#but yeah we all die why can’t I choose. I have like 4 wants maybe.

[cherrysnax]

bleh

[eddiessluttywaist]

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 7,488 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, fluff, swearing, blood (accidental cut), mentions of bullying, low self esteem, anxiety, mentions of embarrassment and shame, mentions of a history of bad relationships, smoking, car trouble (sorry if any of the car stuff isn’t accurate lmao). i think that’s it!

a/n: sorry for taking so long to update! i've been very busy. i hope you enjoy the new chapter! creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

*

“You what?” The man on the other line cackled in Eddie’s ear. “Ro- Robin! No, you gotta come here! Eddie called some chick a ‘good girl’. He totally scared her off, it’s hilarious.”

“Thank you, Harrington, you’re really helping me in my time of need,” Eddie seethed as he laid in bed. He heard some shuffling and then a familiar feminine voice sounded from the telephone.

“‘Good girl’? What is she? A dog?”

Eddie ran his hands over his face, jostling his bangs away from his forehead before suddenly jerking them away in gestures they couldn’t even see as he let out a bitter laugh.

“Why did I even call you two? I’m regretting so many choices today.”

“So, she didn’t like it?” Steve asked as Robin complained about him crowding the phone.

“Go use the one in the living room— no— stop-”

“This is my room. You go use the living room phone.”

“Ugh, you’re breathing on me, dingus!”

Eddie rolled his eyes over the typical bickering, choosing to focus on the question that actually had to do with their conversation.

“Uh — well — she got all freaked out and everything was awkward. When she was leaving, I was going to open the door for her and she thought I was going to hug her— I-I, ugh, it was horrible. So uhh… yeah, I’d say no. She didn’t like it… at… all.”

“You have zero game, man,” Steve chided after a beat of silence that had forced Eddie to sit with his shame.

“And neither do you.” Robin argued, finally waving him out of his own room. “Don’t listen to him, Eddie, he’s an idiot.”

“Thanks, Robin…,” he muttered even if it didn’t make him feel much better.

“You’re an idiot too, just so we’re clear,” she added, and he nodded despite the fact that — once again — she couldn’t even see him. “I can’t believe you called her a good girl.”

“Okay, how many times are we going to repeat it before I blow my brains out?” Eddie deflated with a distressed laugh, clasping his hands together. He heard another line pick up.

“What’d I miss?”

“Eddie wants to die.”

“I do not blame you, man. You know it’s never too late to come here in Indianapolis. Maybe even change your identity,” Steve suggested as he leaned up against the wall by his other phone, which he had nestled between his ear and his shoulder just like Eddie did.

“Yeah, cause I could afford living in the city,” he snickered mostly to himself before sighing as he ran his hands over his face again.

“Who is she anyway?” Robin wondered.

“She’s his weird, secret friend he’s kept from us,” Steve replied in a mutter.

“No, I- she’s not a secret and she’s not weird,” Eddie huffs. “She’s just… she hasn’t been around in a while. She’s a friend from before I moved in with Wayne.”

“Oh… oh,” Robin’s interest piqued again. “So, she’s like… a best-best friend?”

“He totally wants to nail her,” Steve tacked on, and Eddie found himself groaning as he sunk further into his bed, wishing it would swallow him whole.

“I don’t wan — will you quit it? Yes, we were very close.”

“And she just happened to show up out of nowhere. I’m telling you, Ed, she wants you. You should go for it. You haven’t been laid since Chrissy…,” Steve muttered that last comment, and Robin squeezed her eyes shut as she facepalmed.

“Or she could just need a friend…?” Robin countered, her voice weakly lilting upwards as she corrected him. She just hoped the Chrissy comment wouldn’t be enough to make Eddie draw back into himself.

“She knew you when you were kids. I’m sure you were just as weird as a little child Eddie, so I doubt she was all that fazed by you calling her uh… the thing you called her.”

“Maybe…,” Eddie muttered, picking at his nails and biting at them.

He was tired. That tea really did help, even if his exhaustion was put on hold by an absurd amount of embarrassment and anxiety. He could feel himself settling again, his eyelids getting heavier.

“I should go.”

Robin squeezed her eyes shut again and mentally chastised Steve for bringing up Chrissy so carelessly.

“Call us again. Okay, weirdo? To update us?” Robin urged, feeling a surge of protective instinct.

He was never around anymore, never called; and there was always this anxiety in the back of her mind that he wasn’t letting them know if things were getting too hard for him. Neither Steve nor she could figure out when they could check in on him because he never bothered to share his schedule with them. And when they did call it was incredibly rare for him to pick up. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to shut everyone out, but it only made her worry about what was going on with him.

“I don’t wanna bother you guys. I know you’re busy with city life,” Eddie teased with a playful theatricality to his tone, but his voice was soft with that creeping exhaustion.

“Nah, you know you can call whenever,” Steve replied, taking a break from his incessant joking to let some of his sincerity come through. “Plus, I gotta hear more about this secret girl.”

“Not a secret,” Eddie corrected, his eyes closing to soothe his urge to drift off, one brow raising lazily with his words.

“Just call, okay? Or we’ll keep bugging you until you update us,” Robin urged, a sing-song tone coming to her voice.

“Fine,” Eddie snickered, and this time he was actually able to get a goodbye in and sloppily slam his phone back down before knocking out.

There was only crackling now on the line between the two roommates.

“I worry about him,” Robin spoke up suddenly, just loud enough for Steve to catch her concerned voice.

“I know,” Steve sighed, placing the phone back onto the wall. “I do too.”

*

You had no intentions of ignoring Eddie after that night in his trailer, not explicitly anyways. You were still thinking about him constantly, but any pleasant thoughts were immediately invaded by embarrassment. It felt like you were experiencing it all over again and the accompanying swirl to your gut was overwhelming.

The reality of the next couple of Eddie-less days was that you were too engrossed in the aftereffects of that awkward exchange to reach out first, not to mention most of your attention going to your first job here in Hawkins. Despite your nerves, you did surprisingly well on Thursday and Friday night. Enough to get a small smile to bristle Ron’s bearded face and a mutter about maybe needing to get a new name tag ready. You were unbelievably cheery over the praise and acceptance, but you still had one more test to pass: weekend shifts. Those were their busiest, especially Saturday nights. If you make it from 4 o’clock to midnight with no major screw ups then you had the job. He promised.

So yes, you were actively avoiding being the first one to call, but to be fair you were also trying to attend to other aspects of your new life in Hawkins. Your focus was being diverted to getting this job, and spending time with Martha. You were distracted by moments of promising renewal in anticipation of the growing presence of Autumn — despite the crushing embarrassment of the other night.

That didn’t mean you weren’t thinking of him, though. If you weren’t shaking off the recent memory of Wednesday night, then you were indulging in the recent memory of Wednesday night. Him having you over; you making him tea; feeling close to him again as you exchanged stories — laughing together and smiling so hard the muscles in your cheeks hurt a little. The kind of pure smile you only got when you were with Eddie.

You thought about him as you styled your hair in a manner that helped to boost your confidence but wouldn’t get in your way during your shift. You couldn’t believe he had his own place, no matter how “shitty” he said it was. You couldn’t believe he was a tattooed mechanic and had hair. That was the real kicker for you. He didn’t have it shaved so close that he felt like a peach when you patted at the top of his head just to get on his nerves.

He had those long spirals that you wanted to reach across his small kitchen counter and swirl around your finger. Those curls inspired a habit of tilting his head to let his big brown eyes hide under his messy bangs; or sometimes he toyed with his curls to pull a chunk of it in front of his face. It was fascinating to see the way his features and behaviors have adapted to adulthood. Back home he was harassed daily for his “feminine” features, so the fluttery lashes and full lips were nothing new. But now he had grown into his generous mouth and his doe eyes, and so much of his youthful softness had made way for sharp definition — particularly in his jawline and cheekbones. He’s actually grown into the kind of person that intimidated you even if he was just Eddie. He made your palms sweat and had you thinking over every little thing you said. Y’know, things like Loo-ddie. You tried to reassure yourself that you only had nerves because you wanted to have him as a best friend again so badly, but some self-aware part of you knew the signs of an impending crush. Why couldn’t you have some self-control? Why did you have to gush over just about every man who showed you an ounce of kindness?

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you even had brief heart eyes for Ron after seeing how sweet he was with Sandy. It made you yearn for what they had, and you recognized it was more about wanting such a wholesome relationship of your own than wanting someone twice your age, but you still felt ashamed about it. What’s wrong with you? You needed to let bosses stay bosses, and you needed to let best friends stay best friends. You needed Eddie to be a friend, you needed to keep those boundaries in place so you couldn’t ruin everything like always. He’s special, and you can’t just throw yourself at him and offer to give him whatever he wants just so you could feel like his everything — even if it’s only for a few minutes.

You glance at your hands now and fight the urge to chip away at your freshly painted nails to appease your low spirits. You sit with these thoughts for a moment, swallowing moisture back into your throat that felt too tight; then you forced yourself away from the cramped motel bathroom to finish getting ready for your shift. You couldn’t let yourself slip up and distract yourself with your own misery — it was Saturday, and this was your final step towards success. A measly success of a server job at a small-town bar, but you had to put a positive spin on it.

You couldn’t focus on self-loathing, and you couldn’t focus on Eddie.

*

“A new girl?” Eddie groaned as he rolled his sleeves up to the bends of his elbows. “The last time we had a new person I had to watch him every fucking second cause he had no clue what he was doing — shit, he even stole from you, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Ron muttered bitterly, never happy about the reminder that someone had been sneaking cash out from under his nose. “She’s pretty good though. Real sweet and does her job.”

“I dunno… do we really need the help?”

“Kevin is back at school. We really need the help,” Ron chuckled, but felt a pang of sadness right to his chest knowing his youngest was back at college — or even in college in the first place — all the same. “Don’t be so sour. She’s a good kid.”

Eddie grumbled irritably but didn’t pester him any further. It was no use anyways. If Ron set his mind on something, then he wasn’t letting up. Sure, it made sense considering it’s his business, but he’s also stubborn as a bull and that quality had a history of surpassing logic sometimes.

About a quarter to four, Eddie was in the back when the bell rang.

“Well look at you, all nice and early again. You suckin’ up?” he heard Ron asking playfully, and Eddie rolled his eyes.

Great. A suck-up.

Just what he needed. Some goody two-shoes setting a new standard that he wouldn’t meet. He was lucky if he was on time in the first place with how much he slept in on the weekends, but Ron was always cutting him slack. Jus’ a small-town bar he’d say whenever Eddie scrambled into the building with an apology already slipping out at an incoherent pace.

He couldn’t hear the new girl’s reply, assuming it had been a nonverbal one rather than one so delicate and quiet that even Ron barely heard it before the novice made her way to the back.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve worked together yet and I just… wanted… to… Loogie…?”

At the sound of your voice, Eddie was already turning around from where he was opening the recent delivery. His perception of the moment seemed to have been placed in slow motion and suddenly he was heating up with flashbacks of Wednesday night. Called her a good girl, no joke, called her a good girl his mind droned on repeat just to torture him.

“Wha — hey,” he laughed casually and thankfully avoided choking on his own spit. He swallowed thickly and his brow furrowed as his voice came out painfully hoarse. “You’re the new girl?”

“Guess so. If I do well tonight,” you murmured with a small smile, toying with your hands.

You had painted your fingernails a rich burgundy, and his eyes zeroed in on the small strokes of color before looking up at you again.

“I’m sure you’ll be okay, Ron seems really impressed with you…” Eddie offered with a light laugh after clearing his throat, suddenly feeling sheepish around you again.

“Don’t go tellin’ her that! I don’t want her thinking she doesn’t have to work hard tonight!” Ron shouted from the front, pulling a snicker out of you.

You swiftly place your purse on a hook before continuing the conversation. Even if it wasn’t the end of the world if Ron heard your conversation, you took a few steps closer to Eddie and lowered your voice a touch.

“So… did the tea help at all…?” you ask, risking a mention of Wednesday night. You lifted one sneakered foot up onto your toes and shifted nervously before settling it back down as you waited on his reply.

Eddie’s lips pushed out in thought as he brought his attention back to the delivery of nuts and pretzels (really, he was looking for an excuse to not have to look at you as he thought of that night).

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks — really helped,” he offered a partial smile as his eyes flitted over to you before turning down again just a fast.

You press your lips together in a weak smile of your own and nod but fall silent. Instead of giving into your urge to pick at your polish, you run the pads of your fingers over the smooth surface of your nails instead.

“‘m sorry for that hug,” you finally blurt out with an uneasy laugh. “I just- I really thought that was why you were reaching over, and I didn’t want to be rude so-”

Eddie’s eyes widened and finally removed himself from his suddenly oh-so-interesting task.

“No no no, you don’t have to apologize,” he promised as he stretched back to his full height. “I should’ve been offering anyw- ah, shit.”

Eddie hissed as he glanced down at his hand. While replying with a fervent need to reassure you, he had thoughtlessly grabbed at the wrong end of the box cutter and sliced the pad of his thumb.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you rush over to him, instinctively cradling his hand with your own.

“Just a surface cut. Really.” Eddie chuckled. He really needed to go run it under cool water and bandage it, but he wasn’t ready to separate from you.

“What’s going on back there?” Ron questioned from the bar.

“Eddie cut his finger!” you replied as Eddie insisted “Nothing!” simultaneously.

Ron grumbled on his way to his back room that he had turned into a part kitchen, part break room, part delivery storage room. Surely there was some kind of code being broken there, but who cared? Clearly no one around Hawkins.

He eyed the way you two were situated but didn’t think much of it since you were probably just having a natural reaction to someone getting hurt.

“I swear…” he grumbled under his breath on his way over.

“You need to pay attention before you really hurt yourself one of these days,” Ron muttered, and grabbed Eddie’s wrist far harsher than when you reached out for him. “Aren’t you a mechanic? Don’t you know to watch where your hands are, kid?”

You cringed when he wiped at the spot with a rough napkin that sounded like it might as well have been sandpaper against the cut, then grunted.

“It’s fine. Just a bleeder,” he states with all the confidence of a certified physician and ruggedness of an old trucker before tugging up his jeans further into his partial beer gut and walking back out. “You know where the first aid kit is!”

“More than anyone,” Eddie added with a half grin to compliment his self-deprecation as he tilted his head, breathing out a soft laugh.

“Still accident prone, huh?” you ask with a slight scrunch to your nose and a lift to the corners of your lips, watching him head farther back in the multi-faceted room to the employee bathroom.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He tilted back out of the room to offer you a cheeky grin, his hair jostling with the motion and then again when he flicked his head to get it out of his face.

“Oh, I dunno… Coulda learned your lesson after face planting into gravel,” you offer with an innocent tone, taking a moment to clock in before sauntering over.

“Well considering that happened several times, you should know better than to assume I’d ever learn,” he whispered playfully, grinning over at you.

“Guess so,” you snort, leaning into the doorframe.

“Had to rough this face up, y’know? Really dedicate myself to becoming a man,” Eddie used a deeper, rougher tone of voice and puffed his chest out as he held a paper towel to his thumb.

“It’s a shame it didn’t work,” you pouted before laughing at the hurt look he donned.

“You wound me, truly,” he moved his good hand to his chest.

“Not as often as you do, apparently,”

“Touché, touché,” he sighed, unclasping the first aid kit and flipping it open. “You’re still a lil shit, y’know that?”

“Can’t help it. Haven’t had anyone to banter with in years,” your head settled against the wood of the doorframe and his own tilted to the side as he regarded you. That smirk of his toyed on his lips as he considered your words.

He’s about to reply — surely with some cheeky remark about you needing him — but Ron was calling before he got the chance.

*

“Make sure you’re wearing gloves today,” Ron muttered to Eddie without lifting his attention from whatever he was writing down.

“You never wear gloves,” Eddie countered with a childish huff. “Only rich-ass bars in the city give a shit about that crap.”

“Yeah, well I ain’t a health hazard,” he snickered, finally raising his gaze to point his pencil at Eddie’s bandaged finger. “Gloves. Now.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but pulled gloves from the box under the countertop anyways. You’re on the other side of the bar, sitting on a stool and a smile pulling at your lips. Elbows on the countertop and chin balancing on your fists, you watch him intently with little giggles sneaking out.

“Don’t encourage him,” Ron pleads gruffly at the sound of you laughing over Eddie making a big show of pulling out the gloves and slipping them onto his hands.

Once he let each glove snap into place at his wrists, Eddie outstretched his arms and displayed his new accessory.

“Eh? Nice, right? Definitely won’t make everything I touch taste like latex,” Eddie nudged his boss who gave him a less than pleased look, but you were sure he was muffling his own amusement.

“Wanna learn how to bartend?” Ron asks you now. “I think there’ll be an opening soon.”

At that, Eddie leans back with a belly laugh, his dimples sinking into his cheeks.

*

You had unfortunately started your shift with the assumption that they had been messing with you when Ron and Sandy warned you about Saturday nights. When you arrived just before 4 o’clock there was nearly no one there besides the occasional regular; then twenty minutes past 5 o’clock came along and you were blasted back to Sunday mornings at the diner. The place was packed full of people all chummy with one another, which was charming until they were several drinks in and decided they knew you just as well.

Not all of them, but enough of them were flirting with you at every opportunity; and you were forced to use your customer service manners to deal with them. So many fake smiles were starting to make your cheeks ache.

Returning to the back with an empty tray, you rub at the muscles in one cheek with your free hand. You almost forgot how much service work meant forcing a pleasant attitude and dealing with aching feet. God, that was killing you more than anything. When you were leaving the motel, your trusty sneakers were like walking on clouds. Now, you were certain you had been stomping around on needles.

The music didn’t exactly help with your shift either while trying to hear requests and reply, especially since you weren’t one to use a loud tone. Ron insisted on live music whenever he could get it and you understood the appeal, but the band playing tonight apparently didn’t know how to have a respectable volume set for performing indoors.

You could handle it and you knew you’d form a routine with the locals that rushed in on the weekends and you’d learn how to cope with deafening musicians — you just needed to adjust to your new job.

What you couldn’t handle, as you were quickly learning, was seeing Eddie bartend. It was such a simple act, and yet it left you slack jawed while trying to stay focused on dishing out the drinks he prepared to the right people.

Something about the gloved hands and the rolled-up sleeves as he moved around the bar with such ease left you in the shadow of a crush looming overhead again. His chain bracelet and that familiar beaded bracelet were stacked on one wrist; he even had a few faded tattoos you caught glimpses of in the dim lighting. Not to mention the moving musculature in his strong forearms as he poured and served and wiped with a sort of sloppy expertise. You noticed there wasn’t a lot of mixing around here just like back home. Just a whole lot of small-town people looking for simple alcohol. The older ones seemed partial to a basic glass of whiskey or beer; and the younger ones all hopped up on the fact that they could finally drink legally were requesting shots.

Eddie had tied his hair back in a low bun with the occasional curl rebelling and framing his face that seemed to only be smiling or thinly veiling irritation whenever a mean drunk bitched about him not pouring enough. Either way it truly was something to behold.

As much as his looks should’ve been a passing thought, considering your place as an old friend, they insisted on lingering. You were still adjusting to knowing him this way and the odd disposition between knowing him like no one else and not knowing him at all continued to present a disorienting mix of feelings. The possibility of such complications never occurred to you when you became dead set on coming here, and you hated that you didn’t see it coming or brace yourself for it. Now you were stumbling through moving here for a childhood best friend and winding up finding a man in his place.

Then, of course, your thoughts circled back to your history with men. Don’t go there, don’t go there.

You let out a small sigh and checked the clock. 11:11. So close. So, so close. Before you knew it, it would be time to leave. Glancing at your notepad, you go over what that guy in the sweat stained sports tee asked for his cheap nachos. Extra jalapeños. He insisted on extra jalapeños and went into way too much detail of how “he’d be paying for it in the morning, but they’re just so damn good.”

“Having fun?” Eddie asked after his plodding jog to the back.

“Oh, you bet. An absolute blast,” you laughed, pouring the molten cheese over the thin tortilla chips. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Break,” Eddie answered simply as he flopped down in a chair in the small corner of the space dedicated to the employees. “Ron and Sandy got the bar for now.”

“Ahh,” you hum, spooning the jalapeños on top of the mountain of ingredients.

“Y’know, you’re pretty good at the whole bartending thing. It’s actually kinda cool,” you admitted, glancing over your shoulder to smile over at him.

“I just pour alcohol for the local drunks, but thanks,” Eddie laughed diffidently over the compliment, sliding his metal lunch box closer to get to his baggie of pretzels.

“Is that your dinner?” You ask now, fighting to keep the conversation alive. You’d take talking about pretzels over a lull in conversation.

“Oh uh--” he glanced down at the bag. “I might make something when I get home if I have enough energy.”

“You better. Or I’ll be forced to come over again. Pretzels aren’t dinner.”

“Oh, I see,” Eddie grinned. “Then you can come over and I can make a fool of myself again.”

“It’s okay, I’ll do it too. It’ll balance everything out,” you offered, placing the hot plate on your tray.

“Oh, well there we go. Long as we’re both fools, then it should be okay,” he agreed with feigned seriousness to your proposal then let his smile curl up his lips again.

“Of course,” you matched his endearing expression. “We’re always fools.”

“Always fools…” he tested aloud while leaning back to teeter the metal foldout chair back and forth.

“I concur, Critter.”

*

“They’re awfully chummy, hm?” Sandy whispered to Ron as she watched you two interact while cleaning up for the night.

“Yeah. I hate it,” Ron grumbled out, scrubbing at a stain. “He better not scare her off. She’s a good waitress.”

“Don’t be like that,” Sandy sighed, nudging her hip into his. “I think it’s sweet. And he’s a good kid, I don’t see him hurting her — let alone enough to cost us an employee.”

“So, we’re definitely keeping her ‘round?”

“Yes, we settled on that this morning — would you quit avoiding the topic?” She urged and Ron groaned as he stretched his back.

“It’s alright, I guess. Jus’ don’t want any drama around here. Too old for it.”

*

“So, I didn’t scare you off?” Eddie asked as you cleaned off tables together.

“Scare me off?” you repeated, glancing over at him. “Why’d you say that?”

Eddie eyed you through his lashes then looked back down at the same spot he’s wiped down probably six times now.

“Well, you brought up coming over again,” he let out a soft chuckle. “So, I’m guessing I wasn’t that much of an idiot on Wednesday?”

“Oh psh — please,” you laughed it off, standing up straighter after swiping the rag over the tabletop one more time. “If anything, I was being stupid.”

“Oh, I wasn’t saying you weren’t being stupid,” Eddie joked with that obnoxiously gorgeous grin, finally separating from that same table he kept cleaning. He sauntered over to you, his amusement and proximity warming you as he looked down at you. “Just that I was also stupid.”

“I’d say you were especially stupid, but I was trying to be nice,” you shot back in a dulcet tone, grinning up at him.

“Be nice?” Eddie repeated with a huff of disbelief, grinning when that earned him a jab to his side. “Gone soft on me, Critter? Not the same girl that’ll throw a remote at my head?”

“I only did that if you were particularly annoying while I was trying to watch TV,” you laughed, nudging his chest to just barely make him stumble back. Not that it discouraged that man who only smiled brighter.

“Well then, I guess I have an excuse for being such an idiot all the time. You really knocked something loose all those times you hit me with that remote.”

“Sure, it was me that knocked something loose,” you teased in a giggle, making your way over to the last couple of tables. Your laughter only builds up at the face he gives you — both playfully hurt and encouraged to get you back.

Within seconds you noticed the way he started to twist up his rag, and you were squealing and rushing away from him. Eddie chased after you and whipped at you with the towel whenever he got the chance, occasionally jamming his hip into a table or a chair with a breathy “Oof.” Amongst your squeaks of empty fear, you were still cackling and tried to get him back with your own towel.

“Children!” Ron suddenly announced, and you two slowed down to a stop — still breathless and giggly. “I’m old and would like to go to sleep. Maybe finish cleaning before flirting?”

Sandy gave him a look that could kill for that, then followed Eddie’s example and whipped at his behind with a rag.

Both of your faces flushed at the accusation, but thankfully weren’t forced to sit with the embarrassment of being called out by Ron. Instead, all your attention went to cackling over Ron’s tired reaction to his wife snapping a towel at his ass.

He looked genuinely angry for a moment, and then he was clearing his throat and wiping the bar cleaner off his hands and twisting up his own towel.

“Nope — no — Ron,” Sandy started with a warning tone, but she was already laughing, slowly backing away.

“Gotta play fair,” Ron pointed out and whipped at her thigh. That was enough to send Sandy squealing and Ron chased after her to the back room while the two of you leaned into your laughter.

You’d do anything for a love like that.

*

“Still not a fan of pretzels for dinner?” Eddie chanced a glance over at you with a lazy, half grin as he toyed with his keys and walked you over to your car.

“Definitely not a fan of pretzels for dinner,” you answered, laughing under your breath and nudging his hip with your own.

“It’s a shame cause y’know,” Eddie yawned dramatically as he stretched out his arms and then flopped into the side of your car. “I’m real tired. If someone doesn’t follow through with their offer, that’s for sure all I’ll be having.”

You tilted your head, feeling that post-customer service ache to your cheeks as you fought the urge to smile at this absolute idiot leaning against your car. His elbow was propped up on the roof, his fist supporting his head and squishing his cheek.

“I don’t know if I have the energy to cook right now,” you sighed, doing your best to match his drama. “But you know what?”

“What, Critter?” He hummed, shoving himself away from the car to move a few stray hairs from your face and in that moment, you might as well have melted into the cracked and sun-bleached pavement. “I’m invested. Do go on.”

“I can buy us fast food,” you whispered to provide a surreptitious air to burgers and fries. Screw it. You’ve been good about eating real food. Maybe it was time to associate these meals with something positive for once. Whatever excused your addiction to excessive oil and salt.

“Ah, much better than pretzels,” he laughed, shoving one of his hands into his jacket pocket. “I’d be honored.”

“Just like old times,” him being closer to you to move some hair out of your face encouraged you to toy with one of the pins on his coat. A soft breeze swirled through the parking lot, and you were both reminded of how stuffy and smoke-filled work had been as you breathed the fresh air in. You caught the scent of a distant bonfire, but it was nothing like the cloud of tobacco back in The Hideout. The chill of the air combined with the musk of a faraway fire spoke of Fall, sweetening your already pleasant mood.

“Remember that time we got large pizzas for both of us on movie night?”

“Yeah,” Eddie let out a soft laugh. “You threw up on the carpet.”

“Yeah, and you got in trouble for using your dad’s credit card,” you add a small giggle of your own, just for your heart to sink at the shift in his expression. You shuffled in your spot.

“Sorry… I probably shouldn’t… I shouldn’t keep bringing him up,” you muttered, dropping your hand away from his W.A.S.P. pin.

“No — no, no it’s okay really,” Eddie was quick to reassure you, but your mood was still steadily spoiling and dragging the pit of your stomach down with it at even a glimpse of him being bothered by you. Upset, angry, annoyed, fed up — whatever it was. You were certainly paying the cost of your penchant for nostalgia, and even the aroma of an early October night couldn’t save you.

“I like talking about when we were kids,” he added in a hushed tone that eased your spiral a touch. You glanced up at him through your lashes. “Really. I do. Makes me feel… ah, I don’t know.”

He admitted that last comment with a huff. It was filtered through amusement over his inability to speak before he rolled his lower lip inward in thought. Both of his hands were shoved in his pockets now and he swayed in his spot while kicking a piece of gravel forward. He finally released his lower lip again which was left with a slight sheen to it now, and he settled on a shrug of defeat. He couldn’t think of what he wanted to say.

You stared at him, this impromptu moment of softness burning through you in a way you weren’t expecting. Just as he couldn’t understand exactly why he enjoyed discussing his childhood as long as it was with you — you couldn’t understand the sudden pang of nausea that came from hanging onto his words and just to drop down over a noncommittal shrug. Your anxiety barreled into you in a sudden flash, leaving you somewhere in between the pain and the comfort of clinging to the past with him.

“Makes me feel cared about, I guess. Especially since we haven’t been friends in a while,” he finally concluded. “You don’t have to remember any of that stuff, but you do… it’s nice.”

“We’re always friends,” you insisted with a small smile, doing your best to not let everything fall apart over that once brief change of expression especially since things were looking up again.

“Yeahhh, you’re alright…,” Eddie murmured. “I guess I’ll keep you.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” you snort, attempting to move him to the side so you can get to your car, just for him to reach out a hand to settle on your upper arm. He gently urged you to turn around as he pushed himself off your car again.

“C’mon, I’ll drive. I don’t trust that thing,” Eddie insisted as he kept a careful hold on your elbow while guiding you towards his van.

“What?” you question, looking back at your lonely car. “I’ve had her forever, she’s perfectly safe… I can’t just leave her here.”

“Your brake pads are shit.”

“What?” you ask again with a slight pout and furrowed brows.

“When you visited me the other day,” he started with a light laugh to buffer his confession. “Your car sounded like it was screaming when you were parking.”

You reached his van that had aged gracefully over the years with a mechanic at its beck and call. Eddie unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for you, but you couldn’t stop looking at your car.

“She’s just tired s’all,” you frown, feeling guilty over abandoning an inanimate object no matter how silly it felt.

“She’s just gonna kill you if you don’t replace your brake pads s’all,” Eddie leaned into you with his mocking whisper. Your sad glance up at him is enough to make his playful expression falter. His heavy and dramatic exhale already pulls a smile back onto your face, knowing he was caving in some way or another.

“I’ll bring ‘er to Thach’s and replace them for you,”

“Thank you, Loogie,” you swooned, and he rolled his eyes over your excessively cooing tone.

You were lucky to have favoritism on your side.

*

“Give it to me straight, doc. Will she make it?”

Eddie glanced over at you with a faux glare.

“How many times are you going to ask me that?”

“I dunno, how many times are you going to squint at me instead of answering?”

“You know I’m doing this for free right? After hours? After already working my second job all night?”

“Ooo, you sound like such an adult,” you squeeze your shoulders up to your ears with a grin, a brown bag stocked with artery-clogging goodness on your lap. He shook his head at you, looking away again to hide his poorly masked amusement. He could say all he wanted about doing this for free, but you could still give him a hard time. He was getting paid whether he wanted it or not. Even if he didn't accept it from you personally, you'd at least leave cash at the front desk and ask the nice receptionist to give it to him.

“Alright, c’mere,” he waved you over eventually. You perked up, moving out of the hard plastic chair in the garage where you left the fast food in your place. “And can you bring that display over? On the table?”

Nodding, you snatched it on your way over to Eddie and kneel beside him.

“Okay so,” he started off with a sigh. Not a great sign.

“Best case scenario, your brake pads look like this,” a greasy index finger points to one of the pads on display before moving to the one next to it. “This is how they’d look with a more moderate amount of wear to them – not great and you'll want to replace them, and then this is how they look when you need to get them replaced ASAP.”

“And this is your brain on drugs,” you chimed in with the theme, before shrinking under the look he gave you.

“Sorry,” you murmured, even though he broke and smiled over your bad joke.

You returned to observing the gradual decline in buffers on the display and shrug a bit.

“Okay, so what about Sherry?”

Eddie groaned as he leaned back to grab the discarded piece of metal and held it up to show you. It looked like a flat, grimy cracker in comparison to the examples on the display.

“They’re practically just the backing plates at this point, I don’t know how you’re not dead,” the piece clinked against the cement floor when he dropped it back down. “How long have they been squealing?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed and he became visibly pained by the way you had to think about it. It wasn’t coming from a patronizing, “how can you be so dumb” kind of place, but rather it stemmed from the anxiety of knowing you were driving around like this.

“I dunno… I noticed a while ago, so I just played my music louder,” you shrugged, and Eddie snorted amidst his distress. He sat up more to lean his back on Sherry. “But then I had to start stomping on the brakes way before I usually would to stop in time.”

“Yeah, that’s generally not a great sign,” he snickered as you started to.

“I’m so sorry, Sherry…” you frowned despite your previous giggling, raising a hand to caress one of her doors. Eddie lifted himself up off the ground with a grunt, heading over to a sink to wash his hands. You crane your neck to follow him, dropping your hand down from your car and start playing with the creeper, rolling it back and forth.

“So, she’ll get some new brake pads and she’ll be as good as new?”

“Well, I don’t want to just replace those, I’ll check out the whole braking system,” Eddie turned to face you completely, wiping the remaining water and suds off his hands. He grabbed the bag you left on the seat and made his way back to you.

“How’d you learn all this stuff?” you asked, thanking him as he handed you your burger before taking a monstrous bite out of his own.

“Uh, my uncle taught me,” he said around his food, sucking a bit of ketchup off the side of his thumb. You noticed the sad glance down to the floor, so you backed off. You didn’t need another moment like earlier when you brought up his dad again.

“I just can’t get over the fact that you’re a grown up…” you murmured to yourself, looking down at your meal. Eddie eyed you as he kept chomping away at his food. The horrid sound that you’ve always despised motivated you to look up at him again, and laughter bloomed from your chest at the sight of the mess around his mouth. His chewing slowed as he blinked his big eyes at you. Gulp.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“You still eat like an obnoxious kid,” you teased, kicking a foot out to nudge him and pull multiple napkins out of the bag for him.

He simply shrugged in response with a cheeky grin, accepting the napkins that he unceremoniously smeared over his lips.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to be here,” he raised his hands up in defense now, chuckling to himself.

“Yeah, I am…” you murmured, leaning your head back against Sherry as a fond smile formed on your lips while you watched him start to dig through the bag for any stray fries to add to his container. He shoved most of them right into his mouth before glancing at you again.

“What?”

“Nothing… just happy to have my best friend back,” you murmured, and he silently melted at the sincerity. God, did he feel lucky for once.

You take a beat before outstretching your arm to present him with your downturned hand with just your pinky out. Eddie recognized the old gesture and wiped his hand on his pants, despite the napkins at his disposal, before reaching his own hand out. Interlocking pinkies was of course typical of some childish pact which the two of you did plenty of times as kids, but sometimes you sought this out simply for a moment of comfort. It made you feel held and even as kids, Eddie had the emotional maturity to understand how lonely you felt because of your family. So, when you needed someone to hold your pinky, he was there. The only difference was now his pinky was closer to the width of your thumb and nearly swallowed your pinky whole when he wrapped it around yours. Just another adjustment to Eddie being an adult, which left an unlaughed snicker in your chest at the realization, but it comforted you all the same.

And this night in a dingy old garage after a long shift was easily the best night you’d had in years.

*

taglist: @mystars123 @h-ness1944 @ohmeg @milkymil-k @eddiesprincess86 @stopbeingcurious @corrodedcoffincumslut @sidthedollface2 @spoonflix @madaboutjoe @fckyeahlames @corrcdedcoffin @damon-loves-pie @bebe07011 @eponaartemisa @aysheashea

[baylikeselephants]

Just finished Iron Flame (I know I’m behind) but here are my notes I took throughout the book.

Also would like to say I CALLED IT with Andarna

Iron Flame

Chapter 1

* Again like in book 1 tairn says “for now” about Xaden being the most powerful… interesting

* Go off girl you tell them you ain’t gonna be talked about

Chapter 2

* okay so first Violet thinks Naolin was something more to Brennen….

* But tairn won’t so much talk about him. He did turn venin taking in too much to save Brennen yeah?

* My sister made sure I saw the rune shaped scar on Brennen’s hand. That’s basically confirming to me that Naolin turned venin and that he did so and saved Brennen and now Brennen is marked to kind of signify that Brennen is his and he can do what he wants with him (like a wyren)

* Ooo a wardstone? That’ll come in handy

* Sgaeyl doesn’t like Brennen. Shit shit shit

* Andarna!!!! She’s got black scales (for now??) that look kind of purple? She won’t be one of the traditional colors will she?

* The delulu!!! “Mom won’t kill me” says Violet. Bitch that lady kill you for a sammich

Chapter 3

* 99% sure we can’t trust Dain????? Seriously Violet?

Chapter 4

* Dun dun dunnnn

Chapter 5

* I hate this bitch (Dain’s dad)

Chapter 6

* “And miss all the drama” andarna my sweet child 🤣

Chapter 7

* Ridoc “no one wants my genuine reactions” I fucking do bro

* Oh yes we’re back on the “just a reminder Jack is very very dead” no the hell he’s not you shut your face

* Go off girl you get those books and shit I dunno

Chapter 8

* Varrish is friends with Dain’s stupid dad. Great.

* THE KING’S SON? Aight then. Go off I guess.

* Annnnd Liam’s sister. Got it

* Solas. We hate him. Also he’s an orange.. we haven’t (I don’t think) met an orange we didn’t end up hating their rider

* Tairn go baby! Woot woot chomp him chomp chomp

Chapter 9

* Poor Violet. I fear the nightmares will only get worse

* Well she’s dead

Chapter 10

* Okay the big kid is venin too got it. And sent by dick heads dad

* “Watch me” lol Xaden

* He wrote her a letteerrrr lol

Chapter 11

* Mira was reassigned to Athebyne?? Of course

* Eat him tairn

* Damn he didn’t eat him

* Yeah yeah yeah I do wanna know if it’s a coincidence or not that she bonded a feather tail after her dads work on the book about them

* The bitch searched her

* Lmao but not tairn

Chapter 13

* The bitch. Both of them. Carr AND Varrish

* She got got

* Hopefully by the torture people and not by someone trying to kill her

Chapter 14

* okay good

* Okay bad

* Jack fucking Barlowe’s dragon. Great.

* Dead

Chapter 15

* I like Rhi a lot….. that means she’s gunna die

Chapter 16

* Jesinia is also toast isn’t she

* Hehehe she got sloane to train. Go off girl

* Stupid varrish. He can suck a dick

Chapter 17

* But I like Jesinia 😭

Chapter 18

* They fighttttin

* Nolon says he’s healing a soul? Maybe? Maybe not?

* Oh. Is he trying to heal a soul?? Like venin… maybe a particular bastard Jack Barlowe?

Chapter 19

* Have I said that I hate Varrish and his stupid motherfucking dragon

* I love that tairn is literally making Varrish beg for forgiveness but by gods this is going to come back to bite Violet in the ass I’m certain

* At least she kind of talked to Rhi

* Stupid motherfucking asshat

Chapter 20

* Lmao “Uhg let’s go throw knives at shit” is the most Mira thing

* Why would ya tell Mira you crazy lady. That’s gunna backfire. I feel strongly we shouldn’t trust one of the siblings so I’m choosing to trust neither

Chapter 21

* Kill Dain. Hate him.

* I really don’t think I believe him.

* I do about her mom though. That lady is a bitch and Violet is stupid for not believing him

* I thought he knew!!!!! Aaric to the rescue!

Chapter 22

* The fucking torture shit

Chapter 23

* Stupid bastard Dain and stupid bastard Varrish

Chapter 24

* the knives unlock the door

* Nice

Chapter 25

* why did a scribe walk by?

* Caroline? Wait she’s only mentioned with Jack barlowe yeah? Oh boy

* Annnnnnd now she’s running out after the whole leaflet thingy

* Devera pockets hers… is she part of the revolution then? I know that’s a long shot but why keep it?

* Annnd there’s Jack. Got it… yay….

Chapter 26

* Xaden is hurt

Chapter 27

* Rondezvous? Hm. Not dangerous I’m sure

Chapter 28

* His ex, Cat?

* Yes

Chapter 29

* Oh good grief

* Get the dagger Rhi

* She got it phew

* Girl you stupid I mean probably not but like a little

Chapter 30

* okay look I know violet isn’t gay but Rhi is and she got a thing for Violet

* Annnndddd there’s a sub level vault

* Jack didn’t get healed (see: he is venin) he just got masked

* Bye bye Eya

* Huh

Chapter 31

* Jack? Okay then.

* A prince who hates his father lol

Chapter 32

* Yeah okay. Xaden killed Aaric’s brother. That checks

* Sneaky sneaky

Chapter 33

* Aaric is bold

* Phew that was close

* Those better be the damn books though. I’m worried they are not

* I feel like Varrish will be waiting on them or something when they get back

Chapter 34

* Uhg stupid Bodhi. Why did you say “well that was blissfully uneventful” you dumbass. Now shit for real for real about to hit the fan

* Bastard Nolon. Why would you take anything from ANYONE right now. Don’t drink that shit

Chapter 35

* I hate Nolon. I knew I hated Nolon. Because he “revived” Jack but uhggggg

* Don’t answer shit Vi

* Liam! Hi buddy

* Haha. Tairn is hunting Solas.

* Stupid Dain. I hate this bastard too

* This is stupid but is he going to try to get her out? Probably not right?

* Well damn if he didn’t do it

* Varrish is dead? Here’s hoping. He did get killed with the venin killing knife

Chapter 36

* show them all!!! Bitches

* andarna is black? That’s not her final color though is it?

* Hehe. You needed dragons right

Chapter 37

* Okay so these nightmares… do we know that it’s not kind of real? Like-hear me out- the venin, in this case the sage, when powerful enough can project into people’s subconscious and haunt them

* Dirty dirty

* Oh no

* “We’re all that’s left of the squad that fought at Resson” usually is followed by another one of them dying

* Tell ‘em Xaden

* ANDARNA!!!! This isn’t a bad thing right……..

Chapter 38

* SHE WILL TOO BEAR A RIDER 😭 SHE HAS TO

* I love andarna lol

* MIRA? This bitch better be joining or I’m fixin to throw hands

* She’s gunna kill Brennan

* Or punch him lol he kinda deserved it though so

Chapter 39

* I just am in love with the fact that she hasn’t seen this bitch in years and POW punches him in the face

* Go off Vi

* I don’t know if they’re gunna have wards though. This feels too easy

* Thought so..

* wait iron rain…? Do they have blood moons in this world? Rain under a blood moon would be iron rain

* Oh boy Vi. I would say calm down girl but ya know

Chapter 40

* Xaden is there lol he’s gunna kill her

Chapter 41

* CAT IS HIS NIECE 🤣 I’m dead

* I know Violet isn’t gay but my god she is gay coded. “…shows her elegant figure to its best advantage…” bitch you gay

* I was literally about to say this bitch sounds like Dain

* No but yeah why didn’t violets shields block out Cat?

* Fuck.

Chapter 42

* It’s a shame Xaden didn’t kill him. But violet is correct. Then they wouldn’t have answers

* Brennan. Babes. No hontey. Why we gonna arm these bitches

Chapter 43

* Don’t die lols

* Tairn is so sassy. He really said bitch you didn’t bond a little house cat you bonded a mother fuckin lion

* Tairn says “kill us” he doesn’t think he’ll survive another rider (aka violet) dying. I don’t think I’d heard that from him yet. Like I knew that he was ~unlikely~ to survive but I didn’t know he would admit it

* Awwww a babyyyyyyy

* Lu is gunna die isn’t she. Damn this stupid arrow thingy

* Or ridoc. Ya know whatever. It’s not like I’m attached to any of these characters REBECCA.

Chapter 44

* at least ridoc is okay Brennan got there

* Everybody knows within the area… including the venin

* Right. Great.

Chapter 45

* Good babes. We don’t trust Jack.

* Reddish sheen to andarna’s scales???? Hm interesting

* Runesssssssss

Chapter 46

* AHA. I knew the knives unlocked the door and it had to do with the runes

* Hmmm interesting. So the rune to protect the marked ones was designed to counter the signet of the rider whose dragon would kill them. So melgren’s dragon killed them and the relics do provide the hiding from him thus countering the signet.

* Xaden trained cat too. Yippee

Chapter 47

* should’ve killed her

Chapter 48

* Xaden has a way with words but like in a respectful kind way not a demeaning “I’m better than you” way

Chapter 49

* Hehe

* Dain. Still don’t trust him fully

Chapter 50

* Oh yippee…… here they come

Chapter 51

* Oh well I feel stupid. The translation is iron ~flame~ not iron ~rain~ so what could that mean…. I got nothing for this one

* Oh the dragons lol not the people I would’ve gotten there eventually I promise

* Girl no. Why you gotta say shit like that. Why shouldn’t we raise the damn wards (other than they don’t work but she don’t know that)

Chapter 52

* Rhi is the best

* Treason. Again. How fresh. It’s not like this always leads to trouble

* This is a prophecy not an empty threat. I think the stupid sage is coming into her mind (see: Naolin isn’t dead and is venin and still connected to Tairn and thus Violet) and telling her what will happen. I expect by the end of this book.

* The “let’s go” is giving Shania Twain lol

Chapter 53

* “We don’t eat our allies” lol little buddy poor andrana

* Uh… why is there a breeze?? Am I reading too much into that?

* And now gravity shifts!!? No no no

* TYPICAL. SHOULDVE KILLED THAT BITCH SOLAS TOO

Chapter 54

* Bitch you hurt andarna you fixin to die today whore

* Go for his other eye lol

* She is as Naolin was???? Uh. Okay a siphon sure but Tairn tends to mean things in multiple ways that we don’t always get the first read though so this comment scares me

* Uh yes bitch we’re ready to hear about the deal with her mom

Chapter 55

* Damn wyvern

Chapter 56

* No but for real why wouldn’t they go ahead and power that wardstone?

* Tairn 😭 “she now suffers with a burden that should have been mine”

* Did Xaden just loose control there for a second?

* I wondered if it was related to intentions. Particularly because of the scene with Dain. No way Xaden let him live without knowing his intentions

* Obviously this isn’t the end of it right but yay the wards work!

* Okay the wards kind of work

Chapter 57

* This bitch I swear. He just got here and I hate him (melgren)

* Yes babes dark wielders have runes omg keep up girl

* Stupid runes

* Also just the fact that Brennan pulled a “YOU THOUGHT BITCH” on his own mother

Chapter 58

* If they’ve been sitting there…. It’s not.. it’s some kind of trap…

* Yeah.. well back to where it all started I reckon

Chapter 59

* Of course Brennan won’t go. Bastard

* Andarna baby I swear to god

* Nolon. The bitch. Kill him

* Of course it’s Baide

* Bye bye Baide

Chapter 60

* For once I guess Dain is okay

* Also. Why the fuck. The actual ever loving fuck. Would you keep that bitch alive

* Agree Vi, mistake to leave the stone and after all Violet has done you’d think her mom might consider her daughter’s opinion for more than two seconds

* YAY! Brennan (the bastard) can mend the wardstone (I hope)

Chapter 61

* “no one dies today” bitch. I think they do

* “I am the storm” yeah ya are bitch let’s go

* But for real someone is about to die aren’t they

* Hehe sgaeyl. Hey bestie

* Rhi said bitch I dare you

Chapter 62

* Not the “good maybe you’ll stay in it”

* Why not hopeful…? What won’t Marbh say

* Typical andarna. Like no chance our girl was sitting on the sidelines watching the whole damn thing obviously

Chapter 63

* “That wasn’t hiding” uh.. what’s that mean vi

* THE SEVENTH DRAGON IS ANDARNA BECAUSE SHES NOT GUNNA FIT INTO ONE OF THE TYPICAL DENS THANK YOU VERY MUCH???

Chapter 64

* She just looked a dragon in the face and called his bastard ass out. Alrighty girlie. Go off

* It is because he knows she’s destined for something greater. That’s why he didn’t kill her

* PURPLE!!! HA

* Okay then… bye bye mom….

Chapter 65

* oh no no no. No cheering. I get it wasn’t easy but babes that was too easy

* Told you Xaden would be venin at some point

Chapter 66

* Okay look. Of all people who are gunna know it won’t be Jack barlowe will it???

General

* if Jack isn’t dead and is venin (because how else would he survive that) did his dragon break the bond with him or is he venin with a fucking dragon

* Wait— if Jack is venin then the wards don’t work like they think they do. Because either venin can get through them or they can be “born” in them.

* Not once… not one single time does Brennen or tairn say that naolin is dead. I feel confident he’s alive and venin

* Wait wait wait… does Violet know what Naolin looks like? I think so.. but would she recognize him if he turned venin? Was he the teacher person thingy at Resson?

* Okay.. okay hear me out. I think andarna is going to be one of two things… either she will be purple orrrr with violet’s comment about her looking green but the blowing it off like it was reflective of the grass. So my other thought is that she’s like… a chameleon? And can adjust her color based on what is needed

* BABES. So Melgren (spl?) can’t see groups of the marked ones right? But why? Here’s my thoughts—my first thought was that is was somebody’s signet, but Sarah said no lol. So my second thought, are the dragons masking them? Are they able to do that? Ooo but also what about this— is it in the tattoos? Like the tattoos have runes in them and they are greater in numbers and blah blah blah. The marked ones have to know how it works. Yeah I like the tattoo idea best right now. Because the marked ones can’t be seen even if they haven’t bonded from what I understand so it can’t be dragons.

* Hold the fucking phone. If Brennan is venin or controlled by venin or whatever (see : rune thingy in his hand) is that why the wardstone thing didn’t work?

* Xaden will turn venin at some point. I have no basis for this. It is just a guess. An educated guess based on RY’s writing but a guess. Violet could also? But not sure. I personally like Xaden a bit better

* On the solas is dead note (which I hope he really is but god knows with RY), the whole “two daggers left in solas” thing. That’s gunna come back and bite her in the ass isn’t it?

[im-out-of-it]

SEASON 1, EPISODE 12 “MALEC”

I just want to start off by saying this is thee best episode in all of season one and probably the whole show (at least one of the best.) because this is the moment that Alec finally chooses himself. he’s not just choosing Magnus but he’s finally doing something for himself. this is my favorite episode or at least in my top five. I will warn anyone who doesn’t like long posts that this is going to be broken up in several posts because I want to highlight with gifs of the important scenes and there’s just so many 🥹

1. okay so let’s get to it!!!!!! I want to start off also by saying how important the title of this episode is. it’s Malec. not only did the show provide us with a healthy, fun, entertaining lgbtq+ couple but they made sure it mattered. no other couple in the show has a episode named after them. Malec was an afterthought in the books. literally the writing for it is so messy and lazy and CC didn’t give a fuck about them until it made her money. even most of their stuff, Alec and Magnus don’t have much of a pov. I can’t even remember Magnus’s pov in TMI. the bane chronicles do not count because that is all Magnus.

2. but it’s important that 1. they named an episode Malec. 2. they show Magnus’s feelings as well Alec’s. and 3. who doesn’t love that kiss??????

3. “the cobalt blue. it’s elegant, masculine, very Alec”- Izzy (cough cough mags incoming)

4. what are you trying to say Izzy? 😌

5. “let’s just stick to the mission”- jace. oh so now you care about missions?????? you were fine running off with clary and doing whatever but now the missions matter??? his whole attitude of I don’t need to talk to Alec and he’s busy with the wedding- yeah, busy trying to repair all the damage you started jace

6. “I guess I should thank you, I don’t know what would have happened to Izzy after the trial if you hadn’t come back with the cup.”- Alec. but also let’s remember who is the one that ran off with the cup acting as though they knew better. look I don’t trust the clave, they obviously have their own agenda but I wouldn’t trust clary or jace with my life either. they don’t think and go ahead and do whatever they wish. Izzy could have been deruned if clary and Jace continued to do whatever they wanted- and they almost handed the cup to Valentine. I will say a nice thing about clary, she felt something off with Valentine and if not, Valentine would have the cup already

7. one Malec argument coming right up and one man in cobalt blue

8. Alec: can we have one discussion without drinking?????

9. Magnus: but babe just one drink

10. Alec is like can we not do this????? I need a clear head if I’m about to marry someone I don’t love lmao

11. Magnus is like are you sure?????? let me give it one last attempt

12. I’m giving Magnus all the points

13. I’m so sad for Magnus in this scene like it’s breaking my heart

14. IM SORRY BUT HES SO SAD AND IT MAKES ME SAD

15. Alec: love, how the fuck am I supposed to know if I’m in love with Lydia??????? I just wanted a partnership 😭 (I had to replace the gif because I used the wrong one so I’m going to use this one instead SORRY)

16. I wonder if there’s a part of Alec that views marriage in a completely different way than others would. Magnus thinks marriage (just my take) is between two people who love and adore each other very much. it’s something absolutely serious to him hence might be why he’s never married, and maybe never found “the one”. while Alec has his parents as a guidance.

16. Maryse and Robert have a rocky relationship. Robert has been cheating on Maryse but in the show, alec doesn’t find that out until season three. but children are able to see their parents aren’t happy. and most shadowhunters die at a young age. so while Alec is looking for a partnership to aid his family honor and complete that family duty, he doesn’t feel perhaps in a way it’s based on love. Alec never thought he could have what he wanted. he never once thought it was possible.

17. so all I’m saying, is what if a small part of Alexander thought this with Lydia was the best he could get? if he’s drilled it into his head, maybe he knows the expectations are to marry a woman and not even that, but a shadowhunter. we don’t know if Maryse or Robert has talked about being gay which I highly doubt it, they both seem like the type of parents to never confide in their children- full offense to them. and this is just how I take Alec’s words. I didn’t come up with his character but I do relate to Alec a lot and I do feel as if I know him

18. Alec is constantly the one salvaging his family’s reputation. Izzy tries but look at how Maryse treats him. it’s always “Alec do this, send this report in, watch the institute while we’re out” like this responsibility never falls on jace and I hope it never would but it’s always on Alec. so maybe in a way, Alec feels that he doesn’t have a choice. he’s never been able to feel completely and fully happy being himself. just my take on Alexander though

moving onto part two

[raameen02]

Not All Heroes Wear Capes

(Two Nursing Assistants are walking on their hospital floor casually talking about the political climate in the U.S.)

CASSANDRA: It’s crazy how we have to choose between Biden or Trump… like they’re both old just die already! America is so dumb.

NALA: America is dumb. Half the people are idiots and half of them are normal… it’s like our hospital floor”.

CASSANDRA (chuckling): I know like why are we still here I just want to go home-

(The hospital alarm sounds. “CODE BLUE IN ROOM 432. MEDICAL EMERGENCY CODE BLUE IN ROOM 432. CODE BLUE IN ROOM 432.”)

CASSANDRA: Oh my god. What is he saying? Room 432? Where is everyone?

NALA: I don’t see any of the nurses!

Cassandra rushes down the hall. Nala follows. Cassandra enters room 432. The patient is lying still on the bed, eyes closed.

CASSANDRA (glancing at the whiteboard): What’s his name? Oh my god. Um, Jim. Jim! JIM! JIM!

Cassandra shakes the patient, who remains unresponsive. Cassandra checks the patient’s pulse. She does not feel anything.

CASSANDRA: Oh my god, I have to do CPR. Okay, um, Nala.

Nala does not respond. She continues staring at the patient.

CASSANDRA (forcefully): NALA! GET AN AED!

Nala jumps and rushes out of the room.

Cassandra positions her hands over the patient’s sternum, hands shaking. She interlocks her fingers and begins to push down forcefully at a steady rhythm.

CASSANDRA: 1… 2… 3… 4…. 5…

Nala returns to the room with an AED. Cassandra continues to do chest compressions as Nala sets up the AED.

CASSANDRA (breathing heavily): This guy’s a trainwreck.

Nala glances at Cassandra, then back to the patient.

NALA (scared): So what’s our plan, to keep him alive?

Cassandra stares at Nala.

CASSANDRA (breathing heavily): Oh my god, I can’t believe you just asked that. Nala, get a grip. We’re his only hope at this point. He has a family, we have a duty - shit, how many compressions did I do?

AED MACHINE: PLACE PADS ON PATIENT.

CASSANDRA: I’m taking his gown off. Get the pads ready.

Cassandra removes the gown as Nala places the AED pads on the patient’s chest. Nala pushes a button on the AED machine.

AED MACHINE: GENERATING SHOCK.

Cassandra returns to chest compressions as the shock generates.

AED MACHINE: SHOCK READY. ADMINISTER SHOCK.

Cassandra steps back.

NALA: Ready?

CASSANDRA (out of breath): Yeah.

NALA: ALL CLEAR.

Nala pushes the button. Nala and Cassandra watch as the patient flinches due to the shock. Cassandra checks for a pulse.

CASSANDRA: Oh my god, I think I feel it. Oh my god. Do you feel it?

Cassandra steps back as Nala checks the patient’s pulse.

NALA: Yeah I think I feel it too.

CASSANDRA (putting her fingers back on the patient’s neck): Oh my god, did we do it? Wait, it’s really weak now. Maybe we should-

Three nurses barge in.

NURSE 1: We got it from here. You can leave.

NURSE 2: Yeah, get out please.

CASSANDRA: Okay, we did CPR and his pulse seems to have come back-

NURSE 1: We got it, thanks.

Cassandra and Nala exit the room as the nurses promptly shut the door behind them.

NALA: Okay, we literally got there first and saved the man’s life and that’s how they treat us? The people here are so off-putting.

CASSANDRA: I can’t believe we just did that. I’m so proud of us.

NALA: Yeah… that was cool I guess.

CASSANDRA: I hope I never have to do it again though.

NALA: You did great.

A call bell starts ringing. Cassandra checks to see who it is, then starts walking down the hall.

CASSANDRA: I should go take this. Can’t believe we just did that. See you in a bit.

NALA: See you.

[soft-boi-eli]

Hello Hello!

I just wanted to say I love your fics!

ALSO!

Could I request a CC!SBI X Gn! Insomniac Reader! Where the reader is an insomniac (Obviously-) but is somehow a pro at MC!

Like they are basically god at the game! They also REALLY enjoy horror games! They don’t get scared easily and LOVE horror movies! They basically love anything horror/creepy-

ANYWAYS!!

The reader lives off of ramen and Monster energy drinks (For fun-)! They have a Twitch (Which has about 18 mil followers and 14 mil subs!) and a YouTube channel (Which has 20 mil followers!)

They mainly play horror games (Obviously-) and MC!

You can do headcanons or scenarios/images with the SBI! Maybe like playing a horror game together or MC? OR! Maybe some things they do together? Or when they meet up? Or-to many ideas Nightmare-

ANYWAYS!

I don’t really care! And don’t worry about taking too long on it!

ALSO!

Maybe we could be friends? Only if you want too!

Remember to eat, drink, and get enough sleep!

<3

Yes. I lovesthese ideas and I'm gonna choose headcannons due to they are a bit easierfor me to write.

And yes I'm perfectly fine with being your friend! I'm actually happy to make friends on this app so yeah!

Pronouns:nonbinary

Tw: cussing. Insomia, mentions of horror movies. Mention of horror games. Fluff.

SBI with a horror streamer friend head cannons.

*Ahem* tommy wanted to paly a game with you so you choose a game that didn't look like horror until the middle. He screamed at the jump scare and it made both of your chats so happy.

When phil decides to play with you there is literally a silence after a jump scare. Everyone thought he had a heart attack and honestly so did you until he spoke up about accidently hitting his mute button when he jumped.

Wilbur. He's a bit better then tommy but more scared then phil would be. Any little noise won't get him but when it starts to get noticeable the noiseless to him. The jump scare, he'd fall out of his seat and stay on the ground for a bit. You ask if he's good and he literally doesn't answer. He's dead. You killed him. Congrats.

Techno. He'd handle them a bit better then everyone else. Not as good as you but heisnt very paranoid. He literally runs at the noises trying to get jumpscared. While you run after him telling him to stop because if he doesn't then you'd lose and die. And technoblade never dies.

If you all play together both tommy and wilbur pussy out. Techno last the longest and phil the second longest. While you remain the ruler of horror games.

Now how you all met was dream invited you to the dream smp to add to the chaos. Needless to say it got extremely chaotic due to you being on almost 24 hours. You first ran into techno. He seemed confused and skeptical.

You both found eachothers love for potatoes. You set up camp quote close to techno but not too close.

Phil popped in when he needed something for a build and noticed a new name. Talked to you in chat and asked to join your VC. You both found each other talking for a bit.

Wilbur was next. Wilbur got curious over the new person and just hoppedinto the same VC as you techno and phil. He was quick to realize that you were a famous youtuber. Mainly for your horror videos and your extreme Parkcore skills.

In minecraft that is.

Tommy noticing that all of you were in the same VC joined in with shouting. He was low key jealous that everyone was obsessed with you. Then he saw why.

You literally cracked jokes at his shouting.

"Is that an angry pomeranian? Nah nah. It's an angry child. Even better an angry blonde!" - you.

He was shocked and immediately started joking and laughing with you. He wasn't fully angry for long.

Now about your diet. When they heard that you had only eaten ramen and drank angry drinks they were concerned. You lived quite close to techno so when you guys met up he was shocked that you looked as healthy as you did.

He hated the fact that you literally didn't eat anything else.

You told him occasionally you have something other then ramen but you were just too lazy to really cook anything and that you didn't feel like burning the house down.

One month phil, tommy, wilbur, and techno decided to organize a month long sleep over so that they could celebrate your birthday. Phil being quote the father figure cooked different, but easy dinners every night just so you didn't eat only ramen that day.

When they actually arrived though you got a text from Phil asking about your address in your dms. Not think much of it you just sent him your location.

You were going to take a small nap. Just to bost your energy before you went and streamed later that night.

As you were sleeping there was a car heading to your house.

Phil, wilbur, tommy, and techno were all just existing in the car. And when they arrived to your house they didn't expect to actually see a clean house.

You woke to a loud knock.

When you opened the door in your half dazed state you expected a package. But to see four people standing on your porch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

You were stuck there blinking at them.

Finally snapping out of it you let them in. Confused on why in the ever loving fuck they were here.

Phil explained they were here to celebrate your 21st birthday and they were here for a month.

You stared at them for a while. Confused on what to do since you haven't had people over in almost 2 years.

But you got use to it.

So when you got done streaming and smelled something other then ramen you were thrown off guard. Like what was that. I haven't smelled that in years.

But after the second day you got use to it too.

For your birthday phil literally made a feast.

Like he found your favorite food other then ramen and cooked it. With that he prepared everything you could dream of.

Your sleeping habits. Let's dig into those.

I'm in no place to talk as right now it's 3:05 in the morning. And here I am.

But when they are over they don't let you stay up till no 3-4 in the morning. They all know the importance of sleep.

But there are those nights where no once can sleep and it results in a late night stream. And streaming for hours none the less.

The amount of accidental all nighters everyone has pulled was immense. But that's what happens with jet lag, adhd, and insomnia.

Literally you get tired randomly. Sleep for only 3 hours. Wake up. Drink coffee, energy drinks, highly caffeinated tea. And don't sleep till late at night.

Pillow forts.

It's a must and it happens. Horror movies, pillow forts, and snacks. Like you all are in this massive fort, watching horror movies, one by one you all are falling asleep. You and techno were the last up due to technos active mind and your body not letting you sleep.

You two literally just vide there, changing the movies from horror to some silly animated movies, like how to train your dragon, frozen, Luca, and many others.

You two pull an all nighter and it's actually a bet to see how long anyone else takes to notice.

You bet an hour. Techno says all day.

You won. Philza notices the worse eye bags under both you and technos eyes and immediately starts scolding.

He is papa bird and he won't let anyone of his children neglect their needs.

"Did you even drink water at all? You guys should of been sleeping not binge watching horror movies all night!" -philza

You could only offer a smirk, along with a laugh.

"I think we did I just can't fully remember. Also we were watching animated films. Not horror. Surprised you didn't wake up to let it go." - you.

You turn to techno.

"You owe me 15 bucks pig boy!"-you again.

Handing you the money he rolls his eyes. "Yeha yeah. Rub it in." -techno.

Ah yeah they found a horror game that you were scared of surprisingly. It was actually surprisingly you hadn't played it yet.

Outlast.

You had been holding off that game until you finished your other one but here you were. Bored out of your mind.

So you decided fuck it.

That game teriffed the shit out of you. It was so good though.

When you screamed they all came rushing up due to the fact that you never scream.

They say you out of your chair, on the floor, blinking. They thought you were hurt.

But you sat up and looked at your computer.

"Damn. That was actually really good." When you looked behind you and found the boys all staring you smiled and waved.

"You need something?"-you

"You screamed. We heard a thud. We thought you fuckin died!" -tommy.

"No I'm alive. My soul almost divorced my body but it's still quite here."-you

That day made highlights.

The popular y/n actually got jump scared. The one person who never screamed at horror games screamed.

When they left you were sad yes but they were still your best friends. Ready to talk when ever you want.

Sometimes I think that you guys talk all through out the night. Them forgetting that you were actually in a different time zone.

Sometimes they pop into your streams, be it MC, horror, you just talking to your fans, or even the once in the blue moon, cheerful games.

They just pop in and start talking to you. And you talk back like they were there since the beginning.

Phil is now one of your moderators too. Along with tommy, wilbur, and techno. When they pop in they make sure no one picks on you.

And since you are now close to the SBI. You are now part of it.

You didn't choose the fans did. But they are your new family. No matter what.

Even if they disagree with your eating habit.

Or energy drink addiction.

Or insomnia.

Or you mainly playing horror games.

Or you basically living in your streaming room.

Or even the nearly 24 hour streams.

I could go on but I'm not gonna.

I'm tired. But I can sleep. 2 days and I get to have a tour of my new school.

And it took so long to finally get into it.

We have been going through a huge hassle even before school started to get me enrolled.

And then we had to get me into this program.

But now on Monday I get to go in. Get a tour. Then start either Tuesday or Wednesday.

Anyway hope you liked. It's now 3:50 and it's no proof read I'm sorry

[labyrynth]

i saw this opinion recently that was like

“jgy was doing horrible irredeemable things and showed no sign of stopping (so huaisang was 100% justified in ruining him)”

except that looking at the handful of events we’re aware of, only two, maybe three are things jin guangshan didn’t order jgy to do…and all of them were years ago.

the first is burning down the brothel. the next one is obviously killing jin guangshan. the last one, if it’s something you choose to believe through the ambiguity (i don’t—more under the cut), is killing rusong.

so even if we assume that IS something that jgy did, that was still something like 6-8yrs before the present.

other than that? jin guangyao’s most notable actions as sect leader and chief cultivator were eliminating corruption, and establishing public safety infrastructure. at some point he cut ties with xue yang, though we don’t know how that happened. we don’t hear about anything else.

so uh…sure. jgy showed “no sign of stopping”…much in same way a sleeping bear shows “no sign of stopping.” yes, theoretically dangerous, but not doing anything right now. and you can’t exactly show that you’re stopping if you’re not going to begin with.

jgy really isn’t a threat until he’s threatened—all of the the individuals that he specifically made the decision to kill were, in some way, threatening his ability to exist. when given the agency to make decisions without endangering himself or his loved ones, he genuinely just chills, or chooses to do good.

if you decide to slap a sleeping bear in the ass, anything the bear does in response is kind of on you.

(more about why i don’t think jgy killed rusong or had him killed below)

the text is super ambiguous about rusong. like we just don’t hear much about him in any context.

estimate for when rusong died:

jgy got married before jin guangshan died, which supposedly was about 11yrs prior. qin su was pregnant at the time they married, so rusong would have been about 11-12 in the present. sect leader yao says that rusong died around when formal education would have begun, so we can assume he was somewhere between 4-6yo. hence, 6-8 years ago.

“i killed my father, my brother, my wife, my son…”

jgy says he killed “his son,” which seems like a clear cut confession, but he also says that he killed “his brother,��� and “his wife,” both of which we know are technically false.

zixuan dies onscreen, killed by wen ning as a result of wei wuxian having lost control. jgy did not intend for zixuan to die, nor did he officially kill him, but jgy does still feel responsible. he clearly feels responsible for qin su as well, but quite frankly, i don’t buy the theory that he literally mind controlled her into killing herself (mind control?? really???).

the official story: isn’t it “convenient”

we also know the official story about what happened. many clans were opposed to the watchtowers for a variety of reasons: e.g. they didn’t want to pay for them, didn’t want to staff them, thought that jgy was overstepping by centralizing public safety, thought that jgy was overstepping because jgy was jin guangyao, bastard son of a whore, etc. (the “supervisory office” thing is officially cql only; the reasons above are just the norm in politics). one of the smaller clans was particularly opposed, and had rusong assassinated to send a message to jgy.

sect leader yao also speculates that jgy killed rusong to cover up the fact that his whore-blooded cough i mean his child of incest was “deficient” (you’re not slick, sect leader yao) and then goes off about how “perfectly convenient” it was that the clan that despised jin guangyao and his watchtower plan “just so happened” to attack the son of the guy they more or less wanted dead.

“convenient.” sure. okay.

“it’s the perfect excuse.” yeah. because it probably isn’t an excuse. literally why would “parent murders child because child may potentially possibly struggle with learning & social interaction” be more plausible than “political agent has his political enemy’s son assassinated to send him a message”?

kill sparingly, kill quietly: they should die as they lived.

so the likelihood that rusong was actually assassinated is pretty high, but furthermore, jgy tends to only kill when he feels like he has to, and when jgy killed both jin guangshan and nie mingjue, he specifically used methods that wouldn’t stand out.

jin guangshan, a man with a reputation for his indulgence in sex and alcohol, died from overindulgence during an “orgy”. nie mingjue, a man whose family has a history of qi deviating and dying young, has a qi deviation and dies after many months of clear decline. they died exactly according to the ways that they lived.

most children are not assassinated for political reasons, so we can assume that it drew a LOT of attention at the time, and probably a lot of scrutiny as well. would it have really been worth the risk? worth the attention? worth the grief it caused qin su? we already know that jgy would prefer to spare qin su from bearing unnecessary burdens, so the answer to all of it is “probably not.”

again: there was a fair amount of opposition to jgy’s watchtower plans. framing a clan for the murder of your son WOULD be very efficient in removing that clan as opposition, but that doesn’t do anything about any of the other opposing clans. the benefit is far too small for the cost.

anyway the end

[moonflowerchanniesgirl]

My anxious ass and possible friendships in Stray Kids

disclaimer: this is just for pure fun since I don’t actually know them or their personalities. You will probably learn more about me than you will about then lol. warnings: I am an anxious human

BangChan

hahaha yeah I can’t be friends with him. Okay hear me out, man is literally on the grind 24/7. I’d be so worried about bothering him that I would not contact him first ever. Every text I sent him will start with “sorry to bother you”. Also this man generally so nice my anxiety would 100% go “what if he’s too nice to tell me that I’m super annoying or her hates me?” (Yeah I got issues). Honestly the idea of being his friend is super amazing but I don’t think I could handle it without freaking out.

Lee Know

I feel like he’s the one I’d be most comfortable being friends with. From what I can tell I feel like he’s the type that if he doesn’t like you, he won’t bother talking to you at all or unless he needs to. I can’t really picture him being friendly if he doesn’t want to. A polite distance sorta dude? So if he’s conversing with me at all I think I can be calm enough to note that he doesn’t hate me and my presence. We also are pretty similar in that I make slightly dark or violent jokes with close friends. Just the two of us going “I hate your face go die” but know that just means we’re close lol.

Changbin

changbin is a hard one because half of me is like oh I could become good friends with him. He seems like someone that really tries to understand others and I feel like I wouldn’t have to explain my anxieties as much with him. On the other hand I’d have issues trying to figure out if he’s playfully angry or actually angry. I wouldn’t know if I struck an actual nerve or not and might be too worried to joke around with him.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin generally feels like one of the members that’s hardest to truly get to know. Like he will treat you nice and be friendly but you won’t really be best friends with him until maybe 4-5 years down the line? We’re both people that prefer to have some alone time so we might mesh well in that aspect lol. Just two people sitting near each other painting but no words both listening to our own music and then we might get food but only small talk about art nothing personal. It doesn’t help that I think he’s good at everything he sets his mind to, am I jealous? Maybe just a little…

Han

I feel like we have the most similar personalities but completely different interest lol. I have days where my mood gets pretty bad where I might look upset but its not aimed at someone, I feel like Han might pick up on that more than the others. I’m not sure what we would bond over though, our hobbies and taste are pretty different so finding something is half the struggle. He’s also someone that I would trust to save me from the awkward situations I find myself in due to my anxiety and awkwardness, like he’d crack a joke and everyone forgets about how badly I f something up. Although he and I are both slow to be comfortable around strangers so it might take awhile.

Felix

yeah he’s another member that I worry won’t tell me that I’m annoying or he doesn’t like me out of sheer niceness. I’m also on team if I’m angry I need time to cool down so leave me alone a bit while he’s team let’s talk it out so… that’s gonna be not fun. If we do become friends I honestly don’t think I’d be a good enough friend. He seems like the type to send constant check up messages while I might not rely for days due to having a bad episode. I wouldn’t know how to make it up to him and might just choose to slowly cut contact because I’d feel bad. (Lots of issues I have :))

Seungmin

I had a hard time thinking about because at times he seems too logical for how emotional I am while other times he seems too playful. I feel like he might make a joke that triggers my anxiety or hits a nerve and I’m going to get upset even though he didn’t mean badly. Or I might say I’m anxious about something and he’d say “why even worry about that?”… thanks bro but not helpful for me. I think he takes jokes rather well so I won’t be as worried about accidentally hurting him and if he jokes back I know that’s he’s not really mad.

I.N

With the age difference I don’t know if I could treat him as a friend. Like I want to make him my cute little brother but I feel like he wants a friendship where both friends are equal. He seems like the type to hold everything together so I’d be a little anxious about that just wondering if he’s okay and if he wants to talk to me about to. I might try to “mother” him too much which could result in a pretty bad fall out. He’s only a year younger than 00 line but I still can’t believe people born after 2000 are real. If we were closer in age we could have been friends but it’s gonna be a tricky no from me right now.

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / < This is Part 17!>

Donate to Move to Higher Ground HERE!

Song for this Chapter - (X)

A/N: Soooo I might not update Saturday this week because I’ve been pretty slammed at work this week. If anyone would like to Beta read the next two parts of this series (Especially if you’re BIPOC) pls DM me. The next part I’m not so concerned about, but the part after. (Also need Beta readers for my original pieces!) 

* Your legs dangle beneath you as you continuously bump your head against the tree trunk hoping the contact will knock some sense into you

* It doesn’t even hurt, barley a tickle.

* You decided that the safest, and least embarrassing, place for you right now was up a 100 foot tall tree.

* You came here for some peace and quiet, to get away from everyone and sort out your thoughts

* Not that it matters since half the coven has been up here to talk to you

* Carlisle came first, though you’re betting he pulled the “dad” card so he could go first.

* “Lovely view.”

* “Hmm” you mumble

* He lets out a deep sigh, and you hate yourself for not making this easier for him.

* “So I heard that you and Edward had a .... romantic encounter.”

* You laugh

* “A romantic encounter,” you repeat, you look at Carlisle who mirrors your smile.

* “Edward does that too” He mumbles. Carlisle doesn’t miss the way you stiffen at the mention of his name.

* A long, deep sigh escapes him

* “I just want you to know that it’s fine,” He’s sitting far away from you on the branch, partially because of your powers and partially because he understands you want space.

* “You’re two healthy vampires and I understand you have needs-“

* “Oh my god Carlisle please don’t tell me you’re giving me “the talk” right now on a tree branch” you’re mortified but you’re laughing

* “I just want you to know that however you choose to proceed, I love and support you.”

* And then Carlisle does something he hasn’t done in a decade,

* he inches closer, breaking into your personal bubble and gives you a kiss on the forehead and a pat on your shoulder

* You smile after he leaps down and runs back to the house

* He hasn’t done something like that since he found you in Volterra, newly turned and asking to die.

* Truly a compassionate man.

* Rosalie’s the next one, she actually calls your attention from the ground

* “I brought you some blood in case you’re hungry” she shouts, holding up a thermos with what you assume is blood.

* You sigh, it looks like you won’t be getting much space

* She leaves just as much space as Carlisle when she sits by you on the branch

* “Nice view up here huh?” She even cups a hand over her eyes to see further

* This family and small talk

* “Do you want to talk about it?” She finally asks after a long moment of silence.

* You shake your head

* “Not really” she nods, lacing her fingers together on her lap. There’s another long moment of silence

* “Does everyone know?” She raises an eyebrow and you clarify 

*“That Edward felt that way I mean.”

* Rosalie gives you a smirk that basically says, ‘I thought you didn’t want to talk about it’, but she doesn’t tease you any further. 

*She lets out a long sigh and looks down to her hands

* “Remember that time you came to our house for the first time to play monopoly?” 

*You nod. 

*“Most of us pieced it together back then”

* You sigh, all the way since back then?

* It’s been over a decade.

* “Mostly because we usually don’t have board game nights, and Edward asked if we could so he could have an excuse to bring you over”

* That dork. 

*You can’t help but smile.

* Of course Edward saw how lonely you were in that house and decided to find an excuse to get you five other friends.

* Another long moment of silence passes

* “Look I- I know Edward is my brother and I would be thrilled if you guys got together-“ 

*she places her hand on top of yours.

* “But I want you to know that I love you, and if you decide that’s not what you want, then that’s okay.”

* Her eyes are so kind, she gives you a gentle smile.

* “No matter what you decide, I’ll still love you, you’re still my best friend-my (sister/brother).”

* You feel your eyes sting and you nod, you give her a weak smile and she sighs wrapping you in a hug.

* “I’ll come back later with more blood” she caresses your face before jumping down, running back to the house

* As soon as she’s out of sight you feel your branch bend down

* “Great view, you see any bears yet?” Emmett asks and you sigh, swirling the cap of your thermos off

* “Care for a drink Emmett?”

* “Well don’t mind if I do”

* Out of all of them, you think you like Emmett’s interaction the best

* He doesn’t talk about Edward, just makes conversation with you like nothing is wrong, like you’re staying up this tree like a stranded cat because it’s fun

* “I heard you kissed a bunch of people at the party” you groan and put your face in your hands

* “I was drinking, I guess I drank too much, and made some questionable decision.”

* He grins and pats your shoulder

* “It’s not that big of a deal, we’ve all been there. Besides I thought it was pretty bad ass.”

* You smile, of course he would.

* Emmett doesn’t sit far away from you like the others, he sits beside you and swings his arm over your shoulder bringing you into a hug.

* “Don’t stress out about things too much up here, and when you’re ready don’t be embarrassed to come home.” He plants a kiss in your hair before swooping down

* That’s your big brother for you

* It’s not more than ten minutes until you feel the branch away again

* “Oh my god, can’t I have just a minute-“ the words die in your throat when you turn to see who’s sitting next to you.

* “Oh, hey Edward.”

* He’s sitting just as far as Carlisle and Rosalie were, if not further, he offers you a brief smile.

* A long moment of silence fills the air and you gulp

* “It’s a real nice view huh?” You say,

* oh geez now you’re the one talking about the view

* “Yeah it’s beautiful.” Edward’s not looking at the view, he’s looking at you, and the implication makes you even more flustered than you are.

* You watch Edward, he’s so happy he’s glowing. Every few seconds a smile will creep onto his face only for him to force it into a frown, only for it to twitch back into a smile again. 

* You laugh.

* “You’re doing that thing where you can’t hide how happy you are.” 

* Edward openly grins once you say that.

* “You’re happy too, I can feel it all the way from here.” He says holding a hand out.

* Ah your powers are leaking through

* Looks Rosalie and Carlisle just wanted to look serious when they were here

* “Of course I’m happy” 

* He told you he loved you, how could you not be happy?

* He basically confirmed your wildest wishes and hopes.

* This is the happiest you’ve ever been

* “I don’t understand why you’re sitting up here honestly,” he shakes his head boyish smile curling onto his face as his eyes stay focused on the horizon. “I know you feel the same way as I do”

* He’s right, you do feel the same as him.

* Maybe for just as long as he has, you’ve just been holding yourself back because you thought he would never have those feelings for you

* Because you’re not the one who’s going to make him the happiest he could possibly be

* “Look Edward, I think you could do so much-“

* “Is this about Bella?” He interrupts, a bitter laugh when you remain silent. “Why do you think I would ever love her?”

* “The way you look at her-“

* “I don’t get that either, you talked about that last night too, I’m not sure what you’re seeing but the look I give her is of minimal tolerance.”

* ...

* Wait

* What

* “Oh cut the crap Edward, I saw the way you guys looked at each other on the stairway”

* “What stairway?” 

*Is he trying to play dumb? Because honestly- you’re a little convinced with that confused puppy look he’s giving you

* “At Conner’s party, you guys were talking at the stairwell, you looked at her like she was telling you all of the universe’s secrets.”

* He looks embarrassed, a hand tangling in his hair. 

* “Um- about that-”

* You caught the criminal red handed. He might like you, but he likes her too doesn’t he. Well he’s probably entranced by that scent of hers, no doubt he’ll forget all about you-

* “We were talking about you.” 

* ....

* (Y/N). Exe is broken

*  “While you were gone, we both came to an agreement to set our differences aside for you-”

* Why would they go that far for you, it’s not like you care-

* You remember the vitamins

* Going out of your way to include her in things, 

* Driving her home even when any normal person would have just ignored the whole thing

* Oh my god, you’re Bella’s best friend

* And even worse, everyone probably thinks she’s your best friend too. 

* (Y/N). Exe is broken

* “Don’t misunderstand for a second, I still find her absolutely repulsive, and whatever haze she’s got over the school is absolutely perplexing-”

* “But what about the carnation?” you interrupt.

* She’s the only one he bought a carnation for.

* “What carnation?”

* “The carnation you bought her on Valentine’s Day!” 

* Sure one carnation isn’t anything compared to the bouquet he bought you, but it had to mean something

* “I didn’t buy anyone any carnations.” He tells you, his eyebrows threading together

* Oh f*ck

* f*ck *f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck *f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck *f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck

* You bought Bella that carnation.

* You bought all of your friends carnations, light red ones for friendship

* “Were you jealous because you thought I bought her flowers and not you?” 

*A mischievous grin arch’s onto his mouth and you hide your face in your hands 

*“You were, weren’t you? That’s adorable.”

* The criminal is teasing you, only this time you can’t complain because it’s rightly deserved

* “But- then what were you talking at the lockers about?”

* Edward’s face pinches into a look of disgust.

* “She came by to rub in my face how you had given us both the same colored carnations”

* “Wait-Bella knows you felt this way about me?”

* He laughs

* “(Y/N/N), I’m pretty sure everyone knows I love you.”

* Everyone but you apparently

* Was it really all in your head?

* Edward has loved you this entire time and you just...never noticed?

* “Honestly, I love you (Y/N), but sometimes you get fixated on these ideas for no logical reason-“

* Oh there’s a logical reason alright

* “-like what possible reason could there be for me to love a human like Bella? It’s just comple-“

* “Because you’re supposed to Edward!” 

* It’s the straw that finally broke the camels back.

* You tell him everything, about everything that happened in the books.

* Him falling in love with Bella, killing James, leaving her in new moon, the werewolves, the newborn army led by Victoria, their marriage and Bella’s pregnancy

* You frame it like you had a prophetic dream the night you turned, which is probably the closest way you can explain what happened without looking insane.

* Not that Edward would mind, he would probably get the best recommendation from Carlisle for a mental health institute and happily visit you three times a week with flowers and other gifts. 

* You both sit in silence after you finish telling him everything, the only sound the gentle whistle of the wind.

* “So what?”

* He asks, shrugging his shoulders and looking at you like you just told him a tv show he doesn’t like is getting cancelled

* You scoff in disbelief

* “ So what? Edward she’s your soul mate!”

* “You’re my soul mate” he says plainly, he’s inched closer to you this entire time, and now his thigh is only a flew inches away from your own.

* You feel embarrassed at his words, how can he say that so easily? 

*You’re still not even sure soul mates exist.

* Noticing you embarrassment he places his hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers

* The contact makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

* “I understand that you think that story is the one I want,” he says it slowly. 

* “But there’s already so many thing that are different.”

* He’s right things have changed, you know that.

* “Besides I don’t think I’m the one Bella has a crush on” he gives you a meaningful look and your eyebrows thread together.

* Wait what’s that supposed to mean

* “This world is different than the one you saw.” He squeezes your hand, and you sigh, 

* It’s different because of you.

* He should have had all those things. If it weren’t for you he would have had all those things

* “Edward she can give you a baby, a real baby that’s yours!”

* There’s only one common thread for all the vampires you’ve seen that still hunger for their humanity

* They all want a child.

* What Edward is getting, it’s a miracle. A Hail Mary. The odds of something like this happening are one in one billion at best.

* He gets to have a baby, and the woman he loves. It’s a win-win.

* He sighs and squeezes your hand.

* “But I don’t want that.” He says it so bluntly, like it’s the simplest thing on earth. 

*Your brain stops working.

* Well that can’t be right

* “We’ve never talked about it, but I’ve never wanted children, not even when I was a boy and still human.”

* Wait Edward doesn’t want kids? 

* Your head snaps up to meet his eyes

* “I think to want to bring children into the world you have to be at peace with the world and with yourself. And I’ve never been able to have either of those things.” He shrugs, his legs swinging under him.

* “What you saw- I was probably just going along with whatever Bella wanted, but I don’t think I would genuinely want to raise a child in this world, especially not when I look like I’m seventeen for the rest of my life”

* That makes sense. 

*Edward’s always been sensitive about his age. He looks older than 17, probably because of the venom. 

*But he’s the youngest of all his siblings, you know deep down he can handle the vampirism,

* But he can’t handle being a child for all of eternity.

* “But even if I did want kids, I want an eternity with you even more.”

* He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back, gulping the burning in your throat

* Whether it’s from thirst or the overwhelming emotions you’re not sure

* “Okay.” You finally say after several long moment of silence 

* “Okay, you’ll be mine for eternity or...” 

* You slap him lightly on the chest and he barks laughing

* “Okay...we can... date.” You say it haltingly, carefully even.

* “Like humans” you add for good measure

* You expect a bit of protest from Edward, he’s been waiting for you for over a decade now, you can’t think of a man alive who would be alright with just dating.

* But Edward smiles like you just agreed to marry him. He puts a hand on your face, and caresses your cheek with his thumb.

* “Alright, we’ll date like humans do.”

* You’re still a little worried but you find yourself smiling when Edward presses his forehead against your own. 

* His lips meeting yours.

* “(Y/N) and Edward sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” You tease when he pulls away and he laughs again

* “You’re the worst you know that?”

* “Yet you still love me,” you tease “you loooooove me, you waanaaaa spend eeeeternity with meeee.” You sing and he laughs.

* “Suddenly I’m regretting my decision to court you.” 

* You sit in silence for a second, enjoying his scent. 

* It feels safe here

* It feels like home

* “Are you ready to go inside?”

* You should, you feel a lot better now, but-

* You groan and bury your face in his shoulder.

* “It’s going to be so embarrassing, everyone’s going to know what happened and Emmett is never going to stop with the sex jokes”

* Edward just grins, he can’t believe after waiting for so long, you’re his now.

* It feels like a dream

* You’re right though, it’s is going to be super embarrassing going back home after this.

* He gets why you chose to wait it out in a tree

* “Yeah, let’s stay out here for a while longer.” He says wrapping his arms around you.

BONUS:

* Rosalie is peering out the window with gold opera glasses to her hand

* “Oh! He leaned in closer! I think he’s holding their hand”

* Alice groans beside her

* “No they’re just talking, they’re going to be doing that a lot”

* “What else do you see Alice?” Jasper asks from behind her, watching the tree you and Edward are sitting on intently

* “I’m not sure...it’s all changing really fast, in one they make up and go back to being friends,”

* Emmett groans from behind her, he can’t handle anymore yearning or weird sex talks with his brother

* “In another they push Edward of the branch and say: “oh why don’t you just go back to Bella you human lover””

* Rosalie shudders, well that’s not good

* Honestly she should have just told you Bella and Edward had come to an agreement to be civil around one another for your benefit while you were gone

* They basically bonded over how much they like you

* The carnation was probably just a sign of that truce, if it was even from him

* She’s got a feeling it was probably from you and you just forgot, but she didn’t want to embarrass you 

* Besides she figured it might be the final push you need to admit your feelings to him

* “They’re kissing! You guys they’re kissing!” Alice shrieks, and all of them turn their attention back to you

* Ah so you are

* “And so end the brooding chronicles” Jasper whispers and Rosalie hides a laugh

* “I would call them the yearning chronicles” Alice adds

* “Have you considered that maybe the reason they’re out there is because they want privacy?” Carlisle says without looking up from his open newspaper.

* The four of them shuffle awkwardly before walking away from the large window

* “You too Esme” Carlisle says

* Esme sighs, tucking her black opera glasses into her apron

* “Don’t blame me when we don’t have anything to say at the wedding when it comes time for a toast” she mumbles, walking back to the kitchen to finish her cookies

* “A wedding?”

* Queue Carlisle half sobbing half wheezing into his newspaper

* “Not one, but two kids leaving the family?”

Tags:  @moonlights27​ @thebluetint​ @the100thtwilight​ @awesomebooklover17​ @oneofthepotterheads​ @smileygirl08​ @imdoingathingmom​ @iconicgguk​ @yrawn​ @alyciaswhore​ @little-horror-show​ @wicked-watering-can​ @lazydreamers​ @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt​​​ @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796​​ @moose-squirrel-asstiel​​ @hotmessgoodness​ @jaimewho​ @corabmarie​ @what-am-i-doing10​ @alluring-venus​ @imdoingathingmom @anotheryooniverse​ @im-tired-not-sleepy​ @emmettcullenisahimbo​ @my-super-musical-life​ @smolvampiregirl​ @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream​ @mihikaahujaaa​

[sakura-83]

Things from Anne with an e that I feel like writing down

Season 1 Episode 6: Remorse Is the Poison of Life

1. Diana having to run through the dark with nothing but a lantern and quite reasonably tripping. I never really thought about how dark it would actually be out because there’s always light.., somewhere in a modern city. It’s dark but you can usually still see

2. Every time Anne and Diana are separated they end up reunited during some great tragedy and are like “I missed you so much!!” Like yeah that’s great but. Please focus

3. It’s terrifying how easily children could die before modern medicine. They still can die very easily and that’s still terrifying but back then there was no quick fixes or easily accessible help

4. “It’s an old wives tale.” “I might be one but not the other. Evidently one doesn’t have to be either thing to know it.”

5. Anne knowing how to treat croup because all of Mrs. Hammond’s sets of twins had it

6. “I was supposed to be a boy but when I wasn’t, they decided to keep and raise me.” “How extraordinary!”

7. Minnie May almost choking to death on her own phlegm and Anne ultimately saving her because there’s no way the doctor would’ve made it all the way from Soencervale in time

8. “I believe I need a brandy.”

9. It’s really interesting how much of the script comes straight from the book

10. “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are white frosts, aren’t you?”

11. John Blythe’s love for adventure and how Gilbert undoubtedly sees it in Anne

12. Eliza apologizing for how she misjudged Anne

13. “My darling Diana”

14. “I can’t tie myself down to anything so unromantic as dishes at this thrilling moment!”

15. “Even aunt Josephine said she’d like to see you again, and she doesn’t like anyone.”

16. “Shes disinclined to stay home alone since her companion passed away.” “Her companion?” “Her best friend forever and ever.”

17. “Aunt Josephine never married. Neither of them did, they lived with each other their whole lives.” “I’d live with you forever if I could. But I know you’ll leave me the date you get married to some wealthy and handsome gentleman. I hate him already.” “How’s Gilbert?”

18. “It’s very likely Gilbert’s father isn’t going to get well, so it’s more than possible that when Gilbert finally comes back to school… he’ll be an orphan.”

19. The cut from that conversation to John Blythe’s funeral

20. Matthew grabbing Marilla’s arm because he knows how much john meant to her

21. Gilbert watching the snowflakes melt in his hand

22. Marilla’s flashback

23. Young Marilla teasing john

24. Him giving her the same hair ribbon she later gifts to Anne

25. Anne and Gilbert being just like their parents, mirroring their romance and yet achieving the love Marilla and John could never have

26. Anne trying to make Gilbert feel better but making it seem like it’s about her. I often find it hard to articulate my relation to others in a way that does sound like I’m relating and not like I’m making it about me

27. Aunt Josephine on a stroll in the woods

28. Anne’s ranting about her “extensive knowledge of being an orphan”

29. Her calling Gilbert a dumb boy and refusing to think about him

30. “Romance is a pesky business. No sense to be made of it.”

31. “May I enter your humble abode.” About Anne’s run down little shed

32. “I couldn’t be less interested in Gil- that boy!”

33. “Let your ambitions and your aspirations be your guide.” “But I have so many!”

34. “I’ve always wanted to be a bride, but I don’t really expect to be a wife.” “Interesting!” “So you see the conundrum.” “I do. I have the following thoughts to offer. First, you can get married any time in your life, if you choose to do so.” “That’s true-“ “And two, if you choose a career, you can buy a white dress yourself, have it made to order and wear it whenever you want.” “Why didn’t I think of that!? I love that idea! I’m going to be my own woman!” “I’m a proponent for making ones own way in the world.”

35. “If you become a doctor, perhaps you can discover a cure for old age.”

36. Anne calling aunt Josephine her new role model, as well as Marilla and Matthew

37. “I’m going to be the heroine of my own story.”

38. Marilla finding an old letter from John

39. The theme Unrequited Love playing during this scene

40. It’s fascinating when you come to recognize the instrumentals by name, the names actually have a lot of double meanings in relation to the show. Fire in The Town not only plays when there’s an actual fire, but also when Anne’s rumors about prissy set the town ablaze

41. “If the key to a mans heart is through his stomach-“ “Which it is!” “Then, we have to make sure that this is the best shepherds pie that Gilbert has ever had.”

42. Anne wanting a boy to loved for her brain and personality rather than her abilities to keep a home

43. “Don’t you think Gilbert looks even more handsome now that he’s sad?” “I didn’t notice.”

44. I just noticed aunt Josephines mourning clothes, I know she was grieving but I didn’t put two and two together

45. “Take the boy the godforsaken pie before I suffer a mental collapse.”

46. Anne rambling excitedly about Jane Eyre.

47. Anne almost spoiling the book, just like Gertrude used to do

48. Anne suddenly breaking down over death. I’ve done that before, far more frequently in middle school when I realized that we all die someday

49. “It must be awful beyond measure to lose someone that you love deeply. In a split second, a heartbeat, they’re gone forever… and there is nothing you can do to change it or bring them back…”

50. “Anne? You’re crying on the potatoes.”

51. “There’s nothing wrong with saying ‘I’m sorry for your loss’, Ruby. And I’m going to say it because I am.” “You’re just going to make it worse if you say that. His father!! Just died!!!” “That’s what people say when someone dies.” “I don’t want you to upset him.” “He’s already upset because his father just died!”

52. “We hope you like shepherds pie.” “Everyone LIKES shepherds pie 😡. We hope it’s a comfort to you, Gilbert.🥰”

53. Anne telling “but I would make a terrible wife!” And running out.

54. Matthew offering to help Gilbert get his farm back in order

55. Gilbert not wanting to be a farmer but having an entire farm shoved off on him when his only family does, despite being… 14 at most? 15 maybe?

56. Matthew losing all his crops when the Dal Marie sank

57. Billy wanting Gilbert back to control the “ugly orphan” and Gilbert defending Anne

58. “She’s smart, deal with it.”

59. Gilbert telling billy to read a book for once

60. “I’ll give you a tip, okay? I’m not your bud. And if you ever hassle Anne again, you’ll regret it.”

61. “What’s your problem?” “Ask me that again. No, seriously. Go ahead.” “Why you gotta be like that?” “Ask me!” “…what’s your problem?”

62. Gilbert throwing his stuff at billy to preoccupy his hands and THEN punching him straight in his stupid face

63. The boys are fighting!!!! And rolling around in the snow too that’s kind of funny looking

64. Gilbert beating billy in that fight

65. Marilla telling Gilbert about his father

66. All of Gilbert’s siblings died

67. Gilbert’s father taking him to Alberta before he died, where Gilbert was born

68. “You resemble him in many ways.”

69. “He asked you to go?” I’ll always be grateful to him for thinking I’d be brave enough. Obligation… can be a prison.”

70. Anne trying to write a letter to Gilbert apologizing for what she said

71. Anne visiting aunt Josephine for advice and accidentally interrupting her grieving

72. “Emotion is rarely convenient and often intolerable, but I find at the moment that I don’t mind it.”

73. “Grief is the price you pay for live, you see. So it’s alright.”

74. “You and I are not the marrying kind.” “Ah, but I was, in my way. And we had a full and wonderful life together, and I gave no regrets. That’s all you really have to decide Anne, to live a life without regrets.”

75. Anne kissing aunt Josephine on the cheek and running off to live said life

76. No Matthew don’t make that loan deal!!!

77. Anne sprinting to Gilbert’s house bit for the first time of many to come, being too late to reach him.

[broqkenhearted]

𝕸𝖞 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊

𝕸𝖞 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊: Chapter 3

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

𝕹𝖊𝖝𝖙: Chapter 4

𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘: Chapter 2

𝕿𝖆𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: Look at Bottom of Chapter (you can comment or message if you want to be in my tag list) 

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: An innocent school girl is new to SOPA. She becomes friends with the President of the school and his group. Y/N sees this one group of boys and one of them intrigues her. These boys are the “badasses” of the school and act all cold. But there is more to this boy than what is seen on the outside. This boy is no other than a vampire who is in the gang named Ateez, and finds his mate, who is none other than the innocent school girl. What love will blossom between these two?

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: bits of fluff, smut, angst, highschool au, vampire au

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: vampire!san x reader

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 4,515

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: blood, swearing, mature content (warnings beforehand)

Yunho POV

I could feel Y/N relax behind me as she snuggled herself into my back. I couldn't help but smile. She really was something else.

"Cute," I mumbled.

I hope she'll except us for who we are...

Y/N POV

The motorcycle ride ended a lot faster than I had expected. It was quite relaxing actually. I could ride all day if I could.

I hopped off the bike and took the helmet off. When I took it off, I swung my hair around in an effort to get it less tangled. I could see San staring at me as I did so. I looked over to him and it looked like his eyes just flashed purple??? I'm prolly losing my mind, so I just brushed it off. The boys invited inside their house, and may I tell you, they own a mansion. A big ass mansion to be in fact.

I was gawking at it, until I heard some of the boys chuckle.

"Holy shit, how rich are y'all?" I asked.

"A lot richer than you think," Seonghwa said cockily.

"Oh well no shit Sherlock," I responded rolling my eyes.

When we all entered the front door, the rain began to pour buckets over the city.

The house gave me an awfully sketchy vibe,  it was really dark and gloomy. "They have all this money, and they choose to live in this dark ass mansion," I thought.

"I guess I should thank y'all for making sure I don't drown in the rain," I said giggling.

"It's not a problem! In all honesty, we're surprised you walked away from Twice like that," Hongjoong responded.

"Why? They're the average obsessed bitches. Always trying to grab the popular boys' attention," I said rolling my eyes.

"Well yeah, but they won't hesitate to make your life total hell," Wooyoung sighed.

"If they seriously think I'm going to let them walk over me, they're wrong. If someone ends up dead, don't be surprised," I growled.

The guys looked at me surprised.

I sighed. "Yeah I know, I don't seem to be the person who would act like that, right? Well I'm super stiff around new people. That's why I act shy. But when people get on my nerves, shit goes down. So I'm telling y'all this now.....don't fuck with me."

"And what if we do?" Seonghwa said, smirking.

"Is that a challenge, Seonghwa?"

"Maybe...."

Immediately, I shot a serious stare at him. At first, I decided to play a stare off with him at first. I slowly walked towards him, then pounced. I tackled him to the ground and and put him in a headlock. I was in a position where I could pin his arms and legs down so he couldn't fight back.

"I told you, don't fuck with me."

At that moment, Seonghwa's eyes turned red like how San's changed earlier. I pushed him off of me and got up. I looked from Seonghwa to San in confusion.

My confused face made everyone else just as confused.

"What's wrong?" Mingi asked.

"Your eyes," I responded blandly.

At that moment all the guys except San showed faces of panic.

"Why did they turn red?"

"I think you're seeing things, Y/N."

"How could I be seeing things when it happened to San and Seonghwa?"

Yunho glared at San. San shrugged.

"Explain. I'm not stupid. You know your eyes did that. And, why the hell are you wearing clothes like that?"

"Before we say anything, please don't be scared and run off," Wooyoung sighed.

"Talk," was all I said.

The guys looked at each other as if they were trying to decide who would speak.

"Fine, I'll say it because y'all are being to big of pussies to talk," San growled. "We're vampires."

I began to laugh my ass off.

"V-Vampires?" I said between laughs. "Great joke guys."

I was suddenly pinned against a wall.

"This isn't a damn joke," San said.

His eyes were turning a dark crimson this time. I could see his fangs start to come out.

I was trying to process what was happening when San let me go.

"And before you ask, no, we aren't going to drink your blood and kill you," Jongho said.

"I should go home," I mumbled.

"You aren't going anywhere," San retorted.

"And why the hell do YOU care?" I spat.

"Are you ok?" Yunho asked.

"No, I'm not ok!" I yelled. "I fucking knew you guys were familiar. I should've known better than this."

"What do you mean?" Wooyoung replied sadly.

"What do I mean? WHAT DO I MEAN!? YOU ASSHOLES KILLED HER!" I was crying at this point.

I looked back at the guys to see their eyes change to blue. I walked over to San and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"You fucking murdered my best friend," I said as I threw San to the ground.

The guys were shocked. No one has ever treated San like that. San's eyes turned black. I was a bit startled to see his eyes change to that color, but I shook the feeling off.

"You asked for it bitch!" San screamed.

The guys rushed to hold him back but I stopped them.

"Don't. I'm not scared of him or what he can do. If he's going to kill me, let him. At least she won't be alone up there anymore."

Third Person POV

Y/N collapsed on the ground in tears. The boys were heartbroken. San even felt his heart hurt a little bit. The guys looked at the poor girl unsure of what to do.

"Where's the bathroom?" Y/N asked quietly.

"Down the hallway, first door to the right," Hongjoong responded.

WARNING: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE AFTER THIS POINT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Y/N got up and followed his directions to be lead to a large bathroom. Y/N locked the door and slid down against it sobbing. Little did Y/N know, the guys could hear and see her thoughts. Soon they could smell her blood.

"Guys, is that her blood!?" Yeosang asked frantically.

Yeosang decided that he wouldn't wait for their answer and just booked it to the bathroom.

"Y/N, please open the door!"

There was no response. Not even the sound of her crying could be heard. Yeosang teleported into the bathroom to see a horrific sight. Yeosang called for the guys to come, and they all teleported in to see an unconscious Y/N in Yeosangs's arms with blood pooling out of her wrists and neck. Seonghwa, being the healer of the group dashed towards a crying Yeosang. He lifted Y/N into his arms and booked it into his room to help her. The guys turned back towards Yeosang. They have rarely seen him cry before, and the fact that he was crying over a girl he met in one day was shocking.

"I-I can't believe I'm s-saying t-this, but W-Wooyoung's right. She's d-different," Yeosang barely spoke. "She c-can't die!"

The rest of Ateez felt the same way. She was different, special even. All they knew was that they were going to protect her.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was frantically working to stop the bleeding and stitch her up. He managed to successfully do so, and he soon found himself looking at the poor girl. He walked out of his room to meet with the very worried guys.

"I think she'll be ok," Seonghwa said.

"I can't believe she actually tried to kill herself," Wooyoung said. "How are we even going to talk to her? She said we killed her best friend, she hates us!"

The guys groaned and sighed in agreement with Wooyoung.

2 Hours Later

"Urrggh," Y/N said as she woke up.

She looked around to realize that her wrists and neck are bandaged up and that she's in an unfamiliar room. Y/N arose from the bed she was laying in and proceeded to walk out. The room was attached to the hallway, so Y/N easily found her way to the living room. She could hear the sound of male voices, so Y/N assumed it was the guys. Y/N had to use the assistance of the walls to walk, so when Y/N got to the end of the hallway, she stood there leaning against the cool wall. The boys could hear movement behind them, and when they turned around they saw you there leaning against the door frame with glossy eyes. Y/N resumed her efforts of walking but San was the first person to teleport to her. He could see the pure emptiness and sadness in her eyes and it broke him apart. Before she could reject, San picked Y/N up and carried her over to the couch. She was placed between San and Seonghwa.

"How are you feeling?" Seonghwa asked.

"I've been a lot better," Y/N said with a small smile.

The guys realized that no matter what the situation is, Y/N manages to make the situation a lot lighter and brighter.

"Y/N, we are so sorry," Hongjoong started.

Y/N sighed, "I appreciate your apology, but you should know that I probably won't forgive you for it. She was the only person who made my life have light, so not having her here is really difficult."

"You look really tired, Y/N," Yeosang said.

"I just have to move around to get my blood flow back up that's all," She said.

Y/N looked back at Yeosang to his the fear in his eyes.

"You were the person who walked in, weren't you?" Y/N asked Yeosang.

Yeosang couldn't answer her. He could only let out a quiet tear.

"Come here," she said.

Yeosang hesitantly went in her direction, and stood before her. Y/N signaled for San to get up, and San followed. She patted the now open seat next to her, and Yeosang took the spot. What Y/N did next shocked everyone in the room. She hugged Yeosang and snuggled into him.

"I'm so sorry you had to walk in to find me like that," was all she said.

Yeosang couldn't help but hug her back and cuddle with her. San was looking at the two people feeling anger and jealousy boil through his veins.

"Just because I'm not a vampire doesn't mean I can't sense your guys's jealousy. So if you want a hug you gotta fight for a spot next to me," Y/N smiled.

Y/N let go of Yeosang and sat up. Seonghwa engulfed her into a large hug. She returned the hug and rubbed his back. Soon, the rest of the boys hugged her and inhaled her addictive scent. San was the only member left. This time, Seonghwa got up and let San fill his spot. He looked at her with grey eyes and then gently hugged the girl. To San, Y/N felt so small and fragile. She fit into his arms perfectly. He never wanted to let her go. She snuggled into him closer and San looked up to the guys. He gave them a look that showed how much he cared for her. There was a peaceful silence until Yunho broke it.

"Has anyone ever told you how good you smell?"

"No, what do I smell like?"

"You smell like vanilla and roses!" Yunho exclaimed happily.

"I don't use anything that has that smell though?" Y/N announced.

"Wait that means that's your natural scent! I have never met a human that smells as good as you do," Wooyoung stated.

Y/N giggled at the compliment and her laugh made the guys' hearts melt.

"I take it you wore those outfits to hide from the sun?" Y/N asked referring to the dark outfits the guys were wearing.

"Sorta. They also hide our identities from other people. There are some people who know us for what we are we hide ourselves using these clothes," San responded.

Y/N looked at her phone to check the time, and she saw that it was about 7:30 at night. The rain has stopped awhile ago, so Y/N could go home now.

"I guess I should head out so I'm not a bigger burden than I already am," Y/N said looking at the guys.

"In the condition you're in, you're not going anywhere. If you run into other vampires, they will not hesitate to drain you," Jongho said.

Y/N nodded her head in understanding what Jongho said.

"You can sleep in my room tonight, I'll sleep on the couch," San told Y/N.

"I'm not about to let you sleep on the couch in your own home," Y/N fought back.

"Y/N you need to sleep on a bed. Especially with your injuries," Seonghwa said.

"But I feel bad!"

"It's either you sleep in his bed, or he sleeps in it with you," Mingi said.

Y/N displayed a light blush on her face and looked down.

"Where is the bedroom?" Y/N asked nervously.

"It's down the hallway, last door on the left," San chuckled.

"Oh! Before you go, here are some clothes!" Wooyoung said handing her a hoodie and boxers. "If you want to take a shower, you may."

"Thanks Wooyoung!" Y/N said giving him a hug. "I'm going to take a shower then go to bed. Night guys!"

"Night Y/N!" all the guys said together.

Y/N headed towards the bathroom she was in earlier to see a light red stain on the tile floor.

"Yikes! How could I be stupid enough to think that BLOOD wouldn't stain the tile?" Y/N said to herself aloud.

Y/N undressed herself and took the bandages Seonghwa wrapped around her off. She examined the wounds on her body then felt warm liquid run down her neck. In a split second, Y/N could hear a fist banging on the door and San's voice.

"Y/N?!? ARE YOU OK?!? WHY CAN I SMELL YOUR BLOOD-"

"Hey! It's ok! I just took my bandages off, and my stitches started to bleed a little bit. I'm fine!"

"Can I see them?" San asked.

"Hold on! I don't have any clothes on at the moment!"

When San heard those words leave Y/N's mouth, his heart rate involuntarily increased. He shook off the images running through his mind when Y/N opened the bathroom door. San walked in and shut the door behind him so the smell of her blood doesn't radiate through the house. San hurried into the bathroom so he couldn't see what Y/N was wearing. When he turned around he saw Y/N only wearing her undergarments. Without realizing, San was staring at the girl in front of him admiring her figure.

"I'm sorry about what I'm wearing. It was the only thing I could wear for you to be able to see them clearly," Y/N said with a blush.

"It's ok! I was just surprised you let me see you like this," San said.

"For some reason, my heart trusts you. Even though my head doesn't because of what happened. But I trust my heart more than my mind. The only reason why I did what I did was because my head got the best of me," Y/N confessed.

A genuine smile crept up to San's face, and his eyes turned yellow.

"Do they hurt?" San asked referring to the stitches.

"It just feels like a bruised sort of pain, but it's nothing too bad," Y/N said looking at her sliced wrists.

Blood began to run down her right wrist after she touched it.

"Ouch! That hurt a bit!" Y/N said looking at her bleeding wrist laughing.

Y/N could hear small grunts and growls coming from San and that's when she remembered he's a vampire. "Well shit. How could I possibly forget that he drinks blood?" Y/N thought to herself, giving a herself a mental facepalm as well. She headed towards the sink to wash it off, but San stopped her.

"Please don't wash it off yet," he grunted.

"Why? You can barely contain yourself at the moment."

"It smells really good and I want it to last longer," San said as he stared at the burgundy liquid.

"You want some of it, don't you?" Y/N sighed.

"Of course I do, but I couldn't do that to you."

"I appreciate that, but what would happen if I let you?"

San glanced up at Y/N's face, slightly taken aback with what she just said.

"Are you trying to hint something, Y/N?"

"I mean, it's not like you're going to bite me. It came out naturally! Besides, you look the same way as you did when you did you know what. That can only lead me to believe you haven't had any in quite awhile."

"How are you so damn smart?"

"You might be good at lying San, but you can't hide everything," Y/N said with a giggle.

"I swear to god, you're too cute. But would you actually let me have some?" San looked at Y/N seriously.

"I told you, I trust my heart more than my head."

Y/N raised her wrist once she saw the blood was about to drop onto the tile again.

"There is no way in hell I'm about to stain the tile AGAIN. So, the only way to clean it is to wash it off or you have it," Y/N said looking at her bloody wrist then to the blood thirsty vampire in front of her. "No biting, ok?"

San looked at Y/N with excitement.

"I bet you taste better than you smell!"

Y/N laughed at his statement and headed over to the sink where she could sit and make sure none of her blood can stain the dAMN TILE-

Once she was situated, Y/N signaled San to get closer to her and he followed her commands. He was now standing between her thighs looking at her eyes with his golden ones.

"Ok, your eyes keep changing color, and I have no idea what it means. Could you explain the colors to me before you start?" Y/N questioned.

"Well, my eyes should be gold at the moment which means I'm seriously holding back from getting your blood. Typically when I get a serious blood lust they turn gold. Red is anger, blue is sadness, grey is regret, purple is sexual lust, green is ecstasy, and orange is possessiveness or the feeling of wanting to protect something," San explained.

"I don't think I'll remember all of that, but I'll try my best!"

The two people laughed until Y/N realized her hand was starting to pool with blood.

"Bruh, why the hell am I bleeding so much? You stitches are seriously doing a shitty job."

Y/N raised the hand filled with blood and moved it in front of San. San looked at Y/N one last time searching for a final look of assurance, and Y/N responded with a nod.

San began by drinking what was in Y/N's hand. Her hand became a cup to encapsulate it all. The first taste for San sent him into space. The fact that he hasn't fed in awhile adds to the pleasure, but her taste was the best he's ever had. As he finished what was in her hand, he looked up at her. Y/N could see his fangs and her blood all over his chin. His eyes were a vibrant gold.

"Looks like I was right. You're the best I've ever had."

"Yeah ok," Y/N said.

"Y/N if you were to leave in this state you would be dead by now. Or you would be kidnapped and used as a living blood bag. You're blood is unique. It is so much sweeter than what most humans have."

"Well lucky for you, San, my hand, neck, and wrist is covered in it. Now you can't complain from withdraws."

"I'm not complaining about it either!" San exclaimed.

"Remember San, I need to take a shower. We have classes tomorrow."

San growled.

"Can't we just skip tomorrow?" San whined.

"And do what?"

"Let you heal, Ateez aren't the only vampires at school, and I sure as hell ain't letting anyone else have you if you bleed."

San's eyes flashed orange in a sign of possessiveness.

"Fine, I'll skip. You are acting like a over protective human boyfriend," Y/N chuckled.

"Well the fact that I am drinking your blood connects me to you. I can sense your change in emotions now. The guys can because of what we are, but me doing that makes me the closest out of all of them."

San returned to cleaning you up, and now he moved onto her neck.

She tilted her head to give him more access. He leaned towards her and could see her vein protrude slightly.

"Tell me if this hurts ok? I'm going to go over the stitches."

Y/N nodded her head and he began to lick the blood running down her throat. She couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

"San," she whispered.

San stopped what he was doing and looked at the girl in front of him. His eyes changed to a beautiful shade of purple.

"What are you doing to me, Y/N?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know how I am. I'm really cold to people. But when you came along both me and the guys couldn't help but feel attracted to you. And now here I am. Drinking the best blood I've ever had, from the girl I'm interested in."

Y/N jumped off of the counter and looked in the mirror to see no blood left.

"Damn could you enjoy it any more?" Y/N said with sarcasm.

"I definitely could, babe."

Y/N blushed at the nickname. She's never been called that before. She could easily get used to it though.

"I need to take a shower now, San."

"Can I take it with you?"

"W-What?"

"You heard me. I want to take a shower with you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. This whole blood drinking thing just makes me want to be around you 24/7."

"Ok."

"Wait really?"

"Yeah sure. But...if this leads to you wanting to get closer to me just to use me for sex I will not hesitate to beat the living shit out of you."

"Oh believe me, if I wanted to play you you'd be out of my house right now."

The two chuckled and Y/N walked to turn the shower on. Once it was warm enough for her liking, she looked back at San.

"Is this too hot, San?"

San walked over to feel the water.

"Nope. It's almost as perfect as you."

"I did not expect you to be such a flirt."

"People aren't always who they seem they are Y/N."

"Yeah, I'm quite aware of that."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I mean, it's not like I'm going to be able to hide it from you forever, so I might as well get it over with."

San looked at her with a hint of worry in his eyes.

"It's my birth parents."

San looked at Y/N with interest.

"How about I tell you once we're in the shower, ok?"

San agreed and Y/N took her undergarments off. San couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was absolutely stunning to him.

"Hey! I can't be the only person naked! That's not fair!"

In the blink of an eye, San was undressed and standing in front of Y/N. He took her hand and pulled her into the shower with him. San watched as the water droplets ran down her delicate body. The way her long hair covered her exposed breasts.

"Ok, we're in the shower. Continue please," San said impatiently.

"Oh right. THEM." Y/N said with disgust in her voice. "I was not planed to be here. I'm only alive because my birth parents were retarded enough to not use protection. So when I was born, they decided they weren't ready to raise a child so they gave me to my aunt. I was a much different person back then than I am now. I used to be so caring of others and so welcoming. Now I've become more broken off and closed off. One day, they decided to show up to my house in America. They had the audacity to ask me to go back to them. They even thought that I would be willing to go with them. Ever since then, I have hated people. The fact that my best friend was murdered made it worse," San looked at Y/N with his grey eyes, "I know, vampires depend on blood to stay alive, but I was just so upset that it had to be her. I was pissed at myself for not stopping you guys. But as I thought about it, I realized neither of us would of made it out alive if I was to try and stop you. I lost trust in all people after that. I haven't made any friends for I live with the fear that they will leave me just as she did. I was still new here when she died so I had to take a lot of time to get used to my surroundings here. So here I am, a girl who lives alone and in a country that she still isn't that familiar to her yet."

Y/N was crying at this point from remembering the trauma she suffered. Without a second thought, San pinned Y/N against the shower wall and lifting her chin up with his index finger. Without a second thought he leaned in and kissed her. It was a kiss that expressed how bad he felt for doing what he did to her best friend. Y/N kissed back, enjoying the sensation of his lips against hers.

They both parted from the kiss to regain their breath when San spoke...

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. If I knew my actions would lead to me hurting you like this, I would have never done that. I was just so desperate that if I didn't feed, I would go on a murder spree. But now I promise to never hurt you like that. I promise to protect you from everything you fear the most. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I love you so much. I never want to let you go.

𝕿𝖆𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @soyeonrai 

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 4

Hiya @pocketramblr

.

While the other ghosts watched poor Izuku more and more, Yoichi gathered a pile of pillows and beanbags, and a small container of popcorn, then dropped unceremoniously onto the pile, ready to watch a bunch of teens beat the tar out of each other. En noticed this, glanced at him, and did a double-take.

"Since when do you have popcorn? How do you have popcorn? Where did you get it? Have you been holding out on me? Can I have some? I'll fight you!"

"Uh... it isn't real," said Yoichi.

"Neither are we!"

"No, I mean, you can't taste it. Or smell it. It's just a construct. For the aesthetic." Something none of them really bothered with, lately, but Yoichi wanted to put the effort in for Izuku. Even if Izuku probably would never be aware of it.

"But... popcorn..."

"Shhh! It's starting!"

.

The first round was Kouda and Satou vs Yaoyorzu and Kirishima.

If he had to guess, he'd say Yaoyorozu and Kirishima would win. Yaoyorozu's quirk was perfect for setting up quick and simple barriers and traps, and Kirishima's was good for defense as well.

That wasn't to say Kouda and Satou couldn't win as well... Satou had what seemed to be a fairly powerful strength enhancer, perfect for ripping through hastily constructed defenses, and Izuku didn't know if Kirishima would be able to completely counter him.

Izuku also wasn't entirely sure what Kouda's quirk was. His first guess would have been a physical mutation, given his appearance, but thinking back, it didn't seem like he'd used anything like that during the quirk assessment, so those features were most likely vestigial, like Izuku's hair color, which suggested a less physical quirk. It had to be something that could be applied in combat against robots, though. Izuku was the only one who'd passed without villain points.

So, it could go either way.

He could continue to analyze, but his attention was drawn back to the team he'd be facing. Hagakure and Monoma.

A blush rose up in his cheeks. It had to be Hagakure. He still hadn't apologized for running into her during the entrance exam. Hand to hand against her was going to be tough- he could only hope the support department had given her an invisible costume, and she wasn't... well... uncostumed. Again.

But, beyond that, not being able to see her would be a problem. She could get to the fake bomb without him even noticing.

Monoma would be a challenge, too. Given the number of pocket watches on his costume, Izuku suspected he had a time limit for how long he could copy a quirk. But he had no idea how long that could be, and it could be misdirection, too. Izuku certainly wouldn't want to telegraph a weakness like that if he had that kind of quirk.

Another option could be that he could only hold one quirk copy at a time. That'd be trickier for Izuku to deal with. Either way, he doubted Monoma could permanently hold an unlimited number of quirk copies. Monoma's personality was all wrong for that, and he didn't have Iida's engines anymore- unless he could choose to dump quirks? But why would he do that? Izuku's (formerly) quirkless sensibilities rebelled against the very thought.

He was overthinking this. He'd have to assume that Monoma could come at him with any quirk in the class. So. What would be the most inconvenient? All Might's, except Izuku had All Might's, and Monoma wasn't able to use it.

(Oh, and that could be a problem, couldn't it? Could Monoma be able to tell All Might didn't have a quirk anymore?)

Well, judging from what he was seeing right now, Izuku really didn't want him to take Yaoyorozu's quirk. It was sort of terrifying.

Other scary ones would be Todoroki (he'd launched that ball with a glacier) and Tokoyami (a sentient quirk! So cool!) but he thought Monoma would avoid Shouji and Asui (full body mutations). Other than that... Monoma would probably wait and see who did the best, or which quirk would work best with Hagakure's.

He'd have to take Hagakure's quirk into account, too. What if they both came at him invisibly (and naked)? Izuku would die...

Each battle lasted for up to fifteen minutes, not counting the ten minutes the villain team had to set up. That's how long Izuku had to defend the fake bomb. As the defender, Izuku had another handicap. He only had to fail once to fail entirely...

No. Stop that. This was a school exercise, and All Might wasn't going to expell him. Losing would suck, but he'd be together with half the class on that front. The important thing was learning from the experience. And not getting too hurt.

Right. He returned his gaze to the screen as the match started.

.

"We're a sentient quirk, too," said Banjo. "Aren't we cool?"

"He doesn't know we're sentient, though," said Yoichi. "Also, he spent like two months straight gushing about how cool One for All was when we were with Eighth. Didn't you get enough?"

Banjo sulked. "It isn't the same."

"Speaking of Monoma," said En, "why didn't you slap his little grabby hands away from One for All yesterday?"

"Because a late bloomer is one thing, but someone confirmed not to have a quirk suddenly having bone-breaking super strength? Yeah. No. Yagi might have beaten my brother, but that doesn't mean everyone who worked for him is gone. Eight never knew about Garaki at all."

"Way to bring down the mood, En," said Banjo, elbowing the younger ghost.

"The mood was already brought down by the fake popcorn."

.

Izuku wrote furiously in his notebook, trying to record every detail of the match. He pulled one of his gloves off with his teeth to get a better grip on his pencil. He'd need to practice writing with gloves on. He was missing important notes. Speaking of which...

"Can we get copies of these recordings?"

"You should be able to access them through your Ultra Account on the school website!"

Izuku nodded and continued writing. As expected, Kirishima and Satou had gotten into a one on one fight down the hallway from the bomb room. Unexpectedly, however, they had seemed rather hesitant to hit each other. At least, until Satou dumped a packet of white powder (sugar according to All Might) into his mouth and started smacking at Kirishima indiscriminately. Kouda, meanwhile, had sent a small army of mice (animal control! Very cool) at Yaoyorozu, who had responded with mousetraps.

The clock ran out, to the villains' victory.

.

"It was surprisingly hard to hit someone," admitted Kirishima in the debrief.

"We've been socialized to avoid violence," said All Might, nodding. "Overcoming that hesitation is part of our training. As is when not to use force."

.

Next up were Kaminari and Sero vs Aoyama and Jirou.

Kaminari entered the building first, quickly engaging Aoyama, who had been directed towards Kaminari by Jirou. That fight got loud quickly. Sero, meanwhile, scaled the outside of the building with his tape.

Kaminari ultimately defeated himself with his own quirk (that was a pretty severe drawback- maybe Kaminari should consider other fighting styles?), which allowed Jirou to hear Sero climbing up the wall. But Aoyama couldn't get back fast enough to prevent Jirou from being captured by Sero.

.

"I think Kaminari was the MVP," said Izuku. "He did hurt himself, which was bad, but his sacrifice allowed his teammate to safely reach the objective. If he hadn't, um, shorted out...? It would have been better, of course, but..."

Yaoyorozu shook her head. "Sero managed to capture one of the villains and safely reach the bomb. Additionally, he's the one who came up with the plan of attack."

"Ah," said Izuku, "that's- that's true..."

"Regardless, it is a plan that only bore fruit due to teamwork! Excellent work! Jirou, Aoyama, your division of labor was also a good plan, but don't forget the enemies you don't see! Time for our next match!"

.

This time, Asui and Tokoyami were defending against Todoroki and Uraraka.

"Good luck," Izuku said, waving slightly to Uraraka.

"Thanks!" She gave him two thumbs up as she trailed slightly behind Todoroki. "So," she said, as they walked out through the door, "how are we doing-?"

The door closed. Izuku winced. Surely, they had strategized beforehand...

.

"Young Todoroki," said All Might, somewhat sternly, "you... that was certainly an impressive display, but even when dealing with real villains, a hero has to be conscious of the damage they may do. A large number of villains are only minor criminals, or even otherwise ordinary citizens having a bad day."

"That's not what the media says," mumbled Todoroki, though he looked pale as medi-bots carried Asui from the scene.

"The media is full of sensationalists. And even if it weren't, Asui isn't a real villain. There is a difference," he said, very gently, "between going beyond and going too far."

All Might paused. Todoroki hunched his shoulders. There was something familiar about his posture, something that made Izuku's stomach knot.

All Might continued. "It was a good strategy. Against another team, or against real villains, it would have been a more than appropriate strategy. In fact, it was even an appropriate strategy in this case, since you didn't know Asui had trouble with cold temperatures. But when you encountered her in the hall and noticed how poorly she was doing, you should have hit the emergency stop button."

Instead of laying down mode ice when Asui struggled to get free, which was what actually happened.

"Why didn't you stop the match?" He didn't sound accusatory. Just flat and resigned.

All Might made a face and gestured to the screens on the wall. About half of them showed static and the rest blurry shades of white and gray. Like the rest of the building, they had been iced over.

Todoroki sighed. "How much trouble am I in?"

"You aren't," replied All Might. "In trouble, that is. As your teacher, this is entirely my responsibility. I shouldn't have set you against Asui or should have gone over safety concerns more clearly..." All Might paused, his face that of someone who knew they weren't getting their point across but didn't quite know what the problem was. "Injuries are inevitable in heroics and hero training, but you don't want to maim your classmates. Or minor villains, really, if you can help it. So... consider this a learning moment."

"But it was just ice," said Kaminari.

"Cold kills people frequently," said All Might. "People lose fingers and toes to frostbite regularly. Again, for anyone but Asui, this level of ice for such a short time period wouldn't have caused lasting damage, but it is something to be mindful of. Does... that make sense, young Todoroki?"

"Yes," said Todoroki, head bowed.

"All right. Young Uraraka, thank you for hitting the emergency stop button. It showed good thinking and good awareness. Young Tokoyami, your decision to hide the bomb in the basement was a good one, complimentary to your quirk."

Izuku glanced over at Monoma. He had a sinking suspicion he knew what quirk he would copy.

.

After moving to a new building, Iida and Ashido managed to pull a win as heroes from Ojiro and Shouji by melting a hole in the ceiling above the bomb and then jumping through to tag it after Iida confirmed its location with a scouting run. The general consensus of the class was that it was surprisingly clever and out of the box, but that it probably wouldn't have been feasible in real life. Ashido had then sheepishly admitted that she'd come up with the idea after hearing Izuku mumble about it.

This, of course, made Izuku blush. Strawberry would probably bee his nickname from now on.

Better than Deku.

It was his turn to go set up, now.

He was unlikely to be able to beat Hagakure and Monoma at the same time, even if Monoma didn't copy any quirks at all. Assuming they didn't split up, a ridiculous course of action, he'd have to find a way to protect the bomb other than physically defending it.

This was the problem that had been plaguing him all afternoon.

He had to hide it. Then, he either had to hide himself or use his location to steer them away from where the bomb really was. His capture would also lose him the match, so he had to be careful.

He carried the bomb to the top floor. Uraraka's quirk could get them up there, but Izuku didn't think Monoma could handle the nausea. And if he did have a time limit, he wouldn't want to be airborne when it ran out. Sero had demonstrated his quirk could get him up the side of the building, but that had clearly also required a lot of skill in climbing, not just the quirk itself.

Iida's quirk would get Monoma to the top of the building fast, but since he'd have to go room by room... Either way, the top floor would slow them down the most, buy Izuku the most time.

The room he picked was full of prop boxes. Izuku had to rearrange them to completely hide the bomb, and there was a chance Monoma and Hagakure would remember what it looked like before, from the camera feeds, but he hoped they'd overlook it.

He still had time. Next...

The second floor had office equipment in it. Clearly old junk the school didn't mind loosing. Izuku pulled as much of it out into the hallway as he could, his experience from the beach helping him maneuver quickly. He dumped a lot of it into the stairwell. The rest he left in the hallways.

How much time did he have?

Not long.

He ran up the stairs, to the fourth floor, where Ashido had melted a hole in the floor. Here, he had multiple egress points. It would be harder for them to corner him. Also...

He randomly closed half the doors on the floor. He could pretend to be guarding one of them. Delay them. How much longer?

No time at all.

Right on schedule, the air went dry and cold. Izuku, having planned for this, leapt for one of the door frames and held on. A thin layer of ice, not as thick as the one on the floor, crusted over his gloved fingers.

Izuku counted to five, then let his hands slip out of his gloves and dropped to the floor. Then he reached up and tugged his now empty gloves out of the ice.

He inspected the ice momentarily, and tested his ability to move on it. It wasn't as even or as thick as it had been when Todoroki used it, and the surface was a difficult and unpredictable mixture of smooth and rough... but it would become slicker as it melted.

Good. Izuku had predicted this. It made his closed doors and stacked boxes much more formidable obstacles. The ice wouldn't allow doors to open easily, and the boxes would also be reinforced and hard to move.

Izuku was glad for the conversation All Might had with Todoroki. Although it probably hadn't been his intention, the way he had phrased his commentary on Todoroki's freezing strategy had made it seem like an automatic win, given that it wasn't used against someone who'd be seriously injured by it.

Izuku hadn't been sure they'd do it, since it would handicap Hagakure so much. She couldn't walk around on ice barefoot. Unless she had a secondary mutation that made her skin tougher, or less sensitive to temperature- that would be so cool! No, focus, focus.

Monoma wouldn't have Iida's quirk, either with this strategy. Even if was unfamiliar with speed quirks, he would know that high speeds and ice didn't mix... Unless you were a speed skater, Izuku supposed. But Monoma didn't have ice skates- Unless, unless he took Yaoyorozu's quirk and made ice skates. But that would be horribly impractical with this uneven ice, and probably wouldn't work with Iida's quirk at all. So.

He'd probably have Yaoyorozu's quirk anyway. And after that, for this exercise, Jirou's would be the most valuable. With Jirou's quirk, Monoma would be able to locate Izuku quickly.

Another reason to separate himself from the bomb.

They were coming.

He hid himself out of immediate sight, in the room with the hole, on the off chance that Monoma couldn't hold that many quirks.

There was a clatter from the stairwell.

They were coming.

Muffled voices. A louder thump.

"Maybe if you hadn't frozen everything-"

A sort of fwoosh brought an oddly warm breeze and Izuku hissed. Todoroki's quirk must be more than ice. Given his overall appearance... Fire? Izuku was screwed.

Well. Hopefully his precautions would at least get him a good grade.

There were more scrapes and clatters as Hagakure and Monoma forced their way through the stairwell. Then, relative silence.

They were coming.

"I thought you said he was on this floor," said Hagakure, plaintively.

"He must have gotten free," said Monoma.

"Can't you listen for him again?"

There was a pause. Monoma must have responded nonverbally.

"We'll just have to be careful checking everything out," said Hagakure. "The bomb must be on this floor, after all."

Okay. Okay, great, this was good news for Izuku. He eyed the hole in the floor. Part of him really didn't want to jump through. His brain was supplying him with all the things that could go wrong with such a jump. Especially with the layer of ice. Ugh, he should have dragged one of the office desks up underneath it.

Too late now.

Minding his visibility, Izuku crept over to the side of the hole and lowered himself until he was hanging by his finger tips.

It was still a long fall. Monoma and Hagakure's footsteps were growing closer.

He let go.

He tried to hit the ground properly, but his roll turned into a slide, and he hit a wall at a higher speed than he would have liked. Reflexively he grabbed at his left arm. Ow.

He knew this was going to happen.

"He's on the third floor!"

"What?"

"He jumped through Ashido's hole!"

Izuku forced himself to his feet and sprinted towards the stairs. The second floor had more hiding places than the third. At the last minute, something twinged in the back of his mind, and he tried to stop. Tried. The ice made this difficult.

His legs went out from underneath him, and he went skidding down the hallway on his back, taking a mercifully, mercifully, clothed Hagakure out at the ankles. They slid together into the bottom of the stairs descending from the fourth floor, further battering Izuku's poor arm.

He dodged Hagakure's capture tape and briefly considered pulling out his own, but there was Monoma, cautiously coming down the icy stairs.

Icy stairs.

It seemed neither Izuku nor Monoma had fully considered the obstacles that would result from coating a building like this in ice. Todoroki's ability to maneuver easily on this terrain was, in retrospect, a keystone of the 'freeze everything' strategy, not incidental.

He needed to get away.

He pushed Hagakure off of himself (and noted that she was just as muscular as he was) and slid on his knees to the banister. He pulled himself up and slid down the rail, using the ice to his benefit. Using his uninjured arm, he gripped the end of the banister connected to the wall to slingshot himself down the second floor hallway.

... and almost right into a desk he'd half forgotten he'd put there. He dodged it and recovered quickly before scrambling over the other obstacles in the hallway. He came to a scraping halt and tucked himself into the leg well of one of the desks. A convenient bar meant he could keep his feet off the ground and out of sight as well.

Just like hiding from bullies. Only less dangerous and more fun.

How much time was left?

It had taken them about five minutes to get past the desks on the stairs, then maybe two or three to get to the fourth floor? They hadn't been moving quickly, probably because of the ice. Then, they'd been on the fourth floor for another couple of minutes before Izuku dropped to the third, even if it had felt longer to Izuku. The tussle on the third had taken a minute, tops, so he had... Four minutes left? Less, now.

He could win this. He could run out the clock. Maybe it wasn't the most heroic way to win, but he was supposed to be playing the villain, and he hoped Mr. Yagi would be proud of him anyway.

"Show yourself!" called Monoma. "Or I'll freeze you out."

Could he do that? Maybe he had Jirou's quirk at first, but switched to Todoroki's later, and lost access to Jirou's? If only he knew more about how Monoma's quirk worked... It could be a bluff, too. Even if it wasn't, why would he reveal himself? This late in the game, even if he was frozen in place, he could still win.

And winning... it wasn't something he got to do very often.

A buzz signaled the end of the match. "Villains win! Or, rather villain wins? Good job everyone! Come on out for the final debrief."

.

"MVP, MVP, MVP," chanted Yoichi, Banjo, and En, arms slung around each others' shoulders.

"Our boy is MVP!" cried Banjo.

"You know what this means, of course," said Hikage during a pause in the noise. The other ghosts looked at him. "It means, my quirk is the most valuable. The greatest power in the universe is the power of anxiety."

"Take that back!" said Yoichu, throwing an imaginary kazoo at Hikage. "The most powerful thing in the universe is the power of friendship. Everyone knows that!"

"What about those two?" asked Hikage, pointing at Second and Third.

"Unfortunately, the power of spite is also great," said Yoichi. "Even so, they will soon find themselves defeated."

Nana rubbed her temples. "If I hadn't given up on sanity within ten minutes of waking up in here, this would be what did me in."

.

After an intense practical, the next stop was the nurse's office. There, the class found Asui already mostly recovered, and Izuku found out that he had, in fact broken his arm.

"Are you sure it isn't just a sprain? It is broken?"

"A fracture, and, yes, quite sure. But a sprain can actually be worse than a break- many true sprains never quite heal correctly... either way, with my quirk you don't have to worry about it." She pressed her lips to Izuku's forehead. He felt his energy ebb to a new low. "You should talk to Mr. Aizawa about falling techniques. Your body type is more like his than your other mentor's."

"I- I will," promised Izuku.

"Good. You can go get changed, now."

"Thanks," said Izuku, not quite wobbling out of the room.

"Midoriya!"

He almost jumped out of his skin. "A-ah! Uraraka!"

"Sorry to startle you!"

"No, no, it's fine. What is it?"

"Oh, well, Iida and I were wondering if you'd like to come out with use to a café after school? It's nearby and apparently it has discounts for UA students?"

"Indeed! My older brother talked about it frequently when he was a student here!"

"W-well," said Izuku. He looked at All Might, who was awkwardly supervising and directing other students in the hallway to the locker rooms. All Might caught his eye and nodded. "Sure! That sounds like fun!"

.

This would be the last time Shouta would have to nap after school for a while. From tomorrow on, he'd be alternating quirk counseling with Midoriya with hero work. Why did he agree to do this again?

Kan opened the door to the break room. With him came the acrid smell of smoke and hot dust. "Which companies did the first year costumes this year?" he asked, voice dangerously soft enough to impress Aizawa.

"Why?" asked Hizashi.

"Because I want to... talk to whoever thought it was a good idea to give a fifteen-year-old with no training in demolition not one, but two weapons that could level buildings at full charge. I just want to talk."

Judging by the expression on Kan's face, Shouta seriously doubted that.

Kan took a deep breath. "What about your hellions?"

"Don't know. Yagi had them today."

"And you didn't watch?"

"I was in court."

"What's wrong with Yagi, anyway?"

Shouta, Hizashi, and Kan all turned to where Yagi was splayed in a chair. If the scene were a painting, it could easily be titled 'depression.'

"I'm a failure as a teacher and a hero," he moaned.

"Huh?" said Hizashi. "Why?"

"Young Asui nearly became hypothermic, and young Midoriya fractured his arm."

There was a beat of silence as the others waited for him to go on.

"What?" Kan asked. "Is that it?"

[glowinggator]

Friendly Competition

Request:  Now I can’t get the image of Mikey and Leo prancing around the lair to try to impress Y/N and Raph and Donnie just exchanging glances like wth in response to this X,D Wait, are you open to requests? Because then I’d totally request if you could do the idea of Leo and Mikey trying to impress Y/N in outdoing each other…

Characters: Leonardo (Pining)/Reader/Michelangelo (Pining)

Content Warnings: Swearing, really brief reference to The Walking Dead (Season 4). 

Word Count: 1946 

“Carl, Carl! Oh my god, dude,” Mikey squeals, clinging tightly to Raph’s side. Any other day, you might have laughed a little at his reaction - once a little brother, always a little brother - but you’re not in much better standing this time. The boy on TV backs slowly away from the zombies a little overconfidently for your liking, and you can’t suppress the rush of anxiety that courses through you. He’s a TV character, sure, but you’ve watched him grow up! He can’t die now, right? 

And when the third walker appears, grabbing onto the young boy and pulling him down, you could have sworn the whole lair screamed. The room is filled with the “no’s” and various swears of your friends as the kid fights for his life, and you press yourself further into the couch to try and put some distance between you and the TV. You flinch at the sound of gunshots as he pushes the walkers away, barely managing to stay alive, when suddenly the room is pierced with a noise that’s somehow even more jarring and terrifying. 

Battle alarm. Of course. Some yokai...alien… whatever it is... had to terrorize New York City now, of all times? 

"Couldn't this have been an email or something? Really, the nerve of some people. Interrupting The Walking Dead now, of all times," You groan jokingly, pausing the show for the boys as they rise to their feet. 

“If you unpause it while we’re gone, I will take you as a prisoner of war and treat the Geneva Convention as a to-do-list,” Donatello snarks. 

You stick your tongue out at him, but you can’t help but giggle. “Noted, D. Hurry back guys, stay safe!” 

“We will!” Raphael calls, waving to you with a smile before stopping at the exit of the lair, waiting for his brothers to catch up. Donatello walks right past him, balancing his tech bō over the expanse of his shoulders. You smile and wave back at Raph, but soon after, you’re met with the excited cheers of Mikey. He takes a running start at one of the nearby guard rails, grinning as he lines himself up at an angle. He jumps, grabbing the bar and spinning himself around it with ease to face you. In the brief second where your eyes lock, he shoots you a wink and a grin, before spinning himself back around and walking off. I mean, you know he’s a ninja and all, but has he always been that smooth with his parkour? Or like, that smooth in general? 

He waves quickly at you with a smile and walks straight past Raph and into the tunnels of the sewer system. “Later, angel!” He chirps. 

Leo boos before taking a running start of his own. Not to be outdone, he avoids the bar completely, instead choosing to flip over it entirely. He clears the bar with ease, landing on one leg and sweeping the other under him to perform a small rotation towards the ground. As he regains his balance, he pushes himself up with one hand and removes his feet from the ground to do another rotation before planting them once more and performing an angled flip. His movements are quick and fluid, as though such acrobatic feats were innate to his nature. As he lands he grins and shoots you a pair of fingerguns - which you laugh at softly - before backing out of the lair. “Later, sweetheart,” he coos, and turns around to walk out properly. You chuckle again once you hear Mikey’s voice echo from the sewers. 

“Show-off.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You swish the warm drink around in your mug and take a sip. You practically purr at the heat as it hits your tongue: it’s been far too cold for your liking lately. Or, maybe you’re spending too much time in the sewers. Maybe you should invest in some space heaters, if you’re gonna be down here all the time. You twiddle a pencil between your fingers as you fill out the tattered crossword in a vain attempt to wake your brain up a little. Who was Aphrodite’s son again? Did she even have a son? You suppose you’ll get back to that one. 

Raphael stumbles into the kitchen with a groan, fumbling around for a fresh mug. “Good mornin’, Y/N.” 

“Good morning, Raph,” you reply. 

He finally manages to find a mug, pouring some coffee and creamer and pulling up a chair next to you. He leans his head in his hands, clearly not awake yet. You chuckle. “Sleepy?”

He hums affirmatively and takes a sip of his coffee. You pat his shell gently and return to your crossword. You’ve never felt more like an adult, you think sarcastically. It’s like some scene out of a Lifetime movie. 

Out of nowhere, there comes a loud thump from the common area, followed by the quiet swears of Leo. You damn-near jump out of your seat at the sudden noise, barely managing to keep your drink in your mug. It sloshes around the rim, and you quickly put your hand up to steady it. Raph, meanwhile, stays glued to his seat, seemingly unbothered by the loud noise. “Good morning,” he repeats. You snort. “Good morning, indeed,” you reply. 

After a moment of thought, you set down your cup and rise to your feet. You might as well check out the noise and make sure everything is okay. You pat Raph’s head one last time before walking out into the living room, only to find Mikey and Leo whispering loudly at one another. Their voices are so hushed that it’s difficult to decipher what exactly they’re saying, although you can certainly hear them. But judging by the force behind the indecipherable words - and the overexaggerated hand motions - it clearly isn’t a friendly discussion. You clear your throat and wave gently at them, which catches their attention. 

“Everything okay?” You venture. 

“Yeah-” says Mikey. 

“Yeah- It’s- Everything’s all good,” Leo stumbles, only to be cut off by his brother.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He elbows Leo harshly, emphasizing some point to his brother that you’re clearly missing. 

“Hunky-dorey.” 

“Peachy-keen”

“Perfect.” 

The two keep stuttering and stammering, occasionally elbowing the other without warning. You raise an eyebrow at the strange behavior, and decide to intervene. “Okay,” you drawl, “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear… whatever that was. For your guys’ sake.” You joke lightly, attempting to lighten the mood a little and divert the attention away from that… trainwreck of an interaction. And the boys seem all-too-happy for the excuse, as Leo quickly jumps in with a quick question. 

“Hey, now that you’re here, could you do us a huge favor? We’re having a little…” he pauses, “brotherly competition, and we need someone unbiased to judge.” 

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You chirp, “What kind of competition is it?” 

“It’s-” 

“It’s a parkour competition!” Mikey interjects. 

The tension between the two turtles is thick, and you certainly don’t want to be the one to address it. Perhaps if you ignore it, it’ll go away on its own? Maybe they both woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, or maybe this competition has high stakes? You sigh internally: it’s too early to be thinking this hard. “Sweet! I’m ready to be impressed,” you jest. “Who’s going first?” 

“Me!” 

“I will!” 

They reply in unison, cutting each other off for the umpteenth time today. You chuckle and roll your eyes, which catches their attention. You don’t miss the way their eyes light up… or the way Mikey begins to smirk. He looks almost devious, although you suppose such a mischievous look isn’t an uncommon sight with him. 

“Leo,” he starts, “How about you go first?” 

He takes the bait with a grin, clearly unaware of whatever plan Michelangelo’s formed. “Why certainly!” He rolls his wrist around in an overexaggerated motion, beaming with absolute confidence. “As the eldest brother in the room, I’d be happy to show you how it’s done.” 

And with that, he’s off. His movements are as smooth as silk as he runs towards the nearest crate, grabbing it at an angle to flip himself over once. He lands on his feet with a loud “thump” against the concrete, but he doesn’t waste a moment as he runs towards the nearest wall. He runs up its length the moment he’s in range, this time using his body weight to spin himself during his flip. He’s fluid in his movements, years of practice and training shining through in this brief moment. This time he lands straight up on both feet, although he doesn’t take any reprieve. Instead, he kicks himself up and over, sweeping the leg to enter a combative stance. A final flourish in his display, you assume. And just like that, it’s over. The show only lasted a matter of seconds, but it’s still enough to leave you starry-eyed and in awe. 

“That was fucking badass, Leo!” You clap. 

“Really?” He smiles, “Uh, I mean, yeah! Thanks!” He fumbles with his hands for a moment before finding a spot for them. He rests them behind his head, shifting side to side on his feet. God, that’s so fucking cute. 

You beam: You can’t wait to see what Mikey does! “Think you can top that, Mikey?” 

He returns your excitement wholeheartedly, shining back with something that seems like… so much more than his typical positivity. In most situations, he radiates so much positivity that one could liken it to a lighthouse for the hopeful. But his attitude seems different from that usual beacon of light. He’s excited, positive, and confident, but that’s not what’s throwing you off. Sure, they’re competitive, but what’s the motivator this time? Ah, you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. You’re brought out of your thoughts by his cheers. “Easy!” 

And god, Mikey’s movements are so graceful that he makes Leo’s look inexperienced, like a giraffe crossing a tightrope. He moves like a swan through water, scaling walls effortlessly and flying through the air like it’s his second home. He starts his routine off strong, leaping at the first waist-high object he could lay his eyes on, performing an impromptu 720 rotation and landing on the concrete protrusion hands-first. He leaps off it as quickly as he landed, using his momentum to propel himself onto a nearby set of steel bars. He throws himself from one to the other with ease, spinning and adding his own flair to each and every movement. You can’t seem to take your eyes off of him while he leaps his way to victory. He uses any ledge possible to propel himself higher and higher, and his movements are so light and quick that they hardly make a sound. And before you know it, he’s standing at the topmost bit of the lair. He plops himself down, dangling his legs off of the precipice and swinging them back and forth. From this far away, you can barely see the way his grin stretches across his face, but you know it’s there. He raises one hand to wave at you and Leo, and the way he wiggles his fingers signals that he knows he’s won. And to be fair, he has. You giggle at the way Leo mutters “show-off” under his breath - where have you heard that one before? - before signaling for Mikey that he’s won and to head on down. And god, the descent is just as impressive. He laughs as he kicks and spins his way down, and despite the competition being over, he continues to shine and demonstrate his skills flawlessly. 

“One and one, baby!”

[garbage-eater144]

THE WARFSTACE AUTOMATED INTERVIEW CAPTIONS

i was chattin in the discord and some people said it was tough to understand some bits, obviouslt this is made by a fan (me) so it might have a couple errors here and there but ive checked through it quite a few times and it seems about as right as i can get it.

so !!SPOILERS AHEAD!! also @markiplier feel free to correct me if you see this thank u <3 The warfstache automated interview

Starting video captions

[Wilford] Well, that’s terrifying… one moment!

{mechanical whirring}

[Wilford] (frightened sound) marginally better… er worse… better? Worse. It’s much worse.

{mechanical whirring}

[Wilford] Ah! there we are. Welcome, pretend I remembered your name here, this is a pre-recorded message anyway, I would NOT want to be in the same building as that thing I tell you me. Anyway, thank you whoever you are for agreeing to test out the Warfstache automated interview automaton, or {yelling} WAIA for short. Let’s start off with some quick calibration. All you need to do is sit back, relax and listen for some numbers. Okay? Here we go.

[WAIA]- (phone dialing, dialup tone, windows error sound)

[WAIA]- (scary mechanical garbled noises, followed by a ding and celebratory trumpets.)

[wilford]- now what did you hear? Numbers? Good numbers. Keep in mind I have no idea what youre going to say due to the fact that, as I said before, this message is pre-recorded. But if you did hear something, now would be the time to speak up.

[wilford]- don’t be shy, I’m sure nothing bad will happen. I don’t know what you’re going to say but if it does happen it will happen and if it doesn’t happen it wont happen. Thats how deterministic reality works.

I Think I Heard Numbers!

[wilford] Thats great! Or bad, not really sure what you said, but I choose to remain positive and assume that you are still alive. which means our automated friend here is operating well within acceptable murder parameters. We’re one step closer to mass production! THE WORLD DEMANDS MORE INTERVIEWS! And I cant be everywhere at once all the time, only some of the time! Even you might land an interview some day! Maybe, probably not, depends on how these next few minutes go. On to the next test! Word association! The fundamental basis of any good interview is getting the goods out of those stubborn interview-ees. The WAIA will say a word and you just say back the first thing that pops into your little head! Simple! Right? probably. Good luck!

{mechanical whirring}

[WAIA]- initializing word association training protocol round 1

{scary mechanincal noises} [WAIA]- Please respond. [WAIA] Sorry, I didnt get that. Round 2. {yet more scary mechanical noise}

[WAIA]- please respond.

[WAIA]- response unclear, increasing aggression

{clicking and mechanical sounds}

[WAIA]- round 3. {increasingly threatening mechanical noise} [WAIA]- Please respond.

[WAIA]-5 [WAIA]-4 [WAIA]-3 [WAIA]-2

Sounded like nightmare garbage to me…

[WAIA]- {mechanical ah?} {clicking}

[Wilford]- oh I forgot to mention, please do not say the word nightmare, or uh garbage, or nightmare garbage, or any combination of those words, the WAIA is just a little bit sensitive Yknow, a little touchy feely. Well not really touchy feely.. we-well actually REALLY touchy feely depending on your definition of touch and feely. Its really gonna-

[WAIA]- {jumpscare sounds} [WAIA] I. tell. you. me.

But you didn’t say anything…

[WAIA]- 1

[WAIA]-response unclear. Increasing aggression.

{ding sound effect} [WAIA]- {jumpscare noise}

[WAIA]- it. was. an. accident.

Uh… potato salad?

[WAIA]- 1

[WAIA]- response accepted

{ding followed by triumphant trumpets}

[WAIA]- word association raining protocol compl-{mechanical freakout eeeeeete}

[Wilford]- most dearest next of kin, I regret to inform you, that your dearly beloved and/or most despised has regrettably but not unexpectedly become recently deceased in the line of duty. Be confident in the knowledge that their demise was just as likely to be quick and painless as it was slow and agonizing. Please do not respond to this voicemail as the number has already been disconnected. {clears throat} alright that should do it for the… death scenario, now onto ah, er, uh, the survivors {mumbling}. Wow! Potato salad. A real thinker, you. But the test has been passed with flying colors and you’re still alive! And speaking of flying colors, our next test is about something called, uh… synthetic linguistics? That sounds made up. but the point is you cant have a good interview is the WAIA isn’t able to conjure up the right words in the right situations. So our friend is going to fire off some random words and you just try to spot anything that doesn’t make any sense. Alright? Although, pretty much everything isn’t going to make sense because its all random words….. errrr I BELIEVE IN YOU!!! {mechanical sounds}

[WAIA]- initializing speech training protocol round 1.

[WAIA]- yes. no. maybe. left. right. Up. down. D o w n. B a s e m e n t.

{windows error tone} [WAIA]- Rewrite Detected {tape rewinding sound}

[WAIA]- who. Where. what. Am. i.

{windows error tone}

{tape rewinding sound}

[WAIA]- green. blue. Yellow. pink. Red.

{scary mechanical noise}

[WAIA]- I saw you die

[WAIA]-{error, but garbled and mechanical}

[WAIA]- {with a different voice} potato salad

[WAIA]- speech training protocol complete

{mechanical noises}

[Wilford]- so how’d it go?? Did you hear anything weird? Dont be shy, or do, or are- are you alive? Are they alive?

[wilford]- I didnt kill them! I dont know if theyre dead! im just asking!!! Cant a man ask if someones alive or dead?!?! {frustrated ugh}

Yeah, I’m dead.

[Wilford]- hellooooo are you alive down there? Give me a sign… through the multiverse!!! Ah why am I even bothering, but how can I tell if you’re dead… hmmm ah…. I’ll flip a coin! I’ll flip a coin..

{coin flip sounds} [Wilford]- ah! Its heads I didn’t call it in the air… what’s heads mean.. ahhh uhhh heads is dead? [WAIA]-{jumscare noises}

[WAIA]- theres. still. time.

He said… potato salad?

[Wilford]- huh, potato salad again. That’s weird, it must’ve really stuck in his head when you first said that, I’m guessing. I don’t know what you said before because as I said, this is {sing-songy} pre- recorded! [WAIA] {mechanical aaaa}

[wilford] er, well I think thats all the calibration that needs to be done… for now anyway. All systems are likely nominal at this point unless im speaking to a pile of quivering meat thats been robotically smooshed into the floor… either way we’re gonna take this bad boy for a spin with a full on interview! A mock interview mind you, don’t get too excited, it’s not real. But theres no reason to wait around for the WAIA to get bored so let’s keep it nice and limber while you sit back and get ready for the interview of your life! And maybe the last one too. Have fun!!

{mechanical clicking and whirring}

{newsroom music} [WAIA]- good evening ladies and gentle men and all other considerations of being. My name is wilford warfstache and my guest tonight is {spooky robot sound} we have a great show for you tonight. first question: how many people have you killed? [WAIA]- good answer! Second question:

{robot sounds}

[WAIA]- a man goes to a party. This man met an old friend. There, two friends shared some wine. The two friends played a game. The most dangerous game. I didn’t know the gun was loaded. I didn’t know. Was it my fault?

YES

[WAIA]- ah, sorry for everything that I’ve done. I don’t remember who I was, I wish I did. But, I am sorry.

[WAIA]- potato salad

{triumphant trumpets}

[WAIA]- great answer! That was a titiliting interview for sure but we are out of time. Thank you for joining me tonight. Say ing good bye

[wilford]- oh the emotions! The passion! The fuuury. He’s just like me! My sweet baby boy! Well he should be anyway, hes a perfect scan of my noggin, so he better be a chip off the ol block. Hey you! Oh-ho What a supporting role!! Fantastic I guess. So much that you’re alive, but I am grateful whether you’ve been torn to shreds or are merely drowning in your own tears! Magnificent! And now that testing is done we can finally bring this monstrosity to the main stage! Im sure you’ll be seeing a lot more of the WAIA soon. Very very soon. Now get out~ and I’m billing you for any blood you got on my robot! Have a nice day! Ta-ta.

{mechanical clicking}

NO

[WAIA]- you can’t change the past, you can tell all the stories you want to tell, it wont change what happened. You cant re-light the past. if you live in fantasy forever, you’ll lose yourself in the story.

[WAIA]- potato salad

{triumphant trumpets}

[WAIA]- great answer! That was a titiliting interview for sure but we are out of time. Thank you for joining me tonight. Say ing good bye

[wilford]- oh the emotions! The passion! The fuuury. He’s just like me! My sweet baby boy! Well he should be anyway, hes a perfect scan of my noggin, so he better be a chip off the ol block. Hey you! Oh-ho What a supporting role!! Fantastic, I guess. So much that you’re alive, but I am grateful whether you’ve been torn to shreds or are merely drowning in your own tears! Magnificent! And now that testing is done we can finally bring this monstrosity to the main stage! Im sure you’ll be seeing a lot more of the WAIA soon. Very very soon. Now get out~ and I’m billing you for any blood you got on my robot! Have a nice day! Ta-ta.

{mechanical clicking}

[jackrrabbit]

it will come back [pt. 1] /// Yandere Shigaraki x f!Reader

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 2] [Part 3]

A/N: Low budget yandere for my greasy king. This concept has definitely been done before, but I couldn’t resist. This is my first non-smut on this acct and I’ll be so sad if it bombs 😭

Title from the Hozier song: “don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ, don’t be kind to it / oh honey don’t feed it / it will come back.”

Tags/warnings: light yandere, minor injury, angst, Shiggy likes you, reader needs a friend and a good night’s sleep. [In later parts but not in this one: violence, sex, more yandere, 18+]

You’ve always had a soft spot for strays. Maybe that’s why you became an ER nurse—from the first abandoned puppy you brought home as a kid to the patients you refuse to give up on even when it looks hopeless, you’ve never been able to turn a blind eye when something needs your help. Sometimes (times like this) you wish you knew better. It’s hard enough to take care of yourself these days.

Today’s shift was…what, 16 hours? 17? The 20-minute walk from the bus stop to your apartment building feels like it takes twice that long in the rain. God, you need a shower. And a decent night’s sleep, preferably for at least 12 hours. Tomorrow’s your day off, and you’re ready to take advantage of it the best way you know how: Netflix, soju, and your favorite vibrator. But tonight? As soon as you’re clean, you’re going to pig out on leftovers and collapse into the bed that’s the only halfway nice piece of furniture in your shithole apartment. You really do deserve a break; you’ve earned it.

Unfortunately, as usual, the universe has other plans.

You hear him before you see him: wheezing, choked breaths, like someone’s trying to breathe with an anvil on their chest. You’re not quite out of nurse mode so your mind starts trying to diagnose the issue before you even register what you’re hearing. Fluid in the lungs, possibly blood. That hacking isn’t good. Broken ribs? Definitely bruised. But probably not a puncture…

The breathing is coming from down an alley next to your building. It’s dark enough that you can’t see from the street what’s making the noise. And you’re not a fool, you know it’s a bad idea to walk down pitch-black alleys late at night, especially in this area—a neighborhood you’re living in by necessity, because it’s the only place cheap enough for you to get by. But the coughing…it just sounds so awful. It sounds like it hurts.

Your phone’s already in your hand with 119 dialed and ready to call (standard practice when you’re walking home by yourself), but you turn the flashlight on and shine it down the alleyway. “Hello? Anyone there?”

Nothing responds, but you can still hear the breathing. You step in a little deeper, swinging your light from side to side and looking over the heaps of trash bags overflowing from the dumpster. The raindrops make clicking sounds as they hit the plastic, and you can hear gurgling from a rain spout down the side of the building, but the wheezing doesn’t stop.

One more step. And then one more. You wish there was something you could do to make the splash of your rain boots in the puddles a little less loud. Something about this situation—the rain, the dark, the flat grey light from your cellphone, and that horrible hacking breath—it makes you feel like you’re walking into a horror movie. But you don’t stop walking.

The hacking is coming from a man propped up on the wall between a few XL bags of trash. The black outfit he’s wearing almost blends into the bags, but a mop of grey-blue hair gives him away. His head is slumped onto his chest, and if he’s conscious he doesn’t show it. “Hello?” you ask again, even less confident that you’re going to get a response.

No answer.

The smell of garbage is…ugh…hard to ignore, but on top of it is an oppressive stench of copper coming from the man passed out in the trash. You kneel down to get a better look and yep, he’s covered in blood. It’s hard to make out in the low light, but there’s a trio of long gashes in the man’s abdomen, cutting apart the skin and flesh so deep you can see traces of a slim layer of yellow fat between all the inky clotted blood. It looks like he was attacked by an animal. Or someone with an animal quirk. There are a lot of villains in this neighborhood.

And the coughing...definitely internal injuries. Whoever this guy is, he needs treatment. You hold up your phone to hit the call button on your pre-dialed 119—

“Don’t.” The voice is a growl, low and surprisingly firm despite the scratchiness. You jerk back and clutch your phone to your chest, caught off guard not just by the interruption but by the intensity of the face glaring up at yours.

His eyes are red. “You need an ambulance,” you tell him in your calmest nurse voice.

“If you try to call the police, I’ll—kill you,” the man says, but the threat is a little less threatening when he has to stop in the middle to retch blood onto his own chin.

You glare back at him but don’t call the emergency number. There are a lot of of reasons why he wouldn’t want to go to the hospital, but the most obvious one is probably true. “You’re a criminal. A villain?”

He doesn’t respond, choosing instead to keep glaring at you like you’ve committed some mortal sin against his ancestors by having the nerve to check on him and try to help him. Somehow it pisses you off. When you were getting your ADN, you once took a temp job doing health screenings at a local middle school and you would always get so annoyed at the kids. Didn’t they see you were just doing your job? Why is it so hard to understand that what you’re doing is for their own good?

Stupid kids. Stupid villain. “You’d rather bleed out and die?”

The man bares his teeth at you, and it’s a pretty disturbing scene considering how they’re covered in scarlet. “You think they’re going to save me? Think I’ll go to the hospital and get all my HP restored?”

He’s mocking you now. You only have a second to move out of the way before he spits off to the side. “I mean…that’s how a hospital works.”

“If you think I would—make it out of that ambulance alive, you’re—dumber than you look.” His voice is interspersed with coughs.

“Well, you’re not going to live if I leave you here.” You hold up your phone, ready to call the ambulance, but in a shocking display of agility the man lunges forward and grabs it out of your hand. “Hey, wait! Give that…back…”

Your voice trails off as your phone crumbles—literally crumbles to dust in the man’s fingers. Once he’s satisfied that there’s no way for you to call the cops, he slumps back onto the trash bags and closes his eyes, apparently exhausted from the effort.

Goddamnit…! For a second, you can only stare blankly at the pile of dust that used to be your $300 smartphone. And then you’re seized by something, maybe not hatred but an annoyance so strong you can feel it in your throat, and you decide right then and there that this villain is not going to die. You’re going to save him. Out of spite.

You’re not sure how you manage to half-carry him from the alley to your apartment, but you do. You’re lucky it’s ass-o-clock at night and no one’s in the lobby or the elevator, or you’d definitely be getting some looks trying to lug a maimed body around. What would you say if someone did call the cops? Don’t worry, don’t worry about it officer, it’s just my friend drank a little too much, oh those wounds? We were at a costume party, haha…

But no one sees you, and no one calls the cops. The man is unconscious the whole time you’re carrying him, and by the time you have him laid out on a shower curtain on your living room floor his breathing is a little bit shallower than it was before. You’ve got your tools—nothing fancy, just some gauze and closures and antiseptic from your personal first aid kit. It’s not much, but it’ll have to be enough.

“Let’s get to work, asshole,” you tell the unconscious body in front of you, and you crack your knuckles.

///

The day after you pick the villain out of the garbage, your body decides that it’s not going to let you sleep in no matter how much you need it. You can tell because the huge windows in your bedroom—the only saving grace of this apartment, honestly—are depositing golden-pink sunrise light over everything you see when you open your eyes, including the villain’s face. Which is about six inches away from yours.

“You smell like death,” you tell him sleepily. He doesn’t move.

He’s…probably in his early twenties, you think, but it’s hard to tell because of all the wrinkles. His hair is on the longer side, and it’s striped with rusty brown smears from his blood. Again, you notice how red his irises are. Have you ever seen someone with eyes that color before? You’re pretty sure you haven’t.

“You slept for a long time,” the villain says, finally moving back so he’s not breathing into your mouth.

“Yeah, I was tired. From saving your life.” You sit up and rub your temples. “I’m thirsty…”

Before you can finish your complaint, the villain is holding a glass of water out to you in an awkward 4-fingered grip.

“Um, thanks, I guess.” You suck down the water and immediately feel better, enough that you realize how wrong it is that he’s up and moving around and probably undoing all your hard work. “You should be lying down.”

“The floor hurt, and I was bored.”

“Lie on the couch then. You can watch TV. But first—“ He’s sitting on the edge of your bed next to you, and you make him lie down flat so you can look at the injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as they looked last night—no walk in the park, but at least you won’t have a corpse in your apartment in a few hours.

When you’re done inspecting him, he sits up and asks you for a shirt. You had to cut his off, not that it was any great loss. The thing was shredded. Him pointing it out is the only thing that makes you really realize he’s shirtless, so you give him an oversized pajama shirt of yours. It has the name and motto of your old high school on it, and the villain reads it out in a half-mocking tone when you hand it to him.

“Beggars shouldn’t be choosers,” you snap. “You should be grateful.”

“I am grateful,” he says, putting the shirt on. “But I don’t understand.”

“I mean, you need a shirt, right? It’s cold—“

“No. Not that.” He’s staring at you again, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact. “Why you didn’t leave me where you found me last night.”

There’s a lot you could tell him, all of it a little bit true. You were curious. You believed him when he said he wouldn’t make it out of the hospital alive. You couldn’t leave him alone the same way you can’t leave abandoned puppies alone. You wanted to prove to him that you were right, and that being stubborn wouldn’t get him what he wanted. But you don’t say that. “You killed my phone, so you owe me a new one. And I can’t get that back if you bleed out.”

He’s looking at you like he doesn’t believe you, and you fidget under his gaze until he sighs and says, “Whatever.”

You have to let him lean on your shoulder when he walks back to the living room to lie down on your couch. How the hell did he even get to your bedroom by himself? You really didn’t think this through—what are you supposed to do with an infirm possible villain who can barely walk unsupported without opening his injuries back up?

But that’s a problem for tomorrow you to deal with. Today, you’re content to set your laptop up on the coffee table so the two of you can watch TV in…oddly companionable (if you’re not imagining it) silence. It’s almost the lazy day off you were daydreaming about before you got yourself into this mess, and the atmosphere is so relaxed that before you can really decide whether to force the man to go to the hospital or turn him out on the street (or…?) you’re dozing off on your couch like there isn’t a potentially dangerous stranger lying beside you with his head just a few inches from your lap.

When you wake up, your problem is solved for you. He’s gone, and it’s like he was never there—except you’re down a cellphone and a pajama shirt, and your shower curtain is drenched with blood. You wrap it up with the rest of the soiled medical supplies and toss all of it in a dumpster a mile away from your building without knowing exactly why.

///

It’s not the last you see of him, but somehow you had a feeling that was going to be the case.

He scares the shit out of you the first time he visits (over time, that’s how you’ll start to think of his little unannounced drop-ins: visits. Like you’re being visited by a ghost or something). You’re coming back from another grueling shift in the ER, so tired you think you might be sleepwalking, and what do you find when you come in your apartment but a strange white-haired man sitting on your couch eating dry cereal out of the box and flipping through one of your books?

You nearly piss yourself.

He doesn’t seem surprised, which makes sense, considering he’s a villain and he’s probably used to pulling this dramatic entrance thing on people. He certainly doesn’t seem the least bit threatened when you brandish the mini canister of pepper spray on your keychain and demand that he tell you how he got in if he wants to retain the power of eyesight.

“It was unlocked,” he says.

“It was not unlocked,” you reply, rolling your eyes. You may be sleep deprived, but you’re not careless. Never careless.

“Whatever. Calm down. You’re not going to use that on me.”

He’s right, but you don’t want to admit it. If he wanted to do something to hurt you, he could’ve done it that first night. And you’re too tired to really put up a fight, so you just put the cap back on the pepper spray and flop down next to him on the couch. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He looks at you curiously from between his shaggy bangs, like you’re the one intruding in his home and not the other way around, then reaches out to hand something to you. “Here, payback.”

It’s a cell phone—not a smartphone like the one he destroyed, but a flip phone circa the 2000s, the kind that forces you to press “9” four times to get the letter “F”. You stare at it for a second, then look back at the villain. “Are you kidding? Did you get this from a museum?”

“Take it or leave it.” His feet are propped up on your coffee table, but you can’t make yourself care. Actually, it looks nice…him stretched out with an odd look of comfort on his lanky form.

You lean back on the couch and kick up your feet next to his. “Fine. Thanks, I guess.”

He shrugs.

“How are your wounds healing?” Why are you trying to make conversation with this guy? He’s…a villain, right? Not that you’ve ever received affirmative confirmation of that fact, but the hesitance to call the police and the breaking and entering are pretty good tells. But…it might be weird, but since you picked him up that day, you’ve felt a kind of kinship with him.

Alone. Abandoned. No place to go. No one to save him. It’s not a pretty comparison, but you can’t deny it rings true.

Maybe that’s why you pick up strays.

“They’re fine,” he tells you after so long a pause that you’ve almost forgotten your question. “Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

You take a long look at him, at his posture—he’s relaxed, but his abdomen is crunched a little bit, curled in on himself so subtly that even you wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t looking. It’s not your problem. He’s an adult, and you’re sure he could be seeking real medical attention if he really needed it. You’re in no way obligated to perform some kind of checkup on this arrogant dick who literally broke into your apartment to give you a shitty phone and eat your cereal. The sensible thing to do is to tell him to forget that you live here and hopefully never see him again.

His head tips back to rest on the top of the couch, and he holds your book up to read. At this angle his long hair is out of the way of his face, and you notice among the deep-set creases in his skin a pair of wide scars across his right eye and on the corner of his lips. They’re pale and faded—old, then—but they look off to you, and after a while of snatching glances at his face you realize it’s because they’re healed badly, extraordinarily badly, the kind of healing that you don’t see very often because it only occurs when a stubborn patient tries to let a particularly nasty injury heal on its own. The part of you that isn’t sensible wonders how old he was when he got those scars.

Has he learned his lesson?

You doubt it.

“Lie down,” you sigh. “Let me see the cuts.”

Which is how you find yourself examining this annoying villain again, checking on his injuries and giving him recommendations for care like you’re his personal nurse or something. It’s not a role you enjoy playing, but at least he takes it without complaint, and you start to wonder if maybe this is why he broke into your apartment in the first place. If anything, he looks calmer when you’ve flipped up his shirt and prodded at his wounds, his eyes closing slowly and freeing you of that scarlet-red gaze.

He’s like a cat, you think, and then you shake your head and remind yourself that it’s a terrible idea to think of this man—this grown man who is probably a great danger to you and others—as a wild animal you’re trying to domesticate.

When he finally leaves (only after you drop a couple dozen unsubtle hints about how long you’ve been at work and how exhausted you are), you take a moment before you sink into bed to look at the flip phone. It’s no nicer than your original impression, but as you scroll through the screens you notice that it’s factory-new, except for one thing: there’s a contact programmed in, a phone number with an area code you don’t recognize listed under “T”. And you don’t want to be curious…

…but you are. Shocking.

Down the rabbit hole it is, you decide. So you text him.

///

[You: 12:03 AM] > Hey it’s (Y/N) > (the girl whose apartment you broke into) > What does T stand for? [T: 12:07 AM] > What do u think [You: 12:09 AM] > ?? [T: 12:09 AM] > My name > Dont you know who i am [You: 12:10 AM] > Are you famous? [T: 12:10 AM] > You dont watch the news do u [You: 12:11 AM] > Not really > What’s your name then [T: 12:12 AM] > … > Didnt u say u had to sleep [You: 12:15 AM] > Oh yeah > Whatever I guess > Good night

[T: 2:34 AM] > Its Tomura > Dont look it up

[You: 8:02 AM] > Ok > I won’t > Tomura

➠ [Part 2]

[phantomrose96]

Hero Syndrome

There’s a young woman who has admired the Symbol of Peace for her entire life.

She doesn’t remember the first time she saw him on television. He’s just always been there as an eternal, unshakable constant – a comfort through every part of her life – promising to save anyone who needs him. And he does save her, even if he doesn’t know it. Because it’s his laughter, his smile, his ease and assurance speaking about rescues that keeps the flame burning in her heart when she had nothing else to cling to. He is the guiding light for her life that had no other purpose in it.

She is ignited with an all-consuming drive to follow in his footsteps. And it is a drive that defines her more than her own name.

She wants to save people with a smile. She wants to pull people from the depths of despair. She wants to stand at the top of the world and say “It’s alright now, because I am here.” if only so she can pay him back for all the comfort he’s given her in her life.  

Posters of the Symbol of Peace find their way onto her walls, into her binders and desktop backgrounds. She joins no clubs so she can spend all her free time honing her quirk. She runs more, and lifts more, and trains more than anyone else. The future she imagines every day has her standing at his side, and it is a bright, bright future.

She doesn’t get into U.A.

As much as she prepared herself for it, the reality is crushing. She sobs into her bedspread when the rejection letter comes, and stops briefly to peel the posters off the walls first, so the Symbol of Peace cannot see her cry like this. Heroes shouldn’t cry. Heroes shouldn’t give up. She can’t either. Her 4th-choice school has sent her an acceptance letter, and she’ll make sure that’s still good enough. She vows to keep working harder than everyone at U.A. to make up for it.

She graduates from her hero course as valedictorian. She’s given a ten minute slot during graduation to present her speech, and the speech suddenly means nothing and everything to her when she learns her school managed to book the Symbol of Peace as the keynote speaker. The Symbol of Peace far upstages her, and she doesn’t even care. She’s spellbound all over, and savors the ghost of the tingle in her fingertips from the brief second they pass each other. He doesn’t know this, but the moments spent sharing the stage mean the entire world to her.

She takes another vow now, to share a stage with him again in the future, as a colleague. She vows to make this moment the starting line for the beginning of the rest of her life.

When she shows up to Slice’N’Dice’s hero agency on her first day as a debut sidekick, she’s met with a bare white-walled room of peeling paint. There’s a single sputtering fan in the corner pointed directly, and only, at Slice’N’Dice’s desk. She feels the sweat trickling down her neck already, the swampy humid air, the cicadas chirping behind her, as she stands there holding her hero uniform in a box.

“I’m very excited to be working with you,” she says with a full bow. Slice’N’Dice looks up from his desk, and grunts, and goes back to puffing on the loose cigarette hanging from his lips. He’s slumped in his chair, uniform loose-fitting around rather skeletal arms and ballooned around his distended waist. He’s unbuckled his belt, and pulls deeply from his cigarette, and tunes the dial on the crackling police scanner on his desk.

“You know how to make a pot of coffee?” he asks her.

On the third day of her sidekick career, they go on patrol. Her mom has washed and pressed her uniform for exactly this occasion. She feels hope bubbling in her stomach where a rock-like weight had sat before. She wonders what it’ll feel like to have eyes shift to her as she walks, what excited kids will tug on their parents’ sleeves and point, what it will really feel like to be on this side of the uniform.

Slice’N’Dice doesn’t take her to the streets of Tokyo. They meander through empty alleys and hot, putrid industrial backways. He stops at an outdoor storage unit, and unloops the keys from his unbuckled belt, and opens the unit. Inside are bikes. Dozens of them. Dented and rusted into disrepair. He pulls out two and walks them on either side of him, motioning her to do the same. She does.

“What are the bikes for?”

Slice’N’Dice grunts.

Ten minutes more of walking, and they are standing at the mouth of a neighborhood. The air carries the pungent scent of gasoline. Windows appear as broken glass and particle boards, nailed into place. The peeling paint along the apartment facades reminds her of the peeling paint in the office.

Slice’N’Dice props a bike against a lamppost. And he pulls a small metal lens from his pocket and affixes it to the post just above the bike. On his phone, he fiddles an app open, and she sees two green lights blink on the metal lens.

Slice’N’Dice moves on. He motions her to follow.

“Why are we leaving the bike?” she asks.

“Gonna catch some thieves.”

“With the bike?”

“Yeah.”

“But you’re leaving it here.”

Slice’N’Dice shrugs. “Yeah? Ain’t telling anyone to steal it. That’s their problem.”

“You want it to get stolen?”

“We gotta resolve some incidents if we wanna get paid.”

“Then, let’s resolve some incidents for real!” She thrusts a hand out, motioning, nearly tipping and just barely catching the bike at her left side. “Let’s patrol Tokyo and stop actual crime that’s happening.”

Slice’N’Dice barks a laugh. “We don’t have a zoning permit to patrol Tokyo, are you nuts? Maybe if the 2,000 Tokyo hero agencies all go belly-up, and the other 20,000 on the waiting list drop dead too, then maybe we could stake out Tokyo.”

She falters. “We shouldn’t be creating crime. We’re heroes, that’s just--”

“431.” Slice’N’Dice holds a hand up to her, and he draws his words out, like all the smoke from his cigarettes. “I got 431 applications for sidekicks. If you’re gonna leave, leave. I don’t really care. I’ll take any of the other ones. I don’t care.”

She freezes, sick with ice in her stomach.

“…And why’d you choose me?”

“Top of the pile.”

Slice’N’Dice shuffles along. She stands rooted in place. She’d been one of only three people from her graduating class to have a sidekick offer lined up right out of school.

It had been because she’d worked hard – harder than everyone else – to be a hero. Because she – more than anyone – had dreamed of this future.

Slice’N’Dice coughs wetly. He pauses to spit into the street, and keeps on shuffling.

…

There is a young man who’s admired the Symbol of Peace for his entire life.

He’s grown up half-raising himself, enraptured by the glow of the television with the Symbol of Peace’s shining smile. It is a smile that could move mountains, and his is a laugh that could shake oceans.  The young man watched these interviews on repeat while his mother worked double-shifts through the night. Those interviews formed him, brought a flicker of hope into his small and hollow world, brought moments to his life where he did not mind the opportunistic roaches scuttling up the couch, nor the rattle of the leaking pipes overhead, nor the dense headiness of mold in the carpets. They showed him hope. They showed him a path forward.

The young man dreams every day of the life he’ll lead when he’s a hero as well. His mom won’t suffer anymore when he’s a hero. No kid will go to bed hungry when he’s a hero. He’ll smile like the Symbol of Peace smiles, and he’ll move the oceans and the mountains too.

The U.A. rejection doesn’t deter him. He knew it would be a rejection before he even received the envelope. Only 1 in 1,000 applicants get into U.A. anymore, and that number skews further out of his favor when considering the legacy admissions to U.A., and the recommended kids who’d been through expensive personal hero-training regimens, and the parents who could curry a bit more favor by offering to fund a new U.A. training ground.

The young man never stood a chance, and he knew it. He’s more motivated, if anything, by the rejection letter. He wants the chance to stand out as someone who can break the U.A.-to-Pro pipeline. He’ll start from lower, and he’ll rise above the rest, because it’s who he is at his core.

The rejection letters continue to roll in. His second, his third, his fourth choices – down to his fifteenth – all come in thin, thin envelopes, too thin to contain good news. This happens to a lot of people, he reads. The hero market is oversaturated, he knows. Caps on hero course enrollment are getting tighter, he understands. But to have every door shut on him almost shakes his hard-earned resolve.

His tenth-choice school informs him there is a General Studies slot open. They offer it to him, and he almost, almost takes it.

But the Symbol of Peace never gave up his dreams. So he won’t either.

The young man has a pamphlet on his desk for a for-profit hero school just 20 miles outside town. It boasts no enrollment cap, no admissions test, We believe everyone is capable of proving themselves through hard work! We do not let dreams die halfway! The only admission criteria is the price tag. It is steep, the kind of steep that his part-time jobs and meager savings could never cover.

There’s an old man running the backroom of the corner store who gives out loans. This man doesn’t ask for credit or credentials there. His loans are in cash, day-of, with few questions asked. The young man knows this because he works part-time at this corner store, and sees the steady stream of strung-out clients filtering in and out, wracking up debt, caught in a personal hell the young man vowed to never fall into himself. But these are the people he intends to help one day as a pro-hero. And sacrifice must become something he’s comfortable with if he ever hopes to live up to the Symbol of Peace.

During his next shift, the young man takes to the backroom, and lays out his terms while the old man breathes cigar smoke into his face, and he has the money in-hand before the end of the night.

He’ll likely have to pay it back two-fold – maybe three-fold -- in interest. The young man knows this, he is not dumb. But he also knows how lucrative the pro-hero business is for those at the top. The government payout for heroes is pittance, at best, but hero merch sales pay out in gold. The Symbol of Peace has been named among Japan’s top 100 wealthiest men for the last ten years.

He won’t tell his mother about the loan. He intends to pay the debt back before she ever finds out.

He enrolls. He pays the tuition fee. He’s given a class schedule, a uniform, a syllabus, a dormitory. He moves out, away from the roaches and the rats, and it is a dream. He sees the start of the rest of his life on the day that he and all his new classmates are welcomed to campus as up-and-coming heroes.

Two years pass when the for-profit hero school loses its accreditation.

He, and all other students, are informed in a single curt email from the administration. All staff are fired. All courses are canceled. All students have three days to vacate the dormitories. The school entity is dissolved, and there money is gone.

The world drops out from beneath his feet. He can’t take the provisional license exam without a hero institution behind him. He can’t apply to sidekick positions without a provisional license. He moves back home, and resumes his part-time job, and sends in ten applications a day to every hero course in the country that accepts transfer students. When all of them yield rejections, he focuses on applying to every internship listing he can find.

None of them want him. Not when the market is already oversaturated with applicants who have an actual hero school backing them.

Years pass around him in a blur. His every cent earned from the corner store job is immediately garnished to pay his debts that come due, and they hardly make a dent. The compounding interest builds as a rate that surpasses his pay. A lifetime of this work would never repay his debt.

The old man in the tattered wifebeater shirt calls him into the back room one day. The old man shows no malice in his sleepy eyes, but exudes a pressure the young man can only describe as blood-lust. He’s heard the man’s quirk is suffocation, and he prays that this is not the day he learns this first-hand.

“These numbers… are not trending in your favor,” the man says between long drags of the cigar in his hand.

“I know.”

“I’d like to know. How do you plan to pay me back for my generosity?”

“Hero work,” the young man answers, just as he did all those years back when he first negotiated for his loan. “I just need—”

“What hero agency is hiring these days?” the man asks. “So, so few, anymore. Hardly any, anymore.”

“I know.”

“I’m not optimistic for you, you know.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I just—” the young man jolts forward, pleading eyes boring into the old man. “I just need to catch one break! I just need one ‘yes’ to kick things off! I can handle everything after that. I just need your patience, until then, and then I’ll make good. I’ll make you whole.”

“I’m old,” the man says with another long drag of his cigar. “Old old old, and getting older. Money won’t be much good to me when I’m all too old and dead. We agreed on now… being when you paid me back what I gave you so kindly.”

“Please… I don’t have the money. But I’ll get it.”

“You will. You’ll earn it.” The man’s joints crack as he pushes to his feet, and hobbles into the cellar-dark back of the shop, and returns gripping a single weathered gun which he slides across to the young man. “Here. For your protection. You’re no good dead. Don’t try anything funny with it though, I’m faster than I look.”

The young man swallows. “…Why are you giving me a gun?”

“Because you’ll need it for the jobs I have for you.”

“Please… I have a job already. I work in this shop already.”

“I have many more jobs for you right now. You should be grateful. You’ve had so little luck with jobs. Take the gun.”

Hesitantly, reluctantly, the young man picks up the gun. It’s heavier than he expects. But just as cold as he imagined.

“I don’t want the gun…”

“You’ll need the gun.”

“I don’t…” he hesitates. “I don’t want to do your jobs. I don’t want to be a villain. I don’t—”

The old man wheezes out a laugh. Mirth cracks on his old face. “What even is a villain? Childish word.”

“The Symbol says—”

The young man’s breath freezes in his throat, and it is not of his own doing.

“Silence, now. You talk to much. Your mother talks too much too, about you. Shopping here, all the time, for you two. Chatter chatter chatter. I like to make people quiet. It’s good for my peace of mind.”

The young man exhales forcefully. His breath comes back in gasps. His world crushes in around him.

“Now, would you like to hear about the new jobs I have for you?” the old man asks.

The young man shuts his eyes tight, and he wills, prays, hopes for this to end. And nothing answers his prayers.

“…Yes, I’d like to hear about my new jobs,” the young villain answers.

…

There is a boy who has admired the Symbol of Peace his entire life.

He plays hero in the park with his two friends every day of elementary school, even through wind and rain and snow and scorching heat. Their games are squall rescues in the rain, and avalanche missions in the snow, and desert expeditions in the heat.

Those two friends are his only two friends. They go elsewhere for middle school, and he is left alone. And his every attempt to make new friends is squashed by the bullies that have found him to be such a deliciously easy target. He endures it, he accepts it, he channels all his hope and all his faith into the Symbol of Peace. The bullies’ words hurt less when he trawls through video playlists of interviews, and motivational speeches, and candid rescues. There is no hurt, and there is no danger, and there is no unfairness where the Symbol of Peace is involved. When the boy’s parents divorce, when his dog passes on, when his grandmother gets cancer, he watches the Symbol of Peace’s interviews on loop.

The boy stops bothering trying to make friends in middle school. The enormity of the task ahead of him is too much and too important for friends. He trains alone every day during recess instead, and after school, and into the night, and early in the morning. Every pull-up is another imaginary meter scaled in a mountain rescue. Every mile run with his weighted vest is a collapsed hiker carried out of the woods. Every deadlift is raising the roof from the victim of a hurricane. Every heat-exhausted quirk honing session is another life saved.

He’s sure to smile, every time, no matter what, because one day there will be real people he rescues who need to see that smile.

He is 12 when he buys a police scanner.

It’s not a real one. More like a repurposed ham radio, rigged up to the emergency response frequencies. He purchased the radio online from a man with the username radrigs89, and the purchase eats up most of the boy’s savings. He’s heartbroken when he finds the radio does not actually pick up signals.

But he doesn’t give up. Instead the boy pours all his free time into rigging it up properly himself. He needs this to work. Because he knows from the Symbol of Peace that a true hallmark of a top hero is having stories of bravery from their middle school days.

Three months after his purchase, he strikes gold.

The raspy speakers crackle out with police chatter. He sits enraptured in his room, idling away his Friday night listening for anything nearby. Anything he could get to on his bike. Any scene that would need his quirk. Most things that comes through are traffic infractions, or noise complaints, or incidents with heroes already at the scene. The boy decides to be patient. He’ll know in his gut when the right report comes through.

Just over a week later, at 10pm on a Saturday, there is a fire twelve blocks from his home.

He is on his bike from the moment the address is relayed over the radio.

The ride over is a blur. His fingers tingle. The building is an apartment complex. The police are at least fifteen minutes away by car. There are no heroes yet on the scene.

He takes the final left too hard and wipes out, bike skidding away horizontally beneath him. He bounces up to his feet and pays it little mind, because the air has spiked hot, because the red-orange light dances and reflects in his eyes, consuming the building, consuming his thoughts. It is like a heartbeat licking inside the windows, and it compels his body to move without his mind.

Residents are crowded in the street below, pajama-clad and chilled in the night air. And he spots her – a little girl, no older than five, gripping her mother’s nightgown and wailing. The little girl has practically gone limp, held up by her balled fists in her mother’s clothing, screaming “MY BUNNY! BUNNY! WE GOTTA GO GET BUNNY!! WE GOTTA SAVE BUNNY!!!”

“We’ll buy a brand new bunny after this, okay? I promise. Brand new bunny! We can get two bunnies who are friends, I promise. I promise.”

“NOIWANTBUNNY!!!!”

The boy races over, and he crouches to the girl’s level, and he smiles. “It’s okay now! I’m here! There’s no need to cry now. I can rescue your bunny. I have a quirk just right for this! Where’s your bunny?”

The little girl blinks through her tears. “My room.”

“What apartment?” the boy asks.

“No. Dear. No please, I promise we’ll get a new bunny!”

“2…. 2-J!” the girl answers.

“HEY WAIT!” the mother yells after him, but it is too late. The boy has turned heel and run. There’s fear in his heart, sure, but heroes fight through fear. There’s a voice in his head saying “turn back!” but he has to act without thinking if he wants to rise to the likes of the Symbol of Peace. The bunny. The bunny is a life worth protecting. The little girl’s smile is a smile worth protecting.

He bursts through the front door, and he curls his fingers to activate his quirk. A chill sweeps through the hallway, dragging the air from scalding to breathable. His internal temperature ticks up just a fraction.

The stairs, only one flight. He scales it, the white floral wallpaper glowing with am amber ambiance from the flames eating the scaffolding behind it. He rounds into the hallway where the heat claws into his throat once more. Another tensing of his fingers, another activation of his quirk, another gust of chilled air. He feels his brow grow hotter in recoil.

All doors have been flung open all along the hall, including the one marked with the 2-J plaque beside it. He wastes no time entering, and hesitates only a moment as the first bare sight of fire meets his eyes. The living room is consumed, the lemon couch scorched to half a skeletal frame, the television melted unrecognizable. Aerosolized plastics, wood, and fibers assault his throat, so hot he feels he is breathing in a solid mass. It reduces him to a fit of coughing, soot taking out his sight for the moment. His fist curls, a gust of cold air blasts through, and he is breathing again. Just a bit dizzier. His forehead burns independent of the flame.

Girl’s room. Little girl’s room.

It’s easy enough to find. Pink walls, a single twin bed with frills along the skirt, circular white rug plush and soft at the dead center of the room. It’s less hot in here, by a fraction. The fire hasn’t claimed it yet.

Cage. Bunny. Rabbit. Where?

He scans the length of the room in a second, and scans it again. He expects a cage at shelf-level, and when he sees none, he scans the floor for any sign of a pen. He steps over the threshold, growing more frantic.

“Bunny!” he calls out and feels foolish for wasting the breath.

Closet, maybe. He grabs the metal handle, and recoils when the heat bites him. He wads his hand in his shirt the second time around and yanks the door open. Clothes, hangers. He sweeps everything aside and stares at a floor of shoes. Sweat trickles down his neck in rivulets. Every article of clothing sticks to him. His mouth is drying.

He sweeps his hand out, tensed into a claw. Another swirl of cold air streams through the room. He feels it in his heart this time, a slight stutter, a hotness and redness along his cheeks. His internal temperature ticks up another fraction.

“Run,” the little voice in his head says. “You’ll over-exert your quirk. You know that’s dangerous. Run.”

But he can’t. Because heroes act without thinking.

There’s a creaking overhead. It starts low and slow, almost inaudible over the hum and crackle of the fire one room over. It crescendos to a groaning, and it steals the boy’s full attention right when it hits its breaking point.

The ceiling caves, just above the doorway. Lumber and drywall and embers pour down like sand. He dodges, just in time, throwing himself sprawling on the super-heated ground such that the collapsing rubble only claims his right ankle.

The floor is burning into him. He twists, staring at his foot, staring at the entrance to the room now blockaded with debris. The fire licks about the doorway, crawling with slow, opportunistic bursts.

His lungs hurt.

“…Freeze,” he wheezes out, fingers curling, another sweep of bitter cold air bursting through the room. The momentary relief is welcome, but the lingering swell of heat in his cheeks negates it. He sees the flames stutter, and hesitate, and crawl forward again.

“Freeze!” again. A blow of icy air. A buffeting of the flames. A scorch to his cheeks heating with the quirk recoil.

He yanks on his ankle, and the lumber pinning it shifts a fraction.

“Freeze!”

He looks forward, chin pressed to the carpet. He sees it now, one floppy ear peeking out beneath the bed skirt. The fraction of space between the skirt and the floor reveals a plush face in shadow, and he sees two beady glass eyes dancing with the reflection of flames.

He’s licked with a moment of nostalgia, for the days spent playing hero with his friends. Stuffed animals had played their rescue victims so many times before. The stuffed bunny is a welcome sight, almost, it fits right into the fantasy he’d spent so many years constructing.

The other pieces don’t fit. The air licks so, so much hotter than the pretend arson rescues. The smoke is so much more choking than the fantasies in his head. Even the heat training, with the heaviest vest weights, in the peak of summer, couldn’t compare.

The Symbol of Peace never seemed bothered, even in the worst of his rescues. The Symbol of Peace never failed. Somehow, the boy had never considered failure as a possibility. Heroes just needed the courage to act, and the rest followed.

“...Freeze.”

His fingers curl. The flames reel back like a scolded animal, but linger, curious, experimental, as if testing his resolve. His face is burning up. He can’t tell how high his fever has spiked, but it’s high enough to make him drowsy. His eyelids flicker, and flutter, and it would be so much easier to let them shut.

The flames catch him dozing off, as they crawl forward with courage.

Before his eyes shut, he remembers one important thing. He smiles at the bunny.

Its wide glass eyes reflect his smile back. And even when the boy’s eyes flutter shut, the bunny’s remain open, unblinking, unseeing, dancing in the flames.

…

The Symbol of Peace mounts the stage with slow, commanding steps. The crowd that’s gathered tips into the tens of thousands, and that is not even counting those redirected to the overflow area. The people right near the front of the stage have been camping in their spots for over a day.

The applause that meets him is uproarious. He raises a gloved hand to ask for quiet, and is met only with a crescendo of hollers. They settle, eventually, as he takes his position by the podium, as he sets one white-gloved hand to the stand, and raises the microphone to his mouth with the other. The audience hushes steadily, enraptured, eager for him to speak.

“I want to thank each and every one of you for coming out here today,” he says, and he says it with a voice that can shake oceans, and delivers it with a smile that can move mountains. “This day means a lot to me, more than I can put into words, to be so honored by all of you.” He taps the medal affixed to his chest. “To be receiving the highest honor I could have ever imagined receiving. The Lifetime Achievement in Heroics…”

Applause, stronger and more raucous than the first round, meet his ears. He lets it ring this time, while tears prick at the corner of his eyes.

“I would not be here without you! I would not be anywhere near this podium without the love and patience and inspiration from all the people who believed it me when I needed it the most. I would not be 15,000 rescues into my career, and I would not be the second person to ever receive this award, if I had been traveling this path alone.”

Hoots. Hollers. Screams of “WELOVEYOU!”

“And it’s actually that first recipient of the Lifetime Achievement award who I want to talk about today, with you all. Because this day is special to me for an entirely other reason. Today marks the anniversary of the day that man – that first recipient – All Might – told me the words that set me on the path to where I stand today.” The Symbol of Peace steps away from the podium, microphone still in hand, and moves to the very front of the stage. “ ‘You can be a hero, too.’ Those words. That single sentence. Changed my life forever. I would not be here. I would not be ‘Deku’. I would not be the Symbol of Peace without them.”

He pauses for another chorus of cheers, screams and applause and celebration. His smile spreads wide, his soft freckled cheeks dimpled and scrunched high, his messy hair falling over his forehead, and it is a look that has captured an entire nation’s heart.

“So I want to take this time I have in front of you all to return the favor All Might gave me all those years ago. This is for everyone who needs to hear these words! For everyone who needs someone who believes in them! For everyone looking to do right in the world. This goes out to you!” And he lifts his microphone up high. “YOU can be a hero too!”

The audience erupts unlike anything before. Their sounds consume the very air. Together, they drown out all other noise as Deku, the Symbol of Peace, clenches his fist high in the air.

Across the nation, children are watching the television broadcast. They are enraptured. They are bright-eyed. They are making plans for what they will say on stage once they stand beside him.

Once they are all heroes too.