angst but otherwise this is really sfw.

🌟 Draken

☆ He'd kinda crashed Mikey and Emma's day out. You'd told him you had something to do this weekend so what else was he supposed to do with his free time? The three of them had stopped to eat on the outdoor patio at a nice restaurant and while Emma and Mikey chatted away about something school related. Draken sat quietly sipping his tea.

☆ You'd been kinda weird when he'd asked why the two of you couldn't hang out today. You didn't even tell him what it was you were doing instead. And you always told him literally everything about your life. Sometimes unprompted.

• "Hey, isn't that Name?" Emma's voice suddenly caught his attention.

• "Who's the guy?" Mikey questioned in between bites of his food.

☆ Draken's head shot in the direction Emma had pointed in. Sure enough there you were, talking with a guy who was about the same height as Draken. Weirdly enough Draken felt like he'd seen this guy somewhere before.

• "Is that?.. E/N?"

☆ Draken squinted still staring at the two of you talking. You didn't exactly look happy but you and your ex were standing way too close. He felt a little pang in his heart.

• "Maybe she just.." Emma cut herself off. Your arm came up to wrap around your ex's neck. Pulling him in for a hug which he just as soon reciprocated.

• "Let's just go." Draken said and Emma seemed to immediately agree. As soon as Draken and Emma squeezed back into the open doors of the restaurant Mikey hightailed it in the opposite direction.

• "Dammit Mikey!"

• "Mikey!" Emma called but it was definitely too late for that.

☆ Mikey ran up behind you tapping your shoulder as Emma and Draken made their way down to the scene that was now forming.

• "Are you cheating on Ken chin?" Mikey questioned with zero hesitation. His face stern and his shoulders bared.

• "Mikey.." You said

• "I would've preferred to do this later." Draken grit. Though Mikey didn't even spare him a glance.

• "This is.. your new boyfriend right?" E/N asked

• "Name." Emma began "I know you wouldn't cheat on Draken.."

☆ You sighed putting some space between Mikey who looked two seconds away from punching someone and your ex whose confusion seemed to grow the longer this went on.

• "I'm not, I would never.." You sighed before continuing on. "He's dating my friend now and since we had some bad blood between us.. I figured I should try to get along with him since he's staying in my life. But I'm so sorry Ken Ken, I should've told you yesterday when you asked."

☆ Mikey stepped to the side as you held out your hand for Draken to take. He wasted no time pulling you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead.

• "Don't ever do this again."

• "Go out with my ex without explaining myself? Or get caught going out with my ex without explaining myself?"

• "All of it." Mikey interjected, hands placed in his pocket but his normal smile was starting to reappear.

• "Go home you two. I'm going to spend the rest of the afternoon with these two."

• "Oh? Is it because you're worried something will happen?" You asked Draken laced your finger tips slipping your hand into his pocket.

• "I was never worried, I just wanted to spend time with you." He explained

☆ Definitely should've just invited him in the first place because within a couple hours your ex and Draken have become better friends than the two of you were supposed to be.

🌟 Chifuyu

☆ Him and Takemichi decided to spend the afternoon in Chifuyu's favorite manga shop since sitting at home had become tiresome.

☆ Takemichi had organized a small pile of books around his body like a nest while Chifuyu just searched the aisles aimlessly. He didn't have a book in mind before coming here so he figured he'd pick one out from his favorite section once they got there.

• "Hey Chifuyu?" Takemichi looked up as Chifuyu flipped through one book while he held another in his hand.

• "I can't buy both of these. Takemichi which one do you think is better?"

• "Isn't that Name?" Takemichi pointed over the stack of books on his left sure enough just outside the aisle was you with a girl chatting away.

• "Who's the girl Name's talking with?" Takemichi asked looking up at Chifuyu, though Chifuyu had already ducked his way behind the bookshelf peering out of the aisle at the current scenario.

• "What the hell are you doing?" He asked coming over.

• "That's Name's ex."

• Takemichi fell in line next to Chifuyu peering over his head, "I didn't know Name dated girls too.."

• "Yeah.. it's not a big deal.." Chifuyu said as the two of you giggled about something a couple feet away.

• "If it's not a big deal why are we hiding?"

• "Shh!" Chifuyu ducked back as you and your ex walked a little ways away. "Come on let's follow them."

• "Why don't we just go talk to them?" Takemichi followed reluctantly.

• "I don't want Name to think I came here because I was stalking-"

☆ Just as Chifuyu had made it to the next aisle he tripped over a snag in the carpet causing an oblivious Takemichi to bump into him. A loud oof from both of them alerting you and your ex of their presence.

• "Chi?" You called annndd now you were coming over. "Hey Chi, what are you doing here?"

• "This is my favorite manga place." Chifuyu answered with a grunt, stepping into the aisle.

• "I know.. I just thought you and Takemichi would be at your place."

• "What's going on?.. This is what you were busy with?" He gestured between the two of you.

• "Chi." You stepped forward and Chifuyu took one step back. "You know how me and, E/N are childhood best friends and how my grandmother is sick right now? My grandmother is basically a second mother to her so she invited me out to take my mind and her's off things, She suggested we come in here and I said ok but it wasn't right of me to not tell you, I'm sorry baby."

☆ Chifuyu looked between you and your ex his eyes slowly beginning to soften.

• "I'm not mad love. It was just weird you don't normally do underhanded things like this." He pulled you into his chest for a hug and you wrapped your arms around his waist.

• "You should come with us." E/N said pointing to Chifuyu and Takemichi. "Name won't stop talking about how wonderful you are as a boyfriend anyway."

☆ A bright pink flutters over both you and Chifuyu's cheeks as Takemichi snickers behind you both.

• "Next time you can bring Hina and we can make this into an outing." Chifuyu said, poking Takemichi in his side with his elbow before wrapping his arm around your midsection.

☆ You guys probably end up staying in the store for a couple more hours honestly because if there's anything you and Chifuyu have in common it's your love for manga.

🌟 Mitsuya

☆ He'd been running errands for his mother all morning so by the time he reached the supermarket he was completely exhausted. He pushed his shopping cart through the aisles with a long sigh, checking off items as he went.

☆ He rounded the last corner glad that his day was nearly over and already thinking about what he was going to prepare for dinner when the sound of your voice caught his attention.

☆ His first assumption was that he was so tired he was imagining it but the airy ring of your laugh soon validated his suspicions. You'd told him you were hanging out with friends today after all.

☆ He grabbed the last thing on his list deciding to go say hi. He wheeled the cart directly into the next aisle walking up as you and a person he didn't recognize were having a chat with an elderly woman.

• "You two are so cute together." The woman gestured with a small smile.

• "Oh.. no we're exes and friends." E/N explained

• "Aw I'm sorry things didn't work out for you two." The woman nodded

☆ You opened your mouth to respond but Mitsuya's warm gaze caught your attention first.

• "Suya, hey!" You greeted, walking over to greet your boyfriend with a small hug.

• "That's the actual boyfriend." Your ex explained to the woman.

• "This is the friend you told me about yesterday?" Mitsuya asked looking at your ex with a blank expression.

☆ The tension in the aisle could be sliced with a knife and the lady from before quickly walked away to another side of the store.

• "We are just friends now I promise. There's nothing going on between us and they're having a party tonight that's why we're here." You gestured to your ex who awkwardly waved back. "I was going to invite you later so that you could sneak out when Luna and Mana are asleep."

• Mitsuya nodded his expression softening as he reached up to cup your cheek, "I wish you had just explained that earlier, next time just tell me I won't be angry."

• "I will, I promise." You gave him a quick peck which he reciprocated. "I'm going to head with Suya but I'll see you at the party later?" You asked turning to your ex.

• "Yeah, I'll see you then." They replied as they left.

☆ And yeah sure Mitsuya said he was cool with it but you two ended up skipping the party and after dinner you both stayed in bed all night.. (Do with that what you will. 🙃)

🌟 Nahoya/Smiley

☆ You'd only been dating Nahoya for a month and everyday you two met up at the same place after school.

☆ Sometimes (like today) he'd grab Souya/Angry and head out to meet you. Today the three of you were just supposed to grab a quick bite to eat before heading to the Toman meeting.

☆ The second the two of them had stopped their bikes Souya pointed you out where you were holding a box and talking to some stranger.

• "Who's that guy?" Nahoya's grin tightened as he watched the way the guy yapped away while you just silently listened.

• "He looks like somebody." Souya pondered for a second before his gaze fell on his brother. "I recognize his face he was in some picture on Name's wall."

☆ Nahoya didn't wait another second to storm over to the situation Souya trotting along behind with his teeth grit.

• "What the hell is this?" Nahoya grunted though his smile never wavered. The indent of anger extremely noticeable on his forehead.

• "Hoya, this is E/N he-"

• "E/N as in your ex?" Souya chimed up before you could finish.

• "You invited your ex here when you knew I was coming? What kind of shit are you pulling here Name?"

☆ His smile began to dip at the edges but it was obvious he was trying to keep up his natural facade. His fists clenching at his side, book bag carefully slipped into Souya's arms behind him.

• "I just needed my stuff back, I promise." You tried to explain, shaking the box in your possession for Nahoya to see.

• "I didn't mean to intrude on your-"

• "You shut the fuck up!"

• "Hoya!"

• "So you thought you should invite him on our date? Are you trying to piss me off?"

• You stomped your foot exasperation slowly starting to take over in your face and tone. "Hoya, I didn't invite him! I told him I was here and he's gonna be on vacation for three weeks but I needed my camera back." You hold up the camera that you'd fished from the box, Desperation thick in your voice. "So he decided to drop my stuff off with me and you just happened to get here before he could leave." You rest your fingertips on the bridge of your nose. Glad for the silence that soon arises.

• "I should go." Your ex whispers doing a little scoot around Nahoya who still hadn't completely cooled off.

• "Hey, stop it." Nahoya grips your chin pulling your shaky form closer to himself. "You should've just asked me to get your shit for you."

• You muster a little giggle, sniffling and wiping your face with the back of your hand. "You would've kicked his ass then brought me my stuff."

• "He would've deserved it."

☆ You pull Nahoya closer though he's still a little hesitant to return your affection.

• "Let me make it up to you please? You and Souya." You turn to Souya who's still holding both his and Nahoya's backpacks.

• "You're paying for lunch today." Nahoya replies pulling you into his side. He lowers his voice leaning into your ear as Souya walks ahead to his bike. "And if I ever see that jackass again I'll break his jaw."

🌟 Kazutora

☆ Baji and him had spent the day riding their motorcycles until they decided to take a break not too far away from the shrine where Toman meetings were always held.

☆ They soon found themselves parking their bikes and skipping stones by the riverbed.

• "So, why is it that you're hanging out with me instead of your partner today?" Baji asked as his stone plopped into the water.

• "They said they had something going on." Kazutora replied

• "If I was with someone that gorgeous I'd be willing to go with them but whatever."

• "Maybe you should have someone before you start dishing out relationship advice."

☆ Baji grinned wide throwing a soft punch which Kazutora caught with a snicker pretending to right hook him. It soon lead into a chase with Baji dodging all of Kazutora's playful jabs walking backwards and making sound effects to go along with each swipe of his fists.

☆ Baji grabbed both of Kazutora's fists pushing him back until he nearly tumbled onto his ass. His laugh unbridled in its volume.

• "Come here Kazutora I'll show you how to throw a real punch."

• "What the fuck.." Kazutora's gaze followed two people walking along the path that went just overhead.

☆ Baji's head whipped around to track Kazutora's gaze stopping on the two people walking side by side almost out of sight at this point.

• "Is that-" Kazutora was nearly gone by the time Baji had processed the words. "Hey!" He called out running to catch up but Kazutora had already sprinted to the top of the bank, jogging along to catch up to the people they'd spotted.

• "Name!" His voice boomed closing the distance scarily quick.

☆ You'd stopped dead in your tracks, turning to face the chilling look in your boyfriend's eyes as he stood before you. Baji right behind and practically out of breath.

• "Who is that?" Kazutora pointed

• "Tora.. baby don't freak out.."

☆ His earring clinked against his face as he stared into your eyes.

• "Are you leaving me now? Is that it?"

• "Tora!" You huff, putting your hands out.

• "Kazutora.." Baji called out already sensing the weight of the situation.

• "She's my ex but listen-"

• "So you are cheating on me.." Kazutora's jaw locks and when you reach out for his sleeves with pleas of his name he just slaps your arms away.

☆ When he leaves he runs for his bike. His leg anchored over the side already gripping the handle bars tightly when Baji's loud scream of his name rips through the air.

☆ He's got his bike out of park but just as he starts to drive away you dash out from nowhere and yank his handle bar.

• "Dammit Tora listen to me!!" You beg, he can clearly see the beginnings of tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you hold onto the hand still clutching his handlebars.

• "What could you possibly say? That it didn't mean anything? That you love me?!"

• "Yes! I do love you! You mean everything to me! I needed to be with E/N today because her mom went missing a couple days ago! The woman that took me in and loved me all my life is out there somewhere and no one knows anything about it so dammit Kazutora if you love me even half as much as I love you, don't leave me right now!"

☆ You latched onto his jacket letting your loud sobs fill the now quiet air.

• "You told me.. You love me.." His whispered tone barely reaches your ears as you continue to choke on your own tears.

• "I.. love you.. Tora.." You hiccuped

☆ His arms wrapped gently around your waist, face deep in the crook of your neck as you slowly began to relax.

• "I'm sorry." You felt him tremble as he held you closer than he ever had before. "I love you.." He reciprocated. "I'm here.."

🌟 Souya/Angry

☆ Souya tended to listen more than you realized. Like when you go on and on about a band you absolutely adore to the point where he stays up until almost 12 am to snag tickets for the two of you to go see them on the weekend. And this was that weekend.

☆ He'd been nearly bursting with excitement over it and now he could finally surprise you with the news after holding it in for a solid week.

☆ He parked his bike across the street from your house, reaching into his jacket pocket for the umpteenth time to check that both tickets were there. After a few more minutes of preparing, blowing into his hand to check his breath, smoothing his sweaty hands over his jacket. He rung your doorbell. The heel of his toe tapping against the floor as he waited for you to answer.

☆ When the door finally opened a person much taller than Souya answered.

• "Yup." The person pursed their lips one hand on the tool belt wrapped around their waist. For a second Souya pondered if he'd somehow rung the wrong doorbell until he looked at the number in plain view embellished on your door front.

• "Who are you?" It definitely came off more aggressive thanks to Angry's naturally violent resting face.

☆ Before the person could answer you came bounding down the stairs, pulling the door open wider.

• "Why the hell would you answer my door?" You spit at the person standing beside you as you pull your boyfriend inside, shutting the door behind him.

• "I think you mean thank you."

• "Fuck off." You tell the person who was already walking back to the kitchen.

☆ The naturally angry imprint on Souya's face seems to deepen as he makes eye contact with you.

• "I wish you had called." You sighed, tugging Souya into the living room by his jacket sleeves.

• "Who the hell is that?"

• "You remember how I said my ex is in the remodeling business.."

• "That's your ex?"

• "Yes but listen! If I work with him I can get a discount, I just want that wall taken out to open up the space a bit more." You gesture to the kitchen where your ex is currently examining the wall. "I would've told you sooner but between my friend coaxing me into doing this remodel and that drunk night with you and Nahoya it was hard to find time."

☆ Souya dipped his hands into his pockets, staring blankly into the distance. His brow furrowed deeper than normal and his foot tapped against the hardwood.

• "If you're uncomfortable with this I'll get someone else.."

• "Get someone else."

• "Wait before you answer." You scoot closer to your still ticked boyfriend and he makes eye contact with you again. "This kind of remodel normally costs way more than the bargain I'm getting with them."

☆ Souya blinked blankly at you.

• "Sou plllleeeeaaasssee, you can be here whenever they are." You gesture to the kitchen.

• "No I can't I have a job."

• "Fine.. I'll call you the entire time." He sighed with a roll of his eyes. And you rubbed both his arms with a long groan of his name. "How about this, I bring you and them to dinner. Once you see how disinterested I am you might be more for it."

• "Not worried about you, I'm worried about them." His forehead rubbed against yours and you giggled.

• "I promise I only love you."

• "Would you love me more if I got tickets to your favorite band for today?"

• "I'm never leaving you." You proclaim wrapping your arms tightly around Souya's midsection. "That's a proposal by the way we're engaged now. I don't make the rules."

• "E/N I'm engaged now!" You yell towards the kitchen.

• "I heard, congrats!" They yelled back

☆ Souya just scoffed but his cheeks bloomed into the deepest shade of red as he walked upstairs with you to your bedroom to help you pick out an outfit for the concert.

#gender netural reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #draken x reader #chifuyu x reader #mitsuya x reader #nahoya x reader #kazutora x reader #souya x reader #draken hcs #chifuyu hcs #mitsuya hcs #nahoya headcanons #nahoya hcs #kazutora hcs #souya hcs #souya headcanons #Kazutora when he sees you with your ex: This is all Mikey's fault

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inhuman-obey-me · 4 years ago

Note

Excuse me! it’s just me, this blog’s stalker because your works amazing. I kinda am in love with your demon’s nature series. I if I could request something. Could you possible do MC seeing the brothers do something that is “demonic”. Similar to what happens in the series. Thank you!!!!

Hello!! Haha, thank you -- we’re so glad you like our content! ;u;

And I’m glad that you enjoy the Demon’s Nature series! It’s been a lot of fun to write.

Sorry this took a bit! I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be something with one of the brothers or all of them, so I ended up doing little short blurbs for each of the brothers and MC accidentally catching them doing something demonic/violent. Tried to keep them all pretty short, which was hard.

[Mod Cosmos]

MC accidentally catching the Demon Brothers being Demonic/Violent

content warning: blood/gore, body horror (especially in Beel’s), and general violence

Note: This is through the perspective of an MC that knows that the demons do their thing, but perhaps doesn't want to see it happening in front of them.

LUCIFER

You were supposed to go shopping together after meetings for the day were finished, and he had told you to just wait an additional thirty minutes so that he could finish up some business. Thirty minutes passed, but there was still no word from him, so you decide you’ll go and see what was holding that workaholic up. You soon realize that was a mistake.

You hear muffled cries, and a familiar deep voice. Cautiously, you approach the source of these sounds -- a room located off a dark corridor. You didn’t think there were any classrooms here, and your curiosity got the better of you -- so you approach the door, peeking through the crack. You recognize the intimidating silhouette and --- there’s blood. There was another figure in the room, their body limp on the ground in a puddle of red, the mighty first-born’s claws tearing through flesh. A loss of balance in your surprise results in you tumbling into the room, earning a sharp turn from Lucifer, whose crimson eyes were wide in surprise. His wings spread out to try and shield the unsavory scene from you.

“MC, you were supposed to wait for me.” His voice is stern, but there’s a gentleness to it. He sees the queasy look on your face, and decides he can put this torment to an end. With a swift motion, he fully blocks your line of sight before slitting the lesser demon’s throat. He then turns back to you, lightly embracing your body with black feathers. His voice is soft as he did not want to frighten you. “I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to see that. Let’s get you home, shall we? I’ll make you some tea.”

MAMMON

It had just been a scratch. A low-level demon had taken a swipe at you in passing, but hadn’t been able to cut too deep. Mammon insisted he was just running off to get a bandaid after you insisted he didn’t need to go after the other demon. He said that he’d be right back--”I’m just gettin’ a bandage, I swear!”-- and told you not to move an inch. But this bandage quest was taking longer than it should have, so you go after him, pressing a loose cloth against your wound. And there he was, having cornered the offending demon. He seems to be staking the demon in the arm with a sharp metal object, speaking in a tongue you couldn’t understand.

You hadn’t even realized you had dropped the Majolish bag from your hand, not until it hit the ground with a thud and Mammon whipped around to see you there. A flash of guilt appears on his features, his eyes going between you and the lowly demon. He drops them, though he can’t resist one more swift kick to their chest before running back to you.

“I told ya I’d be right back!” He’s about to cup your face in his hands, but retracts them as he realizes they’re covered in blood. “Uh, okay, let’s go get that,” he motions to your injury, “...taken care of, yeah?” He mumbles a sorry as he picks up the bag you dropped before ushering you away from the scene, promising he’d do whatever he needed to do to make up for having to witness it.

LEVIATHAN

You’re browsing games at a shop, having tagged along with Leviathan who had been raving about a new release. At one point, however, Leviathan had vanished from your side. You now realize it’s been … quite some time, actually. You wander about the store, unable to find him anywhere. Did he step outside? You decide to check, missing the anxious glance from the clerk behind the counter.

You hear some sounds from the alley by the shop. Is that … someone choking? Worried, you round the corner to make sure whoever it was is okay -- only to see the one doing the strangling was Leviathan himself. He had his tail tightly wrapped around the other demon’s throat, and … what, what was that inky substance leaking from their eyes? Leviathan caught your shadow against the alley wall, turning to you with a slightly panicked look.

“M-MC!” His tail quickly slithered off and away from the demon’s throat, leaving them to collapse to the ground. He’s suddenly at your side, hands on your shoulders as he turns you around and makes you walk out of the alley with him, murmuring something about how the venom will take care of the rest. “S-sorry about that, MC. You look a little sick … let’s get that game and go home and play, okay?”

SATAN

You had been ambling through an aisle in the grand Royal Library, wondering what random book you should pick up next to flip through idly. Satan had wanted to spend a quiet day reading and studying together, to which you readily obliged. But it was easy to forget just how large the Royal Library was -- what floor were you on again? -- and you wonder if you should head back to where the two of you had set up. Then you suddenly hear a distant crash. It seemed to be coming from one of the meeting rooms at the back, and you couldn’t help but want to take a peek to see what had happened.

“Fuck you!” You knew that voice, and you knew that anger. There was a muffled yell, and what sounded like shattering glass. Then there’s a chilling, mocking laughter, and you can feel the goosebumps starting to cover your skin. You nervously approach the slightly ajar door, and there he is, his tail impaling another demon with its sharp ridges. Oh, there is fury burning in those eyes -- ones that shift to land on you, and that glowing fury is replaced with exasperation.

“MC!” Your name comes out as a hiss, but he quickly tosses the other demon, slamming them into the wall. “You…” He’s unsure what to say, his wrath calming at the sight of you, especially with that look on your face. “I … I’m sorry, I just had to take care of something. Please, let’s go. We can talk about this later.”

ASMODEUS

The music is loud, the drinks are pouring, and you’re having an absolutely wonderful night out clubbing with Asmodeus. You were returning from the bar with two drinks in hand for the both of you, thanking one of the security guards on your way for managing the crowd of fans that had now dispersed, only to find that Asmodeus was not to be found at your table. He had left a note-- “BRB! ♡”--with lipstick on a napkin. You waited, sipping your drink as you demon watched from your seat. Some time passes, and you realize you’ve finished your drink a bit more quickly than intended. There’s still no sign of him, so you might as well go get another.

On the way to the bar, however, you pass by what you assumed was the hall to the restrooms, and you hear a desperate “I’m sorry!” cutting through the heavy bass. Should you be concerned? Well, you decide to at least be nosy, so you slip into the hall to see what was going on -- and are met with the sight of Asmodeus holding a heart he had carved out of some poor demon’s chest. In your shock, your empty glass slips through your fingers and crashes to the floor, earning your demon’s attention.

“Oh, MC!” Despite his surprise to see you, he gives you a smile -- one that gives you chills as you see blood spattered on his face. “Ah, what a mess…” He lets the lesser demon slide to the floor, debating on what to do with the organ in hand, but hides it behind his back for now, coming over to place a quick kiss on your cheek. “Sorry about that, darling. I’m just going to go clean up, so wait for me at the table, ‘kay?”

BEELZEBUB

You had agreed to go with him to Madame Scream’s after finishing up classes for the day, but he was running late. He’s not picking up any calls, either, so you decide to go to where his last class would have been -- maybe they were just running way over, and he hadn’t realized the time? The hall is quiet, and you end up reaching an empty classroom. Walking back out, you decide to try calling him again. Ring, ring. After a moment, you realize you can hear Beelzebub’s ringtone in the distance, and you follow your ears to where his D.D.D. and ultimately he himself must be.

You weren’t prepared for what you saw next. A head of bright orange hair buried in a lesser demon’s abdomen, the sound of squelching and slurping from his feasting sounding so much more insidious than usual.

“Beel!” You can’t help but cry out his name in shock, which causes him to jolt upright -- with intestines still hanging from his mouth. Oh, you were going to be sick …

“MC … sorry, Lucifer always says I need to work on my table manners … “ He gulps down what was left hanging, but his eyes widen when it registers just who caught him in the act. “Oh, uh, guess that’s not the point, huh … “ He sheepishly wipes at his mouth with some torn cloth that you can only assume came from his victim, standing up and walking around to block your view of the mangled body. “I’ll clean this up, and then … well, we can do whatever you want to do. Sorry, MC …”

BELPHEGOR

You’re looking around for where Belphegor could possibly be napping. Beelzebub had to go to Fangol practice and asked that you make sure his twin got home, as he had seemed even more tired today than usual. He’s not in the Western Courtyard, so you head to the Southern Courtyard next. You think you remember him saying that was one of his favorite spots…

You perk up as you spot the ever-familiar cow patterned pillow, but you fail to see the demon that was usually attached to it. Peering around the area, worry starts to set in -- and then you hear a scream. It certainly didn’t belong to Belphegor, but the gears in your mind start turning and you run to where the scream came from. Of course, no one else was around here -- it wasn’t the busiest area on campus in the first place. Turning a corner, you see just what you feared -- Belphegor had his claws at another demon’s throat, his barbed tail wrapped around their body and squeezing them tight. You feel weak, the scenario a bit too close for comfort as you recall what he had done to you in the past.

“MC?” Belphegor turned to see you, his eyes wide. He must have sensed your presence at some point, or maybe your heart was pounding much louder than you realized. He drops the other demon, growling something you can’t make out to them, and then slowly approaches you. He sees you tense up, causing him to stop in his tracks. He averts his gaze, not wanting to meet your eyes as he tries to figure out what to say. “I just … had to deal with something. You … you can head on home first, if you want. I understand.”

#obey-mes-treasure #obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #gn!reader #gn!mc #demons being demons #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos #ask and ye shall be answered

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miekasa · 4 years ago

Note

any dad!levi hcs for father’s day today🥺🤲🏽

Absolutely!! I’ll do this I guess using the kids I have for him in my parent au? If you’ve read that, you know about Holden, but there are two more so prepare to meet them :’) happy father’s day to Levi <33

To begin with, you guys would plan to have your kids (to the best of your abilities; you were intentionally trying to have kids at a time when you both knew you were ready for them.

Although accidents to do happen, and Levi would welcome an unplanned child all the same; that being said, if you’re both want a family, you would have discussed it beforehand (which is to a degree, is a lot about mental preparation for himself).

In his perfect world, he’d have two daughters. They’d be equal parts him and you, and they’d be quiet and curious and lovely and life would be good. He’d spend his days with you and his two tiny daughters, raising his little family and doing all he could for his favorite girls.

So, naturally, he does get two daughters, but also a son in between; and the latter two kids are far from easy in their own unique ways lmfao

You might have already met Holden, and she’s the oldest in my dad Levi au, and the most like him. Levi’s dark hair, his grey eyes, his overall unimpressed visage, his knack for cleanliness and organization—down to the way she holds her sippy cups, she’s damn near Levi’s doppleganger.

Holden is somewhere between 3.5-4 years old before you have your second kid, and in that time is when Levi confirms he thinks he was cut out to be a certified Girl Dad.

Both Levi and Holden take quality father-daughter time very seriously. It’s impossible to change plans once they’re set: “Daddy, you promised we would go to the famer’s market on Sunday. You pinky promised.” And Levi wouldn’t dare break a pinky promise, so he makes time for it.

Levi doesn’t play favorites with his kids, but there is something special about Holden as his first born. He’s constantly in awe of just how much she resembles him. Four years into raising her and it’s still hard to wrap his head around.

Much to his chagrin, Hange and Eren are Holden’s favorite adults. Maybe Levi understands the admiration for Hange, but Eren... come on, Holden, you’re breaking his heart at that point.

It’s almost out of character for your daughter to be so openly affectionate about someone outside of your immediate family, but she really loves having Eren as a babysitter; and you know she’s playing favorites, because she remains neutral on Armin, even though he and Eren always babysit as a duo.

She doesn’t have a favorite grandparent, but Kenny spoils her the most. Levi tells him he shouldn’t, but when has Kenny ever listened to Levi. The man isn’t a fan of kids, but he thinks yours and Levi’s are pretty cool, and Holden is about the coolest 4 year old he could ever meet.

When she was learning to walk, Levi’s favorite thing was holding her little hand and guiding her around. Even now, when she can stand perfectly fine on her own two feet, Levi loves it when she reaches for his hand; Holden is a pretty independent kid, even at 4 years old, so Levi never takes affection from her for granted.

They’re best friends and Holden goes everywhere with him. Their favorite father-daughter activity is going to the grocery store, and Levi lets Holden point to and assess her favorite fruits and veggies while she sits happily in the shopping cart.

Sometimes there are other parents struggling with a kid throwing a temper tantrum. Levi simply clicks his teeth, while Holden shakes her little head. “That’s pretty embarassing, daddy,” she says, looking at the poor parent with an unamused glare that rivals Levi’s. He nods and pushes the cart past the scene, “Tell me about it, kid.”

Your second kid is a boy, and he looks more like you than Levi, but manages to have Levi’s signature hair color and pout when things aren’t going his way.

He comes as a shock to both you and Levi, because after your ultrasound, you were told you were having another girl. Turns out, they’d accidentally mixed up your files, and you were having a boy instead, which you do not find out until your mid-term check up a few months later. Cue Levi buffering like an old computer.

Kiaan is welcomed all the same, even tho Levi is still in disbelief; he was mentally preparing to have another daughter on his hands. He puts more pressure on himself with his son; not that he wasn’t trying his best to be a parent to Holden, but any insecurities he might have about being a good come out when your son is born, because Levi has no “man of the house” example to follow from.

You reassure him that your son will turn out to be just fine, and raising him the way you raised Holden, and would have raised another daughter is perfectly acceptable. Of course Levi rises to the occasion after the initial shock; he’s determined to be the dad to his son that he never had.

Where Holden is more reserved, Kiaan likes to talk and babble about anything whenever and wherever he can, to whoever is around. It’s not uncommon for you or Levi to find your son completely entertained by telling a story out loud to himself while playing with his toys.

Loves to rope Levi into making his toys interact and have “conversations” with each other, and Kiaan genuinely thinks his dad is hilarious, even if he doesn’t completely understand what he’s saying. It always makes Levi smile to hear Kiaan try and copy the bass and tone of his voice when he’s mocking him.

Kiaan loves messing with his dad, and Levi’s all talk, so of course he lets him. He’ll be on a Zoom meeting for work, and Kiaan will be sat in his lap, running little toy cars across the desk in front of him, or tugging on Levi’s hair, and Levi just lets him. It makes quite the cute sight, and Hange has definitely taken a few screen recordings.

That being said, your son is more of a mama’s boy than anything. Kiaan loves messing with Levi, but if you’re in the room, there’s a 95% chance he’ll be on your lap or at your side shadowing whatever you’re doing.

Kiaan is a universal copycat tho, so whatever you, Levi, or Holden say or do, he tries for himself. This makes him especially susceptible to repeating Levi’s foul language and bad habits than Holden. (“Kiaan, you can’t sleep on the chair, it’s not good for your back.” “But daddy sleeps on the chairs sometimes!” “...Alright kid, you got me there.”)

He’s a very loving kid with his words, too, always thanking people and proclaiming his love, so he doesn’t exactly have a “favorite” adult or babysitter, but he does get particularly excited when Erwin or Farlan come around. He feels especially tall when Erwin lets him sit on his shoulders, and Farlan always entertains his story-telling.

He’s a sucker for his grandma though, and gives Kuchel a million kisses whenever she comes around. Does not let go over her for the entire time she’s over at your house, and will sit on her lap throughout dinner.

The most affectionate child, so where Holden only likes holding hands, Kiaan loves cuddling with you and Levi, and likes to be held whenever possible. Levi spoils him a little too much, and more often than not, if you’re walking outside for more than two hours, Kiaan will end up on Levi’s shoulders or in your arms.

Your last kid is another girl, and, yeah she’s just a baby no older than a few months, but Levi can’t help but think she’s especially tiny, and he can’t help but to look at her and hold her whenever possible. Your baby girl also leaves Levi a little dumbstruck because she manages to look like a combination of you and his mother.

As she grows, it becomes apparent that you’ve got another daddy’s girl on your hands. Doesn’t matter if you’re literally breast feeding her, Aria will throw a tantrum if she’s separated from Levi for more than an hour.

The good news is, her sleep cycle is as irregular as Levi’s, so he’s got someone to keep him company when everyone else has gone to bed for the evening. Unfortunately, this also means Aria naps a lot during the day, which leaves Levi a little bored since Holden is old enough to be in school full-time, and Kiaan is gone for at least a portion of the day.

So, he would never tell you, but sometimes he wakes Aria up from her naps just a little bit early to spend more time with her (and cure his boredom). Having an infant trying to grab at his hair with her ravioli sized baby fists while he tries to cook lunch certainly makes the task more difficult, but it also adds welcomed color to his day.

You and Levi have to hold Aria constantly when she’s awake or else she’ll cry (although, if you leave her in the arms of her siblings, she does settle down, too); that, or she’ll find her tiny baby hands somewhere they shouldn’t be. Like dipped in a jar of strawberry jam. Or peanut butter. Or both.

Levi talks to his kids like he would any other adult, so it’s not uncommon to find him brewing tea with a baby strapped to his chest, narrating the steps to good tea-making out loud to her for her to hear. He swears she can understand him, and he attributes Holden and Kiaan’s growing vocabularies, and the early ages at which they started speaking to this.

Aria will be in her little chest strap thing while Levi’s cooking dinner, and he’ll look down at her like, “Alright, we’re gonna julienne your carrots today. Yesterday we cubed them, but you’ve got grabby hands, so this will give you more room to work with.”

Kiaan loves holding Aria and honestly just being around her, and you and Levi think it’s adorable how he loves to play with her, and how he knows to be gentle with her. He shares a room with her, and loves sharing his bedtime story times, so you or Levi will read them to sleep together.

Holden isn’t crazy about babies, but she’s a good older sister, and Aria seems to be obsessed with her. She crawls and scoots towards her if given the opportunity, and Holden will always look to you or Levi before attempting to hold or lift her up, as if asking permission. She’ll pat Aria’s head to get her to stop crying, or let her play with her hands.

Levi thinks one of the best parts about being a dad is seeing the different dynamics and relationships between your kids. Holden isn’t most physically or verbally affectionate, but she’s still compassionate, and Kiaan looks up to her; and Kiaan is the perfect middle ground, knowing when it’s appropriate to bother (affectionate) Holden, and when to give her space, and curiously hovers around his baby sister, too.

#anonymous #dad levi dad levi dad levi dad levi!!!!!!!!#levi x reader #levi fluff #aot x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi smut #aot imagines

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wizkiddx · 3 years ago

Text

living and reviving II

yep when I said three parts I think I meant 4 oops

summary: an overdue conversation that has to happen - like it or not

warnings: cheating, swearing, pregnancy talk, lots more angst, think thats it?

tomhollandxreader

/////////////////////// prev

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

That had been three weeks ago.

And it still fucking hurt like hell.

It had ended up that Yamna had taken you back to hers, where you had stayed for a couple nights. During that couple of days, Tom had tried. He had tried to apologise, tried to explain, tried to fix things. But it just wasn’t that easy.

Whatever he said, it didn’t take back from the fact that he had in that moment meant it. So no amount of sorrys could ever take that back.

After everyone had realised just how serious their situation was, Tom had moved out of your shared flat - so you could at least be in the place you were comfortable. Afterall the nursery was built in your flat and clearly it was you doing all the baby stuff for the moment. Thankfully Yamna, having been cut loose so without job, offered to move in with you. Which was probably the only thing keeping you going.

Well, that and ben and jerrys ‘phish food’. Honestly the shop must think you’re running some sort of ice cream black market at the rate you’re getting through their tubs.

Everyone kept parroting that it wasn’t good for the baby. Too much ice cream . Too much heavy lifting. Too much stress.

And yes, it probably was. But that was out of your control . The stress and lack of man in the household meant you had to do the heavy lifting of shopping from the car up the stairs. Shopping meaning ice cream, which you only depended on so much because of the stress.

It was a vicious cycle of hell.

Even Yamna, the person you were relying on keeping you sane had started walking on eggshells. It was as though you were literally about to pop, she always had to have at least half an eye on you. You were even banned from locking the toilet door - just in case.

It felt like you were a captive animal, people kept coming to observe you, giving sad looks before gleeing the scene.

You hadn’t been sleeping well either. Of course, being 3 weeks of your due date didn’t help - but neither did the lack of Tom. In fact, for the first time since shit had hit the fan, you had actually been managing to get some decent sleep when Yamna knocked on your bedroom door, quietly calling your name.

“I’m asleep” Groaning, you pulled the covers further over your head, praying to god that she’d leave you alone. But of course that wasn’t happening, she just lightly chuckled before you felt the bed dip - she had perched on the edge… Toms side.

“You never normally sleep talk.”

“I’m never normally this sleep deprived.” She sighed, whilst you still stubbornly kept your eyes closed.

“I’m sorry I woke you…. but this is important.”

“What?” Almost grunting, you threw the covers down looking up at her in anticipation. That was another thing about pregnancy - you were always on high alert, always worried.

“Toms here.”

“Tell him to f off.” Quickly you stopped caring about what your bestmate had to say.

“He’s saying that he’s the little ones dad and that he deserves to be involved and…. and I think I might agree.”

“I deserve a boyfriend who stays loyal to me so clearly neither of us are getting what we want.” You weren’t angry at Yamna and snapping at her wasn’t the answer. And yet you still did it.

“Y/n….I love you and I am completely on your side. I just think that maybe, perhaps, you should at least manage to be civil before baby arrives. Otherwise… thats going to be a lot to deal with all at once.”

It was your turn to sigh, deep and heavy (or at least as deep as the baby let). Most infuriatingly she was right. The conversation had to happen at some point. With a baby there too it would only be even more traumatic.

“He’s here now?” It only dawned on you how broken you actually sounded when the words croaked out of you.

“Yeh hunny… I didn’t let him inside so he’s standing outside the door looking like a dickhead right now.” The image cheered you up a little, enough to sit up in bed and be wrapped in Yamna’s arms. Her actions said it all, she really only meant the best for you and knew how hard this would be. After a moment she leant back. “I almost considered calling the paps so they could get a picture and label him as a groveling dick.”

“You should of.” Of course you didn’t mean it, but the answer had you both laughing. It took a minute to calm down before she changed subject slightly.

“You want me to make myself scarce? I can hide in my room or go to the shops or-“

“Text the guy from the bar - you deserve a night off ‘babysitting Y/n’ duties.”

“I’m not babys-“

“Yes you are. Go out with him and have some fun, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeh”

That was a bare face lie - but Yamna had been almost too good to you. She really really needed a break. Especially as the current plan was she’d be helping with the newborn too. Right now you wouldn’t have wished a baby on yourself - never mind your best mate.

“Okay, get ready then babe - but do it slowly, leave him waiting outside in the cold for as long as possible.”

“Obviously.” You laughed, hauling yourself out of bed, where she gave you one more encouraging hug before leaving.

After hearing Yamna leave, and brushing your hair and throwing on a new pair of trakkies and hoodie, you slowly walked towards the door. It felt as though impending doom were on the other side and every fibre of you wanted to scream and run the other way. But it just had to happen at some point. Why not now?

With a final sharp exhale, attempting to pull yourself together, you opened the door. Immediately your heart sank, seeing nothing. Had you really been that long? And even so, was a 10 minute wait enough for him to give up? You could already feel the hormonal pregnancy tears starting to spring, when a grunt drew your attention.

What you hadn’t considered was the fact Tom was ready to camp out, sitting on the floor beside your door. Springing to his feet, he seemed shocked you’d actually opened the door - makes two of you. When Yamna left she had told him you were coming, but seeing really is believing.

“Y/n! I-I… I wasn’t sure you were ever going to answer.”

“You and me both.” You replied dryly, still leaning on the door. “Do you er…. do you want to come in?” Again he seemed shocked, as though he wasn’t sure you meant it.

“Is that-that okay?” Shrugging you just nodded, stepping back so he could get in. He did pay half the mortgage afterall.

“You want a drink?” He quickly declined your offer, not vocally but instead rushing past you to the kitchen and turning the kettle on himself.

“Your the pregnant one. Go chill on the sofa, I’ll bring you a cuppa.”

And a bit taken a back by his forcefulness you followed instructions, from the sofa watching how effortlessly he danced round the kitchen. It wasn’t shocking, it was technically his kitchen too. But seeing him there felt so alien, almost transporting you back to much much simpler times. Seemed a lifetime ago.

After a couple of minutes, he rounded the sofa with a hot chocolate in one hand for you (because caffiene is bad for the baby) and a cup of Yorkshire tea in the other.

“So… how have you been?”

“Ate a lot of ben and jerrys” You answered without really answering, except he knew you all too well.

“That bad?” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his brow “how about the baby?”

“I don’t tend to carry an ultrasound on me but she’s been keeping me up all night kicking - so normal I guess.”

“Thats good” He spoke before realising what he said. “Sorry no I um-I don’t mean it like that!” You all but laughed in the face of his flusteredness, only making the tips of his ears go pinker.

“I assume you had something to say and that you came here for a reason rather than just pity me?”

“I want to make things right Y/n - I-I mean your having my kid.”

“OUR kid”

“ Exactly! And-and I love you too and-“

“Bullshit” You may have murmured it under your breath but you had intended for him to hear.

“Oh come one Y/n, you know that!”

It was like the man was asking to be yelled at.

“Don’t sit there trying to patronise me! I THOUGHT i knew it but then I saw you all over another girl. So yes, I’m calling bullshit.”

“Ugh I… If your not going to even try to hear me out then…”

“Then what Tom? You gonna kick me out. I mean this is your flat after all! Maybe you’d like to dump the mother of your unborn child homeless on the street and forget about us - how’d that sound? I’m sure your fans would blindly applaud you.”

“Listen! Please would you just listen to me.” His voice was loud and tone harsh, making you flinch a little. Not because you were ever worried he’d hurt you - but how this wave of uncomfort shuddered through your body, baby even squirming in discontent. So focused on that you just nodded, shifting back into the sofa.

Tom had noticed your reaction and seeing you seemingly scared of him like that, well it broke his heart. Even more.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to shout, I just…. I really need to try and fix this.” He leaned closer, letting out a thankful breath when you just nodded, as if to say go on.

“I’ve really really missed you… these past couple of weeks I’ve never felt so gulity in my life. Not because of what I did! Well yeh that but-but more how much it hurt you and-“

“Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but let out that little curse of pain as a new wave of pain, which seemed to originate from your lower back, shuddered through you. Tom looked up from where his eyes had been nervously wringing his palms whilst he spoke. Rubbing a hand over your belly you shook your head and motioned for him to continue.

She was just kicking really really hard. Right?

“Uhm yeh so I just wanted to properly tell you everything that happened that night so at least we are on the same page? A-And I’m not going to try and use this an excuse but I had been drinking so-“

Seemingly baby disliked the end of that sentence too, causing another rippling wave to echo through your body, feeling as though a band was pressing tightly round your stomach. With another small curse it forced you to stand up, in the hope that’d ease her. Clearly she was as done with his shit as you were.

“Need a water.” You muttered, already waddling to the kitchen, where you heard Tom follow you immediately - like an inpatient dog.

“Y/n sit down I can-“

He was silenced by you freezing and grabbing his arm tightly - a physical contact he hadn’t been expecting from you.

“Tom… get your phone.” You spoke slowly, still not having dared to have moved an inch - fingers almost white from how tightly you were squeezing his forearm.

“Wha-are you-are you okay?”

“I think my waters just broke. Get the phone. Now.”

~~~ feedback is really appreciated + would love to know what u think as still in the process of writing so can be guided / helped by asks !!! ~~~

taglist: @maraudersandco @@minejungwoo @sippin-on-tea @thegirlintheswivelchair @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @elishi03

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom x reader #peter parkqueue #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #tomholland #dad!tom #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x pregnant!reader #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland fluff

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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 3 years ago

Text

hear those bells ring: chapter 2 (a deaf!bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Reader has to deal with the aftermath of Dynamight exploding through her window and trying to bleed out on her floor.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood, descriptions of gore, and adult language.

A/N: Here’s chapter two, hope you enjoy! ~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

AO3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Chaos. You intellectually knew the word, in several languages in fact, but nothing could have ever prepared you for the reality of it.

Information assaulted your senses in a deluge. The gust of cold air whistling through the broken window, raking icy fingers down your exposed arms. The bright flare of flames, even behind your clenched eyelids. The dissonant, haunting wails of several car alarms, each one just a second out of sync with the next, barely audible over the loud ringing in your ears. The taste of ash, gritty on your tongue as you sucked in heaving, panting breaths. The sharp smell of smoke and something… sweeter. Like caramelizing sugar.

The sweet scent, incongruous with every other heinous detail, seemed to snap you fully back into your body, and your eyes flew open with a gasp.

You were curled up in a tight ball below your now broken window, and you gaped at your ruined apartment. The lights were out, so the only illumination you had to see by were the flames behind you on the street, but it was enough.

It looked like a tornado had torn through your home. The remnants of your window and wall—broken bits of glass, wood, and plaster—covered everything in sight in a fine layer of white dust. Your sewing desk/kitchen table was in splinters, and even with the dancing shadows, you had the distant thought that the dress you’d just finished mending was most definitely ruined.

Then someone shouted outside on the street, and you felt it like a sledgehammer to the skull.

Oh, god. The villain. The heroes.

You scrambled up onto your knees, hissing when shards of glass tore through your sweatpants and bit into your skin. You’d worry about that later. For now, you focused on getting to your feet…

And not falling out of the gaping hole in your apartment wall.

You stumbled back a few steps from the edge, stabilizing yourself on one of your kitchen chairs that seemed to have survived the blast. The smoke was thicker now that you were off the floor, and you coughed and squinted against the hot, irritating air.

The street in front of you was a warzone.

The windows in the building across from you were all blown out, the empty frames like black gaping voids. The building housed a café/tea shop owned by Mr. and Mrs. Yamato, and you felt a small modicum of relief at the knowledge that they didn’t live above the shop like you did with yours. They lived in a neighborhood not too far away, and they wouldn’t be happy when they came to open in the morning, but at least they were safe.

Safe…

“Mr. Takeyoshi!” you gasped as you remembered your neighbor. He’d been standing on the street and nearly attacked by the villain, but a blond hero had pushed the middle-aged man out of the way.

Your eyes scoured the street as you leaned forward as much as you dared, and just as your heart was beginning to clench, you spotted him. Mr. Takeyoshi was sitting on the curb across the street and about four storefronts down, hunched over with his head in his hands. Two heroes stood above him and seemed to be tending to him, and all three of the men looked whole for the most part.

“God.” You exhaled shakily, your heart still stuttering in your chest, and then movement in your peripherals caught your attention.

One hero seemed to possess a water quirk, and she was quickly working to spray down the numerous small fires still flickering up and down the road. As you watched her work, you realized the street wasn’t as badly demolished as you first assumed. It was still pretty wrecked—all of the asphalt was cracked and even just missing in some places—but aside from broken windows, the rest of the shops seemed mostly intact. The worst of the damage was centered just in front of your apartment, and as your gaze flickered over the large crater in front of you, you saw another two heroes dragging a third body out of the pit.

The villain.

The hero with the water quirk paused in spraying down the smoking remains of a car and turned to shout something at the other heroes. You couldn’t hear what she said over the persistent ringing in your hears, and you frowned as you focused your own quirk toward your ears.

In your hopped-up-on-adrenaline state, you didn’t even notice the energy dip, and a moment later, your hearing returned with a loud pop. Thankfully, all of the car alarms seemed to have been cut, so you could hear the heroes pretty well.

“—still alive,” a tall hero in a red and purple suit said. You didn’t recognize him. “He’s pretty beat up, but he’ll make it.”

“Great,” the water quirk hero sighed. “Let him be the cops’ problem now.”

As if on cue, you could hear a siren start up in the distant, slowly moving closer.

The threat was over. The villain was neutralized, the fires put out, and the authorities were on the way.

So… why did you feel so on edge, like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop?

“—fuckin’ Dynamight,” one of the heroes suddenly spat and drew you out of your thoughts.

You frowned in confusion as the words registered. Dynamight… why did that sound familiar?

Then your eyes widened as you remembered the blond hero, literally exploding onto the scene. His face—snarling and illuminated by the white-hot flare of his quirk—flashed in your mind’s eye, and you dropped your gaze back down to the street below.

Dynamight, Japan’s Number Two Hero. You couldn’t believe he had been the one to turn up and save you.

Well, not you specifically. Your neighborhood.

You’d seen the ash-blond on television before. Usually, the media just liked to harp on his crude language or brash attitude, but you’d seen this one story of how he had saved every single person from a collapsed building. A teary blonde gushing about Dynamight rescuing her had gone briefly viral, but the clip that stuck with you was when a reporter asked the pro hero why he decided to go into the unstable building without any reinforcements.

The blond had scowled into the camera, sweat and dirt still streaked across his pale face, his scarlet eyes flashing from beneath his black mask.

“What was I supposed to do?” he scoffed. “Leave them in there and sit with my thumbs up my ass while the fire department takes their sweet fuckin’ time? Don’t ask me stupid questions.”

Of course, the media had another field day with that response, but… something about it struck you as incredibly genuine. Yeah, the pro hero could have phrased it better, but the core of what he was saying was he couldn’t sit back when people were in trouble, no matter the risks.

You had thought that very brave.

And now you’d witnessed his bravery first hand. You weren’t confident—or really self-centered enough—to go down and thank him for what he’d done, but you thought you would just be satisfied with seeing him from afar now that things weren’t so dire.

But, the longer you looked, the more the pit grew in your stomach.

You couldn’t see the blond hero anywhere. He wasn’t with Mr. Takeyoshi, still hunched over on the curb. He wasn’t with the two heroes who were trying to establish a perimeter and keep out the arriving crowd of spectators. And he wasn’t with the other heroes standing watch over the unconscious villain laid out on the sidewalk.

The rest of the heroes seemed to be arriving at the same conclusions as you. You could hear Dynamight’s name being thrown about, and then the heroes were splitting up, taking different sides of the street, peeking into broken windows.

You wrung your hands as you watched them search from your apartment. No one had noticed you standing there yet, and you were just contemplating going downstairs to try and help in some way when a noise caught your attention.

In the grand scheme of things, the noise wasn’t very loud, especially given the shouting on the street and the loud sirens now that the police were arriving on scene.

But since you lived alone, someone coughing in your apartment, someone who wasn’t you, was cause for a little alarm.

You inhaled sharply as you glanced back over your shoulder, every atom of your being standing at attention. The apartment behind you was a study in contrasts, dark shadows and the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles outside. Your eyes fell on the empty spot where your couch used to be located, and then your gaze followed the drag marks that had been carved into your wood floor.

The couch was half embedded in the wall beside your front door, with one of the armrests denting into the plaster and the other pointing toward your gaping window/wall. The sofa’s legs had been broken, so it slumped to the floor at an angle, and some kind of stuffing spilled out of several rips in the cushions.

But your eyes were glued to the leg sticking out over the armrest and the arm thrown over the back of the couch, which was blocking the rest of the… person from view.

Oh, fuck. That was a person.

Your legs reacted before your brain could even process what you should do, but you were at least cognizant enough to pick your way over the worst of the debris. Your thin, rubber-soled slippers would protect you from the small pieces of glass and rubble, but you really didn’t want to step on a nail if you could help it.

Since your apartment was so small, and there weren’t any full pieces of furniture in the way anymore, you crossed the distance in a handful of strides, but you jerked to a stop when you reached the back of the couch.

Your lungs seized up so suddenly they hurt. The smell of caramelized sugar was stronger now, almost overwhelming, and you actually had to grip the back of the sofa for support, your hand right next to Dynamight’s leg.

Because it was Dynamight half-strewn across your broken couch. Even when you first saw the leg, you hadn’t imagined it could be…

But there he was. And he looked surprisingly… human.

His face was lax with unconsciousness, lacking the perpetual scowl or snarl he wore in pictures or on TV. His hair, which looked paler and somehow softer in person, was tinged red along his brow line, where a cut was still trickling sluggishly. He wore a non-descript black hoodie over dark jeans and darker combat boots, but a glint of color and light around his midsection caught your eye.

You frowned and leaned down without thinking, your fingers reaching out to brush… something wet.

“Oh, shit,” you breathed when you lifted your hand to your face and saw, even in the darkness, that the pads of your fingers were red and glistening.

He was bleeding.

You moved a step closer, but then your foot lost purchase, sliding, and when you glanced down, you saw your once white slippers were dark, more wetness seeping in around your toes.

Oh, god. He was bleeding a lot.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You fumbled for the phone in your pants pocket as you scurried around the opposite end of the couch and dropped to the ground. Glass bit into your knees again, this time deeper, a sharp, brilliant pain, but you ignored it as you tried to turn your phone’s flashlight on. The touch-screen wouldn’t register your finger at first, your blood-slicked skin skimming across the glass, and you could feel a scream building in your throat just before the light flashed on.

If you thought things were bad in the dark, being able to see made it a thousand times worse.

Blood had already pooled around Dynamight, dark and glinting like an oil spill. The sleeve on his left arm had been burned off, and the skin below was pink and raw. It smelled like cooked meat, and the curry you ate what felt like a lifetime ago churned hotly in your gut.

But the burn wasn’t even the worst of it.

A wooden stake, about as wide as three of your fingers, protruded out of the pro hero’s gut by several inches. You thought part of it might have looked like your window frame, but the thought came and went when you noticed the tip of the wooden splinter was dyed red, which meant it must have come through his body.

That had to be where all this blood came from. Was still coming from. God, there was so much of it.

Your eyes shot to the gaping hole in your wall, your voice rising in your throat as you prepared to scream for help, but a sudden gasp nearly made you jump out of your skin.

You whipped back around to find wide, hazy red eyes trained on your face, and the hero’s mouth gaped open as he dragged in a ragged breath.

“Wh—hnng!” he groaned as his body seized, his right hand coming up to clutch at his stomach.

“Don’t!” Your phone clattered to the floor, throwing light, as you lunged forward, and you caught his hand before he could jar the piece of wood lodged inside him. “D-Don’t move, a-and try not to speak.”

The hero panted as he cracked open his eyes and looked at you. Or maybe through you. His gaze wasn’t very focused, and blood from the cut on his brow was still dripping into his right eye.

But the scarlet color of his irises was still striking, even in the dimness of your apartment.

“You’ve… been hurt,” you said as you met his eyes as best you could. You weren’t a doctor or an EMT, but you knew the best way to keep people calm in emergency situations was to let them know what’s happened and reassure them. “There’s a piece of wood inside you, so you can’t move or you might hurt yourself worse. But y-you’ll be okay. I’ll go get—”

“Villain,” Dynamight suddenly spat out, cutting you off and spattering you with a fine mist of blood.

“What?” His voice was rough and guttural, so it took your brain a moment to translate the slurred Japanese. Did he think you were another villain?

The blond hero winced and groaned again, and it wasn’t until he squeezed down on your hand that you realized you were still holding his. His palm was rough and calloused against yours—and warm, so inexplicably warm—but then he dug his nails into your skin, and you gasped.

“Vil… lain?” he rasped again, and you realized it was a question.

“Oh! The villain’s been arrested. You… you beat him.”

Dynamight scowled at you, brow knitting in confusion, and he grunted what sounded like a questioning noise at you.

Then he shifted his head, and you saw the dark stain of blood coming out of his ear.

He must have ruptured his eardrums in the explosion.

You didn’t want to shout and damage his hearing even more, so you squeezed his hand back and smiled in what you hoped was reassurance.

“You won,” you mouthed as clearly as you could. “You won, Dynamight.”

His narrowed eyes widened a little bit with recognition, and you could have sworn the beginnings of a smirk twitched across his lips before his eyes suddenly rolled up into his head. The tension fled his body as he went limp, like a marionette with its strings cut, and your heart lurched up into your throat.

“Dynamight?” you asked, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you with his ears the way they were. “Dynamight?”

You squeezed his fingers, shaking him a little, but his face remained slack.

Dropping his hand, you reached up to flatten one of yours across his chest, the other going up to feel at the underside of his neck. A moment ticked by, two, but you found his pulse, weak and thready beneath your fingertips. His breathing was shallow beneath your other hand, and the knees of your pants were warm and soaked with his blood.

“F-Fuck,” you breathed shakily as you sat back for a moment, your hands limp in your lap.

He was dying. Dynamight… was dying. This was too much blood, and even if you called out to the heroes right now, and they got here in seconds, it was still ten minutes to the nearest hospital.

He didn’t have ten minutes. You didn’t think he had five.

You stared down at the pro hero’s blood-streaked face for half a beat before you made a decision.

Then you were moving. Consequences be damned.

Your hands went to the hem of his hoodie, and you flinched as you pulled it away from his belly with a wet sound. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you also didn’t think he was feeling much of anything now, so you worked the hoodie up and over the stake as best you could before you shoved the fabric the rest of the way up his chest.

The flashing lights from outside played across the dips and valleys of Dynamight’s abs, but your eyes were immediately drawn to the wooden stake. It jutted out between the hero’s belly button and his right hip bone, and every splinter was coated in tacky, crimson blood. More of the viscous liquid bubbled up around the torn skin at the stake’s base, and it trickled across his pale, alabaster abdomen like spilled paint.

You bit your lip as you considered your next move, but then Dynamight’s breath hitched with a wet sound, and you knew you didn’t have time for doubts.

“Okay, steady,” you muttered to yourself as you knelt over the hero’s prone body. Your knees burned, glass digging deeper into the skin by the second, but you shoved away your own pain as you reached out and wrapped both hands around the stake. Splinters tore into your palms, and your heart hammered out a staccato rhythm beneath your sternum.

Then panic started to creep up your spine like a million little spider legs. What if removing the stake only made him worse, killed him faster? What if you killed Japan’s Number Two Hero?

Just as you were about to let go of the stake, Dynamight hacked out a gurgling cough, blood bubbling out of his dry, cracked lips, and you felt the warm spray of it against your collarbone and arms.

The sound rattled something deep inside you, and before you could second guess yourself again, you tightened your grip on the stake and tugged it up and out in one single motion.

Dynamight wheezed once more, but you were already dropping the stake, hands slapping down against his abdomen. Warm blood pulsed through your fingers like pliable clay, and bile rose in the back of your throat before you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and called upon your quirk.

An instant later, agony like you’ve never experienced slammed into you, ripping a gasp from your lungs. It felt like someone had stuck a white-hot poker through your gut, ignited your insides, and twisted. The pain was so intense, your ears started ringing again, and when you cracked open your eyes, your vision quickly began to tunnel until the only thing you could see was the bare outline of your hands, lined with green, against the hero’s stomach. You gritted your teeth as unconsciousness threatened to pull you under, and you groaned as you shoved as much energy as you could spare into the dying hero.

As your quirk flooded into the blond’s body, you received vague impressions of his injuries healing. It was hard to describe, but it was kind of like you could see flashes of the tissue in your mind as it was stitched back together. First, the jagged hole on his back sealed over, and then your power wormed its way through the hero’s insides, patching up nicked arteries and punctured organs. The pain was still intense, so intense that your already limited vision was blurred by tears, but once you reached the top layers of his abs, you ripped your hands away with a gasp.

You fell back on your ass, more glass and debris digging into your cheeks and the palms of your hands, and you sucked in ragged breaths as you tried to keep from passing out. The hero swam unsteadily before you, both from the tears in your eyes and because the entire apartment was swaying. Saliva pooled in your mouth as nausea clamped down on your stomach, but you focused on the burning in your palms to center yourself. Then you started counting deep breaths, and when you got to thirty, the darkness had receded from the corners of your vision, and the apartment more or less steadied out around you.

You still felt like shit warmed over, like you’d been run over by a car and then dragged for several miles, but the bone-deep exhaustion could be cured with a good night’s sleep. The rest of the nicks and cuts on your body still burned like a million paper cuts, too, but your quirk was down to embers and was of no more use to you.

But was it worth it?

The two feet of distance between you and Dynamight felt like a canyon that stretched for miles, but somehow you found one last burst of strength to drag yourself forward a few inches. Then you held your breath and leaned over the hero’s abdomen, wiping away most of the pooling blood with the hem of his hoodie.

There was still a significant gash carved into his skin, but when you shakily picked up your discarded phone from the floor and directed the light at him, you saw the wound was much shallower, maybe a few centimeters deep. The first few layers of skin were flayed back, but the muscles beneath were intact and healthy looking. A small trickle of blood continued to drip into the valley of the hero’s abs, but instead of a broken fire hydrant, it was just a leaky faucet.

You dragged your tired eyes up Dynamight’s body, and you very quickly realized his breathing was deeper and not as wet sounding. Just to be doubly sure, you reached out and tentatively wrapped your fingers around his left wrist, only absently noticing that the once raw, flayed skin had been partially healed from third degree burns to first.

You had poured more energy into him than you meant to, but it was hard to regret anything when you felt his pulse against your fingertips, strong, steady, and sure.

“Oh, thank you,” you choked out as you closed your eyes, tears stinging in the corners. You didn’t know who you were thanking. You didn’t know if you believed in a “god” in the colloquial sense, but you felt as if the universe had given you a gift just now, and you could be nothing but grateful for it.

You sighed as you slumped a little, and it was like weights were strapped to your eyelids as you struggled to open them and keep them open. You might have actually gone under, succumb to the exhaustion…

If you didn’t catch sight of two crimson eyes staring back at you.

“Fuck,” you gasped as a zap of adrenaline shocked you upright, and your phone clattered to the ground once again.

Dynamight squinted, irises still a little glassy, but unlike last time, his gaze was very much focused on you.

And the weight of it, the intensity, pinned you to the floor.

“Y-You’re awake.” The words tripped off your tongue, chased out by the panic running circles in your brain. Damn it, you hadn’t even had time to come up with a plausible backstory for the pool of blood he was lying in.

The blond hero’s eyes widened a fraction as he stared at you for an immeasurably long moment, and then you remembered with a start that he hadn’t been able to hear you before. This could work in your favor, though. You opened your mouth, ready to pantomime an elaborate story, but his voice—deep and rough, like crunching gravel or an expensive engine turning over—cut you off at the knees.

“And you have eyes,” he said in clipped Japanese, a note of snide derision in his tone.

You blinked in shock—at his attitude, the steadiness of his voice, and the fact he could hear you just fine all the sudden—but he just barreled onward like he had barreled through your window.

“What happened?” he asked. No, demanded. “Who are you?”

“I—”

“And where’s that fuckin’ villain?” he cut you off as his split upper lip curled into a snarl, and his red eyes jumped to the gaping window over your shoulder.

You frowned at him, pursing your lips into a thin line. “Are you going to let me answer?”

A part of your brain was screaming at you, distantly: Are you giving Japan’s Number Two Hero attitude after he saved your life?! You normally weren’t like this. Every inch the people pleaser, you were usually deferential to the point of your own detriment.

But you were still so tired, every inch of you aching, blood still dripping and slick along your exposed skin, and he was the one who decided to be rude first.

Plus, you saved his life, too, thankyouverymuch.

Dynamight actually seemed surprised by your response because his gaze stopped its frantic search of your darkened apartment and settled on you. Those scarlet eyes raked over you quickly, a flick from head to toe, before they met your own.

A beat of silence passed between you, and then his face pulled into a sharp frown.

“Well?” he grunted. “Are you actually going to answer me?”

The nerve of this man. Maybe the media had been right.

“What happened was you decided to practically drop a bomb outside on the street, and then you crashed straight through my window and destroyed my apartment,” you said in a short, clipped tone. “But don’t worry. My couch managed to break your fall, so you’re mostly in one piece. Oh, and you beat the villain, the other heroes are outside handing him off to authorities. Satisfied with my answers?”

You sucked in a deep breath after your little tirade, the blood roaring in your ears. Absently, you patted yourself on the back for the impromptu white lie you’d fed him. The couch did in fact break his fall… and shoved a stake through his gut, but he didn’t need to know that. Fortunately, you had dropped said impaling object behind you in your haste to keep some blood in his body, and you shifted a little now to insure it was blocked from his view. You had healed his life-threatening injury—and his hearing, apparently, though you hadn’t intended that—but he was still covered in scrapes, cuts, and minor burns along his left arm. It was a… plausible amount of wounds, so hopefully your little quirk indiscretion would go unnoticed.

Dynamight was still staring at you in silence, and you began to fidget, on the edge of saying you were going to go flag down another hero, when he finally spoke up again.

“No, I’m not satisfied. You didn’t answer all my damn questions. Who the hell are you?”

A flush of heat infused your cheeks—part anger, part embarrassment for being put on the spot again and being the subject of his intense glare—and you averted your eyes as you mumbled out your name.

“Hah?” he practically shouted as he leaned forward, bringing with him that bewildering scent of burned sugar, but he suddenly stopped with a wince that he quickly turned into a scowl. “Speak up, I hate when people mutter. Just like goddamn Deku.”

The last sentence wasn’t directed at you, but you found his mention of Japan’s Number One Hero intriguing.

You sighed and repeated your name for him, a little louder this time, and he grunted in what seemed like acknowledgment before he started to struggle upright again in the ruins of your couch.

“Don’t move too fast, you’ll start bleeding again,” you chided and scooted closer to stop him from aggravating the injury on his abdomen. You’d healed the worst of it, but it was still an open wound, and he was bound to be sore as hell after smashing through a window/wall.

“M’ fine,” he grumbled as he settled into a slightly more seated position. Then he looked down and noticed his hoodie was still partially rucked up around his arm pits, and his red eyes shot back to you. He studied you for a long moment, but his face was unreadable. “Undressing me while I was unconscious? You’re not one of those damn obsessed fangirls, are ya?”

Your cheeks flared red-hot, but you scowled at the ash-blond hero. “N-No! I—You were bleeding, so I wanted to make sure it wasn’t too b-bad. But, uh, the gash isn’t that deep.”

It was a little harder to make more articulate, detailed lies, especially when his blood was still drying on your hands and you could remember the exact feel of his pulse slowing beneath your fingertips.

Dynamight narrowed his scarlet eyes at you, and you knew you weren’t being convincing. Panic started to claw up the back of your throat again. His burning gaze was charring away at your weaknesses, your resolve. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, confessing. You’d saved his life after all. That wasn’t a bad thing.

Then you remembered all the articles you’d looked up one anxiety-filled night, soon after moving here. All the stories about people using their quirks and causing damage. Of people with healing quirks trying to help and only doing more harm. The fines, the charges, and in rare cases, imprisonment.

You didn’t think you’d be locked up, but you couldn’t afford any fines now, and as an immigrant, any mark on your record could get you immediately deported.

Your mouth dried up. You couldn’t be deported, sent back to your parents as a failure again. What’s more, you had people who relied on you here, like Mrs. Kojima. You weren’t a hero, not important by any means, but… you had just found something to give your life a little purpose. A little stability.

No, you couldn’t be discovered. You just couldn’t.

Your newfound resolve stiffened your spine a little, but when you lifted your chin and met those piercing crimson eyes again, your courage—along with your tongue—shriveled inside you.

Fuck, how were you going to lie your way out of this?

Unfortunately, Dynamight didn’t give you any more time to get your story straight.

“Your hands are all fucked up.”

You startled at his rough voice, instinctively flipping your hands palm-side down and tucking them between your legs. Then, when your brain caught up to your body, you cursed yourself.

Could you be any more obvious, any more guilty?

“I, uh, i-it’s nothing,” you stammered, clearing your throat before you continued. “I cut myself on the broken glass from the window, but it’s not serious. Nothing a few bandaids won’t fix, anyway. Maybe some gauze and antiseptic, but definitely not a hospital visit or anything.”

You knew you were babbling but somehow couldn’t stop it, your anxiety just seizing control of your tongue, and you clenched your torn-up hands into fists until the stinging pain centered you a little bit.

Once again, Dynamight studied you in silence, like he was choosing his words carefully.

“Did you nick your damn wrist, too?” he finally asked as his neutral mask twisted into his signature scowl. “Looks like a lot of blood. Don’t be an idiot and bleed out on me. I don’t wanna deal with the fuckin’ paperwork.”

Well, maybe not that carefully.

“I-I’m not bleeding out,” you protested with a frown. “I’m fine.”

“Let me see.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?

The hero stuck out his right hand, palm up, his scowl only deepening. “Let me see your hands.”

Fuck. A drop of icy cold fear slid down your spine. Your hands were indeed “fucked up” like the blond said, but the cuts were all shallow and minor. They would in no way explain how you were coated in blood up past your wrists. None of your injuries would account for that.

And none of his current ones would, either.

“I—” You opened and closed your mouth several times like a gasping fish, and Dynamight’s eyes narrowed on you with what you were sure was suspicion.

And then, like a gift from the heavens, a small but bright beam of light suddenly flooded your apartment from over your shoulder.

“Dynamight?” a male voice shouted.

The blond hero clenched his eyes shut and turned away from the light, and you. “I’m here! Turn that damn light out.”

Said light cut out an instant later, and you seized the opportunity that had just been presented to you.

Quick as a whip, you leaned over and snatched a large swath of dark fabric that you’d seen in the brief moment of illumination, and you reeled it into your lap quickly. The fabric had been a personal project of yours, a gown you’d started on a whim, but that didn’t matter now. Dynamight was still rubbing at his eyes, grumbling about being blinded, so you kicked half of the unfinished garment under and around the base of the ruined couch, effectively covering up the large pool of blood that had congealed under the splintered furniture. Then you reached behind you, grabbed the bloody stake, and shoved it between the folds of fabric.

There. Now, most of the evidence was hidden.

And not a moment too soon, because in the next breath you heard the crunch of glass as the unnamed hero stepped into the apartment behind you.

“Hello?”

“We’re over here,” you called back, struggling to your feet so the hero could see you over the back of the couch.

The hero was silhouetted against your ruined window and the flashing police lights outside, so you couldn’t see much of his face, but you could tell he was tall and broad-shouldered, wrapped in a red and purple suit you didn’t recognize.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” the hero asked in very formal Japanese.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Dynamight cut you off. It seemed to be a habit of his.

“We’re fine,” he grunted, and you turned to see the blond shoving himself to his feet. A gasp caught in your throat, and you made a half-aborted motion to stop him, but his red eyes snapped up and glared at you, freezing you in your tracks. “Aren’t we?”

It took a moment for you to realize the last question was directed at you, and when Dynamight’s lip curled up into a sneer as he accusingly dropped his gaze to your hands, you realized none of your lies had convinced him after all.

“Y-Yes.” The word stumbled out of your mouth without your permission, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes off the blond as you felt your world falling in around you for the second time tonight. “We’re fine.”

The hero behind you said something, but it was lost in the static suddenly filling your head.

He knows. He knows. Dynamight knows.

The words cycled through your brain again and again, a broken record. What would he do? Would he tell the other hero? Or take you down to the authorities himself? And what then? Would they arrest you? Give you a few days to pack up and say your goodbyes before your deportation?

Just as you were beginning to spiral, movement caught your attention, and you watched as if from a distance as Dynamight suddenly stepped past you, the scent of burnt sugar stinging your nose as he went. He was talking, and the low rumble of his voice vibrated through your body since he was so close, barely a hair’s breadth away, but he seemed to be talking to the other hero.

Was he confessing your secret already?

You couldn’t seem to turn around, your slippered feet rooted to your debris strewn floor. Even in the dark, you could see the black stain of Dynamight’s blood on your ruined couch cushions, and without thinking, you leaned down, picked up another torn and dirty piece of fabric, and threw it over the stain, blocking it from view.

You didn’t know why you did that. It didn’t matter now. Dynamight knew, and—

“Ma’am?” A hand touched your elbow, and you jumped, whirling around. “Whoa, careful there.”

It was the tall hero in the red and purple suit. He was wearing a partial mask over his eyes, so only the lower half of his face was visible, framed by two pieces of dark hair. He smiled at you, a pleasant, reassuring gesture, but you could only gape at him.

“Are you alright?” he asked you again, a frown replacing his smile. His eyes started to look you over, but you shoved your hands into the pockets of your sweats before he could see them.

It doesn’t matter, you idiot, your brain screamed, but your body was still going through the motions of keeping your secret, twisting your hands in your pockets, trying to rub out the blood.

“I’m fine,” you said again and then realized repeating the same trite phrase probably wasn’t convincing. So, you smiled at the hero, or at least you thought you did. Your face felt strangely stiff and numb, but you flashed your teeth and crinkled your eyes just the same. “Really. I’m just a little… shaken up is all. I have a few cuts and bruises, but nothing serious. The apartment took the worst of the damage, obviously.”

You laughed, a hint of hysteria in your voice, as you gestured to the gaping hole in your wall behind the hero, hoping to get him away from your blood-soaked couch. And, blessedly, he did turn, so you took a few steps past him until you were both facing the broken window.

Then you noticed Dynamight was standing near the hole, very cautiously leaning against the last remaining, exposed stud in the wall, with his hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie. His body was facing out into the street, but his eyes were still locked on you, the red of them only intensified by the police lights still flashing on the street.

His eyes seemed to say, I know what you did, and all the saliva dried up in your mouth.

“Well, as bad as the damage is to your home, I’m glad you weren’t seriously injured, ma’am,” the hero at your side suddenly said, and you jolted when you realized he was responding to your inane babble from what already felt like hours ago.

“O-Oh, yes.” You smiled again, just as forced and twice as shaky. “I was… very lucky. A-And thank you! For doing your part to s-stop that villain before he hurt anyone or caused even more damage.”

“Yes, well, there was still more damage than I would have preferred,” the hero replied, and you didn’t miss the dirty look he shot Dynamight, who just deepened his scowl because he was still looking at you. “But let’s get you down to the street. The paramedics will look you over, and the authorities will want to take a statement. But don’t worry, they’ll also put you up in a hotel for the night since you obviously can’t stay here.”

He threw the last part of the sentence at Dynamight like a dagger, and the blond finally tore his eyes off you to glare at the other hero.

You waited for the explosive hero to… well, explode, but he only stared down the tall man beside you before he rolled his eyes, glanced at you one last time, and then jumped out the hole in your wall.

“No—” you gasped, stumbling forward like you could stop him, but an instant later, you heard a mini-boom out on the street, followed by Dynamight barking orders at someone.

Oh, yeah. You remembered how the blond had burst through the air while fighting the villain and realized he didn’t just ruin all your hard, illegal healing work by face-planting onto the concrete.

You sighed and suddenly swayed, like the blond leaving had finally cut all of your tense strings. The adrenaline was fading at last, exhaustion leeching through your veins in its place, and you listed into the hero beside you.

“Ma’am?” he asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“Sorry,” you mumbled sleepily, trying and failing to find your balance. “I think… the shock is wearing off. Just… tired.”

“Would it be alright if I carried you down to the street?”

You wanted to protest, say you could take the stairs down to your shop, but your tongue felt sluggish in your mouth, and all you managed was a vaguely affirmative sounding hum.

“Okay, hold on.”

You felt one hand wrap around your shoulders while the other scooped you up around the knees, and usually, you would protest, insecure about your weight, but the hero settled you against his chest with ease. The instant you were off your feet, every muscle in your body went limp, and you were too tired to even be embarrassed when your head flopped against the hero’s collarbone.

You had the vague thought that he didn’t smell like warm sugar, followed by a flash of disappointment, but then the hero was moving, jumping, and you were falling through the air.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get the luxury of passing out.

Once you hit the street, it was all sirens and shouting, flashing lights and flashes of people, so many people.

True to his word, the hero in the red and purple suit carried you over to an ambulance and two waiting paramedics. The American in you panicked, instinctively trying to refuse care because your shop and home were just destroyed, you didn’t have money for an ambulance ride, too.

But as the medics peppered you with rapid fire Japanese questions, you were reminded of where you were, and the bright flashlight shining into your eyes sure woke you up a little.

The next half an hour was a blur. The paramedics tended to the wounds on your palms, knees, and, embarrassingly, ass, but all of the cuts were shallow, and none of them even required stitches. You knew they wouldn’t require stitches anyway, because once you rested up, your quirk would heal you, but you kept your mouth shut and let the medics wrap you in gauze and bandages. You seemed to have rubbed away enough of the blood on your hands that they weren’t suspicious, but it brought you no relief.

While they worked, you watched the heroes and police out of your peripherals. They were still working to seal off the scene and tend to your neighbors, who were gathered further down the block behind some yellow tape. It didn’t look like anyone else had been injured beside you, and for that you were grateful.

But your stomach was still in knots.

More than once, you heard Dynamight’s brash voice bark over the sirens and other voices, and as the paramedics were finishing up the bandages on your hands, a head of ash-blond hair jutted out over the police car closest to you. Unable to stop yourself, your eyes zeroed in on that distinctive hair color, and you saw the explosive hero was speaking—well, yelling—at two police officers.

Your mouth felt suddenly dry despite the multiple cups of water the medics had fed to you. What was Dynamight saying?

As if he could hear your thoughts, red eyes snapped to the side and locked onto yours, and the breath hitched in your chest. That crimson gaze held you trapped, unable to look away, so when the two officers he’d been speaking to suddenly stepped into your field of vision, you gasped.

“Apologies, didn’t mean to startle you, ma’am,” one of the officers said. He was a middle-aged man, balding, with a serious face and a no-nonsense expression. “We just wanted to ask you a few questions, if you feel up to it.”

You swallowed, your throat clicking, and your heart stuttered into a breakneck pace beneath your sternum.

“O-Of course,” you replied, only stumbling a little over your Japanese. You smiled at the officers, but the expression felt stilted, and fear seized you by the throat and squeezed until your breaths were shallow and grating in your ears.

“Thank you.” The balding officer nodded. “My name is Detective Nakahara. I’ve been told you witnessed and were injured in tonight’s attack.”

You thought the injury part was obvious, given your myriad of bandages and the fact you were sitting in the back of an ambulance, but you nodded to confirm anyway since your voice had abandoned you.

This was it. He was going to ask you the damning question, and you were going to tell the truth. Lying to a hero in the heat of the moment had been one thing, but lying to a police officer during an official statement was another thing entirely. It would take one database search for them to confirm your quirk and Dynamight’s story, and then you really would be in trouble. Maybe imprisoned instead of deported. You cursed yourself for not knowing more about the laws that were going to quickly ruin your life.

But… then Nakahara started asking you about the villain and what you saw, and you stuttered out an answer to the best of your ability. You thought this might have been a disarming tactic, to lull you into a false sense of security, but when you got to the part of the story where Dynamight burst through your window, the officer sighed.

“I take it that’s your apartment there?” Detective Nakahara asked as he gestured to the gaping hole.

“Y-Yes.” You nodded. “And I own the shop below.”

Which you now realized looked no better than your apartment. The windows were all blown out, black scorch marks along the door frame, and you didn’t want to even think about the shape of the interior.

“What kind of shop is it?” he followed up, but he sounded more curious than interrogatory.

“Clothing alterations,” you said. “M-My grandparents were a tailor and seamstress. I inherited the shop about a year ago, after they passed.”

“My condolences,” Nakahara murmured with a small dip of his head, and he seemed genuine. “For your grandparents, and your home and business.”

You blinked in surprise at the turn in conversation. “O-Oh, thank you, that’s very kind.”

“Do you have anywhere to go for the night, or were you on the way to the hospital?” he asked as he looked you over.

“No,” you said quickly and then blushed. “I-I mean, my injuries aren’t serious enough for a hospital visit. Just some cuts and scrapes.”

“Alright.” Nakahara nodded. “Is there any family we can call for you? Or take you to?”

“N-No,” you repeated, a little more timidly this time. “My parents… don’t live around here, and I don’t really have any other family.”

“Any friends?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

Your face was red-hot now, and you dropped your eyes to your lap, fiddling with your bandaged fingers. What were you going to say? That you were an introvert, and the only “friends” you had were the old ladies who frequented your shop?

“None that I would want to bother in the middle of the night,” you muttered before you suddenly remembered something. “But, um, one of the heroes said you could maybe take me to a hotel?”

“Of course, we can take you right now, and we’ll also pay for the night,” the detective said.

“Oh, you don’t have to—” you started to protest as you snapped your head up, but the officer held up a hand.

“The city has funds to aid those displaced by villain attacks,” he explained. “The next forty-eight hours are guaranteed, so if I were you, I would use the opportunity to rest.”

Detective Nakahara glanced down at your bandages, and you bit your lips as you nodded.

“Okay, thank you for your help then, sir.” It was all you could think to say.

“You’re welcome.” Nakahara nodded back at you and then reached out to help you out of the ambulance. “If you’ll come this way, we can have an officer collect some things from your apartment, and then we’ll head to the hotel and get you settled.”

The finality in his tone and the idea of a hotel drew you up short. What… was happening? You had thought the detective was going to interrogate you about your quirk, not… chauffeur you to a nice hotel.

The practical part of your brain was screaming for you to let it go, but the words were high-diving off your tongue before you could stop them.

“I-Is that all?”

Detective Nakahara paused and looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Is what all?”

“I—” Shut up, shut up, shut up! “You didn’t have any more questions for me?”

“No,” the detective said simply. “We have your statement, and it matches the others we’ve obtained.” Here, he frowned and seemed to study you for a moment. “Did you have any other questions for me?”

“I… was just wondering what the next steps are for my apartment and shop,” you blurted out the first thing you could think of. “Will the… city pay for repairs? Do I have to fill out some forms?”

It was an honest question, a real one you had, but your mind was still reeling. He wasn’t going to ask about your quirk? Had… Had Dynamight not said anything?

Nakahara sighed but held a hand out for you to take, and you absently let him help you down from the ambulance. Then he slowly began walking toward one of the police cars, and you had no choice but to follow since you were still holding onto his arm for balance.

“Unfortunately,” the detective started, “the city will not be able to repair your home or business.”

“Why?” you asked with a frown. “I thought you said there were funds.”

“There are,” he said, and when you looked up at him, you noticed his lips were pursed into a thin line. “And, if the villain himself had thrown debris through your window, then the city would compensate you. But, in this situation, Dynamight caused the damaged.”

The detective practically spat the blond hero’s name, and your surprise must have shown on your face because Nakahara quickly cleared his throat and schooled his expression.

“Because of this, his agency will be responsible for repairs, so you will have to contact them,” the officer finished.

Contact them? You had to contact Dynamight’s agency, which meant… fuck. You felt the blood drain from your face, and your expression must have shown your dismay because Nakahara patted your hand that was still looped through his arm

“But you can worry about that tomorrow,” he said. “Let’s get your things and get you to the hotel so you can rest.”

You nodded blankly and let the detective lead you to the open backseat of a police car. Nakahara called another officer over, and the woman asked you questions about where things were in your apartment. You answered numbly, listing out different clothing items and how to get to your bedroom. Then she was gone, and Nakahara stepped away to do something else, so you were suddenly left all alone.

Unbidden, you looked up and searched for that pair of scarlet eyes, that head of ash-blond hair, but the explosive hero was suddenly nowhere to be found.

The crime scene continued to bustle around you, but all the while, two thoughts circled each other in your head, like binary stars stuck in each other’s orbit:

Dynamight didn’t reveal my secret.

But I’m going to have to face him again.

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