#hurt comfort situation

[ciderjacks]

Party infighting

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[captainkirkk]

I'm a big fan of hurt/comfort tropes where the hurt is ongoing and escalating. Characters trying to cope with their situation and insisting that it's fine, they're fine, even as things get worse and worse and worse - especially if no one around them knows what they're going through.

Characters hiding their illness, even as they grow sicker and sicker. Characters trying to cope as their homelife becomes increasingly abusive or neglectful. Characters ignoring their injuries, only for them to become infected. Characters being stalked/ tormented by a villain and pretending that everything is fine, even as the villain continues escalating. Characters left homeless as winter approaches and their money dwindles.

I could go on. There's something very satisfying about seeing a character frantically trying to pretend like everything is okay until eventually they can't hide it anymore and get caught (and helped) by the people around them.

[ricesinspo]

☆ — "i care about you" (without actually saying it). by @ricesinspo, tag me if using!

— ☆ —

"close your eyes. maybe it might make things a little easier."

"i'm sorry i don't know how to help." they sit next to you. "i'm here if you need anything."

love languages!! learning which ones you enjoy receiving and using them

always going out of their way to make you feel loved / wanted.

to be loved is to be seen

sending random pictures of things that remind them of you. bonus if it doesn't make any sense

little greetings. daily. first thing in the morning.

periodically checking in, especially when you least expect it.

helping you do chores when you're too tired

— ☆ —

[justfangirlstuffs]

Heart of Glass

A friend of mine finally talked me into reading LDR and this was the result. Takes place after chapter 13. LDR belongs to @spadillelicious

At your wit's end, you decide to try and have a normal time with Sun before opening hours.

cw: suggestive

You x Sun

wordcount: 2040

You came into work feeling a little more rested than you have been in the past few days. You chanced taking a quick glance around for Moon but the janitor was doing a good job of making himself discreet, and you couldn't exactly blame him given recent events. A knot formed in the pit of your stomach and you rubbed at your temples. 

You missed the days when your greatest concern at work was customer service, or not making a total fool of yourself while skating, or… confessing to your crush. It was beyond agonizing how your world had gone from bright and sure to being filled with shadows of uncertainty at every corner overnight. And each day the shadows seemed to grow bigger and more numerous. It almost made you wish you could go back to the days of blissful ignorance before you knew the horrible, horrible truth.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Sun chirped from behind you, causing you to jump nearly a foot in the air. He placed both hands on your shoulders to steady you before you could fall over. “Careful there. You don't even have your skates on and already you're unbalanced.” He gave a soft, playful chuckle in your ear that made your heart squeeze in your chest and your breath catch in your lungs. 

“M-Morning, Sun,” you forced out, trying to simulate even a sliver of the cheer he was radiating..

“You're here early  again  I see, perfect. That means we can get more practice in. I'll make an expert skater out of you yet,” Sun declared, giving a spin and winking at you. 

You gave a soft snort in answer, doubting his claims. Your clumsiness on wheels aside… A dark thought pervaded your mind… would you even live long enough for that to happen? You stared up at Sun, seeing the eagerness in his body language, the way he was practically bouncing in his roller skates, the way his eyes were lit up with excitement and anticipation. He was eager to get you on the roller rink. His dance floor. 

You considered him, and you considered one of your more recent conversations. His confession about the mixtape, how it meant everything to him, how he’d kissed it and handled it like the most precious of treasures. A part of you desperately wanted to believe his words, that he would never hurt you, that he wanted to keep you safe and protect you. But your mind was still swirling in a fog of doubt and fear. 

After what you saw him do you didn't know what to believe anymore. You didn't want to think that all those months of you and him had been a lie. But if they had been… would he really be trying so hard? And then another thought occurred to you, a crazy and possibly insane thought. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to keep Sun endeared to you. If his feelings were really as true as he claimed, then perhaps keeping him on your side might be the smart thing to do. You felt like such a scuzz for even thinking that but it wasn't just about self-preservation on your part. You really did miss your friend. Your Sun. 

“Not this time,” you said, straightening your back and puffing out your chest a little bit. “This time we're going on to MY dance floor.” 

Sun stared down at you, his eyes widening in surprise as he blinked at you. Clearly, you had caught him off guard. “Oh?” The sound was drawn out, laced with intrigue, and his rays gave a little spin. “Do tell. Where is this said dance floor?” 

Swallowing down all of your nerves -and they went down as smoothly as a thick wad of dried bread, with no water to wash it down- you took Sun by the hand and pulled him towards the DJ booth. He gave a soft giggle clearly intrigued as he let you tug him along, his roller skates gliding easily along the floor. When you got to the DJ booth you began flipping through the vinyls looking for the record you had in mind. 

“Skates off," you told him. 

Once again Sun was taken aback by your request. “Sunshine, this is a skating rink,” he reminded you. 

“Oh, what's the matter?” You asked, throwing him a raised eyebrow and the hint of a smirk. “Afraid I'll show you up?” 

Sun laughed and it was the first genuine laugh you heard since... you shook your head. No you couldn't let those thoughts frazzle you now. Not when you had a good flow going. “Someone is feeling daring today,” Sun remarked, and he sounded pleased as punch about it. “All right, then. We’ll play by your rules.” 

While Sun changed out of his skates and into his casual footwear, you searched for a particular vinyl. It didn’t take you long to find what you were looking for, and once you got it set up, the music started and Heart of Glass by Blondie began blaring over speakers. You turned to face Sun and then you begin to move your hips to the music, doing a shuffle as your elbows and knees popped to the beat. 

Sun gazed at you in utter awe. “I didn't know you could dance, sunshine. You've been holding back on me!” 

Normally you didn't, normally you were too embarrassed and self-conscious to dance in front of others. But if this helped you to mend some kind of bridge… 

“Once I had a love, and it was a gas,” you sang as you swayed your hips. 

“Soon turned out, had a heart of glass,” Sun continued as he joined you, shuffling his feet, his limbs moving with a flawless elegance that was so enviable.

As it turned out Sun was just as graceful off the roller rink as he was on it. He matched you move for move and even had the cheek to embellish on some of them. Clearly trying to impress you, and probably also show off a little. Halfway through the song, Sun caught one of your hands and spun you around before pulling you into a dance of his own. With one hand holding yours and the other on your hip, he rocked and swayed your bodies together in time with the music. Your heart surged in your chest a mix of fear and something else. Excitement? Giddy? You decided not to look at it too closely and just enjoy the music and the rhythm that your bodies were making. 

The two of you spun and danced around the small space and you felt a little bit more in control without the skates to put you off balance. Sun did a good enough job of that to you as it was all on his own. At one point Sun had spun you around so that you were face away from him, and you were acutely aware of his hips gently grinding against yours as your back pressed against his chest. It was only for a moment, maybe two, but it caused you to fluster enough that you nearly had a misstep as Sun spun you back around to face him, his smile perfectly bright and innocent.

Despite your nerves, you felt yourself actually having fun. “Lost inside, adorable illusion and I cannot hide,” you sing softly. 

Sun continued the next lyric. “I'm the one you're using, please don't push me aside.” You heard his voice quiver a little at those last few words, his voice becoming almost pleading.  

He pulled you a little closer in the dancing and once again you felt your heart being clenched in your chest. A thought occurred to you just then. (You’d been having a lot of those lately.) What if Moon wasn't the only victim here? You saw how Sun acted around Afton, how whenever the owner came by Sun distanced himself from you. Maybe… maybe Sun acted the way he did because he had to. 

Was that stupid of you to think? Was that naive of you to wish that that was the case? At any rate, you couldn't allow yourself to fully believe it as much as you wanted to. There was too much doubt, too many holes in this gruesome picture that you found yourself a part of unwittingly. But in your heart of hearts you wanted to hold on to that hope that the Sun that you knew, the friend who had always been there to brighten your day and bring a smile to your face, you wanted to believe that that was the real Sun. 

The two of you finished out the song, Sun slowing down the dance as the outro played until he was just gently swaying you with him. Holding you close so that your heart was practically hammering against his chest plate. 

“I missed this,” he murmured against your hair. “I missed us.” 

“Me too,” you said, allowing yourself to be honest. 

Sun began humming, but not to the tune that was playing. It was a different song entirely. A much older one. “You Are My Sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray~. You'll never know dear how much I…” His whole body shuddered, his sun rays twitching and his words seemed to hitch. 

You stared up at him, your mouth agape. “S-Sun?” It was a question, and you still weren't sure you wanted to know the answer. 

Sun slowed the both of you to a halt, staring down at you with those pale eyes that seemed so… vulnerable at the moment. His hands reached up to cradle your face and your cheeks were hot against his cool silicone and metal digits. 

“I know you're still… uncertain. But unlike you, there is no doubt in my mind about how I feel.” 

He leaned down and in a panic, you closed your eyes too scared to back away or to move forward. But instead of a touch on your lips, you felt his smile press against your forehead in a sweet and affectionate gesture. 

“Not to worry, sunshine,” he said softly. “If… when that happens, it will be because you wanted it.” 

Your heart swelled and you almost wanted to cry. So many emotions and thoughts and feelings were swirling around in your head, distorting your reality and making you dizzy. Were you a terrible person for leading him on like this? Were you an even worse person for still loving him as much as you did? You opened your eyes to look at him but before you could say or think to say anything, you heard a distant banging on a door breaking the mood. 

Sun glanced over to the front doors, an unamused laugh emitting from him. “Looks like we have some eager beavers this morning. It's still ten minutes til opening.” 

Sun parted from you and you had to fight the urge to reach out and grab his windbreaker to stop him. He slipped his roller skates back on and flashed you his trademark grin. “I'll take care of things, sunshine. Why don't you go grab yourself a cup of coffee real quick? I made you a fresh pot.” 

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a smile. And for the first time in a while, it didn't feel forced. 

“No, thank you, sunshine.” He lingered in the doorway, gripping the door frame tightly. “I really needed this. More than I think you'll ever know.” 

With that, he skated off to help the customers, all while singing the song that was playing “The tide is high but I'm holding on, I'm gonna be your number one~.”

You collapsed down into one of the swivel chairs, needing to catch your breath from the whirlwind of the last several minutes. For just a short while things had felt normal again. It felt like you had your friend and crush back. The hope in your heart, once a little seedling, was starting to grow, and you were wondering if it was too late to root it out. You just prayed that Sun would keep his promise. Because the hurt at his betrayal would kill you long before a bullet from his gun.

[melissa7102004]

"I heard...these voices talking to me"

"Voices? Of...who?, my love"

"Of....you"

Okay so gaslighting!mare, brainwashed!dream and ghost!night

[firenati0n]

and all i can taste is this moment, and all i can breathe is your life

by firenati0n on ao3

T | 9999

tags: city of angels au, guardian angel henry, lawyer alex, 5+1, dual pov, hurt/comfort, angst with a HAPPY ENDING! NOT THE MOVIE ENDING I PROMISEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“In all the years, across all the universes, in the midst of all these people…you saw me. You felt me somehow. A gossamer fine thread connecting us, yet you grasped and tugged and held on tight. If losing my wings means I gain you, then that is a loss I will bear with gratitude.”

Five times Guardian Angel Henry yearns for a truly human sensory experience, and the one time he feels them all at once. Or, Henry discovers the joys of humanity through Alex’s eyes, finds himself, and falls in love. Or, Henry takes a leap of faith, and Alex catches him.

xoxo roop

also i know i talked about this in literally january so tagging some folks who expressed interest in this in the past pls don't mind me <3 ilysm xoxo

@ninzied @suseagull04 @onward--upward @duchessdepolignaca03 @@candyspandemonium @anincompletelist @inexplicablymine @heysweetheart-writes @wordsofhoneydew @nocoastposts @onthewaytosomewhere @magicandarchery @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @littlestar2911 @leaves-of-laurelin @tinyarmedtrex @galitzine-nick @anchoredarchangel @gltzine @getmehighonmagic @thirdeye1234 @movetoheavens @starkfridays @indestructibleheart @littlemisskittentoes @songliili @theprinceandagcd @gay-flyboys

[outsidersheadcanons]

Ponyboy or soda pop with braces?👀(darry forced them to go back to the dentist LMAO)

hmm.. what abt them both?? <3 (aka a nightmare for darry 😍)

(also.. we're going historically accurate 💀 so NO rubber bands or adhesive. just sharp ahh wire and bands that went around the entire tooth <3)

Ponyboy

As you can imagine he was SO happy about this development (him and Darry had such a big fight about it when they got home from the dentist they didn't speak for a few days after. Ponyboy was very close to running away again (dramatic smh 😒). But he actually started crying. like in the chair when the doctor told him he needed them 😭

His main concern was not looking tuff. Ponyboy before braces would've 100% bullied people who wore them 💀 (and when he did. Steve called him Train Tracks until Ponyboy bit him so hard that Steve had a bloody imprint of his braces in his arm)

He FREAKED OUT during the appointment to put them on (because when they were doing the wire part it felt like they were going to pull out his teeth) it got so bad they had to sedate him. "OW OW OW THAT HURTS!!" (they're cutting a wire that's attached to his bracket)

The laughing gas didn't prevent him from biting his poor dentist THREE TIMES (because Pony has beef w/ so many random people, he's one of them for no reason 💀 dude got bit TWICE and for what?? doing his job??)

Also. Ponyboy flipped out again when they went over the fact that he couldn't chew gum or smoke while having them and acted like that was DARRY'S fault 💀 (But he shut up pretty quickly when the doctor told him if he did his teeth would actually. rot if he did)

Another good thing that came out of it was that he actually started to remember to like. take care of his teeth 😭 (Pony's AWFUL at self care. But Darry was proud when he saw him brushing his teeth without being told to <3 even if it WAS bc he got a cavity under the band and NEVER wanted to experience that again)

Sodapop

Soda on the other hand is a pleasure to have in that office (but he does get antsy and nervous if he has to sit down for more than an hour. But he's not biting so the doctor doesn't mind)

Soda wasn't TOO upset about the braces, in fact he wore TF out of them (and Soda looks good with everything. Steve was kind of salty to him for a week after at the DX) and he always took really good care of them so they look just. great.

The only thing he WAS sad abt though was popcorn :(

But he would've loved. picking shit out of them w/ a toothpick (he's so me guys 😍)

Soda and Ponyboy actually get their braces put on on the same day, so at approx. 2 AM Darry gets a knock on his bedroom door "Darry our teeth hurt ☹️🥺"

RIP Sodapop Curtis. You would've loved the colorful rubber bands

[nat-without-a-g]

Thinking about how (almost) every kid wanted to be the chosen one for the Hell Prophecy, and Taylor’s anime opening bit in the first episode. Tried picking out who what the MC of what genre but it was really hard as someone who usually does not consider genre ^^;

[blackcherryvelvet0909]

Snowcone Comfort (Neige x GN!Reader)

Content Warning: Mild angst, hurt/comfort, mild stalking, predatory behavior from unnamed minor character, harassment, celebrities being taken advantage of, mentions of past abuse and victim blaming (if I missed any let me know)

Note: This is over 5k words, I don't know what possessed me. I guess it was my feelings on the behavior of certain fans of celebrities that got me going. I also just really, really like what I did with Neige's banner. I hope you do as well!

You leisurely strolled past the various stores and eateries, briefly peeking into each window. Every other second someone passed you by, whether it be a single person or an entire family, on their own merry way to somewhere you didn’t know. A few entered one of the many buildings lining the sidewalk, while others disappeared around corners of the little township. Little, yes, but no less expensive and elaborate. Most of the objects and treats that were advertised in every shop window cost way more than you could afford. Honestly, you’d be lucky to find something in your budget. Purchasing something wasn’t your reason for coming here, however.

Earlier that morning, you and Ace made a bet: If you beat him at air hockey, he would watch Grim for the rest of the day so you could relax. If he won, you’d have to do his homework for a whole week when you returned to the college. Guess who won out? Ace was shocked, to say the least, as was your audience, Deuce and Grim. Lucky for you, Ace was the type to get real cocky when he thought he was going to win. That attitude had been prominent since you began your game; it was fairly easy to use it to your advantage. So now here you were, taking a much needed break from babysitting your monster cat. 

You saw this little township on the bus ride into the resort when you and your fellow classmates arrived at the beach. Again, you had little money in your pocket, but it was just nice to get out and look around. See what could be seen in the quaint little tourist trap. You briefly wondered if Azul had struck up any business during the trip; if a certain fox and cat duo you’d met a little while ago had swindled a rich tourist or two when he’d possibly made port here. Your smile twitched up a little more as you saw the familiar face of Vil on a poster advertising a certain fragrance in a shop window. That must be where Vil stopped in to pick up that cologne for Rook and Epel. While the latter hadn’t been too keen on the (forced) gift, both men now smelled rather nice - nicer than usual, anyway. 

Just as you were about to turn a corner, in a direction where you remembered Malleus mentioning there being a really nice ice cream shoppe, you were nearly sent backward. Someone smacked into you, which made you both stumble and gasp out. Your hand reached out and held onto the closet windowsill to stabilize yourself. When you looked up, you recognized the face of the person who ran into you: Neige LeBlanche. The man Vil hated (a bit of a strong word, but what other term was there for the man’s feelings towards the celebrity?) with all of his being. The last time you saw the young man - at least in person - was during the VDC, smiling away as he congratulated your friends for their performance. Now, though, his expression was troubled, almost frightened. 

It wavered for a brief moment as he stared at you. “You…you’re [Name], right? One of Vil’s friends?” 

Well, you weren’t sure if you were friends, per say, but… “Y-Yeah,” you replied. 

Neige glanced behind him, that look of paranoia fresh in his eyes again. He turned back to you and grasped your hand, words hushed and urgent. “Please, help me hide! There’s a man after me and he - he’s not very nice.” 

You couldn’t see behind Neige, his body blocking your view. Even so, you could feel the atmosphere change around you as you heard someone call out for the celebrity. It was friendly, but wrong at the same time. Without a word, you gently, yet firmly held Neige’s hand as you turned around and bolted down the sidewalk. You led Neige back the way you’d come; your head turned this way and that as you tried to find a place to hide him. You hadn’t entered any of the businesses yet - you weren’t sure if they were good places to hide. The shrubbery and other plant life around weren’t very good options, either. 

“Hey!” You and Neige quickly glanced back to see a man hurriedly walk after you both. He was dressed sharply, in the fashion that was common for the locals here. You got the sense he wasn’t a local, however - maybe just a guy trying to fit in. The vibe from him wasn’t good, either. The smile he wore…it sent a chill down your spine. Neige shivered so strongly you could feel it trail down to his hand.

“Where’re you going, Mr. LeBlanche?” He held out his arms as though he wanted a hug. “I just wanted an autograph.” 

Neige didn’t have to ask you to hurry - you tugged him forward again, this time in a sprint. You frantically searched for a place to hide, just until the guy was out of sight. As you turned another corner, exiting the town, you found yourself at the edge of the beach. Golden sand spread out before you, the blue waves crashing onto shore a mile away. Suddenly, you had an idea. Your gaze landed on the small snack stand Sam had set up for the trip. “C’mon!” you whispered yelled to Neige behind you as you pulled him towards the little building. 

The pale boy followed you without question, scared eyes peering behind him every other second to see if the man had found you both. As you reached the snack stand, you quickly threw up the little door that separated the counter from the store space. You rushed Neige inside before you shut it behind you both. You then directed Neige to sit below the counter, just out of sight. You followed close behind him, legs crossed and back flushed against the wall. Neige was in a similar position, the only difference being his knees were tucked up under his chin. 

“Unless you two are looking for a summer job, I’m going to ask you to leave.” The two of you looked up at Sam, who now stood in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was stern, yet the quirk of his brow showed his confusion about your sudden appearance. “As I know your status, Mr. LeBlanche, I know you are not strapped for cash. As for you, little imp-” 

“We’re hiding from this creep,” you interrupted. “He won’t leave Neige alone.” You glimpsed Neige nodding his head in agreement, too afraid to speak. It seemed what you’d garnered from the situation was correct. 

Sam’s gaze fleeted upwards and over the counter. Without breaking his gaze from the outside world, he asked, “Who? The one with the brown hair and last year’s bootlegged designer sandals?” 

Sam could tell what designs were forgeries? Of course he could. Why did you even think otherwise? “Yes.” 

The shopkeep was silent for a few seconds as he examined the man. He must be approaching the snack stand - Neige let out the faintest whimper. You reached how to hold his hand again and gave it a squeeze to try and comfort him. To your surprise and relief, the boy returned it. Finally, Sam spoke in a hush whisper of his own. “Stay as long as you like. I’ll take care of this.” 

Before either of you could express your thanks, you heard someone approach the counter. You didn’t think Neige’s complexion could get any paler…poor guy. He scarcely breathed as Sam addressed the man - neither did you. “Hello there! Welcome to my little snack shop. What can I get for you?” 

Your assailant didn’t respond at first. His shadow stretched over the counter and onto the floor in front of you; you thanked whatever god there was that you and Neige’s shadows were obscured by the counter. “Have you seen two kids running around?” the man asked, completely ignoring Sam’s question. “You know Neige LeBlanche, right?” 

“Who doesn’t?” Sam answered rhetorically. 

“I was supposed to get a picture with him, but he disappeared before I could get my phone out. You wouldn’t have happened to see him come by?” 

“Hm…can’t say I have.” Sam’s lie was flawless, amplified by the little shrug of his shoulders. “Last time I saw him, he was on TV. He’s here at the resort? Huh, news to me.” Sam leaned forward. “How much does he charge for pictures, anyhow? I figure it must cost a pretty good few madol.” 

The man’s snicker made your stomach churn. “I’ve got a few ways around that. I rarely get a no with my face, y’know?~” Gross. 

“Well, I’m sorry to say I haven’t seen him.” You barely glimpsed Sam gesture with his thumb towards the small town where you and Neige had come from. “Though…I did see someone kinda like him get into a cab just now. It looked like it was turning towards the city.” 

The creep hummed in thought, satisfied by his answer. “Thanks for the tip,” he said. He then placed something down onto the counter. “For your trouble.” 

“Much appreciated~” Sam gave the man his signature salesman wink and smile. “Come by next time you’re craving something cool and sweet. I’ve got everything you need.” The man said something in return, but the two of you couldn’t make it out. For several long minutes, not another word was spoken - the only sounds to be heard were the wirring or the large freezers, fridges, and other kitchen contraptions situated about the floor. Finally, Sam took a step back and peeked down at you two. “Alright, the coast is clear now. Guy won’t be back for a while.” 

Neige breathed out a long sigh of relief. He brought his hand up to slip the black sun hat he’d been wearing off his head, the red ribbon adding a pop of color to the accessory. Aside from the hat, he was almost dressed like a sailor boy. “I like your outfit,” you commented, trying to lighten the mood. “It looks really good on you.” 

Neige, despite still looking a tad shaken, gave you a smile. “Th-Thank you. I bought it shortly before myself and the rest of my classmates came here to the beach. I thought it’d be better suited for the hot weather.” 

“Well, no sense in getting it dirty then.” You crawled out from under the counter and stood up before offering a hand out to Neige. Your smile was encouraging, despite the previous situation. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Where were you heading before, uh…he came?” 

Neige followed your lead and got out from under the counter. Even after he stood up, however, he didn’t let go of your hand. Perhaps it provided comfort for him. “I was heading back to the resort - the one beside on the other side of town, I mean, not the one you’re staying in. I promised Che’nya I would meet up with him to go swimming. I just stopped in town to pick up a bottle of the perfume that Vil was talking about on his Magicam.” 

“Really? Were you interested in the scent?” 

“That’s part of the reason, yes, but I really just wanted to support Vil. He seemed so happy about the sponsor.”

‘That’s fucking adorable’, you thought. 

“I’ll have to get some later.” He timidly glanced out towards town, where the guy had surely disappeared off to. “I…I don’t want to go back in there right now.” 

“Just so you know, he took a cab out to the city.” Sam shot you two a grin as he sorted through a large freezer under the left counter of the store. “Pretty good lie, huh?”

“It’s not good to lie,” Neige gifted the shopkeeper a tiny, shy smile, “but I do appreciate you doing that for us. Thank you, Mr…?” 

“Sam’s fine,” Sam chuckled. 

Neige nodded. “Thank you, Sam. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” 

Sam seemed to think the prospect over for a minute as he shuffled around a few white paper cones. His answer was not what you expected. “Nah, it’s alright. No favors needed - I was just doing what’s right.” He scooped some shaved ice into two paper cones he held in his other hand. “Though, if you’d like, I can get you that perfume.” 

“Really?” Neige’s pupils were as big as saucers. “You can do that?” 

“Mhm.” Sam placed the cones into two circular plastic holders in front of several colorful pumps. He then reached behind his back - when he brought his gloved hand back out, he was holding a small, luxurious pink paper bag. “Anything to please a customer~” 

Now Neige’s eyes were almost bugged out of his head. “That’s-! How did you-?”

“I have my ways.” Sam offered Neige the bag - the celebrity delicately took it. He looked into the bag in wonderment. You couldn’t help but sneak a peek yourself; sure enough, there was the bottled fragrance you’d seen in that advertisement earlier. It was really pretty, its body a crystal dark purple bottle with a small black, glass cork. Very much a product Vil would be associated with. “For the trouble you went through today, I’ll even give you a discount,” Sam offered. 

‘Damn, why can’t he be this generous all the time?’ you wondered. 

“Thank you so much!” Neige beamed. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight…man, no special effects needed for this man. “How much do I owe you?” 

“With the discount, it’ll be 30,000 madol.” 

You almost choked on your own spit. Holy shit that was a lot of money! And he gave Neige a discount? How much was it full price?! Did you even want to know? Without a second thought, Neige reached into his pocket and retrieved a cute wallet, its dark blue leather decorated with embroidered blue birds. Man, Neige’s aesthetic was pretty consistent, huh? 

In the next instant, the exact amount was in Sam’s outstretched hand - and there was still a good bit left in Neige’s wallet. Seven, you wondered if you’d have half that much if Crowley actually paid you for all the things you did for him. As Neige zipped the little pouch back up, Sam briefly counted the bills before folding them and putting them in his pocket. “A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. LeBlanche~” He then swiftly turned around back to the cones filled with shaved ice. “What flavors do you two prefer?” 

“Um…strawberries and cream are always a delight for me, but I also like any other kind of fruit.” Neige replied. 

“[Favorite flavor(s)]” you answered. 

Without a flourish of fast hands, Sam pumped colorful flavored syrups onto the small domes of shaved ice. In no time, there were two snowcones in his hands, one held out for each of you to take. “On the house,” he said. “For many, sweets are just the thing to cheer someone up after something so scary.” 

While you eyed the frozen treat was suspicion, Neige took it without complaint. “Thank you so much, Mr. Sam! You’re too kind!” 

“...what are you getting out of this from me?” you asked. How many times have you accepted something for “free” and it backfired on you later? 

“No tricks or schemes here, little imp,” Sam promised. His smile wasn’t deceiving, nor did his eyes hold any devious plan. The shopkeep looked genuine - proud, even. “Take it as a reward for such a selfless act, saving Mr. LeBlanche the way you did.” 

You hesitated for a moment longer, then finally took the snowcone. As you expected, it was your favorite flavor, just as you’d said. For once, a good deed of yours had led to a prize - with no strings attached. 

“Now, you two run along.” Sam strode past you two and opened the little door you’d entered a little while before. “No doubt you two have other things to do. That, and I’ve got my shop to run.” He shot you two another playful wink as he added, “Don’t eat those two fast, now.”

“We won’t,” Neige giggled. He held up his hand and waved as he and you began to walk away from the snack stand. “Thank you again, Mr. Sam. Have a good rest of your day!” 

“You as well, little imps.” 

Before you both could wander too far though, Sam’s voice suddenly echoed in your head. “Get your friend home safe, little imp. Don’t worry about the guy; remember, I’m taking care of it.” You could only imagine what that meant. Despite the ominous implications, you did agree with the shopkeeper: You needed to make sure Neige got home safe. 

“Let me walk you back,” you offered. “I don’t want something else like that to happen.” 

Neige’s expression was timid again, guilty even. “You really don’t mind?” 

You shook your head and smiled. “Not at all! I’d want someone to do the same for me if I’d been in that situation.” 

“I’m sure your friends would jump at the chance to do that for you.” 

‘Yeah, I hope so too,’ you thought. 

As the two of you walked back to the resort, munching your snowcones along the way, you couldn’t help but ask the question that’d been on your mind. “Who was that guy, anyway? Do you know him?” 

You almost regretted the inquiry the moment it passed your lips. Neige’s face fell, head tilted downwards as he stared down at his feet. “I…don’t know. I never got his name, actually. He said he was a fan and asked for a picture - I was happy to oblige! I don’t mind whenever someone asks for a picture of me. But,” he stalled for a moment to take a deep breath - when he exhaled, he continued, “But I could tell he wanted more than a picture.

“He kept asking where I was staying, if I was doing anything that night, if I came to the resort alone…and he wouldn’t stop touching me.” Neige mildly gestured to his waist and chest, though was careful to not jostle the small bag clasped between his fingers too much. “I-In intimate ways, I mean.” 

You hadn’t noticed how much you’d been neglecting your snowcone until you felt the cold, syrupy water drip down your fingers. You hastily lapped up the tiny streams before you spoke, eye contact solely focused on Neige’s big brown doe eyes - which, you noticed, were now slightly darkened by that fear you’d seen earlier. “He had no right to touch you like that.” 

“I know!” Neige seemed almost relieved to be validated. “I’ve always been told that by Headmaster Ambrose, and my other teachers…and yet there are others who disagree. That man isn’t the first to handle me in such a manner. Thankfully he wasn’t the most forceful; there have been others who have told me I owe them such attention because of how much they support me. Pay to see my movies, buy products I endorse - things like that.” Neige looked like he was about to cry, and you felt like you were about to join him with what he said next.

“Even some people I’ve worked with - past managers, photographers, etc - have even said I’m selfish for denying my fans what they want.” 

“And they’re all wrong.” Your words were so matter-of-fact that the boy almost appeared surprised. You stopped in your tracks, feet away from the entry gates of the resort where you knew Neige and other RSA students were residing for their trip. As if in tune with your steps, Neige stalled in turn. “Just because they support you and do all that stuff doesn’t mean they have the right to do that. They don’t own you. You’re not their property.” 

You briefly threw your hands in the air. “I don’t know where people get that kind of audacity, entitlement, but they’ve gotta be batshit cra-!” You gasped as the flavored snow to atop your paper cone went crashing to the concrete path below. A hushed ‘aww man!’ breathed past your lips as you glared down at the colored frozen heap quickly melted from the heat of the asphalt. When your gaze flicked back to Neige, you saw he was equally as shocked and disappointed. You must look like two kids who just dropped their ice cream…that’s exactly what it was, really. You wouldn’t call yourself or Neige kids, however. 

“Anyways,” you said, under a sigh of frustration at your blunder. So much for your only free treat of the trip. “Never, ever feel like you have to sit there and take what horrible things someone dishes out. You can walk away at any time - if someone faults you for that, fuck ‘em!” You watched as Neige’s hand flew up to cover his mouth, dainty bag crinkling in his hold. Oh yeah, Neige didn’t really curse, did he? Not that you knew of, at least. 

“Sorry, sorry! I shouldn’t have cursed like that. Guess I’ve been around the guys too long.” 

“N-No, it’s alright.” What you didn’t expect to hear was the smallest, most adorable giggle erupt from the young man’s throat. “You would be surprised how many of my classmates curse. Che’nya nearly outdoes them all! He just keeps it down around our professors.” Well, you seemed to cheer him up from his previous depression; that was good. “That isn’t what I’m laughing about, though.” 

“What’re you laughing about, then?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“Well…you reminded me of Vil when you said all those things. We don’t talk very much (though I wish we would talk more often), but I have heard him give such a speech to others in the past. Beginning actors, mostly, but sometimes stage hands, assistants - many people he comes into contact with. He’s such a strong, inspiring person - one I wish to be one day.” Neige’s smile was so kind, so pure, you suddenly understood why Rook held such a fondness for the actor. The fact it was directed at you, not a fan or camera or something, gave you butterflies. “And now, I wish to be as strong and brave as you, [Name].”

You quickly grew flustered under the man’s adoring gaze. A blush crept its way up to your cheeks as you fumbled with your empty snowcone. “I mean, I’m not that brave.” 

“Untrue!” Neige’s protest was so cute you couldn’t help but smile a little. “Che’nya told me that Trey told him how you helped Riddle come out of his overblot. That takes a lot of courage! I could never dream of facing such a thing!”

“It is pretty scary,” you admitted. “There were points in time I thought I was going to die, or at least get hurt. Sometimes I did get hurt…but I had friends to help me get out of those troubles.” While that blush stubbornly remained on your face, you met Neige eye-to-eye once more. “And that’s why you should tell a friend whenever that happens. Never be afraid to call out for help. Whether a celebrity or just a student, everyone needs it at some point.”

Your smile quirked up into a smirk. “If someone thinks otherwise,” you balled your free hand up into a fist and held it in front of you, “fuck ‘em.”

“Yeah!” Neige cheered, more enthusiastically than you thought he might. “Fuck ‘em!” The moment the naughty phrase left his lips, Neige let out a squeak and covered it again. His eyes darted in every direction, looking to see if anyone heard him. For once, to your luck, no one was about. As relief washed over the RSA second year, he went into another fit of giggles.

“Sorry!” he laughed. “I got too carried away.”

You shrugged away his apology. “Fine by me.” You shot him a wink as you pressed a finger to your lips. “I’ll never tell a soul~” 

Neige tittered so sweetly you almost thought you heard it wrong. “I very much appreciate it.” The pretty boy glanced down at the wet patch of concrete where your icy treat once lay. “I’m sorry about your snowcone…” 

You were also sorry, very disappointed, but you didn’t want to add another worry to the poor guy’s mind. So, you shrugged again and said, “Eh, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a snowcone - not like I can’t get another.” Partly a lie, as you didn’t know whether or not you could afford one with your extra tight budget. Maybe you could manage to convince a friend or professor to get you one in the future…

A little flinch jolted your body as a snowcone was thrust into your face. “Here,” Neige’s eyes practically glittered with determination, “take mine.” 

You shook your head and put your hands out in front of you, one still partially clasping your now crumpled paper cone. “N-No, you don’t have to-”

“I want to.” Neige’s frowny pout morphed into yet another angelic smile. “Like you said, there will be more opportunities to get a snowcone. Che’nya talked about us and some of our friends getting some later - so, I want you to have mine.” Something popped into the boy’s mind, which caused him to falter in his resolve, but just a tad. “I-I hope you like strawberries and cream. That’s the flavor. It’s artificially flavored-”

“How can you tell it’s artificially flavored?” you asked, actually curious. 

“My tastebuds are a little sensitive. Artificial strawberry tastes a bit different than actual strawberries do.” 

Huh, cool talent. Whether or not you enjoyed the taste of either the fruit or the cream didn’t matter at the moment; Neige’s gesture was too sweet to pass up. That, and how many times would you receive such a selfless act? At Night Raven College, likely as slim a chance as you not encountering another overblot in the next month or so. You took the snowcone from the boy’s fingers - which were very soft to the touch, you now noticed - as your smile widened in gratitude. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Neige’s nod was so endearing you were starting to feel how Rook might have felt when he came face to face with his idol months ago. You were also beginning to see why Vil envied the man so much. He was irresistible! Neige folded his hands in front of his naval, fingers fidgeting with the handles of the pink bag as he spoke again. “Well, I best be going. Che’nya will grow worried if I don’t show up to the pool at the time we set.” 

“You’re the punctual type?” 

“Yes, very much. I wouldn’t want to be rude.” 

“I don’t know,” you mused. “I think a little rebellion would look cute on you.” Well where in Wonderland did that come from? Since when were you a smooth operator? You watched as Neige’s pale face took on a pink tinge around his cheeks and nose, and a little at the tips of his ears. Did he…like that? For the way his voice came out a little shy, he must have. 

“W-Well, I might have to take lessons from you on how to be rebellious later. I’ve never really thought about it…” 

“Che’nya hasn’t dragged you into trouble yet? It seems to be a habit of his at Heartslabyul.” 

“It is, yes. I could ask him, but I wouldn’t want to get into trouble at school, nor would I want to make Glynda angry-”

“Who’s Glynda?” 

“My current manager.” 

Ah. 

“Although…” Neige peeked up at you again, an equally timid smile across his face. “I don’t have much scheduled for June. School will not be in session then; maybe, when we’re out for the summer, you could teach me a bit then?”

Wait…was he…? Nah, couldn’t be. THE Neige LeBlanche would not ask you on a date. With a cheery lint under your tone, you replied, “Yeah, sure! Just send me a te-” You thought about your dinosaur age, crap phone Crowley had graciously given you over winter break. You decided against your previous suggestion. 

“Actually, just send me a letter or something. My phone’s…broken.” 

“I’ll be sure to do so the moment the time comes.” Neige took a few steps back, about to take his leave. He lifted his hand and gave a little wave. “Well, goodbye, [Name]. Thank you for helping me. I hope we can spend more time together soon.” 

“Yeah, I hope so too.” 

In minutes, the man was gone, disappearing through the glass doors and into the hotel lobby. You stared after him for a few seconds more before you turned toward the front gates, making your way back to your own resort. It’d be quite the walk - you couldn’t afford a cab or bus, or whatever transport they had in the area. By the time you’d get back to your hotel, it’d be close to dinner time. No need to have someone send a search party out for you. So, you took a bit of a speedy pace as you walked out the open gates and down the road. 

All the way back, you thought about the promise you made to Neige. You two hadn’t really talked before then; now, it seemed, you two were forming a friendship. To think your first hang out would be you teaching the good boy how to rebel! Just what would you teach him, you wondered. Maybe you could get Ruggie to teach you how to pick a lock…that would be a good start, right? And it’d be useful in sticky situations the young man might run into one day. The beauty couldn’t always rely on someone to come and save them!

Beauty…yeah, yeah Neige was really pretty. Your heart fluttered as you recalled how those big brown orbs beheld you as though you were the most wonderful thing in existence. Your own pupils trailed down to the snowcone in your hand. The icy crystals, bright red mixed with pale cream, twinkled in the sunlight. Little bites had been taken out of the treat by Neige earlier; to eat the shaved ice that’d graced the celebrity’s lips would almost be like giving him an indirect… With a heavy heart and a pang of guilt, you tossed the snowcone into the nearest garbage can. You just couldn’t do it - it felt too intimate for a boy you barely knew. 

For now, at least. 

[guppygiggles]

(sad/comfort, tickling)

Hey, there you are! I've been looking for you all day! What are you up to, friend?

Oh, no... What's wrong?

Oh, honey... my poor little peach... come here.

There, there... it's okay... I'll just hold you for a minute and rub your back. You don't have to say anything, okay? Shh, shh... you're safe now, I've got you. That's it... just let it all out, sweetheart. This world is so hard on soft things like you, it just isn't fair... oh, that I could take this pain away from you, I'd do it in a heartbeat...

Here, let me dab your face with this... does the cold feel better? Yeah, I bet... you are so flushed, just look at your poor cheeks... let's get your forehead and your neck, too... oh, honey, you're crying again... here, blow into this tissue. Oh, hush, I've seen worse! Just blow. There you go... feel better? Good... let's dab your red nose, too... there, now. You're already starting to look a bit better, do you feel better at all? Oh, I'm so, so glad.

Here, take a sip of this water. That was a big cry you just had, so you need to rehydrate, okay? If you don't want this, I could make you soup, or get you a gatorade instead, or... oh... you look sleepy, now. Are you getting a bit sleepy? That's what I thought... not surprising, really, after the day you just had. Hey, don't apologize! You can absolutely sleep here, I don't mind one bit. Here, let's get you more comfortable.

I hope my couch is comfy for you... you can lean against me if you want, I'll wrap this blanket around us. Oh, you're not quite ready to fall asleep, yet? Well, that's alright! Why don't we put on your favorite movie, and you can drift off when you're ready? No no, don't get up... I have it downloaded already, I'll just get it started for you. Hehe, I actually haven't seen this one in a while... I'm happy that we're watching it together.

You keep squirming... Are you uncomfortable? You... want to get closer? Well, of course you can! Here, there's plenty of room for us to lay down... Oh, pff, are you kidding? I love to cuddle! Let's put this pillow under your head, and you can just scoot back against me, there you go...

...!

Oh, no, did I hurt you? I didn't mean to nudge you so hard. That was a pretty loud squeak, are you alright?

...Whew, I'm so glad... I would feel just terrible if I hurt you. Are you just sensitive right there, or something?

Hm...? I can barely hear you, can you speak up, please?

Wait a minute...

You're not... ticklish, are you?

Ohoho, I see... so, if I just... tickle your tummy, right here, that doesn't tickle?

...

Ehehehe! Awww, your laugh is so cute! Are you embarrassed about being ticklish, is that why you didn't tell me? It's nothing to be shy about, you know... it's pretty adorable.

...

Ohhhh... I think I'm catching on, now... well, in that case... let's see, what other spots should we test out? How about right here, on your side? People with ticklish tummies usually have ticklish sides, too... and it sounds like you're no exception, hehehe! I guess you didn't know I moonlight as a tickle monster, hm? Too late to run, now! Tickle, tickle, tickle! Awww, you have the sweetest laugh when you're being tickled! What about your ribs, I wonder?

...

Ticklish here, too? Goodness! You're just ticklish all over, huh?

Uh oh~ not here...? Not right heeeeeere, under your arms? Hehe, oh, but everybody likes it right here! Tickle, tickle! Wow, I didn't know you could laugh like that! Is this your worst spot~? Your special tickle spot? Oh, gosh, look how red you're turning! You poor thing, so blushy and ticklish... god, you're so cute. Alright, alright, I'll give you a break, now. Don't think I'm not gonna find your other spots, later, though...! Hehehehe~

Here's some water... I bet you're winded after all that laughing. Oooh, you look very sleepy now, too... are you? Oh, good... you really need to rest. I'll pull the blanket back over you... that's it. Just take deep breaths, now... don't you worry about a thing, sweetheart. You are so safe and loved, here... I won't let anything happen to you. Just rest your sweet head, close your eyes...

Goodnight, peach. 💙

[autisticlancemcclain]

When Shiro hears news of his mother’s death, his first thought is good riddance.

His second thought is fuck. Loudly, and repeated many times in his head. And out loud. In the middle of the night, sitting straight up in bed, startling his fiancé awake.

“T’kashi?” he mutters, eye squinted as he blindly pays the bedside table for his glasses. “What’s going on?”

Shiro’s mouth works on autopilot. “It’s my mother.”

As it always does when she is brought up, which is frequently due to her many life decisions, Adam’s face wrinkles as if he just bit into something very sour.

“Oh. What the fuck is she up to now?”

“Uh, the afterlife.”

Adam’s face freezes. Shiro chokes down hysterical laughter. It doesn’t work, and comes out kind of reedy and strangled.

“Mr. Shirogane,” comes the tinny voice from his phone, and Shiro startles.

“Oh, shit, yes. Sorry. Um. I wanted to ask about my brother. Where is he? When can I pick him up?”

There’s a hesitance from the other end that Shiro doesn’t like. He sits up straighter, if at all possible, and Adam’s face hardens — it has been a four year long fight, with his mother, to try to get Keith over as often as possible for even an ounce of stability, and not a fight they have won very frequently, but it is not one they’re willing to give up. Shiro has no doubt that the state will fight just as hard as his mother did.

Adam and Shiro will simply fight harder.

“The safety of the child is the state’s first concern,” the lawyer says neutrally.

“Great. Give me an address and twenty minutes, then, and I’ll bring him right home.”

The lawyer’s voice is steely. “He is home, with a lovely young couple who are happy to have him.”

“There is a lovely young couple who he is related to and whom he has familiarity with right here,” Shiro grits out. “Tell me where my brother is.”

The lawyer waits a moment. “It might be a difficult transition, you know. It would be nice for Keith to have a mother and a father, for once.”

Before Shiro can even blink, a hand reaches over and snatches the phone right from his face, and Adam throws it open onto the bedspread, presses speaker, and sets off.

“You listen here, you gristly assed motherfucker. Takashi has the right of next of kin. Failing proof of neglect or abuse, which you have tried and failed to invent on our end so many times the court as all but banned you from trying again, Keith is legally required to be placed in our home should Shirogane Saori be found incapable of care. And, as you can imagine, lying on a table in a morgue renders one quite incapable. If you don’t provide an address clearly and concisely in the next fifteen seconds, I will sue not only you and your firm, but you mother, your father, your children, and you dusty tailor, you ugly brown suit wearing hetero. Are we understood?”

There’s another stretch of silence, wherein despite the gravity of the situation Shiro considers proposing to his fiancé again, before the lawyer finally speaks.

“…Group home on 4th and King.”

“Thank you,” Adam says tersely, and slams the phone closed. He scoffs at it. “Fucking jackass. Someone should kill him.”

Shiro snorts. Then he giggles. Then he starts laughing, and then he can’t stop, and he laughs so hard tears come to his eyes, and then they don’t stop, either, and his breath hitches and a lump forms in his throat and his whole face starts to get itchy. Adam pulls him into him immediately, cradling him into his lap like he’s a child, and he goes without resistance because it’s Adam doing to holding, and because he doesn’t know where this sadness is coming from. He has hated his mother for more years than he has loved her. The only time he’s thanked her for anything in the last eight years was one he held Keith in the hospital, skipping his first day of high school to do it. She has been crueler than kind to him for most of his life.

But she was his mother, in many ways. In all ways except the ones that mattered. And apparently that counts for something.

“We need to go,” Shiro whispers, trying to lift his head. Adam gently presses it back into his neck, holding his arms around him.

“It’s four in the morning, starshine. Maybe we wait a few hours?”

“No.” The hoarseness of his own voice makes him wince. “He can’t…Adam, I don’t even like my mother, and look at me. Keith is going to be inconsolable. She carted him around like a baby doll. He loved her.”

Adam winces. He knows it’s true as much as Shiro does. Their mother’s erratic lifestyle has gifted Keith an assortment of attachment issues, as evidenced by the tantrums whenever she dropped him off at their apartment when she was bored.

Not that Keith understands the issue. Because he is four, and because he has gone through more things in his four years of life than many children will before they are even ten, but not enough to stop thinking his mother is the most important person on Earth.

Quickly they dress, shoving in whatever clothes are near without worrying about looking presentable. They don’t bother with much more than brushing their teeth, skipping shaving and breakfast and coffee in favour of speeding to the parking garage.

It only takes them fifteen minutes to get to the group home the lawyer has mentioned, and they waste no time in rushing up the steps, uncaring of social norms or etiquette as they ring the doorbell and stand fidgeting at the front door.

It takes a long time for the door to open. Shiro can’t help feeling like that is intentional.

“What,” barks the man at the door, as if their intent isn’t expressly obvious given the circumstance.

“I’m here to pick up my brother,” Shiro says as politely as he can manage. “Keith?”

“He’s sleeping,” says the man, who Shiro presumes is one of the foster parents running the home. “Come back tomorrow.” He tries to slam the door shut, but before he can register his own movement Shiro is slamming his hand against the door. The wood cracks under his palm.

He doesn’t bother saying anything. He doesn’t have it in him. He simply shoves the door open, sending the man stumbling, and strides in, remembering at the last second to try and keep quiet so as to not wake any other sleeping children. It takes him three tries to find the right room, but when he finally swings open the right door he knows, from the very second he sees the lump of blankets on the bottom bunk in the far right corner. He stands frozen for a moment at the door, watching his baby brother breathe, seeing the dried tear tracks on his face, the stutter of his breaths and shake of his chest. His thumb is firmly in his mouth, a habit he’s had broken for two years.

Shiro’s eyes begin to leak again. He feels Adam squeeze his bicep once in comfort, then wordlessly he walks off, gathering the messy scattering of Keith’s things into a large backpack. Trusting him to know or guess what belongs to his brother — all largely things they’ve bought him — Shiro approaches the bed, kneeling carefully at the edge of it. He reaches out and brushes Keith’s hair out of his face, gliding his thumb across his forehead. It wrinkles as Keith wakes, squinting his eyes up at Shiro in grogginess and confusion. It takes him a moment to register what’s going on, but Shiro knows the exact second it does, because his indigo eyes go blank the way they do when Keith is so far overwhelmed he can’t even come close to starting to process how he feels. Shiro braces himself for whatever vitriol, likely directly quoted from their mother, is about to come out of his mouth.

“I don’t want you,” Keith cries. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, cracked and strained; a long, keening cry. His face twists up and he glares at Shiro in what can only be described as betrayal, as if it’s Shiro’s fault their mother is gone, as if it was Shiro’s evil plan to take her away forever so he can never go back.

He wouldn’t even be surprised if that’s what their mother has told him. It hurts anyway.

“I know,” he chokes out, hushed. He brushes his thumb over Keith’s forehead again, slow, from temple to temple, and to his surprise his brother leans into it slightly as his breaths hitch with sobs. “I know, baby.”

He exchanges a look with Adam, who, God Shiro loves him so much, understands immediately: they have ten minutes.

Two years ago, when their mother dropped Keith off at his doorstep one day and fucked off to Atlanta for a week, Shiro decided enough was enough. Keith was convinced she was coming back to get him every morning and was devastated when she didn’t. It was an endless, sisyphian cycle. Shiro took the day off school, took his limited funds, and brought Keith to a paediatric specialist. It was of course not the most thorough evaluation, as that was something that could only be done with time, but there was almost definitely some valuable input. Shiro learned, in harried, layman’s terms, that their mother’s flakiness meant Keith always believed he was about to be left behind. Her babying of him lead him to believe that he was at fault when that happened. When he was actually happened, he was prone to tears and affection, trying to win back his mother, trying to prove that he was a good enough baby doll for her, basically.

And if that doesn’t work…well. Then the hurt and the anger start, and God knows how long it will last.

“Ten minutes,” Adam mutters, stuffing one last thing into the backpack and shoving it over his shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Taking the blanket with him, because fuck these guys, Shiro lifts his baby brother up, holding him tightly to himself, pressing his face into his neck. He starts to powerwalk down the hallway back to the front door, Adam close behind him. He vaguely hears the same man who opened the door start to argue with them, start to try to stop them, and he trusts Adam to handle it, because all he can hear in his head is a countdown. If they don’t make it to the car in time and Keith starts really wailing, they are going to take him away, and Shiro knows he will never get fucking visiting rights because the family court system is the most broken thing in America, and Keith will be shoved into some random group home that doesn’t care about him and won’t care about him and he’ll be treated like shit or worse not treated like anything at all, and he will grow up thinking that there is no one who loves him and no one to turn to and Shiro will never forgive himself or his mother or the world.

He needs to get his brother to the car.

He rushes down the beaten down concrete steps as fast as he can while still being careful in the dark. The car is half a block away, the only place they could find parking, and he starts to jog, ignoring the ache in his arms. He’s held Keith for longer. At the seven minute mark, he registers yelling voices and a door slam and Adam’s rapid footsteps behind him, and by the ninth they make it to their beat up piece of shit fourth-hand car, throwing open the back door, setting Keith down gently, bucking the kid in as quickly as they can manage.

Shiro has lost count of how much time they have, if they have any at all. His heart pounds so rapidly he can feel it everywhere in his body. He’s bitten the inside of his cheek so harshly he can taste blood. He feels like he’s gonna throw up.

He’s barely thrown a seatbelt on by the time Adam shifts into gear and tears out onto the busy street, cars honking at him. Shiro meets his eyes in the rearview mirror, trying to find strength in his look, in his support. He tries to tell himself that the worst part is over, now; Keith is with him, beside him in the back seat, Keith is going to stay with him forever, now, he is going to make his baby brother’s life stable from now on. They are starting to swim their way out of the deep end.

And then the wailing starts.

It’s loud. Keith takes a huge, deep breath, then lets out a noise that Shiro can only describe as agonised, so big and heavy that it pulls on his little body, straining against the seatbelt. His face is bright red from the force of it, and Shiro can count his teeth with how wide open his mouth is. Bizarrely, Shiro wonders if he’s loud enough for the windows to break, or their eardrums. He’s not sure if his own pain comes from his ears or his heart.

“I want my mama!” Keith sobs, shouts, screams, cries. “I want my mama! I want my mama!”

“I know,” Shiro whispers again, for what feels like the millionth time that night. Between Keith’s stuttering breaths Shiro hears Adam’s soft cries, looks up to see tears streaming down his face. He’s surprised to find his own face dry as a bone, the lump in his throat he’d felt earlier completely disintegrated. He feels hollowed out. “I know, Akira. I know. I know.”

Shiro wonders if this is what it feels like to drown.

[ricesinspo]

☆ — 'someone finally cares about you' prompts. by @ricesinspo, credits appreciated!

— ☆ —

[★] they wrapped their arms around you - you can't remember the last time someone hugged you like this.

[★] getting pulled aside while everyone else is yelling at you. they get you like none of the others do; they know not to yell.

[★] patiently listening to all of your problems. like actually listening.

[★] ^ with no judgement.

[★] they notice whenever something's wrong.

[★] letting you cry into their arms. telling you it's okay, everything is okay - and you know it's true because they're with you.

[★] letting you cry at all; realizing you don't have to hide your tears in front of them.

[★] "in a world where people don't care about me, i'm lucky to have you."

[★] ^ and then they're like "who hurt you" / "where are your __ i just want to talk" lmao

— ☆ —

[quinncupine]

So glad your request are open I love your writing! Here’s a request for you, Deku x fem reader where he’s out on patrol and calls his s/o to check up on her and she doesn’t answer, so he goes home and and sees someone holding the reader hostage and he saves her. Protective worried Izuku wins my heart every time lol

I definitely got a little carried away with this one. This request was a bit similar to the last one, so I took a few liberties, but I hope you'll enjoy it all the same!

Failsafe

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X Female Reader

Word count: ~7,600

Warnings: Blood, mild language, guns, explosvies, violence

MASTERLIST

The phone buzzed for a second time in his pocket. With a distracted sigh, he pulled it out, only getting a momentary glance at the caller's I.D. Your picture lit up the screen, and he couldn't help the smirk that pulled at the corners of his lips. He moved to answer it, but someone laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Deku, the negotiator just finished the call." Detective Tsukauchi said with a grim look. "Dynamight just arrived as well."

Izuku glanced back down at the phone and declined the call with a promise to call you back once this situation had been handled.

The command center that had been hastily assembled outside of the museum buzzed with activity. Officers had scattered about, all running orders and securing the perimeter of the increasing amount of curious onlookers. Evening had set upon them, bathing the area in golden rays blended with the flashing lights of the nearby cruisers.

Both men headed towards the back of a S.W.A.T. vehicle where Dynamight stood, grumbling about something to a man right outside the truck.

"Dynamight!" Deku called to his old friend as they approached, "It's good to see you! We'll not under these conditions, I suppose."

Hearing his name on familiar lips, he tensed, and turned to glare at the bright beam of a smile being shot his way. "Of course, you'd be here," was his apparent greeting.

"I'm glad you're here," Tsukauchi said to the feisty hero with a nod. "I'm sure you've been briefed on the situation at hand."

"Yeah, a bunch of rich ditz's got themselves kidnapped during their own fundraiser." He snipped, crossing his arms. "The idiots robbing the joint made a mistake during their little heist and decided to make things worse."

Tsukauchi cleared his throat. "Um, well, yes I suppose you could put it that way." Then he turned his attention to the man Katsuki had been talking to earlier. "This is Agent DeLuca. He's our chief negotiator tonight. He'll fill you in on the rest."

"Right," the older man nodded, looking between the three of them, "I've made contact with their leader. He didn't have much to say except for a list of outrageous demands."

"Outrageous?" Izuku asked, curious.

"Yeah," the man chuckled before turning serious. "They want a helicopter landed on that roof," he pointed to the museum, "five fresh pizza's waiting in said helicopter, along with four crates of top shelf sake. They want it all within twenty-eight minutes, or they'll execute their first hostage. And by my count, we have twenty-four minutes left."

"Pizza and booze?" Katuski scoffed. "What're they playin' at?"

"Twenty-eight minutes is a pretty specific timeframe." Izuku cocked his head. "And with those kind of demands It almost seems like they're waiting for something. Stalling."

The phone in his pocket buzzed again but this time he simply reached in and turned it off, mind swirling with possible theories. They had to be aiming toward a bigger goal here. What weren't they seeing?

"Do we have eyes and ears inside?" He peeked into the truck where a wall of screens shone through.

"We managed to patch through to the security system, but they've been hacked. They're just playing the same loop on repeat. We do have a specialist currently working on overriding it, but that's gonna take time." The detective rubbed his head while he explained. "From what we can gather, they still have roughly 18 guests and staff held hostage."

"And that quirk barrier is preventing anyone from getting in," Izuku murmured, examining the building. It emitted a faint purple aura. "I bet holding that up takes a lot of stamina. That could be why they were on such a specific time frame."

"Our men tried to get through." Tsukauchi frowned. "Anyone who touched that thing ended up numb from the shock. That's why you two are here. It might be possible to break through with your quirks. The only problem is alerting the captors."

"They said they'd start shooting the moment anyone stepped foot in that building. Agent DeLuca explained. "At the moment, we're in a deadly stalemate."

Tsukauchi's phone rang, and he excused himself.

Izuku pinched his bottom lip in thought as he faced the building. There were a few ways they could go about this. With Dynamight here, it should make things a little easier. However, he needed to be sure to keep the lives of the civilians as his first priority. So maybe if he-

"Deku," Tsukauchi grabbed his shoulder, pulling him from his ruminations. "Your wife is calling."

He blinked. You were calling again. When he instinctively reached into his pocket wondering how the detective new that, he paused, finally noticing the phone in his hand. Then he noticed the deep-set frown on his face.

A million questions scrambled through his head, but he locked them down in favor of taking the phone. "Hey, is everything alright?"

"Deku, listen closely," you said quietly. Your voice didn't sound right. A slightly slurred warbled edge.

had the baby hairs on his neck on end. "You're going to…to let the men in the museum leave unscathed. You will not pursue. Do this, and everyone gets -" You hitched your breath "- everyone gets to live."

A lingering silence pressed between the two of you. Your labored breaths a loud echo to his ears. It was wrong. So very wrong.

"Are you hurt?" He finally spoke, locking eyes with a concerned detective.

A shuddered sob answered him. It locked his heart in a vice grip to hear you so frightened. So vulnerable. How long had you been like that? How many calls did you try to make to him, and he simply ignored them all? Right when you needed him most. An equal flood of guilt and rage filled his veins. He could feel the sparks of his quirk begging to be let out in the wake of his anger, but he had to reel it in for your sake.

Behind your erratic panic, he could hear it.

The faint puffs of air around your own tattered breaths. Someone was there. Someone was there with you. And if he didn't act carefully, your life would be on the line.

"You have tw-twenty minutes to either s-save the innocent people in that building or come f-find me. There's not…there's not enough time to do both. If not…" you faltered before taking in a sharp drag of air and screaming. "Don't do it, Izuku! Save them! It's a trap. There's a-"

The call abruptly ended.

He stared at the screen. Too many conflicting emotions were battling for control to think clearly. Someone, a villain, had taken you. That much he was certain. There were more men than those five stuck in the museum. But it didn't add up. Even if there was someone from this crew working from the outside, there would simply not be enough time to plan something like this on the spot. Unless…unless it had been orchestrated from the start.

"Deku!" Katsuki snatched the phone out of his hands with an annoyed growl. "Get your head out of your ass. What was that about? You sayin' there's more of these losers?"

Izuku flinched at his words, not realizing he'd been mumbling.

"It's-she…they-" he locked eyes with Katsuki, "-they have her."

He straightened, glancing between the detective and Izuku. "Explain."

And so he did.

A nervous energy he couldn't quite tamper down ran rampant through his body. He itched to just take off and leave to go find you right then and there. But there was more to this than they realized, and if he ran headlong without forethought, it could put not just you but the other hostages in danger.

"That bastard!" Katsuki snapped. "They want to divide our forces. They think they can escape that way."

Yes, Izuku figured as much, but it still didn't change the fact that you were in some slimy villain's hand. He'd already tracked your location from the phone. It pinged from home, but whether you were still with it was up in the air. Those calls he'd missed seemed to be mocking him now.

He couldn't forgive himself for that.

You were calling for help.

You were calling for help, and he didn't answer.

You were calling for help, and he didn't come the one time you truly needed him.

What kind of lousy hero was he?

"Stop that," Katsuki slapped him upside the head, non to gentle either. "I know what you're thinking idiot. This isn't your fault. You just happened to be their target."

"What?" He asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"If they actually put a few braincells together to plan this thing, then it would make sense to have a backup plan. A failsafe of sorts." He tossed a glare towards the building before focusing back on Izuku. "They must've known your route. They must've planned for you to be in the area. What better way to take you out of the equation than to create your own hostage situation? Draw the heroes away."

"I believe Dynamight's got the right idea. They have more men involved than we thought. We'll need to revise our plan." Tsukauchi turned to relay this new information to the command tent.

"We're wasting time." Izuku turned to Katsuki, eyes wide and almost pleading. "I need to go. We're on a time limit. Whatever he has planned….I have to save her."

"You don't think I know that?" He scoffed. "I can handle things here easily. I bet those dumbasses didn't expect me to show up. My route doesn't fall into this sector."

Izuku nodded, grateful that he had arrived, then paused. "Why are you here?"

"Because I had to track down that bastard mugger that managed to escape through here. And if you thought I'd let you steal my crook, then you're dead wrong." He puffed up, daring Izuku to challenge him.

"First time a mugging actually worked in our favor then." He chuckled ironically and grabbed Katsuki's shoulder, his small smile slipping. "Thank you. I'll radio you as soon as I get her back."

"Yeah, yeah," he shrugged off his hand and shooed him away. "Now get out of here before I have to show you up again."

"Wait, Deku," Tsukauchi jogged back over, "I'm coming with you."

"I appreciate it, but I'm faster airborne." Izuku explained, impatience rearing itself in the form of a harried sigh.

"I know, but you're here under our jurisdiction. This kidnapping falls under that. I'm coming." He pulled out his keys and headed towards his car. "We can't rush into this without our own plan. Dynamight can handle things on this end, but i'm coming as backup. There are too many lives at stake here. If you barge in there with quirks blazing and emotions clouding your judgment, then it could spook the boss into doing something we'd all regret."

Logically, Izuku knew this. He did. But he also felt that overstored anger directing itself towards the detective. Izuku could handle a hostage situation. He's handled them before, and he most likely will have to handle them again. Then the rational side to his brain told him it would be good to have backup in case things did end up going wrong. Regardless, he couldn't waste any more time by arguing, so he simply nodded and got in the car.

The moment Tsukauchi started the car, he peeled out past the gathered crowd, straight towards Izuku's home. The same home he shared with you.

The house was silent aside from the low buzz of the television in the other room. It played some show Izuku had been watching earlier before he left for his evening patrol. A hero documentary he's made you watch hundreds of times already. You absentmindedly listened to it as you cooked dinner, making sure to make leftovers for him to reheat once he returned from work.

After making a plate for yourself and storing some in the fridge for him, you dumped everything in the sink for a soak with the intent to come back later to clean. The meal smelled good if your rumbling stomach had anything to say about it. Washing up your hands, you took your plate into the dining room where you could finish watching the show.

On the way there, the lights flickered overhead before the power went out. You paused, staring around in the darkness to see if it would come back on. With the television off, the lifelessness seem quite foreboding as you stood all alone. Left in the quiet of the apartment, you set the plate down and headed into the living room where your phone sat on the coffee table. A quick call to the power company should clear this up.

When you stepped into the living room, using muscle memory to feel your way to the coffee table, the lights suddenly flickered back to life. You blinked rapidly to readjust your eyes as light flooded your vision. Glancing around the empty room, you wondered what had made the power surge like that.

"Weird," you whispered to yourself as you picked up the remote to turn the television back on.

One look at the flatscreen, and you gasped, dropping the remote. A dark, murky shape loomed behind you in the reflection, and before you even had time to react, a sweaty hand wrapped around your mouth and pulled you right off your feet.

You were slammed down into the carpet with a hard smack to your side. The attacker didn't give you much reprieve as you were hoisted back up and thrown onto the coffee table, smashing a vase full of flowers and knocking everything off as he dragged you across the wood surface.

It took a few seconds for your brain to pick up on what happened, and you shoved your legs under his arms and kicked as hard as you could in the groin. He yelped and let go, stumbling back into the couch, clutching himself.

That defense only bought you a limited amount of time. You scrambled off the table and landed on your knees, still a bit disoriented. The phone had landed underneath it, undamaged, in a stroke of luck. Dropping to your stomach, you reached under and nabbed the device.

You knew exactly who to call.

The intruder's hands latched onto your ankle just as you gripped the phone. He pulled your leg so hard you were sure something popped out of its socket. You screamed and twisted over, kicking at him wildly.

He didn't bother trying to hide his face. The man towered over you. He sported a neatly trimmed silver beard with matching square eyes that drilled an icy glare into your own.

"Stop fucking moving!" He growled as you kicked his knee and he doubled over, releasing you.

"Get away!" you screamed out, scurrying to your feet and dashing around the couch in an effort to make it to the door. "Help!" With the phone in your hands, you dialed in the number. He could respond faster than any police. And you would just feel better hearing his voice.

The phone rang twice before it disconnected. There wasn't much time to think about it as you made it to the door. You turned the knob, but a much larger hand snatched your wrist at the same time. The door slammed shut along with your hope.

He towered over you for a terrifying moment before he rammed you into the door. Your body dropped to the floor like a sack of rocks. Pain seared up against your spine where you had impacted.

The phone landed out of reach, corner of the screen smashed. You just prayed it would work.

Still disoriented, you didn't react much when his burly hands seized your throat and easily lifted you off the floor. Panic set in. You didn't even realize what had happened until it was too late. When it did catch back up, you scratched anything you could reach in an exhausted effort to release the pressure on your neck. The only sounds that managed to escape were wheezing gasps that held no form.

Regardless of how this scenario ended, you knew it wouldn't end well for you. This man had strength on his side. Fighting him would be a mistake, so you had to figure out a way to escape. Or, at the very least, call for help. Unless you could reach your phone, you were screwed.

Slippered feet struggled to try to pry him off you. His fingers only seemed to tighten further. Black ebbed at the corners of your vision, and pain blossomed up your head. Thinking, let alone, fighting seemed nearly impossible.

As your swirling vision dimmed, your foot managed to connect with his stomach. You dug your heel in as hard as you could. The fingers around your neck loosened slightly, and the only thing you could think to do was bite down on his hand.

He yelped and threw you against the door where you slumped forward onto your knees, gasping for air. The phone sat within reach, but first you swung out, and sucker punched him right where it hurts most for a second time. He roared and fell backward.

You used the opportunity to dive for your phone and redial Izuku's number, praying he would answer quickly. With a tight grip on the phone, you launched to your feet, swaying dangerously as you stumbled for balance. That hit to your head did more damage than you thought. You were almost sure you had a concussion.

Turning to the door, you glanced down and your heart sunk. It had gone to voicemail again. What was happening? He always answered.

"You're not going anywhere!" He yelled, staggering back to his feet.

Shit. You couldn’t think clearly and wasted too much time stumbling around. Now, he stood between you and the door, giving you quite the death glare.

"Please, just take whatever you want!" you tensed as he stepped closer. "Just…please just let me go."

"That's kinda hard when it's you that I need, now ain't it sweetheart?" He sneered, grabbing hold of the collar of your shirt and twisting you around into a headlock. "Now come on, we've got a schedule to keep."

He squeezed hard, forcing you to shuffle forward, away from the door. He wanted to keep you here? Why? If this had been kidnapping, you were sure he would've taken you somewhere else. Why keep you here unless… Actually, you didn't want to think of those implications.

"Sit," he ordered, not giving you much choice as he shoved you into one of the dining room chairs.

You could try to run again, but you doubted you'd get very far before he caught up to you. And you weren't too keen on figuring out if he really wanted to keep you alive or not. He already looked pissed off as it was.

"What do you want?" you asked, hating how wobbly your voice sounded.

"I want you to make a call," he said, placing a hand on the back of the chair and the table, essentially trapping you between them, "to that little hero of yours."

He wanted you to call Izuku? That was strange. Usually, villains try to steer clear of heroes, not invite them to their crimes. He must have some plan to try to lure Izuku here to do who knows what. As much as you wanted him to come, you also didn't want to walk him right into a trap.

You steeled your nerves and glared up at him. "No."

"Oh, so you wanna play hero now, do ya?" He grinned. "Think you're ready to play in the big leagues, huh? Let's see if ya are!"

His hand moved too quickly. You nearly tumbled out of the chair as his palm struck your cheek. Aching streaks of pain weaved across your stinging skin.

"Don't test me." He leaned so close you could smell the tobacco on his breath. "You're gonna want to make that call, sweetheart, trust me."

He leaned across the table and dragged a large duffle bag into view. How long that had been sitting there, you weren't sure. You actually weren't even sure how he got into the locked apartment in the first place. It seemed a little late to worry about that now, though. With a sadistic smirk, he unzipped the bag and let you have a peek inside. It nearly made your heart stop.

"Now," He pulled out a stack of notecards from his coat and forced them into your hands. "Your job is simple. All you have to do is read these cards. Simple enough, eh?"

As you scanned the cards, your stomach flipped. Did he really expect you to read this? You were too distracted to see him pull out your phone until he grabbed your wrist and used your thumb to unlock it. He put it on speaker as the phone rang. It barely rang once before it went straight to voicemail for a third time. You were starting to worry Izuku had been hurt and unable to answer somehow.

"Hmm," the villain stared at the phone thoughtfully. "Guess he doesn't care so much about ya, huh?"

"Don't say that! You don't know anything about him!" You spit out, then bit your tongue, knowing you shouldn't stoop to his barbs.

"Well, I know he's too busy to answer ya darlin." He chuckled and dialed in a new number. "I'm sure the detective will be more willing to talk, yeah?"

Detective? You only knew one detective. It still struck you as odd that he would call the police on himself. But with the cards and what he had stored in that bag, you were starting to understand your role in all this.

The phone rang, and this time, someone did answer. You refused to say anything. It would be too dangerous to bring him here. Not with what he had planned.

That turned out to be the wrong decision as the man reached into his coat and brought out a handgun. He used the barrel to tap the cards.

"Deku," you whispered, glaring up at the criminal.

"Y/N? It's unusual to hear from you at this hour. Are you alright?" He sounded concerned.

"I…need to speak to Deku," you blinked hard. "Please."

A notable pause hung in the air before he hesitantly spoke. "…alright."

Tsukauchi was a smart man. One of the few who you thought could hold a candle to Izuku's analytical skills. If he could already tell something was wrong, then Izuku would pick up on it immediately.

Suddenly, his voice came on and threw you for a loop. They were already together? It must have to do with whatever these cards meant. It could be the reason he didn't answer. Izuku could be caught up in a case already. But the real question is how did the man know that, let alone know you would have Tsukauchi's number.

"Hey, is everything alright?" He sounded confused with a concerned undertone.

The cards shook in your hands as you scanned them again, debating just going off script. But with that gun looming in front of your face, you wisely decided to play nice.

"Deku, listen closely," you began quietly, knowing your voice had a slight quiver he would undoubtedly pick up on. "You're going to…let the men in the museum leave unscathed. Do this and everyone gets," those next words caught in your throat, "everyone gets to live."

They were using you as some sort of ploy to try to escape whatever situation this gang had found themselves in. Everything about this was just wrong. Now, Izuku would have to worry about rescuing you while also trying to do his job. You loathed every minute of it.

"Are you hurt?" His voice, quiet and low, betrayed the calm air he tried to maintain. A characteristic tone you've heard before. Anger and frustration just barely concealed.

The fact that he knew you were in danger filled you with a sort of relief that now he could finally do something about it. He could fix this. He always managed to fix things.

You tried to answer, but only a garbled sob of mixed syllables spilled from your mouth. It took you a moment to compose yourself again as the man huffed at you, tapping the cards impatiently with his gun.

"You have tw-twenty minutes to decide." More disturbing things were written, but you needed to warn him about what kind of trap he was walking himself into. "Don't do it, Izuku! Save them! It's a trap. There's a-"

The phone crunched in half under his brute strength and he threw it against the wall. Despite your very real fear, you managed to smirk at him. In hindsight, making a man with a gun angry was probably the worst thing to do in your situation. You learned that the hard way as he twirled the gun to his other hand and with a violent swing, he whipped the side of your head, knocking you clean off your chair.

Head throbbing, you clutched the gash just above your temple. A warm, sticky trail of dark red dripped down to your cheek.

"Got a loud mouth, don't ya?" he grinned and hauled you up only to drag you across the floor and dump your ragdoll form into the middle of the living room. You couldn't hide the panic as he knelt by your face, plopping the black duffle from the table next to him. "I'll just leave ya with a little present to greet your hero with. How does that sound. A nice parting gift."

The drive couldn't have taken any longer in Izuku's opinion. Even if Tsukauchi flew down the road, he still wasn't getting there fast enough. A few times, he had been tempted to just jump out and fly the rest of the way there.

He bounced his leg impatiently, glaring out the window as the silence seemed to permeate the air around them.

"We'll get her back," Tsukauchi broke the silence first.

Izuku turned his attention back to his phone. The three missed calls from you berated him each time he looked. He willed his leg to still, but all that pent up adrenaline didn't have any other outlet to escape from.

"This is my fault," he mumbled.

"No, it's not. There's no way you could have predicted this. No one could." Tsuhauchi sighed, turning sharply onto the next street. This was a conversation he'd had with the young man on multiple occasions. He was starting to understand how All Might felt, practically raising the boy through high school. "The only people to blame are the criminals responsible. You know that as well as I do. Thinking that way is only falling into their trap."

He made a noncommittal sound, turning back to obsessing over the missed calls. The rest of the ride was made in silence. Izuku had gotten so lost in thought that he didn't realize they'd parked until Tsukauchi opened the door.

Silently cursing, he blinked back into reality and got out of the car. The two of them headed for the apartment building. Your last known location was here. Though Izuku had doubts that you'd still be here. Most kidnappers took their victims to secondary locations.

They burst through the lobby, startling a poor woman taking her dog out for a walk. She jumped out of the way as they rushed past, yelping when she saw Tsukauchi's drawn gun. They paid her no mind, set on reaching their target.

Izuku took the lead. He raced up the stairs with a spark of his quirk, only stopping when he reached the right floor. Tsukauchi trailed up behind him at his fastest pace. He paused when the door came into view. Closed and undamaged. Whatever lay beyond might be an entirely different story, and it had his heart racing with fear.

"Take it slow," Tsukauchi huffed when he reached the last step. "We don't know what's waiting for us."

"I know," Izuku nodded, taking a spot in front of the door.

He signaled for the detective to take the side. Whoever was in there was sure to be expecting Izuku. He would have to act quickly. When they were in position he readied Fa-jin to break down the door with a strong kick of his leg, but the moment he lifted it, that sharp stab of Danger Sense screamed at him. He tensed and prepared to dodge whatever threat was coming his way, but when nothing came, he set his foot down, examining the door with a critical eye.

"Something's not right," he whispered, hand gently grabbing the handle.

The knob turned slowly in his hand and opened the door just slightly. Danger Sense lit up his spine once again. He drew in a sharp breath when he finally saw where the danger lay.

Opening the door any further could trigger whatever nasty surprise waited inside. He let go of the handle in favor of leaning closer to try to get a glimpse of the room. From his narrow line of sight, he didn't see anything amiss. He would need to see further somehow.

A shimmering line of wire ran across the entryway.

Trap, his mind so helpfully supplied.

"Here," Tsukauchi pulled out a small mirror with a telescopic rod attached. "Use this."

Izuku took it without question. The police had all sorts of gadgets at their disposal. He was just thankful Tsukauchi was here.

As discreetly as he could, he slipped the mirror partly into the doorframe. It gave him a full view of the living room. What he saw nearly made his racing heart stall.

The room was a mess. The coffee table had been kicked over, and the couch pushed off to the side to make room for the single dining chair plopped directly into the center of the disaster. The worst part was the person he cared for most sitting… no, tied to the chair. You were slumped forward and seemingly out cold. A gash in the side of your head trailed dark sticky blood down the side of your face and onto your shirt. Even from a distance, he could tell it was still wet. Still fresh.

You were draped in a throw blanket, which he found odd. It sent alarm bells off in his head. On the other hand, this entire situation was just one blaring alarm.

He was so close. All he needed to do was figure out a way to get to you without tripping any booby traps.

Angling the mirror down, he tracked where the nearly invisible wire led to. His eyes followed it across the floor and right up to you. It threaded under the blanket that had been wrapped across your chest. As he leaned in further to try to see you better, the door creaked slightly.

It caught your attention.

You stirred with a groan and when you looked up, he could see the duct tape sealed over your mouth. As you straightened in your seat, the blanket slipped from your shoulders.

He finally realized why the wire led to you.

"Tsukauchi," Izuku whispered, a slight tremble to his voice. "I need you to evacuate the building and…and call the bomb squad."

It took a few precious minutes, but Izuku had exited the building and now stood on the fire escape, examining the window. Another wire had been threaded around the handle. If he lifted it, it could trigger the bomb. He would need to go about this carefully.

The only good thing was that the top part of the window seemed to be unaffected. After scoping out the interior, he'd come to the conclusion that the man had fled. A smart choice. If you strap your hostage with an explosive, you don't want to be around for the aftermath. A dumb choice to target someone Izuku loved. He'd find the man later, that much he vowed. Right now, he just needed to get you as far from that bomb as possible.

He took a deep breath and in one solid strike, he shattered the top portion of the window. That startled you enough to flinch in your seat, pulling the wires taut.

"Hey, it's alright," Izuku called out softly as he navigated through the window, careful of any more surprises. "It's just me. It's Izuku."

You deflated a little, nodding to show you understood.

The moment he landed, he carefully picked his way through the room until he came face-to-face with you. Your eyes carefully tracked his movement, wary of the various strings attached to the heavy vest you were wearing. He knelt in front of the chair, cupping your bruised cheeks. At the soft contact, you squeezed your eyes shut to blink away the tears.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm right here," He kept his voice low and comforting as he offered you a small smile. "I'll get you out of this, I promise."

Then he dropped his attention down to the explosive. They had strapped you into a Kevlar vest with the clunky explosive sewn right into the fabric. The most worrisome thing was the clock. The numbers were steadily counting down.

Nearly four minutes left.

A time limit.

You did say he had twenty minutes to decide. Didn't the criminals inside the museum say something similar? They must've been working off the same clock. No wonder they gave such a specific time frame.

"Don't worry," he said, looking up when you made a muffled whine of a cry. "I've got people coming to help. People who can disarm this thing in no time." He glanced at the kitchen where you kept the knives. "I just need to get it off you first."

Your reaction caught him off guard. You wildly shook your head, careful of the wires pulling around you. He turned back to you, eyes wide, and hands held out in a pacifying gesture. You only seemed to grow more desperate, shaking your head faster.

"Hey," he laid a hand on your cheek to stop you and forced you to look in his eyes. "Okay, okay."

As you fought back your ragged breaths through your nose, he gently gripped the edges of the tape and slowly peeled it back. You winced as the tape pulled against your skin. The moment your mouth could move, you went into a panicked rant.

"You can't! You can't cut it," you cried, words jumbling over each other as you tried to push them all out at once. "There's a- a failsafe inside the vest. You cut it, and it triggers the bomb. It's the same for these wires," you eyed the wires all connected to various parts of the room. "Any of them pulls too tightly, and it explodes. But the time limit - oh my god, Izuku. It's almost up, I don't - there's no time! There's no time!"

He wrapped his scarred fingers around your chin to center your focus and shushed you before you could run out of breath. "It's going to be okay. I'm here now. I'll get you out of this." His eyes tracked over the vest again, scanning every part of it. He didn't want to tell you that the bomb squad would be at least ten more minutes. There was no time to wait for them. "I'll be right back. Trust me, I promise I'll get you out of this."

If your hands were untied, you would've reached out to stop him. Now that he had come, you were terrified of him leaving. He had a comforting presence that everyone had come to rely on as a hero. He always kept his word. If anyone could get you out of this nightmare, it would be Izuku. You just had to trust he knew what to do. Though the bomb strapped to your chest had built up a raw terror in your chest, making it hard to get even a solid breath in.

Izuku, true to his word, only disappeared for a moment before he returned, kneeling at your side with a knife. "I can disarm it."

Could he? You didn't want to doubt his skills, but you also didn't remember him ever working with bombs like this before.

"Didn't I tell you about those few weeks I spent with SWAT?" He smirked as if reading your mind. "Taught me all sorts of cool stuff." There was a hard edge to his casual tone as he pried open the front of the device to reveal the bevy of wires inside. "This was nothing compared to the kinds of stuff we did. I'll have you out in no time."

You nodded. It was about as much movement the vest would allow at the moment. You could scarcely believe a small contraption like this could be your doom in a matter of mere minutes.

"Izuku," you whispered, looking up at the ceiling as if that would put any distance from you and this death machine. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" He asked, eyes flitting up to meet yours before he refocused on the wires. "This isn't your fault."

Silence fell over the room as you absorbed that. Your fingers held a death grip on the arms of your chair, pulling against the restraints. It felt as if the room grew smaller. The beeping only seemed to be getting louder by the second. Panic had nestled itself deep in your chest, spreading throughout your body as the seconds passed.

"H-how much longer?" You dared to peer down at the clock, angling your head to try to see for yourself.

He didn't answer. You watched his fingers hover over the wires, subtly glancing at the timer but refusing to speak. In other words, not long.

"How much, Izuku?" you said again, gritting your teeth.

"Two minutes," he finally ground out. "I've almost got this figured out. I just need to make sure this one is- it should be…" he trailed off, as his finger followed where the wire connected.

Two minutes.

That wasn't a lot of time. You both knew that much.

"Izuku, I don't want you dying too. Please, just go." You warbled out, straining your head up to the ceiling again to try to stop the ebb of tears. "I don't want you dying for me."

"No one is dying tonight," Izuku chose a wire and locked eyes with you. That determination you'd grown so used to seeing cemented on his face. He looked so confident, you almost believed anything was possible. Hell, maybe it was in a world with someone as determined as him. "Are you ready?"

Drawing in a forced breath, you chewed on your lip and nodded. He hesitated for just a moment before bending the wire and cutting it with the knife. The two of you sat in complete silence, breaths held as he stared at the timer. The numbers stopped just before the minute mark, and relief sagged through his body.

"See, I told you I-" the words died on his tongue as the clock beeped twice and suddenly began counting down at double the speed. "-shit!"

"Get out of here!" You tried to shove him away with what little movement you had in the restraints, wires be damned if it meant he could still survive. "Please, save yourself! Go!"

"NO!" he pulled at the bundle of wires, muttering as his eyes darted between them. "I made a promise, and I refuse to break it! There's no way I'd ever leave you!"

He picked a wire and sliced through it. You squeezed your eyes shut with a whimper.

The beeping stopped again with eight seconds to spare.

Izuku froze, body tense as he stared at the machine, daring it to start again. After a few terrifying seconds, he looked up at you, wide-eyed and slightly shaky. He swallowed, setting his face into a more composed look as he offered you a small smile.

"It worked." He breathed out.

Those unbidden tears leaked from your eyes as you drooped your head froward with a heavy sigh of relief. All that terror that you were storing had nowhere to go. Every part of you buzzed with adrenaline. You were quite literally shaking in your socks.

"Hey," he set down the knife and found your chin. "Are you okay?"

"Still got a bomb strapped to me so 'okay' is a bit relative at the moment." You coughed a harsh chuckle out. Maybe it was the frayed nerves trying to find an outlet out of your system, but you laughed again, harder this time, your body just expelling all your emotions out in the form of near hysteric laughter.

"Uh, right," he mirrored your smile and easily unhooked all the wires connected from your vest to objects around the room. Now that the main trigger had been deactivated, these were just decorations. "I think I'll let the professionals handle this vest. They should be here any minute. But I can at least get you out of those restraints."

Using the knife, he easily tore through the tape to free your arms and legs. When you had freedom of movement again, you grabbed his sleeve and pulled him close, careful of the disarmed bomb on your chest. It was still an explosive, afterall.

"Thank you," you whispered, "thank you for not leaving.

He brushed the hair out of your face and placed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "I told you, I made a promise, and I never break my promises." Then he pulled back to give you a pout. "But please, don't ever tell me to leave you like that ever again. I could never even think of doing something like that. I would never abandon you, you know that, right?"

The way he looked at you made you feel like you'd kicked a puppy. But in your mind, you just wanted to protect him, too. For the moment, though, you simply nodded and buried your face into his chest, knowing you were safe with him. That you would always be safe with him.

It took another six minutes before the squad arrived and another ten tense minutes with Izuku gripping your hand the entire time to safely remove the bomb. As soon as it slipped off, you rushed into Izuku's arms, trying to entwine yourself as deep as you could with him.

"What about the other hostages? The criminals, too?" you asked, twisting your head up to look at him. "The ones you were supposed to let go?"

"Kacchan, uh, Dynamight handled it." He assured you. "He didn't even need any help taking them down. I think they were counting on this scenario working in their favor. The hostages are safe, and the criminals are in custody."

"Even…" you pinched the fabric of his uniform between your fingers, dropping your gaze to stare at the stitchwork.

"We'll find him. I won't let him get away with this." He assured you, tightening his own hold on you. "But right now, all you need to worry about is getting some rest. Well, actually, we need to get this -" he ghosted his fingertips over the cut above your temple, "-looked at first."

"I'm fine." you waved him off.

"Yeah, you will be," he agreed, pulling you over to the medic who had set up shop on the dining table, just waiting for you. "Once we get you fixed up."

With a small sigh, you sat in one of the chairs, facing the medic. Izuku, who you still had a hold of his sleeve, moved to stand behind you.

"Are you going to leave? I mean, I guess you should. There are other people out there who need you too. And with this whole mess, I'm sure there's a lot of-"

The words were just spilling out of you now, and in the back of your mind, you realized you sounded just like Izuku. You only managed to stop when he bent over and lightly bumped his forehead against yours.

"Take a breath," he gave you a fond smirk, "I'm not going anywhere. Like I said, Kacchan handled it. The only place I need to be right now is by your side."

He stood hunched just inches from your face, and all you could do was stare into his eyes. There were so many emotions swirling through those big green irises, but the biggest one shining through was his sincerity. A solace you didn't realize you needed until just this moment. The warmth he emitted was so comfortable, and the sheer exhaustion from your ordeal had you leaning back into the chair with a tired nod.

"Okay, I trust you," you mumbled, pulling his arm down so you could hug it. "You're a really good hero, Izuku."

He blushed at the soft comment and glanced at the paramedic trying to busy herself with getting her supplies out, but even she couldn't help the little smile that played on her lips.

"She's right, you know," the medic chimed in, gently cleaning your cheek of the blood. "I'd say that was the work of a top-class hero. You should be proud."

Izuku rubbed the back of his head. Years in the field and still hearing something like that overwhelmed his heart so he decided to focus back on you. Your hands were interlocked with his and casually fiddlin with his bony fingers.

A lot that could have gone wrong tonight, and he knew he would be certain to go over every detail in full to make sure those mistakes would never happen again. Not if he was going to be a hero that could protect not just you, but everyone.

Right now, though, he put his analysis on the back burner and turned his full attention to what was most important.

You.

Taglist: @stanny-uwu @lykingart @rei165

[ruporas]

imagine if your plant au ww grew and mutated like the plants in trimax. cuz it's not often, but sometimes they almost seem to Melt. limbs fusing, growing tendrils, extra joints, all the fucked up shit.

vash did it once or twice i think, but as a plant himself didnt seem that bothered to me. but as a human mentally, i feel like wolfwood would Panic to destabilize like that. anyone would, i think. its kinda playing on an innate fear in humanity

(pretty sure this was supposed to be a domestic comfort au but i couldnt help thinking about this haha whoops sorry)

YEAHHH yeah Yeah………. Fantastic tasty concept… i’ve considered that before but never poked at it too deeply because he doesn’t have a lot of power and if he uses all of it to result in a destabilized form, he’d die. from what i’m assuming out of the scenes i remember, the destabilization tends to happen after a great burst of power so…

tw body horror, blood

but let’s say his body Is able to keep up with it and he does accidentally start to destabilize. my first thought was that he wouldn’t be cognitive when it happens and if he was, yeah i think he’d freak out 😭 he already has a disconnect with his own body in more ways than one so seeing these feathers engulf him and his body shifting in ways it never had would scare him. i also think he’d benefit from his history with vash though and having bore witness of the “monstrous” ability time and time again, he wouldn’t be as petrified by it

along with the fact his body had been fucked up by serums and the EoM experiments, after he has a moment of calm to himself, he’d think of it as no different. it’s just now more obviously visible to people other than himself. i think the main thing that would scare him is the losing control part because he’s Also witnessed what that was like for vash 😔 like said, his body is wholly unfamiliar territory for him and since it’s New for humanity too, no one has any solutions, even vash. every new found thing is played by ear and both vash and wolfwood are hopeful that whatever vash knows will apply the same for wolfwood.

it’s a fair assumption considering what wolfwood inherited is a bit of vash’s energy; what’s given to keep him alive was vash’s originally. i have thoughts about that but none i can verbalize properly,. but have some more sketches and thanks for sending this in for the brainworms

[babybirbb]

i need more carmy stuttering fics. i need more richie taking care of carmy fics. i need more adhd carmy fics. i need more hurt/whump carmy fics