#on bad days it can even be a child crying/screaming or certain names

[popcorndispenser]

Hershel is actually the only character I've ever projected my dpdr onto. Idk, it fits him really well imo. Des' PTSD gives him uncontrollable fits of anger, Layton's makes him dissociate.

For those uninitiated:

[metal-mouse]

Dad!Ominis is the best fucking thing ever.

Crying, screaming rolling on the floor

What about Seb?

You know what, I have a lot of opinions about this one.

Under the cut because mentions of pregnancy and childbirth <3

I want to start this off by saying that Sebastian Sallow would be an amazing father.

When MC reveals they are pregnant, he goes on a roller coaster of emotions.

At first Sebastian would be over the damn moon that he's going to be a father. Like, MC has never seen him this happy in the entire time knowing him. He's excited, he gets started on a nursery right away, he tells the neighbours before you even have a chance to tell any family.

However, as the weeks go by the doubt starts to settle in.

Perhaps Sebastian doesn't deserve to be a father. Not with his past. Not with the things he has learned and the things he has done.

How could hands that have taken life hold new life? It seemed wrong. Sebastian was certain his touch would taint someone so new, innocent, and pure.

MC notices that Sebastian withdraws a little bit. He goes from constantly touching her belly and talking to his child, to just straight up avoiding her and avoiding talking about the baby.

Sebastian starts working more, taking on more cases and staying longer at the office in some attempt to buy his redemption. He had become an Auror to try and make up for what he'd done, and to try and prevent others from doing the same thing he did - why not try a little harder.

MC sits him down one night when he gets back from work very late and finally coaxes him into confessing his fears. MC reminds him that she too has killed, and she asks him if that would make her a bad mother. Sebastian is appalled at the notion, insistent that MC will be an amazing mother.

MC reminds him that the past is the past - it's not possible to undo what had been done - all she and Sebastian can do is learn from their mistakes and become the best people they possibly can. Sebastian is crying. He loves MC so freaking much.

Anne is happy for Sebastian. Five years after Solomon's death, the twins had spent a long time talking and had formed a tentative relationship again. Despite a lingering rift, the two were quite close again.

Or, if Anne has passed away, Sebastian visits her grave and lets her know she's going to be an Aunt.

He visits Solomon's grave as well.

Sebastian is convinced it's a girl. MC thinks it's a boy. They're both right. It's twins.

He reads to MC's belly, and MC is amazed that the baby always seems more active whenever Sebastian does so.

Cries the first time he feels the baby kick. It embarrasses him so much, but he's just so so so happy.

He'd be so obnoxious during the pregnancy, insistent that he'll do everything and MC should just sit there and look pretty and make their child. It drives MC insane, and it takes some sharp hexes to get him to relax a little bit.

Pre-parental panics like he's a sim in the Sims 4 when MC goes into labour.

Obviously they have twins. I'll play into that cliche so hard. A boy and a girl. Sebastian has a mini crisis over this. They name the twins after Sebastian's parents and Eleazar and Miriam Fig.

As they grow, the girl looks exactly like MC just with Sebastian's eyes and freckles. The boy is literally just Sebastian. MC wants to know where the hell her genetics went - until he gets an attitude and she understands that the poor boy has her temperament.

Sebastian is literally the most fun dad. He helps the twins play pranks on their unsuspecting mother. He takes them to Quidditch games all the time. He teaches them to fly on those mini-brooms.

He continues reading to them, this is something he does well into their early adulthood. The twins find it very relaxing.

Still has his doubts. Still has his bad days. Still is uncertain every step of the way, but he tries as best as he can - and to be honest, he's a wonderfully supportive and patient father.

I'm sorry but he's the stereotypical introduces himself to any of his daughter's male friends with a threat and always asks their intentions with his daughter.

Splits discipline with MC evenly, neither of them are the good parent/bad parent. Also helps with EVERYTHING. Often takes over and tells MC to go sleep because raising twins is a lot of work.

They're such a happy little family.

[diabolik-momo]

MOMO'S BACKSTORY

TRIGGER WARNING: abuse, Religious Trauma, waterboarding, torture, homophobia, and colorism are present in Momo's origin story. Read at your own discretion.

Please don't ignore these warnings if you are uncomfortable with any of the topics listed. I am not responsible for how you may react should you choose to ignore the warnings and cause yourself mental harm.

Born as Eden Kiryuu, Momo came from a poor but religious family near Osaka. She was born as a twin, her brother named Adam Kiryuu. Her family were very strict in their religion, going to church almost every day, especially Momo, who was pulled aside after mass and taken to a separate place to be baptized over and over again. Momo didn't understand why she had to get baptized multiple times, or why she had to go while her brother didn't have to, until she overheard the conversation between her parents and a Nun. "That girl is not human. She cannot be saved by God nor loved as his child. I'm afraid nothing we can do can save that child."

Momo didn't understand why they would say that about her. She was just as obedient and kind as she was supposed to be. She did everything the same as all the other girls in church, she and her brother would read the bible together every night just like their parents instructed them to do. Why was it her being talked about like this and not her twin? Why was she so different? Weren't twins supposed to be the same? What about her was so wrong that she couldn't be saved by God?

Her parents never said anything about that conversation for years, everything seemed to go on just as it always had. Yet, her parents seemed uneasy around her, acting like they favoured Adam more. This made Momo insecure. Even more so when she realized that she thought the girl she talked to at church was pretty, and more than just that, that she liked her. Her parents always told them about how it was a sin, it was dirty to like the same gender. Adam, being Momo's best friend and literal other half, could tell something was up. He felt bad that he was being treated differently by their parents. He asked her one night to tell him what was wrong, and although hesitant, Momo confessed about what she had heard and what she had noticed. She also confessed that she had a crush on the girl from church and ended up crying. She was afraid Adam would end up hating her too, and she wouldn't even know why other than she was a sinner. Adam assured she was okay, that he still loved her, whether she liked girls or liked boys. He still loved her if she was pure or a sinner, and he still loved her if she were human or a demon. They were twins and best friends and nothing would change that. Her parents overheard this conversation and decided it was time to purge this demon from their household, to save Adam and cleanse him of his sinful sister's bond.

The next week at Church, Adam was told to go home, and Momo was told to come with her mother to the back of the church, out into an open field. She was given wine that suddenly made her really sleepy, and when she woke up, she was tied up on a cross, and there was a large group of hooded nuns and priests watching as the mother of the girl she liked waved a torch above her head, preaching in Latin about demons, witches, and succubi. The sins of witchcraft and the grasp of the devil. Momo realized what was going on, panicking and struggling to get loose, but she couldn't no matter how hard she tried. She tried to scream but nothing would come out, and the next moment she felt warm, too warm. She couldn't see anything but red and orange and she couldn't breathe. The last thing she could hear before she lost consciousness were the screams of the people who watched. She doesn't remember anything that happened before she woke up. She was in an orphanage, covered in bandages and surrounded by nuns. They tried many ways to try to kill her, and Momo had no idea why they would torture her. After a certain night when they had tried to waterboard her, she found the strength and strategy to escape. She ran as far as she could, stumbling here and there, but she didn't stop until she was far far from that place, ending up at a different orphanage where she met Kou. The rest became history.

[sharonisthebettercarter]

hayley atwell is *really* somethin' else

so... something just hit me that's actually pretty fucking disturbing, and it's one of those things that, y'know, you feel is there, know in the back of your mind somewhere as something that is just kinda true by default, but once you become fully aware and CONSCIOUS of it

it definitely can't go away

the woman, that i just referred in this title. many people are aware of what she did, if not, here's a detailed list:

(1) Lucky Number 13 on Tumblr

if you don't feel like following the link, basically it boils down to hayley manipulating and encouraging her fans to promote hatred, bullying, harassment, all in peggy's name to help no one but herself, and harm a good chunk of the fandom as well as emily vancamp

HOWEVER, that's a bit beside the point right now.

it's not hard to come across diehards. stans, fanbois, whatever you wanna call them... but there's a frequent pattern with the way hers *specifically* are

the speech patterns are simple, there are spelling errors, certain things about defenses for her that are RIFE with YOUTH, that tell you outright, 'the person who made this is NOT a mature adult'

and you could argue, sure it might be trolls, just people who don't care about spelling (obviously, i'm not too careful with punctuation and shit), or even just adults who never fucking matured (that is ALWAYS an option!)

but the reality is that a majority of her fans, back then to now... were young girls to preteens to teens, and some boys who had crushes

that much is understandable, and some people who are adults currently were just never made aware of what she was doing

but it also makes you realize that these young fans are the most prone, most easily influenced, and most likely to not recognize the difference between reality and fiction, and jump at the chance of telling someone to hurt themselves if hayley outright gives the go ahead, which she did *amazingly* through her actions

and actions definitely spoke much louder than any words or reason in this scenario

even the ways in which other fans are attacked, it's not by someone who truly understands what they are doing. and no one who is of sane and sound mind that isn't a *child* pulls that kinda crap

so what does this mean?

it means we had, have, a fully grown adult woman, now pushing 40, who sat there, encouraged bullying, hatred, harassment, and worse.

among children...

and it hit me... and it fucking HURTS, because i already thought this lady was a monster, but this just makes it all so much fucking worse

because KIDS aren't gonna realize the harm they can end up doing, they're just following what someone they idealized told them to do, or signaled was 'okay' or even 'right'. but this fully, adult grown woman, outright LIED to, manipulated, and USED CHILDREN to cause HARM

and it reminds me a whole lot of some of the shit stormfront said on 'the boys'

'anger sells'

'you don't need 50 million people to love you, you need 5 million people fucking pissed'

'you have fans, i have soldiers'

how exactly is this supposed to be processed, because i'll be honest, i'm having a bit of trouble

i want to cry, i want to throw up, i want to scream because this is DISGUSTING, and it was already bad before but i still had some hope that *maybe* she would one day get the fuck over herself, apologize to emily and fans, and things would get just a little itty bit better

because i'm a fucking fool who always *wants* to HOPE

i don't think this woman has a moral compass

if she was willing to use KIDS as a means to an end and cause REAL harm... she deserves to be called out on it, and i won't stoop to her level and promote bullying and harm, but more people do need to know about what she did and stop supporting her

we all deserved a better peggy carter, or at LEAST one that wasn't willing to manipulate CHILDREN to cause so much HARM, and never utter a fucking word on the damage they did, that SHE caused.

[leaderintitleonly]

musemelodies asked:

3, 4, 14

Which muse(s) do you currently have most muse for?

Doc and Blue are the ones who fight for dominance. And do I mean they fight to be the favorite child. Doc usually wins because I've played him the longest so he's the easiest to default to even when I'm tired. Next? Surprising it's Lottie. She's really easy. Poor Ursula is neglected right now but not because I want to. She's loud and desires to be heard. Sometimes it's more of managing time for everyone and balancing my pain. Everyone's pretty easy to get ahold of. My pain can make it difficult so I'll go to the easy muses which are, right now: Doc, Blue, and Lottie.

Name a muse you have written in the past. What was your favourite thing about this muse?

I had a Thumbelina themed OC. I was kind of upset about how very few disabled characters we have and I thought Thumbelina could lend well to that. She was bitter and angry because she realized the prince didn't actually love her for herself, he was trying to change her (adding wings she didn't have) and she was a far cry from Don Bluth's Thumbelina. I really liked her. But because those themes I wrote eventually became real for me and I mean I am really living what I wrote, it got personal... Maybe I'll redo her one day. But I don't know. I do miss her sometimes and my boyfriend loved her. He tells me that she made him a little more in tune to writing more diverse characters. I just saw something that personally bothered me and wanted a change.

What is your favourite fandom to write in? Why?

Currently it's the Disney/animated fandom. I can be as serious or as off the wall as I want. I can have the days where my brain has completely exploded and I can't handle something serious. I can quote Vines (waaah Vine!) or Tiktoks with Vine-energy or I can have fourth wall breaking posts with Doc getting Taco Bell. It's great. And then I can do some real meaty, emotional stuff while flipping off Disney and screaming "and to think you couldn't handle Dopey being disabled" because... yeah. Yeah that's something that makes me wanna rip someone's jaw off. But I have white chocolate and hazelnut so I am appeased. So many of us seem to write out of spite. We know. We know where we come from sucks and we're just here to rescue these characters and plots and ride around on a segway going "LALALALA CAN'T HEAR YOU!" which feels nice. Also, live action stuff is very, very toxic in my experience. I had people who would force me to go along with triggering things even if I said in my rules I'm not okay with abusive situations because they wanted it and because in their opinion, their character was more popular so I had to do what they said. It's really bad. Like... I'm not going back. I really am not going back. Everyone has their drama, right? But... I'm not going back for the sake of my mental health. Having your life experiences invalidated cause the other rper is so hung up on a pretty face and playing virtual house is creepy. So yeah. Animated rp. Disney rp. Hell even certain video games are okay if you... ignore the weird fandoms. You know who I'm talking about.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #081

Where did you get your favorite pet from? I don't like picking "favorites," like I've loved every pet I've had, but I can admit I don't think I've had a bond with another pet like Teddy, the dog I had most of my life, really. I don't believe in soulmates, but especially the day I lied with him as I knew he was dying... that level of love and connection is something I can't explain, neither is the fucking pain I felt knowing he was leaving and I may never, ever see him again, in any realm of existence. That dog was my baby, my best friend. I miss him peeking up at me at the bedside asking to come up because he couldn't jump anymore, I miss him being fast asleep and just snoring so loud like an old man, haha... I just miss that dog, a lot. He was my most precious treasure. ... Oh wow I totally forgot to ACTUALLY answer the question til I re-read it, haha. We got Teddy from a family friend's friend; their dog had a massive litter and I think Lolita knew my parents were thinking of finally getting a dog, so she brought it up. Have you ever called animal control on anyone? No. When I was still a child, a horrible incident happened where my sobbing and screaming mom was very serious in threatening our neighbors she'd do it if their dogs (two big rottweilers, who I am NOT saying are evil breeds because "evil breeds" don't exist) got loose into our yard again, though. They somehow got out of their fenced yard and went on a total murdering spree of our cats, including young kittens... We had a massive outdoor cat problem, which is a VERY serious issue on many levels that I could write an essay on, but regardless, it was obviously a fucking heartbreaking thing for my family, especially us KIDS, to witness. I can still distinctly remember holding a dead gray kitten and crying afterwards. Is there anything written on the shirt you are wearing? No. What was the last movie you watched by yourself? Ummmm... that's a damn good question. Hell, I think it was The Shining literally 3-4 years ago. Do you think the drinking age in the US should be lowered to 18? No; there's already too much drunk driving and yeah sure it's very easy to access alcohol, but still, I like to think most people are law-abiding individuals and that lowering would AT LEAST increase drunk driving by a small degree, maybe even more than "small." It's not just driving too, you gotta think about how bad alcohol just is, especially for a developing brain. I just don't see any potential good of lowering the legal age.

What is your birthstone? It's amethyst. Do you know anyone fluent in a really uncommon language? Not that I'm aware of. What was the last thing to embarrass you? This is probably stupid and just my extreme aversion to feeling judged and stuff, but actually the other day while Girt's family was here I shared with Mom that a good family friend/former long-time neighbor found out the gender of her baby and announced the name, and my mom is pretty much ALWAYS into talking about babies, but she acted and talked like she was confused as to why I was telling her/why she should care, which made me feel REALLY stupid and uncomfortable and therefore embarrassed. I thought she'd be interested. Do you get along with your parents usually? Usually, yes. Do you have high blood pressure? I actually have alarmingly low blood pressure, like so low I scare the nurses and doctors I see when they take my vitals; like, sometimes they don't even know how I'm not wildly swaying around or just unconscious. Many times it literally doesn't even register on the machines. I DO get dizzy very, very easily, but I mean, I'm fine, as fine as I know. We know a part of it is my nightmare prevention med, because it's actually for lowering blood pressure, but not taking it is entirely out of the question. I had problems with low blood pressure below then, though, for reasons I'm not sure of. Have you ever pumped gas? I feel like I MIGHT have once with help, but I'm not certain. What’s the last thing that you drank? I have peach-flavored sparkling water right now. Are you affectionate? Very. Ever been on a hay ride? Yep, haunted hay rides during Halloweentime are a big thing 'round here. Do you have any appointments this month? I have SO many doctor appointments these days... I literally see the dentist later today, I see my psychiatrist and temporary therapy once or twice a month, I'm going to a regular physical checkup soon, and I want to say this Friday is when I see the neurologist to do this weird nerve test that involves poking me lightly with needles powered by like very weak electrical pulses or something like that in my legs. It sounds bad, but apparently it's only mildly uncomfortable. It's to see if my leg weakness is actually a nerve problem, which we all (including the neurologist) highly doubt, but we're trying everything we can. Do you like bras that have removable straps? I don't really have an opinion here since strapless bras just don't really work for someone my size; you really need the proper support if you don't want to be stared at and judged. I don't give a shit if other people with large breasts like those kinds of bras, but I'm personally not comfortable with the idea for myself. I care too much what people think. Be honest, who is the easiest person in your life to talk to? Probably Girt, but honestly Mazzy is like, right on his ass. Both I've told serious things to/had deep conversations with where they could have been so much more difficult if they actually wanted to. Tez is also an honorable mention for sure, I've just had less really serious convos with him. Would you say you’re an understanding person? I genuinely think I'm very understanding. Are you a loud person? I know I'm capable of yelling WAY too fucking loud if I'm upset enough, Mom has told me and my throat would agree, but that is something I work very hard to avoid; I can't remember the last time I yelled really loudly. This embarrasses me quite badly for some reason, but Mom also points out A LOT that when I'm excited and/or have something I'm feeling passionate about to tell her, I talk way too loudly; she knows it makes me mega self-conscious though because I don't notice it, so she at least points it out very lightly to me now. Say something about the first person you kissed this year? This mf has the most TERRIFYING Pepe the frog version of a Pikachu plush for no other reason than he thought it was hilarious and it is the most upsetting thing I've ever seen, lmao. Did you talk to your father today? No. Have you ever gotten bitten or your hair pulled while fooling around? The former yeah, but the latter hasn't happened and I don't want it to, I can pretty much guarantee I would hate that shit. Have you ever kissed someone with braces? No. Who do you make fun of the most? Girt, but in a totally non-serious and actually adoring kind of way. He knows I find his hatred for/susceptibility towards horror games/scary stuff just adorable, and I'll tease him over it, but again, not in a mean way at all. There are other things I'll poke fun at him for, but I don't feel like thinking of them rn. Has anyone you dated ever sang to you? Yeah. Is there a high chance of you going out to the movies soon? I don't have any plans, no. I don't even know what's in theaters. Who is your favorite person to have a serious conversation with? Girt, so long as it's a good serious kind of convo. Do you like going to the dentist? I don't care, honestly. What do you think is the dumbest/tackiest piercing? I honestly really don't like cheek dimple dermal piercings. Who did you last eat at a sit-down restaurant with? I uh, actually am not sure. MAYBE when we went to a Mexican restaurant for someone's birthday? A bunch of people were there, basically my immediate family as well as Ashley's in-laws. Where was the last place you fell asleep other than your bed? My sister's couch. Is the last person you kissed a virgin? No. Who was the last person to comfort you as you cried? Girt. How many tattoos would you get? I am totally cool with being pretty much covered one day. I don't think I want any on my face, though. Are you in a “I wouldn’t mind if I lost 50 pounds” kind of mood? I would be fucking ecstatic if I lost 50 pounds, I don't have to "be in the mood" for it. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? I guess a little bit darker would be fine, but I'm actually fine with being pale, though I wish my skin was clearer so it'd be like, a porcelain look. What is the highlight of your year so far? Um... idk. Would you ever want to swim with the sharks? I don't think so, but it's not something I'd totally cross out as a possibility. Does your mom like the last person you kissed? Oh, she adores him. Always has. What’s the worst thing you’ve gone through in the past year? Being hospitalized for being suicidal. This hospital stay was the worst I've ever experienced, and I absolutely fucking REFUSE to ever go to the local psych hospital ever fucking again, they're shit. Describe how you feel right now in one word? Irritated. All my mom wants to do is fight today, and god fucking forbid I disagree with her. Who last put their arms around you? Girt. Person you used to have feelings for shows up at your house, you say: Well, I'm asking him how the hell he even knows where I live. We've moved twice since splitting from him. Ever been to the house of the opposite sex when no one was home? Yeah, that was very normal when Jason and I were together, especially on the days (which were most) where I'd ride home from school on the bus with him. We always got there before his parents got off work. Is there anyone that hates you right now? She clearly does, and the feeling is mutual. Is the last person you kissed mad at you? I don't see why he would be at all. Has your best friend ever seen you naked? Not completely, no. Do you get mad when your current bf/gf talks about an ex? That's not something he really does, unless it's relevant, which doesn't bother me. It only would if it was something he did a lot and clearly wasn't over them, which he definitely is. How old do you think you will be when you finally have kids? I never plan on having kids. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years? Uhhhh I'll go with probably, but I don't know that with certainty. [TW: ABUSE] Do you know anybody who was abused? I know multiple people who were, including family. Do you like to have long hair or short hair? SHORT, god chopping my hair off was one of the best choices I've ever made. What was the last thing you hid? I uh am not sure. Last time you cried? I teared up a tiny bit yesterday at the end of watching an LP of Resident Evil 8's DLC that just came out. That's the only RE installment that has ever made me cry; I still can't watch the main game's ending without crying some, ha ha. How many rings do you wear daily? One. Do you think a lot when you’re taking a shower? To be totally honest, I just focus on getting it done and being careful to not slip when I need to stand up or sit back down; I have to use a shower chair because of the extreme weakness in my legs. After I finally fell months ago, Mom got one. Showers STILL suck, even when mostly sitting, just because bending and twisting and trying to maintain my balance when doing so is still a challenge. Anyone’s birthday soon? Who? And how old are they turning? Uh, I actually don't think anyone I know has a birthday coming up 'til mine on February 5th. Then my youngest niece was born... two days after me, I think? Has anyone ever told you that you are a bad kisser? No. Do you like Frosties from Wendy’s? Yeah, but they're not my favorite because of just how stupid thick they are. I prefer milkshakes that I can actually drink through a straw, you need a spoon for those bad boys. Have you ever made a drunken mistake and paid big time for it? No. Who do you think you have cried over the most? JASON. Ever gone through an emo or goth phase? Yep; even though I can't afford/am too lazy for the wardrobe part, I'm for sure still goth in my heart, haha. Have you ever had feelings for someone who was seeing someone else? Yes. Where are your parents right now? Mom's in the shower, Dad is at work I'm sure. Have you ever had a crush on a sibling’s friend? No. Do you have a favorite flower? I really like orchids and then specifically pink tulips. What is the best gift someone can give you? Really, their time. We've got a very limited amount of that, so someone spending it on you is a very kind thing. Would you rather be stuck on a desert island with your ex or a python? Jesus, give me the snake ANY fuckin day, lmao. No living species of snake could eat a full-grown (nevermind fat) person, and I can guaranfuckintee that python would want nothing to do with me and thus avoid me. I'd only potentially be in any kind of trouble if I was pestering it. Pythons are literally big, docile puppies, I love them. Would you get a shamrock tattooed to your forehead for $5,000? No, honestly. The money's tempting, but... no, I have zero desire for a shamrock tattoo. What do you smell right now? It's strange actually, I've been smelling something like burnt popcorn for a while now. Idk if Mom made something, but I'm not a fan of the smell at all. Who was the last person to tell you you looked nice? Uh I'm not sure, but probably Girt or maybe my mom?

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Hair emergencies [E. M]

Eddie Munson x reader

Word count: 1.1k

"Eddie?" you asked, slamming the trailer door hard "Ed?" you repeated in a scream, without stopping your blows. He hadn't been to school that day and you thought he was just being lazy, but what really bothered you was that you spent a whole hour waiting for him in the theater room with the Hellfire club and he never showed up. That's why you drove so late to the Munson trailer.

“Y/N?” you heard from inside. His voice sounded weird, like something was covering his nose, and your first thought was that he was sick.

"It's me, can I come in?"

"Nope!" he practically screeched, making you frown.

"Are you sick?"

"No, just… go away, please"

"What is the matter with you?" you exclaimed in confusion, getting as close as possible to the door to try and hear something. "Why didn't you go to Hellfire today?" you murmured. There was no response from the other end and that was the straw that broke the camel's back of your concern "Eddie?" you repeated with fear, without being able to imagine what was so bad as to have left the most talkative boy you knew in the world speechless.

It was then that the door opened and your body fell slightly inwards, revealing a figure standing shyly. Eddie was wearing red pajama bottoms with black plaid, a shirt so worn you couldn't even read the band's name anymore, and his eyes were red and puffy. But what caught your attention the most were the strands of blonde hair that were cut unevenly.

“I look horrible” he cried, flopping down against you for a hug. You had to confess that you imagined something very different from that, so you were surprised.

"What the hell…? What happened Eddie?” you asked, looking over his shoulder at the tangle of curly hair. It was enough to inhale a little to realize that he smelled of peroxide and understand what had happened "Did you try to dye your hair?" you exhaled, hearing you unintentionally amused, while he continued to cry on your shoulder. You forced him to separate from you so you could look at him more closely and no matter how hard you tried you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't mock!" he sobbed loudly, as he hugged himself. He really looked shattered and you pulled him back into a hug, placing your cheek against his.

"Oh, Ed…" you murmured pityingly, running your hand up and down his back. "How did this happen, honey?"

“I thought it would be easy and the box said to leave it on for 30 minutes, but I wanted it to look lighter so I could paint it differently and I left it on for 1 hour, and then when I took it off the hair got all nasty and it started to fall and I wanted to cut it, but it looks horrible and Wayne isn't here to help me and I'm… my God I'm so ugly” he stammered, then burst into tears again. You really wanted to laugh at the situation, but you knew that Eddie would never forgive you so you did your best to stay calm while trying to calm him down.

“Yeah, yeah, my love. It's okay, we can fix it” you exclaimed, maintaining the soft tone with which you would speak to a small child who had just ruined something with a mischief. A smile crept onto your lips as you did this, but he couldn't see you.

You kept holding him for a while until he finished crying and when he did you lifted his face with both hands. He had a red nose and the same eyes, which made you feel a lot of compassion and in a certain way tenderness too.

"Do you really think you can fix it?" he asked as he rubbed the back of his hand to wipe away his tears.

"Yes, I can do it," you said gently, as you took his hand and led him to a bench in the kitchen. You went to his bathroom to get some scissors and there you found strands of hair along with the box of dye, as well as a pair of gloves full of product. You shook your head, totally amused, and went back to him, who was already a little calmer "I have to cut the damaged part, but I'll try to make it as long as possible, okay?" you said in his direction, receiving a nod.

"Okay"

It wasn’t such a difficult task to cut his hair, since regularly Wayne was the one who did it and always let it grow like a mane. Eddie felt your hands taking strands and cutting them, the sound of the scissors filling the silence of the room. After a long time you finally managed to get rid of the blond and burned strands of him, leaving him a cut above shoulder height, almost at the level of his ears.

"All set, handsome," you said cheerfully. He had already stopped crying, but he still looked quite sad "Don't worry, it's not that bad"

"Are you serious?" he asked, guiding one of his hands to his messy mop of hair. "Jeez, I'm so fucking stupid," he sighed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in obvious pain. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him, allowing yourself a small laugh.

“How did you think leaving the dye in twice as long was such a good idea?” you scoffed, hoping he wouldn't start crying again. But instead you heard him let out a bitter laugh against your chest "What color were you going to paint it?"

"Red" he replied, feeling extremely embarrassed.

"Next time ask me for help, airhead" you exclaimed amused, while you left a kiss on his crown. The atmosphere was more relaxed and Eddie felt calm now that you had come to fix it. Your very presence made him feel better.

“Do you still like me like this?”

"This dumb?" you joked, but from the bite he gave you on the side you figured he wasn't very amused “Of course I like you, Eddie. I like you, not your hair”

"Thanks for coming. I probably would have shaved my head out of desperation,” he confessed. He raised his head in your direction and stretched his lips towards you for a kiss, which you gave without complaint. The contact made the tension in his shoulders disappear and he practically melted in your arms, completely forgetting the stress that had accompanied him all afternoon. "Will you stay tonight?" he asked in a whisper, desperate that this kiss wasn't the only one he received that day.

And well, to those bright and pretty eyes you could never say no.

TAG LIST: @sweetdayme4427 @smol-book-nerd

[demigoddessqueens]

Hello!

So there’s this scene from Tamara Pierce’s- The Immortals series.

It’s from the fourth book when during a fight the MC gets thrown off a cliff and survived after getting very injured in the way down and almost drowning before the Love Interest finds her thinking she was going to be dead when he found her.

First of all sorry for how specific this sounds, and could you do a scenario with Vox Machina’s reactions to this situation and when they find the reader alive. Maybe hint at romance, Poly Machina is awesome.

That sounds so tropey and up my alley I freakin love it!! Plus now I might search for a certain book series to try 👀

Thank you for the request! 😉😊

You know that scene in The Dark Knight with the Joker and Rachel? Ok, it’s just like that! It’s a blurred unfair fight, opponent disarming the party and charging at you. You’re able to hold your own for a while before the enemy disarms you and now you both are at the ledge.

You can see your loved ones, eyes wide in fear 😨, trying to talk down before something bad happens. “Let them go!”

It’s nothing but mere child’s play, but you hear a cruel sneer of “very poor choice of words” before the enemy drops you before making an escape. You don’t know if it’s a sudden drop to certain demise or if your fall will break to delay the inevitable. But your scream sends a chill through their bones.

Keyleth and Scanlan both summon what last minute magic they can. The last thing you see before going over the edge are a vine and purple blob thinly shaped like hands that try to grab you. Even in their search for you after you fall through the fog, the look on your face still haunts them.

As soon as you fall, it’s a mad rush for the entire group to scale down the cliff and mountain it’s on to reach the bottom. There’s a roaring body of water that empties into a calm pool with a large sand bar, decorated with a forest. It takes the rest of the day, and well into the evening to find you.

Percy loses all composure, climbing and crawling over tree roots and mud searching for you. The lines between him running for his life before while searching for the part now that is you blur or is that the tears of frustration he feels. His voice grows hoarse shouting your name and when he trips for the upteenth time that day, he just crumples there with quiet sobs. Yet he doesn’t wallow for long when Vax lifts him up, trying to encourage him with a “Cmon Freddy, they wouldn’t want us to quit now.”

Grog is lifting whatever boulders and fallen trees are in his way like a mad man, while trying to keep Pike from getting swept away in the currents. If this is enough to sweep them away, they don’t want to assume the worst of what it MAY have done to you. The gnome can fit into the tightest places if need be, but she’s afraid to find you crushed or worse.

Vax’ildan can still remember the decimated village from when the Blue Dragon attacked. He tries to stay strong when he sees Percy’s demeanor, but even the half-elf wants to just sit and cry for a while. Each passing hour is a dull pain his cracked heart 💔 dwindling by the time the sun sets.

Vex’ahlia sees the group’s hope dwindle and she tries to be strong while talking them through, but even the archer feels all is lost. Going through the motions and tracking any sign of you just feels so robotic, as if she feels you gone in her heart. She sinks down to her knees in defeat as the last sun rays slink away for the day. Trinket’s roar signals to Vex and the rest of Vox Machina that you’ve been found. Beaten and bloodied, coughing up the last of the water, you’re still able to lift a feeble hand and wave to your loved ones.

Once they find the nearest village/healer to help you recuperate, it’s an emotional night. You know you need to heal, but just for tonight, you all sleep close to each other that night. Hands and arms that intertwine to comfort you and each other.

[ballorawan740]

SCP Scenarios: SCP 173 (The Sculpture) x Reader | NEW CHARACTER

SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Rules | My Original Post | Request | Socials

(Don't ask about that GIF)

I did change 173 slightly in a way that he can move his limbs and communicate verbally, so Peanut here would be a tiny bit OC

First Encounter

You both met in 173's cell

For some reason, when you blinked, 173 just stood in front of you

Like, this peanut didn't kill you or anything

It was more as if he was interested in you

He somehow found the ability to talk

Even patted your head to your surprise

This also supposed the whole of the facility since they've only observed 173 spanning everyone's neck and teleporting

And they've never seen him move his arms since he's a literal peanut statue that secretes poop (and blood I guess)

Your feelings for him

You began to realise you fell for him after someone had mentioned how often you visited the statue

Definitely would try to hide it, to begin with (Cuz it's odd that y'all be falling for a peanut statue)

But later on, you decide to drop hints about it to your crush, Peanut

He looked as if he was clueless

But he definitely has gotten the hint way before you even realised your feelings for him

Because you make him feel butterflies

If anyone tries to flirt with the statue, you would become furious (Cuz you paid for this statue)

Most likely would tease you at times

His Confession

Probably would plan it out

Which didn't work at all

So 173 would just do it out of the blue

To which you agreed of course (Cuz y'all need some Jesus! At least you weren't like Clef when he- nvm)

Definitely surprised the foundation as well since nobody has ever fallen for this statue before (Aside from Clef)

Some would give you both odd looks while others were more curious about your relationship

Probably would conduct tests between the both of you

Only because they want to see if 173's behaviour would change

Like if someone blinked while standing behind you

Date

Since the foundation doesn't let 173 out of his cell, most of your dates would be in there

173 would be similar to 035 since he's pretty chill and laidback

You both would be laying on the floor and looking up at the ceiling

Probably talking about a lot of BS

Probably would tell you his favourite method of killing (which totally isn't snapping necks)

You both would tell each other about your day and peanut would joke around a lot

Is rather sassy as well so if anyone judges, you can always count on 173 to save you

Most likely by snapping their necks

Or sassing them out to the point of no return

When he gets jealous

It's rare to see 173 jealous since he's quite laid back and doesn't really mind who you're with

If 173 does get jealous he would most likely snap their neck

Or just teleport behind you and just stare at whoever is hitting on you

Or he would bend down to their height (if they're short ofc) which does are them off quite a bit

Would definitely drag you back into his cell to which surprised the researchers

Because they found out that the cameras were working and they heard screaming coming near/from his cell

Peanut can be slightly possessive of you

Especially when he knows somebody is hitting on you on purpose regardless of whether they knew you were taken or not

Most likely would ask you who you are hanging out with and for how long

When there's a containment breach

There's a 50% chance that he caused the breach

Whether he did it or not he would look for you

As he's looking for you he would snap some necks

Even gave 682 a heart attack

More than once actually but we don't talk about that here (cuz that hurts 682's heart)

Could care less about every other SCPs/workers

If you were hurt peanut would hunt down whoever did it to you

Probably would stroll down the facility instead of teleporting

To which you giggled

The look on the researchers' faces when they saw 173 frolic across the hallway and back into his cell was priceless

You were even there to witness it and everyone looked at you like they've just seen a ghost

Yandere!173

Would lock you up in his cell

Probably would tie you up as well

Definitely would torment you by teleporting in front and away from you

Sometimes would blindfold you

Not even the researchers could get you out

They've even asked 131 for some help and it didn't work as effectively as they thought for whatever reason

If you somehow managed to escape your freedom wouldn't last long

173 would manipulate you to the point that you felt that there weren't any way out for you

So in the end, you just stayed in his cell (probably regretting life choices while you're at it)

At least he's nice enough to let you eat proper food served in the foundation (had to make that clear in case y'all didn't get the hint and thought he gave you smth else to eat)

His younger sister

You're both alike and very close indeed

The foundation was shocked at how alike you both were

And you both were inseparable

So every time there's a breach and they see either of you, they know the other is just around the corner

You both would be sassy, sarcastic and funny

The foundation would be entertained by your remarks

Although you may or may not snap necks like peanut, you do display some form of curiosity towards the foundation staff and the SCPs

Like that one time when there was a containment breach and you leaned in rather close to this rookie and he just screamed as he laid on the floor

He did get quite a lecture afterwards but you decided to just tease him whenever you both meet

When his kid says their name for the first time

Would be joyful af

Nobody would hear the end of it

Like imagine the last words you hear is 173 telling you how his kid spoke their name

Like it took them so long to just get the pronunciation right

Tries to get them to swear late on though

Much to your dismay

173 is a cool and laid back type of dad so you wouldn't have to worry too much when you're away

Unless it's about being a good influence then you should (Not that it matters anyway...)

Probably would teleport to whoever/whatever just tp tell them about it

Even bothered 682 to the point that the lizard begged the foundation researchers to remove either of them

When his S/O is angry

Would run/teleport 10000000000000000000 miles away

Especially if you're mad at him

Probably because he broke your favourite cup and didn't tell you about it because he know that your best friend gave it to you as a gift (Don't say y'all don't have friends)

Would try to calm you down after a while though

Which didn't work too well because you still wanted to rip his head off

If it was somebody else who made you mad he would probably be entertained

Unless it affects himself of course

Probably would try to hold you back and get you to calm down

In which you wanted to rip off his head as well which ended so well for peanut

If 173 cant run anywhere he would just hide in the corner and cry

Probably would as the researchers for some help as well

They don't because they don't want to die either

When someone tries to steal you away

When peanut finds out he would hunt down whoever tried to steal you without hesitation

Would snap his neck and everyone else who were involved or knows about it

Takes you back to his cell

Checks if you were hurt even though you were looking at the kidnapper's @ss

Would try to stay by your side at all times even though he knows he can't

Stares at the researchers every time they talk to you

If it was a D-class they would die in an instant

Has a burning hatred for certain kinds of people

When his Pregnant!S/O gets hurt by accident

Cries without a doubt

Would bandage you up without a doubt

Would cheer you up by doing weird dances and impressions

Most likely would tell you off as well but your puppy eyes get to him

So he would just take that back and just baby you

Would kneel down to talk to the unborn child about your bad behaviour

You swore you felt it kick

173 would get all excited and more protective than usual

Wouldn't let anyone near you unless you were going into labourr

Meeting a Fem!Dragon!Hybrid!Reader

Would be quite curious about you

Finds you rather cute because you're so pure, kind and small

Wants to adopt you without a doubt

The researchers would have mixed feelings about you being in the same cell as 173

Peanut was lowkey terrified when you breathed fire

Was somewhat ok with you crying lava and levitating objects for a bit

Somehow managed to get 343 and/or Scarlet King to help you improve your telekinesis

Definitely would play hide and seek with you and some others

They don't get a say otherwise peanut would snap their necks

When he accidentally kills you

It was when some guy unintentionally pushed you which angered 173

Like he teleported to him and his friends

You tried to explain but 173 didn't listen so he proceeds to snap everyone's necks

Trying your best to defend the poor guy, you stepped in front of them which lead to 173 snapping your neck as well

The guy was shocked but managed to run before anything happened

Word got around that 173 had snapped your neck and was now permanently depressed

Like, he stopped snapping everyone's neck for quite sometime

Felt so guilty that he went to 049 to see if he can fix you

But he wasn't able to so he went to SK and God

They were transported to another facility so they weren't able to do much for this statue

Yandere!173 x Evil!Reader

Not as dense as some of the other SCPs but 173 wouldn't have guessed that you worked for another GOI other than the foundation

Since you used your knowledge of 173 to your advantage, 173 would find out rather late

173 found out who you were working with since the late arrival of the Black Queen came by to collect you

173 would try and kidnap you back into his cell at the Foundation but failed miserably

Would try and warn the foundation but they couldn't get you back either

Since you were with the Black Queen, 173 was plotting to get you back without any distraction

The foundation realised how dangerous 173 has become and isolated him far from the other SCPs

At times, the foundation would use your name in order to get 173 to work with them which worked 50% of the times

Trying McDonald's Sprite

Would be confused about this 'Sprite' from McDonald's since he doesn't eat or drink anyways

173 would be rather curious about this beverage and does give it a try

Finds it tasty and you soon realise he has officially become a sweet tooth

Was probably a mistake but if you ever needed to bribe 173, get him some Sprite that's specifically from McDonald's

Like that one time you bought him Sprite from Tesco's, he said it tasted more disgusting and refused to finish the drink

You should probably give him some apple pies, pancakes and some other sweet stuff from McDonald's

Sometimes the foundation would even give him some Sprite whenever the cleaners are cleaning his cell

Would find it amusing that the only way to get him to stop snapping necks are Sprite

When his kids swear

Would 100% be ok with it

173 probably is the one who taught his child to swear

Probably would let them drink alcohol at a young age as well

Maybe around their teenage years, but would let them try a sip if they're under 10

Wouldn't even be mad if his kid swears accidentally

Peanut would most likely encourage it

Doesn't mind if his kid swears at others, but the others would probably complain

When Child!Reader scares him

Wouldn't be hard to scare 173 tbh because you're so small

You'd be running around and giggling while doing whatever

Until there's some silence

173 would probably brush it off at first until he didn't hear a sound for 20 minutes

Does check around his cell to make sure you're still there

Panics because he can't see you

Until he turns around and had a full-on heart attack because you jumped on him

The researchers definitely hear a screech coming from his cell

They all started laughing once they found out

When the reader pole dances/aerial silk dances

Very similar to 035

Would be in awe of you dancing for him

If you were pole dancing he would probably watch you with those eyes~

Most likely end up in you both performing in another activity

If you were aerial silk dancing, 173 would probably be amazed

Would try and dance with you but fails terribly

Because he keeps dropping like dead flies

Most likely broke his back

Sometimes the researchers wonder how it's even possible for 173 to break his "bones"

Having a Pregnant!S/O

Would crack a lot of dad jokes here and there

Follows wherever you go

Rubs your belly whenever he can

Definitely would make a full conversation with the unborn child

Sometimes would read stories that do make you feel sleepy

Does whatever you tell him to do

Cracks some necks if he can't give you what you need

Would cry whenever you have your mood swings

During labour, you grabbed his arm so hard that it almost broke him

When you try to commit suicide

Would teleport to your side at an instant

Wouldn't let you out of his sight ever again

173 would try to cheer you up which may or may not work

Definitely would kill whoever made you feel this way if any

Make you stay in his cell for a while

Maybe even permanently

Wouldnt let anyone touch you

If you had any scars 173 would cry

Peanut would try his best to stop you from feeling that way

Having a Hopelessly Romantic/Easily flustered GN!Reader

Would definitely tease you

173 would find it adorable that you fluster easily and is hopelessly romantic

I'd say he's pretty hopelessly romantic to a certain degree

Will kill if anyone teases you

Because your adorable flushed look is only reserved for him

Although he would tell all the other SCPs about you

049 and 035 get it the hardest but 035 is completely fine with it

049 would rather just stay in his cell than to hear 173 talk about you for 200 hours

Probably knows more about you than peanut himself

173 would boop your snoot whenever you have that cute look

When you're about to be executed - Yandere!173 x D-Class!Reader

173 would snap everyone's neck and kidnap you back to his cell

If anyone ever mentions your name, 173 would instantly snap their necks

And if they ever tried to find you, he would know and would hide you somewhere else

If you ever tried to flee, 173 would teleport to your side and bribe you to stay 'home'

By bribe, I mean he would force you to return by teleporting the both of you

If anyone sees the both of you, 173 would stalk them to no end

Would torture them if they were to tell the foundation about this

Not even the other SCPs could help

When you curl up in their lap

Would find you the cutest thing on Earth

Aside from 999 of course

If he's exhausted from doing nothing, he would probably just rub your head/back

Definitely would tickle you whenever he can

Finds it comforting when you do curl up in his lap

Thinks that you're so cute to the point that he would kill for you

When you kiss his neck

10000000000000% loves it

Would definitely be vocal because he has no shame

Most likely would ask you to do it again

Even if you were in the middle of talking to someone and they hear him

If you were in the mood, you could tease him with neck kisses for hours on end

Probably would ask you to move on to the next activity but you know he loves being teased

Then after that go back to cuddling

173 would scream but the last time that happened the whole foundation went deaf and you gave him the cold shoulder for a while

Definitely cried about that so he tries to restrain himself

But you feel bad so you just carried on

[highlifeboat]

A concept: Bela overhears her sisters talking to her mother about how clingy she is.

Cassandra and Daniela really don’t mean it personally, but their words sound so harsh in Bela’s sensitive ears. Her sisters are just discussing the things they’ve seen with Bela’s neediness, expressing that it’s concerning, and when Alcina reluctantly agrees that, yes, it can be a bit much at times, Bela shatters. Her sisters were one thing, but her mother...

Realizing she had to do something, Bela starts to pull herself away. She doesn’t eat or sleep; she only showers or bathes in frigid water, leaving her skin sore, ashy, and riddled with blisters; she barely leaves her room; and worst of all: she starts talking back to Alcina.

That last thing is what REALLY concerns everyone. And Bela hates doing it, but she feels the need to distance herself from her mother, and this is the only way. It’s better for everyone if she loosened her ties with them.

Eventually, Bela’s attitude gets so bad that Alcina finally snaps at her, and it hurts Bela more than she was expecting. She had been trying to prepare herself for the pain, but it still came to her like a knife in her stomach.

(Hurt no comfort)

She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. It wasn’t something she would normally do. After all, she’d never want her sisters to listen in on one of her private conversations, especially with their mother, and in truth she hadn’t planned to stick around. But when she heard her name mentioned it seemed to make her pause. They were talking about her. Why? What had she done? Was she in trouble? Bela’s mind raced with possibilities, and pressed her ear against the door so she could hear a little better.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Cassandra’s voice asked. “How… clingy she is?” Bela swallowed. Clingy? She wasn’t clingy. Well, maybe she could be. A little. “How she always wants to be around you? How much she seems to care what you think about her?”

“Yeah, and the lengths she goes just for a pat on the head.” Daniela’s voice agreed. “I’ve seen her go days without sleep trying to impress you with something. It’s not normal.” Not normal? Bela shifted. “And she’s been like this forever! It’s really weird.”

“And a little creepy.” Cassandra added. “Like, I know we were all attention seekers at first but even you have to think this is out of control, right? We aren’t crazy for thinking that.”

Bela heard her mother sigh, her teeth starting to grind together. “Bela can be… overbearing at times, yes….” The blonde sunk her claws into the door as her heart seemed to stop. “And it is a little odd.” Odd? “If I knew how to help her I would.” Help? Mama thinks you need help? That you’re odd? Overbearing? Not normal?

Bela felt tears in her eyes and rushed as quietly as she could away from the door and the conversation on the other side. Her sisters were one thing. Their complaints still tugged at her heart, of course, but they had been teasing her for years. But her mother? Her own mother thought she was overbearing? She didn’t understand, she thought she was doing everything right. Did Mother not like when she went the extra mile for her? Did she not like that she followed everything she said? Bela pulled her hair. No, she had to do something. She would gain her mother’s love back, and show her sisters she wasn’t “clingy”. She could change. Or, at the very least, try to.

That was probably where the downward spiral started.

She started off small. Putting no more into her work than necessary, and slowly lessening the time she spent around her mother and sisters. At first they had seemed a little impressed with her new found ability to say “no” to them, even if it was eating away at her internally. But her sisters were happy with her, and even their mother seemed content with her new attitude. That was all she wanted. But it was keeping her up at night.

When she sat alone in her room, the wind howling outside her window, it felt like torture. Her mind raced, some parts telling her how useless she was becoming, and others reminding her this was for the best. It was nothing but a constant whirlwind of conflicting ideals that rang in her ears no matter how hard she tried to make them stop. She’d even started losing her appetite, the stress of it all twisting her stomach into a terrible knot that refused to keep food anymore. She did eat in front of her family when they were gathered at the dinner table, if just to act like everything was fine, but she always purged it afterwards as if her body was rejecting it. Every part of her body was blistered, and ashen, and terribly raw from freezing showers, even the usually soft fabric of her dress was beginning to feel like sandpaper. Headaches came often, and felt like they lasted for days, and in private she would writhe and cry on her bed from the bouts of pain that were plaguing her being. It was becoming unbearable. But her sisters were happy, and her mother was happy. And that was all that mattered, wasn’t it?

Or, they had seemed happy up until Bela started back talking to her mother.

She didn’t know if it was the constant pain, the hunger, or the fact she always felt on edge, but her mother’s voice was starting to grate on her ears. It had gone from simply saying “No” to certain requests, to sarcastic comments she’d picked up from Cassandra, to down right snapping back at her mother for making comments to her. And it was killing her more than any of the pain she put on herself. The way her mother looked at her. The sadness that turned to concern. It twisted her heart with guilt. But this is what they wanted right? No more clinging to mommy? Bela wanted nothing more than to apologize and hug her mother, but she kept holding herself back. You don’t want to be overbearing. Mother wouldn’t like that. Walk away. Walk away. There didn’t seem to be any way for her to win this internal battle with herself.

And then they had a fight.

She couldn’t remember what had started it. If her mother had simply asked her something, or if she’d made another comment on her recent behaviour, or if she had just looked at her the wrong way. All she knew was that she’d stood from her seat and sparked the argument. She told her mother to stop trying to pry into her life. That she didn’t want her help. That she just wanted to be left alone. That they were all stressing her out. That she hated her sisters. That she hated her.

Bela said she hated her mother. To her face.

Her sisters froze, having come to see what the yelling was about, and the look on their mother’s face made Bela want to dissolve into the floor.

“I-I didn’t-” She jumped when her mother interrupted her.

“That is enough!” She snapped, and Bela’s entire body went rigid. “Young lady, I don’t know what has gotten into you these past weeks, but the way you have been acting is completely unacceptable! I have had enough of your attitude, and I will not be spoken to in such a manner by my own child!” She raised her hand to make a gesture, and Bela thought she was going to be struck. And you would deserve it, wouldn’t you? “I would expect this from Cassandra, maybe even Daniela, but not you!” She crossed her arms. “I’m very disappointed in you, Bela!”

The words cut into her so much worse than she thought they would. Bela had prepared herself for this, knowing her mother wouldn’t put up with her act forever, but to have it actually happen made it feel like her guts were getting ripped out. To be called a disappointment, it took the air from her lungs and strangled her with it. She couldn’t breathe properly, her heart was pounding in her ears. She hates you. Doesn’t want you here. She hates you! HATES YOU! HATE HATE HATE! Bela’s vision started to blur with tears, and, at a loss for what to do, she did the only thing she could think of.

She ran.

"BELA!"

Her mother called for her to come back, but she only ran faster. Through the castle halls, down the stairs, past a group of surprised and frightened maidens, and finally out of the castle’s main entrance and into the cool night air. It burned her skin, but she just kept going, out past the Duke’s cart and into the Vineyard, until her foot caught on loose rock and she fell face first into the hard ground. After that she couldn’t push herself up. Too sore, too tired, too hungry, too cold. So she did the only thing left she could do. She cried.

She cried, and screamed, and pulled at her hair. She curled in on herself, claws sunk into her scalp as if she were trying to rip out her brain. Her mother hated her. Her sisters probably hated her, too. She hated herself. Everything hurt. She just wanted it to stop.

She wanted her mother.

“MAMAA!” The wail tore from her throat before she had a chance to stop it. She certainly had the audacity, didn’t she? Mother wouldn’t rescue her. Not after that horrid display. “Mama….” It felt like her skull was splitting open. She didn’t deserve to see mother. To be held in her arms and cradled. Not after the way she’d acted. “I’m s-sorry….” It was far too late for apologies wasn’t it? Bela choked on her tears as her vision blurred and distorted. She felt terribly light headed. “M-M-Mommy, please… Please help me….”

[shadowed-dancer]

How the anime enhanced the Touya mystery

Season 5 of MHA just finished adapting the Endeavour Agency Arc. While everyone has their own opinion on how the anime adaptation is doing, I wanted to take a moment to praise something that (I think) they handled really well: The Touya Mystery. Today we’re going to walk through how the anime handled this plot point, and why it worked so well.

Proud to say this post is free of manga spoilers! Today we’re ONLY talking about the anime.

Intro: What is the Touya Mystery?

The Touya mystery is the ongoing mystery of what happened to the third Todoroki son. It is foreshadowed in seasons 2 and 4, but it exists in earnest throughout season 5. It is never explicitly stated, but is instead referenced in passing by the characters, allowing the audience to try and piece everything together until it is eventually confirmed.

Disclaimer

Obviously the manga has this mystery as well, but anime as a medium has certain factors that the manga simply doesn’t have. OPs and EDs are a good example, but there’s also the way hiatuses affect the way we consume the story, as well as how the breakdown of seasons clump certain storylines closer together then they were in the manga (compare 6 months to get through Joint Training in the manga, compared to 2.5 months for the anime).

I am also aware of the theories surrounding Touya’s potential connection to a previously established character. You’ve probably seen the theory at some point, but I won’t name names just incase some of you haven’t. Either way, this post isn’t about that theory.

Finally, I’m very well aware that most viewers may not have picked up on some of the stuff I’m saying. A lot of these points are minor details, and I don’t fault anyone for missing out on that. In fact, I’m sure there are some fans out there who never even realized there was a 4th Todoroki sibling because they just... didn’t care or pay attention. I’m going at this with the mindset of someone who is very, VERY analytical, not your average viewer who’s just here to enjoy the show.

The Set Up: Season 2

We are first introduced to the Todoroki siblings way back in Season 2, Episode 10 (Todoroki’s fight with Deku in the Sports Festival). During Shoto’s flashback, we are given this frame to introduce his siblings...

We have the white-haired brother, the red-haired brother, and the sister. In this scene, the red-haired brother fumbles his soccer move and ends up falling, causing his siblings to laugh. This added movement (which was never in the manga) causes the red-haired brother to stand out slightly more than his siblings.

Now, granted, I’ve seen quite a few people who didn’t realize these were Shoto’s siblings at first. They just thought he was watching his neighbours. That’s why, if their hair colours weren’t enough to clue you in on their relationship to Shoto, we meet the sister a few episodes later (Season 2, Episode 12).

She refers to Endeavour as “dad” which informs the audience that she is also Endeavour’s child, and is therefore Shoto’s sister. It then stands to reason that the two boys she was playing with (both of whom share their hair colour with her and Shoto) would be her brothers.

The Set Up: Shout Baby

Season 4, Episode 15 gives us a new ending sequence, Shout Baby, in which we see this...

Todoroki Family photos. On the left is a photo of Shoto on his first day of school (I double checked and the sign behind him indicates some sort of entrance ceremony). On the right, we are given a photo of the sister and white-haired brother as adults.

(Despite it not being explicit, you can tell that’s the white haired brother based on context clues. He looks so similar to the kid in the flashback that it doesn’t make sense for him to be anyone else. This is of course confirmed later in the season).

However, the red-haired brother is missing, which now launches the mystery of why. Why is he not in any of the photos? And then, as the frame pans down, we get this...

A torn, burnt corner of a photograph. For a while, I had some trouble making out what that blue stuff was in the corner, but a comment on Youtube helped point out that it is the exact same Sakura tree as the one in Shoto’s photo. You can even see the branch in the same spot.

So what does this tell us? Well, it’s the same place Shoto went to school, but the photo is burnt. Is it just a burned up copy of the same photo to symbolize how Endeavour ruined Shoto’s childhood? Or is it a photo of one of the other kids attending the same school, burned for mysterious reasons?

The actual answer is that it’s an Easter egg for manga readers who already know about the red haired brother but shhhhh we’re only talking about the anime right now.

The point is, we now have intrigue.

The Set Up: Season 4

Season 4, Episode 25 gives us our first full look at the Todoroki Family, with the siblings (sans Shoto) on a visit to their mom.

We get confirmation that the man in the photo from the ED is the white haired brother, and we learn their names as well, with the sister being named Fuyumi and the white-haired brother being named Natsuo! But, just like the ending sequence, the red-haired brother is missing.

His absence is never brought up, but this is only highlighted by the fact that Fuyumi teases Natsuo for not calling often ever since going away for college. His response ISN’T “aw come on, why do you only pick on me?” or “hey, at least I’m here! Unlike [red-haired brother]”. Instead he says, “aww come on, sis, I call you guys!”

No one calls attention to the fact that one of the siblings is missing. The red-haired brother is never even mentioned, which tell us as the audience that the characters know something we don't. Whatever reason they aren’t mentioning the 3rd brother is common knowledge amongst them, so there’s no need to bring him up.

But the anime ensures we remember that, yes, there IS in fact another brother. They replay the soccer flashback as Natsuo and Fuyumi watch Endeavour’s fight from their laptop, but we are also given this...

... Our second look at the red haired brother (played when Endeavour reminisces about his family). From this, we notice that the brother is significantly shorter than his siblings. It’s also worth noting that his bangs are in front of his face, meaning we never get a clear idea of his appearance (I’ll bring this up again later).

This episode also serves as the season finale, meaning fans were treated to an entire year of hiatus to theorize on the red-haired brother.

The Mystery Starts: His Name

Season 5, Episode 2 begins the mystery-of-the-missing-brother in earnest by providing us with this quote...

“Mom’s screams, Shoto’s crying, and what happened to our big brother, Touya”

Not only is this quote the first time the red-haired brother is being directly spoken about, but it also provides us with 3 pieces of information.

FIRST: His name is Touya. We now have something to call him besides “the red-haired brother”.

SECOND: He’s Natsuo’s big brother. At this point in the series, the age order for Natsuo and Fuyumi had not been confirmed in the anime, but we now knew Natsuo is either the second oldest child, or third oldest.

Touya being Natsuo’s “big brother” means Touya is either the oldest child, or the second oldest. But the fact that Natsuo says “our big brother” does seem to indicate Touya is the big brother to all of them.

This seems to be contradictory to the fact that Touya is just so small compared to his siblings in the 2nd flashback, but it’s certainly not impossible for younger siblings to outgrow the oldest.

(Yes I know technically their age order is revealed in episode 17 but I’m trying to walk through the experience live)

THIRD: We learn something happened to Touya. We don’t know what, but it’s implied to be bad. At the very least, it implies that whatever happened led to Touya no longer seeing his family.

The Mystery Continues: Quirk Singularity

In Season 5, Episode 3, the anime adds a fun visual while Deku explains the Quirk Singularity Doomsday Theory (the theory that, as quirks combine through generations, kids will end up with stronger and stronger quirks with bodies that cannot control them).

In the manga, this is just Deku talking to All Might, but the anime adds the same flashbacks Endeavour had during his Nomu fight for some visual intrigue. Not only does this flashback remind us that the Todoroki siblings exist, but it implies that they are somehow connected to the Quirk Singularity Theory (Shoto is shown as an example of how quirks combine to create stronger quirks, but perhaps we’ll learn some more about Touya to connect him to the theory as well).

The Mystery Continues: Touya’s Quirk

Season 5, Episode 7 gives us another flashback to Shoto’s childhood. Here, Endeavour comments on some very interesting details of Touya’s quirk...

“Touya was close. He had more firepower than me, but he had Rei’s weak constitution. He... was close”

It’s also worth noting that the English Dub of this scene has Endeavour end this line with, “He was close, until...”

So what does this teach us?

FIRST: The English Dub implies he was doing well UNTIL something happened. Was it the incident that Natsuo was referring to? Either way, it has once again created intrigue.

SECOND: Touya had a fire quirk, and it was even stronger than Endeavour’s (hey, look at that, kind of like quirk singularity, right? How the next generation gets stronger than their parents?).

Viewers may have been able to theorize that Touya had a fire quirk based purely on his hair colour (think of how Shoto’s hair represents which side produces which quirk) but this line gives us solid confirmation on his quirk.

THIRD: Touya “had Rei’s weak constitution”. Now, it’s debatable on what exactly a “weak constitution” means. Is this referring to his resolve? Was he too passive? Or is this referring to something else? (Perhaps Rei’s physical constitution?)

Well, wouldn’t you know it, but all the way back in Season 5, Episode 2 (the same one where we learn Touya’s name, go figure) we hear this exact phrase used in reference to the original OFA user... but ONLY in the English Dub.

Here’s what AFO says in the sub...

“My brother is frail”

...vs the dub

“My little brother has a weak constitution”

This gives us a direct reference point that a “weak constitution” in this series can be another way of saying someone is frail (and even if you don’t want to cross reference the dub and sub, OFA is portrayed as weak no matter what). This seems to tie in well with the fact that Touya was so much smaller and appeared weaker than his supposed younger siblings.

The Through Line: Arc Rearrangement

If you didn’t know, I’m here to tell you that the anime pulled a little sneaky on us manga readers by rearranging the arcs.

The manga originally went from Joint Training to (the upcoming arc) to Endeavour Agency, and while the anime has kept these events in the same chronological order, it changed the way they were presented to us. Endeavour Agency has been put first, which means we get more Touya information a heck of a lot closer to the rest of his reveals, compared to the manga.

Regardless of how you personally feel about the arc rearrangement, it works wonders for Touya’s mystery. Endeavour is sprinkled throughout many episodes of the Joint Training Arc in the anime, so it feels rather natural to go straight to the Agency Arc because Endeavour is acting as our narrative through line. He’s been a reoccurring presence, so it doesn’t feel as if he’s coming out of nowhere. 

The Reward: The Photo

If you’ve been paying attention to the clues the series has left regarding the missing Todoroki child, you are rewarded in Season 5, Episode 17.

The episode is rather... flashback heavy, but it does a good job reminding us of all the Todoroki drama before we head to the dinner. And at the end of the episode (literally the last thing we see before the ED), observant viewers who have been keeping track of Touya are rewarded when we finally get to see...

... Touya’s face. The first instance where it’s unobstructed. There he is. The missing Todoroki son. He’s so cute!

(Also yes yes I know his hair is now white and I’m sure that was very confusing for anime onlies. However, I promise it is the same kid.)

But, perhaps more importantly, we learn the implication that Touya is dead. His photo is on a shrine where Endeavour is praying, and the shrine seems to be set up in a child’s room that has remain unchanged (small shoes, a soccer ball, and toys on the bookshelf, all of which seem to be too young for any of the living Todoroki siblings). Suddenly it becomes all too clear why the family didn’t bring him up that often, and why Natsuo was so upset about “what happened to our big brother, Touya”.

The Tease: What Comes Next?

Season 5, Episode 18 leaves us with a teaser for the future of Keeping Up With The Todoroki's.

Touya’s death is confirmed, and we even learn a bit more on the circumstances surrounding it, as we learn Endeavour feels responsible for whatever happened. We also learned that Natsuo blames Endeavour, hinting that he certainly played some part in it.

However, all of these hints lead to a story for another time (more likely Season 6, to be precise). I won’t spoil what exactly happens, but I can confirm that we eventually see Touya’s death and the events leading up to it through flashback, and I’m honestly so excited.

Perhaps I’ll make a part 2 to this post when the anime gets to that point.

Hope you enjoyed!

[gaiuswrites]

King of Cups || Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Tower

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | two

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: You’re apart of the Refugee Relief Movement, an intergalactic organization providing aid throughout the systems, and you find yourself assisting at a resettlement camp in Lothal when disaster strikes, changing your life forever, intertwining your path with that of a certain Mandalorian bounty hunter.

Word count: 3.7k~

Rated: Mature

Warnings: descriptive violence, blood/injury mentioning, danger, mature language

Notes: Hi y'all, welcome. This fic is going to be set during Season 2 of The Mandalorian, and will be what I like to call ‘canon adjacent’. ALSo, this chapter is very much so Reader focused, setting up the scene and the general pacing of the story, but naturally, Din will be more and more featured as things progress. I’m a sucker for backstory and a slow burn, so ye be warned. Please feel free to reach out to me. :) I’d love to hear from you lovely little beans. Be safe out there, friends.

Lothal was a planet all too familiar with occupation.

You remember seeing a quote somewhere that read ‘Look no further than Lothal if you want to see what happens when the Empire takes control of an entire world’; and although the Imperial chokehold had loosened when the Empire fell, the planet, even all these years later, still found itself gasping for breath. 

Off world migration from the Core Worlds had been popularized since the expansion of the Imperial government bureaucracy, which brought booming business opportunities for the fortunate few, but as the rich became richer, the poor grew poorer. The Lothalites were forced out of their homes, off their own lands—refugees on their own planet; forced to resettle and relocate with nothing but the clothes on their back and the possessions they could cram into their pockets. The only heirlooms passed on from generation to generation were that of poverty, tall tales of former splendor, and the greatest of ancestral traumas: disillusionment.

The truly desperate turned to crime, and what couldn’t be solved by back-dealings and blaster fire was managed with fear mongering and the bitter flair of xenophobia. There was always a species to blame, and it was always the one who seemed to be doing better off, no matter how slight the margin. 

Greed. Fear. Despair. These are the currencies in which the galaxy trades. 

And so it was then, and continued to be, cycle after cycle. History, always finding clever ways to repeat itself.

On bad days, pollution still loomed heavy over the atmosphere—remnants of the fires from the Imperial occupation still clinging on to Lothal’s weary bones. She had been stripped during that time; gutted and strung up by her feet to dangle from the Empire’s meat hook, exsanguinated slowly, drop by drop, until she had nothing left to give. Her resources and minerals and ore and water and seed, robbed. Pillaged.

She’s free from it now, but the scars remain— the planet remembers. Her people do not forget. Like muscle memory, they all ungulate to this synthesized rhythm they can’t seem to shake, day in and day out, wandering. Forever unsettled.

The planet had always had a diverse population and had become something of a safe haven for other abandoned people fleeing their home worlds, determined to find somewhere - anywhere - for them to survive. Lothal provided that for them. It wasn’t rich or bountiful by any stretch, but it was simple and safe—safe in the way hidden things in plain sight are. One could blend into the crowd of many, unique faces, of all races and backgrounds; you could be anonymous, if you wanted. You could be free.

That’s how you’ve found yourself here in Jortho. You had been with the Refugee Relief Movement for the better part of what felt like forever, and they had transferred you to this planet not six weeks ago. You were out on rotation; the RRM sends someone new twice a cycle for the span of a month or two to varying locations to supply rations, aid with the influx of refugees, organize resettlement lodgings, and generally be of assistance when and where you could. However, your tenure on this temperate planet was coming to a close, and soon you’d be flying back to the headquarters on Coruscant before being bounced to another post somewhere out among the stars. 

You love your job. You know it’s unpopular to say, but you do. It’s fulfilling and impactful and indescribably special. The individuals you meet, the stories you hear, they’re invaluable— priceless and precious, like handmade trinkets crafted by the fingers of a child; you press them all to your heart, holding them there. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get to you— the weight of it; the plights of all of these people, all of these lives, burdening your conscience. It isn’t always painless— you aren’t immune to it. Even so, on most nights you manage to sleep easy, tucked away aboard the transport freighter you flew in on with the batch of settlers newly assimilated into town knowing Maker, at least you were doing something— anything— everything you could.

And really, to call Jortho a town would be an insult to all towns everywhere—but ‘town’ has a certain charm to it that ‘refugee camp’ simply did not, and it gave the people hope. Pride, even. That they belonged somewhere.

You suppose that’s all anyone wants. To belong. 

A feather soft gust of wind tickles the golden blades of prairie grass as the sun, bleary and tired, starts dipping from the sky. The crickbeets begin their song early, trilling, sensing Lothal’s moons still coyly tucked away, hiding somewhere along the horizon. A smile adorns your face, private and serene, as you bring a bowl of broth up to your lips, humming when the warm liquid meets your tongue. You sigh, contented, taking in the sights before you; how the dusk blurs the aromatic air, making it opaque, the shuttles docked across the way from you casting long purple shadows onto the flat plains, the snowcapped mountains in the distance bordering the cant of the planet’s surface, nestling Jortho in a shallow valley.

You feel calm, at peace, and take another sip.

An easy moment passes, and it’s the last one you get before silence stalks up from behind you.

You don’t notice it at first, like any patient predator, it goes undetected: the white noise, the nothingness— until finally, you do and then suddenly it’s everywhere. On top of you. Smothering you. Goosebumps stipple your skin and you bristle. The insects have stopped chirping. The breeze has stilled. The air hangs dead. 

And then—

Chaos.

You’re hit with a blast of crushing heat, the sheer power of it picking you up off your feet and onto your side, sending your body careening into a nearby structure. Your shoulder takes most of the blow, but your neck still snaps backwards unnaturally, the back of your head colliding with the stone wall behind you with a dull thwack. You let out a groaned cry at the impact, the wind knocked out of your lungs as you crumple to the ground.

For an instant, your vision goes white, stars popping and fusing out in front of your pupils, and it’s like you can feel everything and nothing all at once, hollow but overwhelmed, and all you want to do is close your eyes and drift asleep— Maker that would feel like a luxury, just right here on the damn dirt. And you almost do, you almost let yourself slip under and sink— until you hear a piercing scream from somewhere close. 

Immediately your eyes shoot open, desperately blinking away the blurriness that threatens to over take them, and you try pushing yourself up by the heels of your scraped hands, failing once - twice - before finding your footing. You’re shaky at first, uncoordinated and dizzy and redownloading bipedalism, before that sweet drug of adrenaline starts to course through your veins and finally, finally, you take in your surroundings. 

The ships that once stood across the field are gone, obliterated, and in their place only metal ribcages remain—empty carcasses like dead birds splayed on their backsides, imploded from the inside out, their bits strewn all around you. 

Your breathing comes hard and heavy, fighting down panic, and cloudy eyes search through the thick black smoke billowing up in stacks, trying to pin point the source of the scream you’d heard just moments ago. You cough a strained wheeze, sputtering against the charred air, and wade your way through the debris— it’s only then that you realize the magnitude of the explosion. It’s not just the landing bay, it’s half the kriffing village. The buildings that neighbored the airfield had been decimated, burning roofs and crumbling fixtures, homes collapsing onto themselves, scorch marks and shrapnel branding the outsides of the shanties left standing.

It looks like a battlefield. You’ve seen holovids of this—what war can look like, how it can ruin a people… But you’ve never had to stand in the middle of it, head on. 

Your heart drums against your chest as you break into a hobbled run, desperately scanning the area for any signs of life, up and down, left and right, straining against the waning daylight. It’s then that you hear your name, urgent and frantic, and you whip your head in it’s direction, knees nearly buckling in relief. You immediately recognize your friend Hareem, brandishing her arms at you, waving you over to her. 

“Thank the Maker, you’re alright!” the Balosar cries out, trembling hands finding purchase on your shoulders, bracing you. You don’t know if its for your benefit or her own, but either way you’re grateful for the grounding pressure; for the first time since the initial blast, you feel solid, like you won’t just float away, atomized and weightless. Worried, you look her over. A sliver of fresh scarlet blooms from her scalp, a small line trickling down past her temple, but she otherwise looks relatively unharmed. You grasp onto her wrist, squeezing firmly.

“What the hell happened?” You ask, voice low and pitched, wide fearful eyes drilling into her.

“T-There was a man-” And she shakes her head, mouth clamping shut, deep wrinkles framing her face.

“Hareem,” you reassure, giving her another squeeze. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

She tries again with a steadying inhale, “I-I saw him. A-a man. He had a device with him, and he set charges, and Maker I don’t know— I don’t know— it went off a-and he ran towards the center of town!” The Balosar is in hysterics, tears spilling down her dirty cheeks, and it takes your brain a moment to catch up, to wrap your mind around the words she’s stuttering out. 

A man. 

Device. 

Charges.

A bomb. This wasn’t an accident; this was an attack—and he’s still kriffing here. You cup her cheeks, thumbs rubbing against the pale skin, smearing away the blood that’s nearly dripped to her chin. Your friend’s gaze is flighty, everywhere and nowhere, and you try giving her a smile, but you’re not quite sure you manage it.

“Hareem? Hareem. Hey, shh, you’re okay. You’re alright…” You peel your eyes off her to glance around hurriedly. “We need to find cover.”

///

You’re holed up in one of the few remaining homes on this side of the encampment, crowded into the small space with three other survivors. All four of you, packed in and silent and petrified. Unsure of any further threat, you stay completely still. Helpless. Laying here, idle, for whatever awaits you behind that feeble, wooden door. You feel like prey for the wicked, just passing the time.

Minutes inch along like this—or maybe its hours; time moves eerily different when you’re attempting to become invisible—and eventually, you almost begin to relax.

Almost.

But a new sound breaks the din, hard to recognize at first, indistinct from all the commotion outside their hut, but you hear it. You all do. The youngest of you, a teenaged Devaronian, grips onto the hem of your shirt, knuckles creasing with anticipation. You tense, spine going rigid. Footsteps. They’re slow, guarded, but they’re getting closer. You bring an arm up, for all the good it’ll do, creating a human shield in front of the boy at your side. Closer. Someone behind you muffles a whimper. Closer. A Bardottan you hadn’t even met until today let’s out the faint whisper of a prayer, lips barely ghosting over the phrases. Closer- 

and then, nothing.

They’re here. You can sense him, see his shadow sweep across the gaps in the entryway. You all hold your breath, as if the air is being syphoned out of the space… And the door is flung open, nearly breaking off it’s hinges as it slams into the inside of the house, shuttering the rickety walls with a jarring bang. 

You don’t know who looks more astonished: you four, or the Mandalorian before you, dripping head to toe in silver plated armor, pointing a blaster directly at your head.

“Where is he?” He asks, hard edged and modulated, and it’s more of a demand than a question—but he lowers his weapon all the same, holstering it at his side. You gape at him, guppying wordlessly. “Volcur X’elo. The bomber. Where?” He hasn’t moved an inch out of the doorframe but he’s still managing to loom over you, completely filling up the archway, shoulders set and impossibly intimidating.

You gulp, finally finding your voice. “In town, i-in the center of town…” Kriff, you had not idea if that intel was good or not, but it’s all you think to say. Seeming satisfied with your answer he turns on his booted heel, cape whipping behind him, leaving just as soon as he arrived. The dust barely has time to settle as the door teeter’s on its hinge, its rusty squeaks filling the void in the Mandalorian’s wake.

“Fuck,” you hiss, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, doubling forward, propping your palms up on your knees.

///

After deliberating it with your group, you all come to the agreement of braving it outside. Better to be out under the open sky than die under a concaving apartment, clambering over each other to get to the exit. After all this, at least your dignity was still partially in tact— normally, you reckon you’d chuckle dryly at that. But you don’t. 

Can’t. 

You lead the pack through the mazelike streets. The sights that once seemed so familiar after weeks of living here become like strangers to you, and you sleepwalk through Jortho, snaking down paths marred by rubble and fallen wreckage— you haven’t seen any bodies, but maybe that isn’t true. Maybe you’re just too scared to notice them. Maybe they’re there, hovering just outside of your peripherals, haunting the corners of your vision… 

You keep your head fixed forward, jaw clenched.

Your feet move on their own like this, only vaguely aware that the red-skinned boy still hadn’t let go of your tunic. You forge on. Have to. You have to. Your only purpose on this kriffing planet was to help these people, to bring them aid, and if that means simply planting one foot in front of the other, then so be it. You take side alleys, double backing here and there, ducking under canopies, looping around yourself, only stopping when you catch a glimpse of beskar, the orange setting sun glinting off the surface of his helmet.

And he’s not alone.

You freeze suddenly, as do the rest, and the Devaronian bumps into you, stumbling under his lanky legs. Some paces in front of you, the bounty hunter has the other man, this Volcur X’elo, by a punishing grip on his shoulders, shoving him forcefully out in front of him; his wrists are bound and he’s fitful without the stabilization of his arms, his feet staccatoed and flailing wildly beneath him as the Mandalorian marches him forward. 

The wind shifts, and on it you can hear the bomber rant madly, only catching snippets of the vile nonsense that spews from him.“- like swine, they are a plague to the system! And they must be purged from this planet, and the next, and the next— every last filthy one!” You spare a glance to Hareem, to find her watching the scene in hypnotized horror, but your eyes snap back at the sound of something maniacal, drawing your attention. It’s laughter. The zealot begins to laugh a twisted, mocking cry that makes you want to vomit. “You might have me in binders Mandalorian, but you’re too late. You’re too late. This isn’t over!” He’s practically giggling, gleeful and demented. Disturbed. “You’ve only found one.”

Your blood runs cold. 

Only one? Oneoneoneone, one what-

The realization hits you with a punch to your gut. He’s only detonated one of his bombs. Somewhere, nearby, there must be another.

Without another word, the Mandalorian whips the smaller man around, pulling him sharply by his collar to collide with his breastplate, completely dwarfing him with his beskar frame. “Where is it, X’elo?” Nothing. Only laughter. High pitched, terrible roars. He tries again, patience ebbing. “The bomb. Now.” X’elo’s head tilts back and he howls another crowing shriek, keeping private his own sick joke, as if clutching a secret to his chest with slimy hands. 

The bounty hunter had heard enough. He clearly wasn’t getting anything more out of him, and with a quick strike, he rears his blaster and pistol whips the terrorist with it. The body drops. Volcur X’elo crumples, unconscious, blood streaming from where he was struck. You hear the Bardottan behind you stifle a cry with her fist. 

And with that, Lothal’s sun disappears completely, stealing away the last of it’s light as it furls into itself, shrinking out of sight. The dark ushers a new wave of dread, creeping over Jortho like a miasma, poisoning the very air.

The Mandalorian wheels around, searching for his heading in the labyrinth of the town. Others have gathered now, poking their heads around corners, stealing glimpses through windows. He turns, his head on a swivel. “Where is your power generator?” he demands, addressing the small crowd, but you’re all too stunned to speak. “Anybody. Generator. Now.” There’s something new in his voice, something muddled, and it takes you a moment to interpret it. It’s desperation, you realize, tinny and deep through his vocoder, and with a surge of adrenaline you move forward, furthering yourself from your group. You swallow. “I-Its this way.” Upon hearing your voice, he spins around, his visor latching on to you, and with a nod you both set out. 

“Watch him,” the Mandalorian growls past his shoulder, stepping over the bounty’s limp body.

///

You’re still not really sure how he knew where it’d be, you wonder to yourself, gravel crunching under foot as you both trudge on, an eery quiet settling over them. You’d say it was a lucky hunch, but judging by the way the Mandalorian carries himself, you doubt luck had much to do with it. 

You had led him to the power generator hub on the other side of the sad excuse for a city, traveling in tense silence, and when you came upon that tall, bulky machine he sprang into action, circling it until he found what he was looking for. The bomb. You stood back, rooted there, and after some grunting and rewiring— or maybe he just hacked at it with a vibroblade, you had no idea; his wide frame engulfed his work and you couldn’t tell what he was up to, all you knew was that his methods proved successful— the man managed to disarm the second device. You had thought you noticed his shoulders release, slumping with relief, after the red flashing lights on the rudimentary interface flickered and then went dark.

And so here you are. The two of you, bathed in the bright light of Lothal’s twin moons, their bellies hanging full in the blue-black night, illuminating the trail of blood staining the dirt beneath your boots as the Mandalorian roughly drags the body by his ankle behind him— through the exploded rubble, through the fragmented lives of the people around you, already displaced and estranged. They’ll all have to move, you think, pack up their lives, or what little is left of them, and relocate. Again. The thought sinks in you like a stone, sobering you. 

Even with the weight of a fully grown man to lug, the bounty hunter is still a few long strides in front of you and your eyes are trained on the unconscious form, taking in the way his mouth lolls open like an animal, his hair matted with thick blood, eyes rolled back into his head. You’re talking out loud before you even realize it.

“How sick do you have to be,” you mumble, transfixed. Your voice, it’s not angry; no, shock has effectively robbed you of that— it’s not anger, but bewilderment. Quivering, broken bewilderment.

“H-How hoodwinked and warped you’d have to be, how disturbed... For you to think like that. To do all... all this...” 

“Hey,” his gruff voice shakes you from your trance, and you blink up at him, tearing your eyes off the body. “Focus,” he urges, and you can only nod dumbly back at him, suddenly feeling a ripple of nausea slither through you.

The ramp to his ship is lowering as they come upon it and you plant yourself at the base, feet seeming to stop on their own accord, and frankly you’re not really sure why you’ve even followed him this far in the first place— always a step behind him as he hauled his bounty all the way through the vestiges of Jortho, across the arid prairie to where he first touched down. Maybe it’s because you feel untethered, unmoored, and all of his steeled surety is like a lighthouse, a beacon, guiding you away from the rocks. 

He heaves X’elo up the ramp and you’re left standing there, staring unseeingly into the durasteel, becoming more and more aware of the ringing in your ears. The longer time passes, the more it’s as if you’re underwater, the background blurring into the foreground, sound gargled and far away. A high pitched buzz pinches your ear drums, and it takes you a moment to realize the Mandalorian is calling out to you, trying to get your attention.

“— Dala.”

Does he sound annoyed? Kriff, you think he might... If you had your wits about you, you might be able to recognize it. But as it stands, you don’t. You’re not here, not all of you. You’re splintered. Suspended.

“Hmm? Sorry, what..?” Your mouth is as dry as Jakku— parched desert tongue darting across your cracked lip, tasting soot and ash and something metallic. Brow furrowed, you touch a shaky finger to the flesh and when you pull it back, crimson red dots your skin. 

Oh, you think, numb. Huh. 

Your eyes skitter back up to the Mandalorian, towering over you, nearly at the apex of the incline, and his stance is broad and his fists are clenched. You’re almost positive he’s glaring down at you through his visor, and you don’t even know the man, can’t even see his damn face, but you can tell he’s peeved— Maker, just how long had you been ignoring him?

A scratched noise comes through his helmet’s vocoder and his next words are clipped, punctuated. “I said, do you have a way off this skug hole?”

[luvnami]

𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 (here) | 𝐖𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 | 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 | 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 - This is my entry for @jjkmag​ Summer Collab! It’s my first long fic in a while but I had a lot of fun writing this (that isn’t to say I think it’s very good. I hope the plot/finality was pulled off decently ok lol). I hope you enjoy it! I chose the prompt 'coming of age', though there are definitely scenes where the other prompts were present as well. Reblogs, comments, shares and likes are really appreciated!!

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @getousuguruwife​ @amjustagirl​ @aliteama​

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - Amnesia, Memory loss, Blood, Mild gore, Death, Blood loss, Bullying, Mild Racism (only in the first part), Corpses, Food, Manga spoilers, Pre-canon and canon compliant to a certain extent, Nightmares

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Nanami Kento's life has been... Good, bad, and everything in between. He (and many others) thinks he's mature, independent, the definition of what a proper adult should be like. But really, the only way he's made it this far is because you've been holding his hand the entire time.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 6.4k

The first memory Nanami has of you sits in a blurry haze at the back of his mind.

You’re probably four or five years old at best, squatting by a puddle in the empty kindergarten playground. Nanami wonders what made him waddle over to you that warm afternoon.

His shoes, scribbled with ugly caricatures in marker, carry him to the other side of the puddle. A shadow cast by a plastic slide slices your features neatly in half like a Greek theatre mask. Nanami doesn’t speak a word to you as he stares at your chubby fingers that push a fallen leaf around in the water as the surface ripples silently.

You look up at Nanami. He’s an odd child, excluded by the other kindergarteners because of how quiet and strange he is. Nanami’s blond hair is abnormal to the immature local Japanese children. They knee the back of his legs while calling him names like ‘banana-gaijin!’ and making fun of his fancy leather shoes.

“Do you wanna play with me?”

Nanami wonders if the words you speak to him are from your heart or something constructed from a plan to bully him again.

“My mama taught me how to make boats with leaves. See?” You point to the puddle. “We can race them.”

Nanami carefully selects a leaf off of the playground’s floor. It’s still green, freshly fallen from its branch. You grin toothily, your eyes sparkling.

“That’s a perfect leaf!” you declare.

Nanami thinks he wants to play with you forever.

He follows you around in school like a lost puppy after that, clutching his hands nervously when you stand up to the children who bully him. Nanami wonders if you’ll ever turn your back on him. He arrives earlier than you every morning and hurriedly scrubs at your table with his handkerchief to get rid of nasty words and obscene drawings, heart thumping against his cotton polo. When his mother asks him why his new handkerchief is so dirty, he remains silent and grips the hem of his shirt tightly.

Children are children; Nanami learns. Afraid of abnormalities, they defend their right to innocence and ego with harsh words and various schemes. He learns to ignore the whispers behind his back. What he can’t disregard, though, is when they lash out at you.

They jeer when you trip during P.E. classes and bump into you on purpose when you carry your lunch tray. You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Nanami holds your hand gently and leads you to the nurse’s office with scraped knees, hiccuping and swiping at your eyes roughly.

He wonders why you don’t take the easy way out and just stop being friends with him. What’s wrong with you? You hold him tightly, a bundle of thorns, in your soft hands and pretend that you’re not bleeding.

“Ken-chan?” you sniffle.

He turns.

“You’re my best friend, right?”

Nanami gulps. He doesn’t question why you cry on graduation day, bidding your final farewell to him with vague promises of meeting in the same elementary school. Something in his chest doesn’t sit right; the kind of feeling when his mother threw out his old stuffed toys after she deemed him too old for them anymore.

He watches you grow smaller and smaller in the rear window of his family car till you’re the size of an ant, his knees digging into the leather seats.

“Sit down, Kento,” his father chides.

Nanami ignores him. He watches you wave your hand in the air as the car turns around the corner and lurches into the seat.

☆*: .｡.

Nanami’s genuinely surprised when he finds out that his assigned seat is right next to you on the first day of elementary school. You’re no different, mouth wide open in an ‘o’ as you stare at him.“Ken-chan!”

You almost yell, and Nanami shushes you as his face heats up. He finds out that your mothers had conspired to put the both of you into the same school. He can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing just yet, but peace settles into his chest the same way the wings of a bird return to its sides after flight when you giggle at his flustered expression.

Through nine years of elementary and junior high school together, Nanami learns that you always arrange the tips of your pencils to face the right side of your pencil box, and you keep the torn bits of movie tickets shoved into your bedside drawer. You find that Nanami has a knack for dry humour — he’s blunt at every moment possible (which caused much distress after he talked back to a teacher that one time) and can usually be bribed for any favour as long as you pay him in food.

What the both of you find oddly shocking, though, is that no one else can see the creatures that swim through walls and perch in dark corners of the school.

They make you sweat whenever they get too close, bulbous eyes and strange bodies twisting in ways that shouldn’t be physically possible. Sometimes they make noises, whispering or coaxing or shrieking or crying in broken sentences.

Nanami learns to treat them as background noise. You, on the other hand, find that a little more complicated. Sometimes you latch onto him when one brushes against your arm, squeaking and swatting at them in an attempt to chase them away.

“They’re so gross!” you’d whine, pressing yourself even closer to Nanami. “Did you see that one in the gym yesterday? It had tentacles!”

In cases like this, the blond clears his throat and ignores you, averting his gaze. He doesn’t admit to anyone, not even himself, that the warmth of your skin through your uniform makes his heart skip a beat. You’ve grown so close to him that you even know that Nanami sleeps with Doraemon pajamas (absolutely, abhorrently embarrassing. He made his mother throw them out the night after you came over for a sleepover). It was inevitable for him to develop feelings.

Nanami shoves his feelings below a lid and sits on top of it, keeping them under lock and key. He’s sure this is just something to do with puppy love or ‘infatuations’ that are underlined in the puberty print-outs the school distributed, alongside scientific diagrams of genitals that the boys in his class giggle at.

Being friends is enough. Or so he thinks, anyway.

☆*: .｡.

It’s a Friday evening when the sky is dark, and street lights flicker in the distance. Nanami munches away on melon bread from a convenience store while you sip on a carton of juice. Your clubs had ended late today, so the sun was down by the time you left school.

“How’s the bread?” you ask, slurping up the last drops of your drink.

Nanami chews and swallows while you dab at your mouth with a yellow cotton handkerchief.

“It’s okay. Not as good as a bakery’s, though. Kinda stale.”

He crumples the plastic packaging in his hand and sticks it into his pocket, planning to dispose of it later. The both of you round the corner to the bus stop, and your feet fall still. A large curse sits in the middle of the road.

Numerous cars are crumpled like drink cans, smoke, and gasoline leaking onto the streets. There’s blood. Too much blood, in fact, that they seem like puddles of rain on the dark tarmac. Your juice box drops from your hand.

The curse turns to you, its teeth split vertically down the centre of what constitutes a face. Multiple eyes run down the length of its engorged body where various hands and feet stick out at random parts.

“Blood… Blood…” it moans in a cryptic voice.

Nanami stands with his feet frozen to the ground, eyes wide in horror. His knuckles turn white as he grips his school bag. Run, run, run! He screams internally, but his limbs don’t listen to him. The curse slides over the road towards him, slipping through the blood easily.

“Give me… Your blood…”

A part of the curse’s body bubbles up into a large hand. It swings itself back before throwing its newly created appendage towards Nanami. RUN RUN RUN! His legs don’t move. He squeezes his eyes shut, awaiting the impact. Except that it doesn’t hit him. Nothing hurts, except the shrill scream that pierces his ears. Nanami’s eyes snap open in horror. 

“Kento!” you yell, dangling upside down as the curse pulls you towards its mouth.

Your school bag lays on the ground below, books scattered as their pages turn red.  

“Run!”

Nanami drops everything as he scrambles towards you, tripping over his own two feet and landing face-first in the blood. His hands and knees sting. He shoves himself and gets up with his teeth clenched. You kick your feet in the air in a poor attempt to escape the curse’s grip but to no avail. Another groan is squeezed out of you as the curse opens its mouth, the foul stench of rotting bodies engulfing you.

“Run, Kento!” you plead.

How can he turn his back on you? Sweat drips down his forehead as Nanami pulls his hand back. The adrenaline that rushes through his blood clears in a split-second moment of raw emotion; anger, disappointment, confusion, sadness. A tingling sort of energy floods his body, and Nanami takes a sharp breath of air. He sees something like a ruler — a line divided equally with ten markings, the seventh one crossed out. His fist connects with it.

The curse lets out a weak moan of pain, shaking you around as it recoils from Nanami’s hit. It’s not much, just a surface injury at most. Nanami’s limbs tremble with exertion. One more time, again and again, until you’re safe-

A thick, gross liquid engulfs Nanami as the curse explodes in front of his very eyes. He coughs, running a slimy hand over his face. It smells like death.

“Woah! You put too much into that again, Satoru.” 

“Shut up!”

Nanami looks up as he hears footsteps move towards him, the quiet splashing of blood beneath shoes.

“Ugh, this place is so gross.”

“You okay there, kiddo?”

Nanami looks up to find a male with his hair pulled back into a bun staring at him. Behind him is a white-haired teenager with sunglasses (strange, hasn’t the sun already gone down?) and an imposing-looking man.

Where are you?

Nanami glances around frantically amidst the dead bodies that lie on the ground. Not you, not you, not- A tiny sliver of hope slips into his heart when he spots your uniform, and he stumbles over.

“Woah! Slow down!”

He calls out your name, slipping and collapsing onto his knees. Your eyes are closed, and a wound on your head oozes blood. A young girl with short hair reaches out to touch you, but Nanami pulls you into his chest, his eyes wide.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

His head spins. Are these good people? How did they just destroy that big monster? He hadn’t even seen them coming. Were they going to hurt you?

“Calm down, man! We’re good guys.”

“No one’s going to trust you when you say that, Satoru.”

The girl stares at Nanami.

“I’ll take care of your injuries. Can you let me see them, please?”

He relaxes. His grip on you loosens, and the girl feels for your pulse, nodding in affirmation.

“Alive.”

Nanami breathes a sigh of relief. At this realisation, his body begins to tremble like a leaf in the wind. He digs his nails into his palms but still they quiver. His heart pounds in his chest and he struggles to take a deep breath, exhaustion overtaking him.

“Hey, you okay?”

His eyes fall shut. 

☆*: .｡.

Nanami finds out over a hot cup of tea that those monsters are called curses, and not everyone can see them.

“Lucky you!” Gojo chimes in.

Lucky? His face wrinkles in despair and Getou laughs so loud at his reaction that he has to step out of the room.

Nanami had sustained minor injuries — nothing beyond a few scrapes and some trauma. You were fine for the most part. After hitting your head on the ground, you remained unconscious for a few more days after Nanami had woken up. You were covered in a few bruises, but otherwise alright. 

Nanami was infinitely thankful for that

Yaga tells him that he has enough aptitude to become a full-fledged sorcerer. The school he teaches at is called Jujutsu High and is located on the outskirts of Tokyo. Since he’s in his final year of junior high, why not give it a thought if he wants to join them? Nanami holds Yaga’s name card numbly.

He looks up at Yaga, only one objective clear in his mind. He doesn’t want to see you hurt any longer.

“Will you teach me how to exorcise curses?” he asks.

Gojo laughs outrightly and Geto snorts. Yaga gives him a confident smile, clapping Nanami on the shoulder (he doesn’t quite like that, but he overlooks it for now).

“You can count on that.”

☆*: .｡.

Nanami’s a little apprehensive about entering Jujutsu High, especially when you decide to enrol as well. Given the ability to see curses, you were adamant about learning to help others with this ability you were gifted with. He relented and sulked for the rest of the day until you gave him a cup of pudding.

The first day Nanami and you enter Jujutsu Tech, you meet a wide-eyed boy named Haibara Yu. He’s overly optimistic and passionate — precisely the kind of person that Nanami tires of interacting with. In fact, the very first thing Haibara says upon meeting the both of you irritates him.

“Woah! Blondie, are you from an emo band or something? Your hair really matches the vibe!” Haibara had gasped.

You struggled to suppress your giggles, biting on your lower lip as you turned to the side. Nanami, on the other hand, didn’t find it quite as funny.

“No, I’m not. Nice to meet you too,” he replied monotonously.

It takes all of the following month for Nanami to get used to Haibara’s eccentricities. He always does his best during training, mingles enthusiastically with the upperclassmen and chows down on at least two bowls of rice during break time. The most annoying part about him is how Haibara seems to get along so well with you.

You laugh too loudly for Nanami’s liking at his jokes, squeeze in between Haibara and him (brushing shoulders with the both of them! Seriously!) when they’re standing together just to listen in on Haibara’s monologuing, and sometimes even end up sparring with him instead of Nanami.

The blond curses that there is an odd number of first years and peers in the mirror after his shower as he wonders what he would look like with a black bowl cut. He even tries to finish more than one serving of ginger pork on one particular day and gets sent to the school nurse for a tummy ache.

Though, the three of you have chemistry that works out when fighting curses. Nanami is the primary damage dealer of the group, while you learn how to provide support with Haibara and create openings for Nanami to attack. So on your first ‘real group mission’ assigned to you by Yaga, you can’t help but set off with overflowing excitement.

It isn’t often that you have the opportunity to step outside of Jujutsu High on your own without supervision. Even on weekends, you’re usually expected to train or study. The sun shines warmly down upon the streets of Asakusa, and tourists and locals alike swarm the city area.

“Hey! We should totally give Sensou-ji Temple a visit later!” Haibara suggests, pumping his fist in the air.

“We’re not here to sightsee,” Nanami sighs.

“That’s what you said the last time we went to Okinawa, and guess what, Nanamin! We didn’t even get to try their sushi!”

“Yeah, and you forgot to bring back souvenirs for me, Ken-chan,” you chime in.

“I told you to stop adding -chan to my name.” 

“Why not? Doesn’t it sound cute?” 

“Mhm!”

Haibara nods furiously. Nanami ignores the both of you with a sigh. He slings a bag containing his sword over his shoulder once more as the crowd barely makes space for you to move through.

“We can’t take too long,” he relents.

The cheers and high-fives that you and Haibara give each other make a vein bulge on Nanami’s temple. He tries not to read too much into the way you immediately begin discussing what places to visit and eat at with Haibara — didn’t you care for his opinion? He shakes his head and increases his pace, leaving the both of you behind.

Nanami ignores the cries of ‘Ken-chan!’ and ‘Nanamin!’ that ring out through the crowd. Whatever. If you want to be with Haibara, then Nanami will gladly get out of the way for you. He drags his feet on the pavement and settles for a cup of iced tea in a nearby cafe gloomily.

What Nanami is doing is… childish. He knows, at the very least, that he should be happy the both of you have met a nice new friend. But he can’t help the jealousy that rises in his chest like smoke in a chimney when he sees you cling onto Haibara the same way you used to do to him.

Was Haibara nicer, more good-looking, stronger, funnier, gentler, better than every single trait in Nanami combined? You no longer ask Nanami how he slept the previous night, instead running over to Haibara and greeting him cheerily. Forget about how you used to come over to Nanami’s house to study after school — you and Haibara disappear to who knows where after training everyday.

He bites down on his straw. The bitter taste of a lemon seed fills his mouth and Nanami spits it out onto a napkin with more force than necessary. He takes a deep breath. He should make things clear to you, then, and let you know how he feels about you. To him, it sounds a little like love.

Nanami’s face flushes with embarrassment. Love is… Love isn’t this. It definitely isn’t getting jealous over your relationships with other people, nor is it forcing you to accept his feelings out of spite. He finishes the last bit of his iced tea, the straw making a gurgling noise as it fails to suck up any more liquid. He leaves his money by the counter and walks back outside, returning his heart back to its safe, clicking the lock shut once more. His shoulders sag as he lets out a pent-up sigh.

Nanami squints at his phone. The golden sunlight makes it difficult to read his messages, but he manages to pick out four missed calls from you and a hundred text messages from Haibara. His blood runs cold when he scrolls to the last text that he received.

Haibara Yu, 4.25p.m.:  curse help 6 cho

It’s currently 4.35p.m. 6-chome is a 15 minutes walk away, five minutes if he sprints fast enough. Nanami hopes that you’re okay, that Haibara has enough sense to call for other back-up or avoid the curse.

Nanami’s feet pound under him as he shoves his way through the crowds, earning distasteful looks and swears. He doesn’t care. Not when you and Haibara are facing a possible grade 2 curse alone, and not when it’s because of Nanami’s irresponsibility and useless emotions that had caused the three of you to be separated.

His breath comes quick and hard and his thighs burn, screaming for relief. He makes a sharp turn and almost crashes into a bicycle.

“Watch where you’re going!” an angry housewife yells, but her words fall on deaf ears.

Just a little more, he begs.

Nanami hears the fighting before he sees it. The sound of metal meeting metal and the roar of the curse sound uncharacteristically comforting to him as he draws his sword, racing to bear a fighting stance.

But he’s too late.

“Yu!” you cry out as Haibara crumples onto the ground.

His eyes meet Nanami’s. His uniform is tattered, face bearing wounds and his right arm is bent at an unnatural shape, almost like a knotted tree branch. You seem relatively unhurt, although your breathing is laboured.

“Kento,” Haibara wheezes.

Nanami’s feet don’t move. His chest heaves, perspiration pouring down his face and drenching his uniform. The grip on his sword slips ever so slightly. The curse stands at the end of a ruined district. You aren’t trained to fight in such close quarters, or reduce the number of casualties to a bare minimum. 

And Nanami hadn’t been here to provide damage to exorcise it.

“Who are you? Another small fry?” the curse scoffs.

It takes the body of a geisha, dressed in luxurious robes that whip about in the air. Consciousness? This isn’t a grade 2 by any means — it’s a special grade curse. The will to fight slips out of Nanami like water from a cup, trickling from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

“Haibara!” Nanami shouts.

The male gives Nanami one last smile from where he is.

“You’ve got it from here,” he whispers, lips barely moving.

The geisha stretches out its hand, a portion of its obi moving along with it. You and Nanami watch in horror as Haibara’s head is neatly decapitated from his body. His blood drips off of the ends of the robes as the curse cackles, his head rolling to a stop as his half-closed eyes stare up at Nanami like a dead fish’s.

“You think you can beat me? Look at your little friend!”

Fury rushes into Nanami like a wave meeting the shore.

“You’ll die here by my hands!” the curse roars.

You take a step back as the geisha prepares to launch another attack, silk sashes drawn back into the sky before they plunge back at you two in an aerial attack. Nanami leaps through the attacks as his body moves faster than he can process it.

You, on the other hand, create a shield out of cursed energy to try and deflect the attacks. At the very least, Haibara deserves a proper burial. There isn’t time for mourning now, and you have to wipe away the tears that pool in your eyes. You try to ignore the way his head rolls closer to your foot and bumps against it gently.

Nanami lets out a yell of anger. His cursed energy swells as he cuts his way through the sashes, movement based on momentum than anything else at this point. His mind is clouded with regret and frustration. Nanami channels his anger into his sword, the ten destined lines appearing before his eyes once more.

The curse lets out a cry of pain as it stumbles back, sashes redrawn as it tries to gauge its wounds. Blood gushes from a slash on its side and Nanami darts forward again — again, again, again, until its dead. His legs, however, are weaker than what he thinks they can bear. Nanami stumbles in his step.

“Ken!” you shout.

The curse grins. It takes little to no time to regenerate, skin overlapping raw flesh as it gets back onto its feet.

“You’re weak,” it taunts. “First your friend, now you. I’ll be sure to savour the last one as well!”

Nanami struggles to get back onto his feet. He gasps, heart ripping a hole through his chest. He’s so exhausted; so worn out, that his arms refuse to raise his sword above chest height. He curses.

You run over to Nanami, grabbing his uniform and dragging him back. The curse starts to chant ominously. Its face turns dark, taking steps that sway its body with thick, lacquered geta. You shove Nanami back as you’re engulfed by its domain, swallowed up by darkness and spit into a tatami room. He barely has time to call your name before you disappear.

“Shit!”

Nanami stumbles back onto his feet, but sinks down onto his knees again. His shoulders quake as he tries to suck in breaths of air, but his throat is too dry. He coughs and adjusts his grip on his sword. Shit, shit, shit. All of his partners tossed themselves at death as if it was an idle thing just to protect him. What was Nanami doing? He would never become a sorcerer like this, never be able to protect you.

He grits his teeth. He’ll never be enough.

Nanami picks up his sword, wrapping his fingers around its hilt one more time. He dashes towards the domain, tasting iron as he hacks and slashes at it. Again, again, and again. His hands turn numb and his cursed energy flickers like a candle’s flame, but there’s one thing Nanami’s insistent on — getting you out of there.

The domain finally collapses as Nanami finally steadies himself on his feet. You roll to the ground, breath shallow. Your uniform is sliced up in different areas and a pool of blood begins to spread where your head meets the floor.

“Ken…?” you whisper.

Nanami smells it — the scent of death. Why did he ever choose to become a sorcerer over an ordinary high school life? He wouldn’t have dragged you into this mess, caused you to be hurt time and time again. Nanami calls out your name tentatively. You don’t respond.

The curse roars with laughter as your eyes fall shut, “Don’t you see how I’m so strong? You’re nothing compared to me-”

Nanami sees red. He launches himself forward, brandishing his sword even if it’s for the last time.

He doesn’t remember what happens afterwards.

Nanami sinks into a pool of blood, head spinning with exertion. Your body lays to his left, Haibara’s head to his right. He collapses to the ground.

☆*: .｡.

When he comes to, Nanami’s eyes struggle to adjust to the white light that floods the room. It smells vaguely like antiseptic. He slowly sits up, body aching with exhaustion with telltale bandages wrapped around most of his exposed limbs.

A drawn curtain separates his bed from the rest of the room, which he assumes to be Jujutsu Tech’s sickbay. He runs a hand over his face and lies back down, letting sleep take him by the hand and lead him a step further from reality.

Nanami wakes up a second time when Shouko returns to the room. He stares at her, blinking once, then twice.

“Nanami?” she asks softly. “Can you hear me?”

He tries to reply, but his throat is parched. He ends up coughing, wrinkling his face as pain spreads through his ribs. Shouko rushes to get him a glass of water and calls the rest (namely Yaga and Gojo) over. Nanami nurses the glass as Yaga takes a seat by his bed.

There are no questions, only condolences and murmured explanations of what had happened. The only thing Nanami picks up is that you’re alive. That’s more than enough for him to relax, nodding dumbly along to Yaga’s words.

The curse had been on the brink of death when Nanami collapsed. However, he had put up enough of a fight for nearby sorcerers to come to his aid and finish it off. There was no doubt about it — it was a special grade curse. Yaga apologises for the miscommunication and loss of Haibara’s life. Nanami doesn’t reply.

No amount of apologies could turn back time and bring Haibara back.

It takes him a few more days before Nanami’s able to hobble around the school, aided by crutches. Gojo pokes fun at how he seems like a grandpa but even his jokes don’t bear the mean edge they usually do. Getou leaves a can of vending machine coffee by his bedside table and Shouko brings him some wildflowers. Nanami leaves the plush cat Yaga had made for him untouched.

Nanami struggles against the nightmares that plague him. In one Haibara cradles his decapitated head in his own arms, asking Nanami why he hadn’t saved his life; in another you die, guts spilling onto the streets with your eyes bulging from your skull. Nanami wakes up in cold sweat. He calms his breathing alone and doesn’t sleep a single wink.

It’s a rainy day when Shouko lets him enter the morgue. Haibara’s body is laid in a shroud of white, his head positioned to appear attached. Had he ever been so pale? Nanami’s fingers grip his crutches, gritting his teeth.

How long his eyelashes had been! A small scar runs down his left temple (“After my sister shoved me in the playground!” Haibara had chirped), and his bangs remain as perfectly cut as they had been when he died. Nanami half expects him to sit up, to grin and laugh at his twisted face.

“Why’re you so stiff, Nanami? It’s just a joke!” 

Justajokejustajokejustajoke.

A chasm opens up in Nanami’s stomach. His crutches clatter to the floor as he races out of the morgue, stumbling when pain shoots up his right leg. He retches dryly and tears pool in his eyes. Shouko silently covers Haibara and closes the door, Nanami’s tears falling alongside the pouring rain.

That night in his dreams, Haibara slices Nanami’s head off. He wakes up with his heart racing and tears slipping down his cheeks.

Nanami visits you the next day. He had been reluctant to do so — what if you blamed him for everything, for Haibara’s death and your injuries? He wouldn’t be able to bear it, to be hated by you. His hand hovers over your dorm doorknob, hesitating. Nanami takes a deep breath as he swallows his anxiety and opens the door.

It’s as if nothing had ever happened.

You sit on your bed, neatly tucked under the covers with a book sitting on your lap. Warm sunshine pours through the open windows and the penguin plush Nanami had won for you at a festival still sits by your desk. You look up when he walks in.

Nanami calls out your name. You stare at him.

“Sorry, but… Who are you?” you ask quietly, a sense of confusion lacing your words.

He stops by the door and Nanami’s heart sinks to his feet.

“I’m Kento. Nanami Kento,” he repeats, words tasting like ash in his mouth.

Checkered curtains flutter in the wind and the pages of your book butterfly open to an unread chapter. You keep your eyes focused on Nanami, eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion.

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” you reply.

☆*: .｡.

A toxic mix of trauma and a severe head injury had caused your amnesia. Nanami lays in bed at night, staring up at the ceiling. If only he hadn’t let his emotions overtake him, if only he had been there a minute earlier, if only if only if only. Regret dulls his sense of taste and emotions. He no longer takes joy in eating anything (even those croissants Getou had bought while out on a mission), nor does he even crack a smile at Gojo’s antics.

Nanami returns to training once he is physically well again. He becomes the only first-year to attend Yaga’s classes, sparring practice conducted with the second years. He goes out on missions alone and learns to provide both defense and offense for himself. Nanami trains, he exercises curses, he returns to school. He repeats this same cycle mindlessly over and over again. 

Time heals, they say. Nanami wonders how much time it must take for him to let go of everything.

Nanami learns to hide his disappointment. His face becomes a strong facade for whatever his weak heart truly feels. The quiet sigh he lets out when no one’s around, the stretching of his neck after yet another fruitless day of training — Nanami decides that he’ll leave the world of sorcery once he’s graduated.

Seasons change and Nanami becomes a second year, then a third year. Getou falls away. The seniors graduate and new freshmen enter the school. Nanami keeps these things in the back of his mind as he raises his sword for a countless time, striking the training doll with ease.

You work with Shouko in the infirmary, occasionally helping out with office work. The school had deemed it better to keep you under their care than to release you outside. Like a rehabilitated animal, Nanami thinks.

You still remember no memories of him. Nanami brings you sweets and souvenirs from his missions, letting you trace your fingers over the fancy packaging with a sparkle in your eye. At this, Nanami swallows back his confession of love once more. He can’t bear to burden you with his feelings.

You form new impressions of him. Nanami turns into the stone-faced and adorable boy who treats you like fine China, always sticking his hands out awkwardly when he tries to give you something. The tips of his ears burn red when he lies — especially when you ask him, “Nanami, did you buy this for me?” and he shakes his head furiously.

You think he’s kind. He comforts you when you cry over lost memories, unable to remember the faces in photographs that had once been so familiar. The first thing Nanami does after returning from a mission is to rush to you. Were you okay? Did you have your meals? One time, he came over without getting his injuries checked and collapsed by your feet. You scolded him after that, tenderly dressing his wounds.

“Nanami!” you said crossly, a pout on your face.

He tries to forget how he had asked you to stop calling him ‘Ken-chan’. He ducks his head, hissing when you douse his skin in antiseptic.

Some things don’t change, though. You still keep your pencil box immaculately neat — the tips of your stationery always pointing to the right side. Though you don’t have any more movie ticket stubs, you carefully clip the pictures of your childhood Nanami had given to you together and keep them under your pillow. 

One day, you munch on a yummy biscuit Nanami brought back for you. He sits on the floor and polishes his sword, peering at it from every angle to make sure it’s evenly oiled.

“Nanami?” 

He hums.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like you’re from an emo boy band? Your hair matches it.” 

Your shy laugh rings out in the room as bile rises in Nanami’s throat. He sheathes his sword and lays it on the ground.  

“Yes, they have.”

He struggles to smile, his gut twisting.

☆*: .｡.

On graduation day, no one else but Nanami receives his certificate with a flower corsage pinned to his chest. The room is empty save for him and Yaga, the chirping of spring birds breaking the silence.

“I’m glad to have been able to teach you, Nanami,” Yaga broods. “You’ve grown a lot.”

Nanami does not reply. He bows deeply and strides out of the main building. All of a sudden, the traditional architecture and nature that surround Jujutsu High seems stifling. His skin crawls with the urge to leave as soon as possible. 

“Nanamin!”

He jumps. Turning around, he finds you grinning happily with a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Congratulations on your graduation!” you chirp.

Nanami accepts the flowers awkwardly and rests them in the crook of his elbow, his other hand clutching his certificate. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of nearby trees and a wave of sakura petals descend from their branches like rain.

“Nanamin,” your voice grows softer. “Are you leaving forever?”

He swallows, then nods wordlessly.

“Will I ever see you again?”

“I wanna be with you forever, Ken-chan!” you wailed.

“Forever’s a long time,” Nanami replied.  

He handed you his yellow cotton handkerchief, face wrinkling when you honked your nose into it. Gross. His neck hurt from sticking it out of the car window. He can hear his father tapping a finger onto the wheel impatiently, his mother silent as she stares out the front.

“B-but!” 

Your bottom lip quivered and Nanami let out a sigh.

“Fine, fine. I’ll be with you, okay?”

“Really, Ken-chan? Forever?”

“Yeah, really. Forever.”

You grinned in the waning sunlight as your mother tugged you away.

“I’ll never forget you, Ken-chan!” you shouted.

The car window rolled up and he watched you disappear into the horizon, turning as tiny as an ant.  

Nanami swallows his heart into the pit of his stomach.

“Probably.” 

“That’s not a definitive answer, Nanamin.”

“What do you want me to tell you, then?”

There’s a slight tremble in his voice. The plastic wrapping of the flowers crinkle under his grip and waves of emotions rush over him; the biggest out of all of them regret. He struggles to breathe underwater, keeping his eyes squeezed shut and nose plugged up. A sakura petal lands on his shoulder. He doesn’t bother brushing it away. 

“Say,” you whisper, taking a step to close the distance between Nanami and you.

He gulps as you place a hand upon his chest. He can feel the heat of your skin through his uniform and Nanami’s too dumbstruck to respond.

“Why don’t you give me your second button?”

Your eyes meet his. A smile toys with the corners of his lips and suddenly Nanami blurts out a nervous “Okay.”. His mind flickers back to Haibara momentarily; how you had appeared to like him so much back then. But he chooses to shove those memories into the back of his mind once more as you produce a small pair of scissors and snip the thread.

“You always take care of me, Nanamin. It was natural of me to fall in love with you,” you breathe, cradling the swirl patterned button in your hands.

A gust of cool air slips into his unbuttoned shirt and Nanami’s breath hitches.  

“Do you like me too?”

Your question is innocent. With the way you peer up at him, there’s no way that Nanami can lie. Your glittery eyes were the same ones he had fallen in love with all those years ago. He wonders if he still loves you in the same way as he did then; as faultless and innocent it had been. His heart sits on the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah, I do.”

Your eyes crinkle at the edges as you smile, an evident sigh of relief escaping your lips. You slip the button into your pocket before tugging Nanami even closer towards you. He yelps as your chest presses against his and the tips of his ears turn red.

You plant your lips by the side of his.

[liz-allyn]

shudder; part 2/6 [agent mobius x gn!reader]

Mobius heads back to his apartment to find you in the midst of a nightmare.

Part 1

Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 930

Tags/warnings: Referenced canon-typical violence. Brief reference to past child abuse, strong language. Hurt/comfort; soft!mobius; protective!mobius; power dynamic; reader has a morally questionable background

II.

The next time he noticed the shudder, it was right after you took a swing at him. He barely dodged your feral punch as he reached out to grasp your arms.

“Easy, easy!” you could hear his voice say, but you couldn’t tell where you were. “Hey, easy! I gotcha. You’re okay.”

You quit thrashing, but your body trembled and you were gasping for air.

It was the damn drowning nightmare again, a relic from a repressed memory of your mother trying to drown you in a bathtub when you were little.

You blinked and observed your surroundings, realizing you weren’t lost at sea. You were at TVA headquarters, in Mobius’ modest studio apartment. You were afloat in the darkness sitting up on his standard-issue mattress. You nearly tore the sheets apart during the nightmare.

As he tended to you, he at the edge of his bed, still wearing his work tie. It was late - or early? - but he was just returning to his apartment from an all-nighter of paperwork when he found you screaming in his - or what used to be his - bed.

It was a contentious agreement - you taking his bed while he slept uncomfortably in the sitting area on a small leather couch. But he had vouched for you as a TVA asset, therefore you were his responsibility. Ravonna pointed that out when he’d petitioned on your behalf for proper sleeping quarters.

For weeks prior, you had demonstrated trustworthiness under his leadership, but some Minutemen still held a grudge with what you did to their partners. After you had been jumped and beaten while in your “temporary” holding cell, Mobius had had enough. (You we’re outnumbered, for the record, and you only lost because you didn’t fight back. Whatever. Not your first rodeo. B-15 pressed you for names, but you stubbornly stayed silent. You were many things, but you weren’t a snitch.)

But in this moment in the dark of his apartment, you were weak, crumbling in the older man’s arms. You hated it. Wet streaks of tears rolled down your cheeks. Beads of sweat dripped down your skin, binding your cotton tank to your back. Pathetic.

“It’s okay,” Mobius repeated placatingly. His large hands were fixed to your shoulders, holding you up above the dark water of your fears. Those warm brown eyes held steady on you. You found yourself searching for them in the dark.

“You’re safe,” he whispered. “I gotcha. It’s okay.”

You tried to slow your heart rate as more tears threatened to gush from your eyes. He was staring again, you noted, intently studying your features. He watched you with the familiar look of sincerity and wonder he gave you each time you saved the day and stopped the bad guy. It wasn’t a look you were used to. It made you feel… special, even if you were supposedly a mistake.

But there was something else in his eyes. Gentle. Mourning. Pity.

He knew.

You clenched your jaw and tore away your gaze. How did he find out? Were you talking in your sleep? Not only were you crying like a bitch but you were babbling all of your traumatic baggage for the world to hear. Fuck. Now he knew. Now they could use it to their advantage. Just one more page out of your horror story that they could use to manipulate you.

Your heart was racing again, but this time you were enraged.

Fuck this fucking time-tax collector and his smug smile.

He loved reading you, didn’t he? Like a book.

He was invading you with that look. The way he gaped at you, like the words were printed on your skin. Now you were sitting there in front of him - open wide, falling apart at the spine.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered.

Why was he whispering? It’s not like they were in a play? Did he think this was some kind of movie?

Your breath hitched as the realization hit you.

The film. Your life saga and all your sins preserved in celluloid. He showed you brief glimpses of it in the beginning of your relationship, shortly after he talked you down from certain deletion after you had managed to wrap your chains around his neck in an intense standoff with six angry Minutemen.

He was calm. Compassionate. He treated you like a human, even as you were learning that you were a pawn. That every scar, every pang, every bruise, every atrocity that had been done to you and by you were all part of The Plan™. And the one time you detoured away from your dark path, you in fact, had made a mistake.

He showed you the highlights of the film, but you got the picture. However, at the time you didn’t quite understand that he’d seen it all. Every graphic detail. This unassuming, mild-mannered, steely-eyed man knew you more than anyone ever had. Maybe even more than you knew yourself.

Here he was now, eyes fixed on you, patiently waiting. Nothing other than your cooperation in hunting variants had been asked for or expected. And if he was going to force you to comply by waterboarding you, or trapping you in a time theater where you could relieve your greatest (horror) hits, why hadn’t he done that already?

He gently spoke, releasing you, “Can I get you anything—?”

“I’m fine,” you bit off, steeling your soul.

He paused and considered you. Watched you. His gaze softened with a gentle nod. “Okay.” He stood from the bed without another word and left you alone.

Where you wanted to be.

Part 3

A/N: Like this story? Reblog!

[chil2de]

Hi!! if possible can i please request yuuta having a girlfriend that’s his childhood friend? (So like instead of rika it’s y/n and she doesn’t die) that loves to dote on him cause that boy needs some love. Thank you!! <3

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE THIS MADE ME SO SOFT!!!!! ohmygod!!!! growing up with yuuta would be THE best onshdhfsh thank you sososos much anon this was such a pleasure to write! i don’t know why but the “and she doesn’t die” had me screaming LMFAOOOO

enjoy! no warnings, just old fashioned cute fluff and heart wrenching moments! thank you for giving me the opportunity to write for the best boy mwaaah you deserve eternal happiness! hope no insects bite you during these warm months <3

“okkotsu!” you cried out, feminine and shrill voice ringing in the air. the cicadas chirped melodiously, calling out their delightful songs in the spring air.

the young boy staggered around, losing his balance from spinning too fast. his fragile hands reached out, pulling in small grabby motions towards your innocent and joyous face.

you were always so optimistic, even when you were younger. yuuta could only huff and wail as his caretaker hauled him away from the playground, gesturing it was time for him to come home. thick and messy tears spilled out the corners of his eyes which hadn’t yet endured countless sleep devoid nights.

he was so far away, but that was okay because you knew you’d see him the very next day.

“okkotsu! promise to play with me again tomorrow!” you cupped your hands, exclaiming as much as your little lungs could endure. yuuta could see the tears heavy in your gaze, but even then, you prevailed. you grinned, all for him.

ever since the very start. till ‘death do us apart.

-

“okkotsu! come oooon, don’t cry, okay? (y/n)’s got your back! see, see?! look! they don’t bite!” you braved a smirk on your features, beckoning the shy and introverted young man over. his face looked uncertain and his lips wobbled as though he could crack at any moment. he took a few cautious steps, maintaining his distance between you and the furry animal on the floor.

“r-really? it won’t bite?” he coughed, reaching his unstable fingertips out.

“eh?! that’s the first time you’ve spoken to me! your voice is so nice! it’s so cool! hey! can i hear it again? pleaaaase? i know you’re shy but i’d really like to hear it! hey, okkotsu, say my name? pretty please?”

“um- i, uh.. it’s okay.. you can call me yuuta.”

-

“yuuta! you’re going to be late for your first day of junior high! i totally told you to wake up on time too!” you stood with your hands rested firmly on your hips, face stern and tone impatient.

“sorry! sorry- it’s um, my hair. i don’t know how to style it.” he admitted, albeit sheepishly by trailing the last few words off into a murmur. you only gave him a sigh before kneeling down behind him, propping yourself up to take a look at his hair in the reflection of the mirror.

“how on earth are you so tall already? we eat the same food, you know. slouch over a little.” you pinched his cheeks before glossing over his hair.

when you ran your fingertips through his hair, you felt butterflies and anxiety rock your stomach.

that’s never been there before.

you’ve touched yuuta countless times, whether that was accidentally hitting him, holding his hand to cross the street…

so why was it different?

you could feel yuuta’s body tense up and run rigid underneath your touch.

that definitely wasn’t there before.

“relax. it’s me.” you cooed quietly, roughing up his hair into different styles.

“like this? looks like you just woke up, sorta, but i think it’s cute.”

yuuta’s heart rate skyrocketed through the roof and his breath hitched.

“cute?” he reiterated, chewing out the phrase like he’d never heard it before in his life.

“hm? yeah-“

you caught his gaze in the mirror, eyes half lidded and attention averted. the tips of his ears were tainted a deep red with small flicks of blush painting his cheeks.

“eh?! nononono- not like that i’m- i just think it suits you, you know? oh, crap, would you look at the time? okay we gotta go and leave!” you clambered out of his bedroom, thudding the door shut behind you.

yuuta only gawked at you with bewilderment, lips slightly parted and fingertips outstretched in his failed attempt to stop you.

he turned to himself in the mirror, studying his features before running one hand through his jet black locks.

“cute, huh?” he muttered, avoiding his own judgemental gaze.

-

the bittersweet part about growing up with a childhood friend is change.

for all the time that you’d spent with yuuta, you didn’t realise that your relationship with him was something to not take for granted.

especially with those around you who would kill for what you two have.

you’d always get mundane questions from high school girls who thought they could have a shot with him, “what’s his type?” “do you think he likes me?”

meanwhile you only played along with their charades, laughing inwardly when he was actually extremely introverted.

“so? what’s the deal with you and okkotsu-san? you guys dating?”

“no. we’re just friends.”

“seriously? you guys are always glued at the hip. you know he has a picture of you in his locker, right?”

“yeah? so do i. it doesn’t mean anything.”

“it’s kind of a shame, he’s such a nice young man.. gone to waste like that..”

“what’s gone to waste?” yuuta inquired with an indifferent tone, plopping down beside you with his bento box. the classmate sat opposite you only gave him a phony cheerful temperament, twirling her index finger around her hair.

“oh! okkotsu-senpai! we were just talking about you! how was your da-“

“please leave.”

you could only gape at him in your peripherals, sputtering on your sandwich as you watched the life drain from your classmate at his monotony. yuuta didn’t spare you or the girl a glance as he worked to unpack his lunch, hell the guy even murmured a small itadakimasu as if nothing happened.

“wh- okkotsu senpai?”

“listen.” he let out a deep sigh before proceeding.

“whatever shot you thought you had with me? it’s gone out the window. don’t disrespect (y/n) in front of me like that again.”

“you’re making us uncomfortable, so get up and go.” he motioned with his chopsticks, giving her a dead gaze towards another table.

the girl scoffed, mouth hung wide open as she picked up her bag and stormed out of sight.

whilst your face was as blank as a stone, internally, you were only screaming in the depths of piping hot hell visible from the sun itself.

baby girl? that was when you noticed how fucking fine of a man yuuta grew up to be.

“that was seriously nerve wracking.. my stomach hurts so bad right now” yuuta coughed through a bite of his sandwich, refusing to meet your gaze.

you slapped his back, because, holy shit??? awe painted your face like you just witnessed your own child talking or walking for the first time.

“what the shit? yuuta? are you kidding?”

“oh, huh? did i overdo it or something?“

“no?! are you kidding? that was fucking awesome! i swear! this is why i love you-“

oh.

uh oh.

oh no.

yuuta let out a shrill squeak unbeknownst to any human being able to produce such a volume. it was a cross between a floorboard creaking, a mouse sniffing and him choking on his food. the poor boy had to excuse himself to the bathroom, hacking and sniffling in an ugly fit of coughs from the food that got caught in his windpipe.

your blood rushed to your head, veins lit ablaze, bones rattling as you could hear the chatter pound and drill into your skull, scoring you deep and down into your bones.

“did she just say she loves him?”

“i totally knew they were going out!”

“i can’t believe it…”

“do you think he’ll reject her?”

it replayed over, and over, and over. what a fucking fool you felt. did he even feel the same?

that’s why i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

a blob of black clouded your vision and you could hear the glass breaking.

yuuta sat himself back down, excusing himself.

you could hear nothing but the tune of his heartbeat. or was it yours? it sounded too heavy to belong in either of your bodies.

his voice came as a wobble because of his anxiety, but this was the one thing in his life he’d be absolutely certain of.

“that’s okay. i love you too.”

-

“yuuta? you okay? you’ve been spacing out for at least five minutes. something on your mind?” you lightly shake your boyfriend, grip reassuring but firm. it takes a couple of seconds for his gaze to gloss over as he returns back to reality.

“sorry. was just thinking about our childhood, that’s all.” his voice comes out deep and masculine. it doesn’t have that tremor as it used to before, like he’d break down at any minute.

you can say with absolute certainty as you stare up your entire 5’10 boyfriend that he’s matured well.

his hand snakes around to your waist, pulling you into him for comfort.

some ways better than others, you suppose.

“can we stay home today?” he hums, resting his chin on top of your head,

“same as ever, yuuta, aren’t you? it’s fine, i’ll tell nobara my period’s making me act up. she’ll understand-“

“hm? you’re not due for another week though, right?”

you crease your eyebrows as you type out an apology to nobara for cancelling plans, glancing up at yuuta curiously.

“how the heck do you know that?”

“i’m not supposed to? i’d always count your cycle so i wouldn’t irritate you on the wrong day. besides, don’t you think it was too convenient for you to always find snacks in your locker when it rolled around?”

“those snacks were you?! oh my god! i was trying to figure that out for forever!”

“i know. i remember you ranting to me about it.”

“you just sat there?! yuuta! you’re so cheeky sometimes, i swear!”

“only for you.” he chimes, peppering a soft kiss onto your head. you smile against him, though unfortunately pry out of his familiar and welcoming touch.

“i’m gonna step out for a second tho, ‘kay? i think that’s itadori at the door with my chocolate and painkillers” you snort, giving yuuta a bold wink as you put on your best act, keeling over and clutching at your abdomen as though you’re on death’s door.

“you’re awful.” yuuta chuckles, slumping down onto the sofa to hear the events unfold right in front of him.

you clear your throat and slouch your shoulders as you pry the apartment door open.

“(y/n)-senpai! i came as fast as i could and i brought you some of your favourite sna- oh, okkotsu-senpai! hello!”

“hi there.” he leans his head back, giving itadori a small wave.

“i won’t interrupt you guys so get well soon! and fast! cause i wanna hang out with you! bye!”

you cradle the necessities itadori brought whilst gleaming at yuuta with a wicked grin plastered on your face from ear to ear.

“you want anything?” you cock an eyebrow, showing him the arrangement of snacks.

it’s not the answer you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t unwelcome. it made you feel warm inside, like eating warm and soothing soup on a cold winter’s day. this, for you, was okkotsu yuuta at his best, stripped clean and vulnerable.

you’re the only one who he can relax around, act like the world is carefree. like he’s young again, prancing around in that dingy colourful playground he met you at.

“i want you to kiss me.”

[charliedawn]

Imagine Loki being jealous of Thor's popularity..until you tell him that he his your favorite Avenger ! (Childpov! Because I find it cute..)

When Thor and Loki land on Earth, they both feel disoriented by their sudden shift in surroundings. However, once they are a little less confused, Thor is submerged by fangirls that ask for autographs and photos. Loki rolls his eyes dramatically at his brother's wide smile and surrounded by Midgardian females. However, he is surprised to feel a slight tug on his sleeve and looks down to see a child with a pen and a notebook. He arks an eyebrow, but the girl doesn't seem scared and only raises her objects with stars in her eyes.

" Could you please sign this ?!"

Loki frowns in confusion and looks around, wondering if your parents would interfere or try to get you away from him, but no one comes..He then looks back down at you before crouching in front of you with a small smile.

" You must be mistaking, darling. I'm not an Avenger. If you're looking for my brother, he's right over there.."

He says while showing you the tall blond man with his finger. But the child cuts him off to scream, almost indignantly, at his reply.

"Of course you are ! You tried to save the planet, didn't you ?! You fought Thanos and saved the people of Asgard !"

He is about to deny, but reconsiders when he realizes that you are right..for the most part.

" Well..technically."

He says with a certain uncertainty in his voice. It is bad to lie to a child, but he isn't really lying..Just not adding any information on how he killed thousands of people in New York. He takes the objects and frowns, not really sure how to use the objects you handed him. You smile and show him by mimicking the gestures. He finally gets it and signs his name on the notebook with his neat handwriting. You take the notebook and squeal in utter happiness as you clutch the notebook against your heart while jumping up and down excitedly. He can't help but smile before Thor arrives and frowns at the odd scene. He thinks the girl wants an autograph and is about to take the notebook when Loki grabs his hand, glaring at him warningly.

" Don't you dare. You have your Midgardian fans. Let me have this."

Thor is surprised by his brother's demeanor, until the girl wraps her arms around his leg and screams.

" Thank you so much ! I'll keep it forever !"

Thor sees a smile draw on his brother's face as he gently ruffles your hair.

" No worries, little girl. What is your name ?"

" My name is Y/N !"

You answer with a large grin.

" And do you know who he is, Y/N ?"

Loki glares up at Thor for asking the question, but is overwhelmed with joy at your answer.

" Of course ! He's King Loki ! He's the coolest Avenger ever ! And he's got those superpowers ! Mom says he's a magician ! I love magicians !"

Loki feels his heart beat loudly in his chest and if he could cry, he would have. He takes you in his arms and carries you onward, not giving one last glance back at Thor. Thor is shocked, but doesn't dare contradict his brother's action, only following you after a moment.

" Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll go find your parents, alright ?"

A couple of hours later in the Avengers tower :

Loki shows you to all of the Avengers with a wide smile as you look at everything with glitter in your eyes. He is so proud and happy that none of the others dare tell him to put you down..

" Hum..Should we tell him that the child is supposed to go home at some point ?"

Clint asks while eyeing the both of you warily, but Nat only smiles as she had never seen Loki so happy..Ever.

" No. Let him have his fun for the day. Plus, I already asked her and phoned her parents. They agreed for her to stay with him for the day..As long as we stay with them as well."

Thor only smiles satisfactorily as he sees his brother carrying the small human around.

" How much is a child on Earth ?"

The whole team looks at him with wide eyes and Tony sighs exasperatedly before pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

"Oh no..Not again. When we thought it couldn't get any worse, even Thor is considering buying the kid.."

Thor, still staring at you both, doesn't think twice before saying nonchalantly.

"..Or kidnapping it."

This time, even Natasha is shocked and Thor only smiles at the whole team before adding.

" What ? You think we paid for Loki ? Can't you do that on Earth ?"

" Oh my God.."

Bruce exclaims, shocked and also horrified by the news. No wonder Loki hated him.. Steve sighs while looking at you and standing up to talk to Loki. The moment he announces that he has to take you back, nobody can tell who is the most heartbroken between the two of you. You hug Loki tightly and refuse to let him go. Finally, it's Loki that has to bring you back. Your parents witness your heartbroken goodbyes.

" Goodbye, king Loki. I always knew you weren't a villain.."

You hug him again and, to your surprise, Loki only stands up, makes a magical paper appear and goes to talk to your parents.

" Dear parents of Y/N, you may not know me that well, but I want your child to spend time with me. I think I just made a friend and I may not know anything about friendship, but what I know is that if anything happened to the small human, I would certainly destroy this world and take my own life. Please, accept to sign this contract that allows me to spend time with her, whenever you want..Just, please, allow me to see her again. She's my only fan, and I don't even know how that happened. So, I'm begging you, let me keep her for a day or two a week and I will be forever grateful."

Your parents, awestruck and impressed by the speech, look successively at you both multiple times before taking the paper. Their eyes widen at the money and from what they could see, the God was absolutely serious..

" We..We'll think about it ?"

You father answers awkwardly, not really sure of how to react. The God could easily crush him..Plus, that was one hell of a speech. Loki, satisfied with the answer, bows courteously before coming back to you and crouching in front of you with a smile.

" I'm sure we'll see each other soon."

You smile widely and give him one last hug before he gets back in the car.

2 weeks later :

You're adopted now, don't even try to fight it. You will be his best friend and he will take you wherever he goes as his personal emotional support and a way to never be humiliated again.

" See, brother ! I can be popular too !"

Thor rolls his eyes, the same way Loki did when he had fangirls around.

" Please ! Someone ! Take the child away!"

" On your left, Rogers!"

Tony yells, but Loki zigzags and succeeds in escaping before anyone could grab you. Loki runs with you in his arms, his helmet on your head.

" You'll never catch us ! Nyeheheehee !"

You say in your best evil laugh and the Avengers spend the rest of the day chasing you..The End.

I'm not gonna lie. I did this for fun. I know it isn't Shakespeare, but I still love it. 😂