#one tiny detail that made me probably a little too emotional

[yourockthebeatofmyheart]

Nope (2022), dir. Jordan Peele

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

Yandere Class 1-A X Reader — { PART 2 }: We’ve Got Company~

(Description: Titles are hard, okay? Please don’t shame me for how cheesy it is because I know it's corny LOL. But I make up for it with decent writing! I POPPED OFF with some of these parts.

We all know this by now, but it’s safe to say (Y/N) is too trusting of EVERYONE. The amount of people I keep making them blindly and wholly give their faith to is…concerning. I know you guys probably want them to fight back more, but it’s hard when I haven’t labeled them with a specified Quirk. I wanted to leave it up to you guys to give them the attributes they have in your minds without spoon-feeding you every single choice (Y/N) makes. Sooooo, it suffers a little bit with the repetitiveness of this constant back and forth getting pulled every which way. It’s also difficult when there are so many characters to cover.

I am not complaining about it though! I am extremely proud of this story and am very happy with the outcome. I just hope you guys love it as much as I do. Plusss, it’s kinda nice to imagine being a princess stolen away at every opportunity by handsome/gorgeous suitors teehee!)

Fanfiction Lingo

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(N/N) - Nickname

~

“Normal speech.”

‘Inner thoughts.’

~

Original Concept - [Mommabean’s OG Story] → Here

Part I - [My first addition] → Here

Part II → You’re here!

~

Reader Gender: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Style of Story: Sequel Oneshot // This story is a continuation of Momma’s Yandere Class 1-A Purge short story. I have written a previous part to this, so please check it out to understand what is happening!; Yandere Purge! If you don’t know what that is, go take a look at @yanderemommabean’s original works of it on her page, all is explained there; Many of MHA’s adults are included here, but I don’t want to spoil who exactly is in the story, so that is all you get so far~!

Word Count: 24K

WARNING(s): Swearing; physical fighting and threats (threats aren’t made at (Y/N), nor are they hurt beyond bruising); there is a brief mention of rape and sexual assault—it is not gone into heavily or in detail, but you need to know it is there; mental and emotional manipulation to the reader; bending of MHA’s storyline and the events currently happening (mainly regarding the setting, timeline, and people’s aliveness LMAO) to fit (Y/N) into the story but bear with me; some unrealistic interactions are going to happen in this fic because to get everyone together in a setting like this is near impossible; All of Class 1-A’s students are aged up to third years & everyone is 18 or older // I AM WRITING THEM AS IF THEY ARE IN CLASS 3-A NOW FYI!

[PLEASE NOTE: I DO NOT SUPPORT YANDERE TENDENCIES IN REAL LIFE!!! Do not confuse my writing this subject as encouraging it, there is a difference between reading/writing yandere stories V.S real-life situations. Please, if someone in your life is behaving like a character(s) in this story (i.e. obsessive, possessive, controlling, abusive, psychotic, sociopathic, LIKE A WACKADOO, etc.) get immediate help! That behavior in the real world is not romantic, sweet, or NORMAL! Stay aware, stay safe.]

~

Unable to leave without one final gloat, Shinsou turns back to smirk at the students, “All of you were wrong earlier, by the way. It’s me, dumbasses.”

Suddenly, a cocky voice chuckles from behind the mind-controlling boy, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that, kid~...”

As reluctant as Shinsou is to say this, a tiny shiver runs down his back. Coming from the busted-up entrance of the gymnasium, Aizawa’s voice rings out like a bell. Your current threat swivels around to face the intruder. Even though his recognizable voice is a dead giveaway, seeing him actually standing there in the rubble draws a sigh of relief out of you. You don’t know whether to cry, smile, or scream for his help; either way, it’s just a nice change of pace to see his usual disheveled appearance and relaxed stature. At least something has remained consistent on this hellish evening.

Though, something sensible clicks in your mind. Thinking back on all the strong-willed friends you lost in the fight against this disease, you realize there’s a strong chance that even your own teacher has fallen victim to its siren call. As much as you’d like to go running into his comforting embrace and wail about how horribly your classmates have been treating you the past few hours, you bite your tongue and stay complacent in Hitoshi’s arms. Not like you could voice many of your concerns with the makeshift gag still sat across your mouth.

“Damn,” Shinsou mutters to himself before perking up to meet his instructor's eye with a devious glint in his eye, “Mr. Aizawa. Good to see—,” Before the boy could finish his greeting, the stoic hero held up his hand, his palm facing Shinsou.

“Save the pleasantries. You’d think after all these years of one-on-one training you’d realize I can read you like an open book. Your expressions continue to give your intentions away too easily. So cut the crap.” Shinsou's false smile drops quicker than it appeared. Aizawa leisurely waltzes into the room, closing in on the both of you.

Aizawa continues his analysis with a sigh, “And I wouldn’t try that little gimmick with me. I’m not like my students over there,” he vaguely points behind the two of you to the group.

“I’m your mentor. All the tricks you have up your sleeve are hardly even interesting choices to me anymore. I should know, I taught them all to you, after all.” He chuckled to himself.

“Did you come here just to nag my ear off about how you’re so much better than me, or because you have something actually important to say? ‘Cause, if it's the former, I can’t stay and chat. I’ve got some pretty precious cargo in my hands at the moment.” Shinsou brags, hoisting you further up into his arms, forcing a garbled complaint from you.

“Watch your tone, brat.” Aizawa glares at the snarky comeback his student possessed. Hm. So, Hitoshi thinks he’s hot shit because he won against a handful of decently strong opponents? Well, that’s just fine. He’s used to putting cocky bastards in their place.

“I’ve come to offer you a deal of sorts. We can either speak about it rationally, or,” he shines a leering grin, “I can use my quirk on you, and you can say goodbye to the hold you have over your classmates right now. How do you think you’d fare against 19 pissed-off pro heroes?” This time, you can actually feel Shinsou shutter at the sinister tone your teacher leans into. His reaction makes sense. The idea of irrational, infected, superhuman, edgy teens hunting you down fighting isn’t a pleasant one. Not just one of them either, a whole damn fleet of them. You’d be shaking in your boots too.

“Since I’m nice, I’ll let you decide,” Aizawa has a bored look on his face again as he runs a hand through the inky mop of hair atop his head. A few seconds lurch by before Shinsou caves.

“Fine, old-timer. I’ll hear you out.” Shinsou reluctantly agrees. He knows he could take on a few of them at once in combat, but as soon as the heavy hitters join the fight—it’ll be over. He’d much rather join forces with his instructor than be betrayed by the greedy moochers residing in his class. Shinsou knows that if some of them had the chance, they’d steal you with no hesitation or regret. He’ll just have to sit and see what the idea Aizawa wants to propose is.

The two of them walk towards each other. A meeting held face-to-face in the middle of the gymnasium.

“I should honestly reprimand you guys for how shittily you’ve treated (L/N) this evening. It’s absurd how ragged you’ve been running them. Absolutely unacceptable. Maybe I should even expel the lot of you after the Purge ends.” Wait, Aizawa could see you too? What, is your peril being broadcasted on live television for the world to see or something?!

“Hey, don’t lump me with those barbarians,” Shinsou pulled back in a look of grievance, “I waited until everything was calm to strike. They were the ones who made (Y/N) run around like a headless chicken.” He tossed his head back to the hypnotized horde.

“Hm. We’ll discuss it as a class later.” Aizawa coughs into his fist.

“Fine. Now, what’s this deal you’ve thought up?” Shinsou prompts the conversation.

“Right. It’s about—,” Aizawa is interrupted by his cautious student.

“(Y/N). Am I right?” Shinsou jumps to the conclusion rather abruptly.

Aizawa glares, “Don’t interrupt someone while they’re talking, Shinsou. It’s rude.”

“But you did that to me not ev—,”

“Do as I say, not as I do,” Aizawa purposefully cuts him off, “And yes. It’s about them.”

“Hmph,” Shinsou narrows his eyes at the mention of you, “what do you want with them?”

“Not quite the right question. Change that to more like what can we do for them,” Aizawa twists the words to better fit his narrative.

Intrigued, Hitoshi takes the bait, “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is I don’t want to outright take them from you,” he shifts his weight to the other foot, “I want to make a deal to share them with you.”

Shouta continues, “Aoyama and his group had a good idea teaming up with Izuku’s crew. Working together, especially when the stronger piers can aid the weaker links, is a much more productive way of going about things. There’s safety in numbers.” Your body freezes up at his words. You connect the dots that he heard, or possibly even saw that whole ordeal. How? Where was he viewing from? Did he watch on a security camera? It’s a likely theory, the school is littered with them. You thought Denki killed the power earlier with his quirk. Or, with a more chilling idea, was he actually there? Physically in the vicinity? How was he nearby, could hear and see the whole event, and you didn’t notice him? Why didn’t he help you? Or, at least, intervene? Your mind is muddled with questions, but the two press on with their conversation.

“Sharing, huh? Thought you liked working alone.” Shinsou prodded, skeptical of the plan.

“Some missions call for an extra set of hands.” Aizawa cooly replied.

“I’m not sure. Not too big on the idea of letting go of them.” Shinsou pulled your bundled-up form closer to his chest. It’s like he’s a little kid—red in the face because of frustration, fighting to keep his stuffie all to himself as an adult asks him to share it with the other kids.

“I’m not asking you to fully let go of them, kid. Just enough so I can take care of them too. They’re a bit of a handful, as I’m sure you’ve no doubt figured out by now,” you whip your head to scowl at him and heatedly shout muffled curses at him, “Heh. My bad, kitten, but it’s true. The trouble your presence kicks up is a lot to handle, even for a pro.” You feel your face heat up in embarrassment at his words. Not that it wasn’t obvious before, but it’s safe to say he is infected as well.

“Plus, what will you do when you can’t control the rest of the students? You and I both know that your quirk doesn’t last forever, and your control is slowly dwindling away, even as we speak. I could help you fend them off, if it comes to it.” Shouta observed. He has a natural way of being extremely persuasive, doesn’t he?

Shinsou isn’t exactly thrilled to give you up, he’d much rather stake his claim on you by himself. His company should be more than enough to fill your time! He doesn’t want time with you to be shared with others he doesn’t approve of. Though…Aizawa isn’t exactly untrustworthy. Hitoshi definitely trusts him more than someone as hazardous as Bakugo, or as miserable to be around as Monoma. He’s a great teacher, even though he’s kind of a hardass. Someone he looks up to. Maybe they could give it a shot? After all, if it doesn’t work out, there’s still plenty of Purge time left for him to find somewhere else to hide and drag you off to when Aizawa isn’t looking.

“Okay. We’ll give your idea a go.” Shinsou begrudgingly complied.

“Good choice, kid.” Aizawa’s lips twitch upward into a minuscule grin. Yet again, your own fate is taken away from you as the two of them close in, grasp hands, and shake to signify the agreement.

“Ooohhh~! What a touching truce, cuties~,” a sugary-sweet voice curls around the boys’ conversation like a hazy morning fog.

“Huh—!” Shinsou isn’t fast enough to react to the intruder as he feels all his senses numb. A dreadfully sweet smell, the same kind of sugary tang that was laced throughout the woman’s voice, invades his nose. It should be disgusting, it should make him sick to his stomach, but the candied scent is nothing short of divine. It’s like nothing he's ever smelled before. It honestly makes him want to inhale more. Which is an action he subconsciously commits, sealing his fate. Shinsou’s legs grow wobbly as he starts to lose feeling all over his body. As unpleasant as he wants it to feel, as he begs it to feel, all he can recognize is a cozy warmth clouding his better judgment. Through the mental and physical struggle, he remembers you’re still sitting prettily in his swiftly weakening arms. He panics, afraid he’s going to, or that he has already dropped you. He glances down.

Well…you used to be there. You’re not anymore.

Shinsou groans, crashing to his knees. He scans the surrounding floor, looking for any trace of you, but you’re nowhere to be found. Good news is he didn’t drop you like an idiot. Bad news is someone else has their disgusting hands all over you. That thought makes him want to pick off his own flesh cell by cell, but there’s nothing he can do except lay on the ground and reluctantly drift in and out of consciousness.

“Too bad you’re not as lovely as our sweetheart here. Otherwise, you’d be my plaything too~,” the woman giggles, “But, oh well. Pleasant dream, honey~,” she coos at the purple-haired boy. You’re beyond floored at how quickly Shinsou was subdued, considering the quick work he made of the other students. Curious as ever, you shot your head back and forth to identify who stole the show this time.

The owner of the saccharine voice turned out to be none other than Midnight, your art history and overly-sexual pro hero mentor. She giggles to herself, watching her prey twitch and squirm in retaliation against her quirk on the floor, “While struggling normally is my favorite part of the foreplay, I wouldn’t advise it this time, dear~. Somnambulist isn’t easy to win against. It’s a much more potent sleep agent than your little quirk could ever dream of being.”

“Love that energy, Midnight! Smooth work,” a boisterous voice slices through your eardrums. You cringe at the volume, recognizing that borderline shriek. The person who is now capturing your body is Present Mic! What the hell are all three of your teachers doing here?! Shouldn’t they be like normal people and hide from the Purge?

As if reading your mind, Aizawa coughs to grab his coworkers’ attention, “That was completely unnecessary of you two. A little excessive too. I told you both I could handle the situation on my own. What’re you doing here?”

“Jeez! So cold!” Mic’s voice danced up and down in pitch, “Don’t be so frosty with us, Eraser! We just wanted to help!”

“Yes,” Midnight purred, the click click of her skyscraper-length stilettos stabbing the shellacked ground echoed across the rubble-covered floor, “you think us so shallow! You act as if we thought you couldn’t take care of this, dear. All we believed was it’s nice to have some support on the field, yes~?”

Aizawa, always as sharp as a knife, caught onto their plan effortlessly, “You two just couldn’t wait to get your grubby hands on them, could you?” The two opposing teachers choked on the air in their lungs as he saw through their lies. They fumbled the next few words that streamed out of their mouths, trying desperately through the stutters to justify their cause and deter his wit.

“I see. Hmm…whatever. Either way, you two never fail to overdo it,” Aizawa grumbles to himself, his chin sinking further into the comfort of his scarf, “I guess I’ll need some assistance dealing with the rest of my students over there. They won’t remain hypnotized for much longer now that Shinsou’s down—I’d rather not have to start a physical fight when there’s no need.”

“Oooh~,” Midnight purred, slinking over to the slowly reawakening crowd, “leave this to me, loves~!” The woman proceeded to unleash another plum of her drunkening quirk right as the class snapped out of their haze. You watched as they fell one by one to the floor in sudden exhaustion. Even the strong-willed one couldn’t escape the fate of her noxious gas, dropping limply to the floor in a dreamless slumber.

“Aww, they’re so sweet when they’re not getting in our way.” Mic snickered.

“Mic. Watch it,” Aizawa’s laid-back indifference swiftly shifted into his scary steely gaze as he warned his rambunctious coworker to stop his prattling.

“Whaaaat~??? You gotta admit, your hooligans sure made our night a lot harder!” Hizashi pouted in frustration.

‘When am I gonna catch a break from these…these…wait. What…the…,’ your thoughts slowly lose their path in your head, your mind-numbing and slipping away from coherent ideas. Your limbs feel like the thickest cement in the world when you try to move them. It’s too tough, too much work—and sleeping sounds like a fantastic idea. You’re just so tired. You start to heave for oxygen as if your lungs can never get enough air inside of them. You’re trying so hard to stay awake because you know in the back of your brain as delicious as stopping your fighting to rest sounds, something doesn’t feel right. You can’t remember why. Eventually, it becomes too difficult to keep your head up on your own, so you rest it against Mic’s open shoulder.

Hizashi immediately stops bickering against the stoic man in front of him as he feels your head plop onto his shoulder. Now that his attention is drawn back to you, he realizes you weren’t squirming around as much as he’d expected you to. He knows even past the lingering virus flooding his veins you wouldn’t give in to their advances so easily—as nice as that would have been—so he devotes all his attention to your slumped frame.

“Hey, you alright, doll?” he cranes his head down to catch your unfocused eyes. He jostles the shoulder you were resting on a bit, trying to reel you back from wherever your mind had floated off to, and that seemed to help a little. You tried to talk, but the gag prevented any words from coming out. Catching the barrier, he beckoned his partner in crime over with a quick tilt of his head and a quiet, “Help me get this thing off their mouth, Shouta.”

Without hesitation, your concerned homeroom teacher stepped over and peeled off the tape as gently as he could. Your mouth now freed, you let out an unconscious whine of relief, showing a small bit of happiness at having some bit of freedom back.

“What did you say, sweets?” Mic pressed yet again.

“Mmhn…I…uhm…mmm…nnh,” you mindlessly babbled in a soft voice.

“Come on, (Y/N). How do you feel right now?” Aizawa coaxed, his worry over you hiking higher at your unresponsiveness.

“Hmmm…just…tired…I think…mnnn,” Your eyes couldn’t stay open. They opted to flutter close every time no matter how much Mic shimmed around in an attempt to keep you conscious.

“Tired. Hizashi—Midnight’s quirk.” Aizawa said as he caught Hizashi��s fear-filled gaze. Both of their anxiety floated back down at the deduction. You must’ve breathed in too much of the secondhand smoke of the pro hero’s quirk. After all, it is quite potent against those who haven’t experienced it much before. Mic’s jostling changed into more of a rocking motion, trying to lull you further into that blissful rest.

“Ohhhh. Honeycakes! That’s okay—it’s perfectly fine if you need some rest. It’s been a tough day for our snuggle bunny,” he uttered, affectionately nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.

“I heard you say my name, Eraser. What’s…oh!” Midnight stopped her sentence when her eyes fell on you. Then, all she could do was squeal at the sight of your sleepy state. She shoved Aizawa out of the way, bent down to your level, and squeezed herself as close to you as she could. She was giggling and chirping in delight at how “adorable” and “absolutely, irresistibly, undeniably cute” you were.

“Awwwwhn~~~!!!” her voice curled up in pitch, her fingers smoothing your loose hairs behind your ear and stroking down your warm cheek, “You are just the sweetest lil’ thing~!! Mommy’s precious angel~. What’s happened, Zashi?” Midnight tilted her gaze up to the blond for an explanation.

He grinned, “Just breathed too much of your quirk in, s’all.”

Midnight loftily snickered, “I see. Glad we were here to take care of them!” In all honesty, she’s beyond pleased that out of any one of her coworkers, her quirk affected you the most. In a way, she saw that as she had the most influence on you—or, in other words, the most power over you. In her eyes, she saw it as you giving yourself to her. Willingly and unafraid. Midnight’s heart is cartwheeling and running laps because she sees this as you caring about her so much that you’d serve her in such a magnificent way. She could eat you up and still be searching for seconds. You’re just perfect for her in every way, shape, and form. Aizawa’s nagging drags her out of her less than innocent desires over you filling her head.

“You need to be more careful about how much of your quirk you release in the future, Midnight.” Aizawa scolds, but scorn is practically nonexistent in his voice. It’s hard to be angry at the effects you’ve been put under when the outcome makes you look so helplessly cute. He’d never admit it, but he’s envious of her quirk, when it can turn you so easily into this version of yourself. The dilated, doe-eyed look your eyes hold as they drift up to see him makes the words die a little in his throat. Perhaps the lecture he was going to give her can wait a little.

“Ahh, I will, Eraserhead. But first, we should head off for that safe spot we arranged with the others.” Midnight commented towards the men while still keening over your dopey state.

“W…Wait,” you grumbled out in a meek voice, “noo…no. I d-don’t…,” your words fell off into babbling mumbles again. It was torture to try and evade her quirk’s effects like this, but you were steadfast in wanting to fight. To flee their unwanted embrace and be alone. But all they did was coo at your brave efforts. Oh, they knew just the perfect things to say to make you feel like you were a mere baby to them. How inadvertently insulting.

“Ssh shh shh~. Awh, I know, honey~. You just feel so tired~,” Midnight sang in a baby-talk tone of voice, brushing the top of your head with the palm of her hand. It was weird, you couldn’t figure out if she saw you as her child or prey. Maybe both. That scares you. Maybe you don’t want to find out any more.

“Don’t worry, sweetie! We’ve got you,” though less scary than the woman currently pinning you, Mic’s mischievous lilt of tone didn’t skate by your observative nature. His eyes seem…darker than when you’d looked at them during one of his happy-go-lucky lectures. Like he was hiding the truth of his words behind a cobweb-like veil of deceit. In fact, Mic was resembling a conniving spider—which made you the ditzy butterfly falling for his web of a trap.

Lethargic and thoroughly worn out from both her quirk and all the running you’ve done, you finally give up. Your body feels warm and tingly, making sleep all the easier to give in to. As darkness flooded your vision and your consciousness finally dove away, Aizawa’s voice filled your ears, “See you soon, (Y/N).”

~ Timeskip ~

Sick. That’s all you felt as the darkness that consumed your thoughts and vision slowly faded. Sick to your stomach. Aching all over. You felt like you were a flimsy shirt thrown into a clothes dryer and left to spin over and over again for three cycles too long.

You tilted your head a bit and promptly groaned at the wave of nausea that swamped your brain. Such a subtle movement caused your whole world to crash sideways into an abysmal painscape. It was like you were zipping around on the shittiest, most rickety roller coaster you’d ever rode. You wanted nothing more than to get off.

All this to say—ow. What the fuck, brain? Why do you hurt me so? That’s all your mind could conjure up at the moment—insults to your own organs—because it hurts too much to think rationally. That was one hell of a shitty rest. It has to be one of the top five worst naps you’ve ever taken. You’ll have to whine about it to Denki after class today, maybe you’ll get some sympathy candy for your brave efforts. Denki…why does it feel like something important happened that he was a part of? Hmm…you can’t put your finger on it right now. Everything’s too drowsy at the moment for logic to be considered. Your eyes are still begrudgingly shut as you twist your torso around, trying to get comfortable again.

That’s the moment you started to become more aware of the outside world around you. Noises of chatter hung in the air like a nagging mosquito. The more you paid attention to the continuous sounds, the more irritating they became. Who was talking so damn much, and why were they making it your problem? Couldn’t they see you were a sick person in need of some goddamn peace and quiet? But, that’s just Class 3-A life, you suppose. None of them ever know when to shut the fuck up. Well, this time, they’d learn! They’d get a piece of your “hungover” mind.

“Oi…,” you grunted out, a snarl vehemently leaking into your tone, “Can’t you guys pipe down?! I’m sorta in the middle of trying to sleep off a nasty headache.”

Maybe your words stung the culprits a bit too much as you heard the room slow to a deathlike silence. No blistering insults were flung back at you from the resident hellhound of Class 3-A Bakugou, no chortles from the jokesters of the bunch, no profuse apologies from the worrywarts—nothing. Just…silence. I mean, you guess that’s the result you wanted; but the tense atmosphere you created is rapidly making you regret your flippant decision.

The encroaching fear made your mind real back to the very moment you woke up. You began rational plotting out the questions that swarmed your mind like hornets to their nest. Wait, where were you again? What time is it? Why do you feel so ill? Why can’t your brain remember what the date is? Something really important was happening before you passed out related to time…passed out. Hold on—that’s right, you passed out!

What the fuck.

You passed out due to what—no…due to who?

Unease finally getting the better of you, you peeped up again, but presenting a much meeker tone this time, “U-Um…guys? Look, I’m…God, I’m sorry for lashing out. I just—my head hurts like hell, I’m sore all over my everywhere, and I don’t know what’s—haannhh…ow, ow, ouch.” As you spewed out the poorly constructed apology, you steadily sat up from whatever hard surface you’d been resting on. The stiff rest stop made you all that more unnerved; it sort of felt like you were on a metal autopsy table. Cold and jarring. As if you were a poor little frog being dissected for all the insatiably curious students to see. It made you want to be swallowed whole by the floor just to escape the distress of the situation. God damnit, why is it still so hard to open your eyes?! They felt like the heaviest slab of lead welded over your eyelids. You forced them open.

Overlooking the blurriness of your vision, you could immediately tell by the general shape of the people standing in front of you that you weren’t in the presence of your beloved classmates like you thought you were.

There were multiple people in the darkened room, all with varying heights and sizes. There weren’t twenty people like how many there are in your class; their numbers were closer to ten or so. Plus, the colors of their outfits didn’t match with your friends’ hero suits you’d come to be extremely familiar with. However, you did recognize the colors and remembered who they belonged to. The answer chilled you to the bone.

You didn’t speak up again in the presence of most, if not all of, your mentors. Yes, your mentors. The adults you interacted with practically every day; who taught you every tactic you knew, who helped you to become a capable hero in the pro world. In fact, you didn’t just not talk, you slumped into yourself a bit. You were afraid. Scratch that—you were beyond afraid. You’d seen, and fought, firsthand against their wrath before. You’ve watched their fights broadcasted on the television, through shaky personally caught videos on the Internet posted by petrified civilians. You’ve worked alongside a few of them through missions and treacherous situations. Hell, you actually battle against one for the right to earn your hero license! That was a tough day, but you’d made it by the skin of your teeth—more than likely only winning because of the unimaginably heavy weights that shackled them as handicaps. In short, they were barbaric beasts on the field. Now…you’re face-to-face with their rage.

Let’s all send a brief prayer for yourself. Maybe your death will be swift and your afterlife pleasant if you beg hard enough.

“My, my, my~,” a sultry voice sang in your right ear, making you shriek at the intrusion of your personal bubble, “such a naughty-mouthed little pet~! Tell me, what brute taught you to speak to your superiors in such a disrespectful way?” It was Midnight again. She was always one to breach your boundaries, whether you wanted her to or not.

She cupped your jaw with one of her hands, pinching and squeezing your gooey cheeks with the other for her pleasure, “Ooooh, precious! How’s your whittle head~?” she cooed while smushing. She wiped away a small bit of drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth, making you feel that much more like a ditzy baby. The way she played with you really did remind you of a child messing around with a delicious treat of springy mochi. Perhaps that was what you were to the ravenous woman, a delicacy to be devoured whole. You shivered in fear again.

Another person from across the room let out a high-pitched whistle, one that indicated astonishment or feeling impressed, “Wow! Brat’s got some spunk to ‘em! Good to know they haven’t switched up since we last spoke.” You weren’t as familiar with that voice as you were with your homeroom teachers, but it did strike a chord in your memory. Their youthful cheer didn’t resemble the dread-filled boredom Aizawa’s held, but they didn’t sound crude enough to be another student. Your vision clearing further was the only thing that gave their mystery identity away. It was Power Loader! It feels like forever since the two of you even acknowledged one another. Either way, he’s here now and fully decked out in his hero gear. The heavy equipment gave you a unique foreboding feeling that his abilities weren’t just all that meets the eye.

“Midnight, step aside, please.” A mellow voice takes control of the conversation. Midnight looks over her shoulder in disdain, as if the very notion of her being politely asked to leave your side is the most disrespectful thing someone could have asked her to do, but it seems that whoever popped the question meant real business. She stepped aside with a huff of frustration, mumbling under her breath curses, and something along the lines of ‘the gall’.

Once she moved, the requester hopped onto the table where you sat. They pushed into your personal space as well. You opted to lean back as much as the encroacher would allow you. From the astronaut-resembling helmet that donned their head and the puffy jacket they wore, you came to the obvious conclusion that this was 13, another member of the faculty here at UA.

She moved your head—left to right, up and down, and in a full circle. She checked all around the front of your body, and basically anywhere that you allowed her to get close to. 13 looked back deeply into your eyes before twisting back to face the bunch, “They don’t appear to be physically hurt on the outside. No scrapes, cuts, sprains, or anything broken. All that I could really deduct was their dilated pupils, meaning the effects of Somnambulist are still present,” 13 whirled forward to you, “Feeling at all hazy, woozy, or tired, (Y/N)?”

You simply stared back at the expressionless black mask 13 wore. You didn’t know what to say—half because you were uncomfortable at how close she was, and half because you were still bracing yourself to get your ass beat by the less merciful of the teachers. Your mind is drawing to blanks as you’re frozen with your jaw left hanging open.

“(Y/N)?” 13 snaps her fingers in front of your face, semi-dragging you out of your tizzy, “Hello? How are you feeling, dear?”

Ignoring the uncalled-for nickname, you wobbled your head about to snap out of whatever stupor you were stuck in, “Aaaah…um…good. I think. Still…vision’s still a bit blurry, head’s kinda fuzzy, but it’s okay. I can’t really feel my legs yet, I guess.” You tried kicking your feet back and forth, and while you could see them sway, you didn’t feel the sensation of your tendons pulling the limbs.

“Alright, that’s okay.” 13 dismounts the desk to face the crowd, “They’ll be fine. Just give their system time to recover from the grogginess. Next time, Midnight, go easier with how much of your toxins you release! They could’ve gotten severely hurt if they inhaled too much.” 13 scolds the tall woman.

Midnight scoffs, “Ugh! Why, I would never intentionally hurt my love bug like that! I swear, you act like I haven’t been controlling my quirk for my whole life!”

“Midnight, we have to set an example for our students, and lying isn’t how we do that. You should acknowledge you do go overboard sometimes,” craggy words tumbled through Midnight’s attempt to save her ass. Off to her side is the stony fortress of a hero, Cementoss, the one who spoke against her. While he is a man (or is he a rock? You’re not too sure even after all these years being a student under him) of few words, he does have the occasional snarky comeback in his vocabulary when he isn’t prattling off haikus and other unheard of analogies for life’s troubles you haven’t heard before. You’re pretty sure that half of what he says is made up on the spot, and you’ve occasionally tested how far you could push his knowledge before by asking him tough questions like “What is the meaning of life?” or “How did the universe come into being?”.

Before Midnight could pulverize the stone man into pebbles, the final guest you could see hanging in the back of the room piped up, “Can we please stop fumbling around like nimrods and get back to the matter at hand?” Inky, sludgy, and methodical in his dialect, it was no shock that its owner was the shadowy hero known to you as Ectoplasm. You’d interacted with him even less than the others, but you weren’t oblivious to his strength. You’d seen the fight between Tsu and Tokoyami against this predator, and you are happy to admit that he wasn’t your enemy on the field that day.

After briefly scanning the room once more, it seemed that everyone who was there had spoken up. Well, except for Aizawa and Present Mic, they seemed to be having a private conversation with themselves. Glances they threw in your direction, no matter how embarrassingly obvious Mic was being or the tenuousness of Aizawa’s, made it hard to ignore their scalding stares. It was borderline disturbing to see Mic so stationary. You wished he’d stop freaking you out and start yelling in your face like he always does. At least that would be one thing that hadn’t changed with the Purge.

“Precisely. Where were we? Please remind us, Ectoplasm.” Cementoss, equally over the distractions going on, encouraged the conversation forward.

“We were talking about our options. What to do for the rest of the Purge. How to proceed with the plan.” he spoke as if it was the most obvious thing that could have been explained. Plan? What plan was he talking about?

“‘Listen, we’ve gone ‘round and ‘round with these ideas for over an hour now,” HUH?!?! EXCUSE YOU, BUT WHAT DID HE SAY?! There was no time to stop their conversation to ask if Power Loader was or wasn’t exaggerating the time that had passed as he pushed on, “Why can’t we just go? I’m starting to get claustrophobic in this room.”

“What, and storm out here with no strategy? Yeah, that’s the best idea we’ve heard tonight.” Aizawa finally tossed his opinion into the ring and—surprise, surprise—it’s another gripe.

“We do have a plan—and a solid one at that! I just said it’s all we’ve been discussing ever since we stepped foot into this bloody room!” Power accused.

“No,” 13 cut in, “the plan you’re talking about is the one we’ve fine-tuned to get out of the school. What Eraser’s referring to is what we’re going to do once we leave the school grounds.” She stepped over to you while giving her speech and wipes your face down with a damp, cool towel. You’re not sure where she dispensed it from, but you supposed that since she specializes in search and rescue missions, she’s bound to have supplies of the like to help in stressful situations built into her hero suit.

“Easy! We run and gun our way out until we find a safe spot! A simply perfect plan. Okay? Let’s go.” Power said with finality.

“For being a seasoned pro, you’re much too antsy. You’re rushing this operation. If you keep sprinting through the important discussions, there will be major consequences.” Cementoss threatened. Power scoffed at the man’s slightly pretentious behavior.

“Think about it,” 13 tried to reason, “There are hundreds of pro heroes out there. Half infected, half not—give or take a handful. For however many pros around out there, there are at least six times as many civilians out there who are either running for their freedom or others who are trying to take that from their darlings. It is too risky to bring them out into a world like that.” Them? Hold on, do they mean you?! No way in hell are you being taken out into the shit storm that the big city has become! You’ve seen how the Purge demolishes the city in years prior. You saw what the news predicted it would be like tonight. Chaos. Pure chaos filled with dangerous, virus-infected people and villains simply trashing the place because they are able. You came into the school to seek shelter in one of the safe rooms to avoid the city, and they want to bring you into it? They can’t do this to you! Have they completely lost it?

Well, you knew that much, but still!

“He’s right, though,” Present Mic finally spoke up from his unusual voicelessness, “We can’t stay here all night waiting for some miracle to spring up. We’ve gotta take some action.” His shoulders buckled inward to show his agitation.

“And no one is saying that we will stay, Mic.” Cement’s sensible attitude never fails to shine through the stress of a tough discussion.

“But you are saying that. You know it…because you’re afraid. We all are afraid.” Mic grabbed everyone's attention because of how softly his words came out.

“I mean, we all know who exactly is out there,” Mic somberly stood and walked over to your side. You wanted to shimmy away from how close he got, but you chose to sit still to hear what else he had to say, “It’s not an if or maybe situation—he is looking for them. Maybe staying in the school has some perks. At least here he can’t get to them without breaking down a few thick walls.” At Mic’s dreadful outlook, everyone’s prepared responses fell into stifling silence. Who is he talking about? Why do you feel a shiver scaling up your spine at the faceless adversary? All this anticipation is going to make you go insane for real this time.

“It’s true. But UA isn’t safe either. We’re not alone and we aren’t the only ones in this building who’re interested in them. Those confounding kids of yours are still around, Aizawa.” Ectoplasm countered. Finally finding the place in the conversation where you can speak, you took your chance.

“Are you talking about the rest of my class?” you breathed out. The teachers spun their heads to give you their full attention. It creeped you out—their devotion to hearing you speak as if it was gospel—but you guess this virus is handy when you need to grab the attention of a bustling room.

“Glad you can still find your voice, sweets.” Mic praised you with a gentle pat on the top of your head. A total switch up from his gloomy personality just prior.

“And, yes, we are.” Ectoplasm sighed, sending one of his clones to your side. The clone didn’t do much except lay their hand on your head and brush your hair back, “They've proven to be quite…driven in their resolve to keep you by their sides.”

“Meaning they’re being a real pain in our—,” Mic’s interrupted by Aizawa’s scarf strangling the bottom half of his face to cease the loud man’s babbling.

“Hmmn, you guys take everything so personally,” Midnight bemoaned, propping her spike-heeled shoes against the side of one of the many desks around, “the children are just playing together, ‘is all! In fact, they’re making this night much more fun for me hehe~.” You cringed, and the only word running through your mind was ‘creepy.’

“Yes. Be kind, Mic. They haven’t been a bother for some time now.” Cementoss spoke with a grateful tone of voice.

“Well, it’s no wonder they haven’t been.” Power Loader huffed while resting his body back onto a nearby table.

“What do you mean?” you asked. You shifted up further to give the conversation your full attention. Once you were up, a slight tightness on your wrists captured your distracted brain. You glanced down and saw binding on your wrists. They were bound with tape. Tape…oh! That’s right! You were taped up by Sero before this shit show happened! You scanned your body up and down and didn’t see any of his tape around anything but your hands. It’s gone from your mouth too since you can speak to the teachers. You guess you’re thankful that they at least gave you the freedom to wiggle your legs around. Nonetheless, you’re still unforgivable-level mad at them for being dicks and holding you hostage.

“He means that ever since Shinsou caught them under his hypnosis, and Midnight leaked her Somnambulist to put them under, they’ve been sound asleep in the gymnasium.” Ectoplasm’s words curl up like a snake wrapping around its helpless prey. You feel less comforted by Ecto’s clone lovingly stroking your head now. That means no one else has been looking for you ever since Aizawa, Mic, and Midnight took you. Goody gumdrops.

“Yea’,” a new, twangy voice plucks into the conversation, “and it seems they ain’t rearin’ up again for some time.” It echoed from the entrance of the room a few feet ahead of your spot by the windows, so you craned your neck to the side to see past the teachers blocking the way.

His foreign accent was a big hint, but if there was any confusion as to who exactly was speaking, his masked appearance confirmed his identity. Snipe was perched against the door frame, slacked back against the wooden frame, and bending his knee to rest one of his spurred cowboy boots on the frame as well. Since when did he get there? You don’t recall seeing him when you scanned the room earlier. What was even more surprising was that on the other side of the doorframe rested Vlad King, Class 3-B’s homeroom teacher. You watched him side-eye his coworkers and, opposite to the rest, he stayed silent. Quiet, analytical. You haven’t interacted with him as much as you have with the others since he’s not one of your main teachers, but you’re certain from the way he and Aizawa have this sort of one-sided rivalry going on between them that he’s not one to be taken lightly.

“Hey, hey, hey,” barked Present Mic, “what are you two doing in here? You’re supposed to be guarding the door!”

“We decided to come in when we heard you lot yappin’. Wanted to see if our blossom was alright.” Okay, these corny nicknames were getting to be a little much—and it was becoming hard to not laugh at them when Snipe’s Western country-ass voice tried to say it so seriously.

“Yeah, right. You just wanted to see them.” Power Loader grumbled on his lonesome. Jealous much?

“Great, the peanut gallery’s all here.” you chuckled to yourself. Honestly, it was a smartass remark that was only meant for your ears to hear, but you should’ve known better than to mutter in the presence of such high-profile, analytical, pro heroes.

“Watch your tone, (L/N). I’ve taught you better than to speak to your superiors like that.” Aizawa’s steely gaze came to life, an intimidating red glow directly pointed your way. His mop of bushy, black hair billowing up to dangle in midair. It drifted about like a bed of kelp swaying with the brush of the ocean’s currents. All the built-up energy you didn’t realize was coursing through your veins came to a staggering halt, The strength permeating your limbs immediately drained. You’ve been under the influence of Aizawa’s quirk before when you were caught in the mix of his frustrations at the pranksters of your class, so this wasn’t an unexplored feeling, but it was still jarring to be stripped of all your powers you so flippantly take for granted.

As you looked around, you realized your statement was wrong—not all of the teachers were there. Not apologizing for telling the truth, you continued your comments as though Aizawa had never threatened you, “Ixnay that—not everyone's here. Where’s the rest of them?” Aizawa sighed and released you from the hold of his power when he realized you were simply ignoring his wrath. Honestly? He tips his hat to you for the response. Avoiding confrontation is sometimes the best course of action.

“Huh? Oh! Ha ha, you’re so clever! We brought it up briefly to the other staff members but—,” Power Loader had begun, but he was soon interrupted.

“They either had no interest or were busy with other plans for the Purge.” Vlad finally spoke up from his dark corner. Right, you remember why you don’t speak to him all that often. He scared the living shit out of you. At least you can have a somewhat decent conversation with Aizawa. With Vlad King, it’s always cold-shoulders and overdramatic frustration to simple questions you ask him. Those brief few words reeked such deadly poison, as if saying that anyone could ignore you was a crime against humanity. His facial expression showed his irritation, a frown stretching down his worn features and a frustrated crinkle cut between his eyebrows.

“Thanks. I was in the middle of getting to that.” Power snarked at the behemoth hero.

“We asked All Might if he wanted to come along with us,” 13 chirped, “but he declined as well. We don’t know exactly where he is, but he’s around.”

“Yeah! Not to mention how he responded! Something like,” Mic made his voice stretch lower into his register with a profound, macho gusto, and a large smile—an All Might smile—grew on his lips, ""HA HA! I appreciate the offer, friends, but I will be alright on my own! Good luck to you! I am off!”, and ran off to who knows where. Weird!”

“You guys never let me say the important parts of the stories.” Power scowled to himself.

“Gotcha,” you acknowledged the length of explanation, “So…what happens now?” you prodded.

“Now,” Midnight coos at a distance that is yet again too close for comfort, “we get to have fun with you~.”

“WHAT?! I’m not some class pet. Find a guinea pig somewhere else!” you wriggled away from the dastardly woman.

“Endearing how much control you think you have over the situation,” Aizawa smirked. You hated his comfort in the idea of a fictional complacency, one that was only caused by your own fear of speaking against them, “Stop playing naive, (L/N).”

In an effort to distract yourself from his stare, you pressed, “What’s the big plan after all this then?”

“After what, dearest?” Midnight mused. She reached a hand to your hair and softly massaged your shoulders. Quite done with the games they played, you shook her lingering touches off.

“After the Purge is over. What do you plan to do with me?” You wanted to add a sassy ‘obviously’ somewhere in that question, but you held your tongue for now. We’ll see how long that lasts.

“Sweetie~, we plan to have you as ours!” Midnight purred, circling around you like a beast going in for the kill. You rolled your eyes—how vexing can this woman be?

“Wow! That’s so funny, I forgot to laugh.” You threw out a half-assed pity laugh for the pro. You looked at the other pros for some kind of confirmation that Midnight was just being her usual lofty self, but when no comforting gaze reached your eyes, you felt your grin crumble.

“Eh…heh. Alright, that’s how we’re playing this. All the unfunny jokes aside—Hell freaking NO am I letting you lot take me anywhere. I’m not going willingly! I kick, I scream, and I do bite. I’m feral, bitc—,” You managed to squirm hard enough that you actually broke away from whoever was holding you the tightest in the ball of limbs. You slid off the glossy table and slunk back a few feet. It was just spacious enough for you to finally get a deep breath in from the overwhelming physical affection but you were nowhere near a safe distance from the psychos of UA.

“Willingly isn’t an issue. Plenty of us have quirks that can make you submit easily. Resistance will only produce failure for you. I don’t want to be forced to hurt your miniscule feelings.” Vlad gruffed out. He truly reminded you of an English bulldog—grumpy and hard-headed to the extreme.

“Oh, be sweeter, Vlad! Don’t scare the poor thing before we’ve had our fun.” 13 tried to reason with the ice-cold man.

“I am being sweet.” Vlad defended.

“No, you’re being a wet blanket,” Mic advised with a casual whistle.

“Shut up.” The white-haired man huffed out a pointed wind of air. With tusks as sharp as nails protruding out of his mouth, harsh huffs of breath that escaped his nose, and rising anger visibly seeping from his form, it made the image of him in your mind morph from cute, grumpy bulldog to a ravenous warthog.

“No, you shut up!” Power Loader lept on the chance to start bickering with Vlad King as he was still irritated at him for stealing his thunder.

“Girls, girls! You’re both pretty. Now, can we please get back to the much more pleasant person of interest?” Midnight tried to get the boys to back off, but her joke only made them that much more infuriated.

“Who’re you calling pretty?!” Vlad whipped his head over to the purple-haired sex fiend.

“Fix your words, Midnight, or I’ll give you something to be sorry for.” Vlad reared in, sneering at the woman something fierce.

“Here we go,” Aizawa muttered while shrinking further into his tall scarf tower.

“Nice one, Nemuri.” Hizashi bumped her with his elbow.

“I apologize…for you being a whiny BITCH!” You could practically see the overexaggerated sweat drop slip down the rest of the teachers’ heads as the beast of a man went off the rails from Midnight’s claim. He started stomping around, bellowing and nearly tossed a table across the room. You stood there and just…watched the man go from a professional, stoic, respectable instructor to a crybaby throwing the most dangerous tantrum known to mankind.

Guess he didn’t appreciate being called pretty.

Would he have preferred gorgeous?

That joke, while absolutely hilarious and should have been told for at least someone to hear its magnificence, you held in your throat so you didn’t get bitch slapped by a heavy office chair and receive a one-way ticket, all-expense-paid trip to God’s doorstep. You used the teacher’s being distracted with trying to calm the raging boarman down as an opportunity to scan for available exits. They were currently blocking the only door in or out, so that way out was an absolute no-go. You looked behind you and saw another door, but it didn’t look like it would provide a fruitful escape. By process of elimination, it would most likely be another closet that had no exit—and you DID NOT want to be stuck in one of those again. It was a miracle that the one earlier tonight had one! You do not want to try your luck again with much more threatening opponents in your way.

Inspecting further, there didn’t appear to be any other doors around to scamper out of. The last option you had was the large pane windows facing the outside, normally providing you with quite a beautiful bird’s eye view of the city. While it was an escape route, the task of escaping after exiting would be less than ideal. You were currently at least six storeys off of the ground, and you couldn’t guarantee that your quirk would save you from that high of a drop. Plus, the roof was still at least a few floors upwards, so you couldn’t hang out of the window and easily grab a railing. Not that you’d be sneaky enough to do that without alerting the bickering party of adults in front of you. You weren’t sure where else you could turn to avoid a serious temper tantrum.

Shatter.

A window to the side of where you were standing abruptly splintered away. A rush of the chilled night air flooded the room with one thorough sweep. The infiltration was not caused by the window simply breaking due to a strong gust of wind or a tree branch breaking the surface. No—it turned out to be a rather unwelcome intruder.

“Heyo~,” a certain bombshell blond’s lilting tone filled the thick tension in the boardroom. Your eyes zeroed in on the hero’s iconic ruby-red wings and instantly knew who it was. Hawks! You’d seen him in the field before from a distance, even captured his attention for long enough to have a brief conversation. A certain twist in your chest wrung out the breath filling your lungs when you thought about his suave nature that day.

You were there with your three main boys the day you’d met Hawks. You had just started working at Endeavor’s agency because of the generous offer provided to you by Todoroki during the Holiday party. It was certainly kind of him to extend his hand to you, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. You tackled him in a hug, and you watched obliviously how he nearly short-circuited at the affection. Though the day you all met up to head off, Bakugou had been acting a little salty around Shoto that afternoon after discovering that he had reached out to you too to join them, but you figured it was just usual Bakugou. Always waking up on the angry side of the bed. Izuku didn’t have the heart to tell you it’s because none of them wanted to make fools of themselves in front of you. Him especially. You are quite oblivious to the “more-than-just-friends” affection they had for you, but Deku was happy keeping it that way. After a bit, the four of you had settled in together and met Shoto’s father.

No thanks to Bakugou’s “stellar” introduction with the pro, Endeavor had put his foot down to deny taking on other interns, other than his own son. Thankfully, hero work is never finished, as a villain attacked then and there. All of you sprung into action despite Endeavor’s denial, and that is when you saw it. Or, rather, him. Red spears descending from the sky like Valkyries swooping in to protect the weak. You saw soon enough that these weren’t spears, they were feathers. The winged hero, Hawks, aided Endeavor in taking down the crazed terrorizer effortlessly. No hesitancy or mercy. Not so much as a bead of sweat lining his forehead either. After recuperating, you and Izuku practically tackled the man in an effort to meet him.

In the staggeringly casual meeting, he was pleased to say he already knew about you from your close friend, Tokoyami. However, he pretty much overlooked the green-haired puffball as he stuck you down with his unnerving amber pools. Hawks suavely shared that he was especially excited to meet you specifically. We’re these most likely only sugar-coated words to get your heart racing for the notorious playboy? Rationally, absolutely. His ego knew no bounds—he’d do anything to get the fans swooning for his flippant affections. Yet, you fell for it nonetheless. You hopelessly played the perfect giddy fan as you devoured all his teasing remarks, his infatuation with your quirk, and his cocky winks. A peck of his lips strategically gifted to the back of your hand was given to no doubt solidify a good relationship, but you nearly passed out. You gushed at the attention before, and you probably would again. You were no different from any faces in his crowd of fans that he interacted with. Or so you thought.

He soon took off after meeting with Bakugou and Shoto briefly. You’d geeked out about the interaction afterwards to the boys. An blatant envy to Hawks’ ease at impressing the masses, you as well now included, made them stumble at their advances. Izuku buried his own jealousy at the hero by directing your attention back to what the rest of the day had planned, and it distracted him from the negative feelings too, thankfully. Shoto had crossed his arms and stood as a silent watcher to walk alongside you. You did catch that he was standing rather close to you. Bakugou only spat insult after insult about the bird brain and the hot-headed waste of a father, hoping that tarnishing the memory of Hawks in your mind would get your mind off of that loser and onto him. He soon cooled off, and became a bodyguard beside you, like Shoto, mumbling to himself about how “pointless” it was to chat with the likes of that douche.

You knew that this meeting was no accident. Hopefully, the hero is here to save you from this awful nightmare. Though, he didn’t show up alone.

“Hawks,” Snipe grumbled a rugged greeting, quite obviously ticked off that the snarky bastard was ruining their sanctuary, “what’re you doin’ here?”

“Oh, not here for any particular reason. Flyin’ around, stopping to smell the roses…,” he lolled his head to look right at you, a devilish smirk lining his strikingly handsome face.

“Inspecting suspicious activity in the area.” A velvety smooth voice strikes up from behind you. You jump and whip your head to the side to see the culprit. Laying a gentle, yet comforting, grip on your shoulder was the famous Rabbit Hero: Mirko. You hadn’t really gotten a chance yet to interact with her in your journey as an aspiring hero. You’d heard about her competitive nature through various interviews you’d seen her in. You’d never felt more like prey than now, underneath her sight. Nonetheless, she was even more stunning than the media could convey. Her white locks draped along your shoulder as she peered down over you, the faint scent of lavender and earthy rubble wafting into your senses. Rumi’s piercing blood-tinged irises looked down upon you with a satisfactory expression. The lingering glint of fire locked within her gaze guided you to understand that whatever was driving her on this mission to confront your captors was far from fizzling out.

You’d heard some about personal interactions with her from Bakugou and Midoriya when they worked with her in the field. Deciphering Bakugou’s turn of phrase you’ve come to be fluent in after all these years, you gauged that she wasn’t too bad of a coworker. He’d said she was strong and that she had a kick that was no joke. When Bakugou remembered something about the people he fought alongside, you knew they left some impression on him—good or bad. He did make a point to reiterate that she only “gets in his way”, but he regards everyone that way, so it’s not a huge concern. Midoriya mostly info-dumped about her quirk and every fighting tactic he’d thought up to either aid her or counter her, but you didn’t mind his ramblings. Animal-based quirks like hers were always intriguing to learn about, and you’d appreciated him taking the time to tell you all the information he’d drug out of the woman. They both agreed (shockingly) they would like to work with her again.

You asked some of the girls of 3-A what they thought of Mirko before, and were surprised when they all nearly trampled you in their freak-out fangirling over the woman. Hagakure gushed over how much she loved what Mirko was doing for the community of women in the pro hero society. She adored how Mirko showed the world that women weren’t just damsels in distress; that the power and strength they hold mentally and physically is one to behold. Mina giddily hugged your arm as she declared the hero gave her confidence to not hide any of her more eccentric or “out-of-the-norm”, as she put it, features. Momo allowed herself to become vulnerable as she shared how Mirko taught her how if others don’t have confidence in your abilities you have to be your own advocate. Perfectionism was rampant in the poor girl, and she had such high expectations for herself. Seeing Momo learning to be more gentle with herself was comforting.

 Jiro and Uraraka explained all the ways she really was a fantastic figure for women, not simply aspiring heroes, to look up to. Strong, snarky, never afraid to throw a quick insult or punch to any ignorant when she needed to. Mirko was not known to be a passive presence; she made sure you know exactly what her opinion on any matter is when she gets in your face to tell you it. Since she wasn’t attached to an agency, most would think she’d be an outcast, but they’d be wrong. The girls told you how she was a lone wolf type, that she’d rather handle everything her own way. You admired her for that. Mirko’s belief of not fitting in with the crowd to instead be at the front lines of encouraging others to break the mold society says you should fit is one to be coveted.

“How’s it going, (Y/N)?” Mirko warmly asked you. You froze when you heard your name fall from her lips. How did she know you? You’d never met face-to-face before in your life! She’s even prettier than the photos snapped by her paparazzi could try to convey.

“Are these guys giving you any trouble~?” Hawks ruffled your hair as he sprouted up next to you like a daisy in a sunny meadow. You felt your face heat up at their actions, not getting used to the unwavering attention of such prestigious members of the Hero Agencies. Also, they’re two of the most gorgeous people in all of Japan. Even a sparse glance in someone’s direction would be enough to make anyone crumple to their knees—nevermind that they’re actually addressing you. You were having a hard time standing up on your own, knees wobbly and jittery, your eyes bouncing back and forth between the two in a fumbling manner. All you could think about was not making a total fool of yourself in front of your heroes. That’s about when you realized you hadn’t responded to them, leaving everyone listening with bated breath at your silence.

You wanted to slap yourself for the silly star-struck reaction, “Oh! I–um…,”

“They’re fine, thank you very much.” Surprisingly, Cementoss’ usual composed tone took a frozen turn. Guess he didn’t appreciate the two of them being here. In fact, it looked to be that most of the teachers in that room didn’t care much for the pros being present, all of them having a crinkled up forehead and scowles dotting their lips. That, or the frustration is from the broken window. Whoops.

“They’d feel more fine if you’d back off.” Vlad King, who had finally calmed down, cautioned the duo. Though he’d cooled off his ramage, you could see the irritated vein popping out underneath his skin, so another outburst was sure to loop back around. Whether it was expressed in a hunched posture, snippy tone, or the expression on their faces; the teachers all agreed on one thing. These two were trouble and had to be escorted away from their darling now.

“Yeesh! What a tough crowd, Mirko!” Hawks overdramatically threw the back of his hand over his forehead. He leaned his body backwards, grasping his other hand over his chest where his heart lies, and wailed out in a helpless maiden-like tone. Oh, yeah. You forgot that he’s such a drama queen. It’s silly, but also somewhat charming, in a way.

“Ha! Seems so, Hawks. Hey, chill out, we’re only here to play babysitter, old timer.” Mirko snickered to herself. Hawks joined in her light-hearted teasing with a bright chortle of his own. His laugh formed from a cluster of tiny clicks rattling through his teeth.

“...What was that, little lady?” Vlad’s temper was never one to back down as he cracked his knuckles. You felt Mirko’s hand clasp tighter around your shoulder at Vlad’s choice of words. You could tell she wanted to go off on him and rip him to shreds both verbally and physically, but held her tongue. Now was not the time to start a war.

“Eh, don’t take it so personally, King! She was just pointing out the obvious~,” Hawks egged the man on. Seems to be Hawks didn’t agree with the “no war” idea. You were beginning to get a bit nervous with the pros’ language. You didn’t want to be on the receiving end of the boar man’s tantrum, as previously mentioned, so why were they purposefully lighting his fuse?! At least move you out of the way first before digging their own grave! Though, you might get pushed into it with them when you can’t dodge their crossfire.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” 13 sneered at the shade.

“You’re all…wise from all your experiences,” words posing as carefully chosen by Hawks no doubt fired up the two more.

“But (Y/N) needs protection from a fresher-faced cast. If you catch our drift~,” Mirko finished for her quick-witted partner.

“That is why you’re all gathered, right? For the Purge?” Hawks anything but innocently asked the group. Those who weren’t lost in their own rage showed a glimpse of hesitation in the answer. Hawks, willing to take a mile from the inch they gave him, ran with their slip-up.

“So, it is true. Judging by the switch in your behaviors, and from that out of the ordinary hue in your irises, seems to me like this lot caught the illness. Probably from those students bulldozing through the school. Can you believe it, Mirko?” Hawks swiftly closed the little distance between you two by slinging an arm over your shoulders.

“I can. They’ve been in such close proximity, it’s no wonder they caught it. I’m just disappointed. They’re supposed to protect people like our lovely (Y/N) here from these incidents. Instead, they’re fueling the catastrophe Hmm. You must’ve been so scared running away from these shit excuses for teachers.” Mirko brought her hand to your cheeks and pinched them together to make your lips pout outward.

“Hey! You know that’s bull—,” Power Loader barked as he leaned across a nearby table.

“What were you sickos planning to do with them, huh? Make them your slave after this night,” Hawks unapologetically interrupted the man, a silence washing over the room at the question being sprung, “Force them to be at your beck and call for everything? Splay their body out to satisfy your needs whenever and wherever you wanted? Disgusting.” Hawks veered his body in front of yours to shield it with one of his huge red wings. The more he talked about what your captors would do to you after the Purge, the more fear reeved up to course through your veins. While thinking about the possibilities of what would happen after the Purge if you were caught, Hawks’ accusations had crossed your mind, but you tried to ignore them earlier. They wouldn't…they’d respect your wishes even if you…belonged to them after all this! They—not your friends, nor your teachers—wouldn’t do those horrible things to you.

And yet, based on everything that’s happened thus far…

You’re not sure anymore.

You shrunk into Mirko’s side deeper, wishing to disappear from the conversation of your fate entirely. You felt her wrap an arm around your waist, and you felt safer with the basically strangers than you had all night long with your long-time partners. You wanted to cry from the relief of finally having somewhere safe to turn. You held the tears back to see where their confrontations would lead.

You felt Mirko lead your stiff body with fleeting strides. She was obviously trying to give you an out, so you went willingly. Just let them do as they please. Anything to get out of this suffocating mess. Hawks caught on to her.

“How dare you try to make those foolish claims against us,” Aizawa began, rage climbing high in his heart. He reached for his infamous scarf and pulled the end piece out, preparing for his attack. Screw playing nice. Screw relying on others. Fuck letting these idiots walk all over him. The nerve of this flashy waste of space dictating him to be the kind of monster that would take advantage of you. You’d been in his life for so long now that he hardly even tries to remember the times without you and his other students. So many tough challenges your class has faced, and yet, each hurdle was leapt over with no hesitation. Your entire class had brought him such joy over the years through the sorrow. His kids. However, you and Shinsou undoubtedly claimed the prize to share the number one spot on his favorites list. You’d been so attentive and caring over him when he’d left you to flounder for air. Late nights powering through boring essays, countless assignments completed only an hour before they were due, the weekend study sessions that almost always turned into game nights or gossiping over snacks that he’d seen you participate in with your other friends. You work so tirelessly to be a good student and attentive friend. That effort wasn’t unnoticed by his watchful eye.

There were many more less impactful moments shared that, dare he say, mean even more to him than the death-defying acts you’d survived together. Chats over the positive current life events with him drinking his standard cup of muddy brown coffee and you casually sipping your own beverage. Walks around campus with him, Midoriya, Tokoyami, Ojiro, and you. The sky gleaming a dazzling aqua blue with the sun sparkling overhead, but not in an overwhelming glare. Puffy clouds dancing in the air. A pleasant, flowery breeze twirling past you. One late night in the common room when he was making his last round to make sure everyone was securely in their dorms, he found you sitting on the couch brushing off the aggressive tears slipping down your cheeks.

When he’d made his presence known that night, you’d shot up like a fired bullet off the comfy sofa, scrubbing your puffy eyes in an attempt at covering up the residual cry session. You’d greeted him warmly with a laughing cough to hide your choked up throat, but he shut down your plan of concealment by hinting that he’d already seen your sadness flowing. That night he sat beside you and talked. Talked about what you were upset about, talked through your doubts, fears, and resentment over how you didn’t know what you were going to do now. Gave you a sorrow-filled look when you broke down into a fit of violent sobs again. He even sat with you in a lingering, but reassuring, silence after your sobs faded.

Only then did Aizawa release a sliver of his own castle walls to give you a hug holding as much love as he could spare from his withered and beaten heart. He told you many ways how your class had changed him to be a better man. How you inspired him to keep pushing himself to look ahead to what beauty the future could hold. Aizawa promised you that night that no one was going to abandon you like you’d feared. He promised to always be there for you whenever you needed his support. All he needed was for you to reach out, and he’d claw up any bit of strength he had left to come rescue you like the hero he promised Oboro and Hizashi he would become. Today was no different from back then.

These fakes weren’t going to tarnish his cherished memory of that night with you. That night, when you’d smiled back up at him with a wobbly grin and soggy eyes, now glistening with hope from his words, you should have known he wouldn’t let some nobodies crush your heart. These wretches didn’t stand a chance.

Power Loader cut Aizawa off to continue, “We would never. Stop trying to scare them like that!”

13, back to her reasonable self, even tried coaxing you, “(Y/N), they are lying. We would never betray you. Now, if you’d please come back here—,”

Feeling bolder with allies at your side, you forced your lips to move to stop their rambling lies, “Why should I believe a single word that comes out of any of your mouths?!” The room fell into stillness. It was as if the whole world had shut itself up to give you the stage to speak your mind.

Fed up and running off of pure adrenaline, you continued, “None of you have asked for my opinion on anything that has happened tonight. You don’t care what I have to say; all you give a shit about is doing whatever the fuck you want to me. You didn’t tell me what you were planning. You spied on me, you kidnapped me, and kept me stuck in this hell as your little hostage all night!

“Even if you did care about me, it was only to find out what you could gain from me for your selfish desires.” You downcasted your eyes at their knife-like glares.

Tears welled up and this time you couldn’t stop them from dragging down your tired face. You took a shaky breath to fill your deflated lungs, “I…I understand this virus has…changed you. I understand whatever you’re going through isn’t easy to fight against. But I don’t know. I don’t know what is happening to any of you. I don’t know what you’re thinking of doing. I just…can’t know. I’m too scared to even try to begin searching for the answer. My classmates have become the same as you—completely changed from who they are. They’ve been hunting me down. And now this thing has taken my teachers too?” Your lips wobbled at the realization of your loss.

“Ha…it’s like one sick joke the world is playing against me,” an exasperated laugh bled from your vocal chords, “I don’t know how it’s making you feel, but I know what it is making you do to me. You’re scaring me. I don’t feel safe. Around any of you. It isn’t crazy to consider you’d force me to do…other things too.”

You caught Aizawa’s eyes when you looked up. You turned away to save yourself from the heartbreak of his torn expression.

You curled into Hawks’ back, shrouding your emotional husk of a body in his fluffy feathers. You allowed the last few dying words left in your quaking heart to wheeze out, “Please. Leave me alone. Please.” Whether your teachers were mad at you for speaking against them, or if they wanted to get on their knees and beg for your forgiveness, you had no clue. All you know is that Hawks whips around, gathers your trembling form in his arms, and takes a couple of steps back from Mirko.

“Hang on tight.” He gently whispers to you. Unconsciously, you obeyed, and securely held onto the fizzy collar of his iconic jacket.

“We’ll be watching over them for the rest of the Purge.” That cold, nonchalant jab to the teachers was the last fleeting acknowledgment Mirko threw at them. Hawks spread his wings.

“Next time, before you go destroying the mental and emotional well-being of your students, get a grip on reality.” The finality of Hawks’ tone was filled with all the venom that he felt you lovingly held back. Your kindness is not what this lot deserves. With that, he flapped his humongous wings a few times to kickstart his ascension and took off with you pressed tightly against him. He soared up and out of the broken window, making sure to cover you properly so you didn’t get sliced or stabbed by any broken glass. You watched Mirko clamber out of the rickety window from over his shoulder, land on the edge of the concrete window sill, and use her legs to jump as high into the air as she could.

You watched in awe as she practically flew up several storeys, confidently grasp the edge of the railing atop the roof, and gently sling herself onto the roof without so much as a hiccup. Judging by the trajectory of where Hawks was flying, he too was aiming for the roof. Not like you cared at this point. As long as you were away from them, you’d be fine to go anywhere they took you.

“We at Air Hawks thank you for flying with us on this gorgeous evening, esteemed passenger. We have now reached our destination, the rooftop of the illustrious UA High. The weather outside is clear skies at a balmy 75°, so you may see a stunning view of the city tonight. Please take care and follow your charming, ever good-looking pilot as he will guide you towards the exit.” Hawks cracked a light joke to try and pull you out of the dark headspace you were currently dwelling inside. You spared him a half-hearted giggle for his attempt, allowing him to release the hold his hands had on the backs of your knees. You plopped your feet down softly to the ground just as Mirko had made it over.

“Here, let me get that for you.” Mirko held out her hands, her gaze trained on Sero’s tape that was still wound snugly around your wrists. Wow. You’d entirely forgotten they were still there. You lifted your wrists to the admirable woman and merely watched as she took your already reddening wrists into hers.

“Honestly. What barbarians. To leave you bound like this? Complete bullshit.” Mirko muttered insult after insult under her breath as she wasted no time in destroying the binding. She took your wrists up to her mouth and carefully chomped down using her steely, rabbit-esque front teeth on the strips to make a sizable cut through them. She gently pulled your wrists apart and the tape effortlessly split. Free, at last.

Using your fingers, you tore away the remaining severed strips with a wince, and threw them to the ground. Battered and bruised, you saw that your wrists were nearing raw from how much struggling against the tape’s adhesive you’d done. You gave a quick massage to stimulate blood flow back into your numbing fingertips.

“There! Feel any better?” Mirko prodded.

“Much. Thank you for getting me out of there. I seriously couldn’t have asked for a cooler getaway than two of the top pro heroes in Japan being my saviors.” you tossed a light joke in along with the gratitude. You yanked the two pros into your chest with a tight hug to further show your thanks, taking a deep breath against their chests. They were rigid at first, but they both allowed themselves. However, while being this close, they couldn’t help but notice the sweet smell drifting off of your clothing. There was little the pros could do to avoid the intoxicating aroma, but before they could delve further into what it was, they heard a tiny sniffle sound from your buried head.

With an alertness to you that he hadn’t felt before, Hawks pulled you away from his chest with a concerned look on his face. “Hey, what’s up, baby bird?” Hawks were much more determined than he had been all night to get you to open up about what was going on in your brain.

Not looking up from the ground to respond, he placed his fingertips underneath your chin and tilted your bent head up. You had a thread of silvery tears lining your lower lash line and a wobbly lip that made both Mirko and Hawks’ aggravation boil their blood.

“Hon, tell us what’s wrong.” Mirko commanded. She could barely contain the loathing that spiderwebbed throughout her heart. When she gets her hands on those measly heroes who mistreated you, she is going to make them wish they’d never bothered you with their worthless existence ever again. Lousy maggots. Just as Mirko’s mind was going to float off the deep end into disturbing plans of vile and ruthless methods of punishment, she caught herself.

Woah. That’s new. That was aggressive.

No, the aggressiveness was not new. She’d always had a bit of spark to her. Her wild thoughts are what made her such a great hero; that’s how Mirko became widely recognized for her prowess. It was who she was having the ruthless feelings against that surprised her. She’s worked with those pros, her coworkers and friends, for years. She barely knows you at all. Yet, she’s planning every possible way she could make the insolent, ignorant gang pay for their mistreatment.

Although, why should that fact matter? Why shouldn’t they pay? Sure, they’re her friends, but they abused an innocent. They forcefully used their quirks and position of power over you to make you suffer! It’s despicable. It’s dishonorable. They should face the punishment of the law. But…that isn’t enough. Her rationality slips, drifting further away the longer she feels you warm her. It fuels a fire within her, and that fire sets the marrow lining her bones a light. She doesn’t want to toss the aggressors off to the police like a spineless coward. You deserve better than that. You deserve more. You deserve justice. She is justice. Technically, she is the law. She will make them pay. Yes, that’s a wonderful idea!

God, she hasn’t felt this warmth in a long time. Too long. You’re wonderful.

Hawks isn’t faring any better. He’s wild-eyed—his mind deep sketching out the framework of delusional fantasies of him taking you on as his trainee, showing you all the tips and tricks he’s learned in the harsh world of hero life, and quite literally taking you under his wing. Maybe you two become more after you get closer. Keigo isn’t unfamiliar with the desire of wanting companionship in his life. He often finds himself daydreaming of a partner by his side, on and off the field of battle. Never a specific person, just a faceless, nameless being, fluttering through his desires. Smiling, laughing, enjoying each other's time together. Cute stuff. Hawks yearns for that small sliver of normalcy. Keigo wants to feel human—to feel whole again after everything he’s been stripped of in his miserable existence.

With you, even though your interactions have been brief and you’ve endured some light flirting of his that is barely considerably mentionable, you’ve brought him nothing but a comforting and loving feeling. He feels indebted to you for simply being you. Not lying to him, or trying to pretend to be someone you’re not. He’s constantly surrounded by deceptive and cruel human nature. He truly couldn’t tell you how many thousands of googly-eyed newbies have introduced themselves to him, praying for even a small flicker of his fame to rub off on them. Hoping to use him to spring them up into the actually noticeable charts. It’s so easy to read them too. They’re open, flimsy magazines. Bright, colorful, eye-catching, and full of back-stabbing and strategically fabricated lies. Spread wide and pleading for him to flip through their pages. They always hiss lies through their teeth, grinning and bearing the once-in-a-lifetime interaction. But no matter how much sucking up they commit to or how well they try to veil the truth of their intentions behind sugared words, he never fails to see through them.

Guess the training he went through as a child was good for something. If you don’t open up to people, you can never get hurt. Sure, that tactic has worked wonders…up until meeting you.

But he’s just so tired. He just wants to lower the railing and find something worth all the fight he puts up.

You might be his outlet.

“It’s…it’s just been a long night. I’m sorry—,” you tried to cover your face with your forearm, desperate to conceal the embarrassing honest showing on your face. Mirko gently removed your shield with a comforting smile.

“Oh no, hon, it’s fine—,”

“Never ever apologize for your feelings—,” both pros stumbled over each other’s words. When they realized they were getting anywhere by interrupting the other, they shared a look. After a small nod shared, they wrapped their arms around you again.

“You’re okay,” they both said at the same time, cradling you against them once again. You snuggled deeper, taking that chance to breathe deep and avoid spiraling into a panic attack.

While your arms were around the two, you accidentally brushed against Hawks’ wings. That is when you noticed his wings had puffed up in size, similar to how any bird does when they want to appear bigger to a threat they face. He had been very tense at the beginning of the hug, so maybe he was only nervous, so you chose to not question it. Plus, you’d just let a room full of deadly pro heroes! Yeah, it’s alright. However, the light thudding taps of Rumi’s foot against the concrete roof was something you couldn’t explain. Is it normal for hybrid rabbits to emulate this characteristic from their bunny counterparts? You’re not too sure.

You tried to pull away, but their tight grips didn’t let you. Oh. Well, maybe they’re both in desperate need of a hug. You’re very familiar with your classmates coming to you for hugs during their rougher days. They always said you had the best hugs, and you take great pride in that fact. Come to think of it, maybe you should ask them all about their mental health more often, just so no one spirals off the deep end and punches another classmate (thank you for that, Bakugo).

OH! Your friends! Maybe Hawks and Mirko can help them! Yes, that’s a great plan.

Peeling further back, you tilted your head up to look them in their eyes. You let out an airy chuckle, “As much as I enjoy the hug, I need some more of your help.”

They instantly lightened their steely grips. Not too much to let you slip away. Mirko held a smug look, as if knowing you’d come crawling back to her for her aid. SHe’s the only one who can provide for you properly, afterall. Don’t worry, let her handle everything for her darling. No task is too big for her. Hawks resembled that of a grinning puppy, excited and warm. Eager to perform any task for praise and treats. Yes! Anything you want, darling, they can provide! What do you need?

They didn’t supply you with a verbal answer, but the looks they carried spoke loud enough, so you continued, “My classmates. I don’t know what happened to my friends, but they’ve got the same thing the teachers do. I think everyone’s infected. I have to help them, but I don’t think I can do it alone.”

As soon as they heard you utter the word “friends”, their bliss was shot and struck the ground like a wounded songbird. Their brains shut off to stop the nonsense you were suggesting. Friends? You need people other than them?! And what’s worse, is you want them to help those idiots?! Last they checked, they were public enemy number one for making you run yourself ragged up and down those endless halls! No, that can’t be right. Those fools don’t deserve their help. Not for what they made you go through.

“No.” Rumi snapped with a frigid simper.

The rest of the sentence you were sputtering falters. You gaze up at the rabbit hero, “...What?”

With a second look-over, Mirko appears a lot scarier than she did only minutes beforehand. Have her eyes always been this clouded? Her unrelenting gaze exudes a darker inkling than when you’d faced her way. Rumi’s eyes stuck on you like gum bonded to the bottom of your shoe.

No. This wouldn’t happen again. They said they’d be better than this—better than them.

Hawks obnoxiously cleared his throat to brush the eerie vibe away from the floundering conversation, “Ehh…haha! What Rumi means is not right now. It’s too dangerous to go searching for your friends now. Finding help for them after the Purge settles down is the safest strategy.” Hawks smoothly saved Mirko’s ass with the perfect excuse, served up on a shining silver platter. You didn’t appreciate how obviously strained Hawks’ tone became at “friends”.

“Let’s get you somewhere safe. Preferably away from this shithole.” She mumbled the last portion, keeping the snark to her own chest, but her contempt for the institution was blatant. Mirko’s eyes were laced with flaming venom as she fleetingly paid attention to the concrete walls. A sneer broke out on her lips, as if just the idea of standing on top of the building was a sin itself.

“Ah… okay.” You tried to leave the hug again. They persisted.

“Mirko—,” Hawks’ voice twisted into a demanding tone. His blown out, puppy-like pupils cinched into vicious slits, staring down the woman.

“Hawks, I don’t want to hear it. Back off.” Mirko gnashed back at the blond. The two began an all out war against each other, both tugging against the other’s advances. A tug to the left, a drag to the right, both parties were unrelenting. Neither wanted to allow the victory of having you in their arms.

“You’re holding them too tightly!” Keigo whined.

“Well, you’re not holding them tight enough.” Mirko argued back. You’ve seen this before. It reminded you of two children fighting over who got to play with which toy, always bickering how the other was “doing it wrong”. It reminded you of Ochaco fighting the guys. It reminded you of Denki and Mina struggling over who got to hold you. Childish squabbles.

Liars, the lot of them. They didn’t want to help you. If they did before, not anymore. They’re infected, there’s no other answer for their behavior.

“Keigo, just stop it! You and I both know that you can’t protect them.” Mirko snarked. That caught the bird’s attention judging by the way his eyes dug into her, all emotion scrapped from his expression. A grim look stole the spot, one that told of violence and mayhem running rampant in behind his eyes. An expression usually reserved for the villains he so often made easy prey of. This is awful.

“And what is that supposed to mean, rabbit?” Hawks’ eyes looked wilder than before.

“I think you and I both know what I meant.” She snarked back, ruffling his feather figuratively and quite literally.

“Be honest with yourself. When was the last time you were able to save something that you actually cared about?” Mirko hatched a devilish plan. She took the chance of his loss of temper to clutch you against her. She took a couple spacious leaps back, creating a sizable distance between her friend turned enemy. Hawks plucked two giant feathers from his wingspan that sharped out into duo blades resembling two scimitars.

“I’m done being—,” just before Hawks could spiral off the deep end into whatever hell he had planned to put Mirko through, a disturbance crashed the party.

“Enough, you two.” A formidable voice shook from the shadows. Those few words are all it takes for the two beside you to back off from tearing out each other’s throats. Whoever it was had the ability to command total control of a room in an instant. You couldn’t see them, but you knew the voice came from the other side of the stairwell exit.

“Great,” Mirko scoffs, tilting her head to look the other way with a cross of her arms. You couldn’t tell if it was from irritation or the shame from being caught. Judging by her scowl, it’s probably the latter.

“Endeavor…how long have—,” Hawks sputtered out. You swivel your head to the gap at the birdman. No fucking way it’s the number one hero. He’s gotta be wrong. The number one pro hero showing up to participate in the Purge is unheard of. Guess you’d be wrong. Though, you suppose that even the number one gets a pass during today. It’s just jarring since All Might had not once in all his years of being the symbol of peace even be seen during the Purge hours. He probably just didn’t want to be caught up in a scandal with the news or social media if he were to ever be discovered converting to be a player of the Purge’s game.

Sure enough though, the one who rounds the corner is in fact Endeavor. He shut Hawks up with a simple raise of his palm and an unforgiving glare. The once cheery hawk tucks into himself and shields his frustration away from the number one.

The first thing that shows you the reality of the situation is his overwhelming stature. You severely underestimated the way this man takes up a room. Seeing him in TV interviews on the news and fighting against villains is one thing, but it is a completely different beast to be face-to-face with him stalking towards you. It made sense why he was deemed the top—with such a suffocating aura, it was hard to believe that any villain even tried to oppose the behemoth. You should know, you’ve met him before.

During your training with him alongside the boys, it had been quite the feat. You’d mostly done in-field training with the boys, but the one time you did have one-on-one training with the pro was unnerving, to say the least. Endeavor had watched your every move, his eyes never straying too far from where you’d displayed the extent of your Quirk’s usefulness. You knew you were as capable, even more so since you could control your emotions, as Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki. Let’s face it, all three of them had a tendency to act out far too irrationally due to their urges and feelings, and they weren’t shy about expressing it. Although, your self control put you in a favorable light with Endeavor, so it wasn’t strange that he gave more of his attention to you.

Instead of bickering and combating everything the pro said with a harsh glower like Katsuki had, you listened intently and gave Endeavor undivided attention. Instead of ignoring the man who actively tried to give pointers and choosing to walk faster ahead of the group like Shoto had, you hung back and asked questions about what Shoto had done wrong in his approach and how to improve his strategy. You became more agile, better aware of your surroundings, and able to predict some of the moves villains would try to throw at you. You understood that the opportunity that Shoto had given to you all with training under his father for the work-study was not something to be taken lightly. Was the man a little too much of a hardass for your taste? Yes. But he was not a pushover. He had valuable lessons to teach you all from experiences he’s faced during his years in the field. If you wanted to actually place in the hero charts one day, you knew you’d have to get past your own opinions on the man and try to cooperate.

If someone asked your opinion of Endeavor, they’d understand he’s not your favorite hero to grace the charts. You’d believed him to be startlingly cold for the fiery nature of his quirk. It was easy to say you’d originally thought him to be nothing but an ass with too hot of a head on his shoulders, and while that was still the truth more often than not, he had his moments of clarity. The media did have a knack for stringing up the moments of his ill temper caught on film and making them the headline of every social media platform. What you had learned during your trainings held at the crack of dawn was that he was extremely precise. There was never a lack of communication or any doubt held within his words whenever he instructed you. Swing a right hook into the dummy’s torso. Sweep your leg to the left to knock the opponent over. He was straight to the point and earnest in the compliments regarding your physical improvements.

He’d even let you spar against him one day. Endeavor had taken the four of you and one of his many sidekicks, Burnin, to the rooftop during one of the few freetimes you’d actually had. He asked you to step across from him and get into your fighting position. He instructed no quirks be used, that it be purely a hand-to-hand combat session that balanced skill and strength together. With Burnin as the referee, you’d begun. He thankfully didn’t go easy on you as he views not giving his all into any task as a “halfass lazy excuse”, so you’d fight with your entire being against Endeavor. He educated the four of you through commentating on all of the things you did wrong; how you’d left yourself open to a couple of jabs from him, turned your back to him often enough that he’d seized an opportunity to lunge and knock you over, and such. Though you were outmatched in a number of categories, you soon understood why he was putting you to this impossible challenge. Enji wanted you to get creative with your tactics to take down your foe. You needed to outwit his strength.

With the newfound spark of inspiration, you struck. You made a move imitating that of one you’d tried against him earlier. A simple left hook. He knew he could easily deflect the punch, so he took the bait. You’d noticed before that he was much more sturdy with his right side, which left room for error on his left, so you took the chance. You sidestepped into his peripheral and closed in behind him. You kicked in the back of his right knee, forcing him to stumble to the ground. You knew you couldn’t tackle the man over from this position, nor could you keep him pinned there due to how much force you had to use to kick his knee alone, so you went with the quickest option. You needed to hit a weak point, but since his body was covered in mostly muscle, you only had a few options. Since kicking him in the groin seemed like too cruel for a simple sparring session, the spots above his neck would have to do. You jumped up onto his back, shimmied up enough to hang onto his shoulder, and threw a hard punch right into his throat.

You left him choking on his air and wheezing. He grasped at his neck, steadying himself on his other arm. Leaving him no hands to defend against your assault. You then shoved your hands into his hair, pulled on the strands tightly, and swung your body forward over the man’s shoulder. You let gravity handle the rest. Your body weight pulled his unstable torso forward and he hit the ground with a hefty SMACK! You bent your knees to land sturdily on the ground with minimal impact to your footing and let his face take the brunt of the fall. You then placed your knee hard on the middle of his shoulder blades to pin him and Burnin deemed the match completed with an impressed grin lilting on her face. Admittedly, for the rest of that day, you gloated the pride you felt at taking down the mountain of a man a little too obviously.

You knew that day he most likely wanted to make an example out of you when he presumed you wouldn’t win the fight, but you’d made sure he understood not to fuck around with you or your generosity again.

Zooming back to the present, you caught his eyes goring a hole right through you. Brilliant aqua blue irises stuck out like a sore thumb against his smoldering flames. No matter how much Shoto tried to deny the fact, he truly was Endeavor’s child. That striking blue color kept locked down within the Endeavor lineage and fiery red hair that draped over half of his head was unmistakable. Features that, however much wasted on the shitty attitude the man possessed, would make many and most fall head-over-heels for their stunning effect. Though, in your opinion, Shoto wore the beauty better.

Enji’s gaze was harsh towards you, but it was kind compared to the one he shot at Mirko’s arm wrapped around you. Perceptive, the woman held you closer, as if trying to defy his silent demand of releasing you. She was dead set on not going down without a fight. Before she could hope for one to begin, Hawks laid a hand on her shoulder as a soft hint to not involve you in Endeavor’s unrivaled wrath. Mirko knew he was right. Dammit it all. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she relented, back off of you. She left you to fend for yourself against the beast, cast you aside to the big bad wolf who wouldn’t spare you. It reminded you of the tale of Odysseus facing off with Polyphemus—only you were unarmed and lacking a foolproof plan of escape and this giant won’t allow arrogance to be his downfall yet again like the monster from the epic had.

Finally, Endeavor was right in front of you. If you had any bravery left from the night, it vanished wholly with him staring you down. Endeavor hardly even spared a tilt of his head to gaze down upon you, opting to stare through a half-lidded examination. The only indication that he was human and not some freaky Terminator cyborg from the future coming to hunt you down was the ever-present scowl he’s so fond of sharing.

Without ever taking his sight off of you, he glowered dryly to an unidentified listener, “Why are they scratched up?” You see now the question is not for you, rather it's dedicated to the duo in charge of you. You peered down to see what he was referring to, only now understanding what he meant from the bruises beginning to bloom along your wrists and the miniscule scratches littering your forearms and neckline. None of them were deep enough to lance more than a couple drops of blood, but they were still oozing fresh from the night’s escapades.

“That wasn’t from us! The students were dragging them back-and-forth between the halls before the teachers got a hold of them. You know how rough kids are with their toys.” Hawks quickly presented to the man. Smooth as ever. He strolled over to Endeavor to lean his elbow against the man’s bulky side, as if casually resting against an alleyway’s grimy brick wall. Although, with how stocky the pro was, you’re sure the feeling was probably akin. You watched Endeavor roll his eyes at the blond.

“I’m sure hurling them through a window had nothing to do with the scratches.” Endeavor’s sarcasm hung heavy in the air like too much icing on a dry piece of cake. It was obvious that his comedic side hadn’t been brushed up on in awhile. He took the chance to use an unexpected gentleness to grasp your forearm and hold up the damaged skin to the duo as all the evidence he needed. You, not taking too kindly to being an item for presentation, pulled your arm away from him and held it close. Endeavor shot you a look of disappointment, but held in the trembling Armageddon he had planned. Hawks gave a weak chuckle, no doubt scrounging for a way to veer the conversation off them scaling the side of a building with you.

Endeavor decided to spare you for now, choosing to cross his arms and acknowledge only Hawks, “What’s their status? Who in the school is infected? How many are after them?”

You were starting to get sick of him completely ignoring the fact that you had your own voice to speak for your own wellbeing. “You know I can speak for myself, right? Or have you forgotten that since we last hung out.” Hawks shot you a look that yelled “shut up” like a parent two seconds away from scolding their child who is screaming in public. You didn’t cower. You pressed on to challenge Endeavor’s authority.

“I’m aware. But I understand if I speak to you, you’ll probably end up whining like a child to me. Wasting my time.” Endeavor threw no more than a half-hearted stern crinkle of his brows, and you pretty much could no longer hold back the bubbling anger swelling up in your chest.

“Excuse me! It’s not ‘whining’, it’s called ‘being a sane person with reasonable concerns’. Also, no shit I would complain! Your little underlings were literally just fighting over who was going to kidnap me! That is a perfect reason to yell.” You waltzed your way in front of him to be a human barrier to get in the way of his sight being fixated on Hawks. You will make yourself heard against this bully. Screw it if he trained you, you don’t just ignore someone you’re actively talking about when they are right in front of you! It’s incredibly rude.

“I don’t have time for this,” Endeavor rubbed temples with one hand. You wanted to rip his head off and shout from the rooftops into his eardrums. Maybe that would get your point through his thick skull.

“Wow. First of all, fuck you,” That certainly caught his attention. His head snapped to look down at your defiance. His eyes bore that same look he’d struck Mirko’s arm with before. Boiling hysteria and bitterness. Even though you physically felt the warmth of his internal temperature rise, and you recognized the panic Hawks held in his gob-smacked expression, you couldn’t stop your big mouth from prattling on. Shoto probably would have laughed his ass off at your opposition to his father. That small support in the back of your mind made your confidence soar.

“Second of all, you can’t seriously think that I am going to be chill with anything you wei—,” you couldn’t finish your sentence before you were all of the sudden no longer touching the roof. The collar of your shirt had been snatched by Endeavor’s strong hand with no warning and hoisted high. You were now dangling limply a few feet off the ground. Keigo was squawking figuratively and literally, yanking on Endeavor’s arm to lower the leverage he held your body at. Rumi took a turn for the worst. Threats cranked out of her mouth as she reared up to kick him as hard as she could square in an area where the sun didn't shine. Maybe give him a taste of his own brutality. With an unyielding and unforgiving hold, he lifted you even higher with no strenuous effort. You yelped, swinging and writhing around to try escaping the brute strength of your foe. He brought you in close to look at you eye-to-eye, making sure your darting gaze has nowhere to turn to other than locking in to meet his own icy pair.

“You will not speak to me like that again. Your attitude might be cute to the rest of these weak links, but I won’t let it go without correction. You show me respect, or we will both have to go through a punishment for you that neither of us will enjoy. This is your first and final warning.” Every word was uttered with nothing but truth. No twist of a joke in his tone, no shift in expression, nothing. Only a foreboding aura and the gravely tone that demanded full cooperation.

Every snappy response died on your tongue. You wanted to fight back, to sass all of them more, to tell him exactly what you thought of him to his stupid, scary face—but nothing came. You felt tears line your waterline, and you couldn’t despise them more. Crying when faced with any kind of opposition…what kind of hero does that make you? You couldn’t explain why your mind drifted to Midoriya in this moment when all hope was lost.

You suppose it’s because you recall a day when the boy had tried to deny his waterworks and his friends carried his tears with grace and love. Deku had been sent off to his work-study with the man he’d called ‘Sir Nighteye’. You didn’t know much about the man, in all honesty, but you did know that one of the strongest students at UA had been training underneath him for some time. The sweet boy named Mirio who had come to meet your class and then single handedly swept you all in a twenty-to-one match. He was quite impressive, so the fact that Midoriya had been taken on to work alongside him was quite the honor!

However, Midoriya came back rather…startled, to say the least. He hardly participated in conversations held around him, didn’t speak up during the lectures, and could barely choke down the food placed in front of him either. His eyes were clouded, a scrunched up twist pulled on his eyebrows like he was stuck in a maze of his own thoughts. He looked far into the distance yet couldn’t process what was in front of him. It was scary. Where did the boy always eager to learn and help everyone drift off to? You wanted him back.

The situation came to a head one day at lunch when you were sitting across from the green-haired boy, Iida, and Shoto. You’d all tucked into your meals when you noticed Midoriya had no intention of even attempting to stomach the spread. Shoto had shockingly tried to crack a very dry joke, and that seemed to wake the distant boy. After brushing off all of your concerns for the nth time, Iida finally challenged Deku’s false reassurance. He’d offered an ear to listen to the boy’s troubles. A simple gesture, most would assume, but it hit the boy hard. Midoriya had tried to keep it in, but the boy just couldn’t hold back his emotions—a fact of which you admired to this day. He tried to claim that heroes don’t cry while he actively swiped away the drips trailing from his evergreen eyes, but you watched as Iida and Shoto shut down that statement quickly. It’s such an easy thing to say but a hard skill to execute. Of course heroes cry! Anyone who doesn’t when facing the nightmarish terrors that they do on a daily basis is lying or too stone cold to be considered human.

You watched as the boys bonded over the spilt emotions and a grin overtook your face the entire rest of the day. No one at that table knew what Deku was going through with poor Eri and the vile Overhaul situation. You hadn’t a clue the true reason Iida had extended his hand to the shaken boy that day. But it didn’t matter. Izuku let his tears and strength glow bright that day. Tears are a symbol of actually giving a shit in this world. Tears you shed are the wordless tale you share with the world. Speaking a thousand words in all different orders. A labyrinth that can be solved or failed, depending on how your own soul understands the riddle. You’re still scouring that maze to comprehend your own salty snivels.

“Understood?” The three heroes stilled, waiting for your response. Wordlessly, you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling, looking away from the man to not give the satisfaction of his actions actually scaring you, and nodded. He gave a satisfied grunt of contempt and lowered you back down to the cement. Hawks flitted over to your side, checking you over. Mirko didn’t exactly come running to you but she did make a point of standing in between Endeavor and you.

“You’ll see why we must do this soon, (Y/N). This life is just too risky for someone like you,” he looked like he wanted to say more to you, but held his tongue. You wished he’d just crawl back to whatever shithole he climbed out of and fester there for the atrocious attempt at playing the “comforting” father role.

He meant it, you know. Enji sees you choose to not look beyond his past. Much like his sons. Not that he can blame any of you. But, for some reason, the abandonment of trust hurt more from you than it did Shoto.

Enji could tell you how many sidekicks he’s experienced come and go throughout his career. Does he remember the plebeians' names? No. Why should he? They left, so that must mean they didn’t meet his standards. No big deal, another will take their place eventually. It’s not his job to care about them or to remember them. However, he does remember you quite well. Truthfully, much to your surprise, before even your work-study together.

The first time he’d even sparred you a passing glance was during the Sports Festival in your first year. Truthfully, he didn’t give a single damn about any students in the arena other than his son. Enji really only went to see if Shoto would finally stop this little rebellion of his by only using that wretched ice his doe-eyed wife blessed their son with. He wanted to see Shoto crack under the pressure and give in—finally admit that the fire portion of his power was the stronger, more reliable half. He managed in his obsession to give some half-assed attention to the other one-on-one duels.

One of the fights he watched over was you against the ditzy girl from the Support Department, Mei something. Initially, he was going to walk away at such an uninteresting sounding fight, but he chose to linger. He saw you willingly agree to Mei flaunting her inventions to prospective buyers by using you as the demonstration device. You’d effortlessly almost danced around her gadgets’ tactics; playing the part of challenging foe, but never let her pin you in a dicey position. You’d ended the fight by running her off the boundary line before time ran out, and both of you shared a hug as you parted ways—both satisfied with you being the victor moving forward in the chain of fights and her having interested eyes witnessing her skill. Normally, a blatant show of mutual benefit would have him running for the hills. That wasn’t a fight, neither of you put any effort into crushing your opponent to a pulp, which is what a real show of power was to his image of winning. Yet, he stayed. Not to watch anything that pink girl offered, only examining you bounce around with both your own strength and the might of your quirk. He wanted you to slip up. He wanted you to make a mistake so he could justify ditching the patetic battle, but you never did. You stayed light on your feet and still struck at your opponent a few times to show examples of the defense her “babies” could provide to heroes.

Intriguing, is all he thought. He then stood and sauntered off until the second round.

The second round he watched Shoto, not as easily as he had hoped, defeat Midoriya. While he was filled with both gratification at Shoto caving into his carnal fire and enragement at that Izuku pest for giving his son the unwavering support to defy his hold over his son, he hardly realized your next battle had begun. It was against the vine girl from the Class B—first losers, rather, to him—Ibara. Unlike Mei’s challenge, you basically wiped the floor with the poor girl. You shot around the court, darting like a bat through an inky full-mooned sky, making sure to not give Ibara a chance to get the one up on you. You hardly let her breathe during the showdown, striking at her again and again from all angles. She was safe nowhere, even when hidden behind the viney defensive walls sprouting from her hair. You’d ended it neat and clean with a swift shot of your quirk, landing her out of the arena. Triumphant, you’d moved up again, but you still remained humble while helping Ibara off of the ground with a bright smile and gifted her a sincere handshake. You’d no doubt made a spectacle of yourself to the crowd and everyone watching at home, the loud cheer of encouragement erupting across the venue said just as much. Enji even hashed out a couple of light claps for your impressive display.

Your last battle was the nail in the coffin for Endeavor. You were finally fighting against his son. Of course, he was obviously rooting for Shoto to crush you, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to a nail-biting fight. He got just that. You two dove for each other—ice flung around the court in jagged peaks with you racing around the boy and firing off precisely aimed jabs of your own quirk. Blustering rushes of glacial wind flushed across the landscape. You two waltzed around in a deadly dance of effort and skill. You’d make sure Shoto knew that you weren’t to be cast aside like overlooked trash. You had grit, a will to make a name for yourself in the competitive world of heroes. You managed to last around two minutes in the ring together, which is phenomenal, considering his other battles didn’t last more than a handful of seconds. In the end, Shoto had been the victor when he caught you off guard by using his ice on the floor. He swiftly created a haphazard ice rink and slid you out of bounds. You were too exhausted from abusing your quirk so much that afternoon against your other opponents that you couldn’t stop your body from spinning out. Enji didn’t miss the way Shoto practically dashed over to your side, helped you stand up, and offered his arm for you to hold as you shakily shuffled off the slick floor to a safer spot.

Though you lost, he hadn’t forgotten how you gave his son a run for his money. You were very capable. Which is why he didn’t hesitate allowing you to become a work-study of his under the guise of helping you and your other friends out. This plan he has is not only for the benefit of his own gains, but for Shoto’s as well. He knows his son cares for you, but he has to help you see that after all of the Purge nonsense. You two would be perfect together—the perfect marriage of quirks. Of course, he tells himself that he’s not in this for the sole reason of having another powerful quirk added to his ranks. But it certainly helps him like you more.

You kept your eyes lowered, the lingering sting of defeat simmering behind your eyes and in your heart. You wanted to have an unwavering confidence like some of your classmates. You would never say this to Bakugou, but you truly did admire his “never back down” style. You had seen countless times how he barked in the faces of higher-ups, challenging their morals, their reasons for becoming heroes, and plans. It was as if he never agreed with anything they presented. The blond always had to shove his opinion into every decision made. You wanted to stare Endeavor straight in the eye as you stomped on his foot and make him see what you really thought of all their bullshit. But you couldn’t. You didn’t have it in you to ignore his authority. Guess that’s why you’re still stuck up here on this stupid roof with people you don’t want to be around, huh?

Hawks brushed back your hair, trying to examine your face for distress or injury, but all he could see was you not meeting his gaze. He wants to tell you he knows firsthand how hard this decision is—hell, even he has doubts relying on Endeavor and Mirko. He wants to say he’d be able to make this escape on his own with you. Hide you away alone so no one else has any clue where you are. That sounds like paradise to him. Alas, with so many high profiles after you now, there isn’t a chance of him making it out with his head. If he broke the agreement he resentfully made with the two, then others would certainly turn against him.

Later. He’ll strike later. Don’t you see? That’s why he’s playing the perfect little stepping stool. No one deserves you but him—not even his idol. His hero. He’ll make sure you know that too by the end of this night. Only a little longer of bearing the pretending and game of dress up, then he’ll slip away with you in tow.

“Hawks.” You heard Endeavor call out for the winged man. Daddy’s calling.

Hawks tilted your chin up so you were forced to look into his amber glow, and offered a caring smile. He hoped you could see the promise behind his eyes. The disgust masked behind a beaming smile was perfected for meeting delusional strangers and other worthless heroes. He gave Endeavor that smile, but not to you. You hoped the scowl you shot ripped his lungs out and left them rotting in a pile of maggot-riddled filth. How dare he give you such a carefree look after telling you he was going to steal away your entire life.

After Hawks walked over to converse with Endeavor, Mirko closed in. Not much was said between you two, but she did bump her hip against yours to knock you out of your own head. You turned to give her an offensive side eye, but she only fronted an unbothered look. You went to ignore her again, turning to face towards the men. However, you didn’t get far as she decided to make her personal mission to annoy you. You felt a gentle poke into your side, ticklish and fleeting. You jumped, falling for the trap and glaring at her again. This time, she had a mild grin on her face. It was obvious your displeasure fueled her joy.

“You’re cute when you’re trying to look mad,” she snorted, leaning back on her heels. She couldn’t stop looking at you, and you saw her stare through your peripheral.

You scoffed, “Trying?” You faced forward to deny her yearning for your gaze.

“Of course. I’ve seen mad before, and you’re not at that level. You’re just…peeved. Disgruntled. Ew, no, that word is too ugly to describe you.” Mirko shook her head and stuck her tongue out at the mention of the synonym. You took a deep breath and settled in to focus on the men discussing back and forth.

She circled you like a shark lunging on for her prey, but you simply turned your head the opposite direction of where she was to avoid the confrontation.

“Where you going, grumpy~?” Mirko easily caught on to your aversion. You noticed how her grin truly did resemble something shark-like. The thought crossed your mind if she was really half-bunny, or actually some predator in disguise masking the innocence of a rabbit. A wolf in sheep’s clothing

“I’m actually very interested in that bird over there. Would you look at that, it’s pretty far away.” You apathetically mused at the distant dot in the sky. You brushed her prodding away to daze off into the horizon, Mirko’s words slowly being tossed into the heaping bin of memories you wouldn’t document in your brain. Gazing across the landscape of the dark treeline surrounding UA and the few standing buildings nearby, your eyes scanning the moonlit metal of the nearby rooftops. But something else glistening on the roof caught your eye too. Something moving.

You watched it shift and reflect the moon’s rays from across the neighboring rooftop. You squinted, trying to catch exactly what was skulking around in the dark, but it strayed just beyond your sight. Whatever it was, it wanted to stay hidden.

“Absolutely not.” Endeavor’s thunderous voice startled you from your scouting. Hawks turned his head to see if you had noticed the man’s tantrum—no shit you’d notice that barbaric yell from the brute—and, in seeing your alarm, sighed. He scooted closer to the mammoth of a man, turning his back to you. You strained your ears to hear the mumbling.

“You don’t have to tell me it’s not ideal—I know that—but what other choice do you think we have?” Was all you could hear before Hawks’ voice became too faint to make out comprehensible words.

You then remembered your little “friend” in the shadows. You shot your head back to its previous position to confront the adversary. Nothing. You searched and searched the silent building, but nothing. You wanted to tell yourself that it was just your mind playing tricks in the dark, but on tonight of all nights, you knew better than to downplay your concern.

Finally acknowledging Mirko, you questioned her, “Do you see anything on that roof over there?”

She gave you an unimpressed deadpan, “Seriously? You're trying the ‘oh my gosh, what’s that over there!’ trick?”

“Wha—no!” You looked offended, but you felt a cold sweat on the side of your forehead. Inside, you knew you’d probably have tried that trick sooner rather than later, and you've got to hand it to her. She knows you well.

Before you could try to explain your reasoning, a raging flame shot to strike Hawks and Endeavor.

Miraculously, Hawks’ reflexes were quick enough to shove Endeavor and himself out of the way of the surprise attack before someone was set ablaze. The smell of burning hair permeated the area although, and you looked over to catch a glimpse of a portion of Hawks’ right wing being singed into charred black wisps. Mirko reacted nearly faster than Hawks did, grabbing your waist and maneuvering you back from the fire. It was you and Mirko parted from Hawks and Endeavor far on the opposite side of the roof.

“What the hell?” Mirko grit her teeth at the attack. Psychos getting in the way of her time with you, what a joke. Such a waste of time. She just wants to run off and find somewhere to keep you for the rest of the Purge, yet these shitty obstacles just can’t seem to get enough of you. She was going to rip them limb from limb for taking her attention off of you.

You stood with no complaint in her arms, not minding her taking the lead of your protection. You still couldn’t see who caused the disruption, but you would soon wonder no longer.

“You’re slow today, Endeavor. What? Off your game or something?” A seedy voice echoed across the way. Male, deep, commanding. You watched as the foe came to stand at the edge of the railing. Your eyes dilated at the sight. Your breath caught in your throat. You’d only cared to remember this man as the one who, with the rest of his party, ruined your training camp over the summer and kidnapped your classmate, Bakugou.

You’re shot into the past as you recount that horrible night. It had been such a great start to the day. You’d been working hard with all of your friends, aiming to better improve the longevity and resilience of all your quirks. You’d nearly tuckered yourselves out when the hero Pixie-Bob said you all had one more challenge to face before bed. The Test of Courage. It began as traditionally as any silly game teenagers played in the dark did. Then it all came crashing down at the faint, then quickly overwhelming, scent of smoke. You remember being there in that midnight-black forest, you remembered how excited you’d been at the started of that stupid game you’d agreed to play, you remember the fire that infested the trees and burnt the pretty flowers and bushes to wisps of charcoal ash, you remembered the terror and fear of being lost in said woods before Deku found you wandering alone. You remember locking eyes with the man who stoked the fires. A spearing turquoise. You’d seen a blue so vibrant like that only once before. You’d found that hypnotic color in Shoto’s left eye. Though, Shoto was a much kinder soul than the monster these captivating eyes were attached to.

In the present, you’re wrung back into that same terror as you watched his black leather trench coat gently sway in the breeze, a glinting bicep catching your eye. The metal cuffs shone from the full light of the moon along with the many staples running up and down the sleeves. He was too far away to discern an exact facial expression, but you could blatantly see the large patch of marred, burned flesh dominating the lower half of his face. The leathery substance was roughly connected to what remained of his skin untouched by flame, stitched up with bloody staples. The way it was sutured made his face forever appear as if strung upwards to mimic a sickening Cheshire grin. You wanted to say he was only generally looking around the roof, but you knew better. The villain was practically drilling daggers into you with how much he was staring. No, you couldn’t just say he was any old random villain; you knew his name. Dabi.

More bodies moved out from behind him to occupy the opposing roof. All you heard from them was laughter and unflattering comments nagged at the pro heroes.

“Wow, they’re even cuter this close~! Much better than in the crappy photos you guys took, Shiggy~,” A much higher pitched voice exhaled in an almost loving sigh. Their blonde hair was cinched up in two tangled space buns, but the mess was an intentional look. The loose strands were slicked into spikes. Cutesy and feminine, a happy aura surrounded her, but you knew better. She draped herself over the railing as if in her own ditzy world. You would have believed it was a fainting couch with how dramatically she had laid over the scenery. Much like Dabi, the girl couldn’t take her gaze off of you, but she made her presence known.

“Hiiii, (N/N)~~! Are the big, scary pro heroes getting in the way again? Don’t worry, cutie! I’ll take care of ‘em, hehe~!” Himiko Toga, you believe that’s what Aizawa said her name was, called out to you like she was the Romeo to your Juilet. You’re sure she believed that too. You’d heard Ochaco talk about her to you guys after the training camp. She told you about how the girl tackled Tsuyu and used these specialized needles to draw out blood from her victims. Uraraka experienced the threat head on as the girl had jammed one of her needles straight into her thigh with little apprehension.

Uraraka told you how obsessed the girl was with blood, a crazed look in her eye when the red substance came about. She said she loved her, loved her so much that she wanted to turn into her! Deku even chimed in and said the girl shouted to him delusional fantasies of wanting him to be her boyfriend. At the time, all you could do was shiver and brush off the fear the conversation brought by claiming she was “just another crazed lunatic”. Well, now that the girl is staring you down with her own redden irises, you felt your tongue shrivel up in your throat.

“Bloodied and carved up is the only way any of these nobody pro heroes could ever look cute. Though, the one daring to hold onto my darling definitely won’t be leaving here alive.” She sneered, completely flipping her personality into one of seething hate and disgust when she gazed upon Mirko. Toga’s rage could be felt from a mile away, and you felt Mirko hold onto you tighter.

“Toga, knock it off,” the green lizard man with the draping red scarf hollered at her, “we’ve got a job to do.” Though it was hard to see, you noticed the way his eyes would drift to you and quickly look away. Like he was nervous. Shy? The large clump of weapons taped and glued together as his arsenal seemed deadly but ineffective all in one. However, he moved rather quickly on his feet despite the added weight.

“Wow, such a beauty! Ugh, what an attention-seeker!” The same voice shouted two opposing sentences from across the way. You looked over and saw a man wearing a black and gray spandex suit, clutching the railing while waving his arm around. After yelling, it looked like one of his arms had a mind of its own as it grabbed his neck. It appeared to be he was trying to strangle himself with one hand, while the other hand sprung into action to stop the strangling. It was an odd battle of each arm trying to wrestle each other, as his head kept whipping back and forth shouting insults at…himself? You’re not entirely sure what’s going on there, but you hope he won’t start to try injuring himself with weapons next.

“Hmm, I agree with your first sentence, Twice. Do try to not scare our guest away so soon.” A regal tone stood out through the other members’ silliness. You wonder how much backup did these guys bring as a tall figure in a creamsicle colored jacket walked to the edge of the railing. His height was enhanced with a dark brown top hat he donned and the fancy cane held at his side. The most notable feature of his was the mask he hid behind. Marble man. You couldn’t remember his name, but you certainly remembered the way he trapped Tokoyami and Bakugou when he tried to run away with them in his grasp. You felt bubbling heat rise in your chest. Betrayal and resentment all wrapped into one swirl of hurt leaving a suffocating dead weight on your chest.

“Dabi, keep your shit under control or go back to the base. Get your asses moving. We’re here to take and leave, so don’t fuck this up for me.” An unseen voice was heard from further back on the roof. However, whoever it was got the lot of them hurrying off. Groaned complaints and witty remarks were heard, mostly from the black-haired male, but they soon fizzled out. You kept looking for where they were going, but soon you couldn’t see anyone anymore. It was silent yet again.

“Sorry, darling, but we don’t have time to stay and find out what happens next.” That is all Mirko said to you before she bent down to pull you up into her arms. Though, she didn’t move that far.

“MIRKO, BEHIND!” You heard Endeavor yell out to the woman in concern. You heard it before you saw it. A goopy, unnatural, burbling sound came from behind your form. You didn’t have a chance to turn around before a platform leather boot kicked Mirko’s crouched body away with little effort. She skidded across the cement, nearly all the way back to where Hawks and Endeavor were standing. You wanted to call out for her, ask if she was okay. As much as you’d felt unapologetic rage for how they’d decided to take your life away from you, you still cared about them. You probably gave them too much of your heart, but they’re still your mentors. The people you've looked up to for years in your training to become a hero. Right now, you didn’t want to be alone, as much as you’d begged for it in your mind tonight. Not with the threat of the League of Villains being what you’d have to face on your own.

You heard a sinister giggle from over your shoulder, and felt a calloused hand grasp your shoulder. Without warning, the memories you’d vaulted away with lock and key of the horrible training camp incident came flooding back with greater force than before.

That night, Izuku had found you. Tears dripped down your face as you hacked up a lung from the smoke in the air. If he’d found you any later, you’d probably have been passed out from the lack of oxygen. You ran alongside him, trying to find your way back to the rest of the class, toward any sign of a familiar face. After fleeing, you’d soon found the little boy who originally came with the Wild Wild Pussycats, Kota, with a villain in tow. Deku fought against the mammoth of a man who went by Muscular while you protected Kota from the falling rubble and terrain. After nearly getting thrown a million miles away, Izuku finally got the upperhand on the man, and knocked out the behemoth villain. You fled into the forest again, and after dropping Kota off with Mr. Aizawa and fending off Spinner to save Mandalay, you soon find Shoji and Tokoyami. However, Tokoyami could have been in better shape, as he was now overtaken by Dark Shadow’s power. Shoji explained that he and Tokoyami were attacked by a villain named Moonfish, which resulted in Tokoyami trying to use Dark Shadow to protect them, but Dark Shadow’s desire to take the reins was too great. Dark Shadow was destroying the forest in their rage, but Izuku was quick on his feet to think of using Dark Shadow to your advantage to help protect Bakugou from the villains as well.

You three lead Dark Shadow through the woods, and end up running into Bakugou and Todoroki who are facing off against the villain who tried to attack Shoji and Tokoyami before. Dark Shadow descended and made easy work of clobbering Moonfish, and the boys used their fiery quirks to release Tokoyami from Dark Shadow’s control. All of you hurried off in the direction of the facility, running into Tsuyu and Ochaco who’d been fighting off Himiko before she fled, and your large group prepared to get back safely as “Bakugou Protection Squad”. You didn’t get far as you finally noticed that Bakugou and Tokoyami were missing. The marble guy revealed himself and the League’s plan to take the boys hostage. He flew off, but the girls helped you, Shoto, Shoji, and Izuku fly to catch up to the villain.

You tackled Compress out of the sky, and fended off Twice alongside Shoto when the League fought against you. As you tried to run off as Shoji had yelled for you and Shoto to do, the warp user, Kurogiri, had stopped your escape. When Compress had shown the marbles of your friends being trapped, you saw red. You couldn’t let them be taken, you just couldn’t. It was the miracle that Aoyama’s precise shot of his Naval Laser to Compress’ face that gave you the chance you needed to save the boys.

Shoji had successfully nabbed Tokoyami’s marble, and now it was up to Shoto and you grab Bakugou’s. You were so close, just inches away, before he was ripped from you again. It was the scarred hands of the fire user that flooded your vision. You fell to the ground, empty-handed and desperately looking up at the man searching for any weakness in his grasp to steal the tiny blue-tinted glass ball from him. But it was too late.

It was an extra bit of torture—one that Dabi made sure you guys knew was on purpose—to release Bakugou from the marble so he could watch your failure. You saw the fear swimming in his red irises as he looked at you, the stiffness in his stance, the slight shake of his hands. He looked so…helpless. You’d never seen the boy in such a state of despair before. It was haunting. You stood on shaky fawn-like legs, ready to tear that villain apart with your bare hands, no Quirk needed. You wanted to make him pay for the suffering he put not only your class, but what he put everyone at the camp through tonight. But you were stopped with a gentle embrace.

Shoto had looped his arms around your midsection in a cage. You twisted back to yell at him to let you go, to let you save your friend, but his gaze gave his answer to your plea. He knew you couldn’t win. One eye filled with a harsh, cold steel of an unforgiving bind and the other swimming with a depth that rivaled even the ocean’s own fullness, you knew he wouldn’t let you go. You thrashed and screamed against Shoto, not believing you wouldn’t come out victorious in this suicide mission. You unconsciously looked at Bakugou for aid, and it was a cruel reminder that he could save you no more. Both of you being held against your will, both of you screaming for help—one screaming bloody murder, one silent as a moonless night. The savior trying to go where the victim was being taken, but the victim commanding them to stay behind.

You’ll never forget the emptiness after Bakugou was fully snatched through the portal. You’ll never forget collapsing to the dirt beside Deku, Shoto’s arm still chained tightly around your middle, and wailing your heart out.

You’ll never forgive the satisfied gleam in that evil man’s eye. Never.

Except it wasn’t Dabi’s hand this time. You looked at the pale flesh, graying and roughed from years of neglect and self hate. The fingernails were chipped and appeared to be chewed with anxiety-ridden coping. Beneath the nails looked like they’d been clawing at a cement wall, dried blood caked underneath the unmanicured bits. The twitching pinky finger dangling frivolously above the target of your shoulder made your blood run cold.

“Miss me?” Tomura Shigaraki mumbled into your ear with a snarl. You’re sure you were shaking, but you couldn’t feel anything other than the stuttery breaths you took in and out. You could only focus on the lone finger judging the worth of your entire life. One movement too erratic and you’re nothing more than a pile of ash sitting in his rotten hands. You saw Endeavor’s mouth moving, he was definitely addressing the villain, but neither of you were paying attention to the fuming man.

“Staying to chat would be fun, but I think I’ll let them do the talking for me. I would rather spend my breath talking to (Y/N) than you losers.” Shigaraki rolled his eyes. He guided you to step aside, and you reluctantly shifted. A sloshing sounded as Kurogiri’s portal grew to be much larger. Once the portal stretched high enough, a figure swished through. They shouldn’t be here. How can they get onto UA’s premises? Doesn’t this place have some kind of security measure to protect the kids, damnit?!

As if he could read your mind, he chuckled to himself, “So nice that UA’s defenses are down for the Purge. So much easier to ransack this place when I can toss a couple of these guys onto the front lawn. Makes this boss fight a clean sweep.” Out from the portal stepped a massive monster you’d come to know as one of Shigaraki’s playthings, a Nomu.

You’d seen a couple before, namely at the USJ when All Might defeated the beast nearly single-handedly and during the time you saved Bakugou from the League and All for One, but you had never been so close that you could reach out and touch it. As it lumbered past you, you could almost taste the horrifying aura it carried. The violence just itching to break out of its skin. Its body was barely keeping the violence it desires at bay. It was easy to tell how badly the creature wanted to claw the heroes to shreds, the short gasp-like breaths it took, and the stomach-turning visual of its exposed brain and nerve endings. Its unblinking eyes held no emotion. No malice, no joy. Nothing. You’d think it was an impressively realistic Halloween animatronic if it hadn’t just shambled past you.

Then, as if this situation couldn’t get any better, a second one appeared from beyond the portal. A carbon-copy of the first, just as horrifying, just as deadly. Then a third. Three of those monstrosities stood in front of you like an impenetrable wall. The barrier of such an evil force left you feeling light headed. This can’t be happening.

“Have fun, heroes! Don’t come looking for them, unless you’re looking to free up some space on the Hero Billboard Chart. Would be a shame if some of Japan’s finest didn’t make it through the Purge, huh?” Shigaraki called out to them with a scratchy cackle. You watched the three pros prep their Quirks and bodies for the fight to come, you then heard banging from the doors of the rooftop. The doors must have been locked as you heard a hell of a ruckus behind it. Though it was a multitude of voices, deep and high pitched, and lots of them. You wondered who it could be. Your teachers? Had they chased after the pros and were intent on winning you back? Or could it be…

Oh no.

Wait. They shouldn't come up here. Please. Not with these things here, not now. The Nomus had no remorse, no moral compass. They’d kill your classmates right where they stood.

“No…wait, my friends are still here. Please—,” this was the only sliver of argument that you posed against Shigaraki, with a shaking lip and a strip of silver tears lining your lower lash line. He revealed in your fear to oppose him.

“Really? Hmm. Perfect.” Shigaraki smiled a repulsive grin at you, his wrinkled red and slightly pink eyes filled with more bloodlust than you’ve known before. He began pulling you back by the shoulder, but you chose to fight. Yanking yourself forward before a different set of hands gripped your arms, your other shoulder, and your waist. You wrung your body left and right, and you felt closer to Bakugou than you ever have before. Trapped and alone, with no foreseeable aid.

Doors banged and the yelling grew louder.

Slimy drool dripped from the blood-thirst Nomus’ mouths onto the cement floor. Frothed mouths itching to latch onto body parts and tear them off.

Hawks, Mirko, and Endeavor had looks of pure panic as they could only watch you getting dragged away. Not because of the threat of the Nomus, but because they were losing you yet again.

Your screams for mercy were only acknowledged by a calloused grasp, minus the pinky, clamping over your mouth.

And just like that, you were gone.

~ To Be Continued… ~

Far away from the light of the outside world, a dark figure resided in the shadows. A large television took up nearly the entire landscape of their wall, illuminating their body with its harsh glow. A smirk lined their lips, entertained with the events unfolding on that fateful rooftop. Multiple cameras showed all angles of the fight, of their disobedience, of their foolishness.

Not you! Heavens no, not you! Never you. You were perfect, always. Always the perfect little damsel in distress. Always the most entertaining morsel. Delicate and bold at the same time. A real palette cleanser from all the other despicable acts they’ve seen before. They’ve had a lifetime and then some to experience the tiresome, dreadfully boring reality they’ve come to unwilling terms with. However, you certainly add a wonderful zing of sweetness and spice to the otherwise flavorless mush they’ve known life to taste like. They want more.

They watched the despair fill your mind, how distraught you became over the mess they’d created. They saw your beautiful eyes, so teary and wide. So much innocence and hope for this crumbling world held inside them.

They stood, brushing off the dust from their clothes, and walked towards the door that caged them inside. Oh, how wonderful it will be to meet you again. Properly, this time.

<3 — Tag List — <3

@humanoid606 • @repostingmyfavs • @bubblymusiclover13 • @sannpei • @caniseethefourthsword • @notleecassisy • @purplemochicat • @screaminginvoids • @livyyz • @lotionlamp • @slaymbo • @ladybug2235 • @serxinns • @lady-ashfade • @todobakudeku2021 • @sky-angel101 • @justastrobruh • @spoiledgordita • @wolfy1984 • @genderfluid-bastard • @puthypirate42069 • @bubblymusiclover13 • @shiftinglover • @skinseeker77 • @des-deswain5621 • @fr3dsw0rld123 • @mary-jinx • @justafishh • @the-rouge-robin • @cassycas0

[raintemper]

More of them,, but they’re robot cats this time lol… I’ll draw Moon and Pebbles soon, and some others maybe

I’ll do anything but actually draw them as Iterators apparently

Don't look too close, Ive never drawn such mech heavy designs until now...I don't know what I'm doing. I got a little more confident with NSH but I was absolutely just going blind with Suns. It took me 2 days to figure out how I wanted to start with Suns...

Some background info dump of them for this? Au??? Idk yet lol, under the line if interested

Erhm. Set in a post apocalyptic world, much like how Rain World actually is. Alternative timeline where iterators don't exist?? Failed??? The ancients have not yet ascended?? Maybe??? Idk the details are still blurry to me also 😞. They are in a high security lab facility ground type setting. (Perhaps just an excuse for me to draw apocalyptic higher tech designs????) It is cold outside, some failed iterator structures still produce rain, and occasionally the air may become toxic.

Suns is an offensive/surveillance model meant for fighting and protecting as one can probably tell with his tail blades. It folds back in an attempt to make it less dangerous and also functions as a way to swiftly cut into something if needed. They are the only one of them (excluding Pebbles for special reasons) to be equipped with a mouth hiding sharp teeth and/or lasers for even more attack prowess. They are also still huge. Sorry I run with the huge Suns agenda. He is a tower. Easily wrestles most lizards. I still like the idea of fluffy Suns, so he still has it as a robot cat. Some insulation for the colder outside temperatures, he's outside a lot. Suns is not built to be friendly. Mostly acts and behaves as an unassuming robot early on.

Moon and Suns were the first properly functional/successful projects. They were edited and reconstructed a lot from beginning to now. Maybe they were both originally purposed as therapeutic companions.

The overseers are little drones that fly around. They still project things and are still sometimes unhelpful with directions, follow at your own discretion. The lizards and predators mostly ignore them as well. They do recognize the different drones with time. They've learned to recognize NSH's drones, which sometimes might contain some edible collected material, so they do occasionally try to eat those. And most of the smaller predators try to leave the area if they see Suns' drones.

NSH is closer to a pet model. He is made for reconnaissance and scouting. He is still tiny because I like him tiny, he's adorable. NSH has three pairs of legs for rough terrain traversal, and is a fast little guy. He helps in collecting samples and materials from the outside, marking maps, as well as finding viable safe spots/shelters. He has no mouth but has a component in his chest where he can collect small samples, as well as storage units in his drones to store excess. He has small vials of decontaminate fluid to clean any samples he collects, they have to be refilled occasionally. Also, as mentioned in the art, he can open his neck and chest area and just swallow bigger samples. He can even keep them alive inside him if he wants to. Otherwise, they're killed and turned into power for him to use. Sometimes he finds lizards with cool patterns and tries to swallow them to show Suns, who oftentimes will kill it afterwards.

He was the experimental project for emotive programming alongside Unparalleled Innocence/UI, hence his fully functioning screen as a face. As opposed to Suns, who functions more as a security camera. I think NSH and UI are both similar in the more playful/chaotic personalities, so I decided for them to be created around the same time and put into the same testing. Overtime, UI did not respond very well and was repurposed (She's not gone). Emotive sentience was programmed into NSH first and then tested on Moon. It was generally successful in both cases. NSH really enjoys messing around and can even imitate his fellow iterators faces. It works really well temporarily scaring predators using Suns' color markings lol.

Because NSH and Suns are both outside often, they have solar panel components in their design for extra power. The two of them are very close because of their shared experiences. NSH likes the outside more, Suns has little opinions of it. They worry about NSH because he's so small and curious and occasionally brings back dangerous things.

Suns is a little bit of an outcast here because of his difference in role. He is mostly left to roam and function on his own/not approached as he carries his role. The others are research focused and Suns is more obviously purposed for battle, so there is a little bit of a divide. Not to mention, he technically does not have the programming for emotions that Moon and NSH have. Suns does learn on his own though :D, some of it is learned from NSH too

I will leave it here for now. I will probably talk more about Moon and Pebbles for their own post. And the others as well. I'm still thinking about their designs though.

Erhm hopefully this makes sense somewhat and was at least a fun read.

[annafayeink]

Canvas of Lies

summary: Cate’s life is a careful balance of paint-splattered sweaters, rejection emails, and dreams too big to fit in her tiny apartment. Lu’s life is all charm, designer sneakers, and family obligations that come with impossible expectations. They’re best friends, polar opposites—and suddenly fake dating to help Lu survive a high-stakes family dinner. What starts as an improvised act becomes a whirlwind of tangled stories, unspoken truths, and moments that blur the line between pretend and reality. In the chaos of lies they craft together, Cate and Lu might just uncover the truths they’ve been avoiding all along.

warnings & tags: best friends to lovers; fake dating; mutual pining; slow burn; emotional hurt/comfort; fluff, angst & humor; eventual romance & smut;

Chapter Two

Lu leaned against the counter, absently playing with a baguette like a philosopher pondering the mysteries of life. “You know, the key to a convincing lie is to anchor it in truth.”

“Is that so?” I lifted an eyebrow at him, crossing my arms.

“Absolutely,” he replied, unflinching, dipping into the professorial voice he reserved for when he was lecturing someone. “It's basic psychology. People are more likely to believe a lie if it's anchored in something real. That's why we should stick to things we know—places we visit often, mutual friends, things we've both experienced in some way. It makes the story feel lived-in. Plausible.”

“I'll take your word for it, Professor Mangione.” I bit back a grin. “You seem disturbingly good at lying. Should I be worried?”

“I've read my fair share of books on human behaviour.” Lu smirked, picking up the baguette before resuming his pacing like a man on a mission.

“Remind me never to play poker with you.”

He chuckled. “Truth is, lying is not much different from storytelling. The same principles apply. Every great story needs a consistent internal logic. If we’re going to make this convincing, we need to think like writers.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t deny that his point made sense. “Fine, O Wise One. How do we make our fake relationship Pulitzer-worthy?”

“Glad you asked.” Suddenly animated, he gestured wildly with the baguette as he spoke. “People believe what feels authentic. If our story has details that are too perfect or too rehearsed, it'll fall apart. People will start picking at them—”

“Like a loose thread on a sweater, yeah.”

“But if it's imperfect, unpredictable, and grounded in who we are… then it works.”

“I can do imperfect,” I say. “My life is one big ball of entropy.”

“Exactly,” Lu grinned like I'd just proven his point. “If we lean into that, sprinkle in a few real moments—your terrible dancing, my savior complex—we’ll be untouchable.”

“Terrible dancing?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“You're right,” he replied with mock seriousness. “That was unfair. ‘’Terrible’ doesn't quite capture it.”

I threw a balled-up napkin at him, laughing despite myself.

“We will need to set some rules,” he declared, jabbing the bread in my direction for emphasis. “Without rules, things get messy.”

“Messy? Like crumbs on my floor?” I flicked a stray flake from the croissant he’d brought over earlier, trying to keep a straight face.

Lu shot me a sharp look and placed the baguette on the counter again. “I’m serious. If we're not convincing enough, my mother will sniff out the truth faster than you can say ‘respectable’.”

I couldn't imagine what his mother would do if she found out we were faking it. I'm guessing it would probably involve shame, a string of painfully awkward family dinners for him and absolute social suicide for me.

“And what happens if she does?” I asked, arching a brow. “What’s the worst-case scenario here, Lu? You get disowned and have to slum it with the rest of us peasants?”

His smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second, but long enough for me to notice the way his shoulders stiffened. A tiny pang of guilt pierced my heart. I’d only meant to tease, but something about his expression made me wonder if there was more truth to my words than I realized. The smirk that followed was smooth, almost too smooth, like a patch slapped over something cracked.

“Actually, worst-case scenario, she tries to set me up with someone like…” He grimaced comically. “Anastasia Ricci.”

That made me wince instinctively. Everyone knew about Anastasia Ricci. From what I’d heard, she collected red flags like they were limited-edition handbags. “Fair point. Let’s avoid that.”

“So,” he clapped his hands, the motion as confident as if he were running a boardroom meeting instead of scheming in my tiny apartment. “Shall we build our magnum opus of fake love?”

I snorted, grabbing a notebook from my desk. I couldn't decide if his ability to spin convincing lies so effortlessly was impressive or just a little unnerving. I decided I wasn't ready to find out, so I leaned into humor instead. “If this ends up being more work than my actual relationships, I’m charging you for my time.”

While I wrote Fake-relationship Commandments in all captions at the top of the page, Lu plopped down on the couch next to me.

When he took a peak at the notebook, he laughed that easy, confident laugh of his. “Okay.” Rule number one: no going off-script.”

First commandment: thou shalt not improvise, I wrote.

“If the details don't align, people start asking questions,” he continued. “Questions lead to scrutiny. Scrutiny leads to exposure. We have to commit to it completely, because it is confidence that sells the story. Act like you belong in the lie, and most people won't even think to question it.”

“The more real it feels to us, the harder it is for anyone else to see through,” I agreed. “So, what's the timeline here?”

He thought for a moment. “If anyone asks, we’ve been dating for six months.”

“Six months?” I frowned. “Why not three? It’s more believable.”

“I think three is too short. Six gives us enough time to seem serious but not so long that people wonder why they haven’t met you before.”

I sighed, conceding with a small shrug. “Fine. Six months. How did we meet?”

He grinned with a familiar mischievous glint in his eye. “Obviously, I saw you painting one of your masterpieces in the park and was so captivated I tripped over a bench trying to talk to you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. If anyone was tripping, it’d be me. Over my own feet.”

“Okay, fine.” He laughed again, the sound warm and unguarded. “How about we met through a mutual friend? Chelsea, maybe? She’s always dragging people to those weird wine-and-paint nights.”

“That works,” I said, nodding and scribbling.

“We also need specific touchpoints—milestones,” Lu said, his tone growing more thoughtful. “A first date, for example. Something cute and memorable we can refer to in conversation. Something that sounds like… us.”

I tapped my pen against the notebook, thinking. “Obviously, I dragged you with me to my favorite art gallery.”

“Yeah,” he said immediately, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “The one on Main.”

I froze, my pen hovering just above the page. “You… you remember that?” I asked, looking up at him, thinking about the dozens of galleries I hauled him through over the years and wondering how on Earth he remembered which one I preferred.

His gaze was steady, the kind of look that felt like it could see right through me. “I actually listen when you talk, Cate.”

The way he said it—so matter-of-fact yet filled with a quiet sincerity—caught me off guard. Warmth spread through my chest, rising to my cheeks as if the room had suddenly been plunged into a furnace. My throat felt tight, and I forced my focus back to the notebook, pretending to be absorbed in jotting down the details.

“Okay,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended, betraying the flutter in my chest. “What’s the next rule?”

Lu leaned back against the couch cushions, crossing his arms as he considered. “Rule number two: no overcomplicating things. The simpler the story, the easier it is to stick to. If we try to make it too elaborate, we’ll trip ourselves up.”

I raised an eyebrow, still jotting notes. Second commandment: keep it stupid simple. “That’s ironic coming from you. Your entire life is one big overcomplication.”

“Fair,” he admitted with a smirk. “But this is different. We’re not building a soap opera here, we’re creating a believable romance. Keep it straightforward—dates, conversations, little quirks about each other. No crazy exes, no dramatic love triangles.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “What about PDA?”

He tilted his head, thoughtful. “Hmm. Let’s keep it natural. Enough to sell the story, but nothing over the top. We’re supposed to look comfortable, not like we’re trying out for a rom-com.”

“So no making out in front of your mom,” I deadpanned.

Lu barked a laugh, the sound sharp and carefree, but then something shifted. “Definitely no making out in front of my mom. But…” His voice dipped just slightly, quieter now, and his gaze flicked to my lips, lingering there for a breath longer than necessary. When his eyes met mine again, the teasing glint was gone. “There has to be chemistry. That’s non-negotiable.”

I froze, caught in the weight of his words—and the weight of his gaze. For a second, I couldn’t tell if he was still talking about the plan or if we’d wandered into something else entirely.

“Obviously,” I managed, my throat dry. I forced a small laugh that didn’t quite land. “If we don’t look convincing, we might as well call the whole thing off now.”

The air between us shifted, thickening like a storm cloud waiting to break. My pen hovered over the notebook, but I couldn’t make myself look away. Did he feel it too? Or was I just making things weird, overthinking the logistics of playing pretend? Maybe it was just the idea of kissing my best friend that had me spiraling.

“Holding hands? Sure,” he said finally, breaking the spell as he leaned back against the couch, his tone lighter now. “An arm around your shoulders? No problem. But…” He shrugged, an easy smile creeping back onto his face. “Anything beyond that, and we’re venturing into uncomfortable territory—for both of us.”

My chest tightened at his words, an ache I couldn’t quite name settling in. “Yeah,” I said lightly, nodding as I wrote it down. “We don’t want that.”

Third commandment: Minimal touchy-feely.

When I glanced up again, he was grinning at me, his usual charm back in full force, the moment slipping away like sand through my fingers. I let it go, choosing to believe the slight tremble in my hand was from the coffee I hadn’t had that morning.

“Any other rules?”

“Yeah,” he said, his expression more serious now. “We need to keep this between us. No one else can know it’s fake—not Chelsea, not your nosy neighbour, not even the barista at that coffee shop you love. The fewer people who know, the lower the risk of it getting back to my family.”

“Agreed,” I said, writing it down. Fourth commandment: Loose lips sink fake ships.

He leaned forward again and reached out to touch my shoulder. “Just… trust me, okay? If things get weird or someone starts digging too deep, I’ll handle it. You just have to trust that I’ve got your back.”

The sincerity in his tone caught me off guard. He made it all sound so simple, but I couldn't shake the feeling that pretending to be his girlfriend might be the most dangerous thing I'd ever agreed to. I hesitated, but eventually nodded. “Okay. I trust you.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Alright! What’s missing? Oh—how about our favorite shared memory? You know someone’s going to ask about that.”

I snorted. “I don’t know, Lu. Do you have a favorite memory of me?”

He thought for a moment. “Yeah, I’ve got one. Remember that time we went to the beach and a seagull stole my sandwich? You nearly died laughing.”

I burst out laughing at the memory. The smell of salt and sunscreen was still as sharp as if it had been yesterday; Lu glaring at the seagull with the sandwich dangling from its beak and me laughing so hard I could barely breathe. “That’s actually perfect. Let’s go with that.”

He grinned. “See? We’re naturals at this.”

“Don’t get cocky,” I warned, though I couldn’t help smiling as I wrote it down. “Okay, last thing: our couple’s song. Suggestions?”

He groaned. “Ugh. Can’t we skip that? It feels so fake.”

“Everything about this is fake, genius. Just pick something.”

We spent the next fifteen minutes arguing over options, vetoing anything too obvious or cliché. Finally, we settled on a random indie song he’d shown me once and neither of us could stop humming for the next seven to ten business days.

“Alright,” I said, closing the notebook with a flourish. “Fake-relationship Commandments complete. Is there anything else you need to cover?”

Lu leaned back, a satisfied grin on his face. “Nope. We’re ready to moonlight as con artists.”

He made it all sound so easy, like slipping into a role was second nature to him. But something about the way he looked at me—so steady, so sure—made me feel like maybe I could pull it off without actually tripping over my own feet.

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth of his smile was contagious. “Let’s just hope this doesn’t end in disaster.”

“It won’t,” he said confidently. “Trust me, Cate. We’ve got this.”

___

For the tag list, click here ✨

@mrsmangione286 | @nosebeers

[r3starttt]

HELLO REN! i luv luv luv ur works so much <333 ever thought ab childhood best friend caitlyn where she asks reader about how she found out she liked girls? can be sfw or nsfw :P

a/n: Tysm! It made me sob 🥹🩷 also, loved this request. Hope u enjoy!

Warnings: fluff. a lot ig(?

Caitlyn had always been pretty self-confident. She would never hesitate, would always speak out loud and never really doubted herself.

But recently she’s transformed so much, she can’t stop doubting about her, about her mind and her heart and her whole life. About you.

She’d been friend with you for so long. You’re the only one she truly trusts, the person that makes her feel more comfortable, the only one that she feels like she can be her true self. No need to be perfect or strong or smart.

And it shows. The moment she sees you a wide smile appears on her face, a sparkle grows on her eyes, so unexplainable. And what you likes the most, she becomes the most tender person whenever she’s with you.

And it was like this since you met her. It took you a while to get close to her though. She’d always hesitate before answering all the questions you made about her, and her response was always to short, just telling you what was necessary.

But you never gave up on her because she seemed so nice, you were dying to be her friend. The little you’ve talked with her let you know how much you had in common, you’d never stop.

So she finally gave in and started to talk back, and she regretted so much for not doing it before, because you were so nice too, you’d hear hear if she needed to speak, you would remind her to breath whenever she spoke too fast. You’d hold hands with her if she was too nervous, you’d let her cry on your shoulder when she was feeling off and you’d hear her complain about her mom nonstop.

If she needed to be quiet then you were there for her, to stay hours in her room just staring at the ceiling in silence, or to talk about whatever came to your mind to entreating her. If she needed to speak you’d always listen. If she needed any advice she’d only listen to yours.

And she did the same for you.

You’d always be invited to whatever fancy event the Kiramman’s made, and caitlyn adored you so much for attending. You were probably the first relationship she had that didn’t felt like it was all about power and money and society and perfection. She felt so real with you, so comforted.

And she’d always find a way to let you know how much you meant for her. Like on your birthday, she’d always spoil you so much. Or if she noticed you weren’t doing good she’ll put you first until you felt better. She’d always convince you to tell her what was wrong, always avoid any conflict with you and would apologize whenever her emotions made a mess of your friendship.

She was just so nice for you and you were even nicer to her.

But she always thought it was a platonic feeling, nothing romantic. She’d love you, a lot, but only as a friend, as family.

“Do you like her?” You we’re both laying on her bed, in complete silence until now “She’s fine but… not my type I guess”

You’d met a girl some days ago, but it was nothing serious. I’m fact you didn’t even planned a second date. Tiny detail you’ve forgot to mention to Caitlyn.

“So you have a type?” you could notice her smirking from the corner of your eye, your hand slapped Caitlyn’s, and she let out a very loud and dramatic ‘oww’

“What about you mhm? You’ve never dated anyone, you’re so boring” now she slapped your hand

“How…did you know you like girls?” you let out a small giggle, was that the reason of her singleness?

“Uhh long story, but if you’re wondering if you like them then you probably have the answer already” she groaned, her head turned to look at you, there was a serious expression on her face “I just… I don’t know, I met a girl and I thought I loved her as a friend but…. It took me a while to understand my feelings”

You stopped talking for some seconds, thinking on how to explain it properly without gettin much into detail

“It’s kinda weird but, I only realized about it because the idea of kissing her or hugging her, maybe cuddling with her or touching her in general made me feel nervous. Like a mix of excitement and happiness”

She nodded. You moved your whole body to face her, resting your head on top of your hands. There was a slight blush covering her cheeks.

It was probably the first time she was unable to maintain eye contact with you. Did it mean anything? Maybe you were just overthinking it a lot, she’d let you know if she felt something for you right?

“Who are you thinking about?” she gulped, not really sure on how to answer “is it me?” the way her eyes widened gave you the answer you were looking for, but you needed to hear her saying it out loud “Answer me Caitlyn”

“It is, yes”

“So? you know you can be honest with me, I won-“

It happened so suddenly. Not a proper thing of her to do, but you wouldn’t complain.

Her soft lips pressed on top of yours, her hands traveled to yours and her long cold fingers intertwined with yours. Her touch felt so sweet, so tender and pure.

Your hands moved to her face, cupping it and caressing her cheek with your thumb.

Until she broke the kiss.

And if it wasn’t because of the sparkle on her eyes, because of the way her lost look wandered around your whole face, because of the way you could almost feel her heart as if it was yours, because of how your breathing became one, then you would’ve asked her if she liked it.

You moved some of her pretty blue hair and tucked it behind her ears. She looked even prettier now that you could look at her this closely.

“I think I like you” you giggled “I think I like you too”

[valoisfulcanellideux]

These Stones Remember - cover reveal

A few days ago I posted the full title and cover reveal for my upcoming Pixlriffs-centric (Copper King & Phantom Assassin) story, A Tale of Two Devotions. That beautiful artwork was commissioned from the amazing Sabira | @floweroflaurelin and at the end of the post I mentioned that I had one other commission currently sitting with them.

Well, that commission is now complete, and ready to share with you.

It's the cover for my 178,000-word fic These Stones Remember, and I'll admit that seeing this final image got me feeling incredibly emotional. There may or may not have been tears shed. There were. Oh heck, there were.

So here it is:

I spent almost a year of my life writing These Stones Remember, and Sabira has more than done justice to these characters and this world. The Copper King, Onorait Paix al-Lareiff. His 2,000-year-old present-day version, Pix al-Lareiff. His devoted and faithful Chaperone, Mhenheli al-Q'isaraf. His adorable little soul companion kitty, Malin. And the Vigil and the Statue, and so many other tiny little details that you probably won't even realise have been inserted into the illustration unless you've read the story.

To say that I'm thrilled with this cover would be the understatement of the year. (I know this year is still young, so let's include last year, too!) It was a delight to work with Sabira, and to see the in-progress sketches and eventually this final render, with the beautiful hand typography for the title.

And, if the cover has piqued your interest but you've not yet read the story? Welp, here's a taxi to some sweeping ancient history :)

"The past changes a little every time we retell it." A wandering scholar and his ethereal companion find a long-abandoned treasure. At first glance he thinks has simply stumbled upon a ruined ancient capital, filled with the promise of incredible archaeological treasures and riven through with the history of a long-dead civilisation. But when he wakes up one day and finds the city has come alive around him, its people bowing to him as though they know and respect him, he has unknowingly begun a journey toward redemption for a terrible mistake he made two thousand years ago.

[gretavangroupie]

Valor (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin', Allusions to Drug Use. Angst: Struggle and Poverty, Emotional Manipulation, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Fighting, Blood, Mentions of Death, Mention of Suicide, Suicidal Actions, Crying, Heavy Angst, Allusions to Shady Activities, Coercion, Gambling, Betting. Smut: Kissing, Heavy Petting, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Penetrative Sex.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A new project in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

HER POV

“I want details.” You demanded, determined to understand at least why they were keeping you so involved. 

They both gave you almost the exact same look, half-agitated and half-understanding they had to at least give you something. Jake cleared his throat first. 

“My dad…passed away seven years ago, and when he did, he left behind more than this shop.” Jake drew on his cigarette, readjusting in his seat as he talked. “Ace had a bad gambling problem, so bad that it put him in more debt and more depression than I really ever knew about. He used to hold these poker games for fun, until he started losin’ money, and started making more enemies than he did friends. Shit started to go south really quick. Honestly, it was a lot worse then, than it is now. The law was involved, dirty cops were playin’ cards one night and harassing my dad the next, drifters started to come around and threaten him while he was working…it was an overall unsafe environment for me and Danny.” He went on. 

“Wait.” You interrupted, trying to grasp everything. “Danny, you were always here?”

He nodded. “Yup, I uh, I started off in foster care, but…no one ever wanted to keep me. I was always getting into trouble and fightin’ in school… Jake was my best friend. I stayed here more than I stayed at home…most of the time my foster parents never even knew where I was. But Ace took care of me, when he could hardly even take care of Jake. So one day, it was Thanksgiving, I think. I just…never left. I was still just a kid. Started watching every move Ace made mechanicin’. Taught myself how to fix shit.” He ended the story with a harsh swallow. You knew that was something he didn’t share often. 

You couldn’t help but smile, realizing a little bit more how close these two actually really were. Raised as brothers. 

“So anyway, after my dad died, I was left with all this shit…all the money he owed to people fell into my lap. Not to mention all the other bullshit…the bills, the overdue payments, taxes…he was drowning then, and we’re drowning now.”

“And Teddy, he’s been playing cards here since I can remember.” Danny explained. 

“Teddy…” you repeated. 

“Yeah. He’s the one that called yesterday, he arranges the games. My dad owed him so much money, we’re still paying it back. We have to listen to him when he calls, we don’t have a choice. Every time we have a game and either of us wins, we give him the money. Right off the bat. It’s fuckin' horrible.”

“Well how long until he’s paid off?” You asked. 

“We’ve barely even made a dent, unfortunately.” Jake said, tamping his cigarette out on the floor between his boots. “It’s rare that either of us win.”

“Okay, well things are making a little more sense, I guess…” you could tell they were holding back on all the details, probably sparing you from knowing too much at one time. “So where do I come in, why are you hiding me?”

Jake took a deep breath, and leaned his elbows down on his knees, looking you directly in the eyes.  “You’re collateral. You’re fresh meat. They know that if…they can get to you, they can use you.” 

You felt your stomach drop to the floor. “Use me for what?”

Jake cocked an eyebrow. “To get to me.”

You looked back at Jake, staring each other down as you let it sink in. To get to me… You shook your head. “But that…doesn’t make any sense. Why would they think I mattered to you, at all?” 

You watched a tiny grin form on both of their faces. “They know we’re protective. They know you’ve been hanging around us…and honestly, I bet they know you have money.” Danny chimed in. “Y/N, how much are you payin’ for your motel room?”

“Uh, thirty-five a night, why?” You answered. 

“Are you fuckin' kidding me?!” Jake sat back in his seat as he and Danny exchanged knowing looks of ‘thought so.’

“Wanda.” Danny said, his voice seething. 

“I thought it was steep, but she didn’t give me a choice in the room, said it was all she had—”

“I bet she watched you pull your cold hard cash from your wallet, too, didn’t she?” Danny asked. “Watched you count it out?”

“Y-yeah…so?”

“So,” Jake tried to explain. “Wanda is friends with Teddy’s crew. Christ…She fuckin' told them you had money…they sent Tanya down here to get concrete evidence you were with us…that’s why he called the poker game. They want your money, Y/N. On top of our money. And they know that they can get paid a whole lot quicker if they get a hold of you…they know we would pay up if it was you on the line…”

Your eyes were stuck open at all of the information, trying to soak everything in as it was fed to you. 

“Me on the line…so, so you’re saying they might try to…to kidnap me? Hold me for ransom or something?” You could hardly get the words out. 

Danny nodded slowly while Jake massaged his palms. “Or worse.”

“Worse? What the fuck could be worse?!” You yelled, leaning off of the countertop. Danny stood from the chair, walking over to calm the storm he knew was brewing inside you. You felt him wrap his arms slowly around your neck, in a completely non-sexual way, knowing that if you needed to feel anything right now, it was comfort. 

“We don’t intend on letting you find out. And we don’t intend on giving them the satisfaction of winning like that.” He said, his voice laced with promise. You opened your eyes and peered over Danny’s shoulder, locking eyes with Jake as he nodded his head in agreement. 

“I’ve only been here for like two days, guys…you don’t owe me anything, I just want to get the hell out of here, I never wanted to bring all this trouble…” you felt like you were on the verge of tears, feeling guilty that you inadvertently made their situation worse. 

“You didn’t bring any trouble, Y/N. They’re bad men with bad reputations and shit lives. Teddy’s going to die wanting to bring me strife. It’s like he gets off on the shit…” Jake said, his voice trailing off as he looked at the wall behind you. Danny let go of your shoulders. 

“What, Jake? What is it?” His eyes were glued to the calendar that hung on the wall behind you. 

“Nothing. Today Saturday?” His face had gone completely white, stark as the smoke that bellowed from his cigarette. 

“Yeah, it is…” Danny took your hands in his. “I know it’s fucked, Y/N. It’s so fucked. And I’m so sorry you got dragged into this mess. I know you want to leave, but don’t you agree that the best place for you right now is with us? We can protect you…we know how their minds work…I’d feel so much better if you just, didn’t go back to the motel…”

He was pleading with you, and honestly at this point, you’d be terrified to be alone in that motel after learning everything you learned tonight, especially that Wanda had been snitching on your every fucking move. Bitch. 

You nodded, agreeing with Danny. As pissed off, insulted, and sick as it made you, you felt like you had no choice but to agree. “Alright. If it’s for my safety…I’ll stay here. But I’m not going to like it.” You were going to love it, as fucked as it was. “But honestly, how long? You’ve already been paying him off for 7 years…”

“Just until we figure something out. Until we fix your car, then you can disappear and let the wind carry you away, straight to Atlanta.” Danny answered with a true and genuine frown. He didn’t want you to leave. 

“Okay. But I have a couple conditions.”

They both looked at you with puzzled expressions. “You clean your disgusting, repulsive bathroom, and you both wash your sheets. Please. For the love of god.”

Sweet, sexy laughs escaped them both as they conceded, relaxing back in their chairs. “Yeah, okay. Point taken.” Danny said, holding his hand out to shake yours. “It’s a deal, Miss Thing.”

“Good. Thank you. I’ll even make dinner tonight, for your troubles.” You offered, knowing there wasn’t much in the cabinets, but you were confident you could whip something up. 

Jake stood from his chair, still looking a little pekid from whatever he noticed about the calendar earlier. He held his hand out to shake yours, too. “One clean bathroom, coming up.”

You began searching through the cabinets and refrigerator, finding a few potatoes and some bologna. Hmm, when all else fails, fry it. 

You pulled some oil from the cabinet, and laid out six pieces of the almost-expired bread hidden away on the counter. This will have to do. 

You’d come into this shop two and a half days ago, feeling uneasy, anxious, and unsure…and now you sat here with two of your oldest classmates as they transformed their home and business into a fortress for you to stay in, using themselves as a protective shield from the bad guys who were vying for you. 

But it didn’t feel wrong staying with Danny…you liked him. You liked him a lot. And with Jake…you felt…drawn to him. Both of them. But there was something about Danny’s touch that made you crave him; him leaving you hanging in the motel room earlier was enough to make you so sexually frustrated that you resented him for a second. 

The image of him lying on top of you under the covers was all you could think about, and you were absolutely dying to get him back in bed. The way his long, dark locks laid across his shoulders and reached all the way down to past the middle of his back, his defined features and strong jawline…the way his nose scrunched up when he smiled… all of it was stuck in your brain, burning little images that replayed over and over. 

He felt different than Peter, that much you could tell even after just the brief encounter you’d had. Like he would let you be in charge instead of only trying to appease his every little fantasy. 

And his lips on yours? Like the buzzing end of an electric wire, you could physically feel them still when he parted from you. The way his tongue felt in your mouth, his hands gripping your hips… yeah. It was decided. You wouldn’t be joining Jake in his bed again tonight. 

—

JAKE POV

The smell was familiar. One you recognized deep down in your bones. A smell that transported you back in time. You pulled your sheets from the washing machine, the lid black and dirty which was kind of ironic. You tossed them into the dryer, starting it up as the smell lured you into the kitchen. You can’t remember the last time someone that wasn’t you made a meal in this kitchen. 

You wiped your bleach-scented hands across your pants, the smell of lemon bathroom cleaner and Comet stuck in your nose. You realized your hands were cleaner than they’d been in probably years, after scrubbing away at the black ring in the bathtub. You could actually see the whiteness of your fingernails. 

As you rested your hands on a kitchen chair, you peered over to the stove watching Y/N finish frying up a pan of diced potatoes. Your stomach growled and your mouth watered as you watched her, completely unknowing you were standing behind her. 

Danny steps out of the hallway and into the kitchen, his voice startling both of you. “Damn, it smells good in here. I’m starving.” He walks up behind Y/N, peeking over her shoulder as his hand squeezes her hip. He turns to grab a few paper plates, placing them on the counter for her before taking a seat in the old wooden chair. 

You swung around and sat yourself in your own chair, once again letting your eyes drift over to the calendar on the wall. Seven years today. Seven years, Ace. You lean on your fist, twirling the worn metal zippo between your fingers. Rubbing your thumb over the engravings, hand carved by the man himself. It was all you really had left of him, taking it from his pocket that day, giving it a home in yours ever since. Your heart sank the more you thought about it, which is why you didn’t ever let yourself. You always did everything in your power to forget this day, never give it the chance to crush you like this, but this year, lucky number seven… It got you. 

“Alright, it’s ready!” she said, spinning around with two paper plates filled with fried potatoes and fried bologna sandwiches. That was it. That was the smell. Fried bologna. Your dad’s fucking favorite. Of course, today of all days. 

“Shit this looks good, haven't had fried bologna in forever!” Danny says, grabbing the sandwich and taking a bite. She grabs her own plate and sits between the two of you, stabbing her fork into a potato as you just stare down at the plate in front of you. You’re stuck. Frozen. Your stomach telling you to eat but your mind suddenly rushing with memories you’d pushed down for years. It hurt. They hurt.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself you picked up the sandwich, and held it to your mouth, slowly taking a bite as Y/N and Danny chatted about nothing. You wished you could turn off the instant replay in your mind of the last time you sat at this table eating with your dad. It hit you like a ton of bricks that now felt as if they settled in the pit of your stomach. 

The thing about Ace though, was that he never really told you how to live your life. He just let you live it watching him, and hoping you’d learn from his mistakes. What you didn’t expect, was that his mistakes would in turn become your own burden. You hated him for what he did. You hated that he left you to clean up his mess. You hated that you no longer had a family of your own. Just Daniel, and Daniel, you. That was okay though, the two of you had each other and that was better than nothing. You weren’t sure you’d ever forgive Ace, not for leaving you, but for letting your mother leave you before you ever even got a chance to know her. That was unforgivable.

You finished the last bite of your sandwich, completely spaced out as you stared off at the wall, just letting the memories ravage your consciousness, when suddenly it all just felt like too much. You started to feel suffocated by the thoughts, the room you were in suddenly feeling too hot, and too small. Your chest started to tighten and your throat felt small. You pushed your chair back and snatched your plate from the table, tossing it in the trash can as you offered a quick ‘thank you’ to Y/N. Your feet carried you out into the garage, as your hands found the light switch.  

The buzzing of the fluorescent lights calmed you a bit. Your eyes caught sight of Valor, and huff of air left your chest. A pristine 1968 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. Hardtop, Tuxedo Black with a standard 396 Horsepower engine, all hidden under a dusty beige colored canvas tarp.  

Just keep your mind busy. Do what you know. You walked over to the covered car, letting your hand hover over the cover, grabbing a fist full of the fabric and yanking it off with a scream. Your eyes took her in, she was pretty, you’d give her that, but hell, maybe you would be too if someone spent all their time fixing you up. Ace sure did. Throw the football? ‘No son, we have to get Valor running. Don’t you want to hear her purr?’ You can still hear his voice perfectly, as he says it. 

You slip your hand into the polished chrome handle, pulling the door open and sliding into the white vinyl bucket seat. It hugged you in just the right way, making the driver feel like they were part of the car. One with it. You grabbed the keys from the center console, sticking them into the ignition and twisting. The engine roared to life. He’d at least gotten that far, and he was right, she sure did sound pretty when she purred. But the problem is that she wouldn’t stay running. She’d run for a little while, and out of nowhere, she’d die. And that’s where he left her, sitting right here in the middle of this garage, covered and ashamed. You could barely look at it most days, leaving the cover on for months at a time until the feeling struck, and you needed to get your anger out. You’d completely tear apart the front end, combing through every single piece searching for something, anything that could be wrong, but every time you came up empty. 

Like clockwork, she died. The smell of the carpet and old vinyl filling your senses the way it always had. A suffocating blend of raw gasoline and rich exhaust, with overtones of hot Castrol. You lived for it, in fact it was all you ever really knew. It brought you to life most days, the process of working on cars satisfying your need to fix. To tinker. To solve. You ripped the keys from the ignition and slammed the door shut behind you. The black paint was so perfectly shiny you could see your own reflection. You tossed the keys into your pocket and let your legs carry you up the metal steps to your desk, opening the till, and fingering through the stacks of cash.

You instinctively grab for a twenty, knowing it’s more than enough to cover your usual selection but shit, tonight was a celebration right? You’re getting the good shit tonight. Just for you Ace. Just like you’d do, right? You snatch a fifty from the register, slamming it shut with a ding as your feet stomp down the metal stairs and back through the house. As you cross through the kitchen you grab your keys from the counter, with the fifty still in hand, receiving puzzled looks from Y/N and Daniel. 

You meet her eyes as you watch hers drift down to the cash in your hand, an instant look of confusion crossing her face. You crumpled it up in your hand as soon as you knew she saw it, stuffing the bill in your jeans pocket. 

You know what Daniel wants to say, but you know he’s not stupid enough to say it. Her though, she has no idea, and you know she’s not afraid to speak her mind. Your eyes meet hers again for the briefest second and you wonder if she can see the pain in your eyes before you look away and head for the front door. 

—

It’s not long until you’re pulling up at the QuikStop, pulling the barred door open as the bell chimes overhead. “Well then, what’ve we got here Jacob?” old man Johnson says, taking in your appearance. “Need you a top off tonight, son?” he snickers. You tip your chin in acknowledgement as you make your way to the back wall lined with a small assortment of different liquors. Your eyes scan over the offerings, stopping short when you catch sight of the good stuff. You grab the red waxed neck of the Maker’s Mark, and make your way to the counter to purchase your poison of the evening. You were typically a Seagram’s 7 man, but tonight you were pretty much feeling like a Maker’s man, considering your body was about to filled to the brim with it. fucking anything to stop the noise in your head.

“My my, this’s not ‘chur usual, son.” he grins, knowing you’re about to fork out a pretty penny. 

“Should get the job done, you think?” you remark, pulling the fifty from your jeans pocket.

“Mighty fine this one is. Quell yer troubles, it sure will.” he says, taking it from your fingers. He gives you back a few small bills and loose coins that you shove into your pants pocket, snatching the bottle from the counter before he even has a chance to place it in a paper bag. “You have yeh’s a good night Jacob.” he calls out as your foot steps out the door into the thick humid air. 

 —

HER POV

“Thank you for dinner.” You felt Danny’s breath on the back of your neck as you scrubbed the frying pan. “Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve had a cooked meal in this place?”

His lips were trailing soft kisses down your neck onto your shoulder, making your neck crane sideways. “S’hardly a meal, Danny. Just thought you might’ve wanted somethin’ hot for a change.”

You turned to face him, scratching your nails up his pecs before wrapping your arms around his neck, hands still wet from the sink. “Mmm, I do want somethin’ hot.” His hands were under your thighs, fingertips burying in before lifting you up to sit on the countertop. He was just the right height to pull you forward a little, pressing himself directly against your core. Just that feeling alone made you weak, and hearing his harsh inhale from the contact spurred you on even more. 

You kissed him, hard, feeling that want from earlier come crashing back into you again. His hands stayed on your thighs, his finger span covering almost the entirety of your skin. You both allowed yourselves time to explore again, letting things heat up like they had before. His hand moved up to grip your hair, pulling it backwards as he trailed his mouth down your throat, nipping and biting tiny marks as he did so. 

Suddenly the temperature of the room increased tenfold and you felt your body begging you to do something, make another move. You maneuvered your hips to press yourself against him, his length feeling hard and stiff against you now. The guttural moan that escaped him sounded so carnal you could’ve taken him right then and there, but the risk of being caught was still heavy in your mind. 

“Wait… Jake could be back any minute…” you choked out, glancing to the metal door. 

“Guess we better fuckin' get to it, then.” He buried his face in your neck as he lifted you from the counter, carrying you through the kitchen and to his bedroom with ease. He kicked the door closed behind him as he drifted slowly to his bed, your mouths and hands still ripping at each other. 

His knee hit the mattress and he lowered you down with a bounce, immediately reaching for the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head. Without disconnecting your mouths, your hands anxiously fumbled around at his zipper, unbuttoning his jeans. It was like all shyness had left your body as you felt no shame in letting your hand grip his shaft, your hands burning to know what he felt like without the barrier of his boxers. 

“Fuck Y/N…I want you so bad…” he almost laughed at himself, pushing your shoulder back into the pillows. 

“Mmm, I can tell.” You grinned as your hand moved up and down his length, growing harder by the second. He rolled over and pulled his jeans off before towering over you again, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra in one swift motion. Your hand found him again, and this time you noticed just how much you were about to be dealing with. You weren’t sure your ever had someone his size before, and it made you fuckin' excited. 

Your mouths were connected in such a way that you felt like you’d never separate; both of you completely taken with the way the other tasted. Your hands came up to grip his face, running your fingers over his cheeks. “Can you please take that fuckin' ring off your finger? If I’m gonna fuck you I don’t want to be thinkin’ about you and another man.”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten you even had it on. You hesitated a second, knowing that it didn’t mean shit to you anymore, but something told you not to throw it away. You slid it off and placed it on the nightstand, out of sight and definitely out of mind. 

“Thank you. Now…let me see your body again, baby…” he mumbled, sitting back on his knees to pull your jeans and panties off. “You’re fuckin' stacked, you know that?”

Your mouth contorted into a devious grin, having never heard a man talk about you like this before. Peter never praised you, never complimented you or your looks, only took what he could get then fell asleep. 

Danny made you feel beautiful, made you feel empowered…his eyes stayed bewitched as he scanned from your thighs to your tits, all the way to your face again before leaning his mouth down, licking directly over your mound and up your stomach. 

His hands gripped around your hips, his fingertips gripping your asscheeks while his thumbs reached all the way to your groin…his hands were massive. He tilted his hands so that you were forced to arch, inadvertently spreading your legs apart a little as he did so. Just that movement alone made you feel used and in charge at the same time; just the sight of your body was sending him over the edge with want for you, and you liked it. 

His eyes met yours again, rushed and frenzied as he silently asked permission. You nodded a little, halfway unsure of what he was asking. 

“You taste as good as you look, baby?” He began to lay his body flat on his stomach between your legs, his hands pressing your muscles in that special way again, to make the display all the more visual for him. “You’re fuckin' soaked, god I bet you’re so sweet…” he muttered, running his tongue up and down the insides of your legs. 

You held back a little. You were absolutely dying for him to bury his face in you, but again, this was something that Peter had only done once or twice for you, and that was only because you’d asked him to. Essentially, this was new territory. A brand new experience, really. Coming from someone who actually wanted to do it. 

His tongue was traveling around still, teasing…exploring. “Can I taste you?” He asked, his deep brown eyes flickering up to yours as you anxiously let a hand down to grip in his hair. You nodded quickly, a barely audible ‘yes’ slipping from your lips. “Please.”

When his tongue finally buried in between your folds, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced in your life…obviously Peter had been doing it all wrong. His tongue buried, his lips enclosed around you…hitting all the right spots with such precision you felt like you were in the clouds. The burning, fiery, thunder-storming clouds. Your hand gripped his hair tighter as he pushed inside you, lapping his tongue side to side and up and down and pulling out again, then working tiny circles around your clit. 

You realized you’d been holding your breath the second Danny popped up, laughing a little bit. “Breathe, baby.” You could feel the peach fuzz around his mouth scratching against you as he smiled through his words, but it felt good. An added bonus, the slightly painful irritation making it feel even better as he glided side to side. 

You listened to his instruction as you let yourself inhale, his low growl giggle vibrating through your body. “God damnit, Danny…what the���” your knees came up around his ears, your thighs squeezing him together as you neared that sweet feeling beginning to take over your entire body. His hands were still gripped tightly around your hips and ass, holding you steadily exactly where he wanted you. 

Fuck, you loved feeling out of control.

But then, suddenly, you wanted more. Needed more. He began to bring his hand around to add his fingers, lightly toying at your entrance with his fingertips. 

“No, no.” You commanded, stopping him in his tracks. 

“What’s wrong, you okay?” He perked up. 

You pulled him up by his hair, urging him to kiss you again. “Yes I’m fine. Didn’t want you to do that, yet. I wanna feel you. It ruins the surprise.” You muttered through exhausted pants, kissing away the wetness that covered his face. 

His eyebrows raised in surprise, an impressed look of intrigue flowing over him. “Oh, fuck…alright then.”

You pushed him off you to lie flat on his back, completely caught off guard by the switch. “Take them off.” You demanded, but also reaching for the hem of his boxers yourself, to speed up the process. 

Once they were in a pile beside you, you hopped to all fours and placed one hand on either side of his head as his hands drifted from your back to your hips again. He was fighting himself, bucking his hips up into you as he tried to make contact. 

“Let me do it. Wanna feel every inch.” You spoke again, letting him know you were on top, you were calling the shots. His facial expression was already fucked out, still shining with the wetness from your arousal…you could tell you had him right where you wanted him. You reached between you, gripping his considerable length in your hand again as he tossed his head back with a groan. Your eyes caught the way the ink danced across his neck as it pulled tight. The spider web that stretched across his throat was so intricate, you felt caught in the web yourself. He clenched his jaw together when he finally looked at you, reaching a hand up to grip your hair back away from falling in his face. 

“Wanna see your face, baby. Do it, please, fuck…” he was writhing beneath you, and you could already tell he was going to be the lay of a lifetime. You teased your own entrance with his tip, tracing your wetness all around. When you finally lined up, you prepared yourself to take him in, knowing it had been a while, and this was going to be a stretch. 

You went slowly, feeling every centimeter enter you, the pain so sweet and so engulfing. When you finally bottomed out, he choked out a huffed sound so beautiful you wished you had it on film, the feeling of him all the way inside you so snug, he felt like he belonged there. 

“Jesus Christ Y/N…my god…” he purred, his tongue sticking out to wet his lips as you sat back up, slowly beginning a pace that you knew was going to absolutely kill you. He was unlike anything you had ever felt before, the perfect size, attached to the perfect body…his eyes finally looked up at you long enough to share a moment. His abdomen crunched in on itself when you bottomed out again, the top of his head resting on your shoulder as his hands guided you up and down. 

You finally let yourself find a rhythm, leaning into him and flicking your hips back as you sped up. You let your cries fill the room; suddenly you couldn’t care less if Jake walked in on you right now. It was heavenly, perfect in every sense of the word, and your insides were swirling and begging you to never let yourself stop. 

“God, please don’t stop, Y/N…right there…” he purred again, gripping your hair back as you rode him into oblivion. You leaned back a little, resting one hand on his thigh behind you while the other one balanced on his sternum. Your fingers danced dangerously close to another tattoo, one you hadn’t seen before. A scattering of words in German sat delicately over his heart. You wanted to ask him what it said, but you were scared to know, based on the location.

You felt him deep inside, simply rolling your hips forward and back as you let him take a look at the show. You felt him hitting you deeper this way, eliciting a whine from you that you were borderline embarrassed about. His hand shot to your core, his thumb rubbing over your clit as he bucked up again. “So fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N…I swear…” 

His praises tightened the knot that was already building inside you, the sound of him coming apart beneath you was enough to get you off by itself. Just as you were about to let it all go, you leaned down over him again, your mouth burying in his neck, biting into him as your sounds became more and more strangled, the overwhelming feeling of pure pleasure ripping through your body. 

The buildup was insane, it felt like it lasted for hours. You guessed he could tell that you were close as he began thrusting up into you, too. “Yeah baby…go for it…let me have it…”

The white light that encompassed your entire being came flashing before your eyes, your teeth clenching into the skin of his pec as you came undone, shaking with what had to have been the most intense orgasm you had ever had. You wanted to say his name, scream it into the air, let him know how good he felt inside you, but you couldn’t form a coherent word even if you wanted to. Everything went numb and dull for a split second as you came down, panting and crying out choked sounds as you relaxed. You continued riding him, though…wanting to bring him to his delicious climax too. 

“I’m close baby please, please don’t stop…” he begged, and suddenly his stomach was clenching, his dick twitching deep inside you still as he pulled you up off of him, grabbing himself in his hand to let his release flow over his hand and onto your stomach. You watched as his hand worked over his length, his eyes fixed on you as he came down, and slowed his hand. 

His eyebrows shot together as his facial expression showed you how good it felt, how pretty you looked with his cum on you… it wasn’t something you had ever let a man do before, but you swore in that second that if he made you feel that way for the rest of forever, you’d let him do just about whatever he damn well pleased. 

When you finally caught your breath, you smiled at one another, laughing and completely out of breath. 

“Christ, you were even better than I imagined, baby…” he huffed, letting his hands fly to either side of his body, careful not to drop the mess that was in his right hand. You laughed as you plopped down beside him, grinning from ear to ear as you left the afterglow set in. 

“I’ve never had a man make me feel so good in my life, Danny. I swear.” You admitted. 

“Really? Even when you did that to them?” He perked up in disbelief. 

You nodded. “Yeah, really. There were a couple of firsts in there.”

His eyebrows raised up. “Fuck… Well, I’m telling you, I never would’ve guessed that, baby. You are spectacular. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop wanting you like that.” He brought his face close to yours to lay a sweet, passionate kiss to your lips. 

You smiled sweetly back as he pulled away, looking back at you with the sweetest smirk as he made his way to the bathroom, and you suddenly found yourself completely unable to pull your lust filled eyes away from the perfect roundness of his ass. 

——

“This one okay?” You asked Danny, pulling an oversized t-shirt from his drawer. It was a dingy white and filled with holes and rips, but the fabric felt soft and comfortable. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” He smirked, laid out across his bed in nothing but his loose-fitting gray boxers, strumming away on a black acoustic guitar. His eyes had been transfixed on the wall across from you before you interrupted him…his fingers mindlessly crawling across the 6-string, plucking out a solemn little tune that wasn’t familiar. 

You crawled back up next to him on the bed, reaching across him to his nightstand to grab his box of smokes. “What are these, anyway?” You asked, opening the top flap. 

“…Not what the box says they are.” He let out a sweet laugh. “I roll my own. I blend together a few different types of tobacco to get the flavor I want.”

“Hm. That’s why yours always smell so much better than Jake’s, then?” You asked, pulling one out and running it underneath your nose. “They smell sweet…”

“Mmhm. Taste good too. Try it.” He let go of the neck of the guitar for a second, reaching to his table to grab his lighter. He flicked the ignitor and produced a flame for you, watching you intently as you brought the end of the cigarette to it, inhaling the sweet aroma into your lungs. Damn, he was right. 

“That’s really tasty…” you licked your lips together. “Even the paper is kinda sweet.” You hit it again before passing it back to him. 

“Yeah. Took me a while to get it just right. Came from stealin’ Ace’s half empty bags mostly.” He laughed at the memory. 

You tucked a pillow up under your arm as he began to play again, the cigarette hanging from his lips as the ash grew longer. His inked hands looked sinful dancing across the strings, and he was so natural at it. You caught a glimpse of the red and black triple’s 7’s tattooed on the inside of his pointer finger, and for some reason, you were sure you’d not seen it before. 

“Triple 7’s, huh?” You thought you had a pretty good idea of what it symbolized, but you wanted to see what his reasoning was. 

“Yeah, symbolizes good fortune and luck.” He pulled the smoke from his lips, tamping it out on the ashtray on the table. “Doesn’t really seem to be doin’ the job too well, does it?” He ended his sentence with a wink. “Not til’ you waltzed through the door at least.”

You began fingering with a loose string on his boxers. “I thought it meant the Holy Trinity...” 

“Means that too, I guess. But I stopped bein’ religious a long time ago.” 

The two of you were quiet a while, just the occasional sound of Jake banging around in the shop mixed with Danny’s tune to fill the air. 

“How long you been playin’?” You asked. 

His voice was getting groggy, sleep threatening him as the minutes ticked by. “Since I was 5 or 6 I guess, one of my foster families had one and I remember realizing it made a really pretty noise… I’d pick it up and run to my room and strum away on it to drown out the sound of them fighting. Seemed to help me not hear it. Then I started to actually like the way it felt in my hands…”

You were quiet for a second. “That why you play your music so loud now?”

His fingers stopped altogether as his eyes met yours. His face slowly contorted into a million different emotions at once before he looked back to the wall again, gently picking up where he left off. 

“Fuck, yeah…I guess it is…”

“Jake play guitar too?” You tried to change the subject once you realized you had maybe hit a little too close to home with your question. 

He shook his head. “No, he plays harmonica like the damned devil, though. Only does it every once in a while, but shit…he’s good at it. Every now and then we’ll get on a good drunk and play together to a big audience of ourselves.” He smiled sideways as he turned to look at you. 

“Maybe y'all can play for me sometime.” Your fingertips were sliding along the hem of his boxers. 

He sucked his bottom lip in through his teeth. “We’d love to play for you…” his eyes had started bouncing around each feature on your face, taking you in again as he moved himself closer. He pressed his lips into yours again, sweet and soft and mellow. “You know I’m gonna be thinking of you on top of me all the time now…gonna want it all the time…” he groaned through broken kisses. “Fuck… I don’t think you even know how gorgeous you looked…” 

You pressed your tongue between his lips again, the sudden new movements hitting the strings of the guitar causing them to make a crazy scratching noise. “I’ll ride you whenever the hell you want, Danny…” you breathed, huffing a breath into his mouth. And you meant it, too. 

Just as things started to get heated again, you heard Danny’s radio in the bay shoot up to 11. It was followed by a loud metallic bang, and the sound of a loud engine starting up. It startled you, and you sat up to look at the door. 

“Fuck.” Danny said shortly, rubbing his hands through his hair. 

“What was that? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, no. No, he’s not. But, we’ve just gotta—” he sputtered. You slid yourself across the bed, moving toward the door as you heard another loud thud echo through the bay. 

“What is he doing?!” you urge.

“He’s drunk. He’s trying to fix Valor.” He explained, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Valor? The fuck is Valor?” you ask. 

“The fuckin' car his dad left em.” he answers. “Only touches it when he's wasted.”

“How do you know, does he do this often?” You stood at the foot of Danny’s bed, throwing your hip out as you crossed your arms. Suddenly you heard Jake’s loud voice yelling along to the first verse of ‘Turn the Page’ by Bob Seger. “My god, is he singing?!”

Danny sat up and crawled to sit on the edge of the bed. “Y/N, listen. Every so often, Jake will go on a bender, and when he does it, he does it right. It was Ace’s dying wish for Jake to fix that car, and the only way he can bring himself to touch it, is if he’s out of his mind intoxicated. So, we just gotta let him do it. He’ll be fine, just gotta get it out of his system.” 

Wait. “So he has to be fucked up before he can even pop the hood?” This wasn’t making sense. 

Danny nodded. “Yeah, he’ll be fine, this is just how he works through it.”

“Danny, that is an extremely unhealthy way for him to be dealin’ with this…” you said quietly. He shrugged his shoulders and huffed out a breath, his expressions saying nothing more than it is what it is. 

Another bang and more loud sing-shouting bellowed off the walls again, and you decided you’d had it. You yanked the door open, and made your way out into the shop, seeing Jake looking a complete and total mess as he dipped his head low inside the belly of Valor. A cigarette rested between his lips as both of his hands disappeared deep down in the engine. 

“Ain’t it unsafe to have an open flame that close to motor oil?!” You yelled, grabbing his attention. He perked up, his eyes a deep dark black that you hadn’t seen before. There was a scowl on his face and his nostrils flared when he looked at you, absolutely absorbed in the hatred and madness he must be currently full of. “Why are you out here makin’ all this racket?” You yelled over the music. 

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the floor and stomping it out as the smoke drifted from his lips. “None of your fuckin' business.” You watched as his eyes glanced toward Danny’s room. “Get back in there and let your boyfriend serenade you to sleep.” He slurred, pulling a socket wrench from his kit. 

“Agh!” You had a knee-jerk reaction to his words. “He’s not my boyfriend…” you crossed your arms across your chest. Who the fuck does he think he is?

Jake raised his hands into the air. “Whatever! Don’t care!” He shoo’d you away with a flick of his wrist, and buried his face back into the engine, screaming the words loudly again. “Here I gooooo, on the road again!”

You decided that seeing him like this, for the reason he was like this, wasn’t going to fly if you had anything to do with it. You stomped over to the other side of the hood, standing until he felt you watching. 

“God damnit!” He yelled, dropping the tool to the floor beneath the car. When he stood back up he met your eyes again. He reached down beside his foot, pulling up a large glass bottle of liquor, taking it straight to the head. 

A handle of Maker’s. He had gone to the liquor store earlier…but where did he get the cash for something like that…? 

Oh, fuck. The fifty you saw him shove in his pocket. With the red X over Grant. 

“You used my goddamn money to buy that, didn’t you?” You spat as he swallowed, wiping the excess drips from his chin with the back of his dirty hand. “The fifty you had earlier, you took it and spent it on this?!” You were enraged. He was supposed to be using that to buy your parts. 

“Again, it’s none of your fuckin' business, Y/N!” He was spitting and slurring his words, his face red with anger and drunkenness.

“No, it is my business! That’s my money you’re drinking away right now! That’s so fucked, Jake!” You were yelling at him now. “What do you think, I’m just gonna slide you an extra fifty for your trouble?!”

He snarled his nose up, taking another swig. “Screw you, Y/N. Get the fuck out of my face.”

You stepped toward him now, your entire body raging with madness that you just couldn’t qualm. “Why don’t you yell at me, Jake. Huh? Yell at me. Take it out on me, instead of the void. You want something to be mad at? Try me…” you hit yourself in the chest a couple times, trying to get him to have the reaction you were hoping for, probably looking mighty intimidating standing there barefoot in nothing but Danny’s t-shirt. 

He stepped back away from you. “What? Why…”

“Jake, almost half of the bottle is gone. Did you go somewhere and drink before you came back? Why are you—“

“Y/N, nobody fuckin' asked for the twenty questions. Can you go the fuck back to Daniel and let me do this?! Please.” He ignored you again, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he had tears welling in his eyes. There was a long pause in the conversation. He just needed to talk…

“What if I don’t want to?” You said, your voice as meek as possible over the volume of the radio. 

That confused him. “What if I want to stay here and help you?”

“You can’t help me, Y/N.” His face fell as he slammed a wrench back into the top drawer of the kit. “Nobody can.”

“Can you let me try?” You pleaded. 

He looked directly at you, and you watched as his face softened a bit. He shrugged his shoulders and let them fall again before taking another big swig of the liquor. You leaned in, yanking the bottle from his hand, tilting it back and taking a long shot, yourself. You winced as the hot liquor went down your throat before leaning your elbows down on the panel of the car, looking down inside it at what he was working on. Thankfully a slower, quieter song had come across the radio. 

“Now, what are we dealing with, here?” You asked, hoping he’d catch the double entendre. “Tell me all about it…”

He replaced his dirty hands back down into the front end, twisting something loose as he cleared his scratchy throat. 

“It’s been seven years. Seven years today.” He said quietly as his Adam’s apple bobbed. 

“Seven years since…?”

“Since my dad…died.” He was biting his cheeks in over and over. 

“What happened, Jake?” You leaned in a little closer, brushing some dust off the top of the engine. 

Jake leaned back, reached into his pocket and pulled out a few sheets of folded up notebook paper, dirty and torn from being in the hands and pocket of a mechanic. You took it gently from his hand, and slowly opened it. 

‘April 22, 1975’. You read to yourself before scanning the rest of the hand-written note. You felt your heart sink as the words clicked in your mind. 

“Jake, is this?”

“My dad’s suicide note. Yeah. Wrote it seven years ago today.” He replied, turning a socket wrench over and over as he avoided eye contact with you. “Left it for me on my nightstand while I was asleep.”

Your heart began pounding in your chest. Fuck. You hadn’t realized that was how he passed. You swallowed hard before even trying to speak again. “So you…you found him?” 

Jake brought the bottle to his lips again, swallowing it down before passing it to you. You tilted it up, and did the same. He nodded, barely any movement in his body now. “Yeah.” His eyes were blank as they stared at the block in front of him. 

You took a chopped breath. Maybe…maybe he just needs to get it out…hell. You were no psychologist.

Finally you spoke barely above a whisper. “Where was he?”

Jake was biting the sides of his cheeks in hard, his gaunt face pulled into itself as the dark circles shadowed even more in the dim light. His eyes looked dead into yours, deep and blank, before flicking up to the ceiling behind you, then back to yours. 

You turned around slowly following his line of vision, seeing the high exposed rafter in the lofted ceiling. 

Fucking hell. 

You turned back, your eyes closed as your hands found your face, tears fighting to spring out as the image of the rafter sat burned in your brain. Jesus. 

“Jake, I-I’m so…I didn’t mean for you to have to think about that again, that must have been…” you could hardly find the words to apologize, to empathize with him, with what he must have gone through that day, finding his dad like that. Gone through every day since. There were no words. There never would be any words. “I’m so sorry, Jake. Truly.”

“S’okay. In the past, now. What’s done is done.” He shrugged, nipping the bottle again. 

“But you were just a kid, Jake…”

“Yeah, I was. Not a damn clue in the world. Had to do the growin’ up a man does in twenty years that very day.” You watched as a tiny tear escaped the outside corner of his eye, and he quickly wiped it away. “Left me with absolutely fuckin' nothin except a couple thousand dollars, that note, this fuckin' shit hole building, and every bad debt he ever had. But I had Danny with me. And Bubba. Danny was only…only fourteen.”

You felt your heart physically breaking into a million pieces for him, for both of them, thinking back to them being young teenagers and having to deal with that basically on their own…

“I’m glad you had them with you.” You agreed. 

He nodded, his eyes turning red. “Don’t know what I would’ve done if Danny wasn’t here. Hell, his voice had barely even changed and he was helping me plan our dad’s funeral after he got home from school. But you know, he never even faltered. Kid took care of me better than I took care of myself those few weeks after. Forced me to eat, kept my mind busy…” you watched as he replayed the memories, probably running through them all in his head like watching them on an old projector screen. 

“He basically kept the shop running while I stayed away from the world in my bedroom. I don’t even…” he shook his head as he collected himself. “People brought us food, Bubba was here every single day making sure we were okay…but Danny did it all. I don’t even know how he did it, he was a baby. Fuckin' workhorse…always has been.”

He took a second to rub his dirty hands over his tired eyes. “I don’t…we don’t have anybody, Y/N. No family at all.”

You reached out and cupped your hand over his, squeezing it hard as you let him talk. “Danny’s your brother.” 

“In everything but blood.” He licked his lips, turning his hand over to hold yours back. You smiled, letting him know you were still here to listen, if he wanted to continue…even if it was just the whiskey giving him confidence. 

“So you basically raised Danny, after that…” you relented. 

He shrugged his shoulders in agreement. “Yeah, I guess, kinda. I dropped out of school right before graduation, but. Made sure he made it through senior year and all that. Honestly he raised me more than I did him, if I think about it.” He smirked a little. “We learned it all together.”

His eyes completely closed and he leaned his entire body weight down on his elbows. “Teddy…Teddy was uh, in love with my mom…before I was born.” His eyebrows raised and he laid more information out on the table for you. 

“What?!” 

He swigged the bottle again. “Yup. S’why he hated my dad so much. They were both vying for her at the same time…guess Ace swept her off her feet somehow.”

“Is that why he hates you so badly?” You were starting to put the pieces together. “He sees your mom in you?”

He nodded again. “Exactly. He’s still punishing me for what my dad did to him. Or my mom, whatever. I never asked for details. That’s why he’s still after me for my dad’s money. Still heartbroken and fucked up over somethin’ that went down before I was even born. The son of a bitch.”

“That’s not fuckin' fair, Jake.”

“Preachin’ to the choir, babe.” He clicked his tongue and sent you a wink.

He squeezed your hand a few times before releasing it, and walked over to plop himself down in one of the dirty lawn chairs against the wall of the shop. You followed suit, sitting beside him in the other chair as you curled your legs up and pulled Danny’s shirt over your knees. 

“Tell me about Ace. Was he a funny guy?” You asked, trying to get him through his anguish. He grinned a little, hastily wiping his eyes again. 

“Yeah, when he wanted to be. He was always full of dumb jokes and one-liners. But he stayed quiet most of the time, buried himself in his work. Till things went south with my mom, they got into drugs for a little bit. Nothing too serious but enough to count. My dad stepped away from it but mom didn’t. Then she just…disappeared. Before I was even out of diapers. Haven’t heard from her since.”

“What’s her name?”

“Stella.”

He took a deep breath. “You don’t have to sit out here and talk to me, ya know. I’m a fuckin' drunk mess. And I ain’t real sorry about it.”

You smirked. “Hey, just keepin’ you company.” You tilted the bottle back again, almost choking on it when it hit you. “Oh my god, Jake…the other day you said Ace died the day before your eighteenth birthday, that means…tomorrow is your birthday…?”

He nodded. “Yep. The big 2-6, I guess.”

Fuck. Now you understand why. His rage makes sense…

“Well that means we gotta have you a party!” You squealed, standing from the chair. 

“No no no, it’s just another day. I don’t need no party.” You grabbed his filthy hands, standing to your feet and bringing him with you. 

“Birthdays are the most important day of the year, silly!” You started dancing around to ’Cinnamon Girl’ as it blared from Danny’s speaker high on the shelf, holding Jake’s hands as you spun yourself around. “I saw your Neil Young poster on the wall, I know you love him. Come on, dance with me, birthday boy!” You couldn’t help but to try and act and candidly as you could, anything to try and make him feel just a little bit better on the anniversary of the worst day of his life. Even if it was just making him smile for a second. 

“You see us together, chasing the moonlight, my cinnamon girlllllll.” You sang out loud. 

Which you did, kind of. He grinned a bit and rolled his eyes at you, his sticky hands gripping just the very ends of your fingertips. You didn’t know if Danny knew what you were doing out here, but you didn’t really care if he did. It was his best friend’s birthday, for Christ sake. And no one even cared. 

Jake was stumbling around, his eyes heavily hooded and red. You realized maybe the alcohol had hit him when you stood him up so fast. He stepped his feet around a little bit, hardly much of a dance at all while you swung his arms around. It did manage to bring a little bit of a smile to his face, though. 

“I do love Neil Young, you’re right. And I’m impressed you know this song.” He chuckled. “Hmm, I’m fuckin' drunk though, too. Sleepy.” He said as you dropped his hands back to his sides. “Think I’m gonna go crash out.” He looked at you through one eye, and you realized how drunk he really was. 

“Shit, are you gonna be sick?” You asked. 

“No no, just sleep. Wan’ ma bed.” He mumbled, walking over to the shop sink to wash his dirty hands. 

“Okay, let me walk you.” You offered as he finished, walking backwards as you pulled him along toward his bedroom. 

When you got inside you flicked the light on, watching as Jake kicked his coveralls, jeans, and boots off as he waddled through the room. My god, his thigh tattoo, you hadn’t seen it up close, fuck…it was a dragon. Big and black and blue with fire coming from its mouth leading directly to…

He threw himself onto the mattress, his pile of freshly-washed sheets still laying a mess on top. 

“Mmm, they smell so good I just wanna…” he curled his arms and legs up in them, wrapping up like a cocoon as he buried himself in them. 

You laughed. “Is this what having clean sheets does to a man?!”

“They’re still kinda warm from the dryer, Y/N! Come feel, come here…” he reached his hand out, pulling you down into the bed with him. You bounced a couple times from the force, but you landed directly in his arms, face to face as you ended up tangled in the sheets with him. 

“See? Still warm, aren’t they?!” He was like a giddy school kid, but what he didn’t notice was how close your faces were. You could smell the heavy liquor emanating through his pores, on his breath, and swirling through the air, but his hand that pulled you down never let go. It gripped hard on yours as you laid beside him, both of you staring at each other, feeling each other’s chests rise and fall as your heart rate skyrocketed. 

Suddenly you felt the light touch of his other hand barely grazing across your back. “Are you still scared of me?” He asked, his voice hollow and needy. 

You thought a second, realizing that if you were truly scared of him, you wouldn’t have faced the monster he was, head-on earlier. By yourself in your panties, at that. 

“No.” You said simply, and that was the truth.

The corners of his lips tilted up just slightly as he whispered. “Good.”

You got ahold of yourself, turning your face away as you fought the demons that began circling in your mind, being this close to him. 

“I know what I want for my birthday.” He slurred, rolling his head into his pillow. 

“What’s that?”

“You ta’ read me more Maya poems.” His eyes were already closing as his words barely slipped out. You knew it wouldn’t be long. You were getting tired, yourself. You reached to his nightstand where your book still sat, opening to a passage of one of your favorites. 

You began reading out loud, just louder than a whisper, watching as his eyes drifted closed, his pink lips mouthing the words right along with you. 

And without even knowing it you fell asleep there, curled up in his pile of sheets, one hand on your book, and the other wrapped up in Jake’s. 

—

JAKE POV

Even through your drunken slumber you could hear the pounding on the door. Your eyes blinked open, trying to register if it was really happening or if you were dreaming. Surely you had to be as you looked over and saw Y/N asleep next to you. She was here, in your bed, with you. Your hand rested on the skin of her stomach and you could hardly tear your eyes away from her as you took in the way she felt beneath your hand. You wanted to pull her close, smell her hair, let your fingers glide over her skin, but instead you heard the knocking on the front door continue. She began to stir from the noise, rolling to face you as you realized you needed to get up. 

You pulled the blankets off of your body, your eyes searching furiously for where your gun ended up, finally catching sight of it on the dresser. You grabbed it, and bolted through your bedroom door to find out who the fuck was knocking on your door at four in the morning. You cocked your gun, and held it behind your back as you unlocked the front door, pulling it open slightly to see who it was. Bubba? The fuck?

You pulled the door open more, “What’s wrong?” you asked in a panic. This was unlike him. He never showed up like this unless something was wrong. Your eyes glanced behind him, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. 

“You got that girl here, son?” he asks, raising a brow. 

You furrow your brows and shift your weight into your hip, “Yeah, she’s here.”

“Good. Keep ‘er here. Don’t let ‘er outta your sight. Ain’t safe for ‘er.” he warns, quietly. 

“Joey was sniffin’ around up here earlier today, askin’ questions and shit. Asked where she was, so we went and got her from the motel. She’s not goin’ back. I knew he was up to some shit.” you answer, setting your gun down on the table by the door. 

“I don’t know what exactly is goin’ down over at Teddy’s but, might be best for her to just lay low here for a while. You boys don’t let them snatch that girl, whatever you do, you hear?” he says, crossing his arms. “That’s not why I’m here though.” 

“Alright, why are you here…” you ask, wondering what couldn’t wait until the morning. 

“Got a meeting set up for you two, ‘round 3 o’clock tomorrow. Down at the old sawmill.” he answers with a gleam in his eye.

“A meeting? The fuck kind of meeting Bubba?” you ask defensively. “Three’s in the middle of the work day, I don–”

“Yer gonna wanna take this meeting, son, promise yeh.” he nods. “Just trust me. You and Daniel better go. Don’t make me look bad, boy.”

“What should we expect?” You asked. 

Bubba stepped forward, placing his hand directly on your shoulder. “Just trust me.”

“Shit, alright.” you say, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Thanks.”

“Get you some rest.” he says, tipping his chin and heading back to his car. 

The hell…

You shut the door and lock it behind you, grabbing your gun from the table, and heading towards Daniel’s room. You rap your knuckles against the door, before twisting the handle, but as you push the door, he pulls it open. “Who the fuck was that?” he asks, a slight panic in his voice.

“Bubba.”

“The fuck does he want at four in the morning?” he questions, resting his hands on the door frame. 

“He set up a meeting for us tomorrow out behind the old Willits Sawmill. No fuckin' idea what for, but said we need to be there. 3 o’clock.” you answer. 

“A meeting?”

“S’what he said. I don’t fuckin' know…” you quip.

“Whatever, we can deal with it in the morning. Where’s Y/N?” he asks, looking down the hallway. 

You run your tongue over your teeth as you huff out an answer, “My bed.”

He raises his eyebrows, “In your bed…” he pauses, hardening his jaw, “Why’s that…”

You shake your head, and look past him for a second, before letting your eyes meet his, “Why don’t you let her tell you in the morning. Get some sleep, sounds like we’ve got a long day tomorrow.” you say, clapping your hand against his back with a smug grin. 

He narrows his eyes at you, and shuts his door as you step across the hallway to your room. As you open the door you see her sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest as she picks the skin on her thumb. “What’s going on? What’s happening?” she asks nervously.

You step into the room, shutting the door behind you before placing your gun on your nightstand. She just stares at you waiting for you to answer as you let out a deep sigh. You motion for her to get back into the bed, watching as she scoots back over to the other side, letting you slide back in where you were. You pull the clean smelling blankets back up around your shoulders before grabbing her waist and pulling her close to you. You settle your head on your pillow, finally able to breathe in the scent of her hair as the words fall out of your lips in a quiet whisper, “Nothing you need to worry about tonight…”

Her body relaxes beneath your arm, and you let your eyes close, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.  

—

DANNY POV

You rolled the creeper from beneath the old GMC as you heard the garage door shut and two pairs of feet shuffling across the bay. “Well, here we are again…Like deja vu.” you quip, cutting your eyes to Y/N, as she approaches. 

You pull yourself up to meet her as Jake opens his tool kit across the bay. You let your eyes linger on him for a minute before flicking them back to Y/N.  “Thought you’d be back last night…”

She drops her shoulders and lets out a defeated sigh, “I know. I know, I was trying, I swear, but…” she pauses, looking over her shoulder at Jake, who was now in his own little world beneath the hood of the Chevy. “I went out to talk to him last night, right? Well he kinda…opened up to me a little bit, told me about his dad… about his mom…” she says, a slight lilt in her voice. “He was so drunk Danny, he even cried a little bit.” she said, almost a whisper. 

“I know. I peeked out and saw the two of you talking. Talking more than he’s talked in years. Figured I'd let him get it out. Think he needed it.” you answer truthfully.

“You saw?” she asks, and you nod your head in response. 

“Anyways, I just wanted to make sure he made it to his bed, that’s all. Asked me to just stay and talk a little more and I fell asleep. I had no idea it was the anniversary of his dad’s death. No wonder he was so messed up. Oh– and it’s his birthday today. Did you know that?” she asks. 

Oh shit, you forgot. “Oh, um, yeah I guess you’re right it is. Usually we don’t do anything. Kinda just another day around here.”

“Just another day?” she asks, face painted with shock. “Danny that’s so…That’s so sad. I wish there was something I could do…” she says with sad eyes. 

Your eyes flicked over to Jake and you caught him, seeing him flick his head up in acknowledgement, a small smile on his face. You look back at her, resting your hand on her small shoulder, “Baby, I think you did...” both of you turning to see him gently singing along with the music playing through the speakers. 

—

“So this meeting…” you start, leaning on the frame of the Chevy. Jake turns to you, setting down his tools. “Yeah, at three.”

“I was thinking, we can’t leave her here, right? Like, what if this is just a set up to get her alone?” you ask, picking the dirt from under your nails.

“Yeah I considered that. Think we’ll have to bring her with just to be safe. She can wait in the truck.” he says, pushing off the frame of the car. You follow him through the bay as he rifles through his kit in search of another tool. 

“I can take the bike, you two take the truck. Do we even know what this meeting is about?” you ask. 

“Nah, Bubba didn’t say, but I trust ‘em. S’only got our best interest, ya know.” he replies, snatching the tool from the box and walking back over to the truck. 

“I think we need to be prepared for any scenario…” you say with the raise of your eyebrows. 

“Well fuckin' obviously. No clue what we’re gonna tell Y/N though.”

“Shit, hopefully this isn’t some stupid fuckin' setup. What we got like an hour?” you ask. 

“Yeah. About. Think we should clean up, or…” he asks, turning to you.

“I mean, we could, but s’not really us, huh?” you laugh, placing your hand on his shoulder, “Hey, happy birthday brother.”

He tightens his lips and nods his head as he looks to the floor, “Ahh, thanks man. Twenty-six. Seems old.” he laughs. 

“Nah, not really, we still got a lot of livin’ left to do.” you smile, watching as he nods his head and his eyes flick over to Y/N who is lounging in a folding chair out front. 

“She was worried ‘bout you last night.” you press, hoping to hear his thoughts. 

“Yeah, came out here guns a-blazin’ and didn’t falter for a second. Talked for a bit, drank too fuckin’ much. Woke up and she was in my bed.” he says, and you feel a little relieved.

You smirk and raise an eyebrow, “She’s a sweet lil thing.”

He scoffs a laugh at you. “Guess you got to find that out for sure when I left last night, huh? Had yourselves a good ol’ time in my absence…saw your shirt must’ve been the closest thing she could grab when I got home.”

You bit your lips in, nodding as you went. “She’s fuckin’ phenomenal, man. Like, I didn’t expect that…” 

He laughed again, blushing a little. “No, she seems like a good girl. Feel like shit for all the hell we’re puttin’ her through.” he admits, wiping his hand on the rag in his back pocket. 

“You order those parts?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

“Yeah, should be here in a week or two.” he nods, leaning on the frame of the truck. 

“Make any headway with Val?” you wonder, seeing it still sitting uncovered. He shakes his head, “Nah, the old bitch still givin’ me a run for my money.”

“One of these days we’ll crack ‘er.” you say, giving him one last pat on the shoulder before returning to your side of the garage. 

—

You stand in the doorway of the truck, watching her buckle her seatbelt as Jake slides into the driver’s seat. “Listen, we aren’t really sure what’s about to go down, but just stay in the truck, lay low, and if shit goes south, get on the floorboard. Alright?” you ask, letting your thumb swipe over her cheek. She nods her head and you tip your chin, turning to head towards your bike. 

The door shuts behind you and Jake pulls out of the driveway in a cloud of dust. You quickly jump on your bike, starting it with a roar, before following closely behind them. Your heart is pounding a little extra hard as you make your way to the old abandoned sawmill, completely unsure of what or who will be waiting there for you.

His truck slows as he pulls into the cracked and pot hot riddled lot, seeing a single car parked at the far end. It’s not a car you recognize from around here and that puts you on high alert. The hair on the back of your neck stands tall as Jake parks the truck, letting you pull up next to him. 

Y/N slinks down in the seat, trying her best to stay out of sight, as Jake steps out of his truck, slamming his door shut. You lean your bike on the kickstand and walk towards him, both of you sending each other a concerned look. “Recognize it?” you murmur under your breath. 

“Nah.” he says, reaching back into his belt to cock his gun. You do the same, hoping it won’t come to that, but around here it wouldn’t be unheard of. 

The two of you walk through the crunching pavement over towards the dark green GMC Sprint, seeing a man resting against the driver’s door. He hears you approaching and pushes off the car turning to face you. The sun is in your eyes as you catch sight of his face, distorting his features until you get a little closer. You notice the car is still running, despite him not occupying it, and that too, makes you uneasy.

“Was at the poker game.” you whisper. 

“Sure was.” Jake replies, stepping up to the man. 

“Hello fellas.” the man says with a smirk. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yep, what uh– what can we do for ya?” Jake asks, with his hands on his hips. 

“Well boys, to be frank with you, I’d like to make a proposition to you.”

“You were at the game the other night. Haven’t seen you ‘round here before.” You say, crossing your arms against your chest. 

“You’re right, I was. Names Oscar, but you can call me Oz.” he says, extending his hand to shake. You stare at it for a minute in contemplation before reaching towards him and shaking his hand. Jake follows, introducing himself. 

“Oh I know who you boys are. Heard all about yehs.” he smiles.

“Heard about what?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. 

“Heard you two were some fighters.” he says, tipping his head. 

“Fighters?” Jake asks, shaking his head. 

“S’what word on the street is. Figured I’d stop in to see for myself. Talked to some folks ‘round town, told me ‘bout your little poker games, and wouldn’t you know I got what I asked for. Saw the two of yeh’s on the side of the house.” he says, tightening his lips. 

“So what, doesn’t mean we’re fighters or whatever the fuck.” Jake quips, standing firm. 

“No son, I think that’s exactly what you are.” he retorts. “That’s why I asked your friend Bubba to arrange this little meetin’. Thought this could be beneficial for both of us.” 

“You gonna get to the point?” you ask, trying to hurry things along. 

He laughs a little under his breath, “I want you two come fight for me. You win, you get a portion of the winnins’.” he says, placing his hand in his pocket. He pulls out a stack of cash, easily five-hundred bucks. “Pay off that debt of yers real quick like.”

“Fight for you? The fuck does that mean?” Jake asks, staring at the money in his hand. 

“You ever heard of Vale Tudo?” he asks, both of you shaking your heads, a little unsure of this man's motives. 

“Alright, how ‘bout… No Holds Barred fightin’?”

“Yeah.” you answer quickly, earning you a nod from him. Of course you’d heard of it, you were practically raised on it.

“Well, somethin’ like that. Real private, underground type of settin’. Think up in those there bigger cities the folks call it ‘MMA’. Got people buyin’ in, bettin’ on these fights. We ain’t talkin’ no small buy in’s neither. This is big cash. Life changin’ money.” he says, raising a brow. 

“Been lookin’ for myself a few boys to travel ‘round.” he pauses. “I think you two got the grit, and the need.”

“The need…” Jake presses.

“I know that Teddy character, he ain’t never gonna let you get ahead. But son, this is yer chance.” 

“So, you want me and Jake to come…fight, and if we win said fights we get paid?” you ask, genuinely trying to piece this together. 

“Exactly. We can work out the details, but roughly, you travel ‘round to these hosted fights, you fight favorably, we both walk home with our pockets lined.” he says. 

“And how do we know, you’re trustworthy?” Jake asks. “I’ve got a life and a livin’ to make here. Bills lined up till kingdom come and they don’t pay themselves.”

“It’d be a fight here and there, every week or two with a rest period to recover yer health and bodies. Yeh’d have time at yer shop, so it’d be unsuspectin’. That’s the point son. Don’t want the heat findin’ out ‘bout it.” he says, and you start to feel uneasy. 

“Seems…I don’t know. Why us? There’s gotta be people better suited than us…” you barter.

“Well truthfully Daniel, I’ve had my eye on you since you was ‘bout 17. Heard ‘bout the fightin’ from some folks, kept an eye on yeh. And Jacob, I know you learned from ‘em. Watched yeh myself just the other night. Ye’ve got somethin’, and I’m willin’ to take a chance on you boys if you’re willin’ to take a chance on me. If it doesn’t work out, well, hell we tried, still let you two walk away with a few hundred each for yer troubles.”

You see Jake’s brow furrow, and you know he’s considering it. You know this debt is crippling the shop, the two of you barely scraping by every week. You know this could be your chance. The only other thing you’ve ever been good at. “We gotta decide right now?” you ask, sending him a questioning look. 

“No’sir. I’ll be in town ‘nother few days, got some outstanding business. First fight ain't for another week ‘er so over in Kirksville.” he says, reaching into his pocket again, pulling out a paper business card. Jake takes it from his fingers, reading over it before handing it to you. 

“Now, you fellas think this over, give me a call once you’ve come to a decision.” he says, tipping his head. “Oh, and, for what it’s worth…” he pauses, “These buy in’s… is in the thousands range. My last fighter took home 4 grand in one night, for 5 minutes effort. Just somethin’ to consider.” and with that he slides into his idling car.

As the car pulls off in a cloud of exhaust Jake turns to you, his jaw slack and his face riddled with shock and question. “What the fuck…What was that? Wh–What do we do?”

You turn to look at him, shoving your hands in your pockets, and sucking your teeth, “Sounds like we fight.”

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[astropookie]

sarcastic astro placements

I’ll not call every sarcastic placement that exists so pls don’t come to me and be mad about it.

Scorpio mercury here🙄

Kimi ni Todoke

❦ I swear people that’s sarcastic are the most fucking attractive. Also when you find the person that matches your energy and you don’t have to make sure they understand what you said or if they’re hurt.

*Birth chart placements

Taurus Ascendant

you can add a scorpio moon + Venus 9H

I think I’ve never met a taurus ascendant before or I didn’t asked for their chart, but now I did it bc I CAN TELL. I LOVE THEM HAIDHWJF. They’re fucking sarcastic. The ones that if you’re not sarcastic you don’t know if they’re being serious or not. The first time I met her -the one that owns this placements-, she spoke with a complete serious face. What she was referring and the kind of expressions she made…you would imagine that they’re separate -the face and the way of speaking- and that they belonged to complete different situations. She have this curious, quirky and rare mindset, but of course I’m only explaining the surface. She’ll ask something out of context and the way others look at her is hilarious: they’re trying to stay calm, searching for a gesture that will tell if she was joking. Surprise: they won’t find out and later I’ll tell them she wasn’t serious or she was? -Always making it intriguing-. She is funny unintentionally. The scorpio moon obviously have effect here, she just have this dark humor. The Venus 9H is seen in her jokes, you can view how much knowledge she have, how much she knows. For example, she made a joke about the church but with arguments and explanations you’ll only own if you investigate in a deep way.

Sagittarius Mercury with Taurus degree (2°, 14°, 26°)

Yes, another taurus placement. Why? They talk with a straight serious face and you CAN’T FUCKING TELL IF THEY’RE BEING REAL BUT THATS THE THING. This time the sag placement can’t make the serious face for a long time, so eventually, they’ll laugh uncontrollably. First of all, they observe, stay attentive for what they can make fun of and then they make an specific expression and the other is history. They don’t even think twice, they say what’s on their minds. Taurus -energy brings on this placement- have this air of staying calm, invisible, no one notices and then boom, the bomb is dropped. I like to play their little game. If they say we’re going to the moon tomorrow bc yes, we’re going to the moon. I’m referring that entering their world, their mindset, it’s fucking amazing.

Mercury conjunct Neptune

This people is fucking funny, they’re SO imaginative. Their creativity is incredible and how they tell things sarcastically. Mentioning an spontaneous/ invented story. About memes, about what they just thought. They’re random. They’re not ashamed or may want to be seen like that. Funny + Imagination = 💥

Mercury square Saturn

These are little shits, they’re analytical, they observe, they point out that tiny detail and fucking joke about it for the last 12 hours or an amount of period in their friendship with you. They may struggle a lot with their minds and identifying their emotions but if it’s about others it’s the opposite. Bc they’re always alert about others reactions, opinions. They select what they say to others. Could compare of scorpio energy type. They DON’T think what they say. The first that comes to your mind when you first know them is “are they serious?”. They’re sarcastic but people can’t tell when they’re not and viceversa. They tend to say things that they didn’t want to say: confuse words, say expressions that they don’t know or use and more. So if they have THE attitude that other aspects can give them, they’ll be little shits and will stay alert for what you can say wrong and they’ll capture that to make fun of it. It’s also funny bc you can make fun of them too, they speak a whole sentence or idea when others probably won’t understand it bc they didn’t explain it well. They could come across as funny without wanting it.

Scorpio Mercury

Of course I’m putting myself here. Why? They have described me as “cold”, “little shit”, “sarcastic asf” and others. People are shocked when I open my mouth, how rough and indifferent I can seem, but in reality I’m sarcastic and they didn’t know or I’m being realistic. I love psychology and I also use it in my humor: I’m used to analyze, read trough others, their intentions and vulnerabilities. I use it as a way to cope -psychology and sarcasm-. I can tell what fields or backgrounds really affect others and I specially don’t point out them (when I’m joking or in another ways). I don’t like to insult people trough jokes, using others vulnerability it’s disgusting. Scorpio is a LOYAL sign but if you fuck with them you’re not going to come out of the situation stable/clean. I can say something REALLY sarcastic or direct that my friends have to told others “I’m used to it”. It’s a “take it or leave it” placement. I can sound sarcastic without telling or I can be really sarcastic most of the time and people can’t tell if I’m being serious. They have told me “your humor/ sarcasm is not for everyone” ok that’s true and I still dgaf. I can not gaf but it doesn’t mean I clear situations were I’ve met others for the first time and I saw how stunned/hurt they were and I had to let them knew and blablabla 🙄 Mercury in Scorpio hold a lot of power.

*Mercury Persona chart

Fire Mercury in Mercury Persona Chart

Mercury in Mercury Persona Chart is your most intimate way of speaking or the other layer, like @personachartsblog affirms. I SWEAR this people -fire mercury in mercury persona chart- talk and there’s an explosion in the room: someone’s laughing, other’s perturbed and other is done with the situation. They’re so spontaneous and say what they think. So impulsive and competitive. If you’re talking to them and you match their energy it’s going to be like ping-pong (idk if I’m explaining myself) and if you don’t match it they’re talking anyways. They’re direct and straightforward. They’re going to make fun of everything and point it out so you’re not going to be lost with their ideas/conversation/mind. They’ll be saying the most normal thing in their head and spill it out and everyone be thinking is the most random shit they’ve ever heard.

Tell me in the comments the sarcastic placements you know and how was your experience with them❣️💖💘🙈😩

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

❀ Based on my personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

❀ English is not my first language.

❀ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii��🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

[yellowcry]

A good tying point

If there were any coffee-fans in the family, it were Luisa and Pepa

@encantober-official prompt — Coffee

Coffee was pretty popular in Colombia. So, Madrigals had drank it daily. And naturally, there were avident coffee drinkers in the family.

In case of the Madrigals — a certain ginger and a giant. Pepa always felt better with after a cup. The skies were clearing with just one sip of the dark caffeinate liquid. And Luisa fell in additionate love with coffee after professionally stealing. Pepa's back when she was a child and didn't have Mirabel to cuddle yet. Since that day Pepa had to make sure her coffee is placed high where certain child couldn't get her hands on it. Well, until Luisa outgrew everyone and the high placement didn't matter at all.

But Pepa also had to admit it was nice to just sit with a cup of coffee sometimes. She and Luisa discussed it with such details that neither actually cared about. But it was fun and enjoyable way to spend time.

She took a small sip, allowing sugar to melt on her tongue. Luisa just swallowed the entire portion in one go. Her size makes it look so tiny, like porcelain toys between her fingers.

"Hey!" Pepa clicked her tongue in a fake disapproval as Luisa poured down another cup. "It's not fair, wait for me!"

Luisa chuckled. "Tia, you're the last person who can blame me,"

"I just don't want to be left out without coffee, at this rate you will drink the entire pot." Woman pouted, ringing the metal of her spoon agaist the pale brim.

They relaxed, slowly consuming a caffeinate drink. This was one way of family-quality time that wasn't risking with causing a mass destruction. Just laughing over nice hot cup of coffee. Maybe Julieta was right when she said Pepa has gotten Luisa addicted to coffee. But who made her get Mirabel so late on? And seriously, Luisa was a pretty enjoyable company. Pepa probably wasn't as close to her as she was to Isabela. But she knew she shared quite a few things with the middle girl too. Restless, when her mind always needed to be busy with something. Whenever it was a new book or another list of chores to do. And with it came the need for a stupid crave for physical activity with some idiots called 'boyish'. Oh, back when Pepa was a child, some adults seemed to put their life purpose to inform Pepa she wasn't acting like a girl. She never really bothered with them, Mama allowed her to run all over and do whatever she wanted. Besides, saying that girls can't be restless and love running around? Yeah, this was pretty bitchy opinion that deserved a punch in the nose.

Luisa was cool. Hardworking and kind for those she cared about. Pepa would never forget how she cradled Mirabel with almost motherly care when they were so little. Always making sure she didn't cause harm by accident. Even if she was a bit snappish at times, Pepa knew it wasn't much different from her. When emotions spilled out of control, making her feel terrible for breaking out.

And having a coffee-drinking companion at times was fun. Giving them some form of silent connection and way to quietly spend time together, whenever they didn't have time for more active thing to do. They did love to challenge each other with their gifts. And Luisa was the one that could possibly stand against Pepa's weather without much discomfort.

In a way it was almost iconic. Pepa needed to provide the weather to grow these beans of coffee. Sun or rain, she had controlled the process of making them rich, impregnated with sun. And Luisa chores definitely had included collecting the coffee. Then again, before the whole rebuild thing it was harder to think what kind of work Luisa wasn't doing. And now they both sat and used the coffee they had made with all this care.

Call Pepa a bit too passionate, but she would never imagine her day without a nice cup of coffee. It had guaranteed no clouds in the morning. Allowing Pepa to shine with her favorite taste. Who could blame her? It tasted so good. And Luisa had shared this trait. Jumping in when the middle of the day to get a cup. Ignoring the sweat that would come from a steaming drink. Because, as Pepa assumed, manual labor made Luisa drip with the thick stickiness way more than any coffee ever could.

When Pepa needed a company or some relaxing talk, getting Luisa on a cup of coffee was the best way for it to come. And it also gave both an excuse to drink once again. She adored some good relaxation, with a nice drink to share. Just don't tell their sisters.

[dawn-moths]

Hi can i have number 27 with cerulean gaze touya please?

you can absolutely have #27 with cerulean gaze touya ☺️

prompt: kissing to make them stop talking

character: dabi/touya (boku no hero academia // a storm pairs well with a cerulean gaze)

words: 2000+

content warning: 18+ content! minors please dni! reference to past trauma/ptsd, a very messy and passionate kiss.

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“You’re late,” you say the moment you hear the front door to your tiny apartment swing open with a short creak, sticking a little before being forced the rest of the way closed as the cheap wood swells with the summer’s humidity. You hope your words come out sounding annoyed with a tiny flicker of anger, but your true emotions betray you.

Because you were so worried— have been sitting on the couch anxiously counting each ticking of the wall clock with your mind scurrying off to all the worst case scenarios it can think of— ever since it passed over an hour since Touya had texted you that he was on his way home from work.

It normally only took him fifteen minutes to get home if he didn’t have any quick on-the-way stops to make, speeding back to you on his old, beat up bike, looking forward to seeing your comfortingly familiar face each and every time, always drawn back into your orbit no matter how far he traveled.

And you had been lucky, for the most part, that nothing had followed Touya from his old life to sink its fangs into the new one you two shared. No ghosts hunting him and eager to haunt his mundane peace ever since he’d let Dabi sink to the bottom of the bay, brushed the ash from his hands, and walked away.

But that didn’t mean that you still didn’t worry.

Because sometimes, when he was running late or took too long to respond or wouldn’t pick up your calls, one of those little demons with tiny, razor claws still embedded like a thorn in your memory hissed out an eerie reminder of, “What if something terrible has happened? What if tonight’s the night he doesn’t come home?”

“Shit— I know, sorry…” Touya quickly apologized, kicking off his boots and hanging his motorcycle helmet on its usual hook on the wall beside the door, tossing his jacket onto the back of the kitchen chair just a few feet away. You don’t turn to face him as you hear the jingling of keys shoved hastily into his pocket and his footsteps hurrying over to the couch, can barely convince yourself to look up into those striking cerulean eyes as he stands before you and continues with only slightly less urgency, “Right as I was about to close up the owner came by and said he had to run through some of next week’s shipment details with me…”

You’re trying to make him feel guilty, though usually in the aftermath you’re able to realize how unfair that is, but you can’t help it. You still won’t look at him, though it has less to do with the fact you were trying to drive home your displeasure with his actions and more so that, if you did, you knew there was a very good chance you’d end up crying right now.

Because you just couldn’t get the image out of your head— the visual of one of Chisaki’s guys trailing Touya on his bike and pulling up beside him as he parked in the spot reserved for him outside the complex, the fatal gunshot ringing out from beyond the window, your boyfriend’s body crumpled on the concrete in a blossoming puddle of blood as you gaze down at it from above— or another past enemy out for revenge, walking into the little coffee shop Touya loved working at so much with all its handcrafted mugs made by local artists and all the nutty, smoky, herbal scents of the freshest batch brewed, recognizing Touya’s distinct face— the face he used to share with Dabi, back when he’d gone by that name— and stabbing him at the register, leaving his body slumped behind the counter where he probably wouldn’t be found till the next morning.

They were visions that infected your dreams, poisoning you from the inside out and sometimes leaving you a trembling, terrified husk of yourself as you wept and hyperventilated, curled in on yourself in the empty bathtub or under every blanket on the bed as the trauma you’d sustained from back then sank its vicious, gnashing teeth into the fleshy, vulnerable parts of your mind.

Sometimes Touya was there to help you through these episodes, help you out of them, whether with his arms around you or just with his voice coming out slightly tinny through the speakers of your phone. Sometimes you had to ride it out until he returned home and either found you caught in the middle or lingering in the aftermath, eyes glassy and hollow and cheeks still streaked with the evidence of dried salt.

And in the end, he’d convince you that everything was alright. That he was alright. And that, so long as he had you, he always would be.

But it turned out it didn’t even take looking at him this time to cause tears to well and spill from your eyes, shallow breaths silently hitching in your chest as your greatest fears won yet another battle inside of your brain.

“Hey, hey…” Touya was crouched before you now, both of his big, slender, tattooed hands resting on your upper thighs, gently kneading them with reassurance as he reminded you, “It’s ok… I’m right here… I’m right here, I got you… Hey…”

You flung your arms around him, pulling him closer as you continued to cry into his shoulder, breathing in his scent of coffee and campfire smoke with the smallest twinge of nicotine and feeling just a little bit calmer for it.

“When you don’t come home on time I—” you choked out, your voice reduced to a feeble squeak as you squeezed your eyes shut and drew in a deep breath, exhaling it with a shudder. “I just worry that— I get scared that— What if—”

You couldn’t seem to speak any of those grim possibilities into existence, afraid saying them out loud would make them so, sputtering out half sentences until all your words turned so frantic they ceased to make any sense at all.

“Hey…” Touya was cupping your face in his hands now, gazing deep into your bloodshot eyes, searching for something, or perhaps trying to lead you out from your own treacherous fog. “I’m ok,” he repeated, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours and dropping his voice to a placating whisper. “I’m right here. We’re together in the apartment. Nothing bad has happened. We’re both ok…”

Things seemed to stay like that for a long time, just the two of you gently pressing foreheads until your breathing slowed and your tears ceased to fall. All the while, Touya was stroking your jaw with the calloused pad of his thumb in slow, soothing motions, quietly shushing you and repeating his affirmations of safety until you seemed to come back to him, come back to yourself.

“There we go…” he said with a sliver of a smile as he pulled back just far enough for you to lock eyes with him again. “There she is, that’s my girl… You’re ok, see…?”

And you believed him now, believed that the two of you were safe so long as you had each other, and almost was able to manage a crooked grin of your own until suddenly a new wave of your initial anger ignited in your chest again, a slight scowl twitching back onto your brow.

“You need to let me know next time you get caught up,” you told him. “Please, Touya. Just a simple text will do. It’s just— It’s torture sitting here thinking something bad happened to you when so much time has gone by. Please, please, I—”

Before you could say another word, Touya’s mouth was locking onto yours, his tongue teasing at the seam of your lips until you obediently parted them for him, flooded by the familiar heat of his kiss.

He could be so passionate sometimes, striking a match within you and tossing it to the dry brush of your ivory bones until your entire being was alight with a raging wildfire, both of you frantically grabbing for each other, being pushed up against doors or walls or counters, fingers tangling in and pulling hair, nails raking down backs, gasping and moaning and aching with pleasure, that neither of you could escape the blaze.

Other times, like right now, he knew how to let his love burn like a candle, flame slowly eating down the brittle wick inside of you as the sweet, sticky feeling of arousal pooled molten in your belly, coating your veins in a tender, honey-dipped kind of desire.

No matter if you were cross at him or craving him, the second method worked each and every time. And pretty soon, all you’d be able to focus on was just how much your body wanted his, all other thoughts reduced to delicate, snowy ash and blown away by the breeze.

“Tou—!” you attempted to say as you drew in a gasp of air, but he only gave you half a second to catch your breath before going back for more, nipping at your bottom lip and giving the plush, sensitive flesh a light tug, letting you feel him smirk against your lips as he hummed out a note of mischievous amusement after you let out a startled squeak.

And you were positively melting into him now, letting out muffled moans that he swallowed down with each new, languid lick into your sweet little mouth. You couldn’t resist the taste of each other, his flavor being the dark, bitter kind laced with something subtly spicy, while yours was light and fresh and just the tiniest bit sweet with the piece of hard candy you’d sucked on after dinner, saliva exchanging between the two of you until your two distinct flavors merged into the one that only you and Touya had ever tasted.

Touya was addicted your soft little mewls and delightfully adorable whimpers as he deepened the kiss, and you couldn’t get enough of his lilting, smoky hums, both of you memorizing the map of each other’s mouths, the ridges of each other’s tongues, the shape of each other’s teeth, and pretty soon you couldn’t even remember what you’d been so mad about in the first place.

Because here, like this, there were no worries, no sorrows, no traumas to chase away.

There was only his careful hands, now beginning to find their way to the hem of your shirt and making your stomach flinch as they ghosted over your skin, and his ever present warmth and the skillful way his mouth knew exactly what to do to make more of that sickly sweet desire roll over inside of you.

The next time he pulled back to admire your flushed face, a thin strand of saliva bowing and snapping between your mouths, Touya licking it up as he combed his long fingers through a few loose tangles in your hair and admiring the way your split-slick lips shone under the dim lamplight, he knew his apology had at least been a little bit accepted.

However, the way your pupils were blown wide with want and your eager little hands threaded through the inky tufts at the base of his skull and gave a tiny, impatient tug told Touya that he’d probably have to do a lot more than just kiss you after making you wait so long.

“I promise to text you next time,” he said, sounding truly sorry that time, though still couldn’t help but flash just a spark of a smug smirk at your disheveled state.

You gave his cheek a light, loving nudge with your nose, your anger dissolving like sugar in water, and replied in a hushed tone, “You better…” before beginning to press more soft pecks to his jaw.

But then Touya’s hands were finding purchase under your soft thighs, lifting you from the sofa as he stood, cradling you in his lithe grasp and starting for the bedroom.

He gave your neck a teasing, featherlight kiss when you tried to nuzzle into him further and said through a breathy chuckle, “Don’t believe me? Well, then I guess I’ll just have to show you how sorry I am.”

Needless to say, after tonight, he’d be fully forgiven. Though, he didn’t think you’d mind so much if he ever made the same mistake again in the future and had to apologize.

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send me a number from this prompt list + one of the characters i write for and i’ll write a short lil something for you 💕

[sweetchildcloud]

||animal terapy|| written by me

(This writing is based on my jujutsu farm AU)

Plot: what if Geto becamed a farmer instead of being the villain? Lucky of him that you have your own animal shelter.

Cw:depression,sad,reader helps a cow giving birth (not detailed)

Tags:comfort,cute,fluffy animals,hamsters :3,firstborn veal.

Geto’s expression is blank, his face almost empty and devoid of emotion. Despite all that, he lets out a small gasp when he sees Kiko. It was a small creature he could see himself being fond of in a different life. Even though he didn’t show it, he really liked hamsters and he enjoyed caring for them and teaching them tricks. It could be his only escape from the stress of everything going on around him. He took the hamster gently in his hands, nodding as he took the treats and tea from you.

Kiko streched as he started moving inspencting Geto's hand,he laughed in spite of himself, feeling the tiniest of smiles begin to play at the corners of his mouth as Kiko tickled him. Even though his expression didn’t reflect it, he really did love animals and found them to be great companions. It was his one true love. He placed him on his lap, caressing his fur as the little critter crawled around him. "you really do like hamsters uh?" you asked as you entered Geto apartment closing the door and placing the bag on the floor. “Yes, animals are so much better than people.” Geto said, smiling down at his new pet. He loved how simple and easy they were compared to humans. It was impossible to truly understand the mind of a human being. However, the motivations of an animal were much easier to understand, such as getting attention or simply feeling warm and safe. He liked the fact that pets didn’t need complex psychological explanations for their behaviour. They simply behaved as they did and that was it. The simpler the better.

"How do you feel?" “I’m miserable. As usual.” Geto sighed, his depressed state becoming very apparent when he spoke. He ran a hand through his dirty hair, letting out another sigh. He was usually better at maintaining his composure, but as of late, it was much harder. He simply couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. That was what he liked about animals. No matter how much you cared or not, they still loved you, wanting to be near you. The same couldn’t be said for people.

"I'm sorry that I'm not much of help but I'm trying" you said remorseful but Geto shrugged, looking down at the hamster. People were complex. There was never a simple answer when it came to understanding their behaviour. It was exhausting. But with animals, the most complex thing about them was probably...their diet? Their daily routines? But there was never anything too deep when it came to understanding an animal. Pets were a way to make things simpler, to have a clear goal: feeding them, taking them on walks, playing with them...

the hamster relaxed so much in Geto embrace that he become flat as a pancake closing is little eyes "aww look at him"

Geto laughed, his expression less blank as Kiko relaxed in his hands. His heart almost melted at the adorable sight, the hamster seeming like such an innocent little creature. He was just...so cute. Something about his tiny, fluffy and round form made Geto feel a little less terrible. At least he got to see this little thing enjoy is life. It was almost therapeutic.

"You can take care of him, I have many other therapeutic animals in my shelter anyway..wait" you said as you were thinking about something "what if you came to my shelter and play with some of the animals there? I have horses,parrots and even a fish"

Geto thought about it. Going to the shelter would mean getting out of bed, which sounded absolutely dreadful. However, the offer did intrigue him, especially the opportunity to interact with so many different animals. It might even be relaxing. Besides, that cute little hamster was already brightening up his mood by a bit. He looked up at you with dull eyes as he reluctantly nodded.

Later that day

He arrived with his typical messy hair and dull outfit at the shelter. As he stepped through the gates, he was immediately greeted by the various noises of the animals, which filled the air with a certain degree of peace. From birds cheeping and chirping to dogs barking and cats purring, all this sounds seemed to soothe his mind and heart slightly. He saw chickens roaming freely and even a few cows. He couldn’t help but smile.

It was refreshing to see animals running freely with no restraint. The freedom they enjoyed was a beautiful sight to behold. He took a deep breath, the smells of various animals mixing together creating a beautiful and enticing scent. The shelter was a peaceful place, away from all the stress and worries of the outside world, but most importantly, there were plenty of cute and friendly animals to interact with, which was exactly what he needed right now.

He couldn’t help but feel a little envious of the various animals as he saw them running around. Their lives were simple and mostly peaceful, far away from the stresses and dangers of the human world. They didn’t worry about bills, money, or work, living completely carefree. It made Geto feel a bit better, seeing these animals and how they seemed so content. It made him rethink his own life choices and priorities. He wondered if the life of a farmer or rancher would suit him better. Or maybe he should move to a countryside...

"Oh,hey Geto!" You said happily inside a barn as you were helping a cow giving birth.

Your cheerful voice startled him. He looked up and saw you in the corner of the barn caring for a pregnant cow. The barn was warm and smelled like hay, the cow lying on the floor and groaning softly as you helped her give birth. Geto couldn't help but feel a little jealous of the animal that was lucky enough to have someone like you care for her. He wondered if he was ever going to feel loved as well...

You continued to comfort the cow and make sure everything was going smoothly. The cow grunted and strained, the calf soon being pushed out with a loud muuuuhhhh. The calf landed on the hay as it let out a small cry, breathing hard from the effort. You smiled brightly as you looked over at the adorable little creature, its small frame and warm coat. You turned your attention back to the cow as you tended to her afterbirth, making sure she was recovering well. You didn't notice Geto watching you from the corner, his expression bittersweet.

You gently placed the baby cow near her mother and she immediately started licking it clean

"Phew well that wasn't a good first impression,eh Ge-" "Can I come closer?"

Geto asked looking at the baby cow with admiration and tenderness.

You almost jumped as Geto’s voice startled you. You nodded quietly, allowing him to enter the barn. The barn was filled with various farm animals. There was a barncat sleeping on top of one of the haybales. And the cow was still resting after giving birth, looking down at her offspring with pride and affection. Geto walked over to the calf and gently picked it up, his eyes wide with amazement as he admired its soft features.

The baby cow was absolutely adorable and Geto felt his heart warm slightly as he looked at it. The tiny creature was so fragile and precious, and the way the mother cow was looking at its own offspring with so much tenderness and protectiveness made his heart melt a little. The cow began to slowly stand up, making Geto quickly place the baby cow back on the ground. The cow walked over to its child and sniffed at it, licking it softly in a way to reassure the calf.

The cow nuzzled the calf and the little thing immediately began to nurse, sucking on one of the cows utters. It was one of the cuter and more heartwarming moments he had seen in a long time. His heart felt a little lighter, and he couldn’t help but notice how peaceful this entire scene was. Perhaps he had been too harsh on himself lately and simply needed to enjoy the little things in life more. After all, what more could he ask for than being surrounded by animals, which offered unconditional love and comfort.

"Come let me show you the other animals" you said placing a hand on his shoulder

You started to lead him out of the barn, taking him to various enclosures where more cute and unusual animals were being kept. There were horses, cats and parrots, all of which he enjoyed seeing. You seemed to know that he needed a distraction, as you led him to various parts of the shelter. Each animal seemed to bring him some degree of happiness, even for a moment. It was a pleasant change of tempo from his normal routine, which was mostly filled with stress and negativity.

"Aaand this is just for you" you said as you opened the sliding door full of hamsters "I know you love Kiko so I tought this would help"

His eyes immediately lit up as he saw a whole room full of hamsters. They were walking around, exploring and playing with each other. They were even having their own little wars, biting and chasing each other in an adorable ball of fluff. The room seemed like nothing but pure joy, not a single unhappy or unpleasant sound to be heard. Their small but powerful and high pitched squeaks and squeals made him chuckle, feeling almost childishly pleased. He took a step forward, wanting to be among them.

The hamsters seemed to have picked up on his presence because they all stopped and looked towards him. They had various shapes and colours, some being white, others black, some having spots, while others were just plain coloured. It was an amusing site to behold as they slowly approached him, seeming surprisingly friendly for such tiny balls of fluff. They climbed up his legs and on his hands, sniffing curiously and exploring his features. The sensation of their tiny feet on his skin made him laugh as he let the hamster army conquer his body.

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It will end here for now maybe I will do part two idk but let me know if you want more of this.

Geto probably at the end of my au serie

[salamispots]

I woke up at 3:45 am with shrine music in my brain so I'm gonna yell a little about totk spoilers below fhhhhh mostly about game things no real plot stuff haha

the intRO :'D that mononoke touch ahhhhh idk why but specifically the scene/shot of link's hearts going down from the wiggly worm demon smoke thing is stuck in my brain/makes me feel emotional

also the whole 'I was gone for a bit and the world looks different but sort of the same/everyone moved on' made me feel a little like the evangelion movie when shinji wakes up and he's still the same gives me feeLINGS not necessarily bad; maybe a little bittersweet? idk

I keep giggling at how GOOFY some of the weapons look when they're fused and the names (like...thick stick stick or something LMAO)

the glee of using a rocket for the first time also I'm building the most basic shit hahah I'm not particularly good/creative at stuff like this

ahhhh I loved how there's still those big stone talus in the game and the first one I come across is disguised as a base for bokoblin

the instantaneous fuck off panic of running into those red arm/hands and panicking because you run out of stamina while running away hahah

speaking of tHE MUSIC OH MY GOD I love the shrine music so much? and the first time when you go to the depths when you're falling the tone shift is so eerie

exploring too far into an area where you're too underleveled and getting one hit killed by something haha

when you leave the sky islands for the first time I was hanging out at the very top and was like...surely they're not saying just to jump off? I thought you were supposed to build something to get down but I sorta just fell off for the heck of it and I was extremely charmed by the fact that they said yes you can jump off and just dive into some random body of water from miles above in the sky and again I love the music for that/when you're first introduced to the sky islands

sky islands fun but it's nice being on the ground hahahfg/having a glider now and not constantly breaking into a sweat at hEIGHTS haha like....I went to the top of the temple and crawled all the way around to the other side of the locked doors lmao but the amount of times I slipped and fell of those tiny ledges

I still love freefalling and using the glider at the last second

running into a tree for the first time HAHA and the ominous tiptoeing after you

also yeah controls feel better now/just had to play more but I still definitely keep pressing the wrong buttons for things

I think once I got off the sky islands and to the ground that was kinda when I got fully invested? like again before actually buying the game and playing it I was kinda like ehhh I'll probably play it some point

also the game reigniting my need for link zelda ganon ot3 content :'D

the fondness of having character designs be 3/4 torso ahahha

PURAH I love her ouTFIT

the little detail of chasing fish and the fish trying to escape actually beached themselves on the shore??

LINK HUMMING WHILE COOKING I've only recognized one song so far (saw someone on reddit say they also heard song of storms and it clicked in my brain so now two haha)

oh! I love the amount of nooks and crannies to explore! like all the wells and caves >:0

ngl didn't end up finishing botw (I absolutely did look up the ending before I played totk HAHA >:'D ) because I ended up exploring the majority of the map/got bored after that and I didn't particularly like how the map felt empty/the same after a while? idk if the same thing will pop up again for me in totk but I do like how there's some new enemies and it feels more lively so far? we'll see

ALSO LMAO fighting bokoblins with a moblin and the moblin just straight picking up a bokoblin and throwing it at me??

[rokirokiro]

Love Declaration Imp♡ct

Kaedehara Kazuha. A man that I believe is a carefree man who believes everything happened within a reason. even the simplest things as brewing one's tea out off willingness considers as endearing in his eyes. he appreciates tiny details, and would return the same. he thinks more than he talks, but whenever he does, 'flowers comes out instead of words'.

♡!

I say he's the bashful type when it comes to confessing his feelings. True, he might be bold with his words, but how could one be honest and directly say those simple yet powerful three words without stumbling upon each letters and embarrasses oneself? He can't, especially when you looked at him with those eyes, those lovely eyes he dared to exclaim that he'd stare for hours. those charming pairs that he wished to be his, as well as your soul. oh how he wished to be yours, and you to be his.

he made days of silent planning on how to let you know the content of his heart, spending days on thinking about the perfect confession he could offer to you as he goes on a little adventure with Beidou's crew, listening to the music of the oceans and waves splashing to the wooden ship.

But the nature tolds him, (or which he concluded),

that it needn't to be Perfect.

it just need to be true.

it just need his heart to pour onto.

it just need to be exactly what he thought.

And so,

he picked up a quill, dripping the tip on the dark night ink and began writing. a poem, a love confession. whatever it's called to inform someone about the availability of their heart to the other.

The nature also concluded,

that he needed to pour his entire heart onto the very piece of papyrus, which would change the two souls relationship forever. every alphabets sealed a piece of his heart onto them, and a misfortune result would break him entirely.

he's aware of the risk.

yet love need sacrifices.

. . . . . . . .

and when it finally reached your hands and eyes, it also reached your heart too.

◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡LETTER♡⋆♡●⑅◌

To my dearest darling,

I'm in love with you. I aware that these words shouldn't be written on the very beginning of the letter, but I apologize for the spoil. As I can barely hang on anymore. I can't keep these feelings anymore that I really had to just write them down so quickly, so please consider thinking this letter as the summary of the diary of my heart. I've been wanting to tell you, no, desperately wanting to tell you that I'm in love with you, my angel. Love feels like an understatement, as I'd give you my whole, just like how you did. your smile alone becomes the sole reason of my gleeful days, the sweet soft redness adorning your cheeks is so adorable. you never stop making me fall in love like the first time again and again, lovely. you just never realized it, because you've been the sweetest since the very beginning and blinded from your own charms. and I'm violently attracted to you.

I love you, yesterday, today, tomorrow and to the eternity. I love you, I love you for eternity, I'm just so in love, I love you so so much. I love you, I am so in love, I want this feeling to never stop.

I love you, I love you, I love you..

(♡˙︶˙♡)

he just can't stop writing the three words. as if a force of nature just moved his hand to paint the letter with the dark ink, declaring his love oh so passionately. you'd notice parts of the paper have some tears stains too, he was probably so emotional as he writes this.

<♡~What do you think?~♡>

[cloudcountry]

♡ AUBURN'S MUTUALS !! (there's more of you than i thought HELP)

@tinyletterz / 🍙 — my friend since forever ago, genuinely one of the kindest people i have ever met. she's so cute and she writes beautifully!!!! i highly HIGHLY recommend her flower language series GFGRGRGRGRFRFR

@identity-theft-101 / 🪓 — bonded over mushroom stayed for the eels tbh!! chaos incarnate BUT he has a cute bird named asa that said she loves me so i'm winning

@names-are-dumb / 🐚 — i'm so glad i got to introduce them to twisted wonderland. i am reliving my own experience through him rn. IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE OCTAVINELLE GRAHHH!!!!! one month later and we're married he's my husband and my angelfish that i write cringe ass sonnets too and i adore him <33 muah muah

@merotwst / 🧶 — LITERALLY SO SWEET OMG. she's so warm and welcoming its no wonder people just gravitate to her :C i adore her tbh she made me feel so welcomed even though i'm still scared of most twst writers LMAO

@shkrmpp / 🦐 — one of my first moots!!! personally i really love their hair dye headcanons GRAH they're so cute BUT!! they also draw C:< AND ITS A CUTE STYLE. plus their blog always looks MUAH

@siren-serenity / 🌙 — YOU'RE EVIL I STILL THINK ABOUT "i need you" WHY DID YOU WRITE THAT /lh no but actually you're so good at writing angst that rips my heart out like. if i want to sob i'm going for your azul angst (ITS A GOOD THING PROMISE)

@siphoklansan / ☔ — BEAUTIFUL ART. STUNNING. i love love love how much detail she puts into her pieces (yes i am thinking abt the floyd piece for the lipstick challenge ITS SO CUTE) AND SHE DREW STUFF BASED ON THE SONG HEART ATTACK AND I THINK ABOUT IT EVERY DAY.

@fukashiin / 💌 — silly little goofy deuce rambles and omg the leech twins. I REREAD THE STARING THINGY SHE WROTE OVER AND OVER AZULLLL AZUL'S PART IS SO %@$!%##@%!$#$%@!$#%@$!#%!@%#$!@#$%

@ryuubff / 🪼 — omg there is literally so much i could say about them. my first obey me mutual. the first person who was alike "omg let's create solomon content together." i love talking to them sm and honestly they deserves the best because they're so kind and creative C: WAHHHH

@hisui-dreamer / 🌟 — SO SWEET. i know i'm saying a lot but i have so many mutuals that made me feel so welcomed and rinna was one of them. every single piece of work you'll find on that blog is brewing with emotions and gentle care I LOVE.,,.., I LOVE!!!!!!

@officialdaydreamer00 / 🌠 — ?!?!?!?! ALSO INCREDIBLY KIND AND SO SO CREATIVE!!!! they draw me things all the time and it literally melts my heart :((( i love lov love talking to them about octavinelle and they're super easy to connect with :(((

@the-v-lociraptor / 💙 — we literally just became moots a little bit ago BUT i find a lot of good fanart through her!! she reblogs a lot of cool stuff :D !!!!!

@ceruleancattail / 🔷 — I FORGOT TOW RITE SMTH HELP EM anyways <33 ceru writes some cute ass shit that makes me kick my feet and squeal (AND ALL THE AZUL CONTENT I HAVENT BINGED YET....UGH IM SO EXCITED)

@i-like-forgs / 💪 — appreciator of sand cats and draws a lot!! the creator of my wedding venue with azul and enabler of so many of my ramble i am clinging to his ankle as he drags me around

@valerie-leech / 💚 — we just started talking but they're part of the auburn azul wedding squad!! :D im excited to interact with them <3

@twst-beam / 🎉 — we also haven't talked a lot yet but i can't wait to get to know her better C: !!

@iseethatimicy / 💎 — a fellow azul kisser!! i finally found another one!! :D has an unholy amount of azul memes i do not know where they come from (probably pinterest) but they are Fascinating

@acornwinter / 💫 — sends random shit in my inbox because they started talking about their dreams once and i decided Yes!! and now they draw my ocs and its super cute and i love their little tiny ppl drawings C:

@totallymem3 / 🥀 — we just started talking but!! very sweet <33 her art style is just MMMMUAH CHEFS KISS!!!!!!!!! i love it. it reminds me of spring.

@z3llous / 🐸 — draws azul SOOOOO good i love lovelovlevoevloev his art!!! its so scrumptious i eat it all up for breakfast lunch dinner ON NOMNOM

@cecilebutcher / 🪩 — has a bunch of really cool ocs!!! igor my belobed /p they have such a creative mind and its a pleasure to listen to them ramble about the characters they created!!! :D

@ang33333333l / 🙏 — another azul kisser!! we haven't talked much but i can tell doll is a very sweet person <33

@axvwriter / 👻 — SHE HAS AZUL'S DORM UNIFORM AND IM SO JEALOUS. LITERALLY SO UNFAIR.

@soru-ya / 🍞 — THEY WROTE AROACE CONTENT FOR ME :((((( CRYING RN they're such a good writer please go check them out PLEASE im begging you

@rains-asleep / 🐝 — ANOTHE RGOOD WRITER WHAWHWAHWHAHWA <33333 we had such a deep conversation about caramel once it was enlightening.

@shinysparklesapphires / 🎀 — floods my inbox with precure stuff and now its next on my watch list. started the laura and azul siblings conspiracy :O !!!!!

@twistedchatterboxed / 🌊 — The jade kisser ever. we have a lot of mutual moots (hehe say that ten times fast) so i'm excited to get to know her better!! :D

@keii01 / 🍡 — she's so sweet i want to put her in my pocket and carry her around everywhere i go!! she draws a lot of cute stuff too (there is no such thing as too many ribbons <3)

@tsun0tar0u / 🐉 — showed me a genshin glitch once and i have never been the same. also i would die for kafka btw. normal about rollo btw. So Normal.

@non-binary-lil-shit / 🍄 — enables my marine bio and mycology rambling!! also i am very concerned for you C:

@queen-shiba / 🦁 — your profile theme is literally so pretty i am eating it right now (IDK I JUST LOVE ORANGE) also the leona blender post made me so confused but also i laughed really hard HELP

@vioisgoinginsane / 💜 — she likes some vampire game i think LMAO but the twst content? YUMMY. a writer once in a blue moon and apparently best known for the BITING ROOK HUNT post. GET IT!!!

@moonlit-midnight / 🌸 — hannah is such a good writer :(( WRITES PLATONIC FICS DID YOU HEAR THAT EVERYONE!!! PLATONIC FICS!!!!!!! they're all so adorable and make me want to curl up under a blanket with a mug of hot chocolate <3

@ryker-writes / 🦚 — asked about to deep sea and LET ME TELL YOU i got so excited about it and im still writing it hehe. ryker writes a lot of familial angst so its that your thing go for it!!

@datboredpencil / 💀♦️ — GORGEUYS ART ABSOLUTELY SCRUMPTIOUS YUMY UMY UM AN ENTIRE BUFFET!!!! theres a lot of idia x cater content too if thats youre thing!!! :D

@twistwonderlanddevotee / 🪷 — we havent talked a lot but im still happy to have you here!! :D

@beeirdos-buzzing-bogaloo / 🐥 — apparently very normal about sebek. the Most normal. we havent talked a lot but hes silly :D

@dove-da-birb / 🪿 — literally so funny. putting you in my pocket right now!! ALSO I LOVE YOUR BRAINROTTING HELP

@loser-jpg / 😬 — YOUR BEWILDERMENT AT MY DASH SPAMMING WAS REALLY FUNNY i hope you get used to it </3

@ashipiko / 🌺 — THE #1 ACE KISSER EVER???? her art is so munchy and yummy i want to eat it :(( HER STYLE IS SO CUTE SRSLY IF YOU HAVENT SEEN HER ART YET PLEASE CHECK IT OUT

@shyhaya / you should pick an emoji!! — wrote the most fantastic delicious delightful heart wrenching thing for azul and tagged ME in it :(((( AAAAAA IM SO SORRY I DIDNT SEE IT SOONER. IF YOU EVER WRITE FOR AZUL AGAIN PLEASE TAG ME I'D LOVE TO SEE IT.

@musicalhistorical / 👹 — omg hi quotev person you've been putting up w my bullshit since forever ITS SO FUNNY TO SEE YOU HERE LMAO

@thehollowwriter / 🎶 — ITS LITERALLY A CRIME I HAVENT FOUND YORU WRITING SOONER??? WHY HAVENT I SEEN IT??? IM GOING TO BINGE YOUR AZUL FICS RIGHT NOW EVERYONE SHUT UP I AM SHAKING YOU AROUND QUINN

♡ AUBURN'S ANONS!!

magical girl anon

seahorse anon

❤️ anon

[seraph-of-sizes]

Broken Homes of Different Sizes pt4

Borrower Lyney and Lynette, Human Freminet (Slight au with borrowers existing, everything else is the same as canon)

--------------------------------------------------------------

Freminet stared at his knuckles where they sat pressed against the wall before him. The almost echoing noise had left him a little stunned.

There were tiny people on the other side of this thin sheet of sheetrock. Suddenly it dawned on him that his knock had probably terrified them. He had knocked on their house.

All of the myths about Borrowers he had read came rushing through his mind and immediately was followed by guilt.

Slowly, he knocked again, far softer than his locating knock. “Sorry. I-I let my curiosity get the better of me. I didn’t mean to frighten you… I-I’m going to bed. I promise not to bother you again.”

He stood for a moment in the silence before stepping away and moving the bookshelf back in place.

He debated with himself, should he try to sleep after that? What if they tried to esca- 

“No.” Freminet hissed at himself, smacking his face gently. “You’re not on a mission, they’re innocent bystanders.”

Sleep it was, if his brain was ’going under’ his mission protocols. He needed to be rested if he wanted to speak to them again… if they ever appeared to him again that is. He sighed and walked up the stairs to his bedroom, each step reminding him of the long day he was winding down from. 

Though even in the warmth of his bed he was restless, every small noise sent him reeling as his mind made up every scenario. Anxiety at being watched by someone made his attempts to sleep fail at every toss and turn. Eventually he buried his head under his covers like a little kid and fell into fitful sleep.

A soft ticking eventually woke him up, and he groaned softly, smacking his alarm clock before it had a chance to ring. He leaned up and sighed, rubbing his eyes, shaking his head, anything to get the fuzzy feeling of too little sleep out of his brain.

A moment of consideration later, since he didn’t have to report to the Hearth for a week, he headed to his hobby room. 

“Well… hm.” Freminet sighed at the slight disarray he had left everything in. The overhead light was dimmed, as to not be overwhelming while he was trying to see tiny details. With a yawn he began to organize everything back to its proper places, finally ending with a cup of caffeinated tea and a previously abandoned automaton.

He had been so excited to find his favorite set of goggles underneath a pile of spare cogs, and fired up his tig welder to continue his work on the machine in his hand. It resembled a cat, the black iron he had been given as payment for helping a child get their toy from the ocean’s depths formed its body. Its eyes were a teardrop and a star. The eyes glowed purple or gold depending on which annihilation energy it was channeling. 

After a long weld, Freminet moved his eyes away to rest them, following a shadow from the welder’s light. As his eyes adjusted, they widened.

Standing on his desk was a borrower, a different one than the one from last night. The little person was clad in red and black instead of blue and black. Plus they didn’t seem to have a tail or ears like the other one.

Suddenly Freminet remembered that he was practically hunched over his desk, probably looming over the borrower like a storybook monster. He almost threw himself back in his chair, turning his eyes back to the metal in his hands in embarrassment.

The silence stretched for an awkward moment before Freminet noticed the borrower changed their stance from one ready to bolt, to one of slight curiosity. 

“I’m repairing one of my clockwork toys.” He watched the borrower jump at the sudden conversation. “I sell them to a local toy shop as prototypes. I-I’ve always liked working with machines. Machines don’t hurt you emotionally, they don’t feel, they just follow orders.” He bit his lip to keep from letting the emotions hit him too hard from his own words.

“D-did you mean it?” The voice had a slight rasp, but sounded masculine. Then again, voice was never a smart way to determine anything, since his own voice was slightly effeminate. 

“Um…” Putting his trailing thoughts to the side, he glanced at the borrower fully, taking note of smaller details, like that tophat the borrower wore, as well as the soft gold of neuma that hung around them like an aura. “I s-suppose so? That’s really just how they’re made though. Programming isn’t my strong suit…”

The borrower stared at him, an almost incredulous look on their face. “No, I meant last night… Would you really leave us alone? You don’t seem like the type to keep us as pets. Right?”

Freminet stared blankly for a moment, trying to recall what he had said. Oh… “O-of course not!” He shook his head at the thought of trapping the two he had met so far. “Sorry- I’m… um, I meant it. I like reading fairytales and borrowers are kind of common in them… not to say you aren’t real! Just that- uh… I’m sorry if- that you have to move because of me. I’ve read how it’s usually difficult, and um, I’d feel bad if you got hurt.” 

The borrower seemed to mull over his words, and Freminet realized how much he wanted them to believe him. This was the longest he had talked to anyone outside of his missions. He was worried they would actually leave and then he would have to return to normal, as if they had been a dream.

“If you promise, on your Vision, that you will never harm me or my sister…Maybe we’ll consider staying.” Freminet swallowed as the borrower crossed his arms, completely serious. Vision Oaths were largely outdated, since most people knew how to get around the cracking ’punishment’. All it took was cutting off one’s elemental draw from the vision and the oath could be made without repercussion. Though, judging by the borrower’s expression, they didn’t know about that yet.

But Freminet didn’t do well with true lies anyways, better at spinning half-truths and embellishments. “I swear it upon my vision.” The comforting chill of Cryo wrapped around him at his oath. It was comforting, to make a promise he would be certain to keep.

“Okay.” The borrower took a deep breath, making Freminet raise an eyebrow. “I’m Lyney, my twin sister is called Lynette.”

Freminet nodded, mouthing the names to commit them to memory. He then slowly took off his goggles, straightening his hair and peering down at the borrower. Lyney. “I’m Freminet. It’s nice to meet you.”

Introductions out of the way, the two sat in silence, watching each other. The air began to grow awkward the longer the silence stretched, so much so that Freminet nearly yelped when Lyney broke it.

“So,” The borrower eyed the mechanism in Freminet’s hands. “What is it, exactly?”

Freminet smiled. “Well it’s a prototype as I said earlier. A… trial robot essentially.” He hummed, trying to think of a way to dumb it down. “Most of the small meka I make have some aspects of combat built into them, such as small scale weaponry, or in this one’s case, Arkhe compatibility.”

“Are they why you come back covered in blood?” 

Freminet froze, his eyes widening and panic gripping his heart. Oh he had not been mentally prepared for that question. “Not really…” He forced through the sudden hoarseness, ignoring how he let his emotions slip into his tone. “I don’t like to bring work home with me…”

“Mhm.” He watched as Lyney crossed his arms, expression one of contemplation. Eventually the borrower’s stance relaxed and he walked up to the mechanical cat. 

Freminet swallowed roughly, did that oath really earn the borrower’s trust that easily? He was practically close enough that if Freminet moved even slightly, he would be touching the tiny guy…man? Boy? 

Freminet frowned. “How old are you?”

The borrower turned to look up at him, an eyebrow raised at the sudden topic change. “I think in years, Lynette and I are 23.”

“Oh.” Freminet stared in shock. He was expecting maybe 20, 21 at the most. “I’m 19…”

Lyney was silent before a laugh broke the silence, the borrower practically in tears. “That’s a good one! I almost believed you!”

He could feel his face turning red. “I am, though. I wasn’t joking.”

Lyney stopped laughing, eyes widening as if he had realized something. “S-sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Freminet smiled pacifyingly. “I get that a lot during missions.”

“Your missions… are they bad?” Lyney asked, almost too quiet for him to hear.

Freminet chewed on his cheek as he mulled over his words. “Well… I think it’s nuanced. To most people, it would be considered bad, it’s certainly illegal. But,” The blonde sighed, fiddling with his machinery. “It’s for a good reason. There’s a lot of…human trafficking in Fontaine. Kidnapping, uh…people being taken from their homes and sold like objects…”

“Oh.” Lyney’s face seemed pale. “Is that- you’re killing the people that do that? Right?”

“I used to.” Freminet whispered, that was his darkest secret, the blood that stained his hands was already putrid while still moving through those monsters’ veins. “But not anymore. Father said that if I wanted change to occur I can’t get myself locked up in the Fortress of Meropide, so now I infiltrate them and break all of those that are kidnapped out, and turn in all evidence to the Marchesse Phantom.”

“I can respect that.” Lyney crossed his arms and looked up at him. “I don’t know if you remember, but we came to your house from one of your missions. It was an old human that had a bunch of girls chained to a wall behind a bookcase. Well, he had also caught Lynette, kept her in a cage as a ‘pet’.” Freminet nearly reeled back at the rage in the way the tiny man spat out the word. He remembered that mission, he had accidentally knocked over a few bookshelves in the scuffle. 

Guilt hit him as he realized his carelessness could have killed Lyney’s sister. He made a mental note to look for captured borrowers as well when on missions from now on.

“When you knocked the loud stuff over, the cage she was in was knocked into the wall, and the impact bent the metal enough that she could escape. We then found your bag and decided to get out while we had the chance.” Lyney finished. “Now that we know you’re a good person, and you’ve vowed not to harm us or keep us as pets, we’d like to be friends. I owe you my sister’s freedom after all.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Freminet shook his head. “I’m happy to have company, I’m actually normally not good with talking to other people. Just… being my friend would be enough.”

“Lyney!” A soft hiss made the two look towards the wall paneling, and they noticed Lynette peeking out of the darkness of the walls, her ears folded back as she glanced between the two boys. “What are you doing?”

“Making a new friend.” Lyney replied cheekily. 

“Mhm.” Freminet nodded. “I’m sorry about scaring you last night, it’s nice to meet you.”

Lynette stared silently before her eyes drifted to the machine in his hands. He watched as her ears moved to face forwards again, and he nearly laughed as her hand went up to them as she stared.

“It’s a small meka I’m making, I love cats.” He explained softly, watching as the borrower’s curiosity seemed to get the better of her as she stepped out of the walls completely. Lyney grinned as he pulled his sister into a tight hug. Freminet watched as they seemed to have a conversation too quiet for him to hear, and he contentedly continued to work on the clockwork cat.

“What’s its name?”

He glanced over at Lynette who had spoken up. “Um… it doesn’t have one yet.”

“You should choose one.” Lyney chuckled and moved closer to where Freminet’s hands were, the blonde almost frozen as the tiny man clambered over his arms so he could see what Freminet was doing.

“Brother, you’re going to give him a heart attack.” Lynette sighed, and Freminet nodded in agreement, making the girl smile. “See? He agrees.”

“How are you so comfortable around me?” Freminet asked softly, his brows furrowed as he fought to understand the pyro user’s thoughts. “You practically just met me, I’m still hundreds of times your size, I’m younger than you, I just… don’t understand.”

“You made an oath on your vision.” Lyney shrugged. “And you actively save people from being stolen by others. Plus we’ve lived here for years now, we’ve kind of watched you grow up.”

Lynette sighed, glancing up at him. “What my brother is trying to say is that you remind him of another human we trusted to know about us. And he has older sibling syndrome, so he-“ 

“Lynette!” Freminet glanced at Lyney and snorted at how red his face was. 

“Okay, I think I understand.” Freminet smiled. “Thank you.”

The twins exchanged a look. Lyney grinned and Lynette nodded, the two turning to look up at Freminet. With flourishing bows, tophats to the sides. “You're welcome.”

The next few hours were mostly spent in silence, Freminet working on his meka and the twins exploring his workshop openly. He kept an eye on them, especially once they were on the floor. He had made a promise, he intended to keep it.

“And…done.” Freminet grinned as he used a spark of neuma to activate the meka cat, watching as the programming he had installed booted up. It was a protection unit, originally meant to protect homes against invaders, but Freminet had altered it a little to protect people instead, specifically the twins.

“Oh it’s moving.” Freminet blinked as he realized Lynette had scaled the desk’s leg and was pulling herself onto the table. His heart stopped as he watched her feet trying to find purchase to pull her up the rest of the way. He moved a hand to hover beneath her and froze as she slipped, her eyes widening only for a wheeze to erupt from her as she landed in his hand.

“Lynette!” Freminet looked to the ground and saw Lyney standing, looking up at him in fear. “Is she alright?!”

He nodded, lowering his hand down to Lyney, only to freeze as the young man leapt into his hand, bee-lining to his twin, uncaring that he was in Freminet’s hand.

“You got the wind knocked out of you.” Lyney shook his head as he helped Lynette lean up. “Relax, hold it… now breathe.” Lynette followed Lyney’s words and Freminet watched in awe as she flopped back onto his hand, her own over her heart.

“I fell.” He blinked as she looked up at him. “You caught me.”

“Mhm.” He nodded. “Are you okay?”

The woman glanced at Lyney, a slow blink, then back at him. “Yes. Can you… lift us up?”

Freminet’s eyes widened, but he nodded. He was aware of every movement of the twins, and he was suddenly very glad for his thick gloves. His chest was tight and he slowly pulled his hand from the floor, steadying himself so he wouldn’t fall too. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he placed his hand on the table, laying his head down to see the twins better.

“Thank you.” Lyney smiled at him as he helped Lynette off of his hand. “This is why I trust you.”

Freminet blinked before nodding, not trusting his voice as tears began to well up in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Lynette asked, moving closer to his face. “I’m okay, you caught me. And more importantly, you let me go.”

“You almost got hurt, I- I was scared.” He found himself admitting. “Is everything that dangerous to you? If I hadn’t noticed, if I had bumped the table, you would have been really hurt!”

“Ah.” The twins exchanged a look. 

“That’s just the risk of living near humans.” Lyney explained softly. “Borrowers like us that choose to live in cities, we’re less likely to get…eaten or drown, or starve. But we have to move quickly around things, and avoid being seen. No matter where we are, yes things are dangerous if we’re not careful.”

“Lyney’s right. It wasn’t your fault, I shouldn’t have tried to climb that far without any climbing gear.” Lynette shook her head. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Okay.” Freminet leaned back so he could wipe at his eyes. “Just be careful alright? We’ll have to work together on stuff so I don’t scare you or hurt you by accident. And I can build some things to make getting around easier, I mean I know how to make a grapple, since it’s similar to my dive hook…” He smiled as he pointed to the meka cat standing at attention on the table.

“And this meka is your bodyguard, it’ll make a loud noise if I get too close to you when in guard mode. It’ll also attack anything that isn’t you two. Or me.” The twins turned to look at the mechanical cat, the machine turning to them as well and making a low rumbling series of clicks, imitating a purr. Freminet grinned from pride at the mechanic working as he had intended.

“For… us?” Lyney asked in confusion. “Aren’t those meka to protect the Court?”

“Well I made this one, not the Fortress. So I get to decide who it’s for.” Freminet smiled. “But to enable any commands it does need a name.”

The twins looked at each other before Lynette smiled. “What about Rosseland, Lyney?”

“A wonderful name, Lynette!” Lyney grinned, the two laughing at some inside joke Freminet wasn’t privy to.

But, “Rosseland it is then.” He smiled as he altered the activation protocols he had installed, replacing the placeholder name [-] with [Rosseland]. “Alright, Rosseland, perform a system check.”

The meka cat stood up straight and a series of clicks came from the internals of its machinery. Eventually the noises stopped and a single meow came from the voicebox.

“Alright, looks like everything is good.” Freminet grinned as the twins looked at his machine in awe. “I’m already in its system for voice activations, so I’ll have to train it for your voices.” He hummed as he glanced at Lyney. “Lyney, we both use neuma so it’s already attuned, I’ll have you go first.”

“Alright.” Lyney stepped closer to the meka cat.

“Rosseland, lay down.” Freminet watched as the meka did as told, laying down. “Okay now say, it’s name then ‘activate voice learning neuma’.”

“Okay.” Lyney nodded. “Rosseland, activate voice learning neuma.”

“Voice Learning Activated. State your name.” Lyney and Lynette flinched at the low pitched mechanical voice.

“Lyney.” The borrower replied.

“Name registered as: Lyney. Repeat phrase: My vision is {Vision Element} and my Arkhe Alignment is Neuma.”

Lyney glanced at Freminet. “Does it mean Pyro?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

Lyney turned back to Rosseland and continued the back and forth with the questions for a minute. Eventually the meka made a series of clicks, then meowed three times. 

“Alright, you’re registered.” Freminet grinned. “That worked better than I thought it would.”

“It’s my turn now, right?” Freminet nodded as Lynette approached.

“Yes, but hold on, if you apply ousia right now, it will go into sleep mode.” Freminet gestured the twins forward. “See this thing on Rosseland’s neck? It’s a power diffuser. When you press it, any Arke energy will be dissipated. Make sure if you activate guard mode that you don’t apply the opposite Arkhe energy without pressing this button.”

The twins nodded, Lyney reaching up and pressing the button, the gold glow in Rosseland’s eyes fading back to black.

After a few minutes of getting Lynette through the voice learning questions it was done. The twins were then told a few more commands Rosseland could perform, such as retrieval, and time-telling. After they were clear on everything, Freminet felt his face burn as his stomach growled.

“Hungry?” Lyney teased, yelping as Lynette smacked his arm.

“I am actually,” Freminet ignored them. “I have some ingredients for Fish and Chips. If you want to meet me in the kitchen, I’ll be happy to get some for you two as well.” Freminet offered, slowly cleaning up his workspace. The twins nodded.

“Sounds good, we’ll be there when you have it ready.” Lyney smiled. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” Lynette smiled, the twins walking back towards the walls, disappearing into the woodwork. 

Freminet took a deep breath and materialized his dive helmet, placing it over his head and screaming out his anxieties from all of the conversation.

[jhrutvija]

People often ask me what it's like being me. They think I have some sort of superpowers and maybe I do but the weight of responsibility that comes with it is so heavy it weighs me down to the point I can feel my neck crushing. I will let u in on my secret I forget things little things ,sad things, happy things, major shit trauma things, I don't know its a curse or a blessing some say it's blessing because even after going through the most gut wrenching ,heart numbing situations I don't remember them at all ,just little bits and parts of it but I like to think it's curse because I want to remember exaxtly how I felt over who made me feel that way ,I want to keep record of every emotion I go through because trust me when u feel the most powerful sensation of lost and hurt its a punch in the gut when u only remember the feeling of hurt not the words that were responsible. So curse it is and this curse has been with me since I was child every time I felt inadequate or stupid or if some kid bullied me and I cried for hours I only remember how I felt in that moment not what the kid said or what his words were which made me cry or who made me feel inadequate or stupid. I don't remember those words only the sensations I'd gone through when it happened and then people assume I wasn't hurt with their words and when they ask which one the things they said did the hurting that is when I can't name them because I lost the memory or don't have any recollection of those exact specific words which hurt me so much I wanted to self harm for forgetting it.

Everyday is a struggle People think I am lazy for not doing my daily chores or if I forget tiny little details which a normal person wouldn't, now tell me how do I explain to u that it's all up in my brain chemistry that of I get signals over there to remember I'll remember every shit u tell me but if I get signals over to skip some details then I won't, it's not in my hand ,if it was I would live a  normal  life like every single one of u where there isn't a constant voice in my head  telling me how it's the world that hates me and I should just die and free the world of my stupidity 

So you people need to know it's something beyond my capacity to explain how it's like being me in short terms you'd die or kill yourself if you were me for just an hour but here I am still very much alive and very much breathing but barely but everything I am doing is happening on its own and I am trying to cope up with it but then if one day my brain shuts off and it decides it's all too much for me to handle and I give up ,don't come over my grave and whisper how it all happened when there were signs right in front of you but you just ignored them because I was too much to handle or it was a waste of time and energy trying ti explain every shit to me or how it's hard to constantly reassure how me being different is something you'd change rather than accept and love me for me the way I was born, don't go up to my parents on my funeral  asking what was the reason, when those reasons were screaming at you asking for help and you just neglected them right in front of my face,  don't go over to my brother asking if there is something you can do because you didn't do shit when it was needed the most, you were just too busy in your own stuff that u looked over my misery and probably laughed behind my back don't go over my grave where  my lifeless body lies and say I wish you were still here ,when in reality I was right there with you trying to understand your troubles,  helping you and so much in love with you that you ignored that I was struggling too I wanted  to give up too but you were so engrossed in your own self that u didn't even care to ask me that if I needed some help because I did I needed so much help but I was too ashamed to ask too guilty because I loved u so much and didn't feel like adding more of my dumb shit over the real ones of yours but guess whose was the real and deep one that it made u attend my funeral not over after living a long happy life like you'd promised me once but in the young youthful time where people discover themselves whilst living their life at, that I took my life just because there wasn't anyone here to listen how loud it had gotten in my head that I'd gone deaf and still could hear it over and over , the only way I'd find some peace was in my grave where it was cold I'd always loved cold It's the  heat i hated and finally I'd had something I'd loved to accompany me in that box where I'll lie down in peace ,so I guess in the end it all turned out good, you got rid of the girl who loved you like it was breathing who was too much for you to handle .I'd finally get to sleep in a sumber with no noise screeching in my head instead feeling chill cold and peace…………………

                ~ hrutvija

                                                                                                                   ~hrutvija