#destined pt1 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

restinslices · 8 months ago

Text

Everything pt3

PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 6999 (I made a few word changes at the last minute so this is inaccurate. Rip)

Summary: Everything pt1 and 2 from Ares perspective

Warnings: Sad shit. Ares threatening to murder Athena’s owl so animal cruelty? OOC Ares but this is not y'all first rodeo. Possible OOC Athena but who isn’t a little shit to their sibling? (The way that most of the gifs of him on here are him beating on Percy-)

You wanna know how to keep your sanity somewhat intact as a god?

Don't worry about your children.

Gods are immortal. Their children? Not so much. If the gods watched over all their kids and were as involved as people wanted them to be, that meant everytime one of them died, they'd be torn up. Gods had too many kids. The grief would never end.

That's how Ares saw it at least. Plus, that's how Zeus had it. You couldn't be too involved, and Ares didn't complain. Hating your kids was so much easier than openly loving them. Sure, he would watch his kids from a distance sometimes but there were gods like Hermes who thought about his kids every single day. One specific child tore him up from the inside. If anyone ever mentioned Luke Castellan, his face would go all solemn and he'd make some excuse to leave.

That's what happened when you cared about one child. Imagine how it would be if the gods cared about all their kids this way. Endless torment.

The brain was a funny thing though. You could try not to think about something, and it'd pop in your head anyway. Sometimes, you just did things because your brain was used to it. Like a morning routine. You don't think about everything you're doing when you're getting ready for the day, you just do it because that's what your brain is used to. Sometimes you'd look somewhere and be flooded with emotions linked to certain memories. The brain was very interesting.

Ares didn't mean to stumble upon one of his kids. It just happened. Went back to that brain thing. Ares only meant to have a nice late night drive in the rain, no real destination in mind. That was his mistake. If he had a destination in mind, he wouldn't have been on autopilot and drove down a street that was linked with multiple emotions and memories.

Memories of a woman he shared laughs with. Memories of a woman he'd hold hands with and take on various bike rides and walks. Memories of a woman he called beautiful and loving on multiple occasions. Memories of a woman that had one of his children and looked as happy as could be when she held them.

There were other memories though.

Memories of a woman he watched turn bitter and cold towards him. He was gone too often and they both knew she wouldn't be the last person he was with. There were memories of them fighting, of her telling him that he left her with a curse she couldn't get rid of. And Ares watched from afar as all the anger she had towards him was targeted at his child because they were within reach.

He gritted his teeth as he thought about it, and he was planning on turning around, but he decided not to when he saw the figure sitting on the ground. He didn't have to be close to know it was you. You sat outside a lot, and he assumed it was because your house was too loud at times. Plus, you had a specific hoodie you got as a gift in middle school and you kept it ever since. Pros of getting a gift way too big for you.

His mind screamed at him. “Do not go any closer! Just mind your business and turn around! Now!”

He didn't stop his bike as he was thinking, and the view of you and what he assumed was gonna be your poor excuse of an offering came closer and closer into view. A fruit roll up? He probably would've ignored you if he wasn't so close.

“Tough night” he said once he was in front of you. Your confusion was clear. You hadn't technically made an offering, so you weren't expecting him to appear. “You were going to”.

You asked why he was here and he responded a little more sarcastic than he meant to, but oh well. Wouldn't matter. He'd take you back to camp, forget this conversation, then that'd be it.

“Why don't you like me?”

The question caught him off guard. It was sudden and came out of nowhere. He hasn't told you or any of his kids he didn't like them, so where the hell did you hear that?

Then you explained, and the conversation kept getting more heated.

Anyone would expect for him to love arguments and usually, he did. This one though, he didn't. The more points you kept bringing up, the more he'd try to deflect and move on, and then you'd bring up even more points. You didn't accept him saying he didn't have to explain anything to you, and he hated it. Any other kid wouldn't dare talk to their parent this way, so why did he have to get the difficult one?

You made another good point about how his eyes shouldn't wander when he has Aphrodite and that calm facade slipped for a moment. Not because he didn't want you speaking about her, but because you were right and he had no actual answers for you. He should be satisfied with Aphrodite, and he was. But he was also a god and sleeping with mortals was part of the gig. They never really thought about what happened after. They weren't supposed to.

“I didn't choose to be abandoned by my father and be stuck with a dysfunctional family for the rest of my life. You should be angry at that, not me mentioning Aphrodite. You should be enraged at the thought of anyone putting their hands on me and your hands should be covered in their blood! That is how it should be”.

“Believe it or not, the gods aren't too keen on the idea of killing mortals”

But he wanted to. You had no idea how hard it was to watch one of your children be stuck in a situation you wanted to save them from but couldn't.

Couldn't.

Ares hated that word. As a god, he should've been allowed to do whatever he wanted. “Couldn't” shouldn’t be in his vocabulary, but rules put it there. You had no idea about all he had done to keep those types of men away from you. Did you honestly believe he “broke his wrist at work”? He worked at a fast food place. What were the chances?

He tried. The guy was just persistent. When he eventually gave up, your mom married another guy like him, just in a different font and had kids almost immediately with him. Like the last guy, this one was also persistent. There was only so much Ares could get away with before it'd cause a bigger problem, but he tried to make your life better from afar.

He wanted to beat himself over the head. Why was he so frustrated with himself? The whole point of telling yourself and others that you hated kids, including your own, is that eventually you'd believe it. It was supposed to stay that way. He should've just said “I tried. Get over it”. Why did he wanna try harder? Why did he have this weird ache? Why did the rain suddenly hit him harder and the air smell so bitter?

“None of us asked for this. You all just decide to create and leave us. And you hating the people you created is… I don't know. And it's so stupid that I've spent years of my life trying to get you to be proud of me, only for it to be impossible!”.

That wasn't true at all. Him not being proud of you? He wasn't supposed to have a favorite, but in the back of his mind he knew his favorite was you. He didn't give gifts to just any of his kids, it was for a reason. It was a small hint that he was watching and liked what he saw. He watched how you carried yourself in battle. You didn't just run in angrily, no. You understood battle. You understood your opponent. You actually looked into wars and you and a few of his other children would try to spot where his influence was. He'd be pretty stupid not to have you as a favorite.

But you couldn't hear that. If he said any of that out loud, that'd make it real. If he said all of that out loud, his facade would crack and that's something he couldn't let happen. So he defended himself instead. “I claimed you didn't I?”.

He didn't expect what happened next.

Firstly, he didn't expect that you'd start to actually yell at him. Only fools who didn't care about their lives did that. Secondly, he didn't expect that ache he felt to get worse with every little thing you said. Especially the last part.

“... If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”.

The facade slipped from his face for a second. How couldn't it? You looked so beaten down and broken, and not because you were in a fight. He would've preferred that. If you had just finished a quest and you looked badly beaten with bruises everywhere, he would've felt better than he did now. At least then he wouldn't feel so guilty. Guilt was another feeling he hated. It meant he did something or made a mistake and he had a reason to feel guilty. Feeling guilty meant he cared enough about you and regretted what he done. It meant the lies he told himself for years weren't satisfying him anymore. It meant he had a problem.

He tried to tune out the rest of the interaction. He heard your comment about being a burden, and your crying, then your realization that you had yelled at a god, and your comment about him cursing you, but he tried not to focus on any of it. All he did was throw a pouch of drachmas on your lap and watch you suspiciously open it. If you didn't want a ride from him back to camp, you could at least call for another. He could've just tossed you one, but you didn't have any on you. He figured you needed it more than him.

“You're leaving?” You asked.

“I have a busy schedule”. It wasn't necessarily a lie. He had a particular house call he had to make, so technically he had something on his schedule. Besides that though, he knew he had to leave.

The thing about being away from your kids, is that it makes hating them easier. As twisted as it sounds, they're not there to defend themselves. It's easier to put walls up when there's not someone in front of you knocking them down over and over again.

Then you did another thing that weirdly hurt. You didn't call him dad.

What was wrong with him? Must've been just an off day. That's all it was, right?

“Yeah” he accidentally replied to himself out loud before he sped off.

Just an off day.

You wanna know another way to keep your sanity intact as a god?

Don't have an off day.

Why? Because being around gods is like being around elementary school bullies. The gods still hadn't let Ares live down that day when him and Aphrodite got trapped by Hephaestus. Almost every single meeting they'd had, someone made a sly joke. Do you know how annoying it is to hear “I heard you're good at… NETworking” multiple times a year? You'd help Kronos escape too!

Gods notice when you have off days. They also dabble in business that had nothing to do with them.

When Ares noticed he was missing offerings from a particular child, he must've seemed off. You know who smelled it on him? Athena.

Ms “look at my owl! I'm so smart! Dad loves me more! Hahahaha I'm just so much better at war!”. Couldn't Kronos strangle her first?

“Ares, brother of mine, you seem so distracted”. Shielding her nosiness as concern. Of course.

“I was taking in the view until you ruined it”. She smiled, but it wasn't a smile of joy. It wasn't a smile of bitterness and anger either. It was the kind of smile someone gave you before they dealt a crushing blow. Sinister almost.

But sure, she was totally the better and nicer god. Yeah, ok.

“Olympus certainly is beautiful. I'm surprised a brute can comprehend something as ‘beautiful’ and 'take in a view’ ”.

He couldn't help but think to himself “this is the person people prefer?”. At least he was openly mean. Athena was like one of those mean girl characters in movies Aphrodite made him watch. Real snarky but hid it well.

“You can't turn me into a spider, so I'll just say it; you're a real bitch and one day I'm gonna kill that disgusting owl of yours”

“You'll do no such thing!”. Threatening an owl made her angry? But if he called her pathetic then it's “Ares be nice to your sister!”.

“Anger over an owl? You're pathetic-”

“Ares!” Hermes seemed to shout from out of nowhere “be nice to Athena!”

See?

He couldn't even throw something at Hermes because he was there one second and gone the next.

Athena chuckled. “The smell up here is heavenly too. I can smell the offerings my children give me so well up here-”

“What do you want?” he asked, tired of this game already. “Get to it and make it fast. I don't like you”.

“Hmm, you know who does like me? A particular child of yours”. She didn't need to say your name for him to know who she meant, but she did it anyway.

“I don't care” he lied. It should've been the truth, but the memories of your last talk coming back and the fact that you chose her out of all the gods to switch over to pissed him off more than he liked to admit. “I have other kids”.

“But each child is special, aren't they? There's only one of them”.

“I don't care about any of them”.

“Then you shouldn't care about what I'm about to say next; it's not just me. I asked around and I guess your child prefers others. Such a sad time. Speaking of other gods, did you know Poseidon got an offering from them recently? Poseidon, father of the child that beat you in combat, well they'll be watching over that child that beat you in combat. Maybe they'll even visit that beach where-”

“It was one time and his dad helped him!”

“Whatever you say”. Ares had to remind himself that destroying another god wouldn't look good for him. That owl though? He was gonna poke a hole through it.

“I couldn't imagine any of my children doing that. Must put a lot on your mind” she patted his shoulder then walked away.

You gave offerings that belonged to him, to other gods. Worse of all, Athena. Then you decided to watch over Percy Jackson of all people? Really proved you were his. You knew how to hit people and make them feel it. It was just unfortunate it was happening to him.

He didn't care. That's what he told himself. He was just being nosey. Hermes did it all the time, why couldn't he?

He didn't think about your last conversation and ever since then he'd been watching over his kids more.

He didn't care about one child not giving him his offerings.

He wasn't seeing what the hell was going on being he cared. Absolutely not. He was just bored and nosey. That's all it was.

Ok so Ares had made a little oopsie.

After your talk, Ares made a little house call and things got out of hand and some hospital visits had to be made. Whoops?

Because of that, your mom and step dad needed no convincing when you asked for legal documents so Sally could take you in.

Well fuck. There went that obstacle.

And because he absolutely did not care and was only a bit nosey… he kept watching over you.

He kept debating with himself. On one hand, he shouldn't have cared. Sure, he was missing offerings from one person but it was only one person. On the other hand, the fact that you kept making offerings to Poseidon, and he even gave you a gift, rubbed him the wrong way. Offerings, gifts, staying with that mortal woman and his son, going to school near each other, it's like you were changing families. Not only did that damage his pride as a god, but it also twisted a knife inside him that he didn't know how to get out.

One day though, Ares got tired of it. He was a god and if he wanted you to cut this shit out, then he'd just force you to. All these emotions were making him weaker than he was, and he was tired of it. You weren't Poseidon's child, you were his. Simple as that. You just needed a reminder.

Slight problem. You and that Jackson boy were idiots.

For reasons unknown to him, neither of you thought “hey, wouldn't two demigods attract a lot of monsters?”. So a big chunk of the time he was watching over you, he was killing monsters. You may have thought you were killing lots of monsters when you snuck over to Jackson's school, but he did a lot more work than you. Behind the schools, outside the apartment building, in between alleyways, everywhere. If he was anyone else, he wouldn't have been having as much fun as he was having.

Fun had a limit though. He'd think about Poseidon and Percy and your last talk and that “fun” would become “annoyance”. Right now, the annoyance was higher than the fun bar.

He was approaching the mall you worked at, and let out a deep sigh when he got closer. He was sure to mortals, it looked like a group of women were standing around and talking about whatever older women talked about. To him though, and anyone else that could see through the mist, the view was more sinister.

Harpies. Not just one. Not two. Not even three. He didn't count them individually, but if he had to guess, there were at least ten. At least.

Ten harpies. One demigod.

One demigod that happened to be his child.

All of that equaled one very pissed off god.

The battle was short. The smart harpies flew away when they smelled him. The stupid ones were ripped limb from limb, beheaded and had holes put in them.

Afterwards, he had a pep in his step. If there were at least ten outside, he could only imagine some made their way inside.

By the time he found you, you had just stabbed your sword through a harpy’s throat. You pulled it out just as another harpy flew in the air.

“MY SISTER!”, it shrieked. You looked up at it, no sense of fear in your body language.

“You want more from the Child of Ares?! I have plenty to give!”. A sense of pride shot through him.

You wouldn't get it unless you were him. He was the god of war for fucks sake, so not only was he watching a child of his in battle, but that same child used his name as a battle call. Sure, armies used to all the time, but it felt different when it was your kid. Once again, you wouldn't understand unless you were him.

Unfortunately though, the fight was cut short. The harpy saw him and stopped, “L-L-Lord Ares. I-”. He didn't waste any time. He grabbed you and threw you at it, and watched as your sword lodged into the harpy and the wall.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Saving your life”.

Your face turned sour and he couldn't help but chuckle. Maybe you didn't know, but you looked the farthest from pleased. If he had to guess, you were probably thinking something like “I had everything 100% under control”. His children tended to have prides as big as Olympus itself.

“Are you gonna catch me?” You asked.

“What for?”

“Because you threw me all the way to the fifth floor and it’d be nice not to break something”

“You need me to warm up milk up for you too?”. Ares made smart ass remarks, and he expected you to make one back. Instead, you firmly planted your feet against the wall and pushed, and like a reflex he moved his arms so he could catch you.

Ares couldn't remember the last time he held you. In all honesty, he wasn't sure he ever held you. He wasn't sure he held any of his kids. He used to. Time was hard to keep track of when you were immortal, but he remembers a time, maybe a hundred years ago, when he used to be present for his kids. Before rules were made and “couldn't” slipped its way into his vocabulary. He used to see his kids all the time. He'd actually keep track, help them on their journey and watch over them. When they died, he'd truly mourn them.

Then rules were in place and now he kept his distance. When they died, did it hurt? Sure. Not as much as it used to though. A pro in a boatload of cons.

When you slipped out of his hands, he noticed a few things. You were a few inches taller, and your hair had grown out. Such small things. Anyone else wouldn't notice, but because of his absence, he always noticed small things like that. He used to think “ok, whatever”. But now, he felt an aura of sadness. You, and the rest of his children, were getting older and he was never really there.

He missed when he was just annoyed or angry when he saw his kids. Anger was way better than sadness.

“I thought you're not allowed to interfere” you said, and he raised a brow. He thought it was real ironic that suddenly you cared for rules as if you hadn't been breaking them.

“Are you gonna tell on me?”

“If you hadn't caught me”

“And now?”

“My lips are sealed”. He wasn't really bothered about you telling. Zeus would get over it, and you only knew about one fight. Not the others.

He could've walked away and left it at that, but he didn't want to. Your words from last time kept ringing in his ears.

“... If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”.

He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was because you were the only child of his that actually voiced how you felt. You made him feel guilty and that small amount of guilt cracked the walls and foundation he worked so hard to build mentally.

Another thought crossed his mind. He didn't want this conversation to stop now. The gods were on borrowed time. Who knew when Zeus would get a bit nosey and he'd be forced to go? He craved what used to be normal hundreds of years ago, and even though it probably wouldn't be that way again, he could pretend for the time being.

“You have money on you?”

“Uh, yeah”

“You're paying for dinner. Let's go”. You owed him offerings anyway.

“I can't” you said after you grabbed his arm.

“Can't?”

“Yeah. I can't. My uh… my ride. Mom. She's coming to get me. You don't want mom knowing you're in town, right?”. Sneaky asshole. If he hadn't been watching, and if you hadn't paused so much, he would've believed you.

He looked you up and down, debating on if he should pop your bubble now.

“Just tax them another burger” he thought and didn't mention he already knew you were staying with Jackson and his mom. Instead, he told you the name of a diner nearby and to be there by noon tomorrow. There was no sneaking your way out of this one.

~~~

Ares wouldn't say he was nervous. It just felt different. Not in a bad way either, which was alarming him. He enjoyed being around one of his kids, even though he was occupied with the Twitter war he started about vaccinations.

You looked at him from across the table with a furrowed brow, and that's when he finally addressed you and told you what he was doing.

He didn't know if you noticed this, but you made a little sound. Like you were beginning to scream but didn't. He looked up at you and you looked laser focused. Were you… were you screaming in your head? Alright. Maybe it was time to put the phone down before you popped a blood vessel.

“You're probably wondering why I've called you here”

You squinted, “I'm wondering why I'm paying”

“Ask me”

“You know I wanna know though so why am I asking?”. He didn't respond. He just stared at you and tapped his foot on the floor loudly. He hoped it annoyed you as much as your smart mouth annoyed him. Maybe this was how parental relationships were supposed to feel though. It'd been so long.

“Ares, the amazing God of War. The Protector of Mistreated Women. Wearer of biker jackets. I come before you as your humble child, begging thee to tell me what required my summons and why you were at the mall last night. Please please please tell me. I'll fall over and die if you don't”. Chiron was doing a terrible job when it came to teaching you manners and if you were anyone else, he would've gotten angry. Instead, he was mildly annoyed.

He motioned towards the platter of burgers and fries, “this is your thank you. This is your offering to me since you haven't been doing that”.

There it was. You visibly tensed now that you were caught.

“You noticed?”

“I did. You demigods think you’re so smart. You have these big egos and think you’re ahead of us. You gave your offerings to Athena and Poseidon of all people” saying it out loud left a bitter taste in his mouth and he got angry again. Poseidon and Athena? Two gods that wouldn't have saved you from that mall incident. Two gods that didn't even try. In all the incidents you've had so far, it's been him trailing behind you and keeping you safe! “And then you stay with that fish boy and his mom. Yeah. I saw that too. And I save your life and you don’t seem the least bit grateful”.

“Yeah dad, I’m super grateful my life consists of monsters trying to eat me and a dad I only see once in a blue moon. Totally grateful”.

“We can’t interfere” he tried to defend his actions again.

“Didn’t stop you last night”

He tsked, “I don’t get you. You complain about my absence then you complain when I’m here when I could be doing anything else!”. Ares kept putting his foot in his mouth. He was so bad at this, it was insane. Ares was never one to coddle his children, but he used to be able to be strict and stern without hurting someone's feelings… majority of the time. Sometimes things are said, but he didn't used to be this bad at it. What he should've done was apologize, but apologizing was never something he was good at. And if he apologized, he'd have to admit he was wrong and promise to do better, and he wasn't sure he could or that he even wanted to.

“Then go do those things. I’m not holding your hand and making you stay! And this isn’t about us and you know it. This is about you. This is about your ego being hurt. You don’t care about my safety. You didn’t go to the mall to protect me. You just love a fight and you were probably disappointed you couldn’t do more”. The scowl you had was so familiar, it was almost creepy. You weren't 100% his twin by any means. You had your own facial features, but dammit, anyone could tell by the scowl alone that you were his. It made that knife he couldn't get out twist a little more.

You were so wrong. Sure, he was at the mall planning to set you straight but he genuinely did care about your safety. You had no idea how many monsters he killed or scared away that were tracking you down, and you had no idea about the other harpies outside the mall. The fact that you thought he didn't care about you at all, hurt him more than he ever wanted to admit.

“That's what you think?” he asked. A tinge of anger in him, but mainly regret and sorrow.

“That's what I know. And I didn’t need your help. I was just fine. The only thing you would’ve missed if I somehow died was your little offerings. I don’t matter to you. Just admit it so we can move on” he wanted to tell you how wrong you were, but you beat him to the punch. “And for your information Percy and Sally are very nice people. They feel more like family than you do”.

The knife kept twisting.

He wanted to share the blame. He wanted to find a way to blame you, or his other kids, or Zeus, but he knew he couldn't. Zeus was a problem. No point in denying that. But Ares could've always tried, and he didn't. He allowed himself to lie to himself over and over again about how he felt about his kids, and now it felt like you were slipping through his fingers and he wasn't strong enough to hold on. He wasn't fast enough to grab you.

It got silent. He didn't know what to say. Ares hardly ever felt powerless, but that's exactly what he felt in this moment. Completely and utterly powerless.

“Have you heard the song American Pie? Yes, it’s somewhat important to what I have to say. Yes or no only please”. He didn't need a mirror to know he looked unamused. What did a random song have to do with anything?

“I don't know. Maybe? Who cares?”.

“There’s a line in the song that says this’ll be the day that I die. And for whatever reason it made me think about what I’d do if I were dying. If I woke up one day and I knew I was gonna die that day, what would I do? You wanna know what I realized?”. He leaned back in his chair. He had no idea where you were going with this but he might as well hear you out. “Shoot”.

“I realized-” your voice wobbled and he did his best to not reveal how much it hurt to hear. “I realized I'd spend every second trying to make you love me”.

The room stilled for him. Everything seemed to pause and he was left in a silent room. Everything was silent, except for his own heartbeat which thumped in his chest in an increasingly slow rhythm.

If Ares was asked to describe how much those words tore him apart, he'd be at a loss for words. It was a feeling you'd only understand if you were a parent, and it was a feeling you'd hope you'd never feel. It was words you hoped you'd never hear. What was worse is that he only had himself to blame. Ares spent years lying to himself about how he felt. It became natural and sometimes he'd lie about things he didn't have to just because lying felt normal. It didn't feel that way anymore. It felt… he didn't know how to describe it. Each lie he's ever told in his life felt like it was being shot back at him at point blank range. He kept feeling various holes being shot in him and he had no idea how to cover them back up.

When you started blinking, which was an obvious attempt to not cry and said “And I uh… I don’t wanna be that way anymore. And selfishly I hope that scares you” that knife kept twisting.

“Gods don't feel fear” he lied. Gods felt fear. They were just better at hiding it.

“Well whatever you wanna call it I hope you feel it. I hope -and I’m gonna keep calling it fear- I hope you feel afraid for what that means for us”. How defeated you looked filled his head with memories he wanted to keep buried. It reminded him of when he found you on that rainy night. It reminded him of when you started leaving cracks on his mental fortress.

“Allow me to humor you for a bit” all the sarcasm and hostility slipped from his voice now. He had a question but he wasn't sure he wanted the answer. “Why would you not wanting to spend your last day with me scare me?”

You gave him an answer and if he could go back, he wouldn't have asked at all.

Ares knew that his kids wanted to bring honor to his name, and as demigods, it was kinda their job. With that being said, he still felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Grief.

Grief because your relationship was ending before it actually began. Hearing that you were intrigued by him before, and when you were claimed you read every story with him in it, only for all that excitement to be crushed… he wouldn't even wish this feeling on Athena, and on more days than not, he wanted to strangle her. It's a feeling you only wish on your worst enemies.

“... And I hope the idea of me calling you Ares instead of dad terrifies you…”.

It did. He never thought it would, but it did. Ares made many claims, like gods not dreaming or feeling fear but it was all false. Right now, he had a dream. A dream that this feeling would roll off him and he could go back to being how he was before. His fear was that that wouldn't be possible anymore. You cracked him. You broke his walls down but he was too late to welcome you in. He was too late to welcome any of his kids in.

Everytime he tried to blame Zeus for his stupid rule, or Poseidon for welcoming you in before he did, it never stuck. He could only do so much blaming before he had to wake up and realize he wasn't fully innocent. None of the gods were perfect but some tried a lot harder than others. Why didn't he do that instead of convincing himself he didn't care for his kids?

“... and if you hate me I am begging you to have mercy and leave me be. No visiting. I won’t come to see you when we do that little field trip either. I’ll stay at camp or I’ll go bother another god. Hermes is really nice. And if I break my end of the deal you can do whatever you want to me. Turn me into an ant, rearrange my fingers, throw me down a flight of stairs at full force, whatever”.

He didn't hate you. He understood that a little too late. All of his kids thought the same? He understood why, but fuck. He missed when he was just angry. He missed how he was before he stopped to check on you that night.

“You think, but you don't know anything” he managed to get out. Ares wasn't the type to cry, but his mind was going so fast and it was hard to slow it down. Each word that came out of your mouth twisted a knife inside of him more and more, and the injury was so severe, he could genuinely feel it.

“Then tell me what I don't know”.

Should he? Should he say anything? Should he tell you that he was sorry and he wanted to make things right, for not only you but for all of his children? Should he comfort you? Should he admit he was wrong? Should he go back to having a personal relationship with his children? Should he go back to fully mourning them when they passed?

No.

What good would it do? Would he end up like Hermes? Paralyzed with grief for a son that wasn't even dead yet? Would him changing even mean anything anymore? He tried to be better, then what? He didn't even know how. He'd string his children along, making them believe it'd be better, then he'd be reminded of their impending deaths or the fact that gods couldn't be too close without there being a problem. Then he'd stop. Then his kids would push away harder. Then he'd be Ares, donor to many but father to none.

“Sally's been waiting outside so…”

Wouldn't it be better this way? Let his favorite go and move on? Let the child that tore down his walls go and work on building them back up? Go back to being the Ares people expected?

“Yeah” he answered himself out loud. He let out a breath as he felt another twist inside him. “You want this?” he asked.

“No” you said instantly. That voice wobble again… he was so much happier when people were angry with him. Anger he could take and give out, but he couldn't remember the last time someone was disappointed in him and he couldn't remember the last time he broke someone down without trying. “No I don’t but this just seems like the best thing to do”. He didn’t argue with you even if he wanted to.

Your hand went to reach inside your pocket for money but then he spoke again “keep it”.

Money was the last thing on his mind.

“It’s no problem-”.

“Just keep it”.

You nodded.

It fell silent for a moment. He could've just left, but he stayed seated. Ares from a couple years ago would probably feel lively and free, but Ares today? He felt like something was crushing him and that was hard to do.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Another one?” he responded lifelessly. Pretending to be unaffected was exhausting, and he was beginning to feel the effects.

“It's not a favor if you don't wanna see me either”. He didn't respond. He didn't feel like lying anymore. “Can we do that thing mortals do? You know, when they hug and say they love each other before they go their own way? Or maybe just the ‘I love you’ part”.

He stared at you as he debated on what to do. One on hand he knew if he did as you asked, it'd be harder to let you go. On the other hand, a war was brewing and if you fell in battle, he knew he'd have forever to live with the regret of not hugging you.

So he stood up.

You stood up.

It's strange how something Ares hadn't done in years could feel so right. Like this was how it was always meant to be. Like he was always supposed to be the type of father that was so present, that his kids would hug him regularly.

He felt warm. He didn't know how else to describe it. He was just warm. Imagine it's a freezing cold day and you're walking home from school. You walk and walk, trying to ignore how numb your hands feel and the cold nipping at your nose. The cold is terrible, but you remember you left the heat on and that idea alone warms your body and keeps you moving. That's how he felt as he held you.

“I love you dad”. It was natural. He wished he heard it more often.

Go back to the scenario from before.

You get home, so excited about the heat, only to find out the heat is off. Maybe you turned it off and forgot. Maybe someone in your house did. Either way, it was off and the inside of your house is just as bad as outside. The cold feeling seems to get worse now that the warmth of hope is gone. That's how he felt when he said “I love you too”.

He meant it, but that warmth faded when reality hit. This was it. There would be no more talks like this. This was only the second time and your talks never went the best, but he still valued them. Maybe he was wrong to have favorites and maybe he was wrong to feel so hurt when he caused this but he was in agony anyway.

When the two of you pulled away and you left, the knife twisted one final time then cut straight through him. He watched as you left for a moment before he looked away and sat back down, the emptiness becoming loud.

You wanna know how to keep your sanity intact as a god?

Don't care about your children.

Don't care about anything.

Stay detached. Stay far away. Stay to yourself and a few other gods you can tolerate. Don't think about your children. Put your walls up and don't ever let them down.

Stay angry. Don't feel sorrow or sadness. You'll live forever and the chances of that grief getting better are slim. Stay angry because at least you'll look intimidating instead of weak. Let people make their assumptions.

Just. Don’t. Care.

But as Ares looked to the side, towards an empty booth with a window that perfectly showed you sobbing in Jackson's car, and your seemingly new family being there for you… he wasn't sure he could do that anymore.

Y’all I swear they will have a happy ending… just not right now. But before y’all beat my ass, y’all knew damn well this part had no chance of being happy. The happiness is coming! I swear! I think I got everyone on the taglist.

Taglist: @kyuupidwrites @chadmeeksmartinswifey @lebguardians @beansficreblogs @itzjustj-1000 @white-wolf-buckaroo @elsisenta @leathesimp @marshymallo

#percy jackson #percy series #percy jackson ares #pjo tv show #ares pjo #percy jackson angst #pjo angst #ares x reader #ares x child #ares angst #i never know what else to put #ares percy jackson

227 notes · View notes

simp4wom3n · 2 years ago

Text

The Quiet One Pt.I

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader

Requested: Yes/No ~ request @perfectartisanwerewolf

Summary: Ghost face's dramatic return causes many to point the finger at 'the loner' of Woodsboro High, Y/n, a horror loving, lonesome girl who appears to have an obsession with ghost face's first victim, Tara. ~ Word Count: 5.272k ~ Warnings: descriptions of being stabbed and blood, a lot of swearing

A/N: Hi!! first Tara fic and omg I fkn LOVED writing this although it got looooooong which is why i'm making this is 2 (maybe 3) part series. Hopefully you guys enjoy the first part and want more because, maybe its just me, but writing about horror is incredibly enjoyable. I love you all and enjoy <3

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4 ~ Pt5

"I dunno that y/n kid is weird. She seriously creeps me out." Amber spoke with a grimace, briefly glancing in your direction. Like every other day, you were sitting alone on your chosen bench, only a few metres away from the others, with nothing but the sound of your music playing softly through your headphones and the words of the book you had chosen to read accompanying you.

You used to try and be sociable, consistently putting yourself out there despite your introverted nature. You tried you really did. After many failed attempts and being met with nothing but resentment, you eventually just gave up, deciding that you were destined for solitude.

The only person who even acknowledged your existence these days was Tara Carpenter, the very girl you happened to have a massive crush on. Before you had shut yourself off from society, she was the one person who showed you any bit of kindness. You would often exchange small talk when walking between shared classes, or even on occasion try to sit with her at lunch, although that didn't last long - you learnt pretty quickly that her friends didn't enjoy your company.

Tara absolutely captivated you. It blew your mind that someone even looked at you without judgement, let alone have their eyes brighten at the sight of you. She was the one person who you felt safe around at school, the one person you knew wasn't just talking to you for a dare or some stupid prank. Perhaps that's why you fell for her as quickly as you did.

Whenever her eyes met yours, butterflies would erupt in your stomach and your heartbeat would increase tenfold. Whilst your time with her was very limited, every conversation you had, every laugh you shared, your feelings for the girl only grew.

Along with your cowardice, there was always something stopping you from telling Tara how you felt. Her 'best friend' Amber. You would have to be legally blind to not see that Amber hated you with her whole heart - you were clueless as to why though. Whenever you and Tara had been talking for 'too long', she would always swoop in and pull her away, leaving you once again alone.

It was one particular occasion that had changed you.

Pulling your headphones out of your bag on your way towards you bike, you were about to put them on before you heard a voice that instantly made your lips quirk into a smile. "Y/n hey wait up" Tara called after you, causing you to turn around and watch her run towards you. "Hi" you laughed as she finally reached you, slightly out of breath but with a warm smile nonetheless. "You seriously thought you could just go home for the holidays without saying goodbye?" she laughed in feign offence, causing you to chuckle awkwardly.

You hadn't necessarily been 'avoiding' her, you were just taking the easy route, knowing that if you kept talking to her, you were inevitably going to confess your feelings for her - something that you definitely wanted to avoid. She was the only friend you had. Sure, your heart longed for you two being more than friends, but to you, nothing was worth losing what you already had.

"Sorry..." you gave her a tight lipped smile as you fidgeted with your hands, all of a sudden feeling very awkward as your thoughts started getting the better of you. "No need to apologise" she smiled, "I just wanted to see you before you went home so... yeah... I'll see you next year I guess". She went to turn around and head back to her friends, but without realising it, before she could walk away, you had swiftly grabbed ahold of her arm.

Her questioning eyes met yours as she turned back towards you, your words caught in your throat as you try to comprehend what the fuck you were doing. "Sorry I... I just need to tell you something." 'Y/n stop it what the fuck are you doing', Your heart and your brain were at war with each other as you stared at Tara, who was patiently waiting for you to find your words.

"Ok... ok I'm just going to say it... Tara, I really, really li-" "Hey Tara! what the hell are you doing talking to this weirdo" Your face dropped as you caught a glimpse of who had interrupted you. Unsurprisingly, you watched as Amber walked past you and wrapped her arm around Tara shoulders.

You stood frozen. Your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you felt tears begin to well in your eyes. 'This cannot be fucking happening' is what was replaying in your mind as you turned away from the two girls, trying your best to hold back your cries. Tara remained silent, half annoyed at Amber for interrupting your conversation, but also confused as to what you were going to tell her.

She watched as you swiftly grabbed your things and unlocked your bike, obviously trying to get away from the situation as fast as you physically could. "Y/n wait-" she finally spoke before you cut her off, "See you next year Tara" she could hear a slight break in your voice as you hopped on your bike and quickly rode off.

You hadn't been the same since.

Ever since you returned for the new year, you had been avoiding Tara like the plague, knowing full well that if you talked to her she would ask you what you were going to say.

Your interactions diminished into short-lived glances. You were often so caught up in your own world that you wouldn't even notice Tara's presence anymore, despite her many attempts to interact with you. She was now left with only being able to watch you as you walk through the halls, and risk a quick glance to the back of the classroom where you now sat alone.

"Don't be mean, Tara seems to like her so she can't be that bad." Wes defends you, evidently having some sympathy. Amber looks back at him with eyebrows raised. "Yeah, and look where that got her." "Amber!" "Dude what the hell!". A myriad of complaints came from the group's mouthes at the comment. It had been less than a day since Tara had been attacked by the new ghost face, sending waves of fear throughout the small town and sparking the so-called blame game to erupt.

When the news of her attack broke, you felt numb. You blended further into the background as you did your best to ignore the news. You wanted to visit her, make sure she was ok, talk to her, but you knew that even if her friends weren't protecting her like hawks, you would never build up the courage to go.

"What?! Have you not seen the creepy stares she gives her? And from what I've heard, she's obsessed with horror movies... most likely including Stab" She wasn't wrong, you did love horror movies, it was even one of the things that bonded you and Tara together, but you were more into the classics, choosing to stay away from new franchises such as stab - not that they knew that because, well, why would they.

"She has a point" Chad answers after a moment of contemplation, earning him a slap on the arm from his girlfriend. "What?! I'm just saying it would make sense" he pauses as he looks around the group, everyone giving him either a neutral expression or nodding along. "She doesn't talk to anyone, instead she just watches them, she is nowhere to be found when anything happens, and I can guarantee you she doesn't have an alibi for when Tara was attacked... It make's total sense"

"Look, I just don't think we should point fingers just yet. Everyone is a suspect so we can't trust anyone" Wes argues, earning another glare from Amber who rolls her eyes and grunts, "Sure, but don't expect me to help you when she's slitting your throat", before walking off.

You lived alone, residing in a sad little trailer in a small trailer park on the outskirts of Woodsboro. Months ago, your parents had packed up all of their things and left to an undisclosed location, for an undisclosed amount of time, leaving you alone and without any income, struggling to stay afloat in an ocean of bills and debt. Despite this, you rather enjoyed your life alone and away from the busy-ish streets of the small town - not to mention that the eerie location added to your horror movie viewing experience.

The only thing that connected your little 'community' of four people to the centre of town, was your neighbour, Dewey. The oh-so famous ex-sheriff Dewey. As much as you admittedly hated the fact that people knew this place existed because of him, you truly did love the guy. He was like a father to you. To the best of his ability, he tried to fill in the massive void left in your life after your parent's disappearance.

He was basically the only person you actually talked to anymore.

Everyday after school, when you would ride your rusted bike down the secluded and winding streets that surrounded your home, your first stop was always his trailer. Most days he would be waiting expectedly on his doorstep, greeting you with a smile as you ranted to him about your day.

He even knew about Tara.

He was the only person holding you afloat, and for that, you would do absolutely anything for the man.

That being said, your bike screeched to a halt as you pulled into the trailer park, instantly noticing an unfamiliar car parked outside of his home. 'Odd' you thought to yourself as you hopped off your bike, letting it fall to the ground before taking small and almost hesitant steps towards his door.

As you reached Dewey's truck, you heard the door open as two strangers practically fell out of it. You immediately ducked behind the truck as the door slammed shut behind them, attempting to peer around the side of the vehicle to catch a glimpse of who they were.

"Jesus" the man starts, "Yeah, he's way more fun in the movies". Your brows furrowed at the statement. 'What the fuck is happening' was your immediate thought as you saw them head to their car. "Ok... So what's next?" "The friends". You stayed hidden as they hopped in their car and drove away, still incredibly confused about the whole situation.

No one ever came out here.

Waiting until the car disappeared down the road, you reappeared from behind the truck and began walking towards his door. Just as you were about to knock, the door swung open and you were met with an obviously somewhat distressed Dewey. He looks at you, surprised before he sighs and moves past you, heading for his truck.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or are you just gonna leave?" you call out to him, noticing the gun holstered on his hip as his steps didn't even falter as he walked hurriedly to the driver-side door. "Hello?!". Again no response. Deciding to run after him, you quickly jump off of his small porch and bolt towards his truck, managing to grab ahold of his door handle before he could reach it.

"Really? so we are ignoring each other now" He looks far from amused as he looks at you, a hint of fear in his eyes, causing your gaze to soften. "What going on?". He stays silent for a moment, contemplating whether or not to tell you. "It's about Tara." He starts, looking at you cautiously. "Her sister and her boyfriend came and asked for my help... with ghost face" "Ok... and your helping them? I thought you said you never wanted to go through that again" "Yeah well I don't, but I don't really have much of a choice" he finishes, pulling your hand off of the handle and opening the door.

You could see the mix of concern and fear in his eyes, whether it was for himself or for someone else you didn't know, but what you did know, was that if he was in danger, so were you - after all you basically depended on him.

"Well in that case... I'm coming with you" You stated firmly as you rounded the truck and quickly hopped into the passenger seat. "What! No you are not, get out and go back inside." "Not happening" you mumble as you fasten your seatbelt, choosing to ignore his words as you wait for him to start the car. "Y/n I swear to g-" "I said no!" You yelled, causing Dewey's eyes to widen slightly.

There was a moment of silence in the car when neither of you dared to speak. You sighed in relief when you finally heard him start the engine, fastening his own seatbelt. Just before he started backing out, he glanced at you, signalling that this was your last chance to get out.

You didn't budge.

As Dewey's truck groaned to a stop, you watched as Tara's sister and her boyfriend got out of their car and headed towards the door of a suburban home. You both stepped out of the truck before slamming the doors behind you, the noise of which caused their two heads to turn.

The sister looked at Dewey in a mix of confusion and relief as he spoke, "I have decided to temporarily assist you in your investigation". "Thank you" she replied, the ghost of a smile appearing on her face. Her eyes briefly shifted to you, stood behind Dewey as if he were a barricade, your face blank as you chewed on your lip in slight panic. She didn't question you though, she was just thankful that Dewey had offered to help, and if you were with him, she was all the more thankful.

As the four of you walked towards the door, you heard the boyfriend ask who you were, her reply being "I don't know". You understood their hesitation, I mean you were some random kid they had never met before who decided to tag along for a murder investigation so it wasn't necessarily 'normal'.

After the sister rang the door bell, you froze slightly as you watched Mindy answer the door. You suppose it was obvious that when Tara's sister said 'the friends' you should have caught on, but here you are looking like you had seen a ghost.

Sure, Mindy was always one of the nicer ones, or at least she had never openly threatened you or looked at you like you had committed some heinous crime, but that didn't make you any less terrified as to what was awaiting you inside the house you now knew belonged to the twins.

Hesitantly following the others, your head began to pound with the sound of your own heartbeat. As you entered the living room, you begged whatever was out there to let you disappear, turn into useless particles and drift away, because sat in front of you, was Tara's whole friend group.

The tension in the room sky-rocketed as all eyes landed on you. You felt like you were about to implode. Thankfully their resentful glares only lasted seconds before Tara's sister pulled their attention away from you, talking bout why she had brought everyone together.

Following Dewey, you reluctantly walked further into the room, slowly taking a seat next to him on the couch. With your hearing almost completely overcome by the sound of your own pounding heart, the words of Tara's sister, who you now know is called Sam, went in one ear and out the other.

You only blink back into reality when you hear Wes mention Dewey, "What about Deputy Dewey here? maybe he's the killer... no offence" "None taken, but what's my motive?" "You got stabbed a billion times, got dumped by your famous wife and crawled into a bottle. I think it's safe to say you're on the suspect list."

You don't think you had ever looked at someone so intensely, your eyes burning holes into his skull as he accused the only person you could ever trust. "That's bullshit" you couldn't help but call him out - sure his explanation made sense but it still pissed you off.

"Well what about you then". Your head whipped towards Amber's smug words, shock painting your features at her accusation. Your mouth hung open as she continued with a smirk. "I mean come on!" she laughs, "Your a horror fan right? So you love horror AND your a lonely freak who creepily stares at people for a hobby... Classic ghost face I'm telling you."

Speechless. You are absolutely speechless. Everyone's expected looks burn you as you attempt to find some kind of rebuttal, to say something. Anything. "I-I don't" "Where were you when Tara was attacked?" Amber interrupted.

You sucked in a harsh breath knowing you were home alone at the time, no one to back you up - not that anyone would've. "At home" you mumbled, Amber scoffing at you. "Alone I presume". You bit your tongue to stop yourself from cursing her out, eventually nodding hesitantly as your eyes began to burn with unshed tears.

"That's what I thought"

After the whole 'interrogation' process had left you on the verge of a breakdown, you had grown evermore attached to Dewey, following him around like a lost puppy. So, naturally, when the news of Wes' murder broke, you were right beside him as he approached the fresh crime scene.

It was safe to say that he was concerned about your insistence of sticking with him, that added pressure of keeping you safe weighing on him as he inevitably brought you into something that you should never have had to worry about.

You felt cowardly as you became Dewey's extra limb, following him around as if he was the only thing that could protect you - and the sad truth was that he was. You were his own personal fly on the wall, rather unfortunately overhearing his conversation that he had with Gale.

Your face was blank as you had remained zoned out ever since you had heard the details of Wes and his mother's murders, even the thought made you sick to your stomach. You didn't know much about ghost face and their history, but one thing was for sure.

This one was a fucking psycho.

You were broken from your gruesome thoughts when you heard rushed footsteps approach from behind you. Your eyes were quick to notice Sam's figure approaching, coming to a halt in front of Dewey and the deputy he was talking to, a panicked look covering her face.

"Who's at the hospital?"

Your heart sinks. Everyone’s eyes stare at the deputy, awaiting an answer that never came.

"Who's watching my sister?!"

Images of Tara being attacked whilst helpless and unprotected in her hospital bed flash through your mind, sending a paralysing shiver down your spine.

"I-I just heard about the sheriff" You hear Sam scoff in a mixture of disbelief and fear, turning around and running to her car. You muttered ‘Fuck’ before you quickly followed suit. For once Dewey was on your tail as you make a desperate dash towards Sam’s car, needing nothing more than to get there already.

You swing the car door open as you scramble into the back seat. Sam, still unsure as to who you are, gives you a puzzled glance before Dewey enters the passenger seat next to her. She just stares at him for a second, almost as if she’s in a daze, until Dewey snaps her out of it.

"What are you waiting for? Drive! Come on let's go!"

The drive to the hospital dragged on for what felt like hours. You had pushed Sam's call with ghost face back to a more-or-less distant thought, only tuning in when they mentioned Tara - the only thing you cared about.

The whole drive, you had been anxiously waiting on the edge of your seat, so as you finally parked outside the hospital, you rushed out the car door and ran towards the elevator.

Watching the floor levels tick by, the sound of Tara's whimpers echoing through the call filling your ears, you swallowed down your tears as you inhaled shakily, attempting to compose yourself for what you knew you were about to face.

As you approached Tara's floor, Dewey pulled his gun out of his holster and glanced back at you. "You ok kid?" he asked softly, his brows slightly creased as he noticed your seemingly panicked appearance. "I'm fine... let's just save Tara and get the hell out of here". Despite still being on the phone, Sam offered you a small, warm smile, clearly realising how much you must care for her sister.

"Or maybe I'm stalling for time, fuckhead"

The elevator dings and you watch as the doors begin to open. Through the growing crack you notice ghost face looming over Tara's helpless figure, your jaw immediately clenching at the sight. You flinch slightly as Dewey is quick to fire a shot at the masked figure. His aim clearly having deteriorated since he retired, he missed multiple shots as the figure dashed into a room for cover.

As ghost face disappeared into the room, you were quick to follow Dewey out of the elevator, immediately heading towards Tara. Just the sight of her tormented figure made you want to cry. Falling to the ground next to her, you were quick to cradle her head as you scanned her body for any new injuries.

Despite her bandaged hand having turned a bright shade of red, relief washed through you when you couldn't see any new wounds. If you thought the sound of her whimpers through a phone call was bad, this was utter torture. You attempted to compose yourself - although you would be lying if you said you weren't freaking the fuck out. Sam was quick to help Tara off the floor and towards the elevator as you comforted her the best you could.

"Tara... your ok... your ok come on" you whisper hurriedly, glancing over your shoulder to see Dewey helping Richie off the floor. You return your focus on getting Tara to the elevator, not noticing her glossy eyes looking at you dazed. "Y-Y/n... w-what are y-you d-doing here?" she brokenly asks, your eyes finally meeting hers.

You are unable to respond before you hear a large crash from behind you. The three of you quickly turn around, your face dropping in horror as you witness ghost face jumping towards Dewey. "Dewey no!" you scream as you let go of Tara and run towards him, the protests of the sisters falling on deaf ears.

Dewey's gun fires off a stray bullet as your hands grip onto ghost face's costume, successfully pulling them to the ground. You collapse next to the masked individual, only now realising you were completely unarmed and didn't really have a plan past this point.

'Oh fuck'

Your eyes widened in fear as ghost face jumps on top of you attempting to stab you in the chest as you push against them with all your strength. Dewey attempts to pull them off of you as you struggle to hold the approaching knife from impaling your chest. Not appreciating his attempts at heroics, Ghost face quickly elbowed Dewey in the face, causing him to collapse onto his back and his gun to fly out of his grip.

"No no no no" you whimper as the mask looks back at you, its rich black eyes staring through your soul. You wrestle in their grip as they wind their knife back before thrusting it into your torso. You scream as you feel your abdomen burn, the knife piercing your skin and lodging itself deep within your gut. Your shirt quickly turned a bright shade of red as the blood began to flow from your new wound.

You cry out in pain as the knife is viciously ripped out, your vision beginning to blur with tears as your body erupts in pain. You hear Tara screaming your name as the knife pierces your skin for a second time, your body simultaneously burning and freezing as you feel yourself slowly sinking into the floor.

And they keep stabbing you. Again, and again, and again.

Stab wounds litter your body as you continue to scream, each one becoming quieter as you quickly lose energy, the sound of blood gargling in the back of your throat now accompanying your helpless screams.

You could almost sense their smile from behind the mask. The anger behind each of their strokes increasing as they went to town on you, blood now beginning to slowly seep from the corner of your mouth.

Your energy was seeping from your body as fast as the blood that continued to pour from your eight stab wounds. You curl in on yourself as ghost face is finally tackled off of you, coughing violently as blood splatters into the pool of your own blood that had seeped across the floor.

You were barely conscious when you heard numerous shots ring out through the hallway, instantly waking you from your looming coma. Turning your head as far as you could in your dazed state, you saw Dewey rushing over to you with what appears to be an unconscious ghost face behind him.

"Y/n" he breathes, scanning your weak and bloodied figure. Sucking in a hesitant breath, he carefully picks you up, his hands already covered in your warm blood. You grunt in pain as you feel your wounds stretch and pull. Your head falls onto his shoulder, your entire body aching as he limps towards the elevator, passing a concerned Sam and Tara. Tara watches as your blood leaves a trail behind Dewey, already seeping through both of your clothes.

Even when on deaths door, the sound of Tara's sobs cause you to look in her direction, worry filling your glassy eyes. To your surprise she is already looking at you with a similar expression. You try your best to put a smile on your bloodied face, but at this point any kind of movement sends shocks of pain down your crippled frame.

You clench your eyes shut in pain as you feel Dewey put you down on the cold elevator floor- why was he putting you down?

"The head" he says as he stands back up. Fading in and out of consciousness, you struggle to comprehend what he is saying, looking at him through your drooping eyes. "What?", "You have to shoot'em in the head, or they always come back.". You watch as he slowly steps backwards out of the elevator. Your mouth falls open as it finally starts sinking in.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be fucking happening.

"Dewey! Who gives a fuck?!"

"I do"

"Dewey! No!" you let out a blood curdling scream, using all of your remaining energy to try and keep the door open, only for it to close in front of you. "No!" you screamed again, you voice shattering as you slam your fist continuously into the door. "No no Dewey come back! Come back please! I need you please!" you begged, knowing all eyes were on you but not caring how broken you looked.

"Please Dewey... please..." you cried, eventually collapsing of pure exhaustion, a metallic taste overtook your senses as your adrenaline finally ran out, the world around you turning black.

As the world falls in around you, you catch a glimpse of Tara's distraught expression watching you from behind Sam who attempts to keep you awake, inevitably failing.

Bright lights sting your tired eyes as you slowly blink away your exhaustion. 'What the fuck' is your first thought, your mind blank as to how you ended up in... a hospital? You try to sit up in an attempt to look around, stopped when you feel a sharp pain shoot through your torso, causing you to grimace.

You exhale shakily as you collapse back onto the bed. Hesitantly, you reach your shaking hand down to pull up your hospital gown, revealing what can only be described as 'a shit ton' of bandages. "What the..."

"No...", it hits you like a truck. "No... no no no, this can't be happening". The steady sound of your heart monitor starts to beep rapidly. You begin to panic as you breath erratically, trying to disconnect all the useless wires that were connected to you in an attempt to escape this all to realistic nightmare.

Apparently hearing your struggle, Sam walks into the room with a worried look on her face. "Hey! y/n calm down... calm down it's ok... it's ok." She rushes over to the bed and takes your hands in hers. You were a stuttering mess, your eyes unable to focus on anything in particular as you tried to wrestle out of the bed, her firm grip stopping you from going anywhere.

Eventually her gentle touch grounded you, her hands stroking yours gently as she looked at you sympathetically - a look you appreciated but knew couldn't be good. "Wheres Dewey?" Was the first thing that came out of your mouth once you had calmed down. You noticed how her posture slump slightly as her eyes fall to the ground - that can't be good.

"He's fine right? tell me he's ok... please" you brokenly begged her, tears rolling down your cheeks as you knuckles turned white from the strength in which you were gripping her hands. When she finally lifted her head back up, her eyes brimming with her own tears, a whole new wave of pain erupted through you.

"No no no no no!" you sobbed, Sam instantly pulling you into a tight embrace whilst remaining careful of your stitches. "He was all I had" you cried into her chest, her own heart breaking at your words.

She allowed you to cry into her chest as she gently stroked your hair. It had been a very long time since you had experienced such affection, not sharing a proper hug since before your parents had decided you were a lost cause. It was a feeling you missed.

Despite never wanting to leave her warm embrace, you eventually pulled back, wiping your nose as you sniffled away the remnants of your tears. You slumped back into your bed, feeling nothing but numbness overcome your body. Sam just sat there with you for a while, offering you whatever comfort she could whilst you let everything sink in.

You had nothing left. Absolutely nothing.

Just as that thought crossed your mind, you heard something approaching from the doorway, causing you to raise your head slowly, expecting a nurse or something to be coming to check on you. Instead, you watched as Richie rolled Tara in on a wheelchair, the injured girl flashing you a small smile.

If you hadn't been paralysed by your overbearing emotions you would've returned the gesture, instead your eyes looked back towards Sam whose lips similarly showed a small smile. "We're getting the fuck out of Woodsboro... wanna come?"

You looked back over towards Tara, her sweet features still offering you a warm smile. Your heart swelled as something inside you told you that it was her idea for you to accompany them. Your eyes welled with tears at the thought, finally offering her a wet smile, chuckling despite your tears as you nod enthusiastically.

"I would fucking love to"

Tag-list:@nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805 @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @simp4nat @natashadeservedmore @livingforwaddams @alexkolax @ssinfulprayers @wifeyjennaortega

#jenna ortega angst #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x fem reader #scream #scream 2022 #scream 6

2K notes · View notes

ilguna · 3 months ago

Text

☼ the great war pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; your relationship has been rocky with finnick lately, and each time you think you can let it go, it comes back full force. it isn’t until you’re injured on the way to storm the capitol, are you able to slow down and fix what’s wrong.

warnings; swearing, blood mention, ehh gore, weapon use, death/death mention, torture mention, emotional/mental abuse, cheating, use of derogatory names such as whore, slut, etc.

wc; 8.3k

notes; based off of the taylor swift song!!

part two.

Lately, you’ve spent a lot of your time reflecting on what could’ve been, instead of focusing on what is. It’s a process that you’re no stranger to. It’s a defense mechanism you turn to when you know a big storm is coming. And in this case, you’re facing two fronts, neither of which you actually want to look in the eye of.

There are a few events you’ve lived through that have permanently damaged the way you think and operate around problems. Which is why you like to hide in the past, hoping it’ll offer more comfort than the present, when it’s far from it. Your actions and life-changing decisions are usually made on a whim, done to inflict pain on another person after they hurt you.

Some of those times are obvious, starting when you volunteered for the Sixty-Eighth Hunger Games at seventeen, with absolutely no experience that would help you. It was done out of spite, hatred directed at your grandfather when he told you that you had no future working for District Four.

Your labor would have no real worth, because you’d be doing it for free beneath him. It was the ‘least you could do’ after he ‘rescued’ you from the group home, when he could’ve let you get lost in the system. He wanted you to work for him on the docks for the rest of your life, and you knew that if you agreed, you’d never get out.

So, you made a rash decision. When the Capitol escort asked for any volunteers following the original reaping, you jumped at the opportunity. You thought, ‘either I’ll die in the arena or I’ll come out a winner’. As long as you wouldn’t be working under that hateful man, you would accept your fate as it came.

To this day, you still call it one of your biggest mistakes. You’d been contemplating volunteering for weeks leading up to Reaping Day. Training had crossed your mind several times during that period, and you never got around to doing it. You got stuck on a fence, until your grandfather eventually pushed you to one side. You made the decision a couple weeks too late.

The Hunger Games went like they normally did, except nothing was in favor of Four that year. District Two had a distinct advantage from the beginning when it came to favoritism during the Tribute Parade, and for the longest time, you think their mentors were tipped off on what the arena would be, due to their costumes.

While they usually dress for masonry—that year they looked like they belonged in a dust storm. A prophecy of what was to come. They proceeded to get the highest scores, the best audience reaction, and a perfect position when they came out of the tubes. One of the tributes from Two, the boy or the girl, were destined to win.

The arena was a sandy desert, and they had placed the Cornucopia right smack in the middle of it. There were cacti, tumbleweeds and rocks, but almost no coverage from the sun as far as the eye could see. You were a fish on dry land, and you were supposed to die.

The only reason why you won was because of a fight you had with the girl from Two, the only other surviving tribute after the twentieth day. You had suffered through strong and unwavering record-breaking heat, and shivered your way through terrifying thunderstorms that drowned everything in sight and left low visibility. The Gamemakers were going to extremes during the end, desperate for a quick winner.

Xanthe had run across you while you were trying to cool down in the shade of a cactus, applying aloe vera to your worsening sunburns. Your skin hurt no matter what you did to get some relief. You wasted two bottles of freshly cold water, donated by a sponsor to pour it on tender skin. The aloe vera worked for so long before your skin was just slimy. And no matter how hard you begged, sunscreen seemed to be off the table due to expense, or banned from being sent completely.

She tried to sneak up on you from behind, but you were ready. You knew that she had been tracking for a while, it was just a matter of time before she finally came across you. She swung her sword, you dodged, and then tore her apart with your knife. For a girl that had spent most of her life training for this very moment, she was too slow.

And it cost her life.

It took about fifteen minutes before you immobilized her. There was no coming back from an injury that severe. Once she was on the ground, you gave her a quick death, and then collapsed beside her. With your knees pulled to your chest, hyperventilating because of how hot the air was, you listened to the announcement of your win.

The arena ruined the way you work entirely, especially after your district partner turned on you on the third day. During the fight, they claimed it was because you knew what you were doing, and it was scaring them. If they eliminated you, they’d be one step closer to the end.

It also taught you not to trust the people that surround you. The doctors that rescued you out of the arena had to strap you down because you were convinced they were going to kill you. When Finnick and Mags tried to gently guide you in the right direction with the interviews, you said that they were trying to control and silence you.

And when you got home, it worsened. You were repeatedly told that you had to wait for your victor house to be ready, so you were instructed to stay with your grandfather in the meantime. He drove you crazy. Every single hour, almost on the exact same minute, he hounded you, claiming that you owed him part of your winnings. And if you didn’t pay, he would never leave you alone.

Between him and the Capitol cameras following you everywhere in District Four, you broke. Your complacency went out the window, as you threatened to turn your grandfather into a forgotten memory and told the paparazzi that you’d bring them to the wrong side of town if they didn’t get lost.

No one took you seriously, of course. It wasn’t until you were in the middle of strangling your grandfather, did the district have to step in. Finnick was instructed to be on your elbow, no matter where you went, because you didn’t seem to mind him. He kept everyone at a distance, and ensured that you moved into your victor house five weeks before it was due to be ready.

By the time the Victory Tour came around, you’d begun to settle down. You cut contact with your grandfather permanently, and the mayor had him removed from your victor benefits, leaving him penniless. You begrudgingly went on tour, partially enjoyed the Capitol banquet, and then you were free.

Well, as free as you could be until the next Hunger Games came around in July, which is when another life-altering event took place. With you taking over for Mags, it opened new chances for President Snow. He let you have the first day, so the Tribute Parade went without a hitch, as you followed Finnick’s instructions while learning the usual protocol.

On the second day, the first training day for the tributes, you were pulled to the President’s Mansion, and told that you’d be joining the small group of victors that did his bidding. It was horrible news to receive, but you didn’t react that way, surprisingly. You took it and left.

The whole situation alone was enough to kick up a lot of past problems. Finnick was apologetic, of course, telling you that he knew it was a possibility, but he thought that he would hear it first, at the very least. You didn’t blame him, it’s not like he was the one that suggested it to Snow.

Either way, for the longest time, physical touch gave you the chills. It didn’t matter who accidentally brushed against you, or put a hand on your shoulder. The fact that you didn’t know their intentions was getting to you. You never would have guessed that half of those Capitol citizens had the heinous thoughts they did.

Well, there was one person you didn’t mind, and that was Finnick. He was a year older than you, going through the exact same thing. He taught you some trade secrets that he’d gotten from the other prostitutes, and told you to use it to your advantage. If you wanted money, jewels, clothes or expensive and exotic foods, then you should press for it, because they would give you anything you wanted.

It’s the only reason why Finnick has survived as long as he has in this industry. If he wasn’t getting what he wanted, he would’ve found a way out by now.

Three years after you won, you went through a rebellious phase, and you got a boyfriend. By then, Annie had already won, and failed to take the attention off of you, like you’d hoped. She wasn’t stable, at all. The Capitol refused to focus on her, which meant no cameras, a short Victory Tour, and then she was swept under the rug. She wasn’t even recommended to take over mentoring.

It drove you up the wall. You understood why they did what they did with her, but it wasn’t fair. You wanted her to be your relief, the key to your freedom, and you would’ve had it, too, if she was just a little stronger than she is.

When you first started dating your ex, Vaughn, it was perfect. He isn’t a victor, just one of the many district workers from the boats. He worked early morning shifts that ran into the evening some, but left his nights open so that he would have free time outside of work.

You met him one night by accident at the market. You were running an errand for Mags before it got late, because she was going to host breakfast for all the victors at her house to discuss the upcoming Quarter Quell the following morning. It was four years away, but she wanted everyone to be prepared for the worst. Anything could happen.

Vaughn had bumped into you as you were taking a step, almost knocking you over, if he hadn’t caught you first. He apologized profoundly, said that he hadn’t seen you next to him, and helped you straighten out your canvas bag with the goods inside.

You don’t remember exactly what sparked the conversation. You think he may have recognized you as a victor, asking why you were on this side of town. Everyone knows uptown goods are more expensive and only slightly better in quality, which is why you don’t mind going downtown to shop for groceries. Especially since you know the people better.

You two got to talking, surprisingly had a lot in common, and agreed to hang out in the near future. From there, you hit it off, and quickly became attached at the hip. You vaguely recall Finnick getting uptight about it, but if he had something to say, he swallowed it, because he never told you.

Now, looking back, it’s obvious that he didn’t want you to date Vaughn. You’re sure that’s one of his own many regrets. If he had just told you how he felt back then, you wouldn’t have been put through two years of hell that have ruined your brain chemistry.

Like you said, Vaughn was perfect. He knew you had victor responsibilities in the district and never held them against you. You’d usually take care of it in the morning, that way you could spend as much time with him as possible at night. And when the Hunger Games came around, he kissed you goodbye and wished you a good trip.

When you came home with no winner, he wasn’t there to greet you at the train station. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. You spent three days looking for him all over District Four. And it took you waiting at the docks during shift change for you to catch him.

He was livid.

Vaughn started screaming at you in front of everybody, causing feet to slow, as men and women stood conflicted on whether or not to intervene. While his voice became louder and his motions more aggressive, you never flinched. Your expression didn’t change from confusion, as he called you every name off the top of his head associated with infidelity.

He called you a cheater, a liar, an adulterer, a whore, a slut.

It wasn’t until he started advancing on you, face turned a deep shade of red, did you place a hand on his chest to keep him back. You told him if he stepped a foot closer he would regret it, because you’d teach him how you like to solve problems when they appear violent.

That got him to snap out of it. He finished what he was doing on the dock, several passersby asked if you were okay, and you brushed them off. Your threat to injure him wasn’t a joke, you were fully capable of doing so if there was a need to.

When he was done, you found a private street that was dead and dim. You told him that if he tries screaming at you, you’d walk and that’d be the end of it. So, he needed to explain to you why he was upset because you couldn’t understand the allegations. You were loyal. You are loyal.

You don’t know who did it, maybe one of the other victors in the village, or maybe it was speculation from someone in town, but he was informed that you had more than just mentoring duties in the Capitol. They didn’t use the word prostitute, they called you an escort. Which is almost the same thing, but it’s not exactly.

You were quiet for a while, trying to figure out who sabotaged you this way, and repeatedly drew up blanks. When you tried to tell him that you had no choice in the matter, and it was ordered by President Snow and you couldn’t just back down, he wouldn’t believe you. No matter how many times you explained it to him or if it was done in different ways, he thought it was bullshit.

Even after you told him that you weren’t the only victor put in this position, he was insistent that you were cheating. The fact that you didn’t tell him of your duties beforehand solidified it in his mind. As long as you were a prostitute, you’d be cheating on him, and he wouldn’t see it any other way.

He wouldn’t hear you out, so solving the problem wasn’t even an option. You were forced to let it go, assuming this would be the last you’d hear about it, and it’d be brought up again in a year when the Hunger Games came around again.

It’s clear it affected your relationship. For a while, he was distant and quiet, and he wouldn’t engage with you if you were in the mood. He stopped spending as much time with you after work, it didn’t matter if you had made plans, he’d bail and apologize later on. Although, none of them seemed sincere.

The more time grew on, you were sure that you’d be breaking up. When you tried to get him to talk out his feelings, he brushed you off and told you that he was busy. By November, you were getting ready to tell him you’d rather be single than be waiting on him everyday.

He changed one weekend, and the two of you went back to normal. Vaughn went right back to hanging out with you, treating you to dinner, spending the night at your house. It was like the past four months didn’t happen at all. It was weird, and you were hurt by it, but chose peace over answers.

Which wouldn’t matter in the end, anyway. The Victory Tour came around for the most recent victor in January, and conversations came back full-force. He wanted to have a discussion about everything that happens in the Capitol, and got increasingly upset by the details. You were trying to be honest, and all it did was make things worse.

And then he scared you. Vaughn took a deep breath, the red in his face slowly diminishing as he told you it was okay. He’d already spent time making it even between you two, and he’d do it again next year when you went to the Capitol. He said that he’d repeat the process as many times as necessary until President Snow changed his mind.

In the three weeks you were away, he met a girl and slept with her. And then he proceeded to have a relationship with her for the next four months. He was moody and distant because he was ‘managing’ two girls at once, and he couldn’t handle it. When he came back to you in November, it was because he’d finally broken it off with her, believing that he’d made things right.

You didn’t know how to react to that information. You’re pretty sure you lost a little bit of yourself, going back on years of emotional progress. You couldn’t trust him anymore, and you made the mistake of telling him that. Vaughn promised you he’d do better, that he was all-in from then on, and he’d never touch another girl.

It seemed like it from the outside, and you even believed it. The truth is, for the next year and a half, he subtly tortured you. He didn’t do better, he was worse. Instead of cheating, he threatened to do it whenever you made him angry. He held the fact that he had no issue doing it at any time if he truly wanted to, and you wouldn’t be able to stop it. He dangled that girl above your head to keep you in place, and for some unknown reason, you let it work.

He made you miserable, but you didn’t want to leave him. You wanted it to work out with him. Besides, you were starting to see Capitol citizens back off when they realized that you had a district boyfriend. To them, you weren’t in pristine condition. You were dirty, you were being touched by someone that wasn’t like them.

You hoped that if you held on for a little longer, President Snow would retract the agreement, and everything would go back to normal with Vaughn. Before he found out that you’re a prostitute.

When you came back from the Capitol after the Seventy-Third Hunger Games, you found out that he’d begun cheating again. It was the final straw with him. You thought he didn’t mean what he said about doing it every year, especially when you had been in a good spot. He warned you, though. He told you exactly the type of person that he was going to be, it was your fault you didn’t want to take his word for it.

The good news is that you’ve learned from this experience. Unfortunately, you learned from it in the exact same way you did with everything else you’ve lived through.

You can’t trust the surface.

The breakup with Vaughn was messy and irritating. It took two weeks for him to finally understand you weren’t kidding when you said that you weren’t going to work it out with him. You didn’t want to put up with his bullshit. You were sick of feeling ashamed and upset all the time. You had to move on.

Of course, during the process of him accepting this, he never left you alone. It didn’t matter what time it was or what you were doing or where you were. He always found his way to you. You could’ve been in the middle of the district with Mags, you could’ve been at home with all the lights off or with Finnick in his house—he would come knocking on the door to talk to you.

It wasn’t to beg, either. It was to reason, which made the situation a hundred times worse. You might’ve entertained the idea of him apologizing and getting on his knees and telling you that he was stupid and he didn’t know what he was thinking. Instead, he fed you the exact same lines that he had before about getting even with someone else.

He was persistent. And it wasn’t until Vaughn showed up at Finnick’s house for the fifth time, demanding to see you, did Finnick snap and get the message through your ex-boyfriend’s skull. You didn’t want to be with him anymore because he was scum. You had better things to spend your time on, and he wasn’t on that list.

Finnick was a lot meaner when he explained this to Vaughn, cursing like a true resident of District Four would. You remember standing behind the door, watching Finnick lose his patience, his tanned skin turning a deeper shade of red with every passing minute.

Finnick had made you feel safe and seen.

Lately, it seems like you and Finnick can’t see eye to eye, anymore.

A lot has changed in regards to your relationship over the past year and a half. For a while, Finnick had been dating Annie when you’d been together with Vaughn. He broke up with her shortly after he stood up for you that night. And then for the longest time, the two of you were single, pouring your energy into the upcoming Seventy-Fourth Games.

Unfortunately, all effort was wasted, as it was a relatively short mentoring trip. The boy died during the bloodbath, and the girl was gone when Katniss Everdeen dropped the tracker jacker nest on the Career camp while they were sleeping. Your distractions were gone in the matter of a couple weeks, when you’d been hoping to have them for a little while longer.

Even worse, President Snow refused to allow you and Finnick to go home, despite how early your tributes had died. So, the idea of going back to District Four and rotting away in your house was out of the question. The only good news was that the clientele was slow, most likely enamored by the girl from Twelve that was defying the fate of those who came before her.

It left a lot of freetime, which you mainly spent on the couch with Finnick, watching the Games slowly roll on. There’s not much to do inside of the apartment, and it wasn’t like you could leave the Tribute Center, as much as you wish you could’ve. Snow had you on lockdown unless you were going to an appointment.

It was boring at times, but you never felt lonely. You and Finnick were close—best friends, even. Although, it seemed as if you perceived each other differently, because being locked in a place together sealed the nail on a coffin you didn’t know you were laying in.

Finnick decided that he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. However, he didn’t act on it until months later, during Katniss and Peeta’s Victory Tour, when he was sure that you’d had enough time to heal from the wounds that Vaughn inflicted. It was perfect timing, too, because you were beginning to think the same thing.

Now, almost a year into your relationship, you’re starting to doubt whether it was the right choice to say yes to him. Especially since there seems to be unresolved feelings on both of your sides.

“Jackson, set up a two-person, round-the-clock rotation on Peeta. I need to have a word with Soldier Everdeen.” Boggs suddenly barks, sliding his communication device back into his pocket. Judging by the look on his face, the conversation with President Coin must’ve gone in the wrong direction. Or he didn’t hear what he was hoping to hear.

If you had to guess, it’d likely be the fact that Peeta shouldn’t be here with Squad 451—also known as the Star Squad—because he tried to kill Katniss. A few short weeks back, he, Annie and Johanna had been rescued from the Tribute Center in the Capitol. Following the abrupt ending of the Quarter Quell, half of the victors that were left alive had been split between District Thirteen and the hands of the Capitol.

Luckily, you, Finnick, Katniss and Beetee had been rescued out of the arena. Those remaining were taken and tortured, and in some cases, not. For example, they let Enobaria go completely because of her affiliation with District Two. And they never bothered to lay a hand on Annie, much to Finnick’s relief.

In all honesty, it’s probably not a great idea that Peeta’s here, but not much can be done about it, now. What Coin says, goes. You found that out when she told you that she was assigning you to this mission. Haymitch informed you that she was tired of listening to you and Finnick squabble all the time.

You’re not sure how your arguments have been affecting her, considering that you have spent maybe an hour with her, out of the months you’ve been in Thirteen. At the time, you were just thankful you were being let out of the cement tomb.

Boggs and Katniss begin to walk away from the Squad, leaving you with Jackson, the second in command. She makes a list on paper, pairing people together in silence, before announcing it aloud. To no one’s surprise, you’re made to be with Finnick.

He wastes no time turning to you, “I wonder what made them decide on Peeta.”

“It’s not like they can send Johanna, she failed her final test.” You tell him, looking off at the train station. “I’m sure she’s feeling really useless right now, but they can use her elsewhere.”

“That’s not who I meant.” Finnick says, causing your face to twist.

You turn your head to look at him, finding his eyebrows pushed together. You squint at him, watching the distant look on his face grow. You clear your throat, “What? You think Annie would do better?”

He looks at you, the expression on his face fleeing, “This again? Really, (Y/n)? We’ve been fighting about this for weeks.”

“You’re the one that’s been talking about how worried you are about her state of mind. Of what she’ll do without you nearby.”

“I already explained to you what I meant, I thought we agreed to not bring it up again.”

You shake your head at him, “I didn’t agree to anything.”

“Well, I remember telling you that I wasn’t going to argue about it, because it seems like you just want to be upset by it.”

“I’m upset by a lot of things when it comes to you and her.”

“I know.” Finnick closes his eyes, sighing. “Can we please not talk about this right now?”

“Fine, if that’s what you want.”

“I want you to trust me.” He says, taking a step to walk away. “And for the record, I was talking about Haymitch, (Y/n).”

He leaves, heading for your shared tent. You cross your arms over your chest, looking at the ground, pushing the dirt around with the top of your shoe. When Jackson announces that she needs a couple volunteers to help Peeta set up his tent, you’re the only one that willingly agrees to it, wanting to keep your hands busy.

Leeg is ordered to help you. The two of you work together to shove the poles through the thin fabric, being careful not to puncture it. Peeta stands nearby, hands at his sides, watching you do this, expressionless. Behind him stands Messalla and Mitchell, guarding him.

It isn’t long before Katniss and Boggs return, both sporting the same unsatisfied look, meaning that conversation must’ve gone sour, too. Katniss’s face screws tightly, “What time is my watch?”

Jackson looks up from her paper, eyes narrowing into a squint as she stares at Katniss for a long second. “I didn’t put you in the rotation.”

“Why not?” Katniss asks.

“I’m not sure you could really shoot Peeta, if it came to it.”

Katniss raises her voice, “I wouldn’t be shooting Peeta. He’s gone. Johanna’s right. It’d be just like shooting another of the Capitol’s mutts.”

You can’t help the way your lips curl with disgust. You stomp the last stake into the dirt, securing the tent to the ground to keep the winds from blowing it away. Leeg gives you a nod before she goes to talk to Messalla and Mitchell.

“Well, that sort of comment isn’t recommending you either.” Jackson says back.

“Put her in the rotation.” Boggs tells her.

Jackson blinks, shaking her head. She writes on the paper. “Midnight to four. You’re on with me.”

The dinner whistle sounds, cutting off the conversation from proceeding any further. In silence, you all follow Boggs to the canteen. For the first minute of the walk, you’re by yourself, until Finnick shows up. Nothing is said between you two, but it’s clear the annoyance is still present.

One by one, you collect your dinner, which looks more appetizing than what you were eating in Thirteen. There, all food was calculated to give you the most amount of nutrients without feeding you too much. You can’t say that you were hungry after dinner, but the portions were disappointing.

The squad gathers together in a circle to eat, you sit on the ground with your legs crossed to make it easier to hold the tray. Finnick starts by standing beside you, picking at the food. Eventually he crouches down, offering you part of his tray.

“I’m good.” You murmur.

Finnick lets out a sigh, “(Y/n)...”

You abruptly get to your feet, not wanting to listen to a lecture. You take a few steps away, dropping the partially empty food tray into a bucket that’s already halfway filled with other squads’ trays.

While avoiding eye contact with Finnick, who’s gotten to his feet, you look at Boggs. “I’m turning in for the night.”

“Goodnight, (L/n).” Boggs nods.

You give him a smile that’s weak at best, and then turn to head to the tent that you share with Finnick. You flip the fabric open, step inside, and almost zip it completely shut behind you. And even though it’s late, and the pillow feels nice after a long day, you can’t force yourself to fall asleep.

In fact, you can’t sleep at all.

You spent the hours waiting for your shift to guard Peeta tossing from side to side, recycling the same thoughts you’ve had since you were sent on this mission; if dating Finnick is the best idea. Or rather, if Finnick is actually in love with you.

It seems like a ridiculous thought on the surface, but every time you go over what’s happened this past year, and compare it to what you already know about relationships, it becomes serious. The way Finnick acts reminds you of someone you try hard to forget.

You felt secure with Finnick in the beginning—for maybe the first couple of months—but as soon as the Quarter Quell was announced in the winter, it was like the center of his world shifted. Where you had just begun to hold the key to his heart, it was suddenly taken and regifted.

Finnick was worried about how Annie would react to the news and the possibility. He wanted to preserve her feelings and her mental health, so he began to work to get her on the same level as you and Mags, at the very least. Except, it was clear he had other expectations in mind, when he constantly brought up the idea of volunteering because she’s so fragile.

In the end, you let him win. When reaping day rolled around, you took one for the team and volunteered for Annie so that Mags wouldn’t have to. You cherished Mags far too much to let her go back, and you were hoping that Finnick would finally shut up about it.

There was no gratitude from Annie, there was barely any acknowledgement from Finnick. Due to this, the loathing started, but can you really be the one to blame for it? You did something selfless for someone that had started to pull away the person you’d just begun to call yours.

The Capitol praised you for your act, you were quickly overshadowed. You weren’t the only fan favorite victor that was coming back this year. Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria, Brutus, Beetee, Wiress, Finnick, Johanna, Chaff, Seeder, and Katniss and Peeta? Not to mention some of the lesser known but touched the hearts of the older Capitol citizens like Blight, Cecelia and Woof.

It was surreal, being thrown back into activities you hadn’t touched in years. You’d gotten so used to mentoring your tributes, that it wasn’t until you touched some of those weapons or life saving stations did you realize you were rusty. Or they had new protocols that could save a tribute faster than your old school techniques.

Either way, you knew you were in frigid water with Finnick during the interviews. You had poured your heart out, telling the citizens that you had found new meaning to life, and you were excited to see it through. You wanted the opportunity to grow old like Mags and have children like Cecelia. And you were hoping to do this with Finnick, under the assumption that he loved you the same way.

When it came to Finnick, he took his interview down a completely different path, destroying the idea of love you set up between you two. You were hoping if the tribute lineup had another set of lovers, they’d protest harder. He didn’t care for this. He went on to talk about the most important people in his life, where Annie was mentioned by name, and you were implied in there somewhere.

The seeds of doubt that were planted in the winter finally began to sprout in those three minutes. You were reminded of Vaughn, who took that girls’ feelings into consideration when he was cheating on you. You didn’t matter at all, because you were already in a relationship with him.

And there you were, going through the same process again.

The problem just continued to snowball, getting bigger by the day. The arena was fine for the most part, but as soon as you were rescued from the arena and brought to Thirteen, you never heard the end of it regarding Annie. It was the topic of every conversation you had with him.

How cruel it was that they took her from Four and brought her to the Tribute Center. They better not be torturing her because she can’t handle it. How could they use her as a weapon against him. What he would do if he ever got his hands on the doctors that touched her.

You were relieved when they finally sedated him and medically induced him into a coma because he was driving you crazy. Even Haymitch saw it, and while he tried to offer his own words of wisdom, it was useless in the situation that you’re in. You know that Snow took the people he loved, but you watched your ex-boyfriend take matters into his own hands to get back at you.

You repeatedly got cheated on, managed to get out of the relationship, only to get with Finnick to watch the same warning signs start.

He was worried sick when they sent the volunteers on the mission to retrieve the victors from the Capitol. He was restless waiting for them to land. He ran to her in the hospital.

And you watched from the corner of the room as they slammed into each other in an embrace that was not appropriate for exes. Between then and now, there have been dozens of fights you’ve had with Finnick over her and their uncomfortable friendship. He thinks that you’re exaggerating, and of course, you think that there’s something else going on there.

He won’t even hear you out anymore, acting like you enjoy having this fight every other day. The truth is that you’re tired of bringing the topic up and not seeing an ounce of change in his actions. It makes you question whether or not you’re making the right choice by staying with him.

It would be so much easier to let go than to continue to waste your breath.

Finnick must decide that it would be better if he slept outside tonight, because he never comes inside to join you. You feel a little guilty for this, but only because he only has the fire outside to keep him warm. He’s a grown man though, so he can make his own choices.

“These last couple of years must have been exhausting for you. Trying to decide whether to kill me or not. Back and forth. Back and forth.” Peeta says, breaking the recent silence.

You’ve been listening to one of the soldiers cry since you decided to go to bed. If you had to guess, you think it’s Leeg. She just lost her twin sister yesterday or the day before, and Peeta has been sent as her replacement. It was a mislabeled pod that sent out blades instead of insects. The good news is she died quickly.

“I never wanted to kill you. Except when I thought you were helping the Careers kill me. After that, I always thought of you as… an ally.” Katniss responds.

“Ally.” Peeta says the word slowly, like it’s foreign on his tongue. “Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancee. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I’ll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out.” He spits. “The problem is, I can’t tell what’s real anymore, and what’s made up.”

Some heavy breaths have been taken in the surrounding tents, as they accidentally disrupt those who have managed to fall asleep.

“Then you should ask, Peeta.” Finnick’s voice is nearby, practically outside of your tent. “That’s what Annie does.”

“That’s what Annie does.” You mock quietly, which is most definitely heard by him, because you can see the way his head turns to the side briefly, before focusing back on the fire in the center of camp.

“Ask who?” Peeta says. “Who can I trust?”

“Well, us for starters. We’re your squad.” Jackson tells him.

“You’re my guards.” Peeta points out.

“That, too.” She agrees. “But you saved a lot of lives in Thirteen. It’s not the kind of thing we forget.”

A silence follows as he digests this. You roll over in your sleeping bag so that your back is facing the light from the fire. You close your eyes, feeling your eyebrows push together as the annoyance washes over your body at the mention of Annie coming from Finnick’s mouth.

You just want to be done with this.

The following day is agonizing to get through without picking a fight in everything that Finnick does. It’s partially caused by the fact you didn’t sleep much. You were able to doze off sometime after Katniss and Peeta’s conversation came to an end, but awoke shortly after from a nightmare you had regarding Annie and Finnick.

With it being time for you and Finnick to take over for Katniss and Jackson, there was no time to fall back asleep. You spent four hours staring into the flames, brushing off Finnick every time he tried to get you to talk to him. At eight, Boggs woke everyone up for breakfast, and you were released from your duty of guarding Peeta.

Still, there was no time to sleep as Gale, Finnick, Katniss and you were swept away by the camera crew to shoot the glass windows of buildings for their clips. It didn’t last long, you were out there just past eleven. By the time you came back to camp, the soldiers from Thirteen were sitting with Peeta, playing a game called “Real or Not Real” where Peeta would ask a question and they’d have to answer whether or not it happened.

This went on for a while, until Jackson broke everyone up into a different watch, splitting you from Finnick. She does this so that Peeta has access to a soldier and someone that knows him relatively personally. You get paired with Messalla, who is thankfully more talkative than you are, because you can feel yourself shutting down more by the hour.

Unfortunately, you get stuck in your head for the rest of the day, lips almost completely sealed. If you pretend you’re not bothered by how close Annie and Finnick are, it’ll eventually become true, right? If you don’t let conversation about Annie get to you, then you won’t get fired up enough to get in a fight with Finnick. You two will be okay.

However, the only downfall of pretending was that every time Peeta had a question about District Four or what happened with Annie, you quickly deflected it, forcing Finnick to answer it. Which only continued to rub you the wrong way, despite the fact you had to remind yourself that it’s your fault.

It’s spineless, but it’s better than having an argument. It was clear in your actions that you were angry or at the very least upset, yet you never verbalized it. You let Finnick’s mood dampen until he could hardly stand to be around you except for dinner. And even though you sat side by side outside the tent, and it was pretty obvious you had something to say to him—you never did.

This time, you want to take another approach. All those arguments have brought you nowhere, and you’re tired of going in circles. If you try to talk about this with Finnick again, he’ll get defensive, you’ll get angry, and once again, you’ll be back where you came from.

So, you’ll just shut up and be quiet.

The next afternoon, Boggs informs the whole squad that you’re all needed to stage a propo a few miles out. Peeta claims that it’s because Coin and Plutarch are unhappy with the footage, and he’s right. It’s no one’s fault except for Thirteen, though, for practically wrapping everyone in bubble wrap.

You’re not actually on a mission, you’re behind the front lines. You move camp every couple days to be close, but you’re never in real danger. Except for when pods are mislabeled and accidents happen, like with the Leeg twin.

Nothing changes today, though. On the way to the area to film, Boggs tells everyone the block they specially set aside for you to play with is relatively out of danger. There’s even a couple of active pods they left behind for you to trigger. One of them should spray gunfire, and the other releases a net to trap the invader.

The group of you are made to suit up in heavy armor just for precaution’s sake, including the camera crew. Cressida talks to Boggs about how she’s planning on using more smoke bombs and adding gunfire as a sound effect to please those in Thirteen. Each person is given a gun, or allowed to take their specialty weapon, including Peeta. Boggs makes sure to tell him that his gun is loaded with blanks.

Peeta shrugs. “I’m not much of a shot anyway.” He says, and then spends most of the journey in silence. Katniss and Jackson seem to keep a close eye on him, afraid that he’ll fly off the handles. At the halfway point, he finally speaks with irritation. “You’re an Avox, aren’t you?”

You glance over your shoulder to see that he’s talking to Pollux, face screwed tightly. “I can tell by the way you swallow. There were two Avoxes with me in prison. Darius and Lavinia, but the guards mostly called them the redheads. They’d been our servants in the Training Center, so they arrested them, too. I watched them being tortured to death. She was lucky. They used too much voltage and her heart stopped right off. It took days to finish him off. Beating, cutting off parts. They kept asking him questions, but he couldn’t speak, he just made these horrible animal sounds. They didn’t want information, you know? They wanted me to see it.”

When he’s finished speaking, he looks around and notices that everyone has stopped walking, staring at him. No one knows what to say, he asks, “Real or not real?” Silence. This upsets him more. “Real or not real?!”

“Real,” Boggs says slowly. “At least, to the best of my knowledge… real.”

Peeta’s shoulders fall. “I thought so. There was nothing… shiny about it.” He sighs, wandering away from the group, talking to himself.

It’s quiet for a while while this information is settled in your mind. Only the sound of glass crunching beneath your boots fills the still air. Until Finnick clears his throat slightly, looking over at you.

“They must’ve done the same thing to Johanna.”

You hum, giving him a quick shrug. You wouldn’t say that. What they did to Johanna was completely different because Peeta and her are far from similar. Johanna has no one she loves, and she lacks the same compassion that Peeta has. She’s strong mentally, which is why they waterboarded and electrocuted her. It’s why they shaved her head to take away her individuality.

With Peeta, he cares more deeply about the people around him. He has a driving character. It was more meaningful to show him people that were familiar and to take away the ability to help them. Peeta’s the type of person to save others first, sometimes over himself. And he’s very memory-reliant, he likes to reminisce, which is why they made it hard for him to do without getting confused.

“Don’t you think?” Finnick asks, once he realizes you’re not going to respond without being prompted.

“No.”

“No?” His face twists.

“They’re different people. It’s clear the Capitol took different approaches.”

Two different people. You and Annie. You and Finnick.

“What about Annie? Do you think they—”

You sigh through your nose. “They didn’t have to do anything to Annie because being in the Capitol was torture enough. She can hardly leave the house without having a meltdown—something that you coddled. Snow didn’t have to lift a finger. You know this.” You snap.

Finnick doesn’t speak for a couple minutes. “That was unfair of you to say that about her.”

You roll your eyes and turn your head away from him. Maybe if you’d stop speaking to me about her, you think bitterly. Every conversation you have, she’s brought up. The doctors at Thirteen have told you two that she’s fine, and the memories she’s recounting are from when she was rescued out of the arena. Which was five years ago.

They know this because the technology she’s recalling has been discarded. They use different machines now. And the medical team they used then have since retired, because there’s a strict contract on how long they can work for. Finnick doesn’t want to believe this, he just wants to listen to Annie because she’s the victim.

You’re not blaming her for being traumatized, you’re blaming him for enabling it. Again.

The air is tense, but you’re right around the corner from the residential building the prop will be taking place in front of. Boggs pulls out the Holo to show you a projection of the street. The gunfire pod is about a third of the way down the street, above an apartment awning. Bullets should be enough to trigger it.

When it comes to the net pod, it’s at the far end, almost around the next corner. This makes several people perk up, everyone volunteers to set off the pod, except for Peeta, who doesn’t seem to be interested. Katniss gets skipped, and she’s sent to Messalla to fix some blemishes on her face.

Boggs takes this time to direct everyone, Cressida sets up Castor and Pollux to capture the perfect angle. Messalla throws a couple of smoke charges to set the scene, with Cressida calling, “Action!”

Together, you walk down the purposely hazy street, which vaguely reminds you of the Block back in Thirteen. You blow out a couple of windows as you were told, but Gale has been assigned the real target. When he hits his designated pod, everyone ducks for cover. You settle for crouching behind a pale green wall with white florals painted on.

A hail of bullets sweeps back and forth. As soon as it’s finished, Boggs orders you forward. Before anyone can move, Cressida declares she needs close-up shots, meaning you’re forced to reenact your reactions one-by-one. Thankfully, your position was fairly captured, so she excuses you, but tells you not to move a muscle.

The others have to fall to the ground, dive into alcoves and grit their teeth. Katniss presses her lips together in discontent, yet she participates anyway. The good news is that there is one terrible actor in the squad, and that happens to be Mitchell. Castor plays back the new footage of Mitchell grinding his teeth and flaring his nostrils.

It turns mostly everyone into a giggling mess. Even Boggs, who firmly orders, “Pull it together, Four-Five-One.” Only to turn away and smile to himself.

You watch as he pulls out the Holo, checking the location of the next pod to be safe. He lifts the device in the air to get a better look at the projection. He takes a step back on the orange paving stones.

An explosion splits through the air.

132 notes · View notes

waffledforbreakfast · 3 months ago

Text

First Date- [MUTI! BLLK X F!READER]

(SEPARATE) pt3

Staring: Otoya, Karasu, Reo

pt1: Rin, Sae, Kaiser

pt2: niko, kaiser, ness

[ BLLK Scenario Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc, bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, cringe, scuff, etc.

>Otoya

[Mall outing]

You stared at the time on your phone, it read 11:59pm. You two were supposed to meet up 29 minutes ago.

You sighed and shook your head, you couldn’t say you were surprised, but still. You assumed Otoya had some human decency in him. So you told yourself you’d wait 30 minutes. If he still didn’t show, then maybe you’d give Karasu a call and see if he was busy…

You looked back at your phone, 11:59 turning into 12:00.

You mentally facepalmed for ever thinking Otoya would actually show and got ready to leave.

Just then, you heard you name getting screamed across the mall from behind you

“[Y/N]!” Otoya collapsed on to your back, trying to catch his breath, “Sorry I’m-... A bit late-”

You gave him a judgmental look while pushing him lightly off you “A bit?? Where were you!? I waited for 30 minutes!!”

“Yea about that..” he laughed awkwardly while brushing himself off “I forgot…”

You glared at him, slightly pissed. “Why did I ever agree to this…” you rubbed your temples “Should’ve gone out with Karasu instead..” you mumbled the last part before composing yourself

“So- wanna grab some food? I’m kinda hungry…” he asked you while eyeing another women. What a great start to your first date.

You calmed yourself before agreeing, and the two of you made your way to the food court.

You were quite hungry as well, waiting for Otoya took much longer than you would’ve thought. So the two of you stood at the Churro stand while browsing the menu.

“Let me pay” Otoya offered with a smirk “As an apology for being late.”

You gave him a skeptical nod, “... You brought your wallet- right?”

His face froze for a second, before he started digging through his pockets.

Your eye twitched as you placed your order (and Otoya’s bc he always get the same thing) and pulled out your card to pay

But before you could tap, Otoya did instead, and the payment went through (surprisingly)

You gave him an amused smile as he gave a smug one (more to himself than you) seeming proud to have found his wallet

“Great job so far Eita.” He thought to himself, “10/10 date, I’m sure she’s in absolute amazement at my rizz.”

He took the Churros from the worker with a wink and handed you yours. Otoya smiled before taking a bite of his, “So, where’d you like to go?”

“Hm… there’s a new clothing shop nearby… how bout we check it out?”

Otoya nodded before following you closely, soon entering the store.

He helped you pick a few outfits out, and surprisingly, he knew exactly what you were comfortable in and what you looked good in. He even carried the bags for you after!

You two wandered around a bit more, stopping by whatever shops you felt like. He won a few claw machine games for you, and even hit on the cashier for a free donut(also for you-)!

As your date slowly came to an end, he made a short but proper apology for being late, and offered to walk you to the station.

Before you hopped on the train, you gave him a quick kiss and a wave, heading off

He’d never admit it, but he was blushing for the next 20min XD

>Karasu

[Seasonal Festival]

You looked at the map on your phone as you followed the path to your destination. He had invited you to the annual Lantern Rite, and you’ve never been before so you figured you should get there early/while it wasn’t entirely dark yet.

“Should be around here…” you mumbled, seeing that you're in the right area on the map- before bumping slightly into someone.

“Hey, thought you’d be here early.” Karasu laughed, seeing your surprised expression

“I- yea…” you were a bit flustered to be caught

Karasu laughed even more, and you just glared at him as he did so. “Sorry sorry- *wheeze* I’m fine now” he gave you a smile before reaching out his hand, “Here, let me hold your things for you.” he took the bag off your shoulders and carried it before intertwining your fingers with his, “You ready to go?”

He took you around the festival while commenting, “This year’s theme is Kites, have you flown one before?” He turn to look at you, still holding your hand

You thought for a second before responding, “When I was younger, yes. But it’s been a while.”

Karasu gave you a smug smirk, “Well, I’m basically a pro. Here, let’s try.”

He guided you to the dock selling kites before looking around. He was about to get one before realizing that it was the most popular. Then he worried about looking mediocre in front of you and decided against it, only to get it in the end because ‘it’s the best one there’.

He hoped that you didn’t see him argue with himself as he walked over to where you were looking. It was the child's section.

“Karasu look! This one’s a crow!” You showed him the kite you picked with a smile

He tried to keep in a laugh “Cute, I mean, if you like it.”

The boy paid before following you out to fly. The scenery was beautiful, kites everywhere, lanterns lighting up the festival, and the quiet chitter-chatter of the bystanders on the lower floors. And yet his eyes could only focus on you.

You unwrapped the string of your kite, standing at the edge of the wooden flooring while Karasu leaned on the edge of the railing, watching you with a smile.

As you finished setting up, you looked at him with an amused expression, “So, you gonna do yours too? Or just watch me?”

He was snapped out of his trance before turning his back against you to hide his red face and starting unwrapping his kite too

The two of you got ready to fly them, Karasu did a little countdown. “3, 2, 1!”

You both let go of your kites as you watched them soar, your’s immediately going higher than his. The two kites looked so pretty flying above the ocean water, you watched them in awe.

Karasu was a bit salty that yours was higher than his, but seeing the smile on your face made it worth it. Still, he thought he was a bit mediocre because he couldn’t show off to you.

The two of you made small talk as you watched the kites and he watched you also your kite

“You look really beautiful, you know?” Karasu suddenly blurted out, trying to keep his smile as calm as possible

You struggled to form a sentence for a second, but then whispered out a “Thank you” (his face was redder than yours LOL)

After you pulled your kite back in, the two of you set off to wander the festival a bit more. Karasu bought you some tanghulu and sparklers (those sticks you wave around?)

As the day came to an end, he offered to bring you home as it was dark out. The two of you walked hand in hand as he delivered you home.

“Thank you for joining me today, [Y/N].” he thanked you with a smile

“Of course, thank you for taking me out.” you gave him a quick kiss before heading inside your house “Safe trip home!”

He nodded before smiling to himself, internally freaking out over the small action. This Lantern Rite was his favourite, and probably will be for many years to come.

>Reo

[Art museum]

You entered the wide doors of the art exhibit, carefully surveying your surroundings, well aware that some of the “art” here cost more than your life (even if it’s just a canvas that looks like it’s been pissed on)

“My my, who knew that art could be so hot? Maybe I should pin you to a wall” you looked Reo up and down, jokingly flirting

He turned around and frowned, before rolling his eyes with an amused smile “Hello to you too. I was just looking at this actual piece of art.” He turned back around to an empty glass on display

“...” You looked at the piece, then back at him, “Is that an Ikea cup-”

“It’s art. Don’t think too much of it.” he took your hand and dragged you away “shh, the owner gave us-well, me- early entry tickets, that’s the whole reason why we’re here. And he’s literally watching us.” he whispered to you under his breath, bringing you to the next room.

You composed yourself and tried to act as sophisticated as Reo (though you wondered how he kept a straight face). There were a few people gathered around this piece, you wondered what could cause such an attraction. You were about to push your way through before Reo brought you around the few people instead.

Once you saw it, your eyes shot open and you tried to hold down a laugh. But that back-fired horribly and you started choking.

Reo hits you lightly on the back, not to help you stop choking, but to tell you to compose yourself. Though he himself was having a hard time not breaking down in front of the art and all the rich people staring at them

You cleared your throat, and stood up straight (A/N: YOU TOO READER- I SEE YOU AND YOUR SHRIMP POSTURE) “Ah yes, what a wonderful piece of… art.” you scrunch your face at the art in question on display

It was a simple stone carving, not having many surfaces, giving it a geometric look. The edges were smooth, clearly being cut carefully, the piece looking much like… a ‘rocket ship’.

“The rock must be… very hard” You gave a weak smile, trying not to laugh

This time Reo was the one to break, even if it were just for a second. He quickly stifled the laugh though, but you felt a bit of pride in getting him to break.

“Hey, this rock must get wet pretty often, huh?” you nudged Reo lightly.

You were speaking fairly quietly to only be heard by him, but someone else seemed to have heard you.

“Yes, you are quite right.” an older man approached you, “This is one of my best pieces, made from a special rock that comes from the sea. The natural wetness made it a wonderful material to work with!!” he gave a gleeful smile

“You don’t say? It looks beautiful, the shape is amazing, so much thought must’ve gone into it!” you doubled down and returned a smile, matching him in enthusiasm.

He nodded, very excited “Yes yes! Finally, a true art connoisseur! I’ll tell you what, I’ve carved a smaller version of this piece, it is available in the gift shop if you ask.” he quickly scribbled down a note and handed it to you “Just give them this and they’ll let you buy it” he gave you a quick wink before going back to assisting the other people there

You turned to Reo with a smile, and he was trying his hardest to keep a laugh in. His face turned slightly red from doing so. He let out a quiet wheeze followed by the quietest laugh. You covered your mouth and did the same, very amused at the recent interaction. It took Reo a good few minutes to recover, you had to drag him away from the room to not offend the artist.

You quickly walked past the other exhibits before reaching a small isolated locker area. Reo immediately lost it, he fell to his knees, laughing his ass off “OMG YOU DID NOT JUST DO THAT LMAOOOOO” his laughs echoed through the small corridor, soon followed by yours. The two of you couldn’t believe what just happened, you were impressed with your quick thinking. After the two of you had a good laugh, you helped him off the floor “Did you want to go back to look at the other exhibits?”

“Nah not really” he brushed himself off, “Did you want to go to the gift shop and pick up your carving?”

You grinned and made your way over to the store. Reo held the door open for you as you entered, looking around.

“Damn…” it quickly hit you that the things in here were all very expensive.

Reo walked up to the cashier with a small wave, he gestured for you to come over as well. You pulled out the slip of paper and handed it to the worker who read through it quickly and nodded before disappearing into the back.

“So, how much do you think it is?” Reo asked you while leaning on the counter

You shrugged “I dunno, like $200?” You’ve never gone to an art museum before and it showed

Reo gave you a questioning smile “Really? Just $200?”

“Fine, how much do you think it is!?”

“Like $50k+” Reo laughed, but he seemed serious

The worker came back out with the miniature carving, placing it carefully on the table. “That’ll be $52k” she smiled at him.

Reo smiled back before pulling out a cheque and filling it out quickly before slipping it to them

You, on the other hand, were flabbergasted. $52k for a rock?? You couldn’t even begin to comprehend that.

Reo took the bag from the worker and handed it to you, “Take good care of it okay?”

You held the item carefully, “Thank you, Reo… This is a lot tho-”

He waved it off “It’s nothing, really. Barely make a dent in my account.”

You gave him a hug and he laughed, “Is that all?”

You looked up at him questioningly. He pointed at his lips with a smirk

You rolled your eyes before leaning in and giving him a quick kiss. But before you could pull away, he held you by your waist and pulled you back in for another.

“Mm, much better.” he smiled, still not letting go of you “I’d say that was well worth $52k”

You pushed yourself off playfully, “Whatever you say, rich boy.”

Reo laughed, “Let’s get you home, love.”

A/N: d

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #headcannons #bllk headcanons #bllk scenarios #otoya eita #otoya x reader #karasu tabito #karasu x reader #reo mikage #reo x reader

77 notes · View notes

pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 4 months ago

Text

Sunflower Summer|Pt1

Felix x Plus Size Fem! Reader

He's home for the summer; but what does three months together mean for you and your best friend?

☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻

December

The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the streets of Sydney. Felix stepped out of the taxi, his heart swelling with nostalgia as he breathed in the familiar scent of eucalyptus and sea breeze. It had been too long since he last set foot in his hometown, and the excitement of being back for the summer was almost overwhelming.

"Welcome home, Felix," he whispered to himself, a grin spreading across his face.

He grabbed his bags and walked up to his family’s house, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin. Something he had missed desperately due to the amount of time he was indoors during tours and schedules.

He knocked on his door, even if he had a key to his family home. His mom opened the door with a happy squeal, quickly engulfing her only son. The rest of his family welcomed him with open arms, and the house buzzed with the excitement of his return. There were hugs, laughter, the exchange of the countless souvenirs he had bought his siblings and parents from all the tour destinations, and an endless stream of questions about his travels.

After catching up with his family, Felix excused himself to visit someone he had been eagerly looking forward to seeing again— you, his childhood neighbor and best friend. He walked the familiar path to your house, cutting through his backyard, memories flooding back with every step.

He almost felt like a kid again, retracing the steps of his childhood- literally and metaphorically.

As he approached your back door, he noticed you in your garden, talking to a guy he didn’t recognize. You seemed deep in conversation, and Felix hesitated for a moment before deciding to walk over.

You heard light footsteps padding and turned your head, a scream interrupting the sentence the man you were talking to was speaking.

“Felix! Oh my gosh, you’re back!” you exclaimed, your eyes lighting up as you saw him. You immediately set the mug you had in your hand down and rushed over to hug him, the guy you were talking to watching with a bemused expression.

You hit Felix with a thump, sending him stumbling back a few feet, and immediately kicked yourself mentally.

Why did I do that?

You pulled back slightly, embarrassment coloring your face. "Sorry Lix, I almost tackled you." You felt your face heat up even more at this because you knew you were capable of doing just that. Especially considering how much more you weighed than the frail boy.

“You're okay, Y/N. It’s so good to see you,” Felix murmured, returning your hug. He glanced at the guy, offering a polite nod. “Sorry to interrupt.” He said, pulling back, but not before petting your head lightly and ruffling your hair.

“Oh, no worries at all. I had meant to go over to your house later tonight and join you guys for dinner, but this was a much better surprise!" You exclaimed, beaming up at Felix.

The freckled boy couldn't explain the jump his heart made in that moment, your chubby cheeks looking all the more squishable wehn you smiled.

What...? What was that thought? Felix thought to himself, quickly recognizing it didn't hold the same feeling it did when thinking about it in other contexts. Like squishing a kids cheeks, or when Changbin told Felix that he wanted to squish the Aussie's cheeks. Or when Felix said the same thing to Jeongin.

It felt different when he thought that thought while looking at your face.

Weird. He dismissed.

"Felix, this is Liam. Liam, this is Felix, my childhood best friend,” you introduced them, your smile a bit forced. Felix could sense something was off but chose to ignore it for now.

“Nice to meet you, Liam,” Felix said, shaking his hand.

“Likewise,” Liam replied, though his tone was indifferent. Which was easily caught on by both of you.

An awkward silence followed, broken only when Liam checked his watch. “I should get going. I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he said, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before leaving. Felix saw your face turn pink.

"S-see y-you..." You squeaked, immediately going to cover your cheeks.

Felix watched him go, turning back to you with a raised eyebrow. “Who’s that?”

“Just a guy I met on Tinder last week,” you shrugged, trying to sound casual. “But enough about him. Tell me everything about your trip!”

Felix felt the urge to scold you for rushing into a relationship- especially with a man you had met the week prior, but he held in his criticisms and started to tell you all about his travels, gifting you the souvenirs he had purchased.

Felix and you spent the rest of the afternoon catching up, reminiscing about your childhood adventures. He found himself captivated by your stories and laughter.

He had missed a lot while he was gone, and he couldn't help but admit to himself that it pained him to have that knowledge.

He noticed subtle changes in you as well—you seemed more reserved, your smiles not reaching your eyes as they used to. It tugged at his heart, but he decided not to press you about it just yet.

As the evening approached, you and Felix ate dinner with his family. His mom catching her son up on even more adventures you had had alongside his sisters while he was away.

His family adored you and your family adored him. It made it really easy for him to fathom how such a wonderful friendship had bloomed. It helped that you lived next door as well.

After you guys ate, you walked to your favorite spot by the beach, watching the sun set over the horizon. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, reflected in the calm waters below.

“Do you remember the last time we were here?” Felix asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Of course,” you smiled softly. “We promised we’d come back here every year, but… life happened.” You sighed as you laid back in the sand.

“Yeah, it did,” Felix agreed, feeling a pang of guilt for not keeping that promise. “But I’m here now, and I plan to make the most of this summer.” He laid back as well, turning his face towards you.

“Me too,” you said, though there was a hint of sadness in your voice. “I’ve missed you, Felix.” Your eyes met with his and you could see the same sentiment mirrored in his own.

“I’ve missed you too, Y/N. More than you know,” Felix replied, his voice sincere.

You laid in silence, the waves lapping gently at the shore, each lost in your own thoughts.

When the time came to leave Felix offered to help you up. But as you reached for his hand you blushed, realizing your shirt had ridden up slightly- as did your shorts. So you waved your hand at his dismissively and adjusted yourself when he turned away.

Maybe its time to buy new clothes. You thought to yourself.

Despite you believing you did all this discreetly, Felix noticed your hesitation in certain interactions with him. And while he was aware of your hesitation, he was too dense to realize the reason why you were hesitant.

He wrote it off as you being nervous since you hadn't seen him in a while. And while he was aware you were holding back, he hoped that with time, you would open up to him again. Just like you had done as kids.

The next few days were filled with a whirlwind of activities. Felix and you spent nearly every waking moment together, falling back into the easy rhythm of your friendship. From early morning walks along the beach to late-night movie marathons, it felt like no time had passed at all. However, Felix couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in you.

One afternoon, you both decided to go shopping for Christmas decorations. Your families had decided it would be nice to spend the holiday together. And you and Felix were tasked with going to find the supplies needed.

The local mall was bustling with people, the festive spirit evident in the twinkling lights and cheerful holiday music.

It was odd to Felix, celebrating Christmas back home. He had been living in a place where Christmas was celebrated surrounded by glittering snow and a biting chill for so long that it was odd to see people shopping for presents and decorations in the hot season. And while he had been decorating the small dorm tree with winter related things, it felt nostalgic to see the surfboard ornaments and wreaths made in the shape of waves.

As you browsed through the aisles, Felix picked up a lone Santa hat he had found and placed it on your head, laughing at the sight.

"You look adorable," he said, snapping a quick photo on his phone.

You smiled, but there was a hint of self-consciousness in your eyes. As he turned to show you the picture.

It seemed to highlight every unflattering piece about you and that was all you could focus on.

You chuckled then replied, adjusting the hat awkwardly. "I don't really do adorable, though."

"Nonsense. You always look great," Felix said sincerely, looking at the picture with a smile before saving it to his favorites.

You gave a small smile, but the compliment seemed to make you more uncomfortable and brought up a feeling in your chest that hadn't been there in a long time.

A feeling that you had long wanted to push down.

Soon enough Christmas Eve arrived, and the festive spirit was in full swing. The air was filled with the sound of carols, the scent of barbecue and smoke, and the warmth of holiday cheer that rivaled the warmth of the sun outside. You and Felix spent the day preparing for the evening's festivities, baking cookies and his famous brownies and setting up last minute decorations.

As night fell, your family and friends gathered at your house for the annual Christmas party your family held. Felix's family arrivd first, and you couldn't help but smile in the overly summer coded outfit Felix was decked out in.

You laughed as you snapped a couple of pictures. "Mr. Louis Vuitton model huh?"

The living room was adorned with twinkling lights, and a beautifully decorated tree stood proudly in the corner. You had outdone yourself with the decorations, and Felix couldn't help but admire your handiwork.

"Everything looks amazing, Y/N," he said, giving you a warm smile.

"Thanks, Felix. I'm glad you're here to share it with me," you replied, feeling a flutter in your chest at his compliment. "It's been a long time since we've spent the holidays together."

The party was in full swing, with laughter and music filling the air. You mingled with guests, feeling more at ease than you had in a long time. Felix stayed by your side, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying yourself, but still mingled with the friends he hadn't seen in a long while.

Liam had arrived late, so you excused yourself from Felix's company to go talk with your boyfriend.

At one point, you found yourself standing under the makeshift mistletoe ( a pair of mini flip-flops) with Liam. He gave you a charming smile and leaned in for a kiss. You felt a pang of discomfort, but you didn't want to cause a scene, so you let him kiss you.

Unbeknownst to you, Felix watched from a distance, his heart sinking as he saw the forced smile on your face. And sinking even more as he saw you lean in for a second kiss.

A heat raged in his belly, a feeling he wasn't all that used to finding it's way to bubble up to the surface.

"Hey, Y/N, can we talk for a moment?" Felix said, gently pulling you aside after the kiss. Liam had gone to grab something to drink, and he thought it was the ample opportunity to talk to you.

"Sure, what's up?" you asked, grateful for the distraction.

Felix led you to a quieter corner of the room. "I couldn't help but notice that you seemed uncomfortable with Liam. Are you okay?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "You saw us?"

Felix nodded.

"It's… complicated, Felix. Liam's a...nice....guy...but I don't think he's right for me. I just… I don't know." Felix didn't like the way you hesitated.

He looked at you with concern. "You deserve someone who makes you feel special, Y/N. If Liam isn't that person, then you shouldn't force yourself to be with him."

You nodded, appreciating your best friend's honesty. "You're right. I guess I've just been trying to convince myself that I should be happy with him."

"You shouldn't settle for anything less than what you truly deserve," Felix said softly. "And you deserve the best."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt a rush of gratitude for his unwavering support. "You always know how to make me feel better."

"That's what best friends are for," he said with a grin, though his eyes held a depth of emotion that made your heart skip a beat.

As the evening continued, Felix noticed that Liam was getting increasingly possessive. He watched as Liam kept pulling you away from conversations and trying to monopolize your attention. Felix's concern grew, but he didn't want to interfere unless necessary.

He didn't like the way Liam's hands roamed over your body. He could see the discomfort in your face, but knew you were too meek to say anything.

At one point, you excused yourself to get some fresh air. Felix followed you outside, finding you standing on the porch, looking out at the starry sky.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" he asked, coming to stand beside you.

You sighed, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I just needed a break. Liam's been really intense tonight."

Felix frowned, his protective instincts kicking in. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. I just… I think I need to end things with him. It's not fair to either of us if I'm not fully into it."

Felix nodded, relieved that you were taking control of the situation. "I'm here for you, no matter what you decide."

You smiled at him, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. "Thank you, Felix."

Before you could say anything else, the door opened, and Liam stepped out. He looked between you and Felix, his expression darkening.

"What's going on here?" Liam demanded, his tone accusatory.

"We were just talking," you said calmly, though you felt a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach.

"Talking, huh? Seems like there's more to it than that," Liam snapped, his eyes narrowing at Felix.

Felix stepped forward, his voice steady. "Y/N and I are just friends, Liam. But if you have a problem with that, maybe you should take a step back and think about why you're acting this way."

Liam's face flushed with anger, and he took a step toward Felix. "You stay out of this. Y/N is my girlfriend, not yours."

Felix stood his ground, his eyes locked on Liam's. "If you cared about Y/N, you wouldn't be treating her like this. Making her uncomfortable." He stated, a little bite to his tone.

You felt a surge of panic as the tension escalated. "Both of you stop. Liam we need to talk."

Liam looked at you, his expression a mix of anger and confusion. "What do you mean?"

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "I think we need to break up. This isn't working, and it's not fair to either of us."

Liam's face fell, and for a moment, he looked genuinely hurt for a second. "I… I thought we had something special."

You shook your head, feeling a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry, Liam. You're a great guy, but I don't think we're right for each other. There is a difference of being lusted over... and loved. I feel like I stepped into things way too quickly, mistaking your infatuation for more that what it was."

You swallowed. This had been something you faced in all the previous times you had tried to be in a realtionship.

You were pretty enough to have someone want to make out with you, or try and sleep with you, but never enough for them to want to try and pursue something deeper. And things always ended really quickly, just furthering your belief in you being uncapable of love due to the shape and size of your body.

Liam stared at you for a long moment before finally nodding. "Fine. If that's what you want."

With that, he turned and walked back into the house, leaving you and Felix standing on the porch.

Felix placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, though tears welled up in your eyes. "Yeah, I think so. It was the right thing to do."

Felix pulled you into a hug, holding you close. "You're strong, Y/N. And I'm here for you, always."

You clung to him, feeling a sense of relief and sadness all at once. "Thank you, Felix. I don't know what I'd do without you."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. You tried to enjoy the party, but your mind kept drifting back to your conversation with Felix. His words echoed in your mind, and you couldn't shake the feeling that kept resurfacing. A feeling you had since you were young.

You had first developed a crush on Felix when you were seven and he was nine. And that crush only grew and grew until it became an irreversible, but hidden love.

As the night drew to a close, you found yourself standing by the Christmas tree, staring at the twinkling lights. Felix joined you, his presence comforting.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," you replied, glancing at him.

Felix looked at you with a gentle smile. "You did great tonight, Y/N. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," you said, feeling a warmth in your chest.

He reached out and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Let's make this summer unforgettable, okay?"

You smiled, feeling a sense of hope for the first time in a long time. "Okay. Unforgettable."

As you stood together by the Christmas tree, you couldn't help but feel that this summer was going to be the start of something beautiful. And with Felix by your side, you knew you could face anything that came your way.

Except maybe the feelings that were starting to come to a point where you didn't know if it was possible to continue to keep them hidden.

☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻

Pt2

☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻☀️🌻

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@kayleefriedchicken @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati

@seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt

@sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus

@softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener

@rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade

@y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez

@allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie

@yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay

@moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel

#skz stay #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz reactions #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #lee felix #skz felix #lee yongbok #stray kids yongbok

131 notes · View notes

delusionalmishka · 2 months ago

Text

Blue Blood pt.4

(pt1)(pt2)(pt3)

Summary: After the turmoil at Driftmark, King Viserys attempted to mend family divisions by arranging a marriage between Alicent's son, Aemond Targaryen, and Rhaenyra's daughter, Lucenya Velaryon; when King Viserys died and the Greens and the Blacks war began to unravel, the arrangement fell through. On the brink of war, Lucenya was sent to Storm's End as an envoy. Aemond didn’t plan on letting his bastard bride slip through his fingers one more time. She’d owned him for his left eye.

warnings for this chapter: none for now.

The day of Lucenya's presentation to Aegon's court had come too quickly. Her body was still frail, her bruises fading to a shade of light green and purples and there was a sharp pain in her right side, but she had to endure, it was Alicent’s command.

The maids dressed her in an emerald green velvet gown that clung to her slender frame, the deep color contrasting starkly with her pale skin. The gown's bodice was intricately embroidered with silver thread, tracing delicate patterns of vines and flowers. The sleeves were long and fitted, ending in graceful points at her wrists, while the skirt flowed down in soft, sweeping folds that brushed against the floor with each step.

Her hair, a rich dark brown hair had been carefully arranged into loose waves cascading down her back. Atop her head, she wore a Valyrian steel tiara that had belonged to her grandmother, Aemma. The tiara was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, its delicate filigree design adorned with small, sparkling gems that caught the light with every movement.

Lucenya glanced in the mirror, her reflection a painful reminder of her current situation. The gown was exquisite but symbolized everything she despised about her captivity, although the tiara she wore, as a token of her lineage and strength gave her a small measure of comfort.

Aemond was in the dressing room with her, as he always seemed to be, his presence a constant shadow. His single eye tracked her every movement, a mix of possessiveness and something she couldn't quite identify.

He was also dressed impeccably in rich fabrics and his long silver hair was braided. A sword hung from his belt, a constant reminder of his martial prowess and the threat he posed.

"It's time," Aemond said quietly, offering her his arm. She hesitated for a moment before taking it, feeling his strength and warmth through the fabric of his sleeve. His touch was steady, grounding her amid this nightmare.

As they slowly walked through the grand hall towards the Iron Throne room, respecting Lucy’s slow pace, Aemond's mind wandered. He imagined himself sitting on the Iron Throne, with Lucenya by his side as his queen. He pictured her in the same emerald green gown, her tiara gleaming as she looked down upon their united realm. The thought filled him with bitterness. If only he were the eldest son, he could have had all this without the need for bloodbath and betrayal.

They approached their destination, and the sound of bards and conversation from within made Lucenya's heart pound inside her chest. She hated the spectacle that was being made of her, a clear display of power to show that they had Rhaenyra's daughter.

As they entered the packed throne room, Lucenya's eyes immediately found Haelena, who sat quietly to the side, right next to Otto Hightower. There was a softness in Haelena's expression, a sympathy that Lucenya found herself grateful for. It was a small comfort in this, amid endless hostility.

The Iron Throne room was packed with nobles and supporters of Aegon, their presence suffocating as Aegon lounged on the Iron Throne, a smug smile playing on his lips. Alicent stood nearby, her face serene but her eyes sharp, dressed in green from head to toe. The courtiers whispered among themselves, the air filled with pity and curiosity. Lucenya's eyes scanned the room, desperate for a familiar face among the sea of enemies. The looks of other noblemen, hungry and curious, made her skin crawl. She tried to maintain her composure, but the pressure was immense.

Her eyes widened when she caught the eyes of no other than Allun Caswell. The bald and older man has been a fierce supporter of her mother’s cause, he and Lady Caswell even visited Dragonstone a couple of times. She quickly turned her gaze away but Lucy felt Caswell’s eyes on her.

Aemond's presence was stifling, Lucy knew his presence was there to keep her in check, his single eye always coming back to her. To Aemond, Lucenya was the prettiest lady in the room by far. Despite being a bastard, she carried herself with a regal grace that matched his own. In his eyes, she was royalty - she was even fluent in High Valiryan- and the thought filled him with a twisted sense of pride. She was officially his in the eyes of the court, and he relished the idea of having her by his side.

As they moved closer to the throne, Aegon's gaze settled on them, his amusement evident. "Welcome, Lucenya Velaryon," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "You honor us with your presence," Lucy noticed his slurred words.

Lucenya could not quite grasp the belief that Aegon would be a better ruler than her mother.

Lucy forced herself to meet his gaze, her chin held high despite the fear and anger boiling inside her. "Your Grace," she replied, her voice steady. "I am here under duress, not by choice."

Aegon's smile widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Nevertheless, you are here. And you look quite ravishing in green, niece. It suits you!"

Lucenya's grip on Aemond's arm tightened, but she kept her expression neutral. "I wear it as I must," she said coldly.

Alicent stepped forward. "You will find that duty often comes with sacrifice," she said. "Embrace the honor you have been given."

Lucenya's stomach churned with anger and helplessness. She wanted to lash out, to scream at them for their arrogance and cruelty. But she knew that now was not the time. She needed to bide her time. Aemond sensed her turmoil and squeezed her waist gently, a silent reminder of his presence and support. She glanced at him, seeing the conflict in his eye. There was a part of him that genuinely cared for her, despite the obvious distaste for her and her family.

It was a twisted, possessive kind of care, but he still cared.

The Iron Throne room had been transformed for the banquet, filled with the sound of music and the clinking of goblets. Tables were laden with an extravagant feast, the finest food, and endless supplies of wine and ale. The atmosphere was one of forced merriment, an attempt to celebrate the frail strength and unity of Aegon's rule. Lucy felt anything but festive.

Lucenya took her seat next to Aemond, who sat close. The wine flowed freely, and she welcomed it, downing several goblets to numb the discomfort of her injuries and the ache of her heart. Each sip dulled the pain, both physical and emotional, but it did little to quiet the storm of thoughts in her mind.

Across the room, Aegon reveled in the attention, his laughter loud and grating. Alicent sat beside him, her face a mask of composed satisfaction. Lucenya caught her eye briefly and saw the woman nodding her head at her.

She’s been behaving well.

Her eyes turned to Allun Caswell again, the older man’s eyes still on her and a glimpse of worry crossed his features when their eyes met.

{...}

The music played on, a lively tune that felt out of place in the oppressive atmosphere. Lucenya forced herself to smile and play the part of the compliant captive. She engaged in polite conversation with the nobles who approached her, their thinly veiled curiosity and disdain evident. Every so often, she glanced at Allun Caswell, who lingered at the edges of the room. His presence was a small comfort, a reminder that she wasn't entirely alone.

"Are you enjoying the feast?" Aemond's voice broke through her thoughts, his tone was rushed and gentle.

She turned to him, offering a strained smile. "It's... quite a spectacle," she replied, choosing her words carefully.

Aemond nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before shifting back to the room. "You look beautiful tonight," he said, his voice so low she almost didn't catch it.

"Thank you," she responded, her heart not in the compliment. "It's the dress your mother chose for me."

Aemond's expression darkened briefly, but he said nothing more. Instead, he reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. Lucy noticed how his hand was much bigger than hers, his skin covered in thin scars and roughness, years of training behind them. "Stay close to me tonight," he said, his voice firmer. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

Lucenya's thoughts raced. She knew his protection came at a cost, but for now, she needed to play along. "I appreciate that," she said softly, her eyes meeting his. "But why are you doing this? Why care so much?"

Aemond's jaw tightened, his gaze intense. "It's my duty as your future husband," he replied. "We've been promised to each other since we were children. I will uphold that promise."

Before she could respond, Aegon called for a toast, raising his goblet high. "To the future of our realm!" he declared, his eyes glittering with malice as he stared in Lucy’s direction. "May we crush our enemies and secure our legacy!"

The room erupted in cheers, the sound ringing in Lucenya's ears. She raised her goblet reluctantly, her heart heavy with the weight of her predicament. As she took another big sip, she caught Aegon's eye, his smile was chilling as he downed his own golden goblet. Lucy broke the eye contact, she did not have time to let Aegon get under her skin.

After the toast, the banquet continued, the revelry growing louder and more chaotic. Lucy leaned back in her chair, her head spinning from the wine. She glanced at Allun again, trying to convey her desperation with a look. He gave her a small nod and started to walk in their direction.

Her heart raced. Did he misunderstand her silent signals?

When Allun reached Lucenya, he extended a courteous hand, as was customary. With a practiced grace, he took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a respectful kiss. It was during this seemingly innocent gesture that Allun made his move. With a subtle shift of his fingers, he managed to slip a small, folded note into Lucenya’s hand, his touch light but deliberate.

The note was tiny and folded tightly. Lucy’s heart raced as she felt the paper’s weight in her hand. She quickly closed her fingers around it, ensuring it was hidden from view.

“It is a relief to see you in good health, Princess Lucenya.”

Aemond’s keen eyes were on them, his expression unreadable but alert. As Allun withdrew with a bow directed to the prince, his gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary, filled with a hint of concern that Lucenya hoped was genuine. Aemond’s irritation flared when he noticed the interaction, and he immediately moved to interject, his hand closing around Lucenya’s wrist with a possessive grip.

“What was that about?” Aemond’s voice was low and edged with frustration as he pulled Lucy’s attention away from Caswell. His eye was sharp, searching for any hint of deceit or hidden meaning.

Lucenya forced herself to maintain a calm facade, though her pulse quickened and her stomach churned. “Nothing of importance,” she replied, her voice steady despite the tension. “He was just being polite.”

Aemond’s scrutiny did not waver, but he chose not to press the matter further. Instead,he took another sip of how wine, but his hand did not left her wrist, his grip firm but not harsh. The conversation continued around them, but Lucy’s thoughts were consumed by the note clutched tightly in her hand.

{...}

As the banquet drew to a close, Lucy found herself feeling the effects of the wine she had consumed throughout the evening. The alcohol buzzed in her veins, dulling the sharp edges of her fear and anger but leaving her mind in a haze. She stumbled slightly as she rose from the table, and Aemond was immediately at her side, his arm steadying her.

“Careful,” he murmured, his tone softer than she expected and she felt heat rising to her cheeks when she caught a glimpse of his smirking lips. Aemond was overwhelming, his height and the aura of command he exuded making him seem larger than life. As much as Lucy hated herself for it, she had to admit her uncle had grown into a fine man, much taller than her and even taller than her brother Jace. It was a realization that hit her with a mix of emotions she couldn’t fully process in her inebriated state.

Aemond guided her through the winding and corridors of the Red Keep, his hand firm but gentle around her. She felt the warmth of his touch through the fabric of her dress, a sensation that confused her muddled thoughts. When they reached her chambers, he led her inside and carefully closed the door behind them.

Lucenya expected Aemond to call the maids to help her undress and get ready for bed, but she was not surprised when he started to work on the laces and ties of her dress himself. She stood still, feeling the wine's warmth in her veins and the buzz of the banquet still lingering in her mind.

Aemond’s fingers moved deftly, loosening the intricate bindings of her emerald green dress. His touch was firm yet unexpectedly gentle, and Lucenya couldn’t help but notice the careful way he handled her. The fabric slowly slid off her shoulders, leaving her on with the thin and see-through undertunic. Chills raised in her skin when she felt his cold fingers brush along her skin, his touch lingering. The was silence thick between then, the only thing heard in the room was the crackling of the fire.

“You should rest,” Aemond murmured as he continued his work, his voice low and soothing. He moved behind her, untangling the ribbons and curls of her hair with the same careful precision. She watched his reflection in the mirror, noting the intensity of his gaze, the way his single eye focused on the task at hand.

Her mind drifted as he worked, and she thought about the note Allun Caswell had slipped into her hand earlier in the evening. It was hidden beneath her pillow now, a small sliver of hope blooming in her chest.

Aemond’s hands lingered on her shoulders for a moment before he guided her to the bed, his expression softening as he looked at her. Lucenya’s thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and exhaustion, the alcohol in her system making it hard to think clearly.

She was surprised when he didn’t immediately leave. Instead, he hesitated, standing over her with a conflicted look in his eye. Then, without warning, he leaned down and held her face, his hand cupping her chin as strands of his silver hair tickled her skin. He pressed his lips to hers in a kiss.

Lucenya’s thoughts were swirling in her head, the strong wine she'd consumed blurred the lines between her desires and her will. For a moment, she let her wants speak louder and kissed him back. Her lips moved against his, responding to the unexpected tenderness. There was a part of her that craved the connection, the comfort, even if it was from him.

The kiss deepened, a swirl of conflicting emotions as Aemond's hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. The intensity of the moment made her heart race, and for a brief, intoxicating instant, she let herself get lost in it. The world outside their kiss faded away, leaving only the heat between them.

But as quickly as it began, it ended. Aemond pulled away, his breath warm against her skin. His gaze lingered on her face, his thumb brushing against her rose tinted cheeks. "I will see you in the morrow," he said quietly, turning to leave.

Lucy lay there, her mind a mess of regret and confusion as the door closed behind him with a soft click. The reality of what had just happened sank in, and she felt a pang of guilt and anger at herself. She had given in, even if just for a moment, and she knew it would only feed into Aemond's feelings of possession he had over her.

She touched her lips, still feeling the ghost of his kiss, and her resolve hardened. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down, no matter how desperate or lonely she felt.

Instead of wallowing in those feelings, she forced herself to take a deep breath. She had to stay focused. She searched the room, her eyes darting around until she found Allun's note tucked under her pillow.

Allun's note, hastily scribbled but clear, read:

Lady Lucenya,

Do not lose hope. There are those loyal to your mother even here. At midnight tomorrow, find a way to the servants' entrance near the kitchens. A small boat will be waiting for you. We must move quickly and quietly.

Stay strong.

— Allun Caswell

Holding it in her hands, she felt the tears well up in her eyes.

As she read the note again, tears spilled over. Allun's message gave her a glimmer of hope, a chance to escape and return to her family. She had to be strong, not just for herself but for her mother, her brother, and everyone who depended on her.

Lucenya tucked the note back under her pillow and wiped her tears away. She would have to be clever and resourceful to pull off the escape. The servants' entrance near the kitchens—it was her only chance. She had to find a way to slip past Aemond and the guards.

She lay back on her bed, her mind racing with plans and possibilities. The thought of freedom, of reuniting with her family, fueled her determination. She would not let Aemond trap her any longer. She had to escape, no matter the cost.

(AO3)

36 notes · View notes

stardust-poet · 3 months ago

Text

°•Percy Jackson Dating Hcs PT2•°

PT1

《☆》

Note: I was kicking my feet giggling when I got over 5 notes on the first part 😭 (I've never gotten a note before)

Warnings: none!

Enjoy!

《☆》

If you read the last one

You know he skates

If you know how to skate and he doesn't have to teach you

Yall are racing.

All.

The.

Time.

Dates, his house, your house, the park, the café

Any destination you guys are headed to

If you have your skate board and he has his

You guys are racing there

You know how people decorate and put stickers on the bottom of their skate board?

You guys have a date like that

You guys swap skate boards, and start painting on them sitting on the living room floor in his apartment

I don't think percy knows how to paint

Atleast not very well

He trys his best 🥺🥺

He paints you a little sun with swirls around it

(Or something related to your godly parent or your personality)

You'd paint these really pretty waves

You're not sure how you even did it

And when you turn the skateboard around to show him he just.

Melts.

I mean he's either giggling kicking his feet

Or sobbing smiling.

There is not an in between

He's confused a little like

You made this?????this masterpiece???????Just for him?????

You probably say smth like

'Really, percy? It's not THAT amazing.'

And he just kinda crying and giggling, complimenting it so much

Despite you being a worried parentTM and getting concerned after you see a few tears.

Like he went through so many battles,

Lost so many friends,

But it was worth it.

Just for this one peaceful moment with you.

It was worth it.

...

You do the same thing when he shows you what he painted.

Anyways

Beach dates

Me, personally, I hate the beach

Or any type of swimming thing.

But it would be so cute you two going on a beach date

He'd get a little concerned each time there was a wave that looked just a little too big

He knew how cruel the ocean could be

It was basically his father after all

Why wouldn't it take you away too?

But no.

You always stayed.

With your toes planted in the mucky sand, seaweed grazing your legs

You stayed.

(This definitely isn't about any trauma from percys past at all 😃)

But laying down towels just high enough where the tide couldn't reach it

Putting sun screen on one another

(If you aren't a fan of touch, he'll be asking you every second if you want to do it yourself or if you want him to stop for a minute.)

And you guys are obnoxious.

Old people definitely look at you guys and think about their younger years.

《☆》

That's all for now bc I'm really tired 🥲

Hope you enjoyed!!

#cleo.post #pjo #percy dating hcs #percy pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #headcanon #hoo #toa #percy series #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #y/n #x reader #x you #gn reader

27 notes · View notes

aliveinacoffin · 1 year ago

Note

REQUESTTTT The reader is a new teacher at UA and tries getting on all the teachers good side but aizawa is so good at keeping his emotions hidden she doesn’t know if he likes her. After the training camp incident they move into dorms and she lives with aizawa but they have seperate rooms to sleep in but everything else is shared. And during this time Aizawa “hating” her more as he always lectures her and gets mad at her so she’s convinced he practically hates her. She ends up hating him too cause he starts making her do more work. He ends up training her and she hates him even more since he wasn’t going easy and just gave her bruises or something. Then one day she was in the lounge room for their shared dorm area and she was doing something and aizawa helps her do it and BAM. she develops a crush and…. (Add ur own ending and twists because I know I’ll love it 💕💗) (also sorry this is long)

omg this seems so cute in a like, angry old man way if that makes sense LMAO, I hope you don't mind that I gave reader a quirk,,,,I felt it wouldn't make sense if she didn't

Hating You As Well

PT1(right here ^*^), PT2, PT3

You were honestly just trying to make some friends at work, but this one guy is just soo RRRR, how are you supposed to deal with that?

(i didn't want to make him too mean, but I didn't want to make him nice, obviously, so instead he's socially awkward and stand-offish and dumb, I hope that's not too far off from what you wanted ^-^)

Fem!Reader, She/Her pronouns

TW: slight, very slight angst i guess, arguing, semi depictions of violence and gore, stupid aizawa

UA.

It was the top hero school in all of Japan, and thanks to people like All Might, known in high regard nationally.

So, when you got your call back that you got accepted as the history teacher, you actually screamed. Literally jumping up and down, screaming and crying in pure, unfiltered happiness that you got the job. Of course, you opened your phone to tell someone, anyone, that you got your literal dream job, but you stopped. It's not that you didn't have anyone to tell, it's just that you didn't have anyone who wasn't your family to tell. For a second, it saddened you, but you didn't wallow in your sadness, no! Right then and there, you promised yourself that you'd befriend everyone you could at UA, even the terrifying principle.

So that's how you got here, holding the biggest plate filled with snacks from peanuts to cake while nervously walking into the conference room.

Principal Nedzu had given you a personal tour of the school after he called you, but you had personally never met the other staff members. You can't help but think your principal did that on purpose. After wandering for a short moment, you were still new so you deserved some slack, you found your destination. But something held you back, standing awkwardly in front of the door. You could hear the muffled voices and music coming from the room, its friendly aura spilling out from the hallway.

You were only a little nervous, years of being a high-ranking pro instilled a natural confidence in you, but the small thought of not making any friends slightly unnerved you. Well, better get on with it. You took a deep breath and opened the door, and while the music didn't stop, you felt like it did.

All eyes were on you in an instant, the chatter ceased and everyone turned to look at you.

After a pregnant pause, you spoke up first. "This...is the staff party, right?" Your voice came out squeaker than you wanted to, and the answer to your question seemed rather obvious.

"Yeah it is! You must be the newbie, right?" Present Mic was the first to speak up, his smile wide and infectious. Others giggled around them, all the attention on you was less negative and more positive, a newfound excitement in the air.

"Yes, I'm unfortunately the newbie. Can I set this down anywhere?" You lifted up your large platter of food, and the loud blonde practically drooled.

"I'll take that from you." He swiftly took the food out of your hands and started digging in while trying to find a place to set it down.

Midnight strolled up to you, a small smile on her face. "I'm Nemuri Kayama. Don't worry, you're not the only new staff member this year. Not only do we have All Might, but we have Toshinori Yagi too. Yagis kinda shy, he's just been kinda hanging out in the back." Kayama nodded her head to the far right corner, where the aforementioned man was just...standing alone, almost literally in the corner.

"Oh, well, that makes me feel a little better." You hid your guilty smile with your hands, not only were you glad that you weren't the only new staff member, but that you weren't the most awkward one in the room.

"Plus, it's great to have another girl on the team, it's a real sausage fest in here." She groaned, dramatically holding her head in her hand. Looking around, you realized she was right. There was a 1:9 female-to-male ratio. The male staff members greatly outnumbered the female to an embarrassing degree, but it made sense. Males unfairly dominated the hero field, and even if there was a strong female pro hero, more often than not, she was either treated as a joke or made to be crazy masculine. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but more often than not, it's not by choice, since to be taken seriously, they have to act meaner and tougher than originally wanted.

"I see what you mean, Jesus." There was a playful tone in your voice, showing no real contempt or malice.

"I'm the modern art history teacher, by the way, in case you didn't know." Kayama fully introduced herself, holding out her hand for you to shake. You gratefully took it, marveling at just how soft her hand was.

"Oh! I'll be the new history teacher, guess we're kind of twins. And I'm sorry to fangirl, but I really appreciate all your work." You gushed unashamed.

"Oh I don't mind, I also really appreciate your work! Your quirk is rather interesting, and the way you handle yourself out there is nothing to scoff at." Kayama smiled, giving you the same energy as you put out.

You blushed, compliments like that were not unusual but from one of your idols, no less? It was like a dream come true.

"Thank you, it just comes naturally, you know?" You tried to wave her off, basically saying it's nothing compared to you.

Your quirk was rather unconventional in what it was. You could manipulate the light around you, bending and manipulating the light waves and atoms. You could literally touch rays of light and bend it like a straw, plus you could take it away and 'store it' in your body. It was funny when you took too much because you became a living nightlight. Though to do it, you needed to be physically touching the rays, so you wore a rather lightweight suit with no gloves and no shoes. Hey, who needs to walk on water when you could walk on light?

Your suit was rather skimpy, maybe a reason that both you and Kayama attracted each other. You basically wore a swimsuit, with a crop top shirt that stopped at your shoulders, and basically boy short underwear for a bottom. However, you could barely see your 'pants' because of the pockets that lined the entire thing. Another cool thing you could do with your quirk is you could store the light in physical pockets that you had.

"Well, I'd only assume. I'm glad that someone like you is on the team, and I'm sure I'm not the only one." Kayama looked over your shoulder, and just as you were about to turn to where she was looking, strong arms almost tipped you over.

"Heya newbie!" A light and bubbly voice yelled in your ear, you could only wonder who it was. Peeking over, Present Mic was smiling in your face, spikey hair and sunglasses almost directly in your face. "I'm Hizashi Yamada, and I don't really care for formalities, so you can just call me Hizashi!" He pushed himself off of you and was pumping up his arms in the air. Hizashi still had some crumbs on his face, and you couldn't help but laugh at his outlandish introduction.

Soon after him, one by one each staff member introduced themselves formally, telling you their real names and what they teach. In turn, you gushed and fawned over each one, calm but bright energy attracting everyone to you. Like moths to a light. Heh, get it?

Still, it was great. Even the shy Yagi comes up to you to politely introduce himself, an unspoken bond formed because it was both your first year teaching.

All but one.

A grumpy sleeping bag resting below an open window pointedly ignored all the noise and commotion going on. Determined, you walked over and leaned over the yellow lump to see if a person was even in there.

"Yes?" A dark voice drawled, and in an anti-climatic movement, the sleeping back slowly turned over. You were greeted with the image of a man in his late 20s or early 30s, with dark wild hair and a patchy 5 o'clock shadow. You nearly jumped back, but you kept your composure. You leaned over with your hands on your hips, your stomach pudging at the position.

"I was just checking if you were a person." A heavy cough behind you made you flinch, "If you were a living creature." You could hear a small 'better!' from somewhere in the background. You could swear there was a flash of a smirk on the mysterious man's face. But just as soon as it was there, it was gone in an instant.

"Well, I'm alive if that's what you're wondering." He quickly turned over, but you didn't move away. In fact, you stayed in the same exact position. "What?" His muffled voice made you giggle, and you stood up to stretch your back.

"I don't know your name. I can introduce myself first if you want?" You offered, trying not to seem as stand-offish as he was.

"I'm Ereaserhead. A homeroom teacher." That was all he offered of himself.

Hizashi popped up from behind you, pulling you away from the grump. "That's Shouta Aizawa, don't mind him, he's always this cranky."

You smiled and shook your head, "I don't mind, he seems interesting." Shrugging your shoulders as you walked away, you missed the rustling of his sleeping bag as he turned to watch you walk away.

___________________________________________

Turns out, Shouta Aizawa was interesting. Also, a major asshole, give or take.

All the teachers were stationed to watch different cameras for the entrance exam. Of course, there were hundreds of other workers with designated cameras and areas, the teachers were mostly there to get an overview and get a general of the upcoming class of students. You and Hizashi happily discussed what students you both wanted, Aizawa was muttering on how reckless and idiotic they all were.

"Hey c'mon dude, give them a break! Most of them don't even know what they're doing." You tried, leaning back in your rolly chair to take a peek at him. Aizawa barely spared you a glance, angrily sipping at his coffee.

"That's the problem, they're clueless and delusional. Especially that one, he's an idiot for going after the zero-point robot, and it's the only robot he's gone after." He pointed to a glowing student flying up in the air, the boy reeled his arm back to deliver a K.O punch to the thing.

"Hey, but he'll get points for saving a young girl." Hizashi butted in, normally spiked hair down and flowing all over the place.

"Really?" You turned back to the screen to watch a young girl get up to try and thank him, but he was out cold. "Well, even if he is a little clueless, he showed great effort and quick thinking to save a girl." You shrugged, looking back at Aizawa.

He scoffed and turned back to flickering through the cameras, taking notes along the way.

You made a face behind the underground heroes' back, before going back to take your own notes.

Later, Aizawa would review the footage of that mysterious green-haired boy to watch just how 'heroic' he was.

___________________________________________

Not soon enough, classes started. You met lots of odd and interesting students, their quirks just as amazing as the next. Each of them was either fascinated or bored with your existence, gushing about the former 30th hero. Teachers and underground heroes were placed on a different scale than billboard heroes since there wouldn't be a fair grading process. Not only did they gush about you, but they also talked about with great vigor their other classes and teachers.

This meant you quickly made aware of how Aizawa decided to conduct his first day as a teacher. Now, you knew Aizawa had been a teacher longer than you, and UA was very free with how a teacher conducted their class, but you were shocked he threatened to expel an entire class of students. His own for god sake!

(Un)Fortunately, both you and Aizawa had a free period at the same time, and you tried to take advantage of this fact.

"Sooo, some of our students talked about their first day." You started awkwardly, fiddling with your papers.

Aizawa looked over at you through a jelly packet and papers, nearly quirking an eyebrow in response.

"Did you really threaten to expel them?" You asked, a little taken aback at the mere mention of it.

"Yes, not only did I see how they performed under duress, but I saw what giving their all looks like." The whole time he spoke he was entirely focused on the papers in front of him, trying to grade the papers he already handed out the first week of school.

"Oh! That's smart, not only can you weed out all the lackluster students, you'll be able to tell when they're slacking." You snapped your fingers in recognition, proud of yourself for figuring out his odd teaching methods.

Aizawa merely grunted in response, ending the conversation with an odd air. You tapped your knees while trying to find another conversation opener.

"Hey, you know, Kayama invited us all for drinks on Friday. Celebrate the new school year, are you coming?" Truly, you did wonder if the mysterious man would go. The R-rated hero made a group chat and already asked everyone. Aizawa had just never responded, and you kinda had a feeling what his answer would be.

"I have better things to do." He grumbled, and he stood up, gathered all his papers, and just left.

"What the hell?"

___________________________________________

Turns out, no he didn't.

You had turned up fashionably late, and almost all of the staff were already there when you arrived. Shouta showed up disastrously late, stumbling in sometime after you. He slid into the booth across from you, flagging down a waiter for just a boring beer.

"I thought you had better things to do?" You questioned Aizawa, sipping at whatever fruity drink Hizashi made you try.

"I did, but those two wouldn't stop pestering me." Aizawa nodded to Kayama and Hizashi next to you, who were already buzzed and very happy.

Even at the mere mention of him, Hizashi perked up and grinned mischievously at Aizawa.

"That's not true! You just wanted to find an excuse to hang out with the new teacher!" Hizashi teased, eyebrows wiggling up and down.

Aizawa scoffed, "

"I don’t need to kiss ass with my coworkers. I’m only here to be kept in the loop of the going on here.” He muttered into his cup, face hidden by the large utensil.

Okay, wow, rude much? You rolled your eyes, “You don’t need to be an ass.” You muttered under your breath, more to yourself than anything.

“No, but I do need to be professional.” Aizawa shot back, face now in full view. He had his hair up, fringe not held down by his messy bun.

Your shoulders slouched while you gave him a ‘dude what?” look. “I've been nothing but cordial to you and others.”

“Your carefree attitude is nothing other than annoying.” Aizawa had his arms crossed now, leaning back in the booth. Everyone else was either pointedly ignoring you or just too wrapped up in their conversations to notice or care about you two.

“I've been in the top fifty before I became a teacher, I’ve seen my fair share of blood and glory. I’m sorry I’m not a robot when it comes to my students.” Scoffing, you rolled your eyes and downed the rest of your drink, its sweet flavor dampening your bad mood.

“I’m a realist, bite me.”

“You’re a pessimist, there is a difference.”

There was a heavy silence after that, Aizawa staring you down while you glared back. Neither of you broke eye contact, even when Hizashi made you get up to use the restroom, you still didn’t quit the staredown.

Fed up with the growing anger in your chest, and feeling the light around you start to bend around you, you slammed down what you owed and left.

You heard a drunk chasting voice as you left, but the steam pouring out of your ears prevented you from hearing it clearly.

___________________________________________

The last time you two talked was just as short and snappy as the last time, except now he was definitely on his high horse. He criticized your teaching methods, which pissed you off to no end because it was fucking Shouta Aizawa we were talking about, criticized how you acted, hell, he even criticized how you dressed.

You had been minding your business, making a new pot of coffee to keep you awake during the day. Footsteps behind you caught your attention, but you ignored them because you knew who it was and would rather die than deal with him right now.

“I still don’t understand how they let you walk around like that.”

Okay, ignoring over.

You turned to give him a nasty look. “Like what?”

“With barely any clothes on. What you’re wearing could be considered underwear, not a hero suit. There's no coverage.” Even though he was critiquing what you were wearing, he wasn’t looking at you. Instead, he was digging in the cabinets for a cup.

“And? This is what works best for my quirk, plus,” you laughed, but there was no real humor in it, “I’ve seen worse.”

“I have no idea how you’ve made it this far with such little clothing.” Aizawa shook his head like he was disappointed in you for your clothes.

“Because clothes don’t matter, it’s who's wearing them that does.” You growled, angrily pouring your cup before stomping out of the room.

That was the last conversation you had before he went off to the USJ trip. Like always it was short and angry, a routine you’d unwillingly created. Truly, Aizawa was the only teacher you didn’t get along with, all the others from Hizashi to even Lunch Rush you had become friends with. Still, now you felt guilty about it. You had arrived late in regards to everyone else, blinding and emancipating a fair amount of stranglers but otherwise caught off guard by the situation. Thankfully, students were mostly unharmed, but the two teachers who had been there had been gravely injured. You only saw a glimpse of Aizawa's injuries, but your mind jumped to conclusions when you saw Kurose’s.

You had visited Kurose earlier, giving her flowers, candy, and books to read while she recovered. For Aizawa, you managed to find out he liked black licorice, so you brought a large bag along with yellow roses. Friendship.

You arrived at his room and stood there for a moment. There was silence on the other end, save for the small and quiet beep beep beep of his heart monitor. So he lives.

You raised a hand and knocked.

“No more visitors.” He sighed from the other end, already annoyed.

You debated on just leaving, but for some reason, you opened the door and peeked in.

“It’s just me.” Your voice was small, and your eyes quickly assessed the state your asshole coworker was in.

“I said no visitors.” Aizawa's voice was just as deadpanned, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was scowling under all those bandages. His arms were cast, almost like prison cuffs rather than healing objects. Nearly his whole body was covered in white, almost blinding you.

“Well, I’m not a visitor, I’m a coworker.” You set down the flowers and candy at the table next to him and sat down in the chair across from him. Disgustingly, there was still warmth in it, and looking over to the second chair you could see the wrinkles in the seat.

“You’re an annoyance.” His bitterness came naturally, you realized now, that even when he was gravely hurt, he still managed to get under your skin.

"Is it so annoying that I wanted to see if my coworker was alive?" You asked, already pissed off.

"Well, I am, so you can leave." Aizawa tried to sit up fully, but he struggled to do so.

It was too awkward to just watch him struggle so pitifully, a man you've come to know with high pride and honor squirming around. So you got up and pressed a gentle hand on his back to guide him up, neither of you said anything while he adjusted. When Aizawa got comfortably situated, there was an awkward silence.

"How…how long are you gonna be bed-bound?"

Aizawa didn't reply right away, leaving the question to awkwardly hang in the air.

"Doctor says it typically takes twelve weeks for an arm to heal, but they can cut that time in half." His gruff voice was soft, and it was the most open thing he's said about himself since you've known him.

"I hope it doesn't take that long! I have to give up my lunch to watch your class." You tried to jest, obviously attempting to lighten the mood.

"It won't, wouldn't want you to overload your work schedule." Aizawa's deep voice was back, just as guarded as usual.

That was the breaking point, and before you said something cruel to the injured man you simply got up and headed to the door. "Just get well man." And with that, you left.

"Damn it."

___________________________________________

He came back the next day.

"What the hell man?!" You barged into Aizawa's room angrily, greeted by the sight of Hizashi force-feeding him some sort of hearty meal.

Aizawa turned to look at you, eyes visible through the bandages.

"What?"

"You're back? You said that the doctors said-"

"It would take him a minimum of six weeks to heal! We know!" Hizashi scolded, tense and angry.

"But no one can stop Aizawa, we just have to make him relax." Kayama scolded, going through his class papers. "I'll grade your quizzes, Hizashi can grade your tests and you can grade his assignments, can't you?" The dominatrix was looking at you now, holding stacks of papers that Aizawa had yet to catch up on, now made impossible with his injuries.

"How does a single man have so much work?" You set the tea you had been saving for the aforementioned man. You had barely made it this morning, something healthy to sip on while he healed. Quickly walking over you leafed through all the miscellaneous assignments both he and All Might had assigned. “I can do all of these no sweat.” You shrugged, taking them all under your arm.

“I’m fine. You’re all overreacting-”

“Don’t even say you’re fine! You just got out of the hospital!” All three of you yelled at him in disbelief. The sliding doors slid open once more, and Recoverys girl's small form waddled through, looking just angry and as disappointing as you all felt.

Wanting to get a jumpstart on grading papers, since you already had your won to grade, you walked out of the room in silence, not wanting to intrude on this unfamiliar song and dance.

___________________________________________

The next two weeks the students were buzzing with excitement, and you saw even less of Aizawa. Always just holed up in his room.

For some reason, you always left him a pot of coffee for him to drink on his desk. He never questioned it or brought it up. You never said anything either.

___________________________________________

When Aizawa fully recovered, he immediately took back all his work. He stopped by your classroom during both of your lunches.

You hadn’t even noticed him walking in, too busy with eating and marking papers with a glitter purple pen, leaving critiques, praises, hearts, and X’s

“You can stop ruining my papers with that horrible pen.” You jumped, almost falling back in your seat at the unexpected sound of Aizawa’s voice.

“Ruining? I’m decorating. I’m sorry you take even grading so seriously.” You shrugged, putting the finishing touches on Shouto Todoroki’s paper. Ending it with a ‘Good job! :D’

“It’s a distraction, you could use the effort you put in desecrating these papers into your job.” He took the paper up from your desk, skimming it before he looked at you again and sighed. “Where are the leftovers.”

“Leftovers?”

“The ones you didn’t finish, the leftovers.” He pressed like you were stupid.

You leaned back, a sense of pride and smugness filling you. “Check the date.” You smirked, eyes sharp and dangerous.

Aizawa stared at you with an unreadable expression, but you saw his eyebrows furrow just a little. He took a glance down and his eyes widened in surprise.

2XXX/5/06

Today.

“Well, then you better catch up on your own work. It’s foolish that you-”

You cut him off by showing your turn-in/graded basket, the graded side completely full.

“Try again.” Your smirk widened, hands raising in a flourish while you leaned back again.

He said nothing while his eyes flickered between all the papers in front of him, and he lifted his head again. “Then you’re probably behind on reports, those are important-”

You cut him off again, turning your computer towards him so he could see not only your completed progress reports but his as well.

“Boom bitch.” For once, you had the upper hand, getting to gloat in his face while he had nothing to say back.

“You shouldn’t use such foul language in the workplace.” Was all he could say while he gathered his papers. On his way out you called out to no one in particular.

“You’re welcome! Ah, whatever.”

You stretched your aching hands, and drank your third energy drink for the day, stomach protesting from so much caffeine on an empty stomach. You dreaded your hero shift later.

___________________________________________

There was an impromptu meeting, and at first, you were confused about what it was about, but you knew whatever it was, it was serious.

Everyone's somber faces made you nervous, and you leaned over to Hizashi and whispered in his ear. “What happened?”

“Apparently, something happened during the students' work studies, but no one can figure out what happened.” He shrugged, just as lost and unnerved you.

Aizawa stood up from the U-shaped table, going to stand in the middle while he looked off angry at nothing. “There was an incident during our first-year students' work studies. Three studies were put in harms way, coming face to face with the hero killer: Stain.”

People started to murmur, but Principal Nedzu popped up from the depths of the erasing hero's scarf.

“Now we understand your concern, as you know the situation has been dealt with. We’ve been asked by the HPSC to keep quiet and have no comment. The affected students will remain anonymous, so even if you do figure out what happened, you are required to keep quiet. You are all dismissed.” The hyperintelligent mouse hopped down and sauntered out of the room. Many staff members followed, murmuring in small groups. You, Kayama, Kurose, Hizashi, and Snipe formed your own group, staying behind to talk within yourselves.

“I knew it was a bad idea for the students to be sent off, I argued with the idea before, and now I see I should’ve fought harder.” Snipe shook his head in both frustration and disappointment.

“Well, what happened was unfortunate, but it gave other students a light into real hero work. Hard times come with drastic measures.” Kayama rebutted, though one could tell to some degree she agreed with the gun hero.

“But they’re so young, such traumatizing events should be saved for their later years.” Yamda’s voice was laced with an old sadness, and Kayama’s face fell crestfallen.

“I agree, I hope those students are well now.” You began, but the conversation was cut short by the sound of everyone's next period beginning. You waved your little group goodbye, turning around to pick up your bag and papers.

“Gossiping is unbecoming.”

You shook your head, annoyance once again festering at you. It seemed like even when you heard his voice at this point, anger consumed you. “So is lying.”

“Who lied?” Aizawa’s voice was full of disbelief, taken aback.

“The HPSC. We’re supposed to be quiet that three of our students were put in danger.” You turned around once all your papers were gathered, and you stared the man down.

“That’s not lying, we are merely setting measures to make sure the situation doesn’t get out of hand.” He shook his head like the answer was simple.

“Omitting information is lying under the law, do their parents know?”

“The affected students' parents were made aware, yes.” His monotone voice was really starting to piss you off.

“So none of the other parents know? And to what degree do they know?” For some reason you dragged out this conversation, it didn’t really matter how long this conversation went on anyway, thanks to the free period.

“That’s not your place to know.” He made no move to leave.

“It is, they’re my students too.” Taking a step forward, encroaching into his personal space, you puffed up your chest. Challenging him.

“You’re an elective teacher, they’re my students, under my care.” Aizawa didn’t back down.

“So then why did it even happen in the first place? Why send out fifteen-year-olds with a murderer on the loose?” You argued back.

“Because I didn’t know. I would’ve never let them out if I had known. Your foolishness will be the death of not only you but the students here as well.” He snapped back, violently grabbing his coffee cup, and stormed out.

His words rang over and over in your ears, and for some reason shame and anger mixed in your stomach, twisting at your insides. Stomping out of the room when you snapped out of your trance, you realized guilt also twisted up inside you.

___________________________________________

Last minute, you were invited to the training camp. At first, you were going to refuse, spend your summer break dealing with the chaotic kids that were class 1-A and 1-B? Yeah, hell no. But the promise of a pay raise eventually won you over, even if you deny this. Plus, recently you have been..lacking in your skills. So busy with being a teacher your fighting skills had diminished, and it wasn’t as if you were now suddenly helpless. You just weren’t at your peak anymore, and all you needed was that extra exercise to put that pep back in your step. So thats how you found yourself packing in the early hours of the morning to pack for the four-week-long trip.

Later in the morning, you found out who you’d be busing with. Class 1-A, or, more specifically, Shouta Aizawa. You immediately turned around at the school gates, but the sounds of students jeering at you stopped you.

“Where are you going teach?” Kaminari called after you, and Iida chastised him for the informal name.

“It’s alright Iida, I don't mind.” You placated the blue-haired boy and turned your attention back to the electric student. “Nowhere, I got roped along to the trip.” You sighed bowing your head in defeat.

“Don’t act that way, we were promised extra pay and you were the first to respond.” Aizawa chastised you, coming up from behind you all, carrying a heavy duffle bag. Even his choice of luggage was bare bones!

Kaminari gasped in hurt, holding a hand over his heart.

“No need to call me out in front of the students!” You growled, shooing him away.

___________________________________________

It took nearly an hour to corral all the students on the bus, and you and Aizawa settled at the front of the bus, both in opposite seats. You waited for the bus to get on the road, and for the students to be too distracted to notice the conversation between you and your unspoken hater to bring up a thought that started to nag you.

“Aizawa.” You were facing him, and the dark-haired man simply side-eyed you instead of acknowledging you. You ignored that. “Why am I the only elective teacher here, wouldn’t it make more sense to bring someone like Hizashi or Anan’s or even Ryo? They’re all much better equipped to be here than me.” Genuinely, this had confused you. No diss to Hound Dog, or Ryo as you’d grown to know him the past couple of months, the stress on his name was that he’d be the absolute best option here. Out in an open area where a multitude of students could get lost? Why not bring the literal hound dog?

“You’ve gotten pretty friendly with the staff.” That was his response, a non-answer, and a deflection.

“Dude, seriously? That’s what you’re hung up about? Yes, I see and communicate with them every day, and we all go out for drinks once every week. I’m pretty sure all the teachers are on a first-name basis personally except for you.” Shooting back, your hands now rested on your knees, hunched over in a defensive position.

“It’s unprofessional. Teachers shouldn’t know each other on such a personal basis.” Aizawa closed his eyes again, trying to nap his way out of the conversation.

You flung your hands up, “You’re right, god forbid I have friends.” Unwillingly, your voice got tight with emotion.

Aizawa opened his eyes fully, and faced you fully, also registering the vulnerability that was presenting in your voice and demeanor.

Even though it’s only been four months, you have grown close with your UA allies. Not only that, but they all welcomed you with open arms and held you in the same regard as you did them. You had especially grown close with Snipe, even if he didn’t tell you his name (or anyone for that matter, you tried looking it up and found articles of his secrecy, mans loves his privacy), along with Anan after USJ, and naturally gravitated towards Hizashi and other elective teachers. The reason you felt so offended by his words, why you got so close with your fellow staff was because you didn’t have other friends. You barely had a family, it was just your dad and estranged siblings, who either didn’t speak to you or didn’t really care for you.

“I just meant you shouldn’t rely so heavily on others, they won’t always be there to save you.” That was reaching, even for Aizawa.

“I don’t, and I know they won’t. You’ve made that so clear.” You swallowed thickly, a burning feeling crawling up your throat signaled you needed to shut up now or else they would be waterworks. And that would be embarrassing for everyone. Sometimes it kept you up at night that Aizawa was the only teacher you didn’t get along with. The others reassured you that he was aloof with everyone, Hizashi and Kayama just saying he was a big hardass with a big heart. But you just didn’t see it, it seemed like he was just mean to you. With people like Ryo and Anan, he was just quiet and cutthroat, but you? Just straight-up mean, brushing you off, undermining you, constantly nagging and criticizing you for everything that you did. It was annoying and frustrating since you had been nothing but nice. You genuinely wanted to be his friend, his mysterious nature and gruff attitude was cool, badass even. Plus, you couldn’t deny he wasn’t unattractive, stubble and dark hair was just so handsome. But his behavior was not. Still, you couldn’t help but seek out ways to try and get on his good side, making coffee, leaving snacks you’d found out he liked out, and taking his side whenever you could in meetings.

You didn’t bring it up again, spending the rest of the ride blinking back angry tears, or maybe it was the disappointment that he didn’t reassure you. Either way, he didn’t say anything either.

___________________________________________

Well fuck. Now you were mad at the school for trying to make the students grow up so fast, figuring out the training camp was usually only for second years due to the rigorous nature, soured your mood further. Not only that, you worried about all the children alone in the woods.

“They’ll be fine.” Aizawa placed a strong hand on your shoulder, and while it made your heart jump, it also pissed you off more.

“It’s a pretty big fuckin forest, what if they get lost or something not part of the exercise attacks them?” You stepped forward, trying to peek at the mess below you.

“They’ll be fine, they can handle themselves. I have no doubt.” You should trust him, Aizawa was their homeroom teacher and no doubt has seen what they can do, but it still unnerved you that these young kids were just out alone.

“I’ll just watch over them then.” You crouched on top of the messed-up fence and jumped.

You heard Mandaly shout in pure fear behind you, but her voice died as you seemingly climbed and crawled through thin air.

High above you watched their movement, keeping track of every rustle and shout. Lazily swimming in the light, arms, and legs pumping while you focused on slipping through the waves of the light. Your skin softly glowing and your body becoming lighter than air.

Somewhere far away, a dark-haired man realized the reason for such a vulnerable suit was to give you full access to your quirk. Still, you had no protection against sharp talons and dangerous attacks. Maybe, there was a better way?

___________________________________________

You didn’t arrive until late, and you were exhausted and hungry. You had almost fallen out of the air multiple times, your body ached and burned, already feeling the sunburn growing on your fingers and knees, places you used your quirk the most.

You were in the private kitchen, searching for something to eat when Mandalay handed you a plate of food.

“You look beat!”

“I feel like someone dragged me through the mud on a hot summer day.” You sighed, gratefully accepting her food, and flopped down on the plush couches.

“I can imagine. I didn’t know what your quirk was, so you scared me when you just jumped. Thankfully Eraserhead explained it to me.” She sighed, shaking her short brown hair.

That made you perk up, “He did?”

“Yeah! He seemed to know a lot about it! You must be very close. Oh, the teacher's dorms are just down the hall, we have our own spring and private bathrooms.” She dug into her food and scrolled through her phone.

Weird.

___________________________________________

You were so glad you weren’t a student anymore.

They were really putting students through the wringer, making them get up early and push themselves to their absolute limits. You and Aizawa stood side by side while you watched over the students, you took notes and he watched dutifully. Your fingers and knees were stinging like a bitch now, skin peeling off quickly, leaving your skin raw and sensitive.

“Looks like you could use endurance training as well.” Here we go.

“Ha ha.” You rolled your eyes. “They’re only like this because towards the end I had to really look for light, it got dark fast and I had been using my quirk nonstop for eight hours. Let me see you do that.” You didn’t see Aizawa's shocked face, and you had stunned him into silence.

“I couldn’t.”

You looked up, and stared at him in confusion. “Couldn’t what?”

“Use my quirk for that long. I can only use it for thirty minutes to an hour now, even if I strain.” Aizawa shrugged as if that wasn’t absolutely horrifying news.

“Since when?” You abandoned your notes now, giving Aizawa all of your attention.

“After USJ. Doctor said the more I strain, the worse it gets. Plus, my eyes are dryer than before, so it makes it harder to keep them open for so long.” Aizawa wasn’t looking at you, instead opting to stare ahead, facial expression carefully neutral.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Your voice was quiet, and his adams apple bobbed.

“There was no reason to cause unnecessary worry.”

“Still that’s…really fucking shitty. I’m sorry dude.”

Aizawa regretted telling you, not being able to stand that sad, kicked puppy look. Hated the reason being him.

“There’s no reason to cause a fuss, such things happen all the time. You should get used to it.”

“Never mind.” You rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite in your tone. He finally looked at you when you said that, your empathy replaced with slight annoyance.

___________________________________________

The next day was much of the same, with both homeroom teachers pushing and critiquing their classes to do and be better. Aizawa’s speech about being better had warmed your heart, and for the first time since you’d known the closed-off man you saw just how much he cared for his students. All he wanted from them was to grow and be better, he was strict out of love and care. It was beautiful in a weird way, but your moment was broken when Midoriya questioned why they were the only teachers there. When he walked away from the inspired green-haired boy, you stopped him in his tracks.

“Hold on.” You skipped in front of the dark teacher, standing your ground. “If All Might isn’t here to not draw attention, and other staff weren’t invited so as to not leak the location of the new grounds, why am I here?” You questioned, encroaching on his personal space to get him to finally answer you.

“It was thought you’d be a good choice to watch over the students.” Again, deflective and a not good answer. He started to walk away, but you followed closely by his side.

“Okay sure, we’ll go with that. But why me? Again, what about Ryo? Or Ectoplasm? They’re much better for wide search and rescue than I am.” You argued.

“You are also independently efficient, not needing the incentive to work hard. Plus, your relationship with the students is..friendly. You work well with the Pussy Cats with your open nature.” Again, he was pointedly not looking at you.

“It sounds like you asked me to be here.” You started to tease, a sense of pride at the indirect/direct praise.

“You were paid to be here, now are you going to waste my time with pointless questions or are you going to do your job.” Aizawa snapped, and that quickly dampened your mood. Note to self, don't tease Aizawa.

Pixie Bob announced that there would be a test of courage later. You were so-so to the idea, knowing you were probably just going to be hanging out in the hot springs anyway, the dark not really being your strong suit.

___________________________________________

It smelt like shit.

That was the first thought in your head when you stepped outside, seeking fresh air. How weird, 1-B must really be going all out to scare 1-A. You were unfortunately still in your hero suit, only barely getting back to your room. Somewhere in the building, you knew Sekijiro and Aizawa was teaching their remedial class, and outside the Pussy Cats were watching over the courage course. So, lazily you walked to the kitchen, planning on getting a light snack before you took a dip in the hot spring, not being able to yesterday. Suddenly you jumped, a feeling of ice dumping all over you. Everyone! Mandalay’s shrill voice suddenly yelled in your head, you stopped immediately to look up. It’s possible there are more. Everyone who can move, get back to camp immediately! Even if you come across the enemy, retreat and do not engage! You felt the telepath end immediately, and your feet moved faster than your mind. You could hear the echoes of your feet slapping across the tile. Legs pumping and knees screaming in protest as you raced to the entrance.

You had no idea what was happening, but you knew the students were in danger.

The front door came into your sight, and you burst through the doors and were greeted by a horrifying sight. A half-burnt and rotten man blasted Aizawa in a white-hot flame, and on instinct, you tackled him to the ground.

He seemed unbothered by all of this and even chuckled. “You guys really are pros.”

You looked up to where he was looking and saw Aizawa crouching in the doorway above the entrance. Momentarily distracted, you missed the villain's hands coming up. He roughly grabbed the side of your face, digging his hot staples into your hair.

“Nothing's coming out.” He pouted, like a child. Knowing you wouldn't have your quirk either, you flipped him over and grabbed the back of his head. You dug your nails as hard as you could, and reeled back. With all your might, you slammed his face into the ground, shoving it down like a dog who pissed on the carpet.

The man dug his dirty fingernails into the innermost sensitive part of your thigh and dug, his staples ripping into you while you squirmed.

You yelled out, and he used that to his advantage to flip you over. Aizawa quickly came up behind him, swiftly kicking the back of his head to straddle the back of him. Aizawa clutched his head and arm, still using his quirk.

“Tell me your name, purpose, number, and positions.” He growled out.

“Why.” The villain deadpanned.

“Because this-” Aizawa broke his arm in one quick movement, “will happen, your rights next. Let’s do this logically.” He lifted his head up, but his grip and gaze never faltered. “If I get your legs, it’ll be a pain to transport you.”

“Are we in a rush, Eraser,” The man made eye contact when he called out your hero name, and it sent a chill down your spine. The end of his spikey hair caught alight. Aizawa pounded his head in the ground a couple of times to stop him.

Rustling caught both yours and Aizawa's attention, and an out-of-breath Iida, Mineta, Koda, and Ojiro made you panic.

In a moment of weakness, the man lunged forward, but Aizawa quickly caught him. He strained for a moment before he whipped around to stare you both down.

“Hey heroes,” His gaze was manic and crazed. “Are your students important?” Then he started to melt. “I hope you can protect them all till the end.” He disappeared through the ground, his body left a mush.

The group rushed towards you, calling out for both of you.

“Get inside! I’ll be back!” Aizawa took off without you, so you quickly took the porch and hallway light and followed him.

“Wait!” You called out after him, knees still screaming in protest, your fingers now burning with the aftermath of stealing the light.

“What are you doing? You’re better off in the building!” He yelled at you.

“I was a billboard pro before this, I can handle myself!”

“Oh yeah, you really proved that back there. Truly pathetic.” He snarled back, and you ran faster.

“Fuck you! Nothing I do makes you happy!” Your fighting was cut short by Midoriya suddenly appearing, a scared Kota on his back. “Midoriya-”

The boy called out to the both of you, “It’s horrible! There’s so much I need to tell you.” He was out of breath, his arm mangled and red.

“Hey-” Aizawa started, slightly out of breath as well.

“First we need to make Mandalay make an announcement- He has a water quirk, you have to protect him!” Midoriya cut him off, words rushed and slightly panicked.

He’s pumped full of adrenaline. Midoriya needed to calm down.

He tried to run off, but Aizawa stopped him. “Stop! Your arm…you did it again, didn’t you? Did you forget what happened in Hosu?”

Midorya was lost in thought for a moment, and you and Kota stood confused. Your thigh was starting to have its own heartbeat, and you could feel the heat of the injury. You’ve gotten hurt worse, scars on your back a testament to that, but he had gotten a sweet spot in your leg. It was shaky and losing blood at a moderate pace, still, Midoriya, a student, was in a worse state and still pressing on. You’d live through worse and been fine, this would be no different.

“No, but…” The green-haired boy trailed off.

“So tell Mandalay this, everyone in classes A and B, you are granted permission to engage in combat.” With that, all parties took off, Aizawa turning to the woods and Midoryia back to camp. You followed Aizawa dutifully, pockets full of light providing some light in the darkness.

You could tell thoughts were racing in his mind, but the older man kept his thoughts to himself.

Kota's weak voice broke the tense silence. “Mister, will he be okay? I hurt him, and he still got up hurt to rescue me...I haven't even told him sorry or thank you yet.” Tears were now spilling from his wide eyes, and his grip on Aizawa's scarf tightened as big emotions consumed his small body. Before Aizawa could respond, you replied for him, not trusting him to say something to soothe his emotions.

“Of course, Kota, Midoryia is a strong hero, after all of this is done, you can properly apologize. I’m sure he’s forgiven you already.” You gave him your big winning smile, face lighting up in reassurance.

“Still, after this, we’ll have to scold him for acting without permission, so make sure you put emphasis on your thank you.” Aizawa said, running to find a place to keep the young child safe.

___________________________________________

“Where are we going?” You called out to Aizawa, the chaos around you making you nervous.

“To the camp, I need to get Kota to safety.” While he was talking, you all broke out of the woods and rushed into the building. Aizawa gently set the boy down, and you both took a breather. The sounds of yelling caught both of your attention, and you groaned. “We just can’t catch a break, can we?”

Aizawa shot you a glare and ran ahead, you still chasing after him. Rushing into the remedial class you saw that burnt man again, Aizawa jumped ahead to try and calm Sekijiro down and disarm the villain. You rushed ahead while his class cheered for him, and started to do horrid damage on the burnt man, smashing his head so hard into the ground it cracked the tile. Students yelled out horrified, but Aizawa cut them off.

“It won’t matter, it’s a fake.” They all watched in horror as the man melted beneath your fingers, but you didn’t stop punching into the ground, taking all your anger out on the slush.

“Is it a villains quirk.” Iida still hadn’t looked away, curious and slightly disgusted by the mess.

“What are you two doing here?” Sekijiro called out to both you and Aizawa, getting both of your guys attention.

“I rushed out to aid in the fight, but I ended up escorting Kota back to base. Please watch over him.” He was pointedly looking at you now, and it pissed you off. “I’m going to help on the front lines.” He tried to rush out, but Sekijiro stopped him.

“Ereaser, we don't know how many there are or how powerful they’re coming at us.” Aizawa turned around.

“You’ll be fine by yourselves, plus look, the fake was merely a diversion. They’re trying to distract us pros to make up for their meager number.” Aizawa shook his head.

“If there isn't that many of them, that’s even more of a reason for me-” Kirishma butted in, voice full of emotion.

“Yes! Nothing beats strength in numbers!” Iida interrupted, filled with the same determination.

“No.” Aizawa's voice was firm, almost scary at how strong he spoke. “If they’re trying to keep us back, then they’re going after you.” The students deflated at his words. “Bakugo’s just one of them, but there might be others as well. We are still losing by a lot with our lack of information. For now, we’ll win by everyone being safe and sound.” He rushed back out to join the fray, with you not too far behind.

“Why are you still following me? You’re better back there.” Aizawa growled out to you, running through the dark.

“Because I’m a pro. I was accepted to teach at UA for a reason.” You were now frustrated, but now it was hard to tell whether it was because of Aizawa, or because of your fuck up at the beginning. You had been caught off guard by a simple attack, and if it weren’t for Aizawa's erasing quirk, you would have been caught on fire because you got distracted.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

You said nothing in response, any response died on your lips when you saw the leftover disaster that was left.

We lost.

___________________________________________

The damage that was left behind was both humiliating and haunting. Both a student and a pro went missing, one who had left with a considerable amount of injuries. Fifteen students had poison running through their veins, or were injured and had to be taken to immediate care. You were questioned by the police for hours while they desperately tried to figure out any information they could. You were of no help, and you knew that the only information you could give was of that patchwork-face guy with a weird melting/fire quirk.

You, Sekijiro, and Aizawa sat in silence while the police officer made a phone call to god knows who. Your thigh was really starting to hurt now, but you made no move to complain knowing the students had it worse than you.

Sekijiro called out to you, and you snapped out of your thoughts to look at him. “Your thigh, are you alright? You look like you’ve lost a lot of blood.” He pointed to your injury, and you didn’t even look down to check.

“It’s fine, just a scratch.” You shook your head, mind filling with self-deprecating thoughts. Even if you had gotten 30th on the billboards, did you deserve it? Popularity had a lot to do with the point system, and your outwardly friendly attitude along with your flashy quirk made good product revenue. Plus, even if you weren’t weak, you realized that now was the first time you faced a real threat. The symbol of peace always being there to pick up the real messes and leave heroes like you to pick up the crumbs.

“It looks infected already.” He wouldn’t drop it, and you finally gave it to look down.

“I’m fine-” You stopped, your innermost thigh caked in dried blood and dirt, and it looked like the villain really got in there.

Later in the hospital, a nurse who was stitching you up pulled out a staple that was lodged deep in your leg.

___________________________________________

“Stop fussing, you look a mess.”

“Oh I’m sorry that I’m nervous.”

For the past few days, all anyone could talk about was the incident at the camp. It wasn’t as if you could blame them, the most prestigious hero school in the country had landed twenty-seven students in the hospital. In response, all teachers involved along with the principal were asked to make an apology, broadcasted all across Japan. The suit you wore was lightly uncomfortable, a little too tight for your liking. Plus, you were constantly pulling down the skirt, someone had gotten you a size too small. Or maybe you were searching for an excuse to fuss and squirm.

You and Aizawa hadn’t talked about the incident. Not that you needed to, you weren’t a couple, let alone friends, but there was an unknown tension in the air. Sekijiro had checked up on you, and had asked how your leg was.

“It’s fine, just needed stitches and a kiss from Recovery Girl, and now I’m good to go.”

Some part of you was angry that the dark-haired man didn’t reach out to you, but it was fine. It wasn’t but it was.

Aizawa shot you a look, and you quickly shut up. Sekijiro next to you just bumped your knee in reassurance.

“We’re live.” The man in the middle of the room called out, signaling for you all to stand up and speak.

“We deeply apologize for our shortcomings during the incident that allowed harm to twenty-seven first years in the hero course because of our shortcomings. We apologize for creating unease in our society because of our negligence in proper defense in our place of learning.” You all bent over in an apology, and you bowed the deepest. “We are truly sorry for the damage we’ve done.” You all stood back up straight, waiting for questions.

A man spoke out from within the crowd. “Since the beginning of the year, the UA students have had four encounters with villains. What specific countermeasures are you taking to ensure the safety of our students?” His voice was growing in volume the more he spoke, getting more and more passionate as he went on.

“Our students are of top-most importance, we will work even harder as a team to make sure they are strong enough to become great heroes.” A non-answer, Aizawa really was good at deflecting.

Another man stood up, holding a mic and paper. “During the incident, it appears you encouraged the students to fight. What was your intention behind this?”

Aizawa leaned forward to speak into the mic.

“I concluded that because we were unable to fully grasp the situation, it had to be done to avoid the worst possible outcome.”

“What do you mean, ‘worst possible outcome?’” Damn it, now they were gonna dig and pry and use any answer to get under your guys’ skin to try and get the upper hand. “You don’t call twenty-six victims and one abducted the worst possible outcome?”

“My assumption was that the villains would drive out students to their absolute limit and be killed.” Aizawa replied cooly, but you saw his own hands clench tighter and tighter with every word.

Principle Nedzu spoke up, though he was sitting in his chair with his arms crossed. “The gas attack accounts for most of the injuries. We concluded it was merely a sleeping gas from one of the enemies' quirks’. Thankfully, the quick response of Ms. Kendo and Mr. Tetsutetsue led to no grave injuries in the attack. In addition, mental support is being given to all the students, but at the moment, we see no signs of serious psychological damage done.” His voice was light, and while it wasn’t its usual cheery tone, it was calm and soothing.

“Are you saying this was a bright spot in this tragedy?” The reporter shot back, trying to twist the words of the principal.

“We believed the worst outcome is one that would’ve infringed on the future.”

“Can you say the same for the kidnapped Bakugo? He enrolled in UA High with excellent marks and won first place at the sports festival. In addition, during the incident with the sludge villain in middle school, he resisted the powerful villain alone. He has a history of showing how tough and heroic he is. On the other hand, the violence he showed in the finals and his attitude during the award ceremony shows that he is not always mentally stable. What if the villains kidnapped him because they had an eye on him? Kidnapping him with deceitful words and dying him with the path of evil?” The reporter's long rant was not only pissing you off but your allies as well. The more and more the reporter went on, the more serious he got like he was uncovering some big truth about a fifteen-year-old. “What evidence do you have for saying he has a future?”

Oh hell no. How dare a stranger assume the life of some kid with anger issues? You’ve spent nearly every day with the kid, even if you don’t have him all day you’ve seen a glimpse into Kastuki Bakugo's life. He was emotionally unstable, but he really did have a hero's heart, even if his asshole-ish nature offset that. Aizawa stood up, and you prayed he wouldn’t pop off and snap at the reporter.

Instead, he bowed down and apologized. “As an educator, I take full responsibility for Kastuki Bakugo's violent behavior. However, his actions at the sports festival originate in what he considers ‘ideal strength’. He is trying harder than anyone in his pursuit of becoming the ‘top hero.’” Aizawa peeked up from his bowed form, eyes hard and sharp. “If the villains thought they had an opening, then I believe they are being short-sighted.”

There was a tense silence, everyone swallowing the weight of Aizawa's words. Even you were amazed at such a declaration of truth and care.

The reporter meekly lifted up his mic once more. “That is not evidence, though. It isn't a question of how you feel-”

You wanted to throw yourself across the table and throttle him. Thankfully your principal spoke up once more before you could ruin your career. “We are not standing around idly by. We will definitely get our student back.” The interview/apology was ended after that, you and Sekijiro mostly there just because you were there.

“Aizawa wait.” You sighed, heels quickly clicking after him. All you trying to avoid the rush of questions that flew out in response to the abrupt end. “Your speech was inspiring. I have no idea how you kept your cool while that asshole dissed your student.”

“I had no choice, flying off the handle or having a weak moment would do no good." You couldn’t help but feel like that was a dig to you. “They were only trying to get under our skin.”

You immediately became guarded once more, and you stopped back to leave the other way. “Well, I just came by to praise you, have a good day.” You felt disappointed that all he said to you was something negative, hoping for once to have a decent conversation.

___________________________________________

You had to move into dorms for the rest of the school year, possibly longer if Nedzu saw fit. The meeting was awfully boring, Nedzu was currently going over how the dorms will be set up and students expectations as well as teachers. “Blah blah blah dont fuck up the dorms blah blah blah set up good examples for the students blah blah blah don’t bring over random people and please don’t have loud relations with your coworkers-” Wait what-

The meeting ended, and everyone packed up their bags while having light conversations with the others. You walked over to Yamda snickering, face in disbelief.

“Hey Hizashi, what was that last part?” You asked breathlessly, a laugh on your lips.

Hizashi snickered beside you, and Nemuri smiled and shook her head. “Principal Nedzu basically asked us not to not have one-night stands and to not have loud sex with each other.”

“Oh my god.” You covered your mouth with your hand, doubling over in an effort to hide your laughter. Hizashi had no shame was laughing manically, Nemuri was just smiling and shaking her head disappointingly beside you.

___________________________________________

‘Roommates’ were hand-picked by the principal, based on the quiz he had created and forwarded to all the staff members. You had honestly answered all the questions, and were now riding the elevator up into your new home. Someone told you (Hizashi) that the apartments were apparently floor-through plan, a luxury floor plan really. The whole floor was dedicated to the rooming, and it was awesome. You didn’t know who your roomie was, the principal keeping that secret as a ‘Fun surprise!’ The elevator dinged, and you hurriedly pushed all your boxes out in the small hallway, pressing the ‘keep doors open’ button over and over. Luckily it was the last of the boxes, all your clothes, decorations, and miscellaneous cooking wear. Being promised that things like couches, beds/bed frames, and microwaves would be provided. You still brought over things like spoons/forks/butter knives and real knives, plus plates and cups.

You went to open the door, panting from all the exertion but realized it was already locked. So your roomie was already here..? You fished out the key from the bags you brought and unlocked the door. Opening the door you expected your roomie to have already decorated (you kinda expected it to be Hizashi, both of you bounced off each other pretty well) but the kitchen looked untouched.

Opening the door more, you saw the dining room and living room bare, as well as the hallway.

Maybe they hadn’t had time to decorate?

You shrugged and started to push the boxes in, too tired to lift them up and move them again.

“You’ll scratch the floor like that.” Your whole body froze, a dark gloom falling over you. That familiar irritating voice.

You looked up slowly, face contorted in a forced smile.

Aizawa Shouta.

“What are you doing here?” There was no way, in all of Nedzu's wisdom and knowledge that you and Aizawa were roommates. For the rest of the year. Or maybe, the rest of your career.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re roommates.” He shrugged like an open admission wasn’t a death sentence.

“But, how is that allowed, we’re different genders?” You literally wouldn’t have minded if your roomie was the same gender or not, but it was the fact that it was him.

“Gender doesn’t equate to things like sexuality or self-restraint. Are you saying we shouldn’t be roommates because you cannot-” How he said this with a blank face bewildered you.

“No! I’m just saying we don’t work well together, we can’t go a single conversation without going for each other's necks.” You cut him off, now becoming bewildered.

“Well then, I guess you’ll have to show some self-restraint in other ways.” He shrugged and turned to go back into the room he already chose, which was annoying because why did he get first pick?

“Okay woah wait,” You followed him, the floor changing from kitchen tile to the carpet in the hallway. “I’m the one starting fights? Says the man who always has something negative to say, or who always just cuts me off and criticizes me.” He opened the door, and you saw a glimpse of his bare bedroom.

“I don’t always have something negative to say, you always have something to improve.” With that, Aizawa closed the door in your face. You growled out and angrily continued unpacking. This will be fun.

___________________________________________

Even if you were being sarcastic, living with the man was absolutely not fun. Aizawa's criticism and nagging got worse, and now he's deluded to actually fucking lecturing you like you were a kid.

You were hanging up old pictures of family members, along with scening paintings and newspapers with you in them. Aizawa came out of his room, baggy clothes as usual and stopped you.

“Are you serious? Not only are you being extremely loud for eleven p.m., but you’re already putting holes in the new walls. You’re not even using the right nails, they’re going to snap after a few months of use.” He grabbed the hammer out of your hands, along with the nails you had in your other hand.

“I’m not even being that loud, plus who cares, I’m going to hang stuff up eventually why does it matter?” You tried to grab your supplies back, but Aizawa leaned away from you so it was out of your grasp.

“Because this is a shared living space, it’s rude to just hang stuff up without permission.” He set the tools on the ground, accidentally kicking over your pictures.

“Oh I’m sorry, do I need to ask you when to take a shit too?” You slightly lunged at him, puffing your chest out.

“Stop acting like a child, is it so hard to respect basic formalities?” Aizawa asked you, staring you down.

“Stop acting like a dick, is it so hard to be nice?” You threw his words back in his face, already pissed off.

“Enough, I’m tired already and you’re only putting a damper on my mood.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, turning back to his room. You found out he stole the larger room, with the walk-in closet and bathroom, leaving you with a tiny closet and no personal bathroom.

That was kinda how you two had been living for the past week, constant bickering over every single thing. Maybe he left stains on the tupperware and cups because of his horrid coffee addiction, or maybe you left your mess in the way of the living space, or maybe one of you just breathed too hard. Whatever it was, it started angry arguing with one or both of you storming out.

Whatever, recently you started to train in one of the personal gyms at the school, taking out your anger on the environment around you instead of murdering your roommate. That was our only place of solace, being able to jump and crawl around and hone in on your close combat. To be honest, it had been lacking, and the event at the camp left you self-conscious and hesitant. Noting the lights were already on, you walked in and dropped your bag at the door, gathering some light to use as stepping stools later. Quickly swapping your sweatpants and sweater for your hero suit, you walked out of the changing room and froze when you saw a figure right beside you.

Stepping out of the male changing room.

“Are you stalking me?” You turned to him, already angry.

“I could ask you the same thing, you seem to follow me wherever I go.” He snapped back, adjusting his capturing scarf.

“Because you’re always there. Like, I can’t even take a piss without you popping out of the corner to tell me the amount of toilet paper I’m using is wrong.”

“That’s an inappropriate example.” He watched you storm off, going to your corner of the gym to start your practice. You quickly climbed in the air, running across the left side of the gym while doing flips and jumps.

You could feel his cold gaze on you, analyzing your every move and jump. Self-conscious, you tripped mid-jump and panicked, years of hero instincts out the window. Your quirk deactivated, and you could feel yourself free falling through the air. You are fully prepared to hit the hard ground, tensing up your body to prepare for impact.

Instead of hitting the hard cement, large hands wrapped around you, holding your back and stomach protectively.

“Are you not a hero? What was that?” Aizawa growled, quickly standing you up and holding your shoulders while he looked you over.

“I got nervous! I panicked!” You shocked him away, holding yourself.

“Nervous about what? You were doing fine.”

“You! I could feel you judging me, so I just tripped and I freaked out!” Yelling at him, you missed his hand clutching over his heart.

“Freaked out? What if there was a student in danger, what if you were in danger?” His voice was getting as loud as yours was.

You clenched your fists, nails digging painfully in your palm. “Why do you care so much?”

Aizawa went silent after that, his face angry but he himself was quiet.

There was a heavy pause, he seemed to mull something over and you just sat angry at him.

“Because I will not let my staff be weak.” You looked away, already done with the conversation, done with him.

“I’m leaving, I’m done.” You tried to stroll past him, but he stuck out a hand.

“Wait.” You glared at him, and the bottom half of his face was engulfed with his scarf. “Train with me, let’s spar together.”

“Why would I ever-”

“Let me finish. It’ll allow me to train you to be better, and would let you get your frustrations out on me.”

That was..odd for Aizawa. You couldn’t deny the idea of beating Aizawa into the ground didn’t seem fun, but the idea of him being a teacher to you made you feel a type of way. You thought about it for a moment, but eventually, your anger won you over.

“Fine, but don’t blame me if you walk into your classroom limpiING-” Your sentence was cut off when Aizawa swept his feet under you, knocking you into the ground. You lay on the ground, arms flexing with the burning desire to knock his teeth out.

“You’re on asshole.”

___________________________________________

His strong hands clutching you, only there for seconds while he threw you to the ground, his dark eyes following your every movement, fast and calculating, the way he was so sure of his movements, fast and strong.

Those were images and thoughts that ran in your head when you stepped into the shower, hands delicate over blooming bruises and scratches. You managed to get a couple of good hits on him, your knuckles still raw when you clocked him right in the jaw and your legs slightly shaking when you pushed him off of you. Aizawa never fully gave you the chance to use your quirk, allowing you to fully focus on hand-to-hand combat, his specialty.

“You need to work more on your confidence and ability in close combat. Tomorrow we’ll do the same thing.” His monotone voice was a little more tired than usual, and he held an ice pack to the same spot where you punched him.

“Same time?” Your voice was just as tired, and you barely kept in a yawn. He simply nodded in response, turning in for the night.

Those interactions, those thoughts kept you up all night, wondering why thoughts of him infected your mind.

You turned over, needing sleep to make lesson plans and help with schedule planning.

___________________________________________

At first, training with Aizawa was fine, not great, but not exactly bad. But over the recent few weeks, he seemed to get even meaner than before, if that was even possible. You learned quickly he was holding back on you, and it made your class time very awkward.

"Hey, Ms. where'd you get those bruises from?"

"Rough night?"

It was embarrassing, especially the rougher he got.

"Fuck." You coughed, a swift kick in the chest downed you, and now you leaned over on your knees panting for breath. "Jesus dude, this is just training not the real fucking thing." You looked up at him, hand cupping your injury.

"You could have easily avoided that. I overestimated your skills. Get up." He didn't even sound sorry.

"Let me catch my breath first damn."

"No, get up. Do you think a villain will give you the same opportunity?" He taunted, hands on his hips while he looked down at you.

"I would've blinded the villain by now, give me a break." You waved him off, and he took the opportunity to grab your hand and haul you up.

"Or they could've killed you by now. You need to be stronger. Get ready." Aizawa quickly got into stance, fists ready to punch you again.

"Aizawa. Give me five fucking minutes, that hurt like a bitch." You backed up, creating a wide berth between the two of you.

He stood up, and because of his baggy hero suit, you couldn't see he was still flexing his muscles.

"See, was that so hard?" You sighed, rubbing at your chest. Taking a deep breath in, you looked up and closed your eyes. You yelled out when suddenly he tackled you to the ground, flipping you over to twist your arm.

You scratched at your bandages, fucker gave you a goddamn professional indian burn. A while back some of your advanced kids took their finals, each had to write three different essays about three different historical moments in their lives, in hero history, and Japanese history. You had put off grading them until the summer break since that was what you were originally planning to do at the start of the break. It was hard to grade so many papers when your arms and hands hurt like a bitch, and it was hard to focus with an achy body that hurt all over.

Groaning, you threw your head back and sighed, feeling a major headache growing on your head.

"What's your problem?" Aizawa's voice came from behind you, opening your eyes you saw his upside-down form sipping from a kitty cat coffee mug.

"Other than you, these goddamn papers. I put them off and now I have too much work to do." You sat back up, picking up your red glitter pen. You heard him sit beside you, the couch dipping under his weight. Aizawa picked up a random paper, skimming over it while he placed down his coffee cup.

"If you can't do it by yourself-"

"I can, thank you very much."

"-then I suppose I could help you. It doesn't seem that complicated." He shrugged, quickly putting his thick hair up in a bun. You watched his hands, and heat pooled in your cheeks at the sight. Even after all this time, you still couldn't deny the aggravating man wasn't attractive. His strong and long neck which was usually hidden was just so…hot. For lack of a better word, it made you feel like a medieval man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time.

"That's because that's one-third of the students' final, and that's the personal essay. If you want, you can do the personal ones while I do the hero and Japanese ones." You pushed the large stack of papers towards him, handing him a black glitter pen. His thick fingers slightly curled around your hand at the contact, making you swallow.

"Seriously? Do you not have any normal pens?" He asked, deadpanned.

"Nope." You turned away quickly, drinking some water to cool your body. What was wrong with you?

You scratched at your bandages again, wishing you could just rip them off. Suddenly, hands engulfed your forearm.

You turned over to your injury, seeing pale olive hands adjusting your bandages. You looked up with wide eyes and watched him fix them for you.

"Stop messing with them. You're going to agitate it more, and it will be more painful tomorrow." Aizawa's voice was firm, but his hands were so soft. So caring and gentle, fingers kindly moving them so they covered up everything. He looked up at you, awaiting whatever snappy response you had.

"You're agitating."

And for a moment no one did anything. The only sound was the whirring of the AC and the tick tick ticking of the analog clock above the kitchen doorway.

"You're infuriating." Aizawa responded, but there was no bite in his voice. Subtlety, every so subtlety, you two inched forward. His strong hand left your forearm to your shoulder, and you dropped your pen to inch your hand to his thigh.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, eyes solely focused on him.

You didn't know when, or where, or even why but sometime from when you met Aizawa to now, you sought for him everywhere. Even when he pissed you off more than anyone, you still wanted him to look at you, talk to you. You were the one always inviting him for drinks and hangouts with the staff, always tagging him along when you stayed at Hizashi's house. Even if he hated it, you always sent him cat memes and tiktoks, or sent him videos about coffee or teacher hacks. And every time he would grumble or complain something about professionalism or how it was stupid of you to do so. But every time, he'd respond, every time he tagged along, and he would even send you tiktoks back, things he thought you'd like.

It had always been him. And it was always you.

You were so close, your hand on his chest, his heart was hammering, almost as fast as yours, and his hand was splayed on your back, holding you. So close.

"OH FUCK! GET IT!"

That broke you both out of your trance, both of you pulled your hands back like they burned.

You quickly looked at the coffee table in front of you, staring down while your white knuckles your knees.

Aizawa cleared his throat but said nothing.

"EEEEE!"

Hizashi's loud squealing reverberated around the home, and you laughed. Mostly out of nerves, but still laughed.

Aizawa sighed, cursing under his breath. "Fucking Hizashi and his fear of bugs."

Wiping a tear from your eye, (from embarrassment maybe?) you turned to look at him. Aizawa was also pointedly avoiding eye contact and had already snatched up the pen and paper again.

"I remember watching the footage from your guys' finals, that shit was hilarious." You giggled, face still red.

"Not so much when he ran to the emergency showers screaming his goddamn head off. I had to follow him to make sure he didn't blow the damn building away." With quick hands he put down his hair again, but not before you saw how red his ears had become. Not only that, but you saw him trying to hide his shaky hands.

Leaning over you also continued your work, like you were supposed to, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach and the raging blush you were sure you had.

Later that night, laying alone in your bed you screamed into your pillow. A horrifying realization that was going to make your life so much harder.

You hated Shouta Aizawa as much as you loved him. And you were almost sure he felt the same.

___________________________________________

HOT DAMN, OVER 11K WORDSSSSS. literally crying /j this is now my magnum opus. i hope this gets at least one like because FUCK lmao

anyways, was planning on writing an alt ending but idk, eat up bitches. reqs are still open lmao. also if yall want specific emojis for anon that's okay

edit; literally pissed, i used the wrong name for present mic, I used his last name instead of his first km, dw I fixed it so his dialogue makes more sense now

267 notes · View notes

bolilloquemad0 · 3 months ago

Text

PT 2 LET'S GOOOO

We're back with Picking up Strays, get comfy!

(Go and check pt1 if you haven't)

Talia

With Talia, both me and Astro had different views on how she could end with a cat. So let's start with Astro's version.

They said that Damian could go with the pretense that he doesn't know how to take care of the cat (lie) or simply couldn't keep it with him, anyway Talia ends with a cat under pretense. Despite the League beliefs, Damian knows that Talia would take good care of the cat, and so mentions that the cat was mistreated by humans and Talia goes "Give it to me my son, I will take care of her".

Talia would go absolutely crazy with spoiling her princess, which she calls Arwa in honor of a Islamic queen. Arwa would have her own servants and everything, she really starts living as a queen. The 3 years old, brown-ish nebelung also has a ripped ear, consequences of her past, but Talia doesn't see it as a flaw. For Talia is proof of her resilience and warrior spirit.

For me tho, it goes a bit different. Damian wants to give her a cat, he really wants, but he knows how pets are seen in the League. A weakness. And Damian knows what happens when weakness is shown. So, for now, Damian sends her pictures of Arwa without any context.

Talia is confused, but happy nonetheless that Damian is reaching out. Even if is through cat photos. After a few photos and noticing that is always the same cat, Talia asks about it and Damian responds, "Is yours."

Damian may have not been living with her for a long time, but he's still her son. Talia doesn't know the exact reason, but she knows what it implies.

"May I know her?"

"TT. Fine."

Talia still falls in love with Arwa, and she still becomes the spoiled queen Arwa was destined to be. After that, almost everyday Damian receives a photo of Arwa.

Barbara

Barbie is next cause everyone loves Barbara Gordon.

This goes actually diferent. Babs has seen the cat in her neighborhood before. Always in the same alley and running around, with food in his mouth that definitely is stolen, she even has seen the cat sleeping in that broken stairs that no one uses in her building. So, she is quite familiar with the orange tabby that wanders here and there.

But after four days of not seeing him, Babs finally calls Robin to help her. She know is a personal matter but also knows that Damian is her best option to at least make sure the cat is fine. Damian finds him hurt, probably by a dog attack, and is quick to take him to the vet.

A month later, when Babs arrives at her apartment Damian is waiting for her with all the necessities a cat may need. One look at the purring tabby on her couch and Babs finally understands why everyone else accepts the cats.

Babs decides to call the 2 years-old Jesse, honoring Jesse James (a famous robber way back in history). Jesse, as any other orange cat, is a whirlwind of energy. He specially likes stepping into her laptop everytime Barbara is working, she gently lifts him and puts him on the floor but he doesn't care, Jesse just tries again. That's it until Babs pulls out a old rusty laptop that she no longer uses and opens it when she is working. Jesse is so happy to have his own laptop.

Once, she decides to take Jesse with her at the library, partly worried but she can't let him in the apartment for whatever reason. Surprisingly enough, Jesses always stays calm and friendly, letting kids pet him. She finds him sleeping on shelves or close to the windows always under the sunlight. She starts taking him to work with her and you bet she even made him a credential.

Jesse's habits die hard tho. He still brings a lot of weird shit to Babs as gifts. Dead small animals, trinkets and random stuff she doesn't know what to do with. One day he brings a whole ass wallet.

Tim

No one is more surprised than Tim. Not only he receives a cat, but as a birthday gift too? Wow, he definitely didn't cried.

The cat in question is a 2 years old, siamese oriental shorthair. Really thin and lanky. The cat has this air of elegance at every step.

At first he wants to name him Ghost or something like that, but Kon (joking) says that that's no name for the heir of the Drakes. Tim takes it too seriously and he names the cat a super rich-kind name.

He ends with Sir Konrad The Third Archduke of the Couch.

This name has so many jokes on it. Firts is Konrad, at the beginning it was with C (Conrad) but Astro pointed out that it could also be pronounced with a K, as a reference to Kon, that way it can also be read as Kon-rad (he was so happy about it, saying that Konrad was also his son). The Third stands cause Tim is the third Robin. And Archduke of the Couch just because Konrad is a heavy sleeper that barely leaves the couch.

Bringing back the thought of Konrad being a heavy sleeper that love warm places to sleep, so picture this with me fam. Tim is working on the couch, focused on a case, and probably hasn't seen his bed since two days ago, suddenly he notice that he needs something that is upstairs or in another room, the problem is that the cat is sleeping in his lap, and he looks so comfy, so if Tim moves he would probably wake him up and now he is trapped on the couch.

Ten minutes later he is sleeping in the couch with a cat on his lap. This repeats a lot, so Konrad is actually helping Tim with his sleep schedule. Bonus points for all the pics that the batfam have of Tim and Konrad sleeping together.

When Steph gets her cat, eventually, Korand and Steph's cat has the worst relationship ever. They literally can't stand eachother.

#batman #batfam #batfam headcanons #picking up strays au #talia al ghul #barbara gordon #tim drake #this is silly #dc comics

20 notes · View notes

sebflix · 5 months ago

Text

Arabesque; sebastian sallow | pt1 (m)

pairing: sebastian sallow x ballet!reader(f)

genre: strangers (to friends??) to lovers, eventual smut

warnings: all characters are 18+! no other warnings in part 1, unless you count a lot of romantic tension, eventual smut in pt2

word count: 2.8k

chapter synopsis: After losing a duel to the new student, Sebastian becomes curious about who you are and does the most logical thing to learn more about you—he follows you right into the Room of Requirement.

other notes: the music i think of when she is dancing is black swan (orchestral ver) by bts, but you can think of whatever song you want!

links: ao3, masterlist

[read on ao3]

01 | 02 | 03

When Sebastian said he would give you a 'proper Hogwarts welcome,' he didn't expect to be the first one on the floor.

As the new student at Hogwarts, you were just instructed by Professor Hecat to duel in class with Sebastian. He thought he'd cut you some slack and go easy on you, but he was taken aback by the first Levioso you casted. Intrigued by your mysterious aura, which had captivated him ever since you walked in late to the Sorting Ceremony the other day, he couldn't help but be mesmerised by you.

With the other students cheering for you, Sebastian picked himself up from the floor, brushing the dust off his robe. He glanced at you, seeing a triumphant grin on your face as the others congratulated you for winning.

As the class began filing out, he approached you. "Hm, not bad for a beginner. You give as good as you get," he chuckled, taking one last look at you before heading toward the door.

With a rush of adrenaline and a spark of excitement, you felt a sense of accomplishment bubbling up inside. You turned around, smirking. "I enjoyed that; it was certainly good practice."

His pride was slightly wounded but his interest piqued, Sebastian couldn't help but feel a growing admiration for your skill. "Practice? I was going easy on you."

You raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Sure you were. Let's see what happens next time when you're not holding back." You give him one last look before exiting the classroom, leaving him standing there, intrigued and eager to know more about you.

Ever since that duel, you had been on Sebastian's mind constantly. He notices you everywhere—in hallways, classrooms, the common room—always in a hurry, darting around corners to get somewhere. This only heightened his curiosity, making him eager to discover what kept you so busy.

One night, while he was coming back from the Duelling Club in the dungeons, he spotted you again, darting around a corner. He stopped in his tracks, his mind urging him to follow you. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to follow you, intrigued by your mysterious behaviour. Keeping a safe distance, he moved silently, determined to uncover the secret that kept you perpetually on the move.

You had just come back from meeting your new friend Natsai and was eager to return to your Room of Requirement as soon as possible. As much as you enjoyed being the new student, the constant socialising with so many people in such a short time was exhausting. You longed for a moment of peace to yourself, away from the bustling life of Hogwarts.

Unaware of Sebastian trailing behind, you hurried through the corridors, your mind set on the sanctuary of your private space. As you reached your destination, you faced the wall, focusing your mind. Responding to your intent, the wall shifted, and the door appeared, allowing you to swiftly slip inside.

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise, his curiosity piqued as he wondered what he had just witnessed. In all his years at Hogwarts, he had never come across this door—an enigmatic entrance that seemed to materialise out of thin air, hidden within the labyrinthine walls of the castle. Seeing you scurrying inside, he hesitated for a moment before making a split-second decision. As the doors began to close, he acted on impulse, squeezing between them and entering the room, driven by an insatiable desire to unravel the mystery that surrounded you.

What are you doing?! his mind screamed at him, a voice of reason cautioning against the impulsive act of following a girl into an unknown room. But his curiosity always got the better of him. The thrill of the unknown beckoned him forward, igniting a sense of adventure that he couldn't resist.

The first thing he saw when he walked in was a small dim-lit hallway, the walls covered in shelves full of clutter and plants. With each step he took into the hallway, he felt a rush of excitement mingled with apprehension, unsure of what he would discover.

Music filled his ears suddenly. As the first notes filled the air, Sebastian's senses were instantly captivated, the sudden onset of music causing him to startle slightly. The rich strains of the violin and piano resonated with a profound depth, their heavy tempo commanding attention and stirring something deep within him. Each note seemed to carry a weighty significance, weaving a tapestry of sound that enveloped him in its mesmerising embrace. Enveloped in the enchanting sound, Sebastian found himself spellbound, unable to resist the alluring pull of the music that seemed to echo the depths of his own soul. As he walked further into the hallway and into the opening of the room, his eyes could not believe what he saw.

The room was unlike anything Sebastian had ever seen. It resembled a grand study, with towering bookshelves lining the walls, filled to the brim with ancient tomes and volumes of knowledge. Soft candlelight flickered across the room, casting warm shadows that danced along the shelves. On either side of the room, elegant staircases led up to an opening bordered with branches of trees, their delicate silhouettes adding a touch of whimsy to the space. At the top of the staircases, a majestic clock rested, its hands ticking away the moments in quiet reverence.

As Sebastian's gaze wandered, he noticed the walls adorned with a myriad of artworks, each one a masterpiece in its own right. Paintings of landscapes and portraits of long-forgotten figures adorned the walls, their details vibrant. The pillars that rose to support the ceiling were not mere structural elements but works of art in themselves, with intricate detailing that spoke of the craftsmanship of generations past. Each curve and flourish seemed to tell a story, adding to the room's sense of grandeur. And above it all, the glass dome on the ceiling soared majestically, offering a breathtaking view of the night sky. Moonlight streamed through the translucent surface, bathing the room in a gentle, silvery glow that lent an air of enchantment to the already magical atmosphere. It was a scene straight out of a fairy tale, a sanctuary where dreams and imagination knew no bounds.

For a moment, Sebastian felt as though he had been transported to another world entirely, one where time seemed to stand still and all worries faded away in the face of such breathtaking beauty. But then he saw you.

You were dressed in a ballet ensemble, a vision of ethereal beauty that seemed to transcend time itself. Your tightly laced bodice was adorned with delicate lace trimmings and intricate embroidery, while the shade of the lightest pink adorned the layers of your voluminous skirt, casting a soft and romantic glow upon your form. The tiny pearls and crystals on your tutu caught the moonlight, scattering glimmers of shimmering light as you danced gracefully in the middle of the spacious room, your movements fluid and mesmerising.

In that moment, you seemed to embody the very essence of beauty and grace, your passion for dance evident in every step and pirouette. As you twirled and spun across the floor, the room itself seemed to come alive, the music of your movements filling the air with an enchanting melody that spoke of love and longing. The violins, with their hauntingly sweet notes, wove a delicate tapestry of sound that harmonised perfectly with your movements, evoking a sense of yearning and emotion that left Sebastian utterly captivated.

"Merlin..." he watched in awe, hiding behind the staircase, you not having noticed him yet. He could not believe what he was seeing. Is this the reason for your hurrying out after class? You were hiding this talent? As his eyes roamed over your form, taking in every detail, Sebastian couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over him. From the tips of your pointed toes to the graceful curve of your legs, each movement you made seemed to exude a captivating elegance that held him spellbound. And as his gaze finally met your face, he found himself utterly entranced by the beauty that radiated from within you.

You. You were the most breathtaking beauty he had ever seen.

"Pirouette, arabesque, releve..." you softly murmured the names of the steps under your breath as you danced alone in the Room of Requirement. This room was your sanctuary, a place where you could escape the pressures and expectations of the outside world. Here, surrounded by the soft glow of moonlight and the gentle rustle of your skirts, you felt free to express yourself fully, without fear of judgment or scrutiny. It was a space where you could be vulnerable, where you could let go of your inhibitions and lose yourself in the beauty of ballet.

With each whispered word, your executed the movements with precision and grace, your body moving with fluidity and poise. Each step flowed seamlessly into the next, guided by the rhythm of the music and the silent reminders that echoed in her mind. As the final notes of the music faded away, you brought the dance to a graceful conclusion, your chest gently rising and falling to catch your breath. With a sense of contentment washing over, you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of the dance.

Suddenly, you felt a tingle down your spine, a sense of someone else's presence in the room. Swiftly grabbing your wand from the table next to you, you whirled around and pointed it toward the source of your disturbance. "Levios-"

Sebastian shot up from his position behind the staircase and into her view, hands shot up in a gesture of surrender. "W-wait! Hold on now!" he stammered, his voice tinged with urgency.

With the wand still pointed in Sebastian's direction, your eyes widened in surprise. 'Sebastian?' you said in disbelief. You did not expect anyone to be in this room, let alone the boy from her classes. Your eyes narrowed as you assessed the situation. Your heart raced with a mix of adrenaline and caution, unsure of whether to trust the unexpected visitor.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" you demanded, your tone laced with suspicion.

Sebastian swallowed nervously, his gaze shifting under your scrutinising stare. "I, uh, I was just...exploring," he replied lamely, his attempt at nonchalance failing miserably.

"Exploring?" you echoed incredulously, your grip on your wand tightening. "Alone? At this hour? How did you even get in here?"

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably under your intense look, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I, uh, may have been following you," he confessed sheepishly. "I saw you slip in here earlier, and...well, I guess I got curious."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at his confession, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity crossing your features. A wave of unease washed over you, settling like a heavyweight in the pit of your stomach. The thought of him trailing after you, possibly witnessing your most vulnerable and raw expression of your innermost self through dance sent a chill racing down your spine.

"Following me?" you repeated. "Why on earth would you do that?"

"I've been seeing you around a lot lately, and...well, I wanted to know where you disappear to all the time," he admitted as he met your gaze.

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement at Sebastian's confession. "You've been following me?" you repeated incredulously, a small smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "That's a bit...stalkerish, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I guess it does sound kind of creepy," Sebastian chuckled nervously, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You shook your head in amusement, your grip on your wand loosening slightly. "Well, you certainly have a knack for getting yourself into trouble," you remarked dryly, a playful glint in your eyes.

Since your arrival at Hogwarts, whispers about Sebastian have been a constant presence, from rumours about his troubled family to tales of him supposedly sneaking into the restricted section of the library under the cover of night. He's become somewhat of a school-wide fascination, and even you couldn't deny your own curiosity about him, especially after your duel in class. The intensity of his gaze afterwards left a lasting impression, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but know more about him, even asking Natsai, who warned you with a shake of her head to steer clear of his apparent troubles.

You lower your wand, "Lucky for you, I'm not in the mood to turn you into a toad today. As long as you don't tell a soul about this place."

Sebastian let out a sigh of relief. "Trust me, my lips are sealed," he assured you, his tone earnest as he watched you lower your wand. "Your secret's safe with me."

You offered him a skeptical look, but a small smile played at the corners of your lips. "I'll hold you to that," you replied, the hint of a challenge in your voice as you set the wand back on the table. "Otherwise, I might just have to challenge you to another duel."

"Ah, I'll have to watch my back then," he chuckled. A silence settled between you, an unknown tension in the air. You both stare at each other, waiting for the other to speak.

"Soooo, what exactly is this place?" he asked, casting a curious glance around.

You paused, considering how much to reveal. "It's called the Room of Requirement," you explained cautiously, "It appears when you need it the most, taking on whatever form you require at that moment."

Sebastian's eyes widened in amazement. "That's incredible," He walks deeper into the room, spotting the potting tables full of dittany and knotgrass. "How did you even find it?"

You follow him with your eyes, finding his curiosity amusing. "It's a bit of a long story," you admitted with a shrug, not wanting to divulge too much.

He caught onto your tone, not prying further. He empathised with your sentiment, having a similar attachment to the Undercroft where Ominis had invited him. It was his sanctuary, a place of safety and solace that he preferred to keep to himself.

As he looked around, Sebastian's curiosity eventually led him to the one question you were dreading. "So, what do you do in here?" he asked, his gaze lingering on you expectantly.

Your heart skipped a beat as you hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. Ballet was a deeply personal part of your life, a connection to your past that you held dear. But it was also a secret, something you kept hidden from the rest of the world.

"I, uh, I practice," you replied evasively. "Just some spells and things."

"Spells, huh?" He raised an eyebrow. "That is definitely not what I saw. Come on, you can tell me."

You felt a pang of uncertainty gnawing at you as you struggled to find the right words. "It's... complicated," you began hesitantly, "Something I've been doing for a long time."

Sebastian's expression softened, sensing your reluctance to share. He takes a few steps towards you. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured you gently, his voice warm and understanding. "You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable."

You offered him a grateful smile, relieved by his understanding. "Thanks, Sebastian," you said sincerely, a weight lifting off your shoulders. "I appreciate that."

Another silence enveloped you both again. Time seemed to stand still as your eyes locked, each searching the other's gaze for answers to unspoken questions. You yearned to understand him better, yet hesitated, uncertain of the emotions stirring within. Unbeknownst to you, he shared similar sentiments. Despite everything happening with his sister Anne and his recent practice with dark magic, he couldn't resist being drawn to you.

A charged tension crackled in the air, palpable and electric. Your breath hitched, pulse quickening from the intensity of his gaze on your features.

"I-I should be heading back to my dorm," you stammered, breaking the silence and avoiding his eyes.

"Yes, you're right," he replied, a slight cough punctuating his words. "It's getting late."

Sebastian lingered for a moment longer, his eyes sweeping over the room one last time before he turned to leave. As he walked towards the door, a sense of reluctance washed over him, a feeling that he couldn't quite shake off.

"Goodnight," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness.

"Goodnight," you replied, your voice equally soft.

And with that, Sebastian slipped out of the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click. Left alone once more, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing lingering in the air, a silent reminder of the bond that had begun to blossom between you.

Hi everyone! This is my first fanfic after a long time! I used to write years ago but lost the passion but found it again after joining the Hogwarts Legacy fandom. I hope you all enjoy reading:) There will be a part 2 but dunno if I should go the smut route or not, let me know what you want!!

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #hogwarts legacy #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow x mc #strangers to lovers #strangers to friends #friends to lovers #hogwarts legacy series #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebflix

27 notes · View notes