#i can answer them at my own pace with information I know without any expectation higher than what i think

[itz-pandora]

I feel like I made everyone sad n now I feel bad

[hereathemoment]

“I can break the mating bond”

            The bottom trim of Nesta’s cape slips against the stone floor, gliding into a halo around her feet as she stops in front of towering stone bars lining the length of a cell. The man within sits against the wall in the far corner, with his hands clasped and dangling between the bent V of his legs and hidden in the shadow of the window’s small glow. Nobody bothered to give her any information beyond the rudimentary understanding necessary for today’s mission. The threat in the East is embodied by one man with untold power and before her sits one of his few confidants. Rhysand didn’t command her here because of the power she stole from the Cauldron, no—her power is apparently too unruly and disobedient for her to risk using it without his direct supervision. Instead, she was reduced to that of an errand boy, sent to the Prison as a messenger. Nesta is to inform the prisoner of his impending death should he continue with his silence. She remembered the Inner Circle discussing it—who was to go to the Prison, discussing her—a perfect mix of threatening and expendable, and she agreed to go, resigned to the mirage of choice they’re known for. It doesn’t escape her that the cell this fae sits in now was very nearly hers, had her sister not rejected Amren’s suggestion and picked the House for her instead. Nesta didn’t know then that Cassian was written in the fine print, a required quid-pro-quo for a warm bed, and she wonders if she would’ve preferred the comfort of a cell had it been offered to her.  

            “Your execution will be held in the morning. You have until then to tell the Night Court what you know and decide where your loyalties lie” The hollowness of her voice fades into the empty corridor of the Prison. “If you refuse…may your next life grant you more fruitful loyalties.” She twists at her parting words, making the announcement brief and perfunctory but offering him the hidden well-wishes of her own heart. She is within a foot of the doorway before the low timbre of his voice reaches her, echoing in the space between them. His tone is not frantic or angry as she may have otherwise expected, but promising, “They call him a bride-stealer sweetheart. I was sent here for you, Nesta.” The dull click of her heels reverberated against the stones as she turned to face him. She doesn’t question how he knows her, doesn’t bother wondering how he knew she’d come. “And how,” she begins, “Do you think to take me?” Nesta only finishes once she’s facing him once more, “You’re the one captured in a prison cell, and I am the one about to walk free.”

            His sardonic smile contradicts her, but he merely says, “Come with me. I think you’d like Koschei,” he adds with a gentle laugh, “I know he’d like you.” Koschei… the fae male doesn’t seem bothered at all that he’d just betrayed his master’s name. Odd, considering neither Azriel nor Rhysand were able to carve it out of him just hours ago. When Nesta seemed unimpressed and seemed unbothered to deign an answer, the man continued, “I have a unique ability to see within someone’s heart and see their most innermost, dearest desire. Koschei appreciates my particular skill of… making dreams comes true. It’s proven to entice quite the loyal following.”

            “Ah, another Court of Dreams then,” Nesta scoffs, without acknowledging his slip. “Spare me,” she says harshly, but her mind follows quietly with, what I want cannot be given. He offered that she go with him, but he's not going anywhere considering his circumstances. Nesta was ordered to deliver a simple message and she had. Her job here is done. She makes her leave with a subtle eyeroll and quick clench of her fists. But she had only made it a few paces away before the prisoner’s next words immobilize her entirely, the heel of her right foot frozen about the ground mid-step. One, two, three stalled seconds continue for small eternities as hope and freedom and happiness is dangled in front of her so cavalierly by this smirking fae lounging on the dirty floor of a dingy prison.

“I can break your mating bond.”

The silver in her eyes is told by the excitement on his face and she throws herself against his cage, her hands digging into the stoner pillars separating the two of them. Nesta’s power slithers through her veins, twinning around her anger and burning her alive. “Promising someone what they want most is a dangerous game to play when you can’t deliver.” Her words come out as a growl, more monstrous than they’ve ever been, more fae than she’d care to acknowledge. But what he had said… what he had offered her… it was alluring and seductive and wholly impossible. She’s new to this world, but she’d never be so naïve as to believe him. But, if it were true…

            He carried on calmly, though the small curve of his mouth betrayed his delight at seeing her seethe. “Come with me, Nesta. Join us.” Through the buzzing in her head, she dimly marks the irony of an imprisoned man continually offering her freedom. His gaze is steady, his posture relaxed, his mind sure of her choice. “My execution will be held in the morning. You have until then to decide where your loyalties lie.”

Why that little—

He sighs, perfectly content with his situation, certain her loyalties lie with herself. Nesta wonders what he knows about her circumstances—about her family’s betrayal and her gilded servitude. Or maybe he’s heard about the stories Feyre had spread about their childhood, and just assumed the eldest Archeron sister would be selfish enough to break the sanctity of a mating bond on whim. His low chuckle escorts her out as she leaves without another word. The draw of his offer is too great to be dismissed, but her caution prevents her from accepting outright. So Nesta just leaves. Confused. Angry. Tempted. By tomorrow morning indeed.

[ryokaidesu]

I thought about what to ask and decided this: if there was a person in Ogata's life who would be "pure". this person is trying to get closer to Ogata and at some point says, "Ogata, you remind me of my older brother."

★ 尾形 / 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ★

★ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: /// ★

★尾形 = 𝐎𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐇𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞, 運 = 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 ★

★𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦: 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞! / 𝐍𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐱/𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧. ★

★ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 ★

There was nothing They could do. No matter how many times They tried to please Him with words or actions, help Him around, give Him space to not become a burden and went to meet Him again – 尾形 did not care. He avoided Them. Without exception. Not only such stubbornness and isolation kicked Them into a spiral, where They started lacking self-esteem, in the end, 尾形 painted a picture of clear ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ into Their mind.

Like a swing, Their feelings go up and down, but nothing ever can break The outcome. They always try to get close.

The night got colder as the Sun left with its rays behind the mountains earlier. And 尾形 went for a walk. Making His decision to not bring His rifle and only enjoy a walk around the forest and town. His coat, hanging, was soaked wet from snow that's been melting since weekend’s hunt. Thinking it is better than going out without it, 尾形 wraps Himself in it and steps outside.

The white powder cracking under His steps, those glamorous icicles under roofs, boots and shoes left outside the door. Everything was peaceful, so quiet, tender. Except for a chatter, which could be heard from one side, where the path leads between brothels and restaurants. His view caught a glimpse of lights fading away. To not stray away, He took the more lively path.

Cold season kept people gathered inside warm places, no wonder, it started snowing in no time. And as 尾形 wandered as a lost traveler without no finish line in sight, His thoughts picked up and image of Them. Naturally, His pace sped up.

“尾形–san! 尾形–san!” They hurried after Him, trying to catch a breath. 尾形 looked Them up and down, expecting almost everything. “I was informed that it is Your birthday today.” “Yes, it happens to be.” with a nod, 尾形 looks away for a second, but instead ignoring subsequent words or showing a shock of Their sudden appearance, He stays quiet and listens. They start looking around Their pockets, before finally handing a piece of paper to 尾形.

“Here, he–re, I–uh I–...” for a moment, They cut Themselves off, awaiting another deep breath before They continue. “Please, meet me there. I have a gift for You.” but 尾形 did not answer. He looked at the paper, His hands playing with it. “I’ll consider it.” with these words, He left Them of one’s own.

Playing with the paper, 尾形 sighs as He sees the building towering over Him. Will it be another speaking? Another way to just get Him in to meet up? Should He really come in? After all, the path that took Him there could still take Him home. And counting in the way it is – it always has been. They really want to spend some time with Him. But any form of attachment is not good. Even after all that happened. He is still being followed.

At first, the words of admiration, only to show how ‘wonderful’ and ‘prideful’ it is to be there with Him. Another bump of incoherent gestures that leads to shared time. Andpast these weeks, figuring out His personal information to lead Him to possible meetings. “How the hell am I supposed to deal with that?” another sigh leaves His mouth.

“But 尾形–san! I really wanted to help You out with all that work.” They hand Him the file. “尾形–san, if I may know why is that the part of Your routine. How exactly does that help?” They note in curiosity, looking down at His items He uses daily. “尾形–san, don’t You want anything?” asking upon entering the same room. “尾形–san, I think…” They started. “尾形–sama, I came from…” the first day They met.

Nothing ever made sense to Him. Without believing it nor trying to sort it out in His head. He does not admit it after all. It is as it used to be. Back then. This time, without such war, without such features, such bloodline and name. Another way it hunts Him and He must repay.

The door opened, head looking out to the night’s cold covering. Upon seeing 尾形, They rush out. “尾形–san! Are You alright? Aren’t You too cold? We’ve been awaiting You!” “You? There’s more of You?” He shivers, stepping closer to the heat. “Of course, we all made this small gathering party for Your birthday!” They lead Him inside with a wide smile. His fingers started moving again, cheeks turned red and now, 尾形 was in need of a handkerchief.

“May I?” He asks, looking around. With His colleagues in chatter or eating the delicious food this particular restaurant offers, He gets to Himself again. “Of course!” They hand Him one, the night goes on. It would be a complete lie if 尾形 said He did not like it. From food to conversation, He was satisfied. “You see, I quite enjoy this.” His words hit Them. reminding Them of much.

“No, I don’t need no help.” His head turned around, completely ignoring every other question. “There is no need to know about my stuff.” His firm tone of voice set a barrier between. “I don’t.” He answers. “Hm.” again, like yesterday. “So You are the new one? Fine, let’s see what You’re made of.” Their eyes meet. Something within Them sparks. And Their intuition tells Them, that He’s the one to follow.

“尾形–san?” once again, standing in the middle of snowy crossroad, 尾形 catches Himself lost in thoughts. “What was it that You wanted before I go?” A silence fills the night. Everlasting moments of catching confidence weaken, but something inside rattles. A goosebumps, a spine chill, words that were hidden for different types of matters.

“尾形–san, You remind me of my older brother.” – Was it Him all along? Was it me? Or was it someone, something, ... that let Them cross Their paths? 運.

[wolfnprey]

tid bit tuesday

I was kindly tagged by @folk-fae! I've missed some of my wip tags from last week, so here's a good chunk of tid bit to make up for it and hopefully I haven't already shared. So here's some reincarnation!

There are many things that Ryder is capable of without Eddie. He's just the one who's spent his life believing it. 

"Does that mean you expect me to stay by your side forever then?" Eddie questions teasingly, dipping the tip of his tongue against the seam of Ryder's lips to feel them part in invitation. "To make sure you keep going?" 

Ryder groans with an aborted shift of his hips against Eddie's. "You're never allowed to leave my side. Have I not made that clear yet?"

The next step, Eddie knows, is to let them rut against one another until they're both spinning with need and then bending Ryder over that rocking horse to fuck him with abandon. And it's a step that he'd gladly take. If there wasn't a more pressing matter to get to.

They'll make up for it later. Ryder always makes sure that they do. 

"Nothing can make me leave your side," Eddie vows. It's the same vow he's been making for years. Now there's no one who can take it away from him. "But before I go into depth on it, we're needed at the refineries."

Ryder slumps against the wall, his pout evident. "Since when?"

Playing it safe, Eddie takes a step back. "Cormac informed me before I came looking for you." 

Not one to shirk his position as Baron, Ryder permits himself another moment to mourn the loss of their moment before he straightens up and puts his mind to business. "Then we shouldn't keep them waiting any longer." 

Instead of letting Eddie lead the way, Ryder slips his arm around the Regent's waist so that they walk in tandem. Cormac, as promised, has the car waiting for them at the entrance, and says nothing of how long it's taken for them to get to it. Eddie gets in after Ryder, who rarely allows him to sit up front anymore.

The drive to the refineries isn't a long one but it does provide a drastic change in the land. The fields eventually give way to dry, yellowed patches and dirt as they path becomes surrounded by the long-standing oil wells and Armadillo flags standing proudly along the way. Oil drums are stacked appropriately with a golden insignia on each one while armed guards keep a watchful eye on their surroundings. 

Jade, dressed refinedly in blue silks, is waiting for them with one of the foremen, both wearing troubled looks. The weightlessness Ryder had carried in the nursery is replaced with the solidity of a concerned Baron. 

They're barely out of the car when Jade steps forward. "Productivity is down, Ryder."

"How down?" 

Jade looks to the foreman, who fidgets with his helmet before answering, "Thirty percent."

Ryder's hand falls to his belt as he walk in the direction of the office, the foremen having to pick up his pace to match the Baron's long strides. "Thirty percent? How are we down that much?" 

Eddie stays back to walk with Jade, letting the foremen take care of explaining. He already has his own conclusion on how it is. "The Widow has her hand in it, doesn't she?" 

Jade's never been good at hiding her emotions. It's easy to see her trepidation while she keeps her eyes on Ryder's back, voice low to stay between the two of them. "If they're not scared of her then they're being paid off by her. At this rate, our control of the territory will wane and less will be inclined to follow Ryder's rule as their Baron."

Sounds like it's exactly what The Widow wants. She's been quiet for months, which means she could have been planning for exactly this.

"I'll look into upping the amount of Clippers," Eddie tells her, "see what I can do to keep the Cogs from abandoning their work." 

"You mean Ryder will have you do it," Jade responds. It's not demeaning or dismissive like Lydia often liked to treat Eddie's opinion. It's only a reminder of the way things work; Regents can lend a strategic ear to their Barons for assistance but all orders had to be taken as if that Baron is the source. Ryder's clever in his own right. That's why they made such a formidable pair. 

"So I do," Eddie returns. Jade gives him a smile in solidariity. She's not a Baronness but Ryder still gives her a comfortable life and a position of power. Eddie's not interested in the role himself so he's happy to see Jade get to take it. 

The unsettled look is back on Ryder. They come to a stop as he turns to Eddie and Jade with uncertainty. The very kind of uncertainty that Eddie had extinguished back at the plantation. But Eddie's been waiting for the Widow to make her move. He's not letting her send Ryder spiraling into more doubts.

"Jade can reach out to Baron Chau for us," Eddie suggests calmly, "for you to make a new deal with him to get more Cogs."

Jade nods in agreement. "And we can give the loyal ones incentives. Cut hours and up the rations. That will give us some time."

Ryder's face smooths out. That's all he needs to focus on, making plans and prepare for what else the Widow might have in store for them. "Make it happen," he orders the foreman, moving back in the direction of the car.

"Are you going to stay for much longer?" Eddie asks Jade. "Or would you like a ride with us?"

"I should stay," she answers, "go over the schedules."

"I'll have Cormac stay behind with you." 

"There are enough Clippers here already," Jade declines kindly, "I'll be fi–"

A quick whoosh is all the warning Eddie gets before a truck full of oil drums explodes. 

The force of it throws everyone back several feet, pain shooting up Eddie's hip from the hard landing he takes against the pavement. The enflamed drums and vehicle block Eddie and Jade from where Ryder's landed near the car. 

Distantly through the ringing in his ears, Eddie could hear Ryder's desperate cries. "Eddie! Eddie! No!"

"Get him out of here!" Eddie shouted, rolling onto his hands and knees to push himself back up. He was able to see Cormac and some of the other Clippers holding their Baron back from the flames, from the next threat of danger. "Cormac! Get the Baron out of here! I'll be fine!"

Tagging :@oliverstaark @trippedandfell @honestlydarkprincess @useramor @oneawkwardcookie

[star-going-supernova]

If you're still continuing Price to Pay, maybe Michael asking about the near murder? He looks like he suspected a certain someone was out and about.

We’re down to the last handful of this round’s tumblr generated prompts! Here’s number 5! This is a continuation, as you can see, of Price to Pay. It takes place later in the day after they all meet for the first time. 

Small World

Vanessa wasn’t sure what she expected when Michael pulled her away from the table. The three kids barely noticed them leaving—if anything, they were happy to have the spin dip to themselves. It was a beautiful evening, and the restaurant they’d gone to after their midday meetup went so well had an outdoor seating area and garden attached. It was to the privacy of the garden that Michael guided her. 

She raised an eyebrow as he paced in a flowering alcove, but she didn’t push. Her patience was rewarded. 

“Okay, okay, look,” Michael started, “I don’t want there to be big secrets between us, and I don’t want to lie to you. Or make things harder for you. You’re our only family left, and I’m not going to do something stupid to mess that up.” 

She nodded slowly. “Good communication is important,” she agreed, not without caution. 

He made a very pained face. “Yes, absolutely. This is, well—ha. I won’t lie, this is pretty, pretty bad.” 

“I promise not to react on any initial emotional impulse?” she offered. 

Michael didn’t look wholly comforted by that, but he continued nonetheless. “Thanks. Yeah. Listen, when you said that Gregory found you after he got away from his kidnapper… was that because you’re a night security guard at the mall it all happened in?”

Reeling twice over—that was not the topic of conversation she thought he’d be broaching—she eyed him. “…Yeah. I was. I quit after that, though. How’d you…?” 

Running his hands through his hair, Michael asked, “Was it at East Creek Mall? Over in Little Rock?” 

Vanessa crossed her arms. She wasn’t sure if she should be angry or not at the questions. “How the hell do you know that? They said it was all being kept quiet.” 

After letting out a shaky breath, Michael plopped down on the alcove’s bench and said, “I know because the police gave us some details when they were questioning us. And they were questioning us because our monster of a father kidnapped and tried to kill a kid at East Creek.” 

With his head in his hands, he couldn’t see Vanessa’s reaction. That was probably for the better, considering the contortions she felt her expression go through. 

“What,” was all she could say. Her brain was reduced to static. 

“I think my dad tried to kill your kid. Before he was even your kid and before we even knew each other.” 

“Small world,” she said, dazed. And then, in realization, “You looked nauseous. When I mentioned it—you got all pale.” 

He nodded, looking quite miserable. They both fell silent, lost in their own thoughts. Vanessa decided quickly that she wasn’t going to take out any lingering feelings of rage at the perp—their father, what the hell—on her cousins. She’d never even found out the kidnapper’s name, largely because she had been focused on getting custody of Gregory, who wanted nothing more to do with the man. 

Less easily, she decided not to tell Gregory. Not yet, at least. He still had panic attacks and nightmares sometimes, and no good could come from this new information. 

“I appreciate you telling me,” Vanessa said. “I mean it. And I know you’re wondering if I’m… okay with it, I guess, but—are you?” 

“He was an awful man,” Michael said, which was answer enough. “I’d thank you guys for getting him locked up, but there’s no way to phrase that without it sounding bad.”

“Congratulations on finding the way that doesn’t sound too bad, though.” They exchanged weak smiles. “Do your siblings know?”

“We’ve kept the details away from Evan, and I don’t think Elizabeth made the connection—or is likely to make the connection. She kinda… mentally disowned our dad and just doesn’t think about him anymore.” He slumped back into the bench. “I’m glad it doesn’t haunt her. I just wish I could do the same. I take it you don’t want Gregory to know?” 

“Not anytime soon. Maybe in a few years, or if I think it’s possible he could find out from elsewhere.” She sighed, suddenly tired. “We should head back. Make sure they haven’t ordered all the desserts.” 

Michael chuckled and stood. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” 

“I only made that mistake once.”

“Might be twice now.” 

She cursed under her breath and hustled into the restaurant. The kids were as they’d left them, if exuding a suspicious amount of innocence. Vanessa groaned as she dropped into her chair. “We haven’t even eaten, you menace,” she complained to Gregory. 

“I am innocent until proven guilty,” he said. 

“That right there, that admission itself is proof of guilt.” 

Gregory grinned, and Elizabeth snickered, hiding behind the menu—no, scratch that, the dessert menu. As she bonked her kid over the head with her own laminated menu, she pretended not to catch the brief conversation between Michael and Evan. 

Her youngest cousin must have asked if something was wrong because Michael said quietly, “Everything’s just fine, promise. I wanted to ask Vanessa’s opinion on sleepovers. Would you like that, you think?” 

“Oh.” Evan wiggled happily in his seat. “Yes, please.” 

“Then we’ll make it happen.” Michael leaned a little closer to his brother and whispered, “I’m glad you made a friend, Evan.” 

And Evan smiled, tentative and bashful. “Me too.” 

[rafor]

Chapter 23 - Day 6 - The Glitch

All I have in this unfamiliar place is a schedule. How wonderful. As I neared the gates, a sudden pang of doubt struck me. Had I informed Erebus of my departure? Or had I overlooked this crucial detail in my haste? I felt a surge of guilt and anxiety. Even though I was accompanied by two of the closest members of the guardians, Fulgor and Calida, I had no assurance that they had communicated my plans to the others. I considered turning back and looking for Erebus. I was always punctual, if not early, for any appointment or obligation. It was part of my nature, driven by a fear of disappointing others or missing out on something important. But before I could act on my impulse, I heard a loud thud and felt a gust of cold air. Fulgor and Calida had landed next to me, their massive griffin bodies casting long shadows over the ground. They had flown so quietly that I hadn’t noticed them until they were right beside me.

“Good morning, Raphael,” Fulgor greeted me with a smirk. “Having second thoughts?”

“Maybe,” I admitted reluctantly.

“Are you afraid of venturing outside?” he asked, his tone teasing.

“No, I’m just afraid I’m not permitted to. Did you tell the others about this?” I asked, hoping for some reassurance.

“Of course we did. Right, Calida?” He turned to his companion, who looked distracted.

“Uh oh. Sorry, what? I wasn’t really listening,” she said sheepishly.

“Oh, come on! Did we talk to the guardians about bringing little Raphael for a visit to our city?” he repeated, sounding annoyed.

“Oh right, sure. Don’t worry. We talked with them. They’re fine with that, but you should never leave us,” she said quickly, trying to sound convincing.

I wasn’t convinced at all. She could have been lying to appease Fulgor or to avoid further trouble. I wished I could trust them, but something in their eyes told me otherwise.

I nodded in agreement and followed them without any further questions. The guards opened the gates for us, which were still shut at this early hour. “So, are you up for a flight of... some hours?” one of them asked me. I hesitated for a moment. I glanced back at my wings, as if I had almost forgotten about them, and then said, “What do you mean by some hours?” He answered, “The kingdom is about five hours away by air, if you can keep up with our pace, of course.” The other one, Calida, added, “We can take a break every couple of hours if you need it.” I thought about how my wings didn’t seem to drain any energy from me. They never made me feel tired, for some magical reason. I said, “I think I can make it.” He nodded and then said, “Just out of curiosity, could you spread your wings for a moment?” I was unsure what he wanted, but I did as he asked. He said, “Yep, you won’t have any trouble with them. Nice wings, by the way.” Calida said, “They look familiar to me.” Fulgor, sounding annoyed, told her, “Oh, come on! Spread your wings too.” She did so, also looking confused. He said, “Now look at them,” and she examined her own wings. Then she looked at mine and hers again and finally realized, “Oh, I see. Same shape.” Fulgor said impatiently, “Alright, enough staring. Let’s take off already. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there.” I waited for them to take off first. Calida went ahead. I expected Fulgor to follow her, and then me to go after them. Instead, he said, “You go next.” I took off and caught up with Calida in no time. He came behind us shortly after. I didn’t know much about flying in formation, so I just flew next to Calida. But as soon as Fulgor got closer, she said, “Don’t stay next to me. You’ll get tired faster like this.” I apologized and moved back a bit. Fulgor finally reached us. “Clearly, you’ve never flown with anyone before. Didn’t Akira teach you how to fly?” he asked me. I said, “Only once, actually.” He sighed and said, “Aargh, fine, I’ll give you a quick lesson then. Let’s start with this.” He flew next to Calida on her left side, slightly behind her. I watched them from above. He said, “Now do the same thing on her right side. Symmetrically.” I lowered myself to their level and flew to her right side in the same position as him. “Stop right there,” he said. I asked him, “What now?” He said, “You’re good now. Just maintain your position.” He flew above and to my right, then back again, until we were all three in a diagonal line.

We alternated our positions every once in a while, mainly for practice. I didn’t notice much difference in the formation, but I assumed it mattered to them, so I went along. Then the air shifted. We were nearing some towering mountains. We flew below their peaks, not bothering to soar above them. Maybe they sensed that I was not afraid of heights. We didn’t speak much. We used gestures instead. Time was hard to measure without a watch, and boredom crept in. I distracted myself by admiring the scenery and avoiding the glare of the sun, which climbed higher and hotter. The wind cooled me down, thankfully. I wondered how I escaped sunburn. They had feathers to shield them, while I only had my clothes and skin. A pale skin that had acquired some tan lately. We were close to our destination when something struck Calida in the eye. It happened right after we switched places, and I briefly took the lead. Calida cried out, “Agh, I can’t see.” I thought it was some insect that hit her, and so did Fulgor. Then I felt some drops of blood on me. I said, “You’re bleeding,” and tried to get in front of her to inspect. She said, “I know.” Fulgor asked, “What’s going on back there?” I said, “She’s bleeding from both eyes.” Fulgor sounded annoyed as usual. He said, “Really? This happens every time, damnit. Fine, let’s land.” He guided her to the ground near a small stream in the plains. We landed, and she recovered quickly. There was no lasting damage. A little cleaning, and it was over. She had a scratch that ran from the back of her beak to her eye. She must have hit something hard to leave such a mark, even though we were flying at a moderate speed. What could you hit in midair that could cause such a wound? I had no idea or clue. I was lucky it didn’t hit me.

We continued our flight across the sky. The sun was high above us, casting a sharp shadow on the ground below. It was not summer yet, but the air was warm and clear. We flew at a moderate pace, keeping close together. Calida was in the center of our formation, with Fulgor in front and me behind. I watched her carefully, ready to catch her if she faltered. But nothing attacked us this time. We could see the city from afar, or the kingdom, as some called it. The terms seemed interchangeable to them, but to me, they were all kingdoms, enclosed by walls that offered little protection from aerial threats. I spotted a guard griffin wearing ridiculous armor that was heavy and half-baked. It looked more ceremonial than practical, but I guess it gave him some sense of authority.

We were not here for sightseeing, though. We had a mission to accomplish, and we were not welcomed by everyone. As soon as we reached the city limits, a messenger flew ahead to announce our arrival. Soon after, we were greeted by a flamboyant griffin with colorful ornaments and artificial dyes on his feathers. She was an assistant to the queen.

“Welcome back to the Griffin’s City, Fulgor and Calida,” she said with a bow.

She turned to me and added, “And welcome to you too, stranger. I��m Mira. It's a pleasure to meet you!”

I nodded politely and said, “Thank you. I’m Raphael.”

She smiled and said, “Oh, you must be the one the queen has been raving about. She is very eager to meet you.”

I raised an eyebrow and asked suspiciously, “Is that so? How does she know about me?”

She chuckled and glanced at Fulgor, who looked sheepish.

He said, “Well, you know how rumors spread fast around here. Sorry if it bothers you.”

I felt a surge of annoyance and said, “No, what bothers me is that this place is far from the other city, and yet somehow everyone knows about me. Who else should I expect to recognize me? A dark lord or something who has spies everywhere?”

A sudden silence fell over us. He looked at me with alarm and asked, “How do you know about the dark lord?”

I realized I had said too much. I had heard about him from Zeno, but no one else had mentioned him to me. I tried to act casual and said, “What? There’s a dark lord?”

The silence persisted. The tension rose. The pause was awkward.

Mira cut me off. “Enough of this. We have kept the queen waiting long enough, now that you have arrived.” I nodded. “Very well. But are they coming with us?” I gestured to the other griffins who had escorted me. “Of course they are.” She spoke briskly. Then, as she had done before with Fulgor, her gaze lingered on my wings as we prepared to take off. She asked, “May I examine your wings for a moment, please?” I shrugged and complied. It was no trouble for me. I spread my wings for her to see. She circled around them and admired them. “How lovely, and what unusual colors: yellow, blue, and some hints of red.” “Ow!” I cried out as I felt a sharp pain in my wings. She had plucked one of my large feathers, and it hurt. “What was that for?” I demanded. She chuckled and held the feather in her talons. “Oh, nothing. Just taking one. Don’t worry about why.” I glared at her. “Really?” I inspected the spot where the feather was missing. It glowed briefly, then a new feather sprouted in its place, restoring my wing to its original state. Mira muttered under her breath, “I wish I could regrow my feathers like that too.” I heard her and said, “You’re lucky I can. Otherwise, you would have robbed me of a beautiful feather.” She did not apologize or respond. She just motioned for me to follow her. We flew to another location within the walls, a higher spot in the city. I took the opportunity to look around. The buildings were tall and had no doors or windows at ground level. You had to fly to access them. This was clearly a city for griffins only. It was colorful and mostly made of wood. I wondered what would happen if a fire griffin went berserk here. The whole place could go up in flames. There were many water sources around, though. Fountains and streams of clean water flowed everywhere. I noticed a fashion trend for large feathers with red and white accents, but I did not see any griffins or feathers with those colors naturally. We reached our destination in no time. There were no guards at the entrance, which surprised me. The building was relatively small, not as grand as the castle of Queen Aetherius, but still the largest one in this area.

As I followed Mira inside, I realized that I had left Fulgor and Calida behind. It was just me and Mira and whoever else lurked in the shadows of this place. We walked deeper into the building until we reached an open gate. Through it, I saw a dazzling display of colorful glass that shifted and shimmered, casting a kaleidoscope of light on the walls and the floor. I was so mesmerized by the sight that I didn’t notice the queen wasn't in front of me but behind me.

“HELLO!” A loud voice startled me, making me jump and spin around. There stood another griffin, similar to Mira but with a more coherent color scheme. She had purple, white, and light blue feathers that matched her vibrant personality. She seemed to have a fondness for colors, just like Mira. “You scared me,” I said, trying to calm my racing heart. She laughed and said, “I know. I did it on purpose. Nice wings, by the way.” I sighed inwardly. Everyone seemed to be fascinated by my wings. I hoped Mira hadn’t told anyone that they could regenerate in seconds, or they might try to pluck me for an endless supply of feathers. Luckily, that didn’t happen, and I found myself engaged in a conversation, or rather, an introduction, with the queen.

“Thank you, I suppose. And you are?” I asked politely. She smiled and said, “I’m Queen Astra, Astra Rhea, but you can call me Astra.” I nodded and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty, Astra. I’m Raphael. But you probably already knew that.” She nodded back and said, “Indeed, I’ve heard about you. It’s nice to finally see you in person.” I replied, “The honor is mine. It seems I’ve become quite popular lately. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.” She tilted her head and asked, “Why not? Being popular is fun. Are you afraid of it?” I shook my head and said, “No, it’s just that a lot has happened in a short time.” She chuckled and said, “Well, relax. There’s nothing to worry about. Come on, let me show you something.”

She led me through a maze of corridors, leaving Mira behind. I felt a twinge of anxiety at being alone with someone so powerful and unfamiliar, but I pushed it aside and followed her. She showed me a collection of large, colorful feathers, each with a name underneath it. She explained that they belonged to the kings and queens who had ruled here before her and pointed out their portraits above the feathers. Then she showed me some honorable mentions: feathers or nametags with short descriptions of some notable guardians who had served here. Some of them were dragons. I recognized some of the names from the stories I had heard from Mira and the others, but some were new to me.

I glanced at an empty frame that bore my name, and a sudden dread gripped me. I realized I was about to lose another feather. She spoke to me in a commanding tone: “As a queen, I require a gift from you.” I asked, “What kind of gift? What do you want from me? Do you need my assistance?” She gestured to the frame and said, “Do you see that? It would be a delight and an honor to have something of yours there.” I wondered, “What makes me worthy of such honor, if I may inquire?” She said, “I know you are part of some prophecy, so I expect you will do great deeds.” I said, “That remains to be seen, but I appreciate your confidence.” She then summoned Mira. Mira appeared and said, “I’m here, Astra.” Astra instructed her, “Please take a couple of feathers from Raphael.” I protested, “Wait, let me brace myself for the pain. Besides, I didn’t consent to this.” Before I could finish, Mira plucked another feather from me: “Agh!” Then another one, and another one right after. They grew back instantly. Astra witnessed this and exclaimed, “See! I told you you were destined for greatness. You have the power to regenerate feathers in seconds.” I said, “Thank you, but I’d rather keep them since it hurts enough to lose them.” She replied sarcastically, “You’ll get used to it, my dear.” I wanted to retort, but I held my tongue. She personally placed the feather in the frame, like a trophy, while I watched and wondered if I could ever claim it back. It didn’t matter. When she was done, we went outside and resumed our conversation. They talked about things I knew little about, such as life in the Dragon’s City of Aura. I couldn’t contribute much since I had been there for less than a week and was confined to a certain area. I didn’t mention the behavior of the authorities that I had witnessed, and luckily so, because here they weren’t much different. Outside, the queen bombarded me with questions about myself while Mira tried to help me by slowing her down or interrupting her politely. The queen was nice enough and didn’t take offense easily. She even asked me how I got here and about my personal relationship with Akira and Fyrenthos. She seemed eager to extract every bit of information from me. It was too much for me to handle. I tried to answer one question, but before I could finish, she would ask another one. It was exhausting. Finally, Mira suggested something that the queen agreed to: “I think Raphael could use a break since he flew all the way from the city and hasn’t rested yet. Are you feeling tired, Raphael?” I caught her intention to help me and lied: "Yes, I'm a little tired. I would appreciate that. Thank you.” Astra didn’t notice the lie and said, “Of course, my apologies. I want you to feel comfortable here. Mira, please show him where he can rest for a while. In the meantime, I’ll be around. You still have to tell me about your first flying lesson.” Mira said, “I’m on it. Thank you, Astra.”

I seized the opportunity to slip away from the queen’s presence, with Mira as my guide. We put some distance between us and the royal building, and I whispered my gratitude to her. “Thank you. Really. She’s quite a handful, isn’t she?” Mira answered in a louder tone, “I know she is. She’s my sister after all.” I was taken aback by this revelation. “Really? Does that mean you’re a princess too?” She shrugged. “Technically yes, but only by blood.” I sensed there was more to the story, but I refrained from prying further. I didn’t want to be as nosy as the queen had been. We ventured further into the city, where I hoped to catch a glimpse of Fulgor or Calida, but they were nowhere to be seen. I asked Mira, “Do you have any idea where Fulgor and Calida went? I was told to stay close to them at all times.” She frowned slightly, as if worried. “I don’t know. I think they went to see some of their friends, as they usually do when they come here. I lost sight of them too.” I felt a pang of anxiety. “Do we have a meeting place and time? I’m not familiar with this city. I feel kind of lost, and I don’t know when I should return.” She smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, you’re not expected to go back today. You’ll spend the night here, and then you’ll join them sometime tomorrow.” I was confused. “Oh, okay. I didn’t know that. They told me something different.” We continued our friendly conversation while she showed me around the palace grounds and then the city streets. Everything was fine until it was time to head back to the palace. We flew across the city from the opposite side, in the dark of night. Only a few griffins were still out and about, and we flew close to some buildings that had lights on them to help us navigate. That was when I ran into trouble. I lagged behind Mira for a moment and lost sight of her. I tried to catch up with her without drawing too much attention.

As I soared through the night sky, I was suddenly ambushed by three griffins. One of them snatched me from the air and hurled me across the street, crashing into a building. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and I couldn’t even cry out for Mira. Dazed and disoriented, I found myself in a dark and unfamiliar place. The only light came from a window, where two griffins were perched. The third one pinned me to the ground with his claws digging into my neck. He spoke in a mocking voice, “You should be careful flying at night alone in the city, weird creature with wings.” I wanted to retort, but I was too breathless and terrified. He continued, “Good, keep your silence. Not that you have many options.” One of the other griffins asked, “What do we do? Is it him?” The one holding me down examined me again, easing his grip slightly. He confirmed, “Yes, it’s him.” The other griffin exclaimed, “Great! I wonder how much the Faded Feather will pay us if we bring him to him.”

I seized the opportunity while they were distracted and reached for my side, where I had hidden a blade, more like a dagger, really. I pulled it out and slashed at the back of his leg, hoping to sever his tendons. He let out a muffled scream and released me. He snarled, "Oh, you little bastard. Stop right there.” I ignored him and gasped for air. I scanned the room for an exit and spotted a door. It was unlocked, and I ran for it. The other two griffins lunged at me with such force that they would have crushed me if they had caught me. I made it to another room, which was brighter than the previous one. The building was empty, but there was an open window. It was small, but big enough for me to squeeze through. It would slow them down at least. I felt a surge of adrenaline and ran towards it. I barely managed to flap my wings and escape outside. I flew into the first street I saw and turned left and right at random corners to lose them. I had no idea where I was, and I knew that flying higher would make me more visible. Less than a minute later, I saw the same three griffins in the sky, searching for me. I hid in a dark corner, so dark that I couldn’t see myself. They didn’t spot me, but one of them was always nearby, ready to pounce if I moved. I was trapped. I prayed that someone would come to help me or that they would give up. Even the bleeding one seemed determined to catch me. His leg was soaked with blood, which glinted in the moonlight. I stayed still for what felt like an eternity, feeling the cold of the night seep into my bones. I had to move, but I didn’t dare.

I heard some other voices. The voices of the sentinels and the guards “Get down. You’re wounded,” one of them said to a griffin I had wounded earlier. He ignored the warning and fled with his companions. Another griffin, who had been hiding in a cloud high above, swooped down and shouted, “Slashers, halt!” They did not heed him, so he slammed into one of them with a loud thud. They crashed behind some buildings, out of my sight, but I could hear the commotion. The remaining two slashers, even the injured one, turned back and tried to rescue their fallen friend from the guards. That was my chance to escape. They have bigger problems than me now.

Still, I could not fly high, for I did not know if the guards would recognize me or shoot me down on sight because of my strange appearance. I sneaked through the streets, which were deserted now. I peeked around every corner, afraid of another ambush. I managed to find my way to the palace, following the same street all the way up. It took me half an hour of walking, but I finally reached it. There was no one I knew there, nor any guards that I almost wished to surrender to, hoping for some protection. There was a reason for their absence: they were all searching for me in the air, flying so high that they were hard to spot. They scanned the streets below, trying to find me in the darkness and distance. One of them did find me and yelled, “Don’t move.” I froze. Another one heard him and asked, “Is it him?” He came closer and said, “Are you okay?” I said, “I’m okay now.” He confirmed to his colleague, “Yes, it’s him. Alert the others.” He reassured me, “Come with me, we’ll take you back.” Then he noticed the blood on my clothes, which was not mine. My own blood had dissolved into the air in a bright light shortly after I freed myself from the slashers. The cut on my neck had healed as if it had never been there. He asked me, “Are you hurt?” I said calmly, “I was, but I’ve healed.” He said, “That’s good. We’ve had some trouble tonight, but at least we got to you before they did.” I corrected him, “They did get to me.” He apologized, “I’m sorry about that. We’ll deal with them later. For now, let me introduce myself. I’m Jax.” We returned to the palace, where I cleaned myself up and met Mira again. She was worried and angry at the queen, who blamed her for letting me go. They bickered like sisters, even though one was a queen and the other an assistant. I tried to defuse the situation as best as I could. But even after everything was settled, I still could not see Fulgor and Calida. Eventually, I felt tired, which was unusual for me, but not unpleasant. I felt like a normal living being. The palace offered me a lavish room for the night, but I hardly noticed its opulence. I craved only peace and rest after the harrowing ordeal. The night did not unfold as I had hoped. I had heard of the city’s nocturnal attractions, but I had to forgo them because of the mishap. The next morning, I faced another unpleasant encounter, not with the queen, but with the captain of the guards and Mira. Mira was supposed to watch over me, but she had lost track of me in the chaos. I wondered why I hadn’t heard her call my name when she realized I was gone. Perhaps I was too focused on escaping or too panicked to notice. In any case, the captain interrogated me relentlessly. He was an old griffin, black as a raven, with a keen eye for details and a knack for asking probing questions. I had to think carefully before answering anything about what had transpired.

When he was satisfied with my account, he led me and a group of guards to a remote location near the city, at the foot of a mountain. It was a prison, a grim outpost where the lawbreakers awaited their fate. There I saw my assailants again, chained to the wall, not even granted the dignity of a cell. They were not alone; there were others like them, all silent and watched by vigilant guards. The captain asked me to identify my attackers from a safe distance. I saw their hateful eyes on me, burning with murderous rage. I was about to point them out, starting with the wounded one, but he erupted into flames and thrashed against his chains, spewing curses and names I didn’t recognize. His fire was useless against the metal, and he barely moved an inch. He sprouted another pair of wings, but the guards swiftly sliced them off. The severed wings vanished along with his hope. Unfazed by his outburst, I pointed at all three of them with a smug grin, feeling like a lucky victor in a battle.

They were dragged away to some darker place, while the others remained in their chains. I didn’t know why they were there, whether they were suspects or convicts, but one of them caught my attention. He was smaller and younger than the rest, and he shared the queen’s colors. He looked different from the others; he was sobbing and trembling, terrified of everything and everyone. He even begged me for help, but I was powerless to do anything for him. I didn’t know what he had done or what would become of him.

I glared at him with a look of disappointment, but said nothing. The chief had already interrogated me twice, asking me to identify the attackers and recount every detail of the ordeal. I repeated that there were only three of them, no more, and that I had never seen them before. He nodded and gestured for me to follow him. We left the place where they had held me captive and headed back to the city. I was ready to leave this nightmare behind.

At the gates, the queen was waiting for us, her eyes red and swollen. She tried to apologize, as if she was responsible for what had happened to me. I told her not to blame herself or her sister. I liked Mira, she was kind and friendly, even though she had snatched a pen from me the first time we met. I also saw Fulgor and Calida, who looked confused and curious. They had not been informed of the incident, but they sensed something was wrong when they saw the queen in tears and Mira in distress. I decided to take charge and lead them back to our city, promising to explain everything on the way. We took off, escorted by some guards until we were out of sight of the walls. Then they turned back and left us alone.

That was when I started asking questions of my own. I wanted to know where Fulgor and Calida had been, and why they had disobeyed the guardians’ orders. They said they had acted in good faith, but they seemed nervous. “You don’t want to know why they were so worried about me, do you?” I asked them. Fulgor’s voice was tense as he said, “I hope you didn’t offend anyone here.” I snapped back, “Of course not, but I was attacked.” Calida gasped and asked, “What do you mean by attacked? Did they force you to do something you didn’t want to do, or say something you didn’t like?” I shook my head and said, “No, they tried to kidnap me.” Fulgor exclaimed, “WHAT?! No way, nobody kidnaps anyone in this city.” I said, “I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t experienced it.” Calida asked, “Wait, so what happened? Were you involved in that commotion with the guards last night?” I nodded and said, “Yes, I was with Mira when three griffins ambushed us and crashed us into a building. They called themselves the Faded Feathers and mentioned a guy named Fulg. Do you know anything about him?” Calida blurted out, “Isn’t that what your sons call you, Fulg?” He slapped her to silence her and said, “NO.”

I stopped in mid-air, feeling a surge of suspicion. I stared at Fulgor and said, “What?!” He stammered, “No, I don’t have any sons and I’ve never heard that name before, I swear.” I said, “Well, they wanted to kidnap me and bring me to him for a reward. Too bad for them, they got arrested. Also, you were nowhere to be seen all day. How convenient.” Fulgor’s face turned red with anger and he said, “No, this is just your speculation. We need to get back to the city now.” I shook my head and made up my mind: “Nope, I’m not going with you. I’m going back to the Kingdom of Aura. You’re hiding something from me and I don’t want any part of it. Goodbye.” I flew higher, heading towards the direction of my home. Calida called out, “Wait, don’t go alone. I’ll come with you.” Fulgor shouted at her, “No, stay here. Let him go.” She ignored him and followed me.

She caught up with me and gestured for me to follow her. It seemed like we had a plan to escape from him, but it involved flying into the clouds, which I doubted was a smart idea. As soon as we entered the misty realm, a flash of light pierced through the fog. It was Fulgor, trying to stop us, but we didn’t slow down. I had lost my faith in Fulgor, but I still trusted Calida. We managed to evade him and soared above the clouds, heading for the mountains as fast as we could. There, we landed on a patch of snow, cold but serene. I asked her, “What the hell is going on? What do you know about him that I need to know?” She answered, still panting and relieved to have reached a safe spot. “I knew his second name. I just wasn’t sure if it was true.” I said, “So… do we have to warn the others? I’m glad you confirmed it, and thanks for helping me get away. What now?” She said, “It’s not over yet. We have to take another route. He’ll surely send someone to intercept us. I know where to go.” I asked her innocently, like a child, the kind of question that no one would refuse: “Okay then, but can I trust you?” She said, “That’s up to you. I think you can. I want to help you get back to the city. Then we’ll figure this out and you’ll help me with it.” I agreed, “Fine, I believe you.” She said, “Follow me. There’s a portal here. It’s hidden. We can use it to get a shortcut to the city.” I exclaimed, incredulous, “What, a portal? I thought they were just legends in the books.” She said, “They’re real. Follow me, we have to hurry.” Calida seemed like a different person than the one I knew. She was confident and focused on her mission. Fulgor must have held her back from showing her true potential. We flew from one point to another on the mountain until we reached a cliff. There was a fissure with many caves. She aimed for one and entered it. Without hesitation, I followed her. Suddenly, we were facing a luminous structure. The cave was much larger than it looked from outside, and the portal was huge, spanning tens of meters in height and width. There were some crystals around it. She rearranged them into a pattern that resembled a dragon’s head. They all changed color to a bright pink, the same as Aura’s. The portal changed as well. She urged me to go through it, and I did. She followed me, and the portal vanished. We were in the same place where I had first arrived in this world. In the middle of nowhere but not too far from the city. She said, “Follow me, the gate is close by.” I said, “I know, I’ve been here before.” She asked me as we flew, “How? Did Akira bring you here?” I said, “No, the first time I came here, I found myself right here. Just like now.” She nodded and said, “Great, you must have used a portal too then. I hope we’re not too late.” I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what she meant by “too late”. But I remembered the meeting with the guardians on the seventh day. Fulgor was going to miss that one.

[saintlike78]

Hiii can you do a poly marauders x fem reader where girls are being mean to her like calling her ugly and saying she dosnt deserve them so she’s breaks up but they find out what’s been happening and they get back together . (I couldn’t see if your requests are closed) ❤️

Greedy [Poly Marauders]

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! You’re just fueling my addiction with writing poly Marauders fics… and I love it!!

Pairings: Poly! Marauders x Fem!reader

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: Fluff, polyamorous relationship, breakup, mentions of not eating, crying, reader being sad, mean girls. Lmk if I missed anything.

“Honestly you’re just being greedy!”

“They don’t even really like you; you were just the easiest.”

“You’re not even pretty enough for one of them, what makes you think you could have all three?”

“It’s only a matter of time before they get bored of you and trade you in for someone better and more deserving of their love.”

The words swarmed around your brain, a thick fog settling before your eyes as tears streamed down your face making everything blurry and wet. Your feet were clumsily transporting your body back to your dorm, trying your best to keep your head down avoiding the stares your fellow students were giving you.

You were trying to forget and ignore what those girls had said, but it kept playing on repeat in your mind. You knew that your three boys loved you, but the girl’s words filled your head with doubt. You knew that your boyfriends were too good for you, you didn’t deserve them, they would be better off without you or with somebody else. The thoughts were killing you; more tears escaped your eyes at the thought of them with somebody else tearing you apart, but it was necessary for their happiness. You could never make them happy; you could never be enough for them.

You ascended the stairs towards the girls’ dormitories but decided against it opting towards going to your boy’s dorm, wanting to feel the comfort of their room one last time.

You opened the wooden door but met by silence from the other side. The boys still had an hour of class left, leaving you to sit in sadness alone for a while longer before you would be breaking your own heart.

Walking across the room you stood in front of the mirror taking in your reflection, red puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks. Looking at yourself you understood what the girls saw, you had no idea how Remus, Sirius, and James had stayed with you as long as they had, but it was time you finally put them out of their misery even though it was killing you. Thinking about what would happen in less than an hour the tears pooled in your eyes once more, but you quickly grabbed a tissue from the box on Remus’ desk beside the mirror and wiped your eyes and the falling tears. You made your way into the connected bathroom, wanting to at least look somewhat presentable before the boys returned. You washed your face with cold water, the cool water washing away any redness, but not concealing the sadness that still lingered in your eyes.

The book in front of you could not hold your attention, your focus solely on the door of the dorm, just waiting. James’ soft blanket comforting you slightly but never distracting enough.

The door burst open and the loud chatter between the boys filled the quiet room. Their laughs warmed your heart, momentarily causing you to forget what was going to happen.

“Bunny, you’re here!” Remus just about shouted, running to you and getting on top of you kissing you all over your face.

You couldn’t help the giggle that left your lips, but sadness bubbled up within you at the fact that you would never experience this again.

You softly pushed Remus off of you making him sit on his calves looking at you in a very confused manner.

“I need to talk with all of you,” you said trying to keep your voice steady, hoping they couldn’t tell how much you had been crying.

Sirius and James made their way to the bed as well, sitting beside Remus.

“That sounds so serious… you aren’t breaking up with us are you, pup?” Sirius joked, but your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

“Wait?! Are you?” James asked worriedly, noticing your face and lack of words.

You were fiddling with your hands, not looking in their eyes.

“Uhm… well… the thing is…. Uhm… y-yes.”

Tears filled your eyes when you finally muttered the words, not believing this was real, but you knew it needed to be done.

“What?! No! I was just kidding, you can’t break up with us, why would you say that?!” Sirius exclaimed, not believing his own ears. Tears gathered in all of their eyes, unbeknownst to you, since you still refused to meet their eyes.

“Bunny… you don’t mean that,” Remus tried, his voice breaking slightly at the effort of trying to contain his tears.

“I-I do, I’m s-sorry, I can’t be with you anymore,” you stammered, tears now leaking down your face once more. Your hands were shaking, and your limbs felt heavy, your heart shattering into a million pieces. You quickly got off of the bed facing the door wanting nothing more than to leave, not wanting to look at their faces because you knew if you did you would break even more.

They all stood from the bed as well walking towards you. James reached for your arm, but Sirius stopped him.

“Please, y/n, don’t do this… we love you; don’t you love us?” James tried, not trying to conceal his tears any longer, letting them fall freely down his cheeks.

“It’s f-for the b-best.”

“Y/n, don’t you love us anymore?” Sirius repeated James’ question since you chose to not answer, not wanting to lie.

A long silence ensued, you didn’t want to lie, but you knew that it was what you had to do for them to hate you.

“… n-no,” you whispered.

All of their hearts collectively shattered. Both Remus and James were freely crying, but Sirius was fuming, angry tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Fine! Then leave!” Sirius shouted causing you to jump slightly. Sirius felt his heartbreak and he felt guilty for scaring you, but he was just so angry and sad, he didn’t know how to handle it.

You quickly walked towards the door opening it, but before you left you turned around letting yourself cave and get one last look. Your breath caught in your throat when you took in their tear-covered faces, your already shattered heart turned to dust.

Whispering an almost inaudible ‘I’m sorry, you slid out the door, leaving the boys heartbroken and most of all confused as to when you suddenly stopped loving them.

You raced towards your own dorm, opening and slamming the door shut as soon as you had made it inside. As soon as the door was completely shut your legs failed you and you crumbled on the floor, loud sobs leaving your quivering lips. You had never felt pain like this before, it felt like someone had cut your heart out and ripped it apart in front of you, leaving you a bleeding broken mess.

Lily, who was laying in her bed, was startled by your sudden entrance but was quickly by your side as soon as you collapsed.

“Y/n/n, what’s wrong? What did they do?” she asked, clearly expecting the boys to be behind this, but also not quite believing they could hurt you to this point.

“I-I b-brok-e up w-w-with them!” you sobbed out, hiccups making it much harder to formulate a decent-sounding sentence.

“You did what?! Why? Just yesterday you were madly in love… what happened?” Lily’s confusion shone clearly through her tone, not understanding why you would do such a thing.

“P-please, I j-just want to sl-sleep,” there was nothing you wanted more than to lay in your bed and just disappear.

Lily just nodded and helped you towards your bed, helping you remove your shoes and grabbing your sleepshirt, which happened to be one of the boys’ shirts.

“Do you want to sleep in this?” Lily asked carefully.

You instantly nodded and grabbed the shirt from her grasp, wanting nothing more than to be comforted by your boys, but since that wasn’t an option, you opted for this.

Slipping into the warmth of your blanket the tears never ceased, but your eyes still fell shut, wanting to sleep the pain away.

“Do you want me to grab dinner for you later?” Lily asked softly, but already knowing the answer.

“No thanks… can you close the curtains around my bed?”

Lily sighed but did as you asked, knowing you just needed time.

In their dorm, Remus and James were pacing around the room whilst Sirius sat on Remus’ bed, trying to calm himself before dinner.

“I don’t understand, we were all fine yesterday,” James muttered loudly enough for the two others to hear him as well.

“What is it you don’t understand, Prongs? She loved us and now she doesn’t, ‘s as simple as that,” Sirius stated, his tone laced with bitterness, choosing to be angry instead of letting the sadness consume him.

Remus stopped his pacing and looked at Sirius’ seated form, “you don’t really believe that do you, Pads? … Prongs is right, we were all fine yesterday.”

Sirius just let out a ‘humph’ and crossed his arms, rising from the bed.

“Whatever, let’s just go to dinner… she’ll probably be there celebrating her freedom from us.”

This time James stopped to look at Sirius, “you know she would never do that and besides something doesn’t seem right… it’s too out of the blue.”

Remus nodded and let out an agreeing hum and they both followed Sirius towards the door.

Days passed; you hadn’t left your bed unless you had to use the bathroom. You were drowning in tears the pain in your heart not subsiding.

The teachers were informed that you were “sick” and that you needed some time to recover from your sudden illness.

The only time you had gotten any form of nutarians was when Lily basically forced you to consume something, anything. She was growing more worried each passing day, having talked to the boys and keeping them updated on your situation, since they all were worried as well and asked her to keep an eye on you for them since they hadn’t seen you since the day of the breakup.

The news of your breakup spread like wildfire; people not used to see the three boys without even a trace of you.

Remus was the first to experience a couple of the girls flirting very aggressively with him, but he brushed it off, knowing they could never replace you; it was you or nothing. Sirius was the next, he was less nice and told the girls to leave him alone. Lastly was James, he almost cried, wishing he could get you back, so he could be free from any other girls.

The girls were growing agitated by the lack of attention they were getting from the three Marauders, clearly not understanding why they were so upset by losing you.

It had been more than a week; Lily was studying in the library when she heard your name spoken behind one of the bookshelves. She stood from her seat, moving closer to listen to the girls on the other side.

“Ugh, it’s so frustrating! Sirius totally dismissed me the other day,” one of the girls complained.

“I know! I don’t understand, it’s been a week, they should be over her by now.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll soon realize that she wasn’t even that great and then they’ll be all over us,” the last girl said with a proud smirk.

The wheels in Lily’s head turned as she absorbed the conversation and as the last cog clicked into place realization struck – her legs couldn’t have moved faster out of the library if she tried, but she was on a mission to find the three heartbroken Marauders.

“REMUS!” Lily was sprinting towards the black lake where the three boys had been residing most of the week.

“Woah, Lily, calm down, love,” Remus chuckled and got up from his seated position to be level with Lily.

Lily sputtered, trying to catch her breath, bending so her hands were on her knees.

“Y/n… y/n,” Lily started, still struggling to get a word in between her gasping breaths.

“What’s wrong with y/n? is she okay?” Sirius said as he and James stood, panic flooding between the three of them at the thought that something had happened to you.

“She’s… fine… hhhh…” Lily drew a deep breath, regaining her ability to speak, “I don’t think she wanted to break up with you.”

“What do you mean?” Remus cocked an eyebrow, hope blossoming in the pit of his stomach at the prospect of getting their bunny back.

“She obviously did, she said she doesn’t love us anymore, so that’s it,” Sirius crossed his arms, his sadness still concealed by anger.

“She does love you, a lot actually… she’s been crying the whole week, she hasn’t left her bed… or dorm room for that matter,” Lily explained.

“I heard some girls talking about you three and y/n; they were speaking very ill of her and though I’m not sure, I think there’s a connection with them and y/n’s sudden need to end it with you three.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want to get our hopes up for nothing… we just really miss her,” James said sadly, all of them scared that their hearts would be broken all over again.

“I’m certain… she never shuts up about how much she loves you, which was the reason I was so shocked when she came in crying saying she had ended it.”

Lily hadn’t had the chance to properly finish her explanation before Sirius was bolting towards the castle and towards Gryffindor tower, with Remus and James close on his heel.

When three boys entered your dorm room, all out of breath and red in their faces, you were asleep curled up on your bed, still wearing what the boys recognized as Sirius’ t-shirt. They couldn’t ignore the dried tears that stained your cheeks, your face red from the crying, your lips turned down in a sad frown, even in sleep.

Remus was the first to walk towards your bed, seating himself beside you, slowly stroking your cheek as to wake you. James and Sirius placed themselves on the bed as well, waiting for you to open your beautiful eyes.

“Puppy… you gotta wake up now,” Sirius spoke softly, rubbing your back gently.

You stirred and slowly opened your eyes, focusing on the three boys on your bed; instantly deciding that you were dreaming, not believing that they could really be there.

“Hi… Remmy, Siri, and Jamsie,” you grogged out, voice hoarse from the constant crying.

“I wish you were here in real life.”

“Baby, we are here, this is real life,” James chuckled softly, still scared that you really didn’t love them.

You quickly sat up, reaching out and touching Remus’ face, only to just as quickly retract your hand when you felt the very real Remus sitting in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” You breathed quickly, not wanting them to see you in your broken state.

“Lily was worried about you… and she overheard something interesting in the library from some girls… so we want you to tell us what happened,” Remus spoke slowly and reached out to take your fiddling hands in his.

“What do you mean?” you played dumb, not wanting to answer their question, knowing you would break again if you did.

“We want you to tell us why you broke up with us, and not to lie this time,” Sirius was trying to conceal his anger, not wanting to upset you even further.

You let out a shaky breath, not knowing where to start; you looked between them all, all of them eager to hear what you had to say and listening intently.

“I was talking to this group of girls, and they got into my head about how you're all too good for me I don't deserve you... I just feel like you guys deserve someone way better than me and more beautiful than me that's why I wanted to give you an opportunity to be free from me.”

The three boy’s eyes widened in shock at your words, all three of their jaws open wide almost hanging on the floor from pure disbelief.

“Bunny, you're the most beautiful girl we've ever known we love you so much more than you ever know... We are the ones who don't deserve you, you’re an absolute angel and you should never let any stupid lowlife girls tell you that you're not good enough,” Remus said reaching out and stroking your cheek softly, tears gathered in his eyes.

Sirius’s eyes flashed red, he was in two minds, keeping you company or going to murder the girls who made you believe such nonsense, but he chose the first option, scooting closer to you and engulfing you in his arms.

“Puppy, please never listen to those stupid girls again... This week without you has been pure agony I've been stuck with these two idiots for far too long,” Sirius whispered to you whilst stroking your hair.

“Does that mean that we can get back together,” James said with a shy grin.

“Of course, if you'll have me back,” you looked at all three of them hopefully knowing that they in no way were obligated to get back together with you after what you'd put them through.

“Of course, will have you, we can't imagine life without you… a week was way too long without you,” Sirius said, his fingers tilting your chin so that you're forced to look into his eyes, he leaned down and kissed your lips - a whole week's worth of passion translated into this kiss.

Remus and James both moved so that they could embrace both you and Sirius creating one big ball of love.

[todoscript]

making out until your phone interrupts you two

characters: bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff, suggestive

word count: 2.8k+, 850-1000 words per character

warnings: characters are aged up, suggestive and mature content, implied sexual content, minors please beware

author’s note: how did these get as long as they did 

copyright 2021 todoscript, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else.

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

As your soft hands brush along the nape of his neck and pinch at strands of ash blond hair, you feel his larger, calloused hands run along your thighs. Your lips come back for each other, hot and needy. Bakugou bites down harshly on your bottom lip, eliciting a squeal that grants him an opening to pry his tongue into your mouth to melt with yours. You follow in the frantic rhythm he sets, barely keeping pace as your grip on the slim fabric of his black tank top wrinkles in your curled fingers. Smirking, his hand runs up the skin beneath your shirt. He finds your squirming all the more amusing the more he rubs and gropes.

“Aw c’mon, babe. No fun if you’re already turning into pudding this fuckin’ early. Show some resistance, why don’t ya?” He eggs you on, but doesn’t cease in his ministrations, and in fact, only makes it harder for you to show any kind of fight. You detach your lips from his, pouting profusely with a scrunched nose. He looks back at you, expression sly and slick, well aware of what he’s doing. Well, you’re going to be sure he doesn’t get the last laugh.

Shifting all your weight onto his upper body, you move him over to lay down on the couch. He peers at your form towering above him, curious as to how you go about turning the tables against him tonight. His palms are flat on your thighs, remaining there as you settle your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. You move your head down so your lips can touch and Bakugou cranes his neck slightly to meet you in the middle. However, a clamor sounding from a phone on the coffee table sends a rift in the atmosphere you’ve established and the incessant chime captures both of your attention. Your eyes go wide before blinking in realization that it’s your phone that’s going off right now.

Much to Bakugou’s dismay, you begin moving off of him. You get up to reach for your ringing phone, but his hand grabbing your wrist is faster.

“Don’t you dare answer it,” Bakugou orders, failing to suppress the blunt annoyance in his tone.

“What if it’s an important call from work?”

Hearing your response, he begrudgingly lets go of your wrist, sitting back on the couch, and grumbling beneath his breath.

“Fuck, it better not take long then.”

You playfully roll your eyes at him. You take a glance at the screen before pressing the green icon and nestle your phone next to your ear.

As you converse with the person on the other line, the blond is glaring knives at the device, no doubt mentally sending curses to whichever asshole decided to interrupt the mood just when things were starting to get good. Now he’s contemplating as to why he was generous enough to let you answer the damn phone in the first place. Shoulda just chucked that thing into the next room, left to be forgotten as the two of you would’ve been occupied with much more important matters.

In retaliation with his thoughts, he abruptly pulls your body into his lap, legs on either side of his thighs, straddling him. Being so occupied with your phone call, you don’t have much opportunity to comment on his behavior. In fact, Bakugou actually doesn’t allow you any opportunity.

Without warning, he plants his mouth on your neck, proceeding to nibble and suckle with just the right amount of pressure that makes you jolt in his lap. A small squeak leaves you, the noise eluded by the other person on the line thanks to you shifting your phone away from your mouth in time. You glare at the blond, silently asking with pointed brows what the hell he thought he was doing. But Bakugou only finds amusement in your struggles.

“Go on, keep talking, princess,” he mumbles loud enough for only you to hear and you feel his lips curl against your skin. You notice his hands busying themselves, tugging at the hem of your shirt, but despite that, you can’t do anything but continue with your conversation, unless you want your caller to start suspecting you’re undergoing other… activities as you were speaking to them.

You are so gonna get it later, mister. You mentally note your promises of retribution before returning to the chat while trying to ignore Bakugou’s mischief to the best of your ability.

After powering through the next couple of minutes of exchanges—your replies hastening and voice hitching whenever Bakugou’s ministrations became impatiently persistent—you finally say your hurried goodbyes, hitting the end call button.

That acts as Bakugou’s cue to pounce on you. He swipes your phone right from your fingertips and tosses it half-hazardously on the couch, out of your reach.

“Katsuki, you—!”

The moment you open your mouth to say something in retort, your words are cut off. Bakugou’s lips slot with yours to resume your intimate lip-lock, even more intense than earlier by how he barely allows you to draw a single breath.

“Oh no you don’t. No fucker is going to interrupt us this time, I’m going to make sure of that,” is the last he says before hoisting you up from your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist, and leading you both to your bedroom.

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Entering your living room, Midoriya finds you lounging on the couch with the TV on, curled up with a blanket and watching the latest episode of a show you’ve been following. He stretches out his muscles as he approaches you, body aching at every extension of his limbs. With his groans sounding rather exasperated, you face in his direction.

“Tired?” you question as Midoriya takes a seat beside you.

“Yeah, just a bit. The villains keep getting tougher these days,” he answers, cracking his knuckles, craning his neck to relieve a particular spot that’s been bothering him. You open up the blanket to let him take refuge in your warm haven and he scoots closer to you.

As expected of being the Number One Hero, his duties to the populace only grow more challenging with each passing moment. But he knows better than to complain about the job he was so heavily entrusted to by All Might. Besides, nothing beats saving the day and putting a smile on every citizen’s face. Well, nothing… except maybe spending time with you at the end of the day.

“I’m proud of you though, Izuku. You’ve been working so hard lately,” you say sweetly as your hand goes to massage Midoriya’s neck, rubbing at just the right areas that make him relax beneath your touch. “So proud of you.”

“Y-Yeah?” Midoriya doesn’t mean to stutter, but he fights back a groan when your fingers slowly travel up to his scalp.

“Yeah…” Your voice is tenderly hushed between you two, leaning in closer, to the point where your faces are seconds from touching. With your fingers still twined in his curly green hair, you angle him ever so slightly to meet the smoldering look in your eyes. It doesn’t take much for him to mirror the expression, eyes growing equally lidded and just as desirable. Then, before you had even realized it, you both closed the distance.

Tongue and teeth immediately clash. Midoriya is quick to overpower you as you let out a giggle, being forced to lay back on the couch. With your show inevitably about to be forgotten, the green-haired male smoothly reaches for the remote on your side before pointing the off button at the TV and tossing it to the ground.

He cradles your head from behind to bring your lips impossibly closer. Your hands remain laced through unruly emerald strands, occasionally tugging at his scalp, evoking a hum that vibrates between your lips coming together again and again.

When you finally separate after a rather lengthy session of lip-locking, your breaths are ragged—faces hot. He stares down at you, transfixed by your swollen, plush lips that he wishes to dive down again for more kisses.

“God, what did I ever do to deserve you?” he asks—a rhetorical question, but you smile at it nonetheless.

“I should be asking you that, Number One Hero.” You cup his face in your hands, thumb delicately brushing against those endearing freckles of his as you’re about to pull him down again.

But, just as your eyes close, waiting for your mouths to meet, the world splits open at a blaring echo crashing upon you. You abruptly halt your movements, watching as Midoriya does the same, eyes blown wide. You both turn your heads in the direction of the sound coming from the phone next to the kitchen.

“The phone…” Midoriya murmurs, wondering who would be calling at this hour. But upon glancing over at the wall clock, you remember something. It was actually around that time you were expecting a phone call from a friend of yours anyway. It had entirely slipped your mind after being so caught up in your make-out session with him.

“Sorry, Izuku. It’s probably for me,” you inform, an apologetic smile on your face as he slowly gets off you, allowing you to cease the ringing in the distance.

Sitting up on the couch, he watches you traverse to the kitchen, his elbows resting on his thighs. He drops his head into his hands, noticing his leg hopping up and down restlessly. It’s hard to come down from his high after getting worked up like that, and with that phone call appearing out of nowhere, he’s not sure what to do with himself other than not to get too excited.

Despite that, Midoriya musters the most patience as he possibly can. I mean, the amount of times you’ve been interrupted by Midoriya’s own urgent calls coming from his agency warrants him to exercise some self-restraint, knowing how riled up you could get at times, yet still kindly letting him go about his work like the saint you are.

But after a long day of patrolling the city and defeating foes, all Midoriya desires at the moment is to drown in all the love you have to offer him and leave everything behind to think of only you and him together. He overhears your conversation due to the silence spread across your living space, making out bits and pieces but never taking the time to distinguish the topic of your discussion.

No good, he thinks. Midoriya resigns to the fact he simply can’t keep as still as he would like, already getting up from the couch to seek you out. When he finds you, you’re laughing into the phone, likely finding whatever your friend said humorous, but when he wraps his arms around you, you jerk in surprise, that same laughter replaced by a quiet squeal. You feel Midoriya’s head tuck itself in the space linking your neck and shoulder, planting a single delicate kiss on the exposed skin. He glances at you, emerald eyes gleaming in a silent plea.

You smile in reply, understanding what he wants as you hold up a finger to tell him to give you a moment. “Um, sorry, I’ll have to call you back later. There’s something I have to do right now,” you say into the phone and after exchanging farewells, dismiss the call.

Turning in his arms, you come face-to-face with the relieved look in his eye. “Baby couldn’t wait?”

He releases a sigh, smiling warily. “You know I can never wait when it comes to you.”

TODOROKI SHOUTO

Fresh and clean out of the shower, you toss your towel around your slightly damp hair as you walk into the bedroom. Todoroki is already there waiting for you, sitting on the edge of your shared futon while checking something on his phone. Upon hearing your footsteps, he glances up, and smiles as soon as your eyes find each other. He clicks his phone off and sets it to the side before beckoning you over with spread arms.

You kneel in front of him and lean into his comforting embrace. His body is just the right temperature against you that soothes the heat abiding your skin from your steamy shower. Feeling you melt into his chest, he tilts his head, pressing his nose into your hair, and notes the fragrant scent of your shampoo that harmoniously washes over his senses.

“You smell… nice,” he comments, nuzzling his nose to your neck.

Honey… and vanilla…

You giggle at the tickling sensation. “I would hope so, considering I just took a shower.” Todoroki hums at your humor, lifting his head to find your eyes. He takes a moment to pay every detail its utmost attention, from your misty hair to the warmth flushed on your cheeks as his knuckles graze over your skin. You look away from his punctilious gaze, his gray and turquoise eyes making you feel small.

That won’t do, he thinks.

Before you can even process his actions, he leans forward to capture your lips. Taken by surprise, a faint sound floats above your mouth that is quickly swallowed by him.

Again… and again… and again.

As you let yourself surrender to the fervent kisses, Todoroki maneuvers you two onto your futon, where he hovers over you, lips never once parting throughout your movements. You hum in delight when his tongue immerses itself in your mouth. The gratuitous feeling doesn’t stick for long though.

A ringing sound resonates above the futon, and your attention is immediately diverted. Your motions falter beneath him, causing you to fall off beat now that your mind has one more thing to worry about. On the other hand, Todoroki is least bit concerned over the noise, unrelentingly nibbling at your lips to try and elicit more sweetness from them. Unfortunately, his fun is cut short as you lay your hand on his chest, lightly pushing him away so he removes his mouth from you.

“Shouto... My phone.”

Todoroki glances at the phone in question before returning to your form, disheveled under him. He gives you a look of indifference. “It can wait,” he states simply, about to dive down to resume what he started, but you don’t concede so easily.

“It could be important,” you reason.

Releasing a sigh, Todoroki allows you some space to turn over on your stomach and reach out for your phone, the chiming desisting as you answer it and greet whoever decided to call you at this time of night.

The conversation you’re having flies over Todoroki’s head. The only thing on his mind right now is you finishing the call and continuing where you two left off, praying it won’t take long.

However, eventually his impatience gets the best of him. His eyes wander the room simply to return to you—laying with your upper body propped on your pillow as you hover the phone next to your ear. He peeks at the small droplet of water trailing your hair just before it falls atop the skin of your neck. He seems almost mesmerized by it as it begins its trek down your collarbones, reveling in the enticing sight despite how ordinary it must be to the common eyes. For him, it just makes things all the more difficult to sit still.

Needy and with little to do, he shifts toward you.

“Right, and I– Ah!” your sentence slips on you mid-speech as you feel something cold touch the nape of your neck.

“Y/n? Everything alright?” your caller asks, static voice laced with concern that you almost overlook when the chilling sensation on your neck returns. You turn your head and discover Todoroki bending forward to place his lips repeatedly on your neck. You can’t tell if his lips are particularly colder than usual or if you’re still a little heated from your shower. Either way, the heightened sensitivity raises goosebumps on your skin.

“I-I’m fine! I just bumped into something, is all!” you reply, though your voice pitches, feeling Todoroki’s equally cool hands graze your back under your shirt.

“Oh, please be careful! The fatigue must be catching up with you after such a long day, and I did call you at a pretty late time, huh? Tell you what, we can talk about this again tomorrow morning so you can get your rest for the night, okay?”

You are beyond grateful for the convenience bestowed to you. Though, you honestly think resting is surely the last thing on a certain someone’s mind right now.

“Right! Thank you..! Have a good night!” With that, you promptly end the call. Repositioning onto your back, you cross eyes with Todoroki, making a point at hardening your expression and seeming offended. Though the man knows it’s more so a facade than anything and that you’re not actually angry at him.

“Oh, you..!” You emphasize your words with a bump of your fist against his shoulder, albeit with minimal strength.

He chuckles at your pouty lips, leaning down for a peck before moving some hair out of your face. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he admits, the curve of his lips bordering on a smirk and a genuine smile that you find hard to be mad at.

“Shall we resume where we left off then?”

[prettyboykatsuki]

am i warm enough for you?

➳ tags ;; soulmate au, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst but mostly fluff, some-what canon compliant, bakugo katsuki is bad at feelings, lots of Feelings™, you guys are adults but the end of the fic but the fic is sfw, alcohol, drunk confessions

➳ wc ;; 5.6k..

➳ plot summary ;; you see your soulmate in dreams - sometimes in bits and pieces and other times in full. bakugo is less than inclined to admit he even has a soulmate - and you learn how to cope with it, one day at a time.

bakugo learns that this soulmate shit is no joke. that has to be why he keeps falling for you so helplessly.

➳ a/n ;; i wasn’t even gonna comeback this early but it felt so wrong not to post on my bfs birthday so alas </3 for anyone who cares to know this is @elysianseraph but with my new url. nice to see u all <3

this was originally posted on 4/20 but im reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags dskjds

It’s hazy.

A cloud of smoke settles over your body, permeating your lung. It smells like sugar, like burning, like smoke and a little like leather. You can feel your toes curl and your hands moving but your body is separate from you in a way you can’t describe. It’s a pleasant kind of warmth that spreads, creeping up from behind your neck till it’s soft and cradling your skull. It’s soft like the touch of a mother, like wool over your ears.

It’s a pleasant feeling, that’s all. Almost cozy but there’s a fading sense of distress that chills in your lungs as you encompass it. Your hands are too small to reach forward, and truthfully the sensation is so powerful that you’re afraid to reach out. You’re 6 years old, so all you know is how it makes you feel. You can’t remember many details, but you feel pleasant. Something about it is soft, but there’s a sharp edge right at the end that has your lungs gasping for air.

It’s a flash of colors. Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red. Orange. Red.

And then it fades into a feeling again. A blurry feeling. You feel conflict, then concern, then inadequacy in heavy waves almost like it’s drowning you. It’s the first time you’ve experienced such a pain, so your wailing and wiping tears away with chubby fingers and saying a name you don’t know and can’t remember.

Ka. You know the sound, Ka. But you don’t know of anything more. It repeats rhythmically in your mind like a knock on the door, rapping with urgency - but it doesn’t do anything to jog your memory. Someone is trying to be let in but you don’t know how to answer them, and you’re still crying. The distress, the inadequacy shakes you and all you feel is frustration in short simple bursts.

Your first encounter with your soulmate is written this way in your memory. A sense of urgency laced with frustration - but they’re not towards you. It’s him, his feelings - you can feel them even deeper then he can. They pierce you in a way that makes it hard to breathe, no matter how you try to escape them it’s an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The only way to escape the feelings of a dream is either to control them, or to face them and swim through the fog.

Soulmates have an urgency to them, in general. His is different, you can tell as much. Your first soulmate dream leaves the heaviest impression and each one thereafter is like pieces of a puzzle.

Sometimes you simply share random dreams, like a split screen in a video game - the two of you witness different parts of the same dreamverse. Other times, and honestly - most times, you’re experiencing their emotions or feelings. You experience their core memories, their life, in flashes and bits and pieces.

It’s not enough to know them or who they are, it’s like know everything about them except the things that matter

Sometimes you meet too. Just barely.

MEETING 1:

The room is white. When you blink, colors flash in order - red, pale yellow, orange, forest green and you know. You blink a few more times, stretching your hands out in front of yourself. Curling your hands into fist then into stretched palms, you lean forward and stretch. You wriggle your toes - notice you're wearing shoes. Clothes from your closet. Strange.

You take a look around the room but there isn't much to see. There’s a wall in front of you with a glass divider and a mirrored empty room. The room across from yours has spiky decor littered against the walls. An orange dresser, plastic grenades and play guns. You know who it is without a second warning - and a foggy part in the back of your head tells you that it’s him, again but with more force. You don’t see anything in your room, but you figure he might. All of it is confusing to you.

Before you can blink, there’s a loud thud coming from the other side of the glass. It’s a silhouette, the outline of a face - but nothing clear. Dream logic dictates you can’t know a face you’ve never seen, yet somehow you know his outline. Spiky, he’s spiky everywhere.

“Hello?,” you call out, overly tentative. The figure pauses, seems to take in whatever they must be seeing. You’re not sure what response you’re expecting, really. There’s no expectations at all.

“...Who the fuck are you?,” says a pitchy, male voice. He sounds like he’s your same age, a highschool boy. His throat is rough, yet not overly deep. It’s almost scratchy.

“Uhm,”

You’re not sure how to reply. You can see him through the glass, but not really. Still, you take note of his shadows like they’re going to tell you anything more. You shove your hands in your pockets, messing around with something inside.

“Uh.. your soulmate, I think,” you reply.

Scratching the back of your neck as an awkward silence settles, you take a few minutes to try and figure what more to say.

“We met when we were kids once too,” you explain awkwardly. He must know, has too - this soulmate thing is a two way thing, but his silence is deafening. You just want to feel this space. Is it always this awkward?

“Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Forest Green,” you repeat, like a mantra. You hear him take in a sharp breath, and freeze. For some reason, you’d like to avoid upsetting him. He doesn’t seem like he’s taking to the information too well.

“I don’t have time for this damn bullshit… whatever quirk you’ve got to mimic this - cut it the fuck out,”

Hostile.

You pause, not sure how to feel. Half of you is offended, the other half is confused - had you done something to upset him? You can feel how he feels - but you don’t understand it. You sit with your mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Unsure of how to proceed, you scoff a little.

“Woah.. this isn’t a quirk thing. We’re.. soulmates? That’s already a thing,”

More silence. You’ve.. he doesn’t seem upset, but you can tell he’s not all that keen to the idea. It’s a bare minimum improvement that you find yourself valuing, without your consent. He breathes again, throat even more hoarse than before. His voice is angry but it doesn’t fit his responses, his feelings - so you don’t pay attention to his madness. Something is off.

“... I’m not supposed to have a soulmate. No fucking way I have a soulmate,” he grits. You step back, stumbling. You didn’t have any expectations.. but this wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. You feel uneasy, sick. It must be a shared feeling if the way he leans against a wall counts for anything.

A beat of silence passes before you open your mouth to speak.

“... I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that,” you admit. He scoffs.

“Nothing you damn extra. Leave me the fuck alone,”

You don’t reply, too stunned. This was your soulmate? This.. asshole? Not that you were a peach entirely either, but this was supposedly the person that the universe had decided for you?

You shake your head. Maybe you’re just being rash? He could be a nice guy behind all the chaos. You try your best to hold onto that, that this was literally someone chosen for you before you gave up all hope. You sigh, cracking your neck.

“You can say whatever you want but.. we’re here, you know? It’s more productive to just go with it.. isn’t it?,”

“Go fuck yourself,”

“After meeting you, I’m not exactly over the fucking moon about it either. It is what is,”

“You’re not my fucking.. soulmate or whatever the fuck. Leave me alone,”

Your heart both aches with anger and sadness. You don’t know what to do. What does this shit-head know about you, anyway? You know he’s been through some shit, same as you - what makes him so entitled? You swallow the lump in your throat. It hurts. It pierces. Stupid soulmate bonds.

“Yeah? Alright. Fuck you too,”

You see him pace around for a longer before he disappears in a cloud of smoke. You didn’t even catch his name, and you’re not sure you wanted too. It must be morning, but at least you're away from him. It feels lonely, but it must just be you.

Your eyes flutter open but your heart is heavy with regret. You don’t know who it belongs to, but you’ve got class in an hour and not enough time to think about it. If he doesn’t want to meet you that’s fine.

It’s fine. Not like you wanted to meet your soulmate anyway.

__

You don’t have another meeting with your soulmate for months. Lately your dreams have little if anything to do with him or where he is, how he’s been. You have some of those split screen ones, where you know he’s there but neither of you acknowledge each other, even in spirit, like how you did before. When you wake up feeling angsty, you don’t know how to distinguish the feeling but you don’t try.

You wonder idly if he can feel your apathy, if he cares enough too. Maybe he also mistakes it for his own? It seems likely.

It’s a weekday where you’re getting ready for remedial classes at your school. First year advanced courses were no joke, and you find yourself regretting your choice to participate in them.

Still you get dressed anyway, put your uniform on and brush your teeth - wash your face with your eyes half open and look presentable. No one's home in the morning, the house is empty of any life but you. Food becomes a last minute priority, so you make an egg sandwich with cheese and eat it on the way to the train station.

You stare down at your feet as you step outside, music drowning out the noise of your surroundings aptly. The walk to the station is long and the ride is longer, but the streets are packed edge to edge. Musutafu is busy this time of year - the U.A. Sports Festival is taking place today and everything seems to reflect that. You barely manage to squeeze past all the strangers on the subway - clearly on their way to see it.

When you get to school, you're greeted by a mostly empty classroom with a teacher. These classes were straightforward as always, do the work you need to correct, have it approved and leave. It repeats until your finished with all the assignments and you get to be done. You give a respectful nod to your teacher before grabbing your work from your bag.

It goes on and on - occasionally, you hear an excited gasp and quiet chatter from classmates. It’s about the festival, the happenings - but you’re too caught up in completing your work that day and trying to get the fuck out of their as soon as possible.

Shit like that didn’t matter to you, anyways. It’s just a festival.

You leave around the same time the festival seems to have ended, the streets flooded with people - you miss the first station and wander towards an electronics store a block away from your highschool.

It’s the winners on TV. A guy with split hair - Shouto Todoroki, Endeavors son. A guy with a bird head, and a blonde with red eyes - muzzled to the pole.

When you see them, your heart stops. You can feel anger, an unfamiliar rage and humiliation building in your chest. It feels the word has stopped as you watch from afar, through screens. Your soulmate seems upset about something, but you wouldn’t know what.

And that blonde on TV, you wonder if you know him from somewhere.

MEETING 2:

Red.Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red.

You feel him before you even know what’s happening - and it catches you completely off-guard. You haven’t had a proper soulmate dream in two years. Smoke clouds your lungs, the taste of sugar burning your tongue as you cough yourself into awareness. This time, you’re not in a room but it’s a campground. In the middle of the space is a bonfire, burning warmly. This one feels more vivid, more real.

But you know it’s not, your body feel unusually light and your hands can’t hold anything for too long. You know it’s a dream, but you sit in the chair anyway. It feels like you're floating. You feel oddly warm. Dread builds in the pit of your stomach. Even though it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to your soulmate - you can’t forget the terrible first encounter. It sticks to the roof of your mouth - a bitter memory that fills you with unexplainable, irrational resentment.

But it’s not like you hadn’t been seeing him, to an extent. You’ve seen all his memories in bits and pieces - all of them tragic and painful. This time, you see people but they come in the form of small scraps. Spiky Red. Electricity. Tape. Pink with Horns. Music. Green. So much green and red - like Christmas, you’ve called it. You’ve seen disappearances, fear, anguish - so much anguish.

In the weeks after All Might’s fall, you were in so much pain - you couldn’t stop crying for days. It’s been enough time to know what feelings were yours and which were his - and these ones felt so much like him. It went on for nearly a year - you’d almost got accustomed to it. If tears showed up to blot the ink of your lecture notes, you didn’t think twice about it. You tried to keep yourself calm, steady - in hopes you could lend your soothing to him. Even if he hated your guts, you could barely believe so much sadness could exist in one person. You didn’t know what happened but whatever it was - it must’ve been terrible. At the very least, you felt sympathy.

Sympathy was enough to get by for a long time. A neutral, level-headed sympathy that helped soothe some of your own hurt.

All that said, you were hardly expecting to see him again - especially not this soon. You don’t remember the last time you thought about him in anything other than passing - actively. It’s one thing to know what's happening - you’ve felt him passively everyday for damn near two years.

But it’s another thing to see him in front of you, force yourself to acknowledge him as your soulmate even if he insists on not doing the same.

You squirm in your chair, noticing that you’re wearing PJ’s instead of clothes. Just a hoodie and sweats, none of which fit you quite right. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fiddling with the stray strand of thread loose.

“What the fuck is this shit?,”

Your stomach drops. Unsure of what to say, you opt to say nothing at all. Just let him be, sit quietly in your dreams and mind your business. Maybe he’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over.

You can’t see him from the corner of your vision but you can hear him shuffle. The way he touches things, noticing how they make noise but don’t feel quite right in his hands. How it feels real but doesn’t, how it is real and isn’t. Surely, he’s noticed you by now. The lingering silence makes you squirm.

“...It’s you,”

You flinch, lifting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. His expression is unreadable, but it’s different from before. In a fleeting moment, something occurs to you.

You can see him. What he looks like. Blonde with red eyes, and a sharp chin and thin waist. You know it must mean you’ve seen him before - perhaps you’d even seen each other, but for your life you can’t remember where you’ve seen his face. It’s right there, on the edge of your mind, but you’re stumped.

“Hello?,”

“Oh,” your reply comes short, strained. Your eyes flutter as you press your lips into a flat line. “Uh, hi,”

The blonde sits in the chair, slumping down. His eyes go towards the flickering flames without another word and you decide it’s best not to engage. It stays like that for a while, a beat of silence - not awkward but not comfortable, passing by without another thought. It all feels real, present - not like normal dreams. This must be the special kind of soulmate thing you find yourself feeling resentful towards.

His eyes are heavy. Relief is overwhelming him, with an iron grip and he’s worried you can feel it. If you can, you don’t say a word.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,”  he admits.

The words sound tender passing through his mouth, unmistakably so - but you don’t get your hopes up. Instead, you give him a placating laugh, leaning forward towards the fire and mirroring him.

“I didn’t think so either,”

When it falls silent, it feels comfortable. It’s not like either of you have anything to say to each other right now, with no manual on how this was supposed to go. If he even wanted to go there.

“I can.. see you,” you start. He squints.

“You couldn’t before?,”

This takes you by surprise. You shake your head.

“No..Could you? See me, I mean?,”

Bakugo feels heat rise to his skin. Oh. Huh.

“Yeah,” he replies, a sharp inhale leaving his lungs “I can see you,”

There’s something tense in the air. It’s a strange sensation - to know the deepest and most intimate parts of someone without even knowing their name proper, or where they went to school, or what they normally eat for breakfast. All that connects you are these mutual feelings, shared grief that holds you two to the title of soulmates. This odd bond.

“..d’ya still think I’m a quirk wielding villain?,” you laugh, or try too - you’re doing your best to cut the tension. He can feel your hurt all the way from your sit, so deep in his gut - it’s been haunting him for years. How many nights of sleep he’s lost knowing there are soft and helpless tears coming from these suppressed feelings. He doesn’t know how to say sorry, so he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s changed a lot in two years - but not enough to be good at this.

“No, I don’t,”

“Oh,”

He smiles, just a little. It’s gentle, casts shadow on his face from the light of the fire. It’s warm, everything feels warm and better and invigorating. When you look at him and his uneasy expression - you know he feels it too.

“By the way, uhm - what’s your name? Ka.. something? Right?,”

His eyes shoot up in surprise. He nods a little.

“Katsuki Bakugo,” he replies, expectantly. You seem surprised that he wants to know yours.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” comes your reply.

“Nice to meet you,” says him, Bakugo - your soulmate.

“Nice to meet you too,”

__

Getting to know Bakugo is unusually easy. You get the feeling it wouldn’t be, in the case that you were anything but soulmates - but Bakugo has never known being this intimate with someone other than you. Despite himself, how much he hates himself - you never seem too. Even though you feel and see all the ugliest parts of him - have since he was small enough to still be innocent, you always treat him the same.

Your conversations are short, and shallow. Regardless, he’s not used to talking so much about himself. But you’re always curious, so much so Bakugo doesn’t have the heart to see your countless questions go unanswered.

You keep a little notebook of all of your encounters. You remember them by heart but write them down too, just in case you miss something. You ask about his friends - Spiky Red and Soft Green, referring to them that way even after you’ve known their names. You ask about his work - the life of a dangerous hero, and if he ever gets nervous flying through the air.

Admittedly, he’s mean to you. He teases you so frequently, he’s lost count of all the times you’ve huffed and puffed at his sarcastic remarks. Still, you never turn away from him. You stand with your foot down and your arms crossed over your chest - insistent on making him feel flustered too. And it works, somehow - because you know all too much about Bakugou and always gets him right where he’s most conscious about. You don’t have to tease him about his feelings since you know them like the palms of your hand.

But these shallow conversations always mean a little more to him that he knows how to verbalize, and half the time he doesn’t need to do that at all. You’ve learned the masterful of working around him quietly, making all the parts of that feel too big to love - something small and fragile. Somehow, you’ve made being with him, even as friends - feel like less of an impossible feat but a dream.

Katsuki Bakugo has been in love with you since he was 6 years old. There must be some feelings we cannot share with our soulmates, because he has no idea if you feel it or not. He just knows he does, somewhere deep in the cavern of his heart, he loves you.

You never cross the barrier of romance with him, though. A paralyzing fear seems to settle in your bones when you breach too close to love and intimacy - and Bakugo understands those feelings, even if he doesn’t know exactly why they’re there. It’s not something you’ve decided to tell him yet, but he feels it in the same way he feels your loneliness. You may be kind but you’re more guarded than he is, and not fearless but reckless.

But he still finds himself aching to love and be loved by you, no matter how much he hates it. The yearning still manages to swallow him, even late into the night.

MEETING 3:

It’s been a while since your last meeting with Bakugo but not long. You were 21 now, but your dream visits were frequent. When you weren't speaking or seeing him through dreams - you were watching him on TV. You’d been yet to meet with him in real life but to you, that was okay. Seeing him like this had been more than enough.

Today was different. Normally, that bonfire was always a back-drop to these little encounters but it was a field today - a filed with rolling hills and hundreds of flowers and tall grass that made you feel itchy. The sun was permanently stuck right before it set but it was so warm everywhere. When you get there, there’s a blanket on the top of one of the hills. You sit on it cautiously and watch the wind pass. Everything is tinged orange, and red - you know he’s there with you before he appears.

When he does, he seems different. You glance over at him as he stumbles towards you in a stupor, and when he does finally sit - you get a whiff of alcohol coming from his neck and mouth. It’s strong enough to make a little dizzy. Blinking owlishly, he sits crisscross besides you, staring a little at the surroundings.

“..the fuck?,” he slurs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh. He nearly falls over, body swaying so you bring his head down to your shoulder wordlessly, a furious heat running all over your skin. Even though you can’t feel him, the gesture makes you feel something in your belly.

“Why’re you so drunk?,”

“Birthday,” he mumbles. Your eyes widen in surprise. Bakugo is seemingly unfazed, eyes drooping with tiredness. He’s completely inebriated.

You feel yourself grow tender. You’d have to wake up and remember the days date. Despite all the times you’ve met, you had no clue about his birthday or how he celebrated. You feel your heart ache at the idea you’ve spent the latter half of it together, in your own way.

“Happy Birthday, Bakugo.”

“Bakugo this, Bakugo that,” he growls, a little incoherent “We’re supposed to be fucking soulmates and you still call me by that.. damn name.”

He hiccups a little as you sit there stunned. You blink.

“.. You think of us as soulmates?,”

“Are you some kind of moron?,”

You scowl, flicking his forehead with your thumb and forefinger. He makes a noise of indignance.

“Well, how would I know? When we first met, you didn’t seem enthused about it,”

Bakugo sighs tiredly.

“I was 15 and an asshole - clearly I don’t fuckin’ feel that anymore,”

You seem surprised again.

“..You don’t?,”

Instead of swearing at you, he closes his eyes and gets closer to you. The liquor runs through his system like liquid courage and he nods a little.

“Not at all,”

“What do you..”

“What do you think I mean?,” he barks a laugh. You feel your pulse under your skin, drumming against your chest like a hammer. You can’t even breathe.

You’ve had feelings for Bakugo from the second proper meeting you’d had with him. It was clear as a day that he was your soulmate for good reason, that inexplicable draw that kept your heart from ever belonging to anyone else. You tried to - tried to go on dates and see other opportunities through but he was always so one of a kind.

Yet, you’d given up all hope that it would mean anything to harbor these feelings, convinced that Bakugo simply wasn’t interested in you In doing any of this. You didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want - so you kept your distance with hope that he’d still be in your life. It was enough, or you’d wanted it to be.

It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t started thinking about it more and more as the days pass. What it would be like to see him, touch him and love him and be with him for real - these passive daydreams gone vivid. If he could see your dreams, he must know about them. But you didn’t know how to approach it - how to approach love at all.

That’s the thing with soulmates. You’re told that you’ll just have the answers, destiny will do the hard work but that’s far from true. Because even now, with Bakugo leaning  on your shoulder with this confession lingering in the air - you don’t know what to do.

“Stop being so nervous,” he mumbles. You stumble a little over yourself.

“Sorry,”

He chuckles.

“You really need me to say it, huh?,” he sighs. He picks himself. If he’s drunk and reckless, then fuck it - he’s gonna take it all the way. He drops his head onto your lap with a tired sigh.

“I think you’re my soulmate, you fuckin’ idiot,” he admits.

And it’s hard to say, because feelings don’t come easy for Bakugo Katsuki - but it’s the least he can do. All Bakugo Katsuki has ever known is to be lonely. It’s a loneliness that he’d forced on himself. Bottling up all the anger and sadness and swallowing it. It’s long since sunk it’s claws into him. That overwhelming, all consuming ugly feeling that lingers underneath that superiority complex.

That no one would ever, could ever love the ugliness that lingers in him. That no one who knew him for what he truly is, could care for him. Deku was the first of many disbeliefs and not much had changed.

Except for when it did. Except for when he met you - in a dream, and you were real and beautiful even at 15. That the universe hadn’t been playing some sick joke on him when he kept seeing you in his dreams, so soothing to his teenage loneliness. You were real and that was so fucking scary.

But you loved him anyway. Looked out for him when he was at his lowest - the soothing beat of your heart  in the days after All Mights end . When he cried himself into sleep and dreamed of you. God, how he dreamed of you. Not especially romantic dreams, but dreams of how you made breakfast. How you watched cartoons on Sunday and read manga in your classes instead of the assigned work. How you fell asleep on the train station and always ate icecream after big tests. How you were especially mundane and how he got to be apart of that everyday routine.

After all, you see dreams of each other, but Bakugo has no clue what your dreams of him look like. His have always looked like you though.

When he was worthless and empty and unable to give you anything meaningful, to apologize or put his pride away - you had loved him anyway. Felt for him with clumsy hands and held on, not letting go. Even when he was begging for you to leave him alone, in fear of this all being nothing more than a cruel dream - you held on tightly to him. With your silly notebook questions and dumb names.

Bakugo Katsuki has never known what it means to love someone who isn’t you. Even if you found someone else and there was someone better than you for him, he would grit his teeth and bear it. He wonders if he’ll ever believe he deserves you. He wants to believe you’re his soulmate - to believe you wont ever leave. To believe that he did something right enough that the universe could give him someone like you.

And he wishes he could say all this, but he can’t - he just closes his eyes and hopes you can feel it.

“You’re so mean,”

“Isn’t that why you like me?,” he grins.

And you can feel his sincerity. He should feels yours too.

“I love you, actually,”

He gasps, a sharp breath that stabs his lungs. He feels sober from the confession.

His voice is gravelly when he speaks.

“Yeah, shit - me too,”

__

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. The address is correct, it has to be with the way this place looks. Only a hero could live here, with the floors that lead up to skies. He lives on 3rd floor, so you swallow your fear. You give yourself a thumbs up in the glass window pane of the building before entering through the doors.

When you get there, a box sits. You press the button next to his place, bouncing on the balls of your feet until you answer.

“Hello?,”

His voice feels different in real life. You  cough.

“Uh, hi,” you greet awkwardly “I’m here,”

“Oh,” he says. You hear something buzz and then him again. “Come on up,”

And you do. The elevator ride feels like it stretches mild, classic piano echoing against the empty walls. You feel yourself feel sick but you’re not sure it’s from the movement. All you can do is fidget and wait.

When the doors open, you peak your head out into the hallway. He’s the first one on the left, just as promised. You can see a welcome mat - forest green, and something in you knows that it’s the right one.

You step up and knock, three times precisely. Your heart is all the way in your ears and everything in you is filled with unease and excitement.

When the door swings open, the world stops. You gape like a fish out of water in disbelief. He’s tall and big like he promised he’d be, but you’re unprepared. His chin is scruffy, eyes full of sleep. Strong chest and arms that seem to crowd your vision, you don’t know what do.

His expression is full to the brim with feelings you’ve never seen. He steps aside with his head ducked down.

“Come in,”

“Ah.. right,”

You take your shoes off and place them in the slippers meant for you - they fit you just right, and it can’t be a coincidence. Your heart swells up a little as you take your coat off, hanging it on the rack. You can feel his eyes as they linger on your silhouette.

“So -,”

Before you can get a word out, you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist. His scruff brushes against the skin of your neck as he holds you tightly too him. The warmth of his breath lingers on your neck - and he hiccups, a sob stored in his rib cages let out with a howl. The tears blur your vision too. You can feel his drip onto your shoulder as you snivel into his neck. Your legs feel weak, but he holds you up at the door - the only thing keeping you standing.

You cling around him tightly, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. It’s him, your soulmate, Katsuki Bakugo. He’s real and holding you - and he smells like leather and sugar and a fireplace. He’s warm and strong and overwhelming and your crying into his shoulder with so much feeling you don’t know what to do. You hit him weakly, unsure of what do with yourself and he laughs.

“Damn you, shitty woman - makin’ me fucking cry,” but his voice is strained. It’s like something connected, how you feel each other so intimately in that moment. Not only because you’re soulmates, but because you love each other so deeply. Your heart feels heavy.

When you pull away, you manage to give him a warbly smile.

Your hands cradle his face - so handsome and wonderful. You lean forward, emboldened, and peck him. He melts into your touch like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. It makes you grin.

Maybe you don’t realize that he had.

He’d been waiting for you all this time.

[raggaraddy]

your writing is amazing 🥺

could i ask for a yoongi version of the reader being shot because of them? your other ones are so good!!!

Family affairs

@dramaclub-thin

A/N: Thank you, sweetheart! I'm glad you're enjoying the series. This one has a bit of OT7 and I hope you like it too. 💜💜💜

If anyone else wants to request, you can here.

Other parts:

Namjoon

Jimin

Taehyung

Jungkook

Summary: You'd tried so hard to hide your relationship with Yoongi from your father. You knew when he found you were dating someone from a rival club that he'd kill you. You just didn't think it would be literal.

Trigger warnings: Violence, Filicide, Blood, gun usage.

Yoongi

Mafia! Yoongi

Mafia! BTS

"Yes Daddy," you poke your head through the door to his office with a little knock. Normally you would never bother your father while he was working, but one of your brothers came to your room to let you know he was calling for you.

"Ah, Darling. Yes, have a seat." He stands up from his desk, gesturing to the chair ahead of him. "I need your advice on something."

For a moment you get a flutter in your stomach. He never asks you for anything. Your his pretty princess on a pedestal. And he never involves you in anything that a woman wouldn't have been responsible for in the 1950s.

"Of course," you smile, shifting comfortably.

"I know you're tech-savvy, so maybe you can explain this to me. I had some photos printed, but I think there must be something wrong with the camera. Have a look,"

Reaching into his desk drawer as he speaks he pulls out a stack of A4 photos. As he lays them out your eyes jump straight back up at him. Checking for his reaction, a sharp pang of absolute fear hitting you. They're pictures of you and Yoongi, his arm around you when you were coming out of the Bangtan clubhouse.

"I know the camera has to be faulty, because that" he tapes your image, "looks like you. And I know my one and only daughter wouldn't be socializing with those Bulletproof scum."

"Daddy, I-I," you stutter with no idea what to say.

You thought you were so clever, so careful that there was no way he'd ever find out. Even when Yoongi would worry about you possibly being caught you would shrug it off. Your love was invincible and meant to be, and you were smart. No chance your family would ever know you're with Yoongi, and no way his family would ever know you were from a rival gang. As far as they knew, you were just Y/n Brown, the hairdresser from one district over.

But clearly, you weren't careful or clever enough.

Your stark silence is loud enough for your father and he nods a sombre confirmation. "How long Y/n?" He questions.

"Daddy, I don't-"

"How long?!" He's quick to anger, making you jump.

"A few months," you lie, your eyes dropping to your lap. Telling him it's been closer to 18 months is only going to enrage him further.

Slumping back into his office chair he lets out a heavy sigh.

"You think you raise your kids right. To know loyalty and family." He derides looking at you fiercely. "But then you find out your own daughter will open her legs for any cretin. In complete disregard of everything she should know."

You knew it would be awful if he ever found out, you know he is a terrifying dangerous man, but hearing your father's derogatory comments are harder to take than you ever expected.

"What did you tell them?" He sits forward. His demeanour, his expression going from disappointed father to cold mafioso.

Your mouth going dry, you swallow hard. Shaking your head softly. "Nothing."

"Bullshit!" He yells. "You expect me to believe they just let the daughter of Bastille get all cosy with one of the 7 without you giving up something."

This is so bad. You knew your parents, your brothers, the entire Bastille would disown you for this, but they'll actually kill you if they think you've sold them out.

"No. I didn't tell them anything. None of them knows who I am. Only Yoongi knows. And I didn't tell him shit. You know I wouldn't." You defend yourself trying to reign in your distress.

"Well, there's a lot of things I wouldn't think a daughter of mine could do." His voice is so detached. He's stopped looking at you. This is so so bad.

"Dad. I didn't say anything." You restate, fighting to convince him. Feeling like you're trying to prove the case for your own life. "I know the rules. Don't talk to anyone. Not cops. Not friends or enemies." You repeat the words that had been drilled in your entire childhood. You knew nothing, you saw nothing. Those are the rules.

"I don't believe you." He says bitterly.

Your hands are trembling, you're panting heavily. You know being with a rival club member is a stupid thing, but the clubs are in a truce.  And despite your father's opinion, you would never be so stupid as to actually say anything. And Yoongi would never let you, even if you decided to. You did one thing wrong, but you made sure you did everything else right.

Leaning back, he opens his phone book. Searching for a number.

"Dad," You plead for his attention. Raising the phone to his ear he shushes you, placing a finger over his mouth.

You have no idea what to do. You've seen him decimate people for so much less than what he's accusing you of. You don't know how to prove your innocence.

The call answers and you can hear a distant 'hello'.  Putting the phone on speaker he puts the receiver down.

"Warren L/n here. I believe I have something of yours," he says.

"What are you talking about?" You inhale a staggered breath, hearing the familiar gruff voice of Kim Namjoon.

Your dad's plan was simple. If you were telling the truth about Bangtan not knowing who you were, their leader would be confused and concerned that you were with the leader of Bastille. But if they knew who you were, this would be a much more straightforward issue. Namjoon would understand right away why he was calling.

And if you were lying about one thing, he could assume you were lying about more.

"Say hello Y/n." Your dad prompts, his look daring you to refuse.

"Hi," You squeak, nervously chewing the inside of your cheek. Your own safety aside, Namjoon was going to kill Yoongi.

There's a brief pause. The background noise on Namjoon's side disappearing. "Kidnapping women? I didn't realise you were handling that personally now."

"Who said kidnap?" he leads the conversation.

"Then maybe you want to explain what one of our girls is doing with you?" Namjoon growls, sounding protective.

That was enough confirmation for your father. The leader didn't know what was going on. But he was about to.

On Namjoons side of the line, he was pacing back and forth in a closed meeting room at the entrance of the clubhouse. Your father was revealing the secret that you and Yoongi had fought so hard to keep.

The phone call ending, Namjoon was in a rage. Marching across the bar he stormed at the table with other members around it. His maddened expression drawing Yoongi's attention. But the older member didn't have any reason to think this fury was directed at him and so he doesn't react quick enough as Namjoon punches him in the face, knocking him from his chair.

The other boys instantly becoming alert, Jungkook jumps to Namjoons side holding his arm out in front of him, looking ready to intervene. Jimin standing between the floored Yoongi and the enraged leader.

"Hyung, what the hell ar-" Jimin snaps.

"You fucking idiot! Bastille's daughter?!" he roars trying to push through Jimin. Jungkook stepping in to help keep him at bay.

Climbing back to his feet, nursing a split lip, Yoongi's eyes go wide. Completely caught off guard by Namjoon's revelation. "How did you-" he gapes.

"Everything she's seen, everything she knows! Do you have any idea how much you've exposed this club?" He lunges again, bowling the mediating members out of the way. Diving through Yoongi, the two men trade blows as they scuffle on the floor.

The scene quickly gets out of hand, and as Yoongi throws Namjoon through a table, Jin and Hoseok come from a backroom to step in also. The four of them now working to pry the two battling men apart. Jimin and Hoseok holding back Yoongi. The oldest and youngest members trying to keep Namjoon at bay.

"Enough!" Jin scolds with a firm shove to Namjoon's chest. "Someone explain what the hell is going on!"

"Just Suga thinking with his dick, instead of his brain." Namjoon spits.

Shirking off the boys, Yoongi barges forward infuriated by the provocative comment. War breaking out again with a solid hit at Namjoon, a gash opening over his eye. Another difficult struggle beginning for the members, grappling and clawing them apart. Having to fully restrain them to have them stop. Being held as they bleed.

Grabbing both of them by the collar, Jin demands their focus. "The next man who throws a punch leaves here with a bullet in his leg!" He growls. "Am I clear?!" His fist tightens, stiffening their necklines.

"Yes,"

"Yes, Hyung."

The two of them conceded, their energy dropping as their eldest releases them. "Good. Now sit down so we can talk this shit out."

It takes several minutes and a round of drinks, but the room calms down enough for the members to sit down. They send the few 2nd levels out and the 95's girlfriends. The bar remaining with only the 7 original members. Taehyung coming back just as the disclosure began.

Namjoon starts, passing along the information your father had given him. The 6 of them all sharing disappointed, worried or angry glances towards Yoongi.

"She wouldn't have said anything." Yoongi insists, after explaining his side also. Trying to defend his decision. To defend you.

"You can't know that," Jimin argues, flumping back in his seat. Taking a sip with a pissed-off scowl on his face.

"Yeah, we've all been pussy blinded before. You're not thinking clearly." Jungkook snips.

"Maknae-" Yoongi warns. Getting tired of the disrespect that keeps getting thrown his way.

"Hey, watch it." Jin interrupts, correcting Jungkook's blunt attitude. The youngest shrugging, downing the last of his drink.

"Look, if she was giving information to L/n, then why would he call to tell you that he knows." Yoongi disputes. Hoping to bring reason back into the debate.

"He wants to trade. The latest shipment of horse for Y/n." Namjoon answers with a frustrated scoff and a roll of his eyes.

"That's close to 500 K. That's not happening," Hoseok jumps in. The rest of them firmly nodding in agreement.

"Okay, but if that's the case. If he's trying to sell her off, that means she's not working with him. Right?" Taehyung backs Yoongi's point.

"Idiot," Jimin shoves his friend, "It could be a part of the plan. A way to rip us off for half a million."

"Or it could be a set-up," Namjoon adds. "Let's say Hyung's right, and she isn't working with her old man. If we're willing to sit down, if we try to buy her back, it confirms that she knows enough that we're concerned about it."

"I'm telling you, she doesn't know anything. She didn't want to know anything. And even if she did, she's not gonna give it up." Again Yoongi vehemently defends you.

"Well if she doesn't give him anything then L/n kills her." Namjoon finalizes. "To hurt the club, and as retribution for her betrayal."

"What I don't understand is why you would let her go back? If you trust her and you know how ruthless Bastille is, why would you let her keep going back to him?" Jin asks, genuinely baffled.

Standing up Yoongi can't take anymore. He's furious. He's upset. At himself most of all. Feeling to blame for allowing you to be in this situation, he leaves in anger. Needing some time to himself to think.

"I don't know, she seemed pretty cool," Taehyung mutters, leaning into Namjoon. "You don't really think he would kill his own daughter, right?"

It's been 2 days and you've been locked in an empty storage shed at the edge of the property like a captive. Your father turned your world upside down looking for information. His people went through your computer, your phone, your car, your room. Everything that was yours he and his men had raided. And just like you said, there was nothing there. No information about Bastille, and nothing about Bangtan.

"Suga. I'm guessing that's Min Yoongi? Unless you're cheating on him." Your dad muses holding up your phone. That is so humiliating. So many nudes and dirty texts are in that chat. There may not be revealing information, but there was still plenty of personal stuff.

"You know Darling, I don't like to admit when I am wrong, but it looks like you were telling the truth. I can't find any proof that you gave up any family details." He smiles softly, your heart lifting with relief for a moment. "But then I was looking through your camera roll and, in the pictures where you actually have clothes on, it's just full of Bangtan." He comes further into the empty shed, leaning on the wall alongside you. Showing you the screen as he scrolls through. The only entrance being blocked by one of his more grizzly looking men. "See here, there's you and a bunch of them at a restaurant. There's you and the leader. You and the crazy one. Here's a family-style photo, isn't that nice."

He keeps scrolling through shot after shot, exhibiting an entire album full of Bangtan family pictures.

"I'm sure you never expected anyone else to see these. I guess I should have been teaching you not to put the same password for multiple devices." He scoffs. "But the interesting thing, when I'm going through these photos you seem to be really close with all of them. Some of these even go back to last year. Which makes the timeline you gave me a little off."

He shows the details of one of the pictures to you, the time stamp from when you had already been with Yoongi for 6 months.

"This one is from May 2nd. Last year. On the 10th those bastards stole one of my shipping containers. With nearly 100 grand worth of merchandise. Did you know about that?"

"You mean people." You sneer, his characterization of human trafficking as 'merchandise' making your skin crawl.

"So you did know." He smiles coldly.

"I found out- I knew after," you justify. Even as you continue to defend yourself, you have a sick feeling that it's all for nothing.

"I'm really curious what else you know." He hums, walking around the front of you to get back into your eye line.

"I don't know anything," you tell him for the 1000th time with an exasperated shake of your head. Moving away to the far side of the shed.

"Darling, I'm your father and I'm telling you we need to reconcile this. Your mother is worried sick. I'm here losing sleep over this. I'm giving you a chance to repay all the damage you've done. A chance to forget all this. You tell me everything you know about Bangtan, and just like that," he snaps his fingers, "you get to return to your comfortable life."

You don't trust his change in tone or his promises for a minute. You may not have known the darkest parts of who he is, but that's how you can be sure that his offer to forgive and forget is rubbish. Not even the father in him would let you forget a mistake. Especially one this major, not with the way he is reacting. And he's so much more brutal when it comes to Bastille.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you've betrayed your family. And we'll find out what we want to know in other ways." he taps the back of his hand in the other, symbolizing a beat down.

You shake your head hard. You might love your dad. But you don't like him. You've known for most of your life that he was a bad guy. And Yoongi, Bangtan, they might not be the good guys, but they've been the family you've always wanted. There is no way you were telling him even the most insignificant detail.

"Hit me all you want dad, I still don't know anything." You snarl.

"I could never hit my own daughter." He taps his heart, a feigned pained expression on his face. Nodding his head in your direction, he trades places with his man who advances on you.

Breathing hard you step back only to hit the wall.

The tall, square-built man swings. The back of his hand slapping your cheek, the force so strong that it smacks you into the corner sidewall. His hand, like a vice, grabs ahold of your head and mightily slams it into the steel beam running down the sheet metal wall. Pushing your hands against his chest, you weakly attempt to fend him off, but he ends your efforts with another solid wack against the frame.

As blood streams down your head, his focus switches. The majority of his attacks landing on your torso.

With you curled up on the floor, wheezing and gasping for breath, the assault finally stops. But not out of mercy. Even through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the outburst of gunfire in the distance.

Both your dad and his man rush out, leaving you locked away. While it's for an equally terrifying reason, you're thankful to have this time to catch your breath. Although every laborious intake brings agony.

After some time, light floods back into the room, your father standing in the doorway outlined by the setting sun. "I'm sorry Darling. If I had to do this, I hoped it would be a bit more ceremonious. But we don't have the time for that now."

You gasp at him raising his gun at you. He shoots three times. One in your chest, one in your shoulder and one in your stomach.

The shock, the impact takes the breath from you. And you can't draw it back in. Your eyes glassing over, your head filled with nothing but white noise. Feeling a fleeting moment of relief as everything goes quiet and dark.

"Fuck. No!" Yoongi howls. He, Jin and two 2nd ranks had chased after your father as he fled.

Bangtan's siege on his property was highly successful till that point, and he had run downhill to the storage garage. Looking to make a getaway.

The other's continue after him as Yoongi stumbles into you. His steely outer shell crumbling away the moment he sees your body limp and bleeding out.

Falling beside you he leans over shaking and in tears. Kissing your lips gently with heartfelt pleas "I'm sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry. Please don't do this. Please."

Jin doubles back, watching distraught from the entrance as his brother falls apart.

Lifting your head up, Yoongi brings your forehead to his. The movement making you splutter blood. The first sign of life that either of the men had seen.

"Holy fuck, she's alive." Jin gawks, jumping in beside Yoongi pressing on the hole in your stomach. The bullet in your shoulder and chest had both hit bone, stopping the slug from going through, blocking the wounds from severe blood loss. The bullet in your torso shot through your bowls and thankfully not through your vital organs. Meaning your chances of survival were much higher. It was either 3 highly unlucky shots or three precisely placed ones.

"I'm so sorry Y/n." Yoongi's in shock. Devastated and guilt-ridden, and unable to make himself function.

"Dude, get your shit together or she's not gonna make it." Jin smacks the side of his brothers head, snapping him out of his grief-stricken daze.

"Can you save her?" He asks rubbing the tears from his eyes.

"Not a chance. But I can keep her alive for a minute until we get to the clubhouse. Call the doc, tell him to meet us there." Jin orders, having much more clarity at this moment. "And get the boys to bring the car around. We're going to need a few of us to move her."

Yoongi follows Jin's lead, wiping the blood from his hands onto his pants to dial.

"Think of it this way," Jin smiles shortly, trying to soothe Yoongi's fear and panic with an ill-timed joke. "If she survives, at least she'll have proved she's Bangtan."

[xoxoavenger]

Crazy

pairing: Luke Skywalker x reader

summary: Y/N goes a little crazy when Luke doesn't return from his patrol, and she definitely outs their secret relationship.

word count: 3624

warnings: cannon typical injury

masterlist

"Do you have to go?" Y/N asked, grabbing Luke's arm before he slipped out of the bed.

"If I don't go now, people will get suspicious and come looking for me." Luke kissed her neck, and she rolled onto her back.

"I'm sorry you're so popular, but that's not my fault." Y/N said, eyes still closed and still hanging onto him.

"Y/N," Luke whined, falling back into bed with her as she pulled at him.

"I think you're sick today." Y/N said, placing her arms around him and making him as close as he could be to her.

"There will still be people looking for me. I have to go." Luke kissed her head, untangling himself from her. "You should probably get up too, Y/N." Luke began putting on the extensive layers he had to have on in order to not freeze on this ice planet.

"I don't want to." She mumbled, and he rolled his eyes fondly at her.

"Come on." Luke pulled her up, and she finally opened her eyes. Luke had two layers out of the five he normally put on for missions, and Y/N pouted.

"Why did you put your clothes on?" She asked, and Luke let out a small laugh.

"Because it's cold. You need to put your clothes on too." Luke grabbed Y/N's long sleeved under shirt, and she lifted her arms up so he could put it over her. "Are you ready to go to work today?" Luke asked, getting dressed himself after helping Y/N.

"No." She muttered, wiping her eyes. "Can you do my hair?" Y/N asked, and Luke smiled at her.

"I can't do it as well as Leia does, Y/N. You know that." Luke said, but he still moved behind Y/N and began braiding her hair in two sections. "Here's your hat, love." Luke put the hat on Y/N, and she smiled at him.

"Be careful." She said, leaning on her tip toes to kiss him. He kissed back, lips warm against her cold body.

"I'm always careful." He smirked as they parted.

"Keep talking like that and you'll sound like Han." Y/N smirked, and Luke huffed out a breath. "I'm serious, Luke. I don't know what I'd do without you." She placed her hands on his chest, wishing he would be closer to her than the millions of layers between them to keep them warm.

"I know. You'd go crazier than you already are, Y/N." Luke smiled, hands rubbing his hands up and down her hips.

"Stop it!" Y/N whined, hitting his chest.

"I love you." Luke said, bringing her close.

"I thought you had to leave." Y/N rested her head on his chest.

"I do." He kissed her forehead.

"I love you too." Y/N kissed Luke one more time before the separated and made their way to their respective jobs.

~

"Han? Where's Luke?" Y/N asked as soon as Han walked into the control room. She knew Luke hadn't checked in yet, and he never forgets.

"He's checking out a meteorite that hit near him." Han answered.

"Alone?"

"With all the meteor activity in this system, it's going to be difficult to spot approaching ships." Y/N's question was disregarded, and she felt her heart race. Something wasn't right.

"General, I got to leave. I can't stay anymore." Han said, and Y/N looked over at Leia. She knew the princess had feelings for the captain, even if she would never admit it out loud.

"What?" Leia turned to see Y/N staring at her.

"Tell him how you feel, Leia! You don't really want him to leave, do you?" Y/N asked, and Liea turned to look at Han again, who was still talking to the General.

"When are you going to tell Luke how you feel, Y/N?" Leia whispered, and Y/N rolled her eyes. Luke and her were still new at the whole love thing, so no one knew about what happened behind closed doors.

"Well, Your Highness, guess this is it." Han said, and Y/N and Leia turned to see Han now behind them.

"That's right." Leia nodded.

"We hate to see you go, Han." Y/N said, and Han shoved her slightly.

"Don't tell me things you don't mean." He smirked, before looking at Leia. "Well, don't get all mushy on me, Princess. So long." And then Han was out the door. Leia and Y/N shared a look before Liea was after him, leaving Y/N to wonder where Luke was.

~

"Han!" Y/N yelled, making the man stand up and move from under his ship.

"What now?" He asked, and Y/N shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

"Where's Luke?" She asked, and Han's face immediately changed to concern.

"What do you mean?"

"He hasn't come back yet. Leia and I don't know where he is, and the temperature is starting to drop and-"

"Hold on, honey. I don't know where he is." Han informed her.

"Nobody knows where he is." C-3PO informed them, and Y/N and Han turned to see the gold machine standing beside them.

"Nobody?" Y/N muttered.

"What do you mean, nobody knows?" Han asked, and Y/N's heart picked up its pace as if she was sprinting. "Deck Officer!" Han was yelling before 3PO could speak.

"Excuse me, sir, might I-"

"Shut it, 3PO." Y/N mumbled, following Han.

"Do you know where Commander Skywalker is?" Han asked.

"I haven't seen him." Y/N shut her eyes as the man spoke, trying to think of the best case scenario as stomach churned.

"Is it possible he came in through the south entrance?" Y/N asked, eyes still closed.

"Yes."

"It's possible? Why don't you go find out? It's getting dark out there." Han commanded.

"Yes, sir." The man responded, and it was quiet until Y/N felt hands on her shoulders.

"Y/N?" Han's voice cut through her thoughts, and she opened her eyes. "Are you alright? You're breathing really heavily." Han said, and Y/N nodded, although her breath intake increased.

"Hey, calm down. You're going to make yourself pass out." Han put a gloved hand on her face, and Y/N didn't react. "You probably need some sleep, I'm guessing. Are you tired?" Han had no idea what he was doing, but Luke's best friend was freaking out and normally he dealt with this sort of stuff.

"We need to find Luke." Y/N muttered, suddenly grabbing a helmet and scarf. She was putting them on, glassy look in her eyes.

"You need to stay here, Y/N." Han said, hands still on her shoulders. "Are you okay? You're shaking." Han was staring at Y/N, concerned. She was blinking rapidly and shaking behind the eye shield.

"I'm just cold. Come on, we need to find Luke." Y/N said, putting the helmet on.

"No, I'm going to find Luke. You're going to stay here." Han barely gave her time to finish her sentence. She began to walk away and he grabbed her, pulling her back. "Y/N, seriously. You're not going."

"Let go of me, Han, or I swear to-

"Stop fighting! You're not going!" Han yelled, and Y/N struggled in his arms weakly.

"I have to go! I have to help him!" Y/N yelled, but Han held onto her tightly.

"You can help him by staying here and working in the command center." He then moved to hug her, and she started to cry in his arms.

"Save him, please." She cried to him, and Han felt his heart break. Although Luke and Y/N never said anything about their relationship, Han knew there was something going on.

"I will. I promise."

~

"Sir, all the patrols are in." Y/N and Leia turned to hear the conversation between the two men.

"Still no-" Y/N turned her head as the man cut himself off, the pair obviously not wanting to say more because Leia and herself were there. "Still no contact from Skywalker or Solo." The man said quieter, and Leia grabbed Y/N's arm.

"Mistress Leia, Mistress Y/N, R2 says he's been quite unable to pick up any signals, although he does admit that his own range is far too weak to abandon all hope." 3PO informed them, and Y/N took a deep breath, wishing her emotions away.

"Your highness, there's nothing more we can do tonight." One of the men said to Leia, and Y/N turned her back to them, trying to clear her mind. It was going to be very cold at night, and Y/N knew it would be hard to survive.

"The shield doors must be closed."

"What?" Y/N cried out, spinning to face them.

"Y/N, we can't do anything until morning." Leia said, pain in her voice.

"They're going to freeze out there!" Y/N cried, and she heard Chewy let out a growl.

"Close the doors." Leia said, and Y/N felt her world collapse in on her, head spinning.

"He's going to die." Y/N mumbled, tears spilling out of her eyes. She looked to Leia, who had a sad frown on her face.

"We don't know that. Han and Luke are strong, Y/N, they can do this." Leia tried to comfort her, but Y/N just shook her head as more tears went tumbling down her cheeks. Just as she was about to fall, to let her body go numb, Chewy grabbed onto her, turning her to him and wrapping his long arms around her as she cried into his fur.

"R2 says the chances of survival are 725 to one." 3PO said, and then the loud clash of the door closing sounded, causing Y/N to cry out. 3PO kept talking, but Y/N drowned him out, sobbing into Chewbacca.

"I'm sure Luke and Han will be back in the morning." Leia's hand was at her back, and Y/N turned her face to see the princess, still holding tight to Chewy.

~

She slept the worst she has ever slept in her entire life, tossing and turning, her eyes not wanting to stay closed. Still, when she woke up, she was expecting to be in Luke's arms. Instead, she woke up next to a furball, and the pain of yesterday's events came crashing down. Y/N picked herself up, wiping a hand over her face. Her head was spinning, and her chest was hurting from her heart beating out of her chest for so long. She came out of the Millennium Falcon, which she barely remembers falling stumbling in and falling asleep, to see Leia pacing in the hanger.

"Did you even sleep?" Y/N asked, pulling her sleeves down.

"Did you?" Leia looked to Y/N, seeing the bags under her eyes, and then back to the open door. "They sent the rescue team out a little while ago. I'm waiting for word that they found them." Leia said over the irrelevant chatter of the rescue team.

"Hopefully they find something more than just frozen bodies." Y/N said, and Leia frowned at her.

"Have hope, Y/N. I'm sure they'll be okay." Leia put a hand on her shoulder, and Y/N smiled at her.

"Echo Base, this is Rouge Two. I've found them. Repeat, I've found them." Came through the comm, and Y/N and Leia both let out a sigh of relief, hugging each other. Y/N almost felt herself fall as her knees buckled, but Leia righted her.

Y/N and Leia awaited the plane that would be carrying Han and Luke, and Y/N rushed over to it as soon as they landed. Luke was being pushed on a medic carrier, and Y/N followed with it. He was pale, a black eye and cuts adorning his face. Y/N pushed the hair out of his face, feeling his cold skin.

"We need to get him into a bacta tank." Someone said, and Y/N looked up.

"Will he be okay?" Y/N asked, and someone in front of her stopped, making her stop. Luke kept going, and Y/N tried to get around the medic.

"He'll be fine, Ma'am. He will need to spend at least ten hours in the bacta tank, which is a hard sight to see. Are you sure you want to stay with him?" The man asked, and Y/N furrowed her brows in anger.

"Get out of my way." She said, pushing past him and running to keep up with Luke. She watched as he was hooked up to a breathing tube, and then stripped down. The droids slipped a machine over his arms before lifting him into the tank. Y/N made her way forwards toward the tank, placing her hands on the glass as she looked at Luke. He was completely unconscious, and every so often a droid attached to the tank would shock him, causing his back to arch and his body to tense.

Y/N stayed at the tank for twelve hours, sitting next to and leaning on it while watching Luke. She needed to make sure he was okay.

"You should get some sleep. He'll be pulled out soon." Han said, putting a hand on Y/N's shoulder. Han and Leia had been in and out with C-3PO and R2-D2, but Y/N had stayed the entire time, only eating a small portion of the food they had brought.

"I'm okay." Y/N said, smiling up at Han and wiping a hand across her face. He grimaced, and Y/N looked up at Luke, wishing he could just be close to her. Watching him float in the tank lifelessly was unsettling, and all she wanted to do was cuddle with him for an entire solstice.

"You need to sleep at some point. Chewy told me you barley slept on the Falcon last night, and it's getting late." Han told her, and Y/N looked back to him

"Exactly. I slept last night so I'm fine." Y/N told him.

"You need to eat and sleep, and then Luke will be out." Han pushed, and Y/N stood up.

"Why do you care? You were going to leave anyway." Y/N crossed her arms, and Han looked almost hurt.

"I was just trying to help you. Don't want you looking like more of a mess than normal when he comes out." Han said, and Y/N punched his shoulder.

"That's for leaving me here." Y/N seethed, and Han rolled his eyes.

"You would have died out there in your state. I was doing you a favor." He explained, and Y/N pushed Han. It wasn't hard, since she was so weak, but it still angered Han.

"Doing me a favor? I was trying to save him and you stopped me."

"You were going crazy, Y/N! You can't blame me for not taking you." He said, and Y/N frowned.

"I also promised Luke I wouldn't put you in danger if he were to go missing." Han said softly, and Y/N looked to her unconscious lover.

"Why?" She whispered, placing a hand on the tank.

"He loved you, ya know."

"Yeah, I do." Y/N let a tear slip out of her eye, and Han wiped it away.

"He'll be okay." He said, bringing Y/N into a side hug.

"I know, but I just want him to be okay now." She mumbled, placing her other hand on the tank, leaning against it.

"Will you rest now?" Han asked, hoping he'd get to her after that talk.

"I'm okay here." Y/N said, and Han sighed, but left to sleep anyway.

~

"Mistress Y/N?" Y/N woke up to 3PO's voice, and she looked around to realize she was still in the room they were keeping Luke in. She sat up, looking up to see Luke still floating in the tank. "They're taking Master Luke out now." 3PO informed her, and she stood to see Han and Leia also in the room. The droid detached from the tank, and Y/N stood with the others to watch Luke be lifted out of the tank. They set him on a bed, then toweled him down. They put new clothes on him and then whisked him away, Y/N in tow. Leia and Han met her on the way, and the three of them followed the bed until a droid stopped them.

"No humans allowed until Commander Skywalker is awake." The droid said, and Y/N scowled.

"I'm his girlfriend." Y/N explained.

"Doesn't matter. Commander Skywalker needs his rest." The droid responded.

"Well how long is that gonna take?" Han stepped up, defending Y/N.

"A least a few hours."

"What? No, I want to see him now." Y/N said, trying to get past the droid. It didn't budge.

"I'm afraid you can't. Please go to your room, and we will have you notified when he wakes."

"No! I'm going to be with him in there." Y/N tried to push the droid away, but he did nothing.

"Move, you big bag of bolts!" She cried, but the droid did not let her through.

"Y/N, it'll probably be good for you to get some sleep." Leia put a hand on her shoulder, but Y/N shrugged it off.

"I don't want sleep, I want to see him!" She yelled, but the droid still stood in her way. "I swear to the Imperial Army I will rip you apart piece by piece if you don't let me through." Y/N threatened, however the droid seemed uninterested.

"We'll get clearance from the General. This isn't the hill you want to die on." Leia said, and Y/N turned to her. She looked at Leia, and then at Han, and suddenly she deflated.

"I just want to be with him. Make sure he's okay." She said, crying for what seemed like the millionth time. Leia wrapped her up in a hug, and she let out a breath against her.

"He'll be okay. He's in good hands. You should get some rest." Leia pulled away and winked, and Y/N just nodded. It appeared that Leia had a plan, and knowing her it was probably a good one.

"We're terribly sorry about that." 3PO said as they walked away, and once they turned the corner, Leia began to talk.

"We're sneaking you in here tonight." She mumbled, and the group continued walking.

"How?" Y/N asked, looking at Leia, but she was looking straight ahead,

"It's cold enough at night that there aren't many alive rebels that work in the medical wing, and droids are charging." Leia explained, still looking ahead as they began walking.

"I'll come get you from your room in two hours." Leia finished as they came up to Y/N's room. She honestly almost forgot she had her own room, spending so much time in Luke's.

"Thank you." Y/N smiled at them both, hugged Leia and then went to her room.

~

She couldn't sleep. She knew Luke was perfectly fine, but not being able to see and feel him made her on edge. She almost fainted at the knock on her door. Y/N opened it way to eagerly, smiling at Leia.

It was cold in the hallways, since it was night now. Y/N shivered as she walked through the empty space, making her way slowly to where Luke was.

"Do you know which room he's in?" Y/N asked, coming up upon the many doors leading to rooms.

"While you were throwing your tantrum, I was watching to see which room they put him in." Leia smirked, opening the door to her right. Y/N smiled, hugged Leia, and then quickly went into the room.

"Oh, Luke." Y/N mumbled, seeing Luke laying on the bed asleep. His hair covered his closed eyes partially, and his skin was still pale, making his injuries seem worse. She pushed herself onto his bed, laying down next to him. "You dumbass." Y/N whispered, clinging to him. His body was warm, and Y/N kissed his cheek, hand going to rest on his chest and leg wrapped around him.

Finally, finally, she fell into a peaceful sleep.

~

"You're not supposed to be here." Y/N woke to the stupid droids voice, and she sat up.

"I'm sorry." Y/N mumbled, moving from Luke. She looked at him, and he was still sleeping. She felt like she hadn't gotten any sleep, and she realized she hadn't been asleep for long.

"I'm going to ask you to leave, Ma'am." The droid said, and Y/N let a little breath out.

"It's fine, Med. You can go to your next patient." A human said at the door, and Y/N smiled slightly.

"Thank you." She said to the man at the door, who nodded and turned the light off.

~

Lips on hers. That's what she finally woke up to.

Chapped, bruised, swollen lips, but they most definitely belonged to the one and only Luke Skywalker.

Y/N opened her eyes, pushing Luke away lightly. She was still in his bed in the medic wing, and when she sat up, she noticed Han, Leia, Chewy, 3PO and R2 were also in the room. Y/N blushed, and Luke brought her closer.

"What happened?" Y/N asked, and Luke shook his head, cuddling closer to her.

"I got taken by a snow monster, and it was really cold." Luke mumbled, and Y/N rolled her eyes, holding him close as well.

"Well, it seems you two get along very well. When did this happen?" Han asked, and Y/N sunk farther into the bed.

"A lot of things happen behind your back, Han." Luke said smugly, and Y/N smiled.

"It's cute that you think this was behind my back."

"I'm glad you're okay." Y/N said, looking up at Luke and pretending Han hadn't just spoke.

"I am too. I heard you went crazy and threw a tantrum without me." Luke smirked, and Y/N hit his chest, beginning to move away. "It's kinda cute." Luke said, pulling Y/N closer to him.

"You're about to die again, Commander Skywalker." Y/N threatened, and Luke rolled his eyes and brought her close up to him.

"I'm so glad you're not already crazy."

[makeste]

but I just feel too tired to be fighting

this is a follow-up post to what I said in my recap the other day about this arc being the Deku Angst arc, as opposed to the Villain Hunt arc or the Deku SIXQUIRKS Exhibition arc. I feel like the fandom discussion tends to focus on the flashier parts of the chapters -- the sexy villains and the new quirk reveals and the Shindous -- each week, and so the quieter emotional beats sometimes get overlooked, especially since the character arc here is playing out in little bits and pieces over time rather than all at once.

this has always been a very reactionary fandom, and there’s a tendency to judge the chapters week to week without ever going back to look at how they all fit into the big picture. so I figured I would try to attempt that, and basically go chapter by chapter here to look at what exactly Horikoshi is setting up and how it all fits together.

so let’s start with the end of chapter 306, which is when the arc officially kicks off. specifically with the very last page:

this is imo one of the best pages Horikoshi has ever drawn. I got the sense that this was a scene he’d had in his mind’s eye for quite a long time, and that he was excited to finally get to this part of the story. it’s extremely effective as both a chapter-ender, and an arc-opener. like, look at this:

it establishes the initial premise of the new arc -- the world is in chaos, and Deku is now seemingly on his own

it leaves the readers with a number of questions. why did Deku leave U.A.?? is he really on his own now?? why does he look so beat-up and exhausted?? what is he up to?? what is the world like now that all these villains have been unleashed and the heroes have been decimated?? and most importantly of all, what the fuck is going to happen next??

it pays homage to some of Horikoshi’s comic book influences -- Batman in particular

it dramatically hits us with that “THE FINAL ACT BEGINS” and lets us know that shit is getting real now

that’s some good shit. so much so that I think people tended to overlook the other notable thing about this page amidst all of the initial excitement and discussion and speculation about where the series was headed. and that is the fact that the final panel in this chapter is NOT the panel of Deku standing above the city. the very last panel, the one that this chapter actually ends on, is instead the close-up of Deku’s face. his face, which is covered in shadow; and his eyes, which have dark circles under them and are prominently missing the usual flecks of light that give him his signature “sunny optimistic shounen protagonist” look.

not to mention this last line here, which is a call back to the very first time we saw the 14-year-old Deku way back in chapter one.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Horikoshi chose to throw this reference in. nor is it a coincidence that THIS is the scene he actually chose to end the chapter on. what this does is show us the drastic shift in Deku’s emotional state of mind, and his attitude towards being a hero. he’s gone from being thrilled and excited to being jaded and exhausted. he’s matured, but at a great cost. it’s always been his dream to be a hero, but “be careful what you wish for” is a popular adage for a reason. and right now he looks the furthest thing from happy.

and this is the emotional beat that Horikoshi chooses to end the chapter on. this is the panel that closes out the War arc, and begins the final act. to me the message could not be clearer -- this arc will be about the exploration of Deku’s character, and his struggle as he tries to live up to the expectations that have been placed on him as the Last Holder of OFA and quite possibly the World’s Only Hope.

it’s a character arc that builds on a lot of the things we’ve already learned about Deku over the course of the series, such as the fact that he is reckless, and that he focuses on others often at the expense of himself. but more importantly, it’s an arc that finally expands on the dark side of what has up until now been a net positive for Deku -- the power of OFA. up until this point, despite its ups and downs, it’s been a boon for Deku overall and has allowed him to pursue his dream. but now we’re finally reaching the point where the monkey’s paw part of the OFA blessing/curse finally starts to come into play. OFA gives Deku more power than he could have ever dreamed of, but it also comes with a built-in destiny that he can’t opt out of whether he likes it or not. AFO is on the loose and out there trying to destroy the world. and now everyone has pinned their hopes on this sixteen-year-old kid, and the question of whether or not the sixteen-year-old kid is ready is apparently not one that anyone feels inclined to ask (possibly because they’re afraid that the answer might be “no”).

he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. he has to do it, because there’s no one else who can. that’s the kind of pressure that is on Deku now.

and on that note, we begin the Deku Angst arc.

chapter 307

this in hindsight was mostly just a set-up chapter to better establish the current state of the BnHA world at large (spoilers: it’s not good), while also providing an answer for one of the big initial questions of the arc -- namely, “what happened to all of those villains that AFO released from Tartarus?” these are important things to touch on, but the pacing could definitely have been better, and the bulk of the chapter was dedicated to providing fanservice to all of the Shindou fans who spammed the most recent popularity poll (which, whatever lol). anyway, so this was the sole chapter thus far with absolutely no Deku development. thankfully the arc picks up from there.

chapter 308

on to the next one! this was the one and only chapter thus far which I think actually qualifies as an “exhibition fight.” this was definitely all about showing off Deku’s current powerset, as well as introducing us to another of the SIXQUIRKS. however, there was Deku development here as well, most notably in this scene:

this is the scene that got a lot of people speculating that this arc was going to focus on Deku hunting down all of the old villains. but I think people got so caught up in that speculation that they overlooked what this scene tells us about Deku’s mindset. and yes, there is new information being revealed here, and it’s not just a rehash of the stuff we already knew. like yes, we know that Deku was shaken up by the recent encounters with Dabi and Tomura, and we know that made him start questioning why villains become villains in the first place, and all that good stuff, and that’s great. however, there are two additional important things that this scene helps establish for us.

the upcoming battle with TomurAFO is weighing heavily on Deku’s mind. this is something that will become a recurring theme in this arc. Deku is thinking about this constantly. the question of what to do when he finally encounters TomurAFO again is knocking incessantly at the back of his mind, and this won’t be the last time it comes up.

Deku is using these villain encounters as test runs. can Tomura be redeemed?? is he just being stupid and naïve?? or is this really something worth attempting?? the interesting thing about this is that Deku’s resolve to save people is usually so strong and unwavering that it’s more than enough to overcome any doubts that he might have. but this time it seems like the repeated objections posed by the Vestiges and Gran Torino have really gotten to him. it’s possible I’m just reading way too much into things, but to me it really feels like Deku’s recent attempts at Talk no Jutsu were meant to do more than just show his growing awareness that the line between heroes and villains is thinner than he once imagined. they’re also serving as trial runs for the real test, when it finally comes. if he can “save” even a villain like Muscular, there’s hope for him being able to save Tomura as well. and so that moment when Muscular rejects him out of hand is all the more disappointing to him, even if it wasn’t really unexpected. basically it wasn’t the answer that he had been hoping for.

aside from those little notes though, like I said, this was unquestionably an exhibition fight first and foremost. which is fine; we needed to establish where Deku is currently in terms of strength, and it was also just fun to see him kick some ass, ngl. in terms of story purpose this chapter was similar to 219, which showed us how Shouto and Katsuki had powered up after getting their provisional licenses. people who don’t care about those characters might argue that these fights weren’t necessary, but as someone who stans all three characters hard, I would disagree! but anyways, moving on.

chapter 309

in contrast to the previous chapter, this chapter focuses more on establishing Deku’s current mental state, as opposed to his physical state. and this is what we learn:

(1) Deku is ~technically~ being shadowed/accompanied by All Might and the Hawksquad (but in practice he’s avoiding them).

(2) it was Deku’s own decision to leave U.A., and he did it because he didn’t want anyone else getting hurt in order to protect him.

and finally, (3) Deku’s game plan is to stop Tomura and All for One before they reach full power.

this last part is very important, because it means there’s a countdown in effect. as far as Deku is concerned, there’s only a finite amount of time before TomurAFO becomes unstoppable. which means that he’s not only under “gotta get stronger” pressure, but time pressure as well. he doesn’t have the luxury of taking his time and training in safety. he’s being rushed now; this is do-or-die.

this chapter is also the first in this arc in which we get to see Deku’s expressions without the hood covering up his face, and what we see is very telling. as previously stated, the light is gone from Deku’s eyes. he keeps his expressions very neutral, and the only time we even see a hint of a smile is when he hugs his mom in the flashback, and it’s clear from the dialogue (“it’s okay, I’ll come home to you”) that he’s doing it for her sake in order to comfort her.

but aside from that, this is very much not the Deku we’ve grown accustomed to. this is the chapter that really establishes his current mental state imo. above all else, he’s afraid that more people will get hurt because of him, and so he’s distancing himself from everyone around him. and he’s also morbidly preoccupied with the inevitability of having to face TomurAFO again, and soon. the chapter ends on the flashback of Gran giving him his cape, and telling Deku that “killing can be another way to save someone.” there’s a lot on this kid’s mind, to say the least.

chapter 310

this chapter opens with a gang of civilians who are trying to open fire on a nice fox lady whose only crime was walking around in the rain at night. Deku intervenes to save her, and it’s the first time in this arc that we see anything close to the “old” Deku, who just wanted to save people with a smile.

but it’s bittersweet, because all the lady can talk about is how scared she was, and how horrible everything is right now. and so Deku, who feels responsible in a lot of ways for everything that’s happened, just feels that much more pressure to somehow make things right again.

there’s also this extra throwaway line which is especially heartbreaking:

“I can’t afford to be around anyone.” fucking ouch. just reinforcing once more how incredibly isolated Deku is right now -- not by choice, but because he feels like it’s not safe to let anyone else get close to him. and so he’s out here running around this dystopian cityscape in the middle of the night in the pouring rain all on his own, and neglecting himself to the point where All Might practically has to force a bento on him.

but does he complain? of course not. because his focus is never on himself. instead, when he settles down to eat, his thoughts immediately drift back to, guess who...

it’s that time pressure once again. “unless I draw out One for All’s full power, I can’t stop any of this.” it’s just nonstop, I have to get stronger, I’m running out of time, I have to do better, and constantly thinking about that inevitable confrontation.

Deku is a thinker, you guys. and when left to his own devices he will overthink, every time. his mind will run in endless loops while he mentally works his way through all of the possibilities. and that’s one of his greatest strengths, don’t get me wrong, but at a time like this it’s also one of his greatest weaknesses. it’s just so fucking easy for him to get stuck in his own head, in his endless rambling thoughts and analyses. and without anyone else there to help distract him, or help him focus, he’s become fixated on his mission, and it’s slowly consuming him.

this, incidentally, is also the chapter in which we finally see Two and Three’s faces, and learn why Two in particular is so reluctant to lend his power to Deku. he appears to be the lone holdout at this point, so stay tuned on that, because I don’t doubt this will wind up being crucial to Deku’s future development, however it winds up playing out.

chapter 311

this chapter flips back to the Hawksquad for the first half, so we get a brief respite from the ongoing Dekuangst. right before we switch back though, we do get confirmation of something we had pretty much already guessed:

like, that much was already apparent based on what we’d seen (the bags under his eyes; the fact that he refused to sit still in any one place for very long even at night), but it’s always nice to get the official confirmation so that people can’t dispute it lol. so yeah, Deku isn’t sleeping much. and not eating much either, if all he’s getting is the occasional bento from Dadmight. so basically not taking care of himself at all, huge shocker there. but this is something that’s important enough to the story that Horikoshi took the time to point it out in the dialogue, in addition to all of the visual clues we’d already gotten.

and just in case we needed to drive that point in any further, this chapter ends with the appearance of Lady Nagant! like yeah, no shit Deku isn’t getting much sleep, what with him having to fend off racist civilians and hired assassins every five fucking minutes. smdh. can he live??

chapter 312

so this is the chapter that properly introduces Lady Nagant, who maaaay or may not be one of the primary antagonists of this arc?? like, it’s really unclear right now tbh, but she gets hyped up by Hawks and AFO, and has a flashback and a mysterious past and a weird trump card (where did you go, Overhaul) and all that good shit, so yeah? one can hope at any rate.

but anyway. so to his credit, Deku’s first thought is to retreat, but he quickly abandons that plan once he figures out Nagant’s location. this is played off like a logical strategic decision at first, but the subsequent chapter quickly makes it clear that Deku’s decision to take the fight to Nagant is less rational than he might have you think.

chapter 313

so yeah. last but not least, the most recent chapter, in which Deku’s real reason for targeting Lady soon becomes apparent:

what’s more, it quickly becomes clear that he miscalculated and probably would have been better off following Hawks’s advice, seeing as he promptly gets himself shot, and subsequently realizes that AFO gave Nagant an extra quirk, something he hadn’t taken into account. but instead of cutting his losses and running at this point, he doubles down instead and not only breaks out Smokescreen, but also the Third’s quirk which he has never even used before.

it’s worth noting that both En and the Third start telling him to chill at this point, and warn him that what he’s attempting is too dangerous. but tbh if they were expecting him to listen, they haven’t been reading the same arc I’ve been reading. once again, Horikoshi makes it clear that Deku has one thing and one thing only on his mind right now.

of course. once again it all comes back to this. hunt down AFO. it doesn’t matter that he’s exhausted. it doesn’t matter that he’s just been shot twice. it doesn’t matter that Hawks, despite knowing what Deku was capable of with his OFA abilities, specifically warned him away from this one person only. it doesn’t matter that even the Vestiges are trying to tell him you’re going too fast and you’re trying to do too much and it’s too dangerous.

he just doesn’t care. long story short, the only thing that matters to Deku right now is tracking down and defeating TomurAFO. and as the person who knows him best once so aptly put it, “he doesn’t take himself into account.” and therein lies the major challenge of this arc.

and so this is where we’re currently at now. and this has been a very long post, but if nothing else, I hope I was able to get this one point across: there is absolutely no way that Deku will be able to defeat TomurAFO as he is now. not a chance in hell. somehow he’s managed the uncommon feat of waging a war of attrition against himself, which is really quite an accomplishment. he’s not taking care of himself, and he’s refusing to listen to sound advice from the people surrounding him, and is trying to skip ahead to the final boss battle before he’s ready, because the guilt and pressure from feeling responsible for the current situation are eating him up. the only way that the world can go back to normal is if he can defeat AFO; therefore he has to do it as soon as possible, because time is running out and everyone is counting on him. this is who Deku is. and this is what inevitably happens when his saving mentality is taken to extremes, and left unchecked.

anyway so to wrap up this post now, I do think this arc is a lot more cohesive than it’s gotten credit for thus far, and Deku is the glue holding it all together. I for one am loving the exploration of his character and all the subtle little angsty touches as we build up to the big moment, whenever it finally comes. just keep in mind though that if his decisions right now seem reckless and short-sighted, it’s because they’re supposed to seem that way, because Deku is not in a good mental state right now. the cracks are finally showing in our perfect protagonist, just like everyone has been wanting this whole time. he is just a kid. he is doing his best. he is trying far too hard to do his best, and it is hurting him so badly, but he doesn’t even realize. this arc is not an endorsement of the Angsty Nomad Hero lifestyle, lol. it’s the exact fucking opposite, and I think it’s being wildly misinterpreted with all of the emphasis on “oh look at that, he mastered another quirk with no effort”, as opposed to “oh look at that, he is shutting down emotionally and is a few more missed nights of sleep away from a complete and total breakdown.”

tl;dr the overarching storyline of this arc is all about Deku slowly falling apart due to his trauma from Jakku, and the subsequent pressure that was put on him by the Vestiges with their whole “GUESS WHAT, YOU’RE THE LAST USER OF OFA, THAT’S RIGHT, IT’S ALL ON YOU BUDDY” pep talk. and mark my words, things are not going to go according to plan. something is going to go terribly wrong here. whether it’s something happening to All Might, or AFO setting up a trap for him, either way Deku is being set up to fail in a major way. unless of course, someone (or a group of someones) manages to intervene first, and possibly stage an intervention or something. it’s what he needs right now, but idk if Horikoshi is going to make it that easy.

anyway, but in other words, the point of this arc is not to show how much stronger Deku has gotten and how he doesn’t even need his friends anymore. it’s the exact opposite -- the point of this arc is to show that Deku needs his friends now more than ever. that in spite of OFA and all of its mystical trappings and fancy SIXQUIRKS, Deku can’t do this alone. he needs his friends. that’s the core message. and right now, we are at the “I can get by on my own” part of the story. and the part we are all waiting for, but which is coming -- I guarantee it is coming, you guys -- is “the thing is, you don’t have to.”

and that shit is going to slap hard you guys. and I for one can’t wait. but until then, enjoy the angst.

[ynscrazylife]

i’m a simple gal...... i like seeing natasha being overprotective and a little homicidal SO could i please request some cute mentor!almost itherlynat x reader? maybe reader gets badly hurt during training or someone on the team hurts her feelings? mamabear stabs? 🥺

More Than A Mentor | n.r fluff fic

Summary: After an accident, Y/N realizes her and Natasha’s relationship goes beyond mentor and mentee.

Authors Note: Thank you for requesting! I’ve missed writing Marvel/Natasha.

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 | Main Masterlist

Request to be on a Taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/marvelocks

Natasha was not an easy mentor, and Y/N learned that quickly. She was understanding and patient, yes, but she also knew when to push Y/N and went to be a little stricter. 

The thing was, Y/N was never completely sure what side she’d get of her mentor at what time - though she found herself not having to worry about it after . . . The Accident. 

That disastrous day would go down in the team’s history, yet no one liked to talk about it. It was a day Y/N would never forget: it changed . . . everything.

It was one of the rare days that Y/N wasn’t training with Natasha. She had a meeting with Fury so Steve filled in for her. Y/N was not accustomed to training with a super soldier, and had to quickly adjust (it didn’t make it any easier that he had his shield, too). 

She was doing well - at least, she wanted to think that she was - and so far had deflected almost every punch from Steve, managing to get one or two punches against him herself. 

Nonetheless, the air was knocked out of her when Steve slammed her against the mat. She grunted, angry only fueling the pain when she saw that stupid smirk on his face, and used that to her advantage; he wouldn’t expect her to recover so quickly (and in truth, neither did she) but she did it anyway, throwing all her weight against the Captain. She secured he legs around his waist like Natasha taught her and, using the strength in her legs and pushing his broad shoulders, just about managed to get herself out from being pinned on the mat. Now, though, they were both sorta sitting on the mat, so Y/N kneed him in the chest, pushing him down. 

“You’re good,” he whispered, just slightly out of breath, before he - seemingly without using any strength at all - threw her to the side where she rolled. 

Y/N cursed under her breath, getting her feet. It was impossible to win against a super-soldier! Think, Y/N, think, what did Natasha teach you? Cmon! 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve grabbing his shield, and got in a stance to either catch it or evade it - she hadn't decided yet - when yells distracted her. In her hyped up, adrenaline-pumped state, the first thing that came to Y/N’s mind was that someone was hurt. She was about to call of the training when a large, solid force smacked into her stomach, sending her flying into the air where she hit the wall, losing consciousness. 

Steve's eyes widened, not thinking it’d actually hit her, and jumped into action. “Who the hell screamed?” The blonde yelled as he ran to his fallen teammate. He carefully turned her on her back and looked her over for injuries, seeing bruises and bleeding starting to form on her stomach and ankle and her head bleeding. 

Bucky and Sam practically crashed inside the room, trying to beat each other. 

“He threatened me!” Sam exclaimed. 

“He tried to steal my metal arm!” Bucky defended. 

Both men came to a screeching halt when they digested the scene, though. Steve rolled his eyes at his idiotic friends and tried to put pressure on Y/N’s head wound. “Sam, get Bruce, please. Tell him to prepare med - and Bucky, get Natasha. She’ll want to be here,” he ordered, and the men nodded, guilty. 

Steve carefully picked Y/N up in his arms and hoisted her into the air, carrying her to med where Bruce and Helen were, Sam explaining the situation to them. Instantly, Helen jumped into action. She instructed Steve to lay Y/N down on one of the med’s beds and then ushered the men out of the room, where she then began grabbing various medical things and assessing Y/N’s injuries, instructing Bruce to hook her up to an IV.

Steve and Sam stood outside, not saying a word to each other, both pacing back and forth. They did not have to be silent for long, though, because pounding footsteps soon approached and the men looked up to see a very furious Natasha with Bucky trailing behind her. 

The redhead’s eyes fell onto the closed med doors and huffed, turning back to Steve. “I leave her with you for training one day and she gets hurt?!” She demanded, crossing her arms and glaring at him. 

Steve swallowed. “Nat, I-” He began to say, but was cut off. 

“What happened?” Natasha asked. 

Steve glanced up at her, first irritated when she asked him a question and then interrupted him whilst he was answering, but backed off when he saw the urgency, the nervousness in her eyes; she was scared. Scared that Y/N was really hurt and guilty. 

“We were training. I threw my shield at her, expecting her to catch it or duck . . . But Sam and Buck distracted her and it hit her,” he said, not wanting to throw his friends under the bus but also knowing he had to be truthful.

Natasha stood in place, processing the information. She took a breath, and had almost completely calmed down when Bucky decided to open his mouth.

“Y’know, if anything we tested her. What if someone yelled during a mission? Is she gonna get distracted then?” He mumbled, not really meaning it but wanting to spare him and Sam Natasha’s wrath.

Karma’s a bitch, though, because it did the exact opposite.

If you blinked you’d miss it: Natasha swiftly turned and pushed Bucky against the wall, pinning him there with his hands above his hand.

“Don’t you dare start blaming this on Y/N, you hear me?” She said in a low tone, glaring.

Bucky quickly nodded and Natasha released him. When she did, the door opened and Helen appeared.

“She’ll be okay—” Helen began, and Natasha let out a breath of relief, “—but she does need to be off training for at least a month. She has a concussion, broken ankle, and . . . the shield sort of stabbed her in her stomach.”

It took a couple moments for all four to digest this. Steve paled and Natasha’s crossed arms for tighter as she bit her lip. “Can I see her?” She asked.

“She’s still unconscious, but yes,” Helen answered, nodding.

Natasha almost failed to contain the gasp lurching to leave her throat when she saw Y/N, all bandaged up. The spy gulped and sat down beside her, not knowing what else to do other than sit there, and had no clue what she’d say when Y/N woke up because she sure as hell wasn’t leaving her. Thankfully, Natasha had some time to think it out.

Almost a day later and Natasha hadn’t left — Clint had convinced her to go sleep and eat for a couple hours, but that was it — and now, Y/N woke up.

“Ms. Romanoff?” Y/N murmured in a haze of confusion, squinting her eyes to see her mentor curled up in a chair, reading a big book.

Natasha snapped her head up and immediately sat forward, a smile covering her face. “Y/N! You’re awake? How are you feeling? And how many times have I told you to call me ‘Natasha’?”

Y/N blushed but nodded. “I’m fine, probably the painkillers’ doing though . . . How long was I out?” She said.

“Around a day,” Natasha answered.

“Did you . . . Did you stay here?” Y/N asked again, a little smaller this time, playing with her blanket.

“Most of it, yeah,” Natasha murmured, relaxing into the chair.

“Really? You’re-you’re not mad?” Y/N said, eyes wide and jaw dropped in surprised.

Natasha scrunched her face up. “What? No — of course I’m not mad! You’re like my daughter! How could I be—?”

Natasha was cut off by Y/N’s loud, yet thankful gasp. The teenager sat up and wrapped her arms around Natasha and, after a moment, Natasha smiled and wrapped her arms around her too.

Y/N truly was like her daughter, and mothers were always protective over their children.

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[pastelwitchling]

Michael wants to know why Alex trusted Ramos.

Michael glanced over at Alex in the passenger seat, his chin rested on his palm. His lower lip was cut, his fingers and forearms were sliced into, there was a gash along his cheek, and a bruise just under one eye.

Michael’s hands tightened on the steering wheel the longer he looked at Alex, anger boiling just below the surface of his skin, mingling with an explosive power he was barely managing to keep at bay. They had just dropped Kyle off at the hospital with Liz after Alex had almost singlehandedly saved him from an impenetrable facility.

“I knew you’d be the one to save me,” Kyle had murmured with barely contained relief against Alex’s shoulder as he and Michael helped him into the car. Yet Alex had refused to get checked himself, explaining instead how he had been recruited into Deep Sky after Forrest had explicitly warned him against it.

“It was just something I had to do,” he’d said, and nothing else. Like Michael wasn’t worth the self-defense, the explanation. He’d been silent since, only speaking a few words of encouragement and comfort to Kyle as he’d left them, with an embrace and a promise to come back tomorrow to check in on him.

Alex sat still now, his brows pinched like he was studying a code that only he could see, his lips pursed, his free thumb scratching into his index finger. It was like he couldn’t even see Michael.

“You don’t have to worry,” Michael told him, if only to see his reaction. “Ramos is locked up in one of his own cells. We’ll get the Scooby gang together and figure out what to do with him tomorrow.”

Alex only hummed.

A moment, then, “You’ve been awfully quiet since we got Kyle to the hospital. You gonna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

Alex shut his eyes, like Michael’s voice bothered him. “Guerin, please,” he said, not without a little edge. “Just give me a minute.”

Michael nodded once, slowly, his jaw clenched. “Mmm.”

A minute turned into ten, when they finally pulled into Alex’s driveway and Alex went to open the door with a distracted “Thanks.” He pulled at the handle, and the door was locked. “Guerin, the door –”

“Yeah, I know,” Michael said, turning in his seat to face him. “Talk to me, Private.”

His shoulders slumped, exasperated. “Oh come on, not now.”

“Yes now,” he said with an edge of his own. “He was holding a gun to your chest. Now, Alex.”

“I’m fine,” Alex insisted, “and I don’t want to talk about it.” He tried the handle again, and again it wouldn’t give. “Open the damn door, Guerin!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Michael demanded. “And don’t give me the ‘secrecy is the price of admission’ crap that Long gave you. After everything, if you really think I’ll believe that some secret club rule would be enough to keep your mouth shut, then –”

“I get it, okay?” he snapped. “I was wrong, you were right. Again! Can you please just give it a rest?!”

Michael faltered, distracted, and Alex took the chance to open the car door. He stepped out, limping up to his porch and Michael followed.

“Hey!” he stormed after him and grabbed his arm, turning him around. “We’re not doing this,” he demanded, forcing his voice low but no less venomous. “You’re not running away from me just because it’s getting hard!”

“Don’t do that,” Alex said through grit teeth. “Don’t cling to the person I was when I was seventeen, Guerin! I’ve grown up, I’ve stuck around, you’re the one that chose someone else, so don’t blame me for who I was just because of your own guilt!”

He yanked his arm back and turned around. Michael followed him inside. “Why’d you trust him?” he demanded, his anger rising with something else, something pleading and desperate and raw. “Why’d you trust him?”

Why him and not me?

Alex had always managed to hear through his anger to the pain beneath, the hurt. This time, it seemed, he’d been wounded too deeply to see past his own misery.

“Fine!” he whipped around. “I get it, okay? I’m stupid, I’m stupid for trusting someone else that I shouldn’t have trusted! Flint, my dad, Forrest, Ramos – I’m an idiot! I should know better by now, but I guess I don’t!”

Michael watched, startled and hurt, as Alex paced his living room, his fists pressed to his temples. “He told me I wasn’t my father,” he rambled, looking for once in his life so lost that Michael didn’t know what to say or how to fix it. “He told me I was – I was different, that I was good, and I believed him, and I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry, okay? Kyle almost died because of me and you were in danger and I had to push you away, and I’m so, so sorry!”

“Hey, hey,” Michael pulled Alex in against him, but Alex was shaking. “Alex, c-calm down.”

Alex inhaled a shuddering breath, his body tense and his hands trembling on Michael’s waist, clutching fistfuls of his shirt desperately as if terrified that he would fall apart if he let go.

Then in a cracking voice, he whispered, “I just wanted a family that – that wanted me,” and any remnants of Michael’s anger and fear fell away at once. His eyes fell shut and he held Alex closer, putting a hand in his hair, his arm around his waist tight.

“Okay,” he murmured, and pressed his face to the crook of Alex’s neck. “Okay, Alex, it’s okay. Breathe.”

“I thought I was doing good,” Alex whimpered, and Michael felt tears against shoulder. His heart shattered and he held Alex tighter. “I thought I was better than them.”

“Shh,” Michael pressed a soft kiss to Alex’s neck, his shoulder. “Just breathe, baby. You’re safe now. I’m here, you’re safe.”

Alex pressed his trembling lips to Michael’s shoulder to still them, and Michael exhaled with an open mouth against Alex’s skin. He dug his fingers deeper into Alex’s hair, reveling in the soft strands between his fingers, assuring him that Alex was here, safe and sound, in his arms.

Michael held him as he silently cried, held him until exhaustion took over and he fell asleep on the couch, his head on Michael’s lap. Then Michael took to looking for the first aid kit and cleaning Alex’s wounds. A horrifying thought came as he carefully took care to his cuts and the gash in his cheek. That Alex had not wanted his injuries tended to because he wanted to feel the pain. Because he thought he’d deserved it.

Michael pushed the ugly thought aside and pressed a gentle kiss to Alex’s bruise before he laid a small bag of ice across it. Alex must’ve been far more exhausted than he let on because he only whimpered at the sting, but did not wake.

While Alex slept, Michael felt like he was on autopilot. He took off Alex’s prosthetic, pulled a blanket from a closet and covered him, and went to make a big lunch as he knew Alex had probably not eaten properly either in too long.

All the while, his mind replayed past conversations he’d had with Alex, things he’d said and done since Forrest had left town.

I didn’t say I wasn’t going to do anything. I just don’t want you anywhere near whatever it is I decide to do.

He hadn’t been able to understand what Alex had meant, why he was keeping the information to himself. Now he realized it was because he’d had his own suspicions all along. He’d discovered the person he trusted had betrayed him, and he hadn’t wanted Michael in any danger. He hadn’t wanted his own pain on display, not even to the man he loved.

So he’d fought the battle himself. Like always.

“You’re still here,” Alex’s brows were furrowed with something like surprise as he stood in the kitchen doorway, on his crutches.

Michael shrugged a shoulder and offered half a smile. “Food’s ready. Hungry?”

“Uh –” Alex started, but his growling stomach was answer enough. A small, genuine smile came to Michael’s lips and he held out a hand to help Alex sit down, but he was already taking a stool. He was good at proving that he didn’t need anyone.

Michael looked down a moment, then filled a bowl for him. He sat down next to Alex as he ate, watching the way he gulped down the soup in minutes, too hungry to do anything else. When he was done, Michael was already pushing his own bowl towards him.

“Thanks,” he murmured, grabbing another spoonful when Michael reached out and brushed his hair back behind his ear. Alex tensed.

His words still echoed in Michael’s ears above all else. I just wanted a family that wanted me.

Michael said, “I want you.”

Once again, Alex seemed to read his words for the truth they were. His shoulders slumped. “I know.”

He sniffled, “I’m so sick of you jumping into the line of fire for me.”

Ale sighed, like he’d been expecting this. He returned to his food. “I don’t mind.”

“You should.”

“It’s you,” he said roughly, as if that was reason enough to get himself shot at.

“I’m not special.”

“You are to me.”

“And you’re everything to me,” Michael argued. Alex seemed at a loss. “If anything ever happened to you . . .” He shook his head, unable to even finish the thought. “You said you’d burn the world down. I’d make it beg for the flames.”

Alex searched his face. He seemed to realize that Michael was more serious than he’d ever been before because he slowly took his hand and kissed his knuckles.

He held Michael’s gaze steadily, his dark eyes calming Michael’s racing heart like nothing else could. Now he was the one holding on as Michael fell apart. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Michael nodded, brushing Alex’s chin with his thumb. When he felt like he could speak again, he said, “Me, too.”

I finally got around to writing this! Yaaay!

[ohsalome]

I hope I’m not bothering you by asking (i saw you receive a previous ask about it), but I was wondering why is it that the narrative around caucasian (especially chechnyan) people being called terrorists is so easily accepted by tankies; like i know the reason “why” (because America Bad™ is all those idiots repeat ad nauseam) but not the “how.” There’s a lot of information regarding muslims and arabs and people know how that is often framed to justify american and general western violence against them; but there’s not a lot of info about chechnyans that hasn’t been filtered through a russian lens and a lot of people seem to be perfectly fine with that. How on earth did that happen?

I think you've answered your question already - prejudice against foreigners (especially Muslims) + distrust of the mainstream western media + lack of info that hasn't been filtered through a russian lens. But I will try to add more details.

(full disclaimer I was a small bebé during these times so everything I know I have learned many years after these events have occurred)

I. During the First Chechen War, russia has not yet established itself as a media monopolist, which has led to them losing the informational war. A lot of journalists, including the russian ones, had covered the events on the Chechens' side. In both russian and western media, there were two narratives - about the russian government fighting terrorism, but also about the Chechens fighting for independence. Russia has learned from its mistakes, and by the time of the Second Chechen War, it went full-on with the informational war. They have established the russian Informational Centre to coordinate the media coverage of the conflict. Just before the invasion, the russian government committed several terrorist attacks in moscow, volgodonsk and makhachkala and blamed them on the "terrorists" to get an official justification for the invasion & to get the support of the population. They have also had an unprecedented xenophobic campaign in the media. This time, any journalist who wanted to cover the war had to be accredited by the russian government, which meant that only those who agreed to promote their version of the events were allowed in. This included the foreign parites, e.g. abc got banned from entering Chechnya. This gave russia a full control of the narrative.

Add to these circumstances the fact that we are talking about times preceding wide internet access. We can see today how differently the russian army acts when their actions can be caught on camera vs when they have the protection of the informational void. Without access to unbiased outlets, the Chechen side of the war was slienced. As a result, the narrative of "bloodthirsty barbaric terrorists that russia just had to destroy for their own protection" became the only one.

The current clan ruling the region (infamous kadyrovtsy), are de-facto collaborators of the russian regime.

The reaction of the west, typically, was weak and unimpactful. PACE has issued two recommendations that justified russia’s actions in the Chechen Republic. In 2000 they revoked the russian delegation’s voting rights, but completely reverted them within a year. OSCE mission had worked for a year and then got kicked out.

A sidenote: I asked my mom about her memories of that time. She lived in Taganrog (southwestern russia), which had a significant population of caucasian people - approx. 60% of her colleagues were from that region. According to her, people believed caucasians instead of russian media. I can't say for sure if it was the same or different in other regions, but my educated guess would be that more monogenous and marginalised regions would be more likely to belive the official narrative. 

II. Like you've mentioned, it is a well-known fact in the leftist circles that Muslim people are often framed to be terrorists to justify violence against them; and, therefore, we have a kind of expectation that people who support these ideals would not fall for islamophobic propaganda as easily. Unfortunately, the psychological aspect says that our awareness of prejudices does not always help us overcome them. In psychology, there is a distinction between two types of biases - explicit and implicit ones. Explicit biases are those presented by open racists. Implicit biases can be carried by people who are outwardly non-xenophobic and can even be a part of the social justice movement. However, unconscious prejudices can still influence their attitudes and behaviour. In this case, it would mean that they would be more likely to believe that Chechens were terrorists and russia's actions were justified. 

III. If we are talking about tankies specifically, they have a long-standing bromance with the russian state-sponsored media. From what I've read, it dates back to the times of the "Occupy Wall Street" movement. Russia Today (RT) channel, created after the failure of the informational war in Chechnya, has given voices to the most fringe leftist organisations that weren't taken seriously by the more established media outlets. Later the relationship was strengthened during the Snowden and Assange events. RT has gained the tankies' trust by giving them a free platform, and through this trust, they have started feeding them any narrative kremlin wanted - about Chechnya, Libia, Syria, Ukraine or any other country. 

And this does not even touch the fact that kremlin has been founding many far-left and far-right european & american parties and think tanks for years.

Hope this helps)

[demonsandmischief]

You Saved My Life

Marvel - Captain America Imagine

Steve Rogers x Female Reader, 1.7k Words

-You Saved My Life-

Imagine you save Captain America's life while he is trying to save yours.

A/N: I dunno when this would take place in the Marvel world. I guess you could say it's my own AU. It's a long one but I like it. I hope you do too.

----

There are a lot of things life prepares you for, but the end of the world is not one of them.

You were covering your best friend's shift at a cafe that she owned. You had a full time job as a teacher, but the school was on a holiday, and you were always willing to help your friend. Normally, she'd have managers do the day to day runnings, but there was a scheduling conflict that lined up perfectly with your free day.

You did love the little place. It was small and home-y, nestled between some larger buildings of the city.

It was after the lunch rush when it happened. You were wiping down menus when a large blast that felt like an earthquake rattled the whole shop. The glass door shattered with the impact.

That's when the screaming started. It was loud and chaotic, as throngs of people ran away from whatever had just exploded.

The customers that were in the cafe rushed out in a panic. They could see something out of the large windows that you couldn't from behind the counter.

You moved closer, hesitantly, not sure what to expect, and you were definitely not prepared.

There were large, robotic creatures wreaking havoc in every direction. You could hear their banshee like screeches that echoed in your ears, but it couldn't be louder than the intense blood rushing as your adrenaline began to flow.

Your protective, teacher instincts kicked in when you saw the young group of kids huddled in the alleyway. They were almost out of view, but you noticed. You always noticed the children. They attracted your energy naturally.

You took notice of the daycare bus still running. It looked like the driver had just abandoned them. Intense anger only fueled the instincts.

You saw the way one of the creatures eyed the group and you scrambled to grab something to defend them.

You didn't have much. You decided on a chair, thankful for your nimble frame that was able to get outside unnoticed.

The kids caught sight of you immediately, but you held a shaky finger to your lips, telling them to be quiet.

You swung the chair with all your might, hitting the thing with a sickening crunch. It faltered for a moment, stumbling forward. You were left with pieces of broken wood, the splintered edges digging into your skin.

"Get inside," you yelled to the group, watching them scramble. At least the robot thing was focused on you, and you prayed that each little boy and each little girl made it home tonight.

You knew you were the only person standing between the cafe and the monster, and you wouldn't go with them to safety for risk of this thing following you into the shop.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as your eyes searched for any kind of defense. Instead, you found more creatures and no help.

This thing was ugly up close. It was metallic like a robot, but had blood red eyes, eyes that were staring right at you.

It opened it's mouth to screech into the sky, a snake like tongue curling out. It was cut off by a flash of color in the haze of dirt and debris, but you recognized it immediately. Captain America's shield.

The man himself appeared, standing tall and proud, but you could tell he was winded. You had never been so relieved, as you relaxed a bit, just wanting to melt into the ground with exhaustion.

Steve yanked out his shield, giving it an expert throw, destroying the other visible creatures.

His blue eyes stood out beneath his cowl.

"Ma'am," he nodded. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," you whispered with a shake of your head, wiping your sweaty, bloody hands on your jeans. "But there's kids in there "

He nodded, repeating the information into his com device.

"We'll get them to safety, and you, too. This is no place you want to be. Every civilian has taken shelter in the metro underground. Do you know how to get there from here?"

"Yes, but it's like two blocks," you said. There was no way you could get the kids there without being noticed.

"I'll go with you then, but we need to move quickly. Let's go." He left no room for argument, so you entered the cafe to gather the huddled group.

Their fear struck you, wide eyes and silent sobs. There were probably twenty of them, all different ages. The youngest was probably about six.

"Captain America is going to get you guys somewhere safe," you told them, as reassuring as possible, even though you didn't feel that way.

You led the group as the captain guarded the back. The pace was quick, and eerily quiet. You imagined the tall man had warned the other Avengers to keep the area as clear as possible. You had caught a brief glimmer of Iron Man's metallic suit in the sky.

You had just ushered the kids down the stalled escalator and into safety when you heard a grunt of pain.

You turned to find six more of the robotic creatures surrounding Cap. You could tell he was wearing down as one of them pulled his arms back, rendering him powerless and unable to grab his shield. He kicked the things with all his might, but there were too many of them.

You didn't know what to do. You were exhausted and there was no way you could help. You couldn't even take out one by yourself with a chair.

It wasn't until one of the creatures pulled out a long dagger looking thing, already dripping with someone else's blood that you moved.

Your instincts didn't let you hesitate as you ran to tackle the thing, the knife in turn digging painfully in your upper shoulder, dangerously close to your neck.

You felt the cry leave your dry, cracked lips as you crumbled to the ground, squeezing your eyes shut.

You heard the creature snarl at you before you felt a jolt of hot pain in your ribs. It felt like a boot, but who knows.

Your vision doubled as you saw the metallic shield take out the group once more. You sagged in the rubble as the adrenaline left your body. It felt like buckets of blood were running from your shoulder down the curve of your breast, mixing with the pain in your ribs. You were certain death couldn't be much worse then this.

Steve couldn't believe you saved his life. He was foolish to let his guard down, but you were a distraction. You protected those kids with a fearlessness that reminded him of himself.

He heard over coms that Tony had found the source for these creatures and the fight was coming to a close. He wished he could have been there for his team, but the people came first, especially those kids.

He pressed a hand to your shoulder, cursing when he saw how much blood you were losing. He searched aimlessly for something to stop the blood.

"Your six, Captain," you manage to mutter throught the pain, not failing to notice the final of the robotic things sneaking up on the distracted man.

He kicked a stray car door effortlessly, squashing the creature against the brick building.

"We're going to get you help. You're going to be okay."

That was the last thing you heard before you passed out.

----

There was a pesky beeping that was disturbing your rest. You assumed it was your alarm, until the pain hit you full force, and you remembered the events that took place. Were you dead?

Your eyes opened, and you groaned at the harsh light, blinking rapidly to adjust. Your mouth felt like it was full of sand.

The sterile smell and blinding white walls immediately told you it was a hospital, but what stood out was the dozing man still dirty from battle. His blue suit stood out against the white.

His eyes opened when you stirred, and you noticed the blue eyes that you were beginning to like. His blonde hair was matted from the cowl, and he looked terribly uncomfortable in the small chair.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his deep voice much softer than the commanding tone he used as captain.

You struggled to sit up. The pain in your shoulder not allowed you to use your hand as leverage, and your ribs didn't like the jostle.

"Don't do that," he said, lightly using his hand to keep you from moving. He pushed the button on the side that allowed the bed to lift without you having to change position.

He helped you drink some water before you were finally able to respond.

"How long have I been out?" you ask.

"Just a few hours," Steve responded. "You saved my life, and those kids, too." He shook his head in disbelief.

You felt your face grow hot at his words, not knowing how to respond. "I'm sure you are exhausted. You didn't have to stay."

"I had to make sure you were okay," he admitted. "I'm Steve."

"Y/N." You tried to smile at his cute pleasantries, but winced at the persistent throbbing in your shoulder. "Is it bad?"

"I'm sure a tough girl like you can handle it. The doctor should be in here in a minute to tell you details," he answered.

The doctor told you that your ribs were broken and your stab wound was deep but no longer life threatening after they stopped the blood. It was going to take a while to recover.

You dozed off, and it must have been a long time because when you awoke the second time, the room was covered in flowers. A stack of cards sat on your table, and you rose the bed again to reach for them.

A swell of happy emotions built up inside of you as you read the sweet words of the kids you saved. It was so relieving to know they were okay.

"You're a hero," Steve said from the door, this time in jeans and a blue jacket. He was handsome.

You wiped the fallen tears off of your cheek. "I'm nothing but a teacher."

"You're a hero to me," he smiled slightly, and a warm feeling bloomed in your chest.

----

Here's Pt. 2