#enjoy this delirious-induced writing

[reiding-writing]

i LOVE your angsts

you can write something about the reader and spencer being apart after a conflict, being childish and sarcastic towards each other afterwards, and then, one of the cases ends in an explosion and, or, fire in which one of the two is trapped and alone, and the other takes risks to save him

who knows, maybe one of the two in the hospital is still delirious and asking to marry the other? anyway, you choose

basically two idiots in love and proud who can't bear the thought of losing each other

thanks 🥺🫶🏻

commitment [ s.r ]

You love Spencer Reid more than anything in the world, but committing to someone for life was not something to be considered lightly. A life or death situation might speed up the decision process a little.

spencer reid x gn!reader || angst || 4.0k ll masterlist!!

WARNINGS: commitment issues, fire, major character injury, miscommunication, happy ending

a/n: happy 29th of february? is that something to be celebrated? anyway, kinda took this one on a rollercoaster ride, enjoy :)

Spencer Reid wanted a family.

He wanted to get married, have 2.5 kids and live in a house with two cars and a white picket fence.

But he didn’t just want that with anybody, he wanted that with you.

You weren’t sure.

You loved Spencer with your whole heart, you really did, but after your parents’ failed marriage and your negative experiences with romantic relationships in the past, the fact that you’d even been in a committed relationship with Spencer for the last four years was an achievement in itself.

You’d talked about it a few times, but you’d always come to opposite decisions. Spencer wanted to settle down with you, and you were afraid to do so.

Your most recent conversation on the subject ended less as a conversation and more as an argument.

“So you don’t really love me then?” You could see the betrayal in his eyes at you again shutting down the idea, his tone carrying more upsetness than accusation.

“No Spencer of course I love you what are you talking about?” You can feel yourself nearing tears at his question. He was quite literally the person you loved most in the world, and to have him shut down your feelings because you didn’t see eye to eye with him broke your heart.

You spent the next few days staying with Garcia.

You tried to not let your disagreement with Spencer influence your work, but the fact that you wouldn’t so much as spare a glance at each other during office hours tipped off the rest of the team about your situation immediately.

“So,” Morgan leaned his hip against the counter of the kitchenette as you fixed yourself a cup of coffee, neglecting Spencer’s mug on the shelf instead of making both cups at once like you’d usually do.

“So?” You raise an eyebrow at his incomplete sentence.

“What’s going on between you and pretty boy?”

You sigh before he even finishes the question. “It’s nothing for you to worry about,”

“Your lover’s quarrel is ruining the vibes, it is most definitely something for me to worry about,” You roll your eyes at his response. Trust Morgan to find the most unserious way to express his concern for the two of you.

Logically you knew it was because he wanted to tread lightly, but that didn’t make it any less eye-roll inducing.

“So,” He leans forwards a little. “What’s going on? Did you disagree on whether Star Trek or Star Wars was better or something?”

You give him a deadpan stare and he immediately surrenders, raising up his hands as he concedes.

“What else do you have to argue about? You guys are like the most boring couple I know,” Morgan shrugs nonchalantly, and you halt the stirring of your teaspoon in your drink.

Boring? You weren’t boring. Were you? Did Spencer think you were boring? Did he think your relationship was boring? Maybe he only wanted to tie the knot in the hope that it would ‘reignite the spark’ or whatever people said.

“Hey.” Morgan snapped his fingers in front of your face, effectively pulling you out of your internal spiral.

“Hm?”

“I asked if it was serious, Garcia told me you’ve been staying with her the last few days,”

Curse Garcia and Morgan’s no filter relationship.

“Everything’s fine, we both just need time to cool off,”

“You’re sure?”

You have to consciously suppress a sigh at his continued questioning. Morgan was great, but god did he push.

“Yes Morgan, everything’s fine,” You spoke with enough conviction that you managed to convince him of your truth, although whether you believed it yourself was another question.

“Good, because if you two ever broke up I’m pretty sure the whole team would fall apart,” His tone tells you his joking, as does his expression as he leaves you to your coffee, but your brain isn’t as kind as to just let the comment fly over your head, and you’re sent into another spiral as you make your way back over to your desk.

Do the whole team really think of your relationship with Spencer as a vital part of its inner workings? What if it really didn’t work out? What would happen then?

Would the whole team fall into chaos?

You didn’t want to break off your relationship with Spencer. But what if it did happen?

Your thoughts leak into your body language, your shoulders tense as you sit down and your eyes not quite focused on the papers on your desk.

It didn’t help that Spencer sat directly opposite you either. It was like the world was trying to rub your conflict in your face every time you saw his hair in your peripheral vision.

You could feel his eyes boring into the top of your head, but you knew he wouldn’t say anything. It was one of the faults in his character, and yours you suppose, because even if he did ask you what was wrong you’d probably blow him off anyway.

The tension between the two of you was enough for Emily and Morgan to share a glance across the bullpen to each other, although they didn’t have enough time to corner you into asking what was actually going on as Hotch called the team into the conference room.

The silent feud between the two of you continued into the meeting, sitting on opposite ends of the table like you were two negative magnets being forced away from each other by an insurmountable pressure.

It was a little silly you think, to be so removed from each other after a single argument, but when Spencer put his foot down about something, he held his ground under any circumstance.

And so the two of you were destined to lie in a stalemate, sat seething in silent frustration with each other until one of you eventually caved under the pressure.

It wasn’t going to happen.

It was another fault of the two of you. You were both too damn stubborn for your own good, and it was beginning to affect your ability to work together.

You were supposed to be two sides of the same coin. Two gears intertwined and seamlessly rolling off of each other in perfect unison. Instead, you couldn’t even decide on the importance of a half-burned diary found at the scene of the last scene you’d arrived at, the fourth building set ablaze in Fallon in the last five days.

“This guy is clearly dealing with marital struggles, that could be our trigger,”

Of course he had marital struggles, because you couldn’t escape your own issues even when you were two-thousand miles across the country.

“We don’t even know if that diary belongs to our unsub,” You sigh exasperatedly as you slump back in your chair.

“It was a grocery store. Who brings a diary to a grocery store unless it’s something extremely important to them? It has to belong to our unsub.”

“Spencer-”

“You know that I’m more likely to be right about this,”

You can’t help but scoff at his statement, discarding your coffee mug on the round table and causing small brown droplets to coat the surface of the wood from the force. “You’re really pulling the intelligence card? Seriously?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Spencer shrugs his shoulders with a furrowed expression. “My intelligence is what got me here and it’s telling me that this diary belongs to our unsub,”

“And my experience is telling me that you’re fixating on this goddamn diary instead of looking for things that could be actually useful to finding this guy because you want to feel sorry for yourself by living through his struggles.” You gesture exasperatedly to the book in his hands, becoming increasingly frustrated with Spencer’s attitude towards you.

He might be smart, but you had almost half a decade on him in terms of experience. He had zero right to speak to you like that mid-feud or not.

“You’re angry at me, I get it. Don’t let it cloud your judgement.” You push yourself up from the table with a scowl, leaving your chair pushed out as you exit the station with the door slamming shut behind you.

“You’re sure this is the right place?” Morgan furrows his eyebrows as you approach the house, clearly run-down and looking as though no-one had lived in it in several years.

“I’m sure,” Spencer gave a determined nod as he un-holstered his gun, following the team into the house to sweep it for the suspect.

Despite your argument about the importance of the diary, Spencer had continues to fixate on it completely, leading to a partial name that Garcia had managed to identify and ultimately the house you were now running into.

You feel under-appreciated sometimes. Hotch always ended up going with Spencer’s choices, experience didn’t matter. It was like he had a tattoo across his forehead that read ‘I’m always right’ and everyone else took it as law.

But you’re not going to disobey direct orders, even if you did want to throw all of Spencer’s favourite books into a filled bathtub and watch him mourn over the ruined pages.

“Clear!”

You sweep the house room by room, you, Hotch, and Emily in charge of the ground floor whilst Morgan and Spencer went upstairs.

It was a complete ghost house. There was no electricity, no running water, smashed windows and moulded wallpaper, the furniture looked decades old and above all it just smelled horrific, a mix of leaking waste pipes and faulty gas lines. Were you seriously supposed to believe someone was living here?

“All clear up here,” Morgan emerged at the top of the stairwell with a shrug. “We got nothing,”

“Of course we don’t,” You mutter the words to yourself with a roll of your eyes, silently confirming your own victory at the obvious lack of human presence in the house Spencer was so sure belonged to the unsub.

“Alright, regroup outside,” Hotch called up to the two, gaining a nod from Morgan as he went to retrieve Spencer and bring him down as you exited the building.

“Nothing?” JJ tilted her head slightly as the three of you emerged, met with Emily shaking her head with a slightly awkward expression as she met your gaze.

“Nope, gross, but nothing,”

“Gross is right, it smelled like shit in there-” You clear your throat into your elbow like you’d managed to infest your lungs from the smell.

“Where’s Spence and Morgan?” You shrug your shoulders at JJ’s question heading back to the SUV to grab a bottle of water.

“Knowing Reid he’ll be over-analysing something,” Emily chuckles slightly, patting JJ on the shoulder as she follows you past her. “Morgan’ll get bored soon enough,”

“Are we going or what?” You call out from where you’re leaning against the car, water bottle being waved around in your hand as you gesture your impatience.

“Morgan and Reid are-” Emily stops as she spots Morgan walking out of the front door. “—Reid is still inside,”

“Of course he is,” You grumble to yourself with a roll of your eyes.

“He’s refusing to leave until he’s found something,” Morgan shrugs as he reaches Hotch’s side. “He’s adamant that there’s something to be found in there,”

“God seriously?” You groan out your words as you rejoin the group. “It’s an abandoned shit hole, there’s nothing to be found—”

A loud crash from the house interrupts your complaint.

Loud crashes are never good.

Neither is the bright orange flicker of light you can see through the front door. Definitely not when you’re working an arson case and Spencer Reid is still inside the house.

It’s like all the hours of you pondering how best to make Spencer suffer for his actions completely disappear as soon as the flames are in sight.

You couldn’t be angry at Spencer if he was dead.

The way the wooden beams of the door frame collapsed under the heat really cemented that thought in your mind.

“Spencer—”

Your attempt at running inside is promptly stopped by an outstretched arm that collides against your waist, winding you slightly and causing your expression to turn from fear to anger at the person who’d interrupted your attempt to vacate Spencer from the building.

“What are you doing?!” You push Morgan’s arm away from you harshly as you attempt to bypass him, but you don’t even get two steps forward before his arm is again blocking you from running into the burning building. “Get off me!”

“You can’t just run into a fire-” You continue to struggle against Morgan’s grip as he pleads his case to you, causing his voice to strain from the exertion of trying to keep you in one place.

“Morgan if you don’t let me go right now I swear to god-” Morgan withstands your threats with his strength, and you’re becoming increasingly resentful at just how much effort he’d gone through to stay physically fit.

“The fire department are on their way-” JJ’s voice is soaked in concern as she speaks, both hands clenched tightly around her phone as she stares into the open door of the house and the yellow-orange light that is quickly enveloping anything visible inside it. “They’re four minutes out,”

“Four minutes isn’t fast enough-”

“Hey-” Morgan continues to struggle against your writhing, planting both of his hands firmly against your shoulders and shaking them slightly in attempt to get your attention. “He’s going to be fine.” The uncertainty in his gaze tells you the opposite.

By the time you hear the sirens of fire engines rounding the street-corner, you don’t have the mental energy to feel relieved. All you can do is stare into the raging inferno that encapsulates the entire ground floor of the house and pray desperately that it didn’t manage to climb up the stairs. You know you’re being too optimistic.

You barely compute the obvious when a stretcher is prepared in front of the entrance, only coming to when you hear a worried gasp emanate from Emily at your side as Spencer is laid down on it after being recovered from the house’s master bedroom, very clearly unconscious and less clearly still breathing.

“Breathing is shallow, pulse is weak, we need to get him on oxygen,” The EMTs converse between themselves as they rush the stretcher into the fire ambulance, leaving you and your team to stand idly on the sidelines as both the fire and Spencer are taken care of by the firefighters on the scene.

You pace the waiting room on your heels, the sharp contact of your feet on the marbled floor leaving small shock waves to shoot up your legs as you walk. You couldn’t just sit down, you weren’t going to relax in a chair whilst the love of your life was possibly dying of asphyxiation. You were worried, terrified, and you had to release that nervous energy somehow.

If Spencer was here right now you’re sure he’d reprimand you for your nervous habit, rattling on about how heel-striking is dangerous for the health of your legs as it compresses your entire weight into a single point that can have bad impacts on your bones. Thinking about it just makes you feel worse, making you pace more and ultimately creating a self-fulfilling cycle where the more you thought about what he’d say the worse your actions would get.

At least you were actually in the hospital waiting and not back in the station waiting for a call. God knows you’d be more of a burden to the rest of the team than a help right now.

“Visitors for… Spencer Reid?” The nurse checks the clipboard in her hands as she speaks, and the second you hear the first syllable of his name you’re diverting your pacing to walk straight up to the nurse’s side.

“He’s awake but dreary, and he’s refusing any medication to help with the pain in his esophagus,” The nurse explains his conditions to you as she leads you down the hallway, shrugging her shoulders slightly at the mention of his refusal of pain medication.

“He can’t take narcotics, do you have any substitutes? NSAIDs?”

The nurse nods slightly at your explanation, checking her clipboard once more as she stops you at a wooden door. “I’ll have a look and see what I can find,”

“Thank you,” You give her a small nod and a smile as she leaves you at the door, suddenly even more nervous than you were in the waiting room. Not only was Spencer now in recovery for smoke inhalation and minor burns, the last ‘conversation’ the two of you had was an argument. A stupid, petty argument because you were both stubborn assholes who couldn’t agree to disagree on anything.

What if he didn’t want to see you? You were probably the last person he wanted at his bedside right now after everything that’d happened. Maybe you shouldn’t go in and see him.

Your hand is already opening the door. Okay, well, too late to second guess things now.

“Hey Spencer…” Your voice is barely a whisper as you enter the room, door shutting seamlessly behind you as you walk towards his hospital bed, fingers ringing together as a work around to release all of the nervous tension in your body without bursting into tears. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I ate a campfire-”

His words are enough to break the small tension between you, and you laugh softly in a mix of relief and worry. At least he was alright enough to be able to speak properly. The burn on his arm looked pretty bad though.

“You look like you ate a campfire,” You approach his hospital bed slowly, taking a seat on the plastic chair at his side and gazing over him with an entirely pitiful look in your eyes.

“I’m okay…” It was like he could read your mind, then again your sure that most people would be able to see how distraught you were right now, but Spencer was always the first to notice, and he languishly reached his hand out to rest against your knee.

You started crying the minute his fingers made contact with your slacks.

“I’m so sorry-” It felt a little silly to be crying in front of someone who’d just been trapped in a burning building and was probably experiencing an insane amount of pain from the lack of medication, but emotions don’t always follow logical boundaries. “I’ve been so- horrible to you and you didn’t deserve it at all-”

You’re sure you look like an absolute mess by now, tears staining your cheeks from your crying, a blotchy complexion from your stress, wrinkled clothes and ruined hair from constantly messing with them to try and find a release for all of your anxiety, but the way Spencer looks at you would have you assuming you’d stepped right off a runway.

“You don’t have anything to apologise for,”

“But-”

“Nothing.” Spencer shakes his head to the best of his ability as he shuts down your rebuttal, and he shifts his hand upwards to lie over your two hands clasped in your lap. “I shouldn’t have tried to pressure you into something that you’re not ready for, that was my fault, and for that I’m the one who needs to be saying sorry,”

“No I get it-”

“I made you uncomfortable and upset and that was never my intention,” Spencer continues to cut off your attempts to speak, something he’d usually rather die than do to you - or anyone for that matter - but deemed a necessity to stop you from lumping all of the blame on yourself when you had done nothing more than establish a boundary. A boundary that Spencer didn’t respect.

“I love you, and I want to spend every waking hour I have in your presence, I want to sleep with you in my arms and wake with you by my side. I want to experience every up and down with you and keep you safe and loved at every instance,” Spencer gives your hand a small squeeze as he looks at you, your reflection in his eyes one of pure beauty and perfection. “I didn’t do that for you in our last disagreement, and I can only hope that you’ll forgive me and allow me to make up for that moving forward,”

Spencer’s fingers ghost over the back of your hand, pressing small circles into the dips between your fingers and gently massaging your skin. “I want to do nothing more than love you, and a piece of paper and a pair of rings won’t change that either way.”

You swear that you melt with every word that leaves the boy’s mouth, and if he wasn’t currently hospital bound you’d smother his face in kisses until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

In respect for his condition you turn you affections to his hand instead, holding it up to your face and pressing deft kisses against the curve of each of his knuckles, silent tears still sliding down your cheeks. Tears of a different trajectory this time, filled no longer with guilt and frustration and instead replaced with the realisation of just how much you mean to Spencer Reid.

“I love you so much,” Your lips brush the back of his hand as you speak, his fingers dampening with the lingering moisture of your tears as you hold his hand like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the earth. “So much.”

The smile that breaks out on Spencer’s face could cure any ailment in your mind within seconds. “I love you too,”

[arjwrites]

— Heuheueheuehueeheu OK! Good to know that bc i love angst and """"dark themes""""!! And well, now I have two request ideas with Winchester!reader ☝️ I was thinking that just asking for Castiel might end up tiring for you so ONE (1) of them do not include him (this one)

Could you write a Sam&Dean x Older sister Winchester!reader angst where the reader (16) has just returned rlly injured from a hunt with her father to the point where she almost died and John is angry because she is weak while Sam(10) and Dean (14) try to help her???? She's like “I'm fine” while she's fckin bleeding on the floor 😭 — 👼 angel anon (I SIMPLY LOVE YHIS NICKNAME 🥹)

You're Not Weak - Young!Sam + Dean Winchester x Older Sister!Reader

Summary: Your little brothers are always there for you after a hunt with your father goes south.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: John Winchester-induced angst. Slight references to abuse. Fem!Reader

A/N: HI ANGEL ANON! This request has been sitting in my inbox a while, I am so sorry it took so long to get out to you! This was something new for me- I've never written young Sam and Dean so I can't decide if I'm totally happy with this. I really hope you enjoy it!

It was torture. The road in front of you stretched long and dark. Quiet hung heavy in the air since neither of you had the words to speak- John out of anger, and you out of fear. Every so often, when the car would pass under a streetlight, you would peek over to your father in the driver’s seat. The lamps would illuminate his profile just enough for you to catch the outline of his expression. Each time, it grew the pit in your stomach until you felt like you were going to cave in on yourself and disappear. At this point, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed. 

It would’ve been one thing if he had yelled at you, screamed at you, told you all the things you did wrong and all the ways that you could be better. But he didn’t. He was so silent on the drive back to the motel- the kind of silent that teetered on the precipice of something you were all too familiar with. And all the blood pouring out of your cut didn’t help the worry. You were starting to feel delirious but you dared not bring it up. John already knew you were hurt- he had watched the creature throw you to the ground and slash at your side, waiting in the background for you to handle it yourself. You- 16, a fairly new hunter, his daughter. 

“Where were you?” You had cried after he came to your rescue.

“I thought you could handle it. Turns out, you couldn’t.” 

John had broken the silence of the ride a few times, muttering things under his breath. You could make out a few things here and there- can’t trust… ridiculous… weak. But for the most part, silence prevailed the entire car ride. He didn’t even say a word when you pulled into the motel parking lot, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him. You scrambled out of your own door, grabbing your things from the trunk and limping in behind the man, following him through the threshold into the room where Sam and Dean sat side by side on the couch.

“How’d it go? Did you get it?” Dean rose from his seat, always eager to hear about your hunts. He couldn’t ever stand staying behind. John snatched the now unloaded shotgun out of your hand and tossed at Dean, catching him off guard. He fumbled for a moment before gripping it across his chest like a soldier at attention. 

“Barely. You’re coming with me next time, Dean. Your sister can’t seem to handle herself and it’s gonna get us all killed. She can stay behind and babysit.” His tone was spiteful and dark. You knew there was something bubbling right below the surface- you and Dean shared a knowing look and a silent prayer that it wouldn’t boil over. John turned and stormed back out the front door you had just entered from. At the sound of the door’s slam, Sam’s head whipped towards you, attention now pulled from the TV show he had been engrossed in. 

You weren’t going to cry in front of your brothers. This whole ordeal had been embarrassing enough already, and you already felt weak without falling apart in front of them. You had to put on a brave face for them. It was your job to protect them, to provide a buffer between them and your father- to absorb the abuse so the two young boys wouldn’t ever have to face the aftershock. It was hard enough looking into Dean’s eyes- Dean, who understood, who knew it was now his turn to fall victim to the same fate. But when Sam- poor, innocent Sammy- trotted over from the couch asking if you were okay, a sob ripped from your lips. The impact of the sound escaping caused you to double over in pain, irritating the cut down your left side. Your brothers rushed to you in an instant, taking you by the arms to help lead you over to the bed. 

“I’m okay, it’s fine,” you protested, in a desperate attempt to save face.

But Sam and Dean didn’t listen. You hated when they had to see you like this, the poor kids patching up the damage that should have been yours alone to deal with. But by the way they stood, staring at you in earnest, you knew there would be no telling them no.  

“Dean, can you just grab me something to stop this blood?” You asked, which sent the boy running across the room and to scramble together a few things you may need. Dean’s worry for you was practical, methodical. He was quick to grab the first aid kit to help you stop the bleeding and patch back up. Watching him through the blurred vision of your tears, you thought to yourself how effectively John had trained Dean, and how great of a hunter he was going to be. It made your stomach churn. Sam, on the other hand, clung close to you. He snuggled into your good side and you wrapped an arm around his small frame. Sam’s care for you was sweet and innocent. You closed your eyes and prayed that Sam would never wind up a part of this life. That he would never feel the burn of stitching up his own wound, or the sting of your father’s hateful words.

With Sam still nestled into you, giving you a surge of comfort, Dean sat with the first aid packet, already reaching to run a disinfectant across the cut. 

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled, without pausing his task. 

“S’okay. Here, I got it,” you replied, reaching to grab the supplies from Dean, who pulled them out of your grasp.

“Relax. You’re pretty hurt, I’ll do it.”

“Dad already thinks I’m weak enough. If he walks back in here to see me letting you play nurse, I think he’ll disown me.”

“You aren’t weak,” Sam’s small voice spoke up. He looked up to you with wide eyes and continued. “You’re our big sister, you’re not weak at all.” You pushed the hair out of Sam’s eyes, ruffling it into the top of his head. 

“Thanks, Sammy,” you offered back with a smile. You were happy to have your brothers to come back to in these tough times. They each had their unique ways of being there for you, but you appreciated them both endlessly. You silently wished it could be like this forever. As much as you hated hunting with your father, it was better this way because it meant your brothers would be safe, that they would be there to help patch you up and lift your spirits when you were down.   

So there you sat with your younger brothers. Dean worked on cleaning and bandaging your injuries, while Sam told you stories all about what he was learning at school or what was happening in his favorite TV shows. The three of you sat, laughed, chatted, and everything felt like it was okay again. A while passed, and Dean’s work was long finished, but you all lingered, sat side by side by side on your bed. When the conversation finally lulled, you spoke.

“It’s late Sammy, you should get to bed.” Sam pouted in response but trudged across the room, tucking himself into the pull-out bed Dean had made for him earlier. You marveled at how it never took Sam long to fall asleep- you hoped it would stay that way, that the horrors of the world would never keep him up at night.

After Sam had gone to bed, you and Dean sat in silence, apart from the occasional pained expletives that spilled from your lips when you would shift in your seat combined with the concern that came from Dean’s. When you were sure the youngest boy had fallen asleep, Dean spoke. 

“He’s right, you know. Sammy, I mean. You aren’t weak.” 

“I fucked it up Dean, I almost got us killed.”

“You’re a good hunter. Don’t let Dad talk to you like that. Don’t let him make you feel like you’re not good enough.”

“Well, looks like I don’t have a choice. It’s your turn now,” you said with a humorless laugh. It hurt your heart to think that Dean, your kid brother, would be taking your place. But your father had been training him for years, and in a way, you knew this was coming. The second Dean was old enough, you knew the man would toss you aside in favor of your younger brother. John was always critical of you. No matter what you did, you were never good enough. To him, you were just a fill-in for Dean until he was able to step into the role himself. You knew Dean would be good at hunting- hell, he’d probably be a lot better than you. But the combination of rejection by your father and fear for your little brother weighed on your heart.

“Just be careful, Dean, okay? It’s… scary out there sometimes. You need to look out for yourself.” 

“I know. It’s what I’ve been training for. I’ll be okay.” Dean’s response was tender to match your concern, but it was also laced with a sense of pride. Dean was excited to hunt. It was as if he was stepping into a destiny he had been working towards his whole life. The familiar pit in your stomach began to grow. 

“We should get some sleep,�� Dean decided. He rose, packing the first aid supplies back into the duffle bag that sat slumped by the bed. You struggled to your feet, drawing in a sharp breath, before ambling across the room to your own bed. Dean called your name.

“Yeah?” 

“Maybe it’s a good thing Dad doesn’t want you to hunt with him anymore… You deserve better than this. Than Dad. I… just want you to be happy.” The tears welled back in your eyes, but Dean continued. “Sam and I look up to you a lot. Just don’t think badly about yourself, okay? Sam will be happy to have you around.”

Throwing Dean a thankful smile, you tucked yourself into bed. Tomorrow weighed heavy on your mind- it meant dealing with your injuries, facing your father, and watching your younger brother head out on his first hunt. But tonight, you let your whole body relax. For now, you and your brothers were safe and sound. And that would have to be enough.

[wiltedreamofbaldursgate]

Tell me more about Bg4: Darling, Mind if I Enjoy Myself?

I'm so curious

!!! Darling, Mind if I Enjoy Myself? is my first attempt at writing smut (Astarionxfem!Tav) and was supposed to be finished like two weeks ago :D I'm currently writing the last part, editing as I go and hope to have it up next week. Fair to say I'm a little excited because writing smut is somewhat out of my comfort zone, but so far it's been 50% frustration/50% soju induced fun! Yay ♡ Here's a little snippet:

Half-dried, dishevelled locks were plastered to his forehead as Astarion looked down at you, pupils blown with lust—no doubt a mirror of your own.  “Properly,” he said, his free hand tugging at your nightdress. “Let me fuck you properly. You don’t mind, do you?” If you weren’t half delirious with pent-up need you might’ve laughed at him.  “Do whatever you want with me, Astarion,” you pressed through clenched teeth, eagerly helping him work the offending garment over your head. “Enjoy yourself.”

[soundcrusher]

Of computers and mechs

Alright, after two days of writing and one headache, I can finally present this mess of a story featuring @cuppajj's version of Lord Imperious Delirious and my newest boy.

I don't know if I managed to grasp the being that is LID and write him correctly, but hey, I tried. And in the process, I set myself up for a second part. A part for which I already have an idea, but still.

What is it with me and being unable to just write a one-shot?

Either way, I hope you all enjoy this. ^^

(Should something be wrong with LID's depiction Cuppa, let me know. I'll change it then.)

----

Empty ships were nothing new. Especially not when there were many races who had already perfected the art of space travel. But it was strange for a cybertronian research ship to be abandoned without a single crew member in sight.

Usually, there should be someone around, be it alive or dead, but the stretching emptiness of winding halls where the dust and neglect has slowly settled in showed otherwise. There weren’t even corpses lying around. Granted, the ship wasn’t damaged, minus the small and simple blaster shots on the outside of the spaceship, but that didn’t have to mean anything. After all, it doesn’t always have to be a fight that kills Cybertronians. There are a plethora of reasons why a mech or femme could meet their end. Diseases had every race, and while the names and effects might be different, with a closer look, they were all the same.

And yet, it seemed like the crew of this research vessel hadn't disappeared because of a spreading disease, or a scraplet infestation. Both scenarios would have left something behind. Which means, the lack of crew could mean that they simply left. That theory was supported by the missing escape pods, but what happened doesn’t really matter. Not when the one who entered the ship was searching for information.

But for that, he would need access to the ship in general, but every time the ‘visitor’ tried to overwrite the ship’s passwords and security measurements, an [Access Denied] would pop up on the screen. It didn’t matter how many tries he took, or how much he changed his approach, it was always [Access Denied].

However, the tries did not go unnoticed. For what the visitor didn’t know was that the ship isn’t as empty as it may appear. There was still one crew member left behind. Tugged away in a sef-induced stasis that left them unresponsive to the happenings on the ship.

That was, until the intruder started to mess with the very code of the ship. Because for every access that got denied, the mech in stasis slowly started to wake up. Although, despite being ‘awake’ again after a long time of staying in stasis to protect himself, his mind still needed time to adjust. However, that time wasn’t given to the poor mech. Instead, the pain in his processor grew worse and worse with every [Access Denied], until things started to change on the ship.

At first, the engines deep within the bowels of the ship started to rumble and holler like wounded animals, before the lights turned on. Bathing the bridge in a cold, clinical, light as yet another [Access Denied] flashed across the screen. Although, before the visitor could try his luck again, the terminal started to shake. Folding in on itself while other parts extended. And as the keyboard snapped back and in place, there no longer was a control terminal/computer sitting in front of the visitor, but rather a slightly smaller than average Cybertronian.

An angry slightly smaller than average Cybertronian.

“Can’t you read?! When your access is denied, it usually means that you should stop! Do you have an idea about how many processor aches I get, whenever one of you greenhornes forgets the passwords and just tries their luck?” Asked the smaller mech, as he japped one digit at the other. “At least as many failed attempts as you made. And you know what that means?”

“I do not-”

“The ship’s security systems stop working correctly! And then I have to transform back and wait for security staff to come along and fix the problem. And I HATE when security comes. They're always rough and… wait…” The small mech stopped for a second to take a good look around the bridge, and as he saw that no-one else but them was there, he quickly got up. Stumbling a little bit due to not being used to moving after such a long time, before walking as far as his connection cable allowed it. “Where is everyone? They should be here… Th-They should be here!”

“Perhaps they had to evacuate.” Suggested the visitor, as he watched the still weak bot stumbled around the bridge. “The escape pods are missing after all and I haven’t found one single body on this vessel, except for you, which means that they must have left.”

“No. Nonononono! If they really left, then they wouldn’t have left me behind. They wouldn’t leave me behind. So, they’re probably on one of their scouting missions. I’m sure of it! They did talk about having found an interesting race after all.” Said the smaller bot as one of his keyboards snapped from his back to the front, while a small screen appeared above it. And as soon as he could, the small bot started to type away. Checking logs and camera feeds while sifting through information in rapid succession.

And as the small Cybertronian was occupied with searching for his ‘missing’ crew members, the visitor took his time to observe the smaller one. He’s heard of the various forms someone from the cybertronian race can take on. Cars, planes, boats, even beasts, and yet, he hardly has heard about anyone taking on the form of a control terminal, let alone a computer. It was fascinating, to say the least, but at the same time it means that gaining access to the ship’s archives would be more difficult than before. Especially if this small cybertronian’s connection to the ship runs as deep as he made it out to be.

Although, the visitor was sure that he could work with that too. Who knows, maybe he would even gain a new ally for his little group of misfits, if he played his cards right.

“Say…” started the visitor. Gaining the cybertronian’s attention in the process, if the little twitch of his head was any indication. “When was the last time you saw or interacted with your crew? I mean, if your first reaction is this, then it must have been only recently for you, but the state of the ship suggests otherwise. Surely, by now you must have noticed all the dirt and dust scattered around.” The visitor said, as he took a seat in the captain’s chair. One knee crossed over the other and servos folded, resting on said knee. “Also, I do not know why you’re calling me ‘greenhorne’. I am neither a newly constructed being, nor a green horn.”

While the small mech was looking at the visitor with uncertainty in his optics, which were hidden beneath his visor, the last sentence got a chuckle out of him. “Na, you might have horns, but they aren’t green.” He said, before shaking his head and letting his keyboard snap back onto his back. “And I tend to call new crew members ‘greenhorne’, especially if they forget the password and make too many attempts to gain access to whatever they need access to… But looking at you now makes me think that you aren’t really part of the crew…”

There was silence for a moment, before the smaller of the two sprung into action. Or better said, the small cybertronian quickly dove behind a console, and only peaked his head out, while a hatch in the ceiling opened and a small laser gun came down. Pointing straight at the visitor.

But the visitor wasn’t faced by any of that. He’s seen scarier security measures than that, and a simple laser gun shouldn’t do much against him. And yet, he still raised his hands in surrender, as he watched the other one. “Yes, I’m not part of your crew, nor am I a threat.” That didn’t seem to convince the small bot. In fact, it only seemed to make him even more tense, but the visitor simply continued his small speech. “I am only here, because I was curious. A ship like this one, stranded with holes in its hull but intact inside, surely you can understand my curiosity. And then, it only grew as I found a small terminal standing in an unusual place. If I had known that you’re a Cybertronian, I wouldn’t have tried so many times to gain access. I am deeply sorry if I caused you any pain, it was not my intention.”

While him admitting to have come for the information the ship held didn’t seem to help his case, the apology did. Because after he said sorry, the laser gun retreated. The small bot still stayed behind the console, but at least there wasn’t any weapon pointing straight at his head. And that was a small win. “Thank you. I don’t want to admit it, but having a gun pointed at me made me a little bit nervous.” A lie, but the other one didn’t need to know that.

“Well… you’re sorry…” Muttered the small cybertronian, as he slowly came out from behind the console. Arms crossed over his chest and tilted his head at the visitor as a sign of gratitude. “Not many apologise for causing me processor aches…”

“They don’t?”

“Na. They would usually yell at me for not giving them access, even though I know them.” The mech shrugged, as a small pout pulled at his lips. “But I can deal with the yelling. The kicking is worse. I mean, sure, they’re angry because they can’t do their work, but I don’t make the rules. If you need a password, you need a password. Captain’s rule. Not that they would get it though… it’s always the computer's fault if they can’t do what they want to do.” He muttered quietly, before shaking his head and looking over at the visitor. “Either way, you got a name?”

The visitor tilted his head at the small mech. Looking intensely at the cybertronian computer who was left behind by his own people, without ever knowing what happened to them, or why they didn’t come for him, and he lowered his hands back to rest on his knee. Nodding his head as a greeting. “My name is Imperious, sometimes Lord Imperious, it is a pleasure to meet you…?”

“I don’t have a name.”

That was surprising, and Imperious’ optics widened slightly at the simple admission, before they squinted in amusement. “Surely, you must have a name. Every cybertronian I have met so far has had one.”

The small mech simply shrugged his shoulders, before walking over to the communication terminal and sitting down in the chair in front of it. “Well… I did have a name, at first, but with time I forgot it. There wasn’t really a need for me to have a name, when everyone called me ‘Cybertronian Research and Security System’ or ‘CRaSS’ for short…. And even if I had one, I would probably not like it.”

“Then why not choose a new name.” Asked the taller one, as he gestured towards the other. “Why should you let others reduce you to nothing more than a machine? Why should you let others take your name and give you one that restricts you to nothing more than your function? And even if you liked that name, wouldn’t it just mean that you have accepted your fate to be nothing more than a tool for those seeking to take advantage of your uniqueness?” Imperious could see that his words struck something within the mech’s spark, if the way his lips pressed together or his body grew stiff was an indicator. But there was still wariness and reluctance. “How about a new name then? One that liberates you from the shackles put onto you by others. Would you like that, Quick Search?”

“Quick… Search?”

“If you don’t like that name, you can change it. But given the way you seem to be able to quickly search through information and find what you’re looking for, I thought it might be fitting. Or, perhaps, I should come up with a more suited name for a mech like yourself?”

Quick Search was quick to jump out of his chair and shake his servos viciously. “No!” Before realising what he was doing and stopping. Kneading his fingers together, as he bashfully looked to the side. “I… I mean… I like that name. Quick Search. It’s… different… Has a nicer ring to it than ‘CRaSS’. It sounds more like a name too…” Muttered Quick Search quietly to himself, before a bright smile broke out on his face, as he put his hands on his hips. Grinning up at his visitor while walking back to where he usually stands when using his alt-mode.

“Alright! I, Quick Search, number one Research and Security System and computer/control terminal of the ship ‘Wandering Scholar’ officially give you, Imperious, security clearance number 1 for one day. With that, you can access some rooms of the ship and some of the archived data without much problem. But that’s just for you to satiate your curiosity and as a ‘Thank you’ for giving me a name I actually like. Should you come back after your day is over, you’ll be noted as a visitor and nothing else.” Said the mech, before he transformed back into a terminal/computer. With his screen lighting up and displaying a mini version of himself on a side screen. “Well, what are you waiting for? Curiosity doesn’t really satisfy itself.”

“Maybe not, but it is still fascinating to see someone transform into such a unique form.” Said Imperious as he stood up from the captain’s chair and walked over to the terminal. Leaning over it, and this time, when he typed on the keyboard, he not only got a [Access Granted], but also a good impression on how much information this ship, and therefore Quick Search, hid beneath the surface.

Information he, with time and patience, will soon enough be able to access as well.

[quandaryqueen]

My thoughts on each Riddler

I have a fever and was feeling like I need to state my mind about each individual Riddler there in Batman medium. Obviously not including all of them because the comic book universe is heavily convuled.

This piece is brought to you by me and my delirious ass, enjoy. This doesn't follow any criteria, it's just me going off. As this progresses, I grow unhinged.

💚 Gotham 7/10

My first ever Riddler crush, he's the one who introduced me to the Riddler rabbit hole and the reason why I watched Gotham. Love the season one counterpart because I'm a softie for tall ass dork with glasses who are inherently pathetic. But then season 2 rolled around and I find myself wanting this little bitch to submit to me because like... Nothing fills me with satisfaction than see dominant people fall to their knees in submission.

Though I absolutely hated the relationship he has like, really? Isabella? Lee? Aight before anyone of you comes at me, I love those two gals but not just WITH Eddie. Tbh I stopped watching Gotham because of school works and EdLee. Like, omg kill me.

💚 Young Justice 7/10

He's barely appeared in it, but like, 👁️👅👁️ awooga I knew I've always liked them dweeby nerds. First I wasn't into his voice (cough because I have a thing for voices too) but like it grew on me and god I'd kill to hear his voice crack.

Idk why, I find it adorable when voice cracks it's just so stinken cute ugh. Like this boy sputtering out amid a conversation, flustered, can't even be coherent, then his voice cracks so he reddens more in embarrassment and cover his face?

Okay but anyways, yea I love him. Wished we had more of this little bitch. I like my men flustered and unable to talk from it, thank you very much. I want to break his pelvis by riding him and make him unable to speak and walk properly for the next few days.

💚 Arkhamverse 8/10

This pathetic washed out sewer rat has my neck in a chokehold of love, I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOUR! JRNFNDJCJ it's just that he's so... Rat looking. Though I must say, I have my eyes in his more... Sane looking days at Origin, so fucking sassy and sarcastic and cute and adorable and pretty and look at his slappable ass.

Thoo, I just know if I were to be in a relationship with a person like him irl, I'd fucking leave at like day 3 because your girl, this girl has seen enough red flags and can't really be bothered to take care of men who treat you like trash.

But anyways! I like this dude, he's so well-written and god I'm such a slut that I didn't even played the games and yet I simp and write for this dude like I know his entire story.

💚 Harley Quinn 7/10

Sarcastic, sassy, bitchy, smart, BUFF! God with every muscle he gains the more he loses his smarts, but I don't mind 👀

Since Harley Quinn is getting season three soon, I wish he will have more screen time because gosh I live for this bastard and every single quips he has with other characters.

💚 Batman the animated series 8/10

Honey pie, sugar bunch 🥰

Man got me smiling like a dork, this dork is just ugh. I love him, there's nothing more to say.

💚 The war of jokes and riddles 7/10

THIS MAN CAN MAKE ME DO THINGS WITH A SINGLE LEER AT MY DIRECTION, YES I AM AT HIS DISPOSAL JUST KEEP LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT. TALK DIRTY? NAH, RIDDLE ME DADDY~

💚 Batman Unburied 8/10

This man had singlehandedly revived my voice kink, ik ik I'm a crazy bitch but some people can have me at the tip of their fingers with their voices alone, get me?

I love how fucking annoying and irritating he is but at some point something about him broke my heart like um??? SIS YOU DESERVE BETTER 😭

But like, every time he speaks my eyes are hearts and I'm beaming like an idiot.

Also, iconic bitch 👌

Hah jencjdjfif can't wait for season two, aka more him.

💚 The Batman 2022 8/10

Get this incel away from me—

Okay at a portrayal standpoint, I love the acting of Paul Dano and the new flavour he brought for the new Riddler. He's scary, I was unnecered at him screaming, the Ave Maria singing activated my fight or flight response, but personally I like my Riddlers yassified.

But yea, I love this adaptation, but would I fuck? No ahahahahhahaha

[tommybaholland]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write a angst oneshot about the whole Izuku leaving UA incident and how his s/o would take it seeing that letter right after the war ark, and maybe their reaction if he came back?

If you've done this already please just ignore this! (ˊ˘ˋ*)

where are you, deku?

featuring: midoriya

recent manga chapter spoilers in this one! i have to admit that i haven’t been the biggest fan of the current arc thus far but this is one reason why i write. so i included some stuff that i feel were missed opportunities. also, if you read the manga, i’d love to hear any predictions you might have. enjoy! x

sitting in a hospital was never fun. it’s already bad if you’re there to be treated but sitting there, waiting for someone to wake up, not knowing that they will? you’d rather be admitted.

you didn’t know how he would recover from this. there’s no way his body could handle everything that he pushed through to stop the evil from winning. was there even a winner in this war? you’re not even sure how or why it started. there were so many things happening, so many twists and turns and surprises that everyone who survived physically wouldn’t have much luck mentally. 

no matter how you spin it, there was no silver lining. and you were not the only one plagued by the lasting effect. 

todoroki’s supposedly dead brother is alive and a mass murder, mirio has his powers again but doesn’t know that tamaki might be dead, midnight’s death was confirmed days ago and no one could just forget about it..

and it had been three days, but deku had not awoken from his unconscious state. 

you were adamant about being the first one he saw when he woke up. he’d say that you’re stubborn but that was one thing you had in common. it was odd for him to stay unconscious for this long when he had always been the epitome of persistence. 

the sound of all might entering the room jerked you awake from what was probably the tenth time you had dozed off. 

“y/n,” he addressed. “you have done a great job keeping midoriya company but i think it’s time for you to get some rest. todoroki and bakugo have awoken, why don’t you go check on them with your other classmates?”

you didn’t even look over to him, not wanting to see the pitiful expression on his face. 

“why isn’t he waking up, all might? he doesn’t even look like he’s in pain,” you observed, looking down at your unconscious partner. 

“that must be a good thing, though, right?” the former hero replied. 

“yes but,” you paused, unsure of how to say it. “it’s odd. he’s not in a coma-induced state, he just looks like he’s taking a nap.” 

all might knew that midoriya and bakugo had kept the secret of ofa between them. now might be a good time to tell everyone, or at least everyone who should know, what was going to happen to him. midoriya was not unconscious nor asleep but was in a similar state, one that allowed him to talk to the previous holders of one for all. 

until he finishes his conversation with them, an explanation would have to wait.

“you have observed well, y/n. i can assure you that he is not in any pain and will wake up eventually. he’ll want to tell you everything when he does. until then, please go tell the other students what you know for now.”

“what if he wakes up?” you questioned, continuing to face deku with your hands over one of his casted arms.

“i’ll have someone send for you but i’m sure you’ll be around when he finally wakes,” all might reassured. 

you nodded, too tired to protest at this point. you stood from your seat before leaning down to press a parting kiss to his freckled cheek. his skin was warm which prompted a tear you didn’t know was there to fall down your cheek. he was alive but you wanted him to be okay. 

you wiped the tear from your face and sniffled before turning around to finally face all might. he patted your shoulder as you walked by, quickly leaving the room. you decided that you would do as you were told and to go check on your other classmates. however, you didn’t get very far when you ran into bakugo who was storming down the hallway while resisting the restraint of sato and mineta.

“Y/N! WHERE IS HE?”

It almost made you smile to see that bakugo was still his belligerent self, despite being seriously injured. however, that doesn’t mean he should be walking around so soon. you stood in front of the door to deku’s room, prohibiting him from entering. once he finally reached you, he tried to push past you with his hands on your shoulders. 

“you better move out of the way or start talking before i kill both you AND HIM,” he threatened when you wouldn’t move. 

“he’s still unconscious,” you replied solemnly. “but all might’s certain that he will wake up.”

bakugo’s demeanor changed as he observed the melancholy expression on your face. he wasn’t an idiot but you were. it was the least he could do.

“well, i agree with him. of course he’s going to wake up, you idiot.”

you looked up at him, waiting for elaboration from his sudden confidence.

“tch. i thought you loved him or whatever. somehow your annoying ass decided to put up with his dumbass so you of all people would know that he wouldn’t just quit. and if he does, i’ll make sure he’s really dead.”

-

once almost everyone was discharged from the hospital, you were instructed to return to UA. you were told that you would receive updates and further instructions the next morning. however, sleep was far from what you would receive. despite the exhaustion, you were restless beyond belief which made you delirious and you couldn’t tell if the shuffling outside your room was real or not. 

you woke up early, just when the sun was beginning to rise. you decided to get up as there was no point in trying to fall back asleep. you didn’t get even a step outside your room after stepping on a folded piece of paper that had been shoved under the door, waiting for you. 

it was a letter from him. 

it turns out that seemingly everyone got a letter from him. all of them varied in contents but they all conveyed the same message:

he had left the hero course. 

they also explained his power and how it passed down from all might which is the reason why the league of villains and all for one were after him. yours, however, included a little extra message written at the end. 

i love you, y/n. please don’t come looking for me. 

he had probably blamed himself for all the strife he had caused with the war but you thought it was dumb for him to leave. how did he think he was going to do this on his own? there was obviously more to this story than he provided but given that he told everyone in the class, he had to keep it simple. 

it was all making sense to you, shedding some light as to why all might was so sure of deku’s recovery. however, you didn’t get to see him when he woke up like you were told. he played it safe in writing these letters because he knew that you and others in the class would only try to stop him if he left. everyone was asking you about what you knew and you couldn’t tell them squat. you tried calling and texting him but he wouldn’t answer.

it was an odd feeling. you didn’t know whether you should be mad or not. if you couldn’t see your boyfriend yourself, you had to talk to all might. however, mr. aizawa was the only thing standing, or rather now sitting, in your way. 

“by now, you all know that your classmate, midoriya, has left the hero course. this does not mean that the rest of you should follow in his footsteps.”

even though he didn’t tower over everyone anymore from his wheelchair, he was still equally as intimidating. 

“now, UA has agreed to use its campus as an evacuation shelter. your families have already begun the moving process. classes will resume as normal but no one will be allowed to leave the campus under any circumstances. we’ve put a pause on all work study-related activities outside of the school until we know that there are no more possible threats, at least, for now. any questions can be directed to me.”

“will all might be returning?” you asked.

“all might will be taking leave from teaching for now,” answered mr. aizawa. “as i said, you can direct your questions to me.”

“right, sir, but i have questions for him about dek-- i mean, midoriya.” 

“well, you’ll have to wait until he finds an opportunity to return then.” 

“when will that be?”

“whenever he finds an opportunity, y/n. any other questions?”

it seemed like you were at a loss until you remembered something from when you were in the hospital with deku. bakugo’s behavior when you told him what all might said changed rather abruptly and you don’t think it’s because all might is his favorite pro hero. although they grew up together, deku and bakugo were anything but close. however, bakugo’s affirmation that he would recover felt odd and like he knew something that made him sure of it. 

this led you to pursue him as your next lead. 

you found him later in the kitchen making something for himself, as he usually cooked for himself than eating the food sent over by the school. 

“what did you think about his letter?”

“what letter? i didn’t get anything from that damn nerd.”

that was surprising but that logic further pushed the idea that he knew something and therefore didn’t need a letter to explain it to him. 

“so you don’t know anything about this?” you asked as you pulled out the folded-up paper that was left at your door that morning. 

bakugo snatched the paper out of your hand and scanned over its contents quickly. his brows raised by the time he reached the end before he grimaced again. 

“that idiot,” he muttered under his breath. 

“so you didn’t know about it?”

“this is almost the same as what everyone else got,” he observed, ignoring your question. 

“okay. but did you know about it?” you asked again.

“of course i did, you dumbass! so are you gonna ask me a billion questions now that his cowardly ass isn’t here to explain it to you like he should’ve?”

“so there is more to it.”

“he gave you the gist of it. that’s really all you need to know.”

“but what do shigaraki and all for one have to do with this?”

“can’t you read? the letter literally explained that.” 

“like you said, it was really only the gist of it.”

“well, you were right in wanting to talk to all might but i guess you’ll have to wait.”

“no. if you know something, i need to hear about it. also, why do you get to know about all this?”

“because that moron originally told me about it back when we started school here. i didn’t take it seriously at the time until he started getting stronger. right after we moved to the dorms, he and all might told me everything,” he explained.

“i need you to tell me what happened then because he and all might aren’t here right now.”

“look, it’s really not my job to tell you! this really belongs between the two of them. dumb deku just promised that he would be strong enough to try to beat me.”

“at least tell me why he felt he had to leave when we could’ve helped him! i know he likes to act like a selfless idiot but i don’t know if he can do this by himself.”

bakugo sighed. “this is his fight and his fight alone. like icyhot said back at the sports festival, he has all might in his corner. that’s all the help he’s gonna need.”

you nodded in agreement.

“plus, that dumb power of his involves more than what you’ve seen of it,” he added cryptically.

“what does that mean?”

“did you even read the letter? it said that the power was passed down from all might to him, moron.”

 “again, that doesn’t really mean much to me,” you pressed.

“tch. yeah. you probably only paid attention to that gross end part. that stupid nerd,” he muttered. 

“what was that?”

“look, i’m done talking with you. either talk to all might or use your damn head.” 

that wasn’t a complete waste of time but it certainly was a lost cause. despite his arrogance, everything bakugo said was true. he’s not someone who goes around lying about things so you felt that you could trust him when he said that deku would be in good hands with all might. 

you left the kitchen somewhat satisfied but it still bothered you that you didn’t know everything completely. you wondered if there was anyone else who knew about it but the chances were slim, given that bakugo also stated that it was between deku and all might. 

while heading back up to your room, you ran into todoroki. you hadn’t talked to him much since the war. out of anyone, he was probably going through it more than anyone. 

“hey, todoroki. how are you holding up?” you asked, grinning softly. 

his voice was still recovering but it was a lot better than a few days ago. “hello, y/n. my family’s okay for the most part and my father is finally doing what he should.”

you didn’t want to pry but you knew what he meant. 

“did you get a letter?”

“from midoriya? yes. i’m not especially surprised since he and all might have been close since school began. however, i do find it odd that he suddenly has another power. did you notice it?”

you nodded. “it first happened during the training session with class B, right?”

“yes. were you ever curious about it?”

“he was probably more freaked out about it than anyone else so i didn’t focus too much on it,” you explained.

“i asked him about it and i agree, he did seem apprehensive about it.”

there was a beat of silence then which had you pondering over what bakugo had said.

“apparently there’s more to his power than we think and it has something to do with the passing from one user to another,” you reported.

“i’ve been thinking about that, as well,” todoroki replied. “it’s possible that midoriya’s power is evolving to beyond what all might could do with it. it would make sense, given quirk singularity.” 

his theory seemed reliable since he would know about something like singularity. 

“thank you for sharing that with me, todoroki. it think it’s quite possible that you’re right. i’m going to try to talk to all might if you want to confirm it,” you offered.

“thank you, y/n, but i believe the answer will be more clear later on. there’s something i have to focus on for myself right now. i hope you find out more soon.”

you thanked him, wished him well, and made the rest of the way to your room. now, you really couldn’t imagine what todoroki was going through. if anything, he had just as much weight on his shoulders as deku right now. 

then again, you still needed answers as to exactly what he was doing.

later that night, bakugo sat on his bed looking down at a piece of paper. it had four simple words on it. words that both excited and annoyed him immensely. 

i’m catching up, kacchan. 

-

months passed and you hadn’t heard from deku. well, you had but not in the way you wanted. you finally got in touch with all might, who showed up to UA in person. apparently, mr. aizawa had passed down the message that you were wanting to talk but you don’t know how long ago that had been. you appreciated his effort but at this point, it was your boyfriend who you needed to see now. you didn’t want to displace your anger onto him but he could see that distress that you are in. 

“i’m sorry that he couldn’t come himself,” all might apologized.

you sighed. “it’s alright. it seems like he has better things to do now.”

“he just needs to work on yielding one for all,” all might elaborated. 

“is that what it’s called? one for all?”

“he didn’t tell you about it? i thought he wrote everyone in the class a letter?” 

“he did but he didn’t go into too much detail which is why i wanted to talk to you,” you explained, your tone rather aloof. 

“right. of course,” all might replied before clearing his throat to fill in the missing pieces.

it turns out that todoroki’s theory was on the track in that one for all had reached the singularity point and the quirks from its predecessors were beginning to manifest. 

“the fact that he was completely quirkless before one for all makes the singularity point easier for him to transition to and use the other six quirks.”

that was news to you. “he was quirkless?”

“yes.”

it was all making sense now. everything that seemed off about him and his power was because he never had one in the first place. you also could now understand why bakugo was the most hostile with him when it came to training and deku’s improvement with his power. and this was why bakugo was dead set on deku coming out of this alive. 

however, you couldn’t help but feel naive. you felt like you should’ve listened to your intuition more when things weren’t adding up and he was landing himself back in the hospital with broken arms time after time. but you ended up falling in love with him and it wasn’t because of his power. in the same vein, you weren’t about to hate him for it either, like bakugo or even todoroki at the beginning of the school year. he had worked hard to where he is now and the truth was that he had always been that way, quirk or not. 

but how come he felt the need to hide it all, especially from you? bakugo had only recently been clued in about all of it so why not you as well?

“i made him not say anything to anyone, especially since i had started teaching at the school,” all might explained, continuing to be incredibly perceptive. “and bakugo was only roped in because he was catching on to it.”

“yeah. he told me that deku originally told him a while ago,” you recalled. “so what is he going to do about shigaraki and all for one?”

“we’re not entirely sure yet. right now he’s mostly acting as bait to try to lure out the league of villains while taking care of any stray villains from the prison breaks.” 

“so what you’re saying is you don’t have a plan?” you questioned.

“we’re considering all of our options, y/n.”

“who?”

“deku, myself, endeavor, and hawks. best jeanist has also been helping with recon,” he elaborated. 

of course, he’d have the top three heroes and all might on his side. not to mention all the vestiges talking to him in his head. what about the rest of the class though? surely he was going to need more than that. hero society is hanging by a thread that could snap at any moment if the villains strike again first. 

“why didn’t you let me see him after he woke up?” you asked, changing the subject. 

“we wanted him to stay at UA, as that’s where he’d be most protected. unfortunately, every decision has been his own,” he answered.

that was what you were afraid of. 

since that conversation, the city had been partially recovered, villains were being captured, and there weren’t any threats as of yet from the league. UA fully reinstated work study programs and students were allowed out under heavy supervision. 

todoroki kept coming back from his father’s agency with letters from deku to give to you. you read them, of course, but hadn’t replied to a single one. talking to all might was helpful, it really was, but you couldn’t help this nagging feeling inside you. his letters didn’t help much either. of course, you were happy to hear from him and it did give you that tingling feeling of love that you hadn’t felt in months. 

the letters mostly detailed what he was doing and provided updates on his progress since you had talked to all might. however, if he was freely moving about the city, you didn’t understand why he couldn’t just come talk to you. all might had said that all the decisions made were his own and he was doing it in the best interest of you, the school, and his family. the thought of deku saying that he didn’t want to see anyone else get hurt made you shake your head. he’s very persistent and strong-willed but he too often doesn’t accept the help nor listen to the warnings of others, yourself included. 

you missed him but you were also resentful towards him and you hated feeling that way. you wanted to be supportive rather than selfish but it was hard when he could be too self-sacrificing. it’s not that you didn’t have faith in him. you just wanted to prepare for the worst. 

-

“hey, idiot.” 

“what is it, bakugo?”

bakugo and todoroki approached you one day after they came back from their work study. 

“we’re trying to tell you something important so don’t cop an attitude right now,” he glared.

you gave him an unamused look, unfazed by the irony. “so did you need something?”

todoroki spoke up next. “yes. my father would like to recruit you for work study. you don’t currently have one, right?” 

“no. i don’t,” you replied honestly. “why does endeavor want me all of the sudden?” 

“because midoriya—“

“shut up, you half and half moron!” bakugo interrupted. “look, we need help and thought you would want to be included.”

“okay. but why me?” 

“you’re such a dumbass. just come with us!” 

and now you were here at the endeavor agency in your hero costume with an uneasy feeling. maybe it was because you were standing right in front of the number one himself.

“hello, y/n.” 

it was true that he didn’t have any other expression other than a scowl. lately, that scowl seemed worn down and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. 

“bakugo and shoto have told me about you. of course, i first heard about you from deku.” 

your ears perked up at his hero name. you hadn’t heard it in months. 

“since he has left the hero course, we needed another student apprentice at the agency. the reason why we didn’t contact you sooner was that we were overconfident in thinking that we didn’t need another and for that, i personally apologize.”

endeavor bowing to you was a sight you thought you’d see only in your dreams. 

“so what is this really about then?” 

“the league of villains is on the move and he needs some help.” 

you didn’t have time to even think of a response before the familiar mess of green hair came into view. that was really the only familiar thing about him against his dirty and tattered hero costume. not to mention all the upgrades that you had never seen before. 

“hey, y/n,” he greeted with a soft grin.

you felt like your heart had stopped for a solid three seconds. 

“deku…” you breathed out finally. you let the tears well up in your eyes. you didn’t want him to see you cry. you felt a rush of adrenaline pull you towards him and tackle him to the ground. 

from the view, it looked like you were happy to see him. you were anything but thrilled. 

“why— how— w- what are you doing here?” you questioned, leaning over him on the ground. you face felt hot with rage but you couldn’t stop it. the more you tried to suppress your emotions, the more intense they felt. 

“well, i wanted to see you!” he answered, trying to lighten the mood. 

“you wanted to SEE ME!? what about the previous eight months, huh? or when you woke up? you didn’t want to see me then either?”

“y/n, please i didn’t intend to abandon anyone. i only wanted to protect—“

“everyone, right?” you interrupted him. “what about the rest of us? we want to be heroes too! we’ve fought countless battles and went through a whole war with you! when are you going to get it through your dumb head that we want to help you?”

“heh. they sound like me now,” bakugo quietly commented as he and todoroki watched this whole scene. 

“i wouldn’t get excited about that,” replied todoroki.

“i’m sorry if i’m being selfish but this isn’t fair, deku,” you cried, your tears dripping onto his face. 

if he thought about it, deku had improved immensely in the last several months, most likely at a quicker rate than he had at UA. however, that was because there wasn’t as much restraint on the usage of his powers. he got to fight high-level villains without a lot of supervision. he was essentially a vigilante and the top three of the hero society were allowing him to do it. 

“i’m sorry for leaving, y/n,” he began, sitting up as you leaned up off of him to wipe your tears. 

“i wasn’t thinking about everyone’s feelings but i felt that it wasn’t anyone’s decision. you guys would have stopped me no matter what.”

you didn’t make eye contact with him until his next sentence. 

“but that doesn’t mean i should be treated as a special case. you’re right, i shouldn’t waste all the energy and effort everyone has put into to stop something that i’m mostly responsible for. even though i’ve been figuring things out on my own lately,  i have no idea how i’m going to stop all for one or save shigaraki.” 

you suddenly felt stupid as he looked down solemnly. you were stupid for overreacting. at the end of the day, this was his fight. no one else could do this but him. however, hearing that he needed help was what you needed to hear. 

your boyfriend needed help.

“hey,” you called softly, placing a hand over his cheek. he looked up as you with glossy green eyes. 

“you don’t have to do this all by yourself. you have so many friends and heroes wanting to help you. i know you don’t want to lose anyone but i think everyone involved knows the risks.”

you looked back to bakugo and todoroki for reassurance. todoroki nodded in agreement while bakugo simply, “tch. whatever.”

“you’ve got me, too. you’re never gonna lose me, deku. and i won’t let you lose either. i love you too much even if you can be really dumb sometimes.”

“i love you too, babe,” he reciprocated, his face getting closer to yours. “i did really miss you.”

“i know, baby.”

you completed the reconciliation with a sweet kiss, one that made bakugo roll his eyes.

“can you idiots stop wasting my time already?!”

“i agree,” endeavor spoke up. “we should start telling them what we know.”

“right! sorry, sir!” your boyfriend squeaked before scrambling to get you both off the floor. you stifled a laugh. he’s probably seen some stuff over the last few months but his cute, spastic self didn’t change much. 

“let’s get y/n acclimated to the agency first and then we’ll go over everything,” endeavor suggested. 

“oh my gosh, y/n! i can’t wait to show you how huge this place is! c’mon,” deku exclaimed, grabbing your hand and pulling you around the office.

he didn’t want to let go once but if you wanted to because your hands were sweaty, he’d simply reach for it again. his thumb ran over the back of yours when you were just standing next to each other, giving it an occasional squeeze. even when it was his turn to talk, he didn’t release.

“okay so here’s what i’ve done recently and the information i’ve gathered from those encounters..”

you didn’t know what the end result would be and he was none the wiser. he knows how he wants it to end and now he has people he can count on for that.

heyy bnha night! let’s hear about more of your favs..

[whump-me-all-night-long]

The Jewelry Box: Carnelian’s Undoing

my contribution to Spiral Day, started by @brutal-nemesis

Did I cry while writing this? Absolutely, it was like Niagara Falls over here. This is probably one of the most emotionally draining pieces I’ve ever written. It took me several different sessions, spread out over quite a few days, to get it completed. It’s also one of those where I feel like it’ll never be really and truly ready, so here it is anyways. I hope y’all enjoy it because this was one piece that I was extremely nervous to post and share.

Taglist: @newbornwhumperfly @unicornscotty @itsleighlove @whump-scribbles @getyourwhumphere @skunkandgrenade @penny-for-your-whump @lektric-whump @just-a-whump-lover @thelazywitchphotographer @restrainthenmaime @angstyachesplus @lilbitwhumpy @leaderofthebeanarmy @aquard-skaii @whumprincess @thatgaysnail @finaldreams1106 @reveriedeludesme @kemonoinuzuka @circlingravens @whumpasaurus101 @spicy-wendigo @femmewithadhd @wafflestakethecake @lonesome–hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: thoughts of death, like so many thoughts about death, that’s basically the entire piece, acceptance of death (not in a suicidal way, more in a “I’m okay with dying” type way), beating, painful wound cleanings, noncon touching (nonsexual), implied death (but no real death), referenced grief, intimate whumper, creepy whumper, pet whump, being sold, noncon drugging, please please please let me know if I missed anything, this is a rather heavy piece and I want to make sure everyone can read it as safely as possible!

Masterlist

-

He was laying there, unable to move, every single inch of his body aching, a pain he’d never experienced before. Distantly, as if from another life, he heard screams, sobs, pleas that went unanswered. He wanted to move, to get up and comfort the person that had become his entire world, but he was stuck; he couldn’t move a fraction of an inch, no matter how hard he tried.

Soon enough, the horrible sounds of grief and guilt and death were replaced by the shallow, near-silent rattle of his own breath and the pounding of blood in his ears. He knew there was something important that he needed to do, something that he knew his life depended on, but he couldn’t remember what.

So instead, he just stayed there, his broken body sprawled out on the hard floor, blood pooling out from under him like a halo of death.

-

There was movement around him, stirring him from the half-conscious daze he was in, delirious from pain and blood loss. He blinked slowly, vision so blurry he couldn’t make out a thing, surprised to find his eyelashes meeting something wet.

Am I crying? When did I start crying?

A hand in his hair pulled his head up, the part that had been pressed into the floor feeling damp and sticky. Dark eyes met his own glazed gaze, and he saw the flash of teeth. He would’ve flinched if he could, but he couldn’t. 

“Hey there, sugar,” a low, soft voice said. “You took your punishment so well. Played your part like a champ. Now my sweetheart’s breaking, all thanks to you. I knew you’d be absolutely perfect.”

For some reason, he started crying harder at that. No, he thought, I didn’t want to do this. You made me do this. He can’t break, not now. 

Not over me.

The other dropped his head back down, and he went back to drifting, letting all the thoughts fall out of his head.

-

He woke next to the tap tap tap of footsteps. Blinking groggily, he tried to sit up, tried to get up, but the pain lancing through his body prevented him from doing more than rolling over a couple inches. 

A shiny shoe resting on his cheek, pressing his head down, kept him from attempting it again. A face settled in his line of sight, and his lip curled.

The Jeweler stared at him for a moment, a pleasant smile on his face. “Hello, sugar,” he said, removing his foot and replacing it with his hand, which stroked his face in a way that made him want to push him off, but his body was still not responding to him.

He swallowed several times before cracking open his mouth. “What-” His voice was rough and hoarse, sending a cough through him. “What did you do to, to me? Where- where is he?” Panic started overwhelming him, crashing over him and pulling him down, drowning him.

He couldn’t remember anything. He had been in his cell, whispering with his world, and then there was nothingness, blankness, emptiness. Tears pricked in his eyes, and he took a shaky, shuddering breath that ended up sounding like a sob. 

The Jeweler moved his hand to comb through his hair, still softly smiling. “Shh, shh,” he soothed. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about any of that. You don’t need to remember any of this. What you need is to forget. You’re going someplace new, and you’re leaving all of this behind. Okay, sugar?”

He tried to shake his head, but it was barely more than a twitch. No, no I don’t want that. Please, don’t kill me, don’t make me leave, I can’t leave him, please.

The Jeweler laughed softly. “My silly sugar,” he said, voice dripping with condescension. “Just relax, okay?”

“Please,” he managed to whisper before his head was set back down.

The Jeweler stood, grabbing something out of his line of sight. When he did see what it was, the fat tears rolled down his face even harder. The large needle, filled with a menacing amber liquid, came close to his neck, piercing it easily with him weak and nearly paralyzed. His mouth opened to whine softly at the cold flooding into him, before it withdrew and was left alone again.

His eyes found the Jeweler and he sobbed, begging, “Please, not this, anything but this.” He just smiled.

-

He didn’t so much as wake up next as he did rise to consciousness, suddenly and roughly. Hands, too many hands, were touching him, grabbing him, manhandling him.

A low groan slipped out of him as he tried and failed to open his eyes and he heard a muttered curse. 

“It wasn’t supposed to wear off yet, was it?” someone asked in a hushed voice.

“Who cares?” someone else responded. “It’s not like it’ll remember any of this anyways.”

He whimpered and the hands resumed their work. He could feel them harshly cleaning out his wounds, bandaging them up. The people surrounding him were thorough, his gently throbbing muscles telling him that much, and it felt like an eternity before they were done.

He sighed as they set him back down, ready to slip back off to oblivion, but then they were back, pulling at his clothing, taking it off-

He yelped as the cold air hit his sensitive skin, struggling against the hands. Weak as he was, it barely affected them, but he still heard several more curses as flailing limbs knocked into them. A backhanded slap had him stilling, though, knocking all the fight out of him and leaving him even more dizzy and disoriented than he was before.

He let them pull new clothes onto him, although they felt less like clothes and more like scraps of cold, thin cloth that barely covered him. He shivered and whimpered, high in his throat, face burning, desperately wishing he was anywhere else in the world.

Another voice joined the fray, this one too painfully familiar. “Is he ready?”

A chorus of “yes, sir”s followed, and then hands grabbed at his arms, lifting him up and dragging him along. His head rolled wildly, completely out of his control.

After what felt like an eternity, he was dropped yet again onto cold floors, crumpled in a heap. He whimpered as his head knocked against the hard tile, eyes struggling to stay open. 

Distantly, he heard the Jeweler barking orders. He let the words wash over him, floating around him, unable to pierce his drug-induced bubble of semi-consciousness. 

Instead, he let his thoughts drift back to him. The him that had started all of this, that he’d known since day one, that had helped him and held him, guided him and encouraged him. The him that had loved him. The him that he had loved.

It took him several moments to realize that he was crying again, silent, salty tears dripping down his face, causing the small cuts littering his skin to burn faintly. He knew he was about to die. He wasn’t scared. Angry, yes. Sad, yes. But scared? No, he wasn’t scared of death at all.

He used to be scared of being stuck in this hell on earth for the rest of his life, of never escaping, always stuck in this stasis. Now, he was scared of leaving him behind, not knowing what was going to happen to the person he was about to die for. Wherever he went after this, he didn’t want him to follow very quickly.

No, he wanted him to escape, to forget, to live. He wanted him to find someone else, someone new, to make him happy, who understood and forgave. Maybe one day he’d tell this new person about the old one, the one who had been sacrificed to get him there. 

There was only one regret he had. The one thing they’d sworn never to say, he wished he had said. And he wished he had heard it in return.

I promise, if I make it out of this, the first thing I’ll do when I escape - when, not if - is find you and tell you that I lo-

He was yanked out of his thoughts by hands grabbing him, lifting him. One last tear rolled down his face, into his hairline. He took a deep breath, one of his last. He felt ready to die. He didn’t mind dying, not for this reason.

He wondered, vaguely, how he would go. Would it be a bullet? Fire? Knife? Poison?

It was none of those things. 

He was placed inside a large wooden box. His hands were easily tied behind his back with what felt like silky ropes, and his ankles were forced together with the same material. A cloth gag was placed in his mouth, securely fastened around his head. He blinked slowly, confusion evident on his face. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

Somewhere above him, the Jeweler stood, seen through flashes of dark hair and pale skin, sparkling teeth and bright eyes. He reached down into the box to cup his cheek, stroking a smooth thumb over his skin, pressing lightly into a blooming bruise there.

“Just a bit beat up, right, sugar?” he said, almost.. gently? “By the time you get there, you’ll be nearly back to full health, I dare say.” There? Where was there? “Just close your eyes now, and stay calm, alright? You’re doing such a good job here, making me a wonderful sum along with a new business associate. You’ve really been the perfect Jewel for me, sugar.”

The hand withdrew, and he almost found himself missing the warmth of it when the light above him was cut off, something large being placed over the top of the box. It wasn’t until a painfully loud whirring sound started that he realized that it was the lid, and it was being drilled down, secure and unable to be broken.

Then the box was being lifted into the air and he went rolling as much as he could, unable to stop himself due to his restrained limbs. There was a hard thump and he banged his head against the side of the box, immediately losing consciousness.

-

When he woke up next, he was still in the box. It seemed like it was in some sort of plane, gliding smoothly through the air, occasionally tilting to one side or the other. He breathed in a ragged breath, most of his memories coming back to him. As he struggled to pull himself up into somewhat of a sitting position, he remembered three things, three very important things:

One. His name was Carnelian. He’d all but forgotten the name he had before that. The name that mattered was Carnelian.

Two. He was supposed to be dead, but he wasn’t. Instead, he was being sold, shipped off to God knows where, to God knows who.

Three. He had to get back to Sapphire. He had to find the love of his life again, rescue him and tell him that he loved him.

[red1ight]

im so tired and delirious but i wanted to write down some thoughts about the concert tonight before i forget ~

I’m literally in love with all 7 of them<333

it was really great. Their music is just soooo fucking GOOD man. it's like every song that they do just gives that feeling of OH my god this is my song, this is my favorite song. It’s just so enjoyable. All those genres!! the performances... they're really the group for me they're my favorite music artist for a reason

Their mics were ON. you could really really hear their voices for every song and they sounded amazing

The REAL struggle is that there 7 of them and I only have 2 eyes.. and I want to see all of them all of the time !! insert that one direction meme that’s like zayn only has 2 eyes. REALLY feeling that

The crowd went wild for scream and odd eye!!! taste! although I would say that about any of their songs tbh what am I saying lol

no but scream live is so exhilarating

Maison was SO fun. What a stunning performance

they were saying how 2022 has been a special year for them and that they're glad to be touring again and they thanked us for their first win which was 🥲really sweet

they pointed out how it was dongie's first time in ny :)

They all did mini performances of their solo songs like really low key and they were joking around it was fun. yoohyeon tried dancing to No Dot sdkfk also. when yoohyeon danced to ‘For’ she grabbed siyeon really quick last minute to dance with her in place of that 1 male dancer from the showcase performance and siyeon dipped her when yoohyeon twirled into her arms ahhjhhdgdfg I SWOONED dream girl things sshsjdnsb sorry anyway of course of course I have to mention how heart eyes-inducing siyeon was like wowowow her presence her energy OK now moving on for real

when handong did her bit of winter for some reason the back track audio came out a little weird? skdjf it was more like Handong -Winter (Bass Boosted) which is so weird for that song aksjdfh it was funny it made me laugh

they did the new songs!!! starlight and together and locked inside a door!

OH and I will mention that some fans handed yoohyeon a pride flag and she held it up and danced around a little bit with it for a while happy pride ily yoohyeon

Not to complain though (just a little bit sorry) but honestly i thought the crowd wasn’t great djjskldh I know I feel like I say that about every concert I go to for one reason or another but like. why was everyone so low energy??? It just seemed like from where i was and what i saw everyone was just standing around most with their phones up many not even really watching it seemed? Idk like I don’t mean to hate, you can enjoy a concert however you want but i was hoping for a crowd like the one they got in Barcelona.. I feel like even the girls noticed it was low energy. Oh well next time maybe I’ll try to find a group of somnias to go with

apparently ppl in the front area kept getting pushed or something? Idk i hope everyone's ok

I kinda wish they had just a little more time just to talk and also wish they had done a few other particular songs but I understand they have so many songs now that they want to perform as many as they can; it’s a trade off

But overall I had a good time!! they’re so incredible live like hearing their voices and especially seeing them dance live is awe inspiring.. on the ride back i was just thinking all they way back to chase me and i could not have imagined how far they'd come and how amazing they'd grow to be. it's really astonishing!! I wish I could just see them again and again and again<3 :’)

[amethyst-crystalfly]

“Fever Dream”

Pairing | Todoroki Shoto x f reader

Themes | Hurt/comfort, fluff, tooth rotting fluff, fever comfort

warning | migraine attacks? mentions of passing out ( I am sorry I don’t know if they really need warnings, but just in case since this is my first time posting a fic like this)

Authour’s note: Hi guys! This is my new secondary blog for all stuff anime related. Feel free to leave a comment or drop an ask for a fic yu might be interested in. This is written from my personal experience with migraines, but you might have had different experiences, but I hope you enjoy this! Thank you so much for reading Love you!

wc | 2454 

You stirred on your bed to the sound of your morning alarm going off. As you reached for the digital clock to make it stop you felt a dull headache building up.

“Ugh it is way too early for this right now” you thought to yourself as you groggily sat up in your dorm room bed. You were an aspiring hero you surely couldn’t let a small headache get in the way of your hero course classes. So, you stood up with resolve to get through this day and tried to block out the steadily increasing headache.

You went about your usual routine and promptly met your dorm mates for breakfast after getting ready for classes. You greeted them and tried your best to participate in conversations despite of the uneasiness.

Class started as usual and you decided to keep yourself busy in order to keep your mind off the headache. However, your eyes were burning up, they felt prickly. Every time you closed your eyes it felt like someone was pricking needles at your eyes. It was Mike sensei’s class and he had instructed everyone to silent read the short story he had just explained. You rested your aching forehead against your palms to support them while trying your best to read the instructed chapter. You could feel a fever coming, these were your usual symptoms before you got a fever. You sensed a light poke on your back and knew it was Mina calling you to say something, that is how you guys talked in between classes.

“hey are you alright? You seem a bit off” Mina whispered “you are usually more interactive in classes, is everything alright?”

“I am fine just a bit tiered I guess” you assured her.

She was not exactly convinced but she decided that she would save it for later. However,Mina was not the only one who had noticed this change, you had received concerned glances from a lot of your classmates today through out the classes. One person seemed to be particularly more concerned, Todoroki Shoto.

After English lessons the class was finally dismissed for lunch, much to your relief.

“I’ll join you guys at the table! I have some work to do before I have lunch” you told your friends

“Okay but hurry up and come soon!” Hagakure waved (or at least you assumed she did from the movement of her clothes)

“I will save a seat for you” Jirou offered as she followed the other to the cafeteria.

Once they left you let out a heavy sigh and started organizing your desk like you usually do before you join your friends for lunch in the school cafeteria.

“y/n-Chan are you feeling fine? Your eyes look glossy” You looked up to meet Ochaco’s concerned gaze.

You chuckled and yet again gave words of false reassurance to your friend, but even you knew you were pretty far off from fine right now.

“let’s go have lunch” you said after finishing organizing your desk for the next class after lunch. But as you stood up you managed to knock off your water bottle from the desk as you nearly fell over from the sudden dizziness and you had to grip the edge of your desk to keep from falling on your face.  

“y/n Chan!” Uraraka gasped and rushed to help you stabilize yourself but the moment she touched your arm her hands involuntarily jerked back. “Oh my gosh! You are burning up!”

You were still attempting to stabilize your blurry vision and push down the boughs of dizziness “I-I am fine” you managed to mumble out.

It felt more like an attempt to convince yourself than to reassure her. Most of the class had already dispersed to the cafeteria, save for Mina and Ochaco who had stayed back to accompany you to the cafeteria and Todoroki lingering by the class room door, you weren’t sure why he stayed back.

“y/n Chan you should go to the infirmary! We will inform Aizawa Sensei” Mina said

“Yes, I will also give you my notes if you need! Just please take some rest” Ochaco chimed in, worry lacing her words.

Todoroki was silently observing this from distance, he wanted to reach out and help you but he was unsure about how to approach you. Upon seeing how delirious your condition was he decided to put his hesitance aside and he walked over to your desk.

“I can escort you to the infirmary, if you want that is, I..” he paused as if to find the correct word “I would be glad to help you”

Mina and Ochaco shared a secretive look at this and almost giggled. “Oh no they are being too obvious! This is so embarrassing!!” you internally screamed in embarrassment as your cheeks heated up further at Todoroki’s words and blush bloomed across your features.

“Yes, that would be perfect Todoroki kun! Please assist her!” Mina exclaimed and Ochaco offered her words of agreement.

You could not let this happen, you did not want Todoroki Shoto, the boy you secretly admired so much, to see you like this. What if he thought that you were weak? You are all training to be heroes, right? weakness is not acceptable! …right? Your mind was swimming not only with uncertainties but also with dizziness. You looked up to meet Todoroki’s eyes, and you saw worry and tenderness in them, for you and your heart almost melted at that. But no, you needed to attend these classes they were important how could you miss them; you would be falling behind. You attempted to let go of the sides of the desk you had been clutching for support and straighten up “Todoroki Kun I- “your voice trailed off as black spots appeared in your vision and you saw Todoroki Shoto’s beautiful face growing hazy, the sounds and worried voices around you felt so distant as unconsciousness took over.

You felt firm hands holding you, as if someone was carrying you somewhere, was this Todoroki Shoto? You brain felt too fuzzy to understand. Your one arm was draped over the persons neck and your head was resting on their shoulder. You semi-consciously nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck finding the warmth there. You could feel the person tense up for a moment, at that you muttered an incoherent apology before fading back to unconsciousness again.  

The next time you woke up it was on one of the infirmary beds. You groaned at the sensation of the bright lights hitting your eyes and you turned to your side and curled up, pressing your palms to your eyes to protect them from the lights. The fever had induced a migraine which was your prime tormentor right now. When a migraine attack hit you, lights became your worst enemies as they made the migraine more unbearable. Recovery girl walked in moments later with some medicine from the other room for your fever. She helped you sit up and gave you the medicines with the gentle care of a grandmother. She had the lights dimed on your request and listened to your concerns.

“I am sorry darling but I can’t heal your migraine head ache, since it is not a physical injury, but I will give you some meds to help you with the fever. I suggest you take an off for a few days and get plenty of rest” You simply nodded as she got up to go write you a leave note. “and oh! The young man who brought you to the infirmary said he would drop by at dispersal before heading for the dorm, you can go back with him since you are still not stable enough, he should be here in a while” she informed you while leaving the room.

That caught your attention. "Todoroki brought me here? Did he indeed carry me to the infirmary?? And he was coming back?? To check on me???" You felt yourself turn into a blushing mess and you buried your face in your hands. “It’s nothing” you told yourself “He is probably just doing it out of the goodness of his heart not like he won’t do the same for anyone else, he was a good guy, it is probably nothing else, I should not get hopeful” Your train of thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. And you found Todoroki standing there.

“Hello y/n Chan, are you feeling better?”

“Yes somewhat…” you paused looking down “I-I am sorry for all the trouble...”

“please don’t apologize! It is no problem at all really” He assures you with a gentle smile. That smile that damned smile, it made you lose all focus.  Gosh if only you could kiss him--that thought itself startled you so much that you stood up from the bed with a jerk. The sudden movement made your head hurt and you winced in pain.

“what happened?” He seemed confused

“oh, it’s nothing!” you tried to laugh it off “we should, umm go, I think I would feel better in my room”

He motioned for you to lead the way. You both made your way towards the exit of the school building in silence.

“Did anything important happen in class today? Any new announcements?” You asked breaking the silence

He hesitated for a moment before saying “I made a separate list of home works for you and I umm also printed a copy of my notes for you…so umm…you don’t need to worry; you can find everything there”  

It made your heart soar, you were genuinely touched by this but you were also surprised “Todoroki kun thank you so much, I-I really don’t have words…thank you so much!!”

You saw his ears turn pink at that and a faint blush started forming on his cheeks, “it is alright, you don’t need to thank me” he said. You caught yourself staring at him and quickly averted your gaze.

As you stepped outside the school building, you groaned at the sun mercilessly shining. You hid your face in your hands again.

“Are you alright y/n Chan?” He asked concerned, lightly touching your arm.

“It’s just the sun…bright light worsens my migraine” The school corridor was cool and fairly dark hence it wasn’t that bad but stepping out in the sun was not the same.

“let’s go, I got this” you said without removing your hands.

You felt Shoto place his one hand around your shoulder, holding you steadily as he said “yes, let’s go”

He guided you towards the dorms and you kept shielding not just your eyes from the sun but also using it as an excuse to hide your blushing face.

You slumped a bit against him in relief was once you entered the dorms and the cool atmosphere greeted you. The hallway was thankfully empty much to your relief, if your friends saw you like this with Todoroki, there will be no end to their teasing.

Todoroki’s hand shifted from around your shoulder to the small of your back, ready to support you in case you stumble. The air between the two of you was tense, it felt like there were things which you both wanted to say but no one spoke. Your heart was hammering in your chest as he led you towards your dorm room. As you reached the dorm room, your hands were clammy as you tried to fish your keys out from one of your skirt pockets. He also seemed rather unusually clumsy while he was searching for the notes in his bag. He handed them over to you gently, and your fingers brushed. You were both alone in the hallway and it was steadily getting more awkward. As you were searching for things to say standing in the doorway, Todoroki broke the silence.

“y/n Chan, I have something to tell you...”

your heart sped up but you tried to appear calm and you casually leaned against the doorframe as you said “Yes, sure, go ahead”

“I…I am usually not very good with expressing feelings with words, but I want to tell you, today when I saw you like that it really got me worried, I know sickness and injuries are a part of life, especially with the nature of the work we are aiming for, it will probably be fairly common” he paused and took a deep inhale before continuing, still not meeting your eyes “What I am trying to say is, I want to be there for you, I know you are strong and you don’t need to be protected, but I want to fight by your side and always have your back, and if something gets you down I want to help you up…” he stops and sighs and shakes his head mumbling something to himself before finally meeting your gaze, “Y/n Chan I like you, a lot, I probably am not making sense right n—”

You cut him off by and cupping the side of his face in your palm and reaching up on your tip toes and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I like you too Shoto kun, a lot”

His face turns bright red at this and you giggle at that.

“really?” he asks surprised

“umhmm” you nod suppressing a smile as you step closer to him.

He tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear with an amused smile, as if he couldn't quite believe what you just said. He gently takes your hand in his. And presses a soft kiss on your knuckle and says “You should change and get some rest now, we can get back to this conversation later, I will be right back and bring you something to eat since you haven’t had lunch, okay?”

You nodded smiling at him. As he left and you closed your door you nearly jumped out of joy, your heart was about to burst. You washed up and quickly changed into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You were starting to feel slightly cold again which probably meant the fever was coming back but you were far too giddy with joy to care. You opened your door upon hearing a knock. Todoroki greeted you with a smile and placed a steaming bowl of Shoba on your table.

“I always have some Shoba in my fridge, so I got you some, I should go now…I am probably interrupting your rest, take care okay?”

You simply walked towards him and wrapped your arms around him in a hug wordlessly and nuzzled your face against his chest. That earned you a soft laugh from him, which you absolutely cherished, and he wrapped his arms around you too.

“Shoto kun?” he smiled at the sound of his name on your lips

“hmm?”

“Stay with me”

[aleximustdr4w]

Terminus - See you in hell

Available on AO3

Fandoms: Mötley Crüe

Characters: Nikki Sixx

Word count: 1141

Rating: M

Warnings: suicide; dealing with trauma; drug abuse (implied); drug-induced psychosis. || Reader discretion is advised. If you're particularly sensitive about this topic(s), please be very careful!! Don't proceed if you know it can cause you any distress. Your safety is more important ❣️

Summary: Nikki's delirious last moments before he gives in.

A/N: This is my first attempt writing ever, so be gentle pls 👉👈

Life is full of "what if"s. Well, my brain likes to torture itself and wonder what if Nikki couldn't take it any longer back in 1987. This fanfic is for sick people like me who like to give their faves a gut-wrenching destiny and be left with their heart heavy and their mind scarred after reading a piece of literature. I would also like to point out that I myself was lowkey having anxiety while writing and re-reading it, just so you know that I didn't take any joy at the thought of the possibility of this actually happening. Having this idea and putting it down to words was an act of twisted cathartic masochism that now I want to share with you because I'm actually proud of myself with how I was able to narrate it. With that being said, I'm grateful every day that Nikki is still with us, and finally, enjoy the car crash.

Special thanks to @allulaiho (who also asked to be tagged once I was finished <3) and @metallicasbian for test-reading this and for the support, it means the whole world to me 🖤

----------------------------🔪🔪🔪----------------------------

Nikki feels like a wild animal trapped in a cage. Demons are screaming in the back of his head, getting louder and louder. His mouth is dry, his breath is short, like if he was the one who's been shouting.

For the first time in a long time, he's scared for his life.

"YOU'RE BETTER OFF DEAD!"

"IT'S YOUR FAULT YOUR FATHER LEFT YOU!"

"WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE?"

"YOUR WHORE MOTHER WILL NEVER LOVE YOU!"

"YOU'RE WORTHLESS. JUST KILL YOURSELF ALREADY!"

The voices are driving him insane. Or is he hearing voices because he's already gone nuts?

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" Nikki wants to growl back, but when he parts his lips no sound comes out. Breathless, he turns around with a jerky movement of his hand, trying to push the demons away, ending up only moving the air around him.

He could swear they are there though. He is looking at them and he can hear them. They are real. A million little monsters made of shadows, mocking him, with long claws in their hands, sharp knives as their teeth, and eyes like little cigarette embers marching toward him, getting bigger and bigger, and their voices becoming more insistent and distorted. Their laughters are like nails on a chalkboard.

Nikki struggles to get away from them, he trips on something on the floor, losing his balance but managing to catch his own fall with his hands against the wall, in the corner of the dark room, the full moon's reflection from the big window being the only source of cold, white light.

He is facing a creature made of shadows, tall to the ceiling, in a humanoid shape, with big eyes glowing red and a maw filled with needles - and no, it's not an analogy. Its mouth is made of literal syringe needles - curved in a big sadistic smile. It's like the little terrifying monsters collided to make one bigger, even more terrifying monster.

"Where are you running?"

"We'll always be with you."

"You can't escape."

The creature leans closer to his face. Different voices come from the same mouth at the same time. Laughter that becomes screaming. It's not the first time he has visions during a bad trip, but fuck if this doesn't feel more real and vivid than any other time. He can feel the fucking shadow breathe on his face. A cold, dry breeze coming through the gates of hell that is its mouth. He can even vaguely make out its features. Is the thing really looking like a fucked-up version of himself or is he just making shit up now?

The sounds that pour out of that ghostly blob become unbearable. Nikki can hardly distinguish the two voices he is hearing that are arguing in the back of his head. It's his mother and father - wait, no. It's him arguing with his mother. Back when he stabbed himself to the bone in front of her. The two voices become more shrill until they are mixed together to form an untenable roar and a cluster of unintelligible piercing noises, making his ears ring.

In a fit of amok, Nikki tries reaching for something near him and his hands land on an half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel's on the floor (so THAT's what he tripped on before then) and throws it to the flickering fiend with all the rage and dread he has in his body. The flask flies across the room and violently smashes into a million pieces, staining the wall with its dark liquid (which, in that spectral light, looks like the blood of someone has sprayed all over). The beast - Nikki doesn't even how to call it anymore - doesn't even flinch, having the bottle going right through it.

What the fuck?

Nikki swallows, despite having the mouth still as dry as the Persian desert.

His heart is beating so fast his chest hurts. He feels his blood pumping through his jugular. His temples are thumping like the drums in a song for a ritual of human sacrifice. And Nikki feels like he's the offering to an unholy eldritch god.

He frantically reaches for the closet's handle and slams the door open to then slip inside as fast as possible and locks himself in.

At least he's safe there.

Nikki is hyperventilating, inhaling sharply, panicking and twitching, eyes wide open. The voices haven't stopped, but they seem quieter now. He catches a glimpse of his own face in the mirror. He looks like what he is: a madman that has seen the devil himself. Eyes bulging with dark circles under them so deep they reach half of his cheeks, pale cadaverous skin, and hair that looks like dead grass in a graveyard. He concentrates on his semi-open mouth that moves regularly along with his short breaths, then he directs his attention to his own eyes.

Nikki sees himself decaying in real time, becoming a corpse with no eyeballs in the sockets and the flesh completely rotten. The reflection reaches for him with its skeletal hand and a muffled, guttural, deafening shriek comes out of its gaping black hole of a mouth. Nikki immediately punches the mirror in a cry of terror, jolting back, breaking down in his spiral to madness and letting the shadows and voices claim his fragile sanity once again.

"You son of a bitch, where do you think you're going?!"

"Don't fucking hide, you fucking coward!"

"Where's your daddy now, Frankie?"

A sudden shiver runs down his spine that grips his whole body.

His heart is palpitating, the blood rushing to his ears makes him feel dizzy and see static, rivers of cold sweat running down his back as his trembling, bloody hands move on their own, searching for the shotgun.

"Do it."

It doesn't take him too long since it's out of its box. Nikki picks it up and looks at it, measuring its weight in the hands. It's already loaded. (Weird, he thinks. But he doesn't have the mind to ask too many questions right now.) If it's possible, his heart is racing even faster.

"Do it!"

He used to despise and make fun of suicidal people. He can't believe how the tables have turned.

After this, it's finally going to be over.

"DO IT!"

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!"

The voices are getting louder. The cold metal tastes like blood on his tongue.

Time to kiss your ass goodbye.

"JUST FUCKING DO IT!!"

Nikki closes his eyes tight shut. His whole body is shivering like he's been electric shocked. His thoughts are a blur of terror. He sees his mother, his father, his band mates. Tommy's laughter from the party they were just a few hours ago echoes in the back of his head.

Nikki takes a deep breath.

See you in hell.

He pulls the trigger.

[insanitysscribblings]

Reyna Writes: Monicker - A Claudeth One-shot

Guess who hasn’t gone to bed yet and stayed up to write this mess of fluff?

♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

Hope you enjoy! <3

~Reyna

"...And we'll station our troops here in this thicket. They'll be well-protected, so long as they stay out of sight."

"Mm-hm."

"I also thought that we could make use of this river here. If we control the bridge, then we have control of the battle."

"Mm-hm."

"...I was also considering wearing a bright, blonde wig and some make-up. I think I'd make a rather fetching distraction, don't you?"

"Mm-hm."

Ah-ha. Claude knew it--she wasn't listening to him at all.

"Teach?" he called, briefly grasping Byleth's shoulder to give her a bit of a shake. She gave a little start, her bright eyes widening a touch before her normal, neutral look returned.

"Hmm?" she hummed again, looking at him expectantly. Claude, for his part, playfully pouted at her.

"Is planning the strategy for our next battle so boring that you would rather daydream instead? How heartless of you, my friend."

Byleth gave him a slow blink, lowering her eyes back to the map.

"Sorry," she said quietly, crossing her arms over her stomach.

"Hey, I understand. It's late. Clearly, you'd rather be in bed."

"No...it isn't that."

"No? Then what ails you, my friend?"

A tiny sigh escaped Byleth, her brow puckering. Anyone who knew her five years ago compared to now would be astonished by this show of emotion, but Claude simply couldn't stop looking at her. The war had changed many things for him, setting setbacks in motion that gave him headaches when he paused to ponder them. But Byleth expressing her emotions made him almost think it was worth it, some days. So untouched by time as she was these past five years, it was honestly a relief to see this change, at least.

Her silence, while not uncommon, was troubling in this circumstance; the longer she kept quiet, the more Claude began to worry.

"Teach?" he prompted again when it seemed like she would keep her silence for the rest of the night. Her brows furrowed further, and her gaze flickered up to him. His stomach did that annoying swooping thing it did whenever she made eye contact, so he had to exert a little more effort to listen to her.

"...n't like it," she mumbled, glancing away swiftly once the words were out.

"Pardon?" Claude asked, leaning lower so he could hear her better. "Didn't catch that first part, Teach."

Byleth exhaled through her nose and closed her eyes, Claude growing more mystified the longer he watched her. Her cheeks were growing rosy...she wasn't suffering a fever, was she?

"I don't like it," she repeated herself. She opened her eyes to frown down at the map, and Claude's attention returned to it as well, perplexed. Had she been listening to him after all, keeping her criticisms to herself until now?

"Oh, you don't like the thicket plan? Or are you talking about the bridge? You couldn't possibly be shooting down my wig-and-make up plan, that's pure genius--"

"Claude."

"I jest, of course," Claude teased with a wink before he began to regard Byleth with curiosity once more. "But you'll have to be a little more specific, my friend. What don't you like?"

Byleth sighed again, this time through her mouth. A hand came up to twist a strand of her mint hair between her fingers. Claude idly wondered if her hair was as soft as it looked.

"I don't like it when you call me that."

Claude blinked. Well, there was something he hadn't expected her to say.

"What? 'My friend'?" He let a hand rest on his hip, the other tapping the forgotten map in front of them as he attempted to puzzle out the mystery beside him. "But we are friends, are we not?"

Byleth looked up at him from under her lashes, and it was his heart's turn to do the swooping thing.

"...We are," she confirmed a beat late, as if she needed a moment to ponder the validity of their friendship. "But still, I'd prefer you to call me something else."

"Oh? Gotten too used to 'Teach'?" Claude teased with a grin. He only referred to her that way out of habit; it had been years since she'd been his beloved professor. Well...'professor' was an outdated title, but 'beloved'...

Byleth shook her head before Claude could get flustered by his own thoughts like an idiot.

"Not that, either," she protested. Claude felt his brow furrow as he stared at her, trying to figure her out. If his usual titles would not do...

"...Byleth?" he tried, the name foreign on his tongue. This was probably the first time he'd ever called her by her given name. To her face, at least.

The redness in Byleth's face grew, but she still shook her head.

"Close, but no."

"...Well, hell. I must confess it--you have me stumped." Claude sat on the edge of the table in front of them, smiling politely while his eyes roamed curiously over Byleth, devouring and dissecting her every move. "What, pray tell, do you wish for me to call you...?"

It wasn't until the blush reached all the way under Byleth's bangs that she looked him square in the eye and answered.

"'My love'."

Claude nearly slipped onto the floor in shock.

He gawked at Byleth, feeling his own temperature rise. Was he dreaming right now? Was this a sweet dream induced by delirium? Was he lying crumpled on a battlefield, having conjured this moment from the deepest desires of his heart to have one final sweet moment before slipping away into the realm of the dead? Or...could this be?

Was this...real?

Though she looked plenty embarrassed, Byleth stared straight at him, her eyes clear and strong. She was always like that--facing difficult tasks head-on. It was one of the many things Claude admired about her.

Well, the least he could do was match her bravery, right?

Clearing his throat, he stood proper once again, moving a little closer to Byleth. She held her ground, never breaking gazes with him, even as he slid a hand up her neck to cup her cheek.

"...My love," Claude said, testing the words on his tongue. They sounded off, even to him, and Byleth's accompanying flat look told him as much.

'Like you mean it,' her eyes commanded him. Claude smiled a little, his head lowering far enough that their lips were barely a breath away.

"My love," he whispered, the words reverent as his thumb stroked her cheek. And oh, the most brilliant smiled graced her lips at the words, her hand reaching up to cup his own. "My love," he crooned once more before he pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was ill-advised; there was a reason Claude had been keeping a careful distance from Byleth ever since she returned. There were things he had to do, and to do them, he would have to leave Fodlan as soon as the war was over, if not sooner. He couldn't afford to be in love right now.

But, judging from the way his heart thudded in his chest as Byleth gripped his shirt and pulled him closer, Claude had to admit defeat. How was he supposed to hang onto this accursed heart when it was fighting so hard to jump right into Byleth's hands?

They parted to breathe, and Claude sighed out the regrets of his pragmatic side. This was so very, very stupid.

But seeing Byleth smile at him so radiantly made him want to be the King of Fools, with how deliriously happy he was right now.

"Well...would you like it if I started calling you 'my love' from now on?"

Byleth paused to think about it.

"It would probably be best if you limited it to when we're alone." Her expression went flat again. "No need to feed the wolves."

Ah, yes--the former Golden Deer house. They were insatiable, and just about salivated every time Claude and Byleth so much as looked at each other. Of course, they could never know how right they were, or Claude would never hear the end of it.

"You're right, of course." Claude smiled down at her, tucking her hair behind her ear. Oh, look at that--it was as soft as it looked. "Only in private, then." That seemed to please Byleth, so Claude chose to tease her more.

"And what shall my new nickname be?" he wondered, raising a challenging eyebrow. He watched, entertained, as Byleth pursed her lips in thought before she raised her hands, raking them through his hair. Claude hummed in content, but then she paused, her thumbs poking him from the sides of his head. Claude noticed in the mirror that hung behind Byleth that her fingers were splayed, giving him makeshift antlers.

"Deer," she said with such a straight face that Claude couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh from his soul.

[rough-and-whump]

RWT: Drugged Edition

I know I did a RWT: Spoken Word on drugged scenarios, but I was so inspired by a recent post from @thewhumpster that I needed to write a whole other collection of whumpy thoughts.

This post is informed by my own experience with drugs (weed, alcohol, painkillers), my research as an aspiring psychonaut, and then the rest is just whumpy fluff because why not?

[There’s a bit of an “Author’s Note” about drugs at the bottom - but for now - to the whump!]

Psychedelics/Hallucinogens

A whumpee who is very experienced in psychedelics/hallucinogens/harder drugs is dosed with something he knows is bad news. He’s tried it once before, cautiously and with a lot of preparation, but it was still horrible and he never felt tempted to try it again. He’s been dosed with the equivalent of a heroic dose, and the come up is just starting - he knows panicking will make it worse, but he’s so fucking terrified. (might do a write up of this with the Sarge’s surprisingly delinquent bf, Dai)

A caretaker - who appears to the team to be a straight-and-narrow type - is thrown into the spotlight when the whumpee comes back having just been dosed with their first psychedelic. The whumpee is already falling to anxiety and spiraling into a bad trip. No one knows what to do and the tension in the room is making it worse. The caretaker breaks their silence, carries the whumpee into a small room, cozies it up and proceeds to trip sit of the fucking year. They reassure the whumpee, make them comfortable, talk about whatever (idk yet what a shroom convo sounds like), etc. They manage to get the whumpee calm, keep them reassured, etc. Finally, the whumpee falls asleep and the caretaker can leave them to sleep - with every intention of coming back in just a second - so they leave the room. Once the door closes behind them, they sink to the floor, shaking and breaking down. Finally letting themselves express the fear and terror they felt the entire time, but forced down so that they wouldn’t trigger a bad trip for the whumpee.

A whumpee’s terror at what’s actually fairly mundane things, amplified by a strong hallucinogen that induces paranoia and fear.

A heavily drugged whumpee is sent out - unarmored and unarmed - into the middle of some sort of active battlefield. They’re delirious, starved, sleep deprived, and barely able to walk. Visuals, distortions and complete removal of a sense of reality overwhelm them. Can the whumper feel what’s going on? Are they afraid? What do you think they see? What does their side of the fight do? Are they even on a side in this fight?

Painkillers

Our whumpee is a high-powered businesswoman. Some sort of executive, she’s the sort of woman who commands a room the second her high-heels meet the marble flooring. But she’s not only addicted to painkillers, she can’t function without them. Her doctor has told her she’ll die of liver failure before she’s 50 if she keeps going the way she is. She has trouble sleeping, struggles with heart palpitations, and can’t even remember what it’s like not on the pills. But she craves the light-headed disorientation that comes with an excessive dose. She needs it. Can’t deal with all these people, all the dresses, all the fucking high heels, without them. 

A poor naive cinnamon roll whumpee accidentally (maybe a mislabeled bottle, or they grabbed a handful and went for it out of desperation) takes too many painkillers. As they start to feel loopy, they freak out. It’s like they can feel their heart pounding, they feel like their eyes are wigging out, and they don’t know if they’re walking straight. 

Fictional/Fantasy Drugs

[Fictional] A drug enhances Powers, and a poor whumpee has been injected. Do they suffer from horrible side-effects as their Powers increase? Are the side effects from their Power or the drug? Do they struggle to control their powers and end up doing something they regret? Or making a costly mistake?

[Fantasy] A friend in the party is a lycan - but it’s a secret, and no one knows. All they know is she brews a special tea and enjoys it nightly, and drinks it nearly constantly some days (DC 12 Investigation reveals those are days surrounding the full moon). A curious little rascal in the party sneaks some of the tea - and discovers it has horrible consequences for non-lycans. How does the party react?

[Fictional] In a sci-fi world, there’s a rare drug that’s actually a sort of self-contained virus. A naive rookie (here comes #FuturePD again) tries to infiltrate a local dealer’s circle and gets caught. He’s injected with the drug and he’s entirely unfamiliar with how to navigate it - what’s his reaction? What are the sensations? Is he suggestable irl? Is he locked in his own mind with his body free to control?

Bonus Scenarios!

Bonus to the Psychedelics/Hallucinogens 2: The team confronts the caretaker after check up number 3 on the sleeping whumpee. They demand to know why/how the caretaker knows so much about this (maybe they’re suspicious that the caretaker might’ve been working in league with the whumper?). The caretaker admits that they use psychedelics regularly, including microdosing, which is the only way they could keep up with the team. Considering caretaker is their key tactician, this surprises the group - they’ve always been the “smart one”. The caretaker is afraid of the team’s reactions, considering they think that everyone else is straight and narrow types. 

Bonus to Psychedelics/Hallucinogens 2: The Caretaker reveals to the team later that they were raised to think using anything “additional” was not only a weakness but a sin. The drugs Caretaker uses now are almost a sign of their progress in breaking out of the “conditioning” their family put them through growing up.

[Author’s Note time: I am getting all preachy and all political. If that’s not your jam, gtfo quick. Don’t @ me, bruh. If that be your jam, tho, proceed with caution and remind yourself that I’m some idiot on Tumblr and not a fuckin’ doctor. 

Continued under the break.] 

So, I do drugs. Weed, namely, but I do intend to trip on shrooms soon.

Growing up, I never even knew where to get weed. Since legalization I’ve been using it more and more. I’ve found many benefits from it and it’s changed how I think about drugs.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that caffeine, tobacco, and alcohol are all drugs. Sometimes it’s easy to accept side-effects from drugs we can buy from the pharmacy. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that drugs like weed, LSD, shrooms, and others have legitimate and actual medical use.

That said, it’s also easy to wave a magic wand or put on green glasses and think “hey, it’s a medicine, so I can use it for anything”.

There’s a difference between using a drug as recreation or medication and abusing it to the point of dependency.

I used to pop 4 platinum robax in the parking lot before I dragged myself into the office (this was years ago now) and have 4-12 more throughout the day. Because the mindless disorientation made it easier to deal with the shit I was seeing at work and the abuse my bosses doled out. I continued this for 3 months. 

I would almost always be dizzy. It became something like my goal to always be somewhat “off”. Because then at least I wasn’t confronting my reality.

That didn’t work out well for me. I had to go on medical leave within 6 months. I was a wreck physically for about a year, and it’s only recently that I feel like I’ve finally gotten all that robax out of my system.

Getting out of that shithole, getting psychological help, and getting a diagnosis for Generalized Anxiety Disorder did help. And now, after two years of pharmaceutical SSRIs and therapy, I’m beginning to transition away from pharmaceutical SSRIs. I don’t want to have to take drugs my whole life, but if I must, I’d rather take CBD oil made out of a plant and MCT oil than something synthesized in a lab that has a marked chance of giving me liver failure, increased risk of heart disease, etc.

Seeking psychological help is healthy - it doesn’t mean you’re “weak” or you’re “crazy” or anything like that. It just means you need some help from a professional life-problem solver. Who happens to know how to talk you in circles enough that your own brain starts finally listening to you and not your insecurities and demons.

Anyways. That’s it for Rough being a pontificating bitch. I have whump to do.

Be safe, do drugs, practice harm reduction.

[homo-sapiens-agenda]

Crushes

Hello, my lovelies!!

I am so terribly sorry for being inactive for so long, my dears! College is really kicking my ass right now, but I’m definitely getting into the swing of things, so hopefully I will be able to post on a semi-regular basis again. Anyway, now to the main point of my post.

Today, I wanted to talk about (as the title states) crushes. Something about having a crush seems to entice a pretty universal physiological and psychological response. More often than not, even if we don’t really notice it, when you start developing feelings for someone, you start moving closer to them physically when you can. Not in a creepy way or anything; you just try to be close to them. Also, your mind starts to do weird, sometimes horribly anxiety-inducing things. It’s one of the best worst feelings in the world. You start to think about all the good things about them and in what ways it would work between you two. Oftentimes, though, for most of us, there’s an anxiety that fits in and we start to feel nervous and pick on every single thing we do around them. We don’t always feel like we’re in control of what we’re doing or thinking when we’re around our crushes, and we start to feel that weird jittery feeling. I know that a lot of my friends, myself included, when we start to have crushes, we ask each other to find out if the crushes like us back. Or, we ask our friends to help us find a good way to ask them (nonchalantly, of course) if they’d like to go out sometime, one on one. No matter what, though, we often feel that jittery fight or flight feeling and we start to get that stupidly wonderful feeling in our chests that let us know that this is something that is making us happy. Anxious in the best way possible. 

As a lot of you can probably tell, I write about things that are on my mind most of the time. Right now I am dealing with a crush situation, and I asked my friend to help me figure out the best way to go about it. He agreed, and as he’s helping me figure out what to do and giving me all this information, my brain won’t stop asking, “What if he’s just lying to you to make you feel better?” Another part of my brain is saying, “He knows this is serious; he wouldn’t do that.” It’s a constant battle. Just earlier tonight, I hung out with my friend group here (one of which is my crush) and as I was talking to my friend after everyone had left. I had told them that I didn’t think my crush was that into me, and they just stared at me in disbelief. They asked me why I said that and I just shrugged, saying I didn’t feel like we were vibing any more than we usually do, and that’s when they said, “You’re only saying this because you can’t see the situation from an outside perspective, like me.” They went on to ask if I saw my crush staring at me, but I told them the only time I knew he stared at me was when we were having a baby argument over something stupid. They kind of laughed at my response and just said, “He was staring at you most of the time. If he wasn’t staring at you, it’s because you were staring at him. It was almost like watching a movie.” That’s when I started feeling incredibly jittery and I felt my heart rate elevate a little. It hasn’t quite gone back down and it’s been about four hours.

Now, my point is, I don’t know what’s going to happen next, and I know that my brain is going to be against me on this because I’ve trained myself to expect the worst out of every situation. But I’ve chosen to train myself to focus on the positives. I’m allowing myself to sit in this jittery, deliriously-happy-over-stupid feeling. I’m allowing myself to feel that anxiety in the best and worst ways possible, and I’m forcing myself to think three positive thoughts for every negative thought that pops in my mind. My point is, my lovelies, that I want you all to realize that a crush is just that: crushing. Whether it’s good or bad, it’s crushing, and it’s an experience that we all need to just allow ourselves to feel and allow to overwhelm us because it’s one of the sweet pains in life that always seems to hurt so good.

Please just enjoy your lives, my lovelies. And if you have a crush, let that jittery, awkward, fluttery anxiety take over you and keep you in that amazingly happy state, even if only for a day. 

Thank you so, so much, and I love you all. Goodnight, sweet dreams, and painfully sweet crushes to all of you, my lovelies!!

[goffilolo]

Demise of Midoriya Izuku Part 8

God this was a long chapter. I hope you will enjoy it. you can read the full fanfic on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/776826

I’m currently on a christmas break, however i have a very long essay to write so im not sure if ill be able to write/draw any more demise!au stuff.

Izuku was tired.

It was nothing new per se, as for the last month the teenager has become very well acquainted with the feeling of exhaustion as a side effect of his medication. “It’s normal” said Shin during their last appointment “Your brain is still going through an adjustment period, and insomnia is a rather common side effect of a lot of antidepressants”. So yeah, it was all good.

Except it wasn’t.

Given that no one was willing to rid the boy of his sleepless turmoil, Izuku decided to take the matters into his own hands. Because fuck Shin. In the hindsight, all of this was a very bad idea.

It all started during one of his usual conversations with Mrs. Todoroki, only this time they were joined by her daughter Fuyumi. The first observation Izuku made upon her entrance, was that this young woman was almost a splitting image of Mrs. Todoroki, save for the hot red streaks in her hair, undoubtedly inherited from her asshole father. After talking to her for a bit, Izuku was quite pleased to learn that she has not in fact inherited her father’s god tier assholism. Izuku has never met the man, he doesn’t need to, at least not yet.

After brief introductions they have resumed to their previous conversation.

“So how did meeting with piece of shit go?” asked Mrs. Todoroki, her question quickly followed by Fuyumi’s scandalised expression at hearing her mother use such foul language.

“Meh, it was your typical melodrama bullshit. Some shouting and insults were thrown around, well mostly by me, and crying” replied Izuku in a rather nonchalant fashion, completely disregarding Fuyumi’s shock and confusion.

The word got round quickly in this ward, meaning that most of the patients and staff were in on Izuku’s personal drama and so they all came to a silent agreement to refer to Bakugou as ‘piece of shit’ and never call him by his actual name. And so over time Bakugou became the psychiatric ward’s very own Voldemort. But Fuyumi doesn’t know that yet, bless her soul.

“You actually cried?”

“Oh no, not me, piece of shit did. Honestly you should’ve been there, Shin was there for emotional support and kept staring daggers at him, it was hilarious” sneered the boy upon remembering the Bakugou shitshow with some sort of twisted fondness. His enthusiasm was however quickly disrupted by a long, loud yawn coming the boy’s mouth.

“Didn’t get a good night’s sleep?” asked Fuyumi.

“More like a good month’s sleep” snapped Izuku, rubbing his temples as much as the bandage around his head allowed him to. “And that bitch Shin won’t prescribe me anything cause it would clash with my antidepressants” scoffed the boy.

“You know that Dr. Iyashi cares about your wellbeing and wouldn’t want to give you anything with nasty side-effects” said Mrs. Todoroki as she stroked Izuku’s shoulders in a gentle, matherly manner.

“Wait a minute” chimed in Fuyumi “Prescription won’t do, but what about over the counter stuff? There must be some sleep relief that you could take”.

“Oh, really?” said Izuku, with a hint of amusement and sarcasm “What are gonna do? Smuggle some Quil into the hospital for me?”

The determined  smile on Fuyumi’s face told Izuku that indeed, she would. ‘Well then’ thought Izuku ‘This is going to be fun’.

The next day Izuku has found two bottles being dropped onto his lap, while the boy was busy filling up his notebook with sketches of Endeavour being eaten alive by crocodiles. If you looked closely enough you’d also notice that some of them contained an already half eaten Bakugou.

He raised his brow at the bottles, then looked up to see Fuyumi looking very smug.

“I got the Quil” she said, very proud of herself.

“I can see that” replied Izuku, looking back and forth between the two bottles “Why two?” he asked, confusion and curiosity seeping into his voice.

“I forgot whether you needed DayQuil or NyQuil so I got you both!”

Looking at very pleased Fuyumi, Izuku didn’t have it in him to grace the statement with a proper reply that wouldn’t point out the stupidity and irresponsibility of casually getting two substances that are meant to do the exact opposite, which then lead to a train thought of ‘what if you mix them?’.

“Thank you Fuyumi-neesan!”

And thus Izuku was left alone in his hospital room, the notebook long forgotten, staring at the content of the two bottles, as the nerdy part of his brain deciding to wake up and cause drama. ‘If you mix DayQuil and NyQuil, you end up with what, ForeverQuil? Or given that the substances are meant to do the opposite would they cancel each other out and have no effect when consumed simultaneously? No, that doesn’t seem right, it’s more likely that they would disturb a sleeping pattern, but given that mine is already fucked, how would I be able to tell...’

“SHIT, I’m mumbling again!”

So many questions that demand to be answered, a hypothesis that needs a confirmation and a curiosity waiting around the corner, ready to kill the metaphorical cat.

“Ugh, fuck it” said Izuku as he gulped down both substances in one go.

That’s when everything went to shit.

At first he didn’t feel any different. He spent a good portion of time looking out of the window, admiring the weather - it’s almost May so the days were getting brighter, warmer - waiting for something, anything to happen.

Things got a bit blurry after a while. Izuku could feel his BRAIN getting blurry, which he didn’t even know was possible. But apparently losing contact with reality does things to you.

As Izuku slowly regained clarity, the first thing he noticed was the sluggish feeling and the pounding in his head, reminding him of the first time he woke up in this god forsaken loony bin.

The second thing he noticed was the darkness. At first, he thought that one of the nurses has closed the curtains while he was out of it, but no, the curtains were open, and upon closer inspection Izuku came to realisation that it was in fact, night time. Which was strange...to say the least, since it was still sunny just a few seconds ago. ‘Is this some sort of a quirk? Probably not.’ he thought, which meant there was only one option left.

“FUCKIN HELL I TRAVELLED THROUGH TIME!”

His shout was followed by a tired groan, which definitely did not belong to him.

“Dr. Iyashi, he’s at it again!” shouted Mrs. Todoroki.

Wait a minute, Mrs. Todoroki? When did she get here?

Izuku whipped his head to the side, where the woman was sitting in a chair by his bedside, with Shin standing in the doorway, looking down at a clipboard.

“What the-shit did you get in here?” asked Izuku, his brain still sluggish and disoriented about the whole situation.

Shin chooses that moment to walk into the room “Do you remember what happened?” he asked.

“No? I was sitting here and it was day and suddenly it’s night, so obviously it was Quil induced time travel” said Izuku, as his lagging brain allowed for all the ridiculous bullshit to spill out of his mouth.

Shin does not look impressed.

“You absolute, fucking idiot!” shouted the doctor “Why in the world would you mix DayQuil and NyQuil together? Are you completely insane? What did you think would happen?!”

“First of all, if I was sane I wouldn’t even be here. Second of all, who told you about my Quil?” asked the boy, his eyes suddenly focused, full of suspicion.

At that moment Fuyumi poked her head through the entrance and waved at Izuku as she made her way through the room and stood by her mother’s side.

“Sorry, I had to tell him since it’s all my fault you went delirious in the first place” she said, her face portraying nothing but guilt.

“It was very irresponsible of you!” said the doctor, his gaze switching between Izuku and Fuyumi “Not only did you take medication against a doctor’s recommendation, you even roped others into smuggling unauthorised substance into the hospital…”

And Shin went into the ‘ranting dad’ mode. It was a perfect time to zone out.

While the doctor was busy lecturing everyone about the dangers of overdosing and mixing medications, Izuku picked up the discarded notebook in hopes of finishing that sketch of Endeavour being devoured by crocodiles. His drawing skills were improving, that’s for sure. Maybe once he’s finished he’d show it to Mrs. Todoroki.

‘I think she would like that’ thought Izuku.

Except when he opened his notebook on the most recent page, instead of Endeavour massacre, Izuku was met with lines upon lines of text, written in what can only be described as very rushed and frenzied handwriting, which undeniably belonged to Izuku. The pages were also adorned with big bold letters at the top stating ‘ENDEAVOUR THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL’.

‘When did I write that?!’ Izuku was rather astonished as he started to skim through his writing and came to a conclusion that what he was reading was in fact a conspiracy theory. A very detailed one at that.

“Izuku, are you listening?” asked the doctor.

“No” he replied absentmindedly.

But the writing in his notebook and the overall situation left Izuku very confused. The moonlight illuminated parts of the room, a reminder of a mysterious time slip, which apparently was not quil induced time travel. Izuku needed the answers, and he needed them NOW.

“Can anyone tell me what happened?”

His question was met with a long, awkward silence, as the other individuals in the room looked at one another, not knowing what to say.

“Alright…” Mrs. Todoroki broke the silence “...where do we start?”

………………………………………………………………………………

Iyashi Shin was finally having his well deserved lunch break. After starting his shift at 6 am, he felt exhausted and he was barely halfway through. And so Shin planned to have a short nap during his break to recharge. ‘What am I, an old man?’ he thought to himself ‘Probably, at least I’m on a good way to becoming one. Not getting any younger either, I’m turning forty next year.’

‘Ugh, this calls for a mid-life crisis nap’ he thought while lying on the couch in his office, being slowly lulled to sleep by the ticking of the clock.

Suddenly Shin was awakened by an obnoxiously loud laugh coming from the corridor. He was annoyed at having his nap interrupted, but the annoyance was outweighed by sheer curiosity, as one does not get a lot of laughing in this part of the hospital.

The doctor soon  got up and opened the door he was once again met with the obnoxious laugh, only this time louder as it came from a man who was currently walking out of Izuku’s room.

“Haha...it was nice talking to you Midoriya. I’m glad you’re in a good mood” called out the man “I’ll be back tomorrow to check your homework!”

‘Homework? Ah, it must be Izuku’s teacher’ thought Shin with a bit of suspicion as he remembered his patient talking about his homeroom teacher in a … less than friendly manner.

‘So why would the laugh? I thought Izuku hated the guy.’

As the teacher walked away from Izuku’s room he bumped into Shin, who was standing in the middle of the corridor, lost in thought.

“Ah, Dr. Iyashi didn’t see you there!” exclaimed the teacher. He sure was in a good mood, a stark contrast to his usual visits.

“Good afternoon, how was your visit?” asked Shin, trying to squeeze out some details out of the man.

The teacher laughed again trying to get a hold of himself “Oh it was great, I haven’t laughed so much in ages. Whatever meds you put him on, they’re doing god’s work!”

“Really? What did Izuku say?”

“You know Bakugou-kun, right?”

“Of course, the one responsible for the shitstorm that is Izuku’s depression” stated the doctor as a matter of fact.

The teacher stilled his movement, unprepared for the blatant statement. Trying to dissolved the tension, he continued “Yeah, him. Anyways, Midoriya was asking about him and he seemed stuck on on his name so he said…” he stopped for a bit, trying to mimic his student’s voice and speaking manner “ ‘you know the angry, shouty one, what was his name...Fuckugou?’ and I just lost it right there! Buahaha!” sneered the teacher, waiting for Shin to have a similar reaction.

And boy was he not disappointed.

“Fuckugou!” exclaimed Shin “That’s a good one, gotta tell it to the nurses, it will spread like wildfire!”

………………………………………………………………………………

“Fuckugou?” asked Izuku.

“Fuckugou” confirmed Shin.

“That...is funny as hell, but it doesn’t really sound like me.”

“I know, which is why I was concerned. Mind you I still needed my nap, so I asked Mrs. Todoroki to keep an eye on you in the meanwhile” explained the doctor as both him and Izuku turned their heads in the direction of the white haired woman.

………………………………………………………………………………

Mrs. Todoroki was having a good day. And by good she meant boring. In all honesty there’s only so much a person can do in this place before being driven further into insanity. She was currently sitting in the common room in the company of her daughter who has dropped in earlier to give Izuku the sleeping medication they talked about yesterday.

Which is why she was more than a little surprised when Dr. Iyashi approached her, asking to keep an eye on Izuku, who right now should be sleeping like a baby from the medication.

Nevertheless she agreed, as the doctor seemed deeply concerned about the boy who has managed to settle himself nice and cosy in a particular place in her heart; reserved exclusively for her children. ‘Well then’ thought the woman as she came to a realisation ‘Looks like I now have five children.’

Just as Mrs. Todoroki considered brushing off Dr. Iyashi’s concerns, her train of thought was disrupted by a maniacal laugh that belonged to no other than Izuku himself.

The teenager in question wheeled himself into the common room at a speed that should not be achievable for a wheelchair, his hair wilder than usual, eyes wide open, pupils dilated. The boy’s face was devoid of any sanity.

“HOLY SHIT MRS. TODOROKI!” he screamed.

“Are you high?” she asked, full of disbelief at the state the boy was in.

“I got the answers” announced Izuku, completely disregarding the woman’s question.

“What answers?”

“All the answers! To everything! I CAN FEEL THE UNIVERSE EXPANDING IN MY BONES!” shouted Izuku, further disturbing and scaring other occupants of the room.

‘Oh, is this why Dr. Iyashi was concerned? What do I do with him?’

“Right…” said Mrs. Todoroki, hoping to distract the boy for a bit “...why don’t you sit with me and Fuyumi and tell us all the answers? Just remember to keep your voice down” she added in her motherly tone.

Although Izuku seemed quite out of contact with reality, he did as he was told. After wheeling himself next to Fuyumi he whipped out one of his notebooks seemingly out of nowhere and began to speak.

“From the evolutionary standpoint my existence is a liability to human advancement. Every year the number of people born quirkless decreases as our gener are to be replaced with the superior ones of those with quirks. I’m going extinct! Both my parents have quirks, yet I was born without one, I’m an anomaly I SHOULD CEASE TO EXIST!” screeched Izuku as he seemed to be having an existential crisis that was accompanied by what he thought were diagrams from his notebook, which to everyone besides him looked like a bunch of gibberish and nonsense.

“WHY DO I EXIST?” screamed the boy in agony as once again he began to wheel himself at an impossible speed out of the room.

The Todoroki women were left stunned, looking at one another and then back at the spot previously occupied by the insane teenager.

“What did you give him?” asked the mother.

“The Quil”

“What Quil?”

“All the Quil.”

“Go and get Dr. Iyashi. I’ll stay here in case Izuku comes back” she said while rubbing her temples out of frustration.

………………………………………………………………………………

“Oh, fuck, what happened after that?” asked Izuku, no longer in disbelief, but amusement. While he had no recollection of any of this happening he felt like he was listening to a rundown of an episode from ‘it’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia’.

He seemed to be the only one enjoying himself though. The adults in the room on the other hand were very much tired of his shit after having to deal with Quil induced Izuku the whole day.

“You wheeled yourself around the ward while screaming ‘I challenged God to a knife fight’. What actually happened was you stole a scalpel from a surgeon, don’t know how, and started stabbing one of the All Might sketches in your notebook” relayed Mrs. Todoroki in the most flat and no-bullshit tone she could manage.

“Haha, yeah that sounds like me!”

“Now then…” announced Shin as he stood up addressing everyone at once“...it’s been a long day for everyone. Mrs. Todoroki please go back to your room for today. Ms. Fuyumi, thank you for everything. I will see you again. Izuku, you little shit, we’re going to have a talk.”

As the two women got up and left the room, Izuku was left alone with his psychiatrist. While he knew that Shin was only concerned about his well being he didn’t look forward to being nagged by the doctor again.

Instead of talking, Shin just ripped of a piece of paper from his clipboard and handed it to Izuku without any explanation.

“Any what is this?” asked Izuku, eyeing the piece of paper suspiciously.

“ A prescription for Ramelteon” says Shin “It’s most commonly used as antidepressant, but it also works as a sleeping drug. It’s also one of very few that does not lead to a dependence. Take this to the dispensary now, they will sort everything out and you will be getting your dose from tomorrow evening onwards.”

“I know I was very reluctant to give you anything besides antidepressants…” he continues “...but I’d rather do this than have you going batshit crazy with whatever alternatives you’re willing to try. Please be careful in the future Izuku, I mean it” he finishes with a warning tone.

“Can’t promise anything” said Izuku, his voice full of mischief.

“In that case I can’t promise that I won’t smack you on the head next time you pull of shit like this” replied the doctor, as he walked out of his patient’s room, hiding his smile behind the clipboard.

[fyrapartnersearch]

ᴋᴀɴɴsᴛ ᴅᴜ ᴅɪᴇ ᴇɴɢᴇʟ sᴇʜɴ

hello, hello! i’m flea, and i’m back again looking for m// stories. i’m really hoping to find long-term partners who’d be interested in playing with some specific oc’s i have:

1) vii/seven, a 29 year old german nephilim hybrid. he was discovered and raised by a shady anti-magic/monster agency, who trained him in their ways and molded him into a very promising hunter/solider. unfortunately, vii was badly maimed on what was supposed to be another routine mission, and his forearm had to be amputated from the elbow down. the agency decided he’d never go on another mission and assigned him to the task of studying and transcribing grimoires and ancient tomes. his research has led to some groundbreaking discoveries and inventions, including a magic-nullifying collar, which gave the agency much, much more control over prey and prisoners. he’ll never be the hunter they’d hoped for, however his work is helping to better prepare future hunters.

being a nephilim hybrid, vii possesses the size and key features associated with fallen angels. he’s 6’ 7” and winged, and has the ability to understand/speak any language ever known to man, which is why the agency tasked him with transcribing ancient books. he can also heal minor wounds by transferring wound to himself. if he’s unable to do so (if the wound is too severe), he can transfer the PAIN to his own body, to endure the suffering for the wounded individual. vii also has empathetic abilities — he can feel the emotions of another person (provided they’re touching) and force his own emotions onto those who are too weak to resist his psychic presence. vii’s theme is healing.

he can easily be paired with a rookie hunter, or maybe he’s asked to help interrogate a prisoner that’s brought in? maybe one breaks out and they run into vii? lots of possibilities!

2) erryk kordayne, a 37 year old werewolf and lord of the blackwood and warden of the northern territories. erryk’s intended for a fantasy-medieval, game of thrones like story. when he was 29, he and his hunting party was attacked by a werewolf, and his men died protecting him. they wounded the werewolf enough that erryk was able to finish the beast, though only barely. he was badly mauled and infected by the curse, and had his first transformation within the hour. he survived the change and was found the next day, fevered and delirious. erryk lost an eye in the attack and while recovering, he had the werewolf skinned so he could wear its fur as a cape.

in this world, werewolves aren’t trigger by the light of the moon — they’re triggered by emotions. their curse makes them extremely irritable and moody, and in an effort to control it, erryk started brewing the highly illegal wolfsbane in secret. he’s essentially poisoning the beast within, but it’s also hurting erryk. he sometimes overdoses himself and falls ill for weeks at a time.

since the mauling, his people have whispered behind his back. they say he’s a werewolf, and whereas he once answered requests to handle pure silver and walk in the moonlight (false legends that are still very much alive), he’s now grown tired of their suspicion — which they are very right to believe in! those who openly gossip and spread rumors are immediately jailed for slander/inducing a panic.

so far, he’s managed to keep his curse under control, but i’d really love for someone to find out his secret!

okay, so about me! i’m 26, located on central standard. i’m married and work monday-friday, so i definitely have priorities that come before writing. i’m very patient and i’m okay with waiting days to weeks for a reply, i just ask that you can be patient with me too! i enjoy writing dark, gritty, steamy scenes, so i’m looking for partners who are 18+ pls. your limits = my limits! my only hard no’s though are y’know what most people would expect: no scat, no harming kids. besides that, i’ll write most anything! i’m also a VERY chatty person, so i’d LOVE to talk over google hangouts! it’ll make discussion/plotting easier. i’m looking for someone who can help me move the story. i can give anywhere between 300-2400 words — it all depends on what’s happening and what i have to respond to.

if either of my two guys tickle your fancy, shoot me an email and let me know what you’ve got in mind! my email: helloimflea@gmail.com

AND IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR, THANKS FOR READING~

[bucketofchum]

So today’s been a long day. I guess I owe it to anyone who has been following my nebulous updates throughout the day (and night) if you were awake then to see the beginnings of my struggle day hah). I guess I’ll start from last night. (Warning: really fucking long post under cut)

I was already feeling faint and weak by 6:30pm or so yesterday. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, which is bad, I know because I’m supposed to sleep a little more than normal due to the concussion. I slept about 5 hours the precious night. I thought I’d probably crash soon since I didn’t think it was likely that I’d be able to stay awake much longer. But I wanted to get some work done too that night and I had to shower too. Took my shower – that woke me up a bit, thankfully. I worked for a few hours and finished up a document, which, although it wasn’t much work, at least I got something done for this other job so I wouldn’t feel as bad. Around 10pm I started fading again. I crashed at around 10:30pm finally, hoping to get a solid night of sleep so I’d have a productive day of work tomorrow morning. I had a lot of writing to get done.

Instead, I had…a nightmare? Of sorts? It started out as kind of a normal every day kind of dream. I was messaging a friend here on tumblr as we usually do, and they sent me a gif of them eating a pizza – cuz if I went to sleep, then they’d eat pizza. Or something. So I was glad to see them enjoying their pizza. I don’t hear from them again for 3 hours, and it turns out the pizza was weed infused, haha. So now they’re pretty high and having a good time. I’m really happy for them. It turns out they’re going to attend graduate school where I went to undergrad, which is awesome – I was very excited to have them share a school experience with me ahah. But then I don’t hear from them for a little while longer and then get this short dense message from them that’s hard to read, but it seems serious. It’s about 3 sentences long, but it has no punctuation or capitalisation so it’s really hard to focus and see what it says. I get the gist of the first part “this is really hard for me to say…” and then I think it goes into them talking about how they have come to the difficult decision of annulling our friendship. ….I can…hardly believe it. I try really hard to read exactly what the words are saying to better understand what I did wrong, but I can’t focus – I’m dizzy and the words keep blurring together. I can only gather that I’m too unpredictable and not forthcoming or something along those lines – but it’s so hard to read.

Then I wake up from the anxiety attack induced by this. It’s a little past midnight.

I needed to confirm that the dream wasn’t true, so bleary eyed (I had only slept about 1.5 hours, but my heart was thudding out of my chest from anxiety), I turn to my phone. No messages from them. Hm. There’s also a chance they aren’t awake but idk. So I message them about the dream hoping for confirmation that the dream wasn’t real. They are awake. But the confirmation I was hoping for – to be comforted that the dream was unfounded – I did not receive. Shit. So. Well then… even if the dream did not happen, it would not be unreasonable to believe that it ..could happen. At any point. Sometime soon? Did they not want to be friends anymore? At least since I was talking to the real deal now and not trying to read a message in a dream, they could verballing confirm for me what the reasons would be for wanting to annul out friendship. They could tell me what I’ve been doing wrong that was so intolerable. And I’d respect it. I’d respect their decision to stop talking to me.

I realise I was.. probably delirious. And just not in a good mental place. For a lot of reasons. The dream-induced anxiety, the lack of sleep, the concussion, etc. But I had it in my head that there were these set of reasons that my friend had come up with for why they decided that they could no longer continue our friendship. And I needed to wring this out of them. And they were being dodgy and evasive and using vague words like “it’s complicated” or “you have your flaws” – but those weren’t responding to exactly what those were – or the reason to annul our friendship. The combination of the words they were using in this real life scenario and my dream of them wanting to annul our friendship.. was.. just a very bad combination. Nothing about the way I was thinking was.. on track.

Eventually they end up telling me some of their concerns, which are…not at all the concerns I thought – or had imagined in my dream. And that cognitive dissonance was able to break me out of the dream-mental-reality I was in. idk. That delirious talk also raised some other questions, but.. they needed to sleep. I can’t even imagine what that conversation must have been like on their end, tbh. I can hardly conceptualise what it was on my end since so little of it was grounded in reality.

It’s another hour or so before I fall asleep. I sleep at maybe 3am. Wake up promptly at 7am without an alarm (7:02 was sunrise; I remember I checked my phone at 7:04am). It takes me way too long to get ready for work. I was planning on walking to work, not biking (it’s about a 40 minute walk), but by the time I am ready to leave, it’s already 8:55am. I don’t know where the time went. So I stagger over to get my bike because if I’m going to be late, at least I won’t be…ridiculously late.

I’m at work by 9:30am. I can’t get any work done. I can’t focus. I make some edits to the document based on suggestions my supervisor had left, but I’m unable to generate complete sentences. I’m distracted and just can’t focus on anything at all. But I… check my e-mail and see I got a free haircut because of my blood donation at this hypermasculine place called SportClips? I check locations, and the nearest one is some 4 miles away. I don’t know if I want to make that trek – but I am due for a haircut I guess. I’ve been looking shaggy and haggardly lately I guess. My friend strongly urges me to get my hair cut – I guess on account of the recent attack. I guess I can pass as female (like a short haired androgynous female), so they do urge me to get my hair cut. Buzzed. Okay. I’ll have to find some time to allocate to get to this SportClips then. My friend and I laugh about how ridiculously hypermasculine this place is marketed. “Sports on TV” “Guy Smart Stylists” “It’s good to be a guy!” “You’re always welcome for a mini Man Break.” *images of attractive women cutting men’s hair and men watching Sports™ together* Tbh it’s a little nauseating. 

My supervisor checks in on me and tells me I should go home. I haven’t even been at work for 2 hours and she is sending me off because – I guess – I’m in terrible shape. She tells me I can make up the hours tomorrow and Friday. I only worked 3.5 hours yesterday too. I’ve just been… not doing great. But I know I can’t get anything done at work, so I take her advice and leave. It’s 11:30am – not even noon, and I’m already off work.

Huh. I figure I can get that haircut then. Since I unexpectedly have some time.

Have to figure out how to get there. There’s a …tube… it looks like only cars go there? I quickly look up that tube on the internet to see if it’s amenable to foot/bike traffic. The one site I checked confirms it is – says it’s a narrow pass, so only one bike can fit at a time - if there are two bikers, they have to dismount to pass. Fair enough. Makes sense. So I turn into the tunnel.

It…… hhmmmmm. I am only on the road for a few meters before I realise I am the only bike on a very high speed highway like road with no shoulder. Off the the side behind a fence is a small narrow sidewalk. But why didn’t I go in there? I passed the entrance?? I don’t think so. I don’t remember an entrance. So I dismount. On the fuckin freeway. I have to walk back against traffic. There is no shoulder. I’m fuckin. Terrified. But. I can’t keep going forward into the tunnel with this traffic. I would die. So less chance of dying is walking back to try to find how to get on the other side of this fence thing. It takes a while to walk back just a couple dozen meters or so because. It’s a blind curve. With trucks and cars going at 50-60mph. And I’m walking. With a bike. It’s just a terrible situation. I finally get back to where the fence starts. And it’s???? Fuckin??? NARROW??? The opening of the fence is just barely big enough for me to fit through sideways. Now look – I’m a decently slim person. When I looked at that entrance, just eyeballing it, I would have told you I wouldn’t be able to get in there. But. Idk I’m in too deep now. How to get my bike through, though. I dismantle the front wheel of my bike so that I can turn the handlebars sideways and…flip the bike through. It is too narrow for even the pedals to fit through. I guess that gives you an idea of how narrow this is. With enough finagling, I’m able to squeeze the bike through. Then the front wheel. Then my backpack. Then myself. On the other side of the fence now, I put my bike back together.

Now I guess if I were in my right mind I would not have done that. I probably would have called it a day. But clearly I guess I wasn’t thinking. My head is definitely not set on right from a combination of shit – the lack of sleep, the concussion, the combination thereof, the anxiety dream from the night before…? Any number of factors idk. But clearly the fact that I did all that shit without questioning anything means I wasn’t thinking rationally.

Anyhow once I got past that narrow entrance I felt relatively safe from the cars. I was elevated and behind a fence. Once in the tunnel, I was clearly the only non vehicular traffic. It was narrow enough for just me and my bike (for the handlebars of the bike to be straight across), but nothing else. Idk what that website was on about because there is no way two bikers could fit, even dismounted. Also – this is a highway???????? There is only one way traffic.

The tunnel ended after a mile. I did not feel 100% safe even behind the fence but that was…a lot safer than I felt outside the tunnel. No more fence, and the ledge narrowed to a staggering foot and a half wide. Which might have been fine – maybe – if not for the big arrow signs off the walls directing the car traffic. Why? I don’t know. It’s a fucking highway it’s not like there are multiple ways you can go. It’s those arrows that tell you the road is turning/curving, I guess so you don’t ram into a wall since you’re going 60-70 mph. Anyhow. 

I… was convinced I was going to die. If I stuck ad arm out at any point, I would have lost it. I tried hard to keep my body as close to the wall as possible, but those giant metal arrow signs meant that I occasionally had to step off into the actual road. I was gonna die here. And nobody would know where I was except the one friend. And for what. For a haircut. A haircut that would maybe prevent me from being assaulted another time? Idk.

This was.. the worst stretch of road. Honestly. Probably the first time I started thinking rationally all day. Why the fuck was I here? There was no way out of this. I’d shake every time a car or truck passed because of the speeds and they were close enough to almost clip me. It would have been so easy for me to die. 

But. I didn’t. Eventually the wall ended and it opened up to another highway. An open two way highway that was slower – I guess mostly local traffic. (Slower as in fewer cars, not slower speeds). I hopped the short divider fence and pulled my bike over, waited for the second highway to clear up, and traversed the four lanes. To. A …strip mall? Honestly idk at this point I felt unreal. Like if you’ve ever spent 3-4 days with no sleep and you feel ethereal and timeless and like you don’t actually have a corporeal form. That’s how I felt. It was a little past noon by this point. Of course the strip mall is relatively dead. Who goes to a strip mall at noon on a Wednesday? Liminal space. 

I wander around kind of delirious and find the SportClips. I fuckin almost died for this stupid SportClips. My body was covered in soot from the tunnel I guess, but the lady at the reception was kind enough not to say anything about that or my vacant stare and hollow tone of voice. 

But then idk what proceeded was…? One of the most pleasant experiences of my life? Idk if it was cuz I was so delirious but. Hm. So I usually cut my own hair, so I don’t know much about getting hair professionally cut. I didn’t have a picture or a goal in mind. Just.. short. Buzzed. She offered some suggestions and tbh I said “yeah sure okay” to them all. “You’re so picky – what am I gonna do with you?” she joked. She asked me how I normally wear my hair. ???? idk I just.. I just wake up and it’s on my head idk. I don’t use any product I guess. And she cut it…so it looked really nice?? Huhhh…..

And then since it was my first time there, she asked if I wanted a warm shampoo and head massage??? Um???? Okay???? She brought me around to the back and sat me down in a chair that reclined. And put a hot towel on my face. And massaged my temples of my forehead and my cheekbones ???? through the hot towel??? And then washed my hair with shampoo and massaged my head???? While doing it?????? It was the single most pleasant experience I had ever had in my entire life I think. Also?? The chair…was vibrating the whole time?????????? God… 

That didn’t last that long hah, but then she brings me out and sits me down in another chair. I guess it’s to dry off. She wiped my face off with the hot towel and I… just felt… really taken care of??? Idk I felt safe? Hah. Then she says dryly with a smile “but wait there’s more” and pulls out a thing – I don’t even know what it is but tbh I’m too afraid to ask. It almost looks like an…air horn…? But hold up, it’s not plugged in. I think maybe it’s a blow drier? And it’s. A fucking. Massage thing. She gives me a fucking neck and shoulder massage. I’m. Fucking. Dead. This is the most amazing thing I have never asked for, and I did not expect any of this. 

Then she tousles my hair with some product although tbh it looks pretty damn amazing even without product. I ask if I can give her kudos or anything on the website or anywhere. Turns out it’s her last day, so it’s not like it’ll do anything. But I can do it anyway so they know what they’re missing. Okay, I say. I’ll do that. Because of my blood donation, it was free. A $20 haircut and an unexpected massage for free. Wow.

Hm okay. Now I have to figure out how to get home. It’s about 12:30. There is a tube for the Northward direction but god idk there is nothing I wanted less at that moment than to relive that underground highway tunnel experience. I’m not sure I would survive a second attempt and I’d …really rather not. My heart had still not settled by that point. And just the thought of needing to do that again was anxiety inducing.

There’s a bus in the area and also a ferry. The bus is nearby but I don’t know if they will allow a bike on. The ferry is another 4 miles out of the way and will take me pretty far out, but I guess I can bike home eventually… before my tutoring. God, I still have to tutor tonight. As I’m looking for the bus station, I feel my legs buckle underneath me. I realise I haven’t eaten yet. It’s about 1:30pm. I think I last ate yesterday around…5pm? Hm. Anyhow if this bus thing doesn’t work out, I’ll look for the ferry and figure out how that works when I get there. Hopefully the bus works.

But I realise. I don’t have fuckin cash on me. Last week, a woman approached me and said she was homeless and needed money for food. I’m.. not in the best financial situation right now, as you guys probably know, but also I’ve been there – where you don’t know when or where you can get your next meal. She said please. I dug out my wallet and gave her the only bill I had – a $10. That would buy her lunch. Idk I didn’t feel as great as I should have because honestly I’m.. really not doing well myself. But. No one should have to go hungry. So. That’s why I have no cash on me. And the bus comes. The fare is $2.25. They don’t take card. And it’s exact change only. I’m kind of.. panicking as I’m digging through my backpack. My pockets are empty and every pocket in my backpack seems em…pty…? I see something shiny. A fuckin. Coin? I have… I miraculously have $2.25 in my backpack. I don’t know what sort of deity is pulling for me tbh – clearly some god somewhere is working overtime, cuz I somehow have exact fucking change for a bus fare. Lord in heaven. And the bus even has a rack for my bike.

The bus somehow crosses the channel without my noticing. Damn that was fast…? I’m so close to home. Also my hair smells ridiculously good. Even when I was in my “how to get home” panicked state, I kept on randomly smelling how ridiculously good my hair was. It was.. the strangest experience. Couldn’t focus on getting home because I was just distracted by the smell of my hair. Soot on my body and disheveled clothes, I probably looked like a hobo with a really fuckin sharp haircut. Idk. 

I get off about 8 blocks from my house and it’s a strange walk back. It’s about 3pm maybe and I’m just feeling delirious. Everything about it feels unreal but I just know I’m really close to home. I make it home, safe, and I can’t support myself upright anymore. Crash on my bed. I send a tremendously short e-mail to my tutoring client “I don’t think I can be there for our lesson tonight.” Probably conjugated a verb wrong, but I couldn’t think enough to write anything more. I finally crashed. I slept for about.. half an hour to an hour? About 40 minutes, I think. And spend another half hour lying there, trying to get up.

It’s now about 7pm. And I need to cook something.