#he then starts hyperventilating(?) and I know it’s because he’s been left tied up with a deadly creature on the loose near him

[random-kido]

My interpretation of s3e5

Depth charge is so funny to me on account of the fact that he is so serious compared to everything else going around him

[kwonhhii]

an idea that popped in my head while on a bus ride home, as this is my first post here i don't know if i'll write more of this or even be active here but i thought why not clear this out of my drafts before school starts again, so here you go.

not proofread!

YANDERE! LEE HEESEUNG and YANDERE! SIM JAEYUN x IDOL!READER (Named)

Olivia was horrified, this couldn't be happening to her. In the sheer amount of shock and fear she was experiencing she managed to drop her phone to the ground, cracking the screen. Her hands thrembled with her breathing becoming shorter and shorter with every intake. She felt like passing out simply due to what Heeseung had managed to do now, this was going to put a nail in the coffin for her whole career, not like it wasn't already 6 feet under.

That's when her ringtone started blaring and she scrambled to pick up her phone, seeing it was one of her managers, Eunji, calling her. She pressed the answer button with shaking hands and heard Eunjis' screech immediately "Huh Olivia! What is this news about you and Heeseung dating?!" she yelled out in anger and the younger girls' whole body began to tremble "I-I don't know Eunji." she said in a hushed tone, scared of her manager yelling at her again "We broke up almost a year ago, you know that." she stated to her manager who was pissed on the other side "Well I guess you're not as broken up as I seemed to think." Eunji stated, bitterness clear in her voice.

Olivia immediately tried to defend herself "No, Eunji, I'm serious. I don't know why he would even say that." her voice got caught in her throat "The photo he showed is almost two years old, please you have to believe me." she pleaded with her manager, tears streaming down her face in blatant distress. Eunji could be heard sighing on the other line "I can believe you all you want, but the higher ups won't. A meeting is scheduled in an hour with both our company representatives and his." this caused Olivia to once again hyperventilate.

"Get ready, I'll send out Hyunwoo to pick you up." Eunji ordered out before hanging up the phone, leaving Olivia to her own thoughts and tears. How foolish could she have been to not take his threat seriously? He had threatened her to break up with Ricky and these were the consequences. Oh God, Ricky! What would he think of her now because of this situation. She dialed him immediately, but due to not getting any response she left him a voicemail "Please, please call me once you get this message, I can explain everything." she said and ended the voicemail. But the sad truth was that the girl could not explain anything, how was she going to explain to the boy who treated her like gold that her psychotic ex had done this for some stupid revenge he wanted because she had broken up with him. How was she going to explain all of that in a calm manner, when here she was trembling just at what the man had done on his live stream, declared the two were dating and showed an old photo as proof. Either she was going to die or her career as a kpop idol was.

About fourty-five minutes after the disaster that had happened, Hyunwoo, another manager of theirs came to pick up Olivia as she still hadn't gotten her drivers license. She tied her shoes and made her way down tbe stairs to meet the tall bulky manger outside, as he lead her inside the car he said nothing. And that was the worst thing for Olivia because Hyunwoo was one of the sweetest, kindest and most talkative people she had ever met, usually he couldn't shut his mouth from talking, so this meant she really, really fucked up. Finally as he turned the car on he spoke "So is it true?" he asked, stealing a glance to the girl through the rear view mirror. She shook her head firmly "No, not at all."

The sound of his tongue clickling with irritation was loud and Olivia only closed more and more into herself, no matter how much she pleaded innocent in this, no one would believe her. "How did he get the photo then?" he asked "I thought you two broke up a long time ago." he added and the girl nodded. Alongside her members, Hyunwoo and Eunji were privy on the information of her dating the other idol. She had even almost come close to telling all of them the truth about her relationship a few times, but held back from fear. Not fear of what he would do to her, she had already been through hell and back with him, no, but fear of what he would do to those she cared about.

"It's an old photo, just as I told Eunji unnie." Olivia said as the car sped through the streets. "Do you have any knowledge on why he would do something like this then?" Hyunwoo asked and the girl almost nodded before reminding herself not to. So she shook her head in denial "No, I'm as clueless as all of you." she let out a long sigh "I'm just hoping for this meeting to be done quickly. This topic isn't something I like talking about." Hyunwoo only hummed and contined driving to her agency. The car ride was short and not very pleasant with the present silence from her favourite manager. The two of them got out of the car and headed inside the tall building, Olivia let out another long sigh as if preparing herself mentally to see that man again.

Hyunwoo led her to a meeting room on the fifth floor and the two stepped inside. The room was already full with Eunji sitting down, the CEO of her company by her side and on the other side of the table was the Be:Lift representative alongside Heeseung. The boy who in a matter of hours ruined her image as an idol, and ruined her career alongside it, was smirking at the paper he was reading. Olivia shuddered before Hyunwoo lead her to a seat next to Eunji who gave her a stern look, as if to behave. The seat she was ushered to, was unluckily for the girl right across Heeseungs' seat, he now smirked at the girl before going to his stupid poker face Olivia always hated.

"Alright then, with everyone present, shall we start?" the CEO said and everyone in the room agreed "Miss Huh, here is your copy of the contract that the representatives of Be:Lift proposed to us." he handed the girl a contract that was only one page long and she turned to read it right away "Of course, we agree with all the details as we see mutual benefit in letting your relationship be public." her eyes wanted to jump out of theit sockets "Excuse me but what!" she exclaimed "We're not even dating, we broke up for Gods' sake." she stated looking at Heeseung who just seemed amused at her cry. Eunji gave her another hard look before talking.

"It doesn't matter if you're dating in reality. In the eyes of the public you two are dating after." she paused to give Heeseung a look full of disgust "Well after what was done a few hours prior." she added "So you will either sign that paper or you loose your job." she finished and Olivia wanted to disappear right there. How could she do this?! How was this fair in the slightest!? And how could Heeseung just fucking sit there smirking at her as if he knew something more about this than her!? At her lack of words the CEO jumped in "Let's not threat anyone Eunji-ah." he said and she apologised immediately "But miss Huh, you do understand that if you don't sign this, you're gone. And I don't really know how well eternia can do without it's main creative in the team."

Now that wasn't a direct threat, but it still was one and Olivia simply nodded, lost for words at how she was just toys to these people. She wasn't worthy of being seen or treated as a human in these peoples' eyes and that's what disgusted her the most. Reluctantly she signed the contract with which she sold all her integrity, and while everyone else left the meeting room to "celebrate" the successful venture, she was left all alone to reflect on what she had just done to herself. But she was not as alone as she seemed to think, he was there, leaning on a wall staring down at her with an almost predatory glint in his eyes. "I told you there would be consequences if you disobeyed and didn't break up with that stupid rebound." he dryly chuckled. "Did you really think I was going to let you go so easily?"

She glared at him through her disheveled eyes as he stalked around the table towards her "He wasn't even a good rebound love. I don't really know what you saw in him." he said with a smile and that's when Olivia broke "I don't know what I saw in you!" she yelled out "You fucking psychopath! You ruined my life!" tears brimmed in her eyes as he only smiled down at the girl but she continued to let her rage consume her "Fuck you and fuck Jake for ever introducing me to you!" she finally finished with a slam on the table and that's when the door opened. Through her hazy gaze she saw a man enter with a pout on his mouth, it was Jake, fucking Jake "Aww, that hurts my feelings darling." he stated, coming to stand next to Heeseung. "She has to apologise for it, doesn't she Heeseung?"

His friend hummed with a small smirk, a dark glint in his eyes as they both looked at her. "Well then, won't you apologise?" Jake asked with a fake pout on his face and Olivias' jaw clenched just at the thought that he once was her best friend. She beelined to step out but was stopped bu Heeseungs' hand which pulled her back "Those are same bad manners of yours love." he stated with a chuckled, the girl tried to release her hand from his grip "Let me the fuck go Heeseung. We're done, what don't you understand about that!" she said as she felt her upperarm start to ache from his grip. "I think that contract you just signed says different love, doesn't it?"

She somehow managed to pull her upperarm out of his tight grip and held onto the door to the office. "Just because I signed something doesn't mean I owe you shit, now goodbye you physcopaths." and with that she bolted out of the room back downstairs. Olivia had no clue on how she was supposed to go back to her dorm or whether she would even want to go back. Would the two of them follow her there? They already knew the address, so it was probable for either of them to show up. Not knowing what to do she sat on a park bench and dialed a number she hadn't heard off in a long time "Auntie Jia?" she muttered out "Can I—" she stuttered "Can I come over for a few days? There's been chaos here and I need a break from everything."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for calling my mother and MIL selfish, insecure, pieces of shit over a friend's necklace?

Some background: I, 25F, just married the love of my life, who we'll call J.

I was introduced to J in our junior year of high school by our mutual friend, who we'll call G. G has always been a super important person to us. She is one of our best friends, and the three of us are very close. She was actually the first person we told when we started dating. We are both pretty protective over G, as she is autistic and has crippling anxiety and struggles a lot day to day. She was actually living with us when this story occurred because she had been spiraling on her own, and her parents lived too far for her to commute to her work from their house. She's been in therapy for years and has been doing a lot better than when we first met her, but we still tend to be pretty protective over her, as she has very few friends besides us. We often joke that she's our practice kid because she goes everywhere with us and has a complete lack of common sense despite being one of the smartest people I know.

In the last week of our junior year, J gave me, G, and another friend of his, necklaces that he made. They were nothing fancy, just pieces of rocks that he carved (?) and tied a string around, but G loved it. It acted as a reminder that she had people who cared about her when her anxiety spiked, and she's worn it almost every day for the last 9 years, to the point where J replaced the string with a thin chain because it broke from use. It's a comfort item, and wearing it is part of her routine.

Another important thing to note is that J and I both have pretty bad relationships with all of our parents. Both of our parents are messily divorced, and the only ones we visit regularly are my dad and stepmom. We still decided to invite all of them to the wedding and involve our mom's in the wedding party to avoid drama, and because some small part of me still wanted my mom to be involved in my wedding like a real parent.

Shortly before our wedding, I was talking to my mom and J's mom in our kitchen about some details for the wedding party and the bridesmaid and groomsmen accessories. I made a joke that no matter what we picked, G would be wearing her necklace. They wanted to know what I meant, and while I was explaining, G came into the kitchen to grab a snack. (Side note: neither of them like G, and my mom in particular has made several abelist comments in the past about her stimming or lack of social awareness) When I was done, my mom turned to G and asked if she was going to wear it at our wedding. Confused, G said yes, and my mom lost it. She called her disrespectful and accused her of trying to break up me and J because J gave her that necklace, and it was bad manners to wear a present from the groom or something. J's mom backed her up and said a lot of awful things I won't repeat, but were really abelist, arophobic (G is open about being aromantic), and included several slurs.

I was completely blindsided. I knew they had those awful opinions, but I had never heard them do anything even remotely close, and I sat there stunned at first until G started to cry and hyperventilate (she has trauma around situations similar to this, and she was already on edge because of a recent death in her family). When that happened, it was like a switch flipped. I got between G and my mom, who at this point had gotten out of her seat and was getting close to G. I told them both to get out, and when they refused I told them they were selfish, insecure, pieces of shit, that they had no right to say any of that to G, and that just because they couldn't keep their husband's didn't mean they had any right to interfere and try to create problems where there weren't any.

At this point, J came home and saw G panicking and immediately reacted. He told our moms to leave, and this time, they left. After they left, it took us almost 2 hours to calm G down from her panic attack, and the whole time, I was boiling with rage over the interaction. After she fell asleep, I told J what had happened. He was completely on my side, and we even discussed banning them from the wedding unless they apologized. G has been far more supportive of us than they have been, and if I had to choose, I would rather have her by my side on my wedding day. Ultimately, we let G decide since she was the one they went after, and she said she would be okay, so they came to the wedding and thankfully didn't mention the necklace at all. However, they told our respective families what happened, and I've been getting texts from family members telling me I went too far in bringing up their divorces, and that I should apologize, especially since the fight was over something as small as a necklace.

I don't think I was wrong to defend G, but I know I tend to overreact in situations where she is involved, and J is as bad as I am. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[peachpearsnook]

Dead Purple Flowers Tied Up With Twine (Dead Donatello AU)

Chapter Two

Warnings: This AU contains character death, terminal illness, grief and mourning, and horrible coping mechanisms

Mikey had finally completed what he had been working on for his brother, a mural outside his favorite pizza shop. He took a picture after dark because he knew it would look the best, with the warm lights from the shop illuminating the piece. He spent the extra coin to get all the best shades of purple at the store. It was a perfect piece to his brother. He took a picture of it on his phone, knowing full well Donnie couldn’t leave the lair anymore, and went to show him his work.

He passed Leo on his way to the lab. He was listening to bubblegum pop loudly without headphones as he moved and shuffled supplies around in the med bay. Mikey could tell Leo was obsessing over his textbooks for something he might have missed about Donnie’s illness. He was still dancing around to the beat, flipping between different books and pages.

Mikey kept walking to the far reaches of the lair. Donnie's door didn’t have a lock on it anymore and it opened smoothly, clicking into place. From the doorway he could see him asleep at his desk, laying across scattered papers of scribbled out sketches.

“Don?” He called. No response. “Hey, Donald, I have something to show you.”

He padded over to the desk and nudged at his brother’s side. Donnie didn’t move. He moved to grab his shoulder and shake him awake, but when he fully touched him he was cold. Mikey froze. No, no, no, no—

Mikey let out a blood curdling scream, he was dead, Donnie was dead and he wasn’t supposed to have died yet, he still had time, he had said so, he said he still had weeks left, not days, not hours until his final breath, he had done the calculations, Donnie had—

Mikey was hyperventilating, gasping for breaths he couldn’t catch as he still stood there staring at the body of his brother, who no longer had breath of his own to breathe.

Raph came racing around the corner shouting Mikey’s name, asking him what was wrong and why he was screaming. He couldn’t answer, having collapsed next to Donnie’s chair, holding onto the arm rest and sobbing into his forearms.

Raph felt Donnie’s arm, near his wrist where a pulse should be. Then something shattered inside him. There was nothing. No slight warmth, no sign of a pulse, no sign of life. His brother lay still, his body no longer even moving to breath. He was just still, cold and ridged.

His first reaction was to start crying, then it was to immediately pull himself together again. Raph had to be strong, more than ever, Splinter wasn’t here anymore, so he had to be able to hold the family together, even as he wanted to collapse next to Mikey and cry, and sob, and let it all out. He couldn’t afford to do that, not here, not now.

He tried to pull Mikey away from the chair, but his little brother held strong. He shouldn’t be seeing this. Donnie didn’t look like himself anymore. He was pale, shrunken, and frail, his face gaunt and his eyes unseeing.

“Mikey,” he mumbled, still holding onto his brother’s arm.

Mikey continued to sob, holding onto the chair for all it was worth. He couldn’t let go.

“Mikey, we have to tell Leo.” Raph crouched down, setting a hand on Mikey’s shoulder, his little brother still unwilling to budge from where he was hunched on the floor.

He ended up having to leave Mikey to go grab Leo. Leo looked so happy when Raph ran in, listening to his music and dancing around the med bay.

“Hey, Raph,” Leo chirped, still focused on his work in organizing the bay, “what’s up?”

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He didn’t have to say it out loud until now. Raph forced himself to take a deep breath and spit it out. “It’s Donnie, he’s—he had less time than he thought.”

The color drained from Leo’s face in an instant. Leo dropped what he was holding and it shattered at his feet. Then they were racing down the hall, ignoring the glass on the ground in the med bay. Leo was already crying by the time he got to the lab.

“No, no, no, no . . .” Leo sobbed, pacing around Donnie, afraid to move any closer. “He said-he said—”

Raph stood a little away, tears rolling down his cheeks already no matter how he tried to hold them back or desperately wipe them away. He would stay strong, he had to, for Leo, for Mikey . . . for Donnie.

“Raph, he said—” Leo turned to Raph, struggling to breath, his eyes teary, “he—”

“I know, I know,” Raph’s voice cracked, even as he tried to hide it.

Leo finally moved towards Donnie, he did the same as Raph and checked once again for a pulse. When he found nothing, he pulled away instantly. “He’s—”

Mikey was still crumpled on his knees by the chair, his cries having weakened into hiccups and ragged breaths.

Leo crashed into Raph, who held onto him immediately.

They stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Mikey refused to let go of Donnie’s chair, and Raph refused to let go of Leo who still sobbed in his arms. After several moments of just crying, Raph managed to pull Mikey off the chair and give him to Leo, then pushed Leo out the door with him. He closed the door, and faced Donnie’s body. He didn’t know what to do. He was only seventeen, he wasn’t prepared for this, didn't know how to handle it, and Splinter, Dad, he was the one who was supposed to know what to do, but he was gone. Just like Donnie, he was gone, and it was Raph’s job now to handle it, but he was at a loss.

He didn’t want to move Donnie. It felt wrong. So, he stood there for a few minutes, staring at the body of his dead brother, unsure of what to do.

Then he shakily took out his phone and called his step-father. They weren’t entirely close. Their relationship was still strained to say the least. But Draxum would know what to do, could do what he couldn’t. And Draxum deserved to know his kid was gone.

“Hello? Raphael?”

He struggled to speak for a moment. “Can-can you come to the lair? Now? I—”

“Raphael? Are you okay?”

“I-I need you, please. I don’t, I can’t—”

“I am on my way, Raphael.” There was shuffling on the other end of the line. “Are you hurt?”

Raph couldn’t answer. His throat was clogged from all the held-back tears. He struggled to croak out a barely audible, “N-no.”

“I’ll be there in a moment, Raphael. Stay on the line.”

The door slid open again a few minutes later. Leo and Mikey were still on the floor in the hall. The two of them wrapped around each other still sobbing. Draxum stood in the doorway, holding the door open. He took in the sights of the lab and his breath hitched.

Suddenly, Raph wasn’t his main priority anymore, once it became clear to him that Raph wasn’t in danger. And when he saw Donnie . . .

Draxum rushed over to him and nearly broke down himself.

“Donatello?” He croaked, kneeling beside the desk.

Raph couldn’t hold back the flood gate anymore and started sobbing, hugging himself and falling to his knees.

“My son?” Draxum carefully placed a hand on Donnie’s shoulder. He felt how cold he was but didn’t move it. He took in a sharp breath, now understanding the gravity of the situation.

His boy was dead.

He stood up sharply and turned to Raph. “Raph, call April, tell her to get here when she can. She can look after you boys for the time being. I will-I am going to take Donnie.”

“But D��”

“Raph, you have to be the adult for a moment, and I am sorry, but this is—” Draxum paused to swear under his breath. “—this is . . . there is nothing we can do. I have to take him. April will be the adult until I return. You will be the adult until she gets here.”

Raph shuddered, wiping at his face.

“Can you do that? Just for now, be strong a little longer.”

Raph nodded.

“You are so strong, Raphael,” Draxum muttered. “I am going to move your brother. Could you take your brothers into the projector room and wait there, call April to come look after you.”

Raph didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to go wait in another room while his brother was taken away. But he did as he was told, because he didn’t know what else to do. He picked up Mikey and held Leo’s hand, taking them into the projector room. He set Mikey on the couch and wrapped him in a blanket. Leo sat next to him, wrapped in his own blanket.

He got out his phone again and called April.

It was hours spent in the projector room crying with his brothers, and then crying with April. They all huddled together, having moved onto the floor from the couch. Mikey was clinging to Raph's chest, with April and Leo on either side of him.

Draxum came back eventually. It was nearly four in the morning when he returned, and all of them but Raph had fallen asleep, tired from the previous day. He didn’t have his brother with him anymore, Donnie’s body was taken away and he didn’t come back. He wasn’t going to come back. He couldn’t.

Draxum took a seat on the ground next to the pile, leaning against the couch. He seemed tired, letting out a sigh. “You can rest, Raphael, it is late.”

Donnie died a few days ago and it still didn’t feel real. Leo was convinced that it was all still a dream, that he would wake up and his twin would still be there. But yet every morning he continuously awoke to the same grim reality: Donnie was dead, there was no hellish nightmare to awaken from.

No one had gone in the lab since. They couldn’t face that he wasn’t there, it was easier to pretend he was just in his lab as always rather than burned and sitting in a fancy, purple cup in the projector room next to Splinter.

Leo walked by the door everyday, his room was the farthest in the lair next to Donnie’s old room.

Draxum offered that they should come live with him and get out of the sewers. Raph agreed almost instantly to the move, itching to get out of the lair because of how every part of it only stood to remind him of Donnie. Leo and Mikey fought them at every turn. April managed to convince Mikey that they would be closer in the apartment complex.

Leo wasn’t convinced. He wouldn’t let anyone into the lab to pack up Donnie’s things and he refused to pack up his own belongings.

“Leo?” Mikey asked hesitantly, knocking his knuckles against Leo’s arm. “Are you—are you okay?”

Leo was currently on the floor in the projector room staring at Splinter’s old ‘do not touch’ shelf. Donnie and Dad were on that shelf now. At least they were until Raph put them both in a box so he can follow this step-father’s every instruction. Leo was not convinced.

“You seem kinda spacy,” Mikey added, flopping down next to him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“You should be getting your stuff together,” Raph called, peeking into the projector room, carrying a box of his own.

Leo grumbled and pulled Mikey against his side.

Raph rolled his eyes. “Start packin’ up or your stuffs gonna be left behind.”

Leo didn’t answer again. Mikey was starting to think he was being used as an excuse for Leo to not answer their older brother.

“We . . . we're goin’ into his room next,” Raph muttered, “we want to go in together, so pack up your things so we can.”

Leo suddenly pushed Mikey away, and stood up. He stomped past Raph and down the hall. He knew he was being dramatic and stupid, pushing his brothers away after such a horrible loss that was affecting all of them. But he couldn’t help but be upset, blaming everyone and himself for what had happened despite knowing damn well there was nothing anyone could do to stop Donnie’s cancer. But he was the medic, he should have been able to see it, should have known something was wrong before it was too late.

He walked by the lab door, as always. The door was closed, but the lock was still missing. He kept walking to his room. It was only a few steps away from the lab. On some sleepless night, when his twin was still alive, he could hear the sounds of blasting dubstep through his door. He missed it, he missed the dubstep and the screaming and the explosions. The random Donnie check-ins where he would wander into Leo’s room and just lay next to him. The random noises Donnie would make as he watched movies with them or hung out with them in the atrium. Everything, he missed everything. But now everything was gone. There would be no more of those moments.

He carelessly threw his things into boxes and tried not to think about his missing second half. But he kept finding the little gifts Donnie made him. Leo even found the first gift he’d ever gotten, a rock painted a reflective blue from a handicap parking space on the first night Splinter took them out of the lair. Donnie had tripped over it when he first found it and upon picking it up, he had instantly given it to Leo. After every gift he gave out Donnie was always so happy. Leo just wanted to see him be happy again.

In the final week of Leo knowing about his brother’s cancer, and even a little before then, Donnie never looked happy. No happy little noises or hand movements, he only held a depressed expression as he tried to keep himself standing with his staff. The closest he could get were forced grimaces, and those looked just as miserable.

Leo tossed the nightlight Donnie gave him into his personal possessions box. The box that could never get lost under any circumstances. The box he would watch from here to Draxum’s apartment. Donnie made it for him when they were six, because Leo was scared of the dark, and truth be told, he still can’t sleep at night without it. Whether he was scared of the dark or needed his brother close, he didn’t know. What mattered is that he knew he needed it desperately.

He finished packing up his things. His room was completely empty now. All his Jupiter Jim posters and figurines cleaned from the walls and shelves. He taped up the last box and stacked them together.

Mikey was in the doorway when he turned back around.

Leo stood there next to his stacks of boxes, looking his little brother up and down. He still didn’t want to say a word, even though he knew none of this was Mikey’s fault.

“Raph’s waiting for us at his door,” Mikey said, looking out of place standing at Leo’s doorway. He was wearing a paint-stained black hoodie that was way too large for him. It was another one of Donnie’s gifts. He had gotten it for Mikey when he realized the box turtle had an affinity for street art. That was a year ago, and Mikey continued to paint the city.

Leo narrowed his eyes, but walked past Mikey regardless. He tried to ignore his little brother’s heartbroken gaze on the back of his head.

Raph didn’t say anything upon seeing Leo and Mikey in the hall, he just put a hand on the door handle. But as soon as he did, Leo grabbed his wrist.

“Leo,” Raph warned.

Leo glared back.

“We have to take his stuff to the new apartment, or would you rather we left everythin’ he ever worked on in the sewers to rot and wash away in the next overflow?”

Grief affects everyone differently. So, when Leo got quiet and Raph got angry, Mikey didn’t judge, but fighting over who got to go into their dead brother’s room was not something Mikey was going to stand by for.

“Enough,” Mikey snapped, knocking Leo’s hand off of Raph. He pushed past his older brothers and opened the lab door. It creaked open slowly to reveal the mostly-spotless, aside from the dust that had gathered in the few days after his death, lab that Donnie had left. It was unusual to see it in such a state, lacking its controlled chaos of projects and blueprints littered about. It looked hollow and no longer had the life it once held.

Raph brought in the boxes and went straight to packing everything away, starting with Donnie’s clothes. Purple hoodie, tank tops, even a suit or two. Raph was focused, barely looking through what he was shoving into the boxes.

Mikey wandered to the bulletin boards lining the back wall. It was all of his art, pinned up on the walls. Next to the table beneath the boards, tucked into a corner was a small box. Mikey knelt down and pulled it from its hiding spot. It was labeled: “for my family.”

“Guys?” Mikey called to the rest of the room.

Raph looked up. “Stop messin’ around,” he scolded, “close the box and tape it shut.”

Mikey looked back at the box addressed for them. There were three things inside that Mikey didn’t quite get to see before he closed the box’s flaps and taped it shut.

He got back up and pulled another box closer, slowly pulling down old artwork and tossing it into the boxes along with everything from the tables lining the back wall.

Leo went straight for the curtain in the far corner of the room and pulled it back. His bed was ruffled and messy from the last night Donnie had ever slept in it. The pillowcase was stained a slight brownish color that Leo knew well as dried blood. He would have to throw the pillow away, but he pulled Donnie’s blankets and sheets off the bed and into a box.

The nightstand had a matching nightlight, but it was glowing a faded purple light, the batteries nearly dead from having been on for days. Next to the light was a family picture in a wooden purple frame and a fold up drawing Mikey had done of all of them. The drawing was chicken scratch compared to what Mikey could do now, the figures were nothing but colored blobs. The bottom corner of the paper read: “Michelangelo, Age 5.”

Leo put the picture into his medic bag rather than into one of the boxes. He put the picture frame into a box but also kept the matching nightlight.

He looked through Donnie’s drawers and found some fidgets, a tablet, and a large, almost empty bottle of advil. He put all of it into the box and taped it shut.

When he stepped back out of the curtain, Mikey and Raph were pulling apart Donnie’s computer setup. Raph was packing it into the boxes while Mikey wrote down instructions on how to set it back up in case they would ever need to. Leo knew that the computer was going to rot in a box in Draxum’s closet.

Even the lab was empty now. The whole lair was, from tchotchkes to furniture, everything was packed away to either be thrown out or moved into the apartment. They were moving everything from his old home.

Leo didn’t want to leave the lair. It was his home in a way that Draxum’s new apartment would never be. Because Draxum’s new apartment didn’t have Donnie. And like so many other things now, it never would.

The boxes were moved into the apartment and now everyone was doing a final sweep of the lair for things they might have missed.

Leo stood in the empty lab, toying with the nightlight he had taken from Donnie’s nightstand. The light was still going strong, built as tough as his brother used to be. While messing with it in his bag, however, he clicked something.

At first, he thought he had broken it. He pulled it out in a panic, the soft purple light washing over his face in the darkened, empty lab. It didn’t look broken. Then it started playing a recording.

“Leo, shh, I am recording the song,” a squeaky voice buzzed from the nightlight’s speaker.

“But I wanna help sing it with you,” a second voice piped in.

“Sigh. Fine, you can sing the song with me. There are no real lyrics anyway so it's impossible for you to screw this up.”

“Yay! Thank you, Dee.”

“Okay, let me play the music, start on my cue.”

The music, a soft piano that seemed to be coming from another device and was thus extra grainy. Then the two high-pitched voices started to “la, la, la,” along with the music. It sounded good for a moment, the sound of two children singing a lullaby, until one of the voices dissolved into laughter.

“Lee!” the voice shrieked, “S-stop!” Whoever the voice belonged too kept laughing and giggling, fighting to get words out.

The other voice joined in laughing too. Both of them ended up laughing their little hearts out until the audio cut out.

It was the lullabye Donnie wanted to record when he made the nightlights. He was going to record it for the both of them, but after his own fell to laughter and tickle fights, he never got around to recording the song for Leo’s light.

A drop of water splattered onto his knuckle. His fingers brushed against his cheeks and came back damp with tears. He messily wiped the rest of his tears away, turned the nightlight off, and shoved it back into his bag.

Leo left the lab, and left the lair, leaving his home.

[masterpost] | [previous] [next]

[stobinesque]

the firmament in you ✨

For Lex’s Spicy Six Summer Challenge! Thanks again for putting this together, @thefreakandthehair! rating: T | wc: 4k | cw: Insomnia, Sleep Paralysis, Suicidal Ideation, References to past self-harm, hurt/comfort | tags: Stobin, Stargazing, Dancing, Post-Season 3 prompt: Dancing under the stars [ FIC PLAYLIST ] [ READ ON AO3 ]

Robin stares up at the ceiling, the glow-in-the-dark stars she’d stuck there when she was a kid winking back at her. The only sounds she can hear are the hum of the box fan in her window, and the rasp of cicadas beyond it. She’s resolutely refusing to turn her head to the side and face the blinking numbers of her clock taunting her.

Every time she closes her eyes, she sees smug faces leering down at her. Feels Steve’s dead—not dead, just slack, just passed out—weight strapped to her. She invents horrors that never happened.

If she keeps her eyes wide open, she only catches it in snatches and brief whispers.

Who needs sleep, anyway?

She thinks maybe the meat-monster spider should be getting more traction in the waking nightmares of her insomnia. And there are certainly times when she squeezes her eyes shut and fireworks burst behind them to a soundtrack of shrieks and groans and echoing fears. But they haunt her far less than the memory of cold fear gripping her chest when she thought, for just a moment, that she had a corpse tied to her back.

She moves to burrow herself into Steve’s side, hoping his warmth might trick her brain into thinking she’s safe.

It’s not a trick. We are safe.

There’s no way of knowing that for certain.

There’s no way of knowing anything for certain.

She rests her head on Steve’s chest and feels his heart rabbiting against her cheek. It makes her lever herself right back up to get a look at his face. She can barely see it in the darkness of the room, but the pale light of the streetlamps filtering in through her curtains is just enough to make out the way his eyes are darting back and forth beneath his eyelids. His breathing is coming in ragged pants, broken up by the occasional pained moan. Fine tremors course through him, like he’s fighting against something, but can’t actually move.

Robin’s own heart kicks up to a racing beat. Steve has spent the past couple weeks trying to explain the last two years of horror to her, and she can’t help the panicked thoughts that start running through her head. What if it’s back? What if it never left? What if it has Steve? Because apparently possession was totally on the table in their lives.

“Steve? Steve! Can you hear me? You’ve gotta wake up.”

His eyes stutter open like he’s being dragged to wakefulness. Hazel eyes stare back at her; unadulterated fear glinting in them. The small whines and groans he’d been making shift into muffled humming, like someone trying to talk through a gag. Like he’s trying to say something, but can’t form his mouth into words.

Robin is seconds away from grabbing the phone off her nightstand and calling anyone and everyone who might be able to help—wishing she had a walkie instead to radio out an all-purpose Code Red—when the dam breaks, and Steve sucks in a giant gasp of air and jerks upright like he’s surfacing from underwater.

“Steve! Steve, are you okay? Are you there?” She’s gripping his shoulder so tight that her nails are biting into flesh, but she can’t loosen her hold on him because if she lets go, he’ll float away.

“Couldn’t—” he gasps out. “Couldn’t move.” He’s nearly hyperventilating; chest heaving as he sucks in big gulps of air like he’s just been drowning. “Tied up. Frozen. I can’t—” He bites out each word like it hurts to speak. “Robs, I can’t—” He breaks off as something seems to crack in him, and collapses into her chest with a muffled sob.

“Hey, it’s alright,” she murmurs, trying to force her voice low and comforting as she wraps an arm around him. “I’ve got you.” She rocks him back and forth, gently, like she’s trying to coax a scared child back to sleep. “It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s all over now.”

It has the bitter taste of a lie on her tongue, but she just has to pretend that it’s true for now. Between the two of them, they can just barely afford a scrap of empty hope.

“—The kids are safe, and the gate is closed.” She knows Steve won’t really accept that until he sees everyone with his own eyes. But they’ve gotten used to telling each other these kinds of lies in the dead of night.

The band that’s been tightening around her chest snaps, and a tidal wave of exhaustion crashes over her. Sleep is all but a lost cause for the night, but they’ve each been at their wit’s end since Starcourt, and the unending turmoil of it all is finally catching up to her.

“I’m so tired,” she whispers into Steve’s hair.

“Robs.” his voice is croaky—strangled with some emotion she can’t quite place—and a calloused thumb sweeps across her cheek. She hadn’t realized she’d started crying.

“I’m tired too,” he admits. He lets out a shaky exhale. “I just want it all to be over.”

Fear catches in her throat. The way he says it makes her think he’s not just talking about the monsters and the torture. She remembers the scars she’d found littered across the skin of his thighs the other day. Remembers tracing a finger over them gently; begging him to never leave her.

The fear she felt in that moment is still lodged in her, tucked firmly behind her heart. But in the grey emptiness of the witching hour, she thinks she understands him.

“We should get out of here,” she says, not really knowing the scope of what she means when she says it.

“Where would we go?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Anywhere? Paris, maybe.”

Steve laughs, but it’s watery. “Might be hard to do on short notice.”

“Let’s just drive then. See where the road takes us.”

Steve sits up and looks at her, expression open and honest. “I mean…I’ve got the Beemer back. We could, if you wanted?”

Robin hooks her fingers through his. “Maybe just for the night?”

They sneak through the house, careful not to wake her parents. They haven’t bothered to change, so Steve’s still wearing an old marching band shirt and checked boxers; Robin, a Hawkins Swim Team shirt with a worn neck, and a pair of Steve’s sweatpants.

They pile into the car silently, Robin curling into the passenger seat, tucking her socked feet underneath her, and resting her head against the window. Through some unspoken agreement, neither of them makes a move to try to pick through Steve’s glove compartment of mixtapes. Steve just reaches over to tune the radio until he lands on something that seems to suit his mood well enough, and turns to her with a questioning tilt of his brow.

…because a vision softly creeping / left its seeds while I was sleeping / and the vision that was planted in my brain / still remains…

Robin’s breath hitches, and she turns to look at Steve, whose face is now glowing in the light of the streetlamps. His hands tighten on the wheel, and the corners of his mouth are drawn tight. She doesn’t want to ask what he saw. She thinks she can guess. Even with the whole gallery of horrors his mind has to choose from, she thinks there’s only one that would leave him paralyzed.

The song bleeds into another as Steve pulls out of her driveway, a soft bass line humming beneath a lilting guitar riff, filling up the car like it has physical presence. It leaves an ache in Robin’s chest, and she reaches out with a shaky hand, laying it palm up on the center console. Steve’s slots home a moment later.

They pull up to the quarry. The chorus of crickets and cicadas echo so loudly it’s like they’re the only sound left in the universe, even though she can still hear the music drifting like smoke from the radio (stars fade, but I linger on…)

“Here?” Robin turns to Steve with a frown. She tries not to think about them standing together at the precipice. Tries not to think about the drop. Tries not to think about how much a part of her wants it.

L ’appel du vide.

The thought scares her, and she has to force herself to back away from it.

Steve meets her gaze with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “There’s a clear view of the sky,” he says. “Thought we could stargaze.”

Robin’s face twists up into an expression she doesn’t think she could put a name to, even if she was looking in a mirror. Eyebrows scrunched, lips twitching upward. She feels some funny mix of fondness and bemusement, tangled up with love. “You wanna go stargazing?”

Steve shrugs. “Figured you’d rather see the real things.”

Robin doesn’t say anything, just stares at him. In defiance of all sense, Steve always drifts to sleep fairly quickly—his troubles are always with staying there than getting there—so she’s had no reason to think he’d noticed her tendency to go cross-eyed staring up at the stars on her ceiling.

“That…that would be great, yeah.”

Steve nods once, decisively, and turns the engine off, but leaves the car on so the radio keeps playing. Robin steps outside, wiggling her toes where she stands. She stretches them out wide; presses them down against the rough, rocky ground.

“C’mon, hop up.”

Robin jerks her head around at Steve’s voice. He’s produced a threadbare quilt from somewhere and is throwing it onto the hood of the car, before climbing up and patting the empty space next to him. Robin settles at his side and under his wing.

“So. Tell me about the stars.”

Robin looks up at him. “What do you wanna know?”

Steve shrugs, rustling her hair. “Dunno. They’re all, like, stories, right? Tell me one.”

Robin hums, considering. “Okay.” She grabs Steve’s hand, arranging his fingers so he’s pointing up at a spot in the western sky, a bit above the horizon. “See that group of stars up there? Looks kind of like two trapezoids smushed together, with little spokes coming out from the corners?”

“I…think so? Maybe?”

“It’s kind of hard to find sometimes, because there aren’t any, like, super super bright stars in it like there are in a lot of the other big constellations? Tonight’s a pretty good night for it, though, especially out here away from all the streetlights. And the new moon, too—it’s always harder to see things when the moon’s out—she’s so bright, you know?” Robin directs Steve’s hand along the constellation’s path. “If you wanna do this again some time I can bring my laser from home and help point things out to you that way.”

Steve nods against the top of her head. “I’d like that.” He lets his hand drop back down between them, but keeps their fingers entwined. “So, which one is that supposed to be?”

“Hercules,” she says. She raises their hands again to continue tracing over the constellation’s shape as she speaks. “That’s his head. And those are his legs—he’s kneeling—and sometimes people draw him with a club in that arm.”

Steve hums. “He was like…some big hero guy, right? Had to kill a bunch of monsters as, like, his job or something?”

Robin chuckles. “That’s not really what ‘labor’ means in this context, but yeah, that’s the basic gist. His whole story’s actually pretty long and complicated, though.” She rubs her thumb over the back of Steve’s hand. “Hercules—or, really, Heracles, if we’re talking Greek myth; the constellation is just named Hercules because that’s the one people know—anyway, he’s kind of cursed from the beginning. His mom gets pregnant with him after Zeus tricks her into sleeping with him, and then Hera—that’s Zeus’ wife—basically makes it her life’s mission to make sure this kid doesn’t exist, right? To the point where his mom just abandons him, because she’s so scared of what Hera might do.”

“Wait, if Zeus tricked the mom, why is Hera taking it out on the kid?”

“Great question! The actual answer is probably that the men telling these stories had really shitty opinions of women. In the context of the story, though, I think it’s supposed to be like…Hera is the queen of the gods, right? And the Olympians as a whole are a mess; they’re fucking mortals left and right, and also fucking each other indiscriminately, but at the same time they’re all, these, like, fundamentally prideful and jealous creatures? So Zeus constantly sleeping around with other people isn’t just a betrayal of Hera, it’s also humiliating to her. But what can she actually do to Zeus, right? So instead, she goes around trying to eradicate all the symbols of his infidelity.”

“That’s dumb,” Steve says. He stares up at the sky. From her vantage point Robin can’t quite make out his expression, but she thinks maybe it’s contemplative. “There’s probably a decent chance I have a half-sibling or two running around out there. And I guess it’s different, because if I don’t know about them, that means no one who would matter to my mom is likely to either. But I still can’t imagine her going out of her way to make another kid’s life miserable just because my dad fucked their mom.”

Robin’s brow wrinkles. Steve hasn’t really talked about his parents. Just told her that they usually spend summers outside of Hawkins, and otherwise carefully side-steps any allusion to the subject. The silence speaks for itself, though. Or so she thought, at least. The way he’s talking now…there’s a bitter edge to it, but he also talks about his mom like he loves her, if in a messy way. “I think…I think that, maybe, it’s easier to hurt people who can’t hurt you back.”

Steve sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t say anything. Robin doesn’t either.

Morissey’s crooning slips out from the Beemer. I am human and I need to be loved…

“Yeah, that makes sense, I guess,” he whispers—more like he’s talking to himself than to her. “So how does the rest of it go?”

“Athena finds him, and takes him to Hera, without telling her who he is. And the irony of it all is that she’s the goddess of, like, marriage and childbirth? And since she doesn’t know who the baby is she feels bad that he got abandoned, and she ends up nursing him. But baby Hercules is already so strong that he bites her breast so hard that she spills milk all across the sky—and that’s how we got the Milky Way.” Robin brings their joined hands up again to run along the bright band of stars cutting a path through the heavens.

“…what the fuck?”

“Mythology is super fucked up, dude.”

“That feels like an understatement!”

“Yeah, well, how else would you explain the Milky Way if you didn’t know about astrophysics yet?!”

“Not with some chick’s breast milk!”

Robin purses her lips and gives an exaggerated head shake. “You just don’t appreciate the power of the female form, Harrington.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s it.” Their hands are still raised high above them, and he idly plays with her fingers. “Tell me the rest of it.”

“You are so demanding,” she scoffs, but carries on anyway. “After he accidentally creates the Milky Way—or, I guess, accidentally causes Hera to create the Milky Way? Whatever, not important. After that, Athena brings him back to his mom to raise him. Which, y’know, passes more or less uneventfully—except for him murdering his music teacher, in some retellings—”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t really get it either. It’s just kind of a blip, and then he’s passing from ‘boyhood’ to ‘manhood’ and has to make a choice about whether to follow the path of Vice or Virtue for the rest of his life.”

“Isn’t that a little late since he’s just murdered someone? Also, that seems…overly literal.”

“Yeah, well, it’s mythology. They’re all basically parables.”

“Isn’t that a type of graph?”

“No, it’s like…fables? Moral tales.”

“Sure. Okay. But that still doesn’t make sense, because it’s not like you just make a decision like that once and never get the chance to try again.”

“Well, take that up with Prodicus.”

Steve blows a raspberry, and Robin can picture him rolling his eyes in disdain.

“Do you want me to finish this story, or not? You can give your review at the end.”

Steve is silent for a beat. Squeezes her hand. “Yeah. Keep going.”

“Okay! So, he’s having trouble deciding which path to take, when these two women approach him. One claims to be ‘Happiness’—nicknamed Vice—and the other, Virtue. And each of them presents their case for why he should follow their path. Vice runs up to him first, promising a life of wealth and happiness, and freedom from hardship—”

Steve snorts.

“Have something to share with the class, Harrington?”

“You told me to wait until you were finished!”

“And yet you still interrupted me.”

“What, so I’m not allowed to make sounds?”

“Not like that!”

Steve shakes his head with a laugh. “You’re unbelievable! Keep telling me your little parabola, then.”

Robin rolls her eyes with a dramatic sigh. “Vice promises him untold riches and blah blah blah, and then Virtue comes up and tells him that there are no good things in life to be had without hard work and sacrifice, and that following her path is the only way his memory will be honored and immortalized in death.”

Steve lets out a small disapproving sound. “And? Which does he pick?”

“He picks Virtue, just like any good hero, right?” Robin’s goading him intentionally now, but it’s worth it for the way he actively works to stifle a groan of annoyance. “Anyway, then he starts going on various adventures as a big hero man. He helps defend a city against an invasion, and the king is like ‘here, marry my daughter’ as a reward.”

“Yikes.”

“Very. But the two of them end up being pretty happy together. They get a house, have lots of children. Happily ever after, right?”

“Something tells me the answer to that question is gonna be ‘no.’”

“Yeah, because Hera’s still obsessed with getting revenge. So she induces this, like, godly madness in him, which drives him to kill his wife and kids—”

“What the fuck!!”

Robin shrugs. “Like I said, Greek Mythology, man. Anyway, that’s how we get to the part of the story most people know: Heracles goes to the Oracle of Delphi and asks how he can atone for what he’s done, and that’s how we end up with the Twelve Labors of Heracles/Hercules.”

“Absolutely none of that made any sense. Why would going around killing a bunch of monsters make up for killing his entire family? Especially when it wasn’t even really in his control? Also, if this is how he ends up with his name getting immortalized or whatever, how is that any better than just choosing vice? He didn’t actually really sacrifice anything! His family did! If the way you get to have honor or glory or whatever is by killing your loved ones—even if you ‘atone’ for it later—how does getting those things make you any better than the person who chose happiness?”

“All great questions, young Padawan,” Robin says, affecting an exaggerated, sagely tone. “To answer the first one: arguably, it isn’t. The Oracle was basically working for Hera and sent Hercules to offer ten years of servitude to a king who hated him. As for the others: I don’t know, something to think on, I guess. But. It’s not like Hercules knew he was going to lose his family. And Vice’s path hinges on exploiting others.”

“I don’t know, it just sounds like either way you spin it he’s choosing a path based on what he thinks it’ll get him.”

“I think the way the Greeks thought about morality is probably different from how we do now.”

Steve makes a sort of disgruntled sound. “I guess that makes sense.” He sighs and presses his face into her shoulder. “So, tell me how these ‘labors’ go, then.”

She does, launching into dramatic retellings of Hercules slaying the Nemean Lion and the Hydra; capturing the Minotaur and the Erymanthian Boar; stealing Hesperides’ golden apples, and King Diomedes’ mares.

The music from the radio keeps playing in the background, a strange sort of backing track. Robin hasn’t been playing close attention to the songs as they roll through—just enough to notice that whoever’s in charge of the late-night programming has been doing the musical equivalent of throwing spaghetti at walls. It suits them, though. She’s halfway through regaling Steve with Hercules’ capture of Cerberus when conscious awareness of the music knocks into her by way of Steve bopping along to the opening bars of “Dancing in the Moonlight.”

He’s up and off the hood of the car before she can say anything.

“Steve!” she yells in protest as he yanks at her arm for her to join him. “I wasn’t done!”

“You can finish later! We’re not going to pass up the opportunity to literally dance in the moonlight when the universe decrees it, Bobbin!”

“There’s no moonlight tonight, dingus!”

“Starlight, then,” he says, shimmying his shoulders at her with a wide smile on his face.

And Robin is a lot of things, but immune to the delight of one Stephen Richard Harrington is not one of them. He starts doing a little swaying and snapping number, beckoning her to join him.

This was how the early seeds of their friendship were planted. Dancing to Dolly and Madonna as they mopped the floor; yelling and laughing together as they worked. It’s easy to slip back into. Into that space where Robin was just starting to see the first glimmers of who Steve Harrington could be—who he is. That time when she started to suspect that—maybe, just maybe—he could be something like a friend to her. Before they were SteveandRobin, sure, but also before they were trapped in a metal box with two kids they’d led into danger. Before Steve was bloodied and bruised for information he didn’t have. Before Robin learned that monsters were real, and the Russians were punching holes through reality to try to reach them. A time when—for once in Robin’s life—it felt like there was moonlight in the darkness of her life.

So she dances. Shoulders swaying, and feet tapping. Hips bumping with Steve’s. Lets him twirl her under his arm like he did in her kitchen last week while teaching her how to make the best grilled cheese sandwich of her life.

She smiles, and she laughs, and for a moment she forgets about heroes, and monsters, and gods.

Her cheeks are aching from smiling so hard, and even though it’s a short song, she’s panting with exertion by the end. It trails off into the night air, and Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade” fades into place.

This time she extends her hand to him, pulling Steve into her arms. She’s never been that great a dancer—clumsy, and awkward, with limbs that won’t heed her command—but she’d dragged her father to a father-daughter dance thing during the handful of years she was a Girl Scout, and she’d picked up some basics. Enough to know how to lead in a dance without structure.

Steve follows without comment, making himself smaller so he can tuck himself in against her. It actually makes it a little harder to steer them without occasionally stepping on Steve’s feet, but she takes it as the unspoken request to be held that it is, and she dances in the starlight with her best friend. Feels it sparkling through him.

She knows the constellations that dot his skin, the streaks and starbursts of light of his scars, and his nebulae of bruises. The stories written on his skin are just as mythic—just as full of heroism—and all the beautiful contradictions those things entail. And she hopes he knows it. Hopes that she can show him someday.

Notes:

This fic is in the same universe as my other Stobin-centric Summer Challenge fic, which you can read here, and to my Steve-centric fic lay your cuts and bruises over you skin, which can be read on AO3 here. I'm including this at the end since this fic works just fine as a standalone :) Also, my Classical Studies major partner feels it is imperative that I point out that Robin's description of myth vs. parable vs. fable is inaccurate. These are each distinct categories of stories, and not all of them have or are meant to have a moral. (She's right. Don't believe everything fictional teenagers say when explaining complicated concepts to other fictional teenagers :P )

taglist of people who have requested snippets of this as I worked on it! @devondespresso @theheadlessphilosopher @delta-piscium @steves-strapcollection @bifuriouswaterbender @spicysix @inairbinad and @starryeyedjanai. thanks for all the encouragement, pals!

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd # 6 - Fanfic Friday # 1

I'm trying something new for Brain Curds! Introducing Fanfic Friday, which is starting on a Saturday, but it's cool, my babies, it's very cool, because I wrote this yesterday! Including this part. You get it. This is my first time releasing fanfic - ever! I also haven't read anyone else's in this particular fandom, so go easy on me if I accidentally came up with the same idea as someone else. Enjoy.

A blonde woman with shoulder-length hair sat peacefully on a couch in a serene room. In front of her, painted on the wall in a most soothing shade of green, were the words, “Welcome! Everything is fine.” Though she couldn’t see them - her eyes were closed.

There was a double door to her left, and in the room on the other side there was a panicked and confused rustling. The woman’s eyes opened as if from slumber, and she looked around herself, pleased by what she saw and comforted by the sounds of windchimes and flowing water.

The door burst open, and a silver-haired man with a bow tied-suit and dark-framed glasses stepped out, nearly tripping over himself. He looked at her, then down at the papers in his hand, back and forth as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing. His mouth hung agape and he spoke.

“Eleanor? What are you doing here?!?”

The woman replied, confused. “I dunno, man, you’re the one who knows my name.” She looked down at her clothes and scoffed at them. “Did we hook up last night? Because this definitely isn’t my shirt.”

The man was speechless for a second. He ran his hands through his hair, thinking of what his next course of action should be. “Can you just wait right there for a moment?”

Without waiting for a response, he slammed the door shut behind him and braced himself against it, hyperventilating. It had been over one thousand Jeremy Bearimys since Eleanor walked through the final door - what was she doing back here? He ran to his desk and put in a call to the Judge.

A floating screen popped up into the middle of the room and a dark-skinned woman in a sweatshirt appeared on it, slightly annoyed, and took an earphone out.

“What do you want, Michael? I was just listening to a podcast episode about the Dennis the Menace guy. It’s crazy how terrible of a father he was.”

“Yes, if I recall correctly, it took him just shy of twelve-hundred tries to pass his afterlife test.”

“I’m thinking maybe that wasn’t enough, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

“I do, Judge, but I have something a little more important going on right now. Do you see this file?” He held it up to the screen. She leaned in close to read it.

“Why are you looking at Eleanor Shellstrop’s file?”

“Because she is sitting in the other room.” He mimed his head exploding. “You didn’t know about this?!?”

“No! Are the others back?”

“Not that I know of, but… oh geez.” He gripped his chest tightly. “Did we do something wrong when we made the final door? Janet!”

A purple-attired brunette popped into existence with a ‘bing’ sound. “Hi there!”

“Eleanor is in the other room.”

“What? That’s impossible. She walked through the final door, Michael. I watched her do it.”

“Then you go tell her that!”

Janet poked her head out into the other room and saw her sitting there - unmistakably Eleanor Shellstrop, who noticed Janet’s face sticking out of a crack in the door.

“Oh, is this your shirt?” She smirked. “I pulled some sexy unicorn hunters last night. Too bad I don’t remember.”

Janet closed the door. “Oh dip.”

Michael’s phone began to ring.

“Sorry, Judge, I’m gonna have to call you back.” He adjusted his glasses. “Vicky is calling.” He waved his hand and with one motion ended one call and started another.

“Michael, is this some kind of practical joke?”

“Probably not. What is it? I’ve kind of got a situation here.”

“Chidi Anagonye is on my docket for today’s souls! I run a tight ship, here, Michael! We don’t have time for pranks!”

Michael was stunned and pale. He looked like he’d seen a ghost - because he had.

“Janet?”

“Yes, Michael?”

“You’d better start looking around for Jason before he gets into trouble.” With a warm smile and fear in his eyes, he said “I think they’re all coming back.”

[tinylittlecubby]

I just had the WEIRDEST fucking dream about jj like?????????????????

Okay it was tied into another dream cause thats how dreams work but that part isn't important (I will say that someone was wearing 2 bags of frozen vegetables like they were dresses and yes there were still vegetables in the bags and yes they did get in trouble) but anyway!!! It changes to some brawl in the parking lot of someone's business and everyone needs to get the fuck out (but it was like a bunch of children and some adults I do not know why I was there or any other of the adults. I think the kids were trying to do some legit property damage so the adults were trying to stop them?) So jj (in a tesla for some reason I feel like THAT was unrealistic) drives me and him away from the scene but bro this nigga was SPEEDING!!!! Like got the attention of the police speeding. Like two other cars did aggressive u turns to avoid him speeding!! I literally started hyperventilating cause I HATE when people speed (specifically men, women scare me less when they speed in a car so my reaction is realistic) I tell jj to pull into a busy mall parking lot so we blend in with the rest of the cars and that somehow works. We are now just sitting in the car and I start talking about our relationship (didnt know we were involved but we roll) and I said "I'm scared you're going to hurt me" (yo I FELT SO for real vulnerable saying that in the dream it felt so real im never dating irl I woke up pissed off) and HE GOT POUTY AND UPSET 😡 he said "oh because we are getting more serious you are getting worried about these things" (first of all bitch! I have clinical paranoia issues and anxiety okay I've done been worried about this and 2 I can feel however I want to feel at any point in time and 3 you LITCHERALLY just out ran the police okay I do NOT find that hot its only hot when I do it,its irresponsible when other people do it. Unfortunately I did not say any of this in the dream.) What I said in response was essentially that "im not worried about you hurting me with your hands or words -even though fucking high key his reaction fucking pissed me off which is a type of hurt but I digress- which only leaves one type of you hurting me left and that is physically losing you. Like you dying" and then we started talking about it and he tried to break the tension by making a comment that I wont write here because I feel like its a comment that I shouldn't even be dreaming about (its enough im dreaming about the nigga but im not trying to read his life like that either) and during this i saw my older sister in the parking lot with her friends????? And then she saw me????? And then she came over and was like "haha ******* is with a guy romantically!" And honestly to that I say based,she was valid in that reaction cause outside of this dream thats never going to happen intentionally!! I will make sure of that!! But yeah thats pretty much where the dream ends but it was weird as fuck and whats sticking out to me is how pouty he got when I was vulnerable I felt like saying "fuck you!! I'm out" I was absolutely anticipating him being like "omg honey what have I done for you to think that oh no nono" but instead I had to pivot. I know in real life I would've gotten out the car and been like "yknow what bye boi im walking home have fun speeding in your iPad car" but I felt feelings for him???? Fucking gross. Not gross cause of who he is,he is an extremely attractive man in real life and I would most likely,like 98% break most of my rules for him in real life BUT it was just so antithetical to his public persona his reaction (but then again I dont know the man so it could've been actually spot on) honestly the first red flag that it was evil jj was the speeding away from the police,don't think he would do that irl. Anyway anyway anyway this is what you get when you stay up all night listening to the podcast amongstotherthingsthatilegallycannotdisclose

[xopinkroses]

Could I please request the dmc boys helping reader when they feel anxious/have a panic attack?

You don’t have to do this if your inbox is already pretty full but either way have a good day! :3

(It's a little short but I hope it's to your liking-- I've also thrown in V and Kyrie🌸 Thanks for the request! Be safe, babes💖💖)

DMC boys + V and Kyrie x Reader Having a Panic Attack♥

Summary; How Dante, Vergil, Nero, V and Kyrie help you through a panic attack. Warnings; Mental illness, panic attacks

MASTERLIST🌸

Dante

You often get anxious when Dante leaves for a job. No matter how much he reassures you before leaving, you can never shake the feeling of worry. You barely function when you’re in this state, thankfully he doesn’t tend to stay away for too long. Just as you worry for him, he is constantly thinking of you. He fights to get back home to you as soon as possible, not wanting you to be left alone for too long. 

He returns home earlier than expected and walks through the doors of Devil May Cry to find you huddled on the floor with your knees pulled into your chest. Dante curses and rushes to your side, dropping his weapons at the door. The smell of leather and gunpowder surrounds you as he holds you in his arms, rocking you back and forth while whispering soothing words in your ear. 

“Everything’s okay, babe. I’m back, I’m safe– there’s nothing to be worried about, I promise.”

Vergil

Vergil has had a few panic attacks in his life, even before being enslaved by Mundus loaded him with another spoonful of trauma. Back then, he never had anyone to comfort him when he would break down– but things are different now. You’ve helped him and taught him so much. And he wants to return to you the same kindness you showed him.

Vergil always asks before touching you when you’re in this state, keeping his movements careful and voice low. He laces his fingers with yours, and urges you to count with him. His voice is gentle as he counts with you. 

“One, two– that’s good, love. Three, four–” 

When your breathing has evened out and you’re in a calmer, more lucid state, he’ll brush your hair back and kiss your temple. Vergil makes sure that you’re comfortable before leaving momentarily to make you some tea. He won’t leave your side for the rest of the night, giving you plenty of time to tell him what’s been on your mind to have brought such an attack on. 

Nero

Nero feels his blood run cold the first time he walks in on you having a panic attack. His first instinct is to hold you close to him, like he’s trying to shield you from harm. Every strangled cry that leaves your lips ties his stomach in painful knots, he just holds you tighter. He feels so helpless and doesn’t know how to help. He’s panicking too, but trying his hardest to hide it from you. 

He’s comforting the both of you when he starts rambling about anything that comes to mind– his day, plans for tomorrow, something stupid Dante said the other day. His mouth is moving and words are spilling out but he’s not really hearing them, he’s just trying to distract you. Our boy’s clueless but he’s trying his best. 

V

V knew you were an anxious little thing from the first day he met you. He took it all in stride, honestly– He has a way with words and is usually able to comfort you with ease. But sometimes even he can’t talk you through your fears, because sometimes you aren’t thinking about anything in particular. A panic attack will just sneak up on you, and he’ll try his best to help you ride it out. 

He wakes up to quiet sobbing beside him. You’re curled into a ball beside him, body shaking as you hyperventilate. “Oh, my dear–” he doesn’t hesitate before placing his arms around you, his touch feather light. His calm voice lulls you back to sleep as he recites poetry to you. He watches over you as you sleep, watching out for any signs of nightmares. 

Kyrie

Kyrie takes care of you with a practised ease, knowing how to calm you down before you get too distressed. If you’re out in public she’ll lead you away from everyone and sit you down somewhere quiet. She gives you some personal space but keeps your numb hands in hers; massaging them and slowly bringing the feeling back to them. 

She sings sweetly to you, the same lullaby she sings to the children at the orphanage. Her beautiful voice works to loosen the tight coil in your chest, your breathing evens out and you squeeze her hands in silent thanks. 

“It’s okay, lovely,” she leans forward and lands a peck on your cheek. “I’m here for you– forever and always.”

~ 🖤

[dumbkatsu]

.......hello!

once again, your writing is a m a z i n g :)

may i request......any hcs to your liking,,,but with qi rong...? i haven't seen people request somethin for him on Tumblr yet?

[you don't have to do this request, if you don't want to-]

-anon, who managed to somehow misspell 'xie lian' in a request.

Hello again anon!!

kdfvhgdif it's ok it abt the misspelling happens to the best of us dw.

OMG, you really know how to stimulate my brain juice and bring me a new challenge!!! I've never written for a character like qi rong, let's do it!

I'm just gonna do some hc bcs idk how this will work out. I'm just gonna go with the flow but I'm excited to do this!!

TW: panic attack

Ok so this ancestor has the tagged tsundere slapped on his forehead so imma add a bit of that.

So you met when you were delivering water chestnuts to puqi shrine

Xie Lian wasn't present at the moment, only qi wrong, gu zi, and Lang Ying.

The two kids were playing outside and when they noticed you Gu Zi led you inside so you could put the heavy bag near the kitchen.

You heard some muffled screams and when you turned around a man was tied by some white bandages and he was thrashing violently

You approached him carefully and gently removed a strip from his mouth

Safe to say that qi rong was a bit held back because no one had touched him as gently as you in a long time

Especially in such a delicate place.

Your hands were softer than the most vibrant orchid petals. And your single touch so gentle

The feeling was fleeting and so his stunned face quickly changed to his usual demeanor

"WHAT WERE YOU WAITING TO UNTIE ME YOU UGLY HAG?"

To say that you weren't expecting such a sweet face to say those words is an understatement.

You kinda panicked so you swiftly swept the strip to cover his mouth again

Not changing the gentleness might I add.

You patted the two kids' heads and went on your way.

A couple of days later you returned to deliver a bag of rice as a payment for the help that Xie Lian and Hua cheng gave when helping your father's fields

And there he was again, but this time he was sleeping. He didn't have the strip of cloth on his face

After you carefully put down the rice you got near him.

It did make you think that his features were refined. Maybe he could have been a prince in another lifetime

You pushed away some of his hair away so you could have a better look.

Qi rong opened his eyes but for a second he thought he was still dreaming

You were so close to his face

He let out a scream

You screamed in fright and landed on your but

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? ARE YOU TRYING TO SEDUCE THIS ANCESTOR BY FORCE, YOU WRETCHED MORTAL?!?!"

You were hyperventilating a bit. Your chest was getting heavy and the room was spinning.

"I'm s-s-sorry I- I didn't mean t-to." your breathing was getting labored by the second and you started to lose focus.

"Dad Xiao Jie is not feeling well don't scream!" Gu zi said with a worried tone " Ha! Even you dare to order me around?! What an ungrateful son I have!!"

He threw a look at you and couldn't help but be reminded of when he was weak and powerless against the splendor of his cousin. When he tried to cultivate but ended up paling in comparison to even his cousin's servants.

He sighed "Aiya, hey look at me. Try to follow my breathing. Breathe in....breathe out.".

After a while, you calmed down and bowed to him " Thank you. I apologize for this."

His mouth was agape. No one has ever bowed to him out of gratitude and respect. Who were you? Why did you make him feel these new things? What did you want from him?

"Meh whatever, you look too weak anyway for me to have a satisfying meal" he said under his breath

"What?"

"What!?"

You huffed with a smile on your face " Well I thank you again gongzi" you bowed and left

Every week you payed a visit to puqi shrine. Bringing the kids and Qi Rong treats made by yourself.

You odly enjoyed listening to Qi rong talk and boasting about his deeds. He was a very funny narrator. He would go on tangents to trash people he didn't like and somehow he knew all of the gossips in the village.

Guess that sitting in the shrine all day doing nothing bettered his hearing skills.

He was also a pretty good listener. He gave great advice.

Although a bit extreme and dramatic, you knew the meaning he tried to convey.

And qi rong would never admit it but the best part of the week was when you came through those gates

Even Xie Lian started to realize that his rambunctious cousin started to be a bit calmer.

One day you were listening to him reciting a poem.

Yes I know it's odd but you were pestering him so much about it when he told you that he remembered a couple of poems from xianle that he conceded to your pleas just to shut you up.

And you did bring douhua...his favorite desert...

It tasted so much like the one his mother used to give him...

Qi Rong’s voice was soft as the autumn breeze swayed the leaves outside. The red, yellow, and orange tones mingled with the afternoon sun.

You couldn't help but fall asleep. You had done so many errands today. You were very tired. And his soft voice just lulled you to dreamland

Qi rong felt something hit his shoulder.

His breath was caught in his throat.

How could a measly mortal human look so ethereal and in peace as you looked now? Your lashes, your chubby soft cheeks, your hair swaying with the breeze. He couldn't bear to disturb you from sleep.

He huddled closer to try and provide you with more support and tried to give you a bit more warmth.

and without thinking, he pressed his lips to the crown of your head.

He realized what he did and sighed " Aiya what are you doing to me? I can't be going soft or else I'll be as pathetic as cousin crown prince..."

"But this is not that bad"

[spencers-renaissance]

a touch that never hurts

Summary: a rewrite of the Tobias Hankel aftermath, in which Spencer gets plenty of cuddles and physical affection from his father figure

Tags: aftermath of torture, hurt/comfort, platonic cuddling, whump, protective hotch, dad hotch, fluff, angst TW: brief mention of the non-con drug use that occurs in the Hankel arc, as well as the physical torture Spencer underwent

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid; Platonic

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Happy bonus fic Thursday :) I wrote this because I noticed how gentle and kind Hotch always is to the victims he rescues, and I was in the mood for some good, mushy Dad Hotch fluff. Title from Charles Dickens' Hard Times: "Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts."

When Spencer Reid falls into Aaron Hotchner’s arms — his feet whipped and bleeding, his veins throbbing with dilaudid, his body bruised and aching — he decides that he never wants to let go.

He’s spent countless hours at the mercy of three different personalities, only one of them even close to resembling something kind, and all he could think while he was tied up in that chair was how much he ached to be held and comforted by the man he trusts most in this world.

So when Hotch saves him — and he does; he sent that message directly to him and it was heard loud and clear — he can’t help that he breaks down, that he cries into his shoulder in front of the entire rescue party, that he falls apart in the most painful way possible, until he’s not sure he can ever be put back together again. But when Hotch speaks soothingly into his ear, caressing his hair with the gentle touch of a father, he thinks that maybe he can be. Maybe he’ll somehow make it out of this in one piece.

He’s driven promptly to the hospital, of course. He’d anticipated an ambulance, but apparently it’s harder than you’d think to get an ambulance to a crime scene at 3am with absolutely no notice in deep, rural Georgia.

Derek drives, eyeing him anxiously in the rearview mirror, and Spencer sits glued to Hotch, refusing to be separated from him for even a second. He considers vaguely that he should probably be embarrassed of that fact, but he can’t find the energy. Not when Hotch is sitting just as closely; seemingly matching his need to be comforted with his own need to protect.

“It’s gonna be okay, Spencer,” Hotch murmurs, a little too quiet for Derek to hear over the noise of the car engine. “I promise.”

Spencer doesn’t say anything. He’s not entirely sure he believes him. Instead, he just burrows closer into Hotch and hides his face from the soft illumination of passing car lights and the sporadic street lights of rural Georgian roads.

He accepts the wheelchair Derek runs in to grab from the hospital because his feet are suddenly screaming in agony. When he’d had to stumble through the graveyard behind Tobias Hankel’s cabin, the adrenaline had prevented him from feeling the true extent of his injuries, but now, with the adrenaline seeping out of him like a river through a broken dam, he can feel every single fractured bone, bruised patch of skin, abused and broken tendon.

Panic immediately arises when he sits down in the chair, though. All of a sudden, he doesn’t have that connection he’s had to Hotch since he was rescued, and he’s almost instantly on the verge of hyperventilation until Hotch crouches down in front of him.

“Hey, Spence,” he says gently, patient and soothing in a way the team doesn’t often get to see. “I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. How about I hold your hand?”

Spencer nods, and Hotch smiles at him encouragingly before giving the nod for Derek to push the chair towards the Emergency entrance. Hotch’s hand clutches tightly at Spencer’s, and he squeezes his eyes closed against the panic, against the memories, against the fear of what’s to come, and focuses all his energy on the firm, unwavering connection he has to Hotch.

It makes the minutes that it takes them to cross the parking lot bearable, and he’s grateful for that much.

As soon as Hotch explains the situation to the ER doctor that greets them at the door, Spencer is rushed into an examination room.

“I’ll wait outside, Spence,” Derek promises. “I’ll be right here.”

Hotch doesn’t let go of his hand.

They examine his feet first, using a portable x-ray machine to find three broken bones overall. Spencer cries when he hears that. Knowing they’re broken doesn’t change how much they hurt or how scary the situation feels, but it is a tangible acknowledgement of the torture he’s just been put through, and he thinks that that’s probably enough to make most people cry.

“It’s alright, Spencer,” Hotch soothes him, laying his palm on his forehead and smoothing it over his hair gently, slowly. “I’m right here. The doctors are going to help you out.”

“The good news is that most of the fractures are fairly minor,” the doctor explains. “You’ll need a cast for your right foot since the damage to the metatarsal bones is much more significant, but most of the damage overall appears to be torn tendons and bruised muscles, which means plenty of rest and a simple brace or boot on the left foot should do the trick.”

She smiles encouragingly at him, but he barely reacts. He’s so tired. It feels like he’s not even in the room; the only tether to reality being the soothing hand in his hair and the occasional whispers of support.

They treat his feet before sending him off to a CT scanner to check that the rest of his injuries are minor enough to heal on their own, and rule out internal bleeding. Spencer cries the whole twenty two minutes, because this time Hotch can’t hold his hand. He’s stuck watching through the observation window, trying not to cry himself as he listens to Spencer’s sobs over the intercom.

Thankfully, he manages to stay still enough to ensure clear enough images of his body to confirm that rest and pain medication should take care of the rest of his injuries.

A specialist comes round to talk to him about withdrawal. He’s been moved to a room on the assessment ward, which is at least a little more comfortable than the bay in the Emergency Room, but it still feels foreign and frightening, and he’s had quite enough of that in the last few days, thank you very much. At least Derek’s been allowed to join them now. He feels safer with both of them as close to him as humanly possible.

“The good news,” the doctor starts — and God, Spencer wishes they would stop associating any of this with the word ‘good’ — “is that you haven’t taken enough doses to become truly dependent on the drug, which should make your withdrawal easier. I’m prescribing buprenorphine, clonidine, acetaminophen, and ondansetron, which when combined, should make your symptoms significantly more bearable. We do advise that you stay with somebody—”

“He’ll be staying with me,” Hotch interrupts firmly, both of his hands clasped warmly around Spencer’s as he eyes the doctor with an unwavering gaze.

“Well, that’s perfect, then,” the doctor says cheerily. It feels grossly misplaced. “You’ll need to prepare for the coming symptoms and ensure that he has no way to get his hands on more dilaudid.”

Spencer resents the doctor for saying that. He has no desire to inject more of that poison into his veins: it might have been a pleasant distraction when he was being whipped and beaten and forced to choose someone to die, but now that he’s back with his family, now that he’s safe, the last thing he wants is to keep reminding himself of that god-awful man in that god-awful cabin.

He doesn’t say anything, though. He just closes his eyes to try and smother the turbulent emotions threatening to show on his face.

“That won’t be a problem,” Hotch confirms.

They wait for an hour in relative silence, Spencer enjoying the solace of a safe, quiet room with the people he considers protectors both holding his hands and soothing him when panic threatens to overwhelm him, before the discharge doctor comes round. She checks him over one last time, before helping him into a wheelchair, handing him his medication, and wheeling him towards the entrance.

Derek goes ahead once they reach the airstrip where everybody’s been waiting to go home and herds them onto the jet first to give Spencer some privacy going up the stairs.

“Are you okay for me to carry you?” Hotch asks as he climbs out of the car first, speaking gently as he has done since he rescued him.

Spencer nods. Of course he is. It means he’s even closer to Hotch.

Hotch carries him the short distance between the parked jeep and the jet before ascending the stairs as carefully as possible, making sure Spencer’s feet don’t so much as brush the railing. He sets him down on the sofa, but Spencer clings to his hand, looking at him desperately as he tries to get him to understand what he needs. Thankfully, he’s obvious enough that Hotch simply smiles and sits down on the sofa with him.

They get settled in a horizontal position, Spencer resting his head on Hotch’s chest as he revels in the feeling of safety that having both of his arms wrapped around him provides. A gentle hand finds its way to Spencer’s hair again, and he closes his eyes against the relaxing feeling, exhaustion finally catching up to him.

He vaguely hears some quiet laughter in the background, and he’s been with the team long enough to predict the raised eyebrows and teasing expressions on their faces.

“You’ve gone soft,” Derek accuses warmly, making sure to keep his voice down, and the others chuckle in agreement.

“Wait until Penelope hears about this,” JJ teases quietly.

Hotch laughs, and Spencer feels the pleasant vibrations against his cheek. It makes him feel even warmer inside than he did before. “You wouldn’t dare.” Spencer imagines the smile on his face and burrows closer to him.

“It’s a good thing, Hotch,” Emily chimes in, her voice bright and easy. Spencer really likes her. “It’s nice to see this side of you.”

“Well, you’d better savour the moment because it won’t happen again.”

He must feel Spencer’s panicked tensing, the way his muscles go rigid and his breath hitches, because he rushes to add, “unless Spencer needs it of course.” His hands resume their gentle caresses of his back.

“I’d do anything if Spencer needed it,” he murmurs, and the team might hear, but the words aren’t for them.

Spencer hears them loud and clear, and somehow — when he thought only hours ago that he might never be put back together — he falls asleep feeling calm and safe, with a small, hopeful little smile on his face.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @enbyspencer @reidology @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @tobias-hankel @hotchscotchh @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @cmily @notevanbuckley (add yourself to my taglist here!)

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝓐𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓻𝓪 𝓐𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓶: 𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖, 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 × 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟹𝙺

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚄

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

I breathed out an airy and desolate sigh through my nose, obviously I unconsciously did it a little too loud as the raven haired male sitting across from me looked down at the floor.

"It was all my fault.....wasn't it?"

I looked up, the glasses sitting on my nose bridge tilting slightly that I had to push them back up so I could study his features, or should I say, his expressions. His eyelids never blinked once, his eyes were trained on the pattern of the carpet underneath him, but I knew his mind was elsewhere. I looked with pity at the bandages wrapped around his wrists, some of the edges stained with fresh blood. I gulped slightly, my stomach threatening to spill out my meager lunch of an apple and avocado toast slice from earlier. I could handle hearing patients tell and retell me about how they stabbed their parents to death, cut off their significant other's genitals because they were unloyal to them, even tackled a deranged lunatic that once tried to...... seduce me to put mildly.......

But to this day, I can't help but get dizzy when I treat or deal with patients who are self harming victims, because yes, they are victims. Victims of their own self loathing, guilt, and depressive state that isn't their fault. It just pains me so much to see them resort to such drastic measures...

But I'm also not stupid and know some, if not most only do it for attention or to manipulate others, and Yunho is a case not far from it. Which is why I was the one sent to deal with him. All the other psychologists would have fallen for his sad puppy eyes, good looks, well built physique and would have released him too early into the world. Not that he's dangerous and a threat to society, but he's not emotionally nor mentally stable to go deal with daily life yet. And I'm not a softie by any means even if I'm patient and meek doctor when necessary. But I'm objective and I seek deeper into the true person hiding behind the front they put in front of me.

"Do you believe it was your fault Yunho?" Usually one would get scolded for answering a question with a question, but I prefer this method in order to get my patients to reason and draw out their own conclusions......

And makes them pour out their true answers.

I watch Yunho ponder for a moment.

"It has to be- otherwise she wouldn't have...wouldn't have-"

He bites back a choked sob, teeth tightening and gritting against themselves as he fails to contain his tears. His hands cover his face as he begins to cry uncontrollably, desperate and heartwrenching wails resonating throughout the 4 walls keeping us company. Reaching for the purple plaid box on the coffee table between us, I take out a few tissues and stand up from my seat. Lightly tapping on his shoulder, I whisper a 'here' to him. He thanks me, but since he's crying too hard no sound comes out his throat. For the next few minutes, he's blowing out his runny nose, all red just like his eyes from crying too hard. He's sniffling while trying to control his previous hyperventilating session. I want to hug him or at least give him a pat in the back. But I can't, I can only sit back and try to imagine the agony he's probably going through, try to put myself in his shoes as I dive deep into the event that got him here in the first place:

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Coming back from a trip to the store, Yunho momentarily looks around confused when he heard his baby daughter crying. Quickly putting the bags on the kitchen counter, he makes his way over to the nursery that adjoined the main bedroom. Calling out for his wife, he receives no response as he walks down the hallway. He calls once more for her but stops midway as he opens the slightly ajar door. His heart stops beating and his veins run cold as he stares into the lifeless body of his beloved wife hanging in the room, feeling as if the oxygen is being ripped out from his lungs, suffocating slowly.

As if sensing his agitation, his daughter's cries from the other room grow louder, so much that they raise concern from their next door neighbor, a kind and sweet old lady who more than once has offered her help in watching over the child or help them out in any way she could. Typing in the passcode, she makes it there just in time to stop the tall male from inflicting more harm upon himself as he holds onto his wife's body in agony. Having been left with no choice, she immediately calls for an ambulance, who arrive there shortly and take him to a nearby hospital.

He was monitored 24/7 as he had a history of attempted suicide before. The nurses and doctors didn't want another episode to happen again, not wanting to leave a barely 1 year old fatherless as well as motherless. As an investigation went, police found a journal hidden deep between the mattresses on the bed. When they poured over the first pages, they knew there was much more to the story than just a doting husband who couldn't live without his wife, hence why he was relocated to the infamous asylum......

And a specialized woman was tasked to not only unmask the truth, but hopefully help a poor broken mind be put back together again.

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Hence why I'm here now, the folder I had read over and over again still on my lap. It honestly amazed me that I'd actually get to work on a case like this, and of course I took up the challenge of digging into a mind like Yunho's, not just to help him, but to leave a precedent for any other situations like this that came after.

"A precedent?" I remember the officer asking me.

"Yes. You'd be surprised just how common these types of toxic relationships there are in an everyday basis yet no one ever looks deeper because they're too focused treating a depressed person who's trying to kill themselves and don't focus on what they really are...."

Shutting the folder, I tucked it under my arm before turning on my heel.

"A manipulative individual who'll do anything to keep someone tied to them forever."

That's how I viewed Yunho, it's how I should be viewing him. At least until I could hopefully get him to change.

"How's......is my daughter ok?"

I let out a soft hum and nod as I scribbled something down on the notepad.

"She's fine. We're having someone take care of her in the meantime, don't worry."

Yunho let out a sigh of relief, fingers fidgeting against his thighs as he mustered up the courage to say something.

"Could I.....could I please see her?"

From the sad look in my eyes he could already tell the answer was negative.

"I'm sorry Yunho....I'm afraid until we see some improvement, we can't allow you to be reunited with her just yet."

I tried to keep my voice steady as I said that, bracing myself to possibly see him breakdown once more. He had already lost his wife and now learning that his only child was forced away from him could possibly send him spiraling down into another episode.

But Yunho instead took a deep breath and seemed calm.

"I understand.....it's ok..." I knew he was saying those last two words more to himself than to me.

Lifting his face up, he suddenly shocked me by looking so bright and rather happy.

"So I guess it's best if we begin right?"

Even to this day, I don't know whether I should have been delighted to have such a compliant patient.....

Or terrified.

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"Tell me Yunho, what was your first reaction when you saw your wife?"

A subtle hint of a smile curled at the corners of his lips.

"I thought she was the kindest and most caring person in the world, very pretty too. She just walked in and the room instantly lit up."

He was reminiscing about those times, I could tell. That fond look on his face was unmistakable.

"Do you believe you fell in love at first sight with her?"

His smile suddenly dissipated, eyebrows scrunching together as if recollecting memories from so long ago.

"I think.......I felt attracted to her.....but.....I don't think it was love?"

I could tell he felt conflicted with himself, but that's exactly what I wanted. I want him to question every feeling and sensation he felt at the moment so he could decide for himself if it was real or just a mere illusion he held. If he starts to second guess or question what he felt then he'd start reasoning and come to the conclusion that what he felt was wrong and mistaken. He'd see that his actions weren't justified.

"So when do you truly believe you fell in love with her?"

I stopped writing on my notepad and watched him close his eyes as he tried to pinpoint the exact time he felt whatever he thought was love.

"One night....one of our friends was feeling down in spirits. I witnessed how caring she was towards them...kindly reassuring them that they were loved, that they mattered. I vividly remember her kind eyes and loving smile as she comforted them. Then it hit me that she was that kind of person. Selfless, caring, doting, would sacrifice anything for her friends and family...... it was hard for anyone not to fall in love with her."

He turned his hand over, studying the wedding ring that he still wore to this day, the engravings of their initials being his prime interest.

"And at that moment I knew I had to have her. I couldn't let anyone else have her. I wanted her.... that love, compassion, empathy..her confidence and strong nature, I wanted-"

He stopped mid sentence and his eyes wizened in horror as he came to the realization I had foreseen long ago. He looked up at me, meeting my unwavering eyes that held no emotion at that moment.

"She had all the qualities I had always lacked in."

I took my glasses off and nodded.

"And I unconsciously wanted them for myself.... but the only way I could have them was...through her?" He seemed sickened with himself.

"Not exactly Yunho. You could have learnt to love yourself and raise your self esteem." I quickly scribbled my observation down.

"But I didn't. Instead I caged her up and slowly tore her down."

I couldn't help but let out an involuntary smile as he drew out that conclusion.

"Glad to know you've accepted that fact, even if it took several months for you to understand."

Shutting the notepad, I lifted myself up from my chair, straightening my blouse. Yunho followed suit.

"Is our session over?" He was always so polite, always escorting me out and holding the door open for me, which other doctors would have adamantly refused, too scared to come close to their patients. But not me. I let them have certain liberties at times.

"Not yet Yunho. As you've made remarkable progress, I got permission for you to see someone."

He was momentarily confused for a split second. Poor thing probably thought it was one of the nurses coming in to give him some new medication to take, which he hated with a passion. Stepping outside for a brief moment, I happily took the young baby in my arms, the little girl already used to seeing me as I always went to go see her after being with Yunho for a few hours. When I came back inside he had his back turned to me, once again staring off into nowhere. The light gurgled babbles the baby emitted caught his attention immediately. He whipped his head around so fast I thought he'd break his neck for a second. He teared up as the child began squealing in excitement as she recognized her father right away.

"Oh my-" He choked up with tears that he couldn't finish his sentence.

I calmly walked over to him, lightly bouncing the baby in my arms. Yunho hesitantly reached his hands out.

"Can I..?" He had such a hopeful glint in his eyes.

I didn't answer, I merely held his daughter out to him. As soon as she felt his embrace, she latched onto him as if he was one of the teddy bears she often slept with. Perhaps he was one.

No....he is one.

In my time of spending time with Yunho, I've come to strongly believe he is a sweet and tender individual. And judging by the way the little girl feels safe in his arms, I do believe he is capable of being truly loved.....

If he learns how to properly love not just someone else, but himself too.

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Stepping out of my car, I quickly grab the small pink bag on the passenger seat before locking it. Treading through the small patch of green grass, I ring the doorbell and wait for one of the occupants to open up for me. No surprise, I'm greeted by the same raven haired male I met nearly 3 years ago. He looks delighted to see me.

"Y/N. Hi!"

I wave at him, a small but genuine smile on my features.

"Hi Yunho. Did I come at a bad time?" I notice the apron covered in flour and leftover egg on it.

"Oh no not at all. Please come in."

Moving aside to let me pass, my nose catches the scent of baked goods filling the air. I can distinctly recognize the hints of lavender and french vanilla, an odd but surprisingly tasty combination. I spot out of the corner of my eye a little head peeking out from the kitchen, curious to know who had come to pay them a visit. Letting out a squeal, she quickly ran over to attach herself on my leg.

"Y/N!"

I chuckled and lightly run my fingers through her hair which was longer than the last time I saw it.

"Hi Jina, I see you've been baking something." We both chuckle as I scraped off some cake batter that had gotten on the tip of her button nose.

"Me and dad are making cupcakes for my friend's birthday party tomorrow." She explained.

"Wow that's a really nice gesture. I bet they'll turn out delicious."

Remembering that I was short on time and that I had one last task to carry out, I pull out the bag I had hidden behind my back and hand it to her.

"It's for you."

Her eyes began to sparkle so much they could rival all the stars in the galaxy. After thanking me like 20 thousand times, she plopped her tiny body on the couch to tear into the contents inside it. I shake my head before taking out a small paper from inside my trench coat.

"And this is for you."

Taking the slip from my fingers, Yunho opens it up and scans what it says. He seems confused for a moment, not fully understanding what it means. He looks to me once more, probably for the last time, asking for an explanation.

"It's your official release from the institution. No more drop in visits, no more eyes on you 24/7, and soon you won't have to continue with the prescribed medication, although when that happens they will send someone once in a while to check up and make sure you're ok without them."

Yunho nods but it is a rather sad and pained nod.

"So this means you won't be seeing us any longer?"

I inhale deeply and nod.

"This was a temporary thing until you got better Yunho. After all....I was only the doctor assigned to you."

It hurt me to say that as much as it probably hurt him, as much as it'd hurt Jina to know I wouldn't be coming back anymore.

"Can't we at least be friends?"

I hated seeing those puppy eyes of him practically beg me, signature trait he passed on to his daughter.

"That would be completely unprofessional of my part Yunho. I deeply cherish and treasure all the time we spent together and I'm beyond happy and satisfied that you've come so far since the start of our journey..."

I sighed deeply.

"But every journey has an end." He finished my sentence.

Extending his hand out to me, I took it and gave it a firm shake.

"I'm really going to miss you." He admitted.

"Me too. Me too."

Going over to the momentarily forgotten 4 year old, she let out an 'oof' when she suddenly found herself cooped up in my embrace.

"Take care of yourself and of your dad ok?"

I kissed the top of her head, her grinning face not registering that this might be the last time she ever saw me. Yunho walked me out the door and even escorted me all the way to my car. Always the gentleman, he held the door open for me. Before I could even get one foot inside, I felt a large hand grip my wrist. Turning to him, I was flustered when he suddenly pulled me close to him.

"Please don't leave. I need you....I..."

He looked conflicted with himself as he tried to finish his words. Taking a deep breath, he confessed:

"I love you."

My heart sank. He said the 3 words I hoped he'd never direct at me. Mainly because I was scared as he was. Don't get me wrong, Yunho is a wonderful man, and he truly deserves to be loved....

But am I certain that he has finally learned to love? Or is it because he feels he needs me?........

Only one way to find out.

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[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 59

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 4,078

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

*HIATUS WARNING*

This will be my last chapter update until the end of July or very beginning of August, due to me joining Camp Nano. If people are interested, I can link my nano page HERE if you want to see what progress I make. I haven’t created a Camp project goal yet, but I’ll be adding it soon. 

Clearing the Board

You stared at Negan in shock for a long moment, your brain’s frantic whirring grinding to a screeching halt as the subconscious watched with mouth so agape that the gum it had been chewing fell unnoticed to the floor. 

Had he been thinking the same questions as you the entire dinner? Part of you wanted to bolt, terrified to know what was on his mind. Was this where he pulled the rug out from under you and said things were getting too cozy, that he wanted to back track? Did he want to go back to his wives? Or maybe he wanted to try and make you into another one of them? 

Breathe. Just breathe and see what he has to say, before you start hyperventilating. 

Clearing your throat and licking suddenly dry lips, you hoarsely said, “Uh...yeah...we do.” 

As if this was the permission he was waiting for, he gave a curt nod and started talking. He was so focused and straight to the point that you wondered if he had rehearsed this prior to you showing up. If so, he had done a much better job of preparing than you had. 

“I wanted to apologize for last night. Not just for the way I attacked you, though I do fucking apologize for that, but for how I acted after.”

At this, he paused and ran a hand slowly down over his mouth and beard, and you realized how difficult this conversation was for him, how much he still struggled to be open and honest and sincere with another human when he’d had to learn the hard way to be tough and mean and impenetrable. It made you feel validated regarding your own struggles, as well as grateful that both of you were stepping outside your comfort zones and trying to communicate. 

“Doll, there’s just some shit that I don’t like to fucking relive. It has to happen, whether I fucking want it to or not, and once it’s done, it’s done. I don’t always want to rehash events, or talk about how I feel, because the answer is probably that I feel like fucking horse shit. It’s nothing personal against you, it’s just me wanting to fucking move on. The same way you told me the other night that I gotta trust you not to always give me all the fucking details? Well, same goes when the shoe’s on the other fucking foot.”

You sat there and took this in, brain having pulled out a tablet to take frantic notes, and subconscious still staring in shock with its foot unknowingly stepping right in the middle of the dropped gum wad. Of all the ways for tonight’s conversation to go, no part of you had expected Negan to not only take the lead, but go in the correct direction needed to pulverize one of the newly-created questions you had thrown into the padlocked box. 

Once he said the words out loud, it did make a lot of sense. You had seen it as wanting to connect with him and support him, if he would just explain what had happened on the run to upset him. However, some things might be better left unsaid, so as not to make the person relive the events and the emotions tied to them. What you had seen as him shutting you down was actually him trying to move on from unsavory events (and actions he’d had to complete in his role as leader). Add to that his comparison to your conversation the other night, where you had expected him to be okay with you not giving all details about certain events, and you couldn’t believe how much you had blown his recent actions out of proportion.

You had been quiet for a few long moments, during which he was watching you closely. He tried to make his expression neutral, but the unnatural stillness of his tensed body and the focused intensity of his hazel gaze gave away how much weight he was putting on what your response might be.

 Picking your words carefully, you broke the silence. “Thank you for explaining that, because I did wonder why you turned down my offer to talk last night. I respect your right to not tell me everything about what you have to do in order to keep control of the Sanctuary and other communities. However,” you held his gaze, making sure he saw your sincerity. “I want you to know that I’m always here for when and if you do want to talk about it. Any of it.” 

He was unresponsive for a few seconds, as if the tables had turned and now he was the one a bit surprised at how calm and clearly you had voiced your agreement. Then, a soft smile broke across his face, and he said, “I know you are, doll.”

You gave a small smile, beyond relieved to have that topic discussed and out of the way. Your brain was proud of the two of you for talking it out, while the subconscious was preoccupied with cursing and hopping around on one foot while frantically trying to use a stick to scrape the smeared gum off the bottom of its shoe. Like it, you now flailed about for how to move on to other concerns. The door of communication had been opened, and you didn’t want him to slam it shut now that the thing he’d wanted to get off his chest was done. 

“There’s some other things I think we need to talk about,” you said. When his eyebrows raised in a nonverbal for you to continue, you started nervously fidgeting with your dinner napkin.

Shit, where did you even start? How to accurately say what you were thinking and feeling about this relationship with him. He had obviously noticed you pulling back that day in the woods, and while you had been quick to start blurting your feelings when in a post-orgasmic haze, the words now stuck in your throat and refused to come out. 

That ball of self-doubt was creeping in, telling you to shut the box back up and get out of there. It whispered how maybe now that Negan had fucked you, the “game” was almost over and he wouldn’t be as interested. That the moment you started placing expectations on the two of you, he’d tell you to leave his rooms and not come back. 

Looking down at the napkin, which was now twisted and crumpled from anxious hands, you tossed it down on the table and abruptly stood up, unable to continue the farce of sitting still. You pushed the chair into the table and stood there for a few seconds before giving a frustrated groan and pacing over to his armoire and back. 

It was quite the role reversal, you pacing back and forth while he sat there, silently watching. Your hands gestured wildly in front of you, as if trying to act out what you couldn’t say. You started to talk a few times, but it came out as a sputter of nothingness, causing you to pace back and forth yet again. After a couple rounds of this, you finally stopped behind the dinner chair, hands gripping the back of it until your knuckles turned white. The two of you stared at one another, his forehead furrowed in concern at your mini meltdown.

“Doll,” he said, voice low and calming. “Tell me.” 

Just say it. Tell him you’ve fallen for him. 

But you couldn’t. The emotions were right there, but it didn’t feel right to just blurt them out. Three little words that some people tossed around like pennies, and you couldn’t say them when it mattered. 

You looked at him desperately, willing him to throw a lifeline and take back over the conversation, to tell you to forget it and act like this moment had never happened. Instead, he finally moved into action, standing from his own chair and rounding the small table to stand in front of you. 

He didn’t reach out, didn’t try to hold you, as if he knew that the slightest touch would cause your taut as a bowstring form to burst into a million pieces. His hands instead clenched at his sides in a nonverbal show of restraint. He knew that whatever you were struggling with was important, while at the same time realizing he couldn’t force it, and that the direction of the conversation depended entirely on you. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” 

There was more authority to his tone this time, but it was the slight hint of worry making it go up in pitch at the end that propelled your own voice to finally get its shit together and start working. 

“There’s nothing wrong, I just…I don’t know how to say it.”

“Fucking say what? You’re killing me here, doll.” 

You looked at him, took in this strong and seemingly impenetrable, yet surprisingly caring and passionate man who had shattered all of the emotional defenses you had strategically built in order to keep yourself safe. And suddenly, you knew exactly how to tell him in a way that he, and only he, would understand. 

“Remember when you said that the game is over when the king is captured?”

Surprise flickered in his gaze, as he obviously wasn’t expecting that to come out of your mouth. However, he quickly caught up, giving a curt nod. 

“I know technically the queen is expendable, and the game can continue on without her, but-” voice cracking a bit, you paused to take a deep breath before continuing. “What the hell does one do when the opposite happens?” 

You saw the moment the realization hit, making him go completely still. Saw the moment he pieced everything together but still held back, as if afraid maybe he was misinterpreting it. 

His face looked wrecked when he husked, “What are you saying, doll?”

Emotion welled in your eyes as you verbally let go, whispering the confession that had been held in for long enough. 

“The king’s captured me.”

He broke the physical distance then, his eyes bright with emotion as he wrapped one arm around your waist and cupped your face with a warm palm. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on your lips that was so soft and gentle you almost wanted to cry. When he lifted his head, you felt overwhelmed by the adoration in his gaze, but that was nothing compared to the words he then spoke.

“Well doll, I’d say that’s only fucking fair, since the queen’s captured me too.”

Shock coursed through you, followed by a rush of emotion so strong it would’ve knocked you on your ass if he wasn’t there to clutch onto. 

He feels the same! Holy fuck, not only did he understand, but he also feels the same!

The two of you kissed again, long and slow, until your surroundings faded away and there was only him. It could’ve been mere moments or long minutes before your lips parted from his, as time currently had no meaning outside the count of his breaths on your face and beat of his heart under your palm flattened on his chest. 

You felt dizzyingly happy, and the padlocked box was tons of pounds lighter. However, there were still a few spiky balls of questions sitting in the bottom of it, and it was time to empty them out. All of them. 

“So,” you said, fingers tracing up over his exposed collarbone and strong throat. “What happens next, after the king and queen capture each other?”

Giving a much softer version of his usual devilish smirk, he replied, “They lay down their weapons, recall their fucking armies, and rule the board together.” 

Grinning like a fool at that, you wound your arms up around his neck and murmured hesitantly, “So what does that mean for the others? What does the king do with the five of them?”

Once again, the metaphor was not lost on him, and you felt the slightest stiffening of his body against yours as he pulled his lips from where they had been tracing along your ear lobe and looked down at you. 

Shit, did you go too far? Maybe you should’ve just stopped while you were ahead and not crossed into that topic of conversation just yet…

“What do you want me to do with them, doll?” 

You definitely weren’t expecting that as a response, as shown by your staring blankly up at him for a few seconds before saying, “Isn’t that your choice?”

He gave an amused tsk of disapproval. “No, that’s not how it works when we both rule the board. Each partner gets a say, and then we figure it out together.”

Did he just...call you… “Is that what I am?” you asked, heart inflating like a bubble at the possibility. 

“I mean, we can stick with just calling you my queen, if that’s what you want, but I think partner also has a nice fucking ring to it.” 

His partner. Not his wife, or girlfriend. Partner. 

Stretching up to give him a kiss of approval, you said, “Partner is perfect.” 

Deciding to go all in, you added, “And I only want you, no one else. I want you to be the person I snuggle up against each night, and the one whose bed I wake up in each morning knowing that I belong there. I want to walk proudly beside you and know that you’re mine, as much as I’m yours.” You hesitated, a small dart of worry at the brutally honest words making you feel the need to ask, “But what do you want?”

The playful light was back in his eyes, that sinful tongue running over his bottom lip. “I thought I already made that fucking obvious, doll. But if I didn’t, then listen very closely.” 

His lips traced over your face, leaving butterfly kisses on your cheeks and nose and forehead as he spoke the words. “I want you. Fucking simple as that. I’ve wanted you, and only you, since the day you fucking kicked my ass at chess.” 

This was technically information you already knew, thanks to Trixie, but hearing it from him made it that much more real. It was as if even though all the signs were there, you still didn’t want to fully believe you were the reason for his change in behavior with the wives, not until he confirmed it himself. 

Trying to add a bit of lightness, you hummed in pleasure at his lips kissing the sensitive spot on the curve of your neck and quipped, “Who knew all it would take was a game of chess for me to stand out.”

Giving a huffed laugh, he said against your skin, “If you think that’s the only way you fucking stand out, you’re even more oblivious then I fucking thought.” 

“Hey! Are you telling me I’m weird or something?” you laughed, playfully tugging at his hair so that he raised his head to look at you. 

“Wellllll…” he joked, smiling broadly before his expression got a bit more serious. “In all honesty, doll, I’ve respected the hell out of you since the moment you arrived here.”

Eyebrows raising, you said, “Oh? Do go on.”

His eyes danced with mirth, but his words were uncharacteristically sincere. “Despite being scared shitless when my men first found your little group, you never fully submitted or lost your fight. You marched right into the Sanctuary like you were gonna own the whole fucking place, or at least own the kitchen, which you did in a ridiculously short amount of fucking time, I might add. I felt like a fool for asking you to be another wife and expecting you’d be happy just sitting around looking pretty.”

You gave a haughty grin, but let him continue, knowing that confessions such as this were few and far between with Negan. And you were going to soak in every affectionate word like a desert does the rain, because as much as the actions and nonverbals fed your heart, his words were what now fed your soul. 

“I knew you’d be trouble the the first time I walked in the kitchen to check on things and you refused to fucking kneel with the others, staring me down in a way that said you were demanding to be treated at my equal, and just daring me to try and fucking do something about it. It was that same daring each time we were alone that drew me in like fucking catnip, and while the smart thing would’ve been to stay away, when I found you out in the fucking woods about to be walker chow and totally going against my orders, it gave me the perfect opportunity to force you closer. I knew I should stop sending for you, stop finding reasons to visit the kitchen or order you to bring me trays, but damn doll, you were too fucking exciting to walk away from.

“The day you beat me at chess, you were so fucking proud of yourself, and I realized that instead of being pissed, I was proud of you too. I knew I had a spitfire on my hands, and damn if that didn’t make my dick hard.” His voice lowered a bit, so that you held your breath in order not to miss a single word. “But it wasn’t until that first outing together in the woods, when you killed that walker and saved my fucking hide, that I realized I was done for. That I might as well throw down my crown because the king had been captured, and the game was over.”

You thought back to that day, to the kiss and the look in his eyes afterward. Had you known back then? Possibly, but you never would’ve admitted it to yourself, not at that point. You felt a lump start to form in your throat, eyes blinking rapidly in an effort not to tear up. And you would have succeeded, damn it, if not for his next words.

“I tried to fight it, to fight you. Hell I almost got you fucking killed by chasing you out of here, and all because of my own fucking stubborn pride. I’d never hated myself as much as I did in that moment, when we found you lying injured in the fucking woods. I’ve loved and lost, more than any man should, but...the thought of losing you was what almost ruined me.”

Tears trickled down your cheeks in cool rivulets. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered. Hell, if you had known all of this a bit earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have hesitated to talk things out. Wouldn’t have held back as much as you did. 

Giving a self-deprecating smile, he said, “Because I’m a fucking idiot. But also because every time I considered it, you’d fucking pull away. I would’ve claimed you publicly as mine weeks ago, but you about had a god damn heart attack anytime there was a chance someone might see us getting fucking cozy together. I could practically hear the fears and doubts whirring around in your head the last few days, so I took the coward’s way out and tried to halt those thoughts by repeatedly fucking you any chance I got, until you were too exhausted to overthink.” 

He had meant the words to make you laugh, but instead you suddenly felt overwhelmed. Your stupid eyes wouldn’t stop watering, and if you weren’t careful your nose would start clogging up too. You had always been jealous as hell of women who could cry prettily, because you definitely weren’t one of them. 

You tried to school your features, tried to put on at least a thin mask of “I’m fine, totally fine” but more tears followed by a hiccuped sob escaping your lips said otherwise. You unwrapped your arms from his neck in order to press a hand to your mouth in an effort to try and stifle the emotions leaking out. 

“No,” he said, stern enough to jolt you out of the overanalyzing spiral your brain wanted to jump down. 

Pulling your hand away from your mouth with a gentle but firm grip, he clasped it between his own hands. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you asked. 

Lifting one hand, he used his thumb to brush away the tear sitting stubbornly on the middle of your cheek. “Don’t do what you did last time. Don’t hide from me again.” 

Sighing, you nodded in agreement. “Fine, but it would be nice if one of these times it was you crying and not me.” 

Humor was a mask of its own, one both of you used to cover up emotions. However, since you were standing there with red-rimmed eyes and he had just verbally confessed his emotions more in the last few minutes than he probably had during the rest of the apocalypse combined, you both deserved a bit of humor. 

“The day that happens, I might as well just chop off my dick and fucking hand that over as well,” he joked back, causing you to smile and shove at him playfully. 

Giving an exasperated sigh, you said “I can’t believe I’ve been so dumb about all of this, thinking...well, assuming totally incorrect things. Guess that’s what I get for not trying to just talk it out.” 

He gave you a mock-stern expression and said, “Well, then let this be a fucking lesson.” He used two fingers to point at your eyes and then at his own, and back to yours. “Partners, remember.”

God, you loved the way that word rolled off his tongue. It was exactly what you had always secretly hoped to find with a man: an equal partnership. Sure, Negan was still the leader of the Sanctuary and had the role of badass motherfucker to uphold, but at the heart of things you stood on equal ground, and your thoughts and feelings and opinions mattered just as much as his own. Not to mention, you would dare him to deny that you were the leader of the kitchen staff. And hey, there was a lot of power in being the one in charge of making sure the entire community was fed. And the fact that he didn’t want to take any of that away from you, that he was proud of your accomplishments, made you fall for him even more. 

“Partners,” you agreed with a nod, running a hand up over his chest. Fingers traced his strong, masculine features before running up into his hair to map the streaks of salt among the pepper. 

Eyes brightening with desire, he stared with laser focus down at your mouth, his nostrils flaring as he watched your teeth subconsciously nibble on your lower lip as you took in this handsome man who was yours. All yours. Seeing the intent in his gaze and knowing where this was about to go by the sudden tensing of his muscles for action, you pressed your other hand against his chest lightly and said, “Wait, one more thing. I have a request.”

“Name it,” he said without hesitation.

“Um...this might seem a bit random, but is there any way you could bump Simon up to having a single room?” When Negan looked at you in slight bewilderment, you continued, “That way Ben can visit whenever he wants.”

His brows lowered, and you were afraid he was going to dismiss the issue as not important, so you pressed on. “In all honesty, it was Ben’s insistence that I be honest and talk things out with you that helped push me to say what I did tonight. I kinda owe him.”

The unspoken words were that Negan kinda owed him too, and his scowl said that he heard them loud and clear. With a slight huff, he grumbled, “I’ll see what I can fucking do.”

Giving a wide smile, you stood up on tiptoe and planted a very grateful kiss on his lips, with tongue included. Pulling back a bit, you whispered against his mouth, “I’d love to see what you can fucking do.”

At that, he scooped you up into his arms with a growl and strode into the bedroom, where he then proceeded to spend a good portion of the night showing you just how thoroughly captured the king really was.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Extra Author’s Note: Holy crap, was I nervous af to post this chapter. I feel like so much has been building to this conversation between You and Negan, and I wasn’t sure how readers were going to feel about it. I know some people were expecting more drama and angst, especially since this is about the time that romance novels usually throw in the so-called “third act conflict”. However, I personally find it pretty annoying when that conflict is some form of unneeded miscommunication or lack of communication, followed by the characters being apart for a period of time and then coming back together in one grand gesture before bam, an abrupt ending where you’re to expect them to live happily ever after with no more issues. 

Instead, I had You and Negan do that earlier in the fic, with the “Confrontation” chapter where they royally fucked up and had to stumble their way back together, followed later by the pregnancy test argument where they started to fuck up but then both broke their unhealthy fight cycle (You did this by walking away and Negan did it by going after her and deciding to actually listen). And now, with this chapter I wanted to showcase their growth and how they’ve learned enough from past mistakes to move forward. Some people might see this chapter as too fluffy, but I saw it as a way to show two grown ass adults finally laying down their emotional shields and communicating in an open and healthy manner. At this point, I thought Negan and You deserved that, and I hope y’all agree. 

Whether you loved it, hated it, didn’t care, all of the above, etc, please feel free to let me know. I’m so so curious to hear what people thought of this chapter, and if what I was hoping to showcase came across in a satisfying way. Thanks for reading! I’ll be back with more updates after Camp Nano! <3

[spencerreidslove]

Hi! Do you know that one episode where the unsub froze his victims to death? I think they were meant to survive to join a cult or something like that, but yeah. I was wondering if you could write something like that (doesn’t necessarily have to be based in that ep) but the reader is kidnapped or something by the unsub and he starts to freeze her or idk and then the team arrives? Could it also be Platonic!Bau x reader, but spencer and reader r together? I hope that made sense. Thank you!!

A/N: I tried to stick to this episode as much as I could, but it’s been a minute since I’ve seen the episode so I probably went off from the actual plot. Also, sorry this took me 80 years to write!

————

Spending nearly a week in some random town in the middle of nowhere, Ohio was not how you wanted to spend time.

But that came with the job. The BAU has orginally been called in due to bodies that had been frozen to death. No new bodies had turned up and the team was facing a dead end.

You placed a hand on your husband’s shoulder as the rubbed his eye so hard you thought it might pop out.

“Spence, honey, look away from the board for five minutes.” You said.

“I need to finish this geographical profile.” Spencer muttered.

“Spencer. It’s nearly midnight, Hotch told everyone to go to the hotel nearly an hour ago.” You said, leaning into Spencer’s side and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“You go ahead. I’ll stay and work on the profile.” Spencer said.

“What did you say when you married me?” You asked.

“Huh?”

“Spencer, what did you say when you married me?”

“Lots of things. Be more specific.”

“About always being there. Be there by coming back to the hotel.”

Spencer laughed a little bit. “I think you’re twisting that a little bit. Look, go ahead and I’ll be there within half an hour.” Off your look he said: “If not, then I will owe you. Seriously.”

“Fine. Half an hour. I’ll be counting.” You said, grabbing your bag. You waved at Spencer as you made your way out of the precinct.

The hotel was nearby so you decided to walk. You were almost at the hotel when you heard someone call out from behind you.

“Excuse me? Ms?” The voice called out.

“Yeah?” You asked, turning around. Years at the FBI had made you cautious, so you kept your distance and crossed your arms so your hand was over your gun.

“Can you point me in the direction of 48th street?” The man asked.

You made a rookie mistake. You turned away from the man and looked at the road behind you. “I think it might be-“

You felt a sharp pain in between your shoulder blades; maybe a needle. Before you could figure out what it was your vision started to cloud and you felt yourself falling.

“Spencer.” You muttered before your eyes closed.

-

“Kid...Kid!” Morgan shook Reid’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t sleeping!” Reid cried, shaking himself awake. Morgan laughed. “Sure you weren’t. Did you sleep here?”

“I must’ve.” Spencer said, looking around at the table in front of him. “I was working in the geographical profile. I fell asleep.”

The rest of the team funneled into the room, and Spencer excused himself to the bathroom to splash some water on his face.

When he returned to the room, something was off. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked.

“We thought you knew.” JJ said.

“No, she left for the hotel late last night. I stayed here.” Spencer said.

“She wasn’t in the lobby this morning.” Emily said.

At that very moment, a uniformed officer walked past the room, holding a bag that looked very familiar.

“Sir.” The unie said, sticking his head in the room to talk to the detective in charge. “I was out canvassing and I saw this bag on the ground. You said it’s by where this guy’s looking.”

He held out the bag, handing it to the detective. The detective opened it, looking through the wallet. “This purse belongs to one...Y/N Reid.”

The world was falling from below Spencer’s feet. He must’ve fallen back into a chair because the next thing he knew he was sitting with his head between his legs.

“Breathe, Spencer, you need to breathe.” JJ said, rubbing small circles on his back.

“I-she was supposed to go to the hotel-and she-“ Spencer knew he was hyperventilating but he couldn’t stop.

“Reid, we’re going to find her but in order for that to work you need to calm down first.” Morgan said.

“I can’t-she...she’s gone.”

-

Cold.

It was the only thing you could feel. Maybe Spencer had turned the thermostat down again and had taken all the blankets with him.

“Spence...blankets. Hand ‘em over.” You mumbled, rolling on your side.

You tried to reach out a hand to grab them, but you couldn’t move your arm.

You furrowed your brows as you slowly opened your eyes. Then you remembered. You weren’t at home in bed with Spencer.

Man. Needle. Falling.

The thoughts came back to you slowly. When you finally opened your eyes you looked around, seeing you were in some sort of dark room.

It was freezing.

“Freezing...” you said. “Oh shit.”

You rolled your head back and looked down at yourself. Your hands and feet your tied together, explaining why you couldn’t move them.

The door to the freezer opened. “Good, you’re awake. It’s always so much more fun when they’re awake.” The same man who got you said.

“Let me go.” You said.

“No.”

“Look, you don’t want to do this. I’m in the FBI. You know what will happen if you kill me?”

“I know. I only took you because you’re a Fed.”

The man stepped closer to you. Grabbing you roughly by the rope, he made you sit up. He punched you. And then again. And then again.

-

“He has to have some sort of industrial freezer.” Hotch said, putting his hands on the desk.

Spencer still hadn’t fully calmed down. He had now swung the way of throwing himself into work. He stared at the same geographical profile he had been working on the night before.

Every time he looked at it, all he could think about was you telling him to come back to the hotel with you. And him refusing.

“Kid. Step away from the map. Let someone else take a look for a moment.” Morgan said.

“I can’t do that.” Spencer said.

“Fine. Then come with me to eat something. You need it.”

“I can’t do that either. Y/N is missing, so I’m not going to stop working.”

Morgan left his side for a moment. Then, he returned and took the pen out of Spencer’s hand.

“Hey!” Spencer called.

“You can get this back in five minutes. Take a break, pretty boy.” Morgan said.

Spencer sighed and followed Morgan out into the hallway twoards a vending machine.

The pair stood in silence for a moment. “It’s my fault.” Spencer muttered.

“Reid, what?” Morgan said.

“Y/N-she kept telling me to come back to the hotel. I said she should go ahead without me and I’d be there in half an hour. If I had just gone with her she wouldn’t have been taken.”

“Spencer, you can’t blame yourself for that. If you would’ve been there, you might’ve both been taken. You you could have been killed. We can’t go back and change last night, but we can work to find this son of a bitch. And to do that you need to be present, not nearly passing out.”

Spencer sighed and took the bag of chips Morgan was holding out to him.

A few minutes later they returned to the room, where the group was huddled around a table.

“We might have something.” Hotch said.

“Garcia, taking into account Y/N’s abduction site, how many people in that area have industrial freezers?” Rossi asked.

“Just one. A Stewart Hull. Sending his home and work to you now. Go get out girl back.” Garcia said.

-

You had been left in the freezer alone again. The man had punched you several more times and turned the temperature down. You were 90% sure there were icicles on your eyelashes.

The door opened again. “Well, Little Ms. Fed, our time has been fun. But I think it’s time to end it.” The man said. He was wearing a full snow suit and was holding some sort of machine.

“Time for the freeze.” He said.

This is it. You thought. And I’m never going to see Spencer again.

You closed your eyes, preparing for the cold to hit you. But, just as you thought it was going to happen, you heard a familiar voice.

“Stewart Hull, step away from the freezer.”

JJ? You thought. You opened your eyes again to see her standing across from the man.

Afterwards, when asked to recall what happened, you won’t remeber much, other than the feeling of cold, the man yelling, and then gunshots.

Soon, JJ was beside you, calling for a medic, and untying you.

“Y/N, it’s going to ok.”

“Cold...” your teeth chattered. “Spence...”

“He’s here, he’ll be here any moment, just hold on.”

Then the cold took you.

-

You woke up to beeping. As you’d lowly opened your eyes, you realized you were in the hospital.

You blinked a few times and turned your head to the side, spotting Garcia sitting in a chair next to your bed, typing away on a computer.

“Penelope.” You muttered.

She looked up from her computer, jumping out of the chair.

“Mrs. Dr.! Don’t ever scare me like that again!” She cried, wrapping you in one of her signature Penelope Garcia hugs.

“How long have I been out?” You asked.

“2 days. They said you had early stages of frostbite.” Garcia said.

“Spencer?” You asked, looking around your hospital room.

“The Boy Wonder is down the hall getting some food. Morgan practically had to drag him down there. He hasn’t left you.”

“Could you got get him please?” You asked.

“Y/N?” Your husband’s voice said from behind Garcia.

“I’ll give you two a minute.” She said, leaving the room.

Spencer looked like a mess, you probably did too. “Hey.” You said.

Spencer dropped his bag and came up beside the bed, wrapping his arms around you. “Please don’t ever leave me again.”

“Not if I can help it.” You said.

“I’m so sorry.” Spencer said, his shoulders shaking a little bit.

“For what?” You said, holding him tighter. He was crying, you realized.

“I should’ve left with you.” Spencer said.

“Never mind that. We’re both here now.” You said.

You both say like that for a while, Spencer and you embracing.

“However, I think you were more than half an hour late to the hotel, so you do still owe me.” You said, trying to make a joke.

“I owe you for the rest of my life.” Spencer said.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Tags! (Open)

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg @zhuzhubii @just-damn-bored @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @andreasworlsboring101 @bxtchboy69 @atomicmassofcobalt @rachelxwayne

[jaalismyhusband]

Took you long enough

Title: Took you long enough

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x f!reader

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, explicit language, age gap, corruption kink if you squint

Wordcount: 2.9k

Masterlist

To say that these past few months have been stressful is an understatement. You were an aspiring actress and somehow landed a pretty big role in a movie. It already had some famous names attached to it and you were quite intimidated to star along the other actors. But nonetheless, you put on your big girl pants and took the opportunity. Caught in a loop of constant stress, memorizing the lines, filming the scenes, promoting the movie, you had only so much time to really appreciate what was going on. It was only after the first month of filming you realized what the hell was actually happening.

Your co-star Sebastian Stan has helped you a lot with handling everything. You remember, when you found out he was starring in the movie as well, you almost passed out. Getting to know him was such a surreal experience. Although you had a big crush on him, you stayed respectful towards him and you two became rather close friends.

To be honest, the more you got to know him, the more you liked him. And this time it wasn’t just a platonic crush. You tried to fight it, but your struggles were fruitless. You had it bad for your best friend. Acting on your feelings was not an option however. It was no secret that no woman occupied his bedroom for more than one night. You knew it was bad news to fall for him, yet you couldn’t help yourself. You liked how he didn’t pretend, but actually listened to you. How he seemed to remember even the little details you mentioned to him. How protective he was of you from the day you met, especially while defending you when people called you “the new kid” - the nickname stuck with you during the whole period of filming, much to your dislike. You knew they meant well when they called you that nickname, trying to make you feel like a part of the group. You were much younger than most of the cast, but you didn’t think of yourself as a child anymore. It seemed impossible to convince others of that, though.

Only a few people respected you enough not to use that nickname - one of them being Sebastian. At times you thought he didn’t see you as a kid with the way he treated you and you were naïve enough to get your hopes up. That was a mistake, you thought, as you watched the interview Sebastian had done earlier that day. He was asked about the cast members. You anxiously waited for your name to be mentioned, palms sweating as you guessed what he would say about you.

“What about Y/N? You seem close, not to mention how often you are spotted together.” The interviewer raised his brow, as he waited for an answer.

Sebastian smiled widely as he answered: “Yeah, we are really close. She’s like a little sister I never had, you know?”

Your heart clenched painfully, as you stopped the video. You just had to accept that it would never work. How could you be so stupid to think he’d actually like you, when he had so many women at his feet, begging to be noticed by him. You were thankful you were his friend - that had to be enough. It wasn’t, though. No matter what you told yourself, you always ended up thinking about him in inappropriate ways.

The door on your trailer opened and revealed happy Sebastian with take out.

“Hey, I thought to bring you some food, since it’s going to be a long day today.” He smiled at you as he sat down next to you on the couch, handing you your food.

“Thanks.” You smiled back. You didn’t waste time and dug in, only now realizing how hungry you were. He seemed to know you better than you knew yourself.

Sebastian broke the comfortable silence: “Hey, so, I want to ask you for advice.” Did he seem nervous? No, you thought as you hinted him to ask away.

“There’s this woman, that I like. I shouldn’t, but something about her is so intriguing, I can’t help it. And I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.

“I can’t believe you are asking me for an advice on how to pick up women. You getting rusty, old man?” You joked, as his face fell in disappointment.

“I’m serious, Y/N. I think I’m ready to go all the way with her. But she’s not really – uhm, how to put it – available. That’s why I’m so nervous about it,” he sighed, as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Right, sorry. But still, I think you’re perfectly fine. Just ask her out. She’d be stupid to reject you,” you spoke sincerely.

“Thanks, I’ll go for it then.”

The rest of the lunch was enjoyed in silence.

Few days have passed and your mood seem to only decrease as the time went on. You secretly hoped Sebastian was talking about you and that he would ask you out later. But this was your life, not a romcom. Your hopes were crushed, when you asked Sebastian about it and he confirmed what seemed like your worst nightmare.

“She said yes!” he exclaimed excitedly and you gave him a hug to hide the mixture of unpleasant emotions plastered on your face.

“I’m so happy for you,” and you were, truly. As long as he was happy, you would be too. But why did it hurt so much anyway?

Ever since then, you just weren’t your ever smiling self. What you were was a millennial and you did what millennials knew best – repressed your emotions. Stuffed them deep inside your soul where nobody could acknowledge them, not even you.

The days seemed repetitive. You were exhausted from putting up a show not only when you were filming, but now also when you were in a company of your friends. Luckily, there was only one scene to film and then a much needed vacation awaited.

“CUT!” screamed the director. “What the hell Y/N?! This is the seventh take and you still can’t get it right.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll get it this time, I swear,” you apologized and immediately took your spot, wanting nothing more, than to finish this scene, go home and curl up in bed while watching your favourite show.

Today was just one of those days, when it seemed like the whole universe conspired against you. First, your alarm didn’t go off, which resulted in being late on your last day. Your hands were shaking by the time you got to the set and you managed to knock over the cup of coffee, just barely missing your costume. Not to mention how anxious you were, since you were purposely avoiding Sebastian. You only missed him more and yet, you couldn’t stand being in his presence. It hurt not being able to look into his eyes. This all held you back from giving a flawless performance in front of the camera, which only frustrated you even more.

“We believe in you, kid. Breathe, focus. Action!” You were truly thankful for the support, as you finally got the scene right.

“And cut! We got it! Ok, that’s it, guys. It’s been pleasure to work with you all. As you may have heard, there will be an afterparty, if you will, tonight. Please, do come! Till then have a great day everyone!” Finished the director and people started to clap. There has been a heavy boulder of a rock lifted from your shoulders as you realized this was it. You quickly said your goodbyes to everyone, eager to go home and hide.

“Y/N! Wait!” you were on your way out when you heard your name being called. You sighed and put on a smile, before you faced Sebastian.

“Hi, I’ve tried to call you, but you weren’t picking up. You’ve been distant lately. Have you been avoiding me?” He accused.

“No! No, I uh… My phone has been malfunctioning these days, I’m getting it repaired soon,” you weren’t proud of yourself for lying to him, but you weren’t ready to tell him the truth just yet.

“Are you coming to the afterparty?” It was obvious he didn’t buy your white lie, but decided not to ponder on it.

“Oh, I don’t think I am. I’ve had an extraordinarily shitty day and I don’t wanna be a party pooper.” You immediately gave him a list of excuses.

“Yeah, yeah, quit it, queen. I’ll pick you up at 7.” He left you no space to argue and just walked away. You shook your head in disbelief and made your way home.

“Finally,” you exhaled a big breath once you collapsed on your bed. Sleep was an alluring way how to avoid your problems. So, you did the reasonable thing and took a nap.

You woke up right as the sun was setting. You still hadn’t decided if you were going to go to that stupid get together or not. You knew it would be a nice change of pace, to let go for one night. Afterall, it was a celebration of the hard work the cast had done. On the other hand, Sebastian would be there. And now that you thought about it, he would probably bring that woman, he asked out earlier. You weren’t ready to see Sebastian all lovey dovey with someone else, god no.

But this was also the chance to see him for the last time. You weren’t sure if he would keep hanging out with you after the movie was done. Tears stung in your eyes as you realized that he would probably cut ties with you. Sure, you would call each other once a week, then once a month, then only on holidays and then he would eventually stop calling you whatsoever. You were going to lose him. You were so sure of it. The tears were now streaming freely down your cheeks as you hyperventilated. All of those emotions that were supposed to stay stored away came at you at once, demanding to be experienced, to be felt.

You couldn’t calm down and there was only one person who was able to soothe you. Your best friend from high school. Due to your career you two weren’t hanging out as often as you’d like, but your bond hadn’t suffered because of that. You dialled her number after you blew your nose, so you were able to somewhat form words.

“Hi, Y/N! Oh my god, it’s been so long since we’ve actually talked!” You sobbed even harder when you heard her enthusiastic voice.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” she pleaded, as you tried to calm yourself enough to talk.

“Today has just been such a shitshow,” you cried out. You told her all about your day, but the topic soon enough changed to the real reason why you were crying – Sebastian.

“You know what’s the worst thing? I love him. So fucking much. And I know he doesn’t feel the same. He sees me as his little sister. SISTER. No way he would be attracted to someone he considers a sibling. Oh, and have I mentioned that now he’s suddenly had a change of heart and stopped sleeping with random women because he mEt SoMEoNe sPeCiaL?” you mocked him, “I just can’t. I know that I did this to myself and it’s not his fault, but fuck! I can’t even tell him how I feel, because there is only one scenario to this – him ending our friendship because of it. I don’t know if I’m ready to lose him completely.” You kept on rambling as your supportive friend listened, offering you her kind words here and there.

Soon after she apologized profusely, as she explained her break was over and she had to get back to work. You assured her it was okay and that you were thankful she found some time to listen to you pour you broken heart out through the phone. She ended the call by reminding you that she loved you and hung up.

You sighed and blew your nose again. You stood up from your bed, taking the used tissues with you.

“Fuck.” You stopped dead in your tracks, feeling like a deer in front of a headlights. There stood a very shocked Sebastian.

“How did you get here?”

“I came to pick you up, remember? Front door was unlocked, so I let myself in. You didn’t respond when I called your name. I looked for you and found you here, crying,” his voice cracked at his last words: “I have never seen you cry before.” He seemed truly sad, but you were too frightened to notice.

“How much of it did you hear?”

“Everything.” He exhaled and you struggled to meet his gaze. You huffed, storming out of your bedroom, leaving him behind. You just wanted to disappear right on the spot and avoid this confrontation.

You almost ran to the kitchen, throwing the tissues to the bin. You hoped this was all just a bad dream and that in fact Sebastian wasn’t here, but all that convincing was futile once you turned around and saw him sitting in your kitchen. There was a tense silence, as none of you knew what to say next. The air grew heavy, suffocating you.

“So,” Sebastian cleared his throat, “you like me?” To which you only nodded, as you leaned on the counter.

“Why?” he asked. You laughed at that, the sound so alien to you because of all the crying.

“You were nice to me from the first day. You gave me a chance to get to know you. Once we started hanging out I just, I don’t know. I like how you talked to me, like I wasn’t just the new kid. You actually listened to what I had to say. You made me feel special, Seb. Not to mention, you look like a fucking Greek god,” he chuckled at that.

“Weren’t you discouraged by my age? Or the fact that ‘I slept with random women’?” he asked, using your words against you.

“Well, I can’t blame you for that. And I can’t blame those women either. And your age never bothered me. In fact, it’s just another thing about you that turns me on.” You realized too late what you were about to say and just said it. Your eyes widened and your face heated up, as you tried to shrink your existence and hide from Sebastian’s piercing gaze.

“I turn you on?” Sebastian asked, amused by how embarrassed you were. He stood up and walked up to you. You shied away, but he trapped you in between his arms against the counter, so you wouldn’t run.

“I’d like your advice on something,” he started as he looked you straight in the eyes, “There’s this girl I’ve befriended. She’s really young and innocent, like an angel. I think I liked her right from the start, but I knew I wasn’t good for her. And yet, I can’t help but be attracted to her. I’ve tried to forget, but all those meaningless nights and faceless women couldn’t fill the void. Couldn’t erase the feelings she brought up in me every time I thought of her, saw her, touched her. I think about her almost every night. About how I’d hold her, kiss her, make her moan my name.” You squirmed under his gaze, but he paid no mind as he continued his monologue: “I fantasize about deflowering her, turning her into a mess, while I transform her into my greedy whore. The image makes me painfully hard. And now, I have a chance to make her mine. What do you say, doll? Should I go for it?” You gasped at his confession and only weakly nodded.

His lips met yours in a desperate kiss. It was all tongue and teeth. He wasn’t gentle with you by any means, not that you wanted him to be. His hands pulled you impossibly close, as they squeezed your ass, making you moan into the kiss. You both had to stop and take a breath, your foreheads connecting as you panted.

“I made her up, you know,” spoke Sebastian softly.

“What?”

“The woman. She doesn’t exist. It was you who I’ve been talking about, but then I chickened out.”

“Why?” you were curious and anxious at the same time to hear his answer.

“You called me an old man! I thought you would be creeped out!” he got defensive.

“That was a joke, Seb,” you laughed, “Why did you tell me that she accepted?”

He awkwardly scratched his neck, as he mumbled: “I didn’t want to disappoint you, that your advice hadn’t worked.” You just burst out laughing at that. Sebastian didn’t like that, as he faked getting offended and hurt, which only caused to make you cry-laugh. You finally calmed down, after a while, only now seeing how Sebastian was watching you the whole time. He gently wiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb, as he held your face.

“I love you, Seb,” it felt good to finally say it out loud. You were absolutely lovestruck and at this point you didn’t care.

“Took you long enough,” you rolled your eyes at him, as he smirked.

“I love you too, doll.”

[morbidkisses]

I’m not sure how your requests work or what you would need, but could I get a yandere Hoseok story please?

You Belong With Me. (y! hoseok drabble)

warning: yandere themes, obsessive themes, yandere behavior, manipulation, abusive relationships, hobi gets kind of aggressive later on in the story, misogyny, choking, hair pulling, reader is chained up to the wall, death, minor character deaths.

summary: you get into an argument with hoseok because he refuses to let you go outside and catch up with your friends over a few drinks.

I do not condone this type of behavior so please don't romanticize this type of sick behavior, and if you're part in an abusive relationship please seek help!

once again this is FICTION, and yandere is counted as horror/mystery type of shit so stay safe bubbies! oh and this might be triggering so please read at your own risk, and if you don't like stuff like this then SCROLL. I talk too much-

"What? so you love them more than me??"

you rolled your eyes and sighed in exasperation. your boyfriend was being irrational at this point, and it was driving you crazy. You met hoseok a few weeks ago, and you were charmed by his radiant smile, his sweet words, he was the perfect gentleman with good looks and a fat bank account, you couldn't say no when he asked you out on a date, how could you? he was literally so perfect, but you were too blind to see the dark imperfections hidden behind his bright smile.

"For the hundredth time, hobi, they're my friends and I just want to catch up with them! You're being illogical-"

"How am I the one being illogical when you're the one who is choosing your so-called friends over me???" He threw his hands in the air to emphasize his point, his eyes were so wide you thought they would pop out.

"Just because I want to see them and talk to them doesn't mean I love them more than you, for God's sake!!! stop being so childish." you yelled out as you tugged at your hair strands in frustration. Why was he making such a big deal out of this? it wasn't like you were going out to cheat on him with someone else, you just wanted to go out and catch up with your friends at the local bar.

"You're not going, and that's the end of this stupid discussion, love. Now, get your ass back in the bedroom and change into something proper, you look like a slut in that dress."

Okay. that was it. You grabbed the first thing your hands could find, which was a tissue box and threw it at him as hard as you possibly could in rage. How dare he call you that, your dress was completely fine. You were clad in a simple black dress that dropped right above your knees and the only thing that could be considered inappropriate by society was the little cleavage that was showing, but even if you were to go out in the tightest dress he still had no rights to call you that. You had to leave him. And leave him you did.

"You're such a bitch, I tried to make this shit work but honestly I'm fed up with your immature ass. Im leaving." you picked up your purse which had your car keys and phone in it, before walking towards the entrance door and opening it.

"don't bother calling me again." you mumbled before slamming the door shut behind you.

Hoseok was in a state of shock, his soul had left his body, he couldn't process what just happened. It felt like someone had just poured a bucket of ice cold water on him.

"n-no... y/n, sweetie, come back..." his voice cracked as he fell to his knees in devastation. He knew you could no longer hear him, but he hoped you would come back through those doors and hug him. How could you be so cruel? You were the reason he was breathing? He felt like all the light was pulled out of him, his mind going numb as he stared down at his hands.

Soft cries left his lips as his stature stuttered while he sobbed silently, but not before long, he broke into an unhinged laughter as he sat down on the ground and leaned back against the couch, his eyes stuck to the door you had so rudely slammed into his face. All traces of sadness had disappeared from his face, a devilish smirk replacing the heartbreaking frown.

You were going to regret this big time.

He grabbed his phone and quickly dialed a number.

"Tae, my birdie just left me, can you do me a favor and bring her back to me?"

The person on the other line scoffed audibly

"Do I even have a choice?" 'Tae' groaned.

"Not really. Be careful not to hurt her, and bring her two little friends with her as well, I don't care if you hurt them just keep those two alive, my birdie needs to learn a lesson."

A sigh could be heard from the other line before 'tae' mumbled an okay.

"I'll text you the location."

Everything was a blur, one moment you were laughing and having fun with your friends and the very next second you fell unconscious. Unknown to you, someone might have put a few ingredients in your drinks.

You woke up with a throbbing ache in your head, your mind was fogged up and you couldn't think. A groan left your lips as you brought your hands up to rub your temples. You sat up on what seemed to be a bed, your mind started clearing up, but you were still confused, where were you? what happened? You fully opened your eyes and panic started filling your mind as you realized you were in Hoseok's room. You started hyperventilating and quickly got out of bed, but you felt something heavy around your ankle.

was he fucking serious???

He had cuffed your ankles, you were literally chained to the wall. the chain was long enough for you to roam around the room and the bathroom.

You were hysteric, trying your hardest to pull out the thick chains from the wall, but your efforts were futile. Silent sobs began pouring from your lips as you panicked. After giving up you slumped against the wall and hugged your knees as you cried to yourself.

"Oh you're up!" Hoseok beamed as he entered the room.

Furious yet terrified, you stood up and charged at him full speed before grabbing him by the collar of his white shirt and yanking him closer to your face.

"Listen here, you crazy psychopath, if you don't let me out of here right now I'll-"

"oh please, what are you gonna do?" he grinned sinisterly as he gingerly ran his fingers through your hair, you were such a cute little thing, bluffing around. You couldn't do shit to him at the moment, and both of you were aware of that fact. His gentle strokes didn't last long as he yanked your hair back.

"You must learn your lesson, my love, I didn't want to do this but you misbehaved."

His other hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off the blood flow to the brain. Your face started becoming red as you tugged at his hand.

"p-plea... se... s-sto..."

He scoffed at your expression as he tilted his head. "know your place."

He tightened his grip one last time before letting you fall to the ground on your knees, before you broke into a coughing fit.

"That's where you belong" his tone was enough to make you shudder. "you belong with me... completely at my mercy."

You didn't have it in you to fight more so you just weakly glared up at him, your legs felt numb, rendering you motionless on your knees.

"I hate you..."

"aw, but I've barely started your punishment, love! It's still too early to hate me!"

although your words stung him a bit, he didn't show it. He just feigned an innocent smile before he grabbed his phone and unlocked it.

Bewildered by his actions, you frowned. What was he up to? what did he mean when he said it's still too early to hate him?

"Ah Tae! Hello!" He sounded awfully cheerful and enthusiastic. How could he shift his mood like that. It seemed as if he was face timing someone on his phone.

Hoseok looked down at you and he almost cooed at your adorably confused expression.

a sigh was heard from the other line. "You owe me big time, hoseok."

"yeah yeah, I'll send you the money later. Can you show me our friends for a bit?"

no.. he couldn't mean...

He crouched down next to you and showed you the screen of his phone. Your eyes widened in horror as you quickly began shaking your head.

"Hobi, please no no, please! Leave them out of this please!" you almost choked on your tears as you begged him to let your friends go.

"it's a bit too late for that, baby." he pressed a kiss to your temple which made your skin crawl in disgust.

"YOU BASTARD, LET THEM GO." you screamed at the screen as you watched your best friends tied up and severely bruised.

"I don't get paid enough for this shit..." 'Tae' muttered. You couldn't see his face on the screen, probably because he was using the back camera to show your friends.

"the fuck am I supposed to do now?" the person behind the camera asked.

"oh just finish them off."

Hoseok sat down on the ground and back hugged your body, his head resting on your shoulder as he made sure your eyes didn't leave the screen.

"no please don't! I'm begging you please stop!" you cried out as the camera got closer to your friends. Your friends' cries were left unheard as two bullets were shot right into their skulls.

You let out a blood curling scream as you thrashed around, but hoseok was stronger than you, so he held you down with ease. How could he do that?

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you both, you motherfuckers!" you screamed at them both as tears streamed down your cheeks.

"thank you, tae, I owe you! bye bye!" he ended the call.

"You see love, we could've avoided all of this... if you had just been obedient. This is all your fault, I hope you know that." he sighed as he looked down at your crying form.

He was sick, how could he say that, did he feel no remorse?

"you can't leave me... you belong to me."

a/n: that was kind of shitty- but I tried- sorry for the late updates! I hope you like it :]]

this is unedited by the way :]

oh and I used a yandere starter prompt by @yandere-daydreams ! :]

[pandajaye]

Todoroki Family Ties (Part 9)

Characters: Enji Todoroki, Stepmom!OC!Ivy (Ivy is black btw), Child!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki, Preteen!Fuyumi, Child!Natsuo

Fandom: My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia

Warnings: pregnancy, hospital, hysteria, child abuse, Aquaphobia, upset child, abusive family, neglect

“Enji, it’s okay. Please try to calm down. Everything is going to be fine.” Ivy comforted her husband, putting a hand on his leg in an attempt to keep it from bouncing so much. “I know, I know. Just a little nervous, that’s all.” He sighed, looking down at his hands while he rubbed his palms. They were the only ones in the room right now. It was cold and white everywhere apart from the delightful little flower clusters. The atmosphere was mostly quiet except for the tapping of keyboards and damp sounds of phones ringing in some of the offices.

“I mean…. what if it’s true? How could I be so careless? I should’ve been thinking clearly. I should’ve thought more about you. Things were just finally going so right and I was so distracted by excitement. So many good things were falling in to place. It’s…. It’s all my fault that we’re here today.” He brought her hand up from his thigh and kissed her knuckles. “Please, forgive me.” All she could do was smile at how nervous he was. “Forgive you for what, baby? Nothing bad has happened. Being here is a big part of the journey. It’s where our path is decided for us. I’m excited. You should be, too.”

Enji wrapped his arms around her with a tight squeeze. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” She always did know how to make the best of a situation that seemed frightening. Maybe it was the way of words. Maybe it was the sweet and calm voice that did it for him. Whatever it was, he was happy to be able to access it. Having her next to him was going to make this move a lot smoother, and he couldn’t ask for anything better right now.

Their moment of peace was interrupted by a nurse dressed in lovely pink scrubs. “Todoroki?” Her voice was gentle and nice as well as her smile while she patiently waited for the two to stand and follow her. On the way to their room, Ivy glanced into the rooms they passed. In one, a couple was finding out some good news. They looked excited. In another, a woman seemed to be having a good check up. And the last one was different than the other two. A woman leaned against her sad husband as she cried. The doctor also had a sad and sympathetic look on her face. Those sure were some interesting situations to witness. Which one would represent her and Enji’s?

“This room right here. Doctor Akari will be right with you.” The two parties bowed to each other before she left and they entered the room. Enji looked around the room and sighed. It was so weird to be here again. The rooms had changed a bit since the last time he was on this same floor seven years ago. ‘Wow. Seven. I’m getting old.’ He was quickly brought back to reality by Ivy. “I’m really glad we’re here today. This is good.” Her smile brought so much ease to him. How lucky is he to have someone like her.

A quiet knock on the door gathered their attention. In walked an older woman. Her hair was still a dark brown so she couldn’t have been that much older but you could see some of the age in her kind face. There was a bit of height difference between them, her being taller than Ivy, shorter than Enji of course. She carefully closed the door behind her before setting her chart on the table and introducing herself. “I’m Dr. Akari, nice to meet you today, Mr. and Mrs. Todoroki.” She shook their hands and continued. “Amazing, I never thought I’d be meeting, let alone working for the number two hero. I guess dreams do come true.” Enji blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Heh. Always nice to meet a fan.”

“So. We’re here for a verification today, correct? How are you feeling? Mrs. Todoroki, is this your first?” Ivy nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I-I’ve really never been in any type of situation like this before. I’m excited and kinda nervous. Sorry.” Dr. Akari held Ivy’s hands in her own. “Sweetheart. You don’t need to apologize. Being nervous is apart of this. A big part. That’s not to say that it’ll be a bad experience. It is what you make it. And I have so much faith that this is going to be an amazing and beautiful new part of your life. You’re going to be great at this.” Her smile was warm and reassuring. Maybe everything really will be okay. “Should we get this thing started?” Ivy looked at Enji and back at Dr. Akari with a grin. “Let’s do it.”

The test and results took no time at all to come back to them. “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Todoroki. You’re having a baby.” Excitement quickly grew on Ivy’s face, brown eyes big and full of tears when she looked at Enji who hugged her tight, kissing the top of her head. “Wonderful news! Wonderful! Wonderful!” He was so energetic and happy like a child himself. The fifth child and he’s still taken aback as if it’s his first. Ivy stayed a little calmer herself. “I’m so happy. This is everything I’ve ever wanted…. A dream come true.” The doctor hugged Ivy when Enji finally pulled away. “I’m so happy for you two. You have my full adoration. I know you’re going to be an amazing mother. Before you know it, you’ll have a quirky and spontaneous bundle of joy in your arms.” Ivy froze.

‘….Quirky?’

Enji thanked the doctor a few more times before leaving and while they walked to the car, he noticed something was off about Ivy. She kept her gaze towards the ground and hadn’t said a word since leaving the doctor’s office. After a short walk they arrived at the car, Ivy got in the passenger seat and patiently waited for Enji to get in and close his door. As soon as the car door shut, Ivy broke down hysterically… “FUCK! FUCK! FUCKING! FUCK!” Honestly, it scared him a bit. She was fine a few minutes ago and now she’s upset? “IVY? WHAT’S WRONG?” She started hyperventilating, forcing him to pull Ivy into his lap and hold her. “Breathe! Breathe. Slow down. In….. Out….” It took a minute before she could match his breathing. Eventually, they were in sync and she began to calm down and got back into the passenger seat.

“Alright. What in the hell was that?” He didn’t mean to sound irritated, he was just genuinely confused about what just manifested. “I-I’m sorry but…. I-I can’t do this. I-I-I can’t be a mom.” Tears were still falling but she tried to wipe them away as fast as they came. “Wha…. What do you mean?” His brows were furrowed and his face contorted. “Enji…. I-I was so excited at first. And, I still am in some ways…. But…. what happens when…. w-when we have this child…. and they don’t have a quirk because of me? I wasn’t even thinking about it until Dr. Akari said the word quirky and all of a sudden it hit me. My child is going to be weak because of me…. They’re going to hate me. I know you want a strong child with a strong quirk but I-…. I-I can’t give you that.”

To be honest, he hadn’t thought of it either. But that was the old him anyways. He’s grown since then. Quirks aren’t everything to him anymore. Just her. Just his family. No matter what skills they had or didn’t have. He loves them in every aspect. “Ivy…. I don’t need you to give me that. I want you to be happy and healthy. I want to have this child with you no matter what happens. As long as you’re both okay, that’s what’s important. I know how I used to be. And I’m still sorry and trying to atone for it. I’m learning and growing every day because of you. I appreciate and love you so much.” His large hand held her cheek as he searched her eyes for a sign that she understood him.

A wave of safety washed over her as she leaned into his hand. So much calm after one random storm. “You’re right. You are learning. You have grown. And I am beyond proud of you. I’m sorry for my outburst. It wasn’t all about you. Being quirkless has always been a problem for me. Way before me and you. You’ve improved in ways that…. he never did.” Her gaze shifted to her feet when thoughts and feelings she had long ago returned. “Who?” When her gaze came back her eyes were brimming with tears of numb pain.“My dad….”

From a very young age, Ivy was victim to some of the most impactful abuse that young girls have suffered for centuries. Familial. Being the outcast, the one child that didn’t make the cut. Worked hard and reprimanded for occurrences out of her power. Her power. The center of everything and the reason for her suffering. More commonly known as a quirk, her ability should have been water manipulation. It ran in her family. They’ve always been connected to it all. Oceans, lakes, rain, dew, snow. A gene for telekinesis brought in from one of her great great grandparents but no one remembers which one.

“LET’S GO, LET’S GO, LET’S GO!” Nami James Emaraki, Ivy’s father, blew hard into his whistle. It’s not that common for a ten-year old to have to do burpees and laps on a Saturday morning. Especially since she’s not training for anything. “YOU SLACK AND I SWEAR ITS ANOTHER TEN LAPS!! YOU ALREADY MISSED BREAKFAST SINCE YOU WANNA SLEEP IN, I’M PERFECTLY FINE WITH YOU MISSING LUNCH CAUSE I’LL STILL EAT BUT YOU WON’T!!!!” He wasn’t kidding either. That threat wasn’t the least bit empty.

“I-” Her foot slipped and caused her to face plant. She lifted her head and a stream of blood ran from her nose. “OW! UGH! H-Help, please!” Rolling his eyes, he stomped over to her, grabbing a fist full of her hair. “Sure, I’ll help you. Usually salt water helps with things like that. Let’s get you a lot of salt water.” He looked at the pool and smiled. “How about 10 ft?” Panic flooded her entire body so quickly it almost made her dizzy. Or maybe that was from the quick face plant and loss of blood.

“N-No! Please!” Ignoring her, he began dragging her to the deep end of their pool. “I’m so sorry, I can keep going! I can keep going! Daddy I can keep going!” She couldn’t help but cry and scream for forgiveness because he always had such a terrible punishment for her. The closer they got the more she struggled. “DADDY PLEASE! PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE NO! NO-” He tossed her in with a grunt and picked up his stopwatch. “Hurry up. You don’t wanna drown, use your quirk to get out!”

But that was the issue. Ivy was quirkless. It never showed up when it was supposed to. They hoped she was a late bloomer but it wasn’t looking very hopeful. Her father and uncle did everything they can to bring it out of her. They were so close they moved into two joint houses for each of their families, between the two homes, a facility with a large indoor pool that they used to coach swimming and have opened for water sports and activities. Every child in their family has used this pool to get better at their quirks. But Ivy was the only one forced into fearing it, unlike her siblings and cousins.

The eldest children were Ivy’s older twin brother and sister who were six years older than her, as well as a male cousin four years older than her. They were taught everything with care and detail. How to swim, how to make waves, etc. Next, her cousin that was but a few months older than her. He also experienced the life of being the middle child like her. Ivy was born next. Treated like all the other kids until she reached the age where quirks usually had already appeared in their family.

Four. When the family pediatrician attempted to explain that her quirk would never come in due to an extra joint in her foot, that of which the absence of would determine if the power would ever come in. Her father was so upset when they got home, he grabbed her by the ankles and dunked her in the water a few times before dropping her in the 5 feet. Her mother stood and watched as paramedics revived Ivy, pretending very well to be concerned.

Yet, here he is now. Watching her sink as she loses oxygen. Destined to be a corpse at the bottom of the pool. But just before tragedy could wrap her up in its claws, her father washed her back onto the side of the pool with a wave. There she laid in a puddle, lungs full of water. “So damn dramatic.” Unrightfully annoyed, he preformed mouth to mouth and saved her, smacking her when she accidentally spit up water in his face. “You’re a disgusting excuse for a daughter. But just you wait, you’ll be a hero soon enough. And you’re gonna be supporting your family after we’ve been so supportive of you. Get your ass up and come inside when you’re through acting like something wrong with you.”

Nami didn’t even look back after he started walking way. He didn’t care if she ever got up. To him, she has two options in life. Become a top pro-hero. Or die. And some days, she wished he wouldn’t save her. Some days she wanted to stay at the bottom of that pool knowing she wouldn’t be able to breathe. Ivy couldn’t help but wonder, what’s the point of living if your entire family is already disappointed in you?

During lunch, her mother Eimi asked her about today’s training. “How did it go today, Ivy?” She smiled, looking between her and her father. Ivy didn’t want to answer so she kept her mouth shut. “Ivy, your mama is talking to you. Answer her.” His fist slammed down on the table. The back of her throat burned from swallowing her need to cry. “Ivy? Answer her, girl, can you not hear?!” She flinched at him raising his voice. With a quiet sigh, Ivy spoke, carefully trying not to let her voice crack. “It w-was fine, mommy. But….” She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to speak up.

“B-BUT DADDY TRIED TO KILL MEEEEE!!” Cries broke out of her throat. “CONTROL YOUR DAMN VOLUME RIGHT NOW!” He tried to grab her arm but she ducked out of the way. “MAMA I FELL AND HURT MY FACE AND MY NOSE WAS BLEEDING AND HE THREW ME IN THE POOL AND ALMOST LET ME DROOOOOOWN!!!!” Tears dripped from her chin as she trembled and sobbed. Eimi just looked at Nami and shrugged. “Well, Ivy. Maybe if you stopped pretending your quirk isn’t there, you could have saved yourself. So I don’t want to hear it.” Ivy was horrified and offended by every word out of her mother’s mouth. “WHAT? BUT MOMMY-” “THAT’S ENOUGH! YOU’RE GOING TO YOUR ROOM!” Before she could run, he grabbed her and carried her to her room as she struggled. “I HATE IT HERE! I HATE IT, HATE IT, HATE IT!!” Once the door slammed close, she hugged one of her stuffed animals tight and cried. And cried. And cried. Until she cried herself to sleep.

Ivy had ever only known Hell on Earth. Her siblings before her were treated with respect. Even her baby brother and even younger baby sister got to see the best from their parents. Ivy was the one that they wanted to depend on. Their goals for her were to make her one of the most famous Pro-Heroes ever. Then use her paycheck to further their lives. She would put them on the map and be their little bank. But the older she got, the more she fought back. Until finally they realized she’d never be able to help them anyways.

Ivy was shunned and kicked out of her home. Forced to learn the way of the world. She made her way through three nice jobs and even college. Out of all the smoke and fire, she emerged through her trials and tribulations and began working at Endeavor’s agency. Her hardships didn’t end there but shortly after, everything started to work out for her.

Her past was filled with evil but it never influenced her to become a bad person even after never getting her quirk. She realized that quirks never really mattered. It was the love that she never received. Love that she’ll be giving to this baby. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if her child ever had to go through what she went through.

The world outside was so beautiful as they drove home. She looked at Enji and smiled. He sparkled in the sunlight. Those beautiful blue eyes focusing on the road while he held her hand up and kissed it. “You’re gonna be okay, Ivy. I love you so much. You’re going to be a great mom. And, I hope i can be a great father. On the fifth try.” The reassurance made her grin. “Thank you, Enji. Thank you.”