#its too hard and takes too long to articulate what i wanna say

[jefferythejelly]

having opinions in this fandom but not saying any of them

[activesplooger]

ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴏᴜʀ | ᴠᴏx x ᴀꜱꜱɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Notes: (MDNI) SORRY ITS ALMOST BEEN A MONTH I'VE BEEN BUSYYY. feedback is greatly appreciated!

Summary: Confronting Vox and attending a meeting! CW: Angst, platonic heartbreak, fluff, reference to pt. 3 paragraph 2 (hint hint). Word Count: 2,626

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterpost!

The room fell dead silent. Vox sat in his chair looking unamused and bored as he waited for you to speak. A hint of dread in his eyes, like he knew this was coming. You open your mouth to speak, yet, no words come out. It's hard to articulate everything you need to say along with how you should even start a conversation like this.

All these years of anger and a hankering for confrontation. Yet, here you are, the opportunity laid out in front of you and all you can do is stare in silence.

Vox exhales roughly in impatience, "Are you gonna talk or-". "What's wrong with you?" you blurt out. Yeah... That was definitely not the right way to start this conversation.

Vox quirks an eyebrow and glances at one of his monitors displaying the time, "Can you speed this up?" he huffs dismissively, "I have things to do.". At that moment, his audacity led you to find the words to speak, "No! I can't!" you step closer, waving a pointed finger at him sternly, as if you were a mother scolding a child, "I have waited far too long for you to just disregard this as if it's some type of chore! Now, you are gonna sit there and listen while I talk!." Vox's eyes widen as he straightens out his posture. Surprisingly, your little rant seemed to catch his attention. Taking a deep breath, you begin to speak calmly, "Look, ever since that day- the one with the whole Alastor thing- you've been... different, to say the least. Meaner, colder-". "Like I wasn't those things before then." he chimes in defensively. "Don't interrupt!" you begin, "And, you know what I mean... Even if you weren't the greatest person before, it got way worse after... It wasn't just that either... You're more distant now... and cruel..." "Well, what am I supposed to do about it? You think I'm gonna do a 180 just because you 'called me out'?" Vox laughs bitterly, "Nice try, sweetheart, I've come up with worse things to say about myself." Your face contorts to one of confusion and concern. Did he just openly admit to self-loathing? And brag about it?! This was gonna be a long talk... "Was that supposed to be a flex? You know what, that's beside the point," you say.

"Then what is the point?!". he says exasperated.

"The point is that ever since your fight with Alastor you've been a major shithead!" You snap, narrowed angry eyes meeting his red ones. "So what?!" Vox pushes on the arms of his chair as he gets up, a frustrated scowl etched across his features. "So? SO?!" your eyes bore into him with a fierce glare, stepping closer until you're less than a foot apart from him, "So I wanna know what happened! I wanna know what Alastor did to make you such an INSUFFERABLE PRICK.". Vox looks at you as if you had said the most offensive thing imaginable, "I'm the bad guy? I'M THE FUCKING BAD GUY? No, you don't get to do this. You don't KNOW me. You don't know what happened that day!". "Then tell me!" you plead sharply. Vox's voice glitches as he speaks, "₦Ø!".

"Why?" you ask, pretty much at the end of your rope," you can't put all these walls up and act like a douche for some big ominous reason only to shut people out when they ask!". "You don't know what you're talking about!" he dismissively replies. Letting out a sharp huff, you repeat, "For the love of Lucifer- Then fucking tell me!"

"I CAN'T" he yells, breathing heavily before speaking in a softer tone, "I can't... you don't know how badly he fucking hurt-" a voice crack cuts him off. Bringing a large hand to cover his mouth, he swiftly walks past you to avoid you seeing him. You weren't certain, but you could've sworn you saw his eyes water... Turning your body to face him, you watch as he walks to the edge of the platform and sits, legs dangling off the edge just above the water. He watches the sharks swimming below him, taking a deep breath before he murmurs, "Just- Drop it. Okay?". Ugh. You hated that you felt bad for the fucker. You shouldn't feel bad, you had every right to leave him here wallowing in self-pity. But, you didn't. Despite everything, you just couldn't leave it there... You kept telling yourself that you just wanted to yell and make him feel horrible for everything he did but, in reality, you wanted him to go back to normal. At this point, you wonder if he can be normal anymore... Still, there was no harm in trying... Curse you and your savior complex.

Before you can second guess yourself, you walk over and sit beside him. Your hand reaches out and hovers over his shoulder hesitantly. After a brief moment of contemplation, you shake your head and rest your hand back down beside you.

"I really loved him, you know..." Vox quietly admits. Eyes widening to the size of bowling balls, your head sharply turns to face him. Vox looks back at you and groans, "Not like that!". You let out a soft "oh" in response, your expression relaxing as you turn to look back out at the vast array of sharks.

A sharp exhale leaves Vox's lips, "What I meant was that he was my best friend... I told him everything, trusted him, loved him... I loved him more than I've ever loved anyone or anything in my life.". You nod and gaze sympathetically at him as he explains. "I was too blinded by this idea that Alastor could never hurt me to realize that the whole thing was completely one-sided. I told him everything, but I was too dense to realize that he didn't tell me ŞⱧł₮! That smiling bastard just wanted me to spill my guts so at the right moment, he could use it against me... and he did..." "Oh," you start, "so that night is when he-" "Yeah.". Vox rests his elbows on his knees, hunching over and resting his head in his hands, "I invited him over to join the Vees and- fuck.". As he cusses, his voice croaks, and tears well up in his eyes once more. "And," he proceeds, "he denied me. When I got mad and asked him why he said, "Why would I ever want to do something so frivolous as working with a vain incompetent TV? I know you Vox. And this isn't what you think it is."". You speak, a bit astonished, "Shit... And that's all because he didn't like your business proposal?" "Yeah, I mean, I didn't react calmly to his rejection by any means but still. Nothing warranted that kind of reaction... Anyway, then we got into an argument. I said horrible things I didn't mean, and he said even worse things that he did mean... As a last resort, I tried hypnotizing him, I was just so desperate, I couldn't believe what he was saying to me... And that didn't go over well since he beat the shit out of me after..." As he explains, the pieces of information start clicking together in your head, "Oh yeah... and that's when I found you-" "Yep. That's when you found me."

…

A familiar silence fills the air after Vox stops explaining. His expression is thoughtful as he looks down at the sharks below him, as if he’s debating on whether or not to break the silence.

Your eyes are fixed on him as he looks out, unable to look away. Before, you saw him as this powerful, callous, sadistic overlord… But now, all you see is a broken sinner. A tired defeated sinner. Just like everyone else in Hell. Just like you.

A few minutes of silence roll by, the only sounds being the buzzing of monitors and the occasional quiet splash of water. Vox takes a deep breath, “I almost died that day… That is if you hadn’t saved me.”. Not knowing how to respond, you stayed quiet.

He turns to meet your gaze, “I never thanked you.”.

“You did not.” you respond matter-of-factly, with a hint of bitterness in your tone.

Vox’s eyes meet yours with sincerity, “Well, thank you.”

A soft smile grows on your lips, “You’re welcome.”

Looking back out at the water, he apologizes, ”-And sorry.”. Your eyebrows furrow, “For?-“.

“For being an asshole,” he states flatly. "Oh yeah..." you reply with a casual tone. Vox looks at you with an almost-offended look. "No hesitation, really? No, "Mr. Vox you could never be an asshole!"", he says half-jokingly. You chuckle and roll your eyes, "No way in here would I ever say that.". The two of you share a short-lived bittersweet laugh before Vox's tone grows serious again, "Seriously though, you didn't deserve that... no one did...". You sharply exhale, not saying anything in return. He was right. He was an asshole and he wasn't off the hook for it because he had some backstory to prove it. You felt bad for him, but it felt worse to be mistreated and see others be mistreated by him.

"Earlier, when you said I grew distant... You're right, I was- or, am," he affirms... "I know," you respond, not making eye contact with him anymore as your mind races with thoughts of his maltreatment. "Yes, but do you know why?". This seems to snap you out of your thoughts. Your mind is screaming 'YES', however, you keep it casual and nod slowly.

Vox takes a deep breath, "I stopped being friends with you and well everyone because I don't want another Alastor in my life...".

"What about Val and Vel?" you inquire.

"That's different" he shifts over, swinging his legs over the edge and onto the platform, sitting crisscrossed in front of you, "Val and Vel are... business partners. I only really keep them around for appearances.".

"How charming," you say sarcastically.

"I just thought you should know," he says softly, eyes never leaving yours, "I didn't want to hurt myself again, so I distanced myself and didn't give anyone a reason to like me.". Fuck. You wanted to just forget everything and go back to normal, but you know that can't happen. After all, these are just meaningless words. He hasn't even promised to get better or at least try to! You need time to process everything and he needed time to get his shit together. Not everything could be fixed in this one moment, and you both knew that.

Silence fills the room once more, there's nothing left to say now that everything is out in the open. 'It's not your job to fix him' keeps repeating in your head, as if to convince yourself of it. His eyes stay fixed on you with a slight frown on his face. Maybe you should go.

Pushing off the floor to get up, a large hand grasps at yours, "Wait-". You stumble a bit when he grabs at your hand, "Wh-".

"I really need you to know that I'm sorry," he pleads, "Y/N I know I'm an asshole that you could never forgive but trust me, I hate myself just as much as you hate me... please...".

Taking your hand back, you sigh and step back. You look down at his pleading, desperate form, "I never said I didn't forgive you... but that doesn't mean that what you did and what you're continuing to do is okay by any means... I can't keep forgiving you Vox, and frankly, I'm the only person that will even forgive you to begin with. You need to change. You can get better, I know you can. I've seen you better...". And with that, you leave, not bothering to turn back. You know that if you look back now at his sorry-ass you'd stay. And what good would staying do?

You've done enough. The rest was up to him.

-- The blaring sound of your alarm wakes you up. Groggily sitting up, you rub your eyes and hop out of bed. Today's an important day, you had to accompany Vox to an important meeting with the overlord Carmilla Carmine.

After a much-needed cup of coffee, you take a shower, letting the soothing hot water wash the grime of yesterday off you. As you wash up, you can't help but wonder what today would be like... 'Would Vox be nicer? Would he stay the same?'. Questions plagued your mind throughout getting ready.

Stepping out of the shower, you put on a robe and plug in your hair dryer to style your hair. You style your hair and put on your make-up after. Glancing over to check the time, you panic a bit, 'Shit, I'm gonna be late if I don't haul ass!'. Hurriedly, you put on your uniform: a form-fitting white blouse and navy blazer, a teal and navy tie, navy pants, and black stiletto heels. Taking one final glance in the mirror, you leave for work.

Pulling into your parking space, you speed walk into work, worried that Vox will be pissed if you make him late for his meeting. You push open the large circular doors to his office and hurry down the walkway. Vox is sitting in his chair with an annoyed expression as an employee stands beside him. Of course, your nosy ass wanted to see what was happening, so you stood and watched.

Neither Vox nor the employee had noticed you as you eavesdropped. Vox sits with a hand pinching the bridge of his nose, gritting his teeth as he holds back his anger, "You want a what?". "A raise, sir." the employee squeaks. The hand that was previously pinching his nose drags across his face as he tries to restrain his anger, "Why the ₣Ữ- ahem- Why would I do that?".

You could tell Vox was trying to not berate the employee. An involuntary smile crept across your lips. 'He's trying...'. "W-Well because I've been working here for a long time and-" the staff member goes on and on, stuttering about why they should get a raise. Vox felt frustration rising in him as the employee went on. Vox rose up from our chair quickly before the staff member could continue any longer, "Fine! Just-" he pointed a large teal claw towards the door, "GO!". The employee says their thank-you's as they swiftly rush down the walkway.

His eyes land on you, standing there with a grin, "What that look for?". "What? Oh! Nothing, just here to remind you of your 10:00 meeting with Carmilla," you respond. "Oh," he begins, "right, let's go.".

-- A sleek black VoxTech limo chauffeurs you and Vox to the meeting. The ride was fairly quiet, and a tad awkward since you both didn't know how to talk normally after what went down yesterday. Luckily Carmilla's office was a short ride from the Vee Tower, so you didn't have to sit in awkward silence for too long. Upon arrival, the two of you briskly walk into her office so as to not be late. When you walk in, Carmilla and Vox exchange formal greetings and pleasantries 'How are you' 'Nice to see you' blah blah blah. Carmilla's sharp eyes fell on you after they finished the courteous exchange, "And who would this be?".

Vox's eyes flicker to you, then back to Carmilla, "Oh. This is Y/N, my assistant... and friend."

-

ITS DONE WNIWEHIWHFOUIWHEI. i hope you guys liked it! lmk if u wanna be tagged for future chaps! if theres any grammar mistakes or parts that dont make sense lmk!

-

TAG LIST:

@lovelyemily, @preppyfellaa, @diffidentphantom, @lil-glum, @leonotlara,

@matpatsstuff, @rapunzelbro, @n0tmentallystable, @that-one-person-blue If I missed anyone or incorrectly added anyone, let me know!

[fiendishfyre]

I want to hear your thoughts on Regulus👀

Oh my gosh, I m literally so hyped for this ask!!

Hehehehehhee. Okay, I am not eloquent nor articulate so forgive me.

Okay, first off, I *abhor* the notion he was forced to become a DE, I am sorry but neither Walburga or Orion would force Regulus to clip out anything related to his Lord and Saviour, Voldemort. Look, they allowed Sirius to have his posters and yes he put a sticky charm on it but you're telling me that they couldn't actually get it down??? Like literally could hire someone.

What I am trying to say is, they had free will and chose what they wanted to have be up. (Fook it, Walburga could have added an illusion charm to make it appear differently. I could go. Walburga left Sirius' room as is for a reason. They were not dictator parents.)

So I am a Regulus was a willing and proud (for the most part) Death Eater. He was a blood supremacist. We don't need to have seen him say mudblood to know he'd likely have tossed that word around like it was nothing. He is a ***minor*** character so of course we shouldn't be getting that much info. And no I am not saying what we had was plenty in the sense that, he is Sirius' brother and it would have been interesting to see more on him. But unnecessary, in my opinion.

Now for his betrayal/'Redemption'.

To be frank, I don't think he had a change of heart. He could have easily turned because his house elf was almost killed and you can take it as he is doing it for the fact someone he cared for was used or that his *property* was used, I see both. He's a pureblood and a Black and you don't fuck with whats theirs kinda thing.

Also the horcrux, knowing Voldemort created one. Tore his soul apart for it. Which is the taboo even amongst Dark wixen. You can take out muggles, burn down blood traitor families but to tear ones soul could have been the limit for Regulus, fearful of what Voldemort was willing to actually do. And that it tears the mind too. Who wants to follow a crazy leader?

All of the above doesn't mean he had a change of heart, that he was betraying Voldy for a truly altruistic reason. He kinda traumatized Kreacher all over again. He let the poor elf stay in the cave.

And you'll find me hard pressed to make Regulus this 'woke', progressive, Slythertin. That such screams OC (Original Character) to me. I see him very much as a misogynistic, sexist, blood supermacist. He had his family crest over his bed! Agh! He was a proud Black!

He is a pathetic white boi. I love him for it. I don't wanna change him. XD

I love Regulus Black, but I love villains/dark/flawed/etc characters and I don't agree with the notion that you must change these characters to justify liking them. That speaks to the person on how they have a morality complex. (Or perhaps not morality complex but a lack of understanding what you like in fiction doesn't mean you support it in real life. This topic deserves its own post.)

There is more on Regulus that I could talk about but this is long enough already. Hahahaha.

[bodycountgame]

The way I, and i think lots of others, would devour your Hozier essay like please spare us some crumbs i beg (also Vinh my beloved......when I say that song choice has ruined me.. your mind thank you)

hahaha okay this been so hotly requested but i am incapable of coherent thoughts so please enjoy these rambling thoughts that i jotted down in the notes app while on the bus!

i feel like there is more to be said but also bus journeys are finite so i'm just doing what i can with the time i have lol. what are your thoughts??? please share with the class i Know you have opinions and i wanna hear em!

adegoke: movement

so adegoke's character playlist actually has a different hozier song on it (from eden) which i always imagined to be more from MC's perspective. 

for adegoke, i love the idea of romance like the push and pull of the ocean currents, waves meeting and breaking, a rhythm. and movement just gives me that, i guess! adegoke is also a deeply creative person and movement really gives the vibe of the lover as an inspiration, a muse, which i think would be something that he would totally relate to. as a writer, love is at the core of his work - even when it isn't the subject it is what he finds grounding. 

adegoke also loves to dance (and is an excellent dancer) so that particular expression feels so appropriate. 

arthur: angel of small death and the codeine scene 

this one is quite literal, i guess - arthur is a mean little weasel and it can be a challenge to find the sweetness in him. i think arthur defaults to an "i can make them worse" approach to romance which i think this sort of speaks to.

also his family are terrible and he often feels like a bit of a stray, i think. 

atticus: NFWMB

this one has been pulled straight from his character playlist because its just So ???????? musically it just reminds me of him but i know nothing about music so i have no idea how to articulate it - the sort of unassuming and almost casual vibe contrasted with the utter devotion in the lyrics. the emotional intensity comes from the lack of fanfare, you know?

also like. atticus loves a hair pull, sort of sexy possessive vibes and a rhetorical question so the "ain't you my baby" really hits on that level as well lmaooo 

avery: it will come back

this is another one that is already on avery's character playlist hahaha what can i say i'm a hozier bitch!

this choice is really about avery's complicated relationship with softness and intimacy, especially in a romance with MC which is Forbidden when she places such an emphasis on her professionalism. the way that she partitions different parts of her life is something of a defense for her after her difficult experiences in medicine - she's learned the hard way, she knows better, and yet she just can't help herself. i always think of avery's romance as being like a dam bursting; there's nothing for a long time until a little crack forms and then the dam breaks and everything falls apart. once she has a taste she can't be satiated, which i think this song speaks to. 

charlie - sunlight

he just can't keep away, even knowing how totally disastrous it will probably be for him, but he continues on gladly because he thinks that being that close to the sun will feel worth it even after it's burned him. he's 'death trap clad happily'. 

ellis - almost (sweet music) 

i did a deep dive into ellis' who playlist on patreon way back when and (surprise surprise) this was one of the songs that features on their playlist. this was actually one that i didn't say too much about because its just a bop, you know??? there's the lyrics about their foolish heart, but otherwise this song just screams ellis at me and i never really know why its just a warm fuzzy good vibe and that's them all over. 

florrie - take me to church 

a song thats an endictment of catholicism And fucking???? all the ingredients to make up a solid florrie song. there are a few lines that give me big florrie energy (she's the giggle at the funeral / knows everybody's disapproval / my lover's the sunlight / get something shiny) but in general i imagine florrie would fare well being worshipped, i think that's a great dynamic for her, so this is reflective of that. 

griffin - someone new 

i don't think this one really needs much explanation - griffin falls fast and hard and often. he's my romeo, and every bit as naive.

beyond that, i do think that griff is someone who doesn't believe there's a Right Way to go about things and he's quite happy to muddle through life and always seems to land on his feet - a great person to help someone really uptight unwind hahaha 

imogen - my love will never die 

of all the characters, imogen is the one who is most likely to get on her knees and beg someone to love her. 

also she loves flowers 💐 

nyra - to be alone 

this one is also pretty literal lmao i am many things but i am Not a deep thinker. she doesn't love crowds, and i think the thing that nyra would value most in a partner is having someone that she can be alone with, if that makes sense? one of those special people that you can hang out with and still have the regenerative effect of alone time. 

when we meet nyra in body count she's in the midst of a really hard time in her life - we're at a real low point for her. she doesn't really feel like a person, she feels like a zombie dragging herself from one day to the next. she needs to work through that on her own (falling in love doesn't Magically Fix People), but i think that her relationship with MC would give her a few little sparking reminders to help guide her on her way. 

rowan - jackie and wilson 

again soz this is on her character playlist hahaha! this is an absolute rowan anthem for me - she is my roman candle of the wild. i mean obviously this song is so fun and that is Very Rowan, but the "better yet, she wouldn't care" particularly speaks to me. rowan is very much someone who can meet people where they're at with grace and understanding and help to build them up. 

syd - work song 

syd was the hardest person to match a song with, weirdly, but it was the second verse that really cinched it (and I was burnin' up a fever / i didn't care much how long i lived / but i swear i thought i dreamed her / she never asked me once about the wrong i did). syd is a hard person to Date because they are a fuck up! they don't always get things right or know the right things to say or make the right gesture. that said, if someone can work through the initial challenges with them, they would be rewarded with endless devotion (albeit expressed in their own funny little way). 

vinh - in a week 

lying down and dying together in a field to be eaten by animals is peak romance to vinh lmao. in general, i think once they find Their Person it will be someone that they can feel at home and happy with regardless of the situation, and there isn't much that they wouldn't be willing to endure as long as they had that. 

[rockwgooglyeyes]

saw your reblog snd. vera would very much welcome a visit but she might be uh… hard to find… and a little scared that onyx might report that he found her but. i kinda wanna know what you think if onyx did find vera eventually ?

HHYYEYY HI HI HI JUNE!!! sorry you are probably in school rn . . . I hope that is going well! Anyways back to Vera and Onyx. . .

🥺👉👈 i hope it is okay that i am going to write something instead of actually . . . answer your question directly *cries* but basically, Onyx would be actively seeking her out because he's been worried about her since her round. I don't know how to exactly articulate his thought process in a straightforward way atm (which is honestly why I'm going to write instead of just saying it lmao)

trigger/content warning for gore, mentioned/referenced death

As soon as he got out of the holding pod, brushing past Oryon and ignoring the huff of frustration that earned him, Nyx ran to the place he last saw Vera. The staff backstage didn't stop him or even give him a passing glance, recognizing him as one of the contestants in the upcoming 16th round. He didn't think too hard about the fact that he was only some two, three weeks away from his end. He couldn't think too much about it or else he was at risk of falling into a downward double helix of mental decay.

Splotches and rivulets of blood dribbled and dripped along the typically cold, clean floors. The particular river that found its way to the source of Flor, Rosca, or Ellie, well, that was unclear. He followed each tributary to the mouth, unflinching in the face of the gore and viscera being cleaned off of the floor and the bodies, before they could be disposed of. It was nearly impossible to tell that Ellie was ever bleeding, her hemorrhage the same shade as the halo of curls around her face. He wondered, distantly, what they were going to do with the bodies. He slunk away before he got a chance to find out.

She loved her. She loved her and she took her life. How could something like that happen? Part of him just can't let it go. He rubbed at his face and let out a sigh. Rosca loved Flor and decided to die with her. Love shows itself in different ways, he supposed.

Finding a messy, smudged trail of red on the floor, not belonging to any of the girls who died tonight, Nyx walked beside it, careful not to smudge the blood further. By process of elimination, this path must to belong to Vera, who ran away uninjured but not unscathed by the spray of gore, the hem of her white dress absolutely drenched in it as she fled. Nyx made sure that no one noticed him weaving his way through the throng of people mulling about, as well as the ones rushing in and out of the backstage on a mission, and he ducked behind a thick fabric, deeper into the belly of the arena.

Luckily enough, Nyx has always been good at finding things. Whether or not something is lost or someone just doesn't know where it is, Nyx can find it, with nearly 10/10 results. It's only been a few times he hasn't been able to, and he prefers to think of those as outliers, rather than the rule. He doesn't know how long exactly it takes but, as always, he finds Vera.

Pushing the vent open and crawling out into a dimly-lit room, Nyx blinks in surprise when he sees a small figure huddled in the corner, white ruffles fanning out around her in waves, the edges stained with crimson slowly oxidizing into copper. Her head pops up and she locks eyes with him, eyebrows shooting up as soon as she sees him, and she recedes in on herself further, something he hadn't really believed possible.

"Vera," he starts hesitantly, unsure of what he really wants to say. She stiffens, going as still as stone, giving him pause. He takes a moment to close the vent panel behind him and the moment he turns around, she's lunging at him, her hands at his throat. His back hits the wall with a clang and he wheezes at the sudden restriction on his trachea but somehow, he knows that she doesn't truly mean to hurt him. Maybe it's the way her hands trembling are against his neck.

"If you even think of speaking to anyone about this and- and turning me in," she tells him, her voice wavering ever so slightly. Her jade eyes bore into him, always dull since the incident but somehow even duller since she won her round. "I- I'll make sure you never speak again." He swallows and feels her grip tighten.

"Ver. . . Vera," he rasps. "I wouldn't do . . . that." Her eyes narrow before she raises an eyebrow at him.

"Swear on it," she demands. He holds up his hand, pinky raised. She glances to it, hesitating before letting out a sigh and releasing his neck. She wraps her pinky around his and nods to him. "Alright."

"Are you okay?" He croaks. She looks at him for a moment before letting out a bitter, cracking laugh.

"What do you think?"

"No, you're not," he answers softly. He holds out his hand to her. "Is there . . . anything I can do?" Vera is silent for a long moment before she puts her hand in his, tangling their fingers together. She nestles into his side and gives him a questioning look.

"Can," she breathes, looking down at the ground. "Can we just stay like this? For a little while?" Nyx feels himself smile and he wraps his free arm around her.

"Of course, as long as you need."

(flor and rosca belong to @sotogalmo!)

[yakeisoda]

Hello, just wanna start this off by saying that I love your art. I've decided to ask my favourite artists for art tips as I wanna get into it, but no matter what I do it never looks right. So, any tips?

HELLO TYSM!!! ngl i dont think im the best 4 this question im also kinda in a rut rn where im not really satisfied w my art n craving more progress and improvement but im getting there somewhat but very slowly! (ive been this way for a rly long time naow) this might be long but im gna try n throw in the things ik, sorry if my thoughts r messy im not the best in articulating stuff :')

i think a good way to start off is to find out what skill you lack the most or what you want to improve the most on, say for ex: u wna focus on getting better at composition for illustrations, then a good way to improve them is to learn about the composition rules (ex: rule of 3rds, etc), look for any scenes in films/animation or photographies and storybooks , study them and recreate it! go crazy !! ive done a study on a friend's picture before, and have asked my friends if i can use their photographies as practice!

looking for inspiration will also improve ur visual library, they can help u find what u wna put in ur art ! like perhaps certain color palettes or styles, it's best to look at different mediums of art instead of focusing only on one, sometimes u can find techniques meant 4 u! (ex: of this is my friend who used to be a watercolor artist, ive observed them using watercolor techniques when they were still new to digital art! basically mix n match whatever feels good/convenient 4 u :] )

disciplining urself is also good to have more improvement! i have trouble w this the most ever since bc its hard 2 focus if no one is like there to monitor u (in my experience), if u rly wna make progress u have to squeeze in some art practice time in ur schedule, it can be around 15-30 mins or even 3 hrs, completely up to you! (rmb to take breaks!). you can give urself deadlines if that will help n maybe timers too!

my prof always said "Proper practice makes perfect", so it's also best to practice with a clear goal in mind, take notes on the things u lack and if ur watching any art tutorials/speedpaints, take notes of those too! it's good to have something specific in mind so u wont get lost n u wud know what u wna do! it helps u retain info as well so u can look back on stuff, to avoid overwhelming urself u can just focus on small bits first, ex: in anatomy, u can focus on the head area first, break it down to drawing eyes and noses, etc! then u can move onto the torso area!

USE REFS!!!! make use of pinterest or any other refs u can find, cannot stress this enuf go crazyyy w references, make a moodboard full of referencess n go crazzyy w them!! i used to not like doing this bc i just head straight in to drawing bc thats what i was used to but art college trained me 2 use refs bc they help so very much, theyre like ur guideline for what u wna make so u have a clear goal in mind, also photobashing seems like a great practice too never tried it but yes it can help when ur planning an illustration/concept art!

^above also applies to art styles! go crazy n experiment w them!! i think its so very fun to explore diff art styles n not stick to 1, again this depends on u but having a different range of artworks is rly fun, u can go from very pastel soft colors n style, to smth very vibrant n sharp, to smth like dark n chalky-sketchy kind of vibe if im making sense T__T, basically go wild!! go crazy!! dont let urself sit in 1 box! hop into other boxes !! or wear all of them!! or poke holes in the box n add stuff to the box or wear a circle!! trust me it looks so fun if u put different artworks uve made side by side n go wow i did that!!

also create small thumbnails 4 illustration! its really best to plan ahead art too, as i said i used to just head straight in n not plan but ive learned to absolutely enjoy planning making art! collecting refs n seeing what kind of composition goes n what colors wud work is so very fun actually! it rly helps a lot

theres also this one post i lost the link, but basically it shows how much progress u can make if u make loose sketches vs full on rendered illustrations vs a mix of both, again this depends entirely on u bc things r different for everyone! i think that post is really good for teaching abt art progress (if any1 knows where it is pls do link!), i think focusing on sketches n practice is better tho bc it helps u draw more freely n loosely! i think that speeds up ur process more as well n doesnt make u lose interest immediately compared 2 focusing on finishing 1 big rendered illust (talking from experience) but then again its different for every1 so honestly just experiment n see what feels right for u!

i wna say tho that although it is good to make sure ur drawing looks right its also good to just let yourself draw freely, i think what matters is that u understood the structures of something and as long as ur able to apply that in ur own way i think thats gud! i think drawing freely helps u draw more fluidly? like having more expression is what i mean. ive gotten into the "i have 2 make this look right" hole before n i noticed it made my art look stiff, so highlyy recommend doing gesture drawing n life studies! rmb to have fun when practicing n learning,

dont pressure urself too much! enjoy the experience :] ! messy sketches r good!! not everything has to look good or perfect! my sketchbooks from way back were just doodles, pencil sketches no color mostly, theres an occasional lined one w markers , ballpen, n some highlighters, n my drawings were either smth funny that happened w me n frens with our personas or making ocs for my faves or ocs for me in general!

ur sketchbook doesnt have to look pretty its like ur diary but its art ykno! ur thoughts in visual form for the day! (again all up to u as long as u have fun! its all different 4 everyone!)

anw tysm again!! sorry if this was all over the place HAHSAW i tried my best but these r the tips i keep in mind most of the time or the ones i hold closest to me n that i try to apply as much as i cud! if u need anything else clarified just lmk! not the best w words but hopefully it helps :'')! most of the stuff i mentioned here i also need to take into practice HAHWHAW so mb its gud 4 me to write this down so i can finally push myself to do stuff,

[vote-gaara]

I wanna see how Gaara gushes about your oc when asked, or just about a beloved s/o in general

Gaara Gushing Over a SO

Gaara doesn't really "gush" in a general sense. He's more subtle in his affection, which is more accidental "slickness."

Mostly, he will compliment a SO on just about anything, using words like "excellent", "magnificent", and "beautiful." Though he does tend to stall out on expressing his love through affirmations, for although he is quite articulate and indirectly poetic, he doesn't feel as though words don't hold enough weight.

So he turns to other forms of "gushing." For example, gift giving. Oh my god, the gifts. These gifts are normally extremely personal, and are demonstrations of how much he takes an interest on a SO's life. For example, if a SO is a ninja and has been practicing a certain skill, perhaps he would go out and gift them a weapon that is engraved, in celebration of their milestone (and without him even being told of it in the first place). He will almost always opt to have the gifts be found rather than given directly, usually with a small note that says "I wanted you to have this" - Gaara.

When thanked for the gift, he will refute it being a gift at all as he "isn't all that good at gift giving" (which is a complete and utter untruth). Instead, he will insist "it was just a little something I'd thought you'd appreciate." As if it were flowers or a box of chocolates, but because of how personal the gift was, the SO would almost always see through the humbleness. Gaara would also smile seeing his SO happy with what he had given them.

Furthermore, he would be physically loving, but only in private. He's not so much as a hugger, but someone who would be happy to caress his SO's hair, cuddling them and I think he would also like picking them up??? Like I could totally see Gaara's SO saying "let's go to bed" and he would just swoop in, pick them up and take them to bed as if he wanted to take the burden of walking while tired away from the person he loves.

Gaara Gushing Over My OC:

Actually, Gaara doesn't really gush over Kaiya. They were friends for too long before pursuing a romantic relationship in order to do that. Instead, they settled into a comfortable stride of tormenting each other with subtle pranks which are actually just expression of love and friendship. For example, they play "gift hide and seek", where they hide gifts for each other to find. At first it was normal stuff: Leaving flowers on the table for when the other got home, or their favorite snack in the pantry; however, the gift giving has turned into a more "one upping" type situation and the hiding places have kinda gotten out of hand.

Both Gaara and Kaiya like to trick one another and get on each other's nerves. Since Gaara spent so long in isolation and he's behind in socialization, trust is extremely important to him, so by subtly (and classily) fooling one another, it's a sign that both of them can be themselves as they are both equals. Gaara sees that Kaiya isn't walking on eggshells with him simply because she's so willing to give him shit, and he can sass her right back and be certain that she will take it with good faith and trust. Essentially, to Gaara, these pranks aren't really for fun (though the are fun), they're more trust building exercises.

Example Fic:

Gaara flipped over the small, plastic hourglass. "You have thirty seconds," He said watching as Kaiya stared hard at the chess board.

"Hmmm.." Kaiya uttered under her breath, moving a finger along with her thoughts as she contemplated her next move.

"Times up," Gaara said, just seconds later.

Kaiya looked up in confusion, turning her attention to the hourglass which had all of its sand neatly piled on the bottom. She looked back at Gaara, jutting her finger up at him.

"Listen here, you jerk, there is a ruse afoot, and as soon as I figure out what it is..." She began wagging her finger, trying not to smile.

"It's my turn now," Gaara said as he reached over to flip the hourglass, but Kaiya batted his hand away.

"No! No, no no! You cheated, and now I get to take as much time as I'd like for my next move. But now you will be treated to a full commentary of my thought process." Kaiya declared as Gaara rested his cheek in his hand, watching as she went back to pointing at the chess board.

"Now you see this pawn here has an imperfection so its become my favorite so I think it will be fine where it is...Now the one next to i-"

"Hurry up," Gaara said, feigning impatience.

Kaiya slapped the table with her hand, staring hard at Gaara. "Okay, well, now you're just gonna have to sit there while you get the full story," She said sassily. "Now this pawn here, the one with the defect, he had that since birth which made his family surrender him to the King to become a servant. This pawn right next to him is his brother, who is a servant to the king's guard. Now the pawn's brother has been sneaking around, sleeping with the queen and no one else knows, but this bishop who is..."

Gaara listened fondly as Kaiya monologed for 15 minutes about a story she had just invented out of thin air, and when she was finished, the two locked eyes, a silence falling over them - a stalemate.

"I see..." Gaara said after a few moments, he was gathering his thoughts to throw the story - and the game- right back at her. "So what you're saying is that this defective pawn was surrender to-"

[mocha000]

WTH THIS CH IS SO GOOD! SO INTERESTING! THANK YOU!

I felt so tense throughout this ch wow. "For a moment you’re keenly aware of every molecule of your body." This paragraph is so good! "Butter, cream, sugar. You, Jin, Jimin. Jimin. You think you might vomit tiramisu all over the bathroom floor." Noo! TT "“Pup” you wait for him to say that he needs more help than you can offer, that carrying Minnie and keeping him alive is more than you can help with." This section is so important. I love that he is ok with her going. "Like every second could be Jimin’s last heartbeat. (thump thump thump)" Ahh :(

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong? Or are you just going to pout at me until I go get Yoongi?” Too cute! "You’re giving Hobi the choice you never got, that Yoongi never got, and he'll choose the same path anyway." Damn :/ "I'm okay with being scared so long as it's for you." Ahh so sweet. Mc is so cool for being brave.

"Your feet fight against the muck, sliding through it, cold and gross around your ankles. Water soaks your socks." The pushing the car section seems so serious wow. Jimin is joking but the mood feels so solemn to me. "You think you’re fine until you try to pull away from the side of the car and can���t." And then this happens?! I got so scared. "You haven’t even had time to cry out before there is a body behind you, hand closing around the spot where you’re snagged under the water, ripping the fabric with strong hands." So cool ahh.

Joon and Yoongi being so happy about Hobi and mc is so cute. And they're so intimate. "Yoongi looks like he might be a little bit in shock, the scent blooming every few seconds, sweet chocolate cocoa when he thinks of it," CUTE! ehehe. "Namjoon feels settled down to his bones, in that deep-seated alpha way that he’s not sure he’d be able to articulate even if he tried." This paragraph omg!

"Their knees are nested between each other’s on the too-small table and too-small seats." THIS PARAGRAPH OMG! “Love you so much Tae- wanna be your mate- wanna marry you too if y/n lets me- wanna have your pups." "Jimin. You are an alpha. You can't get pregnant." Silly alpha lol

The whole section after that is so good! "The three of you share a look and for a second, the only sound is Jimin's blood dripping. A little faster with every heartbeat. Down the leg of the kitchen table onto the floor in red rivulets. Drip drip drip." So well-written. "His other hand tucking his hair behind his ears and kissing his bloody cheek." Aww. "Yoongi’s chest heaves, breath coming quick and fast. “No, it’s not- it can’t be.”" Oh no :(

"Your eyes dark and determined as you stare them down. "I'll do it if you won't! I'm not letting Jimin go to prison!" I imagined this moment so well. How frazzled and desperate mc looks. "There is a warm body at your back, a strong chest and long arms that you know circling your waist to pull you back against them." And then Hobi. Aww. "Do it from behind that way Jimin can say he didn't see who stabbed him." Damn. This line hits so hard. It reminded me that Yoongi saw things in the mafia.

"the beginning was one of those cases that i read it so many times i can't tell if its ass or gas- so it's up for you to decide." It's good! "All things said, hobi is taking this incredibly well." True lol "but i greatly belived that the m/c would have killed jin had she thought that he was actually trying to kill jimin for being involved with the mafia like-" What?!

"honestly i started to hate this chapter halfway through editing it, if there was ever one that i needed you to show love to its this one god 😮‍💨 i never thought i'd feel out of practice writing this sort of thing." HELLO?! ARE WE SEEING THE SAME CH! ITS SO SO GOOD AHH! "are the funny parts out of place? do they break up the terror too much or just the right amount?" I couldn't really feel the funny moments over how tense this ch was. They are more funny as I read back doing this review.

"i tried to look it up if you could possibly conceal bullet wounds this way and didn't find anything so you're just gonna have to trust me." lol ok

Before I Leave You (Pt.64)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: “Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.” “Shut up Jimin you are not going to die.”

Tags: Angst, Blood, graphic depictions of violence, dead bodies, Gore, Maiming, violent acts described perpetrated by loved ones, near death experiences, near death experiences, No one dies, Jimin does not die, Hurt with just a little comfort, implied sexual content,

W/c: 8.6k

A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter is a little shorter than usual after such a long wait. i've been going through a rough patch™ which is why recently the updates have been 3 weeks apart instead of just 2 like usual. When i tell you the end of this chapter has a fucking twist to it that i love, you're not prepared!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

“I shot Minnie.”

It takes you a breath for the words to sink in. Standing in the bathroom in the half-grey darkness golden hallway light streaming in through the open door. It’s strange how inside of your body you feel at that moment.

That frantic fever urgency of your pulse, your breath, your everything when traumatic things are about to happen and when they’re happening.

For a moment you’re keenly aware of every molecule of your body. The tacky-sweet feeling of slick drying between your thighs, the cold smoothness of the slate tile beneath your feet, the too-long press of your fingernails as you grip the bathroom countertop to keep from falling to the tile floor. Everything in feverish detail.

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the light from Yoongi’s phone screen illuminates your face in blue. You look at the mirror, then down at your hands.

Minnie, a gun.

A bullet, Jin.

Your brain is whirling. Putting two and two together is like putting together a recipe. Only now you have the result and have to backtrack. How did you get here? Jin keeps talking, word vomiting down the line, and you miss a few sentences while you’re trying to put it together.

Butter, cream, sugar.

You, Jin, Jimin.

Jimin.

You think you might vomit tiramisu all over the bathroom floor.

You close your eyes, thinking hard while Jin talks. His words run over themselves with worry. “I discharged my weapon if we go to the hospital- they’ll- they’ll know and I don’t know if I can cover this up with just lies-”

“Is he dead?” Your voice is lethal in its quiet, so quiet that you think it might not go through the phone. Jin doesn’t hear it- too preoccupied with his own terror.

You close your eyes, quietly begging anything or anyone who might be listening. If god is going to take so much from him- the least she can do is give jimin this. One simple measly miracle is all you're asking for.

“Jin- tell me right the fuck now- Is Jimin dead?”

“Pup.” Jin sounds like he’s just been strangled. Like all the wind has just been knocked out of him. “Put Yoongi on the line.”

“No.” You're shaking, your heartbeat in your ears louder than your lofty hopes. Hand digging into the counter so hard that you feel it in your bones. “No, not until you tell me right now- is Minnie-”

“Hey pup.” Jimin’s voice is a quiet croak. You sag against the countertop and slide to the floor. It’s barely a weak whisper on the other side of the line. You’re glad it’s not a video call. You’re not sure you could handle seeing him if he sounds so raw. “Minnie- Minnie are you? does Jin?”

Does Jin know?

Jin must have taken back the phone because- “I need you to go get Yoongi. Now. We can’t be here any longer than necessary.” there's the muffled sound of shuffling, of hair grating against the speaker. "We're vulnerable here, I don't know if more people will come."

You move, leaving the bathroom and thundering up the steep stairs to the bedroom. There's the distant sound of Hoseok in the kitchen probably putting away the tiramisu. You head for the nest, rushing, falling to your knees in front of it, phone pinned between your shoulder and your ear.

“Yoongi isn’t here. He’s with Jungkook and Tae and Namjoon.”

“Hang up then and I’ll call Namjoon.” You peel back the nest skirt to get under it, where Jimin keeps his gun cases. They're there in the shadows, three of them black and plastic. A photocopy of his concealed carry license is taped to each on top. No one had been particularly happy about him storing them there (Namjoon especially) But now you’re glad to have them close on hand.

“No, not until you tell me where you are.”

“Pup this isn’t- you can’t-”

“Jin, please.”

You try the same code that Jimin has for his cellphone. You know it because you have a habit of going through his after your dates for some of the photos that he takes of you and Tae.

8-7-5-8.

The box clicks open and you roll your eyes. Alphas.

“Pup” you wait for him to say that he needs more help than you can offer, that carrying Minnie and keeping him alive is more than you can help with. You wait for him to say that you’re neither strong enough mentally nor physically to handle this.

But it doesn’t come. Jin’s tiny fraught sigh is there, but then-

“Alright.”

There are spots for five different handguns inside. Two missing vacant cuts into the foam. You take the smallest one, checking stock to make sure it's got bullets in it. You fumble with it, unsure and unused to this. You make sure the safety is on before you tuck it into your waistband.

“Send me your address. And if you need to- get rid of Jimin's gun- god only knows whats on that.” To Jin’s credit, he hardly splutters, hardly takes in another shaky breath.

“How do you know-” You descend the stairs slower. Screwing your eyes shut tight to keep from crying, leashing your voice into something gentle.

“Jin, Minnie is bleeding. You have more important things to worry about right now. We need to figure out how to keep Jimin alive and undiscovered.”

“You know-”

“Yes, I fucking know about Jimin, okay? We’re wasting time. Bye.”

You hang up on him. Your hands are still shaking and you spend a breath looking at them. You want to call Yoongi. Your body aching for your mate's touch, for how steady he makes you feel just by being there. the way he tucks your hair behind your ears, the way his hand is always hovering near the small of your back to guide you- to options that won't hurt and secrets that won't damage things.

You need your mate for this, already your pulse is hammering. The haze of a panic attack on the edge of your vision. One second foggy fear, the next heartbreaking clarity.

Maybe you know how this ends, you know why this is happening even if you try and ignore it. Maybe you realize just then what's going to happen. Not today but eventually, it turns you cold from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

You might not lie to the pack (lying by omission doesn't carry the same weight) but you lie to yourself often.

You will call Yoongi, you decide. You pick the phone back up and navigate towards Tae’s contact. Your thumb hovers between her name and Jungkook’s. You don’t know if you’ll be able to keep your voice steady calling her but Jungkook will almost certainly be able to tell something's wrong just from your tone alone. He's perceptive like that.

Before you can make the call something moves in your peripheries.

There is a dark figure in the doorway, silhouetted by the light coming from the front door and the bay window. It makes you startle but at second glance it’s just Hobi. You look down at him 3 steps up the stairs. Yoongi's phone in your hand and a gun at the small of your back, covered by the fluff of his sweatshirt.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask who you were talking on the phone with. He just tilts his in question, eyes teaming with that warm sort of playfulness.

You have a decision to make; let his opinion of the pack remain what it is or change it for good. In an irrevocable way that you won't be able to take back. It feels like too much change too quickly. Barely an hour ago he was telling you he loves you and now-

The thing about secrets is that they’re terribly hard to keep.

Hobi notices, because Hobi always notices when there’s some sort of change in you or a shift in your mood- call it a survival instinct if you won't call it love.

The set of your jaw is less pouty neediness and more leashed discomfort. Your expression is the same one you had when tae came out and you sat with them at the table and told them for you. You'd think that telling other people's secrets would be easier but it isn't.

Hobi knows your tells. What it looks like when you're about to play your hand. Ace's and all.

You descend the last few steps, each one thudding, making sure you're on the same level before you slowly wrap your arms around his waist. You do it slow even though you feel every second like a gunshot wound. Like every second could be Jimin’s last heartbeat.

(thump thump thump)

Pulling yourself in tight. His hands smooth up and down your back. You could call Yoongi but-

Hobi looks down at you, pecking your forehead. He smiles softly, his lips twisting into something like a grimace because you smell a little bit sour. Doesn't mean he's not going to kiss you but-

You wonder how many times he’s kissed you already, it's only been a day but you’re already losing track of how many, maybe 2 dozen now. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes then back again.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong? Or are you just going to pout at me until I go get Yoongi?”

You shake your head and close your eyes hard. "Don't get Yoongi."

Stealing yourself just a little and hold Hobi a little closer, a little harder. But there’s nothing you can say, no lie that you can tell that will make this better. No secret that you could confess either.

“Jin called and something bad has happened.”

You feel more than see the goosebumps on Hobi’s arms as you pull away, the visceral hard swallow as he looks at your face again, waits, expecting you to pull back say-“It’s a joke it’s nothing-“ But it doesn't come.

“You have two choices Hobi, you can go to the pizza shop, and hang out with Tae and Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi or-” Hobi searches your face for something he knows; the darkness in your eyes, the vague tremble in your arms around his waist. “Or you can help me and be scared. I kind of-”

I kind of need you

But Hobi should have agency in this and shouldn't just take this path because of you. After Yoongi, you've learned when and where to give people the choice to be dragged into things they'd be better off sidestepping. You don't say it but Hobi hears it all the same.

Hobi looks so earnest but asking this of him is no easy thing. It would be easier if you weren’t so keenly aware that you’re taking away something from him. You’re giving Hobi the choice you never got that Yoongi never got, and he'll choose the same path anyway.

He cups your face, skimming his thumb up and down your cheek.“I’m okay with being scared.” I'm okay with being scared so long as it's for you.

“This is serious, this is- you can’t ask questions until I have time to answer them, you just have to listen, understand?”

“Okay.” He nods, tousled hair fluffing, looking so innocent and eager to please that you almost tell him to just stay home.

But as much as you hate to admit it. If Jimin is injured, there’s a chance you and Jin might need a second pair of hands.

It’s a blur. Tugging on your shoes- the same ones Yoongi got you ages ago for your first date with Jimin and Tae. And when you stand, he’s holding out your jacket for you to step into. When you nuzzle into the collar there's the scent of vanilla there from where Jimin rubbed his nose to your throat when you were at the hospital. It doesn't seem possible that it was only yesterday. Everything is Jimin Jimin Jimin.

“Thank you,” you say, sounding vaguely hollow. He kisses the nape of your neck and you put your hand over it.

You point your feet in the direction of Hobi’s car and get in the driver's seat. Taking his keys from him because you need them, need to be the one who drives right now. Holding the steering wheel and controlling the acceleration. Pressing down as fast as a heartbeat.

Thumpthumpthump.

You pull away from the house with a screech hitting the curb with a bit of flying sparks. you don't even wait for it to warm up. Hobi’s hands are on the plastic console of the driver’s side, holding it to keep himself from bobbing before he's belted in. He looks over at you startled. But he doesn't ask you to slow down.

You keep your eyes on the road, blinking back tears. Controlling your emotions because you can’t drive through blurry eyes. Every inch, every tick of the needle, every second of pavement screeching tire means you're a second closer to jimin.

"Jin’s going to send you an address in a few seconds, and I need you to tell me which way to turn.”

Hobi looks at you and then looks at the phone. He doesn’t try to put on a playlist, he doesn’t try to do anything just stares at you and bobbs in his seat when you take a corner too fast.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Nothing; you’re just driving like if we don’t get there in time, someone is going to die.”

~-~

Hoseok remains remarkably calm for the drive, barely saying anything except for the winces he lets out every time you do something risky with the car like take turns at 30 miles an hour or evade a break check by driving along the shoulder.

You start to pass by empty factory buildings. The wheels of his car thudding over cracks and dips in the road until it becomes dust and gravel and the smell of gasoline permeates the interior of the car. Questions building like the heat pumping from the vents.

But he did promise not to ask until later.

The fog covers everything like a balmy damp shadow, the snow going straight to sublimation. Pockets of old street lamp lights punctuate the darkness. Husks of metal rise like soldiers from the shadows. The sky burning rust orange from the distant lights of the city. Not a single star in sight.

Jin’s car is there; Hobi spots it. Its blue paint stands out through the overlap of grey brush as the car's lights roll over it. Jimin's car is another 50 feet away and buried in the darkness. Shiny and black like the husk of an insect.

You're about a mile away from where they must be doing demolition. A singular crane and floodlights shine across a narrow tributary casting everything; the river and the buildings, into a grey-slanted light.

You pull around in the yard in front of the largest and most intact building. You leave the keys in car tumbling out the second it glides to a stop.

“Stay here.” You say, but Hobi gets out anyway. He hasn’t noticed the gun tucked into your waistband until now. It makes his pulse tick higher when you take it out.

"Hobi, sink or swim?"

He looks down at the gun in your hand, "Swim." You shake your head like you're angry with yourself, not him but you don’t waste another second arguing. You head off following the disturbed dust and Hobi trails behind. Ducking from pocket of light to pocket of light.

He always wondered what happened to the gun you’d pointed at him that night you’d run away. That train ticket that still burns a hole in his pocket, a distraction maybe from larger questions he should have been asking.

The way you hold the gun is not practiced; and why should it be? The only one who knows how to handle guns in the pack is Jimin. But the way you walk; completely silent is heartbreakingly familiar. Hobi knows how and why you've learned to move quietly. It's almost a dance; the way you glide across the floor. The gun is an extension of your arms. Spreading and flaying like a wing. Pinky to trigger, your index finger balanced along the barrel.

Hobi had always assumed that it belonged to Yoongi. It was almost 6 months ago now, wasn’t it? Hobi had almost forgotten about it.

There are some things that you never forget. Trauma makes his bones quiet. He's not as good at walking silently as you are but if the crunch of his red Converse against the gravel bothers you; you say nothing.

Hobi feels like he should have asked more questions about it at the time, but now he just bites his lip and stays quiet. You'd promised. You'll tell him in time. Hobi trusts you.

That's the worst thing, isn't it? That Hobi trusts you.

Jimin is sitting in one of the puddles of light, leaning up against one of the containers on the ground floor. Alone. You let out a quiet bereft when you see him. You and Hobi pause in the doorway. Your hand on the gun goes slack

“Minnie!”

you run to him, tucking the gun back into your waistband and falling to your knees at his side. Fingers finding wet-dark fabric. Not water but blood.

Hobi stays there in the doorway, his pulse thudding through his ears, an odd sort of peace to him as he takes in the details. The blood that pools dark on the dusty floor.

Jimin’s half covered with dust himself. Something wooden and red in his lap. The blood that’s dripped down his shoulder gathering there. There is a dragged-through patch of dirt a few feet away, more blood, and Jin is nowhere to be found.

Minnie’s eyelashes flutter. “Alpha-” you say. Almost sobbing in relief that he's alive. Alive you can handle. Alive you can work with. You bend down, getting your hand on his cheek. "Hey- wake up for me a sec okay? We're gonna get you out of here-"

“Hey pup” he laughs half delirious with pain, wincing like making the sound hurts him. “You came to the party" he coughs. "Did you bring Tae?”

You pull back to look at him. “Tae?”

Jimin grins, eyes fluttering closed and his pretty face tipped up against the light. His lips have blood on him- and it looks like a disturbing imitation of Tae’s lipstick. The shadows she leaves on your mouth, on his.

“Yeah- wanna tell her I love her. Wanna tell her I’m sorry. Could you tell her for me?”

This is something Tied tourniquet tight around Jimin’s shoulder to keep him from bleeding out. something you didn't immediately notice. You stare down at the vest now- at the yellow patch letters slowly darkening with blood.

FBI, and then in smaller letters; Organized crime division, Dir. Kim.

Jin appears from around the corner, covered in dust and blood across his thighs, and his throat. So quick you barely have time to raise the gun and then put it down when you see it's not some stranger- someone sent from Yoongi's family to tie up loose ends.

Your hand tightens on the gun as you stare at Jin.

The sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to his forearms and black nitrile gloves cover his hands; same as Jimin's- although one is ripped. His eyes flick from you to Hobi and he almost flinches.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Jin looks back at you. “Did you have to tell Hobi?”

You bristle “I didn’t tell him anything yet. That’s how you properly protect people. Instead of you know-” The insult doesn’t make sense and neither does your anger. Jin is your pack omega but it doesn’t feel like it when you grab his lapel and shake him a little. He doesn’t move, You’re too slight to alter his course.

Hobi stumbles to your side, hand on your shoulder and Jin's. The pack omega almost flinches at the touch.

“Will both of you swallow your god damn pride and-”

The three of you fall silent when Jimin reaches up to grab your thigh.

Jimin's hand on your wrist goes vice-tight, and when you look down at him, he's more lucid. More there through the haze of pain and blood. "If anyone has any right to be mad at Jinnie- it's me."

You stare Jin down, and after a breath, he's the one who looks away from your glare, taking your hands from his coat and gently detangling them.

"Let's just get him to the fucking car." You bite out. And you get back on your knees to gently guide Jimin away from leaning up against the metal. Get your hand around Jimin’s good arm and start to try and tug him to his feet. His eyes follow you fever bright. “Tell Tae that yourself when we get you out of here.”

the three of you get jimin on his feet. Jin under his good shoulder and Hobi by his hip you there, grabbing Jimin's gun and the mask from the ground. Hobi almost trips on a piece of metal.

He’s being so good with this so- so normal. Making pregnant and stressed eye contact with you when you look at him but stay mostly silent.

Jimin’s car keys fall onto the dusty earth just as you get to Hobi’s. placing jimin gently into the backseat before you stop to pick them up.

“My car; they can’t find it here.” You glance at Jin, then Hobi, looking grey.

“Someone needs to be in the back of the car to stabilize you. you can’t just be flopping around when we drive to the-” You break off because oh this just got so much worse; there’s no way that Jimin’s going to be able to go to the hospital. Even with injuries like this.

You make eye contact with Jin again, and both of you realize at the same time, the mountain of evidence that must be inside it, but you're only the three of you- if you take Jimin's car and Hobi takes his and Jin takes his own- no one will be there to hold Minnie and keep him stable. But who knows when you'll have a chance to come back and get Jimin's car.

If the authorities find his car and the body still inside that building. There's no shortage of what they might be able to convict Jimin for. If there was ever a time that you needed another person it would be right now. You should have called Yoongi.

You look up at Jin, “Get rid of it, we just have to-”

“The river-” You stand there, two opposite sides of the same coin both grinning because it's a good plan.

“If we sink it, they’ll never find it.”

A couple of miles away where the floodlights shine, they must knock over something large because you hear the boom and feel the tremble in the earth.

You take everything out of the car first, throwing it into the front seat of Hobi's car. Hobi tries not to think about the items too hard. The sniper rifle, the 3 bulletproof vests, or the ski mask. There's a variety of other equipment underneath the false bottom, arranged perfectly, everything has its spot. An empty tranquilizer gun. Ropes and black trash bags.

The three of you work like a polished team. Moving the car as close as you can to the water Near an old dry dock that flooded, where the soil turns soft and spongy.

It’s hard to push even though you put the car in neutral. the three of you still have to put all your weight into it. Jimin waits in Hobi’s car, parked on the edge. Watching your sluggish procession.

“Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.”

“Shut up you are not going to die” You snap. The line of the doorframe digs into your shoulder as you push with all your might, putting all of your anger and betrayal behind it because it has nowhere to go otherwise.

Jimin really isn’t helping. Hand pressed over his bullet wound, blood slowly dripping from between his fingers.

Your feet fight against the muck, sliding through it, cold and gross around your ankles. Water soaks your socks.

“Seriously I’m bleeding all over the interior. gonna have to get it detailed after i'm gone.” Hobi picks his head up from the other side, grinning at you. You think it’s the first time you’ve even felt a ghost of a smile grace your face since you got the call. He has no idea how much you need that smile.

“It’s red, won’t stain. Don't worry minnie.”

“Your concern for me is glowing.” He's smiling but Jimin’s hand is knuckle-tight over his shoulder.

“Shut up.” you grind out.

Once you get going downhill it’s easy to push the car, down down down until you hit the muck, knee-deep in the fowl-smelling stuff. You walk with it into the icy water. Hobi’s sweatshirt is so big on you and it billows around you in the brackish water. Weighing you down like an anchor in a storm. You guide the car and the cold water is up to your waist. The car thuds and then shudders, bubbling as you get it deeper and deeper.

"That should be good. Come on."

You think you’re fine until you try to pull away from the side of the car and can’t.

Hobi is already cutting through the water back towards the shore, his back to you. You can’t move, and the car is sinking inch by inch. Slowly dragging you along with it. Some corner of your sweatshirt snagged on the doorframe or hooked.

Your hands move scrabbling. Trying to find the spot at your hip where you’re caught. But you can’t see, the water is so dark you can't even see your hands below the surface. Is it terror or just the cold that makes your hands so uncooperative?

You haven’t even had time to cry out before there is a body behind you, hand closing around the spot where you’re snagged under the water, ripping the fabric with strong hands.

Jin’s hands don’t leave you once he’s untangled you, grabbing your hips and dragging you back, back through the mud and up to the embankment. His hand on the back of your neck, “I’ve got you pup, you’re okay, you’re fine.”

Hobi’s already standing up there, soaking wet too. The dust pills on your pant legs and behind you, the car gives one last gurgle. Disappearing for good.

In the dusty darkness, you look at Jin. His gaunt face, soaked with muck like you are. The ends of his hair clumped together, muddy. You blink up at him and he blinks down at you, water in his eyes.

Jimin and Hobi wait, watching you both stand there. Suddenly the gun in your waistband feels too heavy to carry any longer.

Jin closes his eyes, screwing them shut tight like he's waiting for you to shove him again. “Before you yell at me, you should know that Yoongi already knows, about me being an FBI agent. He's known since the beginning."

there is a moment of silence where hobi looks from you to jin. But then You collide with Jin burying your face in the front of his shirt. He swallows past the lump in his throat. One bloody hand comes up to touch your hair and cradle the back of your head.

“Pup- we don’t have time, we have to go. Minnie-” You pull back, eyes wet.

“Alright- alright- just- we’ll meet you at home?”

Jin turns to Hobi, nodding. Hoseok stoops, putting Jimin's legs in the back of the car, they're shaking. All of Jimin is shaking. His body is in shock from losing so much blood and from the cold.

“Don’t speed, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t give anyone a reason to pull you over.”

~-~

(Namjoon.)

The inside of the pizza parlor is balmy with the smell of cooking dough, garlic, parmesan cheese, and Jungkook's happy sunny scent. So at odds with the cold outside.

Namjoon watches Tae and Jungkook giggle and act like pups. Heart clenching the way it always does when he looks at the pack. They smell like roses and honey, like spring days far away now in winter but Namjoon can already feel the spring warmth thawing his tiredness left over from work. A haze to the edge of his vision like he's feeling bumble-bee fluff and sucking honey from the air.

Hope is hot and necessary like sunlight, and Namjoon has a whole lot of it for the future right now. and good for him honestly- it's the last easy breathes he's going to have for a good long while.

He can't believe it. You and Hobi. His body gives an involuntary happy shiver.

Yoongi catches it and raises a knowing eyebrow.

The pack is willing to wait here and give you and Hobi a little more time to sort things out. They've given you hours, they'll give maybe one more. They've already taken Tae and Jungkook out for ice cream. Dessert before dinner has both of them sugar high and hyper.

The pizza parlor is mostly empty- there are no glares or looks as they laugh loud and try to imitate a dance, jungkook's phone propped up on a napkin holder.

Namjoon and yoongi don't join in, they just stare at each other. Yoongi looks like he might be a little bit in shock, the scent blooming every few seconds, sweet chocolate cocoa when he thinks of it, and salty worry when he reaches over to check Tae's phone- just to see if you've texted.

Namjoon knows, and so does Jungkook because Jungkook knows everything.

“I can’t believe they actually-” Jungkook snorts, this isn’t the first time Yoongi’s repeated those words, he’s been muttering it under his breath every few minutes for the last few hours, mostly to himself. Jungkook indulges him this time.

“I know- I thought they’d be emotionally constipated for at least another month.”

Jungkook’s hand is nearly permanently glued to the back of Yoongi’s neck, squeezing reassuringly every few seconds. Even as he and Tae giggle and fall into each other, watching back their video on Tae’s phone. Her sparkly phone case catches the light, and little bits of glitter fall and trickle slowly just like the snow falling outside.

Namjoon's thoughts slush slowly.

Namjoon feels settled down to his bones, in that deep-seated alpha way that he’s not sure he’d be able to articulate even if he tried. Nesting tonight is gonna hit so fucking well. Namjoon is going to scent both you and Hobi until he can feel the sex and pleasure on his teeth and tongue, might just need to taste your arousal for himself. He'll be sweet about it and give you a little wiggle room just to put you back in your places. He feels half feral wanting it already. If he's not careful a scenting like that might send Hobi into rut or you into heat.

Namjoon's almost trembling at the idea of it.

God fucking damn it, he's so in love it hurts a little. He’s sure that Yoongi feels the same deep calmness, the sense of rightness, thinking about you and Hobi.

Yoongi’s lopsided grin says It finally fucking happened. Namjoon’s dimpled smile says, I know, I’m surprised we didn’t have to orchestrate it. They don’t have to say it, the soft words would be swallowed up under the music playing over the loudspeaker (the idol group that Jimin guards- their newest hit).

Their knees are nested between each other’s on the too-small table and too-small seats. Namjoon’s big palm on Yoongi’s knee all tight. His hand over the pack alphas, tangling and playing together in a way that Jin would call flirting without words and Tae might call poetic.

The pack took one car to the pizza place, Namjoon's, gathering snow outside. Probably a bad move honestly because Namjoon is on call. The surgery this morning went off without a hitch, clipping aneurysms on a middle-aged alpha usually goes off without a hitch because Namjoon is quite good at his job. If anything happens post-op Namjoon will have to leave them stranded here.

As Namjoon watches something crosses Yoongi’s face that looks a bit like confusion, his hand leaves Namjoon’s to settle on his hip. Eyebrows pulling together.

Huh? Is it the mating mark?

Their food has just arrived, cauliflower pizza for Jungkook, a messy calzone for Yoongi, and his own meat-filled slice when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Namjoon smiles seeing Hobi’s contact, and answers it. It’s you on the line when he picks up.

“Whatever you do, don’t put me on speaker. Don’t react. Just go somewhere where you won’t be overheard by anyone.” Namjoon's smile falls instantly.

Something about your tone has goosebumps rising on his arms. inexplicable, whether it's instincts or just the fact that Namjoon knows your voice and has never heard you sound like this that tips him off he's not sure.

You’re in the back of Hobi’s car, Jimin sprawled across your lap, your fingers stroking down his cheek, your other hand putting pressure on his bullet wound. Jimin lets out these little hiccupping breaths and in the front seat, Hobi’s eyes flick to the two of you. Your pause your call to soothe him, letting him inhale big settling breaths of your scent. Nose and mouth pressed hard to your wrist. Teeth biting down because Jimin needs something to muffle his pained growl.

"Just hold on Minnie, I know it hurts. We’re almost back to the house."

Namjoon hears it, and his whole body goes cold.

You can say many things about the pack, about pack alphas and pack omegas, but listening goes both ways. Namjoon would never dream of disobeying you when you talk like this. Namjoon stands and walks to the door mechanically. Only when he’s outside, cold air swirling around him, does he speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happened," Namjoon closes his eyes "-and I need you not to tell the others. I need you to come home and leave Jungkook and Tae. Jimin's hurt and we need you.”

Namjoon feels the moment the tense breath in his chest sticks there and he realizes you’re not joking. Jungkook looks up, furrowing his eyebrows at Namjoon in the dark window. The snowflakes falling catch the lamplight around him, dotting his red sweatshirt like the reverse of blood on snow.

There’s a pause and then, “There’s a lot you don’t know, but I need you to hurry.”

Namjoon nods then pauses when he realizes you can’t see. He’s not sure he’s ever heard you sound so serious.

“Do you understand why I’m asking you this Namjoon?”

Namjoon has always been an honest alpha, even when it doesn’t stroke his ego. “No.”

“Because if Tae sees what’s happening, she’s going to need someone to comfort her, and everyone needs to be focused on mini right now.” Your voice trembles, breaking. Below you, Jimin smiles, leaning into your arm. Babbling little and delirious from pain and blood loss.

“Love you so much Tae- wanna be your mate- wanna marry you too if y/n lets me- wanna have your pups."

"Jimin. You are an alpha. You can't get pregnant." Hobi says dryly from the driver's seat, making a very careful left turn that's so slow that it garners a honk from the people behind him.

"But Tae could at least try-"

You close your eyes against the lights of the highway, and across your lap you feel wet soaking into your pant legs. You don't look down, You know it’s blood. It’s so warm, spilling across your knees like sunshine. Bubbling up with every heartbeat.

You don’t know how much more blood Jimin can lose before it’s critical, which is why you need Namjoon.

“-And if Jungkook finds out the stress could make him have a seizure.”

Namjoon is silent on the other end of the line. Completely quiet. Frozen on the sidewalk outside of the pizza place. Above him, the pastel blue pizzeria sign buzzes and flickers. Namjoon inhales the cold air, his exhale coming out warm and steamy visible. When he turns to look inside Yoongi is already staring.

Namjoon must look devastated because Yoongi shoots to his feet. Saying something to the others before he heads out after Namjoon. The bell clinging until he's right there reaching for the phone.

“I’ll see you at home.” You shut your eyes tight. “Bring Yoongi too. I need him.”

The phone in Namjoon’s hands buzzes and when he looks the call has disconnected.

~-~

It's a good thing that most of the snow has melted off or else you’d have a harder time concealing Jimin’s bleeding form as you pull into the driveway. You’re barely outside for a handful of seconds. No curtains move in the shuttered windows of your neighbors. No one is in the cul-de-sac, not even Noodle is waiting for you on the rock wall.

There is no red trail in the snow, just a few drops that land on the dark slate walkway that you’ll clean up before morning. The porch light is off and Your hand leaves a dark imprint on the railing as you rush to open the door for Jin and Hobi, supporting Jimin between the two of them.

But the door opens before you can get to it.

"Joonie!” Jimin's tone drips with false cheer, grinning at the pack alpha and your mate standing just inside the house. As Jin and hobi half drag and half carry Jimin inside and out of sight. Blood dripps down the side of his face from his temple to his chin.

“Holy fuck” your mate mutters. Out of Jin and Hobi and you- you easily have the most blood on yourself. Your pants are soaked through with it and muck from the river, even your hair feels wet and sticky. You must certainly look like a sight, like something out of a nightmare or a bad memory- yoongi can take his pick.

(In truth, the sight of you blood soaked brings up only one other night in yoongi's memory; a night just as tense and pain filled as this. the night you killed Geumjae. This won't be the last time Yoongi sees you soaked in blood either. But at least next time the blood you'll wear won't be the packs and you'll be wearing it as a king and not a pawn).

The drive must have truly taken a toll on him because the second the door closes behind you Jimin’s knees give out and his eyes roll back, passing out as the last bit of energy vanishes from his body. Hobi almost falls with him, but Namjoon and Yoongi are quick to come to his aid.

“Quick- the table.”

Yoongi clears the dining room table with a simple swipe of his hands, sending the bowl of tangerines scattering, rolling like many mini suns across the hardwood floor. They put him down as gently as they can, but Jimin's a puppet with his strings cut. Namjoon swoops in, more trained than any of you, grabbing Jimin’s ankles and holding them up above his heart.

"Come on- Minnie- come on " Namjoon reaches over to tap Jimin’s cheek, gentle once and harder the second time, more of a true slap. Jimin gasps awake, but he’s only half conscious. It’s twilight, his eyelashes fluttering face pale. Mumbling Tae's name over and over again.

"Jin, hold his legs up for me- here"

You’ve never seen Namjoon move so mechanically, so professionally. He's already wearing sterile gloves. His black doctor’s bag cracked open and full of gauze and other medical paraphernalia. The skin around the bullet wound is pinched with blood. Gushing fresh as Namjoon cuts away as much of the tourniquet as he dares with a pair of kitchen shears.

Jimin’s head lolls to the side.

Namjoon lets out a single wet noise. You haven’t heard him cry in so long, you don’t realize that’s what it is until you look at his face.

Your mate’s face is pale and gaunt as he looks at you over the dining room table. “Didn’t you tell him anything?”

“No- I wasn’t sure what to say, I-” Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to Minnie, then up at Jin who looks like he might be about to pass out himself. Holding himself away.

“Who shot him? Did someone corner you? Jin-”

Jin lifts his chin about to confess but before he can Namjoon snaps “Everyone needs to be quiet- please.”

Namjoon places his stethoscope oh so gently to jimin's skin Even the slight action makes Jimin’s face twist in pain. The whole pack is quiet and still, like statues.

The moment passes syrup slow, And Namjoon moves his stethoscope an inch to the left, then the right. Only then does he toss it down onto the floor. Grabbing a sterile towel from his medicine bag and presses it hard over the bullet wound. Closing his eyes and grimacing before he stuffs it, fingers and all into the bullet wound.

Jimin jerks violently, howling, nearly thrashing in pain if it weren’t for Namjoon and Yoongi and you holding him down. He flails, hitting you in the face knocking you back.

Hobi catches you before you fall. “I’m fine, it’s okay just- help them hold Minnie" your hand over your hot cheek. It will probably bruise- but you don't even care as you watch as Namjoon pulls himself onto the kitchen table, putting his full body weight over the bullet wound to try and stem the bleeding.

“He needs a hospital. We need to pack it and then take him there. He’s lost too much blood.”

"We can’t- all bullet wounds need to be mandated reported.”

It’s not all that large of a hole to be honest. Maybe a finger with on the back side and a little smaller at Jimin's front because Jin shot Jimin at such close range. It’s a threw and threw. Even though Namjoon packed the front his back still leaks steadily.

“But Jimin will live, whatever’s going on-” Namjoon shares a glace with Yoongi Jin, then you- and you watch as it dawns on him. “wait- You do know what’s going on, theres something you're not telling me.”

It's accusatory but you nod while Jin and Yoongi stay placid. Namjoon looks once at Jin again then at you, deciding who he trusts more to correctly gauge the odds.

Namjoon looks at you, waiting.

“If the wrong people find out Jiminie is- that he’s-” you pause, and Jimin grimaces, there is blood on his teeth, in his mouth. “It might not just be him hurt by the end of it.”

“But we can’t just let him die.”

Hobi just stands by the couch, your nest just tousled as you’d left it what feels like a lifetime ago. for the first time that night- hobi breaks.

"Oh my god Jimin's going to die-"

Jin's hands are in his hair, yanking, "Tae is going to kill me-"

“Shut up, no one is dying yet. If he dies on us I’ll kill him myself.” you scoff, holding Jimin’s wrist, his hand. “I won’t even bother with a gun I’ll just..."

You fall silent with a sudden intake of breath. Yoongi's head whips in your direction. Jin too looks up from where he was just bowed, realization lighting his eyes up bright.

The three of you share a look and for a second, the only sound is Jimin's blood dripping. A little faster with every heartbeat. Down the leg of the kitchen table onto the floor in red rivulets.

Drip drip drip.

(What you don’t know about Jin and Yoongi’s tentative agreement is that even though they know about each other- they've still been on either side of this. They’ve never worked with each other, never shared querying glances like this. It's a special secret language that thieves and secret killers share.)

Yoongi follows your line of sight to the kitchen. The knives sit sheathed in the knife block. The same ones that he bought Jin as a fancy courting present years ago. The same one's Yoongi sharpens before he cuts the meat that the pack eats for samgyeopsal and bulgogi and shabushabu.

A sharp cut is an easy cut to fix, unlike a blown-apart cavernous bullet wound.

“No.” Is your first reaction. Even though it was your idea. “It’s too dangerous.”

"It won't work." is Jin's response. Namjoon glances from you to him. He hasn't yet realized what you're talking about. doesn't posess the same finess for bloodshed that the three of you do (the three of you could conquer the world, you just haven't' realized it yet)

"It will work." Yoongi straightens. there are whispers of darkness on yoongi's face. a childhood he doesn't talk about in his eyes. a childhood filled of blood and less kindness than you'd think; for it to have made a man like yoongi; who knows how to be gentle because he's felt every kind of unplesantness there is.

"I've seen it done before. A long time ago but still- it works."

“What,” Namjoon snaps. "Are you guys fucking talking about?"

“There’s another option.” Yoongi’s hands are on Jimin, holding his wrists down. his other hand tucking his hair behind his ears and kissing his bloody cheek. His hands are getting colder and there isn’t much time. He’s quiet for a moment, lips pressed to jimin's skin, before he looks up. None of you want to say what you’re thinking.

“A good stab wound with a larger knife, through and through will disguise the bullet wound. It will stop him from bleeding any more. No one will know that Jimin was shot and we can take him to the hospital."

Namjoon’s scent is sour, sour, and acrid and it makes Jimin arch in pain, face twisted. He still doesn't understand why no one must know that Jimin was shot. Still doesn't understand that it was Jin who shot him. He'll learn later over hospital coffee but for now, he misses the blood-soaked and cut up FBI vest laying in a heap on your dining room floor. No yellow left on it- just red.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m not letting anyone stab anybody."

Jimin’s head lolls on the table. His mumbled words fall on deaf ears. “Stab away….might as well…already stabbed through the fucking heart from Tae" (how could Cupid be so cruel?)

"Joonie look at me." Your hand is on Namjoon’s arm, his shoulder, the back of his neck and he rounds on you. Alpha aggression striking before Namjoon can reign in his instincts. He almost snaps his teeth at you. You don't react at the alpha baring his teeth in your face because underneath it all is the panic of a child, a pup who's terrified he's about to lose his family (a sinking feeling in his gut that says maybe, he already has.)

You understand, you know what it's like to feel that way.

Your voice is so calm and gentle. “Namjoon- you just have to trust me. If we take Jimin to the hospital and if they have a reason to take his fingerprints. There is a very good chance Minnie will go to prison. That I will go to prison- that Yoongi will too.”

Jin blinks, eyelashes fluttering. And Namjoon is silent, Hobi's silent too. All of them watching you. Your hands are steady, and your eyes are clear. The clearest they've ever seen.

“There is a lot we haven’t told you. But you need to trust me.”

It’s then that he spots it. Yoongi’s tone is dark as he yanks the wooden mask out of Hoseok's hands. Yoongi would know those masks anywhere; the one that the family gives its employees. This specific type is to delineate a non-relative. The specific kind is the mask that killers wear.

“Where the fuck did you get this?”

You look up at him, “it’s Minnie’s.”

Yoongi’s chest heaves, breath coming quick and fast. “No, it’s not- it can’t be.”

Namjoon’s teeth look particularly sharp when he snaps. “Does anyone but me give a fuck about Jimin right now? Or do you guys only want to pretend that you do?” The rest of the pack watches Namjoon as he ties a new tourniquet. A better one. he can't meet your eyes. quiet and furious as he pulls the knot tight.

“There are too many ligaments in Jimin’s arm, you could cripple him.”

“What other choice do we have?"

“So thats it?” your voice is a shred past hysterical, “we just take him to the hospital and let him go to jail, or let him bleed out and die here?”

The four of you stand over Jimin, on the kitchen table, the spot where you’ve eaten dinner and broken bread and loved each other for the last year. A place of nourishment and love now a place of pain and terror.

You walk three strides to the kitchen and grab the largest steak knife from the kitchen block. Your eyes dark and determined as you stare them down.

"I'll do it if you won't! I'm not letting Jimin go to prison!" you blink tears out of your eyes and there is a moment of silence, a moment where everyone just looks at you.

There is a warm body at your back, a strong chest and long arms that you know circling your waist to pull you back against them. Rubbing soft down your stomach as another comes up to guide your hand. long fingers that curl around your small fist. Grabbing the knife and guiding it, syrup slow out of your grasp.

"There we go" hobi says, words whisper soft.

It's like his words break the spell. “Give me that thing before you hurt yourself.” namjoon snaps.

Namjoon holds the knife and everyone watches as he walks to the pack's liquor cabinet. grabbing the nearest highest proof bottle that he can find and pouring it over the kitchen blade.

“If anyone’s going to do it, it should be me, because I know where Jimin’s joint is.” The pack nods, agreeing. Scattering.

You toss a rag to Jin. “Wipe the gunshot residue from your hands before we get to the hospital. Wipe Jimin’s too while you’re at it. Just in case.”

Namjoon holds the knife in the kitchen. You all have some amount of Jimin’s blood on you and he blinks from the table lucid.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, staring down at Jimin, knife in his hand. “Go outside and warm up the car. You’ll drive because you have the steadiest hands besides me.”

You and Jin and Hobi are silent, everyone just watches namjoon for a second. Yoongi hesitates, turning back in the doorway. "Do it from behind that way Jimin can say he didn't see who stabbed him."

Namjoon nods, looking down.

There is Jimin’s blood on the doorknob and the floor. You wonder who’s going to clean it up.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, and your mate starts, running out the door, leaving it open so that the cold can slip in. Namjoon’s hand tightens on the knife.

Jimin grins up at him from the table, eyelashes fluttering.

"Do it."

~-~

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Notes:

the line "A faceless god, if you’re going to take so much from him- the least you can do is give me this." is a call back to a line all the way in the beginning of the series where tae writes "the least you could have done was leave me whole" about yoongi.

the beginning feels a little drawn out but honestly i feel like it's such a traumatizing moment that it makes sense. the beginning was one of those cases that i read it so many times i can't tell if its ass or gas- so it's up for you to decide. i like the later parts of the chapter a lot better.

All things said, hobi is taking this incredibly well.

I was such a sleepy bunny editing this this morning! i'm sorry if there are more errors than usual.

ooh they fighting~ this might be a little bit of a /oh shit/ confession- but i greatly belived that the m/c would have killed jin had she thought that he was actually trying to kill jimin for being involved with the mafia like- one wrong move on his part and she might have shot him. they're gonna forget about it and nothing will change between them but god- that moment where he comes around the corner could have gone so bad if she was a little more trigger happy.

honestly i started to hate this chapter halfway through editing it, if there was ever one that i needed you to show love to its this one god 😮‍💨 i never thought i'd feel out of practice writing this sort of thing.

are the funny parts out of place? do they break up the terror too much or just the right amount?

I cannot take credit for the methodology behind how they hide jimin's bullet wound. i will confess this is copied from an episode of Elementary- ie the american version of sherlock. i tried to look it up if you could possibly conceal bullet wounds this way and didn't find anything so you're just gonna have to trust me.

[4dtk]

have this absolute shameless drabble of sugar daddy gojo that i wrote in between requests. my fingers have never typed so fast im sorry this is literally self-indulgent at this point ARJGJFFJ.

disclaimer i honestly can't see anyone calling gojo daddy but just for this fic..... ill allow it..... and also bc sugar daddy gojo is just always residing in my mind. did you see how he transferred 10 mil to mei mei!!!!! i will never shut the fuck up about that scene. pls spoil me <3

warnings: praise, public sex, sugar daddy/sugar baby relations, breeding kink, pet names

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI

sugar daddy!gojo pushes you up against the window of the store, visible for everyone to see you getting fucked senseless. in the gucci store four floors up, it could work both ways. fortunate to be so high up, although people would be getting a treat if they happened to look up.

“you know what you’re doing, baby?” he grunts, hips rocking into your soaked pussy as the staff outside try to ignore the lewd noises coming from behind the curtains.

it was supposed to be a simple trip: get a dress for gojo’s event in a few weeks and get out. with a tight arm wrapped around his, you followed him around like a starstruck puppy, the edges of your lips curled up knowing he’d treat you a million times over if you just asked for it.

gojo wasn’t any different, either. sure, he’s had sugar babies in the past, but not quite like you who’s so easy to please and spoil, knowing you could never say no even if your life depended on it. with your desperate listing for the requirement of monetary assistance, gojo couldn’t resist taking up the offer.

he just hadn’t expected you to be so… pliant. you had taken it like a good little bitch, too, moaning out for everyone to hear because you liked it like that.

“you’re taking my cock so well, princess,” gojo muttered out, lips nibbling on your ear as he continued to pound you. his grin that you feel against your skin plagues your mind, wanting nothing more than to see how he enjoys ruining you.

the catchy, upbeat pop song playing above you seemed to provide some rhythm, the sultry lyrics fuelling you further.

"so needy that i had to buy out the whole store for an hour, huh?" the male slows his pace, delivering deep thrusts into your cunt with the precision of an expert.

all you can reply are in little pants, sentences incoherent from how deep his cock is in you.

"i don't even think an hour is enough to satisfy my pretty little girl, isn't that right?" gojo picks up the speed again, and you're brought back to the many times he's fucked over his counter, washing machine. to the times where he's eaten you out on his office table and in his sheets of his king-sized.

and now, you've got another memory locked away for nights full of loneliness and soaked underwear when gojo's just too busy for you.

a tongue to your nipples and a hand to your clit makes you choke out a moan, writhing against the glass just to feel more of gojo, more of his cock and more of his lips on your neck.

you're struggling to keep yourself up, finding the right time in between muffled moans and whimpers to ask for one more wish.

"daddy... p-please, i wanna see your-"

"what, baby? repeat it for me." goddamn, the man had no problem articulating his words, how much had he fucked you already?

clearly not enough if you're still able to speak.

"w-wanna see your face when you fuck me deep, daddy!"

your wish is taken away when you're already creaming all over gojo as your hot breath creates fog on the glass in a silent scream.

"aw, you're cumming so hard baby~ you didn't even get to see me yet," he coos, enjoying the gush of your juices that coat his dick and your thighs. everything feels sticky and dirty, but you don't hesitate to beg for one more fuck with your eyes.

gojo catches your drift immediately, hips twitching from the idea of pumping you full of his cum. after all, he hasn't come yet.

he grunts at the time with a quick glance to the clock above your head. without wasting any more time, he flips you over, the restraint to cum slowly reaching its limit with your lolling tongue and fucked-out face.

the male doesn't bother to hide the deep groan that rips from his throat when he drags his dick along your folds, strings of both your juices stretching out in a way that hypnotises gojo.

"n-need your cock, daddy! please!" you whine, grinding your hips against the tip to make sure gojo knows of your desperation. that he's the only one to fuck you so good that no one else can satisfy you.

he smiles knowingly before he sinks into you.

gojo knows that he's the only one that can make you feel this way as he picks up the tempo, hitting spots in you that you didn't know was physically possible.

gojo knows that he's the only one you call daddy shamelessly as he writes off his card to help you in your student debts and the sparkly dress you've been eyeing.

he could throw you away the second you're done with university, the second the media's off his ass about his love life but, the sweet, sweet moans spilling from your lips pull him back in every single time, eager to hear it for as long as your bank's empty and his is piled up with money.

"more! satoru, more, fuuuck..." you groan, shying away from the striking blues of his eyes the more he drinks in your current state.

he's barely holding on, not even minding the first name you called him. the short skirt he'd given you flipped up makes him go crazy, your panties moved to the side to receive the dressing room quickie you always wanted.

"you're so de..eep daddy! i need all your c-cum please...!" it's a mix between a whimper and a whine.

"yeah? 'course i am, baby. your pussy is sucking me in all the w-way," gojo's hips stutters at how you squirm in his tight grasp, locking eyes with him as yours fill with want. your pussy is throbbing, stretched out so much that you don't register the thumb playing with your clit.

"s' too much...! s' too much, d-daddy!"

"you're a good girl, aren't you?" the way you nod is pathetic, eyebrows knitted from being stuffed so full.

"pretty little thing- fuuck..." gojo's losing control himself, the way his balls slaps against your cunt resonates around the small space and nothing feels better than being inches deep in you.

you're a babbling mess by then, unable to even scream out as you cream his cock. with head thrown back, you're left frozen for a second as the orgasm washes over you and a violent shudders goes through your thighs.

"daddy has so much, s-shit- cum for you, doll," it isn't long before the other comes undone, a groan escaping his lips before he shoots his load deep into you.

your pussy is stained white from all the cum he's giving you, gasping from how much gojo is leaking into you.

"thank y-you, satoru..." you trembling has affected your voice, too, burying your head into gojo's neck while your body shivers from sensitivity.

"take all of it, baby," gojo whispers, the hand near your middle moves instantly to finger his cum back into you, fixing back your underwear over your pussy.

a cheeky giggle leaves your mouth as you untangle yourself from the embrace, welcoming a kiss from the man as he slowly begins to clean up himself.

"have you chosen a dress yet, sir?"

gojo's smile is mischievous, not missing the way your face flushes at having to face the embarrassed staff outside.

"we'll take everything, thanks," his eyes never leave you as he helps you off the changing room chair, tugging your body flush to his before leaving you with one more hungry kiss.

"you did so well for daddy, doll. i may just have to treat you tonight since you have a day off university tomorrow..."

even if it wasn't in the contract, gojo loved to spoil you, admiring your mettle when it comes to material items. although...

"you know what i mean," it's enchanting, the way his voice travels like silk, "i'll call in sick for work tomorrow, yeah?"

your mind goes to mush at what tonight might entail, losing all train of coherence when his hushed whisper of my baby's so cute reaches your ear.

in a second you're out of there, hand twined with his while you remain giddy with the thought of getting used by gojo until you reach your limit.

[mrsmaybank]

Daydreams - Professor!Reid x Student!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, HEAVY PETTING, SPANKING, FINGERING, DEGRADATION, UNPROTECTED SEX, AGE GAP, DADDY KINK

A/N: Holllaay shit. I am absolutely in love with Professor Reid and hate my father, so I couldn’t help myself. This is my first one-shot smut so I hope it doesn’t suck too badly. Enjoy my perversion EL O EL. Anyway, let me know if ya like it! 

Her little bambi eyes lit up in a way I knew I’d never be able to stop thinking about. The parting of her pouty lips made me want to press a big wet kiss on her mouth. But I couldn’t--She was a student. My student. My best student. Her elbows propped her up on the desk, curving her body so that my mind couldn’t go anywhere but daydreams of her in that same position grabbing onto bed sheets and mewling in submission. 

Our relationship didn’t extend past that, I was her teacher and she was my daydream. My latest vice had become mixing memories with self-tortourus fantasies. Fantasies where she sat naked on my lap, whimpering at my touch. I would treat her like she was made of glass and gold, light and then harsh, hot and then cold, loving and only then fucking. 

Today was the last day of the semester, she’d passed with flying colors and I had expected no less. I congratulated the class, but couldn’t help but say a couple extra words. 

“Special congratulations to the top scorer on the final. Miss, Y/N Y/L/N.”

Her eyes widened in excitement and then lowered in a façade of shyness, “Thank you sir.” 

“You went above and beyond this semester.” Her eyes met mine for the longest they ever had, 

“I’m proud of you.” Something about the way her shy smile had turned into a coquettish grin made me swallow hard, but it wasn’t just that look. She knew what she was doing. She always did.

“Class dismissed! Drink responsibly!” I said as the class packed up their things, “And if you’re underage, don’t drink at all!” I sat back down, tired but relieved. However when I saw that little thing prancing to my desk, I had all the energy in the world. 

“Dr. Reid?” she asked. She batted her eyelashes and played with the necklace that adorned her chest.

“Yes, Y/n?” 

“I, uh, thank you. Everybody said freshman year was gonna be tough,” I smiled at her breathy words, she spoke so eloquently. Like an articulate angel. She was an absolute angel. 

“And it was” She laughed, “But your class really made it better. You’re a wonderful professor. I’ve learned so much.” 

Oh, little girl. There’s so much more I could teach you. 

“Thank you. I have a summertime internship opportunity if you’re interested. There’s limited places, and I think you’d be absolutely perfect.” The outspoken girls brief silence confused me, as she shifted in what couldn’t be described as anything but anticipation, “Professor, are you really proud of me?” She spit out. 

I was stunned, “Why wouldn’t I be? You're great.” 

“I’m a tease, sir. That’s not something I expected a man like you to be proud of.” 

I closed my eyes and smiled to open them back up again. This girl was trouble, no question. But this, this was the kind of trouble that was just begging to be punished.

“You think you’re a tease?” 

She nodded. And I indulged. I shouldn’t have and I knew it. But she was a sweet peach, and I was just tall enough to rip her from her stem and consume her like it was the last fruit on earth. “Sweet girl.” I noticed her thighs squeezing together and the blown out black of her pupils. She wanted this just as bad as I did. “C’mere.” I turned my seat away from the desk. 

Like I knew she would, she obeyed and she sat on my lap. Her head immediately fell into my chest and she looked up at me. “You love to learn don’t you?” I asked her. She nodded, and I wanted nothing more than to take her right then. But I’d waited for this moment too long to do it in such haste. “I love to teach.” 

I kissed her neck like the sweet skin was on fire, light and quick but tender and wet. Her breath rose and fell harder each second my calloused hand got closer to the hem of her skirt, a skirt that was a couple inches too short for her own good.  Everything about her was like a pure poison, a tease for no reason. She knew she could’ve had me whenever she wanted, and yet like the coy and clever girl she was, waited. She waited knowing the longer she did, the more my infatuation with her would grow, and all the better the loving would be.  

My hands' slow descent up her skirt ended at the lace trim of her panties, where I traced the band west and east, watching her breath hitch as every time I trailed back slightly closer to her core. When I finally reached her center, dipping my fingers into her panties I was met with exactly what was expected. Soaking wetness and a whine. I couldn’t stop the chuckle that left me if I tried. I adjusted her so she sat perfectly, arms on my shoulders and legs spread, back to the wall and face to me. 

“Hey, sweet girl.” She rocked herself on my fingers, begging for them to just make their way inside. 

“Dr. Reid, ple-” 

I shoved two fingers inside of her more forcefully then I intended to, although the girl didn’t complain. She screamed. How responsive. 

I continued to stroke her insides, dipping my other hand into her skirt so I could use it to rub circles on her crescent. She was a star on the stage of my lap, and my gaze never left the sight of her gorgeous face contorting in desperation as adorable whimpers fell every time my fingers curled.

“Is it everything you imagined?” She asked. I was slightly taken a back, “F-fuck. Is it Daddy?” I slipped another finger in to shut her up but it didn’t work. “You’ve always wanted to, right? Hold me down and fuck me till I cry.” My fingers sped up and her walls clenched around me, clasping and gripping my fingers, and cries left her pouty little mouth. She had just come all over my fingers and was taunting me with my desperation. What the fuck. 

“Is that what you want?” 

“Hmm,” she giggled, “Please.” 

I shoved her off me to bend her over the wood of my desk.

I flipped her skirt up for a better look at the adorable little behind my sweet girl had. 

“Adorable. So adorable.” I slapped it hard, wanting nothing more than to see the red it would leave in its wake. 

A guttural moan left her mouth, “Shit!” 

“Aw, what’s up little girl? Is it not what you imagined? You’ve always wanted it, hm?” I spanked her again, harder. She whimpered slightly, clearly holding back whatever sounds the action were provoking. “Bent over my desk and being hit?” I hit her again, and she screamed this time. “Or did you think I’d just fuck you right away? “ The room echoed with two sounds, my hand slapping the skin of her ass, and the whine from her that always followed, “Hm? I didn’t hear you sweet pea.” I hit her twice then, as she finally submitted, “Daddy, please!” 

“What’d you want babe?”

“Please, fuck me.” 

I dragged the tiny piece of cotton that had now been soaked off her, preparing to gag her with them. 

“You being loud is not gonna cost me my career.” 

“Wait!” I stopped in my tracks, 

“I’m on the pill. Just so you know.” 

I smiled, “Okay.” Shoving the panties in her cute little mouth as she nodded eagerly in understanding. 

I unzipped my pants, finally freeing myself from the tightness that had me painfully strained. 

I gently made my way so my tip was at her entrance, as she wiggled into me, 

“Desperate little slut.” She moaned against her own fabric. 

I grabbed her by the waist to shove her into me, my cock hitting the back of her walls as she cried, I couldn’t fathom the pleasure that every nerve in my body was feeling. “You’re so tight. So wet..” I pounded into her with all the strength I had in the world. Each thrust eliciting a muffled moan or whimper or sob that just urged me to go in again harder. I grabbed and pushed her propped elbows down, so I had a hand on the back of  her neck, holding her down exactly like she said I wanted to. She was right. I did. “This is what we both wanted, huh?” 

“Little girl” I started, my thrusts into her beginning to get sloppier as her cries got louder, my voice was coarse, “Pretty little girl. You like this?” Between messy sobs of pleasure, she got out a pathetic little mewl of “Yes.” I snaked a hand around to pull her up and look her in the eyes and press a sweet kiss to her forehead before ripping the panties from her mouth and roughly pressing her back down on the desk. “I wanna hear you.” I fucked her with a passion I hadn’t ever in my life.

Her walls gripped me tighter then I thought was possible, and I knew the end was near. “Daddy.” She panted, ‘G’nna c-cum.” I ignored it “Aw. Pretty girl, you can wait for Daddy, can’t you?” 

“No!” she wined, “Please, just let me-Fuck! Daddy,” she sobbed, “Please.” My thrusts were getting rougher, messier, better. “Come.” I ordered. Her walls began to convulse and flutter, physically begging for me to join her. I got faster, fucking her as she came, lost in her pretty moans and gripping pussy. She bounced with my thrusts, sobbing as she said, “Cum, daddy, please.” The rapid pace stopped as those words left her mouth, I came into her as deep as possible, feeling her twitch as my sticky release coated her. Pulling out, I flipped her around to kiss her sweetly. She giggled into the kiss and looked at me in a way I’d remember forever. 

“Thank you, professor.” 

“Yeah little girl, anytime.” I began to help her clean up.

She lit up, “You mean that?” 

I nodded and helped her sit up, “Oh, yeah I do.” 

[buckysboobs]

Sebastian is so eloquent and smart when he gets enough to time to speak his mind. I feel like these type of long podcasts or interviews bring out his thoughts the best because he’s not time bound. I hate those “all 4 of you have 10 minutes to speak and say something smart, go” so seb goes “uhhh i never had a tattoo on my body i guess” not because he doesn’t have anything else to say but because they don’t want smart, long, eloquent answers. They want headlines in such settings and he gives them what they want. This backstage podcast was a testament of his craftsmanship, this man LOVES acting. Im not even an actor and i felt like his advises were all so helpful, the birds eye view advise, work your day into it, its not personal, how you should catch someone’s essence rather than mimic them, the whole thing about social media and the acting world and how its hard for actors to stand out now… its all so true and omg the part about narcissistic method actors who are “vommitting all over the place” 😭😭😭😭 he’s sooooooo i wanna kiss his brain

i agree with this, sebastian is the kind of person who usually communicates better when he's formulated his sentences and thoughts properly before speaking, which is why it's usually in short interviews where he says something that could get him in trouble or very simple and short, he puts out one liners when he starts getting bored of repetitive questions because that's how interviewers are, there's a cycle of them asking about how he felt after his transformation, if he wants tattoos, his thoughts on playing drums, the purpose behind pam and tommy, his thoughts on tom holland or nwh, bucky's future and mark hamill. that's all they ask and you can see when he gets tired so he repeats his answers or ends up saying something questionable.

it is in interviews like these where he has time and is asked in depth questions about how he feels about acting, his past, his honest thoughts on different aspects of the job and his experiences. he gives smart answers to smart questions, that's his thing. we already know and even he has mentioned that interviewers asking dumb or repetitive questions pisses him off, we've got many instances of it too. so if you ask him good questions, he'd give you a good answer. i love that about him, giving him time and a platform to properly put out his thoughts in an articulate manner is the way to go, that's why i adore interviews like these. hot ones, this podcast, his gossip girl podcast, that hour long interview with josh for i tonya, those are some of my favourites because they ask him proper questions and genuinely look into his career. they're not solely limited to asking him about bucky and moving on with it, and that's why i appreciate interviewers who take their time to research him and he does too.

he's truly passionate about his job, and when he talks in interviews like these is when you realize how experienced he is, how much he's grown, how much he knows, how smart he actually is. he's a very well read and modest person, and he gives out great advice. he's honest and he doesn't hold back from talking about the mistakes he made himself, he gives credit where it's due (and even more so actually!) and he knows his craft. that's why i also really appreciate how much he's spoken about not letting yourself take things too personally and how you should never lose yourself in a way where you become a problem for other people. it's really refreshing to keep up with someone who is so passionate and real about what he does.

[redxblueihateloveyou]

Hey i really love your blog!!! I just plucked the courage to actually send u an ask fhdjhd but GOSH i love your video edits and your gifs and your meta article posts, you're so articulate and you can explain/describe moments in a way that makes me go "oh wow, i cant believe i haven't seen it that way before!!" Haha ANYWAYS i'm just here to say that i completely agree with what all u said, Free creators might do a lil fanservice here and there for the 25 ships that exists within the fandom's circle, but rinharu's storyline is clearly the most romantic one! And i'd argue it's the one closest to being canon esp after part 1, i mean the fact that they put such an explosive emotional outburst right at the end of the second to the last movie means a lot. It's like reinforcing the fact that this series has always been about them, and everything that has happened only happened either because they met or they grew appart and miss eachother. I kinda feel like maybe.. juust maayyybe there's a chance KA wants to make the ship canon, since it's the last movie and they want to end it on a highnote maybe (bcs honestly i think the only reason they've been holding back is purely bcs of the merch sales, since they don't have a problem showing a wholesome lesbian love story in kobayashi maid dragon) butt i could be wrong, maybe i'm just overly optimistic and delusional, they could somehow ruin it and give an ending that panders to all the ships again 😅🥲, but at least there's a clear-cut guarantee that part 2 would dedicate a large portion of it fixing rin and haru's fight!!! Oohh how can i wait another 6 months now!!😭😭 (sorry for the long ask btw!! 🙏🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️)

OMG thank you so so much!! For watching my vids too! ❤️❤️❤️ It really means a lot to me! Ahhhh wow, thats the longest ask I've ever recieved! 😍 I'm trying to explain myself so hard lol I'm glad its appreciated, bc sometimes I'm like "I don't fucking know how to say this" xD

Well, you know me, I only care for one ship, which is the only one with confirmed info that they're both actually gay and have mutual feelings for each other. There are some other ships in free! I'm fine with (those do not include Rin or Haru in them xD), but I just mostly don't care, bc after reading all the stuff, you can see that in some of those to one the other one is actually like his second option, which I just do not like. Others I just don't even see, bc again to me who witnessed great close male friendships and having two sisters who I'm very close to, I just do not see anything romantic in that.

It's not just Free! tbh, it's like any sports anime these days. They see two guys walking together, it's a ship. And like no one cares if they're just bros. Like I'd get i they did some fanservice fanservice, but like I never saw anyone in Free! crossing the line the way rinharu do. I can without thinking much name you 10 rh moments that no matter how hard you think can't be explain as being bros, but can't name one when it comes to others. I just find some ppl shipping everyone with everyone weird sometimes. It's like western fans see like some eastern actors or singers slap each other ass lovingly and they're like "oh they're fucking" I'm like "yeah, ofc all 500 of them, you're absolutely right". And Free! doesn't do anything even like that, I just do not get sometimes like what moment even brought on some ships. I'm genuinely confused. Albert and Haru? You fucking fell from a sakura tree or smth? I'm...

I'm especially confused when it comes to guys, whose character type is who I call "I only want this one and if I can't have it, then I'm ok" xD. It just always surprised me, when they try to pair up them with someone else, it's like a complete ooc.

I'm also not into this whole "well, if there are gays in this anime, than everyone there is gay". I'm like... huh. It's like with KNB and MDZS I had same feeling. It's like you have already couples there who are canon/borderline canon, why do you need another 10 who don't even interact or just don't even go there? I'm always so confused in those situations. Or like wangxian is married and some are like "no, I actually don't like it, let me write a fic when they're with other ppl". Lan Zhan... being in love or having sex with someone else? Yeah, that's not Lan Zhan, dude, you're writing about someone else. Might as well change the name at this point.

But last time I went to twitter someone had a thread about how if they make s4 of Free! they should mainly explore there Momo's angst (and no, it wasn't a joke), so I'm already like, I'm just.. nothing will surprise me no more. But I'm forever gonna be confused.

Yeah, I eel you about "going there". I mean seeing part of it, it just kinda cemented my confusion, bc I do not get how it can be considered platonic. We were just discussing since yesterday with @freeseafirefly how I now even more perplexed and do not understand how they will resolve it without going into relationship territory. It's just our point here is that like... no one forced them to go there (I mean its not like this whole fandom has some wild expectations or anything already), we were waiting or our usual friendship and swimming and maybe tiny conflict about struggles of pro-careers and some usual rh implications (maybe all the rh gay in dramas as always). Not some pure fanfiction coming to life here haha.

Like why I'm laughing is bc I twice used in my "fics" bringing up him leaving Haru as a force to push the confession, bc there's no way if he adresses this it won't lead to this. And now we not only have this (bc Haru just basically layed it out there), but an actual scene of him playing on their feelings for each other and a literal image of Rin leaving and "taking Haru's heart with him" to the point when he's for the first time in his life openly crying on the ground. And it's not like this scene can be interpreted as anything else, the whole fandom talks same, bc the whole fight was just about them, what Haru said was just about them, there's a literal boom of his heart getting out of his chest, before he falls and now he's heartless.

So our question is like... why go there?

It's like some say that they might still resolve it with "they're special to each other" and swimming, but still like we already knew that, there was no reason to go that far is what I'm saying. And to think that it was planned since forever giving the clues is like... ???

The whole spoon theme also throw me on the loop because like, lets be honest, it's wedding themed. And that part of the interview about part 2 there also made me go...?????? Because I mean, huh?

This is just all in all very interesting turn of events to say the least. I do not see the point of all of this if its not what I think it is, esp after seeing tweets like "even I see a rh wedding and I'm mh T_T". It's just all very unsubtle, that's why we're confused.

Like who knows, maybe we'll really by some magic turn of events get lucky and they really decided that since its the ending, it's okay to go for it. But I also don't wanna to hype myself much, I'm already really happy with it, just bc again, this scene already proves all of my points.

And yeah, I'm sure they'll pander to everyone, bc it's the end and etc and we have to handle everything on the good note and there's a whole line of ppl who's obsessed with us, esp with Haru xD, but like bromance pandering and romance pandering are different things, you know *wiggles eyebrows* and u know who always gets the second one.

[iamnotawomanimagod]

If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power - A Reluctant Ranking of Every Track

Disclaimer: This entire album is incredible, truly no skips, and I also think it’s an album that is hard to separate into individual tracks, because it all goes so well together. But I still wanted to try! This is just my personal opinion, and it’s subject to change. (Also I surprised myself. And I bet I’ll change my mind by tonight.)

Please feel free to do your own and tag me in it!! I wanna see!!

13. Girl is a Gun

It’s not that I dislike this song, it’s just a sound that I didn’t expect on this album. I think it would’ve fit in better on Manic. I don’t love how it kind of just repeats over and over again, especially on an album so full of complex, intricate lyrics. But it’s a really upbeat, sexy song and I bet it’s going to be so fun live.

Favorite lyric: 

Time is a blessin', to me, it's a lesson And I can't be stressin' to give you attention 'Cause, oh, it's never enough, so I'm givin' you up And you'll be better with a nice girl, darlin'

12. Lilith

Similar to “Girl is a Gun,” I simply wasn’t expecting this kind of sound on this album - could’ve seen it on Hopeless Fountain Kingdom though! The bass is amazing and I love the rhythm.

Favorite lyric:

You know I get too caught up in a moment I can't call it love if I show it I just fuck things up, if you noticed Have you noticed? Tell me have you noticed?

11. Darling

This song is so sweet and charming, especially if you compare it to “More,” which I think it acts as a sort of sequel to. Something about the melody hits me just a little wrong. When they start singing, I can’t help but hear the verses of “Hopeless.” That might’ve been intentional, but I can’t get past it to hear this song as its own thing.

Favorite lyric:

Never knew the feeling of a stable home Been a couple years of living on the road Couldn't really tell you where they'd leave a stone To visit me when I am dead and gone

10. The Tradition

I love the haunting piano and vocals. It feels like a song that was written for the film specifically. (Was it even in the film, lol?) I really love the sound of it, but the lyrics don’t do very much for me.

Favorite lyric:

And I hope what's left will last all summer long And they said that, "Boys were boys", but they were wrong

9. The Lighthouse

This song reminds me the most of a Nine Inch Nails song - fitting that Trent Reznor provides backing vocals on the final verse. I love the grimy guitars, and and discordant beat, and the way it builds up. The melody is cool and liquid. The final verse really feels like waves crashing. It’s a well-written song that really shows off Halsey’s alternative side.

Favorite lyric:

Well, that should teach a man to mess with me He was never seen again And I'm still wandering the beach And I'm glad I met the devil 'Cause he showed me I was weak And a little piece of him is in a little piece of me

8.  Ya’aburnee

This song makes me really emotional. It makes me think of all the people I love the most and it makes me want to cherish my time with them even more. That’s an incredible feeling for an artist to create. It’s such a bittersweet song. I wanna cry but it also makes me smile.

Favorite lyric:

But what's worse? Telling you my feelings or to die without revealing That you crawled inside my head and set a fire there, instead Letting all my insecurity Devour me with certainty

7. honey

If you’ve ever felt this way for someone, this song stings in the best way possible. I love the rhythm and the drums and the guitars - this is peak pop punk and Halsey fits right in. I love the honey imagery, especially that she included some imagery about bees and the way honey clings.

Favorite lyric:

And now she's impatient and I'm complacent With just a little taste of wasting time Looking for honey But she stings like she means it She's mean and she's mine

6. 1121

Now this is the sound I expected from this album. Cinematic, dark, dramatic. The piano is so haunting and so beautiful. It evokes so much imagery through sound alone, even with the lyrics being relatively simple. And their voice is so incredible. The song overall reminds me a lot of Evanescence, which is high praise. And I really appreciate the “self-loathing in love” theme, I can relate to it a lot. I’ve already been singing the chorus at the top of my lungs whenever I play this song.

Favorite lyric:

Take one in the temple My tongue is a vessel I try to be careful with The thing inside my chest You shoot for the memory So you can forget me I'd leave if you let me, oh

5. Bells in Santa Fe

Ever since we heard a snippet of this song in the first film trailer, I’ve been desperate to hear the rest of it. It didn’t disappoint. I love her lower register vocals, the tinkling piano and the frantic rhythm. And I relate too much to the message of the song - loving someone so much but refusing to accept that they want forever with you, insisting that they’re better off without you, warning them that you could slip away at any moment. It hits me where I live.

Favorite lyric:

Jesus needed a three day weekend To sort out all his bullshit, figure out the treason I've been searching for a fortified defense Four to five reasons But, Jesus, you've got better lips than Judas I could keep your bed warm, otherwise I'm useless I don't really mean it, 'cause who the fuck would choose this?

4. I am not a woman, I’m a god

This song fucks. Claiming their power to create life - recognizing that as godly and divine, while also insisting this is not a power that makes them a woman. I can’t wait for it to become a smash hit and for people to be singing about a nonbinary/trans experience without even knowing it. I honestly have trouble even articulating why this song is so awesome, it just is. I’m pumped every time I hear it.

Favorite lyric:

Oh, I just wanna feel something, tell me where to go 'Cause everybody knows something I don't wanna know So I'll stay right here cause I'm better all alone Yeah, I'm better all alone

3. You asked for this

I really like the 90s alternative sound of this one, it reminds me of Alanis Morrissette and certain No Doubt songs. I think it’s a very realistic depiction of how settling down in life can be very bittersweet, and the things that we ask for are sometimes not what they seem to be. But we also come to realize that settling is a part of growing up. Still, Halsey sings about wanting everything, knowing there are contradictions in that. The chorus is fun and easy to sing to, and the final verse is so amazing.

Favorite lyric:

I want a beautiful boy's despondent laughter I want to ruin all my plans I want a fist around my throat I want to cry so hard I choke I want everything I asked for

2. Whispers

This one hits hard, but god, it’s so good. The way they whisper certain phrases. The simple piano under the first verse, the way it becomes more complex, the way the beat comes in. You want to dance and cry at the same time. The lyrics - I know so many of us can relate to them. The themes of self-sabotage and self-loathing are so strong in this album, which definitely hits me right in the chest.

Favorite lyric:

I've got a monster inside me That eats personality types She is constantly changing her mind on the daily Think that she hates me I'm feeling it lately Might have to trick her and treat her To 70 capsules or fly to a castle So at least we could say that we died being traveled

1. Easier than Lying

I’ve had this one on repeat since the album came out, and that surprised me at first, but god, this song is addictive. The crunchy guitar at the beginning, the driving rhythm, the way her voice contrasts with that. The scream-singing on the chorus. It’s the kind of song you want to drive way too fast to. The bridge!! Aaah! It’s just so badass and listening to it now gets me too hyped!! Also the way it can kind of be seen as a sequel to “Lie,” - the growth of going “if you don’t love me no more, then lie” to “losing you is easier than lying to myself” is so meaningful and so empowering.

My heart is massive but it's empty A permanent part of me, that innocent artery Is gasping for some real attention Some undivided hypertension I tell it "quiet down, you're being loud" But it beats harder every time you come around But do you love the sound?

I’m gonna tag some mutuals, just to share, and also to see if anyone else wants to do this! Also you don’t need to go as in-depth as I did if that’s intimidating or too much, I’m just wordy.

@demonzplay @easiersthanlying @ttpane @yoursalwaysleo @anarkyandmadness @feelingsiwontforget @tolerateit @tommyhardyx @elysiems @imacreepygirl @finallybeautifulstranger @inthenameofloveforthesakeofpower and I know I’m forgetting some folks, I’m sorry! Please feel free to steal this and also tag me in yours!

[qitwrites]

growing pains 

Fandom: Boku no hero academia 

There’s an absolutely atrocious, disgustingly gooey feeling curling around Bakugou’s chest.

He wonders if Recovery girl has any medicine for feels.

OR

5 times the Bakusquad tells Bakugou they love him + the one time he says it back

(AO3)

Ashido is many things. Book smart isn’t one of them.

No really, she’s got so much going for her with her dancing, her strength, her versatile quirk, her perky attitude and even her distinctive appearance, but she’s not one for the books. She doesn’t like them, and they clearly don’t like her back.

Her grades thoroughly reflect this hate-hate relationship.

Ashido tries though, she really does- even if it’s just cramming a few days before the exams, she tries to study. Yao-momo had even gone out of her way to help, but it just doesn’t do the trick. She knows she needs to get her act together and figure this out because she can’t be a hero with a failing grade, and the anxiety and fear starts taking its toll, leaving her restless and upset.

So, when Bakugou sees the pink-haired, pink-skinned pain-in-the ass sulking in the common room, he’s horrified by the words that leave his mouth-

‘Want my help?’

Ashido doesn’t even glance at him at first, choosing to stare at the wall forlornly. She slowly looks up to catch his eye, looks around, realizes that they’re all alone, snaps her eyes back to his and her jaw drops.

‘Me?’ She points a finger at herself. ‘You’ll tutor me?’

‘What did I just say dumbass?’

‘I just- BAKUBRO, THANK YOU!’

‘Shut the fuck up and get your shit. We’ve got our work cut out for us. And raccoon eyes?’

Ashido turns to look at him, eyes bright and shiny.

‘Tell anyone about this and I’ll kick your ass.’

Ashido beams. ‘It’ll be our little secret!’

To her credit, he sees her try. She’s distracted and constantly jumping up and down, too jittery to be in one place, but she also pushes herself to focus, to really absorb the material. Bakugou’s rough with her, the way he is with Kirishima, but he’s generous with the praise too, or as generous as he’s capable of being. It makes him feel all kinds of gross, disgustingly soft and gooey things when Ashido’s eyes go warm with pride when he pays her the smallest compliment.

They work hard for the two weeks leading up to the exams. Kirishima joins them for every session in addition to the stuff he does with Bakugou separately, and between the three of them, they manage to cover most of the syllabus quite thoroughly.

The day before the exam, Bakugou sees the nerves rolling off Ashido.

‘Oye!’

She flinches and turns to look at him, throwing him a sheepish smile. ‘Yes, Blasty?’

He bristles at the nickname but recognizes that there’s no malice, no intention to mock, nothing really- just a nickname meant for a friend. She isn’t provoking him- she’s just nervous and falling back on old, comfortable habits.

He grunts, ‘You nervous?’

Ashido chuckles. ‘Course I am! Don’t wanna let you down, you know?’

Bakugou smacks her lightly on the head with a roll of practice sheets.

‘Who do you think tutored you? Don’t underestimate our sessions. Get in there and fucking obliterate those stupid tests.’

Ashido’s smile grows more confident, and she gives him a huge thumbs up, bumps hips with Kirishima and jogs over to her seat. The bell rings, and the exams begin.

The tests are not bad. Bakugou notes that a good majority of the papers contain material that he’s covered with the two properly, and works his way through the problems, the equations, the literature, all of it. In the very back of his mind, in a place he barely refuses to acknowledge, he hopes that they’re doing ok.

A week after their final exams, Bakugou is walking back from the training centre when he sees a ball of pink approaching him at an alarming speed.

‘BAKUBRO!’ Mina hollers, arms raised over her head as she outright sprints at him.

Bakugou furrows his brow, chest expanding as he gets ready to yell at her when she interrupts him-

‘I passed EVERYTHING!’ Her smile is humungous, wide and warm and genuine to its core. ‘AND I ACTUALLY DID WELL!’

Bakugou doesn’t even realize he’s smiling back, that feral, triumphant grin he has when he beats someone during training or takes down a villain. He’s proud of himself, and he realizes, with a surprising amount of acceptance, that he’s proud of her too. Really damn proud.

He’s a bit slow to realize that she hasn’t stopped barreling towards him though.

‘RACCOON EYES, DON’T YOU DA-‘

Ashido collides right into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Bakugou curses the entire way, but Ashido out-laughs him, her body shaking with joy.

‘Thank you!’ She beams down at him, pulling him into a warm hug. ‘You have no idea what this means to me.’

Bakugou wants to push her off, wants to stand up, spew out some curses and stomp away, back to his room.

But he’s also proud. He’s also happy for her. He’s also glad she did ok. That she worked hard and was determined to make him proud and that she isn’t going to get held back or expelled or something.

So, he blames it on the summer heat when he not only doesn’t push her off but rests a hand on her shoulder, gives her a quick pat, counts to 10 and THEN shoves her away.

Ashido pulls off easily enough, still laughing. She bounces back to her feet, dusts off her track pants and offers him her hand. The blonde looks at it, huffs, and takes it with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Ashido yanks him to his feet with a strong, firm grip and her eyes go soft and warm and radiant.

‘Thanks again, Bakugou.’

‘Tch, whatever. Fuck off.’

Ashido giggles. Her phone suddenly starts ringing and she pulls it out of her pant pocket.

‘Oh, it’s my parents, I gotta take this!’ She starts walking back to the dorms. ‘Let’s go out this weekend, get some food at the mall. My treat!’

‘I don’t want to fucking do-‘

‘Bye babe. Love you!’ And with that, she’s gone, her laugh echoing around the courtyard.

There’s an absolutely atrocious, disgustingly gooey feeling curling around Bakugou’s chest.

He wonders if Recovery girl has any medicine for feels.

---

Bakugou knows for a fact that Sero is 90% memes and 10% tape.

He has no scientific evidence to back up this claim of course, but he’s definitely right.  

The thing about Sero is that the longer you spend time around him, the more you can appreciate his stupid sense of humour, his great taste in mangas, and his ability to make the people around him smile.

Bakugou hates him completely, or so he tells himself. There’s no scientific evidence to prove on the contrary either, thank god.

So, with his shitty sense of humour and his easy-going nature, it’s natural to find Sero with a smile on his face. Not the kind of sunshine happiness that Kirishima has, but more of a mellow, easy joy. His body language exudes a relaxed vibe, immediately making the people around him lower their guard, and he shares a love for healthy food with Bakugou, earning him the blonde’s begrudging respect.

Bakugou finds the tape hero sitting at the kitchen island on a Tuesday night. It’s past Bakguou’s bedtime, but he’s hungry enough to warrant a midnight snack, though he’s not expecting any company. Turns out, neither is Sero.

‘Oh, hey.’

Immediately, Bakugou’s shackles are up. Because Sero isn’t smiling. He isn’t teasing him, there’s no humorous lilt in his voice, no mischievous glint in his eyes, nothing. He’s hollow almost, his skin pale and his eyes sunken in. Even his breathing seems off, too fast and too shallow all at once.

‘What are you doing up?’ Bakugou asks, quirking a brow.

‘Could ask you the same.’

Sero is barely looking at him. He has his phone in a vice-grip, and he looks like he’s going to throw up.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

Sero jolts at that, eyes darting all across the room, and he can’t seem to look at Bakugou. Can’t seem to sit still or calm down. Bakugou can taste his anxiety, and it’s making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He feels protectiveness - strong and vicious and ridiculously overpowering - all the way in his toes.

‘Nothing, ha, I’m fine.’

‘Tapeface, I’m not fucking blind. If you don’t want to fucking talk about it, fine. Just don’t lie to my face.’

Sero finally looks at him, and he looks lost and scared and helpless. Bakugou’s never seen him like this, and the protectiveness surges.

‘I- I didn’t expect anyone to be awake. I’m not sure, you know, how to talk about it. I don’t even know what to do.’

Bakugou grunts to show him he’s listening before turning around and slowly pulling things out of the fridge. He remembers Sero’s love for fruits and soy and all things healthy and decides to make some Mapo Tofu. Not because Sero will like it or anything, the blonde just really likes Mapo Tofu, ok?

Bakugou begins the task of pulling pots and pans out of the cabinets and gets to prepping the ingredients. He keeps himself busy and fills the space with the comforting sounds and smells of food because he is an expert at being unable to talk about his feelings. To articulate his thoughts sans anger and rage and panic. And he finds that it's easier, even if only a little, to talk when the focus isn’t just on you. When there’s stuff going on, when there are other focal points. It’s less scary.

‘My mom is getting surgery.’

Bakugou pauses in his movements. He stays still long enough to indicate to Sero that he’s listening but goes back to work so the focus is still on the food, so Sero will continue to speak. His voice is uncharacteristically soft and so pained, and something in Bakugou churns horribly. He works more softly, so he can hear everything.

‘She’s had medical issues all my life, so it’s nothing unexpected. She gets surgery pretty often, but it’s never any less scary.’

Bakugou can’t even imagine what that’s like, to have a parent regularly undergo medical treatment and surgical procedures.

‘It’s the first one since I got to the dorms. I’ve never been this far away, and I can’t-‘ Sero’s voice chokes. He breathes deeply and continues ‘-I can’t calm down. I begged them to let me come home but they refused, said I need to see this UA thing through, do my own thing, all that.’

Bakugou continues to cook. The kitchen smells warm and spicy, and the sound of sizzling spices saturates the space between them, and he thinks he can sense Sero calm down a little.

‘I get it. I do. They're right and logically, I can accept that. I just. Fuck, this is horrible.’

Bakugou doesn’t offer any words of comfort or advice because what does he know? He has no idea what Sero is going through, and anything he says might sound insincere or plain insensitive. So instead, he cooks. He cooks the meat, mixes in the spices, and tastes the broth. He works fast and efficient, his movements practised. When it’s done, he plates up two bowls, and sets one in front of Sero, taking the seat next to him. Sero’s at the head of the table, so Bakugou ends up on his right.

Sero stares at the bowl and then looks up at Bakugou.

‘Mom makes me Mapo Tofu when I’m upset,’ he grumbles by way of an explanation. The blonde proceeds to douse his serving in extra chilli oil and peppercorns because he made the overall dish at a much more tolerable spice level. NOT for Sero or anything, just because. You know. For the fuck of it.

Sero stares at the bowl of food silently before picking up the spoon.

‘I haven’t told the rest because I couldn’t find a way to talk about it.’

Before Bakugou can figure out a way to respond to that, Sero continues, ‘I’m glad you know, is not so bad to have someone to talk to. Or at, I guess.’

Sero digs in, and after the first bite, his eyes light up.

‘Holy fuck,’ he breathes, ‘this is so good.’

Bakugou smirks, digging into his own bowl and humming in agreement. It’s probably the best Tofu he’s made so far.

‘Shit man,’ Sero says in between big bites, ‘I freaking love this. And you. But mostly this. But also, you. Like 65-35? Maybe 60-40.’

The blonde snorts and Sero’s grin gets wider. They eat in relative silence, with the occasional comment from Sero and the sounds of them kicking each other playfully under the table. When they’re done, Bakugou rinses the bowls in the sink and joins Sero on the couch in front of the TV. It’s gotten ridiculously late, but he doesn’t want to leave him alone.

Sero rubs the back of his neck. ‘I uh, I don’t want to go to my room right now.’

Bakugou leans over the couch, grabs two throw blankets from a bin nearby and flings the yellow one at Sero.

‘Play that cool documentary on speedcubing,’ he barks out, tucking himself under his own red blanket. Sero gives him a wide-eyed look before navigating to the right piece on Netflix. He gets comfortable under the throw, and they fall asleep to the sound of people solving Rubix cubes at inhumane speeds.

Shoji finds them like that in the morning and gently shakes them awake. Sero’s phone has a message from his parents, telling him everything’s alright, and that’s the only reason Bakugou forgives him for gathering the blonde in a big, warm hug before the sun is even up.

He crawls into his own bed 5 minutes later, and his heart feels lighter than ever.

Maybe an antacid will help with all of these stupid, horrid feels.

---

Bakugou doesn’t like people.

As a general rule of thumb, he dislikes them almost instantly. People are loud. They’re invasive, annoying, clingy, and they never smell good.

People are also cruel and selfish and use you as they please.

Bakugou doesn’t like people; until he comes to UA.

Because the people in UA are loud, invasive, annoying, clingy, and never smell great either.

But they’re kind. They’re smart, driven, capable, funny. They work hard, they play hard, and they’re mostly selfless. They don’t flock to him simply because he’s got a great quirk or something. Truth be told, they’re all pretty formidable themselves. Grossly underdeveloped and years away from being at his level, but Bakugou knows that with time, all of his classmates will reach insane heights. They wouldn’t be in UA otherwise.

So Bakugou tries. Mostly because his stupid squad won’t leave him alone, but he tries.

When people hang out in the common rooms, he’s downstairs with them. If there’s a stupid Christmas party, or it's someone’s birthday, or the class wants to go out shopping or to play in the pool, Bakugou tags along with them more often than not.

There is a compromise though. With a social battery as small and easily drained as his, it isn’t uncommon for the class to find Bakugou chilling in a corner with his headphones in, simply taking in the vibe rather than actively participating. There’s no bad blood over this though- they kinda get it. Not everyone is as friendly or as vibrant as Kirishima or Kaminari. They’re honestly just glad he’s there at all, so they do their best to make sure he’s included while letting him set his own pace.

Bakugou’s in one of his recharging phases when he spots Jirou.

The earphone jack hero is wandering around, looking a little worse for wear. There are people from both 1A and 1B milling around, talking and laughing in the common areas, and the energy in the room is almost stifling. The blonde doesn’t miss the way Jirou covers her ears at one point.

From what he can tell, Jirou is an ambivert. She enjoys the company of others often, but she’s also perfectly fine being on her own, with a book and some music to keep her company. Right now, she seems exhausted, her own social battery running dangerously low.

Bakugou catches her eye. She gives him a small wave and he sticks his tongue out at her, pulling the skin under his eye down on one side. It’s petty and dumb, but he sees her huff a laugh and slowly meander towards him. Bakugou goes back to closing his eyes and tipping his head back, enjoying the familiar texture of the common room couch and the sound of the music in his ears drowning out everything else.

He feels the couch dip next to him, close but not too close. Jirou doesn’t touch him, doesn’t bother him, doesn’t shake or poke or otherwise engage him. She just sits there, stock-still.

When his eyes slip open again, Bakugou sees that she’s got her hands in her lap and she’s mimicking his posture, comfortably seated on the couch with her head tipped back. Her signature headphones are nowhere in sight though, and her eyes are open and red.

Distantly, Bakugou wonders if she’s forgotten them. That would suck ass- he’d be lost without his own pair. And Jirou’s relationship with music is on a level no one else can fathom- it’s literally part of her DNA, her quirk, her identity.

Bakugou isn’t sure what compels him to do it- maybe it’s because they both like bugging the hell out of Kaminari. Maybe it’s because Jirou is no-nonsense when it comes to hero work, which he can respect. Maybe it’s because, beneath all the teasing and smart-ass comments, Jirou has often looked out for him, advocating for the need for personal space when the idiot brigade drains him.

Whatever the reason, Bakugou finds himself pulling out his right earbud and holding it out for her, a silent invitation.

It takes maybe 4 seconds for him to feel the bud lifted gently from his fingers. Jirou is careful to not jar his own earbud when she adjusts his in her right ear, and Bakugou moves to raise the volume a little.

It is a bit annoying, yes, to have one ear open to the noise around them, but it’s not unbearable- far from it. He’s got some reggae on right now, a genre he indulges in when he needs to calm down and just relax his body.

When he turns to look at her, Jirou’s got a smile on her lips. Her feet are tapping to the beat effortlessly, and her fingers are mapping out the tune on an invisible fretboard. She opens her eyes and looks over at Bakugou, and her smile widens, crinkling the edges of her eyes.

Thank you, she mouths, flashing him another blinding smile. It makes Bakugou huff.

‘Whatever,’ he murmurs under his breath. The look in her eyes could not be mistaken for anything else- unadulterated gratitude and a heavy dose of love.

These gooey feelings are going to give him an upset stomach, Bakugou’s calling it right now.

---

Bakugou doesn’t even notice the pattern till Kirishima points it out to him.

It goes a little something like this- Bakugou feels off during training, or maybe doesn’t do as well as he’d expected on a test or project, or something just doesn’t go right. So naturally, he��s in a piss poor mood.

The squad’s antics don’t do much for him then, doesn’t really raise his spirits or anything, and he usually goes back to his room, slamming his door shut and pacing around like a caged tiger.

And that’s when his phone rings. The caller ID reads Pikachu.

‘What the fuck do you want?’

‘Bakubrooooooooo,’ Kaminari croons, and Bakugou wants to break something.

‘Fuck of-‘

‘You ever wonder if cereal is soup?’

All the fight drains out of Bakugou, leaving only confusion in its place. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, I mean, is cereal like a sub-category of soup or something? Wouldn’t that make sense?’

‘Dunce-face, what the fuck? That doesn’t even make sense? You don’t cook cereal?’

‘Yes, but you could eat it with a soup spoon. That should count for something.’

‘I hate you. So much.’

‘Aww, love you too bro. Ok, gotta go, byee~’

Bakugou stares at his phone, shocked and confused and annoyed.

But no longer angry. No longer pacing about, no longer in a foul mood.

Another time, after a particularly bad bout of training, ending with aching forearms and snarls of frustration because he needs to get better but it’s not happening fast enough, Bakugou wants nothing more than to scream into a pillow and maybe eat some hot sauce.

Again, he gets a call from Kaminari.

‘Wha-‘

‘Do you ever just think about pizza and cry?’

‘Huh?’

‘Yeah, I mean, I think humanity reached its peak when it invented pizza, you know? And that makes me cry. Such perfection.’ He can picture Kaminari making a chef’s kiss gesture, and it pisses him off.

‘This is why you called me? Are you fucking with me?’

‘It’s really an honest question Bakubro. Don’t you ever tremble at the sheer magnificence of pizza?’

‘Delete my number.’

‘No can do. Gotta go, love you, bye!’

And again, he’s gone, just as quickly as he arrived. And again, Bakugou is left feeling baffled and miffed but no longer angry, no longer itching to scream and claw and break something.

He still eats some hot sauce though.

Kirishima is with him after one of his bad days, sitting on his bed and trying to pacify him.

‘It’s ok, it-‘

‘Shut up, Shitty hair! Fuck-‘ His hands tremble with the need to just do something, vent somehow, to break the tension in his spine. He doesn’t want to snap at Kirishima, which is why he never lets him tag along when he stomps away to his room after a bad day, but the redhead can be ridiculously caring sometimes and Bakugou doesn’t want to hurt him.

He doesn’t know what else to do though.

‘Shit, I- you need to leave, get out before I-‘

His phone rings. Pikachu, it says.

‘Dunce-‘

‘I’ve decided that, in the event of an apocalypse, you and I are teaming up together.’

‘Wha-‘

‘I know you’d much rather team up with Kirishima, cause he’s so strong and handsome and he’s your best friend, but he’ll be fine. I, on the other hand, will die immediately. So, it’s just you and me Blasty.’

‘Fuck right off, why would I-‘

‘We could name ourselves the atomic blondes.’ Kaminari suddenly makes a whooping noise. ‘Damn, that’s perfect Bakugou! I gotta print tee shirts right now, we’d look amazing.’

‘I am not wearing anything that matches you, miss me with that shit.’

‘I promise it’ll be black, and like, soft, with skull patterns or something.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘I gotta go anyway, but you’re stuck with me Bakubro. Anyway, bye, love you!’

They end the call, or rather, Kaminari cuts it before Bakugou can get an insult or two in there, and when he looks back at Kirishima, he sees a big, goofy smile on his face.

‘What?’ he grumbles, tossing his phone on his bed.

‘He does that often?’

‘What, call me and say really random, really stupid shit? Yeah, all the damn time. I need to block his ass.’

‘Kinda sweet though, huh?’

Bakugou cocks his head. ‘What’re you talking about? It’s a fucking pain.’

‘Yeah, but you don’t seem as mad anymore.’

‘I-‘ And yet again, Bakugou is disgruntled and confused and irritated at himself, for getting swept up by Kaminari’s pace, but he’s not angry. All the fight has mostly bled out of his limbs, and he feels more or less normal if only a little on edge. Nothing too difficult to deal with.

‘Son of a bitch,’ Bakugou breathes. Kirishima’s smile is a tad wider, and he scoots over on the bed, making some space for Bakugou while he pulls out his laptop, ready to load up some shitty videos.

‘Tell him about this and I will never speak to you again,’ Bakugou grumbles finally, settling in next to Kirishima, leaning most of his weight into the redhead.

He feels Kirishima’s chest rumble with laughter.

‘Your secret’s safe with me.’

Bakugou wonders if anyone’s ever tried to harness the power of feels to run turbines or some shit, because this stuff’s turning out to be overwhelmingly powerful.

---

In terms of quirk compatibility, Bakugou has found his perfect match in Kirishima.

The blonde’s quirk is perfect for offence. Granted, it’s exceptionally versatile and he can handle his own just fine, but with Kirishima, he feels invincible.

Red Riot is unmoving, unabashed, and utterly unbreakable. He knows Bakugou inside out, knows his moves, his tactics, his signals. They fight like a well-oiled machine, adjusting and improvising with ease. Fighting alongside Kirishima, alongside Red Riot, is like breathing. They almost dance around each other, and between taking down villains and conducting search and rescue, they’ve made themselves a formidable hero pair even before graduation.

So, it’s not uncommon for them to be paired up even when they’re working and interning under different heroes. They’re that good.

They’re on a mission together when things take a turn for the absolute worst.

Most of the pros are down, caught in the crossfire or too busy protecting the civilians to engage in combat. There are fires blazing everywhere, smoke congesting the air around them so much that Bakugou can barely breathe.

Riot stands next to him, breathing slightly laboured but otherwise unhurt. Bakugou has a cut on his forehead, blood running down his face, but he feels ok. Good enough to rush into battle and do his part in subduing these shitty villains.

But experience has taught him better than to run in with no plan, even when he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to rush into the action. Experience has taught him that without a moment to catch his breath and restructure the plan to achieve their goals, he’ll be doing a lot more harm than good. It’s frustrating as all hell, but he’s a hero in training. You learn this stuff on the job.

‘What do you think?’ He asks the redhead.

Kirishima straightens out his back, hands on his hips. ‘The elemental quirk user will probably be the biggest pain in the ass.’

Bakugou nods. ‘It seemed like a water quirk. We need to get her away from the buildings, away from the piping. There was also that shitty smoke user, he’s the reason the air is barely breathable.’

‘Yao-momo’s masks would’ve come so in handy right now,’ Kirishima muses with a smile.

Bakugou grunts in begrudging agreement but doesn’t comment further on it. ‘There should be three other villains, all with high-level quirks. I’m not sure which other pros will free up to help, but we have to isolate them, move them towards the construction site,’ Bakugou points somewhat East of their current location, ‘as per the plan.’

Kirishima nods in agreement and catches Bakugou’s eyes and the blonde’s breath hitches.

They don’t talk about it, but here’s the other thing- they’re probably going to get hurt, maybe even fatally. Not because they’re weak or they want to or anything, but the villains seem endless. They’re fucking strong too, and even with an army of heroes, the villains seem to come at them harder and faster the longer this battle goes on. Bakugou can feel his own stamina start to vain, and he knows Kirishima will hit his limit too, slower than the blonde but still. There will come a point when Kirishima’s skin won’t harden and Bakugou’s blasts will lower in intensity till all he can manage are sparks.

And even then, he knows they will fight with their fists and their bodies and their teeth. That’s what heroes do- they put everything on the line, for the people and for justice.

More often than not, they lose their lives for it.

Well, for what’s it worth, Bakugou could not have asked for a better partner by his side in such shitty, dire times. Kirishima’s soft smile seems to reflect his sentiments.

‘Hey, Katsuki?’

The hero code of conduct frowns upon the use of personal names in costume. You have a hero name for a reason, and it helps preserve your sense of anonymity and privacy, even if it’s pretty useless at its job.

For Kirishima to name him, and first name him at that, just goes to show how serious the situation is.

‘Yeah, Ei?’

‘Make me some hotpot when we get back, ok?’

Bakugou inhales deeply, coughs because of the stupid smoke, and his fists clench tight enough to leave crescent moons in his palms.

‘Only if I’m in the mood, Shitty Hair,’ Bakugou retorts, his voice far too soft for the King Explosion Murder hero. But that’s ok- here is only Eijirou, Katsuki, and the world burning around them. Soft is ok here.

Kirishima’s familiar belly-deep laughter gives him a boost of energy.

‘Let’s kick some ass.’

Bakugou feels, for one glorious moment, like he can take on the entire world.

They take their first few steps before Kirishima steps in front of him, blocking off his path. When he looks up to catch his eyes again, the blonde’s protests and insults die in his throat.

Kirishima’s gaze is trained on him as he slowly reaches forward and grabs Bakugou’s right forearm with his right hand, fingers digging into the muscle. It’s a firm, solid grip, reassuring and warm and so very familiar. His eyes are bright, bold, and wine-red. And they’re so full of love, brimming with the kind of affection, respect, and adoration that Bakugou never thought he’d be subjected to. Kirishima opens his mouth as if to say everything his body is already telling Bakugou.

‘I know,’ Bakugou interrupts, voice hoarse. Because he does know. The redhead is his best friend in the entire world, his person, his rock. ‘I know, Ei.’ His own fingers wrap around Kirishima’s wide forearm, gripping tight with calloused, too hot fingers.

Kirishima flashes him another soft smile past his headgear before letting go. He waits for Bakugou to catch up and they walk together, side by side, equals.

When they see the first villain, doing her best to uproot an entire building, Bakugou casts one last look at Kirishima, sees his positively feral smile, and charges with the force of a wild beast.

There are no feels there, just adrenaline, rage, and trust so thick, even concrete would crack under its weight.

---

When you’re training to be a hero, things can go wrong.

Accidents happen. People don’t move out of the way fast enough, or there’s a domino effect of some sort, or the aftershocks of one attack reaches a place it shouldn’t.

Bakugou’s switched up his training partner, choosing to train with Iida to fine-tune his aim and work with a fast-moving target. His blasts hit the mark sometimes, but not always. The gym is huge, so they aren’t really risking anyone with their training; at least, that’s how it is for a while.

But then, Bakugou takes aim and blasts at Iida, Iida dodges swiftly, the attack takes out a portion of the rock formations in the gym, and suddenly there’s a landslide headed right at Hagakure and Kaminari.

Bakugou doesn’t even think about it; his body moves before his brain catches up, and he’s suddenly in front of the two, arms raised to obliterate the debris when he realizes that a portion of the mountain had been laced with explosives for someone else’s training, and his quirk would make things exponentially worse. With the last few moments he has, Bakugou shoves Chargebolt and Invisible Girl away roughly and gets buried under the avalanche of debris.

The last thing he thinks he hears is a chorus of voices yelling Bakugou before his vision goes black.

---

And that’s what Bakugou remembers when he wakes up to white. White walls, white curtains, white sheets.

Unfortunately, the noise isn’t white. It’s annoyingly and stupidly loud.

‘There are too many of you here,’ Recovery girl says, sounding exasperated. ‘He will be fine, he just needs to regain his strength.’

‘Sensei, a whole section of a mountain fell on him, how can he just be fine?’ Jirou questions, sounding severely distressed.

‘Plus, this happened while he was saving me,’ Kaminari chips in. ‘I’m not leaving him.’

‘I have a secret healing quirk of my own,’ Ashido bullshits. ‘He’ll feel so much better when he hears my voice. I have to stay, it’ll be a crime for me to go.’

‘I can tape his wounds?’ Sero offers sheepishly.

He can hear Recovery Girl’s sigh from the other end of the room. ‘And you?’

‘He’s my person.’ Kirishima says it like it’s enough of an explanation.

Recovery Girl clicks her tongue. ‘Overdramatic, the lot of you. Play rock paper scissors or something, but I’m only allowing one of you to stay. The rest of you are going back to the dorms.’

The room bursts into noise again and Bakugou’s head feels like it’s splitting open.  

‘HOLY FUCK, SHUT UP!’ The blonde roars from his bed. ‘I LOVE YOU GUYS, BUT IF YOU DON’T STOP YELLING, I WILL BODILY THROW YOU ALL OUT THE DAMN WINDOW.’

His own yelling does more harm than good to his throbbing head, but the noises stop completely so at least it did its job.

He’s alone for a blissful second before a crowd of five idiots surroundS his bed. Kirishima’s face peers into his, smile wide and eyes crinkled around the edges.

‘Hi, how you feeling?’

‘Like someone ran me through a garbage disposal and then put me in a microwave.’

‘Such details, much prose,’ Sero quips, earning him a chop from Ashido.

‘Blasty my love, can we do anything?’

‘Yeah, shut the fuck up and let me sleep.’

Jirou squeezes his calf from the foot of the bed. ‘You gave us a real scare there.’

‘I’m fine,’ Bakugou grumbles.

‘He will be,’ Recovery Girl reiterates, pushing them away and standing next to him. ‘I’ll do another bout of healing once you’ve recovered some of your strength. You can go back to the dorms before bed.’ She turns to his classmates. ‘Only one of you.’

They look at one another and everyone but Kirishima starts shuffling away reluctantly.

Kaminari lingers behind before quickly giving Bakugou a gentle hug. ‘Thanks,’ he whispers into his ear before pulling off and following after the others. Bakugou rolls his eyes and curls onto his side, yelping when he puts some weight on his tender side.

‘Easy,’ Kirishima mumbles, easing him onto his back. When Bakugou is finally comfortable, Kirishima drags one of the chairs lined up against the wall next to the bed and plops down, exhaling. Bakugou opens a tired eye to look at him and sees Kirishima with a stupidly smug smile on his face.

‘What?’

‘You love us, huh?’

Bakugou had hoped they hadn’t caught that, even though he’d screamed it loud enough for the entire building to have heard. Apparently, a cliff falling on you doesn’t stop you from blushing.

‘Fuck off, you were hearing things,’ he says anyway, because what is Bakugou if not in full denial about so many things?

Kirishima’s laugh is loving not mocking, and he puts his hand on Bakugou’s elbow.

‘Good to have you back Kats.’ He gives it a gentle squeeze. ‘Get some rest huh? I’ll be here when you wake up.’

Bakugou gives him a weak glare, but he can’t muster enough rage and anger because the absolute worst part is, he meant it. Because apparently being a rage-filled hero in training doesn’t make one impervious to feels.

Bakugou feels so betrayed by his own thoughts and emotions.

But right as he loses consciousness, he finds himself wondering if he minds all that much and he decides he doesn’t, almost not at all. The answer doesn’t really surprise him either.

He falls asleep to a cool breeze brushing over his skin and the sound of Kirishima humming under his breath.

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Change

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 4346

Content Warnings - angst, lots of fluff, happy endings, pre-relationship stuff (Mammon does call you ‘babe’ but I consider that a GN endearment)

Prompt/Inspiration - none

Summary -  You over hear Mammon talking to some demons at RAD, and both of you are forced to confront your feelings.

AO3

Classes had just finished at RAD, and you were heading towards the main gates to meet up with Satan so you could walk home together. Normally Mammon would escort you, but you had planned on staying after today to work on an assignment and told him not to wait for you. It worked out, however, that you had been able to finish your work during a free period in the library, so you got to leave early.

As you walked along, a familiar voice found its way to your ears and you broke out into a wide smile. Mammon was still at RAD and hadn’t left yet! Maybe he’d be able to join you on the way home? There was so much you had wanted to talk to him about, and you looked forward to this time together after every school day.

When you had first arrived here in the Devildom, your mere presence seemed to annoy him and he took advantage of every opportunity to dump you with his brothers and make himself scarce. But things had changed. Though he never said it, you were almost certain he was in love with you. His brothers would tease him about it regularly and it always left him so flustered and embarrassed.

And the truth was, you loved him too. Unconditionally. You knew how hard he tried to do the right thing, even if his plans often ended in disaster. And you admired how he was always looking out for his brothers, and didn’t even look for any acknowledgement - in fact, he preferred it that way. They didn’t know it was him who bought Levi’s new games when he had missed the preorder window, or that he had arranged for an entire truck load of Beel’s favorite pudding to be delivered after he had eaten the last cup that Beel had been saving. He had his reputation to maintain after all. And being thoughtful and considerate was not the look he was going for.

Mammon never failed to make you smile either. And while he was the biggest scaredy cat you had ever met (how was it even possible for demons to be scared of ghosts?), he always showed up to protect you when it mattered. Yeah, it stung sometimes when he’d intentionally keep his distance from you to avoid the teasing of his brothers, but you knew whenever you were alone with him that he treasured you more than anything.

These thoughts in mind, you quickened your pace and headed towards the sound of his voice.

“Hey Mammon, are you coming out with us tonight? That new club opened up.”

“Nah, ‘got babysittin’ duty tonight courtesy of Lucifer.”

“Babysitting duty? You’re still following that pathetic human around?”

You stopped dead in your tracks, rooted to the spot. The laughter of the other demons echoed in the now empty halls. You knew you should move. You needed to leave. This was not a conversation you should be listening to. And every fiber of your being said you should get out of there before you regret it. But still, you couldn’t get your feet to move.

“Ya know how it is. They’re so fragile. It’s not like I wanna be stuck with ‘em. But I can’t exactly let ‘em die either.”

“MC?”

You gave a small yelp as you spun around to find Satan behind you. It seemed you had taken too long to meet up with him so he had gone looking for you out of concern for your safety. You stared at him for a moment struggling to even process what he was doing there. But your brain was stuck on a loop of Mammon’s voice saying, “It's not like I wanna be stuck with ‘em,” on repeat over and over again.

“Um yeah, fine. See ya,” you numbly replied to Satan before you took off running. You just had to get back to your room. And now. Fast. You could feel your cheeks heating up and the pressure building behind your eyes. Just a little further, you thought, as you pushed yourself to run even harder than you knew you were capable of. Just a little further.

————

Satan stood there stunned. He had no idea why the hell you had taken off like that, nor had he understood your bizarre response when he had greeted you. Had he done something? He couldn’t think of anything since he hadn’t spoken to you since he saw you in the library earlier that afternoon.

That was when Mammon stuck his head out from around the corner. He could have sworn he heard your voice, but you were nowhere to be found. Weird. You had told him that he shouldn’t wait for you, but he had decided to anyway. The highlight of his day was walking home with you from school, so he wasn’t about to miss out on that just because you had to stay late. He had decided not to tell you, because he didn’t want to admit that out loud, but he had worked out the perfect cover story to explain why he would show up *just* as you were leaving RAD.

“Mammon.”

He jumped with a start before noticing Satan just on the other side of the corner.

“Holy crap. Why ya gotta sneak up on me like that?!”

“What. Did. You. Do.” Satan replied, emphasizing every word. He didn’t know what Mammon had said or done, but there was no way his presence and your sudden absence were unrelated. He couldn’t be sure, but he knew his brother well enough to know he had doubtless said something he shouldn’t have.

“Do?! I have no idea whattya talkin’ about! Honest! I was just hangin’ out with some friends. I swear!”

“Then why did MC take off running?”

“They WHAT?!”

Mammon’s face blanched. Oh no. Oh no no no no no. There was no way you had overheard him right? Nah, you couldn’t have. He would have known you were there. You would have said hi at least. You always said hi. Yeah Satan had to be mistaken. That couldn’t possibly be why you had left.

But try as he might to convince himself he wasn’t to blame - Mammon knew. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, he knew. That sinking feeling in his stomach was proof enough for him.

“Fix it,” said Satan, narrowing his eyes at Mammon, “Fix it or I tell Lucifer.” And with that he walked off to find you to make sure you had gotten home safely, despite his idiot of a brother. Why you enjoyed Mammon’s company was beyond him. But he knew how happy the scumbag made you, for better or worse, and that was the only reason he wasn’t giving Mammon a public thrashing right now. He at least had to give him a chance to talk to you, for your sake.

————

You weren’t sure how long you had been asleep when you heard a knock at your door. You weren’t in any condition to talk to anyone right now, so you hoped if you just laid there quietly for long enough they’d assume you were still asleep and leave.

But this wasn’t just anyone knocking at your door. It was Mammon. The most persistent demon in the entire Devildom, that also lacked that crucial ability to read a room and know when to leave well enough alone.

“HEY! MC! I know you’re in there. I gotta talk to ya. Open up.”

You let out a heavy sigh, and rose from your bed to go open the door. You knew better than most that there was no getting rid of Mammon at this point. He had decided to talk to you, so talk to you was what he was going to do, and you knew he was likely to break down the door itself if you made him wait too long.

So, without a word, you let him inside.

Before you had even had time to sit down on the edge of your bed, he had launched into a long winded, frantic explanation and apology. He had been joking. He didn’t mean it. You know how he is. He gets nervous.

“Mammon. It’s ok.”

He stopped mid sentence and took a good look at you. You certainly did not look ok. Your eyes were red. There were still dried tears staining your cheeks. Your hair was a disaster. There was no way you were ok, not while you looked like that.

Feeling a bit self conscious, you ran your fingers through your hair to hopefully at least get the tangles out, and flatten the lumps. It was probably a useless gesture, but you still had to try if you wanted Mammon to stop staring at you any time soon.

“You don’t look ok.”

Of course, trust Mammon to state the obvious. You couldn’t help but laugh a little. This was one of the things you had loved about him after all. It was part of his charm.

“Um thanks? I guess? I just meant you didn’t have to worry about me anymore. It’s ok. I got it.”

“Whattya talkin’ about?! What do you get?? You haven’ even listened ta me yet!”

You gave Mammon a small smile. He was trying so hard to figure this out and talk to you. You just had to appreciate that. You knew how difficult it was for him to articulate things sometimes, and talking about his feelings with you was particularly challenging for him.

“Look, I was being foolish. I got caught up in my own thoughts and began to expect things I shouldn’t, and I put pressure on you that you didn’t need. But I’ve cleared my head now and found a new perspective so you don’t have to worry. Honest. I’ll get Beel to start walking with me. It’ll be fine.”

Mammon was stunned. He had no idea what you were carrying on about. You expected things? You pressured him? When have you ever done that? The only thing you ever expected of him was for him to be himself, and he naturally just wanted to be the best version of himself he could for you. He wanted to make you proud of him. The fact that you never pressured him to change was one of the things he loved about you too. You accepted him and all his flaws, and you were always there to help him out of a tight spot or encourage him when he was feeling out of sorts.

And he loved you so much it hurt. Even though he knew he could never tell you, and knew you would never return his feelings, he still wanted to spend every second he could with you and make you smile so much you’d never forget him.

You sighed again. You could tell Mammon wasn’t understanding what you were saying. You had tried to avoid saying it directly because your emotions were still raw, but it looked like you had no choice but to rip off the bandaid and just get it all out there. Otherwise who knew how long it would take for him to understand?

“I love you, Mammon.”

Well, that was not what he was expecting.

“I love you very much. More than I thought possible. But I realize that I was projecting my feelings onto you and reading into things more than I should. Even though I had no reason to believe you felt the same, I still convinced myself you did. And I treated you like we were more than just friends. I shouldn’t have done that and put pressure on you. So, I’m sorry.”

You had been staring at your hands while you spoke, so you didn’t see when Mammon’s face flushed scarlet or when a few tears leaked out from the corners of his eyes. You also didn’t notice that he was about to wrap you up in the tightest, bone crushing hug of your life.

“I love you too,” he whispered, “so so much.”

By now you were laying flat on your back on your bed after being tackled by Mammon, practically immobilized as he buried his face into your neck and confessed his love to you. With what limited motion you had, you managed to wrap one of your arms around his back, rubbing it gently as he cried tears of happiness.

Now it was your turn to be at a loss for words. He loved you? You had realized when you had overheard him talking to his school friends that he was just being his usual awkward self. That wasn’t really what had upset you, not on its own at least. It wasn’t the first time he had said similar things to cover up his own embarrassment and you had gotten used to speaking “Mammon.”

No, what had gotten to you was the fact that you were forced to face the idea that you were nothing more than a friend to him. That was all you’d ever be. You’d finish up what remained of your year here, then you’d get sent back to the human realm, and he’d carry on with his life until he was introduced to a new exchange student whom he’d have to look after.

You weren’t his partner. He was never going to walk hand in hand with you through the halls of RAD, proudly showing you off to any demon that looked his way. That was all just a fantasy you had cooked up in your head due to your own loneliness and desire for love.

But now he was telling you that he loved you, and your brain was struggling to catch up with your heart, which had already started to run wild. All that work you had done convincing yourself to be more logical and not jump to conclusions was quickly unraveling. He loves you. He really loves you.

You wanted to give him a better hug, so you tried to wiggle your other arm free that was currently pinned to your side underneath him. But his grip on you only tightened, afraid you were about to push him away or take back what you said.

“Mammon, babe, can you at least let me hug you?”, you asked with a smirk as you tried to turn your head to face him, wiggling your arm again and hoping he’d get the message.

“Oh!”

He jumped back slightly, afraid he had been hurting you, which only made you laugh. With your arm now free you adjusted your position, returning his hug with one of your own, holding him as tightly and closely as possible. You leaned your head against his, giving him a small kiss by his ear, and repeated what you had said earlier - “I love you.”

Mammon pulled back a bit, trying to get a better view of your face. Now that he was calmer, he really wanted to get a good look at you. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t dreaming and that he wasn’t hallucinating. He needed to see you speak and hear those words as they left your lips.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

And with that, he proceeded to give you the best kiss you had ever had in your life.

————

Mammon was playing with your hair as you slept curled up by his side, your head resting on his chest. Your legs were tangled together with his, and he loved how close he was able to hold you now.

Part of his mind was still convinced this was all some sort of weird fever dream. Nothing this good ever happened to him. Maybe he’d score big at a casino sometime, but that paled in comparison to being able to hold you in his arms now. You really were all his. He didn’t have to share you with anyone, and if he didn’t like how another demon looked at you, well, he would just have to kiss you right in front of them to show them who you belonged to.

That thought made him chuckle. Who you belonged to? Pfft. You didn’t belong to anyone. If anything, he belonged to you. He had since the first day you met, though it took him a long time to admit it. But look at him now. He finally got to tell you how he felt, and he didn’t have to hide it from you anymore.

“What are you thinking about?”

Mammon’s hand stilled, “Sorry, did I wake ya?”

“No, I’ve been awake for awhile now. Just enjoying the peace and quiet I guess.” You gave him a squeeze with the arm that was around his chest. This was definitely a good way to wake up, and you hoped you’d be able to spend many more moments like this together with him.

“Well, I should probably head back to my room. It’ll be time for breakfast soon and the last thing I need is Lucifer’s naggin’ first thing in the morning.”

You whined and buried your face into his chest. You weren’t ready for him to leave yet.

Seeing you like that made Mammon impossibly happy. How could you be so cute? It shouldn’t be allowed. You shouldn’t be able to make him feel this loved just by clinging to him either.

You whined again, realizing that he was right. And as much as you wanted for this moment to continue and to never have to leave this bed again, there were still some questions that had to be answered before he left, and you realized you couldn’t avoid them any longer.

“So umm...about yesterday…”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Do you...umm…What do you intend to tell your friends?”

“My friends? Tell ‘em about what?”

“Me.”

Oh. Right. He forgot about that. Or more like he tried to forget. It had been sitting at the back of his mind since he woke up and realized he needed to go to school today. He had seriously considered just running off with you and trying to convince you that today was the perfect day for a trip, just to avoid having to deal with it.

Nothing had really been resolved yesterday. He knew that. After he kissed you, the two of you had just crawled into bed together to cuddle with some random movie playing in the background. The idea had been to watch the movie together, but all y’all had ended up doing was giggling and kissing and being generally silly, until you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

“Mammon?”

His silence was making you nervous, so you propped yourself up to get a better look at him. It was too dark to make out any details of his expression, but you could tell that he was lost in thought and not really looking at you.

“Mammon?”, you called his name again, and this time he responded by giving you a gentle squeeze with the arm that had settled around your shoulder.

“Do we really need to tell them anythin’? I mean, it’s not like they are really my friends ya know? Just some demons I hang around with at RAD.”

You may have been a bit drowsy earlier, but now you were wide awake. You sat up so your legs were hanging over the edge of the bed, with your back to Mammon. You were so foolish. So incredibly foolish. Why oh why did you not stick to your guns and push him away when you had the chance yesterday? How could you be so stupid as to actually confess to him? Hadn’t you been trying to create some distance?

It didn’t matter how deeply you loved each other. That wouldn’t change the fact that Mammon cared a great deal about how he was perceived by others. It didn’t matter if those people (or demons) would never see him again. He could tell you all day about how little those not-really-friends of his meant to him, but when it came down to it he still cared about what they thought and feared their rejection.

And you knew this about him. For all his passion and kindness and sincerity - he was only ever like that around you, when you were alone. And that wasn’t going to change anytime soon, and it wasn’t fair of you to expect him to change for you either.

“Babe? Ya alright?”

Mammon was sitting up now too, and had wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing one leg on either side of you so that you were essentially sitting in his lap. He kissed the back of your neck, and gave you a moment to reply.

He knew what was coming though. You knew him better than anyone. And he was painfully aware of this glaring personality flaw of his that was getting in the way of your relationship ever going forward.

You would never ask him to change, that wasn’t the sort of person you were. But you also realized that there wasn’t a future for you and Mammon, a future of any kind, if you couldn’t live your life openly and had to try to hide, minimize, or even flat out deny your relationship a good deal of the time. Or worse, listen to him deny he even cared.

Mammon rested his forehead against the back of your shoulder. I guess that’s it, he thought to himself. He had true happiness within his sight, and then messed it up like he always messed up everything. What he wouldn’t give to be able to change this about himself. Or for him to be anyone else, really. Someone that wasn’t a total waste of space that could actually make you happy and give you everything you deserved.

There wasn’t anything else to say at this point, so Mammon planted one last kiss to the back of your head, breathing in your scent and trying to commit it to memory, before slipping out of bed and finally returning to his room.

————

Today had sucked. Really and truly sucked. The morning had started off with so much promise, but that was all over before breakfast had even begun.

Despite the fact that you and Mammon had finally made your feelings known to each other, both of you realized that being in an actual relationship would be impossible. You just wanted different things, and these weren’t things that he was able to give you.

You heaved a sigh and rested your forehead on your desk. Why couldn’t today be over already? Or maybe the floor could just swallow you up? That could work too, you thought.

The ear splitting screech of static jarred you out of your thoughts. Your hands flew to your ears as you sat bolt upright, looking around the room for the source of this hellish noise.

“Hey hey, is this thing on? It’s on right?”

“Yes it’s on you idiot! Everyone can hear you!”

Mammon…? And...Levi…? The screech of the speakers had finally stopped, and instead the sound of their bickering filled the halls. What on earth could these two possibly be doing? Why was Levi even at RAD in the first place? He was heading to his room to work on his online classes when you left this morning.

“Oi! Listen up! Consider this an official RAD announcement from The Great Mammon!”

You could hear Levi groan in the background as Mammon carried on with the theatrics. You still hadn’t figured out what they were up to, but you knew it wasn’t “Lucifer approved” that’s for sure.

“MC, I hope ya listen’ ‘cause I’m only goin’ ta say this once!”

All the eyes in your classroom were now focused on you, and you blushed furiously under the scrutiny. What the everloving hell did Mammon think he was doing? Didn’t you say all you needed to say this morning? What could he possibly want at this point?

“I love ya. Ya hear that? The Great Mammon loves ya.”

————

You weren’t even sure at what point you had stood up or left your classroom, but you were now tearing through the halls trying to find the source of the magically amplified speaker that filled every square inch of the RAD campus with the sounds of Mammon’s love confession.

It wasn’t like they had a traditional speaker system hooked up to a switchboard. If they did, you would have just made a beeline for that. But now you had to find where Mammon and Levi had decided to hide to keep Lucifer from finding them long enough for Mammon to complete his speech.

You didn’t have to search for long though, because you soon heard the sound of Lucifer’s voice echoing through the halls as well. He had found Mammon, and was putting an end to this. With Lucifer on the scene though, you knew that meant your odds of finding Mammon had shot up exponentially. He’d probably haul the pair of mischievous demons to the student council room, so you started running in that direction as fast as your legs could carry you.

As you rounded one final corner, you skidded to a halt, watching Lucifer dragging Mammon along, while Mammon tried to convince his brother to go easy on him.

“Mammon!” you yelled.

He and Lucifer both turned to face you, equally shocked to see you there at the end of the hall, panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Soon you were running again, tears streaming down your face as you were overcome with emotion at finally having found him. As if you had done this hundreds of times before, Mammon opened his arms to you and you all but leapt into them, wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing him as tight as you possibly could.

“I love you,” you choked out in between ragged breaths and sobs, “so much.”

“I know. I love ya too. You don’t hafta worry. No more hidin’. Now everyone knows I belong to you and that you’re mine.”

[sentakushimasu]

if i can't taste your lips just let me taste blood

pairing: bakugou katsuki/kirishima eijirou summary: work studies are meant to be educational, not fatal, but bakugou and kirishima are trapped with a growing puddle of blood and no way to get out genre: hurt/comfort, whump word count: 2.6k warnings: blood, hospitals, bakugou trying to articulate emotions title from: we are the dirt - it's never enough AO3

When Kirishima came to it was with a lot of confusion and pain. The first thing he noticed was the searing pain emanating from his abdomen that blurred and subdued his other senses. The second thing he noticed was that it was really dark.

Dark to the point where he wasn’t sure if he was opening his eyes at all, unable to figure out where the hell he was or how he got there.

The pain, however, was very clearly not a fixture of his foggy and disoriented brain. It kept getting worse, the burning sensation reaching all the way down to his feet. In the haze of pain he couldn’t pinpoint any actual injury, only able to tell that there was something really heavy pressing down on his midsection.

The whine he let out was involuntary, but if he was alone he was going to make as many pathetic noises as he wanted.

Only, he wasn’t alone.

“Kirishima? Kirishima, are you awake?”

That was Bakugou’s voice, but Bakugou never called him by his name, and especially not with the worry that currently saturated his tone.

Kirishima grumbled and tried to push the weight off him. It was so heavy, borderline crushing him but he couldn’t get it to move. What he assumed were Bakugou’s hands swatted his away from whatever was pinning him down.

“Fucking hell, would you stop that?”

Kirishima squirmed again, trying desperately to get even a little bit of the weight off him. “There’s something on top of me-”

“Yeah, that’s me. You’re bleeding.”

“Hmm? Sorry,” Kirishima floundered until his fingers connected with Bakugou’s wrist, looping around the limb. “You can stop, I’m alright.”

“What the fuck? No. You’re fucking bleeding everywhere.”

Bakugou’s face came slightly more into focus as Kirishima’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. He kept looking between Kirishima’s abdomen and his face. He looked worried, and if Kirishima didn’t value his life he would dare say that Bakugou was scared. He was still in his hero gear, the stupid theatric spikes framing his head, a distinct trail of blood marring his features as it trailed down his face from his hairline.

“Are you hurt?” Kirishima couldn’t help but ask.

“What? No.”

“You’re bleeding,” Kirishima supplied helpfully.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes and turned back to the wound, applying more pressure. “Not as much as you.”

Swallowing the whine in the back of his throat, Kirishima decided to actually start a conversation with his friend. He had no idea how long they would be there and he wasn’t into spending that uncertain length of time in tense silence with Bakugou. “What happened?”

“Work study. Big villain attack so Endeavour sent us out as backup. One of ‘em cornered you in here so I came to tell ‘em to fuck off but you were on the ground and when I exploded the asshole, the fucking ceiling caved in.”

“At least I’m not stuck in here by myself, hmm? That would be unfortunate.”

It was supposed to have been a joke, something to lighten the mood between them but Bakugou’s expression remained firm as he offered no reply.

“How bad is it?”

Bakugou paused, the silence hanging heavily between them. “It’s fine, you’re gonna be fine.”

Kirishima just hummed. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Dark spots peppered his vision and he was beginning to realise how tired he felt. He knew Bakugou was fighting a losing battle.

“I’m not fucking lying, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

“It’s okay, Bakugou. Can I just ask you to do something before I die?”

“You’re not going to die, you asshole. Fat Gum is going to come for you, you know he’d never leave you here.”

The exhaustion was creeping in with the tingling sensation in his arms and legs. He was so cold. He had half a mind to ask Bakugou to set off some explosions and hopefully warm the air. But they were trapped with potentially limited oxygen and Bakugou was too smart to ever risk that. “Is he going to be fast enough? You said there was a villain, he’s probably too busy.”

“Shut up!” Bakugou snapped, his expression and tone immediately softening as the harshness registered. “You’re not dying today. Or tomorrow. Or any day that I’m alive to see. I won't let you.”

Kirishima closed his eyes, letting himself imagine what it would be like to die with Bakugou by his side. A cruel part of his chest tightened as he imagined asking Bakugou to hold him before he passed out.

The taste of blissful unconsciousness lay heavy on the back of his tongue as he spoke. “Will you stay? I don’t wanna go alone.”

“You’re not going fucking anywhere, and I’m not gonna leave you.”

“I think I’m dying, Katsu.”

Kirishima could see the way Bakugou flinched at the use of the nickname. He would have apologised for being so informal but he was tired and he didn’t have the energy to be sorry for trying to feel close to Bakugou in his last moments.

Perhaps the reaction had been to the idea of Kirishima dying, but that seemed less likely. Bakugou was persistent in reminding everyone that he didn’t care about anything or anyone other than becoming number one. Kirishima had always admired his determination but right now he just wanted to pretend that Bakugou cared about him.

Falling in love with Bakugou Katsuki was probably the dumbest decision of Kirishima’s life but he would never live to regret it. Not while Bakugou stayed with him, trying to staunch the flow of blood from a wound that was likely severe enough to render Bakugou’s efforts useless.

The older boy didn’t look at him. “You’re just delirious from the blood loss, you’ll be okay.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you’re fucking bleeding out!”

“Yeah,” Kirishima mumbled with the limited energy he had left, “but why is it suddenly a big deal? You've said repeatedly that you don’t care about anyone else.”

“I lied,” Bakugou hissed through his teeth, his jaw clenched with such force that Kirishima was worried the bone would shatter under the pressure.

Kirishima’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Well that made no sense.“Why would you lie?”

“Because I love you, goddamnit! So you’re going to stay awake and we’re going to get out of this and go on a date or some shit, but we can only do that if you stay awake, okay?”

Oh. Kirishima tried to speak, but his tongue felt like a lead weight in his mouth that he couldn’t lift no matter how hard he tried. The fog was pressing in on him much harder now.

Bakugou’s voice was muffled by the fog as he spoke again. “Fucking say something. I just confessed my feelings for you, you don’t get to fucking ignore me now.”

Kirishima was aware that he should be worried by the way it was taking more and more of his energy to keep his eyes open, but he couldn’t find the strength to care about anything other than the fact that Bakugou just said he loves him.

“Kirishima?”

“No- No, fuck, no, Kirishima you have to keep your eyes open!” Kirishima hadn’t even noticed they’d fallen shut, but he couldn’t seem to open them again, despite how much he wanted to stare into Bakugou’s red eyes forever.

Kirishima could feel something tapping on his cheek, shaking his shoulder. Bakugou’s voice was so broken and raw when he spoke his plea. “Kiri, please.”

That’s weird, Bakugou never says please.

As the last shreds of consciousness left him, Kirishima swore he could hear muffled yelling somewhere close to his head, he couldn’t make out the words.

But it didn’t hurt anymore.

-

Kirishima didn’t expect to wake up.

It was as simple as that.

He had been bleeding badly enough that Bakugou hadn’t even let him look, and had seemed genuinely worried and afraid for his friend’s wellbeing. So at that point, waking up was a feat on its own.

Waking up without being in excruciating pain was something else entirely. He just felt floaty and not real. But he definitely wasn’t dead because he was uncomfortable and the lights behind his close eyelids were way too bright.

“I would try to send you back to the dorms but I know you won’t listen to me even if I erase your quirk and drag you kicking and screaming out of here,” Aizawa’s gruff voice said from a place Kirishima couldn’t pinpoint. There was a lot of aural input that just dissolved into directionless static.

“I’m not leaving him.”

That was Bakugou’s voice, with its hard edge and underlying fire. It cut through the haze of Kirishima’s lingering unconsciousness, it didn’t have the same fuzzy edge to the syllables that Aizawa’s voice had.

Aizawa must have clicked his tongue before speaking again in his monotonous drawl. “You need to rest too. That concussion isn’t going to go away on its own.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bakugou bit back.

“Then, pray tell, what matters more than your health?”

“He does.”

He wanted to fight against the stupor, to reach out and smack Bakugou upside the head. His friend was concussed, and chose not to rest, in favour of keeping a bedside vigil. At this point, it was the only thing that was convincing Kirishima that he didn’t hallucinate what Bakugou said before he passed out.

Not that it made much sense.

“Kirishima would want you to take care of yourself.” Kirishima is going to shake Aizawa’s hand the second he can muster up the energy to do so.

“Kirishima also wanted to die of blood loss and traumatise me instead of just staying awake, so I’m not going to listen to what that asshole wants.”

“You know as well as I do that the doctor said he probably won’t be coherent until tomorrow morning even if he does wake up tonight. I can drive you back to the dorm and pick you up before visiting hours.”

Kirishima could practically hear Bakugou shaking his head. “I’m not leaving him alone.”

“He won’t be alone. Fat Gum and I will be here all night.”

Bakugou’s next words were haunted, hollowed out to fit an emotion Kirishima had never heard from the older boy. “He asked me to stay with him.”

“And you did, you saved his life,” a third voice added. Kirishima was cognizant enough to be able to recognise it as being his mentor.

“Go to bed, Bakugou,” Kirishima mumbled, scrunching his eyes up tightly as consciousness fully came back to him. He wished someone would turn the light off.

“Kirishima?” There was too much noise in that moment for Kirishima to figure out who had spoken, but he suspected that all of them had something to say about his return to wakefulness.

He tried to lift his hand, hoping to cover his eyes from the bright lights of what was undoubtedly a hospital room, only to find it pinned in place.

Opening his eyes to the onslaught of light revealed that his hand was being firmly held in Bakugou’s. Okay, forget his previous claims, he was definitely dead. Or, at the very least, having the best dream of his life.

Kirishima groaned. “You guys are loud.”

“Sorry, kid,” Aizawa said in his usual grumble. His chair was the furthest away from Kirishima, sitting all the way in the corner of the room. He looked the same amount of disheveled as he usually did but his posture held a weird tension that Kirishima wasn’t sure he had ever seen before.

“How are you feeling?” Fat Gum asked, he was out of his hero suit which, to Kirishima, looked very odd.

“Pretty okay, all things considered,” Kirishima said, directing his gaze towards his friend.

Bakugou was the most noticeably different. His hair was scruffy and matted with blood, a stark white rectangle of gauze taped to his forehead, a few little strips holding a cut on his eyebrow together. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t let go of Kirishima’s hand either.

Feeling particularly spontaneous, probably due to the bucket full of pain meds that were undoubtedly currently in his system, Kirishima gave Bakugou’s hand an experimental squeeze.

Bakugou stiffened but the tension quickly left his body as he squeezed back, turning to meet Kirishima’s eyes and give him a soft smile.

Their exchange was silent but they said all they needed to.

I heard you.

I love you too.

Kirishima tried to adjust himself, to get a better look at Bakugou’s injuries. Only to promptly collapse back onto the hospital bed as pain blasted through all of his senses.

“Idiot,” Bakugou hissed.

“Take it easy,” Fat Gum said, “you were in surgery for a long time, you don’t need to be pushing yourself.”

Still trying to breathe through the pain, Kirishima opened one eye to look at the pro hero.

“Surgery?” he managed to grit out from between his clenched teeth.

Fat Gum’s eyes softened as he looked at his mentee. “We found you both not long after you lost consciousness, but you were in rough shape. You’re going to need to take it easy for a while.”

Kirishima groaned. “That sounds boring.”

“Not as boring as an extended recovery period because you refused to take care of yourself,” Aizawa chided.

“True,” Kirishima said. “What time is it?”

Fat Gum was the one to speak this time. Bakugou stayed remarkably silent. “A little past midnight, you spent six hours in surgery and we’ve been waiting for you to wake up for about two hours now.”

“And Bakugou isn’t in bed?”

“Nope. We tried but he won’t budge. Better to let it happen at this point.”

Kirishima rolled his head to the other side, narrowing his eyes at Bakugou and the older boy’s stony expression. “Go to sleep.”

Bakugou met his gaze with his usual stubborn fire. “You first.”

“If you stay, will you sleep?”

Bakugou nodded.

“Aizawa-sensei, can he stay?”

Kirishima had expected Aizawa to argue, but he was just met with a soft “okay”.

Whether it was the cocktail of medication or the trauma his body had suffered, tiredness hit Kirishima like a wave. As his blinking slowed down, he swore he saw a soft smile grace Bakugou’s lips before his other hand reached up to brush Kirishima’s hair out of his face.

“Goodnight, Kirishima.”

Kirishima just hummed, too tired to speak.

-

Kirishima woke up the next morning with Bakugou wrapped around his arm that was free of tubes and wires, snoring softly.

Carefully picking up his other hand and ignoring the presence of the IV in the crook of his elbow, he began to thread his fingers through Bakugou’s messy hair. The older boy didn’t stir, a true testament to how exhausted he really was, especially considering on any other day Kirishima could breathe sideways and Bakugou would all but leap to his feet.

Instead, Bakugou’s hold just tightened slightly as he mumbled something in his sleep.

A quick glance around the room told Kirishima that Aizawa was asleep in his chair in the corner, his face buried in his capture scarf, surprisingly sans his usual yellow sleeping bag. Fat Gum was nowhere to be seen but judging by the empty chair with a blanket on the seat and jacket draped over the back, he couldn’t be far away.

There was a weird bliss to the quiet atmosphere of the hospital room. The soft morning light filtered in through the window as opposed to the harsh lights of the night before.

The pain meds took away from the discomfort of being in a hospital, and with Bakugou clinging to him like he was the most important thing in the world was something Kirishima could easily be convinced was a dream, a fantasy conjured by his unconscious mind.

He could get used to this.