#disinfectant gate

[slightly-knot-insane]

Under Your Cold Fingertips

[ m!monster x fem!reader ]

a/n: bodyguard x protégée, fluff and smut, forbidden romance content: nsfw, oral (male and female receiving), p in v, pulling out

"I must rest here a moment, mistress."

The hollow sound of his voice under the helmet is very quiet. He's been walking next to your horse for a while, limping, but insisting he is fine. The snow gathered on his armor and his gray horns were decorated with little crystals.

"Of course!" You hastily unmount, sensing he is unwell.

His armor loudly clanks as he almost falls on the steps beneath the abandoned gate. You hear him breathe heavily and hot. As you look back the way you came, you see droplets of blood branding his every footstep.

"You are badly hurt!" you shout. "You fool, why didn't you tell me?"

He remains silent, his hot breath creating a fog around his head. Maybe you're imagining, but he looks like he's... shaking? Gods...

"Quickly, let's undress you," you order him and kneel in front of him.

"M-mistress..." his metal gauntlets clink as he jerks his arms upwards in shock. "What are you doing? You'll get dirty."

"Shut up," you retort. "I can wash my clothes and shoes. But I can't revive my most loyal bodyguard, can I?"

He doesn't say anything and let's you untie his boots. Meanwhile, he carefully releases buckles below his chin. He removes his helmet slowly but the metal still scrapes against his horns. He is a bit pale and has dark rings surround his eyes. If his sclera wasn't black, you're sure you would see how very bloodshot they are.

You suck air between your teeth. "Your bandages are soaked!" Trying not to harm him further, you carefully start unwrapping the bloodied material.

"Mistress, please! This is highly inappropriate."

You just shoot him a furious glance to shut him up. You barely know anything about wounds or treating them, but the gash is long and bleeding heavily. "This looks bad...", you utter.

"It's fine, I heal fast—" Without waiting him to finish, you quickly get all the necessary things and with his help clean his wound. He hisses as the disinfectant slides down his skin.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper while dabbing around his wound. "You don't deserve this."

A large calloused palm covers your fingers. He is surprisingly gentle. He... never touched you like this before. "Mistress, your hands are cold." Wrapped by his clawed fingers, he brings your hands closer to his mouth and blows onto them. Warm air as white as fog twirls around your heads.

"I—" You wanted to say something, something funny or friendly probably, maybe even witty, but your mind went blank. Or rather, every sensible thought got pushed back by that one idea.

You push yourself between his legs and kiss him. Too shocked to react, he keeps his mouth open like a fish until he grabs you by your shoulders and shakes you. "What are you doing? You can't... We..." He trails off looking at your lips. "We can't..."

"You're bleeding for me and I can't even kiss you?", you ask in an almost growling tone.

Still slightly shocked, he opens his mouth to speak, reconsiders and kisses you instead, tightly embracing you against his chest. And his hard and cold armor but you don't care. All you want are his warm lips and his tongue to shove itself down your throat. But not only that...

You slide down between his legs again, happy that doesn't have heavy plates on his lower body (even though that proved a wrong choice this morning). You quickly loosen his pants and push your hand inside. "This is wrong," he mutters over and over but does nothing to stop you taking his heavy and strange cock into your hands. You always wondered how it looks like. And tastes like.

You take it into your mouth, followed by his low and breathy fuck, and you hum around it as you use your tongue to explore every part of it. Listening to your guardian's moans makes you wet and your cunt clenches around nothing every time he jerks his hips up and thrusts into your mouth. You lick his phallus all over, sucking his tip and tracing his veins until he grabs your wrists and pulls you on him.

You stand above him, many layers of your dress stopping you to make the next step. You lift your skirts and chemise around your waist. "Forgive me," he says before he rips your undergarments and reaches your pussy. He leans forward and slides his tongue along your folds, his nose digging into your bush and soft tissue. He is growling like a hungry animal, devouring your nectar and you tremble above him, panting and gasping as his tongue finds all your secrets.

He pulls you down, onto his lap and you drop all your skirts onto you two. They hide everything that happens between you two and keep you warm at the same time.

There is a strange expression on his face. "Mistress..."

You kiss him before he says something stupid, and guide his cock inside you. Slight pang of pain causes you discomfort, but you can't help but roll your hips looking for pleasure. His arms are under your chemise and his claws dig into your hips. You moan into each others mouths, your breaths and bodies pushing the cold away. You ride his cock and with his help you feel the pulses of your peak building up.

"I'm close", you sob into his neck and he grabs your ass so that he could lift you and fuck you from below. You breath hitches from the force of his dick digging into your cunt and you quickly come undone. He kisses you, savoring your delight, and slides into your pussy slowly but deliberately, prolonging your orgasm as much as he can. He then pulls you onto his chest and positions himself so that he can push his whole cock into you easily. In and out, in and out, faster and faster.

Some outsider wouldn't see a thing happening hidden under those long and dirty skirts. But you could feel the tension of his muscles and his cock swelling inside you. He suddenly pulls out by lifting you like a child's toy and, with a long groan, he cums all over your thighs.

"I wish I saw your cock twitching and spilling," you say while you lay against his breastplate.

Still breathless, he chuckles, but also groans in discomfort. You finally remember. "Your leg!" You jump off his lap and see his leg bleeding again. "You fool! Why did you put me on your lap."

Completely ignoring your scolding, he pulls you down again and you sit like before, your naked cunt against his groin. "Because I don't care about that pain. I dreamed about this for a long time."

"You dreamed about fucking me outside in the cold?", you jab.

He chuckles. "Not exactly in the cold." He kisses your neck and jaw. "But outside, and inside, and in your bed, and in my bed, and against a wall, and on the table, and on the floor, and against a tree..."

As he names all the places he imagined, your pussy throbs against his muscles. "All that sounds lovely. But let's get your leg fixed first before you bleed to death."

He places his forehead against yours. "At least I would bleed for the most amazing woman in the world."

You hit him in the chest, blush overtaking your cheeks. "Shut up, you... fool."

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter one ⭐︎ Waiting Room

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of death and injuries, mention of physical assault (physical fight), head injuries, mention of bruises and scars, mention of Eddie's almost death. pining. allusions to unrequited love. enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort. lots and lots of tension. slow burn. also, instead of writing summaries, I will name each chapter after a song that fits the vibe of each chapter. Also, mentioning this again, her nickname has nothing to do with her hair color.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 6.9k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult you know I will mention you in every chapter, so don't even try to fight me. Thanks for coming up with all these ideas with me mwah! — This is only the beginning, guys. This story will progress into something much more intense after chapter four or five, I can’t wait to share this one with you and get into the good and spicy stuff hehe!

Read the prologue first!

series masterlist ⭐︎ next chapter

♡

Your body was aching and everything inside of you was screaming at you to not open your eyes just yet, you felt as though you were being dragged out of it. All your limbs were hurting, your skin aching, your head was pounding. You could not begin to describe the pain even if you tried, it was unlike anything you had felt before. Your memory was lost, at least that’s what it felt like for the first few seconds. 

Then they started coming back slowly. 

From the gate in the water, to Steve being pulled under.

From the bats trying to bite chunks of his skin to you doing everything in your power to save him. 

From the creepy old Creel house, to Max offering herself as the bait. 

As pictures of her flashed in your mind, you suddenly started to register the smell – the disinfectant, the disgusting smell of hospital. You heard the beeping of the machines next to you, and you felt the wires attached to your body. 

You tried to press your lips together, though tears burned in your eyes when the crack in your lip stung. 

You moved your hand as you slowly opened your eyes to bright lights shining into the room you were in. You squinted them, trying to adjust to the light and the vision in front of you, it took you a moment, everything was still so blurry. 

From the corner of your eye, you could see a mop of dark curls. You slowly moved your head to the left side, restraining a groan when you felt a flash of pain in your head. You blinked a few times, taking in the sight of a bruised and battered Eddie, who was looking down at his rings, twisting and playing with them nervously. 

“Eddie?” You said and only then you felt how dry your throat had felt, how raspy your voice had sounded and how much it was aching. 

You did not notice the movement on your right side.

He straightened up as he lifted his head so suddenly, eyes wide as he looked into yours. Relief flashed his face and a smile appeared on his lips.

“Oh thank god.. Hi sweetheart.. slept well?” 

You stared at him for a good long minute, trying to figure out what had happened to him. By the developing scars on his face and the white bandage around his neck, you had an idea of what had gotten to him. 

Was he on the brink of death just like you had been? 

By the look in his eyes, you could tell that he was. 

“Huh… I’m not dead?” 

He shook his head, eyes filled with relief, “gladly no.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, “well, shucks,” you sighed, like you didn’t fight for your life back at the Creel house. 

Eddie sighed but chuckled, understanding your dark humor better than anyone else – despite only knowing you for a few days. 

A cough finally fell from your lips when you tried to sit up, though losing the strength to, you fell back again.

Eddie instantly reached for the water bottle on the table next to you, pouring some into the plastic cup before he carefully placed it into your hand, trying not to touch the bruises on your knuckles. 

You thanked him with a small smile before you lifted the cup to your lips with shaky hands. 

“Careful,” Eddie whispered as he watched you.

You nodded and closed your eyes as you took a sip of the water, welcoming the feeling of the coldness in your dry throat, you took a few sips before you handed him back the cup. 

“How long was I out?”

The sigh from your right side startled you a little, with furrowed brows, you turned to look only to be caught off guard. 

Steve Harrington.

With his arms crossed, he stood by the window, staring at you with an unreadable look on his face. He took you in, eyes glaring at the wounds on your skin. 

“You had to have surgery. There–... There was a deep concussion in your head and a vessel popped. If they didn’t do it quickly you..” He could not bring himself to finish that sentence, he clenched his jaw and looked down at his hands. 

Your heart fluttered at the sight of him. 

Even in this current state, you could not help but smirk cheekily, though it dropped the moment it appeared when you suddenly could feel all the bruises on your face. Your eyes watered and a wince fell from your lips. 

Steve lifted his head at the sound. 

And Eddie straightened up. 

“Don’t move your face too much, sweets.. It’s…” He stopped as he felt anger and sadness hit him all at once. 

He did not want to tell you how bad it really was – how your skin was bruised, how puffy your eyes were. 

You closed your eyes again and laid your head back. 

“Ah, he got me good, didn’t he?” 

Steve swallowed harshly. 

He pushed away the pain from seeing you like this and cleared his throat. He licked his lips and leaned closer. 

“Yeah, but you got him better.” 

You frowned at his words, not quite understanding. 

Eddie glared at him, not knowing how you would take the news so soon. 

“Huh?”

Steve ignored the look in Eddie’s eyes, he kept his on you. 

“Jason’s dead. He fell onto broken wood… that impaled him.”

Oh. 

Flashes of the night came in a blur. 

The fight. 

His rough hands as he hit you, over and over again, as he held you down and wrapped his merciless fingers around your throat, aiming for the kill. 

You felt your heart beating a little faster at the memory, how scared you were when he pointed a gun at Lucas before you stepped in between them, knowing that he could have shot you, right then and there. How much it hurt when he sliced your cheek open with the stupid ring on his finger as he delivered the first punch, how close to death you were when he choked you. You saw the look in his eyes, the rage, as he called you a traitor for protecting ‘the killer’ of your friend. Tears of frustration and anger fell from your eyes when you almost lost the fight – Lucas’s screams as he called out to Max urged you to fight back, and you did, you used every last bit of your strength to throw him off of you and pushed him away. 

Pushed him into his death. 

You do not feel bad. – Max could have died because of him. He would have killed Lucas. He wanted to kill you. 

“Good,” you murmured as you blinked the tears away that formed in your eyes again, “he was going to kill the kids.. He had a gun.. He had a gun, Steve.”

It was almost weird to hear you call him by his name. 

He instantly rushed to your side and reached for your hand, something that neither of you would ever think back to again. 

“Yeah, and you saved them. Listen, you can’t talk much, you need to heal, Blondie.”

Right. The ache in your neck was not from the lack of water, it was from the bruises, from almost being strangled to death.

“Everything else is being taken care of,” he said as he squeezed your hand. 

You ignored the feeling in your chest and turned to look at Eddie. 

“And you?” 

“Well, you are looking at a free man! A free man that was targeted by Victor Creel himself after he got out of Pennhurst. I trespassed into his home many times and he had a vendetta against me or some shit.”

You felt relief rushing through you. 

Though, you saw the hurt behind his eyes, knowing he had to lie about seeing Creel killing Chrissy. 

He did not want to put the blame on somebody else, he knew what it had felt like to be accused of something he hadn’t done – but there was no other option, he had no choice, he wasn’t given one. People of power had told him what to do. In return, he got his name cleared and had been given a good amount of money for ‘the troubles’. Money that he could live off from for the rest of his life.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Eddie.” 

He smiled at your words, nodding. 

“What happened to you?” 

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Steve. 

“He played hero when he shouldn’t have.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes at him. 

Hero. There wasn’t only one hero that night. 

Almost in panic, you straightened up. 

“Where’s Max?” 

Steve put his hand on yours again, giving it a pat as he tried to calm you down, though all he gave you was shivers running down your spine from his touch. 

“Healing. He broke one arm and one leg, but she is awake. Robin is with her, she’s been waiting for you to wake up.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, the weight in your shoulders fell just like that. You felt like crying, but you wouldn’t do it here, in front of them. 

“And everyone else?”

You took in the sight of him, properly this time. 

There were dark circles beneath his eyes, tiredness in his face.

You didn’t know what prompted you to do this, maybe it was the high anesthetic in your system or a spur of the moment – but you lifted your hand, reached out to him to graze your fingertips against his neck, on the mark where the tail of a demobat almost strangled him. 

He did not pull away, but he stared at you with wide eyes, blushing at your action.  

“I-I’m fine.. Everyone else is too,” he said and cleared his throat. 

A scoff on your left pulled you back and you removed your hand from Steve’s neck to look over at Eddie. 

“Speak for yourself, I have like forty stitches all over my body.”

How he managed to joke about that while he was still in so much pain? You did not know. But then again, you were just the same. 

He spared you the details when he began to talk about what happened in the upside down. Steve did not want to revive the story again, seemingly not handling the thought of his new friend dying so cruelly. He left and told you that he’d come back later. 

As Eddie was telling you about the swarm of bats, you felt the pain in your chest, just like when you had found out about Chrissy, just like when you had found out about him. 

Eddie was a new addition to your life, you two are barely even friends, though you do not know how you would handle the news of him not making it. 

“I’m happy you’re here.”

Eddie’s eyes softened, though a smirk tugged at his lips. 

“Going soft on me now, sweets?” He chuckled, surprised to hear such words from you. “Or are you still on drugs? Where’s the little ol’ meanie, I kinda liked her.” 

A pained chuckle fell from your lips. 

“She’ll be back in no time, don’t you worry.”

Your laughter died down when you thought of the way he looked at you. 

Judging by all the pain you were still feeling, you knew that you looked awful. 

“How bad do I look? Be honest, please.”

Eddie shook his head with a pained look on his face. He looked down for a moment. His eyes flashed with anger and sadness. 

“Bad, sweetheart. When we found out that Jason did this to you.. We wanted to revive him only to kill him again,” he said angrily. “Steve wanted to rip his corpse apart, that’s what Robin told me.”

For a moment, you felt cheerful and your eyes had softened. 

For a moment you had thought that he cared. 

But Eddie quickly pulled you back into reality after shattering that illusion. 

“He saw what he did to Lucas, it’s not as bad as you but.. fuck. He was going to kill Max too.”

Steve was angry at Jason because of the teens, not because of what he did to you, never because of you. He wouldn’t have cared if you bleed out on the ground in the Creel house. He wouldn’t have cared if you died. 

You focused on Eddie, on the anger in his features – it made your eyes soften, knowing that you found another friend, one that you should probably protect from the curse that you are. 

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I can walk now..”

You frown, tilting your head at him before you look down at yourself. 

“How long have I been out?” You asked when you realized that Steve had never answered your question. 

“You’ve been out for a whole week, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened, you dug your hands into the mattress and pushed yourself up. 

“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie raised his hands as he tried to stop you from sitting up. 

“W-What, oh my god, my sister must be worried!” 

He put his hand on your arm, gently – you had noticed it before, how careful he had been to touch you, like he was afraid of hurting you, like you were something fragile. 

“Yeah, about that–” He never got to finish his sentence as the door burst open and your sister stormed inside the room. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of her, not because you were surprised or confused to see her here, but because it’s been two months since you had last seen her. Besides the concerned look on her face, she was glowing – maybe it was the pregnancy or maybe it was just the fact that she has been much happier since leaving Hawkins behind. 

“Hi hi, honey! Are you okay?” 

That day she had the same concern in her voice as she does now while she talks your ear off about how important it is to go to all your checkups at the Hospital. She is calling every day, just to remind you – and to check on you. 

You are fine. Just fine. 

You survived an attack, you survived surgery, you survived. You made a good recovery and you are getting better each day. Besides, Eddie and Max are on your back about the check-ups just as much, you have no choice but to go to them. 

You’re holding the telephone between your ear and your shoulder as you finish touching up your make up, applying some gloss to your lips before you pick up the brush one more time and carefully go through your hair, trying not to hurt yourself, your head starts hurting at every slightest touch and it’s beginning to frustrate you. 

“I’m telling you, this baby is going to be a little runner.” 

“Is she still kicking?” 

Your sister huffs before she laughs, “she is kicking all the time, sis.”

You smile as you take the telephone and walk towards your window, leaning against the wall as you wait for the Impala to pull up in your driveway. 

“I can’t wait to meet her. I never held a baby before.”

“Well, you’re about to – give it a few more weeks and you’ll turn into an auntie in no time.”

“I am already an auntie,” you chuckle. “How could you forget little Luna? She was your first child.” 

You remember how devastated you were when she took the black cat with her as she moved out of your parents house and left the town, for good. You begged her to leave the cat with you, put on your best puppy face but she wouldn’t have it, it was her cat, after all. 

“Right, sorry sorry.” She laughs. 

You hear rustling in the back and a moment later, a loud crunch sounds through the phone. You don’t have to ask to know what she’s eating. Chips. She is always eating salted chips, now even more so than before. 

“What are you doing today?” She asks with a mouthful. 

Looking down at your outfit, you place your palm on your new denim shorts before you slide your fingers into the pocket. 

“I’m going to a barbecue in a few,” you say. “Max basically forced me to come.”

“Wait, you’re not driving yourself, are you?”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as a huff falls from your lips. 

You’re not allowed to drive, not yet. Your vision gets blurry sometimes, and you get light headed very easily. Your doctor said that it would pass, but it’s been two weeks since you had been released from the hospital and it hasn’t passed yet. 

Jason truly did a number on you. 

“No, don’t worry. My friends would kill me if I even tried–”

“Don’t say that word,” she cuts you off with a stern voice. “But I agree with them.”

You snort. 

“Anyways, Eddie is picking me up.”

Silence follows for a good thirty seconds before she continues eating her chips. You can practically hear her thoughts, you already know what she’s about to say next. 

“Eddie. He was the cute one with the long hair, right?” She asks, innocently. “The one who brought you chocolate and magazines?” 

Rolling your eyes at her teasing voice, you push yourself away from the wall when you see the black Impala pulling up to your house. 

“Don’t even,” you sigh, scrunching up your face in annoyance. 

She has been waiting, waiting for years for you to finally have a crush on someone, to fall in love, go on dates and get a boyfriend. 

Though, unlike her, you weren’t exactly popular – maybe it was your own fault, but that’s beside the point. Your sister loved having crushes and going on dates. She loved falling in love. 

You? Not so much. 

Love has only brought you pain. 

And you never cared much for dating – not even for fun. You don’t mind being on your own, loving someone from afar and in secret, for probably the rest of your life. 

“What’s wrong with him? Isn’t he super sweet?” She asks. “He brought you chocolate, sat by your side and you seem to like him–”

“Yeah, as a friend.” 

“Oh,” she sighs, humming. “Yeah, you never liked the nice guys, did you?” 

She got you there. Well, kind of. He is nice. He is nice to everyone, but to you. 

“What about the other guy then? What was his name again… Steve?” 

Just the mention of his name has shivers running down your spine, your heart fluttering and your skin crawling in tingles. 

You feel your cheeks glowing but you roll your eyes at the stupid giddiness that you feel, everytime you think of him.

“Mhmm, Steve.” 

“Huh.” You could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “What about him?”

If she only knew. 

Eddie honks the car horn, giving you the perfect excuse to hang up the phone. You walk back to your dresser, putting the phone down. 

“Anyways, I love you, sis. But a very hungry Eddie is waiting for me in the driveway.”

You know that he is hungry, he is always hungry, always eating away all the snacks and stealing leftover fries from everyone’s plates, no matter how much he had eaten already.

“Have fun with uh Steve! Love you, mwah, bye!”

You roll your eyes once again as you hang up the phone. 

Steve and Fun in one sentence just doesn’t sound right. That guy would rather stay miserable for the rest of his life than even try to have fun with you. 

He can’t stand you. 

And well, you can’t stand him either. – At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself, all while knowing that it’s very much a lie, but how else would you stay sane?

You quickly make your way down the stairs, reaching for your keys and your sunglasses on the way out. You skip down the porch steps. You tap the hood of his car before you get into the passenger seat. 

Eddie is already grinning at you, waving his fingers at you. 

“Hey sexy.” 

His brows shoot up and a smirk tugs at his lips. He playfully eyes you up and down. 

You close the door and sit back, greeting him with a mocking smirk. 

“Hello to you too, sweets,” he says in a low and deep voice – one that almost has you laughing. 

“Oh, I wasn’t greeting you,” you say, nonchalantly. “I was talking to Arwen,” you gesture to his beloved, new car, that he of course named after a Lord of the rings character. 

“But, hi Eddie.”

A loud laugh leaves his lips, his brown eyes twinkle with amusement. He grabs the gearstick, shaking his head at you. 

“You ready for some heavy metal heaven?” 

You put on your sunglasses and fasten the seatbelt after he points at you with a stern look on his face. 

“Sure,” you snort, knowing that the drive to the Sinclair house will be anything but uneventful. When Eddie isn’t singing and bobbing his head to the music, he’s shouting over it, telling you a story that he can’t wait to get off his chest. 

Your friendship with him is something you didn’t see coming. You tried to push him away, knowing how your friendships with people you care about usually end, but he wouldn’t have it. He kept coming back, just like Robin, just like the teens. 

You don’t understand why. 

What’s there about you that they want you around so bad? 

You’re never in a happy mood, you’re never entertaining, you don’t bring anything into the friend group. You don’t get along with most people – by most people you only mean Steve Harrington. 

You wonder if it’s because you almost died and they’d feel guilty to exclude you after helping them or if Max forces them to accept you into a friend group you never even wanted to be part of. 

“How’s your head doing?” Eddie asks as he drives on Maple Street. 

“Good, s’not hurting anymore.” You lie. 

He knows. 

Eddie sees the way you react to bright lights, the way you scrunch up your nose a little whenever the sun shines into your eyes or the way you rest your hand against the nearest wall when you seem to get dizzy. 

“When’s your next check-up?” 

He sounds just as concerned as your sister does, it makes you laugh a little. 

Who would have thought that Eddie could be so caring? 

“Tomorrow, 3pm.”

“Want me to drive you?”

You shake your head, “no, it’s fine. I’ll take the bus.”

He scoffs, shooting you a glare as he pulls up into the driveway, parking his car behind the burgundy BMW. 

“You think I’ll let you take the bus? I’ll drive you and then we’ll get burgers.” 

You unbuckle your seatbelt, chuckling as you turn to him, “okay, dad.” 

“Shut up,” he grumbles at you with a glare. 

Laughing at the look on his face, you get out of the car and make your way over to the house. Eddie bumps his shoulder into yours, tilting his head down, he looks at your heart shaped sunglasses. 

“Where’d you get these?” He asks, pointing at them. 

“Macy’s, why? You want some too?” 

“What if I do?” He asks, ringing the doorbell. 

“Then we’ll get you some pink ones.” 

A smirk tugs at his lips, “hell yeah.” 

Robin opens the door with an excited smile on her face, grinning when she sees you. 

“Hi!” She beams at you. “Come on in.” She steps aside, lifting her arm as she waits for you both to step inside. 

You walk in first, and as you do, Robin pulls you into a hug, greeting you once more. 

“Hey,” you mumble as you slowly lift your arms to hug her back. 

Eddie chuckles at the confused frown on your face, he follows inside and closes the door. 

“C’mon, Steve is already bitching about you two being late.” 

And just like that, your heart jumps a little. You hate yourself a little in these moments. 

Pushing your sunglasses up on your head, you and Eddie follow her out into the garden. 

You can hear the music outside, laughter and Steve’s stern voice as he scolds Dustin, as always. The smell of smoke lingers in the air and as you step outside, you catch sight of Steve, standing behind the grill, with one hand on his hip and the other pointing at Dustin with the grill tong. 

His hair is messy, a spit curl falling before his eyes. He is wearing his black sunglasses, green khaki pants, a gray tank top,– oh god. This is going to be a long day. 

You swallow as you tear your eyes away from him, looking around with squinted eyes, the sun is harsh and you instantly put your sunglasses back on.

“Are the Sinclair’s around?” You ask, meaning Lucas’s and Erica’s parents. 

Robin shakes her head, “no, they’re out in Indianapolis until tomorrow, Steve is probably gonna stay the night.”

You nod. 

You hear your name being called and you turn to your right to see Lucas waving at you with a smile on his face. He is sitting on the lounger Max is laying on, still with casts on her leg and her arm. She pushes herself up on her elbows, looking in your direction, a smile appears on her face and she greets you just as kindly as her boyfriend did. 

Robin leaves your side, walking towards Dustin who plays with his new, portable Stereo. 

As you pass by Steve, he turns around to greet Eddie with a smile and you with nothing more than a nod and low grumble, “Blondie.” 

Whenever he seems moody or pissed off, you feel the urge to make it even worse. And you do, every single time. 

You walk around him and look at the meat on the grill, whining.

“I don’t eat meat.”

He turns to you, eyes growing wide at your words. He didn’t know. And he already feels guilty for not asking you first. He pushes his sunglasses up into his hair as an apologetic look crosses his face. 

“Fuck… I-I didn’t know–” he stops when he notices the smug look on your face and hears Eddie chuckle over his shoulder. 

He should’ve known. 

With a groan, he rolls his eyes and pushes his sunglasses back down as he turns back to the grill. 

“Hey Eddie!” Dustin calls out to him, already grinning at Steve. “Check this out!” 

“Don’t you dare, Dustin–” Robin gets cut off by a scream as it blasts from the stereo. She smacks him lightly on his head, yelling at him to turn it off. 

Eddie laughs loudly, leaving yours and Steve’s side. 

“Jesus christ,” Steve mumbles, scrunching his face up at the music. “That shrimp has been doing that all day. Eddie really is a bad influence.” 

“Aw, poor Steve,” you pout at him, “are you mad that you can’t listen to Madonna?” 

He scoffs at you, though he doesn’t say anything and focuses on the sizzling burgers as he turns them over. 

You press your lips together, ignoring the tugging in your chest or the feeling in your stomach as you use his distraction to look at him. 

It’s only nearing the end of April, but it already feels like the beginning of summer. Steve’s skin is already sun kissed. You hide your eyes behind your sunglasses as you ogle him. Taking in the sight of his veiny hands, his arms that have just the perfect amount of muscle, his chest hair that you always tease him for, the silver chain around his neck. 

You swallow. 

Cursing inwardly when you feel your stomach fluttering. 

He turns to face you again, totally catching you and your staring. 

Fuck. 

“Like what you see?” He smirks down at you. 

You bite the inside of your cheeks, trying not to blush under his gaze. 

He is feeling smug. Not because he likes you staring at him, but because he’s been waiting for a moment to embarrass you with something. 

He expects you to stutter, to step back and answer his question with a shaky and squeaky voice, because that is what he must be used to, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You take a step closer to him, biting your lip as you eye him up and down. 

You can tell that it catches him off guard a little, but unlike you, he isn’t blushing. 

“Yeah, actually,” you whisper and put your hand on his shoulder as you lean closer to the small table where he left his coke. You wrap your hand around the can, it’s cold against your palm and you hum in satisfaction as you raise it up to your lips, taking a sip of his drink. “Mmmh, perfect.” 

You turn around, and walk away without another word, leaving him huffing and glaring at you. 

You fail to notice or feel his eyes on you, the way they rake down your body, the way he licks his lips before he forces his eyes away from you. 

You greet Lucas and Max properly, hugging the latter before you take a seat on the lounger next to her, choosing the one that is half in the shadow, so you can hide your face from the sun. 

You easily fall into a conversation with the teens. You had always been close with Max, even before you were dragged into all of this. 

Being friends with her, also brought Lucas into your life. Unlike Dustin, who is always somehow trying to get on your nerves by teasing you with crushes that don’t exist or annoying you like a younger brother would do, Lucas is always very kind. 

“I can’t wait for you to get your car back.” 

Chuckling at Lucas’s words, you take off your sunglasses and put them down beside you. 

“Why’s that?” 

“So you can drive us around again,” he shrugs as he flashes you a smile. 

“Are Steve and Eddie not good enough for you?” You snort. 

Max scoffs loudly, rolling her eyes as she turns to you. 

“Steve is always whining about something!” 

“Yeah, and Eddie drives like a maniac,” Lucas groans, throwing his hands up. 

Max purses her lips, looking down at her cast. 

“Yeah, like your girlfriend,” you laugh, glancing at Lucas. “I wonder who will teach her how to drive properly.” 

“First of all, I don’t drive like a maniac,” says Max. “Second, why don’t you teach me how to drive?” 

You raise your brows at her, shaking your head, “sorry girl, but I am not a good teacher.” 

“But you’re like a big sister to me, you’re supposed to teach me,” she teases, though she looks at you with her best puppy eyes. “Besides, we can take Billy’s car.”

Shaking your head at her, you lay your head back and close your eyes, “don’t even try, Max. We’ll both end up in a ditch, we barely made it out last time.” 

She snorts at your words while Lucas looks between the two of you with disapproval on his face. 

“I’m starting to think that neither of you should ever drive again.” 

“I actually agree with you,” Robin chimes in as she joins the three of you. “I’ve heard of Max’s driving skills and uh… you lady,” she points at you, moving your legs to the side as she takes a seat on your lounder, “are danger in person.” 

“Me?” You gasp, putting your hand on your chest. 

“Yeah, you!” 

Steve watches you from afar, ignoring the heavy metal music and the curly heads behind him, who are going crazy over a song he just can’t find a liking to. 

He watches you – the way you crack a smile and shake your head with an amused look on your face. 

He watches you talk to the teens and to his best friend, easily falling into conversations. He rarely sees you like this – smiling and carefree. You’re usually always tense, annoyed and wearing a permanent frown on your face. Mostly around him. 

Steve will never know what it’s like to have a normal conversation with you, to see you smiling at him, not in a teasing way, in a real way. He is not sure if he ever even saw a real smile on your face – not even the one you are wearing now is real. 

But, why does he even care? You two have never gotten along, you hated each other, at first glance. 

With a sigh, he turns off the grill. He carries the tray filled with food over to where everyone is sitting, motioning for Eddie and Dustin to follow. 

Steve walks past you, not paying attention to how close he is to you, he accidentally bumps you in the head with the corner of the tray. He doesn’t even notice that he did – not until, you duck your head down and raise your hand to touch the side of your head. 

Max snaps her head up at him with a glare on her face. Lucas freezes when he sees how angry she is. 

He looks down at you, to see you looking up at him already. 

“I’m sorry..” He murmurs. 

You don’t speak, instead you look up at him with big eyes and a pained look on your face. 

“Oh come on, I barely even touched you,” he says, nervously. 

Eddie and Robin glance at each other, confused and worried. 

He rolls his eyes at you, knowing that this is another one of your little games that you always play, whenever you get bored. 

“Are you fucking with me again?”

Max shoots out of her seat, almost falling over due to the cast on her leg, her cheeks grow red in anger as her eyes burn into Steve. 

“Her head! You hit her head, you stupid idiot!” She points at him with rage in her voice. 

Steve’s eyes widen as deep guilt rushes through him, he instantly drops the tray on the table before he crouches down in front of you, shakily laying his palm on your shoulder as Max continues to curse at him. 

He wasn’t thinking. He didn’t think of that. 

“S-Shit,” he mumbles, looking at you apologetically. 

How could he forget? The doctor told you how sensitive you would be at every slightest touch to your head, how every slightest bump could cause nausea, dizziness or even a migraine. He was there, he heard him say it loud and clearly, yet he forgot.

Only now does he notice the hurt in your eyes as you place your palm over your ear – your ear that is ringing, for a moment it feels as though you’ve been pulled under water, and still you hear Max yelling at Steve. 

It’s not his fault, it was an accident. 

“Max! It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t do it on purpose! J-Just fuck…” You curse at the pain, not even recognizing your own voice for a moment. Who would’ve thought that you would be this sensitive? You feel his hand on your shoulder, maybe it eases the pain a little, or maybe it’s just the comfort that you feel from only his touch. 

“I-I’m gonna get you some ice,” Steve mumbles and rushes into the house, with Eddie following close behind. 

He throws his sunglasses on the counter and huffs in frustration as he tugs at his hair. He opens the freezer and gets an ice pack out. 

“Steve–”

“Fuck, Eddie. I didn’t know, I thought she was fucking with me again,” he stammers, wrapping the icepack into a cloth. “She always does this a-and I wasn’t thinking of the fucking injury.”

Steve is cursing at himself and at Jason who caused all of this, who did this to you. 

Eddie takes a step closer to him, placing his hand on his shoulder, trying to calm his friend down. 

“Steve,” he sighs but he won’t look at him. “You didn’t know, i-it’s just a migraine, nothing else–”

“Nothing else?” Steve scoffs, frowning at Eddie. 

How could this be nothing else? He caused you pain with the slightest touch, something that reminded you of what you had been through, only a few weeks back. And he might have just triggered even more than a migraine, he might have triggered some thoughts to come back that you tried to not think of. 

He rushes back out to you. 

When you see him, you are already reaching for the ice pack, waving your hand at him to give it to you but he pulls it back, not handing it to you. 

You huff in annoyance, looking at him in disbelief. 

Max is standing with a hand on her hip, extending her arm as well as she glares at him in annoyance. 

Lucas and Dustin glance at each other, like they are afraid to move or even say anything as they quietly eat their food. 

“Lego head, give me the ice pack–”

He startles you a little by sitting down right behind you, “where do I press?” He asks. 

You’re taken aback by his words and his action, you’re taken aback by his touch. 

“Huh?”

“Where do I press the ice pack?” He asks again, breathing down your neck. 

You glance up at Max, she raises her eyebrows at you. Normally, she is the one who helps you, sometimes it’s Eddie or Robin, but Steve? Steve never helped you. 

She eyes Steve and the look in his eyes, the guilt and the pain from hurting someone when normally, he tries to do everything in his power to protect people, even the ones that he doesn’t like. 

With a sigh, she slowly sits down. 

Despite the pain that is pulsating in your head, you feel shivers running down your spine when Steve moves your hair to the side, his fingertips grazing your skin. 

“Where?”

“I uh–... here,” you mumble, quietly as you point to the spot where it hurts the most. 

“Okay,” he whispers and scoots even closer to you, he presses the ice pack against the back of your head. 

You sigh and relax a little, closing your eyes as you welcome the coldness. 

Your heart flutters in your chest when he presses his free hand on your shoulder, touching you gently. 

“Max, you should eat something,” Robin says, trying to smile at the angry teen. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna heal faster if you eat a burger,” Eddie grins, trying to ease the tension as he hands her the plate. 

“A burger will help me heal, really?” She scrunches her face up but grabs the plate, nonetheless. 

“Yeah, actually. It’ll give you some of the strength back,” Dustin winks at her before he takes a bite of his burger. 

She snorts, shaking her head at them. 

You listen to your friends chatter as you keep your eyes closed. Tilting your head to the side, you lean back slightly, – wishing you could just lean into him. You can sense how tense he is, you are almost certain that you can hear his thoughts, how he is cursing at himself for this, for hurting someone – even if it’s just you. 

“Stop stressing about it, Harrington. It’s nothing,” you sigh, trying to ease some of his tension. 

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head, “You and Eddie, I swear if you keep saying this is nothing..” He huffs in frustration. 

Not only does he hate all of this – he also hates the feeling of your soft skin beneath his touch, the smell of your perfume, the smell of your body wash that he is close enough to smell – and fuck, does it smell good, good enough to make his stomach feel all weird again. 

You try to chuckle, though he can tell that it’s pained. 

“What, you worried about me, Lego head? Thought I didn’t affect your life at all?” You ask smugly, as though it’s a joke to you. 

Your words feel like a punch to his gut, even though he was the one who said these words to you, it hurts for some reason, because maybe, these words aren’t true in the slightest. 

You might not be someone important to him, you might not be special to him. 

Yet it doesn’t change the feeling he had felt in his gut when he found out that you were on the brink of death, that night. When he saw you in the hospital room hours after your surgery, how lost and empty he had felt when he saw the state you were in. How he sat beside you for hours before the nurses finally kicked him out and told him to go home and rest. 

He clenches his jaw.

“Yes, I’m worried,” he huffs. “So shut up because you will make it worse, Blondie.” He says with full expectation to hear some smartass comment back from you. 

But you stay quiet, fully quiet. 

You open your eyes and you look down at your hands in sadness. 

You wish he didn’t say that to you. You wish he kept the hate comments instead, that he left you with the idea of hating you completely, not showing an ounce of worry towards you. Because this is ruining you. The act of kindness is completely destroying you, and he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t feel it either. 

You really are hopeless. 

>> next chapter

[sara-scribbles]

The Littlest Dragon (Part 1)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/GN!Reader Summary: Your quiet life as a herbalist is disrupted when you take in an injured dragon Word Count: 5,768 Notes: I just really want a mini-dragon Warnings: None

Part 1, Part 2 Part 3

You almost mistake the bundle of black for a pile of cloth. Upon closer inspection, you can see shiny obsidian scales that shimmer in the light. The creature is larger than a squirrel but smaller than a house cat. Unsure what to do, you approach him cautiously but he doesn’t move.

Gently turning him over, your eyes widen. “A dragon?” Despite his small size, he has definite features of the powerful beasts just squished together in a smaller form.

A quick once over, you can see a twisted front leg and one wing bent at an odd angle. The creature's chest moves up and down but you can almost make out a pained gasp. Making a snap decision, you carefully wrap the dragon in your coat before rushing back home. Your half filled basket of herbs forgotten.

Bursting through the gate, you startle the three chickens resting nearby. The cluck loudly as you give a quick apology. Setting the dragon down on your table inside the cottage, you wash your hands before grabbing what you need.

Setting the armload of potions, salves and bandages, you get to work patching up the dragon. Thankfully the little guy stays passed out throughout the process. You clean and disinfect the wounds before applying salves. You create a makeshift splint for the front leg and wing. After finally satisfied, you slump down in a chair.

Watching the creature curiously, you decide to let him rest until he wakes up. You aren’t sure about the healing rate of dragons let alone such a small one.

Resting your cheek on the table, you gently stroke the top of his head. You’re fascinated by the two horns that curl back into his head. “I didn’t realize they could be so small,” you mumble.

Letting out a deep sigh, you take the dragon upstairs to your bedroom. You place a pillow on a chair in the corner of your room and set him down. Recalling a lesson on dragons, you bundle a spare blanket around him for a makeshift nest. Leaving the creature to rest, you return downstairs to clean up.

---

A few days go by but the dragon remains asleep. You periodically check in on him to change the dressings and reapply the salves. You’re happy to say the wounds are healing nicely. However, you’re starting to worry if the dragon will ever wake up.

It’s the middle of the night when you’re roused from sleep. Blearily opening your eyes, you meet the deep green gaze of the dragon. He stands on the pillow next to your own. His tongue flicks out making you flinch.

“Oh, you’re finally awake,” you mutter. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sit up, which causes the dragon to step back. “How’d you even get over here?” You finally notice the bandages on the wing missing, but he seems perfectly fine.

He tilts his head to one side. Dragons are said to be intelligent creatures, you recall. “Do you want something to eat? I assume you’re probably hungry after sleeping for five days.”

Without waiting for an answer, you get out of bed and head downstairs with the little creature flying after you. You manage to make a simple plate of beef and vegetables. Watching the dragon attack the meal with such ferocity, you realize he must have been starving despite seeming so calm. Once he finishes the meal, he sits back with his claws on his stomach.

“Satisfied?” You chuckle as you notice food all over his face. He stays completely still as you clean his face.

Leaning an elbow on the table, you both stare at each other. “So… what do I call you?” He only lets out a gurgling of growls in response. “How about Tsunotarou?” He seems to nod as if your silly name is an acceptable one for a dragon.

“Well, it seems like your wing is healed, but your front leg still needs a bit of time. If you want, you can stay here until then,” you offer.

He says something you don’t understand once more, but looks satisfied as he decides to perch on your shoulder. “Alright, let's go back to bed. I have an early morning.” Yawning, you head back upstairs for some sleep.

---

You live in a cottage away from others. It was a gift from your late parents. Small but cozy, you don’t mind the solitude. In the front, you have a chicken coop with three hens. You also have a small barn for your goat, Phillis. In the back, your garden grows a few vegetables, fruits and herbs. The woods nearby provide you with wild herbs and berries. Anything else you need, you can go into town or ask Ace and Deuce to bring them.

As a herbalist, you create salves and potions, which you sell in town once a week. Unlike most herbalists, you lack magic. However, that’s never stopped you from doing your job. Plus you were taught by the best of the best, so the quality of your work is great. 

The usual day consists of you getting up early to feed the chickens and goat. Then you take stock of your inventory. After, you usually head into the woods to gather herbs. The rest of the day consists of brewing potions and salves, and tending to the garden. At night, you make dinner, make sure the chickens are in their coop, and do some light reading before bed. Rinse and repeat.

It may seem dull to most, but you enjoy the routine. Sometimes your day is broken up by a visit from Ace and Deuce, an adventuring duo, who you’ve known since school. They argue and fight, but ultimately work well as a team when needed. Their antics never fail to make your day entertaining.

Today when you get up, the dragon follows you. In the kitchen you make a breakfast of eggs and a fruit bowl. It seems Tsunotarou isn’t too picky on what you feed him as he gobbles everything up. After a quick cleanup, you and your new companion head outside. Your three chickens are already awake. They strut around the front yard as you grab a bag of feed.

“Alright, ladies, time for breakfast,” you call. Sprinkling the food, the three descend near you in a flurry of white and brown feathers.

Tsunotarou, who perched himself on your shoulder, leans forward watching in rapt interest. “Do you want to try to feed them?” you ask, holding the bag of feed up.

Using his good claw, he picks up a small handful before tossing them in the air. Most of the feed falls on the ground, though some does fall on the chickens. “Maybe aim a little more toward the ground,” you chuckle.

The three start trying to eat the feed off each other's backs, which causes a lot of squawking. One pecks another on the head rather viciously. “Flora, that’s not nice! Now apologize to Merryweather,” Scolding the chicken, she seems to deflate a bit before sulkily wandering off with a sad cluck.

Shaking your head, you set aside the chicken feed to grab food for Phillis. “Those two always seem to be fighting,” you tell Tsunotarou, who continues to watch the three hens. “Fauna is the mild mannered one of the group, thankfully. I guess she balances them out.”

Phillis comes trotting over the moment you're within sight. Patting her head, you scratch her behind the ears. “Morning, princess.” She bleats happily at the attention. The little dragon flies off your shoulder to get a better look at Phillis. She noses his stomach curiously as he reaches out to pat her on the snout.

“She’s a gentle one.” You smile as she nudges your side to hurry you up on getting her breakfast. “Okay, okay! I’m getting there.”

Once you give her food and water, you head back inside to your work room. You go through your current stock of ingredients while Tsunotarou flips through the thick tome of recipes. You wonder briefly if dragons can read, but knowing how highly intelligent they are, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.

“That was given to me by my former teacher, Crewel. He taught me everything I know about brewing potions,” you explain as you check things off. “He was a tough teacher, but I learned from the best. I still have nightmares about that riding crop…” Not that he ever used it on you, but when he wanted to make a point, he made one.

You continue, “The potion and salve I used for you is for speeding up the healing process. It supposedly works on all living creatures, so I was hoping it would work on dragons.”

Tsunotarou leaves the tome to come over to your side. You shake your head as you reread your lists. “I seem to be out of a lot of stuff,” you mutter to yourself.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh. “I’ll have to make a trip into town.” Glancing at the creature on your shoulder, you regard him silently. His intelligent green eyes stare back as he stretches his wings.

“So, I either have to leave you here alone.” He bristles, eyes narrowing. “Or, you have to stay hidden until we get back from town.” You aren’t sure how people would react if they saw a small dragon on your shoulder. It would be better not to take the chance of possibly causing a commotion.

He agrees to your second option as he flies off your shoulder and lands in the satchel you keep hung up near the front door. His head pokes out when you don’t move. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”

You leave for the main shopping center with the dragon in tow. A bit nervous, you try to calm yourself through the walk. Tsunotarou pokes his head out taking in the scenery. At least someone is feeling fine.

The hustle and bustle of the town can be heard as you near the gate. The guards let you through without much of a glance. Here, adventures and merchants can check in the numerous guilds while stocking up on supply. It’s always busy as people move in and out. You only really stop here every few months to get supplies. By now, the shops you frequent are familiar with what you need, which makes shopping a little easier.

First stop is to pick up some herbs. Looking at your herb list, you easily weave your way through the streets. “I was dangerously low on four leaf clovers and died mandrakes…”

“Hello?” The greenhouse is quiet as you don’t see anyone. “Jack?” You tap the little bell on the front counter.

Finally, someone comes to the front. “Hey, (Y/N),” Jack greets with a nod. Though just a part-timer, he knows the greenhouse inside and out. 

Smiling, you point to your list. “Just need to restock a few things.” Handing the list over, he quickly looks everything over.

“I’ll be right back with everything.” He’s gone in a flash.

You feel Tsunotarou wiggle around in the satchel before poking his head out. “You have to stay hidden,” you whisper, placing a finger over your lips.

His head turns this way and that way before he retreats back into the bag. Just in time too as Jack returns with your things. Scratching his head, his ears twitch. “Uh, sorry we’re out of powdered death caps. We oughta be getting some next week.”

“That’s fine. I don’t think I’ll be needing them right away. Can you put me on the list to set some aside when they come in?” He leans over to hand you the other items. He pauses for a moment, his brows drawing together as his eyes dart around.

“Jack?” You inch back a bit. You can only hope he’ll ignore whatever he’s smelling.

Seeming to remember himself, he pulls back with an awkward cough. “S-sorry…” He hastily scribbles your name down in a small book. “That’ll be thirty-three for the rest.”

As you reach in your satchel for your coin purse, your hand brushes against the dragon hiding there. Freezing up, your gaze darts over to Jack, who thankfully is busy doing something else. You feel coins being pressed into your hand. Glancing inside your bag, Tsunotarou looks up at you expectantly. He flicks his tongue out a few times.

Counting the coins in your hand, you can’t help the grin spreading across your face. He had given your exact change. “Somethin’ up?” Jack inquires, noting the way you’re looking down.

Snapping your attention back to him, you shake your head. “Nope. Here’s the money.” You hurriedly hand him the coins. “I’ll see you next week, Jack.” Giving him a rushed wave, you quickly leave the greenhouse.

Once a good distance away, you let out a deep sigh. “I think that went well.” Opening your satchel a bit, you’re met with judging green eyes. “Don’t look at me like that! I panicked!” 

Shoving the bag of herbs into a corner of the satchel, Tsunotarou curls deeper into the bag. Letting the satchel bag flap fall back down, you return to the other lists you made. “Guess we’ll visit Sam’s shop next…”

Sam’s is busy as usual when you arrive. Pushing through the throng of customers, you make your way to the shelf filled with bottles. Picking out a few that you need for potions, you move on to the jars. By the time you go to checkout, you can feel Tsunotarou squirming inside the satchel. He pokes his head out every now and then, but only does it when there aren’t many people around. People are too busy with their own shopping, they don’t even glance your way. 

“Welcome back, little imp!” Sam greets.

You return the greeting with a wide smile. “Hey, Sam. Just the usual.” As Sam wraps each glass bottle in brown paper, you mentally do the math of how much you owe.

He carefully splits your items into two bags. “That’ll be one-hundred unless you’re looking for something out of stock?”

“No, I’m good for today.” You reach into your satchel and Tsunotarou presses the coins into your hand. “Here you go.”

Sam eyes your bag with interest but doesn’t say anything. “See you next time!”

You’re thankful that Sam doesn’t pry. The next stores are all uneventful. By the time you’re walking back home, you have an armload of bags. Your satchel can usually hold more, but the extra guest makes it difficult to fit anything beyond the herbs in there.

Once home, you put everything away before feeding everyone. Later, you’re stretched out in front of the fireplace with a botany book in hand. Tsunotarou is curled up on your lap while you read and take notes along the pages. Though you’re used to being alone, it’s like a familiar comfort to feel his weight on your lap. 

When it’s time for bed, you carry the still sleeping dragon upstairs. Putting Tsunotarou in the makeshift nest, you climb into bed. However, before you can fall asleep, Tsunotarou flies over with the blanket in his mouth. Standing at the edge of the bed, it’s almost like he’s giving you puppy dog eyes.

Rolling your eyes, you pat the empty spot near your pillow. “Fine, come on.”

He lets out a satisfied chirp. He wraps the blanket in a neat pile before laying down. Laying on your side, you chuckle while scratching the top of his head. “Good night, Tsunotarou.”

---

At the end of the month you’re preparing a few potions that need to be bathed in moonlight. Tsunotarou sets down the vials you’ve finished in the rack on the windowsill near the front door. You're grateful to have the extra…claws while juggling a few other things at once.

“One more glamor potion and that should be the last of the orders,” you tell Tsunotarou as he perches on your shoulder while you’re stirring the cauldron. “Thanks for the help.” You give him a little scratch under his chin. 

You swear he purrs with the way you feel his body vibrate. “I swear you’re a cat disguised as a dragon,” you chortle while bopping him on the nose.

He stares back at you before slowly blinking in return. “You can’t blame me for making the connection. You even caught a snake and left it as a gift,” you continue while sprinkling in some crushed rose petals. “Also, you shouldn’t do that again.”

The dragon grumbles deep within his chest. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, but let's leave the wildlife alone.” 

Pouring the potion into a vial and sealing it, you hand it off to Tsunotarou, who takes it into his paws before flying off to put it in the rack. Taking a seat, you lean back with a deep sigh. 

Tsunotarou returns, taking a seat on the table. His front paw is fully healed and is no longer wrapped in bandages. Despite being back to full health, it doesn’t seem like he plans to go anywhere.

Suddenly there’s a commotion of loud squawking before the front door is thrown open. “Oi! (Y/N), we’re back!” Ace shouts while letting the door bang.

You tumble back in the chair and hit the ground. “Ahhhkk-ow!” Your head rebounds off the floor with a loud smack.

Two things happen at once. Deuce, who’s behind Ace, rushes over to help you up; however, he’s met with a hissing dragon blocking him that spits red flames at him. His sleeve automatically catches fire and the cottage is filled with panicked, confused screaming.

“Ahhhahhhhhck! Put it out!”

“Is that a dragon!?”

While the two run around screaming, you stare in a daze at the ceiling. Tsunotarou’s face suddenly fills your vision. He chirps a few times before you finally respond with a pat on his head. “I’m okay…”

Slowly sitting up, you notice the two idiots are now quiet. Deuce is no longer on fire, thankfully. However, they take in the sight of Tsunotarou sitting on your shoulder from a safe distance. You wince when you touch the already forming lump on the back of your head.

You huff before glaring at the redhead. “What did I say about suddenly bursting through the front door, Ace?! Can’t you knock like a normal person?”

“Well…I-I…!” Ace sputters unintelligibly before he jabs a finger at the dragon on your shoulder. “Forget about me for a second! What’s that thing?!”

Tsunotarou bares his teeth with a low growl. “We are going to have this conversation later,” you tell him before shifting gears. “This is Tsunotarou. I found him in the forest a little over a month ago.”

“Is he like a baby dragon?” Deuce asks, eyes wide.

Picking up the fallen chair, you shake your head. “I don’t think so. Anyways, baby dragons are much larger. Maybe he’s just a special type of dragon?”

Ace leans closer but pulls back when Tsunotarou snaps at him. “Kinda vicious. He almost barbecued poor Deucy.”

“You also busted in here suddenly. He probably thought you two were threats,” you point out. “Anyways, What trouble did you get into this time?”

“Psssh! Why’d you think we got in trouble?”

“Because you have an infected, bleeding wound on your arm, Ace.” Rolling your eyes, you go to your workroom before returning with a handful of potions, salves, and bandages. “Sit.”

As they plop down, you hand them each a potion. “We had a commission to take down some orcs that were terrorizing a small village,” Deuce explains. “But, uh, turns out it was actually a colony of orcs.”

“So you got beat up?” You clean Deuce’s cuts, which are mostly minor. A few do need some salve and bandages.

You move on to Ace, who looks the worse between the two. “We didn’t get beat up,” Ace grumbles. “We took them down! Aaaa-ouch!!” Biting your lip, you continue to dab his infected wound. 

“You two get into more trouble than anyone I know. Did you at least get a good reward?”

“Of course!” Ace pulls out a hefty coin purse and lets it fall on the table. “All in a day's work.” He grins smugly with his nose in the air.

Flicking his nose, you shake your head as he covers his face. “Don’t freely show that off or you’ll get mugged. Again.” Finished with his wounds, you place a small container of salve in his hand. “Use this once a day until everything is gone. It should, hopefully, not scar.”

“Um, (Y/N), can we crash here?” Deuce asks. He shrinks back when you give him a look.

Rubbing your temples, you sigh, “Fine. But one of you is gonna be sleeping on the floor cause I only have one couch.”

Ace jumps up. “Dibs!”

“Wait, you got the couch the last time! It’s my turn!” Leaving the two bickering adventurers, you head upstairs to find some spare blankets.

Tsunotarou gives you a questioning look as you rummage around in your closet. “They’re good friends. A little annoying at times, but they’ve always had my back.” You can’t count how many times they’ve slept at your place.

“They’re just as rowdy as they were in school,” you mutter as you head back down with two pillows and some blankets.

---

You can’t sleep. Tossing and turning, you finally settle on your back to glare at the ceiling. Ace and Deuce both snore loud enough to be heard from your bedroom. Tsunotarou had disappeared though you weren’t too worried. He would sometimes leave in the middle of the night, most likely to hunt, but he would always return by the time you got up.

Sitting up, you carefully make your way downstairs. “Maybe something to eat will help,” you mumble. You spot Ace hanging off the couch, so you know who lost the argument.

Just as you’re about to tiptoe around Deuce, you hear some loud clucking. Eyes furrowing, you wonder why the hens are up at this hour. Forgetting about your midnight snack, you head to the front door. Stepping outside, the air is warm but nice enough for early summer. Before you can move, you notice a figure standing near the chicken coop.

Not only is it strange to see a person at this time, but there’s also one other thing making you pause and rethink your plans. The moon hangs large in the sky and bathes the world in an ethereal silvery glow. The stranger stands there, head tilted upward to the sky, completely still.

And completely naked.

Slowly closing the door, you slide the deadbolt in place with a muffled click. Hopefully the naked stranger will leave. You doubt the deadbolt would keep anyone out if they actually wanted to break in. However, the act of using it at least gives you a small peace of mind.

Deciding the hens can take care of themselves, you head back to bed. You’re far too tired to deal with whatever nonsense is happening outside. As you drift off to sleep, your last thought is of Tsunotarou. You send a small prayer to whoever is listening that he’s alright.

However, you're woken by a loud crash. And then. “AHHHHHH!!!” “DO SOMETHING!!!”

Bolting out of bed, sunlight filters through the window. Despite feeling like you didn’t sleep at all, it’s morning. You grab the nearest object, a broom, before rushing downstairs. In your haste you nearly slip but manage to catch yourself. Wielding the broom, you’re ready to smack whatever intruder is causing trouble.

Instead of a naked intruder, you witness Ace trying to put out a fire with one of your spare pillows. Deuce is rushing over with a cup of water and dumps it on the flaming blanket. It goes out with a loud sizzle. Both boys let out a relieved sigh as you set the broom down.

“Mind telling me what’s going on?” you ask, not amused.

“Your overgrown lizard,” Ace jabs a finger at Tsunotarou, who is sitting on top of the table, “tried to set me on fire! He tried to murder me!!”

You glance at Deuce, who is still clutching the cup, then back at the frazzled redhead. “Did you do anything to him? Tsunotarou doesn’t just attack people out of nowhere.”

Ace rubs the back of his neck as he suddenly loses the fire in his eyes. “I…I might have said he got fat… And that you should get rid of him,” he admits. “B-But! I’m not wrong! He’s gotten bigger overnight. Soon he’ll be too big for your house!”

Your attention goes to the dragon, who sits patiently while watching the scene. You can’t deny that he’s gotten bigger. Now he’s the size of a large cat, possibly even bigger. “Do dragons usually have growth spurts?” you wonder aloud.

“I don’t remember reading about this at school,” Deuce says, nodding thoughtfully.

“Would you two think about the bigger issue!? He’s gonna grow too big and probably eat us all! That’s what dragons do!” Ace shouts, waving his hands around wildly. 

Walking over to Tsunotarou, you gently stroke his head. “You wouldn’t do that would you?” He gurgles happily, leaning into your touch. “See. He wouldn’t eat us. We’re not very tasty anyways.”

Ace slaps a hand over his face. “(Y/N), he’s a dragon! Not a pet!”

“I know. And dragons are highly intelligent, which means they can understand us.” You chuckle when he rubs against your arm. “I’m pretty sure if Tsunotarou wanted to eat us, he would’ve burned us all alive by now.”

Deuce shudders. “Morbid…”

“Oh yeah!” You completely ignore the last comment. “There’s possibly a naked stranger wandering around this area. I saw him standing near the chicken coop last night.” Tsunotarou makes a noise in the back of his throat.

“...what?” Both boys stare at you before scrambling for the front door.

“Pretty sure he left already!” They don’t hear you as they race outside still in their sleepwear. Lifting Tsunotarou into your arms, you huff, “You’ve gotten heavier too. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to fit in my satchel now.” He only nuzzles your face with his scaly snout.

Coming outside, the hens are just fine. Tsunotarou flies out of your arms to grab the bag of feed. Deuce watches in rapt interest as he throws chicken feed in front of the hens. “He actually helps out?” he asks, surprised. 

It really is a sight to see. “Yup. He’s been helping with small things here and there. He even hands me ingredients when I make potions.”

Once the hens are properly fed, he flies off to take care of Phillis. Despite her initial fear of him, Phillis seems to have gotten used to him. You two follow behind to Phillis's pen. Tsunotarou pats the top of her head while she eats.

“I never thought I’d see a dragon taking care of a goat instead of eating one…” Deuce looks both perplexed and awed.

“Hey!” Ace storms over with twigs and leaves in his hair. “What the hell, Deuce!”

“Huh??”

“I thought we were looking for the weirdo (Y/N) saw. Instead you leave me to do the work.” he grumbles.

Deuce gestures over to Tsunotarou. “I-I got distracted,” he sputters.

The redhead barely passes a glance over to the dragon. “Excuses like always, Deucy.”

“Did you find anything,” you ask, distracting Ace.

“Nah. Think whoever it was left.” Ace shakes his head.

Resisting the urge to say “I told you so” because he didn’t listen, you head back inside. “Come on, unless you wanna stay in your pajamas.”

While Ace gets cleaned up in the bath, Deuce helps with getting breakfast ready. “Hey, do you want us to ask Riddle to come over?”

You hand a plate to Tsunotarou to bring to the table.“Why?”

“To get some protective runes made around the perimeter of your place. Maybe it’ll keep the weirdo you saw out.” There’s a huff and light growl from behind him. “Uh… is he okay?” He inches away from the irritated dragon.

You scratch the top of Tsunotarou’s head, which causes him to almost vibrate. “Something wrong, Tsunotarou? Are you worried about the weirdo too?” You chuckle when he butts your arm with his head.

“You don’t seem too worried,” Deuce points out.

“Milk or orange juice?” You hold up two jugs.

“Milk, please.”

“I mean, I think if that stranger wanted to hurt us, he would've broken down the door. The deadbolt doesn’t do much,” you say while setting down glasses. “I’ll be fine, Deuce, so don’t worry.”

“...sure,” he agrees hesitantly. You can still see the concern on his face, but before you can say anything more, Ace comes down.

“Breakfast ready?” He slides into a chair looking around expectantly.

You hand him a bowl of fruit. “No thanks to you.”

Breakfast is a lively affair with the two extra guests. Ace and Deuce keep the conversation going as they regale you with their latest adventure in detail. It goes by far too quickly for your taste. Sure your days aren’t so quiet with Tsunotarou, but it does get somewhat lonely having a one-sided conversation.

“Well, Tsunotarou, it’s just you, me and the girls again,” you say with a deep sigh. You set him on the ground with a groan. “Okay, buddy, you’re a little too heavy to hold for long periods now.”

He lets out a pitiful sound before rubbing his head against your thigh. “Come on, let's get the rest of the day started.” As you go back into the house, Tsunotarou doesn’t immediately follow.

His sharp green eyes survey the area around your home. Tongue flickering out, a low snarl starts in his chest. Something catches his eye in the trees just beyond your fence. His back bristles as he opens his mouth. Green flames swirl around his mouth as his eyes narrow.

“Tsunotarou, are you still out here?” you call, coming back outside. Lifting him up, you don’t notice the way his gaze is focused on something else. “Are you mad that I can’t carry you?” you ask with a chuckle.

The dragon doesn’t respond as he rests his snout on your shoulder. As you close the door, his gaze never leaves the line of trees. There’s a flash of yellow before the door is firmly shut.

---

To your surprise Ace and Deuce return a few days later. And even more of a surprise, Riddle is with them. You nearly slam the door in their face when you see them. Nervously looking between the two adventures, you can feel heat prickling the back of your neck. Ace avoids eye contact while Deuce sheepishly mouths an apology.

Riddle is the first to speak up. “These two let it slip that you’re harboring a dragon. Being the head of the Heartslabyul Guild, I thought it would be prudent for me to check. Rule 134 states no unregistered magical creatures within 10 miles of the guild are allowed. They must be taken to the appropriate handlers.”

Casting dirty looks at the two, you open the door wider. “Please come in, Riddle.” You rather like having your door on its hinges.

As he enters, he looks around before his gaze zeroes in on the dragon resting on the couch. “It really is a dragon…”

Ace and Deuce carefully slink past you before you shut the door. “As you can see, Riddle, he’s not a danger to anyone.” You try to smile as innocently as possible.

He turns to you. “I realize the rules may not apply to you, (Y/N), since you’re not a part of  our guild, but a dragon is dangerous regardless of its size. Ace mentioned he grew bigger last night. Who’s to say he won’t stop growing and then lay waste to everything?”

Said redhead suddenly has a keen interest in your hanging herbs. “Tsunotarou isn’t like that,” you argue. “He’s never hurt anyone and he’s been living with me of all people.” The magicless human who would be a prime target for magical creatures.

Riddle walks over to the now awake dragon. Tsunotarou regards him with keen interest unlike Ace and Deuce. They both size each other up. Riddle’s brows draw together as he continues to observe him.

“Everything okay?” you ask when the staring seems to drag on.

“Did you know there’s a curse on him?” He walks around the couch to observe Tsunotarou on all sides. The dragon doesn’t move an inch but seems fairly relaxed despite Riddle being a complete stranger.

You and the two boys share a look. “No, I didn’t. Is that why he’s so small?”

“Maybe.” He’s unsure. “It’s old magic and very powerful. I honestly don’t know what kind of curse it is.” Standing in front of Tsunotarou once more, Riddle sighs while touching his head. “This is more complicated than I thought. I’ll need to do some research before trying to determine the curse. I might have to ask Vil for his help on this.”

Sitting on the arm of the couch, you stroke Tsunotarou’s head. “Are you cursed?” you ask him. His head bobs up and down. “How come you two didn’t notice?” Your question is directed at the two bean spillers.

“They probably wrote it off as the creature's magical powers leaving a residue,” Riddle answers. He gives them a stern look. “They’ll need to go through more training later.”

Both stiffen as the color drains from their faces.

“So what now?”

Shaking his head, Riddle glances at his pocket watch. “I need to head back to the guild for tea. I’ll look into curses and consult Vil about this as well. For now, just make sure no one else sees him. We don’t want people to think a dangerous creature is on the loose and panic.”

“Alright. Thank you!” At least he’s going to try and help. You know Riddle could have decided Tsunotarou was a danger and taken him away. 

When they’re gone, you plop down on the couch. Tsunotarou immediately climbs into your lap and makes himself comfortable. “Cursed huh?” You lift his face so you can look into his eyes. “Are you secretly a prince who got cursed by an evil sorcerer and only true love's kiss can break the spell?” you ask with a teasing grin.

He stares back before blinking slowly. Laughing at the ridiculous thought, you bop his nose affectionately. “I hope Riddle figures out your curse. I’d love to see your full form.” 

[quxyivs]

The other half of me

Popular Boy! Lee Know x Loner Photographer! Black fem reader

Summary: Lee Know the schools heartthrob, Mr perfect, the pretty boy, sees you getting bullied by his ex and decides to step in. He offers to take you to the nurse and when you two meet again after you rejected his offer her learned that he doesn’t have to lie to himself when near you (College AU)

Troupe- Heartthrob x Loner (kinda)

Trigger Warnings! Fluff and angst, crying, cursing, bullying, a tad bit of fighting, blood (lmk if I missed anything!!)

You were sitting down in your seat on the train looking down at your camera as you made your way to school. When the train finally stopped you stood up and walked over your bag and camera in hand. You connected your Bluetooth headphones as you began walking out the train station and toward the campus.

You were eventually across the street from the campus. You looked at the gates and you took a deep breath before walking across the street and making it to the other side of the road. When you made it to the other side you walked towards the entrance, not before the same group of girls came beside you pushing you over and knocking you down causing you to hurt your leg.

“Fuck-!! Ow!!” You said as you sat up holding your bleeding knee. “Aww is the baby gonna cry? Gonna cry!! Grab her camera and take a picture too!!” Amia, your main enemy laughed loudly as another girl, Jio, grabbed the camera. When she picked it up you quickly stood up and snatched it back. “Leave me alone!” You said clenching your camera. “Who do you think you’re talking to!?” Just as Amia was about to slap you, Lee Know, the school heartthrob stopped her hand.

“Amia what the hell are you doing? Leave her alone.” Lee know said looking at Amia with a stern voice standing there waiting for her to leave. “But-!!” “Go.” “UGH!!” Amia stomped off with her friend mumbling underneath her breath. Lee know turned around coming closer towards you to get a look at your face before you backed up. “I didn’t need help..but thank you..” You said as you looked away from him and back away. “You’re welc-shit you’re bleeding come here let me help.” He reached out to grab your arm when you snatched it back from him. “Don’t!!..Don’t touch me. I can do it myself.”

You grab your bag from off the ground and limp to the nurses office. She wasn’t surprised to see you as this was normal for you by now. She sat you down on a chair as she disinfected the wound. As you sat there patiently waiting for her to finish the door to the office was opened again and in came Lee know. You were about to protest and tell him to stop following you when you saw him sit on the chair need the window and just look outside. Completely ignoring your presence.

You could tell he seemed a bit out of it so you decided to maybe snap him out of it. “What’s little Mr. Perfect doing here? Thought boys like you were too good to get into fights.” You said sarcastically rolling your eyes as you looked at him waiting for his response. “Well seeing as defending you got me dumped, I thought I’d come check in you.” He said honestly making you feel bad.

“Oh..I-I’m sorry I didnt…”

“It’s fine. She was annoying and bitchy anyways..just using me for my popularity and money..” For the first time in forever you felt like you knew him..? You and Lee know never spoke. Never even a wave but here he was pouring his true emotions out to you. You looked at him softly. “So why’d you get with her..?” You said softly but also sounding concerned. “My parents forced me to do it. They force me to do all of this.” He admitted as he looked at her.

You two made eye contact but it felt deeper than just a glare. “So you don’t want to be the schools ‘Heartthrob’ the ‘popular boy’ the-“ “Guy everyone wants to become because I’m rich and get girls? yeah. I hate it, wish I could just be left alone, kinda like you.” He said chuckling to himself dryly.

“..Why would you want that.. I mean being alone is well, lonely of course.. No friends and everyone thinks you’re just a weirdo. Being like this sucks.” You say chuckling as well looking down at your leg as the nurse walked in. “Oh? Is something wrong Lee know?” The nurse said looking at your leg and wrapping it as she spoke. “No just came in here to get away.” He said his voice quiet, almost like he wanted to go unheard.

“Well good thing I just went to restock….” She paused briefly. “You know.. you two are really the same.” She said with a soft smile as she finished wrapping your leg throwing away some of the bloody cotton balls. “How? We’re polar opposites.” You two said almost at the same time and then made eye contact.

“That’s how.” She giggled. “Well you two need to get to class now yes?? I’ll write you both a pass!” You awkwardly shifted in your seat before standing up preparing to leave as she finishes writing the note you find yourself gazing in Lee know’s direction. As you look at him, you find yourself lost in his presence. The way the sunlight hits all his features perfectly, the way his eyes shimmer, his slightly pink cheeks.. You find yourself unable to control your movements and you take out your camera and snap a picture of him. When the picture comes out the Polaroid you shake it and then look at it. Gorgeous. Pure perfection. You then snap out of your head when you hear the nurse snap.

“Stuck in la-la land over him aren’t we?” She chuckled. Nervous that you had been called out you just run out the room with your camera but dropping the picture. Lee know saw that you dropped something and he stood up to pick it up when he saw that what you dropped…was a picture of him.

He smiled and picked up the photo. The nurse who was watching it all smiled too as she crossed her legs

“Seems you found your other half.”

“Seems so..”

.

.

.

A/N- AH I spent SO long writing this!! I hope you guys like it!!! Lmk if you want this to be a series too(*≧∀≦*)

[thebusytypewriter]

hello hello congrats on the followers!! for the event could i request a long kamukura x reader fic where he’s basically baby duck imprinted on reader? i imagine that after being locked in a cell and mistreated by hopes peak even an iota of basic human kindness has him clinging

YIPPEE I've been brainrotting about this one for AGES I'm so sorry for the wait anon!! I'm also sorry that you were probably expecting fluff with this and while there is some, uhhhh........... angstnohappyendOKAYENJOYBYE--

No, I’m not falling for you

So please have mercy on me

The night of the Tragedy—the first one—you were there. That was something Izuru Kamukura didn’t expect.

You weren’t exactly there, not in the classroom where it all went down; things would’ve been much different if you were. No, you were some Reserve Course student who’d found their way just outside of the Main Course gates past curfew.

In fact, it was well past that point, nearly midnight by then. Enoshima had yet to return from her place in the security office, Ikusaba likely with her. This left Kamukura alone outside to ponder what had just transpired.

The gruesome deaths of the thirteen Ultimate students replayed over and over within his perfect memory, everything from gunshot to impaling to chainsaw. He’d expected each and every one of them to turn away from Enoshima’s “motives,” since innocent lives logically outweighed petty hearsay, no matter how damaging it would be.

Such intense emotion on their faces when first attacks were made… He couldn’t understand it.

Wind whistled past his stony face as he strolled, the force tossing around his hair in every direction. Even if he had the capacity to care about it, he wouldn’t. There were far more pressing things to worry about.

The sound of rubber soles on stone alerted him to an approaching individual, so Kamukura swiftly moved behind one of the few trees lining the outer wall and watched.

You were far out of dress code for a Reserve Course student, but he figured that you didn’t care with it being after hours. A large hoodie covered you, engulfing your upper half in the softest fabric he’d ever seen, and your yoga pants were just as large and cozy-looking. The only thing that indicated you as part of the Reserve Course was the student ID faintly peeking out from under your collar.

He could see the bags under your eyes from his place a dozen feet away, and the slouch in your walk alerted his health-related talents of your likely insomnia.

“Hello?” you called out, almost timidly, not too soft to go unheard but not too loud to alert any remaining security. “I was just out for a walk when I, um, heard you. I know it’s late, I just want to make sure you’re okay. It’s not a good idea to leave Main Course grounds after dark, okay?”

Kamukura faintly wondered if you’d ever had a chance of being an Ultimate regarding empathy or safety. It would suit you.

“I go here,” you continued, “so don’t worry, I just want to help.”

His nail lightly scratched at the tree’s bark in contemplation. Two abnormal events in the same night… Perhaps he couldn’t let that go.

Letting his definitive steps announce his presence, Kamukura stepped out and into the dull light of the street lamps. He said nothing and simply blinked at you.

You inhaled sharply, clearly startled as you caught sight of him. There was only a brief moment of panic in your eyes before it switched over to concern, your gaze locking on something just below his own, slightly to his right. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Ah. In the excitement of your arrival, he’d forgotten about the bullet graze wound across his cheek. He raised a hand and felt around the area, unsurprised to find it mostly still wet with blood. “And why would you be concerned about me? You’ll get nothing in return.”

“Nothing in…?” Your brow pinched further, now from both concern and confusion. “Dude, you’re bleeding. Like a lot. Like you might need stitches.”

“No. I’ll apply some disinfectant shortly, and it’ll heal just fine. You should be more concerned with your own safety, being out this late at night, instead of fussing over a stranger.”

“I-I’m not fussing,” you argued, cheeks now puffing out in your annoyance.

You reminded him of a chipmunk.

Cute.

Something in him halted at the thought before reassuring himself that it was simply fact. There were no opinions within him. You were being kind to him, that was all. It was… unfamiliar.

Unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

“Oh!” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. “How rude of me. I didn’t even introduce myself.” With a statement of your name—something he already knew from observing your student ID—you extended a hand while asking for his own.

In a handful of milliseconds, he considered what to tell you. He could tell you nothing and walk away, leaving you out of the insanity but leaving this odd new itch behind. He could tell you Kamukura, but there were far too many things attached to that name on Hope’s Peak campus. You were Reserve Course, not stupid. 

“Call me Izuru,” he stated. “For your safety, I’ll leave it at that.”

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. “Ah… okay? Nice to meet you then, Izuru.”

“You as well.”

“Aaaand your reason for being out here…?”

“Nightly walk.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but you didn’t need to know that. “I was in the process of returning to my quarters when you appeared. I am in no danger, I assure you.”

You nodded, hesitant but understanding. “Gotcha. Well… just be careful, okay? There are some real weirdos out here at night.”

The irony of your statement almost made him laugh. Almost. “I understand, thank you. Would you like an escort back to the Reserve Course dormitory?”

“Oh, uh, no thanks. Pepper spray’s got my back.”

“If you insist. Good night, then.” Kamukura gave the slightest of bows before turning to reenter the Main Course grounds and rendezvous with Enoshima. Your return of the phrase met his ears, but he continued on.

He tried not to feel your gaze boring into his back as he did so.

He tried not to look back when he heard your footsteps retreat.

Izuru Kamukura failed for the first and second time that night.

‘Cause it’s not romantic, I swear

I’m not gasping for air

After moving from one underground bunker to another, Kamukura quickly found himself to be once again bored out of his mind. The only thing that kept his attention, that lingered in his mind, was you.

He’d never seen your face among the rioters from newsfeed alone, leading him to the conclusion that you were abstaining from it all. You were safe, presumably. Given how kind you were to him when you met, he decided that you deserved it—the safety from Despair. Someone like you needed to be protected.

And yet, he still thought about what it would be like for you to stay in that bunker with him. Kamukura wasn’t alone there, of course not; among its occupants was Enoshima, Ikusaba, Mitarai, and the nurse that was dragged in—Tsumiki. Of these, Enoshima was the only one who engaged in conversation with him, as one-sided as it was, and as annoying as she was.

Despite himself, despite his programming, Kamukura missed you.

He knew that Enoshima had noticed his change of demeanor after that night. He knew that she’d look into what happened, badgering him until she inevitably gave up.

What he didn’t know was how invested she’d be in the situation.

In the midst of his purusing old documents within the bunker, he was met with the sound of Enoshima’s delighted hum growing closer… then farther. It was odd. There weren’t many rooms in the bunker, and there were even fewer rooms that Junko Enoshima herself would enter. If they were dirty, she sent Ikusaba in. If they were hazardous, she sent Tsumiki in.

So where was she going?

Damn it, his interest was piqued.

Cautiously and quietly, Kamukura followed the Ultimate Despair down a corridor he’d never seen her traverse before. She hummed the whole way, a slight bounce in her step, before stopping at a closed iron door. It had a small square window at head level, but that seemed to be the only way one could see in or out of the room. Enoshima slid the massive bar lock out of place and pushed her way inside, letting the door close behind her.

He stalked up to the solid barrier and peered through the window, careful not to let more of himself show than what was unavoidable. As Kamukura’s gaze settled on the pigtailed frame he’d watched enter, her voice met his ears.

“Just checkin’ on ya, sweetheart! Can’t have you dying on me just yet, right? You just got here!”

Then, a second voice followed hers, one that made his blood run cold.

“I-I think you’ve got the wrong person,” you stammered, teeth audibly clacking together in the cold concrete room. “I don’t know who you are, I don’t know why you brought me here, I haven’t done anything wrong—”

“Of course not, silly!” Enoshima strode forward in faux contemplation, manicured hands clasped behind her back. “Consider this a… witness care program. We take care of our witnesses!”

With the Despair’s movement, Kamukura was able to get a full view of you. You were still in your pajamas, just a tank top and fuzzy pants, implying that you’d been abducted either in your room or within the dorm in general. Your feet were bare and pale—borderline blue—against the gray floor. (He understood then why you were shivering.) From that angle, he was able to notice your hands wrenched behind your back as you sat by a pole, and he deduced that Enoshima—or maybe Ikusaba—had tied you to said pole to restrict movement. How cliche.

“Witness care?” You blinked, fluorescent light sparkling in your eyes. “So you’re protecting me then?”

“Well, aren’t you just a little ray of hope?” Enoshima reached out and pitched your cheek with enthusiasm. “Cutie pie! I could just eat you up!” Her grin dropped abruptly, and Kamukura saw a few little beads of blood spring up on your skin where she held you. “…And then I would immediately vomit. Your gross little rainbows and sparkles make me sick, y’hear me? What the hell does a god like Kamukura see in a worthless Reserve Course chump?”

Your brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, who’s… Kamukura? Like, the founder of Hope’s Peak?”

“No, silly,” she snorted. “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. The one you met a few days ago. What exactly did he say his name was?”

He watched your mouth open to answer, then slowly close as you appeared to connect the dots she’d presented. Your response came out quiet and disbelieving. “…Izuru.”

Enoshima’s free hand flew up in mocking celebration. “Give the kid a prize! This might come as a shock to you—who am I kidding, it so will—but the Izuru Kamukura you talked to is a lab experiment gone horrifically right. He’s a god among men, the Ultimate Hope. And that makes it all the more confusing as to why he’s chosen to latch onto you of all people. Kinda silly if you ask me.”

Much to his odd delight, all traces of fear left your face at the statement, and you snarled at her. “Well if you admire him so much, then why does it sound to me like you’re doubting his judgment? I’ll be sure to let him know when I see him next. Whose word will he believe—mine or yours?”

Enoshima’s hand ripped away as she recoiled. “Ugh! God, you’d get along really well with the know-it-all detective in my class. Keep holding your head up like that, and you’re ten times more likely to get smacked by a bat. It’s just statistics!”

The twitch of your brow betrayed your returning terror.

“Anyway,” she drew out, “I wouldn’t get comfy, m’kay? Even though you’re here as a present for my beloved Kamukura, I still have an agenda. Maybe look up the phrase ‘take care of’ in the dictionary! Oh, wait, you can’t do that here. Hm! Your problem, not mine.”

Kamukura ducked out of the window just as Enoshima turned, forgoing the remainder of the conversation to preserve his assumed innocence. In his brisk return down the hallway, he felt an odd tingling sensation rising from the midst of his throat all the way to his skull. It reminded him of an ant colony, one that disturbed the neutrality within him.

He then noticed how tense his brow had been the entire time. How clenched his fists were. How much he itched to burst through the door and rescue your kind self from Despair incarnate.

Some Ultimate Psychologist within him ticked off some boxes and raised a finger to share the new discovery, but he ignored it.

He had to.

The Ultimate Hope did not get attached.

I want you to be here, but please don’t come near

‘Cause even though I’m pretty sure my head’s exploding

I’m not ready for hand holding

Kamukura was attached.

Within the couple of weeks between his discovery of your presence—when he was sure that Enoshima and Ikusaba weren’t in the bunker, and Mitarai and Tsumiki were stationed in the former’s workspace—he often found himself visiting you.

The first time he made an appearance and explained what he could, he’d been expecting your immediate response.

“So you’ll let me go?”

He shook his head. “As much as I am of the mind that you should be given your freedom, there is a strong chance Enoshima may just hunt you down again and kill you. A far from ideal outcome, wouldn’t you agree?”

You did, and he was relieved.

…What?

Ah, yes. That was the recurring problem around you; Kamukura found himself feeling things. At first, he was convinced that he could become desensitized by visiting you more. It only made things worse. He got to know you then, all your hobbies and quirks and everything that made you unique in his eyes.

Not to mention your kindness. God, all the harsh interactions with immoral scientist after immoral scientist made him realize how truly important you were.

You invaded all of his waking thoughts, and Kamukura expected that he was doing a good job at hiding it.

He was created to have perfect judgment.

It’s not love, I swear

“Oh, Kamukura darling! I have a surprise for you!”

He let himself sigh as he turned from his absentminded file browsing to meet Enoshima’s wide grin. “I have no interest in your presents.” Not to mention he already knew to whom she was referring.

The grin flipped on a dime to a childish pout. “You don’t have to be so mean about it! And here I thought you’d actually like this one.”

“If you’re going to pester me about this surprise regardless, then I suppose I have little choice. Get on with it.”

Enoshima immediately perked up again, much like a dog whose master said the word ‘treat’ aloud. (What a hellish dog the Ultimate Despair would make, Kamukura thought to himself. He’d have to tell you that one later.) “Okie dokie! You’re gonna love it.”

“Doubtful. I am incapable of love.”

Incapability, the Ultimate Dictionary part of him said, is another word for inability, which is the lack of ability to do something. Denial is an unwillingness to accept that something is true.

He stubbornly shoved the thought away and followed behind the bouncing girl.

Love clouds even the most objectively perfect judgment.

They continued on to a section of the bunker that Kamukura was slightly less familiar with, as it was usually occupied by the other inhabitants, and he wasn’t one to socialize with them. (He wasn’t one to socialize with Enoshima, either, but she forced it upon him.) At some time, he’d heard the sounds of panic and stress echoing from that same direction, but it was her business, not his. It appeared that it was about to be his business, though.

Enoshima led him into an offshoot of the main hallway, her deranged humming increasing as they moved. It was never a good sign when she was so pleased.

The distorted music he’d listened to her perfect met his ears, laced with the edited screams of Ultimate students. Why was she playing the Despair-inducing video? Was there a “guest” he wasn’t aware of?

…Wait.

There would be.

If he wasn’t already aware of them.

“You’ve been so pressed over the battle of Hope and Despair, and I wanted to help you along—” Enoshima pushed a door open, and the sounds became clearer— “so you get to see Despair in action!”

A dim concrete room greeted the two of them, bathed only in the flashing lights and red glow of her video. In the center, a single chair sat askew with what appeared to be leather straps dangling from its arms and legs. The quick inspection with his Ultimate Analyst talent revealed a lack of tears in the leather outside of the usual signs of torture—fraying and scuffing. The occupant didn’t escape their containment, but they were released.

Speaking of, Kamukura’s gaze fell upon a figure settled on the floor, head pressed against their knees. It was reminiscent of a traditional Japanese deep bow—zarei, that is—but they were tense, shaking. Their hands dug into their hair and pulled against their scalp in this panicked manner, and that wasn’t even the part that set him off.

This figure, the victim of Junko Enoshima’s Despair-inducing video, was you.

“Turn it off.”

“Eh?”

His fist closed around Enoshima’s throat and tugged her close in an instant, dragging a garbled noise of surprise from her. “Turn the video off, or I will do it myself.”

Her eyes were wide at this new display, one he himself was quite unsure about, and she burst out in startled laughter. “Woooow! Okay, Mr. Assertive! It’s done the job anyway. This was mostly just for theatrics and funsies, to give a little pizzazz to your present—Hey, are you even listening?”

Kamukura was not. Oh, how he thought about bashing in her head at that moment. It would be quick and effortless on his part, ultimately ridding the world of her sick plan. But Enoshima wasn’t his priority; he was already crossing the floor toward your crumpled form, an uncharacteristically-loud heartbeat pounding in his ears. Odds of your being unharmed were slim, to say the least, and only dropping every second you didn’t move, but he called upon his Ultimate Luck to combat them.

Pristine black dress pants rubbed against the concrete as he settled on his knees next to you. Kamukura’s hand hovered over your back while he debated on the best course of action. What would he do if you were lost? Could he bring himself to hand you over to Enoshima, or would he go directly against her to repair a broken mind? Was it even possible for him to do such a thing?

Might still be in shock, he reminded himself. It was entirely possible that Enoshima had been bluffing. You were fine.

You had to be.

He let his hand run over your spine once. Twice. You remained, head pressed to your knees, though you shuddered at the touch.

Just ahead, the Despair-inducing video clicked off. Finally. He shot a glare at Enoshima and, by virtue of her sudden appearance, Ikusaba. Additionally, Tsumiki appeared to be peeking in from the doorway, and her twisted smile did nothing to calm his anxieties.

…Anxieties? The Ultimate Psychologist in his head once again raised a finger to say I told you so, but he ignored it.

Kamukura called for you, quietly at first. When he received no answer, he tried again, louder.

Something finally spilled from your lips, unintelligible and hushed. He wondered for a moment if what he felt at the sound was hope, but it quickly snapped away as your garbled noises continued and then transitioned into an objectively worse sound.

You were laughing.

No, you were crying.

It was both. You were hysterical.

Finally, finally, you sat up, and the “no signal” screen previously playing that maddening video kept your face under an eerie red light. The color illuminated the teartracks down your cheeks, and his heart clenched. Your gaze met his, and it sank.

Those kind eyes, the ones that made him feel warm, feel anything… were hazy and unfocused. The smile that set off the butterflies in his stomach, however few they were, twisted with insanity.

Tainted.

She’d broken you.

You. The one good thing in this spiraling world.

Kamukura cupped your cheek as you giggled something about his expression. He didn’t care to listen. He ran through the possible ways of repairing your mind and found that the list was both shorter and less possible than he’d initially thought. Human beings are fragile creatures, he reminded himself. You can’t hold one too tightly, or else it’ll hurt more when they break.

Perhaps this wasn’t what Enoshima had meant by seeing her work in action, but it got the point across.

His tears fell alongside yours.

It might be closer to Despair . . .

[vanillablankcanvas]

Thank you! I live for the dad Branch scenarios and headcanons! Do you think he is an overprotective dad? Especially with Harmony because she's his first child. Have he ever made her that weird outfit/armor which protects but poor kid can't move in it?😅

Dad Branch gives me life.

Poor worried Branch just had to go and make babies with a troublesome woman and make hyperactive troublesome babies.

Grey hairs will definitely be coming early for Branch.

I imagine he was VERY overprotective.

Not just from the general Branch anxiety + new dad anxiety but he is also raising the next Queen of the Pop Trolls!

He seriously not seriously considered a padded nursery.

Or a nursery bunker....?

I imagine he read all the parenting books he could find cover-to-cover.

Protective armor.

He has sketches for some. Poppy won't let him make it.

Baby gates and locks that John Dory can't open.

Security cameras everywhere.

Disinfecting everything over and over.

Maybe at some point something DOES happen to Harmony?

Maybe like her first fever or something?

Poppy has a talk with him about how they can protect her from the world as much as they want but the best thing they can do is help her when she does need it and teach her how to handle things when she does get's hurt.

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 protector: chapter thirteen

synopsis: " you were supposed to stay a crewate, just another back to watch, " he tightened his hold, " i didn't even notice the change until i woke up one day and realized i'd take a bullet for you "

cw: violence, gore, fighting, mature themes, profanity, MAJOR/MINOR ANIME SPOILERS, follows the plot of the anime, slowww burn.

a/n: reposting from another account

You woke up to the stale smell of disinfectant and bandages, the scent already telling you that you were in some sort of infirmary.

"Crap," you hissed, looking down at yourself.

You sat up and swung your legs over to the side of the bed, allowing yourself to get up and walk out the building, the idea of shoes being pushed far back in your memory.

The night was warm and when you made it to the town square, you could only smile, as everyone was passed out, sleepy grins on everyone's faces.

You walked over to a sake stand to see Sanji sitting propped up against a wall, sleeping happily with about three women under him.

You lightly snickered and grabbed a big sake bottle, turning around to take a walk.

The moon was beautifully full, its brilliant light bathing the whole town.

You smiled to yourself as you popped the cork of the bottle, taking a big swig as you continued down the main road. 

"Finally woke up?" a familiar voice asked.

Your breath hitched and you quickly turned to where the voice came from, only to see Zoro in an alley, sitting on a bench with a candle stand illuminating half of his face.

You took a breath of relief and walked over, sitting on the floor across from him.

The two of you sat there in silence for a few minutes, taking swigs of your respective bottles, when he spoke up again.

"How did you heal so quickly?" he started, his tone serious as he turned to look up at the moon.

The air caught in your throat.

'Crap! Came straight out the gate with it.'

He noticed your hesitation and sighed, crossing his arms.

"If you don't wanna tell me, you don't have to. But just know that people'll start becoming suspicious if one minute you look an inch from death and the next you're the image of perfect health."

"I know that," you snappily answered, gripping the fabric of your skirt tight.

He cocked a brow at your sudden change in tone.

"Believe me, I know that more than you will ever realize. My entire life has revolved around the fact that I can do what I can do. But I made a promise to someone that I wouldn't let anyone use my power for their gain."

You looked down at your lap, unable to bare his eye contact for a second more.

He was staring into your soul, so intensely that it was as if he could see into you, and maybe even a little past that.

"To heal in front of people would bring too much attention. It's not like I can completely control it anyway. And even if I could I—" "Do you really take us as those kinds of people?" he quickly and firmly interrupted.

Your heart stopped and the breath caught in your throat.

"I couldn't... I couldn't take that chance. Not after what I've been through." 

You looked up from your lap, nervous to see the swordsman's reaction.

But to your surprise, his features softened, and he took a long swig of his sake bottle.

"I'm not gonna force you to tell me something you're not comfortable with," he started, wiping the excess alcohol that ran down his lips.

It made you feel hot, and you did your best to discreetly shift your position.

"Just know that when you're ready, if you're ever ready, I'll be here."

A small smile crept onto your lips, and you loosened your grip on your bottle, smiling down at it

"Thanks, Zoro."

His signature smirk found his way to his face, and he gave you a sincere look.

"Don't mention it."

The two of you stayed in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying the nighttime symphony that the sleepy island had to offer.

"And, (y/n)," Zoro chimed, resting his arms on the back of the bench.

"Yeah?"

"I remembered what you asked when we first met. And I wanted to say I'm sorry. I don't know who Doflamingo is. Never heard of him, or even seen him before."

You softly smiled, turning your attention to the moon once more.

"I figured as much, and it's alright. I'll find my own way to Doflamingo. I'm bound to run into him somewhere on the Grand Line."

Your smile slowly morphed into a smirk as you drew your mace, carefully gliding your fingers over the sharpened spikes.

"And when I do... it'll be my personal pleasure to make sure that this mace is the last thing he ever sees."

"This is the last one, right?" Usopp asked as Zoro brought the last two crates of provisions onto the Merry.

"Yeah," the swordsman nodded, hoisting himself up on deck.

"Alright. We're stocked up with everything we need. I think we're good to go," Sanji smiled.

"It'll be nice to get back out on the open sea," you happily sighed from your spot on the taffrail.

"We can't than you enough for everything you've done for us, but we gotta go back to our regular jobs as bounty hunters," Yosaku chimed from the dock below, him and Johnny in some weird pose.

"So, this is goodbye. I hope we get to meet again someday," Johnny waved.

Zoro smirked, his hand resting on the hilt of his swords, "See ya 'round."

"Yeah! Now it's time for us to get going," Usopp cheesed.

"Huh? What about Nami?" you asked, cocking a brow.

"Yeah! We can't leave without her!" Sanji exclaimed.

"Well maybe she's not coming," Zoro shrugged.

Sanji gasped, "Huh?! Why wouldn't she?! I swear if you hit on her, mosshead, I'll kick you into next week!"

Something in the back of your head made you listen closer to Zoro's reply, to see what he would say, or rather, what you hoped he wouldn't say.

For personal reasons... unknown at the moment.

"Why would I do something like that?" Zoro scoffed, confused.

You released a breath you didn't even realize you were holding.

"She has to come! Without her, I have like 99.72% less reason to stay with you people on this stupid pirate ship!"

"Hey!" you pouted.

"Sorry, (y/n), my dear. 49.86%" Sanji quickly corrected.

"Can you guys just—" "Hey, Nami!" you smiled, waving to the red-headed girl who stood on a hill.

"NAMI!" Sanji squealed, leaning over the edge of the boat to get a good look at her.

"Set the sails!" she shouted, sprinting towards the boat.

The whole crew paused, sharing confused looks.

"I'm not getting it. Why is she running?" Usopp asked, scratching his head.

"She said set the sails!" Luffy nodded, tipping his hat, "SET SAIL!"

You smiled, unfurling your wings and flying up to the main mast, untying the ropes that kept the primary sail taught.

Zoro went off to pull up the anchor, Usopp turning the angle of the upper yard, while Luffy and Sanji watched Nami draw closer.

"You sure you wanna let her leave like this?" Sanji asked, cigarette in hand.

"It's her decision. She does what she wants," Luffy shrugged.

Sitting on the upper yard, you watched Nami weave through the the crowd of villagers until she made it to the end of the dock, of which she jumped off and landed on deck.

The shouts of the villagers quieted as she stood there, slowly lifting up her shirt, a plethora of wallets and purses falling out from under it.

"Thanks a bunch!" she smiled as she turned to the crowd, giving a berry note a peck. 

"Nice snag," you approved, flying down and landing next to her.

"She's still the same," Usopp sighed.

"I'd watch my back," Zoro pouted, glaring at the woman. 

Unserious, of course.

Luffy laughed heartily as the island started to become farther and farther away.

"You lousy pickpocket! We'll miss you!" Genzo shouted, smiling.

"Goodbye, everybody! I'll miss you! Take care!" She cheesed, waving goodbye to all her friends and family.

It made you smile. 

Nami and Genzo's relationship reminded you of how a certain someone used to be.

You leaned on the taffrail, your grip on it tightening at the memory.

'Cora.'

[sweetyluvs]

Hi!!! i hope ur doing well, remember to take care of urself💕💘can i please request 7 with ellie where she’s still been living in jackson for maybe a little over a yr & a half, and she and reader are like 17 and they aren’t really friends but like eachother secretly and reader is a medic trainee, and is the one to fix up ellie? tysm!

𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

ellie williams x fem! reader - drabble

hi! thank you for requesting. I honestly i appreciate your words! i don’t really like how i wrote this, but I hope you do! but anyways, enjoy🌷💕

tags - blood, bruises, slight/medic! reader, Soft! ellie, lowkey ooc! ellie, make out, remind me if i forgot any!!

Your eyes scanned the opening wooden gates of the entrance to Jackson, watching the most recent patrol come back. Ellie was apart of that patrol, you weren't exactly friends with her, but you two had a few conversations. the first time you spoke, She was funny, very nervous, red faced, sarcastic, but, overall, rather kind. she was your age, back when you were 15, and as such, your parents had urged you to make her feel welcomed since she had only been there for a few months.

It had been a little over a year and a half that she'd been staying in Jackson with Joel, and yet your parents are still continuously urging you to befriend her; even though you both have mutual friends. You don't know what your parents psycho-crazy obsession with you befriending ellie is, but you didn't exactly have a direct issue with it. besides the constant nagging. but what you hadn’t expected, was to feel an all too familiar pounding in your chest. you hadn’t expected to fall for Ellie, and now you had to live with the feelings.

Your name was called back to the Medical house, asking if you could assist in bandaging a quick cut before the patrol comes in for an injury check. you accepted, rushing over.

"Hello," you smile down to the little girl sitting in the chair, her cheeks stained with tears. "how'd this happen?" you question, eyes moving to the small scrape on her pointer finger.

"i-i was playing and-and i fell and hurt my finger," she says through light cries. You smiled sympathy, reaching over for some disinfectant and a bandage. "oh, no. well, luckily it's not bad. l'll just put some of this stuff," you hold up the disinfectant, watching as the little girls blue eyes snap to it.

"on it, and it'll make it feel much, much better." you announce, nodding your head with the girls upon her approval.

You put a small amount of the disinfectant cream on her finger gently, laughing lightly as she let out a dramatic flinch. she watched carefully as you than took the bandaid and wrapping it carefully around her finger.

"there, all better." the little girl smiles, her cheeks rosy. “thank you!” she grins, jumping off from her seat at the medical table and rushing to her mom, showing her the bandage on her hand. you sent a friendly smile to the mother, earning one in return before loud voices flooded the room.

You spun on your heal, hair moving lightly as your eyes scanned the small group of people.

Jesse, Dina, Ellie, Joel, Tommy and Maria, the big group that all, somehow, had connections to each other. You let out a sigh, preparing yourself to treat the ones who are actually hurt.

you glanced to the other doctor, seeing as how she was busy, you decided to take initiative. you walked up to them, nervously, and caught their attention.

"hi, if you are wounded please come with me," you interrupted politely, shoving down the nervous bubble in your tummy. "and if you aren't, i'm going to have to ask you to leave." Tommy smiled, patting your shoulder. "alright, you heard her ya'll, let's head out." he announced, wrapping his arm around his brothers shoulder, Maria rolling her eyes at the action, following after the two. Jesse and Dina not far behind.

you turned to the only remaining person; Ellie. she seemed fine, only light specks of blood you knew weren't hers littered on her cheek. you sent her a friendly smile before motioning for her to follow you. She did, tripping over her untied shoe laces shortly before stuttering after you.

You offered her to sit down in a private room, closing the curtains as to not disturb the other wounded.

“How was your patrol today?” you questions easily, fixing up some more disinfectant and some bandages, along with other supplies. “uh— it was good.. you know, the usual..” she says, voice crackling lightly before she clears her throat. “how was your day?”

you smiled at her question, even though she couldn’t see it. “It was okay, thank you. I’m glad to hear your patrol didn’t go terribly wrong.” ellie huffed, nodding her head. “me too. Tommy and Joel’s was bad the other day.”

“i heard about that. Joel came in here with a big gash on his arm. had to stich it up for him. hows he doing, by the way?” you turn on your heal to face her, seeing the way she snapped her staring green eyes to the floor quickly, making you fight a small grin.

“uh— he’s good. he was saying how when you stitched him up it didn’t hurt and you did a ‘very professional job.’” she quotes, and you crack a laugh; missing how her eyes stare at the details of your smile. “I’m glad he thought so.” you met her eyes and she went red. “where are your injuries?” you move on, watching as she shakes her head to, most likely, clear her head. “uh— on my knees.”

you nod, approaching her with your prepared supplies. You get on your knees, missing how ellie’s eyes blow wide and cheeks spew with the cherry blossom color of flush. “do you mind?” you ask softly, hands reaching for the bottom of her jeans to roll them up. She’s completely silent for a moment before she stutters out. “u-uh no, nope. go ahead.”

you huff a laugh, rolling up her pants. Her skin was rather pale on her legs, most likely due to wearing jeans most of her days out in the sun. The pants rolled above , revealing a few nasty cuts and scrapes. “ouch.” you grimace, reaching for the disinfectant. “how’d this happen? did you fall?”

Ellie was so entranced by seeing you bending down by her legs, your words almost didn’t make her ears. She blinked comedically, nodding her head although you couldn’t see it. “Y-yeah. Had a bunch of infected running after me and jesse. we had to crawl into this small space and once we came out i slipped.. and fell on the ground.” she embarrassingly admitted, face now rosy from the humiliation. “hey, at least these aren’t bad. A few weeks and you’ll be good as knew.” you affirmed, finally gently wrapping the bandage around her. you could feel her lightly shaking, but you blamed it on the chilly autumn air.

you finished up and moved on your knees to get to her other leg, rolling up her jeans— this time you were met with a massive, newly forming bruise alongside a slice.

“oh, wow.” you whispered, and ellie shuttered. “This looks really painful. Don’t worry, you got me.” you joked, giggling at ellie’s nervous laugh. You reached for the ice pack, halting lightly.

ellie noticed, brow raising. “what happened?” you looked up to her, and something about seeing you do so sent her heart into cardiac arrest. “well, you can’t really put bandaids or anything on bruises, so when i was little my mom would..” you cut off, looking down and squinting, contemplating your words. Ellie continued to look at you, a growing knot in her throat.

you placed down the ice pack beside your knee, scooting a little closer to ellie’s and gently placing both your hands on either side of her knee to avoid her bruise. You caught onto how she became a little more shaky, her breaths becoming lightly more loud.

you bent your neck forward, you lips meeting her bruise. You stayed like that for a few seconds, feeling ellie stiffen under your touch. You pulled away with a light ‘puck’.

you blinked a few times, moving your fingers around her wound gently before removing your hands. You looked up, and her auburn green eyes were staring at you wide; shock, along with something else you didn’t know, present in her pupils. Her lips were lightly parted, face redder than any tomato you’ve ever seen.

“she’d kiss it better.” you whispered, almost in a trance from looking to her eyes. You’ve seen how beautiful her eyes were, the green swirling in them like a forest of beauty; the colors bringing out her auburn hair and cute spotted cheeks.

your eyes refused to look from hers, it was almost scary how much you couldn’t help but look. A breaking bottle from the wall beside you snapped you out of your trance, whipping your eyes down to the ice pad.

“um.. you can ice it for the next few days to help it heal faster.” you mumbled, your voice suddenly evaporating.

you stood from your knees, avoiding Ellie’s staring eyes and the blush on your cheeks while reaching out for her to take the ice pack.

but, she doesn’t. your arm is continuously outstretched, waiting. when her hand never takes what you offered, you hesitantly turn back to her.

oh god.

the look in her eyes matched yours when you saw her. the love swirling in her pupils, patches of admiration and compassion flooding them; want and desire.. you saw yourself in the reflection, and before you knew it— you’d tossed the ice pack to the floor— hands reaching for ellie’s face as you pushed your lips on hers.

Ellie didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, shock flooding her body for only a second before her lips desperately tried to taste yours more and more. You stepped impossibly closer, standing between her now spread legs. The kiss was innocent, yet desperate; unsaid words spilling out of you through your lips on one another’s. Her hands were mid air for a few moments, unsure of where to go before they find an awkward place on your elbows, pulling you closer.

ellie’s lips dig into yours, sounds of your mouth on hers filling the silent room rather loudly. Gosh, you knew this was unprofessional, but you couldn’t exactly stop.

you pushed yourself against her, allowing her hands to slide from your elbows down to your waist, grabbing your shirt. you hummed into the make out, turning your head to the left to get a better angle of the kiss. your tongue had just began to meet hers for the first time when your body’s need for oxygen had never upset you as much as it had now, ushering you to pull back as you took in a large inhale— Panting as the line of saliva disconnected between you and ellie. she was panting too, her face somehow even more red, hands still on your waist as you removed yours from her face to wipe your lips.

suddenly, what you’d done hit you like a truck, and you basically flew out of her grasp.

“god— i’m so sorry, i-i don’t know what just happened! one second i was there then i kissed you and—”

You were cut off once again when she stood up and shut you up by placing a softer kiss to your lips, the small action making you stare at her.

“it’s okay— i.. i liked it.” she said, having a hard time meeting your eyes. “i like you.”

as though time had stopped, you listend as she confessed and you saw heaven.

“what?”

“i.. like you.”

you laughed a little, watching as a confused look crossed her face. “i like you, too, ellie.” now it was her turn to be surprised, although you would’ve guessed she knew by the fact you just made out with her.

she laughed along with you, blush coating your cheeks at the nervous confessions you both had admitted to.

“you definitely kissed me better,” Ellie teased, her voice shy and nervous, but confident.

you rolled your eyes lightly. “shut up, dork.” you pulled her closer, latching your lips to hers again.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Hi I really loved your Xavier one shot and I wanted to request one if you don’t mind <3 So it’s Wednesdays birthday she invites reader and enid who are her roommates to a girls night out but she was lying to them and turns out she was taking them to the old gates mansion to investigate ( basically the scene were Wednesday and enid get in the car with Tyler and end up at the gates mansion just add the reader ) and once there and the monster attacks them reader gets hurt while jumping from the fence and they meet Xavier and go to Tyler’s house and Xavier helps reader clean her arm and when they go back to nevermore he offers her to sleep in his dorm because he had seen the panic she’s in when enids phone rang and she jumped <3 ( sorry it’s really long and detailed I hope u don’t mind it’s friends to lovers btw ) 

It´s done, anon. <3 I ended up changing it up a teeny tiny bit, but I hope you still like it!

You could have called me

pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader

synopsis: You get hurt while exploring the Gates mansion. What comes out of it is something much happier.

warnings: mentions of injury

word count: 1.2k

You suck in a harsh breath as you first feel the sting of the disinfectant on your wound. Your arm instinctively flinching away from Xaviers gentle hands. It isn´t too deep, you were lucky he tells you, but it still hurts like hell.

“I´m sorry.” He whispers in an apologetic tone.

“It´s okay.” You assure him to continue. Your voice barely above a breath as it forces its way through your clenched teeth. Trying to take deep, calming breaths as the alcohol continues to sting your wounds.

“Does it hurt much? The wound?” He asks while taking a bandage to your arm.

You shake your head no. “I can barely feel it. Probably still the shock…”

“Yeah, probably.” Xavier goes back to concentrating on patching you up for a bit.

The silence between you that always had been comfortable now makes you feel on edge.

“Will it look like yours once it is healed?” You let your fingers run over his neck, where his scars stand out from the rest of his pale skin in a pink hue, softly.

“Yeah, I think. It should be deep enough to scar. The monster got you pretty good.” The two of you each huff a laugh.

It feels so good to laugh and as he moves to tie up the bandage you rest your hand on his cheek. His face is so close, that for a moment it feels like you are about to kiss.

That moment immediately gets destroyed by steps coming closer.

“We gotta go.” Wednesday informs you in her usual monotone voice. If tonight has affected her in any way, her face doesn´t show a single bit of it.

You nod, taking your ripped jacket of the chair and heading out of the house. Xavier following close.

The four of you make your way half way back to the school when Enid´s phone rings. The quiet of the night makes the sound seem even louder than it. The suddenness of it, makes you jump.

“Hey, you´re okay. You´re safe.” Xaviers soothing voice brings you back to reality. A reality where you have grabbed onto his arm and your body trembles.

“Sorry…” This time it is your turn to apologize.

“It´s okay.” He murmurs, secretly wishing for you to hold onto him longer as your fingers let go of his arm.

The rest of your way back luckily goes by without any more instances, though you never quite relax.

It´s hard from parting your friends, but especially the safety Xavier´s presence brings you, when you reach the dorms. Wednesday and Enid are quick to leave the two of you out in the dark. In silence.

“I…” You try to say something, but the words die in your throat.

“Do you maybe want to stay with me tonight? Just to calm the nerves…” He speaks slowly. Carefully choosing his words.

“That would be nice.” A thankful expression takes over your face.

He takes your hand and pulls you with him. The contact making your skin feel warm and a sense of calm take over your body.

Xavier leads you up to his room where he lets go of your hand to prepare the empty second bed for you to sleep in.

“Thank you, for letting me sleep here, Xav.” You lay down carefully as to not lay on the wounded arm and hurt yourself more.

“Anything for you. If you need anything else just tell me, alright?” He asks, worry still apparent in his tone.

“Alright…” You echo quietly.

“Do you want the lights on or off?” He looks at you with soft eyes and an even softer voice.

“On, please. If that´s okay.” You hum in response.

“Of course it is. Try to sleep now. Your body will need it to heal.” He sighs and goes over to his own bed.

The lights from his bedside table and desk lamp tinge the room in a soft, warm glow. Under different circumstances you would have thought it to be comfortable or even romantic, but right now as you stare at the ceiling it helps little to lift the anxiety off your chest. The room gets shrouded in silence once more pictures start to flash behind your eyes. Pictures of the gates mention, of running for your life and how those claws tore at your skin.

You don´t remember when your eyes must have fallen shut, but when you look at the time on your phone it hasn´t been long. Your heart is beating out of your chest and a light sheen of sweat covers your body.

With heavy limbs you kick the blanket off and move to the bathroom. The cold water feels nice on your face and helps you think clearly again. Yet, when you step back inside the room, you can´t bring yourself to crawl back into that lonely bed again.

“Xavi?” You whisper. “Xav, are you awake?”

“I am. What do you need?” Comes his answer from beneath the sheets.

“I can´t sleep alone. Can I lie with you? Only for a bit.” You shift your weight from one foot to the other and play with your fingers as you wait for his answer.

His reply comes in the form of wordlessly rolling over to make room for you.

The bed is small and so it forces you into a very close proximity already, but you cuddle up as close to him as possible. His arms laid around your middle and yours on top of his. Your fingertips run over his arms with feather light motions. It´s calming, helps forget the images in your head. Moving up slowly until you reach the side of his neck again. Laying your hand against it, you realize how close you truly are. Xavier´s warm breath fans over your face as you hold yours and then as if you had the same thought at the same moment, you move in for a kiss. It´s languid, but comfortable. It feels like your lips were made for his surprisingly soft ones only. The slow movements never speed up. It´s just you two in your own perfect, safe, little world.

When you eventually do part from each other, your breath comes in heavy bursts. Your eyes switching between his olive ones. Tracing the brown surroundings of his pupil. Neither of them can think of anything to say. Not a single word.

“I could´ve lost you today.” Xavier breathes first. “I love you.”

His confession is overwhelming. “I love you too. You´ll never lose me.”

“No, but I could have. What if that… thing had gotten to you. Or I don´t know something else could have gone wrong. That house is old, you shouldn´t have gone in there no matter for what.”

“Shhh, I know. I didn´t even know where we were going and when I did it was too late to leave. Wednesday was so hellbent on going in the mansion I couldn´t let her and Enid go alone. Not with Tyler. The only one of them wo knows self-defense is Wednesday and even she couldn´t fight off a monster alone.”

“You could have called me…”

Only then it dawns on you both, what you have just confessed with a nonchalance as if you had spoken the words a hundred times before. `I love you´. The three words hang in the air between you. He presses his lips to yours once more. The rest was a conversation for when you had recovered from the night.

[turbulentscrawl]

Teehee hello hello!

Can I request Norton Campbell with an s/o (preferably male but gender neutral is fine too) born from nobility that acts like the opposite of him. They've been through so much in life, almost at par with his or probably worse. And yet they still care about the others, putting everyone else first before them. They are also a little too reckless, often doing body blocks from the hunter. They know how people can be cruel but they're still generous and thoughtful, although knowing when to stop and prevent themselves from being trampled over.

This is the first request I ever received here!

Just to be totally transparent, this one took so long to fill because I honestly don’t like the noble/wealthy reader x Norton dynamic. (As I’ve said several times before, he hates the rich. And being “the exception” to hatred/bias is neither a safe nor a healthy relationship.)  I’m still willing to accept requests for it…but the time I spend filling them will be far between, and frankly they won’t be the sweetest things you’ve ever read.

“So what the fuck was that supposed to be?” Norton asks as he approaches you in the infirmary. You look at him quizzically, and it’s a welcome distraction from Emily’s aching efforts to remove the spikes lodged in your back.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Don’t,” Norton snaps, though a bit more quietly after a pointed look from Emily. “Don’t play dumb. I’m talking about your reckless behavior in that match. In ALL the matches. We already had a win. We were at. The. Gate. And you went back? Against the fastest Hunters possible, no less.” To be more precise, you, Norton, and Emma were at the gate. Three of your four-man team.

“I wasn’t going to leave Jose like that,” you explain, recalling how he’d struggled against the restraints of the rocket chair. People’s desperation in those moments always made your heart bleed. Jose didn’t want to die anymore than you or anyone else did. Regardless of the method.

“So you thought it was smart to go marching back out to try and collect him,” Norton says. Emily is trying very hard to look like she isn’t taking in any of your conversation. One of those spikes finally comes out, and you hiss at the sting. Emily applies a disinfectant, and presses hard on your back to staunch the flow of blood. Norton somehow scowls more at your pained expression, and you have to remind yourself it was mostly out of concern.

“I did collect him,” you correct through pain-clenched teeth.

“And nearly got yourself chaired in the process. Then what? We’d still have a three-man win, plus the injuries to attend to.”

“But I didn’t, and now we’ve a four-man win,” you express softly. Norton throws his hands in the air, looking about ready to toss the infirmary. You have to remind yourself, too, about all he’s been through. By himself. That the selfish mindsets he has are born of strategy and survival, and not empathy.

Norton pauses in his pacing and looks at Emily. She finishes applying the bandage to the wound she’d opened, saying, “Don’t take too long. I still have to dig out all the little broken pieces.” You almost tell her not to worry, that they’ll be gone and healed tomorrow, but suspect she runs this infirmary to keep her own skills sharp as much as for everyone’s comfort. When the door was shut, Norton dragged a chair in front of your bed and sat down, straddling it backwards.

“You have to stop assuming you’ll be able to accomplish every good deed your head conjures up,” he says, cutting to the point. You’ve had this conversation many times before, and it always hurts when he brings it up again.

“I can’t, Norton,” you say. “You know I can’t.”

“You can,” he insists. “If I can get over my distaste of you being rich, if I can work with people I don’t like, keep the hunters off them in the middle of matches, then you can stop trying to play knight-in-shining-armor. Everyone here knows what we’re in for and that sacrifices have to be made sometimes. Yeah, sometimes your little plans work out for you. Today it did. But your plans have gone ass-up sometimes, too, and it costs us. A draw is not a win, okay? And at the end of the day, we’re all still hoping for some kind of reward for these wins. So if we have a win already, take it. I already hate you gambling your own safety, but it’s more than that too.”

“I can’t just accept that,” you finally say to him after a long, thinking pause. “This place…is so awful. If we don’t try to look out for one another, we’ve got nothing. When I see the others hurt, or scared…I can’t just leave them to think they’re suffering that alone. And it’s not like I just let everyone walk all over me.” Norton grunts a bit and stands from his seat. He’s clearly annoyed, but he ruffles your hair a bit in spite of that. A sign that he just needs time to calm down.

“Looking out for people doesn’t just mean bleeding for them,” he says, turning to leave the room. “I’ll send the doc back in. Rest up, see you at dinner.”

He shuts the door behind himself, leaving you in a quiet, white room, with no solution in sight to this repeat disagreement.

[thesorcerersapprenticeu]

Chapter 1: Teeth and Leaves

"Um, Dad. Can you heal this with a Healing Spell?"

There you were. Y/N L/N, the little boy of the house of L/N. A family that was known for science where everything was divided into rules and senses. Rationality and logic were everything to the family, figures of commerce, new technologies or inventions that were used almost everywhere.

You weren't like that.

You believed in magic. The Impossible.

You've been interested in it ever since you could read. In books where people summon a monster with a spell, heal people or shoot fireworks into the air with magic. That's what you lived for, and that's probably what you would give your life for.

However, Piltover is not a place for magic. And the house of the L/N even less so.

"No, Y/N. You must quickly clean the wound and disinfect it."

You were standing in the laboratory, far below your father and just tall enough to see the shelves and glass cabinets. It was a huge laboratory, windows everywhere and equipment shining in white light.

You weren't blessed with height or strength as a child, and worst of all, you weren't blessed with a mind like your parents and siblings. They will all attend the Academy and go into the scientific inventor field, as everyone in your family was destined to do. Except for you.

"If we do not clean the wound, there's a chance that it would get infected and slow down the hearing process. If that happens, the wound would become Necrotic and in the wort case Scenario, You'll die"

"Mom, would I die if I become a Necrotic?"

"No"

With that, your mother entered the lab. Straight magenta colored hair, which was tied in a knot. Underneath her bored purple eyes and a stoic expression that she always wore in the lab. She was wearing a long white lab coat, exactly the same as your father. Only a black T-shirt and dark trousers underneath.

"If we treat it properly, the chances of you dying are 0.01%. Don't bother us with every little cut and injury. You must learn to deal with situations by yourself."

You didn't understand most of it, whether from your father or your mother. They often talked in these scientific terms, and your brain always felt like ice in the microwave.

"Thats right, Y/N. What are you stupid?"

"Idiot Y/N"

That was your big brother and big sister. In lab coats, with safety goggles and both with test tubes in their hands as they turn to you and talk you down. They were a couple of years older than you, and at the same time the gold pieces of the family. It had been clear since they were born that they would go to the Academy, studying science directly under Professor Heimerdinger.

But what did you have? A book about magic that you once found on an old shelf. To be honest, you hardly understood it, it wasn't the language you knew, but some hieroglyphics. However, there were often drawings of experiments that were recorded.

And so you stood outside the house again. On the large meadow that separates the entrance gate from the huge house. You were wearing a wizard's hat that you had bought in the city, a long scarf that was wrapped twice around your neck but still reached almost to the ground. Pajama pants and boots that you once got for your birthday. In one hand you had the spell book, you were on one of the first pages, a big snowman was depicted there and a magic formula underneath. In the other hand you had a stick, long and already slightly broken, but that didn't stop your imagination. It was a magic wand.

( "Hey big brother, big sister, Is it possible to summon this monster and bring it to life?" )

("What are you talking about, Dumbass? How many times have we told you? The Monster is a figment of imagination. Theres no such thing as Magic, Idiot!"

Are you going about Magic Again, Y/N!? We told you not to read such garbage Idiot!!!"  )

But now you were standing here, the only thing in your way was your own imagination, but it was huge, and that you couldn't read the magic formula.

[ Theres no Magic in My house.]

"O Fearsome snow golem."

You pick up the stick and look down at the snowman you had built. On the ground beneath the snowman, you had drawn the characters from the book on the ground like crazy. A big circle, the snowman in the middle, and around it various shapes made of lines and letters.

"Give me your strength. I Summon the Guardian of the Snow"

Nothing happened.

"Give me your strength! Guardian of the Snow!"

Then something happened.

But not what you had hoped for.

"Shut up Y/N!"

"Cuz of you, we can't focus on our Experiments, IDIOT!"

Your brother and sister come through the huge door of the house, stomp down the stairs and stand right in front of you in the snow.

You were afraid, they rarely got really loud. But this time you have the feeling you've gone too far.

But surely an explanation would help, wouldn't it?

"I...I was practicing magic. I wanted a pet, so...

That's as far as you get until you hear your brother.

"Why, you stupid little"

At that moment, everything went into slow motion.

Your brother grabbed your magic stick from your hand and broke it in two with his knee. Your sister stood up straight, slowly chopped your leg and with one kick she smashed through the snowman you had built.

"How many times have we told you to not Talk about Magic!!!"

"Stupid Good-For-Nothing!"

"Mom! Dad! Y/N is Practicing Magic again!"

"Are you Sure he's even related to us!"

Tears threatened to flow out of your cold eyes. You had already forgotten that you still had your mouth open out of shock. You were completely absent-minded until you heard your father.

"Snow is Composed of Frozen Water Crystals. But they also Contain Dirt Particles that were Circulating in the Air. So please wash your Hands before Coming inside."

You started to listen properly.

"We are Scientists of The Kingdom Piltover, Y/N. Our Duty is to Observe, Research, and explain the natural phenomena...

"People who foolishly believe in the Impossible as Magic. Are Not wanted in this House."

Your nose was already running from the cold, your eyes were full of tears that were already streaming down your face. And with that, one last look at the snow below you. The head of the snowman, whose carrot was already further away, and the sticks poking through his head. And at the same time your sister, who, before kicking it through, wiped away the symbols on the ground with her feet.

You start to cry.

"Yeah, he definitely got the short end of the Gene Pool."

"We wasted so much time because of that Idiot. Back to Research, Research!"

Scientists of the Piltover Kingdom, my Ass.

You reject Magic because you can't Explain it in a scientific Manner.

You don't even try to understand the Sadness within my heart.

Your gaze fell on the spell book, open and completely dirty. After all, it was lying in the snow and your brother had stepped on it.

I Truly believe that Magic does exist.

When I first read this book, I was so excited that I couldn't sleep the entire night.

None of you can Explain that I felt in that Moment.

You searched for Magic every day...

Unlike the Rest of your Family, you liked Dealing with Fiction rather than Facts. If Your family likes to brush off Fiction as Magic, then you Believe that the World is filled with Magic and Adventures. That Indescribable Feeling...That Indescribable Sadness.

You just can't explain it...

And then it happened...

Piltover's bridge was consumed by a cloud of thick, red smoke. Ash Floats through the air, gently being guided by the wind which blew. You could hear the wind as it slowly passed by your ears, and as soon as it did, it was gone again.

From far away your ears hear an explosion, a formal shockwave that you feel under your feet and tries to drive you away. Then you hear shouting. People shouting names, orders or threats. The panic rises with every second in your little body, your blood pumps faster, your heart pounds and your ears ring.

Then there they were, the enforcers.

They charge through the red clouds, their red eyes reflecting the chaos around you, while their weapon in their hands is the cause of the chaos. They march through the red clouds past you while you don't move a bit. It was as if you weren't even there.

With a click, you hear bullets fall from their guns...which means they were shooting at something...someone.

They look around, turn their heads towards each other and talk to each other. With a risky look, you see what exactly they are doing...The three of them crouched over the bodies of two people. They murmur under their armor and do not move.

The whole atmosphere, the fire and the smoke. It smells like death, you'd never smelled it before, but you knew that's what it was.

How did you end up here?

And why all this?

You knew that there was an underworld, the town across the river from Piltover, called Zaun. Your parents always warned you about it. Only the Dangerous People lived there, the ones who would give anything to survive. The Low People who live in the trash of Piltover.

But what did the Undercity have to cause such a riot? All the death, all the destruction... Where was the sense your parents always talked about?

Then you will see something from afar.

At first you thought the silhouettes were enforcers stepping out of the smoke and shooting down the nearest survivors.

But that wasn't it.

Two girls came out of the smoke a few meters in front of you.

But before your eyes could register them, they had already run into the next cloud of smoke. The only thing in your mind at that moment was the song you heard coming from all the destruction.

Your eyes saw all the destruction, the death of the people who either died from the red smoke or were shot by the enforcers. At the same time you heard this voice, calm and like an attempt to tell you "Everything will be alright". It was like magic.

You move.

In the direction of the voice.

In the hope that all will be well again.

Nothing was good.

You began to doubt, in the eye of the storm.

[ " Theres no such thing as Magic " ]

[ " People who foolishly believe in magic are not wanted in this House " ]

[ " Idiot Y/N " ]

Shut up.

 Stop.

[ " FAILURE!!! " ]

I hate this...

My...My Magic...

The smoke around you slowly grew darker and for the most part only reflected the darkness of the night. The light on Piltover's bridge. The fire remained in the sky, leaving behind a certain heaviness in your breathing. You began to cry with pure despair.

All your life, your parents, your siblings and every person you've ever met have told you that the Undercity is dangerous.

What had people done to deserve this?

And why were you here?

"Haah"

"Haah"

"Haah"

"Haah"

Breathing gets harder, but your little legs carry you on. Your eyes can't focus on the ground in front of you, firstly because of the fire burning everywhere and coloring everything red. And all the corpses lying under your feet on the path. The only thing you notice is this voice.

Your breath appears in front of you, from your mouth, cold and yet it opens a path through the clouds of red smoke. Your scarf hangs down your body, down to your knees, no longer making a sound with each step. In your left bent arm you have your book...your magic book.

I have to get back to my family.

What am I doing here?

At that moment you heard it clearer than before...the singing.

Then you hear footsteps right next to you.

At that moment, your eyes met those of a man. He was much taller than you, broader and probably an enforcer. Your eyes wander around, his dark hair and gray eyes barely noticeable. He's wearing a brown leather jacket over a white undershirt, which looked like a challenge in the red surroundings. Then your eyes automatically stop on his left arm and it takes you a second to recognize it.

There was blood on his hand.

Suddenly his eyes meet yours.

Your hands start to sweat, out here in the cold. The singing stops and you don't process it until he turns to you.

On his right hand he had two children, two girls.

The one girl was taller than you. Red hair and a face that held a distraught expression. She was wearing a shirt that left both of her fair toned arms completely exposed to the surroundings of this calamity. A pair of pants with a belt that was already black on the sides due to the fire that was still burning everywhere.

Next to her, a girl as tall as you. Short blue hair braided into roughly chopped, chin-length bangs that stopped just short of her shoulders. A thin brown jacket over a blue fiber sweater. Blue-Grey eyes that were focused on you, in this whole thing they were focused on you.

You know immediately that they are sisters. Something connects them, something...magical.

"Hey Kid...

He came closer to you, while you didn't move away a bit. You had the feeling... that he was the reason for this riot. He bent down, still holding his right arm in front of the two girls, who already have their eyes on you. Your left arm starts to tremble slightly, you try to suppress it, after all, your Magic Book was there.

Then he spoke again.

"Do you believe in the Impossible?"

[verdemoun]

I can’t see all of them being able to drive well but I also can’t see that fact stopping them. Maybe for some angst, who is the first in a car accident?

oh two part-er

first while not technically a car accident kieran was very literally hit by a car his first day in timewarp, and not a light tap. he was thrown, broken arm, bruised ribs, head slammed into the asphalt so hard he saw spots and passed out. his introduction to modern era was the chaotic horror of an emergency room, searing fluorescent lights, the stink of disinfectant and strangers in alien hospital uniform repeatedly asking what his name was.

kieran duffy wasn't remembered as a van der linde. he wasn't remembered at all. bessie had no way of connecting the dots that so much of mary-beth's novels were true until lenny started reading them. so with the hospital mandated bare minimum to a seemingly homeless man who stammered about O'Driscolls and his gang, he got turned back out onto the streets with a few days of painkillers and a shoddy cast on his arm.

everyone else gets the comfort of waking up to the smiling faces of loved ones or at least a friendly mad woman chasing you down the street knowing your name. kieran sleeps rough for weeks, lurking around the modern era shady belle because it's the only thing familiar but being chased off the gated property the second he's noticed.

when hosea and lenny happen across him by chance, he's more bruised and battered than his corpse was riding headless back into shady belle, and more terrified than he ever was being their prisoner in colter.

it is months before he can get in a car without looking like he's being held at gunpoint

but the first van der linde car accident, hmm: well obviously the gang pick up driving very differently.

hosea is the perpetual old man driving 10 under the speed limit when you're already running late to work. but bessie lets him drive the chevy on sundays and they just enjoy one another's quiet company on the open road.

lenny is the only one who can drive without bessie clutching the door. he is also the first to buy his own car and understands they serve the same purpose as a horse. even forms an emotional connection to his car, is slightly upset it doesn't love him back like maggie did.

they put off teaching sean to drive as long as possible and true to form he proves their greatest fears being a horrible driver - but the pizzeria never had to pay a late delivery fee again.

kieran sat behind in the wheel in an empty lot, let the car roll a hundred yards before pulling the handbrake and having a panic attack. never again. passenger princess/walks everywhere.

as much as he loves learning about the engineering of cars, arthur is not a natural driver. he insisted on learning to drive in a truck because people already looked at him and assumed he had a truck. as a result, no parking lot trolley return was safe. his truck is as dented as his spine is ruined.

so no one expected it to be lenny who was running late one night: or a phone call from an unknown number, saying there'd been an accident. not lenny's fault, of course. another driver, too drunk or too tired to realize the light was red and slammed straight into the driver side of his car.

most of the gang have been lucky enough to avoid a hospital, and as a result it's chaos. bessie is so distressed worrying about her son that she forgets she's the only one who knows what to do. hosea is panicky asking reception what happened, where's lenny, where's his boy. and sean is just. silent. nothing. no bouncing. no anxious fidgeting. he's silent, and still.

and lenny's asleep. general anasthetic or some sort of sedative, unnaturally still and more bandages than flesh. just a strange, bulky hospital bed and blue hospital blanket. tubes and a heart beat monitor that they naively thought only existed on tv.

hosea chases bessie, who has to remove herself because she doesn't want to be the only one in the room crying. it doesn't seem fair how upset she finds it when she has known lenny for so much shorter than the rest.

just sean. sitting with unnatural calmness in a plastic chair beside lenny in a hospital bed. afraid to hold his hand in case he hurts him. cracks a few jokes about being glad lenny has always only ever loved reading, because if he wanted to learn to play piano he'd be mortified by his broken, swollen fingers.

lenny doesn't laugh. the heart rate monitor stays at a constant, steady beep.

some old, painful memory digs its way to sean's consciousness. he can hear bessie sobbing in the hallway, hosea bracing her weight in an embrace like she'll collapse without him. sean instinctively opens the windows and moves his chair so as to not be in between lenny and the night air. his eyes bounce for a moment between the clock and the heart rate monitor. he offers him confession, like a good catholic boy, and when no answer comes, begins to sing old irish blessings only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

lenny is fine and makes a full recovery!! discharged days later, recognises he's lucky and it could have easily been so much worse. he's more annoyed about the hospital getting his family worked up for no reason. whatever drugs they gave him, it was the damn best sleep he ever had. he's more upset over the hospital bill than his car being wrecked, and wasting a joke about 'all the bleeding was internal, that's where blood is meant to be' on sean, who doesn't get it

recognises the tune next time sean is humming irish blessings to himself. doesn't know where.

[nowoyas]

koi no yokan 35: it could be us (nishinoya yuu/reader)

First - Prev - Next (coming 1/18!) - M.list 1-30 - M.list 30-60 - Ao3

A/N: I'm at back and body hurts does anyone want anything

Summary: Every stray cat belonging to the Nishinoyas makes its way home.

Warnings and tags: implied self harm

Word count: ~4800

7. Confront the problem directly

Something feels wrong about wearing Noya's clothes now. You weren't given much choice—the other option was to stay in your soaked uniform, dripping water on his floor, and ignore the fact that your shirt was white and Noya would be unable to stop staring at your chest the entire time.

Needless to say, you both need the ability to focus.

So, his shirt and a pair of his shorts it is. That, and a towel draped over your head, covering your still-wet hair.

"You know, Kaede probably wouldn't mind you borrowing the hair dryer," he says when he sees you. He's set up on the couch, tucked into the corner to wait for you. "I don't think she'd care at all."

"Normally, maybe, but, I mean…" You shift on your feet a little, eyes scanning the room. "Where're the babies?"

He nods to the kitchen. "Eating. Not sure how old the little one is, but I gave them both wet food to be safe."

You sigh. "Probably too young for adult kibble, at any rate. Young enough that I'm not sure he'd have made it through the rain without her."

"Or without you." He nods. Pats the couch beside him. He's got the first aid kit now, and you immediately understand what he's asking for. "Come on, sit. Let's take a look."

"It's fine," you protest weakly, hiding your arm behind your back. "It's just a scrape."

"Please, [name]-san."

The scrape in question happens to stretch the length of your forearm. You don't have a good excuse—a tree climbed, a branch not quite willing to hold your weight, just the wrong movement on the way down. You'd ignored it as long as you could, planning to clean it yourself once you returned Soba home, once you'd figured out what to do with the baby. You can handle a little scrape. It barely even bled.

But here's Noya, looking at you, pleading to let him take a look, and you find that you don't have the heart to fight him on this.

So you sit down. You hold out your arm. You let Noya take your hand and reach for the first aid kit. "How did this happen?" he murmurs.

He's so quiet. The wrong kind of quiet.

"They were on the back porch of this house for sale, a few streets over. The gate was stuck from my side, but there was a tree over the wall, so I just climbed it and figured I could get the gate open from inside."

"And…?"

He dabs at the scrape with disinfectant. You hiss, clenching a fist. "And I was right. I just sort of wasn't all that graceful on the dismount."

"You could've been seriously hurt."

"Why do you care? You're fine with danger and risk and all that when it comes to literally anyone else. Encourage it, even."

"I think you know why." He pauses, brushing a thumb over an older injury—one of the little cuts you've accrued over the week. "What happened here?"

There's nine of these little injuries—mostly small cuts, but there's a burn or two in the mix. Together, you'll admit that they look pretty bad.

"Accident." Your voice is quiet, and now you're not convinced, yourself.

They were, though. They were all accidents.

"You accidentally shredded your hands?"

"First cooking lesson: don't use a knife when you're distracted."

He gently turns your wrist, inspects the injuries. "That's a lot of distractions."

"I've had a lot on my mind."

Silence. Unbearable silence. He sets aside the first aid kit, grabs a blanket off the neighboring armchair. Slings it over your shoulders and bundles you up casually, like it's nothing, like there isn't a suffocating, tangible mistake floating in the space between you.

"I'm not with him to spite you, by the way!" you blurt when it becomes too much. "I didn't—none of this was to spite you. Or hurt you. Or test you, or—or anything like that. I want you to know that."

"So why are you?" He won't meet your eyes. He's focused on the first aid kit, on painstakingly organizing the small stack of hand wipes. He closes it with a snap.

You hesitate for too long. "I… I don't really know. He asked and I guess I was having one of the worst days and then, the next thing I knew, I was texting the girls and trying to figure out what the hell I'd done."

He stares at his lap now. You watch his fists clench, unclench, clench again. Slow and rhythmic, like deep breathing. "A bad day. Because of me?"

"A… a little because of you. I don't like fighting with you. I miss my best friend."

"Was something else going on?"

Your lower lip wobbles. He'd be hugging you right now. If things were different, he wouldn't even have hesitated to sweep you into his arms, to let you fall apart into him. You need that right now. You hate how much you need it, how much desperation wells up for his touch, his reassurance, any indication that he still likes you. You don't close the gap. Neither does he.

"Otoo-san wants to start dating again," you whisper. "I don't want to tell him not to. It's not fair to him. I don't want him to replace Okaa-san."

You pretend that the hurt is from thinking about your dad, about your mom. You pretend it has nothing to do with the fact that he didn't say I miss you too.

"Oh, [name]-san," he breathes in a hush. It's insane how good he is at showing sympathy without making your stomach churn. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," you reply instinctively. "I… I'm sorry. About… about Asuka-san."

"You could make it better. You could break up with him, right now. Hell, got his number? Give me your phone and I'll do it for you."

"That's…"

You could. It'd be easy. Things would be fixed, and—and you'd be Noya's. You'd be his to shatter, his to break. His to leave mourning when he inevitably—

"That's not really fair of you to ask me," you manage through your closing throat.

"Not fair—no, you know what's not fair? What's not fair is you just—spending months cuddling up to me and making me think I had a chance just to meet a guy and start dating him a week later when you don't even like him! That's what's not fair!"

His voice is raising. You pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders. "It wasn't—I told you it didn't—"

"If you seriously thought that was platonic, I don't know what to say to you, [name]-san. I really don't. Next you're gonna tell me that asking to hold me while I cried was just you being a good friend."

You can't breathe. You can't breathe.

"Like, yeah. I probably would've stayed to help you out no matter what. But I didn't let you sleep in my bed and in my clothes for a month because your head hurt. I did that because I like you, and I wanted to hold you, and I wanted to comfort you, and you seemed happy when I held you. Don't you get that? I like you."

Tears slip down your cheeks. "Y-you don't even—"

"If you try to tell me I don't even know you at this point, I'm gonna scream."

You don't finish that sentence.

"I know you, [name]-san. Sure, when we met, you were right to say that I didn't really know much about you. All I knew was that you were drop-dead gorgeous and that you looked kinda sad and lonely but that I could get you to laugh and it made me feel like I understood everything when you did. But—please look at me—that's not true now."

When you look up, he's leaned in close, close enough that you're looking directly into his eyes. You try to turn away, squeeze your eyes shut, but he brings a hand up to cup your jawline, tilts you until you know that, if you open your eyes, you'll be forced to see him. Forced to meet those eyes, sharp and intense and so terribly honest. Forced to admit that he's not lying to you.

"I know you," he repeats. "I know who you are. I know how you work. I know that you like to cook, but only when other people are going to eat it. I know that you don't think you're worth the effort of cooking for yourself. I know that you only make an effort for yourself if you think other people will say something about it if you don't. I know that you're always a little jealous of other girls having shit like lip gloss or those little phone charms, and that you're probably never gonna ask your dad for any of 'em 'cuz you feel bad, so you pretend not to give a shit instead. That you love your dad just as much as you hate him and you always feel like you're reacting to him the wrong way. That your mom liked citrus, so you're always leaving lemons and oranges for her.

"That you freeze up when other people touch you. That you relax when you realize it's me. That you act all cool and detached until you get sleepy, and then you get really cuddly and affectionate. You don't know what you want to do with your life, but you're really smart and really good at reading people. You'd make an amazing teacher or, like, a therapist or something. You think if you let your grades drop, something horrible's gonna happen to someone you care about. You like it when cats have socks and dogs have eyebrows. You're bisexual, but the fact that you liked men was a surprise. You've definitely already thought of the absolute worst joke name for the kitten you brought home with my cat, who you're going to tell me you rescued out of like, obligation or karma or some shit instead of just admitting that you were worried.

"You won't let anyone think you're kind. Almost everything you do is for everyone else. And you're scared, you're absolutely terrified of the fact that you could be happy with me, because you don't know how to accept that it might end someday and you can't trust me to stay. And that's how we got here. Isn't it?"

Where his hand sits, it catches every tear that slips down your cheek. They redirect along his palm, run down in a little rivulet until it reaches his wrist. If he shifted, just a little, if he let his pinkie drift down a centimeter or so, he could probably feel your pulse in your neck, your heart thrumming where it's leapt into your throat and made its new home.

"Please open your eyes."

You try to tell him you can't, that if you open your eyes right now, it'll all fall apart, somehow. When you open your mouth, the only thing that comes out is a whimper, high-pitched and awful.

He sighs. You feel his weight shift, feel his lips press softly against your forehead. Your whimper breaks into a sob.

"I know you," he repeats. He settles back down, rests his forehead against your own. "Don't try to tell me I don't know what I'm doing when I say I like you. Don't try to tell me I don't like you. I'm choosing you because I know you, and I'm going to keep choosing you because I know you. I'm looking at you doing this shit and running around with a guy who I know is gonna hurt you and I'm choosing you. That's what you want, isn't it? Someone who loves you anyway."

It's too much. He's too close. Too everything. You need to get away. Run. Transfer schools and never see him again.

You can't move. Can't run. Can barely speak when you try, awful hiccups interrupting you. "He can't—he can't hurt me the way that—that you can. It won't stick, he won't—I-I can't—I—"

The only noise between you for a moment is your sobs—you try your best to hold them back, but it just makes them louder, pitching wildly like you're a child. You struggle to breathe between them, gasp for air.

I'm scared, you want to tell him. You like me so much it scares me. I don't understand you. I don't understand why you're choosing me. I don't understand why you would ever like me. I don't understand why you're still here. I don't understand why you won't leave.

"Fine," he says. "C'mere."

You manage to peek, manage to glimpse him through your tears. He's sitting back, arms open. Without question, you launch yourself at him, straddle his lap so you can comfortably bury your face in his neck as you cry. He accepts it, accepts you, without complaint, wraps you up in his arms, lets your body meld into his.

"I cheated a little," he admits, murmured into your hair. "Kiyoko-san and Yachi-san talked to me after you left earlier. I know how scared you are. I know you told them you couldn't take it if you lost me."

Later, you'll momentarily think of them as traitors, have a passing surge of irritation that slips away just as fast. Consider confronting them for meddling. Privately, you might be grateful. Right now, though, you sigh into his hold, let him shuffle you around so he can get his arms underneath your blanket. Let his scent and his presence surround you.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm pissed at you for this. All of it. I'm trying to understand that you're scared, but it hurts. But… I'm gonna hold you to your word, okay? If you need time to accept how I feel, and accept that this is worth the ending, and accept that you deserve to be happy now… I can wait. I could probably stand to be a little more patient, anyway."

"Not—not ready," you choke out. "Not yet."

"That's okay." You swear his lips brush the side of your head again. "But I'm not giving up on you or on our bet, and as long as you're with him, I'm gonna make that shitty boyfriend of yours fucking hate me."

You're not sure if the noise that leaves you is a sob or a laugh.

"Can you just promise me something?"

You nod. Anything. You'll promise him anything.

"Just stay where I can love you, alright? I'll handle the rest."

You nearly break all over again—he just had to say love—but manage a nod, a whispered promise.

(This is probably cheating.)

(You can't bring yourself to care.)

You aren't sure how long the two of you sit that way. At some point, your knees ache too much to stay tangled up exactly the same way, so you take a moment to shift, to wrap your legs around his waist and take some of the pressure off. At some point, Soba carries a complaining kitten into the room, drops him right on top of your thigh. He learns quickly that you're both a source of warmth, and ends up wedging his way into the space where your stomach presses against Noya's. Soba leaps up onto the back of the couch, right where you can shift one hand to pet her idly.

"I can't keep the baby," you mumble, when the tears have subsided enough to let you speak. "Otoo-san's been making an effort, but I can't trust him to keep a litter box clean or feed the baby properly whenever I'm away for club stuff. It'd be stupid of me to get attached, so—"

"So what name did your beautiful brain come up with?"

A wet laugh escapes you. "Tsuyu. Like—like Mentsuyu. And because it's raining so hard."

He laughs fondly. "It's September, though."⁵⁰

"I guess it is." You pause. "Please don't ever stop talking to me like that again."

"Sorry. It wasn't about you."

"What was it about, then?"

"Your new boyfriend's an asshole, and it pissed me off too much to apologize for trying to protect you, but you deserved—deserve an apology."

"So you did know you were in the wrong."

"Yeah. Just too mad to do anything about it. Couldn't stop thinking about Sato."

"It's okay. I should have told Asuka-san to fuck off when he interrupted. Like I didn't know you were going through hell."

"You could still—" He cuts himself off. "Sorry."

"I'm not ready," you repeat. "But if there's something I can do for you, without that…"

"I'll think of something. Maybe you could teach me to cook."

You snort, about to come up with a retort when a thought occurs to you. "Did you tell your sisters Soba's home? Last I heard, they were out looking for her."

He swears. "Can you get my phone out of my pocket? I'll call them."

It takes some effort, but you manage to wriggle Noya's phone out of his pocket where it's been pressed between you. He thanks you, dials one of their numbers. Puts it on speaker.

"Yuu, are you out looking for—" Mei's voice starts.

"Soba's home," he interrupts. "Sorry, I should have called earlier—[name]-san found her and brought her back."

"Are you kidding? We've been running around in the rain for—" Oh, good. Satsuki and Mei are together.

"Satsuki," Mei interrupts. "What's important is that she's home. Is she okay?"

"Yeah. She was a little hungry and got a little rained on, but they've been fed and dried off."

"They?"

"Oh, yeah. Soba was—[name]-san, you said she wouldn't let go of the baby, right?"

You nod. Mumble a little. "When I tried to take Soba without the kitten, she tried to scratch me and yelled a bunch. I had to take 'em both."

"So Soba adopted a kitten."

"How long ago was this? Have you been letting us die in the rain this whole time?"

"Sorry. We, uh, we needed to talk, and I got distracted and forgot to call."

"Unbelievable!" Satsuki's voice gets farther away. "At least tell me she's breaking up with the little baseball cuck now that you've talked."

"I can only hope," he says. You feel him looking at you and press your face into him further.

"Important—what's the kitten look like?" Mei asks.

You feel Noya shift. You're vaguely aware he's taking a picture of the kitten, who's insistently purring into your side. After a moment, he speaks. "Sent a picture."

Silence. "Is that [name]-chan on your lap with the kitten?"

"Emotional conversation."

"Don't imagine she's willing to cook for us again."

You shake your head. "No energy left."

"I dunno if you heard that, but she's exhausted."

"How about you go get takeout for everyone to make up for the fact that you just let us keep looking for a cat who is safe at home without telling anyone?"

"I will if you both tell me what you want and think of arguments to convince Okaa-san to keep the kitten. [name]-san, you're staying for dinner, right?"

Like he's giving you a choice. A wordless nod is your answer, a fond little huff.

"[name]-san's staying. I'll recruit her into helping me carry it."

You listen to them talk for a while—Mei and Satsuki settle on Yoshinoya, you rattle off the menu for them mindlessly. Keep track of orders while Noya calls Kaede and Rina and Jii-chan, the latter of whom is apparently out on a date. It's good news down the board until you have to actually go pick up food, which means untangling from Noya. That, and being seen in his oversized t-shirt and the shorts you've borrowed.

"Lemme at least borrow a jacket," you grumble as you finally, finally untangle from him. "I still feel all cold and my hair's still damp. I probably look like hell."

"You're beautiful," he replies automatically. At your unimpressed look, he adds: "but you'd be prettier in one of my hoodies. C'mon, let's find you something and then go get food."

So you borrow a hoodie. You walk with him, not even needing to think about the route. You huddle under one umbrella and pretend there's no connotations there. You let the Nishinoya family feed you dinner once again.

"You should stay tonight," Noya says while you wait for food, his hands in his pockets. "You're tired, and I missed you."

"Senpai, you know I can't."

"I don't think I do know that." He tilts his head. "Because of Asuka?"

You don't need to answer that one.

"Yachi-san and Kiyoko-san said that you don't even like him."

"I don't, but… I mean, I feel like I should try to. He was sorta a friend, you know? At the very least, I should break up with him in person, so… not tonight. I'm sorry."

He sighs. Stares at you a moment, obviously ready to say something. He doesn't need to—you already know what's coming.

"I'll give him one shot. Just to be fair," you promise. "And in the meantime, I'm not gonna talk to you about him unless you actually want me to. Is that… I mean, is that okay?"

He doesn't look very okay with it, but he also doesn't protest. "If you make it up to me."

"How?"

Your name's called—the cook, who's worked here longer than you remember, recognizes you by now, assumed the order was yours instead of Noya's. Passes over the bags with a familiar smile. "Lots of food for you today, [name]-chan. Feeding some friends?"

You bring out your best people-pleasing laugh. "Yeah, I'm just helping carry. I didn't even have to convince anyone."

"You haven't been around much recently. You gotta come back! I remember when you were a kid, swear we saw you in here every week with your parents."

Your smile tightens. "Yeah, it got a little rough for a while. I'll try to come in more, okay?"

You bid him farewell, split the bags with Noya on your way out.

"I didn't know you were a regular here," he says, tilting the umbrella your way.

Another laugh, more nervous than the one you'd given the cook. "Kinda. I haven't been coming as much since Okaa-san, but I guess they still remember me."

"I swear he saw you and started making your order immediately." He glances at the receipt. "I think we got a discount, too."

"Regular privileges."

He hums. "I'm starting to notice a pattern here. Karaage today, and I'm pretty sure you requested it back when you got the concussion. Is that one of your favorites?"

You shrug. "It's a comfort food, I guess. In case you somehow haven't figured it out, I've always been a little gloomy. A lot of the times when Otoo-san or Okaa-san took me out, it was because I was upset over something or another, so I guess karaage just became the food that makes me feel better. Like… like I'm loved, I guess? No, that sounds stupid—"

"Teach me to make it."

You blink slowly. "Huh?"

"You were gonna teach me to cook, right? And you wanted me to come up with something I wanted to learn to make to start with, something about interest. I wanna learn to make karaage. You can do that to make up for giving Baseball Jackass a shot."

"I mean—sure, but—" How to put this? "I… I've never made karaage."

"Never?" He looks aghast.

"I can buy it a fifteen minute walk from my house! They know me!"

"Okay, now we have to learn to make it together. I'm gonna learn to make your sad-day food, and you're gonna also learn how to make your sad-day food."

A sigh. "Your mom did slip me extra chicken I wasn't gonna spring for. We can use that."

"That's a yes?"

"Yes," you reply with a roll of your eyes. "We'll start with karaage and then move on from there."

Over dinner with the family, the debate over the cat—and cat names—begins. You politely and silently bow out—you have no right to name the new kitten or demand that Rina agree to keep it. Besides, most of their focus tonight is on convincing Rina to keep him at all.

No one's outright rude to you, but you catch a little side-eye from Satsuki once or twice. It dissipates over the course of the night—either she loses her interest or decides you're fine, one of the two. Somehow, you think she's just distracted. At the end of the night, you walk home in Noya's clothes, yours still damp and thrown into a random plastic bag for transport.

(That night, in your absence, Noya turns to the next page in the journal and titles it, times I held back. He fills it quickly with the events of the past week or two—every time you showed up to practice and he would've normally greeted you with a proposal, every time he thought you seemed upset and didn't send a Soba to boost your mood. Staring at you standing in the genkan and coaxing Soba and someone else out of the bag in a gentle voice, unaware, it seemed, of the fact that your shirt had soaked through, that your bra was fully visible from the rain. You climbing into his lap, snuggling into him as you cried. Saying you missed him, like he was supposed to not say "marry me, then" in reply. He leaves space at the bottom—he suspects he'll hold back a little bit more, until you've left the jackass, until you're free again.)

That night, when you get out of the shower, you check your phone and find a text. Who else would it be from, if not Noya?

Noya to [name] at 20:48

Noya: [Two images attached. The first is of the kitten, curled up on top of a half-clothed thigh. In the background, it appears that two bodies are pressed to one another in something like a hug. The second image appears to be a zoomed-out version of the first photo, showing you wrapped up in Noya's lap, his shorts riding up your thigh where the kitten is perched. Your face isn't visible, but one of your hands is outstretched to pet Soba, who loafs on the back of the couch behind Noya. Noya steadies you with the arm not holding the camera, and his expression is gentle, soft. The kind he doesn't show around anyone else you know of.]

Noya: this could be us but my favorite cat wouldn't stay the night

Noya: the kitten's going to the vet tomorrow btw. I think we sold okaa-san on him

You roll your eyes, do your best to ignore the comment calling you a cat, as though you're anything like a cat. You might've texted back, but you need to breathe, to process, to think through everything that happened today. Later, addled by lack of sleep and somehow too wired to try to rectify it, you find yourself staring at the second picture.

It could be us.

You get halfway to setting the picture as your homescreen before you consider the consequences if literally anyone else saw that picture. You settle, instead, for a picture you took of Soba and Tsuyu earlier, curled up on the porch where you'd found them, and find yourself navigating back to the picture from before, staring at it in the darkness of your bedroom.

Deep between the day's exhaustion, the wrung-out way you feel thinking about Noya's speech, the panic seeding itself at the thought of dealing with Asuka, the overwhelm at wondering how to fix things with everyone who probably now hates you from this whole episode, there's a warmth budding. Horrifically, you realize that you feel the way Noya looks in that picture.

Like you're in love.

~

[name] to Fukurodani Group Managers!!! at 1:23

[name]: I'm gonna marry him.

~

(Times he's held back: 14)

50. Mentsuyu (麵つゆ), or just tsuyu (つゆ), is the soup base used in soba dishes. "Tsuyu" (梅雨) is one of many words for rain. As I understand it, 梅雨 specifically refers to the rain that falls during the rainy season in early summer. No relation to the BNHA character of the same name.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

[empirearchives]

Napoleon and Sewers and Sanitation

Excerpt from the book Aaron Burr in Exile: A Pariah in Paris, 1810-1811, by Jane Merrill and John Endicott

Napoleon began in 1805 to build a modern vaulted underground sewer system in Paris, following the topography of the streets. Practical changes for the better were already in place when Burr was in Paris. Sewer floors were lowered and new lines were created everywhere between 1805 and 1812, while at the same time the existing sewers were disinfected and the flow of water purified.

During the Enlightenment there was a movement for improved hygiene in France, and investigations of public health. Napoleon was a forerunner of hygiene for his armies and for Paris. In the first place he paved streets and did away with the flowing gutters in the middle of the road. Second, he wanted to give Parisians clean water. In 1802, he commissioned Pierre-Emmanuel Bruneseau as his inspector of works for the City of Paris to chart the sewer system and also keep them clean. Under Napoleon, the existing network was extended, 19 new miles of sewers were added. By 1812, vast improvements had been made.

Bruneseau died in 1819, but Baron Haussmann studied Bruneseau’s maps in the mid-century, rebuilding, constructing new gas-lit and vented sewers. The sanitation models of Paris were adopted by other cities in France and around the world.

A survey of 50 kilometers took seven years. It was dangerous as well as putrid work. While Bruneseau was hailed as an intrepid adventurer, he had difficulty all along with hiring assistants to keep up with him. Victor Hugo was Bruneseau’s friend and hailed him as an adventurer. The engineer inspired Hugo to write the portion of Les Misérables in which Jean Valjean carries Marius, wounded at the Barricades in 1832, through the sewers to safety. Hugo called the sewers “the conscience of the city” and created a whole metaphor around the sewer system: “A sewer is a cynic. It tells everything.” It wouldn’t have been possible for Jean Valjean to make his way carrying Marius through the sewers before the curage methods introduced by Bruneseau. The rushing water when gates are opened to clean the sewers with great hydraulic force, as well as the manholes and dripping pipes, are well described in the novel.

[Bold italics for quotations by me]

[ems-roleplay-blog]

This whole thing was fucked. Totally and entirely fucked. Maybe he shouldn’t have had the expectation that they would all come out alive, but he had thought that that was the bare minimum here. As the minutes passed on, though, it was looking like that had been to much to hope. Unscathed? Not a snowball’s chance in hell that was going to happen. But he had at least thought they’d all be like… alive.

Eddie was starting to get closer and closer to the whole “not being alive” part, and that was starting to freak him the hell out. Everyone had been yelling at each other as they lugged Eddie to the gate and then all the way into the boathouse, and here they were. A bunch of teenagers trying to figure out how to use first aid from health class to keep their friend from dying. “Come on, man, stay with us.” They’d ripped off the sleeve of someone’s jacket, Steve really couldn’t remember who, and he was using it to press on what seemed like the worst of the bleeding.

“How do we disinfect it? We should probably do that, right? Do we sew it up? Does anyone have like… I don’t fucking know, a needle and thread? Maybe there’s on in here somewhere. Maybe there’s like… uh… a first aid kit! In the boat?” He was frantic. They were all frantic. This was stressful as hell.

@hawkinshellraiser

[fastcardotmp3]

truman show esque "trapped in a reality you think is The reality when it is, in fact, just an experiment in which you are the subject" situation except when Steve gets dragged through the gate at Lover's Lake, when the rest of them follow him into the Upside Down, it's like the place has been adapting since the last time any of their people were here.

The Upside Down made itself into a mirror of Hawkins for a boy who it wanted to keep, but it didn't do so great the first time around. Vines and thick air and cold, it may have memorized the map of the place it was emulating, but it never quite got the details right.

The thing is, it's had time to learn. It was in Will's head, for fuck's sake, took over the bodies of countless Hawkins residents during the Starcourt fiasco of '85, so by the time Spring Break of '86 rolls around, the Upside Down knows.

It's a living thing and it knows better how to be a mirror, how to maybe better keep that boy here next time it gets ahold of him. Only before Will Byers has the chance to stumble his way back through one of the gates being created just for him, just for him and his sister, there are four others who are maybe a good trial run.

It's confusing for them, on the other side of being dragged to the bottom of a lake. It's confusing because it actually looks like Hawkins, smells like it, the water is the same in the lake and the mud feels the same on the shore.

It's less like being dragged to the bottom at all, actually, because the water makes them weightless, makes the transition disorienting rather than a clear crossing between worlds, so when they resurface and it looks the same it's. It's not the Upside Down the way Steve saw it in the tunnels, it's not the Upside Down the way Will or Joyce or Hopper or El described it.

Maybe there are hints and clues out and about-- unnatural chill for the season and tree roots that kick up out of the earth a bit more frequently, a haze to both nighttime and daylight that makes it feel gray and-- artificial almost? But none of that is enough to combat the sense of disorientation, the knowledge in their heads of what the UD actually looks like, and there's this fog in their heads...

There's this fog...

Their people aren't on the shore waiting for them under that starless night sky, but that's actually-- were there people waiting here for them at all?

It was just the four of them, right? It was just--

There are people here, when they decide to, um, "how did you hurt yourself, Steve? We need to-- shit, that needs to be disinfected, like, yesterday."

Robin's worried about rabies but Steve reminds her, "that's an animals thing, I just, like, fell on, uh-- those rocks at the lake? When we were swimming?"

It's too hard to question why they all went swimming in their clothes when it's this cold and dark. The fog is-- it's thick but also untraceable, it's like trying to make a logical decision in the middle of the most absurd of dreams.

It's like darkness encroaching in on your vision when you're involuntarily losing consciousness...

There are people here, when they decide to go find a first aid kit at Nancy's place because it's closest. There are a handful of cars driving around town, Mrs. Brady putting out her trash down the street when they sneak past.

Mrs. Brady, she was-- she is-- she-- but last summer during the-- the issue with-- there was a whole thing and she di--

Nancy's parents are out.

Steve's bites scrapes are oozing and painful and Nancy slaps at Eddie's hand when he tries to snoop at her diary.

The sun rises. The sun only just set. There are people here but they're-- were there people waiting for them on the shore?

There was something, some reason, why they were at the lake and that's important. That has to be important, somewhere beyond the fog.

When they fall asleep in the light of a too-quick morning, like the sun turned on rather than rose, it's not weird that there's no one else in the Wheeler house.

"Stop looking at me, I can feel you," Robin mutters as she dozes off to sleep on the bed beside Nancy, the boys on a spare mattress on the floor.

Everyone else is already asleep.