#his eyes are blank but he looks just like the little boy from B’s report

[superbat-lmao]

Robin was standing on a roof a couple buildings over, following orders. Batman told him to wait while he dealt with the GCPD and that he would meet him at the car. So Robin was waiting.

He flicked his gaze around the accompanying roofs and tried to count his breaths. Anything but looking at the pavement below.

There was a flicker two buildings over and he turned his gaze absently, watching for shifting shades of black and grey that denoted movement. He waited.

There.

He moved quietly towards whatever was on the other roof and approached low and out of sight.

There was a series of clicks in the distance and short inhales of breath. He still didn’t have a clear sight line and shifted forward from behind some brickwork to get a better view.

It was a kid in a grey hoodie with some piece of metal in his hands. A camera.

The kid was moving down the fire escape and clicking the shutter when the opportunity presented itself. They were pretty high up, at least 7 stories. Robin snorted at the resilience of the kid, even in the alley he’d known better than to go more than 5 stories on a rickety fire escape if he could avoid it. But then, no kid in the alley would have been able to afford the equipment in the kid’s hands.

There was a sharp inhale next to him and a short shout. Robin sprung forward, realizing the kid must’ve heard him and looked down to see his eyes widen as the fire escape lurched. The kid over balanced, Robin was hurtling towards him, firing his grapple but it wouldn’t be enough. The kid started with a good 20 feet between them and Robin couldn’t overcome physics.

There was a wet crunch below him and then silence.

Someone was screaming.

Batman found Robin covered in blood with his arms wrapped around what looked to be a kid, eyes blank and busted camera lying near his feet.

He wasn’t screaming anymore, and Batman couldn’t keep up with all the words he was saying, but the tragedy was clear. He knew he would have to step forward and pry his son away from the fallen boy, there would be parents to inform but for a minute he just stood there.

First Garzonas and now this.

Two falls was enough for the night.

[thewulf]

Always & Forever || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - Hii. Love your work. It's so good. I'm feeling a good hurt comfort fic with the obx cast. Could I get a JJ Maybank x reader (maybe john b's younger sister?) where she's lost everything after they assume John B and Sarah are lost at sea... Read Rest Here

A/N - Ohhh this was kinda hard to write. Being sad is a bitch. Please let somebody know if you're sad/getting sad. People love you! Always remember that <3

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Y/N

Word Count: 2.3+

TW: Talks of depression, being sad, not eating etc.

You barely heard the soft knocks on your bedroom door. Currently, you were huddled underneath the comforter of your missing older brother just hoping and praying he was okay. They’d officially called it. Lost at sea. Presumed deceased. Dead. Just like your fucking father. How was this your life? Two years ago, you had the world with the two coolest guys on the earth. And now? Now you were alone. Utterly fucking alone. It’d only been three damn days, but they gave up. There was no funding for a poor pogue boy from the wrong part of the island. Sherriff Peterman just gave you a sad look when she broke the news to you a few days prior. Or it could’ve been yesterday. Time didn’t matter anymore. Nothing really mattered anymore. You were a sixteen-year-old girl alone as fuck in this cold ass world.

“Hey little Rout.” You heard JJ’s kinder than usual voice from the other side of the door, “You need to open this door or I’m going to have to pick the lock. Need to see if you’re okay. You haven’t been at school and Mrs. Smith is getting worries, she said she’s going to report you.” You heard the soft sigh of utter defeat as he waited for a moment for you to respond. To do anything. You didn’t have the energy to respond so instead you just laid there.

“Come on kid.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname he’d long since used on you, “You need to come out. Get some fresh air. You can’t stay in there forever.”

Nothing. You just couldn’t. Depression was a hell of a thing. You just couldn’t fathom getting up and unlocking that door. Your brain knew you should. But the actual thought of moving seemed like a foreign concept you weren’t ready for sure yet.

He didn’t give you much else of a choice as you heard the lock click. You knew it wouldn’t take him much effort to get it but alas, you just couldn’t care. It didn’t seem to matter. Nothing else mattered. John B was all you had left and now you sat here empty and void.

“Oh Y/N…” His voice trailed off as he spotted you withering away underneath a mass of blankets. A blank stare on your face. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes feeling grossly ashamed you let it get this kind of bad.

“I just…” Your voice croaked out as it hadn’t been used in while, how long you hadn’t used it you really didn’t have a clue.

He shook his head kneeling down beside your bed, “It’s alright mins.” His head was close as he smiled at you with a smile that never reached his eyes. A smile he was putting on for you. He took his hand brushing your knotted hair away from your sunken face.

Mins. You wanted to laugh. It was the first good emotion you had felt in a while. Mins was your current nickname of quite the long line of ever evolving nicknames from the blonde-haired boy. First it was mini-Routledge, then it was mini-JB, then mini and now mins. He didn’t use it all too often anymore, only when he thought you needed it. And you needed it more than ever now. All his love and everything he could give to you.

JJ knew just how much John B meant to you. He was your best friend. The two of you did everything together, practically inseparable. Even when JB met JJ they still included you in on everything. You were his shadow. That didn’t change as you got older. You just had to play it off as something different.

“I’m tired JJ.” You sighed letting your eyes close in front of him. The effort to keep them open was beginning to become too much.

He frowned deeply. This wasn’t like you. You were usually so full of life. The one who wanted to go and do things. The one who called him lame when he didn’t want to try something new with you. You were the one that kept the group going. And now it felt like everything was falling apart. The pogues were without their people and they needed you back.

This was your way of shutting down and he knew it.

“When was the last time you ate honey?” He asked while trying to brush the knots out of the hair he could get to. You were never particular about your hair, but JJ knew how badly knots hurt to get out. He remembered that one time when the both of you were younger, you crying when your dad tried to brush out some gnarly knots after JJ and JB tried to teach you how to surf one afternoon. It broke his heart even as a twelve-year-old boy. He had that same protective love that JB had over you.

You sighed trying to remember, “Before we found out he was missing I guess.”

JJ’s eyes bugged. He knew he should’ve checked in on you sooner. Damn the pogues who told him to leave you alone. That you needed space. You clearly didn’t need space. You needed help.

“That was three days ago Y/N.” His blood felt like it was running cold. How could he let you lay here for three entire days? JB would fucking murder him if he found out. Some friend he was.

You hummed in acknowledgement, “I’ve had some water though. Haven’t been hungry.” You admitted to your concerned friend. Your voice finally started sounding more like your own after the hoarseness had worked its way out.

“Well, that’s a start mins.” He sighed brushing his overgrown golden hair away from his eyes, “Can you get up for me? Get you some soup downstairs or something?”

“JJ.” You whined not feeling up to the task, “I’m too tired. I don’t feel like it.”

He took you hand in his and wanted to cry from how cold it was. You weren’t right. No, you were suffering, and they just let you. He felt nothing more than a piece of shit seeing you so broken, “I’ll carry you. I just need you to eat something honey. John B would be sick with worry if he knew you were starving away.”

“Don’t talk about him.” You turned away from JJ feeling your own blood run cold at the mention of your missing older brothers name. You couldn’t fucking believe he chose to leave you. Fuck, you couldn’t believe he’d ever put Sarah in that position either. It all felt like a fever dream you had to wake up from. But you weren’t waking up which meant this was a sick and twisted reality that you didn’t want to participate in anymore.

“Y/N…”

You shook your head on your pillow, “Please JJ. Don’t talk about him. I can’t take it. Not yet.” You felt the tears that had long since dried up come flowing back in an instant. Why in the hell did he bring out these feelings in you so effortlessly? Leave it to your older brothers cute as hell best friend that was certainly off limits. JJ would never, ever feel that way for you anyway.

“Alright honey.” Honey. That was a new one. You’d heard him use it sparingly on girls in the past, but it certainly was never used for you. But he’d used it a few times in the last few sentences sending your overly tired mind reeling in another direction. He was just being kind, that was all. After all, your older brother did just fucking vanish into thin air, “Can you please get up for me? Please mins? I need you to eat something. Whatever you what. Please?” He added one last please to let you know how dire he felt.

You rolled back over to him exerting far too much effort in doing so, “I don’t think I can.” You sounded defeated as the tears started once more, “I’m so tired J.” You whispered trying to contain the sob that wanted to escape from your throat.

“Cause you need to eat honey.” He spoke with nothing but concern on his face, “Let me take you downstairs? You need to move. Need to be somewhere new. Need to get some calories in your body.” He said so matter of factly you weren’t sure if it was JJ in front of you. But then again, for as much as a mess the boy normally was he thrived in crises situations such as these. He always seemed to know exactly what to do.

“Yeah, that’s fine JJ.” You knew he’d win eventually so it might be best to just give it up.

He let out a subtle breath of sure-fire relief as he scooped you up into his arms. You were light. Far too fucking light. God, he was such an idiot. He knew you better than any of the other pogues. Of course, you needed help.

He set you down at the messy table filled with whatever shit JB had likely left there the week prior. You grew tired of always cleaning so you just started leaving it. Your eyes scanned the table full of junk. A sad smile formed seeing his homework scattered about with an unpaid parking ticket next to it all. He’d never get to finish that homework. Never would have to lie his way out of that ticket. Why him? Why your JB?

“What do you want to eat honey?” He asking running a hand up and down your arm. Attempting any form of comfort for you. He saw the sad look in your eyes as they scanned the table. He had to get your mind off of JB in any way he could.

“Why are you calling me that?” You asked instead of answering him. It was driving you nuts, and you had to know. In your right mind you’d never

“Honey?” He asked, a bit taken aback by your sudden brazenness. The you he knew would never have asked him that. Instead, you would’ve asked JB. Something you couldn’t do anymore.

You nodded in confirmation feeling your eyes droop and your mouth open to yawn. JJ cursed internally making the decision of canned soup for you knowing you needed to eat as soon as possible. Light and easy and calories. That’s exactly what you needed.

“I don’t know mins.” He admitted while heating up your food, “It just felt, feels right. I can stop saying it if you’d like.”

“I didn’t say that.” You spoke back in almost a whisper.

“Honey it is.” He grinned while putting your warm, not overly hot, soup in a bowl. He set it down in front of you waiting for you to eat.

“I still like mins too.” You added admitting to him just how much you did like the nickname. He’d stopped using it as much now that the two of you had gotten older. You’d forgotten just how much you’d liked the nickname. Probably because it was a nickname only you could have. A special one from the boy you surely loved but vehemently denied.

“Noted, now eat mins.” He grinned pointing to the bowl.

You nodded not really sure if your hands would agree with your brain. You were so utterly fucking exhausted. Turns out you did need to eat if you wanted to be able to function. Because it felt like a task you’d never be able to start. As much as you tried your arm just wouldn’t cooperate.

“Mins?” He asked seeing you not really making a move for it.

“I can’t JJ. It’s too much.” You hated to admit how disgustingly useless you felt. Yet here you were.

He nodded in understanding, “Here, let me.” He took the spoon from the bowl and held it front of your face. For the first time in three days, you relished in the taste of food. It did taste really good. And damn, you were a lot hungrier than you realized. Before you knew it the bowl was gone, and you were entirely full.

“Thank you J.” You let your eyes close once more feeling the outright exhaustion of the situation come down over you.

“Anytime mins.” Seeing your eyes close he noted your fatigue, “Why don’t we sit on the couch and watch a movie?” He suggested hoping you’d agree.

“That sounds nice J, I may need your help again.” You let out a frustrated sigh at the state of your condition. You did start feeling a bit better but the thought of walking or even crawling made you shudder.

He shot up from his seat to get you up. He picked you up like it was nothing, “I got you hon. I always do and always will. Remember that alright?” You nodded in his chest doing your best to fight off the sleep that wanted to take you.

“Thank you J.” You whispered into his chest. He set you down right next to him, letting your head fall into his side.

He wrapped an arm around your torso letting you know you were safe and secure. He wasn’t planning on going anywhere without you anymore. Running his hand through your hair he felt a shiver knowing you liked exactly what he was doing, “Always mins. Now, let yourself sleep. We’ll deal with all this shit when you wake up. Together.”

You nodded letting the darkness take over, “Promise?”

“Always and forever.” He gave your head a soft and gentle kiss before the soft snoozes overcame you. He decided he was going to watch you sleep, for however long that was. You were his everything too. He was only just beginning to realize that now. Always and forever. It had a nice ring to it. Forever with you was a life he would dream about. Maybe one day. Maybe after he sorted you through this mess. Maybe just maybe.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

[cozycompositions]

@febuwhump Day 12: “Can You Hear Me?

Ok Lovelies, I ended up spending way too much time on this bad boy, but gosh is this a good one!

Hamilton returned from his mission with a blank face and a stiff posture. Washington had sent him to survey the aftermath of a small battle out of state. It was meant to be simple, nothing too bloody for the young man to see. But when Hamilton returned with terror in his eyes on an otherwise stoic face, Washington knew something had gone very wrong.

Hamilton walked into Washington’s office, silently padding over to the general and handing him a piece of parchment, his report on the battle no doubt.

“Welcome back, Colonel Hamilton,” Washington greeted, before eyeing the boy up and down. Something was wrong.

“Are you quite alright, Hamilton?”

The boy did not react, simply stood stock still and stared at the wall behind the general. Washington furrowed his brow, and unfolded the paper. His face tensed more and more as he read. It wasn’t possible.

All twenty of the men he had sent to aide in the battle, dead. They had been vastly outnumbered, according to Hamilton’s report. Washington couldn’t help but notice the shakiness in Alexander’s usually near-perfect writing.

Alexander. He had seen all this devastation, Washington realized. He had seen a blood bath, and George himself had promised it would be nothing of the sort. Oh God, he’d sent the boy alone. Alexander was barely older than 18, and he had witnessed this massacre, had to write it up without so much as a comrade there with him.

Washington left the paper forgotten on the desk, and made his way over to his aide.

“Alexander,” Washington softened. “Can you hear me?”

Hamilton nodded, just a little. Washington sighed, took the boys arm and led him to the rocking chair in the corner of the room. Hamilton sat without a fuss, while Washington knelt in front of him with his hands on the boy’s knees.

“I need you to talk to me, son. What did you see?” Washington prodded. Alexander closed his eyes tight, squeezing them so hard it looked painful.

“Son,” Washington cooed. He had never seen the boy like this. What had gone wrong?

Hamilton took a gasping breath as hot tears made their way down his face. His hands flew up to wipe at the tears, but he felt himself stopped by Washington’s touched. George held Alexander’s hands in his own and gently spoke.

“Alexander, my boy, I can’t help if you don’t tell me what you saw.”

Hamilton took multiple deep, shuttering breaths. “They were all dead, sir,” he grounded out. Washington didn’t speak, for fear that if he did, Hamilton would stop.

“There was…” He cleared his throat, “there was so much… blood. And their limbs were- were everywhere.”

Hamilton started to anxiously bounce his leg, the fear and anxiety was radiating off of his person. Washington moved to gently brush one hand through Alexander’s hair, the other squeezing Hamilton’s own hands firmly.

“There must have been… canon fire, sir. Surely… surely nothing else would cause such horrors. When I got there, it was already over. They were all dead. Not only our… our men, but redcoats as well. They’ve… they destroyed each other, sir. It was everywhere…”

Washington let out a shuttering breath. He could believe it… how could he have been to stupid. Sure, he trusted this boy with his life, but he often forgot just how young he was. Now Hamilton was here, traumatized, crying. And it was Washington’s fault.

“Oh, my boy, I’m so sorry. I should never have sent you alone.” What else could he say?

Hamilton shuttered, against a memory perhaps, and curled in on himself in his seat. His silent cries became loud sobs, each wail breaking a little bit more of Washington’s heart. It was like the floodgates had opened.

“They- they were all dead. Oh god!” Alexander cried. Washington rose on his knees and wrapped the boy up in his arms. He couldn’t change what had happened, but he could try his best to protect the boy from further anguish. Washington rocked Hamilton back and forth

slowly, whispering comforts to him, trying so hard to soothe the child in his arms.

“I know it’s hard, but I need you to breathe, son. Just breathe, follow me. That’s it. You’re okay. You’re here now, I’ve got you,” on and on. The boy said nothing, but Washington could feel him try to calm his breathing.

The next day was even harder. Hamilton was distant, unfocused. Multiple times Washington would glance over to find the aide staring at his work, without a quill even in his hand. Washington suggested Hamilton go to bed, Hamilton ignored him. This continued for nearly a week before George put his foot down, commanding that Hamilton retire himself to rest for the night.

Washington stayed in his office for another three hours before deciding to retire himself. He entered his quarters, being careful not to rouse Hamilton, dressed in his night clothes, and fell into a shallow sleep.

He was awoken not an hour later to a thrashing, panicked whimpers from the other side of the room. He was immediately alert, jumping from his cot and rushing to Alexander, who was writhing in his slumber. Washington knelt down next to the boy, gently resting a hand on his arm and shaking. “Alexander, wake up. It’s okay, wake up,” he said gently. Hamilton awoke with a start, sitting up so fast Washington was worried he would give himself whiplash. “It’s alright, son. It was only a dream.”

“No…” Hamilton whispered, staring beyond Washington and beyond this world. “No… it was real.”

Washington didn’t know how to help.

[titan-fodder]

Pyroclastic (Mike Zacharias x Reader)

Summary: Some would argue that the park is dead, but you know better; it’s livelier than it has been in hundreds of thousands of years, a shuddering, breathing monster finally rising to its feet after an eternity of slumber. Soon, it will open its mouth in an earth-shattering scream, and then, everyone will see.

Not dead; just waking up.

Rating: E (explicit)

Word Count: ~19.5K

Warnings: slow burn, friends to lovers, Eruri, implied Mobuhan, spelling Miche ‘Mike’, swearing, fighting, lots of nerdy shit, explicit sexual content, breeding kink

A/N: This is my contribution to the Smut Pile’s Apocalypse collab. I urge everyone to check out all the pieces on the masterlist. A big thanks to @pleasantanathema​ and @whats-her-quirk​ for being about as excited about this as I was, to @shadowworks​ for always encouraging me when I take on projects too big for my own good, and to @mindninjax​ who volunteered her husband’s expertise on this. I’m pretty proud of this piece and had a blast writing and researching for it. This is by no means scientifically accurate, but I did my best to make it realistic (as in I watched Supervolcano again and spent a lot of time on the USGS website). Also, I have been to Yellowstone exactly one (1) time in my life and was terrified the entire time which is where my fixation with it comes from. 

Enjoy~

GLOSSARY

Caldera - large basin-shaped volcanic depression with a diameter many times larger than its included volcanic vents; commonly formed when magma is withdrawn or erupted from a shallow, underground magma reservoir.*

Pyroclastic flow - A hot (typically >800 °C), chaotic mixture of rock fragments, gas, and ash that travels rapidly (tens of meters per second) away from a volcanic vent or collapsing flow front.*

Tephra -  pieces of all fragments of rock ejected into the air by an erupting volcano.

VEI - The Volcanic Explosivity Index (VEI) is a relative measure of the explosiveness of volcanic eruptions.*

*definitions taken from USGS website

4  Y E A R S  B E F O R E 

Levi looks pissed when he’s on screen. He looks pissed all the time, but he looks especially pissed when he’s made to stand in front of pointed cameras and outstretched microphones. 

You can’t blame him; it’s not actually his job to deal with the press, but some years ago, Erwin had twisted his arm this way and that and convinced Levi to take over conferences.

“They understand you better,” he’d said. “You enunciate better than me. We can’t have people misunderstanding me and panicking, can we?” The blond had purposely spoken with an accent thicker than usual, and Levi had called him every name under the sun, but in the end, he’d relented, and now…

“Dr. Ackermann! Dr. Ackermann! Is it true that this has been the largest earthquake in Yellowstone since Hebgen Lake?” 

Levi squints, actually cringes at the question, then waves one of his small, bony hands. “Hebgen Lake was a major quake—7.2 on the Richter scale. This was only a 5.3, and yeah, it’s been a while since the park has had a quake larger than a three, but that doesn’t mean—”

“So, should we be worried about a supereruption?” Another reporter asks, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing as the light leaves your colleague’s eyes. 

Levi’s jaw slides, and he pauses, no doubt to think about how to answer because this is a delicate question, one that the general public always reads extremely far into. He’s good at keeping his expression blank, at least, probably another reason Erwin requested he take over interviews. 

“Listen,” he starts off, slate eyes locking onto the largest camera in front of him. “Yellowstone is a hub of seismic energy. It wouldn’t be the park we know and love today if it wasn’t shaking and letting off steam like it usually does, right?” This gains a few relieved chuckles from the crowd of journalists. 

“Was this earthquake bigger than the ones we’re used to? Yes. Are we monitoring each and every tremor that we pick up? Also, yes. So, don’t make yourself sick worryin’ about sh—stuff you can’t control. We’ll let you know if it’s time to worry.” He sucks his teeth for a second, waiting for his advice to wash over everyone, then adds, “Keep a bug-out bag packed, though. Not because of the volcano or anything. Just because… The world is crazy and so are people, and it’s always good to be prepared.”

They take it as a joke, laugh a little louder as Levi steps down from the podium, but you’ve worked with him long enough to know he had made the comment with serious intent. It’s a lot easier to fly out of town at a moment’s notice when you already have the necessities packed, and though he won't tell them all the facts this early on, there’s a chance that they will eventually have to evacuate, yes. 

“I fucking hate that big, blond bastard,” is the first thing Levi tells you when he’s within earshot, much less well-spoken in casual situations than when his face is being broadcasted. “Voht iff they dunt understahnd me, Lebi?” He mimics your boss badly then pantomimes an uppercut with a dramatic grunt. 

“Why’d you make him sound Russian?”

“I was trying to make him sound stupid ‘cause that’s what he is.”

“I have four doctorates,” Erwin states as he falls into step with both of you, finally moving from his little hiding place behind one of the news trucks. “I’m not stupid. And, I do not sound like that.”

“That’s what you think,” Levi grumbles, doing his best to shrug away from the larger man when Erwin slings an arm around his shoulders. It doesn’t work, and Levi ends up stumbling to keep up with Erwin’s longer strides, which only serves to irritate him further. 

“You looked good up there. I mean, you sounded good. Sounded sure, comforting…” 

You shake your head at Erwin’s obvious struggle to just not be the big weirdo that he is, but it sure is painful to watch sometimes. 

Governor Zachary takes over the conference, leaving the three of you to make your way inside the lodge that the emergency broadcast was set up outside of. Levi and Erwin bicker through the lobby then through the back doors that lead you to the jeep that you all swing yourselves into. 

The sky is still a little dusty with shaken sediment, and some of the park rangers are setting up barricades at the mouths of a couple hiking trails leading to what is now a moderately large crevasse that’s opened up in the Biscuit Basin. 

Other than that, the park doesn’t feel much different as you ride through it on your way back to the lab. The Summer sun brings with it your favorite 70 degree days, and if it weren’t for Erwin’s questionable driving, you’d be tempted to hang half your body out the window just to feel the warmth better. The faint smell of sulfur in the air is soothing at this point—the smell of activity, the smell of science, the smell of home. Geysers are still shooting boiling water to the skies. The mud pots are still bubbling like ominous cauldrons. That earthquake couldn’t have shaken too much out of place if all the geothermal spots are still behaving as they normally do.

The tires kick up rocks and dust as Erwin brakes dramatically outside of the base, right behind another familiar jeep that makes Levi roll his eyes. 

“Great. The boy scout’s here.” 

“Oh, be nice, you little grump,” Erwin chastises him. “Mike’s been nothing but kind to us since he started working here.”

“Yeah, except for the time he misjudged the depth of that puddle and—”

“Splashed you with mud, yeah, yeah, we know, Levi,” you finish for him as you slide out of the vehicle. “You bring it up every time you see the guy. We know.”

“And, didn’t he apologize afterward?” Erwin prompts.

Levi doesn’t answer, but you respond for him: “Profusely. Drove him back to the lab, offered him his spare change of clothes—”

“Useless,” Levi hisses. “The dude’s a giant.”

“Not his fault he’s…” You try not to sound too giddy when you step through the door and see the man in question. “Enormous.” 

You don’t know Mike very well, one of the newer park rangers but with a background in geology which leads him to your neck of the woods very often. The few conversations you have had with him have all been pleasant. He’s soft-spoken but obviously intelligent with good instincts about both the park’s weather and wildlife. 

He’s also the only ranger you’ve seen actually pull off the dorky park uniform, but that could just be because the different shades of green look good against his tan skin and bring out his light eyes. Even taller than Erwin and a little broader too, M. Zacharias (as his little, metal name tag reads) is a slab of a man, and yet, when he grins, it’s almost boyish. 

“Hey, Mike, what’s up?” You greet.

He turns his head to look at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, then offers one of the soft smiles you were hoping for. “Just came to drop off some samples for Hange.”

“Disgusting,” Levi mutters just for you to hear as he passes, and you shove him hard enough to make him stumble and flip you off. 

“How’d the press conference go?” Hange asks, tossing a small, corked flask of mud from hand to hand—what you assume to be the sample—while twirling in their computer chair. The last member of your team, Moblit Berner, glances away from the holographic model he’s studying to hear the answer. 

“I think it went well,” Erwin says. “Levi handled it like a champion, as always.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, old man,” the brunet bites out, joining Moblit next to the expensive projection table in the middle of the lab. “What’re we lookin’ at?”

“I’m just running the numbers from today’s quake. The possible effects it had underground.”

“And?”

Moblit is quiet for a beat too long.

“Mobs, what is it?” 

You, Erwin, and Hange make your way over to the table, staring at the laser-lit park model and the chamber underneath it. 

“Well, in most of the scenarios, it’s fine,” Moblit tries. “Nothing to worry about.”

“And, in the others?” 

He looks to Erwin, as everyone does in times of concern. Thick eyebrows pinched together, your boss motions to the hologram. “Show us.”

Moblit punches a few things in on the app he uses to control the model, then takes a deep breath and lets it play out for everyone to see, including Mike who slowly makes his way over, curiosity apparently getting the best of him. 

At first, nothing looks to change, just a living, breathing reenactment of what you were seeing today—every geyser, every fumarole, every little rumble, every minute rise and fall of the ground sped up to be detected with the human eye. 

And then, it stops. 

“Why did it…”

“Just watch,” Moblit shushes you. 

The outline of the ground fractures in several different places, statistics for different earthquakes blinking above. The known vents of the park—every geyser, mudpot, and fumarole—are rendered inactive, and under it all, that massive chamber everyone is always so worried about begins to bulge upward and outward, growing larger and larger until…

The map shorts out, flickering then disappearing entirely, leaving the six of you staring at the space where it was shining just seconds ago. 

“Was that…” 

Erwin inhales deeply through his nose before exhaling the word that will eventually bring the nation to its knees.

"Supereruption."

3  Y E A R S  B E F O R E

Even through the thick headset, the whir of the helicopter blades is loud, a rhythm pulsing through the air strong enough to be felt in your chest right alongside your beating heart. 

Thankfully, Mike’s deep voice is loud and clear when he speaks, nodding his head to the right, “Look down at about two o’clock.”

You follow his command, tilting your head and peering down at an empty field. 

“I don’t see anything,” you say.

The microphone hanging in front of his mouth picks up his chuckle, and the sound of it echoes in your ears, making you grin albeit a little confused. 

“Exactly. That’s a big spot for bison this time of year.”

“Then why aren’t they here?”

Mike lets the chopper hover for a while, both hands still on their respective control levers. 

“Ground’s been moving too much,” he says after a few seconds of silent staring. You’d known the answer already but hearing the wildlife expert confirm it fills you with a little more dread than you’d originally harbored. “They feel things we don’t, the tiny quakes, the tremors. Stuff you only think the seismograph picks up—they feel all of it.”

“They know what’s coming,” you say more to yourself than to him. 

Mike offers you one of those charming, close-lipped smiles. “When in doubt, trust the animals.” 

A line you’ve heard him say a few times now. Mike loves everything that lives in the park, from all the common lake trout and sand cranes to the endangered grizzly bears and gray wolves. 

Trust the animals, he says. Because he trusts them. Because he loves them. 

“You wanna fly over the Grand Prismatic?” Mike asks, pulling you from your thoughts, and when you look over, you find your reflection in his mirrored aviators as he stares at you. 

His mouth quirks up at the corners, causing yours to do the same, and you nod. “Yeah, always.”

It’s your favorite view in the park, the colorful spring from up above. Mike had learned that a few months ago, and now whenever you ride in the chopper with him, he makes sure to pass over the beautiful attraction just for you.

Nearly 200° Fahrenheit with a pH of 8.7, the pool, while still dangerous due to its temperature, is one of the more moderate dangers of the national park, tame in comparison to the Norris Geyser Basin with temperatures up to 459° (a thousand meters below the surface, anyway) and a pH of about two. It’s dissolved bones—human bones. And, would claim even more if given the chance. 

You suppose that’s expected for a basin that’s sitting over a chamber of 1,500° molten magma. 

The Grand Prismatic is just as stunning today as it is every other. Its outer orange and yellow rings darken to greens and blues the further inward you look, thick steam rising from all over but more condensed over the middle. 

It was one of the park's biggest attractions, tourists flocking to the spring with their cameras, too stricken by the vivid chromaticism to listen or read about the temperatures and microbials that are responsible for the colors in the first place. 

As you hover above now, just to the side of the steam, your heart aches. There are no ignorant tourists to take pictures of the pool, the boardwalks and trails to these hot spots now blocked off once it became apparent that the earthquake that took place last year was not the last of its kind. Your team as well as the park rangers went to the park board as a unit and suggested that tourists needed to be kept away from as many geothermal features as possible, all of you with the same fear in mind: someone (or many someones) falling in. 

It's always been a risk, but now, with weekly rumblings, that risk has multiplied exponentially. All it takes is someone losing their footing on the boardwalk over the Norris Geyser Basin for serene sightseeing to turn into tragedy, and that's on a good day. Throw a 5.7 earthquake into the mix, and the park could lose an entire tour group to the heat and acid. 

It's just not a risk any of you are willing to take anymore. 

Most of the park remains open. Old Faithful continues to draw people in by the thousands. They sit and watch boiling water shoot into the sky every hour or so, clapping happily at the sight, unaware of the way you and your team hold your breath in wait, hoping for the geyser to go off on its usual schedule. 

One day it will stop. One day they'll all stop. And, then… 

"I can't believe it's all gonna be gone one day," you muse, blinking down at the prismatic pool for as long as Mike will let you. 

"Nah," the man disagrees. "Not gone. Buried, yeah, but not gone."

You snort, turn back to him with a grin and roll your eyes. "Yeah, no big deal. Just miles of pyroclast and ash, probably snow when we get thrust into another ice age 'cause of the crazy climate swing..."

"Alright, alright, I get it. The sun dimeth and the land sinketh."

"Gusheth forth steam and gutting fire," you continue grimly.

Mike turns the helicopter back toward the landing zone, saying nothing else and leaving you to take in the sights below. You're grateful for the silence; it's good for processing, for preparation. 

And, you're grateful for Mike, one of your best friends at this point—soft and kind despite his intimidating stature, smart as a whip, and just as stunning, if not more so, than the Grand Prismatic. 

"Any idea what you'll do afterward?" He asks, holding a hand out to you to help you from your seat in the chopper. 

"Not really. Survive, I guess." 

You land just a little too close to him, your face nearly coming in direct contact with his broad chest, but Mike steps back just in time, making you extend your arm, still connected at the fingers, before he drops your hand. 

"A feat all on its own," he says flatly, but he perks up as you both begin walking to the park ranger base. "Maybe you'll find another team to work on."

"I don't want to find another team," you tell him honestly. "This is my team. This is my home."

Mike hums, an understanding little sound, body warm when he gently bumps into you on the gravel pathway to the lodge. "Yeah, I know."

A geophysics major at UCLA with a specific interest in volcanology, getting to intern with the Erwin Smith at the Yellowstone supervolcano had been a dream come true. You'd expected to gain knowledge and experience—nothing more and nothing less. You'd lived out here for one summer during your graduate program, clocking the field experience you needed to get your degree and taking in everything you could. 

Back then, it felt like all you did was ask questions and get in the way. By the end of that summer, you knew every variation of Levi Ackermann's irritated sighs, every different pitch of Hange Zoe's shouts and how they correlated with their experiments. Moblit had been the newest permanent addition and was even more nervous than he is now, trying and failing to keep up with Hange (which he's much better at doing these days). 

They were all fantastic, but it had been the lead researcher who'd reeled you in. You'd never met anyone as passionate as Dr. Erwin Smith, captivated by the monster underneath the park and thrilled to share his brain with anyone willing to hold their hands out for it. Hell, he'd even helped you with your Master's thesis—hydrothermally altered mineralized systems and their seismic reflections. 

When you graduated, the Yellowstone team was the first you reached out to and the first you heard back from. Erwin said you'd been a perfect fit even as a student (which you hadn't exactly believed but definitely blushed at anyway). Mobs, Hange, and even Levi seemed happy to have you back. It was like you were meant to be here. In this park. With all of them. 

Studying the volcano and all of its properties has always been like breathing to you—natural and necessary. You move when it moves, every shake and tremor a heartbeat in your own chest, every shooting geyser like blood in your veins. The mudpots are your bubbling emotions, the fumaroles, your sense of building pressure and release.

You feel at home in the park because you trust it. Because you love it. 

You don't have room for another team in your heart, but as you walk inside the lodge next to Mike, watching as he takes off his sunglasses and grins at one of the other rangers, you think you at least have room for one more person. 

2  Y E A R S  B E F O R E

The lab has two extra bodies in it—two extra unwelcome bodies who keep getting in your way and touching things as they ask questions that no one has the answers to yet.

“When did you say this was going to happen?” The rotund state governor, Dhalis Zachary, asks for the second time since arriving, picking up a sample test tube that Moblit immediately plucks from his hand with a nervous smile.

“As I said before, it’s difficult to place a concrete timeline on an event like this,” Erwin tells the white-haired man. “We don’t exactly have in depth records of the last three eruptions, so all we have to go off of is the earth itself and our simulations.”

At the edge of the projection table, Nile Dok, FEMA director, cautiously waves a hand through the holographic model displayed in front of him. He obviously doesn’t think anyone is watching him because the slender man jumps in surprise when you snort at your desk, and his angular cheekbones take on a pink tint of embarrassment from having been caught.

He clears his throat, straightens the knot that sits over it, then turns to face Erwin and prompts, “Three eruptions before. One was a lot bigger than the others, though, right?”

Erwin nods. “Huckleberry Ridge. Over two million years ago.”

“We’re hoping—if a supereruption is to occur—it’ll be closer to the size of Mesa Falls,” you pipe up.

“Which one was that?” Zachary asks.

“One-point-three million years ago, two-hundred-and-eighty cubic kilometers of erupted materials…” Levi lists off as he makes his way over to the table with a sanitary wipe in hand. He doesn’t like people in his space, doesn’t like strangers in the lab, even (especially) government officials (“They leave fingerprints, and they breathe on everything, and they waste our fucking time.”).

“Two-hundred-and-eighty cubic kilometers… That’s the best-case scenario?” Zachary looks to Erwin, eyebrows raised high over his wire glasses.

Erwin stares at him for a moment, contemplating the best and easiest way to explain this to someone who has no real experience in the field. Eventually, he settles on, “Moblit, can you run some simulations for me?”

“Of course, sir,” the mousy scientist agrees, phone in hand and pulling up the app before the boss can even finish speaking.

Everyone gathers around the table except for Levi who steps away from it, grumbling under his breath about coming back to clean it later. He at least hits the lights, making the model easier to see as Erwin starts listing off numbers and scenarios.

“The best case, actually, is only one vent opening, maybe two. It would be something comparable to Mount St. Helen’s, though probably a bit bigger, say point-five cubic kilometers of material. It would be necessary to evacuate the park and this region of the state at the very least.”

Zachary hums, “And, how likely is that?”

Erwin shrugs. “Hard to say right now. As the earthquakes increase, though, the likelihood of a small eruption like that, uh, dwindles.”

“Small,” Nile scoffs.

Zachary makes a similar noise, slightly louder, a little more offended, then rattles off, “Mount St. Helen’s killed almost sixty people. The blast, the ash, the lahars—” as if you don’t all already know.

“No one’s discounting the damage of the eruption,” Levi cuts him off. “But, if you’re sweatin’ at those numbers, all due respect, Governor, I don’t know if you’re ready to stomach the rest of this little light show.”

The older man cuts his eyes at Levi who squints right back at him, only turn and shuffle over to his desk when Erwin waves him further away, a silent way of saying ‘keep your smart mouth away from the authority figures’.

“Moving on,” you cough, twirling a finger to get both Erwin and Mobs to continue.

“Yes,” Erwin nods. “So, any eruption is dependent on how much magma in the chamber is eruptible magma. Just because it’s there doesn’t mean it will come out.”

Moblit punches in a few numbers to show what a small-scale eruption would look like, first with one vent then with two.

“With just that amount, even with two vents, it isn’t enough to completely destabilize the chamber.”

“And, destabilizing it would be… bad…” Nile states more than asks, brown eyes lit up by the model in front of him.

“No shit,” everyone hears Levi grumble from his desk, and Erwin huffs and looks at you, expression a little exasperated as he jerks a thumb back toward the grumpy man in yet another one of his silent motions— a plea in this case—'go take care of him’ which you do.

Levi is slumped in his computer chair, arms crossed over his chest as he peers over his desktop at the four men gathered around the hologram.

“Should’a just gone with Hange and the boy scout to collect samples when I had the chance,” he mutters.

“You hate collecting samples, especially sulfur samples. Which is what they’re getting now.”

“Yeah, well I hate these guys even more.” He says it quietly enough so that they won’t be able to hear, and even if they could, both Governor Zachary and Nile are too invested in the information that the scientists are giving them to pay attention to anything else.

“What’d they ever do to you?” You push, curious now because sure, Levi has always been the surliest of the team, but it’s rare that he’s surly and loud about it.

“Nothing. They have done nothing because they don’t belong here. They have no idea—no fucking idea—what’s about to happen.” You can hear his frustration even through his whispers. “Best case scenarios? Why are we even going over those? We know damn well that we’re not looking at one or two vents. And, we’re not lookin’ at Mesa Falls either.”

Letting out a long breath, you lean against Levi’s desk, ignoring the way he grunts in protest.

“I know. I’m sure Erwin and Moblit will prep them for the worst case.”

“There’s no prepping for it,” Levi hisses, gray eyes flashing. “We’re talking about—"

“…A nationwide cataclysmic event.” Both of you register Erwin’s voice at the same time and glance at the other group to find them staring at the lit-up simulation of the Huckleberry Ridge eruption.

“Which would pretty quickly turn into a worldwide problem,” Moblit adds quietly.

“Worldwide?” You hear Nile question in a low but very alarmed tone. “Because of the ash?”

“Well, yes, but, it’s not just ash,” Erwin clarifies, diving into his explanation of tephra and how dangerous it is. He reminds the men how far it traveled after the Mount St. Helen’s eruption since they’ve apparently latched onto that one, then challenges, “Now imagine an eruption about… six hundred times that size.”

“Six…” Nile swallows, turning his entire, slender frame toward Erwin and repeating, “Six hundred times bigger? That’s what we’re expecting?”

In his little rolling chair, Levi’s chest puffs a bit, finally satisfied that the gravity of the situation is beginning to set in. “Maybe they aren’t as dumb as they look.”

Erwin is about to say something, right hand lifted with his index finger extended in a very matter-of-fact way, but before he can manage to get anything out, the door to the lab swings open and Hange walks in, Mike just behind them carrying all the collected samples in what almost looks like a lunchbox.

“We’re back—” Hange stops, taking in their surroundings, the lack of lights, the bright projection, the grim energy, then shouts, “Hey, get some Pink Floyd playing! Like a planetarium in here! Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me…”

“Dr. Zoe,” Moblit clears his throat. “We were just going over the utter devastation a supereruption could wreak on the country.”

“Oh, were you?” Hange pauses, brow rising, lips puckering into a sour expression. “My bad.”

Raising a hand to your forehead, you laugh to yourself for a few seconds before shaking the untimely amusement off and making your way over to Mike to take the sample kit from him.

“Careful,” he warns jokingly as he passes it off. “Got some very fragile gas and mud in there.”

“Yeah?” You tease. “So, I shouldn’t, like, shake it or anything?”

“Definitely should not shake it. Here, here, just—” He takes it back, grinning broadly as he tells you, “I think it’s best if you let a professional handle such dangerous compounds.”

All the doom-and-gloom you had been feeling mere seconds ago evaporates entirely, and you let out a frankly embarrassing giggle as you watch Mike very carefully set the samples down on Hange’s lab table, making a show of securing them and whispering a final, “Stay,” so that you clamp a hand over your mouth.

Levi groans in disgust, and, at the same time, Erwin mutters an apology to Zachary and Nile for, “… employing a team of children.”

Your face heats in embarrassment, but it doesn’t keep you from smiling at Mike when he saunters back over, looking rather sheepish himself.

“Lunchtime soon, right?”

“Yeah, in a bit—”

“Please go now, for the love of God,” Erwin sighs. “And, take Levi and Hange with you.”

None of you need telling twice, quickly grabbing wallets and home-packed meals before rushing from the lab before your boss decides to murder one or all of you.

Levi steers Hange toward his car, leaving you alone with Mike which you don’t mind in the slightest. You take most of your lunches with him anyway, some of your breakfasts and dinners too, so this is simply part of your daily routine.

“I’ve got some sandwiches packed already. Wanna hit Mount Haynes?” He suggests, sliding into the driver’s seat of his jeep.

You point a fingergun at him and nod. “I like the way you think, sir.”

He takes a very specific route, avoiding any damaged areas, having to veer off of the actual road at a certain point to take a safer path he and other rangers have made. You watch the mountains of the park grow closer and closer, what you know to be the ridge of Yellowstone’s caldera looming nearer.

Mike parks at the base of your intended destination then reaches into the backseat to grab the aforementioned lunch. You have no intentions of actually hiking to the top of the mountain—don’t have the time or the will, honestly—but as soon as the two of you have worked up a sweat and are at a decent enough elevation to look out on the park underneath, you drop to the dusty ground and take it all in.

Even from this distance, you can see some of the gases and steam in the air. That’s the only movement there is, though, save for the occasional ranger vehicle zipping along. The land seems almost barren at this point. The grass is still green. The sun is still bright as it is every Summer.

But, there are no animals, no tourists, no real life. Instead, it’s been replaced with cracks and crevasses, with barricades and warning signs.

Trail Closed

Road Closed

Danger: Keep Out

It’s been almost six months since the park decided to shut down to the public, and if you’re being honest, it should have closed its doors long before. It took people dying to bring the board to their senses, an earthquake that shook the ground for minutes, the crust of the earth splitting right under the historical lodge that so many loved.

Fourteen casualties. Twenty-nine injured.

That’s what it took.

You barely recognize the park now, feel like the last endangered species left within its boundaries. It’s just the research team, some of the rangers, and the occasional outside visitor (board members, government officials, or press that gets waved away).

Some would argue that the park is dead, but you know better; it’s livelier than it has been in hundreds of thousands of years, a shuddering, breathing monster finally rising to its feet after an eternity of slumber. Soon, it will open its mouth in an earth-shattering scream, and then, everyone will see.

Not dead; just waking up.

“You look tired.” Mike’s voice may as well be carried by the breeze, light and low, refreshing as it passes over you, and you flash him a smile while nodding.

“Exhausted.”

He grabs a sandwich from the lunchbox, and you fish hand sanitizer from one of the many pockets on your pants, squirting it into your hand first then holding it out to the man beside you.

“Seems like you spend more time here than at your apartment.”

“Oh, most definitely.” You unwrap what looks to be turkey and pepper-jack and try to ignore the way your stomach flips at the fact that it’s your favorite simple-sandwich-combo and that Mike remembered. “Lot to do in the lab. Obviously.” You take a bite—no mustard, only mayo—and feel some of the tension between your shoulder blades begin to unwind.

“Figure you wouldn’t want it any other way, though,” Mike comments before chomping into his own sandwich.

“Right you are. I mean, end of the world, potentially. Scary stuff, but also…” You swallow, lick your lips and stare out at the landscape in front of you as you grapple with words. “It’s like… I’m terrified, but I feel like I’m exactly where I need to be. Like…”

This is how I’m supposed to go out, you almost say, but you’re smart to keep it to yourself. That’s a thought for you and you alone, one you haven’t shared with anyone because nobody else would understand except maybe Erwin.

“This is what you’re meant to do,” Mike supplies, and you look over at him. “This is what you love. I get that.”

And, he’s right. But, the park and volcanology—those aren’t the only things you love.

Mike sits there, legs crossed like an overgrown kindergartener, shaggy hair blowing in the wind, light green eyes so, incredibly warm and bright, and it feels like you can’t breathe anymore, like your lungs and throat are already full of ash that hasn’t fallen yet, tight with dying declarations you can’t bring yourself to make.

“Have you ever heard of Katia and Maurice Krafft?” You ask, and yes, your voice does feel somewhat strangled, the space behind your eyes burning just a little hotter than usual.

Mike shakes his head, takes another bite, and gives you his undivided attention.

“They were these French volcanologists who got really famous for the pictures and footage they took of erupting volcanoes. The recordings they got for the community were—I mean, they were pioneers. They changed the game. There’s photos and videos of them just—” you gesture nebulously with both your hands, nearly flinging your sandwich off the side of the mountain and making Mike reach out and catch your wrist before you can.

“Please, no feeding the park’s wildlife, ma’am,” he jokes easily, and you have to shove the sandwich into your mouth to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl. Mike shows the smallest of satisfied smiles, completely unaware of his own charm, and it’s maddening and intoxicating, and it’s all you can do to keep talking about the brave scientists.

“Anyway,” you continue. “Katia would get, like, within feet of lava flows. Just walkin’ right beside ‘em in her special heat suit. And, they’d wear protective helmets because of, you know—”

“Explosions. Falling rocks.”

 “Yeah, exactly. They were just there, documenting it all happening, nerves of fucking steel. Katia was usually the one gathering samples and stuff while Maurice recorded, but he was right in the thick of it too. This badass couple learning and adventuring together.”

Mike eventually questions, “What happened to them?” but you’re sure he knows the answer when you deflate a bit.

“Mount Unzen eruption—got caught in the pyroclastic flow. Died instantly.”

“At least they were doing what they loved,” he says, and you nod.

You’re silent for a while, neither of you eating but both of you staring. You think about the Kraffts often, especially now with Yellowstone’s imminent eruption. Doing what they loved… They died for their research, and though you never got the chance to meet them or even speak with anyone who has met them, you have a feeling they wouldn’t have wanted it to happen any other way.

“Just so you know,” Mike gets your attention, and when you look over at him, your heart swells.

The sun is reflected in his eyes, making light green glow with more than just warmth and sincerity, and god, you’re so in love with him, you can feel it in your bone marrow. You ache for him, you pine for him, and you want to live for him, but how…

“I’d film you walking next to a lava flow,” he tells you. Despite the little smile playing at his lips, you know he isn’t kidding.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and you have to look away before any actually fall, but your sniffle definitely gives you away. You swear internally, berating yourself for getting emotional in front of Mike, though you can’t say you’re too surprised. Your stress levels have been through the roof, working non-stop for months now, the government breathing down your neck. People have died and the park is literally fracturing before your eyes, and you’re not ready to see it end—to see everything as you know it come to an end.

“Pretty dusty up here,” Mike comments while nudging you. You find him holding out a handkerchief, letting you take it then turning his gaze forward again to allow you a little privacy to dab at your eyes.

Mike has senses beyond the normal human spectrum. He has a sense for weather unlike anyone you’ve ever seen before, from thunderstorms and tornadoes to record snowfall and, on a few occasions, earthquakes. You can still vividly remember being in the lab the day of the fatal quake that damaged the hotel, seeing Mike suddenly look at the seismogram seconds before it started picking up the first tremors. Levi had called it “freakish”, but you had called him “incredible”.

It’s not just the weather, though. Mike has a way with people and animals too, like he can gauge their emotions and act appropriately. It’s how he knows what days he can push Levi’s buttons and get away with it, how he knows when Hange is too busy and overwhelmed to gather samples themself, so he gathers some for them.

And, it’s how he knows exactly when he needs to pull you into a hug, like when the team realized the chances of a small to moderate eruption were next to nothing, like when he had told you how many of those hotel guests had gotten hurt and died and you’d stared at him with wide, watery eyes, and like right now, as you think about Katia and Maurice Krafft, the fate they met and how yours might not be any different.

Will you die doing what you love? Will you be able to welcome it as bravely as they did?

You rest your head on Mike’s shoulder, letting yourself melt into his side, his arm sturdy and grounding where it wraps around you, and as you look out over the sunlit grounds, one last question plagues your mind:

Does a pyroclastic flow burn as hot as the molten feelings inside of you?

You can’t imagine anything does.

1  Y E A R  B E F O R E

The message is broadcasted straight from the state capitol, Levi's expression grim as he reads off the paper hidden on the podium. 

"I know all of this sounds apocalyptic—the ash and blackouts and probable climate change, and it is scary, but we still have some time, so there's no reason to panic. We just urge that if you haven't already started preparing, now's the time. Please."

A couple steps behind him and a little to the right is Erwin, standing tall and nodding at everything Levi says as if he's providing some kind of credibility. 

"Considering we're looking at a VEI eight, the team of volcanologists at Yellowstone have recommended that all of Wyoming and its neighboring states evacuate, but I'll let Homeland Security go over all that."

As he turns to step back, the crowd of reporters and journalists begin shouting out questions, and Levi grimaces as he moves to stand next to Erwin who places a hand in his shoulder. 

You can't hear everything being asked from where you're watching at the lab, but you can't imagine it's anything good judging by the way Levi's frown just keeps growing. 

Fortunately, the vaguely familiar secretary of Homeland Security, Dot Pixis, takes the stand quickly, holding up wrinkled hands in an attempt to calm the crowd. 

"We have some more very important information to cover in this address, so if you'll allow me…" He clears his throat and straightens a stack of papers on the podium, no doubt a huge list of protocols that the public will only half listen to. 

You swivel back and forth in your chair as you watch the thin man on screen, his voice scratchy but strangely soothing as he outlines rationing, supply storage, and evacuation routes. 

"We're also negotiating with our neighboring countries about opening borders. Now, anyone seeking refuge would still be required to fill out an application for a temporary visa, but—"

"God, you know they gotta love that," you mumble to yourself. 

Hange, tinkering somewhere behind you, laughs and agrees, "Yeah, after decades of treating immigrants like trash, and now we're just knocking on their doors, asking for help. Ridiculous."

"Embarrassing, is what it is." 

It was for whichever government official had to make that call, anyway. You're positive that had been a hard pill to swallow. 

As far as you've heard, the foreign affairs part of this mess is actually going quite well. You'd accompanied Erwin to the big meeting with Canadian officials and watched him and Pixis plead a case for America, emphasizing just how bad the eruption will be "at home", then switched tactics at whiplash speed to go into how countries needed to work together since this wouldn't just be the US's problem in the long run. 

It turned into a rather inspiring speech, if you're being honest, prompted you to text Levi a short, how is E so damn charming all the time? to which he'd responded, Believe me, you're asking the wrong fuckin guy. 

With multiple government agencies now backing the states and setting plans in motion, the impending eruption seems even more real. You thought your stress levels were high before, that your sleep pattern left little to be desired, but oh, you had been wrong. 

Case in point being Mike walking into the lab with a brown paper bag and slightly unpleasant expression as he asks, "Have you eaten today?" 

Your glare has no real meaning as you grumble, "Had a granola bar this morning."

"It's nearly six," he groans, pushing you, chair and all, up to your desk and setting the bag in front of you. "Please eat something before you pass out."

"Okay, okay, Christ. You're more attentive than my mother."

"I met your mom last year, and you and I both know she would be hysterical if she knew how you've been treating yourself lately."

He has a point. In fact, you're glad Mike is naturally quiet and didn't bond too strongly with her, otherwise you have a feeling he would have called her by now to complain. 

The chicken salad sandwich you bite into must be imbued with some kind of magic, because you let out an honest to god moan when you swallow the first bite. 

"Oh my god, what did you put in this?" You ask as you blink up at your best friend. 

Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. "Uh, actual nutrients maybe? Weird how your body needs those."

Hands too busy shoving more food into your mouth, you headbutt him right at the hip, just hard enough to make him grunt and sway. He steadies himself, glances down at you like he's annoyed but ends up breaking into a grin when he catches what you assume to be a piece of chicken salad dotting the corner of your mouth. 

"What am I gonna do with you," he mumbles, wiping it with a gentle thumb. 

Your body warms with both embarrassment and affection, but you can't quite find a response even as your head clears for the first time in about two days. You really do need to start taking better care of yourself. 

The undeniable feeling of being watched makes your neck prickle, and you break Mike's gaze to find Hange staring at both of you, a not-so-subtle smile making their mouth curl mischievously. You have a pretty good idea of what they're thinking, and you're heart starts beating a little faster at the thought of them possibly speaking it out loud, but before they get a chance, Mike's phone rings. 

You catch a glimpse of the name displayed before he picks it up—Gelgar—recognize it and tease, "One of the doomsday preppers, right?" 

Because no matter how much Mike denies it, just like he does now— "They're not doomsday preppers—" you know that his friends are a little odd. Extremely well prepared, but odd. 

"Hey man, what's up?" He answers, stepping away from you. "Isn't it almost two there?" 

You don't try to listen in, just look back to Hange and shake your head when their smile grows. 

"Stop."

"What?" They giggle. "I'm not even doing anything!" 

"You're thinking things, though."

"Well yeah, I'm always thinking things. How else would I have gotten this smart?" They flip their ponytail for emphasis and toss a wink your way, but Hange's voice gets oddly sincere when they tell you, "Seriously, though. You guys should get while the getting's good. I don't know why you haven't jumped each other's bones yet."

You splutter, look around frantically to make sure Mike isn't within earshot, and thank god, he's in the next room over. 

"Hange!" 

"I'm just saying! It's like watching Erwin and Levi from a few years ago. God, that was a nightmare."

"How dare you. I am nothing like—"

"Yeah, yeah. When do they get back in anyway?" 

You both look to the TV that's still playing the live address, easily spotting your missing team members behind Secretary Pixis. 

"Probably not 'til later tonight. Levi's gonna try to talk Erwin into getting a hotel, I bet, but he's gonna wanna come back to the lab and check everything before he goes to bed."

"How do you know he wants to come back?" 

You show a sheepish grin, fishing the chips out of the paper sack Mike brought, then answer, "'Cause that’s what I’d wanna do."

*

It's late. Far too late to be at work, but being at home never feels right these days. It's too quiet, too still, too not the lab. The only time you genuinely enjoy being there is when friends are over for a movie or meal over the weekend. Other than that, you're not at all attached. 

Not the way you are here.

Almost midnight, you move from table to table, working, organizing, just keeping busy. You're very awake, still jittery from the quake that shook the park at around three that day. It lasted for almost three minutes, splitting the ground dangerously close to Old Faithful, and the geyser hasn't gone off since which is troubling. If too many of the geothermal spots stop releasing pressure, the eruption will take place sooner than anticipated. 

It's why you're here so late, pouring over the data, studying the numbers and possible effects. 

You're not alone, though. Erwin is also shuffling around the lab, but he's focused on something else, a project of sorts. 

"Can you come take a look at this?" He calls from the projection table, and you drop what you're doing to join him. 

The model isn't lit up as a hologram, surprisingly. Instead, Erwin has paper blueprints laid, curling at the edges from being rolled up. It takes you a second to realize what you're looking at, but when it comes together, you inhale sharply. 

It's a simple design, a square floorplan with a couple entrances. The only exit looks to lead upward, though, and it's easy to tell that means Erwin wants this to be underground. There are notes scribbled in the blank spaces, 4 meters down, bomb proof top, ventilation, generators, gasoline?, rations < 5yrs, medicine, vitamins, guns. The list goes on, handwriting sloppier and sloppier the more thoughts Erwin had at the time. 

"You think this would be ready in a year?"

Erwin shrugs. "With the right construction team, yes. That one bunker designer…" Erwin snaps, trying to think of the name, but it doesn't come to him. "Whoever—He built ten shelters in two years." 

You stick your hands in your back pockets as you lean over to look closer. It could just be your overworked brain, but it looks like a good design, something someone actually has a chance of surviving in. 

Hearing your name makes you look up again. Erwin has you pinned with one of his serious blue gazes. "No one else will understand, so please keep this plan to yourself."

You nod but venture to ask, "You haven't told Levi?" 

"No," he answers, mouth pulling downward. "It's… Going to be a fight."

"Understandably so. You're basically married to the volcano, though, Erwin."

"So are you."

His eyes are shining as your lips twist into a grimace. He's gotten to know you well over the years. You've always shared a certain bond over Yellowstone, one the other team members just don't have. To them, it's just a job, just science. 

To you and Erwin, though, it's a religion. You're in love with the park, all its secrets and eccentricities. It's your home; it's where you belong. 

"Assuming this does get built," Erwin starts, lifting a thick eyebrow in curiosity. "You would want to stay, right?" 

"You mean, ride out a supereruption? Be the first to see the zone-one damage?" 

Erwin doesn't answer, but he does smile, excitement dancing just below the surface of his stare. 

You feel it too, the urge to throw caution to the wind, to take a chance that could very possibly get you both killed. The Kraffts flash through your mind again, their failed attempt at escape.

A breathless, "Fuck yeah," tumbles from your mouth before you can dwell on the consequences for too long. 

It's time to either live it up or go down in ash and flames. 

6  M O N T H S  B E F O R E 

Yellowstone is unrecognizable. The ground is mostly made up of large crevasses and smaller cracks, debris from fallen buildings left in piles with no one to clean them up. 

The geysers are all inactive at this point, but steam is still rising from the springs, and the mudpots are still bubbling. It's the only thing that's keeping the volcano from erupting. 

The ground shakes multiple times a day, the lab seismographs constantly picking up activity. The little ones don't faze you anymore. You and Mike secure the glass samples to make sure they don't break while Erwin and Levi basically hug their computers. Yours was damaged in the quake that prompted Hange and Moblit to leave—a 6.7 that caused Hange to fall into their desk, breaking their collarbone in the process. After getting Hange pain meds and a sling, the two of them were on a plane to D.C. that same night. 

Every day is another risk taken. Now, it's just you, Erwin, Levi, and Mike. 

The latter two spend most of their days dropping hints about leaving soon as well. Mike has already made plans to fly to Norway and join his not-doomsday prepper friends and brings it up often.

"You should come. See the tulip fields while they're still around."

"Gel and Nana have done a great job setting up the ranch. They wanna let as many people stay as they can." 

"You'd really like them. They bicker like an old married couple, but they're good people."

Levi takes a different approach with Erwin, appeals to the other man's desire to help and protect. 

"We really should head to the homeland security office. They don't know what they're dealing with."

"Dok is an idiot. They need a bigger brain over there for guidance or whatever."

"Your long-term plan will be better than anything those government fucks will come up with anyway."

Every time, you and Erwin gently wave them off with promises of "soon" and "just a little longer." Neither of you breathe a word about staying. Despite the fact that construction on the bunker has not started and you're running out of time, both of you are dead set on the plan: go down with the park. 

You're found out before it can come to fruition, however. 

The remaining team is sitting in the lab, busy with their own little projects, when Mike looks up suddenly, takes a deep breath, then says, "Earthquake," just as the seismogram starts going wild. 

He pulls you from your chair quickly, dropping to the ground and bringing you with him to crawl under your desk. On your knees, your body curls in on itself and you lock your hands over the back of your neck as the floor beneath you starts to rumble violently. 

You can hear Levi cursing from somewhere as the sound of glass shattering rings throughout the lab. You think another computer falls, models and books flying from shelves. 

Mike huddles over you, one hand gripping the leg of the desk while the other protects your ribs. You want to tell him to shield himself, but you know there's no use. Besides, the weight and warmth is comforting even in the face of danger—his chest hot against your back, the epitome of a knight in shining armor. 

It lasts for several minutes. The power cuts off, windows crack, doors swing open only to slam shut again. You know the lab is going to be an absolute wreck when it's over. 

When the shaking finally settles, everyone crawls out of their hiding places. Levi warns, "Be ready for aftershocks," as if you don't know, and Erwin fumbles in his desk until he finds a flashlight. 

The ray of light illuminates the damage. Just as you suspected, the place looks like a tornado blew through. Glass litters the floor along with the far-flung books and park models. Both Levi and Erwin's computers fell and disconnected, and your stomach drops as you think about all the potentially lost information. 

"You okay?" Mike asks, pulling you up to your knees so he can look at your face. 

"I'm fine," you tell him, his hands on your cheeks making you flush, so you distract yourself. "E, Levi, you guys okay?" 

"Yes," Erwin answers first. 

Levi shows his face, a deep frown making his brow furrow, as he looks at his desktop. "I'm pissed but uninjured."

The four of you spend the next couple of hours cleaning up what you can, pausing and taking cover when the aftershocks hit, then starting over as the lab sustains more and more damage. 

Mike sweeps up the glass. Erwin focuses on getting the computers back on the desks safely then goes and checks the projection table. You and Levi collect the bigger items, setting books back on shelves. 

You don't think about the mistake before it's too late, when Levi is already pulling out the blueprints that were hidden behind the stack of encyclopedias. 

As he stills completely, you turn to look at him and find him staring down at the large, uncurled papers. Your instinct is to snatch them from his hands, but it's no use. He's already seen enough. 

"What the fuck is this?" His voice comes out like poison as he immediately looks at Erwin. 

The larger man glances at Levi, eyes trailing to what he's holding, then pales. 

"Levi..."

"Is this a god damn bunker? Are you planning on staying in this hellscape?" 

Erwin strides over to him and reaches for the prints, but Levi tugs them out of reach. 

"Answer me," he spits. "Is that your plan?"

"I—" Erwin swallows thickly before answering, "Yes."

It's silent for a long time, and the more it drags on, the tighter Levi's lips get, gray eyes shiny with quiet rage. 

This is what Erwin was trying to avoid, why he insisted on keeping the bunker a secret. 

But while Levi is glaring at Erwin, you feel another gaze on you. Skin crawling, you chance a glance up at Mike, stomach churning when he looks away quickly and bites his lips. He knows. Somehow without anyone saying anything, Mike knows you’re planning to stay too.

Heavy breathing and the distant sound of rumbling earth is all that can be heard, followed by backup generators roaring to life and restoring the overhead lights. 

"You too?" Mike finally speaks. “You wanna stay too?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, unable to answer. He sounds so disappointed—defeated—and it makes you feel sick. 

"Do you guys know," Levi growls, "How fucking insane that is? This is the dumbest, most reckless, selfish fucking thing you could do! And, I know it's all your thinking!" He drops the blueprints in favor of shoving Erwin roughly, making him stumble back. 

"Hey," you step toward him, but the small man just turns to you and accuses, "And, you egged him on, yeah? Did you even think of us? How we would feel? Staying here is suicide!"

"I have a plan, Levi," Erwin says, raising both hands to his head and effectively disheveling his own hair. "If you just look at the plans. I know what we need to survive. I've done the math, I've studied the—"

"Jesus Christ, we're talking about an eight hundred degree pyroclastic flow! Tephra that will suffocate you. You really think being a few meters down during the eruption will be enough?" Levi is screaming now, his voice cracking, and you think you see tears at his waterline. 

It makes the spaces behind your eyes burn, but it’s only partly out of guilt. The other emotion that’s welling up in you is anger, a betrayal you can barely wrap your head around, but it comes tumbling out anyway.

“Do you even know us? You think we can actually leave the park behind?” Your voice rises to match Levi’s, gains his acidic attention once again. “I don’t even understand how you can run away, after everything you’ve put into this place! How can you just—” You let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a cry as you raise your hands to your face and shove your palms to your eyes. “I get Mike because he doesn’t have anything fucking left here. He’s just been helping out—”

“You think I don’t have anything left here?” He asks quietly from beside you, and when you look at him with a watery stare, you find him wounded. His jaw slides forward as he sucks on his teeth, and fuck, his eyes are getting glossy too. 

“See, this is exactly what I mean,” Levi gestures wildly at the two of you. “Mike and I have stayed because you guys won’t fucking leave, and now it comes out that you were never planning to. When were you gonna tell us? Would you have even given us enough time to get out?”

“Of course!” Erwin takes him by the shoulders, and Levi snarls up at him. “I was working up to it. I wasn’t ready to—to deal with this.”

“I can’t believe this. You really think a whole team of workers is gonna come out here to help build this? You wanna put their lives in jeopardy too?”

“We—”

“You haven’t even thought this through all the way! When did you come up with this? When you hadn’t slept or eaten in forty-eight hours? When your brain wasn’t fucking functioning at full capacity?”

Erwin stays quiet, and so do you because Levi has a point. Taking care of yourselves physically has not been high on either of your lists of priorities, and you’re sure your mental state has suffered for it. All the nights spent at the projection table, mapping out ideas, growing giddy over the idea of staying for the eruption. Was that just two people high off passion, becoming more and more unhinged with each passing day?

Quite possibly. 

You expect the fury to be enough to push Levi away, that he’ll simply give up, drag Mike out with him, and leave you and Erwin to hunker down like you’d planned.

But, that is not the case. 

Instead, he shoves a thin finger into Erwin’s chest, gritting out, “Pack your fucking bags so we can go to D.C. where they need you.”

Erwin takes a breath then slumps in defeat. Now, when faced with the obstacle that is his boyfriend, you figure he’s weighed the pros and cons and made a decision. Between his love for the park and his love for Levi, he’d rather salvage the latter. 

Mike shifts next to you, grumbles out a low, “You too,” that makes the tears finally fall from your eyes. “I’ll take you on one last ride to the springs, but then we’re leaving.”

He stays true to his word, and you cry the entire time you’re in the chopper, headset smushed against one ear as you rest your head on the window and look down at the Grand Prismatic, the steam rising from it. It’s beginning to grow discolored with all the activity, but it’s more stunning now than it’s ever been. 

Soon, it’ll be completely covered. All of it will. And, you could have been too, stuck underground for a couple of years only to be the first to step out into the pure destruction. 

That’s not an option anymore, though, not with Mike looking as grave as he does, not with the way he shadows you in your apartment as you gather the necessities, like he thinks you’re going to bolt and run back to the lab, not when the two of you meet back up with a still-fuming Levi and a despondent Erwin to head to the airport.

The tickets are outrageously priced at such short notice, but that doesn’t stop Levi and Mike from passing their credit cards over.

“Two for Washington D.C.”

“And, two for Bergen, Norway.”

Boarding passes in hand, the four of you walk through the bustling airport together for as long as you can before you have to inevitably split up. Levi glares at you but still pulls you into a tight hug, grunts into your ear, “You’re so stupid,” before letting go and turning to Mike. “Keep her safe, boy scout. I’m trusting you.”

Mike nods, and both of them clasp hands as you turn to look at Erwin. Tears and pathetic sniffles return when you walk into his open arms, clinging to him and mumbling, “‘M sorry, ‘m sorry. I would’ve followed you.”

“I know.” He rubs your back and heaves a sigh. “I know you would have.”

He eventually disentangles you to hold you at arm’s length, wipes the moisture from your face with his thumbs, then shows a sad smile. “See you in a few years, yes?”

“Yeah.”

One more squeeze, and everyone turns away to walk to their respective gate. Mike’s hand splays across your back, warm, guiding you in the right direction, keeping you steady. He’s always kept your feet planted firmly on the ground. You figure, if there’s one person you’d like to experience the downfall of society with—above ground—it’s him. 

S I X  W E E K S  B E F O R E

Norway is kind of incredible. It has a natural beauty that takes your breath away just like Yellowstone used to, but it’s vastly different. Everything is green, including the lights in the sky at night. You’re surrounded by rolling hills and mountains, and you just know it’ll be beautiful under thick layers of snow. 

The once rustic ranch, now restored, is made up of several small houses and a farm full of cows and goats. It’s sad to think about the fate they will eventually meet (slaughter then stomachs), but you know it’s necessary to prepare for the coming years.

And, the owners have definitely prepared. 

Gelgar and Nanaba are everything Mike described and more. Between taking care of the farm and setting up energy sources, they do their best to make you and the other arrivals feel at home. They’ve designed the ranch to house up to about thirty people, a commune of sorts (minus any cult-like vibes). Naturally, everyone pitches in and helps around the place. You find yourself cleaning a lot, but you don’t mind. It’s a nice, mindless task that keeps you from thinking too hard about everything you’ve left behind. 

You also like to join Nana outside, help with the animals and enjoy the sunshine while you still can. Of course, this subjects you to endless teasing especially today when she catches you staring into the distance at Mike who's helping Gelgar fix a solar panel. 

His shirt is starting to stick to his back from sweating, muscles straining under the damp cloth, and good lord, when did he get that broad? Sure, he's always been tall and fit, but working on the homestead has definitely made him more built. That along with the fact that his hair has gotten long enough to tie up in a bun has your mouth going a little dry. 

"Like what you see?" Nanaba asks, accent thick, voice full of amusement. 

You shoot her a look, face all scrunched up when you mumble, "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh?" She sticks her tongue out. "Don't be coy. I see the way you both look at each other."

"Tch." 

"And, how both of you volunteer to cook with the other when it's your turn to. You move around each other like you know exactly where the other is. Two halves of a whole."

You roll your eyes. "We've just worked together for a while. We make a good team."

She's not wrong, though. Since coming to Norway, you and Mike have grown even closer. There was a period of time when you could hardly look at him, too guilty for trying to stay at the park, guilty for hurting him, but eventually the two of you fell back into your normal dynamic—joking, laughing, touching just a little too much, smiling when you think no one's looking. You even spent an afternoon together in a nearby field of flowers, just like he'd promised. With a picnic basket full of food, and a blanket to lay on, you'd admired the clouds overhead while enjoying the rustling grass surrounding you. 

It's been your favorite day since coming here, had reminded you of the lunches you used to share on the mountain. 

You're not brave enough to make any sort of move, though. Mike is just so good. There's a chance his affections are simply based in friendship, and that's something you're scared to ruin. He means too much to you. 

"How long did you work together?"

"Like, four years, give or take a few months."

"And, you're still acting like nothing is there?" Nanaba tsks. "Ridiculous."

"How long did it take you and Gel to get together?" You ask, then quickly backtrack, "Not that that's what I want with Mike necessarily."

"Mhm," she smirks. "Gel and I did it backwards. Got pissed at a bar and fell into bed together. Then we started to get to know each other and found out we just worked."

Sounds about right, you think. The couple has an interesting back-and-forth, half bickering, half innuendo. You can always, always see the love in their eyes, though. That's what you want in life. That’s what you want with Mike. Even if you won't admit it out loud. 

You turn your gaze back to the roof he and Gelgar are on just in time to see him making his way down the ladder. Once on the ground, he and the other man start striding over to you. Mike's face is red, sweat beading at his hairline, and Gelgar's pompadour is beginning to fall. 

"Think we got it fixed up," Mike announces, lifting the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe his forehead. 

You stare at his toned stomach for just a little too long, the lines of his hip bones leading into the waistband of his jeans. 

Nanaba's words ring in your head again—fell into bed, fell into bed, fell into bed—and you fixate on the idea of you and Mike doing the same. To have him hovering over you, or maybe you over him, thighs on either side of those hips as his hands trail up your body—

You shake the thought from your head, letting your glazed eyes refocus on the men in front of you. 

"Alright, I'm gonna grab a shower before dinner. Who's cooking tonight?"

“I believe it's Lynne and Henning," Nana answers. 

Mike nods then heads toward the little house he's been living in, right next to yours, of course. He reaches out to let his hand brush yours as he passes, and it takes conscious effort not to grip onto one or two of his large fingers and follow him. 

"God, that's painful to watch," Gelgar snorts. 

Nana laughs and agrees, "I was just telling her the same thing."

"Oh, shut up. Ya' couple of meddlers."

*

A line forms every evening outside of the main house, the one Gelgar and Nanaba share. You and Mike stand together at the back, watching everyone in front of you. Some are families, some are couples, some are here alone. You figure, no matter their status, the ranch is a nice place to be—peaceful, home-y despite its size. So far, everyone gets along. 

Only the kids complain about chores, about seven of them constantly running around together, but that’s to be expected, and honestly, you don’t mind picking up their slack. Life is about to get very difficult for them. They should get to be children for a little while longer. 

Potato soup is poured into your bowl with a ladle, topped with shredded beef and green onions, then you and Mike retire back to your little cottage home to eat and watch TV. It stays on the same channel, world news, and there’s always a long segment that covers Yellowstone and what it’s doing. 

It is not uncommon at all to look up from your food and see Erwin or Levi’s face on screen, speaking with experts, sometimes in interview-like settings.

Tonight, they’re covering a problem that’s been going on for some time, but everyone figured would resolve itself: some people will not leave the most dangerous zones, and it’s because they simply do not believe an eruption will take place. 

Even with the evidence, the science backing it—even with actual federal authorities knocking on their doors and telling them to leave—there are many people who just want to stay put. It’s insane to you, makes your blood boil. Children have been taken from their homes to be placed in safer areas, which only causes the disbelievers to get angrier. They want to say “I told you so”, but that’s not going to happen. 

What’s going to happen is getting burned alive in the flow that pours from the volcano. They will die a painful death, get buried under meters of fallout, ash, snow. There’ll be nothing to recover except for petrified, charred corpses. 

Of course, the irony is not lost on you; you and Erwin were both willing to chance similar fates, but you still think the two of you would have been more prepared than these regular-Joes who think their front door is enough to stop a volcanic eruption. 

“In the end, there’s no reasoning with people like this,” Erwin says on camera, a soft, sad smile playing at his lips. “When a person is so, uh… Dead set on staying, it will take an unstoppable force to move them.”

In your case, that unstoppable force had been Levi screaming at you while holding back tears. 

“Unfortunately for them, this force is the eruption, and they won’t be able to leave when that occurs.”

“Because they’ll be dead,” the reporter states more than asks.

Erwin nods and answers with a grim, “Yes. Yes, they will be.”

They’re not trying to be subtle, obviously hoping that this will get through to the stubborn masses, but you doubt it will. They’re living on borrowed time at this point. Any day could be their last.

Mike is quieter than usual as he eats, barely even looking at the television screen, and you have a feeling he’s thinking about how close you were to staying alongside those stupid assholes. It’s still a touchy subject, one both of you do your best to avoid. You’re mostly happy to be in Europe, spending your days with Mike and his friends and everyone else running around here. 

But, there’s also a part of you, deep down inside, that aches, that misses the park, that still wants to be right in the middle of the destruction. Watching it blow from so far away is going to hurt. This massive monster you’ve fallen in love with over the years will never be the same, and your last good look at it was that tearful helicopter ride. 

You’re not resentful toward Mike or Levi for dragging you out of the lab that day, but you are grieving in a sense. 

The program ends with Erwin giving one last warning— “If you insist on staying, I’d advise bomb-proofing your home, stocking up on several years-worth of rations, and installing one hell of a ventilation system. Good luck.”

Mike clears his throat and stands, grabbing his empty bowl as well as yours, then heads into the kitchen to rinse them off. 

Sighing, you follow him, lean against the counter a couple feet away as you think of something to say that won’t sound too forced.

“Hey,” you start.

Mike gives a low, “Hm?” as he holds the dishes under hot water, finally glancing over when you gently nudge him in the side.

“Thanks for…” You take a deep breath, pinned by light green eyes, then try again. “Thanks for bringing me here.” He blinks but doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “It’s really nice. And, I’ve bonded or whatever with Nana.”

“But, you miss the park,” he says.

You shrug. “I mean, yeah. That park was my life, but… Probably dying in it was not one of my brighter ideas.”

He snorts, shuts off the water, then turns to you. Craning your neck, you take in his face—really take it in—the few strands of hair that hang freely past his jawline, the way his beard, no longer stubble but not exactly thick, forms around his mouth and connects with his sideburns, his strong, slightly curved nose, how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. He’s so painfully handsome, especially all shaggy and rugged, and it makes your heart beat too hard and too fast in your chest. 

Mike dries his hands on a dish towel, looking down at them when he tells you, “I’m glad we were able to get you out of there. It’s not something I’ll ever feel bad about. Even if you hate me for it.”

“I don’t hate you,” you scoff. “Never could. You’re my best friend, Mike.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, then think of Nanaba earlier that day and laugh quietly. 

“What?”

You wave a hand, shake your head. “Nothing, nothing, just… Nana has… Ideas, or something.”

There’s no need to elaborate. Mike understands what you’re trying to say. He inhales then breathes out it out in a chuckle as he posts up against the counter next to you. “Yeah, Gelgar does too.”

“Guess they don’t know us very well.”

A silence hangs between the two of you, one that would normally be comfortable but is now a little thick given the subject matter of your conversation.

You and Mike. Just earlier that day you had been thinking about how scared you are to ruin the friendship, but the more you imagine, the more you get lost in the fantasy…

“Or maybe…” You glance over to see Mike nibbling on his bottom lip, eyes fixed on the ground as he continues, “Maybe they know us better than we know ourselves.”

He raises his head, gaze locking with yours, and you stop breathing. Because that stare is so hesitant, searching for something inside of you as if you have the answer, but you’re just as scared and confused as he is. Over four years of friendship—of good, meaningful friendship—is that worth risking just because you’re both curious? 

Or has it all been leading to this since the start? Since those first, short conversations, since the meals shared with one another, the affectionate gestures. Mike has always kept your head on straight, looked after you with even more care than he had with the park’s wildlife. 

You thought it’d all been one-sided pining, that he was just glad to have someone who understood him a little better than everyone else because you do. You understand his passion for the planet, you understand all his little fixations. You appreciate every eccentricity like he appreciates all your neuroses. 

“Maybe so…” 

Two very large hands are on your face, tilting upward, and your lungs begin to burn as Mike strokes just under your eyes with the pads of his thumbs. He has to lean down quite a bit, pauses just over your lips to let out a tiny huff of surprise, disbelief, awe maybe, then closes the rest of the miniscule distance. 

He is very warm and very firm against you—feels good, all the comfort of someone familiar but still so new. Your lips fit together perfectly, and at last, you’re able to breathe again, mouths moving in an experimental back and forth, feeling each other out until he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your lips. Gripping strong shoulders, you let the kiss deepen, opening your mouth for him, and Mike groans when he’s finally able to taste you. 

Hands fall from your face, moving down, down, down, brushing your ribs, settling at your hips, but his fingers are long enough to curl and dig into the meat of your ass, making you gasp and press harder against him.

Rolling his pelvis into yours, you very quickly find yourself pinned between Mike’s body and the counter. Your grasp travels to the back of his neck, pulling him closer—you just need him closer—and he must feel it too because he hoists you up and sets you on the countertop, making room for himself between your legs.

You feel too hot and too desperate, but it’s good, a release that’s needed to happen for far too long. All manner of geothermal metaphors swim through your mind, spurting geysers and boiling mudpots, and it makes you giggle against him, biting down on his bottom lip and smiling around the flesh as he lets out another one of those rumbling, satisfied noises. 

“What’re you laughin’ at?” Mike mumbles, and for some reason, it’s strange to hear his voice so close, so quiet, as you’re pressed together, breathing each other’s air. It’s intimate and different, but it’s right. 

“I’m just…” Another little laugh, “Thinking about the volcano.”

“When are you not thinking about the volcano?” You have a feeling he’s rolling his eyes, but he still grins and kisses you again.

“It’s all dirty things if that helps.”

Mike nods slowly, lips trailing from your mouth toward your neck. “Helps some.”

You tilt your head to give him better access and let out a little whine when you feel him bite down on a patch of skin just beneath the notch of your jaw, wrap your legs around his waist and do your best to rock into him because good god, you want him. 

Fingers tangling under his loosening bun, you tug him back to your mouth, slotting your lips against his and sliding your tongue between his teeth. He presses you closer with a hand on the small of your back, squeezing the air from your lungs so all you can breathe is him. 

“Mm, Mike, Mike,” you pant, barely breaking away only for him to chase after. You laugh, push his chest at the same time you gently tug at his hair, and he backs away just enough for you to get a good look at his half-lidded eyes and spit-slicked lips. 

Honestly, staring at him now, you can’t believe you made so long without ever making a pass at him. He’s gorgeous, built like a roman statue only larger, with sun-kissed skin and a startlingly light gaze that threatens to leave you boneless. 

“D’you wanna, maybe…” You swallow and blink up at him, too many questions suddenly invading your mind—is it too early for sex? Will he think you’re easy? What if it doesn’t actually work out? But, you bite the bullet anyway and finish, “Go to the bedroom?” 

Mike is silent for a few beats, leaving you to second guess yourself and brace for disappointment and embarrassment, but then he clicks his tongue and answers, “Uh, yeah. Yes, let’s do that,” in a voice a little higher than usual, and scoops you from the counter.

Every little house on the ranch is laid out the same, so it does not take him long to find your room. He sets you down at the threshold, and from there, it’s a flurry of discarded clothing and stumbling to the bed.

“How have we never done this before?” He huffs, crawling over you, leaving wet kisses in his wake. 

You’ve still got an arm covering your bare chest, but Mike doesn’t seem self-conscious in the slightest which comes as a surprise considering how reserved he typically is. Not that he has anything worth hiding—not the thin layer of hair that dances over his barrel chest, not the ridiculously cut abdominals or sharp ‘V’ of his hips, and definitely not the thick cock bobbing against his stomach as he moves. You would be intimidated if you didn’t know him as well as you do, but you’re sure that he’ll be gentle with you. Mike may be many things, but careless is not one of them.

He reaches your mouth, kisses you so deeply it makes you dizzy, and as he does, he very slowly pulls your arm from your chest, leaving you vulnerable—free for the taking. 

His touch is soft enough to tickle as he brushes over one of your nipples, making you exhale against him and arch your back like a silent plea for more. He traces around the bud, makes it pebble before carefully rolling it between two fingers.

Warmth spills into your gut, makes you squirm on the bed, and a moan makes its way from your throat as Mike gently tugs at the sensitive flesh. He lowers his head again, lavishing the same kind of attention on your other nipple with his mouth. He nibbles and licks and sucks, and you wriggle and whimper beneath him, one hand trailing down his body until you’re able to close your fingers around the head of his cock. 

Mike grunts, thrusts into your hand a couple times, enough to make precum drool from his tip, but before he can get too carried away, he says just above a whisper, “Let me get you ready,” then moves to lay between your spread legs.

Sliding his arms under your thighs, he locks them into place, and you release a shaky breath, feeling his eyes taking you in for several seconds before licking up your slit once then pushing deeper.

“Oh, fu—”

Both your hands shoot downward, one gripping the messy bun at the back of his head as you shudder at the sensation of his beard against your pussy. You’re wet in seconds, core pulsing as Mike uses his tongue to slowly open you up, then pulls back to flick over your clit. 

“Mike—Mike—”

He hums into you, shaking his head slowly back and forth, no doubt making a mess of his face and you. You don’t have anything to say, just feel your throat tightening like there are unspoken words that need to come out, but you can’t think straight, not when he’s doing what he’s doing, not when you feel the tips of his fingers reaching out to spread your lips. 

He is thorough bordering on methodical, makes sure you’re at the point of full body shakes before he gives you a break, and then, when your breathing returns to a normal rate, he starts all over again. There is a tightness in your gut that builds and builds then dissipates every time he stops, and he must know because when you whine in frustration, Mike just grins and kisses the inside of your thighs. 

The same pattern is repeated with his fingers, just one at first, massaging your walls perfectly, then a second that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. He rubs over the swelling tissue inside of you, seems to enjoy every little gasp and noise you make, including the unsatisfied one you let out when he pulls his fingers from you. 

You can feel how damp the bedspread is underneath you, can see the evidence of your arousal on Mike’s face, and it makes you flush but doesn’t stop you from tugging him down for another messy kiss. 

“You ready?” He asks, sounding just as breathless as you feel, and you nod furiously, bending your knees and planting your feet on the mattress so that you can lift your hips to his. 

Mike chuckles, reaches down between the two of you to take hold of his length and taps your clit with his cockhead a couple times—simultaneously the most infuriating and most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced. Slowly, he lines himself up, just barely pushing forward, and when you bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut, Mike tells you to, “Breathe, baby, open up for me.”

He already sounds wrecked, like he’s fighting the urge to just sheathe himself entirely, but he waits, giving you one inch at a time with periods of adjustment in between. You always sort of figured he was big, but this burning stretch is something you hadn’t imagined even in your lewdest of fantasies. You’re incredibly full, feel him in your gut and throat and everywhere, but it isn’t bad; it’s just a lot. 

“Okay,” you stroke the forearm next to your head and nod. “Okay, you can start moving more.”

Mike’s brow creases. “You’re sure?”

“About as sure as I can be with a monster cock inside m-me—” Your laugh turns to a moan as Mike begins to pull out, eyes trained on your face for any sign of real discomfort, but your mouth just drops open, your own eyebrows raising at the feeling of his length hitting every one of your most sensitive spots. 

“Holy…”

He pushes back in quickly, still mindful of what your body can take, and when all you do is cry his name and scratch down his back, Mike starts up a steady rhythm that has you seeing god. 

That tightness is back, hotter than before, threatening to burn you up entirely as your cunt flutters and spasms and leaks around Mike’s length. 

The sound of a hoarse groan makes you open your eyes, and you follow Mike’s line of vision to where you’re connected, see his cock sliding in and out of you, dripping slick and ringed in white cream toward the base. The sight makes you clench around him, and Mike swears under his breath then leans forward to gather you in his arms. Your head lolls back as he lifts you, sitting on his knees for just a second before falling onto his back and letting you drop onto him. 

You choke, and Mike pants, but his hands are tight at your hips, moving you up and down his length like a sleeve. His pupils are blown wide when you look down at him, hair nearly entirely out of its tie, bottom row of teeth exposed as his jaw slides almost primally. 

He looks completely lost in you, possessed as he fucks up into your pussy rougher than before. You bounce in his lap, whimpering his name with every thrust, growing in volume when you feel a finger press against your clit. 

“You gonna come for me?” Mike grits out, rubbing a circle over the swollen bundle as his eyes flick from your chest to your face. 

You nod, ignoring the burning in your thighs in favor of the sensation between your hips. “Yeah, I—I—Fuck, Mike—”

“Come on, baby, come on—wanted to see this for years, come all over my cock…”

You snap, legs shaking as your climax crashes through you. Your cunt pulses around Mike, coating him in more of your juices and making him groan and fuck you through it. You whine at the stimulation, swollen walls so sensitive yet taking everything he has to give you.

Every thrust to your g-spot makes you gush a little more, come a little longer, until all you can do is fall onto his chest and let him use you as he needs to. You leave marks on his pecs, bites and scratches, and Mike grunts at every one of them until he sits up and flips you once again.

“Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere, I don’t care, I don’t care,” you babble.

Mike inhales sharply then lets out a long groan as he pulls out and shoots his load onto your stomach. It’s warm and thick, some pooling in your belly button as Mike makes a trail down to your clit where he smears the last few drops. You twitch at the contact, hole clenching around nothing now, but you can already feel soreness settling into your muscles. 

Mike gives you two little pecks on the mouth, then one last, longer kiss before rolling to lay on the mattress beside you, chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

This silence doesn’t bother you. It gives you time to come back to your senses, to reflect, to remember everything that was said which leads you to ask, “You meant that—about wanting this for years?”

Mike turns his head and smiles so sincerely it almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“Well, yeah. Been in love with you pretty much since I started at the park.”

He says it so casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and maybe it is, but it still makes your breath catch. 

“Seriously?” You turn to lay on your side, and Mike mimics the action, propping his head up with one hand while he lets the other settle on your waist. 

He lifts an eyebrow and questions, “Is that so hard to believe?” 

“No, I just… Thought it was one-sided on my end, I guess. Like, we were too good of friends.” Mike leans forward to gently headbutt you, and you snort to yourself, “Guess I was wrong.”

“We were both being stupid,” he mumbles. “But, we were also focused on other things, married to the job or whatever.”

Lifting your face makes him lift his, and you smile into another kiss, feeling happier and more balanced than you have in a very long time. 

Without much more discussion, you and Mike get up to rinse off, sharing more soft touches under the spray of the shower before crawling into bed together. Falling asleep feels like coming home.

You don’t even mind the smug grin on Nanaba’s face when she sees you and Mike leave your house together in the morning, nor the teasing jabs Gelgar throws your way over lunch. You don’t know if anything is capable of knocking you out of your perfect, peaceful little world on this perfect, peaceful little homestead.

Except maybe a supereruption, of course. 

E - D A Y 

It happens right in the middle of the morning news. You and Mike are sipping on coffee, expecting the same report you’ve gotten every day— “Nothing yet, closely monitoring, blah blah”—but as the English news anchor tries to introduce the meteorologist, he stops, holds a hand to the speaker in his ear, then looks at the camera with wide yes. 

“I’m—I’m getting news that the Yellowstone supervolcano has just begun to erupt, we’re cutting to the US address at Washington D.C. now—”

And just like that, Levi’s face is suddenly on screen, picking him up mid-sentence. 

“... One vent open at the present time, but more will open shortly. Stay indoors, ration your food. This is what we’ve been preparing for.” He looks tired, and when you do the math, you understand why: seven AM in Norway is one AM in D.C., meaning Levi was probably woken up to make the announcement. 

As always, you can make out Erwin’s figure behind him, hands clasped tight and shaking, and it isn’t until Mike puts a hand on your shoulder that you realize you are trembling right along with your old boss.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” he reassures you. “We’re gonna be okay here.”

You nod and let him pull you closer to him as both of you look back to the screen and listen to what your old colleagues have to say.

The news stays on for the rest of the day. At around ten, the second vent opens up. Then another. Then another. Levi keeps track, expression never betraying the fear he must be feeling, even when he delivers the message that a full ring around the caldera has opened up. 

“Obviously, we can’t get in close enough to look, but we estimate at least two thousand four hundred and fifty cubic kilometers of eruptible magma will pour from the volcano. That’s the size of the eruption from around two million years ago, but it could be worse with the current number of vents…”

The journalists on site, usually so ready to ask questions and challenge Levi, are silent today, and you imagine they’re staring with eyes the size of saucers, not quite believing what they’re hearing because it’s happening. It’s finally happening. 

You eat a quiet, solemn lunch at Nanaba and Gelgar’s, no one knowing what to say. You feel nauseous, stunned, not unlike losing a loved one. You’re able to forget the absolute destruction taking place in the states for a few minutes at a time, but it always comes back to you, punching you in the gut with the same, brute force every time.

The park. The lab. The forests. The towns. Cities, states, homes, lives, all wiped off the map. 

Erwin takes Levi’s place as public speaker close to five, probably to let the other man get some sleep, and reports that the portable seismogram, still linked to the remaining seismographs located around the park, show that there are near continuous earthquakes taking place, “Which could either help should enough earth shift to block the magma chamber, or make things worse by disrupting it further.”

“E is not very good at keeping people’s hopes up,” you mutter, and Mike chuckles.

“Yeah, I see why he makes Levi do all the talking now.”

You both receive texts from the rest of the team, Levi’s coming at an appropriate time but the others reaching you at odd hours of the night when you’re nestled in Mike’s arms.

Neither of you sleep as reality sets in the rest of the way. That was it. The beginning of the end of everything you know. Everything is about to change.

You sniff, try to be as quiet as possible as the tears you’ve been holding back all day finally begin to fall, but Mike knows, feels your body stiffen as you curl into yourself. 

He hugs you close to him but doesn’t say anything, just rests his cheek against yours and holds your hand. 

There’s nothing anyone can say to make this better, no amount of optimism or determination that will make this any easier. Your home is covered in miles of pyroclastic flow, and as it hasn’t stopped yet, you know this is just the start. Soon, anything left alive will be suffocated by the tephra, people, animals, and vegetation alike. Though you won’t die where you are, everyone at the ranch will be feeling the effects soon enough.

Your mother calls from France where her and your dad decided to “vacation” for the next several years. She’s worked up about not being able to get through to you for almost an entire day, and even as you reassure her that you’re mostly fine, she hears the way your voice cracks and offers to fly to Norway.

“Mom, the airports are shut down by now,” you sigh. “We already talked about this. We can’t see each other for a while, but we’ll FaceTime until we can’t anymore.” Until the cell towers are knocked out, you don’t say.

“I just know my baby girl is hurting right now. I know how much you loved—”

“I know,” you cut her off, scared that hearing it from her mouth will just make you lose it again. “I know, but I’m okay here with Mike and everyone else.”

“You’re sure?” She sniffles, sounding a lot like you. “Cause your father and I will find a way to get to you if you need us.”

“I’m sure, Mom,” you tell her with a sad smile she can’t see. “Get some rest, okay?”

You share many calls like that, many ill-timed text messages until the eruption finally comes to an end six days later. The damage it’s done is incalculable—the entirety of the United states now covered in a cloud of ash that blocks out the sun. 

It doesn’t reach you for a few days, but every time you go outside, Mike sniffs the air and mumbles something like, “Smells like sulfur,” or “It’s getting closer”, but after another week, the entire globe is covered. 

1  M O N T H  A F T E R

Everything is an estimation. Everyone knows that a massive amount of magma erupted, but they don’t know how much. Everyone knows that a large number of people have died, but they don’t know how many. There are too many mysteries, and it’s nowhere near safe enough to send search crews out. 

Despite all the warnings, people are still trying to go outside—to see the ash, to review the damage, but even with cloth or medical grade masks, they’re breathing in the dangerous particles floating in the air, tiny minerals that turn to a cement-like substance in their lungs, and because of that, the death count is only rising. 

News reports cut in and out, as do phone calls. Some texts never get sent or received, so all you truly have is your little home and Mike. 

And, you cry, and you mourn, and you miss your friends and family—fuck, you don’t even know how you’ll survive so long without them—but you also revel in the fact that you’re safe. Not everyone can say that. The fact that you had almost willingly stayed in the most dangerous zone of the explosion is laughable now. There’s no way you and Erwin would have survived that, something he agrees with you on when you share a short phone call with him just to check how he and Levi are doing. 

They’ll be staying at the Homeland Security compound for the forseeable future, but he assures you they’re well-prepared to brave the years-long gray storm. 

Without any livestock to take care of, or mouths to feed other than yours and Mike’s, you find yourself with an abundance of free time. You still have power thanks to the solar panels and the couple of windmills set up around the ranch, but you don’t know how long that will last. 

You both read a lot, do puzzles together, fall into bed both out of desire and just because there’s not much better to do.

And, that part of your apocalyptic life is kind of great. Mike is great. He takes care of you both in and out of the bedroom, is gentle with you until you tell him not to be, and then he’s more than happy to succumb to your needs. He’d invested in a frankly absurd amount of condoms before the eruption so he wouldn’t have to worry about pulling out every time, but every once in a while you want him like you had him the first time—desperate and passionate and completely raw. 

That’s the feeling you’re experiencing tonight, staring at Mike from your place on the couch rather than at the book in your hands.

You see him smile before he actually looks at you, but when he does, he has a glint in his eyes you’ve gotten very familiar with over the last month. 

“Need something, baby?”

You bite your lip to keep from grinning too bashfully and glance back down at the open pages on your lap. “Nuh uh.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm,” you nod. 

“Really?” Mike puts down the wildlife magazine he’s perusing and leans closer to you. “’Cause it looks like you might want something.”

You cross your legs, flip a page you haven’t even read, and shake your head. 

It’s a dumb game you’ve both started to play, who can hold out the longest. Of course, the longest record is one you both hold—four years and some odd months—but other than that, you usually make it two or three days at most.

But it’s hard with him walking around looking like he does, and for someone so quiet, Mike is mischievous and handsy, knowing just how to rile you up only to walk away and leave you to whatever you were doing before. He whispers in your ear, he grabs your ass, sometimes he’ll just stand right behind you in the kitchen and inhale, trace his nose up your neck so that you shiver and break out in goosebumps, then mumble a shameless, “You smell nice.”

He’s troublingly good at driving you crazy, and you realize this is why it took you so long to actually get together. You can’t imagine being this wound up and wanton in the lab with everyone there to see. 

“You know,” Mike speaks again. You look at him from the corner of your eyes as he leans back against the cushions and nonchalantly kicks an ankle over his thigh. “A lot of people are dying. Like, thousands. Millions.”

Frowning, you nod. “Uh, yeah. Worldwide disaster taking place.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame,” he adds. His lips twitch upward for a second before he purses them, waiting for another couple seconds then stating, “Should probably start thinking about… Efforts to repopulate.”

Eyes widening, you tilt your head to the side in disbelief, a short, incredulous laugh bubbling from your throat.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, Mike Zacharias!” 

Reaching behind you, you grab a throw pillow and launch it at him. Mike shields himself easily, choking and chuckling as he tries to defend himself, “I’m just—saying! It’s something to keep in mind!”

“Trying to guilt me into sex—” You smack his forearms with the pillow again, “As if I’m not already easy for you—" smack, smack, “—by bringing up all the people dying out there. What is the matter with you?”

He gets a hold of the pillow and rips it from your hands then hugs it to his chest and stares at you with that uncharacteristically devious look. “Is it working?”

You scoff at him, gently kick at his thigh in one last act of defiance before responding, “I mean, kinda.”

And, that’s all he needs to hear before he’s throwing himself at you, pinning you to the couch even as you giggle and squirm, ridding you of the comfortable clothes you have on so that he can kiss and lick every part of you he can reach. He acts like he’s hungry for you, and you have to use all your strength to shove him off of you just so that you can work his pants off and return the favor. 

Mike is all grunts and curses as you work him over with your tongue, a hand on the back of your head heavy but not pressuring. He trembles as you take him deeper, his tip hitting the back of your throat and sliding just a little further. 

It always hurts your jaw, leaves it sore for a full twenty-four hours at least, but the way his jaw drops and his hands ball into fists make it worth it. 

You use one hand to stroke what your mouth can’t reach, the other settling between your own thighs to get you to where you need to be, and only when Mike is panting and you’re dripping slick into your curled palm do you pull off of him.

He helps you into his lap, lets you take your time sliding down his length, because even after as much practice as you’ve had, it hasn’t exactly gotten easier. He’s still massive, and you still have to will yourself to relax around him, but once your muscles have loosened enough, you begin to rock your hips. 

Mike lets you use him like that for a few minutes, knows he’s at the perfect angle to rub over your g-spot, so he just watches and leans forward to place teasing kisses around your open mouth. 

“Feel good, baby?” His voice drips like honey as he grips onto you to aid in your movement. 

Nodding, you dig your nails into his shoulders, then shift to start moving up and down his length. Mike takes it as his cue to take over completely, strong enough to lift and drop you as he pleases, and you both fall into a frenzy of motion, desperate to get off, to get each other off, to share that euphoria. 

“Do you actually want to?” You ask in a daze.

Mike cracks his eyes open to ask, “What?” and slows down enough to give you enough breathing room to speak. “Do I wanna what?”

Making lazy air quotes with your fingers, you mimic his deep voice, “Repopulate,” then elaborate, “Have kids. Do you want that?” 

Everything stops. Your hips still, as do Mike’s, and he stares at you, the lusty haze of his gaze clearing as he processes what you’re asking. 

Feeling completely exposed, you try to rationalize, “I know, I know, we’ve only been doing this for, like, a month, and it’s kind of a terrible time to actually bring new life into the world, but if I’m gonna do it with anyone—”

Mike fists both hands in the hair at the back of your head, pulls you to him to smash your lips together. When he starts bouncing you again, your muffled moan is still loud in the small living room, and Mike’s voice comes out somewhere between desperate and destroyed when he tells you, “Yeah, I want kids. Want you to have my kids.”

“Okay,” you breathe, matching his rhythm, then again, “Okay.”

A switch seems to flip in Mike’s head. You watch and experience him devolve into someone—something—primal. He fucks you like he never has before, long hair hanging in his face, lip caught between his teeth as he groans around it, pistoning into you quick and rough.

“You want it?” He growls, pausing to suck a mark at the swell of your breast. “You want me to come in this pussy?”

Your heart stutters, jaw dropping slightly because Mike isn’t a vulgar man, never has been, but now, the way he’s looking up at you with wild eyes, you know all he needs is the right push, and he’ll lose it completely. 

“Yeah, fuck, want you to fill me up, please,” you whine.

Your world tilts as he tosses you long ways on the couch, sliding back into you with ease and demanding, “Touch yourself.”

You grin slyly, “What, don’t have the focus?”

“Not really,” he admits, flicking sweaty hair from his eyes. 

Two of your fingers find your clit, massaging it the way you always do when you’re desperate for an orgasm. It makes you clamp tighter around Mike, and you tell him again—beg for him— “Please, baby, want you so bad.”

He comes quicker than usual, shooting line after line deep inside of you until it starts dripping out around his cock. 

He can’t stay inside you for long, unable to take the way you keep clenching and twitching from your own ministrations, so Mike pulls out and shimmies down your body so that his face is just above your cunt. At first, he just stares (like always), admiring your swollen folds and how messy you are, but soon he pushes a finger into you, attaching his mouth to your clit shortly after.

It doesn’t take you long. The thought of him fingerfucking his cum further into you paired with the actual sensation of it sends you over the edge within a few minutes, and the two of you are left sweaty and panting, too drunk off each other to really think about the gravity of what you’ve just done but enjoying it all the same. 

The feeling eventually returns to your legs, some of the fog in your brain dissipating as you run your hand through Mike’s hair, and when you find that you can, you voice, “Can we even handle a kid? Or like… Can a kid handle the world as it is?”

“Kids are weirdly resilient,” Mike speaks, face pressed against your stomach so that you can feel the vibrations. “And, maybe there’ll eventually be a race of super babies or something—have enhanced lungs to deal with ash. Darkvision and shit.”

You snort and shake your head. “Dummy.”

He retaliates by blowing a raspberry just above your belly-button, grins lopsidedly when you squeal. 

“But really, our kids’ll be fine. Volcanologist for a mom and an Eagle Scout for a dad? Doesn’t get much better than that.”

“Oh my god, you were actually in Boy Scouts? Does Levi know?”

Mike makes a little ‘pft’ sound and shoots you an unimpressed look. “Of course not. Like, I’d ever let that tiny, tiny man be right about anything.”

Your laugh is so deep and genuine, it makes your whole body shake. Mike raises his head to keep it from bouncing so much, but you can feel him staring for the duration of your giggle fit. Even through squinted, teary eyes, you can see his gaze is full of adoration, and you figure having two parents who love each other as much as the two of you do will at least make the hard life ahead of you a little easier for a child. 

4  Y E A R S  A F T E R

Heavy snow falls outside, adding to the thick layers on the ground and clouding the window you’re staring out of. The carrier is nicely heated, ensuring you and its other two occupants stay toasty as you keep eye out for incoming headlights. 

“Think that’s them,” Mike says, and you swivel to look out his driver’s side window to see two dull beams of light growing brighter and brighter. 

“Don’t know who else it would be,” you joke. “No one else is dumb enough to come back to this place.”

The only sign of your husband raising his eyebrows is the way his hat shifts slightly. “You’re right about that.”

Cinching fur-lined hoods tighter, you both slide out of the tram, boots crunching on ice and snow when you land on the ground. Mike circles to your side, opens the back door, then unbuckles and collects what looks to be a bundle of jackets in his arms. Two light eyes peer out between a beanie and a face mask, gloved hands reaching out and grabbing for you. 

“You want Mama?” Mike coos before passing your son to you.

You settle him on your hip, rub his shielded nose with yours, hoping your body heat will help keep him warm out here.

It’s been winter for… Years, now, the ash from the eruption having behaved exactly as you thought it would, blocking out the sun, and sending the planet hurtling into another ice age. It was something not everyone was prepared for—the intense cold, the food and water shortage, the isolation, but you were lucky. You had everything you needed.

The other snow vehicle stops a ways off, lights left on as two figures jump out, recognizable even when completely covered up. One is nearly as tall as Mike, the other considerably smaller even up close. 

Pulling his mask down, Erwin shows a brilliant smile as he stops in front of you and Mike, and Levi immediately protests— “Oi, cover your mouth, old man! You need it for more than just talking shit.”

Mike laughs, but still reprimands the other man with a pointed, “Levi,” and a nod toward the little boy you’re holding. 

“Fuck—I mean…” Levi takes in a deep breath then apologizes over the whistling wind and falling snow, “Sorry, Huck.”

Bouncing him on your hip, you peer at your son and prompt, “Huckleberry, you remember Levi and Erwin from the computer?” 

Though your team has seen him many times on Zoom and FaceTime, this is first time Huck is meeting any of them in the flesh.

Your son looks between them for a while, quiet as he sizes up both of the men, then he reaches out for Levi the same way he had for you just moments before. Levi makes a dissatisfied noise but still takes him from you, and once Huck is passed off, you shuffle to Erwin and wrap your arms around him, breathing into his chest and warming your face. 

Your boss squeezes you tightly, mutters a low, “I know, I missed you too.”

It isn’t enough to drown out Levi’s sing-song baby voice, and both you and Erwin glance over to find him with his forehead pressed to Huck’s as he teases, “Can’t believe your parents named you after a volcanic eruption. That was pretty dumb, right?”

Mike glides over, places one hand on Huck’s head and the other on Levi’s, then sighs. “Please don’t criticize my wife’s terrible taste in nam—”

“Hey! You agreed to it,” you shout, taking the little boy back from Levi and glaring at both the smiling men. “Better shut up before you give him a complex. He can understand things, you know. He’s three.”

“Huckleberry Pine Zacharias,” Levi scoffs. “I cannot stand you guys.”

“I think it’s a great name,” Erwin interjects, lightly tapping Huck’s nose under his mask. 

“Well, you have shit taste, too.”

“Obviously, if I married a little gremlin like you,” Erwin drawls easily, leaning into the punch that Levi throws into his arm.

“Anyway, we’re here for a reason, right? Other than freezing our asses off?”

“Yeah,” Mike nods, kicking at the snow on the ground like it’ll make a difference. 

All of you know that buried beneath all the white is dried pyroclast, but under that… 

Is what remains of Yellowstone.

“How do we even go about rebuilding?” Mike is the first to ask.

Erwin stares at his own feet, face scrunched up in thought for a while before looking back up and stating, “From the bottom. Everything starts with a good foundation.”

Levi just scoffs, but you and Mike lock eyes and share a hidden grin. 

You take Huck back from Levi, leaning in for a side hug as you do, then suggest to everyone, “Well, then, now that we’ve seen a little of what we’re working with, we should head back to the shelter and start making a plan.”

“Yeah,” Levi agrees. “Gotta start getting ready for the next eruption due in seven hundred thousand years, right?”

“Right.”

After splitting back up into the two separate carriers, Mike follows closely behind the other in order to make it to their newly built bunker without getting lost. It’s perpetually dark from the never ending snow and cloud coverage, hazardous even with the vehicle’s tracks, but you can’t find it in yourself to be scared. Not now, not when life finally feels to be returning to something close to normal. 

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Business Exhibition Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 企展之约, which has not been released in EN 🍒

[ This date was released on 16 July 2021 ]

After a meal on this weekend afternoon, I’m nestled on the sofa, watching a new episode of an anime.

MC: Hahahaha!

Watching the comical antics of the main character on-screen, I can’t help but laugh out loud.

“Whoosh--”

Hearing the rustling of papers from behind, I subconsciously shut my mouth, my line of sight flitting past the sofa and landing on Victor.

He’s sitting at the dining table, a look of concentration on his face while he reads a report. The small dining table is full of documents.

I had initially planned to watch movies with Victor at my place today. I didn’t expect him to be so bogged down with work lately, and unable to relax over the weekend.

MC: Victor, am I disturbing you? Why don’t you use the study room or my bedroom instead?

Without lifting his head, he props up the spectacles on the bridge of his nose.

Victor: Who was the one who wanted to “stick” together with me over the weekend?

MC: ...that’s true, but you’re focusing on work now.

He has no intention of continuing the conversation. Rubbing my nose guiltily, I head into the kitchen quietly. After cutting some fruits, I bring them over to the dining table.

MC: In that case, I’ll apologise to CEO Victor~

Sticking a toothpick into an apple slice, I bring it to him. He tilts his head up slightly, taking a bite from the apple in my hand.

From my peripheral vision, I spot an invitation card with the words “Elementary and Middle School Students” on it. Curious, I take a closer look.

MC: “Corporate Culture Exhibition for Elementary and Middle School Students”? Is LFG participating in the Corporate Culture Exhibition?

Victor: We received the invitation and haven’t decided if we’re participating.

MC: I see... I’ve never heard of this exhibition.

Victor: The government organised it this year. 

Victor: The officials said that it’s meant to introduce elementary and middle school students to outstanding occupations and various career paths to help them establish their aspirations.

MC: This exhibition seems pretty meaningful. It’s beneficial to LFG’s business image too.

MC: Come to think of it, I wonder if little kids have an understanding of LFG, and what kind of impression they have of LFG?

MC: Oh yes! There was a news report on elementary and middle schoolers going on company tours. Does LFG want to organise a similar activity?

Ideas come one after another in my mind. I rattle on about my opinions, but Victor doesn’t express anything.

When I start making an inventory of the company tour for students, the pen in his hand pauses, and he lifts his eyes slowly.

Victor: I can consider the exhibition, but not the company tour.

MC: Why not?

His deep eyes sweep over the anime on the television screen before landing on me.

Victor: There’s already one very noisy kid in LFG.

-

In the end, Victor accepts the invitation to the Corporate Culture Exhibition. The exhibition commences as scheduled.

Out of interest, I offer my services to Victor. I become a volunteer responsible for decorations at the venue.

Seeing the detailed and vivid posters introducing various occupations  in the exhibition hall, the LFG employees next to me are slightly awed.

LFG Employee A: It’s really nice that we have the chance to understand different occupations. When I was young, I thought there were only astronauts and scientists in the world.

LFG Employee B: Even if you only knew of those careers when you were young and decided on an aspiration, it might not become reality when you grow up. I wanted to be a dancer, but I’m doing something completely unrelated to the arts now.

LFG Employee A: That’s true. If it weren’t for the excellent pay in LFG, I’d probably be at my old home opening a second-hand bookshop and retiring early. Oh yes, MC, what did you want to do when you were young?

Getting pointed out suddenly while engrossed in their discussion causes me to be stunned momentarily.

MC: When I was young...

I blink, recalling somewhat faraway memories. Before I can ponder deeply, my phone rings - it’s a call from Victor.

Victor: Come to the café near the entrance of the exhibition hall.

MC: Now? What for?

Victor: ...what else can you do in a café? Play golf, amend proposals, go horse riding, drink coffee - which one do you think is the most suitable?

MC: ...to be honest, I can’t decide between the two options of “amend proposals” and “drink coffee”.

Victor: I ordered a custard cake. If you don’t come over, I’ll take it that you’re not interested.

MC: I’ll be there immediately!

After notifying those LFG employees, I turn around and head towards the café.

MC: Is this really okay? The others are still busy.

Victor: When did you have such a high sense of awareness? Who was the person who painstakingly learnt “Slacking Hacks” on the internet a few days ago?

MC: I was reading that for fun... I wasn’t planning to put it into practice.

Lifting my phone as I squeeze into the packed café, I notice that most of the people here are parents who are preparing to accompany their kids to the exhibition.

Victor: There’s still an hour till the exhibition begins. I’ve already told Goldman to inform everyone to take a break. In short, there’s no need to feel guilty, because...

Taking two steps into the café, I spot Victor at a glance as he sits at a table near the window calmly.

Seeing that I’m walking towards him, he puts down his phone gently, lifting his head to meet my eyes.

Victor: Aside from you, there’s another person who’s “slacking”.

Taken aback for a moment, I quickly react to the meaning in his words. My brows arch upwards as I take a seat.

MC: I didn’t expect to ever “slack” together with CEO Victor.

Elated, I pick up a fork and try a bite of the dessert in front of me. The custard melts in my mouth instantly, and it’s sweet and smooth.

MC: Delicious! As expected of CEO Victor’s pick~

Victor: Even delicious food can’t stop you from being talkative.

Right after saying this, he seems to stare at me fixedly, his expression slightly strange.

Just as I’m about to ask why he’s looking at me that way, he lifts up his coffee, his lowered eyelashes covering the smile in his eyes.

...am I overthinking things? Why do I feel as if he’s making a joke out of me?

Feeling puzzled, I notice a pen and a post-it booklet at the edge of the table.

MC: This is...?

A staff who is passing by takes a step forward, smiling as he explains.

Staff: This is a small event by our shop. You can write your hopes or suggestions for the children, then hang it on the “Hope Tree” near the door of the shop.

Struck with an idea, I pick up the pen and a post-it note.

MC: Victor, shall we write a few suggestions for the children too?

I tear a post-it note and give it to him. After staring at me in silence for a while, he suddenly reaches out his hand.

Victor: Give me one more.

MC: ?

MC: Does CEO Victor want to write a mini essay?

Ignoring my joke, he writes a sentence on each of the two post-it notes. He hands one to the staff, and stuffs the other one to me.

Bewildered, I sweep a glance at the post-it note given to the staff. The words “You only have one life” are written on it.

Lowering my head, I stare at the post-it note in my own hand. In an instant, I realise why he displayed such a strange smile earlier. There’s a short sentence written on the post-it note:

“Dummy, there’s custard on your cheek.”

??: Hello, could I trouble the two of you to help me with something?

My face reddens. After wiping the custard off my cheek with a tissue, I hear an unfamiliar female voice next to me.

Turning towards the sound, I see a lady standing beside me with two small boys.

Woman: I need to use the washroom, but bringing two boys with me isn’t really convenient. Could I trouble the both of you to take care of them for a while?

I ask for Victor’s opinion with my gaze, and he responds with a slight nod. Understanding this, I nod at the mother.

MC: Of course we can.

While thanking us, she gets the two children to sit at both ends of the table before hurrying off.

The table now comprises of the four of us - two adults and two children. The air gets filled with an inexplicable, thick awkwardness.

Victor looks at me. I look at the kids. The kids look at Victor... Clearing my throat, I decide to break this strange atmosphere.

MC: Kids, how old are the both of you?

Kid A: Mommy said that we can’t give personal information to strangers!

MC: ...

I didn’t expect to be given the cold shoulder the moment I opened my mouth. I release an embarrassed laugh.

MC: Personal information... You can use such advanced terms. You’re so smart haha.

A soft and low chuckle drifts to my ears. I glance at Victor as he picks up his coffee with a blank expression, staying uninvolved in the matter.

The other boy suddenly widens his eyes and leans towards me, pointing at my volunteer name tag and reading it aloud.

Kid B: L! F! G! Do you two work in LFG?

MC: Well...

I ponder over this. LFG is the investor of my company, and Victor is the CEO of LFG. So...

MC: I guess so.

Kid B: In that case, what are the two of you doing here? Did you sneak away?

MC: ...

Although these are unintentional words from a child, I avert my eyes guiltily. At this point, the kid who behaves like an adult speaks loudly.

Kid A: That’s impossible! Mommy said that everyone who works at LFG are really incredible people! They won’t sneak away!

Victor: Cough...

Victor pauses his sampling of the coffee. As though he choked on something, he clears his throat.

Kid B: Really?

The kid blinks his eyes as he waits for our response.

Victor’s expression is a little unnatural. He picks up a newspaper from a rack near the window, immersing himself in it.

Seeing him like this, he probably recalled the earlier conversation we had on “slacking” as well.

It’s rare to see Victor being choked up by someone. A little demon with horns suddenly appears in my heart.

I can’t help but laugh inwardly while turning to the kids.

MC: You’re correct. The employees from LFG never sneak away. We were talking about work-

MC: Right, Vic?

[Note] In CN, MC calls Victor “小李” (“xiao li”, which translates directly to Little Li).

Saying this, I wink at the person opposite me.

Victor arches his brows, astonishment in his eyes. Without waiting for him to speak, I immediately do a “stop” gesture with my hands.

MC: The previous proposal for the show is too conservative. There aren’t any highlights, and it isn’t clear who the target audience is. It might be a waste to show it during prime time.

Adjusting my posture, I clasp my fingers on the table, mimicking VIctor’s tone and expression.

MC: When will you be submitting the new proposal? Tomorrow is the deadline.

Kid A and B: Wow...

Awed gasps from the kids drift to my ears. I straighten up with pride, tilting my chin towards Victor.

He stares at me with a calm gaze, his eyes gradually illuminated with an unreadable, dense light.

He lowers the newspaper slightly, blowing the coffee in his hand gently and unhurriedly.

Victor: Are you sure these are the only problems, Miss CEO? 

Victor: I've also “reflected” much on that proposal, and there are some problems I haven’t had the chance to tell you about. 

Victor: Since you brought it up, I have no choice but to do a “self-reflection” here.

Victor’s tone is composed, and there isn’t a ripple in his expression. As compared to my pretentious posture, he’s laid-back and natural.

Victor: The theme of the show is too general and lacks a segment which stirs the audience. 

Victor: The structure also has the shadow of previous shows. A change in form but not substance - it’s a little unoriginal. 

Victor: A scandal broke out yesterday involving one of the guests for the show. A replacement guest has not been decided upon.

Victor: Also...

MC: Stop! I... I get it!

He leans against the back of the chair, a teasing glint in the depths of his eyes.

Victor: When will you be submitting the new proposal? Tomorrow is the deadline.

MC Tonight, tonight! I’ll definitely submit it tonight!

I reply instantly, my voice carrying with it some alarm. The corners of his lips hook upwards, and he retracts his “overbearing” aura.

Victor: I’ll wait and see.

I heave a sigh of relief, then feel a dryness in my mouth. Lowering my head to take a sip of coffee, I see the disappointed gazes of the two kids.

My cheeks flush. Just as I’m about to say something to salvage some pride, their mother returns, thanking us while taking them away.

I glare at Victor indignantly. He chuckles softly, then clasps his fingers together on the table just like I did earlier.

Victor: I look forward to your next “challenge”.

-

After the exhibition ends, Victor and I leave work early.

The weather is really nice today. We pick a restaurant nearby, planning to head there on foot.

Dusk hangs low, and a misty pink evening mist smudges the sky.

Perhaps due to how smoothly the exhibition went, little emotions surface in my heart. 

Beneath this beautiful sky, how many young aspirations and lives took flight earlier?

Victor: Why are you just standing there in a silly daze? Aren’t you hungry?

Retracting my thoughts, I see that Victor has stopped in front of me, his body turned to the side as he looks at me.

I hurriedly catch up to him, pulling on his arm.

MC: Victor, why did you write “You only have one life” on the post-it note today?

Victor: It’s true that you only have one life. Even an elementary student knows this principle.

MC: ...that’s not what I meant. I’m asking about what’s implied in it. For instance, are you asking the kids to seize the day and work their hardest?

His gaze lands on me. Seeing how serious I look, he slows down his pace slightly.

Victor: If you were to meet your childhood self, would you tell her to work her hardest?

MC: Mm... it’s difficult to say. I might tell her what to do in order for the current me to be even happier?

Victor: And that the reason why you can’t use an overly objective and rational principle to teach others. 

Victor: It’s a desirable trait to work their hardest so that there won't be any excuses to stop in their footsteps. 

Victor: But this doesn’t mean that everyone must have the goal of working their hardest.

Victor: After all, every person expects different things from themselves. 

Victor: Not everyone wants to stand at the peak. 

Victor: As compared to looking down from a mountaintop, there are some people who wish to happily and simply appreciate the scenery along the way. 

Victor: This might sound simple, but being an ordinary person isn’t easy.

Victor: “You only have one life” - this phrase has many meanings in different contexts.

I’m stunned for a moment. I initially thought that Victor’s words were meant to be a motivational quote, and didn’t expect for him to have such thoughts.

Even when he’s faced with young children, he doesn’t wish to give a fixed answer on the basis that he’s a mature adult.

My lips curl upwards, and I can’t help but stick a little closer to him.

MC: You’re right. After all, aside from people who stand at the peak, there are even more ordinary people.

MC: Ordinary people have one life too. They need to cherish it properly, and do what they want to do.

MC: CEO Victor, I’ve learnt something from you!

Clasping my hands together, I bow in mock seriousness. An almost indiscernible smile lifts the corners of his lips.

MC: Come to think of it, I had so many aspirations when I was young. Lawyer, teacher, police officer, judge... I didn’t expect to become a producer in the end. Perhaps in a parallel universe, there’s a me who became a lawyer, teacher or judge!

The scene from the café flashes across my mind, and I burst into laughter.

MC: I might even be a CEO! What do you think?

After I say this, Victor turns his head and gives me an amused glance.

Victor: I think you do behave like a CEO.

MC: It’s because I’ve been influenced after spending such a long time by your side~ Returning to the topic - what was your aspiration when you were young? To become a powerful business tycoon?

Victor: ...have you ever heard of a child having such a pragmatic dream?

MC: In that case, tell me about it?

He doesn’t respond, and simply keeps his eyes faced front. No matter how much I probe, he doesn’t speak.

The sweet fragrance of desserts wafts into my nose. Following the scent and turning to the bakery near the roadside, I’m struck with an idea.

Since I can’t crack this difficult question in a straightforward manner, I decide to adopt the process of elimination.

MC: A baker?

Victor: ...

A signboard with the words “Watchmaker Shop” enters my vision, and I immediately look at him.

MC: A watchmaker?

MC: The boss of a lottery shop?

MC: ...director of a zoo?

Throughout the journey, I rack my brain and ask him about all sorts of occupations. However, it’s clear that none of them are correct.

Finally, we stop in front of a crosswalk, waiting for the red light.

Looks like I won’t be able to get any answers from him today. Disappointed, I let go of Victor’s arm, releasing a soft “hmph”.

MC: Aren’t you curious if there was a choice and you weren’t the CEO of LFG, and if I weren’t a producer...

MC: What would our identities be? Would we meet? And what kind of a relationship would we have?

The red man at the other end of the road suddenly turns green, signalling for us to move forward.

My hand, which had drooped to the side, is lifted up gently by someone. His broad palm conveys a comforting temperature.

Victor: There’s nothing to be curious about.

The crowd flows past in an endless stream on the crosswalk. Their footsteps are hurried, and the tips of their feet point in different directions.

I look at the person beside me. His gaze is resolute as he holds my hand, taking large strides towards the restless crowd.

He seems to sense my gaze. Lowering his head slightly, the light in his eyes is deep and scorching.

Victor: The life that I want to choose most is already in my hand.

-

[ MOMENTS ]

Victor's Post: Turns out someone could still go to work normally after staying up to watch anime last night.

MC: Could we cancel tonight’s reservation at the restaurant? I really want to go straight home to sleep...

Victor: Eating is a necessity. The location will be changed to your home.

-

Victor's Post: Turns out someone could still go to work normally after staying up to watch anime last night.

MC: As long as I’m hardworking enough, nothing’s impossible!

Victor: Working hard to make yourself even more stupid?

-

Victor's Post: Turns out someone could still go to work normally after staying up to watch anime last night.

MC: I solemnly vow not to do such things again.

Victor: This vow better count before you start on the next anime.

🍰 Call: here

[hopeless-ro-simptic]

Familiar Cerulean Eyes- Part 7

Click here for other parts! Part 8 is up. 

Warnings: Mention of attempted rape, some fighting and the aftermath. This whole part is Dabi’s point of view of the last chapter and then also the direct aftermath. Also Shoto finds out Dabi has Y/N. 

Word Count: 2.7 K 

TAGLIST: @skzero-99​ @superblyspeedydragon​ @jparra4587​ @flyingowls​ @emrysaaryn​ @imuziawi​ @sheedaabee​ @peculiarinsomniac​ @littlelovebug98​ @plutoneu​ @giftofwonder​ @kitty-kat-ash​ @fukyouthink​ @anarchys-bnha-mess​ @threbony​ @orenjineki​ @toobsessedsstuff​ @bamf-barnes​ @x-a-delama-x​ @inanabsentia​ @reallyshey​ @godsblesstheboi​ @operatorsdime @drownedbytears​ @emilymikado​ @fluidfandoms​ @gotagan @mikasackrmann​

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The last thing that Dabi wanted to deal with right now was this stupid mission, but he knew that the faster he got this done, the faster he could get back to you. Not to mention it was important, at least according to Shigaraki.

Dabi had finished everything but his last task, the one that he needed Kurogiri for. After staking out this hideout for two days, they finally were ready to move in and get the supplies and get rid of the annoying competition. It was a smaller faction of villains, if you could even call them that. Low level thugs really. Shigaraki had given Dabi the orders of disposing of anyone who didn’t want to join the cause and to take the supplies they had been looting. It was a simple mission. The only problem was that this particular location wasn’t exactly hidden in the ghetto’s of Japan. This group had set up shop using a soba shop as a cover. A restaurant that was a little too out in the open for Dabi’s liking.

It was late, almost closing time, no one was out in the street except one or two stragglers leaving work for the night. Kurogiri had stayed with Dabi, ready to move in, for the last hour and a half. Both of them watching from the shadows to make sure the coast was clear. With a swift nod from Dabi, they both moved in.

It had taken only a couple minutes, Kurogiri warping the supplies out first, allowing for Dabi to wreck havoc on the members of the opposing group with his fire, Kurogiri returning quickly to help finish everyone off.

They only had one person left, a sobbing mess of an omega who was desperately begging for his life, chirping wildly.

“Can’t we just kill him? He’s making so much noise.” Dabi was over this. He just wanted to get out of here.

“No Dabi,” Kurogiri sighed, exasperated by the annoyed alpha. All he had done was complain the entire time. Kurogiri wanted this mission done with as soon as possible so that the hormonal alpha could just go back to his omega and calm down. “They could have information as to where the rest of the group is hiding, this wasn’t everyone judging by your reports.”

“Fine, then let’s get them out of here before every alpha in a five mile radius shows up to save the day.” Dabi rolled his eyes, turning to Kurogiri only to be shoved out of the way just in time to avoid being trapped in ice, a grumpy looking half and half brat glaring at the trio from 30 ft away.

“Hero’s are on the way, I would suggest giving u-“ The two toned eyes went wide, sniffing the air a growl releasing from his throat. “Why do you smell like her..”

Dabi could feel a smirk forming on his face. Hero’s were on the way huh? He better make this quick.  

“Kurogiri, get the omega out of here. I’ve got this one.”

“As you wish.”

Once the two alpha’s were alone, they started to circle each other. Dabi had wondered how long it would take for your precious little alpha to finally show up. He was shocked it had taken the brat this long to track him down.

“Where’s daddy at little kid? I don’t think you should be out this late on a school night”

Ice narrowly grazed dabi’s cheek, he was faster than the little twirp, he had more experience, it didn’t change the fact that the youngest Todoroki had a stronger quirk.

But Dabi’s fire burned hotter, and he knew just how to get under his littlest brother’s skin.

“You know, for the son of such a strong and prominent alpha, you really don’t know how to protect what’s yours.”

Ice shot forward on Dabi’s other side, caging him in place, slicing his leg open, a thin line of blood seeping out. Dabi barely felt it.

“Come on baby Todoroki, you didn’t think you could just leave such a pretty omega to fend for herself and no one would snatch her up, did you? You barely even scented her, Did you even want her?”

“Shut up!” The younger alpha growled, steam coming off of his body as he fought to keep the fiery temper at bay. He needed to trap the villain. To get him to talk. To get him to tell him where you were. He felt like such an idiot, thinking you had run off on your own, finally escaping his horrible father. He had hoped you had used to market as a distraction, running off to start a new life somewhere where no one knew you belonged to the Todoroki family, where you could finally make your own decisions. Instead he had let his guard down, and you had been caught by the league of villains of all people. He couldn’t even imagine how awful they had been treating you this entire time. He wasn’t even sure you were alive. He couldn’t think about that right now, couldn’t let himself consider that option.

“Where is she!”

“Probably warming my bed, waiting for me to come home and show her what a real alpha is like.”

Shoto unleased the flames, melting the ice around him as he lashed out at Dabi, a snarl ripping through his throat. Dabi easily dogged, taunting him as his own flames manifested as well, easily over taking Shoto’s as he fought his way closer to the younger alpha.

They finally were right on top of each other, both of the alpha’s throwing their fists into the other, using their quirks to their advantage. Shoto wasn’t used to this close of range of fighting, not the way that Dabi was. Still he managed to hit Dabi in his jaw, using ice to harden his fist. The impact split apart the skin on Dabi’s lip, bruising his already purple toned skin immediately. Dabi had a feeling he was going to look rough after this. Still he pressed on, gripping the young Todoroki in a headlock, briefly reminiscing on a time where he had done this exact move on the younger boy in a playfight as kids. Shoto attempted to use his right side to freeze Dabi in place, but Dabi’s fire was burning too hot and it was all Shoto could do to regulate his own temperature as not to get burned. The ice was just melting too quickly.

Dabi pressed a little harder on the younger male’s throat, just wanting to cut off his air supply enough that he would black out. He didn’t want to kill his little brother, but he couldn’t just walk away either. His alpha was antagonizing him, enticing him to show the other alpha just who was stronger.

“She’s mine now, little Shoto.”

Kurogiri warped back in front of the two alpha’s, ready to warp Dabi out of there.

Shoto’s vision was just starting to go dark when the sound of a radio chirped, screaming sobs slicing through the air, hushing everyone. You sounded completely and utterly terrified. Broken. Shoto expected you to be calling out for him, to beg him to come and save you, but his name wasn’t the one you were calling out for.

Dabi dropped Shoto faster than he had ever moved in his life, lunging for Kurogiri, grabbing him by the shirt snarling in his face.

“Take me to her, NOW.”

Shoto barely got a breath into his lungs, forcing himself to his feet, running at full speed towards the warp desperately trying to get to you. He was too slow, the two villains disappearing into the night like they were never there. Leaving Shoto bruised and a little bit charred, a broken howl leaving his lips.

He was going to find you, and he was going to save you. Like the hero you deserved.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dabi was warped into the room to find you caged down underneath Compress, his dick out, ready to push into you, his alpha’s fangs pressing just above your empty bond mark ready to bite down. Compress didn’t even have time to react, Dabi immediately setting the entire room up in bright blue flames, the most vicious of snarls leaving his lips as he gripped him by the shirt yanking him off of you and shoving him against the wall.

Compress was screaming, the fire licking against his skin, as Dabi held him by the throat, squeezing the life out of him, slamming his head repeatedly against the wall. Kurogiri stepped in as quickly as he could, barely separating the alpha’s causing Dabi to lunge at him as well, only for Kurogiri to warp himself and Compress out of the room.

It took Dabi several tries to get the fire to go out, the adrenaline in his veins forcing his alpha on edge making him loose control of his quirk. One look at your battered and half naked form, zooned out like you were on drugs had him loosing it all over again as he let out a string of curses. It was only when he saw the edge of the fur blanket that was peeking out from where you had drug it under your form while searching for the walkie-talkie was on fire did he finally get a control on his temper, smothering the fire. He’d have to get you a new blanket. Hell he would have to get you a whole mansion filled with blankets to even come close to making this up to you, and he would, he would do anything.

He dropped down to your side, petting your hair back from your face his hand shaking, watching as tears streamed down your blank expression. Your hair was matted with blood, and it seemed like the wound wasn’t stopping. He needed to get you medical attention. He knew in cases like this he needed to keep you awake. You probably had a concussion.

He lifted you in his arms slowly, careful to keep from jolting you too much as he spoke down to you, desperately wishing for a response.

“Y/N? Can you hear me? Come on baby talk to me.”

You were still breathing, though it was shallow. It took a couple seconds but you eyes fluttered and you looked at him, the most dazzed expression on your face, your voice barely a whisper.

“Touya? … I had the weirdest dream..”

“Y/N hang on, stay awake for me princess, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He brushed away the tears on your face, glaring up at the camera shouting for Kurogiri to get his ass in here before turning back to you.

“You had died…. And I got kidnapped…. And then…” You’re voice broke, and your eyes fluttered shut again. He had to keep you awake.

“Touya it was a nightmare.”

“No, no no no, Don’t go to sleep yet, princess come on wake up.” He wasn’t sure if you could hear him anymore.

“Kurogiri!”

You let out the smallest of whimper’s. He knew you were in pain, he couldn’t do anything about it right now though. He didn’t have the key to get out of this room. If Kurogiri didn’t hurry the fuck up he was going to kill him.

“Touya...please don’t leave me.”

“Never, princess, never again. I promise. Please just stay awake a little longer. Please.”

Finally, Kurogiri warped back into the room whisking the two off you out of there and straight to Dabi’s room at the compound, your slack body being carefully lowered onto the bed, covering your half naked body with the remainder of the singed fur blanket. The two males immediately getting to work on wrapping your head and treating your wounds with the medical supplies they had. Dabi knew it would probably be best if you went to a hospital, but there wasn’t any way to get you over to one.

He pulled his phone out, sending a quick text to the only healer he knew that might work with them. They weren’t reliable, and often charged ridiculous prices, but he didn’t care. They were the best chance he had right now.

You had grown unresponsive and he was stressed out. The alpha inside half begging him to fix the situation, half demanding he go find Compress and finish the job. Still he stayed by your side, watching your even breathing, checking every couple minutes to make sure your pulse was still strong.

After about ten minutes his phone went off, the healer advising of her location so Kurogiri could warp her here. As soon as she arrived the hot headed omega let out a string of curses in her native tongue of russian, getting up in Dabi’s face angrily.

“How could you let your omega get hurt like this you dumb oaf.” She turned away from him, turning her attention to the passed out omega in the room. The blonde haired Russian eye’s immediately softened as she looked at the beat up omega. Her hands reaching out soothing the hair on the your head, before she carefully rolled you over, unbandaging the gash, placing her hand above it, staples shooting out and closing the wound. She quickly and expertly wrapped your head back up before moving the blanket and peeking under it, eyes turning to Dabi with rage.

“What were you doing that got her hurt?” Another string of curses left her lips and Dabi held his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t do this, Anna! I came back and fucking Compress was trying to force her into a bond! Fucker is lucky he is alive right now!”

This placated the Russian slightly, instead of ripping Dabi’s head off she shoed him to turn around, along with Kurogiri while she pulled back the blanket, searching your body for any other issues. When she pulled your shirt up a soft gasp left her lips causing Dabi to turn and look. Your stomach was bruised purple. He had hit you with something. Dabi guessed his cane. The sight of it made Dabi’s temper rise up all over again, the room getting hot.

Finishing up the Russian turned back to Dabi after covering you again, a frown on her face as she looked at the alpha.

“She’s not bonded? I thought you said she was yours?”

Dabi looked sheepish for once, scratching his head as he looked down at you.

“Not yet…Is she going to be okay?”

“She will be fine… probably confused out of her mind when she wakes up. She might have a little bit of memory loss, but if what you say is true.. I don’t think that will be a bad thing. The staples should do their job and help speed up the healing and numb the pain.. let’s get you patched up too while I’m here.”

“Don’t worry about it, Anna. I just want help for her.”

“Well I’m not leaving until she wakes up. So sit down and shut up while I patch you.”

Dabi sighed nodding at Kurogiri that it was okay to leave the room. Sitting down on the edge of his bed carefully, stripping himself of his shirt and rolling up his pant’s leg to show off what cuts and bruises he had obtained in his earlier fight. None of them were bad enough to need the use of her quirk, but she still used her medical kit to patch him up just the same before moving on to check on the already existing staples on his body.

“She’s pretty… are you sure she’s here willingly? I don’t know what omega would want to be with you.” Dabi could hear the teasing in her voice and ignored the question. He didn’t want to explain himself to the other omega.

After she finally finished checking everything she gave him back his shirt, taking a seat across the room in one of the two chairs that Kurogiri had brought in for them, pulling out her phone and responding to a message which Dabi assumed by the smirk on her face that it was from her Alpha.

Dabi watched your sleeping form for a couple minutes, just wanting to pull you tight in his arms, but he didn’t want to hurt you on accident, so instead he just sat in the other chair, pulling it close to the bed, leaning his head down on the blanket gripping your hand lightly rubbing your knuckles between his fingers. He wouldn’t leave your side, not again, not with you like this.

[thelowlysatsuma]

alright dipsticks, hear me out

taz balance au where everything is the same except that lucretia and barry have each others’ farspeech frequencies

it all starts about a year after lucretia voidfishes the plane. she’s poking around goldcliff, hoping to find some way to con some rich shit into paying for her gigantic moon base, when she runs — literally runs headfirst — into some bespectacled nerd in denim

barry, for his part, doesn’t know why this complete stranger is offering to buy him lunch as an apology for spilling his Fantasy Starbucks all over his oldass shirt, but he sure as shit isn’t complaining. especially when something, something about this kid feels so... familiar

in a spur of the moment decision, lucretia gives him her farspeech number. barry doesn’t think anything of it at the time

...anything, that is, until he’s rising, spectral and flickering, over his battered corpse, and he begins laughing hysterically, tears glimmering in long-gone eye sockets. he may not have lup back, but he’s got his little sister.

so they start texting. is barry furious at lucretia for what she’s done? sure, a bit. but he understands her logic, and his temper is soothed when she point-blank tells him that she’s going to help him find lup. they may be working against each other as far as the relics are concerned, but if lucretia can locate at least one more shred of her former family, then by god is she going to. barry understands, he thinks, and so they help keep each other a little less lonely over a long ten years

lucretia keeps barry updated on how the other birds are doing, as best she can. they rejoice together as magnus and julia take back raven’s roost, and when glamour springs is shadowed by a mass poisoning barry has to do everything up to physically restraining lucretia from beating the ass of whichever motherfucker did that to taako. wait, he tells her. physical pain is temporary. a lich, on the other hand, is in a prime position to make some douche’s life a living hell. lucretia grins and offers to fund his plots in any way she can.

barry, for his part, keeps lucretia up-to-date on the search for lup. they have matching little cork boards in their respective offices, each filled with maps and theories and half-baked what-ifs. they aren’t any closer to finding out what happened to her, but they will. they have to.

speaking of things happening, barry is the first one to find lucretia after wonderland. he hadn’t been able to reach her for a month, and so when he feels the enormous surge of pure magical despair explode outwards from the felicity wilds, he transports himself there as quickly as he can. he finds his baby sister at the centre of a mile-wide crater, twenty years older and countless sacrifices poorer, and he holds her as gently as he can without physical hands, and makes her promise to never deal with wonderland again. fuck, he’ll get the animus bell for her, he doesn’t care. he just can’t see lucretia in that state ever again. (never again, that’s what they told themselves, in a group huddle late one night the dawn of cycle 66. he’d failed her once. he couldn’t do it again.)

as she builds up the bureau, lucretia starts getting questions about her best friend on the stone. lucas asks her point blank who it is one day early in their acquaintance, and she answers “b- uh, b-j” “that tells me basically nothing. what does that even stand for?” lucas demands. “uh,” lucretia says, “🅱️amazing jrace”

thus begins a fine tradition of bureau employees trying to get any info they can on the mysterious “bj”, including his actual name. so far some of the top answers they’ve gotten from madame director include “bitchin jackass” “burger joint” “beetlejuice” and “banjo jimboree”. once, robbie asks her if he’s her secret lover, and lucretia has to summon a bucket before retching in disgust, which puts paid to that particular theory fairly succinctly

barry, for his part, adores these rumours. he keeps asking if lucretia will lift the lich barrier, just for a day, so he can come and stir up even more shit. lucretia, while admittedly very tempted, denies.

when he finds out that lucretia has been telling bureau employees that the red robes are evil, barry is understandably insulted. the next group of regulators that touch the ground are covered in fantasy cheez whiz for the duration of their mission.

lucretia gets him back by replacing all the denim in the jeans at his base with silly string. barry moves bases, and the prank war escalates

(no one has the courage to tell madame director that her hair has been turned rainbow at the last candlenights party. privately, lucretia thinks she looks bitchin)

every now and again, lucretia will text barry in a panic. these texts tend to look like this:

“barry.” “barold aid me” “barry I fucked shit up real good this time” “barry” “barry” “barry I was at the fantasy Olive Garden and the waiter said ‘enjoy your meal’ and I said ‘you too’ barry kill me n o w “

barry can and will mock lucretia mercilessly for this. he also insists for weekly video updates on fisher and junior.

he also has biweekly fantasy skype sessions with davenport

booyah: I saw a woman so beautiful I started crying???

bear-old: oh mood

booyah: and then I hired her and her son (who’s a little bitch) to work on my secret moon base and I think I’ve made a terrible mistake???????

bear-old: oh my fucking god this is why I don’t trust you to stop the apocalypse

when the thb start working as reclaimers, barry demands weekly updates on them, as well. it goes about as well as you’d expect

booyah: magnus ate the philosopher’s stone

bear-old: he fucking w h a t ?

booyah: he used the glutton’s fork, and he ATE the philosopher’s stone. taako and merle used stone skin and stone shape to get the damn thing out. happy fucking candlenights.

when barry finds out that taako’s DATING the fool who’s been chasing after him wile e coyote style for over a decade, he loses his s h i t. he and lucretia have a girls’ night where they bitch about taako and eat shitty chocolate to cope

bear-old: you HIRED a BABY???

booyah: he’s ten! that’s plenty old. and he’s certainly competent, seeing as he found my organization when even you couldn’t.

bear-old: creesh please. please do not Irreparably Fuck Up A Small Child

booyah: hey, at least I’m not the one who threw him off a moving train!

bear-old: I never threw anyone off a

bear-old: lucretia

bear-old: who

bear-old: who in your employ threw ANGUS MCDONALD, a LITERAL CHILD, off of a MOVING. VEHICLE?

booyah:

booyah: taako

bear-old: fucking fantasy CHRIST

(they have quite a few girls’ nights eating shitty chocolate and razzing on taako, actually)

team sweet flips goes to the director’s office one day to give a status report and find her red-eyed and coughing. she says she has allergies. the cute cat video barry just texted her on her stone, however, begs to differ

lucretia preps the boys for refuge, yes, but her mind is filled with texts and tomes and the letters “l u p” carved into a bureau wall. she passes countless sleepless nights with barry on the line, trying to decipher what it all means

but they emerge from the woven gulch unscathed, and that can only mean one thing: wonderland

she doesn’t tell barry where she’s sending them. she can’t let him interfere out of some misguided attempt to save her from the place. her texts grow few and far between

she doesn’t have to tell barry. he knows

the day they get sent out, as lucretia breaks down in her office, surrounded by a dizzying vastness that could envelop her very being if she would just let it, her stone buzzes.

four words: I’ll keep them safe

and then?

well, then it’s the end of the world

(but when lup emerges from her decade-long cage, phantasmal and resplendent, lucretia and barry share a look)

(and when the hunger is consuming the only home she knows and she’s flying out in one last attempt to face is, barry is on her stone)

(and when the dust settles and they’re finally, finally free, when the world hears a story and a song and former and current bureau employees alike learn just how important the mysterious “bj” really is, when lucretia looks at the wreckage of her life’s work and home and family — when all that happens, barry is the one to beckon to her with open arms.)

(they’ve been beside the other for a hundred and ten years, after all. that’s not gonna fucking change now.)

anyways yeah folks barry and lucretia texting au play with me in this space

@littlemisscritical @thatcoldfeeling and you know what? @herbgerblin what the hell

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

And so we begin what is probably my least favorite arc… at least in fanfics. Probably because so many just repeat what happens basically verbatim and don’t change anything. But we’ll see how actually going through it in the manga has me feeling by the end of it!

[No. 23 - Roaring Sports Festival]

We open up on the day of the sports festival, crowds of reporters waiting outside for the events to start. We see the same reporter from the day of the break-in here, along with others (though I think that some of the background faces are references?). Present Mic addresses them directly, getting deep into his radio host persona as he announces that it’s once again time for the high schoolers to ‘revel in their youth’, as it’s the UA sports festival.

We then get an awesome two-page spread:

I just love how Katsuki’s providing the background action movie explosion. What a pal. 

There’s a blank logo page, and then we move on to a flashback, finishing out the conversation between Izuku and Toshinori from two weeks before said Sports Festival.

Izuku slowly repeats Toshinori’s call to action (to tell the world ‘I am here!’), but isn’t sure how to go about it. Toshinori asks if Izuku knows how the Sports Festival works, which Izuku does, going into an explanation: The members of the support course, business course, general studies, and hero course are all thrown together, grouped by grade level. All the students compete in a series of preliminary competitions, whose winners move on to the main event. It’s a round-robin tournament for each grade level.

Toshinori continues his dramatic gesturing, pointing at Izuku with both hands as he confirms Izuku is exactly on point. This event is Izuku’s chance to gain mass appeal for himself. Izuku’s response?

God, Toshinori’s a dramatic dude, I love it. I can totally buy into him being a theater nerd in his off-time… not that he’s had much of that lately, but I digress. While Toshinori’s being dramatic, Izuku descends into a muttering spree, saying he gets what Toshinori is saying, he’s just not sure he can deal with it after what the class just went through. He’s also lacking motivation to stand out, since he sort of already has All Might as a mentor, and that as he is now, it wouldn’t even occur to him to make a big showing, just like with the strength tests.

Toshinori’s response?

Toshinori, I swear if someone walked in on that, there would be so many questions.These two were made for each other. 

When Izuku goes to check on Toshinori, Toshinori shoots him a serious look and tells him that the slight difference between those who always aim for the top and those who don’t will come to matter in a big way once Izuku and his friends emerge into society. He tells Izuku that he understands how he feels, and that he won’t force him… but also to not forget that drive he felt when cleaning up the beach.

We fast forward a bit to the end of that same day. Ochako is hesitating in the doorway, and for good reason: an entire crowd of students is standing there and chattering right on the other side. 

Also, while I am well aware it’s not Toga… I see you in the crowd there, messy bun girl… (narrow eyes)

Anyways. Ochako and the rest of the class are staring right back at the crowds, with Ochako wanting to know what’s going on. Mineta realizes there’ no way out, and wants to know what the other students are there for. Katsuki replies that they’re obviously there to scope out the competition, calling Mineta a ‘small fry.’ They’re the class who survived a villain attack, so it makes sense they’d want a look before the sports festival.

(Meanwhile, Mineta freaks out and points at Katsuki in fear while staring at Izuku, who sighs and comments on how that attitude is Kacchan on a good day.)

Katsuki says there’s no point, though, then tells the ‘cannon fodder’ to move aside. Izuku is freaking out a bit, while Tenya asks Katsuki to not resort to calling those they don’t even know ‘cannon fodder.’ 

A student looms over the others as he pushes himself to the front of the crowd, saying that it’s true that they came to get a look, before commenting on Katsuki’s modesty, asking if all the kids in the hero course are like him. Katsuki is looking like he’s starting to get pissed at someone talking back to him, while Tenya and Izuku in the background are shaking their hands and heads in unison, trying to be as clear as possible that they are not siding with Katsuki.

And so we get our first introduction to a fan favorite, Shinsou Hitoshi. Boy, does he look like he needs sleep for the next month.

Shinsou states that he’s somewhat disillusioned if this (referring to Katsuki) is what the hero class is offering. He then goes on to explain who those who didn’t make the hero course are stuck in general studies and the other tracks. There’s quite a few of them, did they know? At 1-a’s confusion, he continues on - depending on the results of the sports festival, the UA staff might consider transferring some of these non-hero course kids to the hero course. He understands the reverse is also possible for the hero students… 

Izuku jolts at that, no doubt panicking a bit at the idea of losing his spot. Shinsou keeps going, mentioning the scoping of the competition again because declaring that, for a general studies kid like him, this will be the perfect chance to knock the hero kids off their pedestals, and to consider this a declaration of war. 

I lobe these three, so in sync. All of them are a bit freaked out at the intensity of this, which is hilarious considering how intense Ochako was at lunchtime over this whole thing. 

Tetsutetsu (though we won’t learn his name for a little while) says he’s from class 1-b next door. He’d heard that 1-a had fought some villains, and wanted to find out more, but all he’s seeing is ‘this arrogant bastard.’ The three think of Tetsu^4 as another daredevil while he states that they better not make fools of the hero course at the event. Katsuki has no fucks to give about their commentary, while the three just get progressively more stressed to be associated with him in any way.

I love this whole page, just. They really do put up with so much because of Katsuki.

Katsuki, on his end, just starts shoving his way into the crowd. Kirishima calls him a jerk and asks what he’s doing to the rest of the class, and that thanks to him, they have a whole mob of haters now. Katsuki turns and gives Kirishima an unimpressed look, and says that he doesn’t give a crap, which has Kirishima shocked. Katsuki then says that he’s heading for the top, so why should he care?

The rest of the class is surprised and in some cases a bit moved. Kirishima is on the verge of tears as he comments on how that’s so straight-forward and manly, Tokoyami mutters about the top and how Katsuki isn’t wrong, and Sato thinks it’s well said. Kaminari is still freaking out, telling the others not to let him play them, and that all he’s doing is winning them enemies. 

Izuku has a flashback to Katsuki crying after the battle trial while declaring he’s gonna beat everyone. He calls himself an idiot as we see some of the other 1-a students waiting and talking, and then flashes back again to Ochako and Tenya’s motivations to become heroes, followed by Aizawa and Toshinori’s comments on limited time and the slight difference mattering when they emerge in society. We finally get a zoom-in on his face as he recalls Toshinori’s last words to him - the drive you felt when cleaning up the beach.

As this is the halfway point, and the rest covers the actual day of the festival, I will call it here! Next time, we get our other declaration of war in! 

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

ricin

summary: you started working in the bau because your boyfriend spencer had convinced you to transfer due to your knowledge of chemistry and background in psychology. despite your accolades, you’ve only worked on three cases so far with the team and hotch doesn’t necessarily trust your intuition yet, but after proving your abilities when solving a case, you finally gain respect. 

word count: 1,111                                                                                                  reading time aprox: 4 mins

masterlist

“Wait, so let me get this right. Our guy here is kidnapping both men and women right and left?” Morgan asked, staring at the evidence board in front of him that showed the latest victims of multiple kidnappings and two homicides. “Do you think it it could be sexual? Maybe personal?” He inquired. 

“No, the unsub used a Heckler G36 handgun and it was from a distance. The Heckler G36 is actually what is commonly used in the German Military, which is a contrast to the G3 which is generally us-” Reid explained, falling into yet again another spiel of facts. 

“If you look at the track marks in the dirt, it seemed that the victim kept stopping to look back, the unsub was most likely following the victim” Hotch expressed, cutting Reid’s jabbering short. 

Reid’s expression turned blank as his lips curved into a straight line, twiddling his thumbs against the case file he held in between his hands. I chuckled to myself as I witnessed the redness that began to appear on ‘pretty boy’s’ cheeks. 

“Maybe the victim escaped?” JJ suggested, peering into the photo of the lifeless body that sat deserted in the woods. 

“You may be right” Hotch agreed, tossing the file aside and looking into the crime scene details. “But the unsub’s MO changed from the first murder. Last time he used a blunt weapon” 

“So it is personal?” Morgan inquired again 

“No it couldn’t be. Our unsub left quite a mess” Reid explained. “But, the killer is too organized to be able to leave a scene like that”

“But that makes no sense, how can this guy’s MO change in the midst of a kidnapping?” JJ questioned

I shot up from seat, walking closer to the board looking at the layout of the victims and the missing persons reports. We usually laid them out chronologically in order to keep the evidence organized and concise. 

“Let me see that forensics report Garcia” I demanded, leaving my hand out for Garcia to give me the files. 

“Do you see anything Y/L/N?” Hotch asked

“Po...ssibly” I hesitantly replied, moving the victims pictures out of the sequence they were placed in. 

“What are you doing Y/L/N?” 

“With all due respect sir, I’m trying to find an answer for you right now” I retorted, earning a few snickers from Morgan and Reid. 

“What if...what if the first homicide was his first attempt?” I hypothesised. I looked at the team to see them all gawking at me with baffled expressions. “I mean what if this first victim was his first attempt at kidnapping” I elaborated. 

“But that doesn’t corroborate with the timeline that was given to us. The first reported missing person took place 2 days before this victim was found” Hotch contrasted. 

“Yes that’s true, but look at the forensics report and the conducted autopsy” I pinned the two reports to the board, hastily reaching for a dry erase marker. “It says that in the forensics report, there was a residue of 4 moles of N-acetyl-glucosamine. Although, forensics ruled that out as an environmental waste due to the forest herbs. But if you look over here” I pointed at the autopsy recordings, “4 moles of N-acetyl-glucosamine and 11 moles of mannose were found inside the victims esophagus, meaning that-” 

“It’s Ricin” Reid concluded, finishing my sentence for me. I gave him an affirmative nod, thanking him for the support and continued to explain my theory. 

“I-I don’t get it Y/L/N” Hotch confessed. 

“Ricin is a toxin that takes days, sometimes a week, give or take to have full effect on an individual. It’s usually found when manufacturing Castor beans and also is-” Reid began 

“made up of polypeptide A and B making the toxin virtually lethal, even in small doses” I finished Reid’s sentence, earning a sly smirk from him. “Most importantly, now that we know his method of abduction, we also know his location”.

-

“I’m trusting you on this Y/L/N” Hotch expressed warily, following the team into an abandoned barn that was hidden in miles of forest shrubs and tall trees. 

“I know it’s here sir...I have a feeling” 

“Let’s just hope that feeling’s right Y/L/N” 

Hotch talked into his walkie talkie, signaling the first team to clear the main floor. Men began filing into the double doors, surveying every corner of the lot. 

“Nothing here sir” was heard from Hotch’s monitor. He sighed heavily, returning his gun back to it’s holster before facing my direction. Disappointment was etched onto his expression and I began to feel a heavy weight form in my stomach. 

“Damn it Y/L/N-” 

“Wait- sir, there’s a basement down here” 

-

“Good job today Y/L/N” Hotch complimented. I have him a nod of gratitude, yet I still felt unsatisfied by his comment. He began to walk away, but then suddenly decided to make a 180 to face me again. “I’m...I’m sorry kid, I should’ve had more faith in you” He apologized with an expression of remorse. He laid a comforting hand on my shoulder, whilst looking at me with a light smile. “You’re going to be a great agent someday”. With that he left, walking towards the van while Reid and Morgan came up to me. 

“Hey there princess, great going today” Morgan complimented. I simply blushed and shook my head, “It wouldn’t be a good case if it wasn’t for you guys” I confessed, smiling as the case was finally over after a grueling week. Morgan came up to give me a hug, patting me on the back before leaving to the van. “It’s great to have you on the team kid”

Spencer took this as an opportunity to come up behind me and snake his arms around my waist. “You did so well Y/N” he praised, pulling me back into his chest as he buried his face into the crevice of neck. 

“Thanks Spence, that means more than you know” I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder as we watched the rest of the team pack up the investigation. He placed a sweet kiss on my forehead, emphasizing the great difference in our heights, before taking my hands in his. 

“You know I still can’t believe that YOU figured out the chemical residue left behind at the scene before ME” He exaggerated. I giggled in response, shoving him lightly to the side as we walked hand in hand back to the van. 

“Scared of a little competition Dr. Reid?” I teased, grinning at him. 

“Not at all agent Y/L/N” He replied. “Especially since I’m the one with three PhD’s and three Bachelors” He slyly added. I groaned, rolling my eyes as he began to flaunt his intelligence once again. 

“Shut up Spence before I poison you with Ricin” 

--

A/N: if you’re familiar with my other writing regarding timothee, this must be bizarre to see, but please bare with me considering im actually in love with matthew gray gubler

[darkdevasofdestruction]

My Clarity ~ Shikamaru x Kitsune

A little fic in which Shikamaru isn’t the only kid who gets advice from his dad through Shogi.

Honestly tho, I’m in my exam session, 9 exams, thankfully, only 2 more to go next week, and I have a burning urge to re-watch all of Naruto for some reason, and my love for this beautiful Deer boy resurfaced very VERY powerfully.

Oops.

Little fox, little fox, what are you hiding behind that sly, cheerful smile of yours?

Little fox, little fox, why are you all alone?

Little fox, little fox, what's going on through your mind?

Little fox, little fox...Do you wanna play?

---

Shikamaru always knew there was something off with the red haired girl in his class -

She just seemed too perfect. 

She was beautiful, she was smart, she was talented, she was kind, she was helpful, she was selfless..

And his parents were best friends with her parents, so they would often meet up for play dates and whatever.

No matter how much he tried to avoid her like the plague, she didn’t give up, and whenever he asked her why the hell she wanted to hang out with him so bad, she’d just say

“Because I like you, little fawn.”

That stupid nickname, that soon turned into “Deer boy” irked him big time...But in a way...

He was the only one to whom she gave nicknames, so he felt kinda special.

Actually, he was the only one with whom she actually seemed completely genuine...So maybe he should actually enjoy it?

Yeah, why not, right? 

She’s not so bad, after all, and if he gets to learn something form her, all the better!

----

“Scrub it off. Clean it off. Take it off. Claw it off. Rip it off. Saw it off. Carve it off. Rinse it off. Wash it off. Cut it off –“ the obsessive mutterings went on and on like grating. She was trembling, not even realizing her cheeks were soaked, not from the rain, but from the tears her beautiful green eyes that now resembled a rainforest, were producing.

 What was going on? This can’t be happening…This was supposed to be a simple mission with her dad and her dad’s best friend…It was just a B mission at most…How could things escalate this much?

 Being a ninja, she knew things are dangerous and would put you in impossible situations…That you can even lose your life or your friends and comrades…But…

Why now…? Why so soon…?

She’s barely 10 years old…She wanted to go on this mission to see how beautiful the world outside the Country of Fire is…But this…?

 “Scrub it off. Clean it off. Take it off. Claw it off. Rip it off. Saw it off. Carve it off. Rinse it off. Wash it off. Cut it off –“ she continued rambling, standing there, on her knees, on the wet grass, all muddy, all bloody, not having moved from there for at least a whole hour, so much that she almost thought she started growing roots into the ground.

 “Scrub it off. Clean it off. Take it off. Claw it off. Rip it off. Saw it off. Carve it off. Rinse it off. Wash it off. Cut it off –“ she went on and on and on with no stopping, with no equivalent of time and space, of self, of body, of identity. She was lost. She was not only broken, but completely shattered. She was blank.

 “Kitsune, that’s enough. Snap out of it. He’s dead. We have to get out of here before the enemies find us. We’ve been here enough.” the man who was her dad’s best friend went on his knees in front of her and grasped her wrists, pulling her hands away from her eye sight so she will stop looking at her father’s blood. “He’s not…He’s not…He can’t be…He can’t…He won’t…He wouldn’t…Leave me…No…He’s just…R-Resting…Don’t mess around with me…” instead of focusing on her hands that were painted with clotted blood, her eyes were now in the vision of the body laying in a pool of its own blood, its chest being cut to access the heart. “I know it’s impossible to accept this, but your parents wouldn’t want you to die here because you froze up. Let’s go home. We’ll get his body in a scroll and I’ll arrange for a funeral.” the man tried to reason with the child, who, in turn, moved for the first time since the incident. “HE’S NOT FUCKING DEAD! STOP LYING TO ME, SHIKAKU, HE’S NOT DEAD!!! HE CAN’T BE DEAD! HE’S NOT! I HEALED HIM! I RESTARTED HIS HEART! HE’S NOT DEAD! I DIDN’T LET HIM DIE! HE’S TOO STRONG TO DIE! HE WOULDN’T LEAVE ME AND MUM! I’M TELLING YOU, HE’LL GET UP ANY MINUTE NOW! I DID EVERYTHING BY THE BOOK! JUST AS THE MEDICAL NINS TAUGHT ME! I DID NO MISTAKE! I DID NOTHING WRONG! I’M SURE!” the red haired girl lashed out at the man, shrieking so loud that her throat felt raw, almost bleeding, her emotions pouring down harder than the rain as she shook hit the man’s chest and shoulder, but he could only look at her with pity in his dark eyes, almost imagining his own son, should that have been him on the ground. “It’s not your fault, Kitsune. You did everything you could, but sometimes, there is nothing anyone can do. Some injuries are so severe that they can’t be healed, even if you are the most skilled healer. It wasn’t your fault, it was the enemies’ fault.  I promise you.” the Nara put the ANBU captain’s corpse in a scroll and picked the girl up, running back to the village and reporting to the Hokage.

 The girl was lost, had no idea what to say, what to do, what to feel – Not when Shikaku was explaining what happened to the Hokage, not when he broke the news to her mum, hell, not even when she was staring at a beautiful picture of the three of them together, at his funeral.

 No children were allowed at the funeral, as per her request – She didn’t want any pity, and she wanted to give no explanations.

She wanted nobody involved. Things were bad enough as they were.

So the only people from the school who knew were the teachers.

Not Shikamaru, not Hinata, not Sasuke, not Shino…

Nobody.

Definitely nobody.

 Her dad wasn’t dead, after all.

She didn’t kill him.

She did everything she was taught to do.

She did the cardiac massage, she was sure she felt his heart pumping again, she definitely saw him breathing…

…Right?

She did, didn’t she?

She didn’t imagine it, right?

She didn’t try to get his heart to pump again when he was already irreversibly dead…

…Right?

  ----

The little red haired girl smiled dazzlingly at the children in her class, who were also her friends. She knew she was the most popular girl in the whole Academy, but she didn't let it bother her, or change the way she behaved with everyone - Everyone was equal in her eyes, even if they were obnoxious or annoying - And in turn, she got invited to everyone's birthday parties or hang outs, and so on.

But most of the time, she couldn't go to those hang outs because she was constantly training with her parents to become an excellent ninja, and in the future, a member of the ANBU - It wasn't only her dream, but her parents jobs too.

ANBU captains

What greater honour could there be?

While other 10 year olds were playing around, she was hanging around adults, learning how to perfect her fighting styles, ninjutsu and genjutsu, but not only -

She wanted to learn medical ninjutsu, she wanted to help people, to save them, for all the times she heard all those scary stories from her parents and their friends...How they lost people, comrades, partners, friends...Because in the Great War, there was barely any medical ninja around to save them...

She couldn't allow that to happen - Not on her watch.

"Okay, class. Today, we are going to do a team activity, and we need 2 captains. Who wants that position?" Iruka-sensei asked his class, and, as expected, most of the kids nominated Kitsune, while Sasuke, Naruto and Kiba wanted to be captains themselves, and Sakura and Ino nomitated the Uchiha. This class' dynamic was always the same, and in a way, this exhausting routine was sort of comforting for the red haired fox-like girl. "Kitsune, Sasuke, step forward. As Kitsune was nominated by the most of you, she will choose first."

"I choose Shika!" in front of the class, the girl with sparkling green eyes grinned enthusiastically as she extended her arms in front of her, as a way of cordially inviting the friend she cherished the most, despite all the gasps of shock she received.

"Sh-Shikamaru? Kitsune, why not choose me first?! I'm so much stronger than that guy who just sleeps all day and is too lazy to move!" Naruto yelled at her, but she merely sweat dropped and chuckled awkwardly.

"But Shikamaru is the smartest in this class and I believe we get along very well. When forming a team, you don't have to always get the ones who are more energetic or physically stronger, but the best strategists and those with whom you can create a perfect synergy and your abilities and skills compliment each other. Having Shika on my team means that we're definitely going to win against Sasuke's team!" the girl shrugged casually, ending her explanation with a sly, incredibly fox-like smirk - One that screamed 'Victory'.

"Uh...Thanks for picking me, I guess." Shikamaru awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, before muttering his usual catch phrase "What a drag..."

Sasuke glared at the girl, despite knowing very well there was barely anyone with any kind of potential in this class, but he got around to choosing Kiba. Then, Kitsune chose Shino, while Sasuke got Choji. Kitsune got Hinata and Sasuke could barely stop himself from facepalming, but chose Sakura. Grinning at the brunet captain, Kitsune chose Ino, so Naruto was stuck with Sasuke - It was the perfect plan.

The two groups went out in the forest, in the opposite parts, and had 15 minutes to come up with a plan to steal the Captain's bandana.

"First of all, I'd like to apologise to Shika for not being able to get Choji as well. I know that the Ino-Shika-Cho formation is incredibly powerful, and that the three of you would have had an amazing synergy, but there's that. However, I'm happy that we have Shino with us, I'm sure the insects are going to scare off both Sakura and Naruto...Which reminds me, Naruto an Sasuke are going to work against each other most of the time. With Shikamaru and I as the strategist, Hinata’s Byakugan and the maturity and knowledge of Shino and Ino, we are going to make the perfect team. Besides…Ino, if you show off how strong you are, and you beat Sakura in the process, I’m sure you’re going to impress Sasuke!” Kitsune clapped her hands together, charming all of her team mates, as per usual. “Oh, but Sakura doesn’t stand a chance! She will swoon over Sasuke-kun all the time and will be completely useless! That Naruto will screw everything up for Sasuke-kun and will be loud enough to give away their position, and I’m sure he’ll argue with everyone, especially Kiba. And Choji eats all the time, I doubt he’ll do much, especially if he sees how everyone argues among themselves and does nothing good. He’s a pacifist, y’know.” Ino grinned condescendingly as she berated almost everyone in the enemy team. “Very well, then I will tell you my plan, and when I’m done, I’d like you to tell me your insight and how to perfect it, if you have any ideas. The main idea is to distract Sasuke while Shika uses his shadow to immobilize Sasuke, so I can steal away the bandana. Ino, you have to stay away from Sakura, so you won’t bicker. I need your Mind Transfer jutsu. Hinata, your Byakugan will be detrimental in finding out everyone’s location, and I have faith in your fighting abilities. Shino, of course, apart from the fact that I’m sure your insects are going to scare away some of those guys, you are a very strong fighter and very intelligent as well.” Kitsune explained simply, and everyone seemed to nod in agreement. “Actually, I think Ino, Hinata and Shino should stay together, at least in the beginning. Ino can incapacitate one person for a short amount of time, so if she stops Sasuke, I can catch him in my shadows, and you can steal away the bandana, while Shino and Hinata fight the others. Those two are sensory types, so they can find out everyone’s positions and the bugs can guide us to them.” Shika pointed out, which made the red haired girl widen her eyes at him in shock for a few seconds, only to grin widely and almost literally glow in happiness. “You’re the best, Shika! It’s always so great hanging out with you! Come on, 15 minutes passed, let’s go and win this!” she cheered to hype the others up, and it worked well enough, and it seemed to give them a little boost of confidence.

 And so, they went to the middle of the forest while Hinata and Shino searched for the enemies – Who they easily found – And Kitsune and Shikamaru split up around Sasuke in a pincer formation. Just as planned, Naruto easily gave away his position, so Shino and Hinata went to fight or scare away Sakura and the others who went down faster than expected, considering they were all split up, not in groups.

When Sasuke was the last one standing, Ino used her Mind Transfer jutsu on him, Sasuke immobilized him and the fox girl stole away the bandana.

 However, just as they were making their escape, Sasuke got out of his immobilized state and went to attack the group – The fox girl gave shadow boy the token of victory and told him to take the team away and make their escape, while she quickly beat the Uchiha and went back to them, only to see the Nara didn’t actually go with the others, but returned to make sure she was okay.

 “Very well played, everyone. Now, the 2 captains, shake hands, and you can all go home for today.” Their teacher smiled at them, while also pointing out the obvious problems in the other team. “Hey, about about we go to the BBQ place to celebrate our win?” Ino asked, smiling triumphantly. “We can invite Sasuke too, since he tried his best, but he didn’t have a team.” Was her plan, and everyone seemed to agree – Of course, the other team wanted to join as well, so there was that, but…

“Oh, uh-uhm…S-Sorry, but I can’t come. I, uh…My parents and I are pretty busy today, haha. But I hope you have fun for me as well! Take care, guys, see ya tomorrow!” Kitsune chuckled awkwardly, rushing to go home and train with her parents.

 However, she didn’t come to school the next day. Or the one after…Or the whole week, for the matter.

She was absent for almost 2 whole weeks, for the matter.

Until she wasn’t anymore.

But when she returned, she was as radiant as always.

For those who weren’t as observant as Shikamaru, that is…

What was he supposed to do, anyway? Go and confront her? No way, that would be a drag…And besides, if she wanted to talk, she’d come to him…Or someone, right?

 The biggest shock of his life was, however, to come home one day from school and finding a certain red haired girl playing Shogi with his own father, and they seemed to be very comfortable with each other? And they were smiling?

“Hey, Shika! Welcome home! Oh, you got here just in time, I and your mum managed to finish cooking earlier! Go and eat something, you don’t want the food to get cold, right?” Kitsune waved at him, smiling sweetly, but the boy could only stare at both of them, incredibly confused, his eyebrows raised so far up that they almost got into his hairline. “Wh-What are you doing here? Dad, what’s going on? Why are you playing Shogi with Kitsune?” the poor boy asked, his head almost snapping from going back and forth. “Oh, w-well…I was pleasantly impressed with your intelligence and strategy, so I came here to praise you to your dad! Also, my mum said she always enjoyed learning and playing Shogi with him, so I thought I’d give it a shot too! You should have heard her, honestly, Shikaku beat me again at Shogi, you should have seen the new stunt he pulled today! It was completely revolutionary, we could totally use it in our next mission!” Kitsune laughed lightly, trying to calm the boy down a bit. “You have to be careful, son, she might just win against you if you slack off too much.” Shikaku teased his son, who could only groan and leave to eat. “Tsk…What a drag…Troublesome woman…” the boy muttered, leaving the place that got immediately much darker. “You can stay for dinner, Kitsune. We can call your mother as well, if you want. I doubt she’d have been up to cooking anything after what happened.” the Nara sighed deeply, crossing his arms and looking attentively at the frail girl in front of him, who may as well be close to shattering. “N-No…I-I…I couldn’t…Do this to her…I’m afraid…Something’s coming…Something incredibly bad…If I’m not there, who knows what will happen…Uhm…Thanks for today, Shikaku. I appreciate it. And he would have as well. See you tomorrow.” She got up and left the place in a hurry, going back home.

However, as soon as she opened the door, she called out to tell her mother…Who didn’t answer. Worried, the red haired girl went to the kitchen, hoping to do some cooking for her mother, who may have been still resting in her room…

But the sight in front of her shook her to the core, for the rest of her life… And since then, the last thing Shikamaru saw of her was her fox necklace that she left over to Shikaku the next day she went for a Shogi play.

He hated to admit it, but this woman…This woman, he actually missed, but no matter how much he pestered his father for an answer, he would only say  “Soon”.

What was such an enigmatic and vague answer supposed to do to reassure and inform him in any way that he will meet her ever again?

He never even had the time to play Shogi with her, or chat properly, hang out by the field to watch the clouds go by…And graduate together, maybe even get put in the same team…

He couldn’t believe this was really happening, and for a while, he actually hated the girl for just leaving like that, without even saying goodbye to him.

Oh, if only the poor boy knew the truth…

  ----

Years passed, Shikamaru was already the first Chunin from his class, they already went in enough missions as teams, and were old enough to see the world in new eyes…Yet nothing could compare to what their parents saw in the Great War, so they were still green ninjas, unaware of the true horrors of this world.

 He was already 16…He couldn’t believe 6 years passed since he last saw that little firecracker named after a cute fox that he used to call “friend” in his Academy days. Every year, when the day of her departure came by, he’d take the day off and go to the spot they would both spend time, watching the clouds – And for some reason, he would always see a fox shaped cloud.

 It was such a drag.

 However, on the 6th year, his father stopped him from going to the field, instead, asking to play Shogi, something that confused the boy greatly, but he decided he should listen to what his father had to say.

 But never, in his life, would he have expected that his father finally saw him as old enough to tell him what happened to that mysterious girl who disappeared so suddenly.

He told Shikamaru everything that happened on that mission gone wrong – The Kirigakure ninjas attacking them, Kitsune’s father saving her and dying in the process, and the little girl snapping, going on a rampage, and when returning to her father’s side, she tried to revive him for so long, that he thought he wasn’t going to be able to pry her away from his body. The shock that completely stunned her, seeing herself in the reflection of the cold water, trying to scrub away the blood from her hands – Blood that wasn’t there anymore, but she kept seeing it – She tried and tried and tried to wash it off – To even claw it off – aggressively scrubbing away with her nails, leaving trails all over her arms.

 And that day, when Shikamaru caught them playing Shogi – When she got home, she saw her mother hanging in the kitchen – She couldn’t take it anymore. Her mother loved her husband so much, that she couldn’t handle being without him anymore, nor could she handle staying in the same house with the daughter who looked so much like him.

 Her mother committed suicide.

 It was a clear sign to Kitsune that she should get the hell out of Konoha, before she would lose herself completely.

But even then, she held Shikamaru in her heart, which is why she asked Shikaku to give him her necklace before she left.

 She had no idea where she wanted to go, but she had to.

 And that day, when she played Shogi, the strategies she took, influenced by Shikaku’s aggressiveness in the game, made the both of them realize that the deer boy was too precious to her to sacrifice, as a mere Shogi piece.

So she left to get better and protect the last person she loved who was still alive.

And Shikamaru felt guilty for resenting her for 6 years.

 ---

“I wonder who’s our other team mate. Lady Tsunade didn’t say much about this person.” Ino asked, dangling her feet, bored, staying on a tree branch. “I heard it’s a girl!” Choji munched on his crisps, not really caring much. “Dad said it’s some ANBU captain or something. What a drag, that means this mission’s going to be more difficult than before…” Shikamaru groaned, slouching down. “As usual, you come up with the best strategies. It’s weirdly nice working with you again, and –“ the angelic voice of a woman was heard by the trio, who immediately perked up in curiosity, as in their field of vision, Shikamaru’s father walked by, wearing a relaxed and joking smile on his face, side by side with a much shorter individual, with long hair, kissed by fire, dressed in the usual ANBU outfit, with a fox mask covering her face, and a few weapons strapped to her back. “Is…Is this our team  mate?” Ino gasped at the beauty in front of her. “I sure hope so.” Choji chuckled, nudging Shikamaru, but the boy could only stare at her, frowning, unable to utter any word. “Here’s your team, Kitsune. I’m sure you missed being around your friends –“ but Shikaku couldn’t finish his sentence, for as soon as the girl saw the brunet boy, she got rooted to the spot for a few seconds, before squealing and throwing herself in his arms, hugging him as tight as possible. “Shika!!!”  she cried out, twirling around with him, not wanting to let him go. “I missed you so much, Shika~!” “K-Kitsune…? Is that really you…?” poor Shikamaru couldn’t even hug the girl back because of the extreme shock he was in, but his father’s chuckle snapped him back to reality. “Yes, silly, it’s me! I’m back.” The girl quickly took off her mask, putting it to her waist belt, flashing the same dazzling white smile of hers – The same one that completely stole his heart many years ago. “Remember me?” “Y-Yeah, ‘course I do, uhmm…” he tried to stumble over his words, despite the blush creeping on his face. “My…! You grew up so much! And you’re absolutely gorgeous! …Eh…~? Look at you, you’re so cute with red cheeks! And you’re even wearing my necklace! I’m so happy, Shika…! Your parents must be so proud to have the smartest and prettiest child in the whole Country of Fire, right Shikaku~?” the red haired girl giggled teasingly, making the poor deer boy so flustered that he had to fry her off and look away, while his friends and dad were laughing at him. “What a troublesome woman…! Tsk…Stop being so familiar with me, you’re annoying.” Shika tried to fend off, but the girl feigned that annoying puppy dog eyes that she always did when she was little and she wanted to spend time with him. “Th-Then…You didn’t miss me, Shika? At all? Not even a tiny bit?” she asked in the most pitiful voice, pouting and getting closer to his face, which in turn, killed him instantly. “…Fine, yeah, maybe, whatever. Let’s go on our mission.” The poor boy grumbled, walking ahead of everyone, not even bothering to say goodbye to his dad, as his friends were already teasing him and laughing. “He’s so cute~!” the girl grinned, carefree, following his lead.

 The road to the mission’s point was filled with light chatting and some catching up, but for Shikamaru, the situation was different – Every word she uttered, he analysed and scanned, as if looking for any string of white lie that sewed together a perfectly made up story.

 She wanted to learn a more diverse range of skills so she went to learn from other Ninja villages and random renowned rouge ninjas and samurais…

And, allegedly, 2 years prior, she returned and joined the ANBU, and chose only the longest missions that led farthest away from the Country of Fire.

 How dubious…

  “Shh, stop, here we are.” Kitsune stopped abruptly, crouching down on the branch carefully, squinting and watching like a hawk every one of the grouped up ninjas, almost as if she was peering at them under a microscope – Every micronic detail, she sketched in her mind and carefully created a plan to take them down, before snapping her fingers once to draw her team’s attention towards her. “See that guy with blue hair, tied up, and black eyes? That’s our guy. We capture him, and kill everyone else. Easy enough?” despite muttering in a low voice, her piercing gaze didn’t move for not even a single pico-second. “But…Kitsune…? I don’t mean to sound doubting…But there must be at least 50 ninjas out there, and they seem to be at least Chuunin level. And weren’t Kirigakure ninjas supposed to be bloodthirsty and to be using poison?” Ino asked, obviously very worried. “They aren’t Kirigakure ninjas, but yeah, you are right about those guys. These ones are in disguise, but not great ones, I’d have to say. See that guy with orange hair? His sleeve is raised up, and a brown tattoo can be seen, which indicates they are from Iwa. Very annoying and strong. Those stupid guys have an Iwakage who can eradicate everything in sight with that stupid particle-something jutsu of his…And they have an explosion department…Thank God I didn’t remain in Konoha…” Kitsune muttered, the corner of her mouth raising into a triumphant smirk that meant she was going to create a blood bath. “Explosions?! How can we protect ourselves against that?” Choji was almost comically trembling, eating crisps even more rapidly than before. “Unfortunately for you, neither has a Lightning chakra nature, so we can’t actively deactivate them…However…I trained with the best puppet master in the world, who so happens to have as a partner the most fanatic, yet talented bomb artist, so I know how to go against these guys. Shika, Ino, I want you to make sure you get the leader away from the group. Since you can get in his body, just say you need to pee or something, and that you’ll be back, which is when Shikamaru will use his shadows to get him towards us, and then three of you will protect him, while I kill this lot, got it?” she asked, finally snapping from her hawk-like self and taking out her weapons, soaking them in poison with a wet cloth. “That’s not the best strategy, I’d say. We do nothing, while you do all the work. I am more than one-man hit, y’know? I grew up and trained too. I can get at least 20 of those guys.” Shikamaru’s annoyed voice perked up, surprising the girl, who could only blink and look at him with big, almost fawn-like eyes. “I never doubted any of you for a second, and if it seemed that way, I apologise sincerely. Thing is, I’m an ANBU, and out of all of you, only you, Shikamaru, promoted to Chuunin. Now, I’m not saying that these grades matter, because they don’t, but at the same time, I’m responsible for you, and I don’t want to go home with one of you dead in my arms, and having to hold your funeral. I told Tsunade to let me do this alone, but she insisted I pair up with you. I want you all to promise you won’t get in my way and attack, unless necessary, got it? As I said, I absolutely REFUSE to get your blood on my hands, capiche?” Kitsune’s voice became very dry, dark and poisonous very fast, which made the blonde and chestnut haired ninjas gulp and nod fiercely, while the brunet only frowned in anger. “We aren’t 10 year old anymore, Kitsune, and neither are you. This ain’t the mission you went to 6 years ago, and nobody will die on your watch, got it? If you keep being afraid of taking risks, you’ll fail.” Shikamaru got closer to her face, arguing her plan. “Shikaku told you what happened, didn’t he? Well, I should have known, it was bound to happen. Nonetheless, as I said, I’m the leader of the team. You do as I say, or you go home. I will have NOBODY’S blood on my hands. Now go do your jobs and do NOT put yourselves in danger unless I say so.” Kitsune, for the last time, warned the trio, then got up, took off her konoha forehead protector and switched it to a rogue-one, then put back her fox mask and raising her arms up, she attached chakra string to each and every ninja, except the target. “Now, Ino, Shikamaru, go get him.” She commanded in such a dark and monotone voice, almost as if she suddenly transformed into the villain of the series.

 Despite disagreeing with the plan, the two did as were told, and very easily, lured their victim into the perfectly placed trap, and now, the trio were his guard.

Further, Kitsune grinne widely behind her mask, chuckling and jumping down from the tall tree, as she used her fire chakra to burn the string, and in turn, the victims they were attached to. With incredible speed and agility, she jumped in the middle of the group and started slicing left and right mercilessly, losing herself in the bloodlust that was surging through her veins, her mind completely away from reality, but in a whole new universe – Of killing strategy.

 …That is, until familiar voices – Screams, rather – Resounded through the forest, which completely snapped her away from her concentration, and in turn, getting cut and scratched in various places.

 Her eyes saw it easily – The leader escaped their grasp and ran to attempt to kill her, but Shikamaru tried to fight him, and failed, and now Ino was trying heal him. But she was crying. She wasn’t a good enough medical ninja yet. Kitsune knew that feeling all too well.

  “Scrub it off. Clean it off. Take it off. Claw it off. Rip it off. Saw it off. Carve it off. Rinse it off. Wash it off. Cut it off –“ kept going into her mind, unusually loud, almost throwing her off her game.

With a raw growl, close to animalistic, she saw red in front of her, and burnt everything in her paths, slashing, dashing, cutting and ripping apart every living being there, sans the leader, whom she managed to immobilize and knock out with the help of Choji. Without sparing any second, she ran to Shikamaru’s side and fell to her knees, roughly pushing Ino aside.

It was an impulsive rush of rage, for she snatched away her mask and forehead protector and threw them as far away as possible, before shrieking at the deer boy for being so stupid.

“Scrub it off. Clean it off. Take it off. Claw it off. Rip it off. Saw it off. Carve it off. Rinse it off. Wash it off. Cut it off –“ those words just wouldn’t stop screeching at her.

“YOU FUCKING IDIOT, SHIKAMARU, I TOLD YOU TO BE CAREFUL, DAMN IT! I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU!” she gripped so tightly at her hair that Ino thought she was going to rip it all off. “If you dare die…I will never forgive you. Never, you get it? Never. Not you. Of all people…You’re the last one alive…So you can’t. I refuse to allow you that. You don’t have the permission to leave me. Ever. Got it?” the red head growled lowly, getting one of her hands inside his chest, performing cardiac massage, and cursed herself for remembering that mission long ago, when she had to do the same thing with her father – But this time, Shikamaru was still alive, and she was sure this time around – No more lies or delusions.

  “Scrub it off. Clean it off. Take it off. Claw it off. Rip it off. Saw it off. Carve it off. Rinse it off. Wash it off. Cut it off –“ she needed bloody therapy, she knew that, otherwise those words were going to be the death of her.

With her other hand, she used her other hand to prop up his head and give him CPR, once again, cursing herself for having to do something like this, when she hoped everyone would remain safe and she would, one day, share a sweet kiss with him – Not have to save his life like that.

  “Scrub it off. Clean it off. Take it off. Claw it off. Rip it off. Saw it off. Carve it off. Rinse it off. Wash it off. Cut it off –“ they were louder and louder, causing almost a physical discomfort, as if someone was grating her brain.

Once, twice, thrice, and more, so much more – Sasori taught her healing ninjutsu well, and she was confident in her abilities, but there was always that speck of fear and PTSD that was creeping in the back of her mind, reminding her of her past failure.

But the puppet master was an excellent teacher, and she, in turn, was a hard-working and diligent student, so there was no way she was going to put the man she loved on the list of people she let die.

  “Scrub it off. Clean it off. Take it off. Claw it off. Rip it off. Saw it off. Carve it off. Rinse it off. Wash it off. Cut it off –“ SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP

“Argh…Too close…” a hand suddenly pushed her aside weakly, and a cough snapped her out of her focused mindset – And blinking away to reality, she realized that the Nara boy was sitting in front of her, breathing normally, and coughing a bit, wearing a scowl on his face.

  “Scrub it off. Clean it off. Take it off. Claw it off. Rip it off. Saw it off. Carve it off. Rinse it off. Wash it off. Cut it off –“ the threat is over now, you can stop already, he’s not dead...Like your parents.

“…Oh thank goodness…” Kitsune groaned, letting herself fall on her back, looking up at the sky, her nails digging into her arms now, trying to snap herself back to reality completely. “I won’t forgive you for the stunt you pulled.” She muttered absent-minded, not caring about anyone around her anymore. “…What a troublesome woman. She’s gonna scold me all the way back home. Great.” Shika tried to chuckle, lighting up the mood, but the red haired girl was already on her feet, tying up the target and carrying it, walking in the direction of the village, without saying another word – Her face now again, covered with her mask, showing that she didn’t want to be approached in any way. “Shikamaru, you insensitive idiot! You, jerk! Is that how you treat the woman you love?! She was just worried about you, and you throw away words like that?! Go and apologise right now!” Ino shouted at him, nagging him like she was his mum, so much that the boy could only sigh and drag his hands down his face in annoyance and resentment.

And he actually tried, for once, to reconcile properly, but the only words that she told him were “You have to rest properly when you get home.” And then she just rushed farther and farther ahead.

And that’s just what he did, as the girl guided him home, let the others go to theirs as well, while she went to the Hokage to report to the mission.

After taking a nap and resting, as advised, he left his bedroom and went to the kitchen, seeing his mother frowning, which confused him.

“What happened?” he asked, knowing something was up. “Well…Nothing, really. Your dad is playing Shogi with Kitsune…And I just remembered her mother and the good times when we were friends. Too bad the good ones always die first.” Yoshino sighed, sweeping absent-minded. “Uhm…Y-Yeah…I guess.” He muttered, not having a clue what to say in such a situation. “Won’t you be a dear and tell her to remain for dinner? Poor girl, she’s been all alone since she was 10…I can’t imagine how horrible it must have been…” but she stopped herself before saying anything more that would have upset her, so Shikamaru left the room, believing that letting her just be would have been better.

 However, instead of making his presence known, he decided to just open the door ever so slightly, enough to peep from behind and watch the interaction going –

Kitsune was sitting in front of the Shogi table, her head slightly hung, her outfit still unchanged – And she said no word, but it wasn’t clear if she was listening to his father either.

  “You can take off your mask now, Kitsune. The mission is over. You can get dressed in Shikamaru’s clothes. Why don’t you sleep over?” Shikaku tried to get a response out of her, even beginning the match, but she seemed to be in her own mind. “No.” she finally muttered after a while, yet she made her move as well, almost robotically. “Kitsune. The mission is over. You can relax now. You are allowed to. You did well and nobody got hurt. Get out of your mission-mind,  you’re home now.” The man tried again, but it was clear the aura around the girl became more and more agitated. “Shikamaru almost died.” She pointed out bitterly. “As far as I’m concerned, my son is sleeping in his room as usual. He didn’t complain about his team leader, nor of any injury or danger. If he is fine, so should you be. You can’t take anyone’s pain.” His father spoke again, and with each word, he found himself nodding in agreement. “I ALMOST KILLED YOUR FUCKING SON, SHIKAKU! ARE YOU DEAD? ARE YOU BRAIN-DEAD?! GET ANGRY! YELL AT ME! BEAT ME UP! SCOWL, CURSE ME, INSULT ME…FUCKING DO SOMETHING! YOU ALMOST HELD YOUR SON’S FUNERAL BECAUSE OF ME! I am the one who killed your 2 best friends, and now I almost killed your son too! Why aren’t you reacting in any way?!” the fire outburst of the girl scared the boy out of his wits, flinching when she slammed her fist on the Shogi  table, breaking it in two, all pieces getting propelled in different directions, as she shouted at the irritatingly-calm man in front of her. “I will do no such thing, Kitsune, because, first of all, I am not mad at you. It was not your fault, I tell you now, the same as I told you before. It wasn’t you who killed your parents, nor was it you who endangered my son. We are all ninjas, and we serve with our lives on the line. Unexpected surprises always happen, and we can’t predict everything, but we can do our best to avoid them.” Shikamaru’s heart was close to bursting with emotions and words that he wanted to let out, as he felt his fingers digging deep into the wood of the sliding door. “I. Almost. Killed. Shikamaru.” The girl hung her head down, prying away her mask and throwing it away in disgust, her long, fire-red hair completely hiding her tear-stained face. “I argued with him. I insulted him. I cursed him. I yelled at him. In the end, he almost died…Because of me. And…It was just like back then. Almost perfectly like back then. They weren’t paying attention, the enemy escaped, he tried to protect me and got hurt…And I got soaked in his blood. My hands was grasping his heart, and I was helping it pump more and more blood…I was helping him breathe…And all I could do was pray…And pray…And pray again…That he won’t end up like them…But I’m selfish, Shikaku. I didn’t think of you, nor that I almost killed your son. I was only thinking about my own self.  I’m selfish and I don’t deserve him.” Her voice become so soft, so broken, as she trembled and sobbed in her hands, not being able to stop the flow of tears and emotions from running astray. “Kitsune…Shikamaru doesn’t hate you, nor is he blaming you for what happened. Stop blaming yourself for things that were inevitable. The most important thing is that you were able to save him and bring him back home safely.” His father sighed, yet his eyes were looking with understanding at the pitiful girl – He knew very well the heartbreak of loss and he didn’t wish it upon anyone, especially such a sensitive young girl. “Scrub it off. Clean it off. Take it off. Claw it off. Rip it off. Saw it off. Carve it off. Rinse it off. Wash it off. Cut it off...That’s the only thing that kept going through my mind, over and over and over again, and I couldn’t stop it! Just like back then...I couldn’t control it. I swore I was going crazy. I was sure he was going to die, and I would remain with his blood on my hands for ages, no matter how hard I’d try to wash it off or even burn away the skin on my hands.” she was shaking so much now, digging her claw-like nails deep into her arms, dragging down and scratching her skin, almost giving herself a sort of comfort, knowing she was still alive, and so was Shikamaru. ”You have nobody’s blood on your hands, Kitsune, understand that. It wasn’t you who killed your parents, no matter how you put it. You tried to save them, but they were beyond saving from anyone. There was nothing you could have done.” Shikaku tried to remind the catatonic girl once again. “…If Shikamaru dies, all the people I ever loved won’t be on this Earth anymore…So there is no reason to live anymore…No matter what, Shikamaru, out of all the people in the world, MUST live. If he gets in danger again, I think I’ll go insane.” She gritted her teeth as her hands made her way into her hair, gripping at it painfully, until the whole world stopped – And once again, time and space were absent from this house –

“I think he feels the same about you.” Shikaku smiled, seeing his son frowning at the girl from behind the door, and motioning to him to get out of there and take the reigns properly, like a man. “What would you know?!” she sneered at him, snapping her head up, only to see the man getting up to leave, and, to her surprise, a pair of arms sneaking around her, pulling her into a tight hug from behind. It was the deer boy, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

“You’re such a troublesome woman, you know that, right? When I said you were going to scold me, I was hoping you’d do that. I hoped it would help you relax and vent away your frustrations. I never imagined you’d get so upset over it. Sorry I screwed up your plan, neither of us were paying attention to our target…We were worried about you so we were looking at you…I’m sorry.” He spoke in the most sincere voice she ever heard him speaking, and she couldn’t help but start crying again, turning around and letting herself melt in his embrace, burying her face into his chest and gripping tightly at his shirt. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I screwed up everything – From 6 years ago, to even now, I’m so sorry, Shika. I should have told you everything, but I couldn’t and I screwed up everything.” She kept apologizing over and over, but the boy couldn’t understand why, so instead of saying anything, he cupped her face and placed a short, yet very soft and sweet kiss on her lips, hoping to snap her out of it. “Stop blaming yourself for nothing. I won’t die, and you won’t die, okay? We’re the smartest people around, I’m sure we can screw with everyone. Just the two of us, together. Now, come on, get up, fox girl. It’s getting late, and mum’s gonna yell at me if we don’t go eat dinner while it’s still hot. Let’s find you some comfy clothes.” He helped her get up and guided her to his room, giving her a loose white Tshirt and some comfy pants. “Well…I guess I make even leisure clothes look fashion.” She admired herself in the mirror, posing and grinning in amusement, making the boy chuckle. “Yeah, ‘course you do. But, before that…Here. It just wouldn’t be fair if I was the only one wearing one.” Saying that, Shikamaru took out a deer necklace from his pocket and put it around her slender neck, before taking his own fox necklace from under his shirt, and letting it dangle out to compliment hers. “…Haha, you kept it. How nice. I don’t know about you, but if you ask me, we can’t get more soulmate-y than that.” She chuckled, squishing his cheeks and pulling him into a deep kiss that was more playful than anything, yet still dazed him a bit, as he let himself get dragged to the kitchen where his parents were waiting for them. They smiled at each other seeing the two teenagers smiling so carefree, so happy at each other – And those symbolic animal necklaces, almost dangling towards each other, like Yin tried to get closer to Yang, and vice versa. “Tomorrow, we are SO going to go and make fun of Ino and Sakura for being obsessed over Sasuke, when we have the perfect relationship right here! Ha! They’re gonna be so jealous!” she smirked mischievously, and the boy could only shake his head, but chuckle at her nonetheless. “What did I get myself into…You troublesome woman.” He nudged her playfully, and it was one of the first times that anyone around saw him not so lazy. “Fine, fine, we can go to BBQ after with Choji, if you want. Sounds fair enough, doesn’t it? My treat.” She flashed him a charming smile, and he could only shrug in agreement. “You’ll get broke, but you said it, can’t take it back now. You clearly forgot how much Choji eats.” Shikamaru teased her, but she only smirked wider. “I lived as a bounty hunter for years before I got back, Shikamaru. I could buy a villa right now. I’m sure I can afford a meal for my friends.” She flipped her hair and winked playfully at the boy next to her.

The next day, just as promised, she dragged her new boyfriend around to brag about him and how awesome he is, and all that, all while he would just blush and grumble in the background, but at least the BBQ hang out was fun and they had a good laugh, as all friends do.

When all was over, she had him go by to her home to get a neatly wrapped, big gift from her living room, and then went back to his home, before handing him the present.

“Here, open it. It’s not the best…But I’m sorry for my outburst. It was uncalled for, and I’m really, really sorry for destroying it. This…This was my parents’ Shogi table and…You should have it. And my parents were best friends with your parents…So yeah. Please take it. And I’m sorry again.” She urged him to open it already, and inside, as she mentione, a beautiful Shogi table, on the back of it, her parents names being carved, inside a heart. “O-Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. You can have your dad shave it off, cover it, or something, I don’t mind. It’s yours now.” She awkwardly scratched the back of her head,  but the boy merely shook his head. “No, it’s perfect as it is. Come on, why don’t we go out in the forest? I’m sure you want to see the deer.” He carefully placed the Shogi table on his futon and guided her out. “And we can watch the stars in your garden tonight?” she smiled at him sweetly. “Yeah, sure, we can do that. Sounds nice.”

[h2bakugou]

confrontation | shoto todoroki

a/n: i’m back, sorry for taking a bit of a break, life has been crazy lately lmao, anyways, this was requested by a lovely anon, hope you guys like it!!

summary: while on a patrol, endeavor spots a young U.A. student getting reprimanded by her mother. endeavor steps in, and that's where he meets you, unknowingly, his son’s girlfriend.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, angst?, fluff

wordcount: 1.6k

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

U.A. was amazing. Granted, you were doing your best, you couldn't help but slip up a few times. It wasn’t anything detrimental, but your mom was constantly on your back about it.

So you’d gotten a B- on your history test. You’d been sick that week, and missed some of the notes. Thanks to Todoroki, he’d caught you up as much as he could. 

You still felt bummed out about your grade, knowing your mom wouldn’t be too happy about you almost getting a C.

- - -

You sat at the metal table outside the small restaurant, your mother sitting across from you holding your most recent progress report. She was carefully going over every little grade that had been inputted, a growing frown sat on her lips.

“This is disappointing.” She muttered, folding the paper back up, handing it to you.

“An 80? Are you serious?” Your mother scolded you before she took a sip of her tea. You looked away, embarrassed. She had raised her voice significantly.

“You’re enrolled into U.A. God (y/n), I thought you were better than this. Honestly, your father would be so disappointed.” She was blowing it out of proportion. So you’d missed a few questions on a quiz, you can study and do better next time.

“Mom it’s not that big of a deal-”

“You’re going to fail that class, and then I’ll have to pull you from U.A. and send you to some normal high school. Is that what you want?” Your mother threatened.

“No mom I’m-”

Endeavor had heard enough. Someone aspiring to be a hero shouldn’t have to worry about a bad grade. Sure, they were important, but she was doing well, an 80 wasn’t something to be frowned upon.

The large flame covered man walked over to the table and took note of the girl wearing the U.A. uniform.

“An aspiring young hero, it’s great to see a new generation of those.” Endeavor spoke. You knew the man. He was your boyfriend’s dad. I guess you could cross off meeting his parents.

“Hi Endeavor, sir!” You smiled.

“She won’t get anywhere with grades like those. I’m honestly surprised she’s still allowed to go there.”

“If you don’t mind, could I see?” Endeavor knew that tone. He used to scold his children, only wanting them to do their best, leaving no time for failure. But he was trying. Trying to be a better dad, and a better hero.

He understood that you can’t always do your best, but you could always try your best.

You handed the flame hero your progress report and he scanned over it. He took note of your class. Class 1-A.

“You’re doing excellent work. I saw you at the sports festival, you’ve got quite the quirk, young lady.” Endeavor gave you a small smile. He glanced at your mom before placing the paper back down on the table.

“You can’t seriously be congratulating her work! She’s doing horrible-”

“It’s not always easy to do your best, but you can always try your best. I’m assuming Miss (l/n) is trying.” Endeavor looked at your mom. Was he defending you?

You wished Todoroki was here right now. You wondered if he’d believe you if you told him his dad stood up for you. 

“I’ve been studying with a close friend. He’s been a lot of help lately.” You smiled. 

“Studying with a boy? Oh yeah, of course, another distraction-”

“I think Miss (l/n) is doing well with the chances she’s been given. I’m sure she’ll have no trouble getting those grades up. And as a parent, I know that it’s important to encourage our children.” Endeavor knew that he was long overdue in the child encouragement department, for all of his kids.

He’d been pretty shitty, but he was trying. While he might’ve been years overdue, he still wanted what was best for his kids, and he hoped they could see that he was indeed trying.

“I don’t follow.” Your mother pouted, looking at you with a frown. She gathered her things and stood up from the table.

“I’m going to be late for work. I’m disappointed in you, don’t make me waste another lunch break over your foolishness.” Your mother insulted you before walking away.

You sat quietly in your seat not bothering to watch as she left.

Endeavor sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder.

Encourage your kids to do their best.

“You’re doing great, kid. Keep up the good work.” He patted your shoulder before looking up at the restaurant. 

“Uhm, Endeavor, sir?” You stood up, holding your progress report in your hands.

“I kind of need a signature to turn this in, and well my mom-”

“I got ya, my son’s in your class I think.” Endeavor chuckled, taking the paper and pen you had in your hands. He signed his name onto the paper, before handing it back to you.

“Thank you. I’m so sorry for my mom. She’s just upset-”

“I understand. She’ll come around.” Endeavor looked at his watch before nodding his head.

“I’ve got to get going now!” Endeavor beamed, still as loud and brooding as always. He was a great hero.

“Go kick those bad guys’ butts!” You cheered. You smiled as he walked off heading off to save the day some more.

- - -

“Hey, Todoroki!” You smiled holding your progress report in your hand. You’d just gotten back to the dorms, it was a little after 2 pm.

“Did you get your report signed?” He smiled softly, looking at you.

“Yeah, honestly if it wasn’t for your dad I’d be in-”

“My dad?” He questioned, looking at you confused. Your cheeks turned red.

“I totally blanked, I’m so sorry-”

“No no, it’s okay, just explain from the top okay?”

“My mom yelled at me a whole bunch for a bad grade in History, and your dad sorta stepped in and saved the day.” You giggled nervously.

“He also signed my progress report.” You opened it to show your boyfriend.

“I guess he’s not always a jerk.” Todoroki smiled softly, happy to see that a run-in with his dad and his girlfriend hadn’t ended terribly.

- - -

“Ah, Shoto it’s great to see you!” Enji’s voice boomed. You were nervous. Todoroki was introducing you to his dad, as his girlfriend.

It’d been about two weeks since the progress report incident, and Todoroki had come to terms that he should probably tell his dad about his relationship, and you seemed happy to finally meet his parents, formally.

Todoroki and you had been dating for a few months now.

“Dad this is my girlfriend, (f/n) (l/n).” Todoroki introduced you as you waved at the red-haired man.

“I recognize you-”

You held up your signed progress report with a smile.

“Nice to formally meet you.” You giggled, your arm interlocked with Todoroki’s.

You were worried he was going to disapprove of you. But instead...

“Ah, my son has an eye for greatness it seems.”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[morimallow]

SFW/ Fluff Alphabet (Suna Rintarou)

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

He is well-aware that he has a salty attitude. Up until now, he still wonders how you can still somehow manage to deal with his shit and stay with him and he adores you for that. Your patience is unfathomable. Whenever he rants about a recent issue regarding him, you can always sound unaffected and not sarcastic when in comes to your responses. He also admires how you respect his privacy and personal space. You would always ask him if he wants to talk about it and when he says no, you'd just stay with him until he's ready or when he gets over it.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Eyes. HE LOVES THE FEELING OF GETTING LOST IN YOUR EYES. It's like he could totally see your feelings for him. He looks at it to know whether or not you're lying, to know if you're joking, and to prepare himself if he sees your eyes getting glossy or maybe he just looks at it because ✨force of habit✨. AND YOUR SQUISHY CHEEKS. He likes to pinch them whenever you're within his reach because.. well, he just wants some sort of physical contact? Plus you're really cute.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Spooning. He doesn't want you to see that faint smile of his after he kisses your hair and shoulder once you settled against him. He loves your satisfied sigh when he lightly rubs your skin, his breathing lulling you to sleep. If you're just chilling on the couch though, he likes to snake one arm around your waist then he starts playing with your tummy like a fidget something.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Classic stay-at-home date. He doesn't want other people to meddle with your time together because he knows for a fact that someone from his team EHEM, TSUM-TSUM, EHEM always goes out and there's this possibility that you'd bump into him with girls swarming around him. Experimenting Osamu's recipes! He loves it when you appreciate things he does. Then after you'd just cuddle while watching horror movies.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

We all know he ain't verbal unless he's spouting insults so he's more into actions. Simple things like holding the door for you, bringing you lunch when it's near exams (he'd sometimes pull you to the cafeteria for a breather), and a silent trip with him walking you to your home. He isn't expressive either so you'd just have to decipher what his feelings are by looking at his eyebrows.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Hush, he maybe low-key probably theoretically might like babies. Doesn't mind if it's a girl or boy, he'd teach them how to roast someone. Plus just the thought of you holding your baby makes his heart go doki-doki. AFTER MARRIAGE, OF COURSE.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

He used to think of it as a waste of time and money but now it's more like a way to say he cares about you. He buys you things you need like ink refills when he notices your pen nearly out of ink. He doesn't spoil you that much with material things because he knows you're already satisfied.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

The typical you'd-get-lost-and-it-would-be-hard-for-me-to-find-you-and-it's-too-much-work typa guy when you go out. He does creep his hand towards yours when you're alone but there are also times he just wants to link your pinkies because he finds it cute? Occasionally kisses your knuckles when you take a break from studying. He'd tap his thumb multiple times on the back of your palm before games and you'd tap back two times as a good luck.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

If it's a minor one and he can just patch it up, he'd be silent, just making one-word commands as he takes care of you. Once done, he'd call you stupid can't you say “be careful next time” like a normal person and kiss your forehead after flicking it. If it's an accident in school, he'd be the one to take you to the clinic or if he's out, he'd have your friends reporting to him.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

YOU WOULDN'T REALIZE IT'S A JOKE. He considers himself funny though because his team laughs when he insults the twins but he realizes it's different with you. It's kinda like this: he asks you a question with his usual serious face, “What do you call a pony with a cough?” Silence. “A little hoarse.” He'd suppress his laugh because he really thinks it's funny but you just give him an unimpressed look.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Light. Feathery. Ones. On your forehead, nose, cheeks after he pinches it, side of your mouth. Even his pecks feel like one, long, passionate kiss. Keeps his kisses short and simple unless you show him signs of you-know-what. Likes to kiss the back of your head while he squishes your face with one hand.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Hugs. Plenty of them. It's a way of saying you're safe with him and he won't do anything to hurt you. Smothers you with kisses from time to time when he feels like you need reassurance. He takes care of you. He leaves a glass of water on your bedside table so you wouldn't have to walk in the dark.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

That time after one of the games when you came up to him and shamelessly kissed him in front of the whole team. He was frozen like the rest of them and they swore they saw him smile a bit as you smile up to him while playing with his hair.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Fears that one day, he won't hear your satisfied sigh when you're settled against him. That would mean he's not your safe space anymore and you already tired and uncomfortable.

O = Oddity (what quirk/s do they have?)

He likes to believe that cracking knuckles can release stress. After an argument, whenever he studies, he cracks his knuckles.

He says ‘I love you’ back ALWAYS. He's always conveying his feelings through actions so the least he could do is to reply to your I love you's. Even if he's already near dream land, he'd still say it back.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

He usually sticks with “oi” but ehem, he likes to call you by sickly.. icky.. weak-to-the-knees endearments with that hot voice of his HAVE YOU HEARD HIM IN EPISODE 14 I WAS SCREAMING. He saves the darling, sweetheart, honey, boo when it's just the two of you but calls you by your cute nickname followed by baby when he wants to flaunt you.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

NAP DATES. NAP DATES. NAP DATES. NAP DATES. NAP DATES. NAP DATES. NAP DATES. YOU'RE HIS CHARGING STATION. YOU. ARE. HIS. REST. MAKING BULALO (I think it's called beef bone marrow stew in English???) IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT JUST BECAUSE. Drowsy kisses just because also. (╥﹏╥)

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

The Simple Things by Michael Carreon because... just listen to it.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

ABSOLUTE TRUST. Y'all are faithful and respect each other's privacy. If he doesn't wanna talk about it then no. If he does, then you'll listen. If you ask him something that's been bothering you like seeing him and one of his classmates walking through the school gates together while you're outside waiting, he'll explain. No arguments. He knows you're there for him and you know he won't tell you anything if he knows he can handle it himself. You're fine. He's fine.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Probably 2-3 months? He was whipped when you snapped at him. Man, his mind was blank. No rebuttals. Took him a week to confess to you then y'all started dating but you made it official by attending one of his games.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He'll buy you your comfort foods. Lightly squeezes your shoulder while you rant about the reason you're upset. OVERALL, HE WON'T TALK BECAUSE THIS IS ABOUT YOU AND YOU ALONE. Would probably do everything you make him do because you're upset. Keeps his nasty remarks when you're feeling better.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

Either he won't talk about you or presents you to everyone with a smug look on his face, he's never in between. He is rather proud about you and your achievements because he's seen you through the process of it all. PROUD BOYFRIEND.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

If it's a physical fight, he'd fight behind you because he knows you can handle it. If some bastard harasses you, he'd fight for you. If it's a mental battle, he'd fight beside you. He knows you're strong but that doesn't mean you have to go through it alone.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Very, very well. Slight movement of your eyebrows and he knows you're uncomfortable. When you bite your lower lip, he knows you're gonna cry. With simple hand gestures, he knows you're hiding something. He's just very observant and he wants you to know that he knows what you're implying without even a word. One smirk, and you're pranking Atsumu the next second.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Asks you to marry him out of the blue. On your couch. With matching fuzzy socks, fox slippers, and satin pyjamas. While sipping on your hot beverage. Honestly so sweet, you can't change my mind.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Your gentle hand on his cheek and your soft gaze. Plus ice pops.

NSFW Alphabet (Suna Rintaro)

M. List

[grayson1996]

You Have to Let Me Go

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34210816

No. 1 All trussed up and still nowhere to go.

"You have to let go" | Barbed Wire |Bound

Unlike what most people assumed, the cave was not usually a quiet place.

How could it be, when each one of Bruce’s children would filter in and out throughout the day and night. To ask questions, to spar, to prepare for patrol. Each inhabitant of the manor came with their own soundtrack that when put together created a familiar and comforting symphony.

Damian was the sound of quiet purposeful footfalls, followed by the scurrying steps of a small animal trailing dutifully after him. He was small huffs of breath made out of annoyance or interest (or amusement if it was a good day). The metallic sound of a sword being drawn out of it’s sheath, followed by the dull thud of it striking one of the many wooden posts in the training area. When Damian first appeared at the Manor he had been like a ghost, gliding along and hiding in the corners of rooms and the sides of hallways. The League believed that their assassins should neither be seen nor heard. The sound was a relief to Bruce, an outward sign of his youngest growth.

Cassandra, like Damian, was taught to be silent. Deadly quiet. And to this day Bruce couldn’t hear her coming and was often spooked by her sudden appearance, much to her amusement. But she too had her own trills. The sound of the skin on her hands rubbing together as they signed to whoever was nearest to her. A breathy chuckle, usually in response to something done by Stephanie or Dick. The awful sound of knuckles cracking striking through the cave. Despite Alfred's reasoning that it would cause arthritis Cass wouldn’t stop and frankly Bruce thought the twitch that appeared above his surrogate Father’s eyes when it happened was hilarious.

Tim was the slurping of coffee, and the rumblings of an empty stomach. He was the quick typing of a keyboard, and the distracting tapping of his foot against the side of the computer console. People thought that Dick was the most fidgety of his children, but it was Tim. Though true that Dick enjoyed moving, his movement was always purposeful. While Tim’s seem to flick out of him sporadically and without much thought. Tim was also the most spatially unaware of his children, though whether that was from lack of grace or just sleep deprivation was anyone’s guess. It wasn’t uncommon to be alerted of his approach by the sound of something being knocked over or of a quiet curse being uttered after stubbing his toe on the stairs.

Jason perhaps contributed to the symphony of the cave the least, though thankfully his presence had become more and more common in the years since his resurrection. The sounds he made were purposeful and designed to annoy. The sound of chips being crunched by an open mouth during a mission report. A scoff at the end of an order or request. And on bad days the sound of arguing, of things being thrown and property being destroyed. But on softer days it was more comforting. The crinkle of a packet of cigarettes in his back pocket being smushed as he leaned against the computer console. Leather rubbing against leather as he crossed his arms. A quiet ‘thank you’ to Alfred after being handed a cup of tea. Or even a softly sarcastic ‘See ya old man’ if Bruce managed to get through an interaction without pissing him off.

All these sounds, these beautiful little noises that told Bruce his children were home, were safe. All of these sounds were gone from the cave. As he sat alone, staring blankly in front of him at the black computer screen. Half dressed in a torn and ripped Batsuit, his cowl and gloves having been discarded at some point. It was a space he hadn’t left for nearing three days much to his family's chagrin and thinly veiled concern. At the end of the first day he had locked them out, pushing back the familiar feeling of guilt as he did so.

He wasn’t sure if he was punishing himself. Perhaps he deserved this, deserved to be denied the comforting presence of his children, and deserved the oppressing quiet? Or perhaps he just didn’t have the energy to get up from this spot, to do anything. Perhaps it was easier to just sit here alone in the dark and quiet, because moving seemed impossible at the moment.

Usually when he sequestered himself away from any stimuli or love, he would be hounded by his thoughts. He would allow them to fester and devour his happiness, and drain him of anything resembling hope. He would allow himself to feel as awful as possible, because he deserved to tear himself up from the inside out.

Now however his thoughts were blank, deafened by the silence as though he were wearing noise cancelling headphones and his thoughts were the outside world. It was all blank, silent, there was nothing except him and his chair and the blank screen in front of him.

Then a warm hand gently placed itself on his shoulder.

“They’re worried about you.” Bruce let out a heavy sigh.

“I know.”

“I’m worried about you too.”

“I’m fine.” A snort of disbelief followed his statement.

“Clearly.”

“Why are you here?” The silence grew again and for a moment the hand began to retreat.

“I can go if you’d like?”

“NO!” Bruce spun around in his chair and reaching out he grabbed the tan hand and held it tightly in his grip. His son raised an eyebrow but did not retreat further.

“Alright I won’t.” Sitting down on the ground next to him, Dick’s gaze did not move from Bruce. “You look like shit.” Despite himself Bruce let out a huff of amusement, and felt warmth as Dick grinned back in triumph. “Seriously, take a shower B and get out of those clothes. You know Alfred’s upstairs dying to get you a proper meal.” Bruce shook his head, his grip tightening around Dick’s hand.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can, all you have to do is stand up and put one foot in front of the other.” Bruce shook his head again.

“I can’t leave you.” Dick let out a heavy breath, and his eyes softened at the admission.

“You can’t stay down here forever B.” Bruce felt his chest tighten and his gaze quickly flickered over to the med bay where the curtain was drawn.

“I’m not ready.”

“Bruce-”

“ I’m not ready.” His tone was stern and for a moment Dick’s eyes narrowed, much like they had when the two were younger and always at each other’s throats. When it was just the two of them and neither knew how to be a Father or a Son. But just as quickly Dick’s face smoothed over, changing into something kinder then pity. Empathy perhaps.

“Okay, you’re not ready. But at least let the others down here Bruce. Isolating yourself like this, keeping them locked out and grieving on their own? It’s not kind B, you should all be together.” There was truth in his son’s words but still Bruce couldn’t let himself get up and see his other children. Because to see them, to let them in and to acknowledge what had happened meant that it was over. It meant that Dick was dead, and all that remained was his body now being kept cool in the medbay so that it didn’t begin to decompose.

And if Dick was dead then what the hell did that mean for Bruce, for the rest of them?

Dick was the one to calm Damian down after yet another fight with Bruce. Dick had been the one to soften the boy, raise him even. Damian didn’t deserve to lose the man. Didn’t deserve to lose the kindest person in his life.

Dick was the one to pull Tim away from the computer screen when he was going on his 3rd night of no sleep. To pry his phone out of his brother's hand, and tuck the boy into bed. He was the only one who could get away with treating Tim like a child. He was the only one who could get away with showing Tim love, without the boy recoiling in uncomfortableness.

Dick was the one who brought Jason back. Maybe not back to life but to the family for sure. Dragging the man in after him for a family dinner, pushing Jason to the table and breaking the tension with a quip or bad joke.

Dick was the one who brought Cass to her first dance lesson, and encouraged Stephanie to get her Masters, and got Alfred to take a break and join them for movie nights.

Dick was the one who had given Bruce hope again. Dick was love, Dick was family, Dick was goodness and righteousness and fury and passion. And all of sudden he was gone, with little fanfare or reason. He was just…. gone.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this chum.” Dick shrugged his shoulders, a small smile on his face.

“You just do it Bruce. You just get up and move forward. It sucks and I’m sorry but sitting here alone is only going to make it worse… and it’s only going to make them resent you.” Bruce knew he didn’t deal with death well. It was obvious in the black eye Dick sported after Jason’s death, in his anger after Damian’s. His whole life was built around it, and while he loved what he and his family had created as Batman, part of him hated it as well.

“I’m not a man who can change Dick…. It’s not something I ever learned how to do.” The confession was quiet and Bruce felt uncomfortable by the unusual genuineness of his words. Dick chuckled and shook his head incredulously.

“Of course it takes me dying to finally get you to open up.” The words were said without any scorn but it still caused something heavy to settle in Bruce’s gut. Dick however continued. “You have to grieve Bruce, you can’t push this away and ignore it. You have to let yourself grieve, and you have to let the others do it to. And it will suck and it will be hard and some days you won’t want to say my name because you just can’t . And some days you’ll forget for a moment that I’m not gone, and you’ll go to call me or turn to talk to me and then you’ll remember. And it will hit you like a brick.” Dick smiled sadly at him. “And it will be especially hard because you have lost a lot of people in your life but you haven’t let yourself experience that loss”

“ I can’t do this Dick . I’ll break.” Dick shook his head.

“So you let yourself break. And then you do what anyone who has lost someone does, you put yourself back together.”  Dick sat up from the ground and moved to kneel in front of Bruce. Placing both his hands on his Father’s knees. “I can be there for them Bruce you have to be, which means you have to let go. You have to let go of me and let yourself fall, and trust trust that you’ll be able to get back up again.”

Maybe it was because this was all happening in his mind. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation and lack of food and water. Maybe it was because looking at Dick all he could see was the little boy who over 20 years ago first taught him how to actively live life again. Maybe it was the knowledge that the same little boy was now lying several feet away, dead. Whatever it was Bruce knew that he needed to do things differently.

Jason’s death had felt like a punishment. Dick’s felt like a lesson.

“I’ll try Dick… I can’t promise that I’ll do it all right, but I’ll try.” Dick smiled and standing up he pulled Bruce into a deep hug. The arms seemed less real then they had before, but the warmth and love was obvious. “....I’m going to miss you Chum.” A small huff of amusement brushed the top of Bruce's head.

“I love you too B.”

[listentothelittlebird]

TW: dissociative episode

This was a whole scrapped oneshot, mostly because I couldn’t fit it in properly... I misread something on a wikipedia page and somehow ended up with “Jason revisited Ethiopia sometime during the Red Hood and the Outlaws, and had major PTSD”. I’m fairly sure I was sleep deprived at the time... (I’m honestly happy with how this one turned out, but it was just out-of-place with the rest of the other oneshots)

This is a “deleted scene” from my series on ao3, Code Bat! 

It was a quiet, peaceful night, until the comms crackled to life.

“N,” Oracle called, “RH entered Gotham an hour ago. The new Super he befriended brought him in, but he hasn’t moved from his location since. Can you go check on him?”

Nightwing frowned. Jason was in town? 

He was happy to have a chance to see his Little Wing, of course, but this was an unplanned visit. Usually he would at least radio in ahead, and dramatically announce his return by searching for them during patrol time.

Something was wrong.

“R and I are still dealing with the drug ring,” Batman grunted, “We’ll be with you as soon as we can.”

It seemed even the Bat himself was getting worried.

“I’m turning in for the night. BG’s headed towards RH right now. Let me know how he is, alright?” Spoiler paused, before adding, “I can pull an extra patrol or two, if he needs you guys for company. I’m not an official fam’ member, but I’m more than ready to help.”

Nightwing would have hugged Spoiler if she was standing next to him.

Batgirl was already at the rooftop when Nightwing arrived. She was crouched directly in front of Jason - in his Red Hood outfit, skull-like helmet still on his head - and staring. Nightwing had learnt to read Cass’ body language, and right now she was practically screaming concern. She straightened when Nightwing touched down.

“Unresponsive,” she signed, “Alive, but not there. Like the victims we saw last week.”

Nightwing sighed, a rush of air escaping his chest. It was relief mixed in with new pain, because something had happened to his brother for him to shut down. Something had triggered this.

“RH is dissociating,” Nightwing reported to the comms, “BG says he’s unresponsive. B, once you and R are done, get the Batmobile here.”

“We’re on our way,” came Robin’s tight response, crisp and serious but betraying the slightest of quivers.

In the meantime, Nightwing busied himself with removing Jason’s helmet. His face was blank, devoid of his usual snarky grin or unimpressed eye-roll. His chest was rising and falling in slow, mechanical breaths.

“We’ll take care of you, Little Wing,” Nightwing laid a hand gently on his brother’s shoulder, smiling warmly, “Take all the time you need, okay? We’ll be here.”

There was not so much as a twitch to acknowledge his words. Dick’s gut clenched tighter, even having expected the lack of response.

Batgirl had drifted away, standing several steps back. At Nightwing’s questioning glance, she murmured haltingly, “Scary.” She raised her hands to elaborate.

“No body messages. Nothing. Cannot tell what he is thinking, or if he is thinking. I’m scared for him. With other victims, it’s bad. With family...” the next motion was not proper sign language - she made a heart with her hands, then split it. 

It hurt to see family like this.

Nightwing gave a sad, quiet smile in response, and the way he turned back to eye Jason was enough to convey his agreement.

-

Jason came back to himself slowly.

He was never truly gone, not quite. Not for a while, he thinks. 

He’s… not sure about much. Just that he had been able to tell Artemis and Bizarro that he was going to pull a few strings in Gotham to get them a permanent base. 

He remembered fumbling out an address for a safe house that he had, which would be able to last his two teammates for more than a week. He remembered Biz dropping him off in Gotham. He remembered sitting down on the filthy rooftop.

He thinks Batgirl came, then Nightwing. He thinks they helped him into the Batmobile, and he thinks he saw Batman and Robin. 

He… can’t quite recall what happened next. It was like his memories were grinded to a pulp and then drained of substance, leaving behind the crusts of barely-coherent scenes. Flashes of what had happened.

He was in the Batcave, then he was being walked up the stairs to the Manor, one large arm wrapped around his shoulders, one large hand gripping firmly onto his elbow. 

There was the rustling of old paperbacks, distant and distorted, like hearing through water. 

There was Bruce, blue eyes focused on him, gazing at him and murmuring something soft.

“...here for you. You’re safe, Jaylad.”

He felt a sliver of pressure on his face.

Jason blinked. His hand rose to the spot, to where the mildest of pressures were, a calloused hand cupped against his cheek. He blinked two, three times, Bruce’s face morphing into the most genuine of smiles, even as the smell of the library and faint tightness of hunger greeted him.

“B?” Jason croaked, his voice hoarse from something more than dryness. Bruce was still quick to supply him a cup of water. The hand had yet to leave his cheek. Jason, still thrown off and trying to piece together his scattered mind, leaned into the hand even as he downed the glass.

There was a reason his throat felt scratchy. He had been screaming. Screaming at…

By the time Bruce had plucked his empty glass from his hand and set it down, Jason had jolted violently, as the realisation of how he got here, on exactly why he had returned back to Gotham, hit him like a train.

Ethiopia. The rebuilt warehouse. The living nightmare of his latest Outlaws mission.

“B?” Jason’s voice was desperate now. Logically, he knew Bruce was right there. Trying to convince his tortured mind though, as it finally came to terms with what had happened, was not as simple. 

“Dad? Dad…” Jason’s hands reached blindly for Bruce’s arms, scrambling to tighten clenched fists into the fabric of the man’s sweater. Bruce pulled Jason into his chest.

While Jason tried and failed to quell his breakdown, Bruce had maneuvered himself back onto the couch, Jason sat half in his lap and half on the couch. Jason’s arms, tight around his father’s shoulders, loosened as he let out a shaky gasp.

“We - we had a mission,” Jason rambled before he could stop himself, “Artemis was looking for something, and we were helping her look, and-“

“Jay,” Bruce cut in gently, “Don’t force yourself. Please, son.”

Jason, his forehead pressed to Bruce’s shoulder, shook his head even as he barreled on. He had to get this out before his walls went up again, before it became too blissfully peaceful to even broach the subject.

“I- fuck. We went to Ethiopia,” Jason gave a hollow laugh, even as Bruce sucked in a sharp breath of air, “It was fucking hell, B. Pretty sure they were just doing the generic torture shit on me, but they didn’t even need to do anything, really. The location was enough to…to-“ Jason’s voice cracked. There was something wet leaking out of his eyes.

“It looked exactly the same, B. I checked after - it was the same place. It was-“ Jason’s voice gave out for real, then. 

Bruce pulled him tighter, holding his son close as he cried himself dry. Bruce was just glad that Jason had been able to come back to Gotham, that his son was here for him to comfort - was willing to accept that comfort from him still, even after everything that had happened.

“You’re here,” Bruce hushes, when Jason’s sobs had died down to sniffles. He gave the boy - he would forever be a boy in his eyes - a squeeze around his broad shoulders. “You’re here.”

Jason sniffed again, and squeezed back, tight and desperate.

Later, Alfred would enter, guided by his butler senses to bring a meal for Jason. Later, his siblings would check in on him, and Dick would pile everyone into the living room with a movie marathon and a sleepover. Later, Jason would figure out a permanent base of operations for the Outlaws.

For now, it was just a father holding his son, both undeniably grateful to be alive.

-

Jason led Biz and Artemis to an underground bunker at the outskirts of Metropolis. They were right under Superman’s nose, which was both exhilarating and concerning.

He did not fancy meeting any one of Bruce’s colleagues. 

On the other hand, if Superman did stumble upon them someday soon, Bizarro would finally get to meet someone like him. Well, someone who might see him as family, at least. Jason had heard from Tim that Superman was a big-hearted family man that had taken in Kon-El the moment he had trusted the clone.

He hoped Superman would take Bizarro in. The big guy deserved someone else besides him and Artemis.

Speaking of…

“Say, since we’re gonna be working with each other a lot more from now on, can I get insurance that you won’t take a swing at Wonder Woman while I’m in the collateral damage zone?” 

Artemis glared at him, but Jason had weathered Bat-glares, and this was nothing compared to the man. His helmet was off, so she could see his smirk, his red domino stretching as he raised an eyebrow. 

“I’d have thought you’d be on better terms with the lady. I mean, she’d gladly offer you any support you need,” Jason pointed out.

Artemis huffed, “Themyscira should have done more to aid my tribe. They still have yet to do more to aid my tribe. As Diana is a representative of her people, my grudge is against her tribe, and not her personally. Truthfully, Diana saved my life, and I am grateful for that.”

Jason hummed contemplatively. “Well, you should be a bridge between the two tribes,” Jason thought aloud, “Just saying, you basically became your tribe’s champion by getting back the Bow of Ra. If anyone could get them more aid, it’d be you.”

He could tell that the Amazonian needed time to think on his words, so instead of continuing. Jason splayed his arms, “Besides, sweet-talking gets you places!” 

It was implied that such was how he had gotten their base, but the circumstances were probably far from what Artemis assumed. All Jason had needed to do was talk over conversations during dinner and Bruce was showing him possible locations even before patrol rotations had begun.

Artemis latched onto the new topic, regarding their new base with a satisfied tilt to her head, “What were those connections that you managed to find? Gotham is one place in Man’s World that I have yet to understand.”

“Eh, you learn to deal with the city’s fuckery. Like I said, I just had some old strings that I could pull to get us here,” Jason shrugged, and paused for a moment. Everything had been moving a mile and minute, from when Jason had first met Artemis to when they and Bizarro became a team.

He had neglected to tell them his name. Not that Bizarro needed his name, since he even called Artemis Red Her, but Artemis herself had always referred to Jason as Red Hood or Red.

“Jay.” 

At Artemis’ questioning glance, Jason huffed, “It’s my name, I guess. Close enough.”

It was the name the Titans, Roy and Kori, knew him by. Artemis and Bizarro were shaping up to be his second round of Outlaws, and he wanted them to have his trust, too.

There was a weighty glint in Artemis’ eyes. “It is an honour to work with you, Jay,” she stated solemnly.

Jason cracked a grin, “Aw, c’mon, don’t go all mushy on me. Let’s go get Biz before he ransacks the whole pantry.”

He turned to head in Bizarro’s direction, his loud rummaging making Jason glad he had chosen to put them significantly low underground. Artemis trailed behind with a warm smile.

[dcbbw]

Six Sentence Sunday January 3, 2021

I haven’t posted a Six Sentence Sunday in forever! Fortunately, for the first Sunday of 2021, I have managed to get words and thoughts out of my head and onto paper (or screen).

Everything is under the cut (and it’s a little bit of a lot)

The Life We Lived, Chapter 3:

His wife nodded and reached over into his plate to grab his fish sandwich. She wasn’t a fan of the seafood, but it was deep fried, and the bread was loaded with mayo, lettuce, tomato, onions, and jalapenos. It looked delicious.

She was on her third bite when her husband returned. His eyes widened in disbelief at seeing both of Riley’s hands gripping half his sub sandwich, mayonnaise dripping from her lips. Without a word, he sat down, pulled her beef lo mein in front of him. and began eating it.

“What did Thomas want? Is the job offer at the firm still open?” Riley licked her lips before taking another hearty bite.

Liam twirled flavorful noodles around the tines of his fork before spearing tender pieces of beef. His expression was thoughtful when he looked at his wife. “He offered me a case, but it isn’t immigration. It’s criminal. Murder.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “You’re not a criminal attorney.”

“I know enough to be a public defender,” Liam argued. “And it’s pretty open and shut. Apparently, the accused is admitting guilt; they just want to not get the death penalty or life with no chance of parole.”

Riley snatched her beef lo mein away from Liam; she shoveled a huge forkful in her mouth. “How much?” she asked suspiciously.

Liam’s eyes held hers. “One million even.”

Riley choked on her food. “What the FUCK?? When do you start?”

Liam chuckled softly before leaning over and kissing Riley with the slightest hint of tongue. “Not so fast, there. That’s a lot of money from a person admitting they’re guilty of murder, of all things. Which makes me think there’s more here than meets the eye.”

Riley nodded slowly. “So, you’re gonna think about it?” she asked hopefully.

Untitled #WackyDrabble #76:

The King stood at his study’s window, his dark eyes peering up at an even darker sky. He held a glass of scotch in one hand; he absent-mindedly shook it, causing amber liquid to swirl gently. In his other hand, he held a black velvet ring box. His eyes left the starry sky to look down at the box.

Inside was a symbol of his devotion, loyalty, and commitment. That he would slide onto his fiancée’s finger tomorrow morning.

He would have a wife. Cordonia would have a Queen.

Except Cordonia was an exacting mistress, not easily appeased. Demands for an heir would soon follow, then a spare would be required.

This wasn’t supposed to be my life.

With a sigh, Liam tucked the jewelry box into his suit jacket pocket before closing the curtains; he turned away from the window and sank into the chocolate leather of his oversized chair. His eyes roamed over his desk: personal photographs, stacks of paperwork divided by progress and priority, a Bible of the Orthodox Church.

He lifted his head at a knock on the door; hope and eagerness flooded his body as he called for his visitor to enter. It fled as quickly as it came when he saw who his visitor was.

White Sock Fuckery (SGL Ask):

The October evening was damp and chilly. Streetlamps glowed pale yellow against the night. The heavy rain that had drenched the nation’s capital from sunrise to sunset had finally eased into a light mist. The few leaves left on the trees lining Rhode Island Avenue at Logan Circle were bent and downward facing with the weight of moisture.

A figure slid from the vehicle double parked in the street, a large bag filled with purchases clutched in one hand. They didn’t turn around to watch the vehicle drive away; they were too busy searching for keys. With an audible gasp of relief, fingers pulled out a keyring and the person entered the building.

In the lobby of the apartment complex, the person headed directly up the stairs to Unit #2. The hall was quiet, the lighting dim. More keys were inserted into locks, and the person was inside. They leaned against the closed front door, exhaling a sigh as they inhaled patchouli and the faint smell of cigarette smoke. Their eyes traveled quickly over the darkened rooms.

Unopened wine bottles on the kitchen counter, remote control tossed carelessly on the sofa, a pile of laundry tossed atop the stacked washer/dryer.

Still clutching the bag, the person traveled the short hallway that led to the bedroom. Flipping a switch filled the somewhat spacious area with bright light. Tossing the bag on the bed, the person went to the chest of drawers placed in the exact center between two of the room’s four windows. A quick glance at their watch informed them they had 15 minutes before their ride returned.

Pulling the top drawer open, the person’s eyes widened in a hybrid of horror, disbelief, and humor.

What the actual fuck?

Dress Up (SGL x Riley B Kinktober ask)

“You know I wouldn’t do anything you’re not ready for,” he assured her. “But I think we’re both ready for something. Let’s call it a tension breaker.”

“Tension breaker?” Riley arched a brow as her arms circled his neck.

“It has to be done,” Liam affirmed as his lips pulled hers into a deep kiss.

When they parted a full minute later, Liam whispered in her ear. “I want to touch your body, Riley B.”

Riley looked at him with eyes dark with desire and clouded with wariness. “No sex!”

“I know,” Liam nodded.

“You think I’m silly. And I probably am, but …”

Liam shook his head. “No. You’ve been hurt. I’m fine with going slowly. I just need you to remember I’m not those other guys. I’m not gonna dump you in Target or pop in for 15 minutes of your time every six months like Bootycall Keith.”

Riley kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you. I just … I wanna get it right this time.”

“Me too.” His fingers raked through her hair.

“And it’s Keith the Bootycall. Like Chance the Rapper.”

Liam rolled his eyes as he shrugged out of his shirt; he didn’t see why he had to get that scrub’s name right.

Sunday Bruch, Chapter 10

Olivia ate a hearty forkful of her roasted quail and root vegetable casserole. “Hamid wanted to join us, but I thought it best that this luncheon be girls only.”

Riley looked at her confused. “Why? I’d love to meet the man who took you away from Court.”

Olivia set her fork down; she leaned across the table so she and Riley were practically nose to nose. “First, no one took me away from Court. I am still very much a member; I just choose not to socialize with you heathens. Second, you’re pregnant with no idea who the father is. You don’t want this to become an international scandal! You do realize Hamid has his own kingdom to oversee? And he can be a Chatty Cathy with an especially … juicy tidbit.”

Riley nodded as Olivia pulled away. A pale hand swept across her crimson locks before the Duchess of Lythikos brought a wine glass to her lips.

“So, what are you going to do?”

Riley shrugged as she scooped venison, rice, and gravy. “Honestly, I don’t know. I want to stay with Maxwell. Thinking all the men have brown hair; all of us except Maxwell have brown eyes. Maybe Max is the dad by default?”

Olivia blinked. This woman cannot be this fucking stupid! She lightly cleared her throat.

“How were you ever Queen?” Olivia huffed. “You do know none of these men look alike, right? As much as I love a good drama, the smart thing … the responsible thing to do is to have a DNA test done. Then sit down and have a talk with Maxwell and the child’s father.”

“NO!” Riley exclaimed, bits of food flying from her mouth. “I can’t do that! That’s just … out of the question!”

“You should have thought of that before having a threesome with Drake Walker and Rashad Domvallier.”

“It was just something to do,” Riley muttered.

“Now it’s become someone to raise.” Olivia sliced into a savory yam. “THIS is why I no longer come around. You people are a circle jerk of messy sex and share relationships. I have found keeping your circle small helps keep your hole tight.”

Untitled Laxwell:

In the kitchen, he found his lover sitting in the dark at the  dining table. The flipping of the light switch revealed a decanter of scotch sat beside him, and a glass of the liquor was in front of him. His blue eyes lifted long enough to take in his boyfriend’s slightly disheveled countenance.

“Rain wake you up?’ he asked as he took a swallow of his drink.

Liam shook his head, frowning slightly. Maxwell wasn’t a drinker; he wanted to be, but the most the younger Beaumont could handle was a glass of wine. Two, at most. Anything more or something stronger went to his head immediately. And Maxwell tended to be a belligerent drunk, his ire fueled by jealousy.

Liam sat down cautiously across from his boyfriend.

“What are you doing up? And drinking?”

Maxwell shrugged while tugging at his wrinkled tee shirt. “Thinking.”

“About what?”

Maxwell said nothing as he picked up his glass to drink more scotch.

“How many glasses have you had?” Liam asked suspiciously.

“This is my second.”

“So, what are you thinking about that has you up in the middle of the night, drinking scotch?”

Liam settled back in his chair, outstretching his arm so his hand covered Maxwell’s .A slight smile quickly flickered across the young Lord’s lips. When he raised his face to look at Liam, his expression was blank but his eyes sad.

“My mother.” It was simply said, but Liam knew the pain that lay behind the two words.

Untitled JGL one-shot:

One night, soon after Liam Rys started, I found myself staying late to help out the accounting team. Quarterly reports were coming up which meant every broker needed their monthly numbers. Of course, a good broker keeps their own numbers, but with Barthelemy as Managing Director, there are no good brokers.

Just a bunch of good old boy club members who like to smoke cigars, drink liquor, and grope tits.

And then there are the rest of us.

I run the numbers for my team and go to drop Liam’s reports off at his desk; when I reach his cubicle, I stop short. It’s after 8 pm, and he is hunched over his desk. His cheeks are flushed, he’s  gnawed his lower lip raw, and wears a scowl of vexation on his face.

“What are you still doing here?” I ask as I lay the reports in his inbox.

His dark eyes glance up at me before falling back down to the computer screen. “I have to put together a portfolio for a new client by tomorrow morning. Came straight from the Managing Director.”

“And it has you looking like that?”

“He has very specific stocks he wants to invest in, but none of them are going to give the client the yield the MD insists upon.”

I roll my eyes and hold out my hand to see the mock portfolio. With a sigh, Liam passes it to me before leaning back in his chair. He rubs his eyes, and glances at the clock. He pulls open a desk drawer and grabs an apple.

I look around for a place to sit in the small cubicle, but there isn’t any. Liam’s bicycle takes up all the available space. Instead, I kick off my heels and rest against the cloth-covered partition as I quickly review the documents.

“They’re playing you,” I state flatly as I pass the papers back.

Liam looks at me,  confusion and an underlying hardness in his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“What they’re asking of you is impossible. All the stocks are duds, poor performers. They set you up to fail. Or go crazy, whichever one comes first.”

 Not tagging folks; if you see it and want to play, feel free to do so!

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

Final Act - Liam Dunbar x Reader

(gif credit)

Summary: It’s graduation day for Liam and y/n. They’re going to different schools on opposite sides of the country and she still hasn’t confessed her true feelings for him.

Word Count: 1816

Warnings: angst, fluff, cursing

a/n: hi again! here’s my first liam fic, let me know what you think! also, feel free to send me a message for requests or to be added to my taglist :)

masterlist

y/n blew out a long breath, smoothing out her maroon graduation gown as she stood in front of her bedroom mirror. She adjusted the cap on her head, a bittersweet smile gracing her face. So this is it, she said quietly to herself. The drive to the school was quiet, not that she expected anything different. y/n’s parents were almost always too busy with work to pay attention, nonetheless talk to her, unless they noticed a B instead of an A on a report card. She was honestly surprised they took the time out of their schedule to come to her graduation, but she had still mentally prepared herself for one or both of them getting a work related call in the middle of the ceremony and leaving without saying anything.

Growing up, y/n and her parents moved around a lot for their jobs, so it was hard for her to maintain any lasting friendships. When she finally got to high school, her parents decided to stay in one place at least until she graduated. Her freshman year she joined the lacrosse team, deciding to put her years of playing on teams for a max of a few months at a time and playing alone as best she could to good use. Despite her being one of the better players on the team, she ended up lumped in with the underdogs because she was a freshman and a girl. That’s how she met Scott and Stiles, who were sophomores at the time. They soon were like big brothers to her and the trio became inseparable. 

y/n hadn’t been out in the woods the night Scott was bitten, but she was the first person that Stiles came to once he started connecting the dots. She found herself alongside the boys for each supernatural disaster from that point forward and ironically enough y/n and Stiles, both very human, became the first members of Scott’s pack. She quickly became friends with each new member of the pack, Liam especially. They talked to each other about pretty much everything and spent more time with each other than they did with the rest of the pack until Hayden came along. If the pack hadn’t known before, they definitely knew the moment that Liam started spending almost all his time with Hayden that y/n had feelings for him. She was down in the dumps for the first few weeks but was able to manage her feelings a bit better once she started hanging out with Kira, Lydia, and Malia. They’d always been friendly and she found that it was nice to have some close girl friends for a change.

“y/n, we all know you like him. It’s a little painfully obvious,” Lydia pointed out with a sympathetic smile one night when they were having a sleepover at the red head’s house before the three older girls left for college.

“Yeah, just ask him out already,” Malia agreed around a mouthful of chips. Kira, the more understanding one of y/n’s friends, rested her hand over y/n’s.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” Kira consoled and was quickly met by glares from Malia and Lydia.

“Come on, you’ve been pining after him since your sophomore year,” Lydia said.

“-aaaaanndd he’s now a single pringle since Hayden dumped him,” Malia added. y/n rolled her eyes but deep down knew they were right. She did like Liam, a lot if she was being honest.

“It’s not worth risking our friendship for,” y/n sighed quietly. Malia murmured “bullshit” under her breath, Kira offered y/n a sad smile, and Lydia simply hummed as she moved to set up the movie.

As luck would have it, y/n ended up sitting next to Liam for the graduation ceremony, she half expected it though since they had the same last initial. She waved to her found family when she spotted Malia, Kira, and Scott in the audience with Mama McCall, as y/n affectionately called her. If she was being completely honest, the ceremony was rather boring. The principal and different school personnel gave speeches, along with the valedictorian and a random alumni. Once it came time for students to walk across the stage and shake hands, everything seemed like a blur to y/n. So this is it, she repeated her words from earlier in her head. She hadn’t even realized that the people next to her had gotten up to line up at the edge of the stage until Liam lightly shook her shoulder. 

“y/n,” he spoke into her ear. “y/n, it’s time.” Still in a daze, she managed to make her way to the edge of the stage without breaking an ankle in her heels. As she got closer and closer with each name called, she began to have flashbacks of the last four years, particularly the moments she had spent with the pack and the moments she had spent with Liam. Liam, the boy that she might even love but who had no clue that she wanted them to be anything other than friends. It made y/n want to scream sometimes, but she had somewhat accepted the fact that there wasn’t much that she could do about it now. At the end of the summer she’d be headed off to Boston to attend classes at Harvard and Liam would be staying in state, going to UCLA.

She was about to reach back and hold his hand but she stopped herself. Her eyes began to water as she watched the last three people in front of her start to walk across the stage. Fuck it, she thought, and she whipped around to wrap him in a bone-crushing hug as she lightly sniffled into his neck. Liam paused for a moment, shocked by her sudden action before he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her close.

“y/n y/m/n y/l/n,” called the senior administrator. y/n pulled away from Liam, offering him a small, sad smile as she began to turn around. He watched as she walked across the stage, beautiful as ever, even with tears in her eyes. When it came time for him to walk across the stage he wasn’t as concerned about shaking hands and picking up his diploma as he was about getting back to y/n’s side. He sat down in his seat soon after and looked towards y/n, whose tears had since dried. She was staring straight ahead, trying to ignore the fact that this was it for them. Sure, they were in the pack together and would see each other over school breaks, but it was never going to be the way it was. 

“Hey,” he whispered in her ear, barely heard over the applause and cheers for the students still walking across the stage. She hummed quietly in response so he knew she had heard him. “Are you okay?” he asked sincerely. y/n thought about lying for a moment, but she knew he’d be able to tell.

“No, not really,” she murmured, quietly enough that he probably wouldn’t have heard her had it not been for his supernatural senses. Liam decided it was better to let the topic rest, at least for the rest of the ceremony. The remaining names were called and the principal stood in front of the podium once again.

“Family and friends, I now introduce to you the class of 2018,” the older man announced . The students threw their caps in the air and began cheering. y/n hesitated for a moment before Liam squeezed her hand in his own and gave her a reassuring nod. She gave him a watery smile before plucking the cap off her head, careful not to mess up her styled hair, before they tossed their caps in the air in unison. She let out a bit of a laugh as she dodged a few falling caps before grabbing her own. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Liam asked, pulling up her chin to look at him as other students began to clear out and meet their families.

“I just can’t believe it’s over,” y/n admitted. “Not just high school though,” she followed up as she cleared her throat. He raised a brow in confusion and urged her on with a nudge. “I mean, we’re not going to be together anymore. The rest of the pack is already in college and has moved away, sometimes it feels like we’ve lost them. Now I’m losing you too,” her voice broke towards the end. Liam pulled her into a hug and ducked down to whisper into her ear.

“You’re never going to lose me, no matter what happens,” he assured. y/n smiled into his shoulder but shook her head.

“You don’t get it,” y/n let out a deep breath. Now or never, I guess. She pulled away from him and held both of his hands as she looked him in the eye. “I’ve- I’ve liked you since you got here. God, I didn’t realize it until we’d spent the better part of a year hanging out. And then- then when you got with Hayden, I realized that I love you,” she sucked in a breath and waited for his reaction as she searched his face. Liam wore a blank look for a moment. Fuck, I just screwed up the best thing that I’ve ever known. She opened her mouth again, preparing to tell him to pretend she’d never said anything, when he lunged forward and brought her in for a deep kiss. One of his hands held the back of her neck gently while the other hand was placed on her waist, pulling her closer to him. She squeaked in surprise at first, her eyes wide, before she relaxed into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. The pair hesitated to pull apart, only doing so once their lungs were screaming for oxygen.

“Did that just-” y/n began, out of breath.

“Yeah, it did,” Liam replied as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

“I told you so!” Malia’s shout could be heard throughout the entire room. Liam and y/n looked towards their friends sitting in the bleachers and blushed. Kira was holding out a big thumbs up for y/n with a wide grin on her face, Scott was clapping, and Melissa was shaking her head with a smile at the kids’ antics. y/n ducked her head into Liam’s shoulder and groaned as he chuckled and rested his chin on top of her head. When she pulled away he leaned forward and pressed a sweep kiss to her lips.

“I love you too,” he murmured against her lips as his icy blue eyes gazed into hers.

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