#he took moody's eye at least since he couldn't take his life

[katakosmos]

ok buddy time to spill everything about one eyed evan 👮🚔🚨

fifth year slytherin returns to hogwarts and terrorizes students with his new black eyepatch, mhmhm.

i can't get over the very particular and special form of punishment the rosier family has in my head. it's neither physical pain like the blacks nor restriction and deprivation like the crouches, it's an overwhelming feeling of humiliation (here for a more detailed explanation).

it's a ritual, few and repetitive steps. so, when one evening evan sat down to dinner and found in front of him a letter from hogwarts (a reprimand for his bad behavior) and a small glass with a few drops of veritaserum, he knew what to do.

first of all, drink. his family was already waiting, and looked at him expectantly. then, read the letter aloud, as his father ordered him. and last, answer his questions. "did you hide something else from us? ", "yes", "what? tell me"

the words that rolled out of his mouth immediately sounded stupid and useless. felix laughed. and, at the end of the evening, his father was very angry.

when he raised his wand, evan wasn't scared, because he knew what his father wanted to do to him: a simple spell, a shallow cut on his cheek, that would have healed in a few days. he always did this, to further accentuate that humiliating feeling. but emotions influence magic. and so, when alexandre casted the spell, he lost control and hit evan in the face, on his left eye. he didn't even realized it until evan collapsed to the ground, screaming.

it was an accident. which made it worse.

it wasn't the pain that was the biggest problem, but rather the discomfort that followed. his father, who couldn't even look him in the face. and then, that horrible eyepatch. evan couldn't believe that the scarred boy he saw in the mirror was him.

and when he came back to school, everyone was looking at him. the students were whispering behind his back, the teachers looked worried. for the first time, evan wondered if he was ugly. that year, barty became his friend.

the worst moment was probably when regulus, jokingly, tripped evan thinking he would avoid him as usual. but he put his leg in a now obscured spot of evan's vision, and he fell. the silence that followed after was horribly embarrassing.

[zaceouiswriting]

The favorite Bat-Brother?

Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and Brother!Male Reader

Universe: Somewhere in DC

Warnings: Slight Brutality

The warm summer sun shone on the beautiful world. On a day like this, you would usually have been sitting by the pool or challenging your brothers to a water fight, but instead, you were in the garage working on your car to distract yourself from what you saw the day before. 

To say you were heartbroken would be an understatement. For the first time in your life, you cried. You had felt like a schoolgirl as you stormed through the front door of your home and cried your heart out. On your way to the room, you ignored your brothers' and even Alfred's pleas to talk, but you couldn't speak. Since then, you've been ignoring everyone, whether, in your bedroom or the garage, you always had your headphones on.

So it was no wonder someone tapped you or, in this case, gently kicked your leg. That alone let you know who it was, and that didn't help your terrible mood.

As you rolled your board down, on which you went under the car, the light was blinding, but you, thankfully, didn't have to get used to it because Damian came to stand over you, blocking the light. He looked moody as always, but that day he seemed strange. Suddenly, he motioned for you to take out your earbuds, which you did, only for him to squad next to you.

“Do you remember Alek? The tall black-haired one? The one who models part-time?” Damian asked you casually. But his words broke your heart even more.

“You mean my boyfri- sorry, ex-boyfriend?”

“Whatever,” Damian said, rolling his eyes. But before you could tell him to fuck off if he wanted to make fun of you, he suddenly took your hand and played with your longer fingers. It could only mean one thing: he had done something he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do.

"What happened? Did he do something to you? Do I have to punch him?"

Damian looked at you questioningly, as you both knew that as the only pacifist in the Bat Family, you wouldn't do that. Still, it made Damian smile.

“I think he learned his lesson.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him suspiciously because his questionable words made you feel uneasy.

“Someone got to his car last night, you know, the red sports car, where he cheated on you with this blonde girl. That someone scratched his car paint and broke his windows with a crowbar.”

You were stunned, unable to speak, and not knowing what to say. On the one hand, you were grateful, but on the other, you were afraid that he might get negatively involved with the law, even though your family is filthy rich. However, Damian had taken your silence strangely as he was fiddling with something in his pocket while, at the same time, moving nervously and still playing with your hand. You didn't know whether he was excited or nervous.

But since you still hadn't said anything after a few minutes, Damian took his hand out of his pocket, placed it in your open palm, and dropped something into it. As he pulled his hand back, you saw something small that looked vaguely like a small pebble. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. When you raised your gaze again, words were on the tip of your tongue, but when you looked at Damian's nervous face, your throat tightened.

Nothing was said for a moment, but when your eyes finally met, you saw the fear in his green orbs, letting you know you had to say something.

“What is the meaning of this?” You asked him quietly. “Why did you give me a pebble?”

Damian shrugged. "When I destroyed the dickhead's car, he was there too," he finally confessed. “He won’t be doing any more photo shoots anytime soon,” he continued cryptically. “Unfortunately, he was with a gang I was hunting for a while.”

You were stunned. Up until that point, you thought no one cared. You were always quiet and often felt left out of place. Unlike the others, you couldn't hurt a fly. At least not yet, even though you're Bruce's blood son, just like Damian. Although it didn't matter to you, all four boys were your brothers. You still looked after them, helped them when they were sick or injured, lent them an ear or your strength, whatever they needed. But all the brotherly love was never reciprocated. It was the very first time one of your brothers did something for you. And it was the baby brother of all people.

“Why?” You could only ask before a lump in your throat stopped you from making another sound.

Damian rolled his eyes again as if the whole thing was a nuisance to him, even though you knew better now. “I couldn’t hear you crying at night. You know our rooms are next to each other. I hear everything that happens,” he spoke the last part exasperatedly.

“But-„

Damian groaned in annoyance and rolled his eyes so hard he bobbed his head. "Can you just accept it and not make a big deal about it?" His voice was just as annoyed as the rest of his demeanor.

At this point, you could only nod, still in a strange trance. You were sure that this had to be a dream because it couldn't be real life. Damian had gotten up again and was about to leave. But after a few steps, he stopped.

Damian was always the easiest for you to read, so you knew he was reluctant to say something. But as you knew him, he would turn around once to make a decision. And just as you thought, he did just that. Meeting your eyes, you could see his body tensing and then hopelessly deflating.

“It’s not a pebble,” he admitted strangely. Your face contorted in confusion. “It’s a tooth.”

“What?” you asked, confused. Your eyes fell on your hand. “Whose tooth is that?”

“Shouldn’t you remember that?" He asked you dryly. "You tongued it several times in the lounge,” Damian told you, suddenly teasing with a sideways smirk. Only to have his face scrunch up in realization and disgust. You could only laugh.

“And why is there red...color? I believe?"

"Oh." Damian suddenly became more sheepish. “Well, I accidentally broke the idiot’s tooth on his car. Even though I had already destroyed it before when I found the tooth, I took it and scratched it further in front of the dickhead's face, but just to be safe, I followed with a knife."

Damian tried to remain casual, but you could see a spark of pride in his glimmering eyes. At that moment, all you could feel was the same thing: Pride. With a speed that not even your battle-hardened little brother could comprehend, you stood up, scooped him into your arms, and swept him off his feet. You spun in circles, laughing as you watched Damian try not to smile.

“What did I do to deserve a little brother like you?”

You slowly stopped spinning until you placed him back on the ground. Only then did you see the blush growing on his pale cheeks. You nudged him and asked what was wrong with him. He didn't want to talk, so you laid your hand on his little head and ruffled his hair. You told him everything was fine, not wanting to overwhelm him further. You turned to your car but stopped when you heard a whisper behind you.

"What?" you asked, chuckling in delight.

“Because I love you,” Damian whispered again, but this time you heard it. When you saw him look away, his ears glowing red and tears in his eyes, your heart melted. It made you wonder if your brother had always been this cute or if this was a recent development.

Once again, you were in front of your brother before he could react. You pulled him close, his head barely reaching your chest. Tears quickly wet your dirty shirt. It was the first time he had shown real feelings towards someone. You couldn't bear to say a word, so you petted his head instead.

For minutes, the two of you stood there silently, enveloped in each other's warmth. Only when a lightness befalls the atmosphere did you dare to speak.

“And I love you too, little bird,” you whispered in return with a big smile. “And from today, I break my neutrality! You’re my favorite now!”

“Really?” he asked quickly, looking up. His eyes were bloodshot, and his cheeks were even redder than before.

Instead of saying anything else, you kissed the top of his head, ruffled his hair again, and turned away, only to burst into silent tears. You just couldn't let him see you like this, you were still sore from the heartache you had just endured.

***

Damian took it as a sign to leave, but not before hugging you from behind, giving you a tissue, and running away. He went outside and walked back to the main house from the back. When he went back into the main living room, he found Jason and Dick there. He didn't care that they saw him in this mess. Instead, a devilish grin crossed his face.

Both older brothers looked questioningly at the boy, who they believed was the devil reincarnated.

“I’m his favorite!” he announced proudly. His two older brothers looked at him stunned. Then they looked at each other, wondering where Damian had come from. At the same time, something clicked within them. They both stood up simultaneously.

“You liar!” they shouted, not angry but more panicked.

"What did you threaten him with?" Jason asked further through gritted teeth, ready to pounce on the little boy.

Damian shrugged. "I just helped him get rid of a little sadness by beating up his ex," he told them, equally proud. He bathed in their stupid looks before he started whistling and walked away completely relaxed.

The information left the two older brothers speechless, thinking you didn't like brutality. But maybe they had the wrong idea.

Dick jabbed his elbow into Jason's side with a mischievous grin, and when their eyes met again, he couldn't hold it back any longer. “I told you we should have done it ourselves!”

Jason mumbled something incomprehensible before leaving. Dick never thought the other one would be the soft one since he prevented them both by going after your ex, but he had a feeling another chance would soon open up. After all, you're handsome, intelligent, and a Wayne. There are other fish in the sea for you. Maybe, if he finds your future husband, he may finally become your favorite, everything he ever wanted to be. And all your brothers fought about. Only now the war has really begun.

[Masterlist]

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Two Hours - Chapter 1 - Shigaraki x Reader

***

Maybe, just maybe, some things might be worth waiting for.

***

Two hours.

He was late by a full two hours. Meaning 120 minutes, 2700 seconds, 7200000 precious milliseconds wasted of your life. You'd know, you counted.

You glared at the library clock again, as if it was its fault you had been stood up. Disgruntledly, you pushed back your chair, getting up to put your laptop and revision materials back in your bag. It was the last time you'd try and help a stranger because clearly, strangers sucked.

You had done tutoring for different classes since your second year in college. Literature, philosophy, anthropology, history- name it, you could teach it. And you loved doing it like few other things made you happy. Was there anything as wonderful as showing others the beauty of human nature, its creativity, its passion, its sincerity?

"Sincerity my ass," you thought, angrily shoving your backpack on one shoulder. It clunked loudly as it bumped against a wooden shelf, and the librarian threw you a dirty look from the other side of the room. Part of you felt bad; you had spent a while trying to cultivate a good relationship with the older man, since you spent most of your free time in the library. But the rest of you, which was to say almost all of you, didn't care, because you were unbelievably frustrated.

You had had students give you tons of excuses before: they were sick, their mom was sick, their neighbors' dog was sick, and they just had to skip the tutoring session. You didn't mind that; they'd always text at least an hour in advance, and you'd have the time to read their message and go home with a smile, instead of walking all the way to the library. 

But today's guy was different. You knew he had your number and your email address: it was part of the tutoring agreement you had both signed online. And yet he hadn't had the decency, the respect, to send a single message to tell you he couldn't come to the two-hour appointment he himself scheduled. And now, you had just wasted two hours, excitedly waiting to expose the wonders of literature to a guy who couldn't even bother to text you "can't come". 

You gave the librarian a half-hearted nod of apology and headed toward the big glass doors at the front of the building. The weather looked moody outside, the sky grey and heavy like rain could start pouring at any moment. You didn't need to check your bag to know you didn't pack an umbrella. It was clear this was one of the days.

Sighing, you opened the heavy door to walk out at the same moment a man pushed to get in. You tucked your body to the side to keep the door open for him, but he flatly ignored the gesture, walking past you without uttering a "thank you".

"Yup," you thought, "strangers suck."

Before you could take more than a few steps outside, a droplet of water fell right on top of your nose, stopping you in your tracks. And then another, and another, and in a flash, the area was getting flooded, puddles already forming around on the dark asphalt. You couldn't help as another sigh escaped you, bracing for the impact of the freezing rain as you took a step forward into the tempest.

Then, something grabbed you by the shoulder.

You yelped in surprise and turned around, fists instinctively bunching up to your chest to protect yourself, heart racing. It took you a few seconds to recognize the rude guy who had just passed you on his way in.

He was tall, taller than you had first realized. His oversized hoodie made it hard to gauge his frame, the visibly worn-out fabric stretched shapelessly around his torso. Your eyes looked up for a face you couldn't find: the black hood fully obscured his features, and for a second, images of killers in horror movies alarmingly flashed through your mind.

You shoved yourself out of his grip and took a step back, eyes wide. He nonchalantly placed his hand back in his pocket, an unimpressed glare staring right back at you. His eyes were red, bright red.

"You're the tutor, right?"

You looked at the ominous figure incredulously.

"What ?"

"You're the tutor, right ?" he repeated in a low, raspy tone. He sounded annoyed.

You kept staring at him, wondering if he was speaking in a foreign language you had never heard of.

Then, his words started registering.

"Tomura..." you started uncertainly, the math adding up in your head as you remembered the name on the little manilla folder you had prepared for today, "Shigaraki ?"

A small smile etched itself onto the man's face, and you noticed how cracked his lips were, a faded scar going through the dried skin. Strands of slightly greasy hair, white as snow, rebelliously escaped the black hood, and for a second you caught another glimpse of his crimson eyes. But they disappeared back under the shadow of the fabric, and you realized your body had tensed like a rock.

"I'm the guy," he said nonchalantly, the hand you had pushed away going up to his neck and mindlessly scratching the skin there. There were marks there, some old, and others so fresh they looked like they were bleeding. Anxiously, you wondered if instead of a killer, you had stumbled on an addict.

"Hey, so when do we go get a seat inside? It's fucking cold out here," he added, gesturing lazily towards the library.

You kept staring.

And staring.

And staring.

He hadn't possibly said what you thought he had just said. No one was so impossibly clueless and self-centered that they would come two hours late to a meeting and act like they were the one who was being bothered. But the cold rain falling down your face made it aboundedly clear: this was real.

"No," you finally said, enunciating the word slowly.

He looked as confused as you first did, the smug, composed look on his face instantly falling. He didn't look like he was told "no" often, and you felt the flame of anger start to burn inside you.

"What do you mean, no?"

"I mean no," you replied drily, feeling confidence coursing back through your body. There was no doubt in your mind you already looked like a drowned rat from the rain, and that your waterproof mascara was starting to reach its limits. But you weren't about to be scared of some loser trying to look tough with a crusty hoodie and unwashed hair.

"You came two hours late for the tutoring, which lasts two hours. My work slot with you is from four to six, and it's exactly," you snapped, bringing your phone up to his face, "Ten past six, so my work here is done."

He stared at your phone in incomprehension, then back at you, irritation slowly settling on his pale features. His thin brows frowned, and you noticed another scar marring his right eyelid the piercing crimson stare bore into you. Maybe he was some kind of gang member, and if so, was it a good idea to mouth off to him?

"Look, I don't know what crawled up your ass, but I'm paying to have a tutor," he snarled drily. "That's not fair."

You had to wonder if you were even talking to an adult. So maybe he was a killer, or an addict, or a gang member, and he would end up stabbing you for it, but by God, were you going to put that guy back in place.

"Well, tough luck, buddy," you almost spat out, your usually level-headed patience entirely fizzled out, "it wasn't fair to make me wait two hours and then expect me to have nothing other to do in my life than tutoring your sorry ass. But life isn't fair, is it ?"

You turned around, throwing the man one last angry look: "If you want tutoring, then be there next week. On time."

You felt oddly proud of yourself as you walked away, leaving him wet and alone in the rain. And if you were slightly trembling at the feeling of the crimson stare boring through you all the way down the library path, well, you just had to pray he didn't notice it.

---

"Huh," you noted with both surprise and apprehension, "you're here."

And indeed, there he was, slumped in one of the library's chairs, the stranger you were certain wouldn't come to your meeting this week: Tomura Shigaraki.

You had spent a few days feeling bad about the way you had handled things; yes, he had been incredibly late and entitled, but you never gave him any time to explain himself for it all. Maybe he did have a good reason, and maybe he had only acted so entitled because he was having an especially rough day.

One look at the condescending glare he threw you was enough to confirm that wasn't the case.

"Yeah, I'm here," he muttered, looking away, his right hand still ripping away at his neck like the last time you had seen him. You couldn't help but wonder about the gesture, the practiced way his fingers would visibly carve into the skin. Allergies? Eczema?

His vermillion eyes never left your figure as you put your bag down and awkwardly sat across from him, looking down at the carpeted floors. 

"Why are you that surprised ?" he added flatly, "I told you, I'm paying for this shit."

You weren't a confrontational person; or at least, you did your best to avoid confrontation. But you'd been tired last week, and his whole little disrespectful charade had pushed you over the edge. You weren't sure you were up to deal with it again.

Your lack of response seemed to irritate him; he picked up a small handheld console from his lap, immediately busying himself in a game like your presence held no meaning to him.

You took a small breath, not wanting your temper to rise again; if you wanted this to work, you'd need to be the first to give the olive branch. You put on a nice, professional smile: "Let's put everything to the side for a moment, start over. Maybe we could both introduce ourselves again ?"

His thumbs toyed with the joysticks on his handheld, disinterest palpable."Why? I know who you are."

You could have strangled him.

"Nevermind," you smiled so forcefully it hurt your cheeks. "So, you're here for Lit 3250, Absurdism in Literature. That's a fun class."

"I'm only taking it because I have to," he grumbled. "I'm in computer programming. They make us take a class in the humanities department because the education system is fucked."

You raised an eyebrow at that, genuinely surprised: "They're making you do literature in computer science ?"

He shrugged, his eyes going back to the game on the small screen with obvious boredom.

"Told you. The system is fucked."

You pulled out the little manilla file you had prepared for him from your bag, spreading a few documents on the table between the two of you. For a second, you could have sworn his bored expression flickered into something new, but it was gone before you could register it.

"Well, I might not be able to do much about that, but I can try and make the class easier," you smiled a little more genuinely this time as he put his handheld to the side to look at the papers you had slid in front of him.

To your complete astonishment, as you guided him through the material, the man listened, never once taking notes, yet able to answer any question you threw his way in the shortest, most concise way possible. He seemingly absorbed the information while looking wholeheartedly disinterested, like remembering the words was barely any more work than eating or breathing. You had to wonder if the programmer in him coded the sentences in his mind, imputing every word as little lines of binary code, or if he was just this naturally, annoyingly smart.

"Alright, that's it for today," you concluded, noticing you had gone over the material you had planned for two sessions in just the last two hours. "I didn't take you for the kind of guy to listen to a tutor, but you've done a really good job today."

You gave him an honest smile, hoping to finally mend the bridge from last weekend's incident. Instead, he promptly looked away, lips tightening into a thin line.

"S' just cause I need to pass the class to get my diploma. I don't really give a shit about any of this stuff."

If he saw your face fall at that, he didn't show it. He grabbed his handheld and shoved it in his front pocket, promptly throwing his ragged backpack over his shoulder, as if the last thing he wanted was to stay here a minute longer with you.

"I'll see you next week, then," you hesitantly said, more a question than a statement. He didn't look back at you when he spoke with a grunt, already making his way out.

"Whatever."

---

"So Camus' thing is society is fucked, and as soon as you realize it you gotta kill yourself, right ?"

"Basically !" you beamed excitedly, circling a paragraph in the text facing him with the tip of your finger. "It's the idea that when you understand your role as just a cog in the machine in a mindless daily life, you have to either ignore it to rejoin society, or leave society altogether." 

A small smile danced on Shigaraki's chapped lips, as smug and mocking as all his smiles were. You sometimes wondered if his face could ever express pure, genuine happiness, or if it was perpetually stuck with that self-satisfied expression. 

"Yeah, I can get behind that."

It fit him, in a strange way. And he had every reason to be pompous: in three weeks, you had both gone through double the material you had planned for his first sessions, as be blasted each lesson like a simple tutorial fight in one of the many video games you'd catch him play before each lesson.

"Me too, actually," you agreed.

He looked at you disbelievingly: "You? Feeling like you're not a part of society? Give me a break, you're a tutor in university, there's probably a normie award for that."

"Well, even us normies are really just always doing the same thing, aren't we ?" you explained, laying your chin against your hand pensively. "Take the two of us. We always meet here at four o'clock on Wednesdays, at the same library, at the same table. We don't go through the motions because we want to, we do it because we have to, and that's what everyone expects from us. Kinda makes you want to quit society too, doesn't it ?"

For a moment, he said nothing. There was something unsettling in the way his ruby eyes bore into you, like he was judging your very soul. You felt your cheeks unwillingly redden after a few seconds under his piercing stare, looking away in slight embarrassment. If a few weeks spent with him were enough to convince you he wasn't a serial killer, you still found yourself troubled whenever he'd look at you too long.

He finally seemed satisfied with whatever he found looking into you, eyes mercifully leaving your face before settling on something on the table.

"That's a Plus Ultra sticker," he commented flatly.

You followed his gaze to your cellphone, face down, the small video game logo barely visible on the cover. How had he even noticed it? 

It wasn't that you were ashamed of gaming in your free time, but you knew for a fact the entire literature department bore a clear disdain for any media not printed onto pages. They laughed off anything else as childish and a waste of time. Needless to say, you had never shared that passion with anyone on campus before that moment.

But damn, did you love Plus Ultra.

You couldn't help but grin excitedly at him: "Oh wow, you play too !"

"Sometimes," he shrugged with obviously fake disinterest, his crimson eyes brighter than you had ever seen them before."It's not the best game or anything, but it's alright. I feel like the whole hero fantasy trope is kinda overplayed."

He suddenly clammed up, like he had just remembered who he was talking to. The classic sour, haughty look you had gotten to know reappeared on his face.

"I just didn't know any girls played that game," he mumbled.

And there he was, the asshole you had met on that first rainy day. 

"Well," you replied drily, "I play, and I'm actually one of the top All Might players in the country."

His pale fingers tremored at that, the excited brightness that he was trying very hard to conceal back in his eyes. It was so childish it was almost endearing, in a way.

"Well, what a coincidence. I'm also a top All Might player, except I was in the world ranking, last time I checked," he bragged, nonchalantly picking at his fingernails. "Maybe I could teach you a thing or two later." 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the implication of a "later", of a world where you would be together outside of the required tutoring time, seemed to dawn on him. He stammered wordlessly, red spreading like fire on his pale face. It was... a lot more endearing than you would have thought.

"F-forget it. That was stupid."

You couldn't help but soften at that. Maybe, underneath the dirty hoodie and the deadly glare, he was as timid and insecure as you felt he was. The lashing out, the quips, the bratty entitlement- were they all just a facade for a guy who genuinely didn't know how to interact with others?

 "Well," you hummed, "maybe after you're done with your midterms you could come over to my dorm for a match. There's a big communal TV you can pair consoles with."

The cold, detached mask was back, but it was much harder to believe with the pink coloring that reached the very tip of his ears.

"Yeah, maybe."

---

A month passed before you encountered your first hurdle in your tutoring work with Shigaraki, in the form of a "CLOSED" sign glaring back at you from the library's glass doors.

"Damn it," you mumbled, opening up your phone to find an unread message from the faculty announcing a temporary shutdown. Shigaraki, who had taken up the habit of coming on time for your sessions, looked incredibly pissed.

"So the fuckers think they can send one email and be done with it ?" he angrily snapped, kicking the library's plexiglas door so harshly it made you flinch. You took a mental note to never do anything to find yourself on the wrong side of that kick.

"Well, we can reschedule for tomorrow!" you chirped. Perhaps he'd appreciate you trying to put a positive spin on the situation.

The look he gave you could have turned you into dust.

"I'm already here. And I'm busy tomorrow. I have important things to do."

Briefly, you wondered if by important things he meant staying home and gaming. The college's main campus wasn't very large, and in the few years you had studied here, you had never caught a glimpse of him once. He had the kind of dim presence one could easily forget, but if you had passed him before, you would have known.

"I think the law building lets you take rooms for study sessions, " you proposed.

He sighed, voice raspy with irritation. "It's full of pretentious assholes," he replied drily, "and it's almost a thirty minutes walk from here."

"You're kind of a pretentious asshole yourself", you thought silently. It was clear he wasn't going to help or do anything that required too much effort on his part. When Shigaraki wanted to be annoying, he was really annoying.

"You got a better option ?" you mumbled, frustrated.

He looked down at his shoes, suddenly silent. "Ah ha", you thought victoriously, "didn't think so".

Then, words you could have never expected came out of his mouth: "Yeah. Come to my place."

You looked at him incredulously. He looked as surprised as you did, like he wasn't the one who had just talked.

"I live like ten minutes from here," he explained hurriedly, glaring down at the asphalt like it might melt and swallow him whole, "it'll take way less time."

It wasn't as if you didn't know the guy at all, but to say you knew him enough to go to his house, alone, was a stretch.

Although you had been able to shake off your initial fear of him, you still felt something dark and looming in the way he carried himself. For as easy as it was to read him when he was embarrassed or caught off guard, the calculating, sharp gaze he seemed to judge the world with still left you at a loss. Even more so right now, when it was directed at you.

"Ok," you eventually said before you could decide against it. What was the worst that could happen?

At first, you hadn't had much reason to worry; you walked along the main streets that cornered the campus, still filled with quite a few students going about their business. But then, he took you into a small alleyway. And then another, and another, and another, to the point where you couldn't recognize what part of the city you were even in. The buildings you passed had gotten older and older the more you walked, most of the ones surrounding you were now decrepit and abandoned. They loomed over you and Shigaraki, fully blocking the sun, a claustrophobic maze of old bricks and concrete.

You realized that you had drifted closer to Shigaraki unconsciously, your shoulder almost brushing against his. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away, the simple proximity of someone you at least relatively knew reassuring to your mind.

If Shigaraki noticed, he said nothing, his long, lanky legs moving forward without hesitation. You took a moment to discreetly observe the man, his features more detailed now that you stood next to him. The scarring was much worse than you had first realized. It spread from the small glimpses of his forehead you could see behind strands of shaggy white hair, to the start of his chest hidden by his black shirt. In some spots, the skin looked dry, old; in others, it was like it had been freshly ripped apart by sharp and uneven nails. You had found it worrying for yourself, at first, when you thought he was some kind of junkie; but now you found yourself worrying over how much the bruising hurt him.

His hand protectively grabbed his neck when he noticed your staring, thin eyebrows frowning in annoyance.

"Before you ask, yes, I've tried creams and ointment and all that shit the doctors send you to buy at the drugstore. It doesn't work. I know I'm ugly, you don't need to rub it in."

A pang of guilt hit your chest. You didn't think before honestly replying: "I don't think you're ugly."

He looked at you coldly, any trace of friendliness gone: "You think you're real smart playing with me, don't you?"

"No, I mean it, I don't think you're ugly!" you hurriedly exclaimed. "Just, ok, look."

You quickly pulled back the sleeve of your shirt, showing him the inside of your forearm with insistence. His eyes narrowed suspiciously: "What the hell am I supposed to look at?"

"A scar," you replied, showing him the thin pale line that crossed your skin. "I got it as a kid when I fell from a tree in kindergarten. Oh, and I also have this one!"

You tugged at your pants to reveal a darker webbed mark on your ankle, the skin smoothed by time: "That one is really stupid, I got it from wearing heels three sizes too small at my high school prom and falling down a flight of stairs. And I also have this other one-" 

"I get it !" he interrupted, frustrated. "Yeah, alright, you have some scars too, but it's not the same thing as me."

"I know it's not," you replied calmly. "I'm not trying to say it is. But... I don't think having scars makes me ugly. I think they show I've been through something, and I'm still here to tell the story. And I think you might have been through a lot, but you're still standing here with me. So... if you don't think my scars make me ugly, then you shouldn't think yours do."

 

He didn't reply, silently making his way forward. Had you made him feel angrier, or even embarrassed? In one last effort to get your point across, you added:

"I think they kind of make you like Eraserhead in Plus Ultra 3."

That made him stop right in his tracks.

"You...think I look like Eraserhead ?" he hesitantly asked.

You nodded, and his cheeks reddened slightly. He took a few seconds before letting out the next words:

"Don't laugh," he warned you, "or I'm leaving you here. You can just find your own way back or get murked in an alley for all I care."

You crossed your fingers, presenting them to him ceremoniously.

"I won't laugh. Promise."

"I actually decided to grow out my hair to look like him."

Cute.

That was the first word to come into your mind. Cute. 

You quickly chased the very strange and unwelcome thought away, in case Shigaraki interpreted your pause as a laugh. 

"Well," you replied, "when I was seventeen, I dyed my hair bright yellow to look like All Might. I think I definitely got the short end of the stick in the idea department. "

He laughed, honest to God laughed, a raspy and genuine sound that made something foreign in your chest tightened. You started laughing too, and soon, you were nothing but two giggling idiots in the absolute middle of nowhere.

"Guess you're not that smart after all, miss tutor," he commented with a smirk.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, like he wanted to say something else, but ultimately chose against it. He continued walking without a word, and you followed him the rest of the way in companionable silence, never straying far from his side.

---

It was a bar.

Or rather, the remains of something that once was a bar. A dingy neon sign with the three-letter word hung precariously above the door, the large "B" flashing within an ounce of its life. The walls were covered in graffiti and grime, a suspiciously moldy smell seemingly emanating from the bricks themselves.

"You... live here?" you asked hesitantly as Shigaraki made his way towards the building with no hesitation.

"Yeah," he let out, head snapping back around and eyes narrowing defensively. "You have a problem with that?"

Yes, several, including the probability of being stabbed to death here and my remains being found in the back of a garbage truck.

"No, no problem," you said.

He answered that with a grunt. The small staircase that lead to the entrance creaked under his weight, and he pushed the front door open.

"Wait here," he commanded. It was clear the subject wasn't up for discussion, so you opted for nodding along. "I'll come get you when I'm done with something."

It was all starting to feel like a terrible idea. So what if he liked the same games you did and actually seemed to listen to you rant about literature? You barely knew anything else about him. 

You knew he felt lost in society and rejected by the world. You knew his whole face would become red as a tomato anytime he felt embarrassed or flustered. You knew he would bite his lip in concentration when he played on his handheld, and that his leg would bounce up and down like a puppy's tail every time he got close to winning. You knew his eyes were unlike any you had seen before.

But what did you really know?

"You lost ?"

You spun around so fast you stumbled on your own feet, almost falling straight onto the dirty pavement.

The man standing in front of you had sneaked by so silently you had never registered his presence, even with how close he had gotten. He seemed very amused at the way you backed away in fear, your eyes wide.

"No, no I'm fine, I'm- I'm waiting for a friend, actually," you managed to stammer out.

Somehow, he didn't look like he believed that at all.

He was the picture-perfect example of men your parents had told you to stay away from. His skin was covered in dark tattoos, their shapes incomprehensibly mingled with what appeared to be burn scars, seemingly spreading all over his body. In the dark, one could mistake him for a walking corpse, blue eyes glistening unnaturally in the middle of a patchwork face.

The man dragged his cigarette across his lips, letting a dark puff of smoke escape.

"What a friend, making you wait outside in the cold," he commented, the burnt and inked skin around his mouth moving in a manner you could only describe as uncanny. "Pretty stupid of you to hang out with people from here, princess. Lots of creeps in the area."

He moved closer, so close you could smell the tobacco off his breath, and the instinctive need to run coursed through your body.

"No need to be scared though," he let out with a smirk that screamed the absolute contrary. "I can stay with you for a while. Protect ya."

He was too close for you to run, now; if you tried, he could easily grab you with the large hand that was nonchalantly making its way toward your waist. 

"Dabi."

Your head spun towards the entrance at the same time as the man's did. Relief spread through your body at the sight of Shigaraki, standing in front of the door where he had left you. His crimson gaze, which usually never left your form alone for more than a few seconds, was not focused on you, but on the stranger, who looked back at you with an utterly flabbergasted expression. Whoever he was, Shigaraki wasn't happy to see him.

"That's your friend ?" the stranger snorted as he started laughing uncontrollably, like he had just heard the funniest joke in his life. "Holy shit, you're even dumber than I thought you were !"

Clearly, Shigaraki did not find that funny in the slightest. You had forgotten how cold his expression had been when you first met him, uncaring and eerie. This was that, but colder, angrier, like the ripples that started forming in the water as a devastating storm would approach.

"Dabi," he repeated, and his tone was dark, final. For the first time in weeks, you felt something akin to fear at the sight of him, even knowing his anger wasn't directed at you. Had he always looked so unnervingly intimidating?

"Ok, ok, she's all yours, boss," the man finally said as he backed away, dropping the butt of his cigarette before unceremoniously stomping it. "Didn't mean to touch the property."

Tomura silently walked towards you, a rigid, cold hand forcefully grabbing yours and pulling you towards him. He headed back in, fingers so tightly clutched against yours that it hurt, and you followed without protest. You threw one last look at the man he called Dabi, a look of pure amusement on his face.

"Property", he had said. 

The innards of the bar were much cozier than the outside view let on. It was relatively well kept, with a red counter with a few retro-style stools occupying the majority of the space, the leftover corner dedicated to an old leather couch facing a battered TV. With no windows on the walls, the only light came from a few yellowish neons hanging on the ceiling. The room was empty except for the well-dressed man behind the counter, who you could only assume was the bartender. He merely nodded at your arrival, his face obscured by a cloud of dark hair in the dim light, what you could discern of his body barely a shadow against the wall of bottles.

Shigaraki ignored him, pointedly dragging you to a door at the back, which lead to a small, dark corridor. He only stopped when he reached the last door, swiftly turning the rusty knob.

It wasn't difficult to understand it was his bedroom; the only light came from the double monitor screen connected to an impressive gaming PC. With the exception of a few shelves filled to the brim with trinkets and figurines, the walls were mostly bare, the white coat of paint discolored and yellowed. Visibly dirty clothes were pilled up in a corner, as if someone had hurriedly picked them up for the floor and tossed them there in an unsuccessful attempt to conceal them.

"Sit anywhere," he grumbled, looking away. "Or don't. Whatever."

He was even worse at hiding his blush than he was at hiding his clothes. You couldn't help but smile.

There were only two spots you could sit in the room: the expensive-looking gaming chair, which was clearly the most valuable item in the entire bar, or the messy one-person bed, which seemed to not have seen a washing machine in a while. The last thing you wanted was to anger Shigaraki after the encounter with the man outside, so sitting in his gaming chair seemed like a bad idea. You opted for the bed, praying to God the sheets naturally looked so patchy and discolored.

"W-what the fuck are you doing?" he sputtered immediately as you sat, eyes wide.

"Sitting," you replied simply.

"Not there! Are you stupid or something?" he audibly cringed. Damn it, you had made the wrong call. "Just sit on the floor. It's not dirty or anything, Kurogiri cleaned it recently."

You glanced doubtfully at the impressive amount of energy drinks and used tissues littering the room before lowering yourself down out of fear of seeming rude. Briefly, you wondered if Kurogiri was the man you saw mend to the bar. He looked nothing like Shigaraki, and referred to him far too politely to be family. He was too young to be his father either way. Was he both the bartender and the housekeeper?

"But why would Shigaraki have a housekeeper?", you wondered silently

"The guy outside, Dabi," you finally said. "He called you boss."

Shigaraki didn't even bother turning around to answer flatly: "And ?"

"Do you... own this place?"

"Something like that. Here."

He handed you a controller you immediately recognized, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around it just like with the one you had spent countless hours playing with at home. Shigaraki smirked slightly at the sight of you already being ready for combat.

"So, spill it out. What's your tragic backstory ?" you asked, leaning your back to the wall with a mischievous smile.

"What ?" he replied, seemingly caught off guard.

"C'mon," you pressed. "I've never seen you wear anything other than a black hoodie over a black shirt and black sweatpants. You're not subtle about it."

"I don't think you've unlocked that dialogue option yet," he retorted, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "How about you? What's your tragic backstory ?"

You chuckled: "What makes you think I have one?"

"You'd have to be a little fucked up to follow some guy you barely know into a shady bar in the middle of an abandoned factory district," he replied, raising an eyebrow, a wicked smile on his lips.

You couldn't help but smile at that; he was right. "Well, I don't think you've unlocked that yet either, Shigaraki."

"Just call me Tomura," he offered, a touch of resignation in his voice. Was he finally warming up to you? "Might as well if I'm stuck with you for the rest of the semester."

Maybe not. But something felt oddly nice about this, about him, and no matter how weird it all was, you couldn't help but let yourself bask in the strange feeling.

The computer let out a familiar little tune as the game booted up on the screen. Shigaraki visibly hesitated between sitting on his own chair or the floor, ultimately selecting the floor while keeping a reasonable distance from you. You had a feeling he wasn't very comfortable with women. But what he may have lacked in social skills, he definitely made up in gaming: his eyes burnt with fiery passion as the title screen appeared on the monitor, his hands tight around the controller. The look he threw you was one of pure confidence:

"C'mon. Show me what you're made of."

He immediately selected All Might in the character selection, implicitly daring you to do the same. All Might was the most powerful character in all the game, but he was famously the hardest one to master, with his controls requiring intense speed and dexterity. You could tell Shigaraki hadn't been lying about being one of the greatest All Might players; his fingers were already lined up on the buttons for a noticeably hard deadly combo. But you weren't one to back down on a challenge.

"5 rounds. No bonus power-ups," you smiled right back at him, pressing the button to also select All Might. The screen flashed red as the game loaded the fighting arena.

"You're playing a pretty dangerous game, you know that, player two ?" he commented, a hint of warning in his tone.

"I don't intend on losing," you replied with a grin.

And if the wild spark in his eyes meant anything, neither did he.

[camusscigarette]

Violets for Roses:

Chapter I: Bleed yourself out for your sins to leak through

(There's a Prologue before the chapter!!!)

l

TW: Mentions of Child death, mentions of past Torture, mentions of Cannibalism, mentions of religious guilt and trauma, mentions of blood.

❦

As the sunlight streamed through the navy blue curtains, he awoke with a groan. His hand coming to rub the back of his neck, as if a knot was tied in his muscles. He couldn't recall the events of yesterday. He couldn't recall how he ended up in Bedelia's bed. In his boxers to say the least but he knew that the two of them hadn't shared the bed in a way he'd much more prefer to have done so.

Dragging himself out of bed, he only now noticed how cold his side was. Bedelia wasn't here. Normally she wasn't a morning person, that he knew because she never took any early morning sessions with anyone. Everything must be past 11 or 12 PM. It was to be exact 8:02. Where could she be?

He picked up his neatly folded suit and went to Bedelia's bathroom, where he stripped himself of his boxers and stepped into the shower. Letting the cold water hit his body like little needles, pricking his skin ever so gently. His thoughts went back to the letter and the picture he stumbled upon yesterday..maybe if he shuffled through more books he'd be lucky enough to find something.

His thoughts wandered back to the picture. The woman who resembled Bedelia with the child in hand. ‘1928’. It didn't make sense. But then again.. nothing did. The mere thought of Bedelia being alive at that time, pregnant as well..was something out of a world of delusions.

But he couldn't help but think about it. Bedelia. Pregnant? Odd yet.. beautiful. Her belly rounded with the purpose of creating a life. Her already ample breasts fuller with milk to feed the child that she grows inside of her womb, her sacred temple. Her hair healthier. A pregnancy glow that she would bathe in for the next 9 months. She'd be soft to the touch. Sensitive and moody. And her taste, oh her divine taste would change as well. A taste he sought to taste again. The thought of her falling pregnant with his child, his seed that fertilized her ova. It excited him more than he'd like to admit, that even his body reacted to his thoughts.

Switching the water back onto the hot setting he lets those thoughts go with a heavy groan as he leaned his forehead against the marble emerald green walls of the shower. Reaching a pinnacle of ecstacy, a release but no answers and no dreams fulfilled...

°•୨☽♡☾୧•°

Holy Trinity Church was a Russian Orthodox church in Baltimore.

A church Bedelia preferred to attend when it is mainly empty, and the only sounds were the sound of her heels. Click clacking against the marble floor as she walked towards the altar and kneeled on the steps that lead to it.

Her knees pressing against the hard edge of the little steps, her pants making it easier to kneel on the ground though her heals were a different story. But then again, bit of discomfort was nothing to her. She was used to the long and exhausting hours of ballet, where her point shoes would leak red from the overtime spent on her tippy toes while the classical music plays in the background and Madame Boleslava told them to repeat the number over and over again till she felt. satisfied enough with it.

She found herself staring at the golden crucifix, taking in the details of the Orthodox design. A sense of familiarity filling her aching soul as she took in everything. It's been eight years since she last payed the church a visit. Yet her eyes never left the crucifix, a look of anger and betrayal always evident in her eyes as she came to the church and knelt at the altar, preparing herself for confession. Exactly eight years ago she came to confess. Drunk and heartbroken when she found out that one of her daughters killed her other daughter. Her poor Antonia..her poor Natalya..But she was the one to blame. She abandoned Antonia. Just like she Abandoned Yelena. Only Natalya escaped..but a Widow can only be pushed to a certain limit. Can't she? She has lived for far too long to fight off the cruelty she faced. Dreykov was getting bored of her and he was no longer interested in a body to use. He needed weapons and far to many weapons he had..Far too many weapons he had on hand that it became easier to slip out .And she did. But at what cost?

She remembers crying out her prayer, her confession to that very same golden crucifix like it was yesterday..

“My Dearest Father in Heaven,” She began her prayer, her tone wobbly and unsure.

“In this world, a tapestry of shadows, I stand before you, my heart heavy with the lament of my existence. I, Bedelia Du Maurier, confess my sins to you, the keeper of all our souls. I have served a wicked purpose, to seduce and to kill, to feast upon the very essence of those I ensnare. In this tragedy of life, I beg for your mercy, a baptism to cleanse my ledger, to wash away the crimson stain from my hands.” She could feel her joined hands trembled as well as her lowerlip, the familiar burning sensation in her eyes.

“Oh, Lord, grant salvation to sinners like me, who have walked the path of darkness. I yearn for a reprieve from the temptations that whisper in my ear, urging me to end it all. But now, Father, my soul is adrift, and I can no longer muster the strength to care. Your abandonment weighs upon me like a leaden shroud, your punishment, the life you've chosen for me, has been cruel and relentless.” She hated begging, yet here she was. She hated confessing to such weak emotions for she has let herself fall for the only thing she was taught to avoid. Love.

“I weep for my lost daughter, taken from me by the hand of death, and for the two others, not by the Reaper's scythe but by the cruel, twisted existence I lead. The anger and rage inside me now overpower any semblance of repentance, and my confession turns to accusation. You, God, have forsaken me, and my soul screams in torment.” It came out more like a sob, in her drunken state, mind in a haze of despair and desolation, she could no longer keep any of her growing rage in. She has kept it in for far too long.

“In this hour of darkness, Father, I beseech you, show me a glimmer of your grace. Spare me from the abyss that threatens to consume me, and grant me the strength to endure the relentless storm that rages within and around me. May your mercy shine upon me once more, and may I find solace in your divine embrace.”

The memory itself sent a chill down her spine as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her index, middle and thumb fingers joined, she drew the cross. Forehead, chest, right , left, right and joined her hands once again where a small rosary made out of crimson red beads was held in and she began..

"Notre père qui est aux cieux.."

[technowoah]

Taunt

It only takes one time to realize you fucked up.

- ANON REQUESTED!

- WILBUR X FEM! READER BLURB

PROMPTS!

50) "Fuck off... I mean it"

24) "Get in the car" "..." "please get in the car"

⚠︎ angst to fluff, swearing, based on the song Taunt by Lovejoy ❤🐈 its short btw yall

[Updated 3 hours after upload I messed up the prompts sorry yall now it fixed]

She was always asking if he was alright. He always lied to her just to get her off his back for the night, but it was his fault that he wanted her to move in. He has to deal with that all of the time, it was her fault anyways. She made him upset, she made him not alright. She didn't know that. She constantly complained about things that didn't even concern her, she dodged their relationship making it more about her than them.

It was tiring to him. Constantly providing, trying to tie a broken knot, but he didnt let that get in the way of his career, or his friends. There's another issue, he never talked to his friends about her. She accused him of not being proud of their relationship and that became a problem that never got resolved.

Did anyone ever say "no" to her? Well if no one did, he would be the first one to do so. Fuck that.

He listened, and listened, but nothing kept this relationship together.

Wilbur talked to the three people chatting on his discord through his headphones as a soft LED lights flowed through the room. These nights were simple because she didnt have to see him when he decides to stream, he basically has his time set out for himself without trouble. He wasn't ecstatic, he felt horrible, but the facadè was there.

Her on the other hand wasnt happy either. She never got attention from him, and of course she could get moody from time to time like every other human being, but she always took it out on him. Who else was gonna be there for her? He acted like her cared, she knew he was lying. His "caring" consisted of humming and him responding like a default character in a video game. He didn't care, he acted like he never did. She needed that attention and he knew damn well she did.

She wasnt asking for much, at least to her it did feel like it. She knew when she was wrong, but she didn't want to admit it when they were both in the wrong too. They dont get each other, she didnt know why he asked her to move in when he didn't want anything to do with her. Ever since he moved her in he kept her in check like a child, she hated and loved that at the same time. Its true that she wanted her own way, she did what she wanted and gave her attention to whoever she wanted her attention to be. She thought that was fine, but apparently she dosent give any effort to the relationship.

Rolling her eyes at the thought she decided to leave the dishes in the sink dirty. She thought about leaving and finding someone who will get her, yes Wilbur listened to her, but there was no effort. When he's drunk and tries to "figure out what makes her brain tick" ends up in more distaster.

Lying in the couch her mind began to wonder, he always said that she could get away with anything. She always took it as a taunt. Everytime it was brought up. He called it "pretty privilege" and he always taunts her saying she abuses that power.

Her jaw clenched as she recalled those memories. Summoning the courage she brought herself up onto her feet and rushed to their shared bedroom. Taking a deep breath she opened their closet and started pulling her things off of hangers, not caring if she made a mess. She tossed her clothes onto the messy bed that they didn't bother to make this morning.

Bringing a small backpack out from underneath the bed she tried shoving most of her clothes into a bag for a night. In total frustration she emptied the bag and only backed necessities that she would need for the night.

She was tired of him and he was tired of her so she was doing both of them a favor. She made her way out of the door grabbing a coat and sliding on some simple shoes. Shooting a quick text to a close friend letting them know she's coming over. Her friend wasn't that close, but she decided to walk. As she locked the door to their shared apartment she debated texting Wilbur. She didnt want to, but she didnt want him to freak the fuck out because she wasnt home.

( Wilbur )

Me: Ill be back for the rest of my stuff tmrw.

[Read]

She closed her phone and started on her night time journey down the street trying to let everything from the past few weeks go with the cool wind.

Him on the other hand stayed silent. He had just finished his stream and had gotten a text saying that she'll be back for the rest of her things. This was inevitable, one of them had to leave, but to him it didnt seem right. He didn't want her to leave. Something in his heart was making him chase her back, the same thing in his heart that moved her into his apartment in the first place. Maybe it was love, maybe he wanted to persevere and have someone in his life. Something in his mind was telling him that he let go of something special.

Wilbue thought about it as he shut everything off and went to go grab his belongings, before rushing out the door to try and find her. Sadly to his discovery, she turned off her location. He finally made it to his car and started driving towards his house to see if she was around there.

He couldn't call a friend because she never introduced her friends to him. She did that on purpose because of him not doing the same. As he drove down the not so busy streets of Brighton he thought if he could get to know her, pull emotions and feelings out of her and see the real her. And if he cant do that? Who knows what will happen.

He remembers this face she always pulled when he always said "Im alright." She scrunched up her nose in annoyance and he always took it as a taunt because he couldn't figure out the real meaning. They were both going at this the wrong way, he dosent know anything about her and maybe thats the problem, but she needs to calm down as well. She needs to start paying attention to both of them instead of herself.

He was seated at a stoplight until he saw a figure on the sidewalk walking past him. The person looked shocked then kept walking, but even faster this time. He rolled down the window to see it was Y/n walking. Wilbur ran the red light and found a place to turn the car around to follow her. He drove a couple of feet in front of her before putting his hazard lights on and stepping out of the car to confront her.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Wilbur said while getting our of his car.

"Im getting away from you. And what are you doing here?" She said.

"Well I could ask you the same thing. Its not safe out here alone." He calmed down a little. Wilbur's main goal was to get her back home so they can have a civilized talk. He didn't want to be out here.

"Oh? Ive been fine for the past fifteen minutes." She sasser back.

"That dosent mean its not safe!" He exclaimed.

She stayed quiet so that gave Wilbur an opportunity to speak.

"See, I want us to go home so we can have a civilized talk without feeling defensive. I want to get to know you, I know you're my girlfriend and yes, it was my mistake rushing things. Im not putting the blame all on myself either." He finished and she stayed quiet with her arms crossed infront of her chest.

"Are you cold-?"

"Fuck off...I mean it." She said while trying to pass hin on the street.

He stood in her way and he kept doing that every time she tried to get around him. Wilbur saw that she was getting annoyed at his actions. Wilbur held her by both of her biceps trying to hold her still so he could talk.

"You're being childish!"

"Fucking listen to me! You cant just keep walking away from us! From me! This is not healthy!" Wilbur yelled. He let go if her and surprisingly she stayed there.

"Get in the car." He ordered but she stayed silent. "Please get in the car."

She turns around gets in the passenger seat if Wilbur's car. He sighed a sigh if relief and followed her lead. They both got settled into the car and he didn't move. He wasn't going to drive unless she talked to him. After a minute if silence she spoke up.

"I know its- its both of our faults. And i have some things I need to work on. I cant just run away. Also your thoughts of me need to be rearranged, but I need to give you all of me. At leat 50 percent so we can start somewhere. But Im sorry." She said while she looked down at her lap maybe in embarrassment.

In the end they both wanted to fix themselves. In the end they wanted eachother. And they can both see that.

He leaned over the armrest and gave her a kiss on her cheek. She turned to him with a surprise look on her face, like this was the most affection he gave her, because it was true. She grabbed his hand that rested on the armrest too as he started to drive towards their home together.

As the nightly drive continues on and now shes drifting off in the passenger seat as In Love With An E-girl plays softly. She's left too tired to talk with Wilbur and be in touch with her emotions right now, but she'll do it for the both of them this time.

[corysmiles]

Could you believe I actually am back with some Runnaway Experiment WRITING??? :D

This takes place very early on in the story, and gives some more insight into Tommy's life before they escaped (in the comics). Enjoy :D

-------

The experiment was growing years after years, to everyone’s delight. It seemed the first laboratorial human had a decent enough lifespan so that it could be studied in the long run. And so, 14 years, it has been since T0M saw the light of day, and it acted in a similar fashion a 14 year old human would. .

Of course, the many researchers failed to take in consideration an alteration of the most cumbersome. T0M looked human, could understand the english language, followed orders and didn’t complain, asked some questions but the specimen…. was big.

Too big to fit in a human bed.

Too big to fit comfortably in a room.

It went in spurts, which was terrifying the first time. It kept on growing and growing, as scientists hoped it wouldn't take long for it to stop, otherwise, it might lead to a lot of problems. But for the past 2 years, no noticeable change really occurred, which was a relief when the thing was already 25 ft tall. It never seemed to be challenging personality wise, which was a relief, but they still needed to keep him in line.

Hopefully, the Doctor Soot, as well as Doctor Puff took part in daily check ups and made sure he didn’t rebel.

So, every 2 day, they took turns to visit T0M in the room accustomed to its needs.

And both’s reports were excellent! T0M learned more while being as obedient and compliant as ever. Phil couldn’t be more happy with those results.

However, as time went on…. Wilbur failed to mention another kind of teaching he had going on with the subject for the past months.

“And this is called ‘Sadness’.” He held an A3 size paper with a moody smiley drawn on it, the word being written below. “It’s that feeling when our sessions are over and I have to go and you say ‘oh noooo’ in that voice.”

T0M was sitting on his knees in front of him, paying the utmost attention to what Wilbur was showing and saying.

“I hate that one.” He pouted.

“I know,” Wilbur chuckled. “No one likes to feel sad. But it’s a part of life.”

A single hum. Wilbur’s smile turned more sympathetic.

“Do you remember the other ones?” He stood up from his place and put the sheet in one of the dark grey metallic drawers.

T0M nodded, excitedly. He took his hand and poked his fingers as he counted. “ there’s “Happiness”, it’s the good one. And “Disgust”, it’s when I have to eat the weird green stuff.”

“Brocoli”

“That. And then there’s excitement, it’s when I smile real big because you come early.”

Wilbur clapped “Wonderful!” T0M’s eyes were shining stars at every approval from Doctor Soot. Even though T0M’s enjoyment was very appreciated and contagious, but it could be a bit… much, to handle at times.

“Since you understand the basics, I think it’s time for us to start a whole new lesson.” He clapped.

T0M gasped and cheered from the top of his lungs “YEAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!”, throwing his arms in the air and effectively making the room shake from the sheer volume of his voice. When he looked back at the scientist, his eyebrows were pinched and the brunette was covering his ears and curled up, almost in pain.

“...Doctor?” He brought his head close to the man who, after making eye contact, scrambled back until he hit the same drawer he put the papers in earlier. T0M looked at him confused, face still too big in Wilbur’s peripheral.

“I… Tom, I appreciate your enthusiasm when we do our lessons, but if you could prevent yourself from screaming, it would be nice.” He tried in the most gentle voice he could muster without it shaking.

“What’s screaming?” T0M asked, crouched so his face was almost on the ground at eye level with him. He brought a hand closer to the doctor who was still breathing heavily. When his head shot to look at the hand, his body on alert, he froze before saying.

“... Is it a moment when I can’t touch you?”

Wilbur’s eyes were locked on the now frozen hand for a good second before returning to T0M, nodding. “Uh, yeah.”

“... Okay.”

The hand retracted in the following seconds, and soon, he was back in his initial position.

The doctor thanked before regaining his composure. He looked back at T0M, and his expression held remorse. A guilt twisted Wilbur's guts at the view. Thing is, as T0M grew up, people quickly realised he was the equivalent of clingy. He would constantly grab people into hugs and had a hard time keeping his voice down which resulted in a large noise blocker investment. And so they had a rule. T0M couldn’t make any sort of physical contact with anyone without being given explicit permission first. Obviously, most workers considered T0M as a test subject and therefore, wouldn’t give him that pleasure.

Wilbur, though, was not in the same vein. Once he realised how empathic and emotional and human T0M was, he started teaching him things a human teen should need, and started giving him a sort of affection a human teen should have. Which included some sort of physical affection.

When T0M was sad, he would sit next to him or pat his back. It quickly evolved as Wilbur accepted being held by the boy and brought to eye level as long as he was careful when doing so, and ever later, they would hug and wilbur would try to brush his hair at times.

Still, that didn’t make him immune to any of T0M’s carelessness which’s consequences were amplified ten fold due to his scale.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked pitifully.

“I- no, it’s not your fault. It can just be a bit overwhelming is all.” Wilbur explained.

“... what does that mean?”

“It means… when something is ‘too much’. Like when you want to bring Techno very close, but he keeps reminding you about the rule.”

“Oh.” T0M let his head fall. “... I don’t like that.” Wilbur scratched his head. “I want to be so close and show that I’m very happy and it’s all inside and I can’t let it out.”

“Well, here, it’s a bit more of the opposite. When outside, there is a lot and you’re incapable of letting it in.”

“... I’m sorry Wilbur” he mumbled.

“It’s okay, I’m not angry.” reassured the brunette. “I just have sensitive ears.”

“...Everyone has sensitive ears.”

“Well, when you’re a small guy like me, you’re sensitive on pretty much all fronts.”

“... It’s not fair.”

“What’s that?” Wilbur perked.

“When I stop getting big and strong, I want to hug you with all of my will. Like you do with me. It feels nice. I want you to feel nice just like that. I want you to be overwhelmed with happiness. I want to hug you so, so bad but I can't and it's shit. I don't want to be strong, I hurt you if I’m strong. I want to hug you."

Tommy vented, more to himself, and when he looked at Wilbur, his eyes shined, not with joy.

"Oh Tommy…."

It ached. It ached Wilbur to his core that something as simple as a hug was something he craved and still couldn't get. Because he knew. He knew all of the things T0M was missing out on. All the life he could have lived if he was granted freedom. How much he could live and appreciate. It kept him awake at night.

But he was here. Trapped. In a room barely tall enough to contain him, treated like a circus monster. And the worst thing was, T0M wasn't aware of it. Of all the life he wasn't living. How his life was no life and how he thinks this absence of everything is what life should be.

Plato would probably laugh in his grave.

"I promise you. One day, you will be able to do that. I promise you that I'll find a way for you to hug me just like you are a small man too. I promise you that I'll make you discover all of those joys of life, Tom. I Promise you. I will help you. And I'm sorry for not being able to provide it sooner. And I'll apologize for all the years it took for me to get it."

They stared at each other, and Tommy nodded, throat tight and eyes wet.

"And a promise makes sure that it's gonna happen." T0M croaked.

"Exactly, tom." Wilbur smiled. "You are going to live many more things."

The bell rang, and both faces fell a bit.

"I'll see you in 4 days, Tom. We're gonna have a little recap over the emotions you learned and then I'll teach you about relationships."

"Oohh, that sounds nice! What is it?"

As Wilbur packed his little bag, he looked at T0M and simply replied "it's all around you. But I'm not gonna spoil the next session. On that note, I wish you a nice week, Tom."

"Have a nice week, Wilbur! " T0M waved with a smile. "It's nice talking to you."

"It is my absolute pleasure, Tom."

And thus, they parted. As Wilbur walked down the immense corridor (just tall enough Tom could run through them.) He wore a satisfied smile. His small steps resonated, the only sound in the room, yet peaceful enough for his ears to listen to them as carefully as silence. Halfway through, the sound was doubled.

"Helloooo."

"Oh, hey techno! How are you?"

"Doing fine. You seem very happy."

"I am. I made some good progress with T-he subject. I feel like he's learning well. The next tests should have fabulous results."

"Ahh, wonderful. Let's make sure it doesn't learn too much though." He joked.

And at that, Wilbur chuckled, his hand on the man's shoulder. "Oh don't you worry about that, my friend. I can assure you that'll never happen"

"Amazing" techno replied, deadpan. Both nodded their conversation away and walked the rest of their ways.

As he got further away, the doctor's smile turned to an amused grin. His steps resonated, so much smaller than what could be, in a corridor in which the boy just next door should walk through.

"Don't you worry about a single thing."

MEL YES I ADORE THIS AU SO MUCH ITS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!

Poor Tommy but at least Wilbur is helping him :”]

[liptonsbabe]

The light is coming [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Lexington! reader

Chapter 1

Summary: The power of the Dark Lord shakes the entire magical community to its foundations, no one is safe as Lord Voldemort  is so strong and the boy who lived becomes weaker; The magnanimous Order of the Phoenix is in dire need to gather all its members and even to recruit wizards beyond the borders of the community.

Albus Dumbledore knows that amidst the reign of darkness, the light will return to restore all that it took and bring with it extraordinary powers, even if it leaves an aftermath that cannot be erased. The Order of the Phoenix will need all the help it can get, including the help of the mythical (Y/N) Lexington.

Harry Potter's parents were not the only ones killed by the hands of Lord Voldemort.

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings: none

A/N:Hi! A new Bill’s fanfic for you all. This story is finished so if you like this part let me know so and i’ll update as soon as i can! Again, reader’s last name is Lexington but is just for the plot of this story 

English not my mother language so please don’t kill me. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Order Of The Phoenix

Charlie and Bill Weasley had returned from their jobs abroad with the only purpose of duly serving the Order of the Phoenix commanded by Albus Dumbledore. For Bill it hadn’t been a sacrifice to return home, things in Egypt were not going at all well and he only asked for his transfer to an English office to work and at the same time help the Order. It wasn’t the same for his brother Charlie, cause he had to leave all his errands in Romania along with all his beautiful dragons.The journey to Grimmauld Place had been complicated cause, despite not missing anything from the countries they were returning from (with the exception of Charlie's dragons) they could quickly get used to the quiet, anti-Voldemort pace of life that the English magical community was vitiated by.

Both brothers were welcomed by their mother Molly Weasley, with tears in her eyes she hugged them as tightly as she could inviting them into the farthest room possible. Bill remembered Grimmauld Place very vaguely, the only time he set a foot inside the house was when Dumbledore asked him to help him clear the rooms and turn them into curse free spaces where they could quietly discuss classified Order business.

No matter how many times they cleaned that place, the old house of Black would always remain with that grayish appearance and the musty smell of worn wood. Sirius didn't seem to have any intention of renovating its fallen parts - of which there were quite a few - but seemed to enjoy watching the house fall apart. Be that as it may, Bill thought that any place was a good place to plan the crazy moves Albus Dumbledore had in his head.

The room was filled with people Bill had met before through letters his mother sent him informing him of the Order's progress, Dumbledore thought the best way to gain the upper hand against Voldemort's dark army was to recruit wizards who were willing to give their lives to protect the magical community. Surprisingly more people arrived than Bill could have imagined in addition to all those wizards and witches who had already been part of the association for years.

Taking a seat by the door, Bill and Charlie recognized the silhouette of Nymphadora Tonks. Not that it was very difficult to recognize her as her short, straight, bubblegum pink hair stood out among all the others. The metamorphmagus managed to acknowledge the newcomers sending them a warm smile before gluing her gaze on the door.

Charlie elbowed his brother's shoulder

“Dumbledore and his crazy schemes making us come here just for the Order business....”

“It was necessary," Bill cut him off, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, "Do you even know what's going on with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, don't you?” Charlie shook his head “it’s a real mess and you'd know it if you didn't spend so much time with your dragons.

“Don't bring them into this”

“They're some of them now?”

“Yeah, we got a shipment of Peruvian Vipertooths in this month and oh, brother, they're beautiful!”

“Wait” Bill frowned ”Those things doesn’t eat people?

“well yes, but that's only part of their diet, they also feed on goats and cows. We keep them in a cage near the forest because that species was supposedly exterminated after being considered dangerous to wizards and muggles alike, but I think they're beautiful”

Charlie's eyes sparkled and Bill couldn't help thinking that he was the odd one among his siblings. His admiration for dragons frightened him even though he found it adorable at times.

“You know, I'm not surprised you're still single. Knowing you as i do, you'll end up marrying one of those dragons or in the worst case, eaten by one”

Charlie didn't like his older brother's comment.

“What about you? As far as I know, you're not dating someone either”

Charlie's sudden criticism made him clear his throat and settle better in his seat. When they looked over at Tonks, they noticed that she was still staring at the door. Charlie hurried him to answer his comment.

“I met someone” His brother's blue eyes widened, amazed “I mean, we met in Egypt, she was traveling and we only went out a couple of times, nothing important.

“That's what you always say, William” Charlie looked at him mischievously ”No one seems to be good enough for you, huh? Or are you still thinking about someone since our childhood?”

Bill knew what his brother was trying to do and immediately shook his head. He had had this adolescent love for a girl who had left to France without anyone knowing the reasons why. Bill was totally hooked on her, yet the disappointment of her being thousands of miles away from him had broken his heart in a way he couldn't explain. Charlie knew about it, because he was the only one of his siblings who was old enough to understand; still, that didn't take away from the fact that he made fun of her misfortune a couple of times.

“Shut it”

Albus Dumbledore brought an end to everyone's conversations after standing up and clapping his hands a couple of times to get their attention. With a sincere smile, Dumbledore dimmed the lights in the room to reveal dozens of candles levitating all over the place. Bill fell silent and looked at the man

“I know that most of you here had to pause your activities just to attend this extraordinary meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, and for that I want to thank you," Dumbledore smiled at them, "We are fully aware of what is happening in the magical community thanks to the terrible presence of Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore ignored the shrieks of amazement from the audience “That leaves me with the advantage of not having to explain what is obvious to you, so the important thing about this assembly is to make it clear that, despite the magnificent increase in our membership over the past few days, we are still in the minority against the Dark Lord's ranks”

The murmurs grew louder and louder, causing Dumbledore to ask for everyone's calm.

“This doesn’t mean that your help is in vain, what I am trying to say is that we need more wizards and witches to join the Order”

“Where will we get more people?”Asked a witch wearing a yellowish hood on her head, "People are afraid, they're not going to join the Order just like that”

“We'll try to convince them," Dumbledore said calmly. "Of course, all of those who want to join will have to undergo proper training.

“So you're asking for more Aurors?”Minerva McGonagall asked. Professor Dumbledore smiled broadly

“Indeed”

The hubbub in the room intensified for a couple of minutes before Albus Dumbledore called for silence. Bill agreed with everyone that this was sheer madness. It was practically impossible for aurors to enter something as sensitive as the Order of the Phoenix - with the exception of Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody, Bill thought those two were insane - without them reporting every movement of Order members to the Ministry. Yes, the aurors were the best trained people for this kind of work, however, they were the hardest to convince

“Why don't we just make Harry a part of the team?”Asked  Sirius from the middle of the room. Molly Weasley let out a shriek of indignation.

“What are you talking about? Harry's just a boy!”

“Molly, please, the boy knows more about this situation than any of us put together!”

“Even so, it's still dangerous for him”

“It is for everyone. I don't see what difference it makes if Harry is in on it, that way he'd have more support from the Order and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would stay away from him”

-If it is true what Sirius says," Dumbledore interjected, "It's no less true that Harry can't be a member of the Order yet. Not until he fixes the problem he has with the ministry after he used magic in front of a Muggle trying to ward off the Dementors that are getting closer and closer to non-wizards. Right now Harry should be being moved to this place to stay at least until the new school year begins.

“And in the meantime what are we going to do?” Severus Snape asked. Bill raised his eyebrows, noticing how Nymphadora Tonks raised her hand to give her opinion.

“I hope this isn't too hasty, but I've been sending some letters to Beauxbatons College in France in search of a response from the Aurors. It is well known that none of them have been willing to give us their help, but this afternoon I received a letter from one person who is willing to help us in any way she can," Tonks looked at everyone before continuing, "I know that one person doessn’t represent a great addition to our ranks, but I am absolutely certain that she is our best option”

Bill's eyes flicked from Nymphadora to Dumbledore repeatedly. He had that strange feeling that Dumbledore knew who she was referring even though she hadn't said the name yet. Dumbledore nodded a couple of times asking Tonks to continue. She cleared her throat

“She should be here soon”

“We’ll wait patiently”

Dumbledore's nod wasn't necessary cause seconds later the door flung wide open letting in the light from the main corridor. Bill glanced at the newcomer noting your expensive French clothes and your perfectly coiffed hair in a ponytail. His breath quickened as he took a close look at your face and recognized those features he remembered from when he was a teenager. A quick glance at Charlie was enough to confirm that what he saw was not an illusion.

The whole room rose to their feet, and as you entered the room raising your hands to the sky, the room was filled with a bright light that caused everyone to take cover before it blinded them permanently. Bill caught a glimpse of Tonks' pleased giggle before you reached Dumbledore giving him a handshake as a greeting while keeping the light alive with your opposite hand.

Your wand was in your jacket pocket and from your hands an endless fountain of light gushed forth, bringing peace to the members of the order.

The mythical (Y/N) Lexington didn’t needed a wand to have magic.    

[kylosgenesis]

Teardrops on Fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

Chapter warnings : descriptions of death, abuse, blood, and mentions of miscarriage.

Chapter 2: Honey I tried

“When did it start?” Bucky was holding on to the edge of his kitchen table.He felt nauseated with the thought of her, sick and yearning, He couldn't even picture what she had grown up to look like, A part of him was scared of his own emotions.

“It hasn’t yet!”

“ At least not as of this morning.” her mother was breaking apart! Bucky could tell she was very scared and exhausted! He knew that her daughter's well being must've weighed heavily on her, he could see the physical manifestation of her pain. In just a few hours her nails had been bit to the core, and her tears streaks had left vivid and raw tracks around her cheeks.

“Buck! I know this is a lot to ask, but you have to tell Steve! Were worried she wouldn't make it otherwise. This will be her first heat”

He’d almost forgotten his mothers presence in the room, cause he turned around and met her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She'd grown fond of her friend's daughter over the years. After her own kids had left to form their own lives, she could still go to her and relive some memories of her little ones' younger days.

“I know! I'm still wrapping my head around it, but I know what I have to do” agitation surrounded his voice. He didn't know when his heart started to feel like it wanted to jump out of his chest or when he gripped the glass of water that was left on the table so hard it shattered, but it was evident that he wasn't going to be getting any rest that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky parked his pickup in front of Steve's house. It was the largest house in the village, it wasn't Steve's choice, but he'd inherited it from his father, and his father had inherited it from his father before him. Being the house farthest away from the city limits, but right in the middle of the village meant Steve was protected, but could also be easily accessed.

Looking back at his passenger seat he saw Winnifred with her mom cradled upon her shoulder, comforting her best friend through the probably the second hardest day of her life.

“You should stay here Ma, I'll go get Steve” I know he’ll be happy to see you, but I still don't know how he'll react to her'' He opened his tool box on the bed of his truck and pulled out a large fleece blanket. Neatly folded he handed it over to his mother.

“Just keep her company till I come back”

The lights in Steve's house were on, but Buck could hear the sound of wood being shopped and Steve's grunts coming from the back of the property. As he reached his best friend's view, he took a deep breath. It was all gonna be different now, for all of them.

Steve had a large pair of headphones in, and was clearly a few songs deep into his playlist because when Bucky came around the corner; Steve almost lost a hold of the axe he was holding! Lookin at Buck he lowered his bulky headphones and stabbed the axe to the soft moody ground next to the small uncut piece of wood he was about to turn into lumber.

Steve's hair was not as long as Bucky's, and he had taken a liking to a neatly kept beard.

He grew it out as a joke at first! Clint dared him to grow it for a month, and after a month he'd grown fond of the style.So for the past year now, Steve looked less like a young soldier, and more like those lumberjacks from the cheesy romance novel covers his sister Rebecca loved to read.

“Hey Buck, didn't expect you around so late” Steve combed his hair back with his fingers. A nervous habit Bucky had noticed since childhood, especially when he had a lot on his mind.

“Couldn't sleep?”

Bucky was concerned for his friend, momentarily forgetting the reason for his sudden visit.

“ Banner called! Wanda was there earlier today, she wasn't feeling well. Turns out she was pregnant, and didn't know it!

“Steves that's awesome, when is she due ? we need to celebra…” as he looked into his best friend's eyes he saw the pain behind his look.

“She was miscarrying at the same time she found out she was pregnant, Buck. That's the third pup we've lost this year.I don't know how we're gonna get through this, It's getting harder and harder to keep everyone safe, and pretend we're not gonna be extinct in 50 years”

“Steve…” Steve's gaze was filled with a mixture of tears and rage. He took everyone's pain personally. And hearing about Wanda had awoken an unease within his soul. He couldn't fight the problem! How could a man used to protecting and fighting, deal with a problem that didn't require a fight?

“There’s an omega! She presented this morning!

“Who is she?”

“Remember Katerina? She … uhh … after she was exiled from the pack, she had a daughter!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 20 years ago

“We can't just let him die! We have to take him outside the walls! Someone out there can help him”

Joseph was the second in command to Benjamin Rogers. Two of the strongest alphas the entire western district had ever known. Both feared together, but explosive apart.

Benjamin had fathered a son 7 years earlier, a frail boy. He was often sickly and his future wasn’t promised! He wasn't meant to live much longer, the boy had once again woken up sick. A high fever overcoming his small body.

Benjamin had changed after his wife's death, he blamed the boy for Sarah’s death. A man that was once kind, and dedicated to his family, now lived like a wandering dark shadow inflicting cruelty against anyone that disagreed and crossed his path. His pack was strong! But there was no harmony, only fear.

Sarah had been a beautiful alpha as well as Benjamin. She had a hard time carrying Steve to term, at 7 months she fell bedridden and two weeks later, she had a seizure that compromised her pregnancy. Benjamin himself had to cut the boy out of his dying wife. That choice, as his wife laid there lifeless , covered in blood, and cut open like an animal awoke a demon in Benjamin. He saw death in his son's eyes, that is why he could never love him. He could never care!

Katerina took care of his young baby like her own, she had struggled to have a baby of her own so when Joseph came home holding a still bloody wailing baby, she fell madly in love with the small bundle in his arms.

The boy was small, but smart! He picked up words as young as a few months, and as a toddler he was incredibly gifted. Steve excelled in art, and even knees bit of music. Katerina loved to sit down and play piano! A young Steve would lean into her side and follow suit to her fingers on the side of the pano with his small hands. Joseph and Katerina watched him grow up, and took care of him.

Steve got sick often, but nothing too serious!

One day as she prepared breakfast she had a feeling of dread on the pit of her stomach, she ran upstairs to check on Steve and found him comatose on the bed!she wailed as she held her adopted infant son to her chest. Joseph came running to her after hearing her screams. He picked up the boy from her hands and loaded him into the car, with Katerina at his side he headed to Benjamin's house.

That was the first time Benjamin had seen his son since his wife died, his son himself nearly dead!

"Please Ben! He needs help! There's another pack two hours away, they have a doctor that can help him. She can heal him for good, please open up the walls so we can go to her! They both pleaded with Ben for hours, but to no avail!

The man was already covered in anger and reeking of alcohol, “Don't you dare challenge your alpha Joe! If I find out you defied me and left this territory you will never be allowed back”

Katerina couldn't let her boy die! With that warning in heart, she and her husband plotted to get little Stevie outside the pack territory, and to that doctor.

Behind Ben’s back, and knowing the consequences in his heart Joe called the Alpha from the neighboring pack, the other alpha had the resources ready for them to arrive in the morning. His doctor, a witch, was ready to give little Steve the life he deserved.

In the early morning of the night they sped their way through the woods. Once they reached the border a car awaited Rina, a beta from the fury pack was ready to take them to their pack.

Ben had closed the pack off to treaties when his wife died, he believed the world was dangerous and the pack was better off without interruptions, he couldn't even save his wife! His pack did not deserve to be mercied, they didn't deserve to live if she couldn't. So Ben slowly watched his pack become secluded and lost.

In the morning Ben, even drunker than the night before, had shown up at Joe's doorstep demanding to see the boy. Fully convinced he'd be dead by now, when Joe failed to produce an explanation as to why his wife was gone and so was Steve.

Ben lost it!

He called a pack meeting on which he publicly executed Joe, whether it was a display of power or just pure psychopathic joy. Joe’s death left the town broken, when Katerina came back with a healed Steve, she found herself widowed and exiled.

As a last sick jab into Joe’s heart even after his death, Ben took Steve!

As the years went by Steve forgot his early years, he forgot Joe and Katerina!

Steve remembered stories of his betrayal, her exile! How their actions forever changed a pack. He grew up kind, giving, and strong! Even if Steve didn't experience or know much love from his father, he was full of it!

And thanks to that witch both Katerina’s little growing heartbeat and Steve were stronger than ever!

Tags:

@austynparksandpizza @exposition-belongs-somewhere

[bxllafanficc]

¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(part one)

part two part three part four part five. Find the rest on; Masterlist

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

"Remind me once again why we're going to Japan? It's clear you'd never take us there just because you miss Victor and I know by experience that it's not because of his apprentice."

First class flight like usual. The view out the airplane window of the sparkling city at nighttime below them would stun anybody but at this point, Yuri has traveled so many times it's only become regular sights and the lights of the streets are only plain colored spots in a dark void to him these days. One thing he will never feel comfortable with though is staying in the same seat for hours on end until the airplane arrives at its destination. His legs are itching from wanting to move around. He'll just have to jog it off back on the ground like every other trip in the past.

"You'll be spending some time with Yuuri Katsuki and Victor the following weeks to gain your fighting spirit back. You need to get back in touch with your emotions, remember?" Yakov slightly turned his posture towards the Russian skater beside him, folding his newspaper in half and putting it in his lap.

He only nodded with a slight hum. He could see Yakov's reasoning, some parts of it at least. He HAD been lacking in emotional performance ever since the new year began and it was time to get back into the mindset of winning yet another Grand Prix gold medal like last year. No, not last year. Last year's competition was cancelled after a minor pandemic spread through Russia and the nearby regions. In fear of the virus spreading, all competitions cancelled and larger crowded areas were forbidden to take place. Therefore Yuri's only been able to practice by himself and keeping himself fit for a possible competition next year. But a year of doing nothing can really change your spirit and afraid to admitting it to his coach, he's been missing several opportunities to hit the rink and stayed home watching anime or scrolled through social media instead.

But one thing he doesn't get is how Victor and Yuuri are gonna make him get his mindset in the right track again. He already won his first gold medal at his senior debut and he doubt that the Japanese skater will be in any better condition than Yuri's currently in right now. Pig-man must've been in a much worse state considering his boo Victor had to stay in Russia during the pandemic, unable to keep an eye on Yuuri's routines.

"Besides, there's a little surprise waiting for you where you'll be staying with the two of them. It better work out fine or else I'm out of ideas."

That caught his attention to say the least.

"Well if it's supposed to save me from the deep end then why be so secretive and hushy with it? Spill the news, Yakov."

The old man only grunted and picked up his newspaper once again and hid his face behind it. Well now he really wanted to know what it was. Clearly he would have to make some effort. Soon the article about a Russian charity event taking place this weekend got replaced with a clenched fist going straight through the back of the paper. Yuri expected some kind of reaction but Yakov only sighed and leaned back in his seat without even a flinch.

"It's no surprise if I tell you. I promised Victor to keep it a secret."

"Tell me."

"No."

Yuri groaned and folded his arms with a sour glare. The display in the ceiling told the traveler's that it was 10 minutes until landing so he gave up his attempts and let his eyes rest for a while. At least he would find out tomorrow, he assumed. It was 2am and he would be staying at a hotel close to the airport since it was too late to make rest of the trip in one day.

Yuri was out with the speed of a lightning bolt the second the plane doors opened. He sped past everyone before him and he didn't stop when he finally got outside. His feet carried him to run circles around the plane meanwhile he was waiting for Yakov to get out the normal way. It's a silly habit of his and he knows he looks stupid doing it but his coach has given him strict orders to not run away at one random direction like used to do at first. It would take like half an hour for him to be found once he took off, but only if he got lost.

"Yuri! Get over here!"

Well, there's his cue to get ready and head to the hotel. Finally he's able to get some sleep before he's forced to wake up early at dawn to head to Hot Springs and meet the two most annoying people in Japan.

...

He didn't even have time to eat breakfast. He overslept and got rushed to the cab with an angry Yakov behind him, newspaper folded tightly in his fist. The trip through the beautiful Japan would've been pleasant if Yuri hadn't dozed off every 10 seconds. He didn't get much sleep after all. He spent at least three hours thinking about the special surprise and raiding the free mini bar before he finally got to rest. At 8am he was woken up with banging on the door and now, at 10am, he was standing at the entrance of Hot Springs waiting for Yuuri's mom to announce their arrival. She hurried away somewhere with her usual bubbly happy self that Yuri had no idea how a person could be so... not moody all day long.

The place was as crowded with customers as last time and the two Russians were told to step inside to the more private parts of the building where the family lived along with Victor at the moment.

"Victor! How come my brand new lotion is used? You smelled a suspicious amount of peaches and wild berries at breakfast and there's no point denying it!" A fairly soft and modulated voice was heard from somewhere to the left where the private shower stalls were located. A couple seconds later a giggly Victor and Yuuri came through the direction of the living room and greeted Yuri with happy cheers. The slender white haired Russian caught Yakov in a bear hug, much to the old man's surprise. Yuuri extended his hand towards Yuri but Yuri didn't give any effort in taking it.

"Food. I'm starving."

Yuuri dropped his hand with a light blush but Victor pouted and let go of his former coach. Strong and clingy arms were suddenly wrapped around his chest and he couldn't breathe.

"So unpolite... Yuriooo we've missed you! Haven't you missed us?"

Yuri thrashed like a fish caught in a net and tried to hit the arms of the bastard trapping him. Yuuri joined in, only to get a kick in the hip. His stomach growled angrily and the endless void in his body didn't lighten up the experience a bit.

"Let go you old man! You too piglet!"

"I hoped you'd say it out loud but I know that deep down you've been missing us, Yuriii." Victor went to whisper in his ear with pouty lips but was swatted away by a backhand in his face. That finally caused him to let go and Yuri jumped out of reach for the two males.

"Hm... Or not." The expression he got from Victor was sad and pouty and the man earned a hand on his shoulder, put there by Yuuri. Yuri could only sigh and shake his head.

"Victor! Did you steal my shampoo too?! I will- Oh? What now?" Yuri turned around abruptly by the unfamiliar yet familiar voice behind him. His eyes widened.

The girl was standing to the left of the hall, seemingly coming from the shower. A curious hand rested against the wall beside her and her face was covered in a grey clay face mask, a toothbrush lazily hanging from the corner of her lips. Her (h/c) eyes glistened with mild shock along with her mouth hanging slightly open.

"You are early... Victor, you told me they would arrive at 1pm1!" She pointed a strict finger at the tall man who scratched the back of his head with a hesitant laugh. Her eyes narrowed and she grabbed her toothbrush. Because even if she was standing unprepared in front of two strangers, she would at least not forget to brush her teeth in the process, as you do.

Yuri might've considered it normal if it wasn't for that she was almost naked. Two towels were the only fabric hiding her, one wrapped around her dripping figure and the other tied up in her hair.

"Yeah, about that! I kind of mixed up the time of their arrival and your meeting with the press, that's, by the way now when I think of it, not actually cancelled but later today. Silly of me to forget, right?"

She eyed him as though her bullshit meter was ticking in the red zone and let out a huff. Yuri had to advert his gaze when it suddenly felt intruding to eye her the way he did. He also turned away because a light tint of pink was creeping up his cheeks.

"Right. Thanks for the early update. I appreciate it, really. I'll be with you again in 30 minutes. Don't wait up for me." And with that, she was gone. The silence of the men maintained for a few moments until Yuuri coughed with an awkward smile, his red cheeks still visible even after the girl had disappeared. 'It's a little weird to blush at your almost naked sister' he thought.

"So food, right? Mom is preparing pork cutlet bowls for you, Yurio, since she remembered how much you liked them last time-" He didn't have to say it twice. Yuri was off to the dining area before the man even finished saying 'pork cutlet bowl'.

[cherry-ber]

“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy?”

Pairing: idol! Mark Lee x female reader

Plot: Lonesome creeps into everyone's mind, even those who seem to have it all.

Genre: fluff mostly, angst.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, extremely painful for me to write this since I feel lonely idk if that triggers you too.

A.N: inspired by the first draft of too drunk to fuck and my bff's dependence of wine to exist 😳 this took me 10 hours to write but it might still be pretty shit. And yeah Clueless some how

After a long, long week of continuous recordings, dance practices, re-recordings and photo sessions, all he wanted to do, was sleep for twenty hours straight. He knew that he was a very lucky man, he was really living the dream. Not everyone was able to do what they loved, with people they genuinely liked, and still get payed for it, but he was. He had always been grateful, he knew the real value of things in real life, and sometimes he felt like he didn't even deserve it.

An insane amount of people knew his name, knew him, and constantly made sure that he knew how appreciated he was, but he couldn’t understand it at all. Sure, he proved himself over and over again how great he could be, and he was proud too, but why did people really loved him? Sometimes it's easy to lose yourself, but lately he was struggling even more, he felt lost and unworthy, he felt guilty, even, because he shouldn't feel this way.

Mark was home alone, after his friends went out to have dinner and drinks. He excused himself out of the reunion saying that he would call his parents and then heading straight to the bed. He wasn't lying at all, he did have a small call with his family, and then went to his room, expecting that he'd fall asleep soon and forget about what he was feeling, he was done with that for today.

He played a movie in his computer, knowing that whatever it was, he wasn't paying attention anyway. He hated to admit it, but he felt like he was missing something, rather, someone. He felt ridiculous, knowing how much people loved him, how many friends he had, but he couldn’t help it, he would be lying if he didn't say he could use a little company. Mark was busy most of the time, which, although tiring, was an escape from his loneliness, it was moments like this where he'd have enough time to sink in this small puddle of angsty feelings, that just grew until it was as big as an ocean. He couldn't explain why he felt so bad, he had enough friends to count on, and even when he considered he was only in need of a physical affect, it turned out to not be the answer, even when he masturbated, when he was finished, those feelings were still there. As the movie went on without him noticing, he turned his head to the side, and imagined someone next to him, wearing his clothes and stealing his blanket. He giggles, imagining cuddling someone to sleep, their heat making him feel home. He finally closes his tired eyes with a smile, hoping his dreams will be sweet and last long.

He wakes up in a bad mood, and doesn't really want to talk to anyone, his older friends notice, and decide to let him be, they know that if something is really wrong, he'll come to them eventually. After a quick shower, he decided he needed some privacy, some time alone, despite being scared of being stuck with himself, and went out on his own, ignoring the texts on the group chat, where everyone wondered where he was going. He had breakfast in a small Cafe, went to a movie matinee, an art gallery, a theater play, and then to a mall to buy himself expensive clothes. He had an okay day, and he grew a little bit of joy, finding himself alone and still almost enjoying his time, but mostly, ignoring his mind when he saw a couple, and wished he could have that too. He enters a restaurant, intending to order something take out for his friends, as an apology for being moody and worrying them. He waits stand up next to the door, with a cup of coffee they offered him, until he suddenly turns around after hearing his order being ready, and ceashes with someone as he does. He spilled his drink over his and their clothes. He starts apologizing, but all he gets as a response is a soft, sweet giggle. He looks to the stranger's face, and is met with a fond smile.

“It's okay, go get your food, I can fix myself”

He's caught off guard, and all he can do is shake his head yes and do as he is told, coming back to them, apologizing again.

“I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry” he's totally embarrassed, and he feels a blush running through his face.

“It's alright, it wasn't your fault”

The stranger walks inside to take a table, and he rushes out, walking back home. That giggle makes its way to his mind a couple times as he arrives.

After eating, he goes to bed, feeling somehow full with himself, but he doesn't know if it was after forcing himself to like him, or if he was so desperate for someone that a small interaction like that would get him sleepless thinking this person would be his person.

On that same week, he founds himself running into that same stranger everywhere. When he goes get coffee with his friends, when they go to buy groceries, when he heads to the studio, and he wonders if he should be worrying, but decides not to.

Surprisingly, he founds her again, when he is entering a new coffee shop, and she walks her way out. He opens the door for her, and is met with her fond smile again, that grows larger as she recalls his face. She mumbles a sweet 'thank you' and keeps walking. Some courage grows inside Mark, and blurts out whatever his brain was fast enough to say.

“Thanks for not spilling that coffee back” the young lady finds the sentence, although awkward, funny, and turns back to him to reply.

“Maybe I should pay for your coffee, though, you were enjoying it until I crashed into you” Her melodic voice is enough to put Mark in a trance, and loses control of what he's doing, disconnecting from his awkward self.

“Actually it was my fault” he giggles remembering how sweet she was, even after Mark probably just ruined her day “Did you get a horrible stain?”

She walks closer to him, small steps that make his heart beat faster.

“It wasn't horrible, I wouldn't say that, it was just, slightly bad”

“I don't want to be a weirdo, are you busy right now? I could use some chatting, and I really owe your laundry money”

She was never an outgoing person, but she was flattered by his proposal. She was meeting someone, but she figured it wouldn't be important enough to not cancel.

“I would love that, but you owe me nothing” she giggles and walks beside him into an empty table.

“I'm Mark, by the way”

“I know that” she laughs it off, attempting for things not to be awkward “My name is Y/N”

It was only after several months, that Mark found himself, again, over thinking about how lonely he was, and how desperate he was for it to end. Whenever he had the chance, he'd spend time with his new friend, and for some weeks, thats was enough, until he realized that, all she wanted from him, was a friendship. His friends noticed, too, how after a while, that wasn't enough for him, but he was terrified he'd lose her, but they'd often try to help him out in whatever way other men would think was best, teasing her when she was at the dorms, insinuating how cute of a couple they'd be, and shamelessly asking if by any chance, she'd have feelings for him, never really giving away Mark's crush on her, not explicitly at least.

One afternoon, when they were all watching a movie together, when suddenly, Johnny and Taeyong convinced everyone to go out and have dinner, even after Mark suggested they just called the restaurant, because he was too tired to go out.

“Oh” Taeyong said, grabbing his keys and putting on a hat “then you can stay here with Y/N and order something and we can take our time”

The girl was a little disappointed, she loved spending time with the other guys two, but she agreed, knowing that Mark wouldn't want be convinced to leave the couch.

She sees then leave, and turns around to look at her friend, somehow aware of what his friends were trying to do; leave them alone, after last night they discussed Mark should just accept the reject, and confess. The boy asked, pleaded and begged them not to leave them alone, after he opened up about his feelings, but of course, his friends thought they'd know better.

“Can you order pizza while I take a shower?” his attention called back to where he was, as the sweet woman walked into the living room, with a bottle of wine and two cups. Mark chocked in his spit, when the thought of her showering, and how much he'd love to enter the scene, crossed his mind.

“Yeah, sure” he watched her walking away “Do you want some clothes?”

“Well, if I could steal one of your hodies tonight, I wouldn't mind”

He does as he's asked, calling a pizzeria and taking off his hoodie, hoping that she'd appreciate the smell of his cologne, that he wears only when she's coming around.

When she comes out, wearing her jeans and tank top, he throws the sweater at her, she puts it on and sits in the couch next to him, ready to start eating, reaching out for the bottle to serve them a cup after the first bite.

“I don't want to drink that” he'd never been a fan of alcohol, he knew he could use a boost, but he was still afraid of it.

“Huh? Why is that?”

“I don't drink wine” She recalled how he'd often drink with Johnny and her, whenever Johnny wanted to open a bottle, which happened quite often, but decided not to insist, although she did pour a cup for herself.

Mark, and any other men, really, always wondered what could she be thinking about, she was wild, energetic, but calmed and peaceful, she was always kind, but wouldn't hesitate to start a fight if to defend herself or someone else, she was never scared, but she was sensitive and fragile. He couldn't help the sigh that left his body, remembering why he had feelings for her in the first place. He knew how much she'd hate to be in a relationship, they had already discussed it, after some girl confessed to Mark, and she mentioned how relationships to her were useless, since she got all the love she wanted from her friends, and that way, she made sure that all the love she gave was reciprocal. When he told his manager about his feelings, expecting him to give him helpful advice, he just told him to forget about her. “women like her are too complicated, it's not worth it”. He wondered then, how many other guys would think the same, and refused to be one of those.

They were both full, and cuddling in the couch, she was sipping her second cup, when Mark suddenly poured a cup for himself too, and drank it in one large sip. He felt a rush through his body, his face flustered, and a numb sensation in his limbs. He was trying to keep himself still, but the sudden alcohol in his body made him bubbly and the woman next to him realized. The cheesy romcom that was playing on the back made him giggle in every other scene, and with every minute that went by, he felt looser and looser. He served another cup and drank it just as fast as the first one. Soon, he found himself leaning towards the body that sat next to him. Y/N pat her thigh, inviting Mark to rest his head there, which he did, while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy” he lets out in a serious tone.

Giggly, his friend shakes her head no, and places her cup in the table in front of them. “Do you feel like sexy?”

He sits himself back, eyes wide open, same serious expression in his face.

“I guess so?” he laughs at how dumb he must sound “I feel... Jiggly”

Her sweet, loud laugh fills the room, and Mark is proud of himself for making her so happy.

“Love, you should go to sleep already” he feels his face hotter and hotter, and can only imagine how red he must be “you were already tired, I'll clean up and meet you in your room-”

Mark bursts out of his bubble and speaks

“Don't do that” he says softly, as if he was genuinely hurt by her words “Please, don't do that”

Worried, Y/N walks closer to him, “Do what?”

He looks down to his feet, feeling tears forming in his eyeballs, product of his low alcohol tolerance, and his overall emotional state. “Dont call me love. You don't love me”

She reaches for his hands, attempting to make him look straight at her eyes “Of course I love you Mark”

“Not the way I want you to”

She had never been good with other people's feelings, especially romantic feelings, she had a hard time catching indirects.

“In which way is that?” hesitant, Mark stares at her for a couple seconds, before staring at her lips, too numb to do better, he grabes her chin and pulls her closer to him, a sweet, slow kiss surprising her as much as himself. When he pulls away and expects a response of any kind, all she can do is try to look at him.

“Oh, Mark” she finally manages to say “is this the way you feel?” he nods, still nervous but hopeful that she'll feel the same “You're drunk, go to sleep” she turns around as she cleans as quick as she can, as mark makes his way to his room, or to the first room he sees open.

Before the other men living in the dorms arrive and ask questions that she doesn't want to answer, she leaves, leaving a post it note in the fridge for Mark”

“Drink water and have a painkiller,

I had to go home. Thanks for the wine

-Y/N”

Too many weeks after, Mark calls her phone one more time before he enters the dorms, wondering if he had really done the worst thing in the world, for her to ghost him like that. He let a tired sigh out, grateful that he was home alone again. He goes to his room, ready to sleep for as long as he can, but when he opens the door, the lights are on, and in his bed sits what could be only described as an angel, beautiful as always, smiling and kind Y/N, with a cup of wine in her delicate hands, and another one on his nightstand, that she offers him as he's taking off his shoes and sweater.

With pain and regret in her eyes, as he's taking the first sip, she attempts to break the silence. “You ever notice how wine makes people feel sexy?”

[kurokensimp]

Warnings: Heavy angst, anxiety attack, major character death.

Note: Texts in italics and crossed are text messages. Texts in just italics are flashbacks.

SUNFLOWER~

Koutarou.

Come quick.

It's Kuroo.

That day Kenma ran, as if, if he didn't, he'd lose his heart forever.

It was the day Kuroo had gifted Kenma a kitten, as he'd always wanted one, but would never make it obvious. Typical Kenma. A smile crept up on his face, reminiscing on the golden days. Kenma was smiling in that picture and Kuroo's heart ached looking at that bright smile. It was a rare smile and he was glad it was only reserved for him. A smile which made the sides wrinkled and sadness forgotten. A smile from the sunflower of his life. Everyone had a sun or star in their life but no one appreciated flowers and that made Kuroo sad. He fucking adored sunflowers, just like he adored Kenma. He still remembered how he didn't sleep that night and instead spent it with Nisshoku (meaning:eclipse). He was matte black in colour and both of them had fallen for him on the first sight. He felt his eyes stinging lightly and slowly caressing the picture stuck on the wall,took in a deep breath. His eyes moved onto another picture.

It was the last picture he had taken with Kenma as a third year in Nekoma. Kenma was super moody that day, not wanting to talk to anyone. Including Kuroo himself. He chuckled lightly. Kenma was super awful at showing his emotions but Kuroo knew him well enough to understand his feelings without words needed. He knew how Kenma was not comfortable with confrontations and wording out his feelings and Kuroo didn't need them as long as he was next to his sunflower. As long as he was next to his sunflower....... He took in another shaky breath. Something odd caught his eye this time.

Shifting his eyes to........ a pocky sticks packet...? Kuroo examined it with a closer look and suddenly took in a sharp breath. He stood that way for a while, mind foggy, unable to construct basic sentences. He suddenly remembered Kenma specifically being interested in that one pocky packet those many months ago when........

His brain had become all soggy and the neurotransmitters and receptors had decided to stop functioning properly. He could feel a lump form at the back of his throat. How he had managed to not break down till now, he doesn't know. It was the day when they had shared their first clumsy kiss after Kuroo had teased Kenma by hooking onto his pocky and making him all flustered. He loved to tease Kenma. However, things got intense when Kenma didn't move back and instead initiated the kiss with the pocky stick in between, resulting in both of them choking on it. Nskakajakakakaa. Kuroo could never forget that day, seemed like neither could Kenma.

News reporter: A latest breaking news has come in stating how a train coming from Miyagi hit an eighteen year old boy who seemed to have been in a hurry, ignoring the level crossing and resulting in an unfortunate accident with the train. The boy has been identified as Kozume Kenma, a student of Nekoma High, also known to be the exceptional setter of the Nekoma volleyball team. His parents.........

The rest was drowned by Kuroo's racing thoughts and the oncoming anxiety attack. It felt as if he was falling down Tartarus, his heart taking days and ages to even reach the bottom. The fall was sucking the breath out of him as he felt his lungs constrict and twist. Every breath felt harsher and more painful as the milliseconds passed by. He knew no longer knew how 'normal' felt.

Screwing his eyes shut, he took in another shaky breath, as he went over the meaningless and hollow content of everyone's lines; "It wasn't your fault. Don't beat yourself up for it." His brain was wired differently...or maybe in the correct order because it WAS his fault. It was HIS OWN fault; and everyone sugarcoating it just did the part of the salt on his irrecoverable wound. He hated it. He hated himself and his supposed "pranks" and his arrogance and his definition of "light fun" and a world without his sunflower.

It was all just a prank... Or at least it was supposed to be. This one incident took away whatever sunny nature he had in himself, and maybe from Bokuto too. Bo was crushed beyond words and his emo time lasted more than two weeks. They were supposed to send a 'come quick' text, saying it was an emergency relating to Kuroo. Kuroo knew his sunflower loved him and didn't need to say it out loud. But his concerns stretched so far, he had never fanthomed. Maybe it would have been better if he hadn't love him so much. He would have been safe at least. Present in this cruel world at least. Kuroo hated how everyone thought that it was just Kenma, Kuroo would be fine.... How did one come up with such thoughts, he'd never know. He was baffled everytime seeing how shallow some people were. Just because he wasn't much of an enigma like Hinata or Kuroo himself, they thought so little of his sunflower. A tiny part of him was glad that his sunflower no longer needed to live amongst such people, but a major part of course left him beyond heartbroken.

Being in Kenma's room took more of an emotional toll than he had expected. What was he even expecting? His wall was littered with their pictures and tiny things which Kuroo had bought for him. The ones which couldn't be hung on the wall, went on his bedside table. It had been a while since he had come to Kenma's room, so it wasn't a surprise how it much it had changed. It has been a month now. It feels like only yesterday he saw the annoyed look on Kenma's face and feels like a whole year he lost Kenma at the same time. With heavy limbs, the same hands with which he played with Kenma's smooth hair and made different hairstyles, took everything off his wall, boxed them up and planned to take it with himself. Turning back to reach the door, his foot hit something and he shouldn't have looked down. He shouldn't have been here in the first place. He shouldn't have done anything.

Kenma's volleyball.

It was all it took for Kuroo's facade to break and his heart to finally snap. That day the room felt anguish and pain like no other time. Time crumbled around him as if not wanting to do anything with Tersurou Kuroo anymore. The room seemed to close in on him and his world started moving, his vision blurry and turning into tunnel vision, his heartbeat erratic, his breath shallow and breaking, his world tumbling, his sunflower crushing. That day he cried like he had no one to hold him, like his golden days ended forever, shutting the light from his life forever.

He missed his sunflower.

Placing the customary flowers on his grave, he sat down on the smooth grass. They stayed like that for a while, Kenma just out of reach and Kuroo finding it harder to stop himself from digging up the grave. The graveyard was silent, unlike his mind. Kuroo had never liked the silence, it reminded him of his mother's absence. It really was silly; an eighteen year old still becoming jittery in the silence because of his mother who disappeared years ago. But he never stopped to think of other's judgments which came so easily to them. Kenma always somehow knew all of Kuroo's weak spots and therefore always accompanied him everywhere, even if he didn't speak much. His presence had made up for it and he had found it comforting.... He dug his nails in his sweatshirt and hung his head between his legs. Everything stood still for a while, when he felt soft light taps on his bare hands. Squinting up at the white sky, he saw snowfall. His gaze was somewhere far off. He remembered Akaashi telling him how Winter signified death and loss. Alas, nature was weeping for his sunflower too. Or maybe not.

Kenma's mind was rattled while running that day. Death had halted his steps. Will he ever get peace?

The thought crushed Kuroo.

Mystified by the mocking nature of nature, he let the snow envelop him.

[tomholland20]

Chapter 2: A beautiful evening!

Cast:

Peter Parker: Tom Holland.

(Peter's aunt) May Parker: Marisa Tomei.

Y/n: You/ reader

(Y/n’s dad) Tony Stark: Robert Downey, Jr.

(Y/n’s mom) Kathryn Stark: Jennifer Aniston.

(Y/n’s brother) David Stark: Shane Harper.

(Peter's best friend) Ned: Jacob Batalon.

(Peter’s best friend) MJ: Zendeya

Warning: PG-13, bad language, violence, sadness, kissing, etc...

Credit: My best friend Anjali, who helped me with this story!

Before you start reading and you haven’t read this story from the beginning please go and read it from there it will make more sense!

Note: Hey guys, so I wrote this story for Marvel and Tom Holland/Peter Parker fans! I just want to say that this is just a fun story for entertainment purposes. I mixed everything up in this story, their love, action, drama, and more. And as you can see by the cast, I mixed it up. This is a story about Peter Parker and Y/n (your name) story. I hope you like it!! If you want a girl and a Peter Parker version tell me and I will do one........

Summary: You move to a new school where you find yourself falling in love with a guy named Peter Parker and can’t get over him... You and Peter knew each other for 3 years because he had an internship with your dad Tony Stark but you never really talked to him. One day during a scary fire that takes place in the mall. Spider-man (Peter Parker) comes to save you from the deadly fire. Later on in the story, You find out about Peter Parker being spiderman. This story is full of drama, romance, love and more, I hope you enjoy it!!

Chapter 2: A beautiful evening!

After 2 weeks of going to school, you and Peter became close. You also became close to MJ Peter's best friend as she was in the same drama play as you. Peter and Ned both forced you to watch Star Wars, which you really liked. Everything was changing, you were finally smiling genuinely and you were getting over your ex. It was like a new beginning for you. People at school liked you, you were smart, good looking, and nice. You were kind of popular as you’re Tony Stark's son.

“Hey, Y/n!” Peter yelled across from the school hallway

“Hey” you replied. “What happened, are you ok?” You asked, Peter looked tired and he was out of breath.

Peter: "Yeah I'm ok, umm do wanna come over today? I have math homework and I was thinking maybe we can do it together?”

Peter was so timid when he started talking to you, even you were shy when he asked you to come over.

Y/n: Yeah sure... w-what time?

Peter: Is 5 good?

Y/n: yeah! Well, 5 it is then!

Peter: Sure! See you... bye.

Y/n: bye…

5:00pm

It was finally 5 pm and you were ready to go to Peter's house. Happy your dad’s assistant dropped you off at Peters place. “Ok, y/n I want you to take care of yourself and be in your best behavior.” You were a little curious as to why Happy had to say that but you agreed with him and went inside. You were in front of Peter's doorstep, you took a deep breath as if you were going on a date with him. You knock on the door and May (Peter’s aunt) opens the door. “Oh let me guess, you must be Y/n! Peter talks a lot about you." “Hi, Mrs. Parker, yes I’m y/n” you give May a big smile and she offers you to come in. “Do you want anything to drink?”

May: ok then, I’ll call Peter

“Peter y/n is here.” Peter runs out of his room and walks right towards the living room where you were. “Wow, are you ok? you look stressed.” “Yeah, I’m fine don’t worry! Wanna get started with math homework?”

Y/n: sure!

Peter brings you to his room. His room was full of Star Wars DVDs, there was a bed and a tv along with his table. Peter takes out his math homework and starts working. While working you notice a bad cut on his hand that he was trying to hide from you. Your eyes opened wide. “Peter, how did you get that cut,” you say in a tensed way. “It’s nothing I promise.” “do you have a first aid box here?” “Y/n don’t worry.”

Y/n: “tell me!”

Peter: “there is one in my bag”

You quickly run towards where his bag was and open it. You look for the first aid kit and as soon as you find it you hurry towards Peter. Without saying anything you open the first aid kit and taking Peter's hands and you start to clean the cut. “Ouch!!.”

“Sorry! Does it hurt?” You ask looking towards him with a worried face. This was new to you caring so much for someone that you cant even control your emotions in front of them, even though you had had a boyfriend this still felt new and you liked this feeling. “A little..” he replies with a little smile, ‘oof someone needs to tell this guy to stop smiling like that, that damn smile is going to be the death of me’ you thought. You smile back at him and keep cleaning the cut, finishing it with a bandage.

Even though you couldn't see, Peter has been busy trying to contemplate this weird feeling, attachment towards. Weirdly enough he liked how you cared about him, made him smile, made all his days feel fun and he even wanted to tell you something but didn’t. After a while both of you were quiet and were done with the homework. May comes running into the room saying “pizza is here!” she hands out your pizza’s. “Oh I have to leave soon.” “It's ok, stay for pizza at least” Peter requests you. You couldn’t resist it so you stayed for 15 more minutes. You and Peter both sat down and started to watch star wars. “Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get that cut?” Peter stopped chewing on the pizza and looked at you “Uh I was in a rush so I guess my hand cut into something.” He says “You should be more careful next time you know” you tell Peter with a little giggle. You and Peter finish eating and start talking about each other. “Since you moved here I didn’t get to know much about you, so why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” You look at Peter and smile "sure! Well I was born and raised in New York. Umm do I have to continue I’m really bad at this...” you and Peter share a little giggle again. “You’re really nice Y/n, seriously the way you handled my cut I really appreciate it, so thank you.” “No problem” you answered back blushing.

You get a phone call from Happy informing his waiting for you outside. “Oh Happy is here, I got to go. Thanks for having me over Peter!”

Peter: anytime!

You rush to the door saying bye to May and head out *take that bread and that head then leave!! Oky sorry bye*. You get in the car and Happy drives you home. “So how was your evening?”

“It was so romantic.” “What??” You snap out of your dreamy self and Happy is just surprised. “Oh wait no sorry I didn’t mean to say that, I meant it was good.” “You got me worried there.” You roll your eyes as you are tired of hearing people say things like that homophobic asswipes. When you reach home your brother walks out of the house and looks angry. “Hey, David'' you say when your voice fades away. You walk in and you see your parents tensed.

Y/n: Hey guys!

Kathryn: Hey honey.

Y/n: David just walked out, and he looked really angry.

Tony: don’t worry about him, how was your evening with Peter?

Y/n: it was good, we got to finish all of our homework, we ate pizza and watched star wars.

Tony: sounds like you had fun! Didn’t you...

Before you answer your dad’s question David walks back in again ignoring everyone in the dining room.

Y/n: Ok what’s wrong?

Mom: Sweetie, there's nothing to worry about. I promise you nothing happened. He's just a little moody.

Your dad cracks a joke saying “girlfriend problems” with a laugh, you also laugh since your brother was not the best boyfriend. *like who are kidding he’s so annoying how does his girlfriend even handle him? aight bye* Your mom looks at you and Tony.

Tony: What? it's true...

Kathryn: Don’t worry about any of these things right now. Tomorrow is a big day, there will be a new girl coming to school. She is your Dad’s Friend's daughter. So I want you to show her around the school along with Peter.

“Yeah I can do that” you reply fast as soon as you hear Peter’s name. “Aww honey thank you” she looks at you in a curious way. “You look really into Peter I can see, are you gay for him?” Your dad asks. “NOO” you say really fast. “I just want to make new friends, that's all” your dad looks at you and with his glasses by his nose. “I’m kind of tired so why don’t I go to bed now.” “Sure sweetie, good night!” “Good night mom, good night dad!”

Tony: good night!

You go to bed not being able to forget about your beautiful evening with Peter and you want the night to pass by fast so you can meet Peter again. You were really in love with him *only if that asshole knew jeez like can he just propose to me and get done with this shit? Babe I'm waiting? You here?*.

Note: Hey guys!! Sorry it took us so long to post this chapter. School and all has been stressful so we are sorry to keep you guys waiting. This chapter is soo cute honestly. I hope you liked it. Chapter 3 is on the way maybe we will be done by next Friday and then I will post it! But there is a lot to come in Y/n’s and Peters life. Do you think Peter is in love with you? What is he hiding from you? To find out read the story love in the air!

[lukneetoonz]

LITTLE GODDESS PART IV

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Summary: As a newer goddess you think back on how you got to where you are; in the throne room sitting next to your husband, the god of the dead.

Pairing: Hades!Aizawa x fem!reader, DadNyx!Izuku x fem!reader platonic, MomSelene!Uraraka x reader platonic.

Warnings: Drinking, cussing, possible harassment undertone meanings, mentions of sex, and Denki being one hot motherlova

Word Count: 2,894

A/N: Hey guys, so life is pretty crazy so next couple updates might not be on time due to my birthday coming up, plus a lot of other family tingz. But I hope you all like this one because I worked supa dupa hard for ya babies!! 🥺👉👈

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

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You had no idea what to wear to the party. The only reason you weren’t having a total meltdown was because you had toga with you to help pick out an outfit, which thank the gods you had her since she at least had some experience with these parties. So instead of going to your place and staying, you just grabbed basically your whole closet and fizzed to her place, getting ready there. The blonde stood behind you, making sure your ponytail was perfect and didn’t look ‘casual’, but instead gave you a sassy look. Toga giggled as she played with a loose strand of your hair, meeting your eyes through the mirror.

“You’re gonna be the attention grabber tonight, trust me when I say I’ll have to fend off some horny gods for you.” Her words made you blush as you tsked at her words, “They only look because they’ve never seen me before…” you mumbled back, not liking the idea of attention on you for reasons that could anger other goddesses. Toga rolled her eyes at your humbleness, something that isn’t common within Olympus, especially the women of Olympus. “You’re being too humble Y/N. Goddesses are beautiful, and you are no exception.” Before you could argue, Toga clamped her hand over your mouth and gave you a knowing look, which you submitted too.

“Fine- I won’t bring it up again…” with your muffled admittance of defeat, toga whooped in glee and got up changing into her own dress, it was red, which seemed to be her favorite color. Walking over to a drawer, she pulled it open with devious little eyes as her mouth cracked into a grin and pulled out makeup brushes, “Now it’s time for the final touches…” She stalked over to you, never giving you time to oppose what she was about to do. “Just sit back and relax… let momma toga do her work!” The blonde giggled before cool gel? Was it? Met your face, and there was no turning back.

*•*

“Hizashi… would a tuxedo be too… fancy?” The ravenette king barely met the golden Olympian's eyes as he looked through this walk-in closet, which very much amused the loud god. “Shouta, a suit would be just fine. This is just a party to celebrate Kirishima’s victories in the human realm . So it’s a bit fancy but not tux fancy. Cocktail attire, that's the word I’m looking for” Hizashi pointed his finger at shouta and winked, “Listen yo, I know you wanna look good, but just relax. You’re a king! What goddess wouldn’t want you?” Aizawa huffed and grabbed a three piece plaid grey suit.

“They call me the unseen one, and every time I go somewhere they turn and whisper about the tales they’ve heard about how cruel and horrible I am. Because let’s be real Hizashi, no goddess wants to be the queen of a place that never sees the light.” The cold king's words made Hizashi frown as he tidied himself up and winked in the mirror because of how good he looked. “Oh c'mon shouta! You’re too hard on yourself!! Why don’t you go to rei and tell her you’re ready for marriage? I’m sure she can find you someone” Aizawa rolled his eyes at those words, slightly blushing at the thought.

“Do you know how embarrassing it would be for me to go to Rei and ask her to set me up? And then for her to not find any goddess on top of that? The underworld wouldn’t be a far enough escape from the embarrassment I’d receive.” As the dark haired man put on his vest, he frowned while looking in the mirror, the ugly scar that adorned his face was a constant reminder of the war he fought in only to receive being shunned to the underworld. Aizawa had fought the hardest and bravest, but because he didn’t look the part, he was given the place that everyone judged the most; the place where souls roamed.

Hizashi groaned after his friend's sour attitude, moving his hair down but slicked back, whereas Aizawa went for a loose ponytail with his front bangs hanging loose but out of his eyes. “You know shouta, sometimes I think you’re the god of being negative. Cause that’s what you are, negative. Just let go for tonight and have fun! Who knows, maybe you’ll take home a nymph that isn’t that insufferable sea nymph Emi.” Just the mention of the nymph made Aizawa shudder, “Don’t mention her. She might sense it and come.”

Laughing, Hizashi pat Aizawa’s pat before quickly snapping a selfie with a less than pleased Aizawa. “Yo, you look fly for once! Can’t you just smile?” Aizawa glared, his eyes shining red in warning, “Try that again and I’ll kill you.” The black haired males tone only made the smiling one laugh harder, “You would never, you like me too much but you just won’t admit it.” Aizawa merely waved off Hizashi’s comments, not wanting to admit he had a heart beyond the supposed cold exterior of his. Together they walked to the garage and got into their respected cars, planning on meeting at the party.

*•*

As you arrived at the venue of the party, you noticed the fun atmosphere right away. Decorations were made of golds and pearls, all though it was beautiful, it was a tad too bright for your taste… you would of much preferred gold and black or pearl and black. You even had to squint slightly to adjust your eyes to how bright everything was, it was like they wanted it known that the gods were celebrating tonight. Toga latched your arms together as she knew it was easy to get lost or separated at these parties, so she told you to make sure you were always touching no matter what.

“Hey toga, what is this party for exactly?” Toga shrugged and laughed, skipping forward while she grabbed a glass of wine, “Who knows, and who cares? It’s free food and drinks… in all honestly they could be celebrating the fact that two of them had sex. These suckers celebrate anything and everything.” Her words made you chuckle as you nodded along, not exactly understanding but figured you’d learn along the way. “So really, we just have to show up and we’re good?” Toga made a dinging noise and winked at you, “Exactly new blood! See you’re catching on fast.”

As you guys walked through, you saw a familiar pair of golden wings, paired with blonde hair. Forgetting togas warning you ran off and hugged the Male from behind, not caring that he was blatantly hitting on multiple people at a time. “DENKI!” You couldn't even finish your words when the Male turned around and hugged you back, both of you suddenly in the air as his wings spread wide in glee. “Y/N! Gods it’s been too long Babygirl!” A kiss was pressed to your smiley cheek and you took in his attire, seeing he had a red floral silk button up with black dress slacks and a choker around his neck. He really was the god of sex and love, and he made it known.

A blush spread along your face like wildfire as you giggled at his nickname for you, “The letters really aren’t enough… especially after hearing about-” his eyes grew sad and he shook his head, “Please don’t say her name… my mother took care of it and that’s all there is too it..” you frowned and brushed his hair back, hugging him tightly. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to visit you Denki… you’ve been an amazing friend to me and- it hurts to see you like this.” The blonde god bit his lip and sighed, ruffling your hair slightly before smirking as he took in your appearance. “Enough about me, the last time I saw you, you never had an impure thought in your life… but now, I can smell your sexual desire dripping from you.”

Choking on air you looked away, body heating up at his words as your mind flashed with thoughts of a certain dark haired king, quickly you shook your head and punched denki’s shoulder. “Stop doing that! I thought you couldn’t use your powers on innocent goddesses like me…” Denki flicked your forehead and chuckled, “I can’t use my powers on the big man after Rei got pissed at me and ma, but you, you’re my best friend, you’re free game babygirl” Pouting, you crossed your arms suddenly aware that you lost your other blonde friend. Eyes wide, you looked around and pursed your lips, “Shit… I lost toga.”

Denki laughed at you, lazily wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he led you through the party, “As in controls the underworld river toga? Blonde, kinda crazy, but nonetheless fun toga?” You nodded at his questions, smiling. “Yep, I work in the underworld and met her… I swear it’s us against all the horny gods that work there… or so that’s what she says” Rolling his amber eyes, he grabbed you both drinks, handing a glass of wine to you. “Oh so all those moody underworld goers already want to court you? And let me guess you didn’t even notice until toga said something.” Deciding you would rather take a drink than answer his question, but the golden winged man took it as an answer as he smirked.

“Don’t you smirk! You’re too smug for your own good.” Suddenly there was a shift in the mood as people started whispering, and eyes were focused on the person who just entered. Curious, you decided to look too, only to blush as a pair of dark eyes met yours. The king of the underworld himself had decided to make an appearance, the staring did not go unnoticed by your friend as a lightbulb went off in his head. You were so enhanced by the dark eyes you didn’t notice the presence beside you leaving, and you certainly didn’t notice him pushing someone into you so your wine would spill all over your navy coloured dress.

“Fuck-” A gasp left your lips as you looked down at your ruined dress, the person in front of you looking apologetic, but slightly pissed that they were shoved. “My deepest apologies, I was pushed into you.” Different colored eyes met yours as you waved them off and offered them a smile, “It’s okay, truly these things happen.” You took In the man's appearance, noting right away that he was a god, he looked familiar But you couldn’t place his name. “At least let me get you another dress? My sister and mother have plenty, or we can exchange information and I’ll buy you another at some time… is that okay lotus flower?”

The nickname caught you off guard, making you gulp and blush slightly, raising your hand for him to shake. “I’m Y/N… daughter of Izuku and Uraraka.” The multicolored haired man smiled and took your hand, kissing the back of it gently as he hid the shock well, surprised that you haven’t dismissed him or walked away by now because of the scar on his face, deeming him the ‘ugliest god’. “Shoto… you have a beautiful name Y/N.” Neither of you could feel the glare that was casted upon your conversation, but Denki did, and so did toga. Denki stalked across the room like a lion hunting his prey before he was next to Aizawa, standing next to him nonchalant.

“You do realize that she basically reeks like fresh meat to starving bears, don’t you?” The snide remark from the young god made Aizawa glare harder, his demeanor growing increasingly more threatening. “Just because your mother has done me a few favours, doesn’t mean you can talk to me like that.” Denki held his hands up, and toga seemed to swoop in on the other side of Aizawa, her giggles filling the air. “Dear king, don’t you see our little new blood won’t be so free for long, because it doesn’t work like that here in olympus. We move fast. Love fast. Live fast. You better do the same if you want her.”

Jaw clenching, Aizawa tensed at her words as he saw your smile directed at his nephew. Not him. “Toga is merely speaking the truth, and oh unseen one, don’t think I can’t smell your desire for her. Because i can and it’s so desperate and needy, it makes me want to just lock you two in a room.” Toga peaked at Denki as he looked at his red painted nails, like he didn’t just expose a king's secret. “You two do realize who you’re talking to, right?” Aizawa grumbled, hearing a few nearby wine glasses shatter from his emotions. Why did he even come to this party? That’s right- he wanted to see you. A stupid man, that’s what he was.

A second was all it took for you to disappear from his vision, along with shoto. Panic setting in as he realized he lost the only person he could possibly care for to his fucking nephew. At least he’d keep you in his life. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t see tweedle dee and tweedle dumb leave and follow you, their plan rolling in motion as soon their words started getting to the Raven haired man. It only made it better that you went to the bathroom so it was easy to get you out of the party without any eyes on you…

*•*

Groaning, you woke up holding your head, trying to help the pain that was shooting through it. It wasn’t until you sat up did you realize you were not in your bed, nor were you in togas. In fact you were in a place that was completely unknown to you. Eyes wide you quickly checked your attire and sighed in relief as you noticed your clothes were still on, but your shoes weren’t and your hair was put up in a nice lazy bun, makeup wiped off. Letting your feet touch the cold ground, a shiver ran up your back, taking in the dark hues that decorated the room, feeling comfort in it. Navy’s, blacks, greys, and some darker whites, it all brought a sense of calm to you that made you smile.

Walking out of the bedroom, you’re met with the sweet smell of crepes and coffee, honestly something you could get used to in the morning. You let your nose guide your way and mindlessly you walked into a kitchen that had an open concept with a dark marble island and dark kitchen cabinets. But what caught your attention the most was the man that stood with his back to you, hair half up and a black silk robe loosely on his shoulders that matched his black sweatpants and slippers. Realization settled in and you stumbled, covering your face, trying to hide the blush that colored your face; you were in the king of the underworld's home.

“Oh- I see you’re up… do you need medicine, or some water? I did brew up some coffee, because I know that helps hangovers sometimes…” A deep raspy voice made you peek through your fingers, seeing soft dark eyes looking at you with concern. “I-I don’t even remember last night.. I must have been such a bother- I’m so sorry” Aizawa flustered slightly as he remembered one particular moment, a moment that made his heart beat at rapid speeds. His lips tingled just thinking about it, and you didn’t even remember. It made him feel like a silly little boy.

Putting on a smile he just chuckled at the state you were in, “You weren’t… I’d let you bother me every day of my life if it meant you were near me little goddess.” Aizawa hummed so smoothly that it made your heart turn into a butterfly. Blushing you moved to peak over his shoulder, chest pressed to his back, “That looks very good ai- I mean shouta…” Just the innocent little move made him want to cup your face and call you his; if you asked shouta when was the moment he knew he wanted you forever, he would tell you it was the morning he made you crêpes for the first time, and he meant it, because in that moment it was such a domestic gesture that confirmed to him that he only wanted you to be able to do that.

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Taglist; @present-mel @maya-ngpirit @leeeah-loooser @nhievyenne @negansnumberonewifie @darkqueenhyde @minfani @creolepier @lhcartoonist @fairy-inthegarden @taylor----wonderland @the-british-koala @vinaios @a-match-into-themoon

[kunt-dracula]

Everybody Loves A Clown

Supernatural Rewrite.

OC, Sam, Dean

TW: Cursing...that's about it.🤣

I pull my leather jacket on as I bound down the staircase, denѕe boots thumping against the old wood. I call out to Sam—repeating his name when I receive no response. He must be out in the yard with his brother.

I make my way into the kitchen upon hearing clinking plates.

"Sam outside?"

Bobby doesn't look up from his aggressive scrubbing of a cast iron pan. "Nope. He and Dean left."

I raise my brows. Hm. Guess they caught wind of another case. Hey, if it means I don't have to drag them along with me on mine, I'm not complaining at all.

Without asking any further questions, I hoist my backpack further on my shoulder "Well, guess I'll see Ellen and Jo by myself."

"And while you're there tell those boys that the next time they eat here they gotta wash the dishes. At least then they wouldn't be completely freeloading."

I twist my body back to Bobby. "I thought you said they left?"

Bobby shuts off the faucet. "They did leave. They went to the Roadhouse."

"What!? Dammit, I told them to wait!"

Instantly becoming angry I spin on my heels and rush to the door, swinging it open. I hear Bobby yell something behind me, but I can't hear him over my feet stomping against the gravel in addition to my heavy breathing.

I yank the other strap of my backpack on the other arm, securing it. Since the case was in-state, I decided on riding my bike.

I throw my leg over the pillion of my 2005 Triumph Rocket III and drop my weight onto it. Keeping it up is pricey; hell the bike itself is expensive, but I managed to do both for free.

-

How I got this piece was I took it from the leader of this werewolf biker gang. After I killed him and a few of his goons, I looted them for some things. They were too nice to go to waste. The dead gang members didn't have much honestly. There were three of them—with the exception of the leader— and I only got a little less than three hundred bucks. But the leader...oh man, a holy grail.

I couldn't boost the fairly nice house from him. But not only did I get this motorcycle off him, but I also got this badass 2005 Dodge Ram 1500—as well as some nice jewelry. I could tell it wasn't his, so I instantly concluded that he had done some stealing himself. Not being aware of who the owner was I pawned the jewelry off under a false alias and got a few stacks for it.

Shoving my right foot against the kick-start lever—undoubtedly using more than likely with more force than necessary—the bike roars to life. Fairly new motor purring loudly, vibrating vigorously between my thighs.

I snatch my helmet off the front of the bike—almost forgetting to put it on—pushing my head into it. I kick up the kickstand with the heel of my boot, and peel through the yard, leaving a trailing cloud of dust behind me.

*12 MINUTES LATER*

Upon turning into the parking lot, I spot the beat-up, poorly maintained minivan I gave Sam the keys to earlier this morning. It was the only functioning car Bobby had. It was bad off, but I had fixed it up to where it'd get you where you needed to be.

Haphazardly parking my bike, I shut off the engine and remove my helmet—hanging it from the right handle. 

The wood groans under my weight as I ascend the few steps to the paint chipped door. I push it open, only a fraction surprised at what I see.

Jo was holding a rifle on Dean, who was holding his nose, and Ellen had a handgun pointed at Sam.

"See this is why I told you to wait." I couldn't help but sound 'matter-of-fact.' Hell I told them, but they didn't listen, and I knew how Ellen and Jo were with strangers showing up unannounced.

Four pairs of eyes instantly snap to me. "Hi Ellen," I nod "Jo."

"Hey sweetie, don't mind us, just some guys wandered in, looking to score probably." Ellen narrows her eyes at Sam who was looking back and forth between the 9mm pointed at his face and me, a pleading look in his eyes.

I shrug my bag off, setting it on the table. "They didn't come to steal. I know them. They're Sam and Dean, or dumb and dumber—which is quickly becoming a good replacement."

"Sam and Dean? Winchester?" Her face softens. I nod, confirming.

"Son of a bitch." She mutters.

"Mom, you know these guys?" Jo asks.

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys." She lets out a laugh, lowering the gun. Jo slowly does the same. "Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo." She gives Dean a smile.

"You're not gonna hit me again, are you?" Dean questions, nasally. She fills a hand towel with ice and offers it to Dean, without saying a word.

"Bobby called said you had a case for me. You needed help with something?"

"Yeah," she leans an elbow against the bar. "Demon. Heard he was closing in on it."

"He? He who?"

"John Winchester. I actually called you when he didn't return my calls."

"Ah. I see." Aware of where she kept files, I rounded the bar and slid the file cabinet drawer open. Flicking through the row of folders until I found what I needed. I open the Manila folder and frown. A lot of the writing from these newspaper articles are small. And I don't have my reading glasses. My vision is really good when pin pointing objects or when something's out of place but if it's words? Sometimes I catch hell. Glancing over at the drying rack an idea pops into my mind, and I lift a small shot glass from the rack.

"What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed? I mean, who are you? How do you know about all this?" Dean demanded.

I slam the drawer closed with my hip. "The same way you do, genius. She's not new to the world of hunters." I circle my way back from behind the bar. I'm rewarded a dirty look from the man.

"I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad, a long time ago. John was like family once." Her lips curl up into a small smile as she reminisces.

"Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you before?" Dean questioned, skeptical. Ellen's response was a mere shrug. "So why exactly do we need your help?"

"What's with mister moody over there?" I glance up from the open folder in my hand to see Jo slinking to stand next to me. She mirrors my position of leaning back against the hard wood of the bar.

"Their dad got off'd by a demon a few days ago," I whisper back, my eyes falling back on the newspaper article. "I'm not sure they know it was a demon though. Dude reeked of sulfur, but I'm pretty sure I was the only one that could smell it." I run the glass, rim-down across the page, the words becoming magnified.

"Have you told them about your 'abilities'?"

"Hell no! I barely know them. The only reason I'm around them is that Bobby wants me to. The old geezer's suddenly scared something's gonna happen to me."

"Well, you are like his daughter Essie." God, I hated when she called me that. "From what you've told me, he doesn't have anyone except you." I huff. I'm getting lectures left and right.

"Ash!" Me and Jo can't help but jump at Ellen's abrupt shout. Ash, who was asleep on the pool table jerks up with a start. Honestly, I'm not surprised I didn't notice him before. I've been coming here for years, and I'm so accustomed to seeing him drunkenly sprawled out, I just consider him furniture. "What? It closing time?" He grumbles, looking around in a daze.

"That's Ash?" Sam questions in disbelief.

"Yep." I walk past him, plucking the thick folder from its spot on the table in front of him before he has time to react.

"He's a genius." Jo smiles, pushing off the bar and walking behind it. I snicker.

"No," I grab the glass of water from the bar and saunter over to where he was. "These guys and I need your help with some info." I slide the water to him, and he looks up at me, his lips spread in a lazy smile. Here it comes.

"Well for you I'll help any way I can, Darlin'." As always, his eyes almost instantaneously fall to my breast. He goes to lean an elbow on the table but, misses and begins to fall until I grab his forearm--steadying him. "See I'm fallin' for you." I can't help but break into a smile at his cheesy flirting.

"Stop flirtin' with Essence and read the damn notes." Ellen scolds, but it's obvious she's amused as well.

"You've gotta be kidding me, this guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie." Dean states.

Ash smiled. "I like you."

"Don't doubt him." I did the same when I first met him, and he shocked the hell outta me. "Just give him a chance." I add.

"Alright. This is about a year's worth of our dad's work, so uh, let's see what you make of it." Dean watches as Ash opens the folder and skims through it.

"Come on, this crap ain't real. There ain't nobody that can track a demon like this." Ash scoffs.

"Apparently so, their dad seemed to be able to do it." I shrug.

"There are non-parametric, statistical overviews, prospects, and correlations, I mean, damn!" He wheezes.

"These are omens." A piece of paper catches my eye, I drag my fingers across the lines.

"Basically if you can track these, you won't have much of a problem tracking the demon behind it." I glance up at the boys to see a mixture of both impressed and confused expressions. 

"Yeah." Ash nods in agreement. "You know like, crop failures, electrical storms...You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun." he trails off, picking up another sheet.

"Can you track it or not?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, with this, I think so. But it's gonna take time, uh, give me," he ponders briefly. "Fifty-one hours." He stands to leave.

"Hey, man?" Dean stops him.

"Yeah." He turns to face us again.

"I, uh, dig the haircut."

"All business up front, party in the back." I chuckle as he flips his hair and shrugs before leaving the room.

"Hey, Ellen, what's that?" Ellen looks back at the space behind her before looking back at Sam.

"Well, that's Essie's police scanner she left here a year ago and never took it back." I scrunch my face.

"Hey now, first of all, I left it because I got a new one. Secondly, I left it so you could be more aware of what's going on and keep tabs on things."

With Ellen's folder still in my hand, I move over to the bar and slide on the stool next to Sam. "Hey, look at this, " I open the folder and place the first few pages of the article between us. I could see that in big red marker it had written on it:

COUPLE MURDERED

CHILD LEFT ALIVE

MEDFORD, WISC.

"Read over this again. I already did but, I don't have my reading glasses, so my vision is fucked up when It comes to words. You might see something I missed." He nods and grabs the sheets.

I fixate myself with something I have no problem seeing clearly. Photos of the victims, their information, etc.

The bar was all-around quiet. Except for Dean and Jo who were having an indistinct conversation on the farther side of the room, next to the windows.

"So uh," Sam starts. "How have you been. Its been what... five or six years since we last saw each other?" He asks with humor.

"Seven actually," I respond dryly, not lifting my eyes from the photos. "We were freshmen." I flip one and move to the next. "As for me, I've been fine. Grown accustomed to being alone." I murmur adding a shrug, more than likely to keep from visibly cringing at the statement I had unintentionally let slip from my lips. I could hope he hadn't heard me, but I already know he has by the way he's looking at me. Although I've still failed to make eye contact with the guy I can still feel his eyes staring at the side of my face.

"Dean," I call him over, not quite because I wanted too but, I needed to change the subject before it progressed any further. "Come take a look at this." At this statement, Sam leans closer to me, and Dean stands next to me, leaning his body against the bar. I frown at the uncomfortable closeness. "Too fucking close." I shake my head. They both mumble a 'sorry' and put some distance between them and me.

I roll my eyes. "A few murders not far from here Ellen caught wind of. And with my expertise, this damn sure looks like a hunt."

"Since when are you an 'expert' in hunting?" I turn my head towards the eldest and shoot him a harsh glare, before shifting my expression into one of smugness. "Since I saved your tight ass—not once but twice since we met less than a month ago." I slide off the stool and brush past him to the table I left my bag on, but not before gauging the look on his face. I can tell Dean's taken aback by my response at the way his brows furrow deeply. He clears his throat, crossing his arms. "So what's your point?"

"My point, Sweetcheeks, is that we're taking the case." I stuff the folder in my bag and pull out my Mossberg 500 12 Gauge Shotgun. Although I had intended on riding my bike to—what I thought was a nearby town in South Dakota but is actually a town in Wisconsin, I should go and swap out for my truck. Another good reason is the center of what's going on isn't really familiar to me at first mention, so who knows what and how many of it am I going to need to take it out.

"No, absolutely not." He protests. "You're not tagging along with us. Give me the folder." With my instincts, I hear his heavy feet approach me, and I turn, gun in hand. I grip the pump and flick my wrist harshly, gun clicking as it cocks. He immediately stops in his tracks.

"You really wanna try taking it from me?" I tilt my head. He's highly annoyed but shakes his head regardless. "Smart boy." I smile and the bag over my shoulder, shotgun still in my right clutch.

"Now come on," I pat his stubbled face with my hand and walk past him yet again. "Got a lot of work to do."

[mamablahblahblog]

The Real Reason Men Tell Women and Girls To Smile

I had a soft face when I moved to New York. Though I was world-traveled and confident in my ability to survive the grit, spit and human feces of the mean streets, my Pacific Northwest dewy complexion and friendly gait betrayed my naiveté. I also didn't own enough black, so like any new transplant, I looked like a tourist most of my first year there.

I of course evolved. I bought dark jeans, black tanks and started walking a lot faster. A lot. Like any NYC woman, the jagged skyline was reflected in my new steely gaze. Not even Halloween costumes in the East Village were distracting or interesting enough to pull my focus. I was a strong, confident, determined, focused, independent woman and you could kiss my grits. For 15 years I was a legendary New Yorker, and there wasn't a pair of heels I couldn't run in.

But like all my laser-eyed sisters, I would be told by strange men on the street to "smile." I would usually fix them with a hard glare, disgust crinkling my nose and keep walking without pause. Over time I learned the best reaction was none: don't feed the trolls.

Some women have what is colloquially referred to as "Resting Bitch Face" (RBF). This means their neutral expression translates as moody. These women live everywhere, but most New York women learn that a neutral face is a safe face. Here's why:

A smile is an invitation. When a man asks a woman to "smile," what he's really asking for is an invitation. It wasn't being offered freely, so he wants to put his name on the guest list and, upon getting a smile, he believes he's in the VIP section.

Try it. The next time you smile at a colleague or acquaintance in passing, you'll find that what you're communicating is a willingness to engage.

Living in New York is exhausting, particularly when you're a woman. In a five-block walk we must bob and weave humanity with every step, block out traffic noise, smells, fliers and scam artists and probably at least three advances of a vulgar nature (e.g. "do you have someone to suck on those toes?"). I took to wearing headphones, not even listening to anything, just to send a social signal that "whatever you have to say cannot be heard." This was remarkably effective.

Both of my young daughters have what I prefer to call "Resting Serious Face," or--sometimes--"fire eyes." Their withering, hard stares have been intimidating strangers and family alike since they were each 8 months old. They are both thoughtful, deep-thinkers, observers of the world, taking mental notes to be used in their memoirs later in life. They are also full of joy, mischief and sass. They are being raised to speak their minds (when they feel like it), to be kind and thoughtful and to take care of each other.

But I feel sorry for any person who ever tells them to "smile."