#none of that he won’t hurt a fly bullshit

[in-kyblogs]

“And I find it rather interesting . . . interesting that you know my name and that you’re alive. I have never told my name to anyone who is alive.”

Queen of the Damned, Anne Rice

[venus-haze]

Secret Identity!Homelander x Reader Headcanons

Note: Gender neutral but mildly fem-coded reader, and no descriptors are used. This is inspired by the throwaway line from season 1 where Homelander mentions having a secret identity, but not keeping it for long, so I imagine it’d have been in the 2000s when he was in his 20s. My brain really latched onto the idea, and this is the result. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Warnings: Voyeurism, relationship under false pretenses, obsessive and disturbing behavior. Do not interact if you're under 18.

• Your new neighbor moves into the apartment next door seemingly overnight, but luckily you have a box of brownie mix and some powdered sugar tucked away in your cupboard and decide to make some as a ‘welcome to the building’ gesture

• His name is John, and he apologizes in advance if he wakes you up with his coming and going since he works odd, inconsistent hours as a crime reporter for a small, independent newspaper

• You notice the Indiana University logo embroidered on his sweatshirt and cheerfully say, “Hey, you’re a Hoosier! I’m sure you’re already working on your March Madness bracket.” He nods along as if he understands what the fuck you’re talking about. The two of you continue small talk until you make your leave back to your place. He goes to his computer, groaning at his choice of Indiana as his home state when he doesn’t know anything about basketball, let alone March Madness and brackets

• Over the next week or so, he realizes just how unprepared he is for living on his own, but luck’s on his side, because he hardly has to worry about doing much cooking or cleaning himself when you’re constantly inviting him over for dinner and offering to bring his clothes over to the laundromat with yours since you “know he’s so busy with work”

• Sometimes he has trouble keeping his backstory straight, though he is at least able to bullshit his way through your questions about college and basketball. That doesn’t faze you at first, as he keeps you enraptured with his inside scoop on crime in the city. You’re none the wiser as to how he knows the intimate details of some of the cases, under the impression that he’s just a great reporter

• He keeps tabs on you from afar, Homelander doing quick fly-bys of the area where you work just to make sure everything’s okay. He was raised to be a hero, after all. When you’re alone in your apartment, however, he has no shame in looking through your walls and listening in on what you’re up to. He knows everything about you, the type of music you listen to, the TV shows you watch, the food you go for when you wake up for a midnight snack, that you call your best friend every Thursday night at nine, no detail is too minute for him

• One evening, he decides to take a closer look at your place while you’re in the shower, until he looks through the bathroom wall and feels his mouth go dry at the sight of you. He slips his hand down his pants, and, well, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. It becomes a habit, his guilty pleasure of getting himself off whenever you’re naked in your apartment

• To you, though, he’s still your hot neighbor-friend John, who your coworkers have been pestering you to make a move on, telling you that it sounds like he’s straight from a Hallmark movie. You’re reluctant, but you start to consider something with John when you mention wanting to get rid of some of your older, worn-out furniture and buy new stuff and lament having to pay a company to move. He volunteers to help you during the weekend

• It’s almost funny how he pretends to struggle to move the furniture when he could rearrange your entire apartment without breaking a sweat. He seems to be a good actor, though, because he notices your forehead creased with worry as you watch him move a couch himself. He likes your eyes on him for a change, and though he flexes his muscles every chance he gets, the concern awakens something in him. It’s nothing less than calculated when he “accidentally” drops the couch, pretending to hurt his arm in the process

• You’re frantic as you rush to his side to inspect the damage. Of course there’s no bruising, a truck would have to land on him for that to happen. Still, you gingerly touch his arm and he pretends to hiss in pain. You disappear into the kitchen, only to return with a bag of frozen vegetables in your hand and guilt etched across your features

• “John, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” you ask, brushing his hair from his face, and it takes everything in him not to lean into your touch as he assures you he’ll be fine. The furniture moving project is over for the night, and you order a pizza and let him pick a movie to watch. Your movie collection is almost foreign to him, having been raised on a carefully curated selection of propaganda and clean American classics. He picks Dirty Dancing on a whim, and it proves to be a good choice as you gush over how much you love the movie

• For the first time in his life, he indulges in greasy junk food and cheesy movies, feeling that pang in his heart again as he watches the romance unfold on screen, the one weakness he could never quite get over, loneliness. He notices how as the movie progresses, you end up curled up against him. He furrows his eyebrows, wondering to himself if it’s actually a date all along, and from the way you keep glancing at his lips, only to bashfully look away when he catches you staring confirms that

• He can hear your erratic heartbeat and decides to just go for it, stealing a kiss from you in the middle of the movie. From then on, you’re dating, and suddenly this persona of his becomes far more complicated than he anticipated. You make him happier than he’s ever been in his life. He wants to keep you incredibly close, both of your respective free time consumed by each other, even while he’s Homelander, unbeknownst to you

• John may as well be your dream boyfriend in the beginning of your relationship, attentive and romantic, bringing you to a nearby park on your first official date for a picnic and to try the famous Dirty Dancing lift scene. “Let’s at least try!” he insists. “I’ll catch you.” Despite your hesitations since he’d hurt his arm moving your furniture just a few days ago, he catches you with an almost unbelievable ease on the first try, to your delight. “I’ve always wanted to do that!” you laugh as he sets you down, pulling him in for a kiss

• He buys you elaborate floral bouquets and increasingly expensive gifts, to the point where you wonder how the hell he has that kind of money as a reporter unless he gets paid off by the same criminals he’s supposed to be reporting on. Sometimes he’s troublingly jealous or says things that unsettle you, but you assume it’s because of the line of work he’s in, being exposed to the worst of people. Besides, whenever you get even the slightest bit nervous by his words or actions, he seems to know just when to swoop in and calm you down

• Definitely has no concept of personal space or normal sleep schedules. You’re the first non-Vought affiliated person he’s ever had any kind of relationship with. It’s intense and things move pretty fast, like "I love you on the third date" fast. He idealizes you a lot. Emotionally you’re stretched thin by having to fill the role of lover, parent, best friend, confidant silly rabbit

• Date nights at your place are comforting and domestic, but going out is always an adventure with him. His lack of knowledge of generally getting around New York is downright strange since he reports on crimes all over the city. Not to mention, people do double-takes when they see him, as if they recognize him from somewhere but then figure otherwise. It happens way too often to be a coincidence, though

• Sex with John can also be unpredictable, passionate and loving to intense and almost painful. He’s into some weird stuff and doesn’t have the best etiquette when it comes to his kinks. Not to mention his stamina is almost inhuman, and when you comment as much after he fucks you the fourth time in under two hours, his response is strange, to say the least. You chalk it up to years of sexual repression that he maybe didn't get out during his college years

• Still, he supports and adores you, so you can deal with the frustration and emotional exhaustion when he knocks on your door at eleven at night, letting out a dramatic sigh as he flops on your couch and you take the cue to ask him how his day was. You know there’s something he’s keeping from you, but you decide not to push it. He’s just as interested in your everyday life, hell, he wants you to bother him with the mundane stuff. That’s what boyfriends are for, anyway. You have no idea of what his true identity is, yet you still love him 

• It can’t last forever, though, because you work late one evening, so he decides to check up on you, just to be safe. The scene he descends on is almost too perfect, the type of scenario he’d seen played out in the Vought-branded Payback cartoons he watched growing up. Still, seeing the man so much as pointing the knife in your direction as he demands you hand over your money and valuables almost makes Homelander lose control

• He lands in between you and the man, who takes a nervous step back. “Not so brave now, huh, buddy?” Homelander scoffs, grabbing the man’s wrist and snapping it, the knife falling to the ground as he screams in pain, clutching his broken wrist

• The situation becomes even more nightmarish as you watch America’s fresh-faced hero push your attempted assailant onto his knees, a cruel gleam in his eyes and sneer on his lips as he grabs the man’s head and twists. You can’t bare to watch, gagging when you hear a distinct snap followed by the crunching of bones

• Homelander turns to you, taking you into his arms for what’s supposed to be a comforting embrace, “It’s alright now. You’re safe with me, babe” 

• Your brain pretty much short circuits as you realize your boyfriend John is actually the most powerful superhero who ever lived, and you just witnessed him break a man’s neck like it was a toothpick

• Naturally, you pass out, right into his blood-covered hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead and takes off for Vought Tower. No need to pretend anymore, right?

[athynathens]

chapter two : fancy ass bird

“So you’re a fancy ass bird? That’s your quirk?”

PAIRING. Bakugo Katsuki x Amphyr Domino (m-free)

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. This short story is a crossover between the Boku no Hero Academia world and Winx Club world. It will take place after the battle with All for One and Shigaraki. Let’s just all assume that the villains are defeated and everything is back to normal.

SYNOPSIS. Bakugo’s sudden request took Amphyr off guard, now she is contemplating whether or not if she should accept it or not. However, Bakugo’s remarks about her identity made her rethink her decisions. Now she’s debating if she should accept his damn sudden request — a fight.

WARNINGS. None :)

AUTHOR’S NOTES. So incase yalls won’t get it as you read, Amphyr’s on her Harmonix stage already!! Now, i am contemplating what color scheme she should have, do yalls have any ideas? if you do hit me up in the comments or pms!!

TAGS. @lovra974 @selmasemlan @andysdrafts @citrustsuki . If you want to be tagged, comment down below!!

amphyr domino’s profile | the world in betweens masterlist

“FIGHT ME” Bakugo calmly spoke, his hands were on his pockets. The cold night breezed around his black sleeveless shirt, as the leaves flew up in the skies of twilight.

Moonlight shone down on Amphyr, emphasizing her brown locks dancing with the wind. Her eyes went wide, blinking thrice before saying, “Heh?”

When he didn’t react, Amphyr knew that he was fucking serious. That’s when she finally screamed, “HEHHHH?!?”

Her screamed caused birds flying off the trees, causing leaves to fall down. She moved back a bit, shivering from that request. “We haven’t talk in months, and this is the first thing you ask of me?!?”

“Don’t be such a fucking pussy. We exchanged greetings in the hallways, didn’t we?” Bakugo clicked his tongue, looking away briefly.

“THAT WAS BARELY A GREETING!” She retorted, remembering the times when she would greet this explosive student, and he would just walk past by her and hum in response.

The blond rolled his eyes, “At least I fucking responded!”

She sighed, bringing her hand to the temple of her nose and asked, “Why are you even asking me to suddenly fight you? The latter rubbed it, her forehead aching from this sudden request.

“Because you ain’t from here, aren’t ya, fucking Croissant?” He spoke out, catching her off guard.

She gulped, trying to stay composed. “Of course, I’m not. I am a foreigner after all.”

Small blasts exploded from his palm. “Foreigner…” He chuckled lightly. “As in you’re a fucking white person or…” He asked, staring at his palm emerging explosions.

His red orbs snapped to his front, staring at her soul deeply “….you’re someone from another world?”

“A-Another world? Don’t joke with me, Bakugo-kun. T-There’s no such thing as—” She was interrupted by a loud blast. The next thing she knew is that she’s being held by the collar of her shirt.

Bakugo held her up so high, her feet are not touching the ground anymore. “Don’t fucking give me that bullshit!!” He exploded, causing her to fall back to a tree harshly.

This heavy impact made her back hurt, choking a bit of blood from her mouth. With shaking legs, she used her wrist to wipe out the blood from the corner of her mouth. She panted, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Bakugo-kun.”

The blond clenched his jaw in annoyance, hate being stalled when he asked a question. “That’s fucking bullshit. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the past months. Your fucking so-called quirk? I analyzed that shit. The fucking blast on my face, the shitty barrier you made, the damn power wave you caused? Those quirks already belonged to someone.”

“Those blasts? That’s my fucking quirk, and you sure as hell are not related to me or my parents. Never seen you in any of our family meetings nor have I heard of you. The damn barrier? That fucking belongs to that villain that Shitty hair fought when saving that white-haired brat,” He continued, making her pale up in fear.

“And that power wave? That goddamn quirk is similar to Nejire-Senpai’s quirk, but there’s no way in hell you’ll be related to her. She’s a fucking talks for shits, she wouldn’t miss the chance to talk with anyone, especially to a relative,” He added, causing Amphyr to be agitated by the fact he is closed in knowing the truth.

When she thought it was over, there were still more to her surprise…

“From where I’m from, you’re called a dwarf,” Bakugo repeated the words she said to Mineta in the past.

“Does that sound familiar to you, Croissant?” The blond’s side mouth lifted. Amphyr can only stay silent, knowing that her defending right now will make everything else so much obvious.

“From where I’m from,” He repeated slowly, staring at his fingers as he stretched them.

“That means something else, right? The where is definitely not a damn place in the US, Europe or any part of this world, ain’t that right?” He asked, doing one small blast in his palm.

Suddenly, he grinned and released a blast towards to Amphyr, “The where is in a place that’s not in this fucking world, right?!?”

Her eyes went wide, immediately reacting to the blasts so she flipped to her right, doing a back tuck tumbling to save herself. When she landed on the grass, one knee up and the other on the ground, Bakugo chuckled as he releases more blasts from his palms.

“So let me ask, fucking extra…” He rasped, blasting some of his quirk in the air. “…who the fuck are you?”

Amphyr breath in and out a couple of times, contemplating if she needs to come up with a lie or not. It’s not like her family is asking her to keep her identity a secret since a small town called Gardenia knows about fairies already. However, she likes it better if no one knows who she truly she is. It’s like she’s reliving her life once more; doing a reset, a break, a rest from her usual life as the Crown Princess of Domino and one of Alfea’s prodigy.

“Before I answer,” She panted, standing up from the ground. “Why did you ask to fight me?”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched in annoyance, he hates being stalled when he asked a question after all. But if she means to cooperate, then he can let this go.

The latter clicked his tongue, placing both of his hands on his pockets. “I already fucking knew that you’re some kind of being from another world so I decided to fight you. Fighting someone who’s from another fucking world sounds fun to me after all.”

Amphyr’s eyes soften, the light on her eyes vanished. “So you’ll really give it your all to fight me or you’ll just hesitate and make it easy for me because I’m a fai—something…?”

She recalled the amount of times she was understimated as a fairy. In Magix, there is a division of work between men and women, fairy and specialist, and princess and princes.

If you’re a woman, a fairy and a damn princess, you will be an object of protection, hence, people mistakenly saw Amphyr as weak and timid.

Amphyr’s hands clenched in annoyance, remembering the amount of times she asked for a fair battle from her fairy friends; they took it too easy to her as they were afraid to harm the princess. She recalled the time when she opened up to her friends that she wants to practice fighting. But, they degraded her by gaslighting that her powers are enough. They even emphasized that fist fights are supposed to be for the males only.

Honestly, the only person who understood her was her mother, Daphne of Domino. As the Supreme Nymph, she was hard on Amphyr. She taught her everything that a Nymph should do and follow. She trained her till she sweats to dawn. She fought with her as if she was an enemy. She coached her like a warrior fairy.

However as a mother too, she also had to hold back in certain aspects, especially when they duel together.

Since then, no one has given her the fight she fucking desires the most — a fair fight.

“HAH?!?” Bakugo’s loud voice echoed. “Are you fucking with me? Ya looking down on me, aren’t you?!? You think I’ll go easy on you? In your goddamn dreams, fucking extra!”

Amphyr’s eyes twinkled, light of hope counterclockwise her pupils. “W-Will you really give it your all?” She stuttered, wanting confirmation.

The blond clicked his tongue, “You’re underestimating me, aren’t ya, damn Croissant!?!” He roared, squatting a bit while releasing small blasts from his palms. “I don’t give a shit on who or what you are! Just fucking fight me!”

She felt the sincerity of his words. Will I really get the fight I want from him? The side of her mouth twitches, she can’t contain her excitement any longer.

“You better not hold back, Bakugo,” She sternly told, closing her eyes.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do. It is you that should not hold back! Don’t even think of using my rehab as a damn excuse,” He smirked, licking his lips from the adrenaline rush flowing through his body.

Swirls of winds surrounded her, the strands of her hair flowed gracefully with the wind. Amphyr opened her eyes to reveal her glowing pupils of gold, “You asked for it, Bakugo.”

The blond flinched, witnessing her newly formed aura. He saw her jumped to the sky, screaming a word he didn’t know. That’s when a ball of glowing magic surrounded her. Soon, the magic ball exploded, revealing Amphyr in wings.

Bakugo was left at awed. His so-called Croissant does not look like an extra at all in the sky — she looks like more of a celestial ethereal being.

He watched as her long skirt flew side by side, being one with the night breeze. The latter noticed long ribbons attached on both of her legs, those ribbons were connected to some-kind of high heeled sandles. His eyes moved up to her upper body, it was a top with one strap to her right side and it was decorated with ruffles like a ball gown.

His red orbs shone a bit when he finally saw her face. Amphyr’s eyes blazed up with determination while her hair moved in the same direction as the wind carries. The sea shell tiara on her forehead emphasized her royalty aura to him.

Amphyr channelled her magic energy to both of her hands, releasing fire then circled her arms to the top. She looked down to Bakugo and roared, “Don’t you dare hold back on me now, Bakugo!! You need to keep your damn promise!!” She threw the ball of fire towards him.

Smokes from the fireball scattered all over the ground. Amphyr’s wings flapped foward, in hope to find him easier, yet suddenly a loud blast from behind. Her eyes quivered, feeling an ominous sensation rushing towards her from behind. With the support of her wings, she flipped in the air and that’s when she noticed Bakugo grinning in excitement.

When he landed back in the ground, he yelled, “I ain’t holding back for nothing, Croissant!! This shit’s getting better!! Fight me!” He blasted up in the sky.

She used her wings to accelerate her movements. The brunette brought her arm back, chanting a small spell on her fist. After the enchantment is finished, she toughen her fist.

The blond’s smirk widen, almost smiling at her attack towards him. He placed more power on his palm then yelled, “DIE!”

The two collided, causing a strong drift of wind to hover through the forest.

Bakugo and Amphyr fought in the air, blasting each other with their quirks. The blond kept using his quirk to avoid her attacks, but he had a hard time dodging them. Since he had no idea what her quirk is, Amphyr became unpredictable.

He can only click his tongue in annoyance, realizing that he has no clue who he is fighting.

Meanwhile with Amphyr, her reputation as a support student has its uses. She knows what fighting style what Bakugo is into. She took advantage of her knowledge to battle this student hero.

The sounds of small explosions appeared from his palm, he aimed it to her midair and blasted it out.

Bakugo smirked, thinking he had won but to his suprised, he saw Amphyr flying above his explosion. His body shivered in excitement and screamed, “Not bad, Croissant!!” He used his explosion to rotate his body, accelerating his movements towards Amphyr.

The two fought like there’s no tomorrow. Explosions, blasts, waves, omitted around the forest. The smell of burnt wood surrounded the area, the trunk of most trees broke in half with a hint of fire and water around it.

Suddenly, a robot drone flew over them. “Hey! Who’s there?!?” It screamed, accelerating it’s movements to capture the people in the act.

Amphyr and Bakugo were quick to react, hiding among the trees. They used the trees with the most leaves which can help camouflage their presence. As their heard their robot drone flying away, the two sighed in relief.

The two had the time to catch their breath, wiping their sweat and panting their lungs out. The blond looked to his side to see her outfit a bit ripped from the blasts, her face covered with ash and some burns. Her soft arms covered with scars while her fair legs were covered with debris of soil and dirt.

“You look like shit,” He panted.

Amphyr looked at him. He was covered with ashes and burns from each other’s quirks. His black shirt was ripped, revealing his abs and scars from his previous battles. His arms bulged as he moved, showcasing his veins.

“Your arm, how is it? Nothing’s wrong with it, right?” She asked, wiping some ash off her face.

He chuckled, “Don’t worry about me. ‘M fucking fine.”

Her eyes traveled down to his injured arm, it was shaking a bit from overusing it. She sighed, “Sit your ass down, Bakugo-kun. I’ll heal you.”

His eyebrow arched, “Don’t tell me what to fucking d—” He was silenced by a spell chanted by Amphyr.

He muffled through his mouth, trying to speak but he couldn’t in the end. The vein on his forehead became more prominent as his eyes turned white in irritation. The next thing he knew he was floating a bit, then he settled on the ground.

The brunette sat down in front of him, placing both her legs on one side. She stared at him for a brief moment while grabbing his arm. Amphyr snapped her fingers then swiped them left and right while moving her hand down.

Bakugo watched as golden flakes traveled down his injured arm. He felt his arm feeling less painful. She swiped her two fingers up, releasing the silence spell from his mouth. The brunette carefully turned his arm around, double checking for more injuries or anything.

“I didn’t completely heal your arm cause that’s not how magic really works. The injury is still there. I just enhanced the healing process by—Bakugo Katsuki,” She was interrupted when he spoke his full name.

“I-I’m sorry…?” She asked with confusion.

He stared at her again, not breaking eye contact. “That’s my fucking name. Bakugo Katsuki.”

Amphyr stared at him with bafflement again, unsure why he is introducing himself again. As she thinks, she finally realized what he was doing.

He’s acknowledging me…The brunette smiled, realizing that his introduction is a new beginning to their relationship chapter. The fact he is introducing himself to her shows a declaration of her strength.

“Amphyr Domino,” She smiled, not breaking eye contact with him.

He grinned, satisfied that she understood what he was implying.

“So, you’re gonna fucking explain who you are? You weren’t entirely trying to hide your fucking quirks from me anyway. Those blasts? The fire? The water? And this damn healing? Just who the fuck are you? And why the hell do you have so many quirks?” He asked, removing his arm from her grip.

“Remember when you asked if I was a princess?” She asked.

His eyes went wide, “No fucking way. You’re a princess?” He caught on very quickly. “So what? Am I supposed to bow down or some shit?”

She shook her head and pleaded, “Please don’t.”

“Okay good, cause wasn’t fucking planning to.”

Amphyr rolled her eyes, slightly hitting him on the chest. Bakugo stared at her with wide eyes, his eyes gave the ‘what’ look which annoyed her a bit further.

“You really have the ability to annoy people, huh?” Her eyebrow twitched violently, a vein on her neck became slowly prominent.

“It’s a fucking gift, Croissant,” He placed his tongue out while revealing his middle finger to her.

The brunette sighed in aggravation. The latter crawled to sit beside him against the tree trunk. She placed her head back, positioning her legs on one side. “But yep, you’re right though. I am a princess.”

He leaned his head back, gazing at his side to look at her. “Princess of what exactly?”

“Domino — Princess of Domino.”

“Hah? Isn’t that your last name?”

“Y-Yeah…I forgot this world requires a last name so when U.A. asked what my last name is…well…I kinda panicked and just said Domino…” She answered, remembering how she just screamed her kingdom’s title as her last name.

He scoffed playfully, “You fucking serious? You panicked because you forgot? Goddamn, Croissant. You better fucking tell me what you are or else I’ll think you're a damn alien or something.”

A vein in her forehead appeared, “I’m not an alien, you damn moron!” She faced him completely, pointing at him aggressively.

“Then what are you?” He questioned, bringing one knee up and placing his elbow on that knee.

“I’m many things, but I’m mostly known as a fairy,” She responded.

A sudden wind breezed upon both of them, causing their clothes and hair to dance with the wind as one.

“So you’re a fancy ass bird? That’s your quirk?”

“What the fu—fine yes, if that’s how you interpreted it.”

Bakugo looked at her briefly before gazing up in the night sky. “Fairy, huh? So you do magic or some type of shit?”

She sighed at his poor choice of language. “Yes, Bakugo-kun. I do magic, but it’s a bit different from quirks. Magic is quite flexible compared to quirks, but like all wonderful things, it does have limitations. I guess an example is when I silenced you. That’s a common spell for fairies. Let’s say you say the chantment, you can’t silence someone since you’re not a fairy. This means that as long as you’re a fairy, you can chant the common spells. This also applies in witchery.”

He listened attentively as Amphyr continued. “What differentiates each fairy is their chosen ability from birth. An example is my Aunt Bloom; she’s the Fairy of the Dragon Flame or my Aunt Flora; She’s the Fairy of Nature. These attributes help people differentiate us from other fairies.”

“What ‘bout you? What you’re the fairy of, Croissant?” He asked.

The brunette stared at him for a moment, trying to think of a satisfying answer. “It’s a bit complicated…”

Bakugo clicked his tongue, “Fucking try me, Extra.”

Calling a princess extra really shows what character he is. She sighed, “Okay, if you insist. I’m only classified as a fairy for now since I have not yet reached a certain level, but I’m really a Nymph.” She responded, but he just gave her a perplexed expression.

“A Nymph is one of the oldest magical creatures of my realm. They hold greater powers than any other fairy because the possess more than one power. In my case, I can manipulate any elements like fire, water, ice and others,” She added.

“WHAT THE FUCK? You’re old?!?” Bakugo blasted, creating tiny blasts from his palms in shocked.

Amphyr twitched in anger, slapping his left arm. “I’m not old, dumbass!! I’m literally 17 like you!! I was born from a Nymph, fool!”

“You didn’t fucking specify that shit!!”

She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t even done explaining, moron!”

Bakugo clicked his tongue again, leaning back a bit more while placing his hands on his pockets. “You seemed like a strong motherfucker. Heck, you’re even a damn princess. So what’s a princess like you doing here in Japan anyway?”

Amphyr’s eyes soften with his question. “That’s a story for another time.”

His eyes turned white and exploded, “There is no other time!!”

She was caught off guard with his sudden explosion. But she was quick enough to understand what’s happening. Amphyr definitely does not want Bakugo to leave just like that after giving her that fight. This blond has given her the fight she wanted, and she sure as hell want to experience it again.

“How about this,” She spoke. “If you fight with me again, then I can tell you all about me and where I’m from.”

Bakugo scoffed, “What makes you think that I want to fight with you again, Croissant?”

Amphyr grinned, swiping her one arm to the side which released a strong wind that sliced up trees in half. ��Because I didn’t show you everything yet, Bakugo-kun,” She kept her cocky smirk as the trees fell harshly to the ground.

“I’m sure you don’t want to miss a fight with someone like me after all,” She added.

“Are you playing with me, damn Croissant?” He chuckled, somehow getting fired up again.

“No, of course not. After all, you should consider yourself lucky because….” She stopped her words. “….you’re fighting with Domino’s precious princess, you big moron.”

His eyes flared up, feeling his adrenaline boosting through his veins. As much as he hates to admit it, a fight with Amphyr again is an exhilarating offer.

Over the course of their fight, he had witnessed her combat style — he could conclude she was definitely strong, hence why he didn’t back down and kept his guard up.

She’s strong in all places he can think of, but Amphyr’s main strength lies in strategy. He noticed that she’s quite observant with his tactics so she would carefully strategized on the spot.

Additionally, he also noticed that she would aim her powers at his left area, she was so careful not to aim too much on his right injured arm. Bakugo looked down at his injured arm, reminiscing the moments of his battle with Shigaraki.

Ba-tump…

His heartbeat made a sound he never anticipated.

Ba-tump…

There it goes again. Another beat on his heart.

“—ugo? Bakugo? BAKUGO!” His train of thoughts were interrupted.

His eyes quivered, looking around his area then looking up to see a small blasts on her palm.

“Oi. Were you ‘bout to slap me with that?” He pointed at her palm which was creating small blasts already.

“Uhh…n-no…?” She replied, immediately distinguishing her blasts from her palm.

Bakugo’s eye twitched. “Fucking Croissant! Don’t lie to me! I saw that shit!”

“….”

His entire body twitched violently, not liking that she isn’t responding. “At least fucking answer!!” His vision turned white and explosions occurred in the forest.

previous chapter next chapter

[twistedbloodstain]

marquis de gramont x assistant!reader: i breathe flames each time i talk | love’s not supposed to be easy.

plot: the one where he has you but at what cost?

warnings: kidnapping, coercion, dubious consent, guys this has went for a dark turn :(, none of them gets any peace

masterlist

shards of glass fly through the wall behind him, vincent bites his tongue from cursing, a slightly frustrated frown slowly making its way to his face. he stops himself from visibly sighing or showing any sign of his genuine worry over another expensive irreplaceable vase broken on the floor.

instead, he worries about the best possible way to diffuse the situation in front of him.

which is you.

you, who he is irrevocably in love with. the person he wants most more than anything in this world, you’re the sweet heaven placed on this earth that was meant to be cherished by him, you who gave him the captivating feeling of affection.

you taught him to know what it was like to find a piece of himself he’s yearned for in years, a part that he denied to have existed in fear of being weak and vulnerable oh but no, you make him feel the other way around. when he feels your presence and grace, he feels like salvation and strength has entered the room itself.

you make him feel safe, in a way. he feels at peace when he’s with you. all his heedless ambition stood no chance against having you in his life the moment you almost died for him in that fateful night. he felt the need to immediately shelter you from the cruel world, he wouldn’t offer the universe a chance to take you away from him ever again. vincent swore he would cherish you, make every second of your life a sweet memory for the rest of your lives together. he took you to keep you safe and happy, he swears even if you don’t realize that you need it.

which is why what faces him, hurts him as much as it hurts you.

you’re standing at least a few meters away from him next to the table filled with saccharine fruits and decorated cakes, your form shaking from fear. earlier you had just grabbed the nearest vase and threw it at him the second he stepped into the room to join you for a quick snack. tears were already slipping down your cheeks as small sobs escaped your lips, the soft satin gray dress wrapped around your body made you look like a goddess on earth. it was the first thing that entered his mind before he noticed the projectile being flung to his face, thankfully he managed to dodge it in time and the vase smashed into the wall behind him.

 he doesn’t know why this is happening.

or maybe he does. vincent is not a blind man to the truth, he does not relish in the bliss ignorance offers. he thinks anyone who enjoys that form of bliss is a coward who refuses to deal with reality. after all, if you’re dealing with a rather difficult predicament you wish to resolve, you need to face the hard truths and all plausible cards at hand. ignorance cannot play a part into it.

but when he looks at you, he realizes why people place themselves into that situation. he asks the same questions and pretends he doesn't know why you’ve thrown vases at him, why your tears only seem to drip when he’s in the room for the past two weeks. all truths he spurns to know.

“my love? what’s wrong?” he begins, vincent takes a step forward and reaches his hand out to you, a shard cracks as it was crushed under the weight of his foot, you eye him warily and instantly flinch to step back.

“no. stay away from me.” you scream. “don’t come any closer.”

“you know i can’t even if i wanted to.” he whispers looking into your eyes, he doesn’t listen to your words and takes a step closer. it makes things worse as another sob leaves your body.

“don’t bullshit me! in all my years i’ve worked with you, i know if you wanted to, you would.” you reply, “you just won’t try hard enough!”

“why do you find it so hard to accept?” he questions, frustration getting the better of him. he walks straight to you, startled by his sudden movements, you stammer on your feet but he gets to you quick, he grips your arms and holds you close.

 “mon amour, every man on this earth could attempt to pry you away from me but i would burn this world to the ground if it meant i could return to you. i want you, i love you.” he confesses.

probably for the 20th time of the week.

“stop. stop it.” you struggle in his grip as more tears collect on your face.

“why? you have no reason to refuse me-“

“you kidnapped me! you took me from my home and locked me into your estate, i can’t even move a single finger without the guards or the maids reporting everything i do!” you struggled.

“all to keep you safe, there are people out there who want you dead. i am protecting you, mon amour.” he reasons.

“i don’t want it, i want to go home.” you beg. this is what the both of you go through everyday, sometimes it occurs during meal times like right now, but more often than not it happens the moment he comes forward to greet you a “good morning” in bed or before the both of you get ready to sleep at night.

he prefers to deal with you like this when you’re both in the confinements of his bedroom, it’s much easier to lull you with his sweet words and hold you because for a minute or two you don’t twist against and grip but rather lean into it. you don’t spit out those incomprehensible thoughts of leaving him or begging for him to let you go.

he would rather die than lose you.

“please…vincent just let me go. i want to go home, you have to let me go.” you plead, you’re now holding his wrists close up to your body. in a different scenario, he would’ve been fucking delighted to have this, to have you touch him with such softness but your words do the opposite effect as the idea of being without you sink into his sick head.

vincent takes control of his hands and brings your palms up to his lips, placing a soft kiss. he watches your reaction slowly, tears weren’t as present as it was before on your face, he likes it when you look calm it reminds him of the days the both of you spent together as boss and employee. serenity was always a good look on you.

“you are home, you’re right where you need to be…with me.” he states, “what i have to give you, my love…it shouldn’t trap you. it’s meant to make you feel the same way you make me feel but i can’t love you if you won’t help yourself.”

“if you would just let me love you, you’ll see.” 

your face contorts back to your former anguish. teardrops begin falling down again but you don’t fight to get away from him, his arms snake behind your waist as he guides you into an embrace with him. 

no matter how big of a fit you throw or how expensive of a vase you fling at him, this is how it always ends. for the two weeks you’ve spent here, hopefully you’ve realized that there is no force in this world strong enough to separate you from him. not even your tears and not even you.

you fold the velvety blanket in a slow but precise movement, your gaze locked on the person asleep on the other side of the room, suddenly hearing a loud roar of thunder crack outside your vision redirects to the large window. you hold your breath in fear of the storm abruptly waking him, thankfully it doesn’t happen and you stop mid-chore to trudge your way to the window so you could shut the curtains.

“everything is okay.” you shakily whisper to yourself.

your voice betrays you with that statement, you keep telling yourself that everything is alright, that you should be grateful that he isn’t cruel to you, that even in your rebellious and distasteful behavior for the past year he still showers you in finery and love.

it’s been awhile since you’ve thrown a fit at him. 

you took some of his words into your behavior ever since your last squabble, you tell yourself that what he has to offer is good. that maybe you’re in the wrong in this one, so for the past months no matter how much you want to resist, you don’t swat his hand away when he touches you, you don’t shove him away when he holds you and you keep your head in place when he kisses you to please him.

and god it certainly did. he already seemed to glimmer brighter when he took you back to his estate but when you stopped shoving him away, his presence was impalpable, he looked like was a king that finally had his queen.

but you? oh dear. 

all your reevaluation for your mindset did seem to work, there were moments when you enjoyed being with him. the late night dinners and touches that sometimes make your heartbeat a little too fast for your liking, his sweet words that move you which makes you think that it was too good to be true sometimes it makes you forget that he’s keeping you here against your own will.

oh.

it’s moments like these that make you stay still and cling to your fucking sanity, you want to get out of here. you do, but how? you are isolated in his home, no one in the staff treats you the same anymore they don’t listen to you unless you have a simple request. you have no one but the marquis, who is the last person that probably wants to hear about your desire to get out of here. your days are filled with him and only him, from the moment you wake up in bed he’s beside you, either in slumber or kissing you for the morning. you see him for meals three times a day until the sun sinks into the horizon where he makes love to you in the shadow of moonlight. not to mention the gallery viewing, watching operas and other superficial shit he likes.

you have no ally in here.

your form shakes and you cling to the table beside you, you want to leave so bad but every time you come up with an idea to leave it seems impossible. your former escape route has been rendered useless, you tried that the moment the marquis left you alone for the first time and it was barred shut with a guard stationed nearby. soon the marquis found out, he was livid and kept you locked in your room for a few days.

any chance of escape is hopeless even if you have no reason to want to stay here.

the storm brewing outside roars another loud burst of thunder, much louder than the previous one, the rain outside begins to shower even stronger. a cry erupts from the other side of the room and you sigh. you stare at the crib at the corner, a lamplight illuminating the dim room, you take a deep breath to compose yourself and make your way towards him.

your son.

with him.

it still makes you sick thinking about it.

you lift him into your arms and he immediately snuggles into your neck, his chubby arms slightly flailing around to feel your warmth. you shush him to sleep, whispering sweet nothings to soothe him. thankfully, his cries instantly die down and mumbles gibberish, slowly falling back to slumber. you found out you were pregnant around the time, you threw the vase at him. you felt frustrated and trapped, because how could this happen to you? 

you hold him tight, and softly swaddle him around to calm him even more. you know the saying “if there’s a will, there’s a way.”, well you had so much of that if it weren’t for the child you brought out into this world you would’ve been insistent on getting out of here. you love your son, you do. but you find it so hard to go on when the weight of a child is pulling you down from what you want.

this is the only reason why you were willing to try being with him. as if things weren’t hopeless enough for you, maybe things shouldn’t be so bad for your child. after all, vincent was quite cheerful when he found out.

you press a soft kiss to his head, whispering a gentle affirmation before tucking him back into his crib.

pushing the door to enter the inside, you reluctantly walk in. you’ve done this several times before, yet when you do it, it still doesn’t feel natural. the room was dim, little illuminessence was present and the light from your bed lamp was the only thing keep things seen. 

you walk towards the bedpost and something inside you makes you stop, a figure moves beneath the satin sheets and you hold your breath. he opens his eyes and sees you, confusion staining his expression. he immediately sits up and urges you forward.

“cherie? is something wrong?” vincent murmurs, his voice still hoarse from sleep. you don’t say anything but instead you abandon the bedpost and sit on the foot of the bed. you give him an empty stare and he stays quiet awaiting your reply.

“the storm woke him up.” you reply.

“oh? i’ll call for the nanny.” 

“don’t. i already put him back to sleep.” you mutter.

“then what seems to be the problem?” he raises his eyebrows.

you eye him like he grew a second head, matter of fact he might as well have with what he did to you.

“how-“ you start but a cry leaves your throat. tears begin to gather on your eyes, vincent alarmed with your state leans forward, “how could you do this to me?”

“what do you mean, my love?” he asks puzzled.

“what do i mean? i meant how could you do this to me!” your voice gets louder but not loud enough to be yelling, the rain outside pours even harder. 

“a year ago, i was just your assistant dealing with your meetings and setting your finery. you wouldn’t have even spared me a single glance unless you wanted a chef from monaco to cook you dinner considering i wasn’t significant enough to be known by you. i have to admit working for you was frightening but it was okay. i was alright with that.” you sob.

“this again.” he sighs.

“now, you locked me up here. a few months ago i was pregnant with your kid. mind you, even if you won’t say it i know you never wanted children. do you know how stupid this looks? how irrational and insensible this all seems? i’ve always known you to be cruel but this…this is torture. you’re playing house with my life like it’s some sick game” you reason not giving him a chance to speak.

“going through all these lengths because something in your sick head is telling you that you’re in love with me, acting like you wouldn’t discard me the moment you find me unworthy of your attention. ” you finish. he stays quiet from your little rant, dare you say a bit shocked. truth be told, it had been a while since you did this.

“what do you want me to do? tell me what to do, so i can make it better.” he demands, “i want you to be happy. i dislike seeing you miserable like this when you should be having the happiest time of your life. recently, we just had a child-“

“then let me go.” you cut him off, scooting closer to his side of the bed. you reach for his hands and he lets you, even when the expression on his face seems bitter.

“let me go home. i don’t want to be here, i feel trapped. at some point, you know that i don’t want you the same way you claim to want me. i don’t love you, i don’t think i can even if i tried my best. you need to let me leave, vincent.” you beg with all your heart.

vincent stays silent and wipes the tears on your face. he leans forward in resignation and delicately grazes his hand on your jaw making you look into him.

“my love. i don’t care how long it takes to make you realize that my feelings are genuine, that my acts aren’t based on flights of fancy, i’d spend the rest of my life proving it to you with a few more children around. you need to understand that i’m never letting you go, because i would simply die.” he whispers.

“you are mine. i am yours. not even you can deny that,  you belong to me and i, you. you are my love, i am too far gone to lose you. how many people are lucky enough to say that?”

he kisses you after that, his lips softly envelop yours and it shocks you but the feeling and taste are so familiar to you know. you don’t get the chance to say anything in return as you feel his hand dancing around your nightgown, you could feel it slowly slipping down. vincent’s hand dances around your skin, going through your curves that he’s felt before.

“and this is alright with you?” you mumble as he guides you to your back, pressing kisses on your neck.

“what is?” he pauses slightly looking up at you before continuing to leave a mark on your neck.

“that i’ll never want you…ever.” you trace your palm up to his jaw, caressing it while giving the poisonous blow.

this makes him halt all his movements and looks into you as if you’re serious. you might be.

“then i’ll have to simply have to live with it. love is never supposed to be easy.” he chuckles before kissing you again.

author’s note: this was short but enjoyed it lots bc there’s drama hehe. assistant!reader getting her licks before he goes down on her was a last minute thing…anyways if you were expecting peace and hugs from this fic hell to the nah i want angst. marquis is relentless afff. thanks for reading and pls like and reblog :)) also send some of ur requests!!

[crismakesstuff]

i want to talk about the significance of the song that plays during mark and ambers break up scene in s2 ep 7 of invincible: televangelism by ethel cain

Firstly we need to quickly summarize the story behind where this song comes from. Preachers daughter is a concept album follows the story of the character of ethel cain, a religious girl from the south as she experienced her first love die, becomes entangled with dangerous men, gets sold into sex work and eventually ends up getting killed and cannibalized by her lover.

that’s a very brief summary and I encourage you to listen to the full album because it’s better understood that way!

How does televangelism relate to mark and amber? It’s just a sad somber song that fits the mood of the scene right?

While yes it does fit the somber mood of the scene it has much deeper meaning to what’s happening, the songs chosen in invincible are done so VERY deliberately! In preachers daughter televangelism is track 11 and comes after august underground and ptolemaea. In accordance to the story of the album this is when the characters body has already passed (in august underground) and televangelism is the acceptance of that death with presumably the character of Ethel’s soul moving on during this song.

Back to mark and amber;

while they had been together for most of the season it clearly is a relationship that has been dying from the moment they got back together. It’s a painfully relatable situation to many, loving someone so much and wanting to be there for them but life getting in the way over and over.

You see it in their coffee date when mark returns from thraxa and how mark remarks how “this feels like a bad first date”. And mark missing being there for amber when her grandfather passed, and amber wanting to reach out for him but choosing to hold it in because she knows what he’s been through. This does neither of them good and simply adds to the internal strain and turmoil of their already strained relationship.

Then episode 7. Mark comes to her triumphant about how he has very very little time off that’s been barely allowed by cecil. To celebrate they have their iconic scene set to feel it by d4vid. It is the highest point of their relationship no doubt and incredibly sweet, which is them immediately undercut by anissa and her threatening to kill amber.

Mark and her fly off to fight and then mark returns to amber in her dorm. Who is understandably freaking out over what just happened.

I’ve seen imbeciles paint her reaction as “weakness”. Tell me quickly how you would react to a god human who could severe your head from your body with only a twitch of their fingers while you were on a date with your s/o? It’s a miracle she didn’t have a heart attack, amber is an undoubtedly strong willed individual so I will see none of that bullshit here.

Back to their breakup when televangelism begins to play. This scene is them not just ending their relationship but also the acceptance of the death of it. How even if anissa didn’t attack and threat amber, this was never going to last in the long run. They’ve been in denial for a while about their own feelings about being together but this is the acceptance of those feelings. They can’t be involved with each other like this without ultimately hurting one another, it will hurt but the pain will be less to let go than to hold on.

I won’t even lie the scene itself made me cry because at the time of it airing it hadn’t been very long since going through a break up of my own with a long term partner. It hit very close to home

This is an ultimately beautiful scene that I’m so glad had this song as a backing track to it. One of my favorite albums ever in one of my favorite shows ever. I truly do hope we see more of amber in the future and have more Ethel Cain songs in the future too

if you read this far u get a ghost shaped cookie 👻🍪

[nikolai-alexi]

For @jegulus-microfic Prompt: Savour WC: 890

Tags: bipolar James, manic episode, very unreliable narrator, bipolar Barty Crouch Jr, psychosis hallucination, mild violence, James is extremely touch adverse during a mania episode like this, Regulus is Going Through It, James gets the wrong impression eavesdropping on Reg/Barty/Evan’s conversation while they think he’s asleep, Reg is overwhelmed and guilty, James is Unwell, Evan is over everyone’s shit and really doesn’t like James’ friends, Barty is a good friend, Sirius/Remus/Pete don’t just abandon James in this they’re there and they probably went to go get help but James has no clue what’s going on around him really so they just aren’t featured, Evan still holds a grudge against Sirius specifically and (though he won’t admit it) he feels angry on James’ behalf because none of them realised he was struggling so he’s an ass to them, apparently manic episodes are a lot harder to write when you can’t remember what your own are like when you have them

James is aware he shouldn’t be laughing. He’s aware of the stares branding their way under his skin. He feels acutely every disgusted look thrown his way and he hears every scoff. He’s aware he shouldn’t be laughing. But he can’t stop.

Someone has turned off the party’s music. Unfortunate, that. If they kept it going maybe he could pass it off that he’d just drank too much. It’s worked for him before. He still can’t stop laughing. His lungs burn for oxygen and his stomach is cramping and his vision is blurry and his skin is crawling and he can’t stop fucking laughing.

He can’t tell how long it takes until his hysterical laughter subsides into maniacal giggles, “Savour it,” he chokes out, still giggling, “Perfect fucking Potter isn’t so perfect!”

He throws his arms wide and spins a circle in the middle of the common room, still giggling, “Someone ought to call the Prophet! Let them know that the only thing James Potter actually is, is fucking crazy!”

He thinks he’s lost his glasses, because whoever is standing in front of him is unrecognisable with how blurry everything is.

“C’mon, J,” they say. Oh! It’s Barty! Barty knows alllll about being batshit fucking crazy, doesn’t he?

His glasses are set back on his face with very careful movements. Barty knows what James can be like like this. He probably doesn’t want another broken nose. James isn’t sure he’d feel it if someone broke his nose. Would he feel it if he broke his own nose? Or would he only think he felt it because he knew it was coming?

“No one is going to break anyone’s nose, James,” Barty says, sternly, in a voice that sounds eerily similar to Regulus’ ‘shut up and quit being stupid’ voice. He must have spoken aloud. Oopsies.

A shadow appears behind Barty, and before James knows it, his body is flying through the air. Is he trying to run from it? Fight it? Who knows. He doesn’t. But he can’t stand that stupid fucking shadow starring at him. There’s a sharp pressure on the side of his head and everything goes black.

Next thing he knows, he’s hearing hushed voices to the side of him. He doesn’t have the energy to open his eyes, so he just stays still and listens.

“Why the fuck would you knock him out, Barty?!” Regulus’s voice is high, despite being quiet. He must be really upset about something.

“Reg,” Barty sighs, it sounds like he’s been repeating the words for a while, “He went to attack, what I assume was, one of his hallucinations and came after me as a result. You know we can’t restrain him. He just panics and hurts himself. The only thing I could do to get him out of there and keep him safe was knock him out.”

The breath seems to exit Regulus’ chest in one swift ‘whoosh’, “Yeah,” he sighs, “I know,”

A chair slides roughly across the floor, “It’s not your fault, Reg,” Barty murmurs quietly.

Regulus scoffs, “I should have seen the signs. I should have known he was going to have an episode,”

“Bullshit, Regulus. You’re in the middle of your OWLS prep. You’ve been holed in the library for the last two weeks. How many times have you even gotten to see him in the last month?”

Someone stands up and begins pacing, James reckons it must be Regulus. He always paces when he’s agitated, “That’s just the thing, Barty! I haven’t seen him more than once or twice since the Quidditch match with Gryffindor and Slytherin. I’ve been too damn busy to notice anything was wrong!”

A new voice chimes in, “Sit the fuck down, Regulus,” Ah, Evan’s joined the fray.

James can nearly see the death glare mixed with a pout that Regulus sends Evan as he plops ungracefully into his chair.

“Potter is not your responsibility. No, shut the fuck up and listen to me, Regulus,” James wants to chuckle, because only a Rosier can talk to Regulus like that and get away with it, “Potter is not your responsibility. You both discussed how stressful these next two months were going to be for you. He understood and respected your need for space, and other than making sure you’re taking care of yourself, he hasn’t pushed. You haven’t seen him more than a couple of times, how would you have noticed anything was wrong?”

Regulus makes a distressed noise, but doesn’t interrupt.

“Potter is not your responsibility. If anyone should have noticed something was wrong, it should have been your brother, or Lupin, or Pettigrew, or hell, even McGonagall. But they didn’t. And that’s not your fucking problem. That’s on them.”

“You’ve said it yourself, Reg,” Barty says, quietly, “James is really good at hiding this from people. He kept it from his best friends, his teachers, and classmates for six years. Hell, I deal with the same shit he does and I didn’t even connect the dots until the beginning of this year.”

There’s a resigned sigh from Regulus. James thinks he might be scrubbing a hand down his face like he does when he’s stressed. The thought makes guilt pool in his gut.

“I know you’re right,” Regulus says quietly, “It’s just…a lot. Right now. It’s all just a lot to deal with right now,”

And James can’t stop the sound that’s something between a crushing sob and hysterical laughter bubble out of his throat. Here I go again, he thinks, destroying everything good in my life because I’m too fucking much. He blacks out again.

[rosewolfs-world]

Colourful (Pt 7)

Young Toshinori x Fem OC

Warnings: Cursing & mentions of prior SA

Year 6 - The End

☀️ Hinata was an angel. Toshinori swore on his soul from then on--no one else. No one else would look after him as she did. No one else could rally their friends to support him as she could. She talked him through everything, and together they agreed to let David report a man with…‘the American’s description to the police. Then, with Hinata clutching his hand in the waiting room, Toshinori would see their friend Zoe—now a practising counsellor. On other days, when it was just the two of them--together they would sit and talk about anything. Just like they used to do. She was his first smile. Born of newfound strength and...something more. 

💡 Days have been a blur. Between school and work and supporting Toshinori these past months, daylight seems to fly away. Nights are always worse. Hinata is sure she could get multiple people to agree with her. After Hinata goes home and the sun goes down, Jason is there. First, they talk. Then they bark. Then they snap. Then they shout.

“You’re working yourself to the bone, Hinata. You’ve gotta drop him.”

“What?”

“That big blonde pansy you keep hanging around. He’s just going to keep dragging you down.”

“Wait wha—How could you say that?!”

“Cause I know his type. All he needed was a good screw. Get rid of that hyper-masculine bullshit heroes are always on. Then I figured he’d leave us alone….”

“I’m sorry—ec-fucking-scuse me? You-you-”

“No. Whatever it is you’re thinking, I did not—”

“You assaulted him. You violated my best friend!”

“Oh, don’t fucking act like he’s just your—“

“Don’t. Pack your bags. I’m calling the cops, and you’re getting the hell out of my house. “

“Hina—”

“GET OUT!!”

☀️ Then, out of the blue, Toshinori gets a call. He recognises the ringtone immediately, the profile image even more so. He swipes his phone from the desk without hesitation. “Hinata?” “Toshi--” The young medic’s voice was a shaky command. “-- I need you to come over. Right now.” Toshinori’s nerves hardened immediately. “I’m on my way.”

💡 Hearing a crisp knock at the door, Hinata’s stomach twisted. Oh God, it’s him. How do I--? Her nails carved half-moons into her palms. Snap out of it. You resolved to tell him. If he hates you afterwards, so be it. With one deep breath, Hinata stomped her way to the door and beckoned him in. Her grip on the doorknob was near the point of trembling. She bit her cheek. Keep it together, Shimura! All the while, Toshinori kept his eyes on her as he stood in the entryway. 

☀️“Hinata? I’m here. What is it? What’s wrong?”

💡“I-” The young woman’s eyes dropped to his shoes before she could stop herself. “Toshinori, I’m sorry--” Her exhale hissed between gritted teeth. “If I had seen through him sooner, none of this would have happened. I should never have let him in in the first place. I never wanted--”

☀️“Wait, what-who are you referring to?”

💡“Jason, he said that-! He was the person that attacked you.”

☀️At that, Toshinori froze. His heavy hands are perceptibly shivering at his sides. “...What?”

💡“My ex-boyfriend assaulted you to scare you out of my life. God knows that logic doesn’t make any sense, but--Ergh! And, of course, by trying to keep myself safe, I end up endangering you instead. Just my fucking luck!”

☀️“--Hina, what do you mean? I won’t--” 

💡Hinata hid her face in her hands, casting her vision into shadow. “I’m sorry, Toshi, this is all my fault. I was foolish and scared and--”

☀️“Of course, it isn’t!”

💡“I hid my feelings behind someone else! And, of course, they end up hurting the one I never wanted to see hurt again. Try again and tell me that this isn’t my fault.”

☀️“It’s not! What are you saying, Hina? What feelings were you trying to hide?”

💡“My feelings for you, you blonde buffoon! You are a hero who puts himself in danger every minute of the day like every other loved one I’ve ever lost. God, what is wrong with me?”

☀️Toshinori’s expression fell, utterly blank as if every other thought had left his head except: “--You love me?”

💡 Hinata’s expression crumpled. Her eyes burned. She tried to scrub the burn away with the heels of her hands. “The moment I realized--I couldn’t do it. I chose someone I thought was safe. What a stupid mistake. I’m sorry….”

☀️“Hinata...why didn’t you just talk to me about it?”

💡“Cause I didn’t even want to admit it to myself. I couldn’t bear the thought of bearing my soul to you and then losing you in a burning building the next day.” Hinata confessed. “You remember the last time you were hospitalized?”

☀️“Yes?”

💡“That day...I was thinking about telling you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Then I-I looked in a shop window and saw your face on the news. You were on a gurney headed to emergency care. At that moment--I’d never felt so scared. Ever. I was rooted to the ground and couldn’t move. All I could think was- It’s happening again. I’m going to lose him. I can’t lose you, Toshi-I can’t--”

☀️“You should have told me. Why didn’t you just tell me? Hina--”

💡“Well, I know that NOW!” Hinata snapped. She could sense the lightbulbs fizzling above her head. She took a deep breath. “-I didn’t want to get hurt again, so I-I tried to find another anchor. Jason was a desk jockey, not likely to get himself in any kind of trouble. He was stable; he was safe--turns out he was a fucking douchebag who thought that the way to stop me caring about you was to hurt you. I just--GOD, I fucking lost it.”

☀️“...Is he dead?”

💡“Wha-No! I didn’t kill the guy. Who do you take me for?!”

☀️“I was just about to say I would’ve covered for you if you did.”

💡“Toshinori!”

☀️“Hina, I’ve loved you since I was eighteen. We’ve known each other for six years, and I have loved you all that time.”

💡The young medic clasped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep herself from sobbing. That burning behind her eyes just wouldn’t go away. And no matter how much she held her breath, her skin felt uncomfortably warm. Her voice was tight behind trembling fingers. “Toshi...”

☀️“You-you have to know that I care about you, right? I am many things, but even I know subtlety is not my strong suit.”

💡A laugh broke through her cinched throat before she could stop herself. “There’s not a soul in the world that doesn’t,” She chuckled. “Everyone knows how kind and warm you are. I assumed that was the way you treated everyone, Hero.”

☀️“Hero, I may be, but you are the only fan who means so much to me.”

💡Hinata ducked her head. “Okay, now you’re just being sappy.”

☀️“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” Toshinori insisted. “I don’t know what--he thought when he made that choice. But it was not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

💡“I know that. Logically I know that. I just--” Hinata pinched the bridge of her nose, that tense and uncomfortable burning resurging with a vengeance. “I should’ve been looking out for you. I never should’ve let myself get so wrapped up that I forgot I was still supposed to be your friend. I’ve done a crappy job of that lately, and I’m sorry.” 

☀️“Hina,” He choked, “Come here, Sunflower.” The hero opened his arms. With those words, Hinata finally came undone. She fell into him instantly. “We can look out for each other. You are my best friend, and I love you. Of course, I forgive you. Can you forgive me?” 

💡The young medic looked up at him. Her chin propped on the centre of his chest. Her brows cinched together somewhere between confusion and concern. “What for?”

☀️“I should have been honest sooner. About my feelings for you.”

💡“There’s nothing to forgive, not if we’re both guilty of the same thing,” she told him, “I love you. That’s all that matters in the end.”

[nowoyas]

Edible Arrangements 27

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Read on Ao3

A/N: WE REMAIN ON SCHEDULE. I also figured out how to make formatting not break when copying from Scrivener, so this went much faster! Have a, uh, Thanksgiving chapter in December, lmao

Chapter Summary: It's nearly Friendsgiving! You finalize your project with Neito and have a good time with your friends.

Warnings: Some medical talk regarding dislocated bones, the general existence of Thanksgiving

Word Count: 3800+

You regret to admit as much, but you might actually not totally despise Neito. Sure, there’s still that lingering unease around him, and no, you still won’t meet him without backup, not even after three weeks of uneventful project work interspersed with angry debates. But… weeks of chatting with him and no major incidents have steeled your nerves. All the lingering unease is just that—lingering. And now the end of this stupid philosophy project is in sight, and you’re nearly free, and you find yourself actually willing to have pleasant conversation with him, not an underlying accusation in sight.

(Of course, none of that to say the conversation wasn’t awkward. Just less unpleasant.)

Mina was on duty today, but she’s stepped away to the restroom, leaving you to make conversation alone. “So, uh,” you start, closing your laptop at the end of your final pass-through of the paper. “Doing anything for break?”

Neito’s fingers still on his laptop keyboard. You’ve got no idea what he was typing, but you know it wasn’t in your shared Google doc. His wheels turn for a moment before he answers.

“I’m not sure. I… My… Things are weird now. With my family.”

You hum as you pack up. “I guess it’s your first holiday as, uh… this.”

He nods. “I can’t say I’m on very good terms with Itsuka after this. The drive home will be rough.”

“Itsuka? The one who turned you, right? Is she…”

“My stepsister,” he finishes. “We ended up at the same university. She’s… I can’t say I’ve really talked with her about all this.”

“You haven’t?” You raise an eyebrow. “What, have you just been avoiding each other for the past month?”

Neito lets out the longest sigh he can hold. “Essentially, yes. I woke up, she told me about what I need to know as a new vampire, and then we haven’t had a real conversation since. It’s all, ‘are you adjusting well?’ and ‘getting on okay in your classes?’ The rest of the time, we’re just… hovering around each other.”

“Is it because you don’t want to talk to her, or because she doesn’t want to talk to you?”

“Neither, I think.” He runs a hand through his hair. Maybe it’s only because you hadn’t spent much time together, but he’s looked more disheveled in the past weeks than you had ever noticed before. “Or maybe… maybe I don’t know how to talk to her anymore. How do you talk to someone after that? Perhaps I was in the wrong when I took it on myself to hunt innocent people, thinking myself a hero, but… even if I deserved the consequences received, I don’t know how to talk to someone who hurt me so deeply.”

You sigh. It’s clear that he’s hurting a lot from this, and your sympathy wars with the ongoing aches in your arm. “Have you considered getting a therapist?”

“Hm?”

“I mean, like, I’ve been through some shit. I mean, obviously.” You gesture to your scarring arm. “But even before that, there’d been some bullshit. I went to therapy for a little while after that. Would’ve kept going if my finances didn’t tank, but either way, my therapist was really cool.”

“Some bullshit?” He raises an eyebrow. “Like what, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh that? I got stabbed. And some other stuff, too, I guess, but it wasn’t all that important.”

He hums thoughtfully, fingers returning to flying across his keyboard with whatever he’s doing. “You said your therapist was good? Can you point me their way?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s, uh… shit. What was her name?” You genuinely can’t remember. It’s hazy, a name on the tip of your brain, but every time you brush against it, it slips away. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember. I’ll dig into my records when I’m home, I sure I wrote down her info when I was still seeing her.”

“Don’t worry about it; take as much time as you need. I admit I’m a bit wary of seeing a therapist without a good recommendation, so it would be of great help to me.”

“Yeah, sure! I’ll submit stuff tonight and go digging for my old therapist’s info for you. Sound good?”

“Please.”

It’s bitter, mostly, this sort of parting. Mina returns from the bathroom, and you gather up your stuff in relative silence. Things could have been different, you think, but then your arm brushes against the metal of your chair and leaves an angry burn behind, and you shake it off.

You’ll get him his therapist, and then you’ll be done with this, all of it.

~

You make your way home. You’ve got a kitten to play with, a paper to submit, and a therapist’s info to dig up. You call out to Izuku on your way in, but no one replies, just Sbeve barreling at you at top speeds from the top of the stairs. Sbeve’s proven to be quite the cuddle bug, curling right up in your arms as you walk around the house looking for Izuku.

He’s not downstairs. He’s not in the basement. You don’t find him in the kitchen, the library, or his secret study. Then, just for completion’s sake, you glance outside and realize his car isn’t even here. He must not have mentioned he was going out.

No matter. It just gives you time to focus on other things—Sbeve to cuddle up with you while you go through your laptop. A chill, quiet night in. You can work with that.

~

The group of them meets up on campus, the sun already having set in the November cold. They meet up under a streetlamp outside the library. In attendance: Tsuyu and Mina, representing the only humans present. Also in attendance: Izuku, Neito, Hitoshi, and an unexpected face, accompanying Hitoshi.

Neito is the first to recognize him. “Dr. Aizawa?”

“Monoma. You have a project due tonight, as I recall.”

He shakes his head, waves it off. “We finalized it earlier. [name] should be submitting it sometime right around now.”

He nods, lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Sorry for crashing the Disenthrallment Council or whatever you’re calling it. Hitoshi asked me for advice, as his sire, so I guess I’m also helping out with this.”

“No, no problem!” Izuku says, waving his hands a touch frantically. “It’s rare to see you outside of staff meetings!”

Dr. Aizawa arches an eyebrow at him. “You don’t even work on campus.”

“Well, I… Y-yeah, I guess so!” He clams right back up.

“So, then. Who’s leading this, anyway?”

“Leading?” Mina echoes. “No one’s really a leader here. We’re not really directed enough for that.”

“I’ll start us off, then. I don’t have all night.”

“R-right…”

“What’s the current status on trying to disenthrall this student?”

Tsuyu raises her hand, more out of instinct than anything. “We’ve just gotten information from Tenya about what the enthrallment covers this week. We’re still figuring out a strategy, kero.”

Neito nods. “We thought to start trying by sort of prying at the “edges” of their memory, but…”

“What’s the “edge” of a memory, anyway?” Mina complains. “It’s fine to say that, but what does that even mean?”

“Like where their memories are weak?”

She hums, dissatisfied with the answer.

“I thought I was finding the edge of one of those memories at the end of our project meeting today, but it seems I was unsuccessful… I doubt I’ll, personally, have many more opportunities.” Neito sighs. “It’s a shame, too.”

Dr. Aizawa looks over each of them slowly, tired eyes closing as he thinks. “So, what you’re trying to do is get them to focus on the weaker parts of the thrall?”

“Yeah,” Hitoshi says. “We’re looking, basically, for bits of memories where they don’t seem to change the subject as quickly, and pressing those.”

“Why don’t you look for a way to force them to look at the memories as a whole?” he asks.

Izuku shakes his head. “It’s no good. They start reacting pretty negatively, and last time, they got a very serious headache. I’m worried that it’ll create more damage by forcing them to face the thrall head-on.”

“Are you worried it’ll hurt them, or are you worried that it’ll be uncomfortable?”

“Well, I… it’s not that, i-it’s just…”

Dr. Aizawa sighs. “You were a medical doctor at one point, weren’t you? Have you ever handled a dislocated shoulder?”

Izuku cringes a bit. “I have. And I understand what you’re saying, but—“

“Then you know that sometimes forcing a patient through the pain is necessary for them to do any healing.”

“But it should be done by a trained professional!” he protested. “You risk so much more damage to the dislocated joint if you put it back without the correct training, the correct precautions, the right approach and technique and—“

“Do you think you’ll find anyone who has that training in this situation? As far as I’ve heard, no one alive knows how to do what you kids are trying to do. There are no experts, and there is no right approach or any sort of training. You’re just going to have to do the painful thing.”

“I don’t… I don’t know about all that…” Izuku says, quietly and to himself. The conversation is already blazing forward without his enthusiasm.

“If you were to take the route of forcing them to acknowledge their own memories, then I guess the best route would be to present them with evidence of things they’ve forgotten. They’ve had their memories overwritten, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“There should be evidence somewhere to prove what’s actually happened. If they’ve got pictures hidden somewhere from back then, or if there were videos of them doing something they don’t remember doing, for example. Give them something they can’t look away from.”

“In other words,” Neito says, his phone buzzing in his hand, “smash the thrall.”

He checks the text, an eyebrow raised.

[name] to Neito at 6:04 PM

[name]: okay so project’s uploaded

[name]: I did some digging and found an email exchange with my old therapist

[name]: looks like she’s not currently open to new patients, but she’s got a waitlist you can get on to be contacted when she’s got time

[name]: anyways here’s her page

[name]: small.link/clear-skies-clinic

[name]: I remember her being really, really good and helpful, so hopefully she’ll be useful to you and everything. there wasn’t really much of anything I couldn’t tell her and feel comfy.

[name]: good luck with your new biting thing. or whatever.

Neito’s eyebrow arches higher. Not much they couldn’t tell her…

Neito: When did you see her, again?

[name]: weird question, but ok

[name]: like, two-ish years ago

“I guess I have some old pictures? But [name] might just think they were taken after they and Tenya “met”…” Mina has a hand on her shoulder as she brainstorms.

“We’ll have to spend some time gathering evidence.”

Dr. Aizawa nods. “It has to be enough evidence that they can’t possibly come up with an argument for it. I don’t think just a few pictures is going to cut it.”

Neito tunes them out, opening up the link you sent. There it is—the therapist’s contact info, a professional picture of her—pleasant expression, glasses, white hair with little shocks of red. Below the photo, the text reads: Dr. Fuyumi Todoroki: Licensed Mental Health Counselor, EdD, LCMHC, LCAS.

“Hey. Van Helsing wannabe.”

Neito’s eyes snap away from the therapist’s email address. “Hm?”

“Wow, you actually answered to that.”

He rolls his eyes. “What?”

“Are you listening or what?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Our resident thrall was texting.”

Hitoshi rolls his eyes in return. “If you could pay attention, that would be great.”

“No, no, I think the distraction was good. How long do you suppose therapists keep their notes?”

“If they’re following local regulations, seven years, kero.” Tsuyu tilts her head. “Why are you asking?”

“I may have something of a debatably ethical idea.”

~

Fall break settles nicely around you. All projects out of the way, homework binged on the first day of break, finds you instead focused on texting and trying to coordinate any kind of holiday feast with your friends. Draped across the living room couch, you text, keeping one eye on the little ball of fluff perched atop the cat tree.

capris are for drinking to Friendliest Friends at 1:59PM

capris are for drinking: Alright bitches it’s noon I need you to wake up and sound off @ET come home

ET come home: excuse you, I’ve been in the dance studio since like 6am

ribbit: that doesn’t actually disprove that you were sleeping

capris are for drinking: @I Must Proceed With Speed sound off

I Must Proceed With Speed: Oh, good. Someone changed my nickname again.

ET come home: <3

capris are for drinking: <3

ribbit: <3

capris are for drinking: it is now officially fall break!

ET come home: fall break started yesterday

capris are for drinking: not according to the fall 2050 academic calendar it didn’t!

capris are for drinking: anyways shut up

capris are for drinking: and give me your guyseseses schedules

capris are for drinking: we need to coord friendsgiving and I’m free infinitely at the moment so I’m the common denominator

You hear movement behind you. Sbeve hasn’t left line of sight, which leaves one option…

“Hey, Izuku. Plans for holiday stuff this week?”

Izuku freezes in the doorway to the kitchen area, staring at you blankly. “Oh. I forgot about Thanksgiving.”

You shake your head. “Not Thanksgiving. But we do do a Friendsgiving-type thing. I’m working on organizing it with the usual group, but we will need to figure out where to host. We could do it here, if you’re okay with it…? Obviously you’re invited.”

“I’ve got no plans or anything, so feel free! I can help put it all together and everything, too.”

“We do it like a potluck feast. Mina, Tsuyu, and Tenya all would be bringing stuff, so we won’t be worrying about all of the food.”

He comes to lean on the back of the couch as you text and talk. “So who’s in charge of what?”

“We haven’t figured it out yet. Let’s see…”

ET come home: I’m good for tomorrow if you guys are

I Must Proceed With Speed: I don’t have any particular plans, though the notice is short

capris are for drinking: yeah, sorry about that! it’s been… you know, a lot, recently.

capris are for drinking: school bullshit and prepping for exams and like, writing an entire paper with… well, you know, tenya

capris are for drinking: what about saturday? would that work better?

I Must Proceed With Speed: much better.

ribbit: works for me!

ET come home: I’m down!

capris are for drinking: great. zuku says we can host here if that’s okay?

ET come home: oh good more excuses for you not to leave the house ;)

capris are for drinking: fuck you <3

Their agreements sound off, and soon, with Izuku peeking over your shoulder and offering suggestions, food is coordinated. It’ll take some time preparing—in fact, probably the rest of today planning and shopping—but you wouldn’t miss it for the world.

~

Planning is, actually, the worst part. You find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter, notebook in front of you, head in your hands as Izuku takes inventory of the fridge and pantry.

“I can’t do it,” you moan. “It’s so much thinking. My brain’s too fried.”

“It’s not that bad. Look, what does Tsuyu always bring?”

“Kickasserole.”

“Is… is that the official name?”

“Didn’t used to be, but we renamed it. It’s kickasserole these days.”

He laughs, then nods. “Okay, so we don’t need to worry about the casserole. What’s Mina always bring?”

“Pie. Oh my god her pie is so good. She brings, like, four of them. We don’t need to worry about dessert.”

“Great! No worries about dessert, then. What’s Tenya bring?”

“Tenya always brings the turkey, but he hasn’t been coming ever since his—“

You stop. Furrow your brow.

…

..

.

“…sorry,” you say after a long moment. That’s strange. You had a sentence in your head, but it just… vanished. “My head kinda hurts, lost my train of thought there. So I was saying, that leaves us with bread rolls, mashed potatoes, drinks. Mina does alcohol, but Tsuyu’s not much of a drinker, so we should have another option or two on deck.”

Izuku watches you for a second. You shift under his gaze, nervously turning back to your notes. “What was it you were saying before?” he asks after a moment.

“What?”

“Tenya hasn’t been coming ever since what?”

You arch a brow. “What are you talking about? I just met Tenya in, like, January. Of course he hasn’t been coming.”

“I’m just saying, y-you didn’t even think about including him in your plans, right? You just already knew to do so.”

“Yeah? Friendsgiving is with the lunch bunch. It’s not like I’d exclude him. We’re over that whole fight, I think. And I’m not the only one deciding, after all.”

“But he also didn’t seem surprised by your suddenly bringing it up,” he presses. “Isn’t that weird?”

You shrug. “I probably brought it up like, last week and just forgot. We run into each other on campus all the time.”

He frowns, but says nothing, and you return to planning, then to shopping, then to prepping, all in a smooth line.

~

Tenya is the first to arrive that day, carrying in a hefty tray with you-know-exactly-what as you hold Sbeve back. He sets it down, and it’s not long until the other two arrive—Mina with her pies, carried in in two trips, and Tsuyu with her kickasserole. The meal settles in, your friends with it, and the day passes without incident. Even Tenya and Izuku seem to be getting close to getting along. Kind of.

They leave in the opposite order they came. Tsuyu has to leave to pick up her brother from his friend’s house, Mina rolls out with a sly look that implies she’s wanting to give you alone time with your housemate. Tenya is the one who lingers, petting Sbeve’s head with three thick fingers in your living room as you walk him to the door.

“Thanks for coming,” you say at the door.

He nods. “Of course.”

“It was short notice and all.”

“I really don’t mind. It’s good to be flexible!”

You sigh, smiling as not even a hint of a glow comes to him. “Thank you, then.”

There’s a moment where both of you pause at the door. The pair of you stand there, not speaking. Sbeve’s purring fills the silence between you, and in that air, your questions hang.

You wonder where Tenya gets his drinks. He’s never so much as looked at you, Mina, or Tsuyu for blood, although your collective knowledge of his vampirism is fairly recent. Still, to not even have asked… has there ever been a moment where he seemed to be off? Thirsty? Is it the family hospital? How would his brother feel if—

…his brother?

“…say, Tenya—“

“Before I go, I’d like to speak with you,” he says, and he’s not looking at you. His eyes are past you, where Izuku has frozen on his way into the kitchen with plates in hand.

“O-oh! Uh, no problem. Would you prefer this be private, or—“

He barely takes a moment to consider it. “Yes, actually. If you don’t mind, [name]…”

“No, no! Go right ahead.”

Your vampires head further in, and you’re left with Sbeve, sitting on the couch with Tenya’s dish, waiting for them to have their talk.

~

“I need to apologize to you.”

Tenya says it before the door’s even closed, his voice low, and Izuku bristles.

“O-okay?”

When the door clicks closed, Tenya lets out a long, sad sigh, his hand lingering on the doorknob. “I have been unfair to you from the moment [name] mentioned you. I’m sorry for that.”

Izuku is silent, staring at him with a furrowed brow. When Tenya lets him marinate in the silence, he gives in to speaking. “Why are you apologizing now?”

“Stop trying to break their thrall. The others will be fine, but…”

“Why?”

“You haven’t gone through the information I sent you?”

“I know that the two of you have known each other for a while, but…”

Tenya meets his eyes, a deep-set frown on his lips. “Their thrall is likely not possible to break. But if it is, and you do it, you will be driving them away. They will likely remember who they were when they were enthralled, and though I don’t deserve it, if they truly remember me…”

“I get it. That’s a choice [name] will have to make for themselves.”

“You’re going to keep trying? Even if it means you lose them?”

“It’s not about that. I’m doing this for them, not me.”

Izuku has to wonder. He hates it, but he has to wonder: would he be lying, in your eyes?

“I’m sure there’s plenty that you’re smarter than me about. You have the years and experience to have reached that point, not to mention far too much schooling. But I think you’re doing something incredibly stupid by choosing to keep on with this.”

Tenya cracks the door, about to leave. Izuku flashes him a thin smile. “Thank you for apologizing.”

“I doubt it will happen again.”

Izuku watches Tenya leave. He needs a moment to himself.

~

Tenya comes to you alone, Izuku nowhere in sight. You nearly miss him on his way out the door, though your attention snaps to him the moment you hear him.

“Mind if I ask what all that was about?”

“I do, unfortunately,” he says.

You smile. “No worries.”

There it is again. That awkwardness. There’s something hanging in the air. A kind of tension in your chest, a closure that’s missing, that can never come, because you haven’t the first clue what you’re even looking for.

“Thank you again. I know you don’t like Izuku, so… thank you for playing nice with him tonight. Please tell me you weren’t in there threatening him again.”

“No, nothing of the sort.”

To your relief, he isn’t lying. You pass him back his dish, brain reaching for the question you’d wanted to ask him before, but you can’t seem to get a grip on it.

“Have a good night, Tenya.”

This is weird. This is really weird.

He pulls you into a hug, soft and big and painful on a level you can’t understand.

“Good night, [name].”

On your porch, he pauses, looking back at you. “Before I forget. You wanted to ask something before, didn’t you? Sorry I interrupted you.”

You shake your head. “I can’t remember what it was. Don’t worry about it, okay, Tenya?”

He nods and bids you one last goodnight. You watch him go.

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[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Tired. (1)

AKERUUU! KURIPAAAAA!

* Everyone scrambles over to the cloud of dust formed by the impact! Makoto, in the lead, screams out for the both of them.

*COUGH!* *COUGH!* H-Here...!

Akeru!

*Toko, carrying Komaru on her back rushes over and they both pull her into a tight hug.

A-Are you ok!?

Yeah...I thought I was gonna die, but...!

...

*Akeru turns around to look at Kuripa, who lies on his back, his eyes lacking light.

Is...is he...!?

No. Kurafto’s far too tenacious to just up and die like that. He can’t be dead!

*TRUDGE!* *TRUDGE!* *TRUDGE!*

*Everyone looks up in dismay, as Sage Robot Hannibal X lands in front of them, and starts taking heavy steps towards them.

“I made a mistake...I should have killed the crazy one first...”

Grgh...Even after all that, he’s still standing high and mighty.

We’ve unleashed almost everything we’ve got on this thing and it’s done basically NOTHING!

“I choose to think of it as a sign that my will is stronger than yours...Perhaps grandiose ways of execution are too easy to escape...“In that case...die HERE!”

*FWOOOOSHH!*

*Katagiri readies his rifle and launches a homing rocket out of the rifle, which zooms towards the group.

NRRGH!

!!??

*But all of a sudden, Makoto rushes forward and holds out his arms.

I WON’T LET YOU!

MAKOTO, DON’T! 

MOOOVE!

*CHUNK!*

...

...Huh...!?

...!

*Makoto is ready to take the rocket dead on and protect everyone else, but right before it can make it’s impact, Kuripa lurches up and grabs the end of it. Somehow, he overpowers the thrust.

“What!?”

Hey dickwad! I think this is YOURS!

*FWOOOSH!* *BOOOOMM!*

“DAGH!”

*Using the still-active thrusters to his advantage, Kuripa whirls around and throws the rocket back at Katagiri. The blast hits the robot dead on and sends it flying.

Trgh!

Kuripa!

How-Wha...whaat...!? How did you do thaat?

Ngh...Irrelevant...Is everyone alright?

Us!? What about you!? You just fell like...50 Feet and caught a rocket!

You bleeding and bruised. We need to get you help!

No...No we don’t...Grh...I’m not injured...I’m just tired...

Tired?

Yeah...tired of arguing over different ideals...tired of all this...contemplating-the-meaning-of-life-and-the-idea-of-immortality-and-how-it-betters-humanity-bullshit...

Tired of watching sicko’s try to hurt and kill good people for their own twisted gain and ideals...

“HRRAGH!”

He’s coming back!

Brace yourselves!

But above all else? I’m so very tired...

*CHUNK!*

“!!!??”

*Katagiri rushes in wielding an arm blade, bringing it down on Kuripa...who catches it with with one hand.

Tired...Of holding back...!

“Wha-!? WHAAAHAH!?”

*He grasps the blade tightly, and holds it up, lifting the robot into the air!

HHRRYYAAAAGH!

EVERYONE GET DOWN!

“GAAAAAAAH!?”

*CRAAAASH!*

*With Mii-Yu’s shout, everyone ducks down as Kuripa spins Katagiri’s robot around, and tosses it towards the trees. The throw is strong and the impact is fierce; several trees getting blown out of their roots.

*vicious panting!*

What...the hell are we watching!?

Ngh...

*Kuripa turns back to everyone, tiredness in his body but determination in his eyes.

I think one too many kids have been dropped out of the sky today. The longer this fight goes on, the less likely we can keep this battle contained here in the park. The surrounding area is also in danger.

None of you guys are fit to fight any longer. Go treat your wounds and if you can stand, get everyone on this city block to safety. Rantaro. Get Agent Static on the line and tell her to do the same. Use whatever fancy schmancy ERR0RM3SS4GE tech you have available to do it.

What are you gonna do?

I’m gonna pop down the road and get us some jam. The fuck do you THINK I’m gonna do!? SOMEONE’S gotta destroy that robot.

I don’t care what kind of ridiculous display of strength you just showed. You’re injured too. There’s no way you can fight that thing, especially not by yourself.

Hah! You just watch me.

*Kuripa turns his back.

Kuripa, wait! What if you end up dying!? Then what!?

...

Better me than anyone you actually care about. Like your niece for instance.

But I...

Boss.

...!

I’m not gonna let this bastard kill me. I have too many things I still need to do.

Sorry to disappoint you all...But I’m not dying here today. Now that I’ve got a feel of this fight, I’m confident. Not just that I can win...

*He turns around again.

I’m going to cross every single one of that trash heap’s wires and shove the gears down Katagiri’s throat...!? Kehahaha!

Part 2

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 || (very dark) 70s!Bucky x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: he tried to be sympathetic to your cause, he really did, but he couldn’t just let you get away with disrespecting him like that.  

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.4k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut (noncon, plus breeding kink and tons of degradation, like very heavy degradation, and multiple orgasms/overstimulation), misogyny, a bit of dumbification, housewife kink, ‘sir’ kink (brief), choking, implied anal, spitting (not on the reader, unfortunately lmao), quite a bit more than period-typical sexism, awful awful awful this fic is absolutely awful

                            Brooklyn, 1970.

Bucky’s mornings were sacred.  He had his rituals: showering, cooking breakfast, reading the paper and having his first drink and cigarette of the day, all before he left for work.

But throughout this entire week, his mornings had been ruined by the stupid fucking protest in the park just outside his window.  And to think he’d actually paid more for an apartment with a view of the park— he hadn’t realized then that the “view” was gonna be a bunch of hippies creating awful music and an unbearable smell that left his whole apartment reeking of reefer if he dared to open his window.

Attempting to ignore it for a week only made him more resentful with each passing day.  Each time he figured the crowd would surely leave soon or at least be quiet for the night, they seemed to somehow get louder just to spite him.

He probably should've waited until he was a bit less agitated to go down and try to bargain with you, but he stormed down there instead and tapped you on the shoulder when his presence alone wasn't enough to distract you from your incessant chanting.

“Would you consider being quiet?" he asked firmly.  "I have to work in the morning and—”

“We won’t be quiet until women have equal treatment under the eyes of society and the law,” you interrupted to explain condescendingly, shocking him with your icy tone.  He could hardly believe your attitude, in fact he couldn’t remember any woman speaking to him that way in his life: so far, he wasn’t enjoying it.

“I just thought you could be a little more respectful,” Bucky shot back, even more stern.  “You’re not making anyone wanna support your movement by acting entitled and inconveniencing everyone.”

“I’m sorry the revolution is inconvenient for you,” you replied, but it didn’t sound much like an apology. 

He wanted to say more but you blew him off and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him confused and irritated and livid.  Up until now he had been quietly skeptical about all this talk of liberation but now he saw it for the poison it really was.  A girl like you— who could've been a real looker with some willingness to try and a better attitude— talking to a man like him with so much hate and over what, a polite request?

This could not be tolerated; he couldn't let you get away with acting like that.  And lucky for you, he was exactly the guy you needed to teach you your lesson.

The good thing about hippies high on shrooms is they aren’t the most observant.  When he returned to the demonstration area the next night, he was able to grab you roughly and pull you back from the crowd with almost no trouble at all, dragging you into an empty alley and clamping his hand down over your mouth as your eyes went wide and your throat vibrated with silent screams.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed against your ear, “whatcha fightin’ for?”

He liked the way it felt to have you squirming against his grasp, using all your strength and not even getting close to escaping.  

“How does it feel to know I can do anything I want to you?” he growled against your ear.  “C’mon, sweetheart, can’t you put up a better fight than that?  I thought you believed in equality… you should be able to get away if you’re as strong as I am.”

He felt your warm tears trailing down around his fingers which held your face tightly, the struggle of your limbs slowing and weakening slightly.  His cock was already getting hard as he imagined the moment you would finally give in.

“You remember me, don’t you?  You didn’t need to be so rude, darlin’.  You could’ve just been nice and none of this would be happening.”

Your elbow shot back into his ribs and he exhaled sharply but didn't let go, grabbing your wrists and holding your arms to your chest as he pinned you to the wall.

"Oh, that's not gonna work, babydoll.  I'm so much stronger and bigger than you, all you're gonna do is make me angrier.  Is that what you want, sweetheart?  To make me angry?" he asked mockingly, leaning in to lick the shell of your ear as you tried to turn away.  “Pretty girl like you would make a great wife, why would you want anything else?”

Ignoring your struggle, he reached into your shirt and purred as he groped your chest, your nipples hardening when he pinched them.  “Maybe I can get behind this bra-burning thing if it means having easier access to your tits all the time,” he grinned.  “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when I can see them through your shirt?  Shouldn’t be showing ‘em off if you don’t want any attention.”

As fun as it was to play with your tits, he had bigger plans, so he reached lower to start tugging down your jeans, your legs uselessly kicking as he exposed your ass and thighs.

His cock was already rock hard as he hastily opened his fly and pulled it out with one hand, leaning back to spit on it quickly.  He spread the fluid with a few strokes over his length, figuring it would be enough to get inside you even if he didn’t really care if he hurt you.  

Your eyes went wide and your head bucked wildly as he poked the head of it against your opening, your body fighting a little harder once again.  The irony of that, though, was that you were already plenty wet in spite of what he had expected; it was so much funnier to watch you struggle now that he knew you were not-so-secretly enjoying it.

“Don’t be so dramatic," he chuckled darkly, "I bet you can take a cock real easy since you believe in all this ‘free love’ bullshit.”

He groaned as he pushed into you, impressed by how tight you were— so tight that it made his cock throb right away, your walls pulsing and rippling around him as he filled you to the brim.

“Oh fuck, there you go…” he hissed, smiling as you sobbed harder and struggled a bit more before finally relaxing into his tight embrace.  "You're gonna take it all, baby, every fuckin' inch of me."

A hard sob choked out of you every time he slammed himself to the end of you; he could feel the hatred radiating from you, the way you would kill him in a moment if only you weren't so weak.  But he could feel your reluctant acceptance, too, and the way it was slowly turning into euphoria— you were finally starting to like how it felt to be helpless to him, it was obvious with the way your pussy gave him such a warm and willing welcome while your pretty tits got even harder.

You clearly wanted to hate him, but your body knew better.

"You think I'm a sexist pig, I'm sure," he chuckled, "but I'm really not— I love women!  And you know what I love most?  Huh?"

He felt you nervously shake your head behind his hand and he laughed.

"I love the way you get so dumb when you get a cock in you.  All those useless little thoughts leaving your head when you're finally getting fucked right."

Your cries got louder even though they were still muffled by his hand, your sweet little pussy giving him a squeeze of encouragement.

"It's okay to like it, babydoll, it's what you were meant for.  Made to be my brainless fucktoy… born to serve me," he growled.  “You really should learn to appreciate," he grunted between brutal thrusts, "that your only purpose is to keep my dinner hot and my cock warm.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and he felt your walls bear down on him tightly, wetness seeping down around him.

"Oh fuck, are you coming?  Shit," he moaned.  "Looks like you really needed to be put in your place, just needed to be used... god, you made a fuckin' mess, too, you soaked my cock…"

Your little hands tightened into fists, pushing against where his arm held them back, but he stayed steady as he pumped into you, letting himself get a bit lost in the feeling of you while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

It felt so damn good to have a cunt coming around him, but it was even better knowing that you were fighting it and still couldn’t stop it, completely helpless to how good he was making you feel.

You almost screamed under his hand when he reached down to quickly rub your clit, your back arching to try to run away from his touch; poor thing, you were so sensitive it probably hurt you, but he was having too much fun watching you realize you were going to come again.

"Yeah, gimme another one, slut," he grinned, your legs quivering as waves of slick coated him and started to even drip down your legs.  "Can't stop coming like the dirty whore you are, huh?  Bet nobody's made you come like this before— cause nobody's given it to you right.  Nobody's shown ya what it's supposed to be like when a man takes you and makes you his."

From the way you moaned softly, teary eyes fluttering shut, he knew you liked the sound of that.

"Yeah, wanna be mine, baby?  Wanna be my little slut?  Or do you want me to pump this pussy full and leave you here on the ground for any other man that comes by to use you if he needs?"

You groaned softly, a weak little noise, and he felt his cock flex; as much as he wanted this to last as long as possible, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“M’close, honey,” he breathed.  “I’m gonna come.”

He laughed breathlessly when you shut your eyes, like you were trying to go somewhere else in your mind, trying to pretend this wasn’t real.  But it was real, and he wasn’t going to let you forget that.  He was elated to make your nightmares come true.

"I sure wouldn't mind pulling out and covering that pretty face you've got,” he hissed.  “It'd be funny to see you go back to your little march and show them how owned you are.  But not today, babydoll, I think there's only one way you're gonna learn your lesson."

Another muffled gurgle from you, and this time it didn’t even sound like protest.  Maybe you were just too tired for that at this point, but it gave him hope that you could finally behave.

"I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth and you're gonna beg me to come inside you, is that clear?" he grunted, feeling you nod vigorously.  "You're not gonna scream are you?"

You shook your head, and he slowly pulled his hand from your mouth as you gasped for air.  "Please— come in me," you panted.

"Address me as 'sir'," he instructed.

"Please, sir, I— I want you to come," you whined.

He chuckled right against your ear, feeling you shiver in his grasp.  "Honey, I don't give a fuck what you want."

To think you ever resisted your natural desire for submission was absurd now, considering the way that statement made you openly moan, your walls fluttering around him.

“Gonna fill you so fuckin’ deep you’ll never get it outta you, sweetheart.”

One more orgasm washed over you, making him laugh darkly while he watched you bite your lip to attempt to stay quiet; but that was impossible once he fucked you harder just to spite you, having to hold you tight to make sure he got as deep in you as possible.  Your whole body shook as he slammed into you, and he laughed at how dumb and helpless you looked.

"Bet you're on those new birth control pills," he grimaced.  They really weren’t that new, but he still hadn’t gotten used to them.  "Makes me sick to think you're letting a perfectly good womb go to waste.  Betcha want me to breed you nice and deep, yeah?  Wanna get knocked up?  You don't even care that I'm a stranger, you wanna get your pussy filled by any random man's come so you can have any random man's baby, ain't that right?"

At first he had worried that you would scream or cry for help, but now his concern was more that your moans would be too loud and somebody would catch the two of you in this alley.  Even if it was obvious now that you wanted it, public indecency was still a crime.

Good thing he had a new way to shut you up: his hand tight around your throat, silencing your sobs to blessed silence.  It was so hot to have you entirely at his mercy like that, to feel your pulse beneath his fingers, that he couldn’t stop himself from speeding up his thrusts suddenly.

"Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he gasped, “fuck, y-you… little whore…”

He had a habit of running his mouth when he was right on the edge, and the way your pussy was milking him for all he was worth made him spit out whatever filth he could think of.  

“Stupid fuckin' bitch," he mumbled under his breath as he fucked you as fast and rough as he could, chasing his high with no regard for your pleasure or your pain.  "Dumb whore, fuck, you stupid— ah, shit— stupid fucking cunt!"

He cried out as he filled you, groaning loudly with every pump of his seed into your waiting body.  Only when he was sure every drop was inside you did he release his grip on your neck, a loud gasp coming first before a few coughs and chokes that only made his cock harder despite having just filled you.

You started to struggle again, and he couldn’t believe it— after everything, did you still not know your place?

There wasn’t much time to relax and enjoy the afterglow when you were already trying to get away, and so he had to hold you tight again while he smiled exhaustedly.

“N-no,” you stammered, and he covered your mouth again as he pulled your head back to rest on his shoulder.  Clearly he hadn’t done enough yet to fuck that word out of you.

“Where ya goin’, sweetheart?” he panted against your ear, still catching his breath, his chest covered in a thin layer of sweat where it was exposed by his shirt.  “You’ve still got another hole to fill.”

[illusionsofdreaming]

would it be okay to request headcanons with the main trio from TCF who aren't in a relationship with the (fem) reader yet but they like each other, the guys get hurt or something and the reader is so scared of losing them or was so anxious that she ended up kissing them? You can edit a few parts if you'd prefer! thank you, i know you have a lot of requests but you're the only one who writes x reader for them-

Notes: It took forever+forever but I finally gave up trying to perfect it- y'all just going to have to deal with these half baked potatos as I sob in the corner for my lack of functioning writing braincells.

+ 'nonny I know you asked for Fem reader but I'm just so used to writing gender neutral nowadays I actually forgot to write Fem reader in. Uh. I mean it's gender neutral so it should work regardless?? I'msorrypleaseforgivemeforthisblunder

Ft: Cale, Alberu, Choi Han

Cale Henituse

He’s covered in blood.

Again.

He glanced down at his shirt, once white, now completely soaked and rapidly losing warmth. The icky feeling of sticky cloth stuck on skin caused goosebumps to break out all over his arms. The lethargy that weighed on him was hard to ignore, but expected after using his ancient powers-

“Cale!”

He turned just as the full force of you barrelled into him and he staggered, unbalanced and would’ve fallen had you not pulled him back. He barely had time to protest at your rough greeting when you began frantically patting him down as if scouring him for weapons.

“There’s so much- where are you hurt?” you demanded harshly, your tone pitched higher than normal. “Raon call for Saint Jack and the others, medics- anyone that can help!”

“Y-yes! I-I will! Weak hu-human you better not die or I will destroy the kingdom!”

“Wai-“ his protests were ignored as the dragon flew off, leaving Cale dumbfounded with his jaw hanging down in disbelief. “Wait you don’t have to find the others, I’m fi-“

“Cale Henituse, if I hear you say ‘I’m fine’ I’m going to sock you to kingdom fucking come.“ you seethed. His lips snapped shut obediently, swallowing the aforementioned phrase down as a foreboding chill crept down his spine.

But I am..?

“How could you..” your voice shook even as you clung onto his soaked shirt so tightly your knuckles turned white. “You’re always doing stupid things like this…”

Cale frowned, feeling a bit indignant. Sure his plans weren’t the most thought out at times, but to call them stupid…

“If you waited for us to come, then you wouldn’t have to- why do you keep sacrificing yourself like this?”

That triggered an alarm in his head. What strange things were you talking about? The act of sacrifice were done by martyrs and selfless heroes and Cale Henituse was neither of those. He wanted to correct your misunderstanding but you were worked up and hysterical and it was with horror that he realised you were crying.

“________-“

“Don’t talk! Please, just conserve your energy- I won’t let you die, I promised the kids and the others- I won’t let you-”

The alarm bells in his head rang even louder and he fought to be heard over your rambling, “_________- no one’s dying, I’m fine-” it felt as if his heart had leapt to his throat as he stopped your fist before it could make contact. You really weren’t joking when you said you’d punch him. He tightened his hold on your wrist when you tried to twist out of his grip and swallowed nervously. “I’m not hurt _________,“ he emphasised, willing you to meet his eyes.

“Stop bullshitting me Cale- how much of a fucking idiot do you take me for? How can anyone be fine after losing this much blood-“

“It’s not mine.”

You stilled in his grasp.

“��W-what?”

He frowned. Was it really that hard to believe his words? “The blood’s not mine.” he repeated and made sure to meet your disbelieving gaze head on so that you could verify the truth in his words. “They were cut down before they could harm me. None of this blood is mine. I was not hurt.“ It was a partial lie. He did cough out some blood after instinctively activating the shield for protection but he felt that that was knowledge you’d be better off not knowing.

The coiled tension in you leaked out and Cale slowly released his grip on your hand and took a cautious step back - just in case. It was a good thing he managed to deescalate the situation before the others arrived. Just convincing one person was hassle enough and from experience alone, he knew the others weren’t as merciful when it came to learning about his injuries, regardless of severity or his protests otherwise. Cale shuddered. He really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Ron’s cold smile again. He glanced up and saw Raon’s flying figure and he waved lazily to the dragon hoping the young one would understand that the healers were no longer necessary, it had only been a false alarm.

“..ot.”

“Hm?” He looked down, hearing you mumble but didn’t quite catch what you’d said.

He was not prepared to be yanked forward and for your lips to mash against his. There was a brief sting where your teeth had caught on his lip and the uncomfortable sensation of having your teeth clack against each other, noses in the way. He froze, like a deer caught in headlights, thoughts reeling but before he could think of acting, to push or pull you in even closer-

You let him go just as abruptly and he staggered, breath stolen, mind in absolute disarray.

Then you slapped him. Which definitely cleared his thoughts. “You idiot!”

Stupefied, he watched as you stormed off, stuck in a daze as he cradled his face where his cheek and lips tingled for different reasons.

“…What..?”

Choi Han

Choi Han didn’t know what Cale saw in you back then, a complete stranger whom they saved by chance and nursed back to health with utmost care. You, who Cale insisted was the final key to their masterplan and then asked Choi Han to act as your escort.

There were many things Choi Han didn’t understand when it came to Cale-nim’s decisions. But that wasn’t so unusual and he’d never made it a habit to question Cale’s reasoning, having learned to be patient, knowing the pieces would eventually slot together in the grand picture. So although initially wary he was of your unclear history and affiliation, he stayed by your side and did his duty without question.

And perhaps after weeks of accompanying you, he’s beginning to see what Cale saw. Though powerless and weak, you were righteous and passionate, holding true to your belief even in the face of adversaries. You were the perfect replacement for the tyrannical ruler of the country, someone capable of salvaging the crumbling system of a neglected, abused society and lifting it to new heights and glory.

With the flames of revolution ignited, everything hinged on getting you safely to Cale on the final stage. While the revolutionaries fought and acted as distractions above ground, he escorted you through the abandoned waterways.

The undergrounds were dark and cramped, incredibly disadvantageous to a swordsman such as himself. When assassins leaped out in an ambush; Choi Han didn’t hesitate. Without time nor space to draw his sword, he pushed you behind him and raised his arm to block the strike.

As the momentum of the assassin’s blade stopped, it became simple matter to quickly disarm and finish them. Having checked and affirmed that there’s no forthcoming attacks, he urged you to hurry, now worried as they weren’t expected to be discovered so soon.

Something must’ve happened, we should hurry to Cale-nim’s side-

He was halted with a firm grip on his other hand and was pulled back as he was met with your stern, unwavering gaze and declaration that you will not move another step from this spot until his arm got treated first.

Which was a ridiculous request considering they were running on a tight schedule. He frowned and his fingers flexed against the hilt of his sword as you pulled him to the side.

When none of his objections were being heard, he tried reasoning with you. The wound may look horrible, but he’d assured you he’d angled his arm just so that the blade would’ve caught on his bone rather than tendons. It was a strategic move that not only blocked momentum but also kept damage to his non-dominant arm at the minimum. He would not have bled to death nor would he be crippled from it, something that barely needed the emergency care you insisted on.

“It’s not necessary, we need to get to the tower room first.”

“The room is not moving anywhere, I’d rather not risk having you develop an infection because you neglected to care for your wound.“

He flinched when alcohol was poured on the cut and Choi Han breathed out slowly, his frustration mounting as precious seconds passed. Something in his chest stirred uncomfortably. He’s not accustomed to having others care for his wounds, having spent so many years caring for them himself whilst hiding his weaknesses from monsters in the Forest of Darkness.

“I will attend to it after I’ve brought you to Master Cale’s side, we must-“

Your eyes flashed with anger as your grip tightened painfully around his arm. “So many things have been lost to reach this stage, I’d rather not lose more on the way there.”

“Cale-“

Perhaps you’ve had enough as well as the next thing he knew, your fingers dug into his arm and he found himself yanked forward and you pressing a hard, determined kiss that stole whatever he was going to say from his lips.

“Cale Henituse,” you said sternly when you parted and picked up a roll of bandages, “can afford to wait a bit longer.” you glared at him as if daring him to argue otherwise.

Not that it was necessary, considering he’d doubt he’d have the coherency to answer anything with the way all the blood in his body was rushing to his face.

Alberu Crossman

He didn’t feel anything upon the moment of impact. Only the shocking cold of metal being slid into his side and the vicious gaze of the perpetrator pressed up to his front.

The pain ripped through a moment later and he gritted his teeth, red spilling down his lips. It hurts.

Activity bursted around him, screams of fear echoed through the ballroom as guards rushed to his side. However one voice in particular caught his attention and he looked up to catch your horrified expression, lips parted in a desperate cry.

His forehead furrowed as a strange sense of guilt washed over him- he didn’t want you to see this- but he didn’t have time to explore the feeling as his hand latched firmly on the hand which still held the weapon in his side, preventing their escape.

His smile was red, “Caught you now, rat.”

═════☩══♛══☩═════

He tousled his hair dry with a towel as he read through the reports in his hand.

Alberu was exhausted, the fight to rid his side of his enemies’ spies had always been an ongoing and tedious project. His enemies were cunning and always played things safe however their impatience this time would cost them. Now that one of their own has fallen into his hands, they can start pulling in the net.

A knock sounded on his door and he didn’t bother looking up from his reports as he gave permission. “Come in.”

“Did you manage to find any new information from them?” he asked immediately as the door opened. Anything gleaned from the assassin would be beneficial to his cause. Not that he truly expected any confessions to be given this night. Any hired killer worth their salt would know not to betray the mastermind behind a hit. But there were more than one way to find credible information aside from words torn directly from the lips of a captive.

When no answer came, he looked up and immediately dropped the papers he was reading.

“___________…”

In the aftermath of the attack and the capture of the assassin he’d been immediately escorted to the healers for first aid. With the bare minimum done he’d left quickly to take control of the situation, calming the aristocrats and giving orders to assign all guests to be escorted to a room in the palace to rest from the unexpected development - the smarter ones would know this was just a way to keep all suspects in one place, stalling for time so that his trusted aides may work to narrow down the most likely suspects. He had been meaning to find you and explain once everything settled but this time you took matters into your own hands.

Your eyes glanced at the documents he dropped. “Am I disturbing your work?”

“No,” he replied instantly, fighting back the urge to shuffle the papers behind him. “No, you’re not.”

The room lapsed into silence once more as neither of you seemed keen to address the elephant in the room.

“About tonight…” he started slowly, “they had to believe I had my guards lowered.”

The truth was, though he believed you would not have been behind the attack, you had to be tested all the same. Should it be known you’ve been partial to this plan, it would’ve given the real culprits leverage to use.

You approached him and he wished you would say something. He noted the redness in your eyes and felt a stab of guilt lodge in his chest. “It had to be believable.”

You didn’t meet his eyes and your hand hovered over where his wound had been.

He lifted the edge of his shirt up to reveal the pink scar tissue underneath. It was ugly and badly healed due to the rush he had been in. “I wasn’t in any real danger.” he said softly, staying still and resisting the urge to shiver when your fingers traced the scar.

“You’re picking up bad habits from Cale.” You said so softly he would’ve missed it had he not been paying attention.

“The padded shirt under prevented the blade from going too deep.” he explained, hoping you’d understand that he hadn’t been reckless. Everything had been planned carefully. He slowly tucked his shirt back in as you withdrew your hand, already missing the warmth you brought to his skin just moments ago.

“__________…”

You leaned in and placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Don’t do that again.” you whispered against his cheek.

He could only watch in astonishment as you turned away and exited his room.

“..Okay..” he said hoarsely to the empty room.

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 24

Chapter 1     Chapter 23

Roy had waited patiently for his chance.  He'd been foiled many times already in his attempts to isolate his target.  But finally he had his chance.  Everyone else was distracted by a stray cat meowing.  And yeah, he could admit it was adorable.  But more importantly, it was distracting.  He looked around to confirm everyone was watching the cat before reaching out and punching Conner in the arm as hard as he could.  Well, not as hard as he could, that would have broken his hand, but hard.

Connor raised an eyebrow and sent him an incredulous look. He had felt that Roy touched him, but it didn’t hurt at all and Roy knew it wouldn’t hurt.  “Really?  What the Hell?”

“Because you’re an asshole, that’s why,” Roy groused.

Conner chuckled and shrugged.  “Well, sure, but any particular reason today?”

“She knows Superboy’s name, but none of mine,” Roy grumbled with a pout.

Conner laughed, the sound echoing along the street and up and down the alley they were standing next to.  The group looked up with a curious look but Conner just smiled at them until they returned their attention to the cat.  As soon as their attention was focused away again he leaned closer to Roy.  “Maybe that's because Superboy is more impressive than an Arrow.”

Roy glared at him.  “You're lucky your hearing will be helpful if there are any attacks.”

Conner scoffed.  They both knew full well that if they went at it right now, Conner would destroy him before Roy had even started.  Give Roy time to plan, he might even win against Conner, but now, with no tools and on the fly?  It’s not even close.  He glanced down at Roy squeezing and relaxing his hand.  “How’s your hand.”

Roy turned back to face the group.  “Hurts, fuck you very much.”

Conner chuckled again and returned his eyes to Roy, watching the sappy smile that spread across his face as he watched Marinette pick up the cat and scratch under its chin.  “Really like her, huh?”

Roy nodded, without removing his eyes from Marinette, his smile somehow becoming even sappier.  “Enough to be willing to deal with Dick and Jason in order to date her. And apparently Damian now.”

Conner whistled and bobbed his head in understanding. “Wow.  That’s a lot.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t expected.  He hated her yesterday and today…” he sighed and motioned toward Damian who was glaring at him while Marinette was focused on the cat.  “I’m happy for her, she really wanted this, but now I have to deal with this bullshit.  I’m still not sure if this is because he is making an effort with her or he just hates me that much.  Although if it is about me and not her and he’s just using her to get to me, I’ll kill him.”

Roy glared at Damian for a few seconds then shook his head and looked back at Conner, his lips curling into a smirk.  “But it shouldn’t be as bad for you and Adrien. You just have to worry about her,” he nodded toward Marinette, “and she seems to like you two together, so that’s another fuck you.  You don’t have to deal with glares from family.”

Conner sputtered.  “Shut up…”  After a few seconds of silence he looked back at Roy anxiously.  “You think she approves?  How close are they?”

Roy scoffed.  “Approves?  She’ll help plan the proposal, whichever way that happens.  And the relationship is close.  Very.  Closer than siblings, but very platonic,” he assured Conner.  “Just don’t try to split them up.  It won’t end well, for you or them.”

Conner opened his mouth to ask more questions but transitioned into a smile when Marinette wandered their way.  She wrapped her arms around Roy from the side.  “We ready to go?”

Roy scoffed.  “That’s up to you, Fire Flower.  You guys done playing with the fleabag?”

Conner shook his head.  “That’s a terrible way to talk about Damian.”

Marinette pouted ignoring Conner.  “No.  I’d like to take him home,” she pulled away from him to look longingly back toward where the cat still sat watching them.  She huffed and turned back to them.  “But I don’t have a home yet, so…”

Roy shook his head.  “Sorry, Fire Flower.”  He traced her jaw with his thumb and kissed her temple.  He looked up, fully expecting a glare but found none.  He furrowed his brow.  “Where’s Damian?”

Marinette shuffled her feet anxiously.  Adrien came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.  He rested his chin on her head.  “He, uh, he got a call… from his dad,” Jon answered for her.  She looked back up at them with a painted on smile.  

An angry look flashed across Roy’s face. Bruce still hadn’t called her or even sent a text after not showing up the night before.  Not that a text would have been okay either, but it would have been at least something, something more than the nothing he’d done instead. He knew he asked Bruce to leave her alone the night before, but he didn’t think he’d take that as forever. The pain he was putting her through was unacceptable.  He had to know that.

Roy quickly smoothed out his expression and nodded instead.  “We should probably start heading back toward the hotel.  We can grab something to eat and drink on the way.  What do you guys think?”

Marinette nodded with a slightly less strained smile. Adrien gave him a grateful smile and nodded as well, pulling Marinette back in the direction of the hotel. “That sounds brilliant.  Let’s go, Bugaboo.”

Conner leaned fell a bit behind them and leaned closer to Roy.  “What’s that about?”

“We’ll talk later,” Roy growled quietly, a dark look settling on his face again.  He had to imagine the rest of the family didn’t know.  They couldn’t, right?  They would have said something to Marinette, reached out, done something.  He narrowed his eyes at Damian standing a block ahead of them, trying to speak discretely into the phone.  The Demon Brat was actually making an effort… maybe, but he knew what happened last night.  He knew how Marinette had reacted.  Did he tell the rest of the family?  Or had he kept it to himself out of loyalty to his dad?

Damian looked up from his call to watch Marinette for a few seconds before turning away to speak into the phone again. After another few seconds, Damian put away his phone and waited for them to catch up with him.  His face was set in an even harsher expression than usual. Marinette gave Adrien a look that resulted in pursed lips and a furrowed brow from him.  Marinette patted him on the shoulder reassuringly before rushing forward to meet Damian ahead of everyone else.  She nodded forward and started walking slowly.

Damian glared at her for a few seconds.  He checked to see what the rest of the group was doing before falling into step next to her.  “We’re going to get dinner somewhere on the way back to the hotel,” she explained after a few minutes walking silently.  Damian nodded curtly, his eyes still focused on the path ahead of them.  Marinette played with her fingers nervously for a few moments.  “You okay,” she finally asked quietly.

Damian’s expression hardened.  “I am fine.”

Marinette nodded.  She continued facing forward, but watched him from the corner of her eye. “What’s your favorite baked good?”

Damian shook his head trying to make the seemingly completely random question make sense.  “What?”

“You haven’t met my parents…” she paused for a second, her step faltering.  She glanced over at Damian quickly and looked back forward again, “my… um…” she shook her head and continued with a strained smile.  “Right so, anyway.  You will. Whether you want to or not. They’re going to meet you.  They can’t control themselves.  They have to be a part of my life.  You’re a part of my life, so they’re going to find you. You can’t escape.  And I need to know what your favorite baked good is because Papa is going to make so much for you, especially if you ever look upset or sad near him,” she looked at him quickly, “so you’re screwed,” she teased.  Her lips quirked up in a smirk.  “They are both absolutely going to smother you in attention.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at her.  “You talk a lot.”

Marinette nodded.  “I do.  Have to make up for you not talking at all.”  She shrugged and continued walking.  If he could have seen her face, he would have seen the mischievous look in her eyes.

Damian scowled at her.  “I speak the appropriate amount for someone who does not want to be in a conversation.”

Marinette pursed her lips in an attempt to keep them from betraying her amusement.  “Huh,” she nodded in mock contemplation.  “You’re talking a lot more than I do when I’m in conversations I don’t want to be in.” Damian glared and looked away, his mouth clamped shut tightly.  Instead of intimidating her like he hoped, Marinette burst out laughing.  “The only possible deduction is that you do, in fact, want to be in this conversation.”  She nodded resolutely.  “My papa’s baked goods have that effect.”

The enormous grin on her face faded suddenly. She looked forward again, pulling Roy’s hoodie closer around her.  Damian noted her change in demeanor.  He watched her from the corner of his eye for a few moments before finally speaking up. “He asked about you.”

Marinette blinked and whipped her head to face him. “What?”

Damian huffed, keeping his eyes forward. “Father.  He called me to ask how you were doing.  That is why he called at all.  So… so he cares about you too.  Like your other father.”

Marinette stopped walking and stared at him until the rest of their group caught up with them.  Damian caught Jon’s eye and bobbed his head forward.  Jon nodded quickly and nudged Roy and Adrien forward.  When the rest of the group had passed them, Damian nudged her forward as well.  Marinette fell into step next to him, her eyes unfocused as she tried to think through what Damian had just said.  “Well… that’s something… I guess,” she mumbled.

“More than he usually gives,” Damian said quietly.

Marinette stopped to stare at him again, confusion and worry easing into her expression.  “You know how he speaks about you, right?” she asked worriedly.  Damian stopped to wait with her but refused to look at her. Marinette took a step closer to him and moved to look him in the eyes so he could see how serious she was. “Damian, he speaks about you with such pride.”

Damian scoffed.  “Not to me.”

Marinette looked away, the words echoing in her head as she struggled to process them.  She had thought it was just her.  It was just her that M. Wayne didn’t make time for, didn’t talk to.  The way he talked about his children… she thought he told them, that they knew they were loved.  But Damian didn’t.  He didn’t know he was loved.  That just… that’s the kind of father he was.

She straightened up, a steely resolve settling on her face. “That’s not on you.  You know that, right?  He should tell you.  That’s his job as your father; to make sure you know you’re loved, that you’re wanted, that you’re important.  Because you are.  If he isn’t doing that, it doesn’t indicate anything about you.  It indicates something about him, not you.  You deserve better.”

“He’s a good man,” Damian insisted angrily, because she didn’t know.  She didn’t know all he did.  She didn’t understand.  If she knew, she’d understand.

Marinette furrowed her brow in displeasure.  She’d heard that argument before.  That argument, correct or not, excused any number of sins.  “Being a good person doesn’t mean you’re a good parent.  You can be one without being the other.  It doesn’t matter how good of a man he is, if you don’t know how much he loves you, then he’s failed as a father.  You are a good kid, Damian.  Every single person I’ve talked to said you’re tough but good.  You deserve to know that.”

Damian looked at her skeptically for a few seconds, searching for the catch, for the manipulation, but the longer he looked, the more resolute her expression became.  Damian turned away from her, no longer comfortable matching her eyes and utterly unsure how to respond to that.  “Now that your name is out there, you should know how to protect yourself,” Damian said instead.

Marinette watched him for a few seconds trying to decide if she wanted to push the issue or allow him to move them past it.  She finally decided to allow him the same grace she would want and gave him an amused smile.  “You don’t think I know how to protect myself?”

Damian frowned and continued walking forward. “You did decently this morning, but there are things you could work on.  You can be used against us if you can’t protect yourself and let yourself get caught.  You should come to the manor Monday.  I can show you ways to improve.”

Marinette stared at him in shock until a wide, brilliant smile spread across her lips.  “Okay.  I accept your offer to help me.”  She sped up to fall into step next to him.  “But Monday won’t work.  I have a meeting with M. Fox and Max and his department that will likely take me a good portion of the day.  Would Tuesday work?  I’m just unpacking some stuff for Max while he’s at work, so I can take a break whenever.”

Damian considered her words and nodded.  “Yes.  Tuesday should work.  If you come around four, we should have the house to ourselves for at least two hours. Just Alfred working on dinner, but he won’t disturb us.”

Marinette let out a relieved breath.  “Tuesday,” she nodded, “at four.  I’ll be there with bells on.”

Damian gave her a flat look.  “Please don’t wear bells.”

Marinette stared at him incredulously, trying to discern if he really hadn’t heard that expression that even she had heard or if he was making a joke.  She puckered her lips.  Honestly, ignorance seemed like the more likely explanation than sense of humor. She opened her mouth to say something but snapped it shut immediately.  “Shut up,” she whispered in awe.

“I wasn’t saying anything,” Damian objected. His offense quickly faded when he noticed her attention was focused past him.  She walked as if in a trance toward a random three-story corner building with a for sale sign in its window, until she started running, laughing loudly. Her giggles bounced around the quiet streets.  The rest of the group stopped to watch her as well, looking between themselves to try to figure out why she was dancing around.

Marinette looked through the windows and turned back to them with a beaming smile.  “This is it. I can feel it.”  She turned to Adrien, bouncing in excitement.  “This is where we’re going to live.”  She turned back to the building to study it more. “You’re going to get your job at the University of Metropolis and we’re going to live here.”

“It’s a store?” Jon observed uncertainly.  He looked back and forth between the building, Marinette and the rest of the group, searching for clarification, but only Adrien seemed to have an idea what was going on.

“This is where my store will be,” Mari nodded in agreement, looking at the building in awe.

Adrien stood next to her and examined the building critically.  “Second floor for storage, you think?” Adrien mused.

Marinette nodded.  “And offices.  I can have consultations there.  Third floor for us.”

Damian scrunched his face in disapproval.  “It's awfully small.”

“So is my business,” Marinette countered quickly.

Roy tilted his head as he looked over the building, searching for red flags.  “Are you sure?  It doesn’t look in the best condition,” he said cautiously, eying a crack running up the side of the building.

“The worse the condition, the more likely we can afford it,” Adrien answered quietly.

Marinette glared at him for only a moment before looking back at the building with a grin.  “This is it.  This is our new start.  This is going to be our home.  We should take a look.”

“I’m sure father will be more than willing to help buy a place in better condition,” Damian offered.

Marinette’s expression soured.  “I don’t want his money.  Not for this.  Not for anything.  I’ve gone this long…” she sighed and rolled her neck to calm down.  “I’m doing this on my own.  On my own terms.  This is mine. Not his.”

Damian nodded and stood next to her.  “They will likely be more than willing to show you around tomorrow if you use your last name,” he offered.  “Then you won’t have to wait until next week to get a tour.”

“Dup…” Marinette cut off her question why her last name would have any effect when she realized what he meant.  She shook her head.  That was not what she wanted to think about, a past that didn’t want her. She wanted to think about a future she wanted.  She looked around them, searching for how much traffic was around the area this time of day.  Not a lot, which was good and bad for when they moved in.  It would be quiet, but it also indicated there wasn’t a lot nearby. They’d have to go far for takeout or to go out.

She looked back at the building, her curiosity surging through her blood, increasing in strength with each passing second until she couldn’t take it anymore.  She looked back at Adrien, a scheming look spread on her face.  “Why wait?”

Adrien looked at her in confusion for a few seconds before chuckling in understanding.  He looked back at the building, analyzing it.  Roy came up next to her, examining the building with an equally critical look.  “Second floor probably more complicated scenarios, but easier to get to than the third floor,” Adrien noted.

“Second floor is wired but it doesn’t look like it connects to anything.  It may just be for show.  Won’t know until we get closer,” Roy nodded.

Marinette looked at him with a bright smile.  She turned to Adrien, meeting his gaze with an equally dangerous look.  “I bet I get in before you do.”

“Teams?” he asked, squaring up against her.

“Of course,” she rolled her eyes and moved to stand next to Damian, pulling Roy along with her.  Damian groaned and rolled his eyes but didn’t move.

“Should I be concerned with how confident you both are in your ability to break in?” he asked, exasperation radiating from every part of him.

Marinette and Adrien looked at each other for a moment. “No,” they answered at the same time.  “Should we be concerned with how willing you all are to help us do this without question?”

Damian pressed his lips into a thin line.  “No.”

Marinette nodded.  “Well okay then.”

Roy pointed at Conner with a smirk.  “No p… cheating,” he corrected quickly.  He looked at him and Jon pointedly.

Conner rolled his eyes.  “We don’t need to cheat to win.”

Roy scoffed, but the wide grin on his face betrayed how excited he was.  Adrien got Marinette’s attention and raised an eyebrow in silent question.  Marinette nodded so slightly, anyone but Adrien wouldn’t have picked up on it.  They both knew that the windows on the second floor were probably locked and maybe even wired to an alarm.  They weren’t making it in without their kwamis helping them.

“Okay,” Marinette announced gleefully.  “Everyone ready?”  She looked between everyone and nodded when everyone, except Damian, got into a ready position.  “On three. One, two… Oh!” Adrien stumbled over his feet having expected her to say one.  He glared at her and got back into position.  She stuck her tongue out at him and pointed between Damian and Jon. “Do not emulate this behavior.  This is wrong and illegal and never happened, right?”

Jon blinked a few times at her before looking back at Conner for confirmation that their behavior was okay.  “Shouldn’t we not be doing it then?”

Damian huffed in annoyance.  “Just do it Jon.  And don’t cheat.”  Jon looked uncertain, but nodded, getting into position as well.  

“Three, two, one, go!” Marinette called out as quickly as possible.  She giggled as she ran to their side of the building.  

Roy picked her up easily.  She climbed onto his shoulders, but it wasn’t high enough. She looked around for something to help her get more height and squawked when Roy lifted her legs up even higher. “Balance yourself against the building,” he called up as he pushed her feet up above his head.  She was just able to grab the ledge running around the story and pull herself up.

She knelt in front of the window.  She looked back to make sure Roy and Damian couldn’t see her before opening her purse for Tikki.  Tikki rolled her eyes but flew out to unlock the window and disengage the alarm.  Marinette grinned in gratitude.  There were too many people around to say anything or call Tikki out.  They could do that later, but Marinette knew full well Tikki wanted to beat Plagg just as much as she wanted to beat Adrien.

She just got the window open when Damian pulled himself up next to her.  Marinette dove into the window to beat Adrien.  “Help Roy,” she called as she crashed to the ground seconds before Adrien. She turned to look at him, a wide smile on her lips.  “Yes!” she yelled jumping around the room.

Damian huffed and leaned against the wall.  “It was just a climbing contest,” he chastised.

“Against Adrien,” Marinette answered incredulously, as though that should be enough explanation for her response.  She looked behind him, suddenly realizing the lack of a baseball cap in the room.  “Damian,” she started slowly, “where is Roy?”

“Harper is more than capable of ascending the side of a building on his own,” he jeered.

“Damian!” Marinette admonished.  She ran to the window, sticking her head out to see how he was faring. A blush erupted on her face as she watched him parkour his way up to the window.  

He landed on the ledge in front of her with a grace and ease she had not been expecting.  He gave her a cheeky smile at the surprise on her face.  “See something you like, Fire Flower?”

Marinette nodded mutely for a few seconds before she found her voice again.  “You’re really amazing.”  She ignored the scoff from somewhere near them.

Roy’s grin widened.  “Yeah?  You think so?”

Marinette moved to let him through the window, but kept her eyes locked on his.  “You’re creative, smart,” she reached out without breaking eye contact with Roy, and shoved Damian’s face away when he scoffed again, louder this time, “talented, sexy,” she took a step closer to Roy, brushing up against his chest, “and that move there was incredibly hot.”

Roy leaned down until his face was only a few centimeters from her.  “Better than a super?”

Marinette nodded.  “Much more impressive.”  She pulled him down by his hoodie for a deep kiss.  Roy wound his arms around her waist to pull her closer.  

Marinette pulled away when Damian cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly.  “What do we get for winning” he huffed and looked away, crossing his arms over his chest.

Roy narrowed his eyes at Damian but Marinette gave him a bright smile.  “I get first pick of bedrooms.”

“And what do I get?” Damian persisted.

Adrien clapped him on the shoulder as he moved past him to look around the second floor.  “Bragging rights.”

Damian scoffed.  “I already had that.”

“Yeah, but you’ll actually have something to back it up this time,” Roy joked, evading Damian’s lunge for him.

“Damian didn’t beat me though,” Jon pointed out.  “And our team made it in before your team did.  If it was a team event then we won.”  He grinned at Damian.  “We get bragging rights.”

Adrien hummed in thought.  “So who wins?  First in or first with everyone in?”

“Oh, no.  You’re not getting out of this,” Marinette argued.  “I beat you.  I get first choice.”

Jon grinned at Damian’s increasingly deep frown.  “I think we need another challenge to decide.”

Conner laughed as he followed behind Adrien, using his vision to check for damage to the building.  “Our challenges get dangerous.  Arm wrestling ends up in fights to the death.”

Marinette scoffed.  “You say that like that’s a bad thing, like I wouldn’t welcome the reprieve from everything.  Sounds like a win win to me.”

Conner stared at her open mouthed for a second, looking to Adrien to see his reaction.  Adrien rolled his eyes and continued to look around.  “Ignore her.  She thinks she’s funny.”  He ignored Marinette piping in with, “And I am” and continued speaking over her.  “She’s too competitive to not fight.”

Conner turned back with a furrowed brow and shook his head.  “Oh I bet you and Tim get along just fucking swimmingly,” he muttered.  “Now I have to put up with two of you.”

Chapter 25

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[felswritingfire]

April Brain Rot #3

Prompts:

3. Agility

39. “If you don’t rest, you won’t get better/heal.”

7. Tired Hug

Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Summary: You were ready for the Jam but you weren't ready for the Slam (or in which you go to see you best friends and your boyfriend practice just to get ran over by a big ass Savanaclaw student).

TW: None

Word Count: 864

A note from Fel: You know how hard it was to not write something where Leona got knocked on his ass? I'm gonna straight up fight him one day. Anyway- enjoy!

It was something you never tired of, watching Leona practice his Magift; he was always so flexible and graceful in his movements. You were left in a daze as you witnessed him flip off his broom to dodge a tackle just to land on it again: standing tall as he drifted along the wind like an invisible wave. 

He catches your eyes with his and he sends you a self assured smirk, gliding past Grim and Ace as they both barrel towards him for the sparking disk above his head. You clap your hands, your eyes practically sparkling when he scores a point through the goal. You hear Ace, Deuce and Grim all groan (well, Grim screeches). 

Leona lazily floats back to his side of the field, yawning. Despite the tired tears in his eyes he still sent you a wave as he settled back, pointedly ignoring the growing tension between two of his underclassmen. 

“You should be cheering for us you know! You’re my henchman, you know!” You laugh at Grim’s demand, shaking your head.

“I am! I’m cheering for both sides!”

“Bullshit! We’re your best friends here, you should be spoiling us!” Ace yells, a cheeky smile on his face. 

“With how sweaty you guys are? No way!”

“I’m gonna give you the biggest hug when I get off this field!”

Leona rolls his eyes, his fingers tapping against leg. “Get your head back in the game, idiots.”

You giggle as Ace and Deuce yell at Leona but get ready nonetheless. 

They begin to zip across the field, both sides falling into a steady rhythm with their team. You cheer as Ace and Deuce make a smooth pass to each other, even making a long throw to Jack who howls in giddy excitement. You wince when the two underclassmen on Leona’s side slam into each other and start yelling, snapping and hissing at one another until Leona flies in between them and yells a quick warning. “If you don’t stop screwing around, I’ll have you damn heads, you hear me, Fresh Babies?”

They huff before joining back in the game, finding the rhythm once more.

You feel your blood pumping as your boys fly closer to the goal, Grim holding the disk and about to throw it when another scuffle and Ruggie’s sudden yell startles you: “you two quit screwing- (Y/N)! Move!”

You turn to see two large figures zooming towards you, yelling at each other as they bump each other before they start screaming when one collides into you, knocking the breath out of you and almost making you throw up your lunch. His arm wraps around your waist before you can go flipping over his head, trying to get himself to stop while letting out an incoherent stream of babbling words. “Are you ok? Talk to me! Oh no! Oh no! I just killed them-” 

He finally comes to a stop, almost dropping your limp body as he jumps off his broom. He fumbles with you like melting butter before laying you on the ground, frantically looking you over as he sniffs at you and yells a chorus of ‘sorries!’ over and over. 

You blearily see the faces of everyone surrounding you, still wheezing from trying to catch your breath. They’re voices all intermingle in one terrible headache as your eyes flutter between staying awake and falling asleep. 

The last thing you see before your eyes slips shut is Leona shoving the others out of the way and his wide eyes. 

***

You wake up, chest sore and your back aching. You go to sit up just to fall back with a groan. 

“If you don’t rest you won’t get better.” 

You glance at Leona, sitting by your bed with his arms crossed. He looks like his usual apathetic self, but you wince at the way his tail slaps against the floor of the infirmary. “I…” You swallow. “Are those guys ok?”

He blinks. Once. Twice. Before slapping a hand over his face and dragging it down with a sigh. “I don’t know if you remember, my little Herbivore, but they both outweigh you and tower over you. I don’t think you could do anything to them if you wanted to.”

“I mean yeah, but it still hurt me- so, maybe they got hurt too.”

“He didn’t feel it.”

“Huh?”

“That hit you’re talking about; it just affected you- he thought he honestly killed you.” Leona waves his hand, standing up and moving to crawl in the bed with you. 

“Ah, really?” You sighed as he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “I gotta apologize for worrying him.”

“You should be apologizing to me- making me skip out on all of my afternoon naps-” Leona yawns, nuzzling closer to you. “It’s been awful.”

“S- sorry,” you try to hold back your laughter as his hair tickles your skin. 

He grunts before muttering. “Now be a good herbivore and stay still.”

You listen as his breathing slows and soft snores are leaving his mouth. You smile resting your cheek against his head as you close your eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep.

<Next Chosen Character>

Thank you for reading!

[effei-s]

What shatter-me Warner would do.

The fastest character assassination I’ve ever seen.

Here’s the thing: Warner from original trilogy had character arch. More important: he was a character.

He was mean, villainous, cold, cruel murderer, with daddy who basically bought him regency (like come on, if it wasn’t for Anderson no one would even think about giving him that position; n for nepotism), but he also was deeply traumatized and abused his whole life and had little to none normal human interactions. I loved that fact that the only good thing he did (killing Fletcher because he was abusing his family) resolved into a complete catastrophe (Anderson killing children and wife) because Warner didn’t think it through. He tried to do the right thing and failed miserably, because he was more concerned with making a spectacle for Juliette. And after that he still had the audacity to paint himself as a hero who saved poor family from terrible tyrant in Ignite me.

I didn’t expect him to act and think like a human being. He didn’t need to act like a normal human. Warner gas lighting Juliette in the first third of ignite me is Warner’s thing to do. Him yelling and throwing tantrums and making scenes in Unravel me is Warner’s thing to do. Him forcing Juliette to do things she doesn’t want and traumatizing her in the process in Shatter me is Warner’s thing to do. Him wanting to torture Adam to death is Warner’s thing to want.

There’s a few reasons for this:

a) he doesn’t know how to communicate with people other than giving them orders or making threats;

b) he truly believes that he’s in the right here (he doesn’t see himself as a bad guy in Juliette story, more like a knight on a white horse);

c) he’s physically unable to be honest with himself and always has someone to blame for his own mistakes and failures;

d) he’s ‘results justify the means’ kind of guy.

Changes for good, with trauma that deep, when you basically don’t have a moral compass, don’t happen over night.

Was his ignite-me arch made sloppy? Yes. Everything was too info-dumpy and too convenient (Juliette forgetting that Warner was going to torture Adam to death; Juliette feeling that she’s the one who needs to apologize; Leila’s entire character used only for a sob story; Adam turned into a douchebag so Warner would look a more suitable love interest, etc). But it still was an arch. And the finale of ignite me was so open I really could imagine that, little by little, in the future, he will start to trust people more and really gonna help Juliette and co to make the world a better place. And his redemption arch wasn’t finished in the slightest, and I would even say that it was only the beginning of it, but it was implied that things will get better from there (the most important part of that being him genuinely wanting to make things right with Adam and James; he’s the one who makes the first step and initiate the bond).

So what went wrong in new three books? Ehm… everything, to be honest. Instead of developing a character that was already there, she decided to give him a new personality. Actually it can be said about every single one of characters, but Warner just happened to be the biggest victim of them all.

Let’s look at Restore me.

Okay, we have his pov, and I never thought I would say it but… Warner is kinda dumb. He’s supposed to be this military strategy genius, someone who knows how RE works from within and… it turns out that he just as clueless as Juliette. More than this, we never actually see him do ANYTHING except fucking Juliette. And for some reasons he never helps Juliette with her work??? There’s so much paperwork and instead of helping her to sort though it he’s… just not there???

Those stupid long monologues about how she’s capable to do anything mean nothing if he doesn’t actually help (as we can see at the end of restore me, when Juliette gets captured).

That fact that he doesn’t immediately check if Castle’s words are true? And instead of helping Juliette with Haider (telling everything he knows about him and his family, preparing her for the dinner) he fucks her??? This is a dumb bitch shit. And maybe you didn’t noticed but Shatter-me Warner wasn’t a dumb bitch.

After all, there’s a simple reason I never wanted the job of supreme commander myself—

I never wanted the responsibility.

It’s a tremendous amount of work with far less freedom than one might expect; worse, it’s a position that requires a great deal of people skills. The kind of people skills that include both killing and charming a person at a moment’s notice. Two things I detest.

Remember shatter-me Warner who wanted power because power meant that he could have control over his life? Remember shatter-me Warner who wanted to work with Juliette as a team to change the world? Yeah that’s him now.

No personal ambitions allowed when you’re a walking dildo, I guess.

Off the topic, but Mafi really enjoys making Juliette stupid as fuck:

“Oh, yes, of course,” she says, remembering. “I’ve gotten a bunch of letters about that. I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”

Let's continue.

Hurting Haider would be enough to start a world war.

Warner says and then Juliette threatens Haider, a foreign official on a diplomatic mission, and instead of being even a little bit worried and think about possible consequences, Warner thinks this:

But I can only smile at her. I want to scoop her up and carry her away. Take her somewhere quiet and lose myself in her.

Okay, I guess it’s official, there’s sperm inside of his head instead of brain cells. I can’t find any other explanation for this clownery.

Shatter-me Warner would… Shatter-me Warner won’t be in this situation in the first place.

Someone tries to kill Juliette and Warner does… nothing about it. He never goes to check the body of the assassin himself. He thinks that Nazeera hides something and he still allows her to go around and doesn’t even interrogate her when Juliette says that Nazeera was there at the moment of the attack. He doesn’t find it even a little bit suspicious? That guy who had tremendous trust issues in the original trilogy? Remember him? Yeah, that guy. Shatter-me Warner would lock Nazeera and Haider up and demanded answers. Shatter-me Warner would be angry as fuck, and would try to kill Kenji with his bare hands, because Kenji was stupid enough to leave Juliette alone. Shatter-me Warner wouldn’t stop until he had answers (and the head of a person who wanted to kill Juliette on a plate).

New Warner is too busy feeling sorry for himself to actually do anything about it. And after one chapter it’s completely forgotten, like that fact that someone tried to kill her is not important at all.

And then Castle enters the picture with his stupid and sloppy info-dumping (I guess Mafi never heard of ‘show don’t tell’ rule). And says this:

“She can’t lead this resistance,” he says, squinting at something in the distance. “She’s too young. Too inexperienced. Too angry. You know that, don’t you?”

and if that wasn’t enough he also says this:

“It should’ve been you,” Castle says. “I always secretly hoped—from the day you showed up at Omega Point—that it would’ve been you. That you would join us. And lead us.” He shakes his head. “You were born for this. You would’ve managed it all beautifully.”

AND HE’S STILL ALIVE AFTER?

This is a fucking treason right there. And Warner A-OKAY with this.

Shatter-me Warner would strangle him right there. Or better yet, he would go along with this until he has 100% evidences of Castle’s betrayal and then he would kill him. Or he would kill him simply because Castle was withholding important information and earlier in books he put Juliette in a great danger by sending her to Anderson without telling her the truth (unravel me).

But not this Warner. New Warner is far more concerned with fucking Juliette then helping her or looking for a way out of this situation (because now he has dick instead of a brain).

After my father’s revelation, my thirst for information became suddenly insatiable. I needed to know more—who these people were, where they’d come from, how much we’d known—

WHERE AND WHEN DID WARNER IN PREVIOUS BOOKS DISPLAY THIS?

When I say that Mafi simply forgot her own characters this is what I mean. Warner from original trilogy didn’t give a flying fuck about them. He thought that they were weak and stupid.

I will lose her.

And it will kill me.

He said this shit and after he nearly had a panic attack because he imagined her dating someone else? Oh, come on, how more pathetic can he get?

There are words for this kind of behavior: toxic codependency.

Oh wait wait! I know! This is not Warner! This is Edward Cullen disguised as Warner! The mystery is solved!

Oh, he fucks her again. Apparently it’s the only thing he’s good at. What a character! The layers! The complexity!

And then Lena came into the picture.

Until that moment I was more or less okay with Warner. Yes, I was very confused, but I was ready to give Mafi benefit of the doubt. He lost his father and was dealing with grieve. We all can act out of character in the face of a tragedy or drastic changes.

“Why do you keep pressing this? Who cares if I’ve been with other women? They meant nothing to me—”

And there I felt in my guts, I’m not gonna like what next to come.

Haider was exhibiting suicidal tendencies. Self-harming. And I got really scared. I called Warner because I knew Haider would listen to him.” She shakes her head. “Warner didn’t say a word. He just got on a plane. And he stayed with us for a couple of weeks. I don’t know what he said to Haider,” she says. “I don’t know what he did or how he got him through it, but”—she looks off into the distance, shrugs—“it’s hard to forget something like that.

Oh, so Warner's words about how he never had any real interactions with anyone before Juliette were bullshit. About how he doesn’t understand people were also bullshit. About how Juliette was the first person who was not afraid to speak with him freely were also bullshit. Because all of the sudden he can help someone heavily depressed. Someone with suicide tendencies? Someone who harms himself? And now he has an ex-girlfriend who’s ready to beat the fuck out of him and calls him mean words (she clearly doesn’t fear him)?

Now his entire character in the first trilogy doesn’t make any sense. And his excuses don’t make any sense.

Bravo, Mafi! Bravo! This was the fastest character assassination I’ve ever seen.

She says that Lena was in love with him—really in love with him—but that Warner broke her heart, that he never treated her with any real affection and she’s hated him for it.

Oh, so he’s not only stupid and absolutely useless, he’s a fuckboy. And if there’s one thing I HATE, it’s fuckboys.

There’s a big-big-big difference between someone who has one-night-stands and THIS SHIT:

“You’re upset, I understand. But it’s not my fault you feel this way. I don’t love you. I never have. And I never led you to believe I did.”

“She and I,” he says, “it was—we were nothing. It was a relationship of convenience and basic companionship. It meant nothing to me. Truly,” he says, “you have to know—if I never said anything about her it was only because I never thought about her long enough to even consider mentioning it.”

“It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t two years of anything serious. It wasn’t even two years of continuous communication.” He sighs. “She lives in Europe, love. We saw each other briefly and infrequently. It was purely physical. It wasn’t a real relationship—”

So he despised her but used her for sex? WOW. Cool. He can go and trip over a fucking knife or fall out of the window for all I care.

“Everything in my life was different before I met you,” he says. “I was lost and all alone. I never cared for anyone. I never wanted to get close to anyone. I’ve never—you were the first person to ever—”

And how exactly he was able to help Haider with his self-harm then??? If he didn’t CaRe for anyone before Juliette?

This was the moment when Warner from original trilogy died in agony.

Okay, let’s see real quick what we have in Defy Me:

He thinks about escape but never really does anything to escape;

(anderson is the one who opens his cell;

he stands in front of a guy who murdered his mother and doesn’t even think about her, yeah I can see how important she was for him;

/again, shatter-me Warner would probably demanded answers, but not walking dildo, walking dildo cares only about Juliette. his excuse in ignite me 'i did it all for my mom' doesn't make any sense now, because he actually doesn't give a flying fuck about her/

he gets captures one minute after he “kills” Anderson;

nazeera is the one who gets him out of there;

super soldier taught his whole life how to survive, everyone. useless as fuck)

He doesn’t know anything about jewelry.

(super ooc, i know what Mafi was trying to do here: she tried ‘sherlock holmes doesn’t know that earth revolves around the sun’ thing Arthur Conan Doyle did, but the problem is WARNER IS A FASHIONISTA, or he was).

He wants to get married because…???

He sees a woman who tried to kill Juliette and he’s a-okay with staying at her place, because she said that it was actually a message (???).

Castle is still alive.

Nazeera who knew all this time about Anderson and was working for him is also alive and well.

Oh and he doesn’t care about Anderson being alive and being a real threat to Juliette (fucking her is more important for him, as usual).

His complete disregard for Juliette’s safety only makes me hate him more with every new book.

Imagine me.

First and foremost: don’t call imagine-me Warner shatter-me Warner. Don’t insult shatter-me Warner like that. With shatter-me Warner Anderson would have to try very hard to get to Juliette. It would be ‘Warner made 100 back-up plans, but Anderson knew him too well and created 101 plan and that’s how he managed to win’ kind of situations.

But walking dildo is too busy feeling sorry for himself (as usual), he just sits by her bed FOR TWO FUCKING DAYS, doing absolutely NOTHING to make sure she’ll be safe.

Nooira says that Juliette should be killed and she’s still alive for some reason.

He’s entire persona is that he’s rude to people (but not bbc’s sherlock holmes kind of rude, when he’s unbearable dick but he’s actually smart and really gets shit done, so we can tolerate him). He’s just rude.

He doesn't care about Adam or James's wellbeing (remember Ignite me Warner who really wanted a family? Yeah that's him now).

But he has gruppies now, because he’s hot and everyone in the sanctuary wants to fuck him.

Oh and he proposed to Juliette. HE PROPOSED. THEY ENGAGED! DO YOU HEAR ME??? THEY GONNA BE MARRIED! HE PROPOSED TO HER! AND SHE SAID YES! THEY GONNA MERRY!

Because god fucking forbid we forget about it.

(mafi really thinks that her readers have the mental capacity of a golden fish, huh?)

I lost count how many times walking dildo implies that he's gonna kill himself if Juliette is not with him (disgusting).

Then our walking dildo cures Juliette by the power of petting (it’s not power of love, lads and gents; you want to see love go watch defenders on netflix; mafi already copypasted elektra’s arch from that show into imagine-me Juliette, you can do yourself a favor and see how this trope can be executed without borderline on sexual assault petting scene).

18-old girl marries a fucking sociopath believing he’s actually a good person.

(we all know how shit like this ends, people like that don't change; and this 'he's different with me cuz i'm very special and i'm gonna teach him the right way' it's really harmful message considering that the audience of those books are mostly teenage girls).

Trust me, there's nothing revolutionary in this trope, it's tale as old as time.

Here's the thing, good written character always defined by connection to other people: friend, lovers, enemies, family, foes, acquaintances, even some random strangers. It's the easiest way to establish what kind of person they are.

Walking dildo doesn't have any of that because all of his "character" revolves around Juliette. He's not a person anymore. By the end of Imagine me he doesn't have friends (his relationships with Kenji or Haider non-existent), no family connections (no talks with Adam or James), even enemies or foes or even people that don't like him (because everyone wants to fuck him, because being hot is his only character trait).

His only family and friend is Juliette. And you know what? It's fucking boring, overdone and lazy as fuck. And insulting to the character he once was.

No redemption arch, no character arch at all.

Happy end.

[whydoyouwantmyname]

Imagine being Sirus’s daughter

-You were born in the year 1978, your mother was a muggle who Sirius met at a punk rock concert, and they had dated for a few months before deciding they were better off parting way as soon as he revealed he was a wizard.

-When she gave birth to you, Sirius hadn’t even known she was pregnant, and she didn’t tell him until you were 6 months old, when she went to his flat and frantically knocked on the door.

“Olivia, it’s six o’clock in the fucking morning, why are you...” and then he noticed the baby carrier

“She is one of you Sirius, she made...” her voice loud with frustration as she hushed it, “she made all of her toy fly at me when I told her it was nap time, she once cried and all the lights blew. Sirius I can not have this thing live in my house.”

“Clearly not if you are calling her a thing.” He snapped before snatching the carrier out of her hand, “I suggest you sell all her baby things, I don’t want her having a single reminder of you in her life.”

-He slammed the door in her face, and quickly placed you on the sofa, and just stared at you, for an hour. Internationally he was freaking out, he was 18, Fresh out of Hogwarts, and had zero idea how to parent a child. So he did the only thing that made rational sense, and picked up the phone.

“Hey mom, I have to tell ya something....yes I know it is early, but I just couldn’t wait to tell you....No, no I am not in jail again, however you might wanna sit down for this one..... you’re a grandma.”

-The phone was silent, and next thing he knew his fireplace lit up green, and out stepped Euphemia Potter, who was still dressed in her night gown, her eyes wide as she looked at her son’s best friend, and then noticed the small child asleep in her carrier. “She’s beautiful.”

“Mom I have zero idea how to even...”

“Trust me Padfoot,” the name slipped so comfortably out of her mouth as he looked at her with panic, “None of us do. We just do it, and pray that we don’t accidentally hex them.”

-That morning Euphemia spent teaching Sirius all about how to care for a baby, but quickly learned his new delima, “Do you have anything for her?”

“No, her mother just dropped her off this morning, I didn’t even know...”

“Did she tell you her name at least?”

“No.”

“Well, how about [Y/N]? That’s what I would have named James if he was a girl.”

“[Y/N] Euphemia Black, I like it.” He smiled, looking over at a surprised Euphemia, “What? I always hear that it was a muggle tradition to give your daughter’s your mother’s middle name.”

-After that she took you and Sirius out to a muggle baby store, and the grocery store, and bought you everything you could ever need. The whole time you were with the two, you never cried, you just stared at them with your [Y/C/E]’s and played with the small rattle Euphemia bought you. Once you returned to the flat, she flicked her wand and you watched in wonder in her arms as all the furniture started to assemble itself, while your father put all the baby food and bottles away. Soon he was putting the clothes she had bought you on the hangers, while Euphemia rocked you to sleep, your eyelids heavy as she looked down at your smooth face. Her trance was broken though by Sirius’s soft voice, “How do I know I wouldn’t turn out like her?”

“Because you would never allow yourself to. I know your mother was a vile woman, who had no regard for her children, but you Sirius Black, are the greatest thing she ever created. Besides you are an amazing friend to James, and I can only imagine you will treat this little girl as well as you do my son.” She stated before slowly raising and removing the maroon and gold sweater from his fingers, and hung it up for him. “Now, I am sure Lily is already at the house frantically worrying about this wedding that’s in a few days, so I will give this precious angel to her daddy, and call you tomorrow?”

“Of course, give them all my love.” Sirius smiled as she gently placed you into his arms, before looking to him, “You will do amazing things [Y/N], I just know it.”

-For the next week Sirius didn’t allow anyone into his flat, he just wanted to spend that time admiring your features, and learning how to be the fun dad. However after 7 days there was a pounding on his door, and behind it stood a tall, lean man, with shaggy brown hair, and glasses. In his arms were neatly wrapped boxes, and a stag plushie sat on the top.

“Really, you couldn’t have bought her a dog one after her father?” Sirius joked as James smiled, his voice filled with joy as he replied, “Never.”

-The moment you saw James, you immediately smiled, and crawled over to his feet as quickly as you could, your hands grasping at his pants as he sat the boxes down on the kitchen counter. “So you must be [Y/N]?” All he got as a reply was a giggle, and soon you were up in his arms.

-That afternoon you spent attached to James, and while him and Sirius talked, he would slowly dance around the flat with you, or throw you in the air, which also caused you to release a loud giggle. Sirius’s stress would rise quickly when he did, but once you were safely back in his hand, James would look at his friend and smile, “Don’t worry Pads, I won’t hurt our little princess.”

-Soon there was more knocking at the door, and behind it was Remus, and Peter. The man of the house quickly enveloped his friends into a hug, and opened the door wider to reveal James holding you upside down, as giggles filled the air. Quickly he lifted back to the vertical position and spun you around quickly, until you leaned into his shoulder. When he stopped Remus looked to Sirius, “Clearly we know who her favorite uncle is going to be.”

“Bullshit Mooney, she is going to love you all the same.” Sirius reassured as James stroked your back, “[Y/N], ready to meet your other uncles?”

-You immediately leaned out of James arms and right into Remus’s chest, your hands going to his face as you patted it quickly. However soon your fingers were tracing the light scars on the man’s face, your touches were delicate as you lightly brushed his warm skin. Remus tensed slightly under your touch, almost scared that you would cry within seconds, however you quickly placed your head onto his shoulder, and cuddled into him, causing Sirius to smile, “Told ya.”

-Peter was terrified to touch you, he preferred to just watch you interact with the others, and when you tried to climb up onto his lap, he stiffened. You immediately started to tear up, causing James to quickly scoop you up.

-That afternoon you napped on Remus’s shoulder.

-James and Remus both volunteered to change you, Peter was too timid to even try.

-Later that evening there was one last knock, James jumped up immediately and reached out to Sirius for you, a smile on his face as he said to you, “Alright [Y/N], now you are going to meet one of the most important woman in my life, but don’t worry, it doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

-When Lily saw you, her hands went to her face, as she silently freaked out, “Merlin, she is beautiful Padfoot.”

“Not as beautiful as her Auntie Lily.” James replied as you leaned forward and allowed Lily to hold you. She quickly cuddled you into her chest and smiled.

-As soon as Lily arrived you refused to leave her, not even James, who you were previously attached to could take you away from her, if they tried your eyes immediately watered.

-James pouted a bit about that, but Lily just chuckled and stated, “Don’t worry Love, I am sure she still loves you.”

-That night you fell asleep in Lily’s arms, and soon she was softly walking towards your nursery to put you to sleep. She smiled though at the sight of the stag plushie, and made a mental note to pick up one to represent the other boys.

-When she returned to the parlor, she smiled at the sight of the four young men, who were currently gushing over the small infant who was sleeping.

-That night when it was just James, Lily, and Sirius, he asked them if they would be your godparents. They agreed.

-The next day Lily arrived to the flat and handed Sirius a wolf, a rat, and a black dog plushie for you, and then she sat on his couch with a cup of tea, as they discussed life, your small body seated upon Sirius’s lap as you chug to your black dog plush.

-Whenever Lily saw a cute child’s outfit she would pick it up for you.

-Remus was famous for buying you books

-Peter often bought you random trinkets

-James always bought you toys.

-On full moons, Lily would babysit you, which you enjoyed, especially once you were older. She normally would play disney movies, and read to you 100 stories. She was always ready to play dress up, or paint with you.

-On nights where the order would met Euphemia and Fleamont would watch you, at their own estate. You enjoyed going to the Potter’s, and would crawl or toddle to each different room on the bottom floor. You also had a habit of falling asleep in the parlor with the pair, Fleamont normally was reading to you out of one of his many book, while Euphemia held you, her fingers tracing through your hair.

-Once they were done either meeting or fighting, Sirius, James, and Lily would drag themselves into the manor, and head to the parlor, where they would smile almost immediately at the sight of the small girl asleep on the couch.

-Sometimes when you would cry, Sirius would transform into the dog form, to which you would stop crying immediately and cuddle into the raven color, soft, fur.

-Your first word was Dadda, quickly followed by “Pong” which you would yell often at James.

-You knew all of your uncles by their Nick names, and sometimes they would find themselves calling each other the names you had assigned. James was Pong, Remus was Ooney, and Peter was Ermtail. You called Lily, Elily

-You were the flower girl in James and Lily’s wedding, they had you sit in a wagon, which was bewitched to move down the aisle, and once it stopped at the end, Sirius went to scoop you up, and held you beside James and Remus.

-When James turned to Sirius to get Lily’s wedding band, you were the one holding it out to him, with a smile he plucked the small golden band from your little hand and whispered, “Thank you darling.”

-At the reception each of the marauders danced with you, even Peter, however he only danced half the song with you, before passing you off to Lily. Remus walked up beside the timid man and clapped his shoulder, “Don’t worry Wormtail, you won’t break her.”

-Albus and Minerva were obsessed with you, each one taking time to hold you and shower you in attention. Minerva looked at Sirius at one point and whispered, “I can already tell this girl is going to be a handful, just like her father.”

“I hope so Professor.” He joked as she carefully handed you back.

-Lily and James both danced with you together, and some of your favorite pictures were taken that night, as James and Lily spun you around, or swayed together with you on your uncle’s hip.

-Your father and you were the last ones on the dance floor, his breath smelled slightly of fire whiskey, and your eyes were heavy, but that didn’t stop your father from holding you close to his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, as he softly swayed you.

-That night when you arrived back to the flat, he carefully placed you down onto the changing table and quietly changed you out of the dress you had surprisingly worn the whole day, and into a pair of Jammies that Euphemia had gotten you. As he placed you into the crib, he couldn’t help but notice how much you had changed in such a short time. He spent the rest of the night sitting in your room, watching you sleep as he pondered the thoughts of his current life.

-For your first birthday, they had a small gathering at Jame’s and Lily’s flat, Lily had spent the whole day before decorating and cooking, while James attempted to help. However as your Uncle Remus would later tell you once you were older, all your Uncle James did was eat the cupcakes Lily had been making, which resulted in her sending James to Sirius’s flat, where he sat with the Marauders, joking and drinking while you were left in Lily’s care. (Who had picked you up when she dropped of James)

-When you arrived your attention was stolen by all the decorations, which were all natural colored, but had a bit of sparkle to them. Your father however was taken by the food spread that Lily had made, “Goodness Lily, are you feeding an army?”

“Have you seen the way you four eat Pads? You basically are an army.” She sassed as she extended her arms towards you, “Besides, I will spare no expense for this little bundle of joy.”

-When Remus arrived you were on the floor with your father and James. However at the sight of Remus, you pushed yourself up from the floor, and wandered towards your uncle, however after three steps your balance caused you to fall, and look up towards Remus with tears in your eyes at the fact that you had failed. Sirius staring at you in wonder as Remus scooped you up.

-Those were your first steps.

-Lily had made you your own little, jam filled, smash cake, it was completely covered in green frosting and on the top of it sat a tree, which she had purchased completely made of chocolate. In different tones blue frosting she had made a small pond, and within the smears of blue she wrote upon it Happy Birthday Darling in red frosting. Meanwhile all the adults got to eat the cupcakes, which she had filled with raspberry jam. Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked towards James, “Your future children are going to be so spoiled.”

-Later that night when it was just James, Sirius and Lily, they told him Lily was pregnant, and that they were going to tell his parents the next day. They also revealed that they wanted to name Sirius The Godfather. “We figured we would return the favor.” James joked as he looked down towards your small frame, the brand new teddy bear tucked your your face as you sucked your thumb in your sleep.

-That night you and Sirius had a sleepover with the Potters, and when you awoke that morning James and Lily were already gone. This left Sirius to gather all of your presents and hurry home with them, after feeding you some eggs, and apple juice.

-That night while you sat on your father’s lap, there was a knock upon the door. Cautiously Sirius put you down in your crib and advanced towards the door, wand drawn. When he looked into the peephole he saw the back of his best friend, upon opening the door, he saw the red rimming of his eyes, clear evidence of his sorrow. Without saying a word to Sirius he just walked past him, and straight into the nursery, where you giggled with excitement to see your Uncle. His lips forced themselves into a smile as he leaned in and picked you up, his feet dragging as he flopped into the rocking chair and held you. Normally you would have been squirming, wanting nothing more than to play with him, but you knew he just needed your stillness.

-It took Lily an hour to call Sirius’s, “Is he there?”

“Yes, he has just been sitting with [Y/N], not saying a word...”

“He hasn’t told you?” Lily cut him off

“Told me what? Did something happen to the...”

“No, no baby Potter is fine. But Sirius... I am so sorry. Euphemia and Fleamont caught Dragon Pox’s. When we went to the house they weren’t there, the neighbors had said they saw an ambulance, so we rushed to Saint Mungo’s. By the time we arrived....” her voice slightly broke but that was all Sirius needed, “Mum’s dead, isn’t she?”

“Sirius, I am so sorry. Dad’s not doing well either, they estimate he has maybe a week.”

-With that the phone dropped, and his feet took him to his friend, fresh tears covered both their faces as he gently wrapped James in a hug. None of you moved for what felt like forever.

“Can I stay here tonight?” James finally whispered, his voice hoarse, as Sirius muttered, “Of course, as long as you like.”

-Fleamont passed away two days later.

-When James and Lily introduced you to Harry, you were obsessed. You wanted nothing more than to always be near the small bundle.

-The Marauders loved having two babies to spoil now. However Peter was still extremely timid around you both.

- There was only once where you were jealous of Harry, but that was just because James was holding him, and not paying attention to you lightly tapping his leg. You just sat down at his feet, and silently started tearing up, which Lily immediately noticed. This caused her to quickly advance towards James and removed Harry from his arms, James had a look of confusion, until he heard your small sniffle. Quickly he scooped you up, and apologized.

-You loved trying to help Lily with Harry. However sometimes you were too helpful, but Lily never scolded you, just corrected the behavior.

-There was one night where she was left to watch you and Harry while the order handled some affairs. You hadnt spent a night there since they had moved to Godric Hollow. She awoke to hear muffled whimpers from her son’s room, and quickly rose to collect her house coat and check on him. Upon passing your room she hadn’t noticed that your door was open, so when she opened Harry’s she was surprised to see that you had climbed into Harry’s crib, and were softly singing a nursery rhyme Euphemia had taught you to him. His eyes growing heavy as you looked towards Lily, “He was sad, now he’s better.”

“I’m sorry Love, did his crying wake you?” She whispered as she carefully lifted you out of the crib with the sleeping boy, as you gently nodded your head, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh there is nothing to be sorry about, I just wish I had the camera out to record that precious moment. How about next time though, you come get me?”

“Deal.” You smiled as she placed you back into the bed, and tucked you in.

-The next morning she told the others what you had done, and joked with Sirius, “You know she’s going to make a fine older sister someday.”

“My darling Lily, that would require me setting down, and that is not happening any time soon.” He teased back as you lifted your arms with pride, a clear plate infront of you as you giggled, “Done!”

“Splendid, now thank Auntie Lily for the pancakes, and say goodbye to everyone.” Sirius smiled as you did as instructed, and gave everyone, except Peter, a syrupy kiss on the cheek.

- the day after Sirius did missions for the order he normally wanted nothing more then to spend the day with you, in the flat. Normally you would both do arts and crafts, or he would watch what muggles called VHS tapes. You guys also spent the day eating snack foods, your favorite being Orange Maids, your father’s was chocolate.

-When Harry turned 1, you were excitingly running around the house, Harry crawling after you as the three adults sat on the couch, whispering amongst themselves. You had no idea how the conversation they were having would change your life forever.

-You once asked why Uncle Ooney never came to the flat anymore, to which your dad just told you Moony was sick. You had no idea that they ever suspected him of being a spy.

-The first time you saw Peter in the house at Godric Hollow you felt like something was off, and avoided him more than normal.

-It was two months later, you hadn’t known yet that this would be the last day you saw Auntie Lily, and Uncle Prong. Your father was extremely cautious to make sure you weren’t followed, and carefully snuck into the house. When you were placed onto the ground you took off running through the house, wanting so badly to show off your costume. The whole house was decorated, candles were lit everywhere, and streamers dangled from the living room ceiling. When you entered the kitchen however the counter was lined with food, and Harry sat in a high chair at the table, a tired James sitting beside him, as Lily stood at the stove.

“Uncle Prong, look at my costume!” You instructed, as he looked away from the Cheerios that littered the tray, and smiled at your outfit.

“Wow, we’re identical.” He gasped as you raced over and gave him a hug, Sirius stood in the doorway as Lily looked at the two of you, turning her head slightly she whispered, “Was this her idea, or yours?”

“She told me she wanted to go as Uncle Prong, figured it won’t be too hard to pull off.”

-That night you all stayed in, Lily was playing a muggle show on the tele, while you all sat on the couch eating candy. As your eyes grew heavy, Sirius looked down toward you, and whispered to his friends, “We best be on our way.”

“Oh come now, you only just arrived 5 hours ago, why don’t you two spend the night and in the morning...”

“I would love too, but I unfortunately have to get this little one home, would hate to have her dressed like your ugly mug two days in a row.” Sirius joked as James pretended to be offended.

-You sleepily gave both James and Lily a hug, unfortunately Harry was already asleep in his room so you were unable to say goodbye to the small baby that had been dressed up as a Lion that year.

“I love you.” You softly whispered to them during both of their hugs, they tightened their grip in response and replied back.

James: I love you to the moon and back my dear.

Lily: I love you too my little Prong.

-As soon as you got home, you fell asleep in your costume, Sirius didn’t have the heart to wake you up to change so he just closed your door and let you be

-when you awoke, it was to your father’s screams, and the slamming of the door. When you crawled out of bed, you saw the man your father called Albus, standing in your living room. He lowered his head, and sank to the floor, his eyes watery with tears as his soft weeps overtook him. They only paused however when he felt your soft touch. It was then Dumbledore looked to you, and whispered, “Do you want to go see your Uncle Remus?”

-When Dumbledore arrived to the cottage in the woods Remus had, he softly knocked. Your small frame in his arms, as Remus opened the door. “Remus.” His voice was soft, “The worst has happened.”

-When Dumbledore left, Remus was sitting on the couch, his eyes glassy as he looked towards you, the child of a man he had been convinced to be a traitor. But he knew Sirius, he knew Sirius would never betray his friends, yet.... here you were, no one had any idea where your father was, or how Voldemort died. But he did know one thing, he needed to take care of you while Sirius was away.

-Two days later you saw your father again.... on the front of the Daily Prophet, you would learn later in life he had went away for murdering Peter Pettigrew, the man who really betrayed his friends. But no one would ever know.

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

[goodlucktai]

enough here to survive

@natsumeweek 2021 day 3; seasons/change

read on ao3

(previous part)

x

It will take almost a full year to convince his father. 

Shuuichi has to throw around words like “recruitment” and “investment” and “contingency” that taste like ash in his mouth, feeling like some kind of sleazy salesman. 

But that’s what it takes to get the man’s flat refusal to move into reluctant consideration instead. 

Explaining Takashi’s situation at home—describing his bruises and the way he flinches when someone raises their voice—isn’t enough to make his dad think it over, but his own family’s health and safety certainly is.

Shuuichi paints him a picture of a potentially powerful protector, should those vengeful spirits they’re all so afraid of come knocking someday; and, if that fails, a fall guy. A patsy. Someone to take the blame.

This is as much as Shuuichi can do for now. 

In the meantime, he picks Takashi up from school, as promised. 

Sometimes they end up in the park where Shuuichi will help him with his homework, and sometimes they end up at a combini where Shuuichi will cajole him into spoiling his dinner with expensive ice cream. Sometimes Takashi will have marks on his arms from human hands, but at least there are none left there from random yokai anymore. 

He comes out of his shell more and more every day, like a brave little hermit crab. It’s amazing the difference it makes just having someone around who sees the same world he sees. It makes a difference to Shuuichi, too. It peels him out of his bitter, angry armor, piece by piece.

Now and then, they encounter some of Shuuichi’s classmates around town. He doesn’t talk to much of anyone at school—and no one goes out of their way to talk to him, either—but apparently he’s much more approachable when there’s a little kid clinging to his hand. 

“Is this your brother, Natori?” Hinata, a girl from his homeroom, asks one day. They ran into her outside the convenience store and her eyes lit up when she saw them. Crouching in front of Takashi with bright eyes, she coos, “Oh, he looks just like you! You both have such fair hair.”

Takashi glances up as if to gauge Shuuichi’s reaction to this assessment, but at that moment, apparently, the lizard chooses to slink across the bridge of Shuuichi’s nose. Takashi dissolves into giggles, and Hinata clearly thinks he’s the cutest thing since Cinnamoroll. She refuses to let them leave until she’s bought Takashi some candy. 

After that she seeks Shuuichi out in class to ask about his brother—and then somehow that evolves into heated discussions about a TV drama they both follow religiously—and within a month Shuuichi ends up with her cellphone number and a standing invitation to watch new episodes with her and her boyfriend every Sunday. 

“My life has gotten a lot weirder with you in it, kid,” Shuuichi tells Takashi one day, only half-joking. 

He’s sitting in the grass with his arms spread out in front of him while Takashi conducts an experiment with the lizard tattoo, asking yes or no questions for it to respond to—right arm being ‘yes’ and left arm being ‘no.’ So far nothing much has come of it, the lizard curled up in the hollow of Shuuichi’s throat instead, but it seems to like the attention. It keeps wagging its head or tail when Takashi talks to it. At one point it appears to roll over. This is a magical development as far as the kid is concerned. 

“Good-weird?” Takashi asks hopefully. 

Rolling his eyes, Shuuichi says, “Obviously. You don’t have a bad bone in your body, Takashi.”

Takashi beams, as delighted by that as he is by the stupid tattoo. 

“You should give the lizard a name,” Takashi adds a beat later. 

“Absolutely not.”

Then one day in late September, Shuuichi stops by Takashi’s school only to find out he never showed up that morning. Takashi’s homeroom teacher recognizes him and seems to have made the same assumption everyone else has made. 

“Your parents called him in sick today,” she says, looking faintly worried. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

Shuuichi doesn’t even remember to say goodbye. He just spins around and starts running. Sasago appears beside him, and he says, “Find him!”

For a shiki that doesn’t truly belong to him, she obeys swiftly. Takashi just has that effect on people.

Sasago has never had any trouble finding Shuuichi no matter where he goes. It’s not something he’s ever thought to test, it’s just something he counts on. He doesn’t know how he knows that she’ll be able to locate one little human in a city of about one million humans, but he knows she will. 

And she does. 

She returns to Shuuichi not even five minutes later and guides him to a nearby hospital.

He’s almost fifteen years old and entirely frantic, and if everyone is going to take one look at them and decide they’re family, then Shuuichi is going to make that work for him. 

“My little brother is here,” he says, his words coming out in unsteady lurches as he gulps for air. He doesn’t even have to fake the plea in his tone. He really doesn’t have to act at all. “Natsume Takashi, where is he?” 

Later on, he’ll scoff about the thin veneer of patient confidentiality, but he’s hardly going to complain about it now, as he’s almost immediately ushered down the hall. He outpaces the nurse when he sees Takashi’s name on a temporary door placard, and lets himself into the room without waiting for permission or approval. 

Some adults are lingering in the corner, talking in low voices, and they barely glance at Shuuichi when he barges in. Whatever, Shuuichi doesn’t care about them either. His eyes fly straight to his shiki, where she hovers protectively over a tiny figure huddled in the chair next to the window. 

Takashi has two black eyes and his arm is in a short cast. He doesn’t even lift his head when Shuuichi stumbles over to him.

“Oh my god, kid,” Shuuichi whispers. “Hey, look at me. Takashi?”

It takes a minute, but Takashi finally glances up at him through his fringe. Shuuichi sinks to his knees in front of the chair. It almost feels like the moment they first met, except it’s a different manner of monster that hurt him this time. And it’s not just cuts and bruises.

There are shadows in his face that have never been there before, ones that look as though they’ll cling to him permanently if no one does something about them. He seems so vacant and forgotten. None of the adults are even looking at him. It’s like no one sees him. He might as well be another ghost. 

“There’s nowhere else to send him,” one of the strangers by the door is saying grimly. “We might have to look into an institution.”

“Actually,” Shuuichi blurts loudly, “he’s coming with me.”

It turns out they have a lot of opinions about that but he doesn’t care. He scoops Takashi up and sits down in the chair Takashi was sitting in and holds him in both arms. Just refuses to get up or let go. His heart is rattling in his chest the whole time, but this is important. 

And Sasago is right beside them, where she always is. She’s ready to attack in whatever direction Shuuichi points her in. He won’t let it come to that, but it’s reassuring to have the option. 

Eventually, when it’s clear he won’t be reasoned with, someone calls his father. 

His father takes one look at Shuuichi and sighs. Shuuichi lifts his chin. His father calls the family attorney. 

Afternoon passes into evening. All the adults are having a heated, complicated-sounding conversation behind a closed door. When it becomes clear no one will be home in time for dinner, a receptionist stops by with sandwiches and sports drinks for Shuuichi and Takashi. Her eyes look ancient with sadness when she takes in Takashi’s battered little face. 

Takashi’s guardians finally show up when the supervising doctor and the Natori attorney start making noises about getting the police involved. By now, Takashi is asleep, but Shuuichi is still wide-awake. He glares at them with all the hate he keeps saved up in his heart for monsters. They don’t even glance at the boys on their way past.

“He’s a clumsy kid,” Shuuichi overhears the woman saying frantically, through the door she and her husband left cracked open behind them. “He fell down the stairs.”

Bullshit, Shuuichi thinks, and is surprised to hear his father say it at the same time. 

“Apparently the child has made quite the impression on the staff here,” their attorney says amiably. You’d never guess how blood-thirsty he actually was from his tone. There’s a reason the Natori family keeps him on retainer. “We’ve got quite a few people willing to come forward if this situation goes to court. Maybe there’s a way we could settle this peacefully.”

By midnight, all the papers are in order. Bureaucracy moves quickly when you have enough money to throw at the right people. Takashi’s guardians sign him away like he’s a used car they don’t want anymore and arrange a time to drop off all of his possessions, and that’s it. 

Shuuichi is no longer an only child. 

It might not stand up if a long-lost relative comes along and presses for custody, but relatives like that seem to be in short supply in Takashi’s family. 

“He’ll be your responsibility,” his father says on the ride home, as if he’s not talking to a teenager who shouldn’t even be responsible for himself, let alone a five-year-old. 

Shuuichi nods anyway. Takashi is asleep against his side again, a heavy reminder. Shuuichi will do whatever he has to. He’ll be whatever he needs to be. 

He promised Takashi he would keep the monsters away, and that’s what he’s going to do.