#shout out to the single oldest request i never answered

[princessozera]

Therapist MC

Anon request:  What if MC was a professional therapist and tried to get the brothers to open up and get their problems off their chest, because let's be honest, they all need therapy from bottling up their feelings for so long.

A/N: Tiny bit of angst

GN!MC (they/them, 3rd ppov)

Word count: 2.7k

"It's not really manipulating if it's for their own good... right?"

It's not really manipulation at all, but MC feels guilty none the less. Everyone in the house of lamentation needed to talk things out, and while a whole family session would probably help IN THEORY, MC is both physically and mentally not strong enough to handle that kind of showdown. Quite frankly, no human is.

There's an argument to be made that some of their issues tie in with their sin and that makes it impossible to break out of bad habits, but that's not MC's goal. They aren't trying to fix everything, or change them, they only want to help them heal a little.

None of them would ever own up to needing therapy anyways, so MC has to divide and conquer. It's a good thing the brothers are creatures of habit and routine. And even better that MC's always had a deep interest in pavlovian conditioning.

Lucifer

Being the eldest and strongest of 7- not to mention the right hand man to a prince- undeniably comes with heavy burdens that few can relate to.

Being the avatar of pride did nothing to help this, Lucifer refused to rely on others even with his emotions and burdens. After all, the last time he'd been so open and vulnerable, he'd been forced into servitude with a pact he still yields to in this day and age.

As if the gray hairs weren't worrisome enough, MC doesn't miss the contemplative staring into the distance, the long periods of isolation and exhaustion working endlessly day in and out- Lucifer almost single handedly carries the RAD student body and there's little to show for his work. MC tries to sit with him when they can, cracking little jokes, learning Lucifer's favorite snacks to bring him on particularly busy days, hoping their presence at least can provide some comfort.

MC tries to take some of the load off his shoulders, offering to summarize the less important paperwork and help with filing, trying to get him to relax enough so he can feel comfortable enough to ramble about his stress- anything to get it off his chest. Lucifer clearly see's through their efforts and insists that being in their company is help enough.

MC isn't discouraged, they knew he wouldn't give in so easily, so instead they learn to realize when he had a smaller workload or was starting to reach a peak level of stress, and prepared a routine of demonus and music to get him to trust them.

MC wants to be able to have intimate moments like this with him in the future, without it necessarily starting a dump session or always bringing up bad feelings- that would push Lucifer away more than anything else. So they pick very specific drinks and even buy a brand new record for them to listen to together during these little talks. They also make a point to always mark a turning point in the conversation with a few key phrases ("You seem to be-", "Have you been getting enough rest-").

It takes a few repeated nights like this before Lucifer can really start to open up and realize that these moments will always be confidential, and most importantly he will be safe with MC. They fall into a pattern- a lull in the work, an offering of wine. Dim lights, and background music, MC carries the conversation until Lucifer is relaxed enough to join in. A few lines from him, a few questions from MC, and soon Lucifer is leaning on their shoulder, or has them placed against his chest as he talks to his hearts content.

It's not always sad or dark topics, sometimes Lucifer just wants to hear MC's opinions on things, or pose silly questions that get him weird looks from others. Sometimes those questions hide darker meanings, so MC makes sure to guide the conversation carefully and keep an eye on the amount of demonus Lucifer drinks during a session.

Lucifer can't handle personal talks like this as well as MC, but that's to be expected, they are trained after all. So instead he shows he cares with acts of service; taking over chores, inviting them to lunch, offering to help with any problems they might encounter.

MC makes it clear that Lucifer can come speak to them whenever and continues to stop by when they can spare the time, for who will care for the care giver?

Mammon

No matter how close of friends Mammon and MC become, there are some things he just refuses to talk about, and they're often the things that need to be said the most.

He's been the distraction, the emotional punching bag of the family and it didn't take a trained therapist to see it or worry about the damage it was doing to him, demon psychology be damned.

MC tries to broach the topic with him one day, and quickly learns that he's a deflector. Mammon changed the topic immediately, and every time after that when MC tries to gently push him to talk about it. But Mammon hadn't reacted hostile to the questioning, so MC decided to let him come talk to them on his own terms.

It happened after a night of drinking- liquid courage and all that.

While he'd never put a label to it or talk to his brothers about it, Mammon is the most open about talking with MC about these things. He'll almost always be the one to come to MC first, kicking it off with a quick "Hey, could we talk later?" instead of his usual "Are you busy right now?" or "Where are you, we're going out!".

Mammon likes to pretend it isn't happening, like it's any old thing. He'll ask to have a movie playing in the background that neither is watching. He'll play with MC's hand, their hair, poking fun at their clothes between serious statements. But the one thing he always refuses to let MC see him crying. So instead MC offers an alternative- they will turn around and he'll cry into their back, and oddly enough it works for them. He's comforted by them and their presence, without the shame he feels at being vulnerable like this when he knows his brothers would never let him hear the end of it.

Mammon also makes it a point to be around if MC ever needs to talk. He wants them to know they can trust him too, so if he ever thinks they're holding something back from him, he'll try to take them out on a fun day to see if they'll be willing to talk afterwards.

Levi

MC's methods with Levi are indirect. Considering that asking him regular questions about love and "normie stuff" send him into a tangent of grumbles, it's not hard to imagine Levi shutting down almost immediately if MC were to try to talk about his self depreciation in any sort of seriousness.

So instead, MC speaks to him in the language of video games and manga.

He'll be in the middle of an intense gaming session when an innocent question is posed. What does he like about his favorite characters? Why are they so amazing? MC insists it's okay if he's mentioned it a hundred times before, they want to hear it again. And Levi's great at multitasking, so he'll go into his passionate speeches about the great Henry and the undefeatable Ruri chan. He feels silly at the bit of pride he feels when MC tells him that he has some of the same characteristics he praises in these characters, but Levi thinks they must be bluffing, so he tries to change the topic around on them.

MC also asks about Levi's least favorite characters, and when he starts to bash and berate them can't help but pose another "random thought"; did Levi see a bit of himself reflected in them? Is that why he hated them?

If Levi stops playing his games entirely to stare at MC, they reassure him that it was simply a hypothetical; you don't really need a reason to hate a character, so they meant no harm in that question. MC points out characters they hated for that reason- seeing the worst of themselves reflected- to try to ease Levi's concern, and so he'll resume gaming and he's finally more open to a conversation.

It's all video game and manga characters, comparing each other and their traits, good and bad to keep it even.

Satan

"If any of my co workers saw me do this, I'd get fined and my license suspended immediately."

Satan was a tricky case, he was more analytical of the media he consumed, so MC couldn't pull the same trick as with Levi. There was also the possibility that if he figured out what MC was trying to do, he'd start to ignore them altogether, or in an extreme case, threaten them. So what did MC decide to do?

Get him a drink.

Fine, 3 or 4 may be more than "a drink" but the gentleman brother had few other vices MC could use to their benefit. Similar to Lucifer, MC picks a very specific drink to have Satan associate with trust and opening up, and works very had to set the atmosphere just right for Satan to want to talk about his doubts and fears.

It was a balancing act at first, the first time was too many drinks and Satan had been inconsolable about the cat he hadn't seen in a week. The next time, he hadn't been relaxed enough and when the topic switched to Lucifer and his birth, he'd became so enraged that he smashed the bottle they had been drinking from. He hadn't flown into a blind rage, but it had been enough for MC to decide to leave that topic after a longer build up of trust.

These talks with Satan often ended up with Satan laying across MC's lap as he let the weight of the devildom crush the words out of him- disjointed, ugly, messy, and more than a touch acidic. Once MC had posed a question or topic, Satan ran with it until the exhaustion from thousands of years of pent up anger started to catch up to him.

MC never let him fall asleep like this though, always bringing conversation back to lighter topics before he drifted off to sleep. They'd run a hand through his hair and assure him that he was not just a by product of Lucifer, or an accumulation of his sin. Satan was his own demon, and he wasn't defined by the actions of those before him.

Satan often didn't remember the contents of the conversation the next day, only feeling a weight off his shoulders and his steps a little lighter. He always made sure to take MC out to lunch for 'inconveniencing' them the night before, but thanks them for keeping him company when he was less than amicable. Satan goes out of his way to set up similar sessions for MC, thinking that destressing with conversation must be one of the ways they show affection, so he wanted to show he was paying attention to their 'love language'.

Asmo

Working with Asmo is a trade off and a battle of wits.

He's not stupid, the first time MC tried to push him into sensitive territory during one of their spa nights, he called them out on it. Asmo's also smart enough to know that MC wouldn't just drop it because he asked, so he agrees to their little therapy sessions, on his terms.

The sessions were to be held at most, once every 2 weeks, and MC had to let Asmo pamper them while they talked. Skin care, nails, hair, full 9 yards or it was a no go.

While Asmo never turned down a chance to spend quality time with MC, showing off his multiple talents, there was another purpose to the self care routine. Asmo planned to carefully manipulate the version of himself he shows MC, the perfect role of vulnerable and trusting, to make them believe they were leading the therapy sessions without actually revealing too much about himself. Can't have them seeing that ugly side of him after all.

But Asmo's met his match in MC. They came prepared with their own little turn around, letting Asmo believe he was leading them by the nose but every so often MC would ask him for advice and opinions, theoretically, "asking for a friend."

MC was careful in wording the situation for each "friend" to get a feel for Asmodeus true nature, and if they suspected that he was catching on, they'd make the next question a little more personal so he'd believe the "friend" he was asking about was really themselves.

It's a good thing that DDDs came password protected because trying to stay 3 steps ahead of Asmo's lead took some careful planning and there was an entire subfolder dedicated to MC's 'game plan'.

Beel

MC comes to Beel directly, explaining their line of work and if he'd ever want to speak with them about how he's doing and about his everyday life. Beel's a little confused, he doesn't think anything was wrong per se, but he was always down to spend more time alone with MC so he would entertain these little talks they suggested.

Beel was surprised when MC invited him to the gym late one night for their first "therapy visit". The gym was abandoned, but he'd missed his workout earlier in the day so it all worked out.

While MC stretched and did light workouts near him, Beel went about his usual routine. He didn't understand how this would be considered a therapy, but working out did always make him feel better, so he answered any random question that MC asked him.

MC asked about his brothers, why he loved the food he loved. Silly little things, but he indulged them.

What had he felt about Belphie being gone? Was he still mad at Lucifer for lying?

These questions were heavier than the weights he was bench pressing, and for a second, Beel lost his grip and was pinned under the bar for the first time in his life. He caught his breath quickly, and managed to lift the weights, unsure if MC had caught his slip. He holds them up for a moment before continuing his set as usual, mulling over their questions.

Working out helps him think through his feelings and gives him an excuse to pause before answer MC's questions, but he never tried to hide anything from them.

MC leads the first few months of workout therapy, working through the problems they knew most about, and after that Beel took the lead, inviting them out to the gym late at night when he needed to talk, if MC was down for it of course.

Belphie

Another deflector. Conversations that could venture into sensitive topics weren't rare with Belphegor, far from it in fact. So by now MC's noticed his usual patterns. His brothers, his memories, pillows, astronomy. Belphegor will talk about anything that isn't actually about himself.

MC takes a similar approach as to the one with Leviathan, pulling Belphie into conversations with astrology and constellations. MC tells him stories associated with constellations, some ringing a little too familiar to moments from Belphie's life, but he didn't know about human mythology so he couldn't call them out on it.

Belphegor has some inkling of what MC is trying to do, but he's seen the good it's done for Beel so tries to humor the idea for a bit. He starts off in control, a bit distant and cold in his critique of the myths MC told him, but as the night drags on, anger colors his tone.

Betrayal, humiliation, the bitter taste of realizing you were wrong.

Belphegor doesn't know when he switched from 3rd person to first, but he's shocked to hear his own voice fume over the way his brothers treated him when he first came back, how quickly everyone had tossed months of secrets away as if there weren't at least 4 treasons mixed in there.

Hypocrisy? Or just realizing there's a band aid on a nuclear reactor, well on it's way to imploding?

[vquacki]

It's My Fatherly Duties!

It's My Fatherly Duties!

Short DAD Scenarios 

Characters: BONTEN - Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, Sanzu Haruchiyo

~ Inui Seishu, Kokonoi Hajime, Izana Kurokawa, 

~ Souya Kawata (Angry), Nahoya Kawata (Smiley)

Warning ⚠︎︎ : Mature content, cussing, MINORS DNI

Note : requested, I added some characters. Hope ya don’t mind! These are pretty short, just little things I put together. Word barf kinda..? Anyways- I hope you enjoy :))

R I N D O U 

His lashes fluttered open when he heard a loud crash coming from the hallway, along with a string of cuss words sounding like his daughter's voice. 

“What the hell was that?” You groaned, not a single word was uttered from your husband when he sprung out of bed, bolting to the bedroom down the corridor.

“Tohru?!” Rindou yelled, flinging open the door. Revealing your teenage daughter fully dressed, half way through her second story window. A facade of pillows under her blanket seeminging meant to be her ‘sleeping body’.

“Oh dad, I-”

“What the hell are you doing” The man was fuming by the ears, pajamas ruffled when he jolted out of his slumber. 

“Is Tohru okay?” You peeked from behind the broad shouldered man. 

“I was just going to get fresh air!” Your daughter lied, making up a somewhat excuse to appease her angered father. 

“Hey Tohru! Hurry up and get down here!” You heard a boy's voice call out, looking over at Rindou’s face to see the man's darkened expression.

“Who the fuck is down there? Is that a boy?!” He growled, stomping his feet over to the glass. Pushing past his daughter to take a look. 

“Oh shit- her dads here. Let’s book it!” The kids whispered, but loud enough for Rindou to make out, hastily running down the dark street. 

“You little shits! Don't you dare come back here!” Rindou growled, slamming the window shut in the process. 

“What! Dad!” Tohru whined, 

“You're so grounded young lady!” Rindou shouted, not caring for the sleeping neighbors beside his shared condo at three in the morning. 

“Rin, she was just having some fun!” You defended, you were also like her when you were her age, trouble makers run in your blood. Actually Rindou couldn't even talk- he was running roppongi at her age.  

“No! She's just too young to be hanging out with boys!” Rindou’s brows joined together as he withered in front of you. 

“But we dated when we were her age-” You deadpanned at him, 

“Grounded! My final answer!” 

R A N  

Ran was coming home from a late night bonten meeting, mouth agape when he saw his daughter’s feet dangling out from her window. 

Fearing the worst he sprinted to the ground below his child, hands outstretched to catch her if she were to misstep. 

“Mitsuri!” His voice boomed,

“Eh? Dad?!” His daughter stuttered, slowly slid out the window, climbing down like she had done this many times prior to this awkward occurrence. 

Toes easily touching the grass with ease, not a scratch upon the females porcelain skin. 

“Ran?” You yawned, cracking the door ajar. It was late, you waking up to your husband's screams outside your house. 

“Mitsuri, what are you doing climbing out your window like a maniac?!” Ran scowled, hands running through his messed up hair. Sweat dripping down his temple from the not so pleasant adrenaline rush. 

“I was just gonna hang out with some friends..” your daughter answered, fingers gripping the edge of her shirt, scarily waiting for her dad’s reaction. 

“At this time of night? .. out your window?”

“Ye-”

“Phone privileges. Give me it.” Ran demanded, palm stretched out. 

“But-” no question she was a tad bit spoiled by her father. You being the bad cop, while your husband played the good cop for his beloved daughter. 

“If you want to go anywhere all you got to do is ask!” Ran plucked the phone from his daughter's hand, a wave of relief washing over him. Secretly thanking whatever being watching over him that it wasn't some sort of gang related subject. 

“This is what you get for spoiling her!” You laughed from the sidelines, hand clutching your stomach.

“This is your fault too ya know!” Ran argued. 

“I’m the one who tries to discipline her! But someone always lets it go!” You emphasized the special somebody. 

“Whatever” Ran sighed, This was a lesson for the usual carefree man, a special lesson he wouldn't forget in the many years to come with his unborn future children. 

S A N Z U 

It was Sanzu’s best day of his life when his daughters were born, the two only being about one year apart. They were spoiled to the core, anything they wanted their money liberl father blessed them with. He thought they were the sweetest things ever, them both being a daddy's girl after all. 

He never would have expected to see both of his daughters outside his humble abode, standing beside two boys, most likely a double date. 

He stared in shock, hands pressed firmly against the glass, teeth gritting. 

“Huh? I tucked them into bed an hour ago” You rubbed your eyes, riding yourself of the sleepiness threatening to drown you. The pink haired only tutted his teeth, swifty twisting the door knob to confront the four children outside. 

“Oh you better run” your oldest daughter whispered, gesturing for the boys to make haste from her deadly father. 

“You better not come back here, unless you want trouble you fuckers!” Sanzu yelled, red in the eyes from anger. Not bothering to chase after the two scoundrels. 

“Dad, mom! What are you guys doing awake?” Your youngest asked, sheer panic in her eyes, watching her insane fathers unpleasant smile. 

“I swear you two will be the death of me” Sanzu uttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. A irked gleen in his orbs as he stared them down. 

“They were just friends dad, stop overreacting” the older daughter said, 

“I- You little shi-” He bit his lip to suppress his anger fueled words, knowing well it would definitely hurt his precious children's feelings. Having regretted it later if he were to say those sinful words. 

“Now now Sanzu, let's head to bed” You wrapped your arms around your lover, dragging him inside the house. 

“You can sort out their punishment tomorrow, after a good night's sleep” , coating him with reassuring words. That day he learned how misjudged he was of his children, even so he still loved them with all his heart.

I Z A N A 

Izana had his feet kicked up, relaxing in his office while he watched the moon. He had a clear view, the street lamps positioned next to the sidewalk, the side of his beautiful house facing his office window. He was enjoying his free time, mind taking over his body while he thought about his life choices. He was in ease until he saw his son's window light up, a long string of rope being tossed out the opening. 

Sitting up from his chair, he rushed over to his clear casement. Throwing his window open, a boy and girl standing beneath his son's window. The two holding the rope still as your child tried to slid down. 

“My my Yuki, where are you off to?” Izana laughed, nerves finally relaxing when he figured out what was going on. Calmly settling into the frame, head leaning on his chin. It wasn't like he had the right to be upset, he did much worse when he was his son's age. Robbing, fighting, killing. You name it, Izana’s done it. 

Sneaking out was nothing compared to what he did, but he wasn't gonna just let his son go. He was more wise now, he knew for a fact he didn't want his son to end up anything like him. Sure, he wanted the boy to have fun, but in a normal kid way. 

“Dad! Um- I”

“You better get your arse back up that window before I drag you around with that rope” Izana smiled, Totally different from the sentence he was portraying. Not forgetting his manners, giving a nonchalant wave to the other two kids. 

“Zana? Who are you talking to?” You asked, placing a cup of tea you had prepared for Izana on his desk. 

“Oh no one doll” Izana answered, closing the window before walking over to you. 

“Let's go to bed, yeah?” He proposed, trailing his hands around your shoulders, guiding you to the door.

“But the tea I made”

“Im tired~” 

Overall the male wouldn't want to talk further about the situation, nor would he discuss it with you. Trivial matters held no place between you both, as long as the child did not dare do it again. 

I N U I 

Inui wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead, the AC wasnt working at the motor shop. Him, draken and yourself were sweating bullets, the hot material around you not helping. You had decided to help the pair around the shop, cleaning what you could. Or helping with cashing every customer out, it would've been an easy task if it wasn't blazing hot. 

Leaving your daughter home alone, obviously thinking she’d stay and do her teenage things. You couldn't be more mistaken, astounded as you watched her fiddle around with a boy across the street at the ice cream parlor. 

“Y/N please don't tell me that Kagura..” Inui’s jaw dropped, the wrench that was once in his clasp dropping to the ground. Startling the concentrating Draken that was crouched over a motorbike. 

“What's wrong Inui? Y/N” Draken twisted his body around, raising a brow when you two just started muttering to each other like two creeps. 

“Is that... a boy” Inui held his chin between his fingers, squinting to get a better view of his kid. 

“You trying to catch flies with your mouth Inui? Close your yap” You whispered, 

“Y/N! She's too young, I feel like I just held her in my arms not too long ago. She can't get married just yet!” Inui argued, he would've been on the verge of tears if he didn't have a reputation to uphold. 

“What? The fuck are you on Inui? She's probably just with a friend!” You patted his back, reassuring the man. 

“Boys and girls can be friends ya’know” you added.

Cueing the two children across the road from you, feeding scoops of ice cream to each other.

“I don't think friends do that..” Inui looked over at you, eyes widening when you swung the motor shop’s door open. Hands coming around your mouth to amplify your words,

“Kagura, is that your boyfriend?” 

“WHAT?” Inui almost fainted, the ledge behind him holding his wobbly frame up right. 

“I didn't know you guys would be here!” Your daughter jogged across the street, leaving the boy sitting by himself. 

“And no! Just a friend” She answered your embarrassing, blushing as she stared down at the ground.,

“I sense some lies” you wiggled playfully at the flustered girl. 

“What! Anyways, Sorry I left the house without telling you” Kagura apologized, 

“Just don't do it again, without my permission..” Inui stated, 

“Especially not with a boy.”

K O K O N O I

Bribing people is his forte, and if they did not obliged? Threatening always did the trick. 

And that's exactly what he did when he saw his descendant out with a male. All was dandy until the boy came running back, babbling about how his girl was the so called ‘love of his life’.

“Hey brat, you got a death wish?” Kokonoi asked, leaning against the door frame. 

“Koko go easy on him, he’s just a kid” You nudged the man, a mischievous grin plastered on the males face. 

“And I kinda think it's cute” You said, a small smile erupting from your daughter that was not so far behind her parents. 

“I approve, kid! I like your romantic drive!” You clapped, 

“Y/N!” Kokonoi pouted, 

“You better not try to bribe him with money again” You threatened, waving a finger at the whiny man. 

“Yeah! I like him too, dad!” Your daughter agreed. 

“You're like twelve, go play chess or something” Kokonoi barked, crossing his arms in disapproval. 

“Dad, I'm sixteen!” 

“That's what I said” 

S O U Y A 

He almost had a panic attack at the sight, having to shield the man from the scene playing out. Your twin daughter saying their goodbyes to their dates, followed by a kiss. You removed your hand when the boys were no longer in view, riding off in their motorcycles. 

“Shira, Nihra” You held Souya up by the shoulder, the light headed male limping towards the worried kids.

“What's wrong with dad?” Nihra questioned, eyeing her ghostly pale father. 

“He's out of it” You giggled, 

“I'm not crazy am i?” He stood tall, letting go of the arm you had draped around him. 

“There was boys-” His voice cracked. 

“You saw that dad?” Shira sweat dropped, watching as her fathers should leave his body. 

“Next time ask before you go out” You smiled, you weren't too strict on the two. They were Souya’s children, earning most of their adorable traits from him. Even his fighting skills. 

“This better not happen again, i'm trusting you” Souya grumbled.

“Sorry pops” The two girls remorsefully sollied the man, both hooking onto one of Souya’s arms as they helped his shell into the house. 

N A H O Y A 

Nahoya was beyond pissed, infamous smile widening. Taking fast steps towards your daughter and her significant other. 

“Look boy, I don't know who you are. But my daughters not up for grabs” Nahoya grinned, cracking his fingers. 

“O-okay sir” the boy was jittering, body trembling from the males intense arua. 

“If I catch ya here again” he used his finger to slash his neck, motioning to the death that would happily greet the boy if they were to ever meet again.

“Yer dead meat kiddo”  Nahoya laughed, watching as the boy ran for his life. 

“Dad, that was really extra!” Your daughter sneered, a pout on her lips. 

“Shut up!, you're grounded rat!” Nahoya shouted. 

“Yeah Nahoya, there was no need to threaten the poor kid. He looked like he was gonna piss himself.” 

“Exactly the effect i wanted”

End Note : as I said this was a word barf T-T, so it’s quite short.

Reblogs & Notes are always appreciated! Take care! ♡︎♡︎

[animeomegas]

Omega!Bakugou headcanons

Anon: Pssssss imma need some more omega Bakugou like now no it make him jealous too because why not

AND

Anon: hi! could you do some omega!bakugou x male alpha!reader? nsfw and sfw pls <3

nesting too pls!! idk why but I love the idea of nesting sjdjsnd, pregnant bakugou fluff would be lovely too <3

AND

Anon: Hi I was wonder if you could do omega Bakugou sfw and nsfw please 🥺

(Hey, everyone!! Bakugou is very popular in my inbox! Okay, let’s write some omega!Bakugou headcanons <3 I have another request for pregnant!Bakugou, so I’ll add that part of the middle request to another post 😊 Also, I only write for a gender neutral reader. I hope you all enjoy~)

Warnings: N-sfw under a cut, suggestive behaviour multiple times not under the cut.

Nesting:

Bakugou is not an omega who is big on nesting. He does nest and he’s very proud of his nest, but he doesn’t feel the urge to nest super often.

He doesn’t keep a permanent, all year-round nest, he’s kind of a clean freak so having to constantly clean all the blankets in his nest would drive his nuts.

He does nest during his heat and late term pregnancy, and also after periods of extreme stress, but not often outside of these times.

But if he knows his alpha likes his nests, he might build them for his alpha when they’re stressed, although he’ll claim he just felt like making it and it shouldn’t go to waste.

It’s not a very convincing lie.

His nest is not in a very popular style, mainly because Bakugou overheats so easily.

It’s a simple double mattress on a very low frame, with a couple of pillows and sheet like blankets that he normally uses as a base rather than a covering.

He has a black and red colour scheme that he thinks is the coolest thing ever, and he definitely has an All Might pillow hidden somewhere at the back that he threatens his alpha to keep a secret, it’s very cute.

He likes his nest to be in an easily defendable position, whether that be inside a large cupboard or wardrobe, or a small room with one door and a small window.

Bakugou also keeps a mini fridge by his nest, as a lot of omegas do, to store water and food, but what he has that a lot of omegas don’t, is a mini freezer too.

He keeps ice packs and ice lollies in there to help when he’s in heat because his temperature tends to get way too high.

Bakugou doesn’t like being vulnerable, so his nest is a sensitive topic for him.

It takes him quite a while to let his alpha into his nest, but he’s quicker to let them chill outside of it, holding his hand and keeping him company. He would probably let them outside his nest after courting for a year and knowing them for at least two years. When he lets them inside depends on a lot of factors, including how well they deal with him from the outside of his nest. It could be anywhere from three months to another year.

Pups:

Bakugou has always wanted some pups, but in a removed and distant kind of way. After all, becoming the No. 1 hero was far more important than any of that ‘family’ nonsense.

He only really considers pups when he’s in a very committed relationship and at a comfortable place in his career. He’s not prepared to take time off at a vulnerable career moment, after all.

Bakugou wants two children, because, while he would never admit it, he always wished he had a sibling when he was a kid, so he wants to give that to his children.

But he’s very conflicted about it.

Firstly, two pregnancy leaves would be a huge blow to his career. Prime hero years and prime ‘having children years’ are the same years, so in a way, he has to decide how to balance these two priorities. He isn’t sure he wants to risk his career with that much leave so close together (heroes can’t be in the field while pregnant at all, so it would be a huge sacrifice.)

Secondly, he’s nervous about how useless he would likely feel while pregnant. He’s a workaholic and being confined to his house and losing control over his quirk would drive him nuts.

So, he doesn’t really know what to do. He doesn’t share any of his concerns with his alpha, but he does take their wishes into account too. If his alpha really wants two children, Bakugou does keep that in mind. But he’s not a push over. If he decides that two maternity leaves are too many, then it’s too many. It’s his body and he won’t let anyone tell him otherwise.

So, with all this in mind, Bakugou is fucking thrilled when he finds out he’s having twins.

Two pups for the price of one pregnancy leave?? Sign him the hell up!

Bakugou has twin boys, both alphas, and Bakugou just cannot believe his luck that all his problems just fixed themselves.

“But I don’t want to go!” came a defiant voice from the back seat of the car. Both you and Bakugou sighed, not keen on restarting the disagreement that had plagued the household for the entire morning. It had taken twice as long as normal this morning to get the twins dressed and in the car because of this very argument.

You could see Bakugou about to open his mouth to tell him that they had to, but you held up a hand to stop him.

“Why don’t you want to go, sweetheart?” you cooed at your oldest son.

“I don’t want you and daddy to leave…” whimpered your youngest son, answering in his brother’s stead.

Bakugou winced and reached a hand into the back and squeezed each of his son’s hands in turn.

“I know.” He said simply. You could feel his guilt, even though you both knew it was the best for all of you that the twins get used to nursery so that both you and Bakugou could go back to focusing on your careers. They would be fine, you tried to convince yourself. Millions of kids do this every year and it works out fine.

The nursery came into view, and you refocused your attention onto finding a parking space in the little car park on the side of the building. You could hear your sons shifting anxiously in the back and it pulled at your heart strings. You pulled into an empty space and turned off the engine. You and Bakugou shared a single look before moving to get your children out of the car with practiced ease.

“No,” your eldest son shouted. “I’m not going to go. I’m staying here!”

You had tried to take him out of the car seat, but he had refused to cooperate. You didn’t want to pull him out in case you hurt him. Bakugou came to stand behind you, your youngest son clutching his neck desperately.

“Let me talk to him,” he spoke softly, handing the younger twin over into your arms.

“Hey,” Bakugou said softly, leaning down to peer inside the car where his eldest son stubbornly sat with his arms crossed. “It’s okay to be scared to go to nursery, you know.”

Your oldest son visibly flinched and avoided looking at Bakugou in the eyes.

“I’m not scared, daddy. I just don’t want to.”

“Uh huh,” Bakugou said, eyebrow raised.

“I’m not!” Your son exploded. When he realised that he’d just shouted at his father, the colour drained from his face and his bottom lip started to quiver. Bakugou wordlessly held out his arms and his eldest son accepted the embrace just in time to burst into heavy tears on Bakugou’s shoulder.

“It’s alright,” Bakugou hushed. “I’m not angry at you.”

In your arms, your youngest son was watching his brother cry and letting out little whimpers into your neck. You rubbed his back soothingly and whispered that everything was going to okay.

Out of the corner of your eye, you realised another parent was staring judgementally at your family. Bakugou clearly also noticed because he bared his teeth as a warning and the parent quickly moved on. You scoffed at the idiot who thought it was a good idea to antagonise an omega who was looking after a distraught pup, let alone when said omega was a top ten hero.

“W-What if they don’t l-like me?” your eldest whimpered out.

“Here,” Bakugou wiped some of the tears away with his thumb. “How about this, you tell me if anyone is mean to you and I’ll sort it out, how does that sound?”

“But…” your son hesitated. “But what will you do?”

Bakugou grinned.

“I’ll make their parents regret doing such a shitty job at parenting.”

You gasped, halfway between scandalised and amused.

“Katsuki!” you reprimanded and smacked his lightly on the shoulder.

It did seem to cheer up your sons, though, who were now giggling at your antics.

“Daddy said a bad word,” your youngest twin giggled to you.

“He did,” you pressed your lips together. “And it was very naughty of him.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes and instead placed the pup in his arms on the floor, taking him by the hand. You did the same and slowly, you both made your way toward the school gate. The mood dropped, but neither of your children tried to resist.

You could see a teacher standing at the gate to escort the new students and you made your way over.

“Remember,” Bakugou said before you reached the gate, stopping you all for a moment. “We’ll be back in this many hours,” he held up three fingers. “Can you guys tell me how many this is?”

“One… two… three…” they both said together.

“That’s right! See? You guys are going to be the smartest ones in there,” Bakugou boasted, ruffling their hair.

“Careful,” you teased. “They’ll turn into you.”

“Are you saying I’m always the smartest person in the room?” Bakugou grinned back.

“No, I’m saying you always think you’re the smartest person in the room.”

“Oi!” he growled, knocking his shoulder with yours. The pups giggled again, seeming to be in higher spirits. You escorted them to the gate at the front of the playground and let the teacher introduce herself.

And with one final goodbye, your pups were off into the nursery and out of sight.

You and Bakugou walked to the car in silence, digesting what had happened and processing that your little ones were now old enough for nursery. You both slipped back into the car and began the drive home.

It was weird to think that your children were neither with you, nor at home waiting for you, but that kind of existential deep dive could wait until later.

Bakugou’s hand settled just a little bit too high on your thigh. For the moment, it was time to appreciate the novelty of an empty house.

 Jealously:

I don’t think anyone would be very surprised to find out that Bakugou can get quite jealous on occasion.

In the early days of your relationship, he’s very nervous that his alpha is going to find a ‘better’ omega, an omega who is more traditional, and leave him for them. It takes a lot of bravery for him to leave himself vulnerable to being abandoned, and occasionally the insecurities seep through.

He hates the whiny, simpering omegas that plaster themselves onto the nearest alpha, and it makes him furious to see anyone doing that to you.

He has no subtlety, no brooding angst, he just threatens the other omega(s) away to their face, and then drags you somewhere private to cover you in his scent.

Later in the relationship, things change. He’s extremely confident that his alpha is his. Why would they ever leave him? He’s the best fucking omega ever!

Instead, he gets jealous if he isn’t getting enough attention because you’re spending too much time with someone else.

He doesn’t do this in a possessive way, it’s just that he doesn’t get a whole lot of free time and when his alpha spends that free time with someone else? Another omega? He’s pissed.

He gets surly and passive aggressive about it, and it’s extremely obvious.

The best way to fix it is to just give him lots of attention, he won’t behave like this is you have to leave for something important (he understands duty like the best of them), so it’s very easy to address.

Bakugou idly stirred a pot of miso soup as the radio in the kitchen blasted out whatever awful top 40 song it had picked this morning. He had only put it on to fill the silence really, which was the only thing this awful excuse for music was good for in his opinion.

He was making breakfast for the two of you as a kind of mini celebration. He had two days off in a row, the first time in a couple of months because of his crazy work schedule and he wanted to make sure he spent every moment that he could with his alpha. And so, here he was, getting up early to prepare breakfast for your both.

There was a lull in noise as the radio switched between songs, and in the few moments of silence, Bakugou could hear shuffling coming from the bathroom. He grinned. Perfect timing.

He put down the last plate and waited for you to come out, you should be here any second now.

 Fiddling with your shirt one last time you swung open your bedroom door, bag on your shoulder, finally ready to leave. You were interrupted momentarily by a delicious scent in the air. Bakugou must be cooking, so you followed the smell to the kitchen and walked in to say goodbye to him, vaguely sad that you were going to be missing his food, but he was probably only making himself something to bring to work, anyway.

And then you saw the elaborate breakfast spread your heart stopped. Had you forgotten an anniversary? Bakugou looked just as shocked to see you dressed up and ready to leave. However, his shock soon melts into frustration.

“Why are you all dressed up?” he growled, the excitement that had been on his face when you walked in now gone. “You said you weren’t working today.”

“I’m not,” you said quietly, confused as to why he was so upset. “Izuku messaged me while I was getting dressed and invited me for brunch, I was just going to meet him.”

Bakugou’s face screwed up at your words. He went to open his mouth but then stopped. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was doing the breathing exercises that his therapist taught him for when he was angry. What had you done to make him this upset?

The relaxing exercises clearly weren’t working for him because he stood up from the table and stalked out of the room suddenly, shutting himself in your bedroom. You winced as the door slammed shut behind him.

Oh dear… you had made your mate so upset that he had shut himself away in your bedroom. Your stomach twisted itself into a knot. It was time for some damage control (and a quick check of the calendar to makes sure you hadn’t actually forgotten an anniversary or something.)

You shot a quick text to Midoriya, apologising for cancelling and letting him know that something had come up. He sent back a ‘don’t worry!’ message and about six smiling emojis. Well, at least he wasn’t also mad at you.

Fishing out a tray from the cupboard above the sink, you stacked it up with as much food from the table as you could, thankful that it appeared to still be warm, and carried it to your bedroom door.

“Katsuki?” you called out, knocking on the door with your foot. “I’m coming in, is that okay?”

There was silence. Well, silence was better than swearing, so you carefully slid open the door and moved towards the brooding lump on the bed.

“The fuck do you want?” he growled. “I thought you were going out to eat with Deku?”

You froze at his vicious tone. Was he jealous? Well, that was a lot easier to solve than forgetting an anniversary, at least.  With a smile, you slid the tray onto the bedside table and climbed on the bed behind you mate, letting out a reassuring scent. You wrapped your arms around him, ignoring how he tensed in your embrace, and whispered into his ear.

“Why would I spend time with Midoriya when I could be spending time with you, hmm?” you whispered, purposefully blowing hot air onto his neck. You revelled in his full body shiver. “The only reason I accepted plans with Midoriya was because I thought you were going to work.” You pressed as close to him as you could and placed a single kiss right behind his ear. Bakugou melted at the affection.

“Come on now,” you continued, a coy smile on your face. “Let’s not let this delicious breakfast go to waste.”

You reached over and scooped a little bit of rice onto your fingers before holding it up to his lips. Bakugou opened his mouth with only a small grumble in complaint, and you made sure to push your fingers a little deeper inside than perhaps absolutely necessary.

“I promise I’ll make this morning’s misunderstanding up to you.”

Miscellaneous:

Bakugou’s scent is fairly sweet but still quite smoky.

When he’s upset/stressed, his scent is like burnt sugar, and when he’s very happy/excited, he smells like almost like a marshmallow roasting on a bonfire.

It’s a very pleasant scent but it does tend to divide people. Some love it, and others hate it.  Bakugou doesn’t care what anyone else thinks about his scent (except his alpha, but shh, that’s a secret!)

In his family, his father is an omega and his mother is an alpha and while they are happy together, Bakugou always promised himself that he would never end up in a relationship like that. He didn’t want some alpha bossing him around like his mother bossed around his father.

Bakugou finds meek alphas (and people) annoying, but he doesn’t like super aggressive alphas either. He’s attracted to people who exist in the middle of those extremes.

Bakugou knew he was an omega from birth, and it was something he was very insecure about for a long time. It was a big part of why he turned out the way he did as a child, he was making up for something that he viewed as a weakness by being as aggressive as possible.

His mother wasn’t great at making him feel secure in his secondary gender, assuming he would like certain things and pushing him in certain directions simply because he was an omega.

His father said that he was there if Bakugou had any questions, but he let Bakugou reach out to him instead of reaching out to Bakugou, and Bakugou was too proud to make the first move.

Bakugou ends up deciding that being an omega wasn’t going to stop him becoming the No. 1 hero. He decided that he could overcome being an omega.

It wasn’t until he was an adult that he actually started to accept being an omega was a part of him that he didn’t need to overcome, but that he could instead embrace and that it didn’t make him weak to do so.

When he does become a mainstream hero, he makes sure to always tell the omega children that he meets that they can do whatever they want and still be an omega.

N-sfw under the cut

Bakugou is a switch, mostly.

Oftentimes he switches multiple times in the same session, so his alpha needs to be quite the brat tamer to keep him from getting frustrated and trying to get on top so that he can control the pace.

He has a very high sex drive, and he likes to have a partner who can match him because he way prefers sex to masturbating.

It would be hard to find someone whose chest and nipples are as sensitive as Bakugou’s, and when he’s in heat, he can definitely orgasm just from his chest being stimulated.

Bakugou is also definitely a squirter, something which he was very shocked and embarrassed to find out.

Bakugou generally prefers slightly rougher sex. He gets bored when the pace is too slow and definitely scratches and bites (and is happy to receive the same in return).

When he’s in heat, Bakugou is a bit different.

He’s not a pillow prince by any means, but he is definitely a lot more passive than he is normally.

He’s not super loud, but he definitely swears a lot, even between waves of heat when he gets grumpy that he’s too hot and sticky. That swearing is a lot less sexy though.

Bakugou’s sexual side doesn’t really come out outside of his own home. He doesn’t like flaunting anything in public and can even get uncomfortable talking about sex with his friends, especially when they tease him with personal questions. He’s definitely a private person when it comes to sex.

Although that is not to say he isn’t confident in the expression of his own sexuality, much to opposite is true. He is definitely the kind of person to order some new toy or outfit on the internet every month to surprise his alpha.

He’s sexy and he knows it, so why not?

[4dtk]

Saw your post but Gojo Bday fic 🖤😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏 “You’re so in for it when we get home.”

hehe thank you for requesting!! a day late but it’s ok. i got carried away...

warnings: sorta fwb!gojo, dom!gojo, sub!afab!reader, sex under the influence (reader drinks alcohol, not that drunk), blowjob, brief oral (m receiving), public sex, sorta exhibitionism, doggy standing up, doggy, praise + degradation, unprotected sex, breeding/creampie, kinda soft at the end, N//SFW UNDER THE CUT, irl p*rn at the end (not SUUUPER accurate to the position i write but that video is so 🥴)

gojo sees you from across the party in the club, eyelids narrowed into slits when you down your fifth glass alcohol with utahime who’s shit-faced drunk. you’re for sure shouting in her ear when you grasp her arm to scream, saying something about getting another drink that gojo overhears even if he doesn’t have superpowers. sure, he could see with a blindfold, but he’s become so obsessed that he can read your lips clearly.

even with that, gojo would never admit that he’s fallen, keeping up the facade that you were one of his flings. he answers nonchalantly when you asks about the next hookup, he brushes off your questions of whether he’s on the market, he glances to the side when your figure unconsciously cuddles up to him and yet when you’re having the time of your life at his birthday party (which even utahime didn’t want to attend), he seethes with jealousy.

you weren’t his, so why was he so worked up anyway, right?

annoyed, he tugs on his blindfold, playing with the edge of it even when his students, recently turned legal, settle down beside him. yuji enjoys himself like always, taking in the never-seen-before sights of the club and megumi looks like he rather be somewhere else — still he can’t ignore his caretaker at 6 years old — and nobara, who seems to know every little thing about your relationship with their infuriating teacher.

“you know, sensei, staring is not going to do anything if you don’t actually do the thing,” she says unimpressed, sipping from her apple cider packet that makes an obnoxiously loud noise. it seems like that was her intention, anyway, with raised eyebrows. “you men think we have complicating feelings and yet you don’t do anything and instead just mope in the distance.”

gojo only sighs, not even denying it and instead takes a sip from his sparkling water, eyes still starring at your hips swaying from side to side above the rim of the glass until you meet his eyes from across the room like a cliched movie scene. gojo can feel the air being knocked out of his lungs when you wave him over while the other woman protests against it because while utahime can hardly make out whether the party lights are currently purple or pink, she doesn’t want gojo anywhere near her, to which she leaves to talk to yaga.

“come here often?” and you have to roll your eyes even if it was the oldest line in the book, but it no doubt has your heart pumping faster. you’re glad you can blame the sudden adrenaline on the alcohol.

“get to the point, gojo.”

“ouch, not even a first name?” he complains, wrapping a hand around your waist to bring you close to him. “and here i thought we were best friends.”

you scoff, “hardly, satoru. how’s your birthday so far for someone who can’t drink a single ounce of alcohol?”

it draws a laugh out of the other, who moves his palm right down to your ass, squeezing it gently, “how’s your legs so far for someone who only gets fucked by the strongest?”

you gulp at that, suddenly reminded of the many nights of pure, unfiltered fucking with the man across you. it sparks the sensation of your front pressed against his granite counters to the pressure of his showerhead against your cunt, purchased solely for you. even so, you try not to let it get to you, letting the familiar buzz of the alcohol encourage you to trail a hand down his chest. his breath hitches as you get awfully close to his erection, squeezing it slightly that elicits a whimper out of the other, “i think they’re doing just fine, thank you for asking.”

puckering your lips, it ends in a dramatic smack of your lips before you leave him to get more whiskey into your glass and gojo decides that it’s the end for you, that he’ll have you screaming once he warps you back into his apartment. it’s the last straw when he sees you’re leaned over the bar, and he wants to hold you down to the counter to fuck you so bad that he regrets inviting his students (why he decided to invite them to a club, no less), but albeit, he has to hold it in.

gojo stalks over to you to remove the glass from your fingers, right after the bartender pours it, before a slam is heard throughout the club, some droplets of your whiskey spilling onto gojo’s hand. even so, no one pays attention over the loud music apart from the neighbouring partygoers, too lost into gojo’s eyes that are slowly filling up with lust at your simple gesture. you remember those eyes to be like crystals, always so sure of his goal of resetting the jujutsu world or his infinity technique.

“you’re so in for it when we get home.”

and while gojo doesn’t want to admit like he never does, you’ve always gotten those eyes to darken in need and want and lust.

“oh, am i?” simply grabbing his hand, you down the glass of whiskey, confidently unhanding his fingers from the cold glass before you take it. and you challenge him, you look up at him as you lick up stray droplets that’s dirtied his hand. the tongue that glides across his skin is so warm and flexible and-

gojo lies, a whole lot, but when it comes to you, he can’t bring himself to spill untrue words. he’s going to make sure that you’re absolutely in for it, that you’re ruined once he gets you into his bed.

you giggle, a little high now, when he warps you back to his apartment in an instant, shoved against the hardness of his front door. his hands are frantic in removing his jeans, not even realising he’s on the wrong side of the door, but you’re thrilled by the possibility of being caught that you don’t hesitate to wrap your lips around his still hardening cock.

“o-oh my god, baby... your mouth’s so warm—” it’s takes some of the weight off of his shoulders, feeling your warm mouth encasing his length that he wants to cum there and then. you start to bob your head sloppily, making the lewdest noises while you hollow out your cheeks. sucking and squeezing with your hand, it reminds him of your tight hole.

“oh, no no no, i-i can’t—” abruptly he yanks you off, which you don’t exactly protest to as he brings you right into his home. he knows you’re a little intoxicated that you’d probably fumble with your underwear, so he does it for you. the fabric burns against your skin when he practically rips it off of you while your hands try to grab at anything on the shoe cupboard.

you’re so wet that you hardly need any prep, though. sighing as gojo’s fingers brushes over your hole, you realise it’s the only friction that you’ve felt for the whole night, all fervour leaving your body when they tease your cunt. “so wet, hm?”

you nod, grinding your hips onto the finger that’s drenched. “wan’ your cock, ’toru. right now, right now!”

“patience, princess.” gojo’s groans are heard when he first slips the tip in, red and angry, into your pussy. your name falls from his lips, coming out in short breaths when he feels your gummy walls hug him. he doesn’t waste any time, starting to snap his hips into yours and it sends a surge of pleasure up your spine, screaming out his name.

“s’big, s-satoru! you’re so deep!” gojo doesn’t even answer, hypnotised by the way his length disappears into you. from here, he can see how spread open your pussy lips are, accommodating his fat cock in your pussy that he’s personally shaped to be his. “more, more!”

and with every plea that falls from your lips, gojo gives it to you harder and faster because gojo does not lie to you, even when he wants to punish you for something, always giving into the temptation. gojo only ever lies to himself.

“you’re always take me so well, baby—” overcome with the want to fuck you dumb, he warps again to the bedroom while he’s still in you, but his hands are now deep in your hair. they push you down into the sheets while you shamelessly spread your legs to take in more of him. “—and always so desperate, too. what happened to your confidence earlier? gone, isn’t it? because you’re just a cockslut just for me, yeah?”

the questions only bring answers in the form of delirious giggles, agreeing with babbles and drool leaving your mouth. “yes, yes! ’m satoru’s slut!”

gojo smirks, “whore,” and it’s true, every thought and rational decision thrown out the window once he plays with your pussy, once his cock sinks into you. still hammering into you, he can feel his muscles starting to tighten and the slapping of skin get louder.

“that feel good? i’m close, baby,” gojo mumbles, body weight pressing onto yours that aligns comfortably with your glistening back. it allows him to snake an arm around your waist to toy with your clit, that it gets a mewl among the many moans that you let out, mixing with the squelching noises of your sopping, sloppy pussy.

“need your cum, ’toru. please, please, please!” you beg into the sheets below, both heart and cunt fluttering in excitement when his free hand finds yours. they intertwine with your fingers, giving you something to hold onto while his hips continue to piston into you. gojo prides himself on his stamina, yet he feels tired, he feels a little softer today, but it doesn’t matter when he knows you’re reaching your high too. clenching and writhing in his arms, he knows your body too well.

“baby, baby, you need to relax, fuck— if not i’ll-” gojo shivers when you cum unexpectedly, a long moan leaving your throat while you cream all over his length. your juices leak so much that it spills onto the sheets below, “pretty girl, pretty little thing, thaaat’s it, coat my cock with your cum.”

his insults turn into praises, lips groaning and breath hot in your ear when he delivers his last thrust into your hole before he cums hard, whimpering. he spurts his seed deep into your womb as you hum at the feeling, walls milking him for all he’s worth and you’re so comfy that he doesn’t even want to move.

“’toru?” gojo makes a sound of acknowledgement.

“what is it, beautiful?” and even under the influence, you can’t ignore the way the word feels on gojo’s lips.

“you know, you’re the only one ever.” gojo doesn’t know what to make of it, but his heart brims with pride. maybe his feelings aren’t that unrequited after all and maybe the strongest can finally stop lying to himself — guess he’ll just have to ask you about it in the morning where you’d definitely be cuddled into his broad chest, tracing your fingers over his always like you always do.

how he fucks you ♡ (irl p*rn, don’t open unless comfortable!)

event rules here

[alluringjae]

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome​ (dm me if you want to be added) 

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

 To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

 Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

 Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

 (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

 Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

 A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down.  Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

 I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

 Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 4

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2877

Additional note: This is the final chapter. There'll be an epilogue, but you'll have to wait a bit because there are a lot of challenges I've signed up for and I'm way behind schedule.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

Devastated and angry at the world. That's how Ivar is feeling.

Holed up in his room since the night before, and despite Lagertha incessant requests, he doesn’t plan to come out, not now at least. Come to think of it, he might as well decide never to leave his room again.

He can't stand the idea of facing his brothers. He doesn't want to have to tell them about his failure. He doesn't want to endure Ubbe's pity and condescendence. He doesn't want to see the look of triumph on Sigurd's face. The thought makes his stomach lurch while at the same time a murderous urge creeps into his mind. No, he definitely can't see his brothers.

Surprisingly, and unlike Lagertha, his brothers have left him alone, as if sensing that entering his room would be as moving into a minefield. Only Hvitserk had taken a chance earlier, cautiously poking his head through the door. His disapproving look obvious when his eyes had taken in the scene before him, Ivar's belongings scattered on the floor, some of them smashed into pieces.

"I got you a chocolate muffin from the kitchen, baby bro," he had explained, putting it on a nearby shelf, and it had almost brought a smile to Ivar's face. To Hvitserk, there's no predicament that can't be improved with comfort food.

"Look, Ivar," scratching his neck, Hvitserk had then said, "I don't know what happened and I don't want to pressure you. You tell me when you're ready, if you are. But I'm here, okay? Whatever the time of day or night, you don't have to be alone if you don't want to. If I'm upstairs, just call me, okay?" With these words, he was gone, the door closed.

Ivar can't get the events of the previous evening out of his mind. Like a waking nightmare, they are playing over and over in his head: how he had freaked out when he heard the beeps; the confused and then so disappointed look you had given him when he sputtered his need to leave; finally, his shameful escape into the night.

What could he have done? What should he have done?

He does know the answer. He should have been more cautious. He should have checked the time, asked for your number and just walked away.

On the other hand, what difference would it have made? He would still have no future with you, right? He would still be a cripple, and you would still be... you... perfect... too good for him.

So yeah, he had run away like a coward. He lets out a bitter chuckle to himself. Run away? Who is he kidding? He hadn't run away, that would have been too easy. Cripples don't run away. Without his cane – why the fuck did he leave it behind?? – he had pathetically limped away, stumbling, his feet sinking into the sand. He had still been on the beach when the battery had died. He had had no other choice but to crawl like a worm the rest of the way, silently praying to the gods that the darkness of the night would prevent you from seeing him like this.

Tears of despair run down his cheeks for the umpteenth time. He's used to feeling humiliated, but feeling humiliated and heartbroken simultaneously is really too much to take. He feels like he's dying from the inside over and over again, cursing himself for wanting to attend the party, for wanting to see you again. He should never have let his walls down, he should never have dared to hope. What was he thinking? He may have walked, and even danced with you, but at the end of the day, he still is a pitiable cripple with stupid, crooked legs, in love with a girl way out of his league.

If he's being honest, that's what hurts the most. He now realizes how delusional he had been. Holding on to a dead dream for years, he had not forseen the painful yet unavoidable reality check. And now, it's like he's been hit by a train. Because there's no denying it, dreaming of a life with you is no longer an option, not after last night. And even though it's almost unbearable, he knows now he has to let go of you, of the idea of you and him being together. As much as this mere thought is devastating, he has no other choice. He has to stop fooling himself, for his own sanity, if nothing else.

Giving a guttural cry, much like that of a wounded animal, Ivar doesn't hear when the front doorbell rings. Not that he would have reacted even if he had heard it, too busy wallowing in self-pity.

***

"Thank you for having us here on such short notice, my dear." Your uncle states joyfully, his eyes sparkling, as Lagertha greets him with a handshake and a tight-lipped smile. Even though you don't know why, it's obvious that she's not his biggest fan.

Your uncle, who doesn't seem to notice – or doesn't care, you're not sure – keeps giving her a beaming smile. "My niece here," he turns his head toward you for a short moment, "has a weird request. She met a boy yesterday, during the party. He lost something and my sweet Y/N has been adamant since this morning that she wants to find him and personally return it to him. We were wondering," he turns his gaze in the direction of the couch, "if it could be one of your wards."

There are indeed three young men, half sprawled on the couch, who get up as one when Lagertha gives them a stern look. If you vaguely remember having seen them before, a single glance is enough for you to know that the one you're looking for is not among them.

You're on the verge of saying so but your uncle doesn't give you a chance to. "See boys," he unceremoniously grabs the cane you're holding behind your back, "here is the lost item. A cane! Fairly uncommon, if you ask me. Anyway... Does this... thing belong to any of you?"

Since you know it doesn't, you're surprised when two of the guys both take a step forward. "Actually, it's mine," they say in unison, each of them only then becoming aware that the other is speaking.

Dumbstruck, you look at one then the other successively. They've got a lot of nerve! You know they're lying, and you would have known it even if these two idiots hadn't spoken at the same time. They just look nothing like your handsome stranger – if he's a stranger.

"Sigurd, you know it's mine!"

"Don't play dumb, you never use a cane, Ubbe! Whereas me, I do sometimes. Everyone knows artists tend to be eccentric, right?"

The blondest one – Sigurd if you heard right – points his finger at a guitar leaning against the wall and then winks at you, "I'm a musician, you know?" You don't even have time to roll your eyes as the other one – Ubbe? – yells, his nostrils flaring.

"Shut up Sig, you're so full of shit! You know I've got a sprained ankle!"

"A sprained ankle, no kidding? Who did a ten-kilometer run today, huh? It's not me! So, you are the one going to shut up, you fucking douchebag!"

It's almost funny to watch them arguing back and forth. If you weren't so pissed off, you'd laugh. But right now, you're mostly mad at them. Their blatant lies make your blood boil with anger.

Are they really thinking you're a complete idiot? That you can be fooled so easily? Who do they think they are? Who do they think you are? Some stupid chick ready to fall for their good looks? If they think that, they're kidding themselves.

"You're the fucking douchebag, Sig!! Don’t forget I'm the oldest!"

"And what's the difference, huh? You can't have all the girls, Ubbe! Keep fucking Margrethe and just let me be! Stop being a controlling asshole!"

"STOP!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!"

Lagertha's shout is deafening and if looks could kill, these two morons would be lying dead on the floor right here, right now.

"Y/N, my dear," Lagertha gives you an apologetic smile, "I'm so sorry for that. I swear they usually know how to behave, better than that at least. Guess they don't know how to handle your striking beauty. Now sweetheart, tell me, is one of these two knuckleheads the one you were with last night?"

The silence that falls on the room after her question is so complete that you could hear a pin drop. Acutely aware that all eyes are on you, you shyly lower your gaze, shaking your head slightly, as you clasp your hands over your belly. You eventually speak, your eyes meeting Lagertha's, and you can see she knows what you're going to say. "No, the guy I was with last night is not one of them."

"How can you be so sure?" Sigurd's voice is soft and tentative now, and Ubbe adds, seemingly for once in agreement with his younger brother, "yeah, how can you? It was pretty dark after all."

You give them a smile. "How can I be so sure? You mean beside the fact that you obviously don't need a cane? Neither of you?" The third brother, who still hasn't opened his mouth, chuckles, giving you a thumbs up. "Look, I appreciate your interest, I really do, but neither of you are the one I am looking for. Therefore," you look at your uncle, "we should leave, don't you think?" Checking the time on your watch, you shrug. "What about the Eyvindsson family? Didn't you tell me about three brothers? We may have time to go and see them tonight if we hurry."

Your uncle nods, handing you back the cane. "You're right, Y/N, we should leave." Taking two steps forward, he grabs Lagertha's hand. "Sorry dear, we will waste no more of your time."

You're about to thank her when one of the boys clears his throat. "Ahem..."

Turning your head, you're surprised to see the third brother, the silent one, raising his hand. "I think I might know who this cane belongs to." Frowning, he glances at his brothers. "And you both know it too."

"Shut up, Hvitserk!" Sigurd spits, clenching his hands into fists. "Don't bring the fucking cripple into the conversation."

"Sigurd! Keep your mouth shut!" Lagertha glares at him for several long seconds then her face softens as she looks at Hvitserk, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What are you trying to say, Hvitserk? Do you think this cane belongs to your baby brother?"

Hvitserk nods. "I know it does, actually."

"Come on, Hvit, you're talking nonsense. It cannot be, it just cannot. That guy was standing. It wasn't our brother. Our brother wasn't there last night." Ubbe stubbornly insists, but Hvitserk just shakes his head.

"Of course, he was. I saw him. And don't bullshit me, Ubbe, you saw him too. With Y/N." Hvitserk states. That's when you realize that your palms are sweating and your pulse is racing.

Hvitserk keeps going, now speaking to his guardian. "I know what I saw, Lagertha. It was him. I don't know how, but he was standing, Ubbe is right. He was even walking. It may sound weird but I swear, it was him."

Lagertha nods. "I believe you, Hvitserk." A beaming smile spreads across her lips and she tilts her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if Floki had something to do with such a miracle. Go get your brother, Hvitserk, please."

Your heart leaps at these words, you're barely able to contain your excitement and as you let out a nervous chuckle, you cannot help but jump for joy. Needless to say, Ubbe and Sigurd seem much less enthusiastic than you.

***

Reluctantly following his brother, Ivar mutters under his breath, "you're pissing me off, Hvit. I'm fucking not in the mood for whatever you have in mind."

Hvitserk pays him no mind though, a small smile dancing on his lips. "Trust me, baby bro, you'll be in the mood."

Ivar wants to protest, or maybe just turn around and wheel back to his room but all at once the sound of your voice reaches his ears and he stops, frozen in place, his eyes wide open. He may have stopped breathing.

Patting his shoulder reassuringly, Hvitserk whispers, "It's Y/N, baby bro, but I have a feeling you already know. She's here for you, she was looking for you, Ivar. Go..." before giving a single push to his brother's wheelchair, his right hand on the backrest.

Ivar honestly doesn't know how he manages to wheel himself into the living room. What he does know, however, is that you're suddenly standing right in front of him. The heart stopping smile you flash him blows all the air out of his lungs, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, and the outside world – Lagertha, his brothers, Harald – ceases to exist.

A little voice tells him he should be feeling self-conscious with his hair all messy and wearing worn sweatpants, but he can't bring himself to care, not when you kneel in front of him with stars in your eyes.

"Here you are, finally," you breathe, gently placing a hand on his knee. Ivar didn't know until now that one could die of happiness, but that's exactly what he's feeling and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Swallowing, he blinks several times. When he speaks, his voice trembles, his bottom lip quivering. "Hello Y/N, you were... looking for... for me?" He has trouble getting the words out, his nervous fingers fidgeting on his lap.

Grabbing both his hands in yours, you nod, your thumbs stroking his knuckles tenderly. "I was, yes, and for a very long time."

Shyly lowering his head, Ivar, almost feeling dizzy, can't wrap his head around your words. They're just too good to be true. "But... why?"

"Why?" You giggle, your laughing eyes lighting up your face, and he's positive, you're even more beautiful like this. "Isn't it obvious? I want to know more about you, what's your favorite color, what you eat for breakfast, where you see yourself in ten years. I just want to spend time with you, Ivar."

'Ivar' You've just said his name and it's like the sweetest music to his ears. He can't believe it. Wow. "You... You recognized me?" There's so much hope and joy in his voice, he cringes.

You shrug, your smile never leaving your lips. "I wasn't sure at first. You've changed a lot." Your hand cups his cheek. The sensation on his skin is so overwhelming he has to hold back the tears threatening to gush. Yet, he can't help but think you're speaking about his legs.

He grits his teeth. "Yeah... Standing tall can change a man."

"No! no, no, no," you retort without missing a beat, "That's not what I meant. In my memory you still looked like you did when we were ten, but look at you now, all grown up! Your hair was so short back then." Reaching out, you brush a strand of hair back and tuck it behind his ear before letting your fingers run slowly down and up his bulging biceps, your hand finally lingering on his forearm, "Plus, you clearly work out a lot. So, yeah, I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure. When we were dancing last night, I thought I'd ask you right after, but then you left and... well... I didn't have a chance..."

Ivar wraps his fingers around yours, a frown creasing his forehead. "About that, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left like–"

You shush him, holding a finger to his lips. "It doesn't matter, Ivar. You don't have to explain. All that matters is that I found you." Standing up, you lean forward and gently kiss his cheek and he feels like he's floating. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you whisper in his ear, "I reckon we got some lost time to make up, you and me. Can we go stargazing now?"

Hearing this makes Ivar's insides turn to jelly. Barely able to think, he is on cloud nine and wishes with all his heart never to come back down to earth again. But despite the daze, despite the fog in his head, despite the blinding happiness, he knows one thing: no matter how many stars he sees, you'll be the brightest one.

"Yes, Y/N, you're right," bringing your hand to his mouth, he gives it a kiss, "let's go stargazing."

And as he leaves the room, you walking alongside him with your hand on his shoulder, his heart filled with joy and wonder, he doesn't miss the thumbs up Hvitserk gives him, nor the scowl on Ubbe's and Sigurd's faces.

For a fleeting second, he thinks he should – he could – taunt them. They deserve to be laughed at, don't they? But then, he realizes he doesn't have time for that. The time for happiness has come, and it's far more important.

Giving you a beaming smile, Ivar inhales deeply before releasing a sigh of satisfaction. Yeah. Happiness. Happiness sounds good.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar’s taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

[shelby-love]

TOMMY SHELBY

Marrying Off for Love

Requested: yes (by anonymous)

Prompts: none

Warning(s): language

Word Count: 1.8K

Author's note: I made this as realistic as possible! It ends neutrally I think; not happily but not you know... It's an ending fit for the Peaky Blinders!

This is a Reader x OC / Tommy Shelby x daughter!reader one shot

~

Being free of the name was always a distant thought in your mind. You would weigh the good and the bad of having a last name with significant influence. The good somehow always overthrown the bad, leaving you with everything other than a clear, calm mind.

Sure, the luxury that came with being a Shelby was worth the sacrifice. So was your twisted family, you guessed.

At least until you met him.

A fine man with a heart of gold. Quite literally the only man in Britain worth your while.

He was perfect in every way with his looks and his manners… save for the name, of course.

Alessi Villin.

That was just your luck. Getting attention of your father's rivaling gangsters and falling head over heels in love with the man in charge.

So what does a girl do in that situation?

She chooses love of course.

***

"What the bloody hell is wrong with Y/N?" Asked Arthur after barging into the Garrison that was empty just several moments later. No man stayed upon hearing that the Shelby's were gathering for a meeting. The oldest of the brothers, and coincidentally your favorite one, leaned over the empty bar having decided to fix himself s strong drink.

"How's Linda?" Asked Polly instead, pressing her cigarette against the ash tray. She had left a few cigarettes burn themselves out until the smell started to dominate. Satisfied, she leaned back, never looking more imposing as she did right then.

"She's alright," he mumbled, swinging the glass so the drink practically flew into his throat like a rapid.

"Right," started Ava, discarding her coat on a lone chair before settling in the middle of the huddled Shelby family. "Family meeting."

"We can't start," Arthur announced suddenly, crashing onto a chair with a bottle of scotch in hand. "Y/N's not 'ere."

"Then where in the bloody hell is she?" Ada asked with a tired frown, knowing you were never late for the meetings. You showed your distaste toward them yes, but never in your life have you avoided or been purposely late to one.

It intrigued Tommy to know too. His daughter was his whole world. You were the piece of his past life that not even war could take away. Even though he didn't show it.

But the man shook his head, knowing one thing – his daughter wasn't a stupid girl. Like her aunts, she was every bit as cunning and smart. A true Shelby lady.

But still.

Where were you?

Only Polly Gray knew, but she wasn't going to say a word until it was deemed necessary.

***

The top of the grass hill has overlooked the forests for many years. The soft array of green grass and variously colored wildflowers goes on for miles all around. The air is cool against your skin, with a touch of humidity from the last night's rain.

Your legs stretch out in front of you like you've ran for miles. The blissful feeling from the position you're in eases your tense muscles. It's beautiful really, despite the slightly damp ground. Your back falls against the grass and hair spreads at the ground. The sky is clear, the perfect shade of light blue. It almost looks too good to be true. It makes you smile in delight, as you didn't really remember the last time you truly drew in a fresh breath of air.

The man who had brought you out too see this was even more beautiful. Alessi's carefree smile pursued by eyes the same shade as grass around you put your mind at ease. Helped you think clearly. Something you hadn't done in a long time.

You looked at him and saw what you wanted to be – someone free of chains that hold one's mind back from thinking out of the box. Someone loyal to a fault and loving.

 "Oi! Come here," you bellowed, sitting up and waving your hands in the air to get him away from the red wildflowers and into your arms.

Alessi didn't waste a beat and marched back toward you.

Wrapped in each other's embrace, and you never felt more at home.

That thought scared you. It scared you to know that now, there was another place you called home. In the arms of your father's rival none the less.

But that's what he gets for leaving you to your thoughts all your life. He let you be swallowed by the doubts and insecurities until he couldn't do anything about the said fact.

You had always told yourself; It's the war. The war had done that to him.

But shouldn't a father love his daughter more than anything in the world? Tommy is a complicated man that chose to move his family up in the world as a way to cope with the lingering nightmares of the war.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Alessi had asked, immediately pulling you out of the train of thoughts in your mind.

"That raspy voice of yours is the sweetest of songs to my ears," you mused with a smile, head against his chest that rose and fell with rhythmic ease.

His laugh broke out, disrupting the peaceful atmosphere.

You sat up and reached for his pocket, pulling out his favorite pocket watch to check the time. He had it custom made - the watch – wanting to have both of your initials on the front.

You melted every time you saw it.

"I missed the family meeting," you said suddenly, realization sinking in. Alessi met your eyes after you had finished quietly cursing the planet.

"I mean," you started, "It's not like I wanted to go. That's more of a formality I guess… Showing up and all."

He nodded in understanding but a question stood in front of the understanding, "Then why'd you fall in love with me? My family meeting was 2 days ago."

You bit your lip, not quite knowing how to answer.

Alessi didn't look any different than before asking the question as he stood up off the damp grass, fetching his waistcoat to put on. "What are you doing?"

"Preparing," he simply said, the thick Scouse accent breaking out with the word.

"Preparing for what?" You asked him, scurrying over to stand up.

"To ask you to marry me."

He appeared in front of you, and like a gentleman went down on one knee. There wasn't a gangster in him at that moment, the façade for the public disappeared to show something he showed only you.

Love.

Something you hadn't experienced in a long time.

"I don't care about your family, Y/N." Alessi said, "The only one I care about is you. I don't want to start a war with them because I don't want to see you get hurt. That's how much I care for you. That is just how much I love you."

Whatever happened in the next moments were true.

You had chosen to be someone's bride.

You had chosen a side you would stand by for the rest of your life.

***

The Shelby meeting could be thrown straight in the mud. Every family member went after their thing and the only thing that did seem to flow in peace was the alcohol.

"No, I really think someone kidnapped her." Arthur repeated for the 5th time, truly believing that someone had forcefully taken you as a leverage against them.

"She's not missing."

Polly saw no point in keeping your secret at that moment and so for the first time, you had given her the honors of revealing something instead of you.

"Then where the fuck is she, eh?" Arthur voiced.

Aunt Pol smiled down at Tommy who was holding the wooden chair in a vise grip, not saying a word for a few moments. Her lust for the dramatics only brought new tension into the room. "With the man she loves."

Polly's words shocked everyone present. Arthur choked on his alcohol; Ada's eyes went wide; Lizzie froze in her seat, her cigarette left and forgotten in her hand.

And as your father.

He wore a blank expression on his face even when he asked, "Who?"

Polly chuckled, "Alessi Villin, of course."

"Hold the fuck up!" Arthur butted in. "That bastard Villin we've been having trouble with?! What the hell happened with 'Don't fuck with the Peaky Blinders'? What the hell is wrong with 'er?"

"Y/N was never a Peaky," Polly told him, glancing at Tommy just as those words left her mouth. "But you knew that already, didn't you Tommy?"

"I suspected," Your dad admitted. "Just not with-"

"Your fucking competition…" Ada finished for him, clicking her tongue in pure disbelief, "I say good for her. She'll be the one that managed to get away from this twisted family!"

"Yea and then go to another one that's just like fucking us! Maybe even fucking worse!"

Both Ada and Arthur were shouting at each other now. The two were accompanied by Lizzie who had her own comments to add too.

Polly and Tommy stared each other down, "That boy loves her Tommy," Pol said. "She's his whole world. I saw it with my own eyes. And she loves him too."

Thomas said nothing as his aunt left the stunned family alone in the Garrison pub, ending the Shelby meeting with a single sentence.

***

You stood in front of your father's office door after being summoned the moment you were spotted back in Birmingham. With calm hands you twiddled the ring on your finger as a soon-to-be married woman.

You had a fiancé.

And you had to tell your dad about it.

But given that you missed the meeting, and Polly – the only person that knew – was there to fill in for your absence, you were sure the word has spread. Especially when you spotted Finn acting out the moment he saw you get out of the car. That boy can't keep a secret to save his life.

"You wanted to see me, Dad?" You asked once he called you in.

"Yes," he said, gaze locked on the papers. "Sit down."

You rolled your eyes at the tone and took a seat, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

"An expensive ring you have there," Your father pointed to your left hand with his pen. "Is that what you spend your money on?"

"Was there a reason you wanted to see me?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "I've decided that your engagement to Alessi Villin is a good thing."

Hope sparked at that moment, making you ignore the fact that he knew of the engagement before you even told him. "Really?"

"You have my blessing but should your engagement fail, there is going to be a war. But if you go through with this and marry him, our family and the Villin family will be united forever and this war will be over."

You hardly believed your ears. "Y-you…"

Your father said nothing. "I'm not marrying so you could do business in Liverpool!"

"The Mersey river is Alessi's territory," he tried to reason. "If you marry him than we can-"

"There is no 'we' anymore Dad!" You bellowed through sudden tears, surprising both Tommy and yourself with your voice's strength. "I'm getting bloody married! To the man that I love at last, and you're acting like we're signing a bloody contract!"

The river of words flew out your mouth, "Don't treat me like you treated John! My marriage isn't like his!"

"Now, if that's all," You stood up and fixed your skirt. "I'd like to leave. I have a wedding to plan."

You pressed your cigarette into his ash tray before turning on your heel and leaving your father for the first time in your life, to his own thoughts.

~

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MASTERLIST

[camslightstories]

Tolerate It - Part 12

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. Female Reader. 

Notes: Hey guys! How are you all doing? Well its been a long time since I updated tolerate it and its because I haven't had much inspiration, I been in a literal block, a part from that everything i been writing lately I hate it but I didn't want to let you guys hanging. So thanks to @captain-josslett​ for checking and helping me in this part.

I love to hear your theories, opinions, suggestions and more so if you have any comments leave on my inbox or message me. I wanna hear what you guys think is going to happen or what you want to happen. But right now I'm not receiving any requests since my inbox is full of them and I don't wanna leave you guys hanging. I hope you guys enjoy, and have a great day!

Taglist: @multi-images​  @captain-josslett​  @aznblossom​  @venteen​   @coxmicbabygirl​  @lezzzbehonesthere​ 

Russian Translations:

Принцесса - Princess

The throbbing pain surges through your body as the cotton full of alcohol touches your wound softly, sending chills through your body. You laid on the white hospital bed in silence as your ex-girlfriend check the ripped wound on your torso.

With the myriad of thoughts and feelings running through your head only to fail, making you groan. Lena glances at you carefully and curiously as you kept quiet, her focus not leaving the ripped wound she was trying to mend. Noticing the different types of scars on your body some of them longer and worse looking.

“Can you tell me how does it feel?” She asks, gulping down when you made no move to speak. With her voice full of worry, she nods and takes her gloves off, only to stop when you spoke loud enough for her to hear.

“It’s fine” You state, keeping your eyes on the ceiling. In a monotone voice, as your heart almost bounced off your chest when she asked. 

Clenching your fists, you move to sit only to groan in full pain as the wound touches the shirt cotton. The green-eyed woman immediately runs to your side, with fear. You took a deep breath before helping yourself up ignoring her questioning expression. 

The Luthor woman out of desperation yells as tears fill her eyes. Throwing her hands into the air. “Can you at least look me in the eye?! Talk to me!”

“What do you want me to say, Ms. Luthor?” You answered rubbing your temples at the sound of her voice, a neutral tone and expression on your face as you looked at her. Her green eyes full of retained tears and her lip trembles as she looks at you. 

She cried, cleaning furiously her tears as you looked at her. The last word came out quieter than the rest, showing a hurting part of herself. “I don't know! Just… please.”

“Ms. Luthor, I don't know what to say to you, nor I know what you wanna hear and I'm sure you don't either.” You answer in a soft yet determined tone as you tried to walk away only for Lena to get in the way crossing her arms as she tried to keep control of her emotions.

“You are just going to walk away?” She remarked loudly, exasperated for an answer. You stopped as you heard the words coming out of her mouth, the obvious distress in them.

 “It seems to be the only thing you can do,” She added looking at you in the eye. You shifted uncomfortably before moving past her as fast as you could, ignoring her scoff.

She scoffed as you walked away from her, clenching your fits trying to find control as you felt the urge to yell at the black-haired woman. Now the free-flowing feelings in you have become stronger and harder to restrain.

You press your lips together and clench your jaw when the black-haired woman shouts loudly and desperately at you. “What about the ring?! What did I feel? What about everything?! Because you are here pretending nothing happen”

The smell of the alcohol invaded your nose, as the itching pain on your lower stomach kept throbbing, feelings run around your heart and head openly without any control. The white lights annoy your eyes as you try to focus on something else only to fail. The sneaky feeling tugging at your heart when you heard the break in her voice. 

The feeling of conflict as the two sides of yourselves began to fight on how to act, how to feel, how to be normal. One part of you asked you, begged specifically to go and wrap the green-eyed woman in a comforting embrace, protecting her from getting hurt. And the other remained you from all the pain, the anger, the sadness you had resorted to when you left and reminded you how easy life was when there was everything clear with a common goal. 

Lena shouted again this time, in an angrier and determinate tone. Stepping closer to you, in her CEO stance but the only difference was the fact that it looked forceful like she was trying so hard to hold it together, you heard her in her voice, in the way her feet hesitated to step closer. And as much as you hated it, it broke you inside. “Y/N! Just tell me something!”

You didn't know, how, when nor why, you turned around facing her with your heart clenching at the sight of her tears springing free. Her eyes looked tired and sorrowful, her cheeks were covered in tears and the ruined makeup, her hands were in a fist that you could tell where a base for self-control. You hated the pain she was revving, you hated the sadness in her eyes, and the tears that sprung freely but never even if you tried you could hate her. 

“Just fuck off, dammit!” Your mind seemed to be in automatic mode when the words came out of your mouth. The green-eyed took a step back in shock when you snapped, the now wide-eyed woman made you regret every decision in your life as her eyes restrained hardly the tears she desired to disappear. 

Against every fiber in your body, you shocked your head before starting again, glancing at your ex-girlfriend. Cutting the tension you took a deep breath before speaking, gaming Lena’s attention. “Look-”

You weren't even in the middle of what you were going to say when two well-known, familiar voices interrupted you. You tensed as you heard the voice of your sisters, the urge to just walk out and the urge to shout everything out were confronting each other as your mind running with all the different scenarios. “Y/N!” 

You kept quiet as your sisters got closer, without hesitation you started to walk away to the run you had been staying only for a familiar blur to stand in front of the door with her arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face. Hope, happiness, and regret radiated out of her, while Alex stood behind you with a determined look on her face as you turned around to walk the other way. 

A part of you wanted to yell at them until there wasn't anything left and the other wanted to walk away leaving everything behind to keep leaving the simple life you had been living for the past 3 years. Lena kept quiet as her mind kept doing rounds of possible explanations, while both of your sisters decided to stand in front of you with nothing but questions. But you remained silent as they did. 

Questions such as “Why do you have so many scars?” “What is the tattoo on your chest?” “What do you mean of the Bratva?” “Why were you with Roulette the other night?” were thrown at you by your older sisters as you tried to ignore each one, only for them to keep pressing. 

Lena had stayed in the same place, as they interrogated you. The black-haired woman somehow noticed the way your patience was getting closer to the end when you clenched your fit with so much force that the veins on your arms started to show slowly. 

“Don't you think we deserve an explanation?” Kara asked, taking a step closer, which made you clench your jaw, the feelings running around your body screamed at you as the pain and anger started to build by second. 

The feeling of anger and betrayal under all of those layers you tried to put up, under what you thought it would make you okay, it would make the pain go away, the memories, the feelings, everything... 

Your oldest sister yelled, getting frustrated by the minute. “Feel free to fill up the blanks, but it seems that you are not going to do that are you?”  The redhead asks sarcastically, covering somehow the relief of how you were but adding the worry of what had happened in the last few years. 

When you didn't respond, ignoring the redhead. Your sister hits the table with her fists showing her frustration. Kara looked back where Alex stood with both of her hands on the table as she looked at you angrily. You stared at her, challenging the redhead, making Lena furrow her eyes when she noticed Alex walking back where Kara stood in front of you letting out a scoff. 

“Don't you think we as your family don't deserve to know?” Kara asked with sorrow in her eyes and voice. Tears swelling up in her eyes as she searched in your eyes for any sign of her baby sister finding none but a challenging glare to the redhead and her now.

You felt everything come out, and you were seeing red. As you were about to snap, a strong familiar voice shouted in determination stopping you. 

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Your clenched jaw and fists kept the pressure making your vivid expression and reaction be acknowledged by all of them. 

Oliver had been standing with Anatoly catching sight of the interaction between you and your sisters. The blonde man remembers vividly how going back the emptiness, the feeling of just wanting the pain to get away, the angriness at the world, every single detail. Seeing the mark on your chest, oblivious to outsiders but obvious to him, a torturous feeling in your chest as you tried to keep yourself in the corner, in the darkness, where you knew not to expect anything. 

He saw the expression in your face, the way your eyebrows knitted together, the way your hands were converted into fists drawing blood at the pressure, the way you clenched your jaw, trying to keep control, the way your eyes were painted deep down with suffering but were void and incomprehensible on the outside, the way you tried to distance yourself into the darkness feeling the only calmness there, the way every time your fists hit something were not in act of defense or attack but in letting your hidden feelings out.  

The way you tried to keep control, of yourself, of your feelings, of the world around you, of the memories, of everything but you, felt powerless in the darkness. Feeling the need to yell and run away from everything, to isolate yourself from the world, believing and trusting in yourself and only trying to keep everything inside. 

“Принцесса, I see you finally decided to escort somebody” Your focus immediately went to the Russian man when he spoke, walking closer to you with a black garment suit bag in his right hand. Holding it up, as you make your way to grab it. His teasing voice made you roll your eyes while snatching the bag out of his hands. 

Smiling at Lena and your sisters, the man walked closer to them as he spoke. Making you sighed in annoyance, while Oliver suppressed a smile. Lena looked at the man in the suit and took his hand with a firm handshake, Kara and Alex following to do the same as he presented himself. “Anatoly Knyazev, at your service. Принцесса friend”

“Work partner, if you don't have vodka or I don't have the green light with your new friend and I'm not courting anyone” You corrected giving him an annoying look, he shook his head when you hissed irritated. 

The Russian man grinned at you before shaking his head as he spoke. “Roulette is not our business associate anymore, too ambitious and mercenary for her own good”

“Nice, then friend. I'm gonna go change, and I can solve a certain complication” You grinned sheepishly, which made Oliver sighed while your sisters and your ex-girlfriend looked at you curiously. 

The Queen man waited for you to be out of hearing sight to speak “This isn't helping”

Anatoly kept quiet as he sat on the sofa, while Oliver spoke. Lena and your sisters stood in front of him, each one of them with expressions of annoyance and worry. 

The blonde man took a step back, crossing his arms as he tried to reason with them before either of the three could respond. "I get it you guys want answers, but right now she needs to let herself be vulnerable again, she needs to feel safe, to feel she isn't in the darkness anymore and neither you nor I know what she went through and it's not going to help if you guys keep pressuring her”

The explanation had left the three feeling uneasy

“You do not get to tell me how to treat my sisters, Queen.” Alex spits at the vigilante. Lena and Kara try to calm the redhead down but your voice stops them. 

“Let’s go” You enter the room and sensing the tension between the two, but you ignore it and walk to where the Russian man sits. Catching the attention of the group of four turning around to see you grabbing the gun from the shelf putting it behind the jacket you carried. 

Alex didn't think twice before running up to you grabbing you by the upper arm, holding you back when you tried to get out of her grasp. Oliver sighed as you spoke, your eyes connected yours and hers in a glance, the staredown between the two created a visible tension. “Alexandra, let me go”

Tilting your head when Kara stepped in to put her hand on your oldest sister's shoulder, looking between the two before walking away with the Russian man by your side. 

----

Entering the car shop you notice the obvious and threatening silence. Letting out a sarcastic sigh when you heard the sudden movement behind the next wall, the sound of the gun clicking, and the pushing from the same source. You looked at the Russian man before shaking your head to the side, taking out your gun. 

Walking down the stairs you felt the end of the arm on the back of your head, and a hand topping your mouth. You kept in place for a second, raising your arms, before flipping the person down the stairs, keeping the gun in your hand before discharging it and throwing it away.

You walked down the stairs before shooting at the man on his thigh when the other two came out. You rolled your eyes when the two guys pulled their guns at you but were thrown to the side when an arrow hit them. Noticing the green arrow you sighed in annoyance before continuing.

“Leave it alone” Anatoly who sat on the chair waiting for you to be done, looked over to the group of four noticing your sisters and ex-girlfriend's expression of shock, while Oliver made his way to you. Noticing the man behind you, you spoke threateningly at him, before turning around. 

----

The tall brunette guy who was now with a black eye and a busted lip, as you kept your hold on his throat. You murmured when the guy kept silent. “Okay then it's the hard way”

Pushing him down before shooting him, you looked over to the black-haired man staring at you with wide eyes. You walked where he was before lowering to the floor having the same eye contact, you looked at him and recognized the immediate fear before speaking. “Taking a wild guess, I'm gonna say you don’t wanna end up like those two, do you?”

The man without thinking shook his head, which made you let out a sarcastic laugh tilting your head at him before helping him up. “Okay, then where is Roulette?”

“I don't know, I don't know” He kept sputtering and shaking his head.  

“She left this morning and left us here with the order to keep watch on someone” When you took a step closer to the guy, making him speak which made you look at him curiously before pushing him to the wall.

“On who?” You asked. 

“Her, Lena Luthor” He responded, whispering only for you to hear, looking over where your ex-girlfriend stood.

A switch had changed and in seconds you felt everything come out, the rage, the pain, and in seconds you were seeing red. The calm, determined dementor had changed to an angry, protective one. A sudden outburst was what you had. 

Moving your arm, pinning the man onto the wall with anger, you spoke eagerly and unease, threatening. Rage in your eyes, as you claimed to press harder into his chest, making the man cough in pain. “You tell Roulette that if she even thinks of breathing the same air in a 200 miles area as Ms. Luthor then I would make her life a living hell and everyone who is with her too”

Kara, who was listening in, smiled softly before looking down. The outburst had shown your care for her best friend, and that was a baby step that meant more than anything. The fact that you snapped at the moment your ex-girlfriend began mentioning showed that maybe it wasn't lost at all.

Your oldest sister looked at Kara curiously, before giving her a shoulder bump, giving her a questioning glance while your sister responded with a silent glance to you and a smile. 

You pulled away from the man, giving him a second to breathe before striking your fist right at his jaw. Immediately knocking him down, the sound of the body plumb into the floor made you realize what just had happened, the myriad of feelings flowing through your mind were taken out the moment an arrow grazed your cheek and the soreness of your knuckles were now bothering you.

Looking behind you, identifying the red arrow, you let out a laugh before taking it out of the wall, throwing it to the side before turning around, softly moving your hand trying to relieve the ache. Oliver seemed to have caught up with the situation as he grabbed the arrow letting out a sigh.

“Still doing the same?” You shouted turning around where Thea stood on the top of the car with her bow in hand and black leather jacket on. A smirk on her face as the brunette jumped landing on the floor perfectly before making her way to you.

“I see you hadn't left the throne, princess” She claimed, teasing the last word. The two of you sharing a silent glance, when she came down. The small spark in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by you and neither by Oliver. 

“And you are not so intimidating, princess” You flirted with the brunette, cleaning the small substance of blood coming out of the graze on your cheek with a teasing smile.

Lena knew the tone you were using, the smile you gave her, the little spark in your voice and eyes as you did. You were flirting with her, the jealousy feeling creeping inside her chest as she noticed. Drawing daggers in the brunettes back, she stood straight pulling out her CEO stand and expression, even if she felt her heart begin twisted remembering the once she was the one receiving the smile, the glance, the tone, everything. And she hoped that one day you would do it again. 

[theshelbyclan]

Not Alone

Summary: You’ve just gone through a very difficult breakup and feel lonelier than ever. But with the help of Ada’s wise words and some family traditions, you start feeling just a little better

A/N: A sweet anon requested: hi luv!! can you maybe do a bit of the brothers or maybe ada helping the shelby sis after a very hard breakup? i'd kinda appreciate the words right now 🥺🤍 Hope this helps you in any way and if it did happen to you, much love from me also! Also, I am in no way an psychologist or an expert on what to in break-ups, because they simply suck, but I tried to do the best I can. I hope you like it

Words: 2328 *** “What’s with Y/N?” John asked out of the blue over dinner. Arthur looked up, mouth filled with potatoes, “What? Why?” “She doesn’t eat,” commented the brother who never ate himself. 

So Aunt Polly fixed him with a glare, “Must be a family thing…” “She never even touched her pie,” John continued, “She always eats pie.” “Finn?” Tommy asked, “Tell us what’s wrong with her, eh?” The youngest brother evaded his family’s looks and mumbled something along the lines of, “Why are you asking me?” “You know everything that goes on with Y/N,” Polly now shifted to the other brother and said in her characteristically low voice, “Spill.” “Remember that boy from down the road?” Finn started carefully. “There are lots of boys down the road…” “You mean the Irish kid, blonde, tall, went to school with Y/N?” Polly caught on quicker. 

Finn hesitated, “Yeah… well, Y/N’s been kind of seeing him?” “Arthur, John, you kill the Irish kid,” Tommy was already standing up, “I’ll deal with Y/N.” “Sit down, Tommy,” Ada sighed, “Finn isn’t finished yet, is he?” “How the bloody hell would you know?” Arthur questioned. “Because seeing an Irish kid won’t make Y/N go off her food,” their sister explained, “But breaking upwith an Irish kid will, right, Finn?” “Right…” Tommy sank back down into his chair and sighed deeply. “Should we still kill the Irish kid, Tommy?” John asked innocently. “Hang on, John boy,” his eldest brother stopped him, “I’m the oldest. I should talk to Y/N first.” “You really shouldn’t…” Polly mumbled. And when Arthur got up, nervous but certain at the same time, Ada quickly pushed him back down in his chair again. With this, a certain sibling rivalry awoke in the Shelby household. With Ada up the stairs, the brothers quickly followed and even Finn was hot on their tails. All except Polly, who knew none of this would actually help. And while you’d locked yourself in your room, planning to spend the evening on your own and feeling particularly sorry for yourself, the bursting in of five siblings didn’t exactly help. “Fucking hell,” Arthur said, as soon as he saw your tear-streaked face, his nostrils flaring in sudden rage. John looked more helpless than ever, mumbling, “Why are you crying over that bastard…” Tommy stayed back and lit a cigarette in de doorway. But Finn looked from you to Tommy and his face was getting redder by the second, until he finally hissed, “Can I do it now, Tommy?” “Go,” his brother gave him permission, “but take Isiah.” Only Ada responded directly to you, as she sat down next to you on the bed and pulled you into a warm embrace, “What’s happened, sweetheart, you can tell us, eh?” “He left me…” you mumbled into her hair. “That’s it, I’m going to bloody shoot his balls off!” “Arthur, calm down, Finn is taking care of it,” Tommy soothed, but it didn’t comfort you at all. Ada looked at her unhelpful brothers full of scorn and almost shouted, “Well, is anyone going to add something that might actually help Y/N? Because if not, kindly get the fuck out!” “What can we do?” John asked gently. But you just shrugged, still locked into Ada’s arms.

“Well, you’re the fucking oldest, right? Go on!” John urged Arthur on.

So Arthur started, with all the best intentions in the world, which was the only thing that could calm him in this very moment, “The thing is, we human beings are made up of different things…”

You send a look of uncertainty across the room towards Tommy, who returned your gesture with one lifted eyebrow that said: yeah, I have no idea either.

“Like, when we lose someone, it’s like your head, it’s out of balance. So you need to balance it out again.”

“Arthur,” John asked bluntly, “What the fuck are you on about?”

“Like when John here lost Martha! He had to learn to live without her and it took him a lot of time, also because he has fifty kids, but mainly because he had to balance his head out again. And that takes time!” Arthur got more enthusiastic in his speech with each sentence, “It’s a chemical thing, like… like with cocaine!”

“Cocaine?” you repeated, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, cocaine,” he looked nervously around the room filled with incredulous faces, “Cocaine brings you up, while whiskey brings you down, right? You need both. You understand? You need to find the balance.”

“Are you suggesting our baby sister does cocaine?” a harsh voice suddenly asked.

“No!” Arthur called out, “Fucking hell… I’m just saying, accept that it takes time, because the chemicals in your body need time to adjust and that takes a while…”

Deep down, you knew Arthur meant well. Hell, he even had a point in a way, but he wasn’t great at getting his point across.

So John tried, “When Martha died, I did grieve. And I had to rethink life without her, you know? And especially with four, that’s four, kids. It was like I had lost a part of me.”

“So how did you do it, John?” you asked, looking up at your brother.

“Honestly, I was drunk all the time.”

Tommy rolled his eyes almost audibly and sucked on his cigarette in the doorway.

So you fixed him with a stare, “What about you, Tommy? Any brilliant advice from you?”

“Nope,” he simply said.

And a sudden anger flared up in you, “None at all. So, you don’t even care, do you?”

Tommy stared at you for a few moments and then he turned to John, “Go out to the fields near the Black Patch, where the vardo is. Get a fire going. I’ll be there in an hour. Go on, John!”

Being emotional in front of your brothers was one thing, but feeling like they were ignoring you made everything even worse. As you felt the tears welling up again, you got so annoyed and mad at yourself that you needed to take the anger out on someone. So you turned to Thomas again, but before you could open your mouth, he’d turned around already and was making his way out the room.

Completely defeated, you slumped on your bed and seriously considered throwing yourself out the window.

“How do you feel,” a softer female voice asked and you realised you weren’t actually on your own.

So you frowned and tried to explain, “You know that feeling when you drop a glass of water and within seconds it splashes and then just…disappears?”

“Yeah,” Ada said gently.

“That’s how I feel.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Tell them?” you scoffed, “Well, you just saw how well they handled it…”

Ada nodded for a second, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how to,” you shook your head, “I have no idea what to do with myself now.”

So Ada sighed, lit a cigarette and gave it to you, “You’re not going to do anything, except listen to me now, alright?”

And you nodded meekly as your sister spoke.

“Polly is going to tell you this: fuck men. And in a way she’s right, but in others she isn’t. Men are a common nuisance and we would have no need for them if we didn’t like them so much, did we? In fact, I’m guessing you might even love this one?” Full of sisterly concern she stared at you.

As your head fell down and you started crying again, a loud bang sounded and John barged into the room once again.

“Oh shit, sorry Ada… Uhm…” he stood there, cap in hand and having no idea how to hold himself, “I just wanted to quickly give… Y/N, thought you might need this?”

Ada took the bottle of whiskey John had brought from his hands and started opening it up at once. Then she looked at her brother and demanded, “Don’t you have a fire to get to?”

Clumsily, he left the room quickly.

“They try,” your sister waved a disinterested hand.

And finally you spoke words that had burned in your throat for the last couple of hours now, “I did love him.”

“And that’s okay!” Ada urged, while rubbing you back softly, “That’s what happens and it’s fine. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not allowed to love someone or that you should be strong and independent all the time. You’re allowed to love and you’re even allowed to need someone, just like you’re allowed to grieve right now,” she opened the bottle and traded it with you for the cigarette, “and if you ever tell him I said this I’ll deny every word of it, but Arthur was right: it is a little like grieving over the death of someone. It fucking hurts, but it has to be done.”

“Okay, so what the fuck do I do now?”

“Well… you cry, which you’ve already done, good for you,” your practical sister continued, “Then you plan his funeral, which should be easy because I’m guessing Tommy is arranging that as we speak.”

You had to laugh; you couldn’t help yourself, even through the tears.

And Ada called out, “That’s it! And then you laugh.”

“So that’s today covered,” your smile faded a little, “What about tomorrow and the day after that?”

She took a large swig from the bottle and spoke while choking on it slightly, “Sweetheart, if I had all the answers I wouldn’t be a single mother right now, but it’s about learning to live with yourself. It’s about being alone and suddenly realising you’re no longer lonely.”

“Why though?” you almost whined, “What if I don’t want to be lonely? Maybe I could still get him back? We weren’t that bad…”

“Yes, you were.”

“Yes, we were,” you admitted, taking the bottle from her.

“Listen,” Ada took your hands in hers and locked eyes with you, “You deserve better. This doesn’t help you at all right now, but maybe it will in a few weeks time. You deserve a man who loves you, adores you and worships the ground you walk on, and at the very least you fucking deserve a man who stays. Now, you may not understand now, but a few weeks from now, you will love yourself again. It will all make sense then. Right now you need to let go and you need some distraction.”

“What if I want to be on my own?”

“To do what? Cry?” Ada could be horribly blunt.

So you frowned full of irritation, “Well, maybe I do.”

“You already did that. You need to be with someone you love. Doesn’t have to be me, but don’t go wallowing on your own too much. It doesn’t help.”

“Right, okay…”

So the two of you sat in silence for a long, drinking the whiskey and smoking. And while you didn’t speak, it was good. You’d always been a child that was drawn more to her brothers than her only sister, but right now, the sister proved invaluable. For the first time, it was like you felt the ground beneath your feet again. That solid feeling of family always there kept you sane and it made you just a little bit less lonely.

And then, just like that, Tommy was back. With a painfully direct way, very similar to Ada’s, he announced, “It’s ready. Come on.”

“What is?”

“Just bring his stuff,” Tommy said quickly, “whatever he gave you, and come with me.” He was already out the door when he called from the hallway, “And bring Ada too!”

So after a lot of complaining and ranting about brothers, the two of you left the stuffy bedroom and followed Thomas out the door. He hoisted the both of you in his car and drove out into the fields, above which the sun had already started to set.

Finally, he brought you to the fire, and explained, “We gypsies are used to a lot of pain, but we’re no good with it. It’s a bit like the darkness; we live in it, but it’s where the trouble is too. So, we light fires.”

“How’s the fire going to help?” you asked sarcastically.

“It’s not,” he said, “But sitting here with us might. You used to sleep outside whenever you felt trapped, thought maybe we could do it again.”

You nodded slowly. This didn’t sound like a bad plan at all, actually.

“What about his stuff?” you questioned, “You told me to bring it.”

“If you want, burn it. If not, keep it. For now.”

So you sat down by the fire and it awoke something old inside of you: something you had missed intensely.

“So is this the gypsy cure?” you asked Tommy, a small smirk playing about your lips.

“You can ask John in a minute. It’s what he did, after Martha.”

And suddenly you remembered, “That’s why he left for five days.”

“Am I expected to sleep here as well, out on the grass, all wet and dirty?” Ada asked sharply.

Tommy pointed at his older sister playfully, “Yes. Y/N gets to choose. You however do not. You’ve forgotten where you’re from, Ada.”

“I fucking haven’t,” she protested, “I remember these fields. We used to come here with mum, after the fairs.”

Your other three brothers joined you one by one and like second nature, they huddled around the fire and you weren’t sure if it was the fire or them that kept you warm. Until well into the night, they brought up stories about traveling, family and horses. You hardly spoke, but it was good to listen.

At one point you did whisper, “Maybe you were right, Tommy. Maybe this is the gypsy cure…”

“There’s no cure sweetheart, just patience. But you won’t be alone.”

“No?’ you asked vaguely.

“We’re here,” Arthur said.

“We’re your family,” John added quickly.

And Ada pulled you close to her once again, saying, “And we’re never leaving you.”

***

Masterlist

[katsukikitten]

Part 5

For once in your life, your eyes slowly open, only having been disturbed by warm morning sunlight. The soft comforter trapping your body heat and essentially you, as it pinned you to the soft mattress. You snuggle deeper into the sheets, breathing in the smell of clean linen and caramel.

Wait. Caramel?

With a jolt you jump from the bed, eyes wide as you look for the source of the scent. Patting down your jeans and shirt for at least one knife. You hardly remember what happened after dinner with his family. You remember booze, light conversation while feeling warm and floaty. Oh shit what was that passive that activated again? Rest assured?

"Info on rest assured." You grumble, voice soft from disuse. Your quirk happily pulls up a little informational box that you can see. Too sleepy to make the box private as it reads aloud to you.

"PASSIVE BUFF REST ASSURED. A newly unlocked buff that increases sleep quality and can only be activated around trusted individuals and safe places. Would you like a list?"

You stare at the question box with a flashing yes or no before you point with the tip of your knife to yes.

"Currently there is only one thing listed. Type : Individual Name: Bakugou Ka…."

"Oi." Someone calls from the front door of the apartment as you dismiss the information with a wave of your hand. He discards his boots at the door before making his way to his bedroom.

"You talking to yourself dumbass?" He says, blocking your only exit by leaning on the door jamb. He holds an iced coffee towards you, his eyes sharp as he adds.

"We need to talk about your file."

Crossing his arms you ignore his offer of iced appeasement, he sets it on the low dresser as you speak.

"It's not up for discussion."

"I'm your boss, I deserve to know."

"What you deserve to know is what's in that file. My whole life doesn't fit into a manila fucking folder. Quit asking questions."

"I'll ask what I want." He growls, "Because it's suspicious that you have this unbelievably complex quirk and yet I'm sure your top skills have nothing to do with stealing."

"If you're that concerned then ask the director of the program. I'm not the only secret 'reform'." You throw your hands into the air is exasperation

"He showed up dead shortly after you were inducted. Plus no one has any real record of what you've done. Not a single thing listed on what you've stolen."

"Talk to Deku then, he's next in line for that program, he ain't dead."

"He said he doesn't remember approving your file." He bites back and before you can retort strong fingers wrap around your wrist. His calloused pads brush over the cool metal of your bracelet.

"RECOGNIZED, BAKUGOU KATSUKI : NEW LIMITED ACCESS GRANTED. 1. Health and Condition status, upon request 2. Top five skills 3. Buffs that would benefit Bakugou Katuski. 4. Pending buffs to be activated by host. Please state a number."

"Two." "Cancel!" You try to shout over him but he beats you to it. The bracelet opens up a little box displaying your top five skills as of late.

"Stab resistance, poison resistance, what would a thief need those for? Stealth is number three and slight of hand is number five. Shit don't add up Princess." He glares while your nostrils flare, ripping your wrist away from his grip.

"You're really fucking pushing it…" He takes a step towards you while you step back as if it were part of a dance as you try so hard to keep your wrath in check.

"Am I? Like I said, shit ain't adding up. You have this bracelet that still has limited information to your quirk, support knows nothing of the recordings or god damn blocks you've placed on it and lastly…" Your knees hit the back of the back of the bed causing you to sit on the mattress. His rough palms come to lie flat against the fabric next to your thighs as he leans in. You fight to shrink back.

"Lastly, I deserve to know how an unnamed woman, who obviously knew you, turns up dead moments after I arrive on scene and then her body is gone in a matter of minutes. She poisoned you with a complex concoction that the lab in the agency has yet to figure out the formula to it and yet you knew the fucking antidote? What did you really do?"

Rage boils in your blood as you stare into his vermilion eyes. Like flipping a switch you turn ice cold, your breath mingles with his.

PASSIVE BUFF SHARP TONGUE ACTIVATED INSULTS DEALT WILL HAVE 39% MORE STING.

"You know what's funny? You don't see me asking how you became a manager with your shitty attitude. Nor do you see me asking how you manipulated and gaslit your way to the number one spot." You press your cheek against his as your lips graze his ear, "And you sure as hell don't see me asking how you're considered a hero at all after you told Izuku to kill himself in middle school."

The scars in his chest and stomach roar to life, demanding attention as his shirt scrapes against the sensitive skin. He takes a step back as if struck while the room begins to smell of smokey spiced caramel. His bones groan as his knuckles bloom white.

You smile as you stand, collecting your bag and the jacket he lent. Even grabbing the iced coffee he got you. Because why let it go to waste?

Cruelty slips onto your shoulders as nicely as his borrowed jacket while you pause at his bedroom door wanting nothing more than to leave him with terrible thoughts.

"Did you ever even apologize for that?"

Silence is your answer as you chuckle to yourself.

"Didn't think so."

You leave him with those nasty thoughts. Long gone as he still pants, pain shooting through his gut and lungs as it did all those fucking years ago.

As he moved without a second thought and placed himself in front of a stupid, dopey mop top boy who tried to hold up the weight of the world by himself.

With a guttural growl he looks over his destroyed room, as if a bomb went off.

He reaches for his phone dialing the number he never bothered to save.

"Meet me at our usual when you get off your stupid fucking shift. I know you've forgotten to eat you useless hero." The other line chimes in with a deep laugh as he adds.

"Okay Kaachan. I'll be there."

Izuku doesn't get invited out often and especially not by Bakugou. So the emerald haired boy decides to keep an eye on his oldest friend. Silently watching and not glancing too long as hot head huffs and puffs, taking another shot. The ash blonde's favorite spicy ramen goes untouched as the large man across from him slurps up his fourth bowl, covered in sweat and dirt from the day's work.

"You better get my fucking money's worth of this endless ramen bowl shit." He bites, slamming down another shot, fingers subconsciously finding the old scar on his chest. The action does not go unnoticed by his more docile friend. Izuku thanks the waiter as he starts on his fifth bowl.

"I'm starting to think you're mad about more than the endless ramen you ordered me." Bright emerald meet dark garnet eyes that glare, Bakugou's cheeks burn in his buzz.

"Fuck you. Nothin's wrong." Another deadly shot.

"That's your seventh. Kaachan you can't fool me. Your body language gives it away." Bakugou follows Izuku's eyes to his fingers. Quickly he removes his calloused pads from the divot. Angrily staring at the wall like a child who's been caught.

"Fuck you." He murmurs, silence settles over the pair in the far back corner of the restaurant. Bakugou's eyes glance over to Izuku who continues to eat, crimson bore into the scars on his arms from where the dumbass had broken them time and time again. His scars burn with your words, with the memory of what he's said in the past.

Too cruel and for what?

"You know I'm-" Bakugou starts but Izuku holds up a hand, wanting to spare his friend.

"I know, you've shown me everyday, even before you jumped in front of me, Kaachan. I've always known." He leaves it at that, in his heart he knows that Bakugou is sorry. He's seen it in every action since their first year at UA, he doesn't need to hear him say it.

What good are words when actions spoke louder?

"So what's bothering you? Worried over someone? You're dating Rogue now right?" Izuku asks, holding his chopsticks at a point while Bakugou takes another shot.

"Her file is what's bothering me. Deku, she doesn't have a fucking thing of her past. Not to mention you don't even remember signing off on her. Real responsible." Bakugou watches with a dull snarl as Izuku goes back to slurping his noodles.

"Ka...Kaachan." Izuku chokes, "Not fair. They put a lot of your desk too and I bet you don't remember half of it."

"I'd remember something like that. Just makes it that much more suspicious. Probably foraged by someone but the question is who…." Katsuki sets his head in his hand, staring at his orange broth.

"Well, did you ask her yourself?" Bakugou scoffs in response.

"Yea, and it didn't fucking turn out well." His finger finds his stomach this time, the ghastly white crater suddenly irritated by the fabric of his shirt. Izuku stops eating, he isn't stupid and easily connects the dots. The soft man thinks back a decade of his friend is the worst condition but more worried about him.

"Kaachan…" Deep jade eyes water a bit but Bakugou puts up a hand

"Don't." He barks, sighing.

"So you must really care about her if whatever she said affected you that much. You weren't even bothered when they were trying to 'cancel' you." Izuku taps Bakugou's bowl with his chopsticks, silently begging the blonde to eat. Hopping he'll take at least a bite to soak up some of that alcohol. Reluctantly deadly fingers pick up the sticks, gathering ramen between them but still undecided if he should eat.

His silence is answer enough for Izuku.

"I know my agency started the program. I'll look into it some more tomorrow. I'll be mostly office duty since I have so much paperwork anyway. But even if her past is dark Katsuki, what are you going to do? She may not have had any say in the matter, she doesn't give me that evil vibe."

Bakugou thinks back to you. How you fight, how you hold yourself.

How cute you were sleeping on his shoulder before he eased you onto his lap. How softly you snored in his bed. His stomach twists, Izuku's words and yours floating around his head.

"I guess I'll decide once I have more answers." With that the blonde decides to bring the spicy noodles to his lips.

[minachuuu]

The Voice That Keeps Following Me

❣The Voice That Keeps Following Me❣

The sequel for Voices I Can’t Run Away From is finally here. I chose to make it a sequel and not a 2-part story, because I wrote the first one thinking of it as a stand-alone story, but I was requested a second part and I really like how it turned out! Hope you enjoy it too!

❤ AU: DreamCatcher (Fem!) 8th Member

❤ Genre: Angst

❤ Word Count: 6.8k

❤ Song Suggestions: Scream by DreamCatcher and Fight Inside by Red

⚠ TW : Harassment, blood and guns.

Day 134

Look at my family. 

My mind sometimes likes to play and pretends to be a camera, it goes through life slowing moments down around me, allowing me to bask in the emotions that they gift me. And then it stores them, there in my fondest memories. I have a lot of them to choose from when my thoughts get dark, the light they emanate is enough to shut the whispers in my mind. 

The warm embrace of my members is one that comes very often, but it was that night around four months ago that I first felt like someone really loved me. But do they really? And I try not to look back from that. Or do I?

The sun was high in the sky, a warm and welcoming spotlight that followed us through your late winter promotions, the chilly winds still rattled the thin hair in your forearms, but there was no more snow falling from the sky. The windows in the van didn’t fog like before and you could watch little flowers sprout all over the city as spring felt closer and closer.

Your favorite song was blasting through your right earpod, while the other ear enjoyed the background noise of Yoohyeon and Bora bickering in the seats in front of you. Yubin sat by your side, ignoring all reality happening before her while playing a game on her phone.

A light chuckle escaped your lips when you caught a glimpse of SuA tossing what could have been a sock to Yoohyeon, hitting her straight in the face. The latter just turned around, dumbfounded as Bora’s sudden laugh even managed to make Yubin raise her view to her. She then turned her head towards you, her eyes asking for an explanation. You didn’t play attention to the reason why, so you could only offer her back an affiliative smile and a shrug. It seemed to be enough for her, since these two always going at each other every single day was a good source of entertainment.

Your eyes travelled outside, discovering that you were already at your destiny. The fansign venue was already surrounded by a long line of eager fans waiting for you, and as soon one spotted the van, they all turned around to wave at you. Except for one guy that stood out for you from the others for not matching the excitement around him. All dressed in black, the hoodie covering up half of his face.

They’re still here, and they won’t go until you go down with them.

A sudden chill went down your spine, just as every time that you had to encounter an audience face to face, but shaking your head, you were quick to shut it down as the rest of the fans excited smiles and screams muffled behind the window drew a smile on your face, one that you didn’t get that often.

The car stopped it’s movement just behind the venue and the door opened, letting all unfiltered light into your eyes. Yoohyeon and Bora got out of the van and then the manager helped you and Yubin out too. As soon as your feet touched the ground, you felt an arm intertwined with yours, pulling you closer.

“Y/n!” Bora’s voice boomed as you identified her by your side. “If… Let’s say, you hypothetically had a favorite Unnie, who would that be?”

You stared at her trying to analyse what the best answer to that question could be, you loved all your members equally, but something in her voice told you that the question had a tricky part that she wasn’t telling you about. 

Your suspicions were confirmed when you raised your view, Yoohyeon shaking her head at the scene before her.

“It’s probably Handong-unnie.” You answered nonchalantly. 

“Y/n-yah!” Bora let go and slapped your arm playfully, pouting her lips. “You were supposed to say me! Alright then. Yubin!-”

“Mine’s Minji.” She answered without letting the older even breathe. 

“Ah!” Bora whined, cutely hoping in her place. “Why am I no one’s favorite?! That’s not fair!”

“Maybe because you jump in my bed when I’m trying to sleep?” Yoohyeon added.

“Or because you belt in my ear to scare me when I try to read?” Yubin scoffed.

“Or…” You thought of something to add, but Bora hadn’t been anything but loving to you most of the time. Yes, her way of showing love was sometimes super clingy and loud but, you loved her that way, so you couldn’t really come with a better excuse. “Or maybe because you’re just not Dongie-Unnie.”

She deadpanned towards you, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“At this rate I’ll never win the bet against Minji,” She sighed. She turned around, just when the other van was pulling up behind yours. Her eyes lit up, as she ran towards it. “Gahyeon-ah!!”

The three of you laughed out loud, shaking your heads at the occurrences of your older member. You walked towards the entrance of the building together, your laugh still dying down when you heard Gahyeon mumble in the distance followed by Bora’s loud whine.

“I hope Minji gives us our part of whatever she bet against her,” Yoohyeon chuckled, holding the door open as you entered the building.

We walked towards a large room with some couches and chairs, a table full of snacks and a wall entirely made of mirrors. Even decorated with some of your comeback posters on the other walls.

You walked towards the table, scanning carefully the snack offerings over it. Amongst some chocolate bars, caramels and beverages, you grabbed a bag of chips to snack as you waited to go outside.

“Good news everyone!” Minji entered the room with her arms wide open, a huge grin on her face. “Today’s dinner is on Bora!”

The seven of you cheered loudly as the latter just pouted, her arms still crossed and her eyebrows furrowed and plunged into a couch near you. You decided to come approach her, taking the seat besides her. You snacked on your bag of chips silently when you decided to turn to Bora and offer her some, she accepted them as she grumbled under her breath. The sight made you chuckle, seeing the most enthusiast member of your group all moody over a bet, but as the seconds passed, you started missing her energetic spirit.

“Unnie…” You leaned over to her, sweetening your voice. “If you buy tteokbokki, I promise you’ll become my favorite.”

She snapped her head towards you,her eyes squinting with suspicion and temptation to your offer. You smiled at her in the most innocent way that you could, bringing out your puppy eyes which you knew she couldn’t resist.

“Ah fine,” She cupped your cheeks with her hands, pinching your cheeks. The sudden gesture that prompted you to drop your mask, trying hard to get off her grip. “Just because you are my favorite maknae, even if you broke my heart in a million pieces. Just don’t tell the others.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Your voice muffled by the pressure that her hands were applying to your cheeks. You raised your hand, painting at her hands over your face “Can you… let go?”

“Never.” She released your face, but you didn’t get to savor freedom for long since she wrapped her body around yours, cuddling into you.

A sudden blush invaded your cheeks, softening your pride. You let yourself cuddle into Bora, while a smile kept growing in your face. 

And then, time slowed down as you let your eyes wander through the space. Minji and Siyeon are laughing in the corner, the white walls reflecting in the sparks in their eyes. Gahyeon and Yoohyeon bickering around Handong, but the oldest of them just smirked at the probably childish discussion they had going on. Yubin was silently existing by my side on the couch, reading what seemed like her hundredth book in the month. You still didn’t know how she managed to do it with all the activities of the comeback. And then there was Bora, cuddled in her arms, making you feel like you were protected from everything in the world.

You sighed, savoring the emotions in the moment, your heart warming up at the sight of the best family that the world was able to give you ever.

But, are you really sure that you deserve all of this? After all you made them go through?

Thankfully, the voice in your mind was broken when a manager opened the door, calling everyone out to the stage to start the fansign.

You stood up from the couch, as you felt your body shaking nervously. This being your first fansign since the last comeback, and the “incident”. That’s how you and the members preferred calling it without inviting back unwanted feelings and memories.

They were quick to notice your nerves and approach to surround you in that familiar and safety blanket that they were all so used to being part of. Shanking your head, you released a shaky breath out of your lips and nodded, the girls taking the sign to move forward.

You could hear the deafening cheers of Insomnias from the other side of the hallway, as your heart ramped up it’s speed. Unsure if that was nerves or excitement, you wrapped the first hand that you could, that being Siyeon’s. 

“Hey,” She turned around, offering you a conforming smile. “We’ve got your back, you’ll be okay Y/n.”

You nodded, leaning into her shoulder as you kept walking towards the main stage where your fans were already waiting for you. The door to the stage opened, making the shouts from Insomnia even louder. Your table with eight chairs and a bottle of water was already waiting for you too. The staff handed you each one microphone as you crossed the door.

The bright lights of the auditorium blinded you as you made your way into the stage, cheers cramming your ears. It took a few seconds for your senses to get used to all the sudden stimulation, but once they did, you were greeted with your fans waving and smiling at you.

You smiled back at them, offering them finger hearts and flying kisses. The clics from the fansites cameras refuse to cease, as you greeted your few acquaintances that sat between the audience. But as your eyes scanned around, you landed on that same man that you spot outside. With his hoodie still over his face, he wasn’t jumping up and down or smiling like the rest of the people around him. All you could see was a faint smirk in the shadow, as he slowly clapped to match the rest of the people. 

“Let’s introduce ourselves!” You heard Minji clap to get the attention of the group, and you quickly stood in a straight line facing your audience. “One, two-”

“Dream of me! Hello, we are Dreamcatcher!” All of you chorused together, pumping up your fans even more. Each one of them introduced themselves, one after the other. Gahyeon was last, and everyone remained silent.

“Hello! It’s Y/n!” You cheered through your microphone. The audience exploded louder than before. Even hearing some ‘We’ve missed you!’ and other ‘Insomnia loves you!’. You turned to your members, to find them all grinning widely at you, which made you blush intensely. 

But then again, your eyes had to land on that one unenergetic guy in the audience, still with the same grin and slowly clapping in his seat. 

Maybe they didn’t really miss you, maybe the group was better when you were gone.

You shook your head, trying to get the thought out of your head. But it kept nagging in there. Trying to talk, your lips parted as words got up your throat but never past your lips. You didn’t realize how shaky your hand was until you felt Yoohyeon’s trying to get a grip of it.

Closing your eyes and letting her hand embrace yours, you took a deep breath, and finally the last thought got foggy enough to let you talk.

“It’s good to see you all again!” You stammered through the microphone, earning the cheers of the room, even your members.

After some light chat between everyone sat at their places as the staff helped Insomias line up, they eagerly smiled, excited as they waited for their turn to go up and talk to all of you. Minji, who sat by your side, placed her hand over yours and only her glance and smile was enough to make you feel safe. 

Each one of the fans that talked to you beamed with light and joy, filling your table with so many gifts and letters that you wished you could give them back something more than just your signature. 

A cute, young little girl came hopping to your place holding her album in hand, carrying a very particular gift with her. A bag of chips that you hadn’t eaten since… since the day you returned home after the incident. After saying hello and quickly signing the album, she rushed into conversation with you, something you didn’t mind cause you were extremely curious about her gift.

“My grandpa remembered that you liked this type of chips,” The girl extended the gift to you, taking them with delivered surprise as your eyes scanned them. “He wanted me to tell you that he hopes you’re doing good and that he’s proud of you!”

“Wait, how did he know it was me?” You chuckled, apparently being grubby, behind a bucket hat, a baggy sweatshirt and lowering your voice was not enough to hide yourself.

“He says it was intuition. Or maybe just your voice.” The girl giggled nervously. “But when he came home that night, he told me that everything was going to be okay, that you were alright. I trust him.”

“He did help me a lot that day, your grandpa is a great man.” Your talking minute was running out, so you reached across the table and put your hands on her, offering her a warm smile. “Always be kind to everyone, who knows where I would be right now if it wasn’t for the kindness of your grandpa.”

“I will always be Unnie!” The girl squealed in happiness as she moved to the next seat to talk with Minji.

“Say hi to him!” You added last minute and she nodded before turning to take care of the fan now in front of you.

More and more gifts started milling up around you, even flower bouquets adorned your surroundings and the rest of DreamCatcher, the managers walking around and taking some of them away from you to store backstage so the entire table wouldn’t end up engulfed in gifts.

You were so into the fansign, talking to all your lovely Insomnias, that you didn’t notice beforehand about the one thing that unnerved you. Turning around to face the fan in front of you, there he stood, the ominous hooded guy. 

You tried greeting him with the same enthusiasm as the rest of your fans, but you were taken aback when instead of the usual cheery and giggle response, he just muttered a nonchalant ‘hi’ back at you.

You took his album, searching for the note with your name on it to know exactly where to sign. Finding it, you flicked to that page, but a cold chill traveled down your spine when you opened it.

Your pictures were scratched, painted and splattered over in a dark, thick, red tint. And over it, scribed in big black letters over everything, it read: 

‘DreamCatcher will always be 7’

Told you

“Wha-?”

You heard a clock that snapped your head up. Facing a gun pointed straight at you.

They’re going down and taking you down with them. One last time.

And then time stopped. A cold drop of sweat travelled down your spine, as a knot tightened in your throat. Your eyes wandered around, a hundred smiles completely oblivious to the sight right in front of you. All that was left was to close your eyes, hoping everything to be quick and painless.

“Y/N!” 

You heard your name be screamed just before a loud bang, returning you to this existential plane. But when your eyes shot open, you found yourself hitting the floor with your shoulder. 

A cacophony of screams and people in plain panic ensued, the hooded man was tackled into the ground, and people ran left and right unsure on where to run away.

You tried getting up to get a better view of everything happening on the other side of the table, but a sharp burning bolt of pain travelling your body all the way from your shoulder pinned you down in your place. You turned to it, your entire sleeve covered in a red, thick and warm liquid. Your arm limped, only hanging from your increased numbing shoulder. The tingle in the tip of your fingers increased and travelled through your palm as you stared in horror, as the puddle of blood extended through all your outfit.

“We need an ambulance!” You heard one of your managers shout from one side of the venue, as the noise in the auditorium got more and more muffled to your ears.

“Y/N!” Minji’s shadow covered the light above you as she approached, her heavy breathing and shaky voice calling your name over and over under her breath as she kneeled by your side. “Gosh, no, no”

“What’s going on?” You cried, barely any noise coming out of your mouth. Using your remaining strength, you reached with your hand towards your members, who urgently surrounded you. Along with other managers who moved fast around you, discussing stuff that you weren't able to hear anymore.

“We need to stop the bleeding, NOW!” Yubin commanded, looking around the place for something to surround your injury tightly around, Siyeon and Handong following closely behind her.

“Please don’t leave me,” As your eyes flooded with tears, you somehow managed to crawl into Minji’s lap, “Please.”

“Never, Y/n-” Her eyes full of tears as well, hold you close, not minding getting stained by the red liquid that surrounded you by now.

Painfully, you turned your head to watch around. Gahyeon and Bora were bawling their eyes out between each other's eyes, Yoohyeon kneeling beside Minji in an effort of calming down both of them.

“Here!” Handong came back with a large piece of cloth, quickly kneeling besides you and fasting it up tightly around your arm and shoulder with the help of Siyeon and Yubin. Minji was refusing to drop her hold on you.

“Unnie, I’m so sorry” Your throat stinged at the words, dried up of the tears that came non stop through your eyes. “I’m so sorry about everything.”

Your vision started fogging up, as you barely heard a siren outside, followed by the main door being pushed open, and voices of various people approaching. Fighting to keep your eyes, you wrapped one of your member's clothes with the remaining strength left in your body.

“Stay with us, please.” Siyeon’s voice was distant, but your eyes caught her lips moving as the words entered your brain. “Stay.”

But you couldn’t stop fighting against the weight of your eyelids. The noise surrounding you shut up completely, and the shadows that surrounded you were swallowed by complete darkness.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Day 135

I know they’re here. I can hear them sometimes, but they can’t hear me. How much time do you think they’ll keep up with you? Please don’t leave me. Please. 

Bora’s fingers traveled up and down your static hand with a gentleness that could put anyone to sleep. But this time it was the other way around. Surrounded by tubes full of unknown liquid flowing into your body, metal structures that seemed to keep the room’s gray walls from falling apart and the rattling but thankfully constant beeping of your heart monitor, everything she wished was for you to wake up.

Handong lay asleep across the couch on the other side of the bed, with only a weighted blanket covering her body from the chilly air circling the room, her head resting on the also asleep Yoohyeon who covered herself with around three thick jackets. The three of them volunteered to take the night watch in the hospital, replacing Minji and Yubin who refused to leave the hospital as you were received in the emergency room and stood by your side for the entirety of the first day. The managers insisted all of them to stay back at their dorm, but were quickly cut off by every girl, standing their ground on never letting you go again.

The first rays of sun peeked through the shades over the window, bringing a dim but warm light into the room with them. Bora’s tired eyes raised to watch the faint silhouette of the sunset through them. A knock on the door made her snap her head towards it, waking up the other two girls in the process.

“Come in?” Handong groggily whispered while standing up straight on the couch, rubbing her eyes.

The heavy door opened, revealing the other four members' tired faces behind it.

“How was your night?” Minji entered the room, hands deep in her pockets as she approached the feet of the bed, staring up and down at your weakened body laying before her. “Did you get some rest?”

The three girls already in the room shook their heads in unison, with Yoohyeon even burying her face between her hands.

“I never thought that a place so silent could be so…” She whispered, her eyes wandering all over the room, unfocused. “Restless.”

“There wasn’t much sleep at the dorm either.” Gahyeon added, sitting besides Bora as she carefully took a strand of hair away from your seemingly sleeping face. 

“We brought you some coffee…” Siyeon handed their drinks to Yoohyeon, Handong and Bora before sitting in a chair on the other corner of the room. “I hope it at least helps you stay awake”

“Any news?” Yubin closed the door behind her, laying against the wall. Crossing her arms as she scanned the room with her eyes.

“Well,” Bora stretched her arms, standing up from her chair as she kept stretching her entire body in the process. “The doctor said that everything is stable, all vital organs are okay and that Y/n will only need some rehabilitation in her arm and shoulder. So, she’ll be fine.”

Everyone let out a deep sigh of relief, as Gahyeon leaned down to leave a kiss on your temple, a fair smile crossing her lips.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t protect you enough.” Gahyeon whispered to you as she rested her head over her hands on the edge of the bed.

“But it shouldn’t be our responsibility to have to go around being careful and trying not to get killed,” Yubin scoffed as she paraded around the room. “That’s just sick.”

“I’m glad they caught that bastard.” Siyeon snapped. “And I hope he rots in the deepest rings of hell that disgusting son of a-”

“Siyeon, the kids!” Minji covered Gahyeon’s ears as she covered yours. Her expression softened for a second, twisting her lips in agreement. “But you do raise a very valid point.”

Minji let Gahyeon’s ears go slowly and cautiously, in case any of the older girls decided lo let their dirty tongue roam free again.

“But what I still don’t understand,” Yoohyeon rested her head over her knuckles, as she leaned forward over the edge of the couch. “How can there be people who still don’t want her in the group?”

“We will never make everyone happy,” Handong responded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there was someone out there who still thinks you should have stayed with the Minx concept.”

The audible groans of Yoohyeon, Minji, Bora, Siyeon and Yubin filled the entire room, facepalms, shrinked shoulders, rolled eyes, their mouths hissing and lips twisting in a physically painful display of a cringy memory flooding their minds. The image encouraged a chuckle out of Gahyeon and Handong, who enjoyed teasing the others with their past.

“While I understood your point perfectly,” Yubin's unimpressed muffled voice stuttered. “there was absolutely no need to take it that far, thank you.”

“But she’s right,” Siyeon pointed out. “There’s people who don’t agree with us, but we now know there’s more people that actually like Y/n a lot! And, if she still wants to be in the group with us after all this, whoever doesn’t agree can walk through the door and never come back.”

“If she wants to be in the group?” Gahyeon glanced back at Siyeon, perplexed.

“Y/n’s been through a lot already,” Bora added. “Even though we love her, we wouldn’t force her to stay if she doesn’t want to.”

“And if she wants to go back home,” Siyeon continued. “We’ll respect her decision too.”

The atmosphere around the room got tense. Everyone understood and agreed perfectly, but it didn’t mean that they wouldn’t miss you if you decided to leave the group.

“Do you know when her family will come? The manager told us they were trying to contact them.” Yoohyeon asked the other girls, trying to break the awkward silence. “Maybe we’ll finally get to meet them”

“They won’t be coming.” Minji shook her head, resting her hands on the footboard of the bed.

“Are they foreigners or something?” Handong leaned her head, curious at the leader’s response. “We could help them fly here if they want to-”

“No, yesterday the managers finally told me the reason Y/n never really talks about her family, and I think it’s time all of you know.” She sighed, raising her head and placing herself somewhere where everyone could see and hear her clearly. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes to focus. “Y/n doesn’t really know her family.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t know her family?” Siyeon eyebrows furrowed, trying to understand the oldest’s words. 

“According to what I was told yesterday, she knows she had a family. But ever since she was a little child she had been jumping from foster home to foster home, until she became a trainee later.” Minji nodded, her lips forming a straight line as she got immersed in her own thoughts. Shaking them aside when she felt the pressure of the silence and the looks of the girls over her, she continued talking. “The staff was the one taking care of her after that and up until she debuted with us.”

“So, it’s almost as she doesn’t have a family.” Gahyeon trembled.

The stillness in the air became even more heavy over everyone’s shoulders now that it dawned on them the reality of the situation. 

The sun now fully out of the horizon peaked through the window, illuminating the room with its warmth and hopeful brightness. Almost like a sign from the universe, a ray of light rested amicable over your peaceful, sleeping face.

Bora placed her hand over yours, caressing it gently with her thumb. After a few minutes of slumberous and wary silence, like a spotlight calling to her to raise her eyes, she scanned around the room, a delicate smile making its way to her lips as she came to a realization. 

“Y/n does have a family.” Bora whispered, making all the girls raise their faces in confusion. One by one, as they locked their eyes with the other girls understood exactly what Bora was talking about, bringing kind grins into their faces.

As some happy tears started escaping some of the girls eyes, it dawned on them all your adventures together. All the hard and the pretty times, how everyone loved each other and accepted their highs and their lows. How every single one of them understood perfectly that blood is not what makes a family, but the unconditional love and support that all parts have for each other. Whatever you had going on in between, that was a family.

“She has us.” Yoohyeon nodded, posing her sight on your resting body. 

Swallowed sobs reigned the air until a soft hum stood out. Like a ritual that you all had together now, Yubin’s gentle singing filled the air, the other girls recognizing the song immediately. Your song. One by one the other girls joined her, harmoniously swelling their surroundings with a much needed drop of hope for their soul. As the song continued, each one of them cuddled towards each other, seeking the warmth and comfort of their arms. A silent promise to deliver this and so much more to you for the rest of your lives.

The song was arriving to their end, as silence once again reigned the room when a sigh from the leader broke through. 

“We’ll be here for Y/n, all the time she wants us to be by her side.” Minji flicked away a tear from her eye, nodding at her beautiful family around her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Day 136

I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere. As long as you live I’ll always be right behind you. I have so much left to give, just let me prove it.

A black canvas, covered in bright, sparkling freckles swallowed the sky, the horizon and the floor beneath you. The plain sound of your shaky breath echoed into eternity in every direction as you watched your feet walking on air. One step, two steps. Covered in a fair white robe, you felt the breeze dancing around you, but your skin didn’t perceive any cold from it, instead being embraced in a warm coating, from head to toe. Three steps, four steps. The stars around you didn’t seem to come closer or any farther as you kept advancing, but they all seemed to beat together at a constant beeping rhythm. Five steps. 

A pair of bare feet met yours in a perfect reflection, and as you slowly raised your eyes. Whoever was standing right in front of you was wearing the exact same white robe as you, moved their hands the same way, breathed the same way… looked the same. 

Standing right in front of a perfect reflection of yourself, you raised your hand towards your shoulder, pulling down the gown from it. Your reflection followed precisely, revealing your clean and well skin under. A relieved breath escaped your lips a little too soon, as quickly, a dark spot surged under your reflection's hand, spreading all over it’s arm, hand and chest. 

You leaped behind startled but your reflection didn’t follow through, instead, it started stomping towards you, as the darkness climbed all the way to it’s face. Your hand frantically searched for your shoulder, but there was nothing over yours.

“Who are you!?” You pleaded, running backwards to keep your distance with the impostor.

“Don’t you recognize me Y/n?” Your reflection's voice gritted through the air as a crooked smile was painted in it’s lips. “It’s me, the real you.”

“No, no you are not.” You gasped back, with a hit of doubt that didn’t go unnoticed by the entity in front of you.

“You see? Not even you know who you are.” The reflection reached it’s completely darkened hand towards you, inviting you closer. “Then what makes you think I can’t be you?”

“I-” You stuttered, the never ending starry void where you kept running away also allowed this creature to stay mere inches away from you, no matter how much you seemed to pull yourself far away from it. “Please go away.”

“You know I never will,” It tilted it’s head, sneering back. “Everyone around you has never loved you enough to stay, but I’ll be the only one faithfull by your side forever.”

It didn’t have to hit so low, but there was this little spark burning inside you that kept you up on your feet to keep running, to keep fighting. Through the sting in your eyes, you watched the stars start beeping at a faster rate, ready to try one more time.

“They haven’t left me yet,” You fired back. Your reflection glitched it’s presence before letting out an evil chuckle that echoed through the void.

“But you already know they will!” It scoffed, halting its steps. “Then why wait for it to hurt even more?”

“Because they waited for me.”

All signs of fun were erased from your reflection's face, letting you breath out for a second. But a disgusted smirk plastered across its face as it turned itself into someone else. The wide and gentle smile, her arms that always welcomed you in and her brown eyes that always made you feel safe.

“Minji Unnie?...” You gasped.

“And once again, you come in and ruin absolutely everything for us.” The voice was on point, making you trip over your feet and fall down in surprise. “It would have been best if you d-”

“I heard her! She said my name!” Minji’s voice bounced around, but not coming from the bizarre Minji standing in front of you. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

The creature before you took your form again, it’s breath angrily rising. It quickly shapeshifted to another form. 

“We don’t want you back!” It panted now as Bora, shouting to make its voice be heard over the accelerating heartbeat. “We don’t-”

“It’s okay, it’s all a dream!” Now it was Bora’s voice responding from beyond what your eyes could see. You saw your hand light up, warming up as if another hand graced on top of yours. “Everything’s gonna be okay. We’re here.”

The stars around you finally started getting closer, to both of you. The light engulfing both you and your reflection. It felt warm and gentle on your skin, but you couldn’t say the same thing for the other you in that place. 

Loud screeches of pain as it battled against the bright light touching it’s skin, shrinking against itself in its own place. You felt your feet floating, like a certain force pulling you up from the starry sky. You felt a cold hand grab you from the hem of your gown, as it’s colorless eyes searched painfully for yours.

“YOU’LL NEVER GET RID OF ME!” Your bizarre reflection snapped back at you in desperation, almost like a cry for help.

“Maybe,” You looked back at it, and just for a second, it’s eyes mirrored your human color instead of being a black, empty void. “But I’ll never stop trying.”

The bright light of the room filled your view, as your eyes snapped open. Trying urgently to adjust to the new light, your eyes blinked and scanned from side to side, as the blurriness slowly dissipated. A flash of pain escurried from your shoulder all the way up your chest, arm and head, as you looked down to a freshly closed wound, a gauze tenderly placed above your stitches. 

You looked at the shadows hovering above you, dazzled by the ceiling’s light once again when you turned your eyes up to one side. Two unknown faces, dressed up with scrubs were hurriedly taking your vitals, alternating the view between the monitors and you. Moving your eyes upward and to the other side, there they were. 

Bora rested her head on the edge, caressing your hand with her thumb, looking it you with the brightest eyes you had ever seen, and hovering just above her, Minji, flicking off a stray tear away from her face and Dami, a glowing smile adorning her face, one that cutely wrinkled her eyes as her eyes refused to leave you.

“You’re finally back.” Minji whispered as her tender grin grew up across her face. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Bora tenderly caressed your cheek as her own eyes filled with tears unwilling to drop. With the strength available in your body, you offered back a smile that immediately broke her. 

“We couldn’t bear the idea of losing you again,” She cried, clinging to your hand. “We missed you so much.”

“I’m not going anywhere Unnie, that’s a promise.” You mumbled back. 

“Precisely young lady, you are not allowed to go anywhere yet. At least until tomorrow” One of the nurses added, making all of us chuckle and lightening up the aura in the room. “Your vitals are running as they should and your recovery seems to be advancing correctly, you’ll be staying just one more day here.”

All the room cheered at the good news, relieved. You raised the bed to sit up and chat with the girls about everything that had been happening throughout the days, how the bastard that shot you was convicted and dealt with, with no mercy. They told you about how all the industry took steps to ensure the safety of the idols thanks to this incident, fundraisers in your name against gun violence and regulations, and they way the world looked at this with their own eyes.

“Here, take a look at this,” Dami handed you her phone, a playful smile as she did. “Would be better to focus on the good.”

“Wow…” You scrolled down an infinite stream of positive and supportive messages from Somnias all over the world. Outpouring love and comfort on every social media, erasing any doubt in your mind on how the people received you. “I didn’t think they would like me that much.”

“We had the same feeling when we debuted as DreamCatcher too.” Minji added, recalling her memory. “But at the end, the ones that really love you are the ones who stick around.”

“And the ones who don’t can shove their opinions up their-”

“Bora!” Minji covered your ears quickly, as she snapped her eyes towards the other girl.

You chuckled at the image, with Dami a few steps behind trying to keep her laugh too. But the moment was interrupted quickly by a knock on the door, followed by a nurse peeking her head inside.

“Sorry for interrupting,” She excused herself, “Your family came to see you!” 

“But I don’t have a fam-” 

“I’m not shutting you up the way I would like just because you’re still healing,” Siyeon’s voice accompanied her silhouette as she entered the room, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Followed by Handong, Yoohyeon and Gahyeon, each one carrying a present in their hands. “But as your official big sister, I’ll patiently wait until that arm works again to do it so.”

The remark made you giggle as you glanced at the girls and the radiant auras they carried with them. Now surrounded by an endless supply of snacks, courtesy of Yoohyeon and Handong, the sweet smell of fresh flowers by Siyeon and a new fluffy friend to hug by Gahyeon and a lot of laughs, you couldn’t help but let some tears drop from your eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Yoohyeon approached the bed, handing you a tissue.

“This must be how it feels like…” You stuttered. “Having a family.”

“But you have one!” Gahyeon, who was sitting in the bed with you chimed in. 

“I never told you before…” You swallowed, avoiding all their glances as you searched for the courage to come clean about your past. “But I have never met my family, so as far as I know, I don’t really have one.”

You looked up, only to be received by their tender smiles. Almost as if they already knew.

“What are we? Painted?” Handong sneered, making everyone laugh instantly. You giggled too, but your wondering eyes gave up that you were still a little confused.

“Family is so much more than blood lineage Y/n,” Minji added, trying to clear your mind. “And I really like the one that we have right here.”

Something clicked in your mind, calling even more tears to your eyes but a huge smile to your face. The girls all surrounded you in a careful but very welcome and warm hug. Submerged in the comfortable silence surrounding all of you, you could listen to some of the girls crying too. 

But it didn’t matter anyway, you had everything that you ever wanted now. 

“We’ll always be here for you Y/n.” Gahyeon whispered as she took your hand in hers. “We ain’t going nowhere.”

You nodded chuckling, cleaning some of your tears away from your cheeks, but they didn’t stop coming out of your eyes.

“Well, since you're being dismissed tomorrow,” Bora tried to light up the atmosphere a little. “What should we do to celebrate?”

“I suggest an arm wrestling tournament!” Siyeon barged in with a loud chuckle, making everyone turn around to face in disapproval. “It- It was just a joke.”

“But yeah! Putting all dangerous stuff outside,” Handong giggled looking back at you. “What do you want to do tomorrow when we’re finally back home?”

You scanned around at the bright faces surrounding you, each one bringing up that warm sensation on your chest. You had no idea what you did to deserve this much love in your life, but whatever it was, there was no way you would let it slip through your fingers again.

“Wherever you are,” You answered. “I’m already home.”

[winterscaptain]

the pitch.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

a/n: this one is just a fun lil ajf fic! takes place in au!february 2016, during the spring soccer season

words: 1.3k warnings: soccer moms, light language

summary: aaron’s a known challenge for the moms on the soccer pitch. a newcomer finds out why. 

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

“Let’s go Jack! C’mon!” Aaron’s shout carries across the soccer pitch, and Jack delivers - scoring a goal for his second hat trick of the season. At twelve, he is by far the strongest player on the team, as well as the happiest. 

He flies to the sidelines for a moment and meets his dad for a high-five, sprinting back onto the pitch. 

Two moms watch the exchange on the opposite sideline, the younger of the two observing Aaron with particular interest. “Do you think he’s single?” She, unlike her new friend, doesn't know the Hotchners and has never met you.

As it happens, you’re home with Isaac, almost ready to leave for the end of the game. The games are always a little loud for Isaac, but you’ve learned he can tolerate (and sometimes actually enjoy) them for about twenty minutes at a time. Thus, you always started or ended the game without him, spending the rest of the time running errands or hanging out at home. 

While you’re not quite sure what his differences are, you know your little one has a unique relationship to the environment. Derek had the idea to put headphones on him when he was just over a year old, and they’ve been a lifesaver. You usually put them on him to dampen environmental noise, but the ability to play music comes in handy, too. 

Among the more seasoned soccer parents, you’re a bit of a legend. Stepmom to the Stars, and wife of the infamously handsome and competent Aaron Hotchner. You beautifully manage a soon-to-be teenager (who adores you), while carting around an almost-two-year-old (with sensory processing issues), while pregnant (with twins). 

It would be infuriating if it wasn’t so impressive.

The older woman snorts. “Far from it. In fact, he’s more in love with his wife than any man I’ve ever met. If I hadn’t seen him together, I would think he was full of shit, but they really are something else. They work at the Justice Department together.”

“First marriage?” She’s clearly determined. 

“Second. He’s a widower.” 

The younger woman tosses her hair over her shoulder, gathering it up into a ponytail. “I can work with that. It’s been a minute since I flirted with the Justice Department.”

She crosses the pitch, coming to rest by Aaron’s side. 

“So,” she starts, “which one’s yours?”

With a proud, if reserved, smile, Aaron picks Jack out of the players. He’s an easy find, almost a streak on the pitch as he runs across the field. “Jack’s there. He’s my oldest.” After answering her question, he directs all of his focus back to the game, pointedly bringing his left hand to scratch at something on his neck, his wedding ring glinting in the sunlight. 

“Oldest? So you have more kids?”

Absently, he replies, crossing his arms. “I do. Another son and two girls on the way.” He’s had her intentions on lock since he’s spotted her eyeing him across the way. His polite disinterest does nothing to deter her.

“So sweet!” Her voice just about gives him a cavity. “How old is your other son?”

She’s cute enough - a type he would have probably gone after in college - but young and singularly focused. He runs a quick mental profile (have to keep the skills sharp, you know) and sees a woman who married early, divorced soon after having one child - given the wedding band she wears on her right hand and the mother’s ring she wears on her left - and given her pursuit of him, likely something to prove to an older man in her life. 

Thankfully, he knows you’re on your way, ready to save him from this suburban hell. 

“He’ll be two next month.”

She smiles, flicking her ponytail back over her shoulder. “That’s such a sweet age. My daughter is just over a year old, now. My ex is bringing her by tonight, so I’ve got the house to myself all afternoon.” 

Got that profile locked down, didn’t he?

Still got it, Hotchner. 

The woman sighs like a house to herself is the greatest tragedy she’s ever encountered. 

His eyes wander to the parking lot, where you’re walking from the car with Isaac up on your hip, his little headphones already over his ears. You raise an arm to wave and Aaron’s face breaks out into a grin. 

He barely acknowledges the other woman as he says, “Excuse me,” and trots toward you. Jack’s been benched for the time being, recovering from his high-scoring first half. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

You’re greeted with a quick, sweet kiss when Aaron reaches you, and you run a casual hand from his shoulder to his pec, tapping twice. “Hey, my love. How’s he doin’ out there today?”

“Hat trick, we’re up by five and he’s on the bench until next quarter.”

“Excellent.” She shifts Isaac on her hip, and Aaron reaches for him. Much to everyone’s surprise, Isaac reaches out for Aaron and allows his father to tuck him against his chest with one arm. You and Aaron exchange a little smile. 

Your belly has decidedly become an obstacle as the twins get closer to arriving. You’re nearly seven months in, and they’re just about killing you. You will, however, suffer a great many trials for one of Aaron’s back massages, though, carrying his daughters included. 

The three of you (or five, depending on who you count) walk back to the sideline of Jack’s game, your hand tucked into the crook of Aaron‘s elbow. 

“So,” you say. “How many this morning?”

He laughs, a sound that brings a wide smile to your face. “Just the one. I’m a known challenge and I guess she was feeling ambitious.”

“What, babe? Is twenty and unattached not doing it for you anymore?” Your tone is cheeky in the extreme as you rest your hand on your belly. 

You earn an eye roll. “I’ve done twenty and unattached. It got me far enough the second time, and I don’t think ‘third time’s the charm’ will apply to this situation very well.” 

“In fairness, you did twenty-nine and unattached last time, if my memory serves.” You keep your tone light - it’s all play. 

“Ah, yes. That’s right. I’m glad you’re here to keep me honest.” He kisses your temple and you lean into him. “I am an old man, after all. My memory’s going.”

You snort. “Not too far, I hope.” 

A smile plays at the corner of his mouth, and you know he’s thinking of last night. “Nope. Not too far, at all.” 

The running attempts for Aaron’s attention on the soccer field was weekly entertainment at this point. As annoying as it was at the start, he regularly reminds you that only one woman has his ring on her finger and gets to bear his children and receive all the finer things that come with those privileges.

You felt much better after that. 

He stoops to place Isaac in the folding chair he brought specifically for you and his younger son. Under no circumstances can Aaron himself sit still at one of Jack’s games - a habit from his coaching days.

When he straightens, he kisses you again. You can feel his smile against your lips and you’re sure he can feel yours. When you pull back, your eyes track to the side of the pitch. “We have an audience.”

He follows your gaze for just a moment before covering it with a cursory search for Jack, who’s right where he was before. “What’s so interesting about a man who loves his wife?”

You shrug. “I wouldn’t know. It’s not a novelty to me.”

The two soccer moms have reconvened, and the smugness has switched faces. 

“You’re kidding. They’re like a goddamn Hallmark card.”

“I told you.”

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pinkdiamond1016 @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @bauslut @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @zizzlekwum @lcvischmitt @qvid-pro-qvo @mandylove1000 @simsiddy @jeor @synonymforlame @roses-and-grasses @bwbatta @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @garcia-reid-lovechild @cevanswhre@joanofarkansass @infinity1321 @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @spencerelds @ssahotchnerr @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

[srose-foxfire]

Damirae Week 2021 - Day 2

“There Before” (Day : 2 - Enemies to Lovers)

Damian paced back and forth on his four legs before a fireplace, he growled and snarled furious with himself. He should had watched his temper; he should had checked his surroundings before heading out for his morning stroll outside his castle.

Damian was walking, looking at the ground beneath him and seeing how huge his paws were. He was lost in thought, thinking back to when he once was human. A prince. He then heard the rustle leaves as someone other than him stepped them, startled he looked up to find her staring at him in shocked.

Damian’s heart shattered in a million pieces, he wanted to shout, to order her to shield her eyes from his hideous form. Instead a horrendous roar escaped his throat, he felt the earth tremble beneath him, and the trees rustled in fear. Raven then ran, quickly as her two legs could take her towards the castle’s main gates. Shocked to what he had done, Damian just stood there on all fours. His worst nightmare had become a reality, he rather have her be angry with him, but never see her eyes filled with fear. He was a beast after all. Damian closed his eyes hoping that this was all but a dream he was having.

Just then he heard a scream in the distance. Raven’s scream. Followed by a great howl, the terrifying dog-like creature who guarded Damian’s castle entrance must have spotted Raven. Without even realizing, Damian sprinted towards the gates, hoping to reach her in time.

A soft gruntle startled Damian away from his thoughts. Damian turned his head as Koriand’r, Dick’s fiancé floated through the closed doorways. Damian sat on his hind legs, “how is the girl?”

“Ravenis doing fine, she awoke a few minutes ago and… she is asking for you.”

Damian was startled at the mentioned that the girl he allowed to stay in his castle actually requested to see him. He believed after the events that had transpired that she wouldn’t want anything to do with him. Damian looked up into Kori’s eyes and could see she was smiling warmly at him, and so very cautiously walked towards the door and headed towards Raven’s bedroom.

~

Raven’s whole body felt like it had been succumbed under piles of bricks. Every muscle hurt, she reached a hand to rub her face and felt a small healing wound near her temple. That’s going to leave a scar, she thought. Raven looked around, there floating just at the foot of her bed were Cassandra and Stephanie who looked very attentively at Raven. Stephanie appeared to be the oldest of the two, while Cassandra looked to be a year or two younger than Raven. She groined and slammed a pillow over her face, “how long have I been out?”

“About three days,” one of them answered.  

Raven just allowed her mind to wrap around what happened. She had managed to slip and go outside the castle, to see it’s garden, fall had come and she just wanted to admire the autumn colors much closer. Just then she stopped when she had noticed a large black beast walking alone. Raven had been staying in the castle over a month now and not once had she ever seen this creature that seemed a fabrication of night itself. It was dressed in very old and worn out clothing, a single black cape covered most of its body. Raven was utterly amazed by it; she had never seen anything like it, though she couldn’t quite get why it look so sad.

“A beast.” Raven whispered.

She heard a gasp and turned to see both girls stare at her comment. Cassandra leaned closer, “You saw Damian?” 

Damian? Was Damian the beast, Raven had seen? In truth, Raven had never once seen Damian, he always hid in the shadows whenever he was in her presence. She knew he was real or held a physical form from the spirits she had seen wondering the castle’s walls. At times Damian appeared to be taller than her, other times he was at her height, but the only thing she could make out from the shadows were those deep emeralds eyes that burned with anger. She had concluded he was some demon of sorts, but now she discovered he was something else she never once encountered in her life.

“I want to speak with him.” Raven said softly.

Stephanie only nodded and went through her bedroom door. Raven could hear her talk with another woman, who Raven depicted to be Kori, the tall-red headed spirit who would always sneak into Raven’s room and make sure she was comfortable as she can be.

A few moments later, her bedroom doors opened as the beast, or rather Damian walked in on his hind legs. Damian turned around as giving the three girls a silent command and they exited the room as Damian closed the doors to have some privacy.

“You called for me?”

“I did…” They been butting heads since the day she arrived. Raven had come to his castle’s door asking for shelter one rainy night in late summer. At first very mysteriously the doors had opened on their own, she cautiously entered and made her way towards what had probably been the parlor. There was a small fire lit in the fireplace and Raven kneeled before it, begging for the embers to embrace her with their warmth and rid her of the cold. Just then someone bellowed behind her, she turned and in the shadows was the emerald-eye master of the castle. Being careful, Raven stood slowly, she told him she will not trouble him and to only allow her to stay the night. Instead he growled and told her he could not let her leave, Damian claimed she would go and mouthed to the nearby villages of the abandon castle and its hidden treasures. Raven became his prisoner, that stormy night.

Though she wasn’t shackled down in chains nor was she locked in a musty old cell beneath the castle. Instead, Raven was given a room, filled with all the luxuries she could ever imagined. Overtime, she was allowed out her room and eat in the dining hall, but she mostly ate by herself and would catch glimpses of the spirits that inhabit the castle.

“I am very sorry.”

Startled from her own thoughts, Raven looked up to find Damian looking down at the carpet floors as he sat down on all fours. She could tell he was hurting from within, like he was in the center of a raging storm and there was no hope of ever getting out. Raven knew this feeling far too well; she had lived it most of her life. Though no one other than she knew of those torments.

Raven sighed heavily, “You’re not at fault, I shouldn’t had run off like that if it weren’t-”

“If you had never seen me you wouldn’t have been frightened. Your instincts kicked in and told you to run from this… monster.” Damian closed his eyes in repulsion. “You had every right to be scared.”

~

“But I wasn’t scared.”

Damian widen his eyes and brought his gaze to look into Raven’s face. A soft blush had worked itself onto her cheeks as she gazed to the side at her statement. Raven then brought her amethyst eyes to give Damian a loving stare, one that held no ill-will towards him but one that wanted to comfort him. “I am not afraid of you.”

Him. Raven wasn’t afraid of him. In that moment Damian could feel his heart to flutter and warm his whole body with a feeling he never believed ever possible to feel. Damian continue to study her face; not once did she grimace. Instead she gave him a faint smile and reached to take his large paw in her small hands. Never did Raven shudder as she stroked his paw. Her touch was soft, and Damian could had sworn he was meeting a side of her he never met before.

~~~~

A/N: That’s it for day 2, see you all tomorrow for day 3!! 

[vesperlionheart]

Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move. For KisaSaku. :D

KisaSaku & a belated happy birthday for @darth-salem-emperor-of-earth!

(Sort of a companion fix to This One)

‘In matters of inheritance in the land of Kirigkure, the country is old and small enough to cultivate its leftover practices from the oldest days, when Kiri citizens had to fight tooth and nail to protect what was once only a small fishing inlet. Their monarchy equivalent is selected from the previous ruler and approved by a majority vote from the three departments.’

“It shouldn’t count until an official hearing is held to conclude such matters,” Sakura grumbled to mostly herself. Mei was the least sympathetic out of all her supporters when it came to Sakura’s mood and opinions on her stupid country inheritance.

When Mei heard Sakura’s grumbles she only giggled and added another ‘grievance’ scroll to the ever increasing pyramid of incoming missives that would need to be addressed by the end of the day. “Honestly, you have no one else to blame but yourself. What did you expect would happen when you arrived on our borders with all of Tsunade’s tutelage and the copy nin’s keen sense for seeing underneath the underneath? You thought we’d let you go?”

Speaking of Kakashi made Sakura remember the old man’s poor advice: “Just go and check them out. Get in a few fights, drink a little and show them how terrible of a leader you would really be.”

That had worked out terribly.

While Sakura was legally considered a citizen of Kiri, she had grow up outside its boarders and adapted to the culture of the Fire Country where it mattered to have manners with strangers. Her strategy had been to walk in with a buzz and a beer in hand, provoke a shop keep, fight a swordsman-a legendary swordsman-and curse her way out of town. Everything had been going tremendously well, except actually it hadn’t. Kiri was wet in more ways than one and Sakura had unwittingly impressed more than just a few curious eyes with her tolerance of the local booze. Shit talking was seen as a greeting amongst Kiri locals, and fighting might as well have been synonymous with hugging.  

“They’ll kick you out soon enough and you’ll be back home before you know it.”

For not the first time, Sakura lamented Kakashi’s backhanded advice. When she berated him about it later on he only congratulated her on the revitalized economy, the updated hospitals, and all her efforts towards dismantling the caste system. Sakura’s protest that she never meant to do any of that fell on deaf ears.

The trial month was nearly over and plans had already been made to install her as their Mizukage, a position that would put her on par with her one time teacher, the Hokage in the Land of Fire. There was a lot of pomp and ceremony the elders were caught up in that pushed back the actual initiation-but the decision had been made and Sakura’s will was not enough to reject the concessions of the Trident-or the three seats of the Mizukage’s cabinet.

Mei made up the executive branch of the Trident, while the seven swordsmen made up the military branch. Yagura was the head of Economics and the mouthpiece of the Elders who weighed tradition against advancement. Sakura’s job would be to balance all three of their voices and carry the responsibility of any decision they came up with. Only a 3 to 1 vote could overrule a Mizuekage’s executive orders.

“Have you chosen your Second Shadow, yet?” Mei asked.

“I’m actually hoping that if I don’t that this whole party thing can get called off,” Sakura sassed back to Mei, already half finished with the next scroll and all but made up on her finial verdict for the request it presented.

“Have you looked at my boy?”

“Chōjūrō is a sweet kid and will make a fine swordsman one day,” Sakura answered diplomatically.

“But…?”

Sakura looked up and glared. “He’s as shy as an Angel Fish and he still somehow came up with the idea, completely on his own with no help from anyone, to wait for me in my hotel room in a silk robe and slippers and nothing else.” Sakura’s tone was heavy with sarcasm. “I don’t take kindly to attempts of coercion.”

“The kid just wanted your favor and you would hold that against him?” Mei playfully teased.

“I didn’t appreciate it, Mei. Don’t bully your boy into my bed.”

Mei rolled her eyes and picked through the finished missives Sakura had set to the side. “He needed the encouragement. He wouldn’t have done it, even though he wanted to, without some help.”  

“I’m not like you, I don’t enjoy robbing the cradle.”

Mei snorted. “Okay then, babe, tell auntie what your type is?”

Sakura paused and looked up over her next scroll. “Why?”

“Can’t you just believe I’m curious? Why do you have to sound so suspicious of every one of my questions? I’m honestly just curious.”

Sakura’s expression turned blank but Mei didn’t seem to care. “Sure, and my answer would have nothing to do with an attempt by you and the elders to set me up with a nice local boy who will convince me to stay. Suuuuure.”

“So if you’re not interested in our little prince, what abut the naughty type. Suigetsu doesn’t have anyone right now.”

“I thought you were trying to convince me to stay, not scare me off. That starfish can’t keep a relationship on lock for more than a month for a reason, and it isn’t the fault of any of his partners.”  

“So the naughty type is a turn off. What about the daddy type?”

Sakura’s face made an expression of horror. “Gross.”

“Not literally a daddy, don’t look at me like that. You might be surprised so don’t knock it till you try it. I’ll put that down as a ‘maybe’ for now.”

“Please don’t.”

There was a knock on the door and Sakura shouted out for them to enter before Mei could even turn around. A half second later Sakura realized her mistake when she saw Mei’s gloating face. The office already felt like it was Sakura’s.

Damn.

“What?” Sakura barked a bit rudely when Yagura stopped in front of her desk.

 “There’s an issue with deployment.”

“Why are you telling me this? Aren’t Kisame and Zabuza usually the ones who tell me what’s shit with their nin?” Sakura dropped her scroll and leaned back in her seat before waving for him to continue. “What is it?”

If Yagura was bothered by her rude address he didn’t let it show on his face and he never let it carry over into their conversations outside of work. “More of the Kaguya raiders are making issues for the settlements but we don’t have the resources to send out anyone to deal with it. Kisame and Zabuza are both off on missions you approved.”

“This really requires an S ranked response?” Sakura asked, knowing there were few others who could do what Kisame and Zabuza did. If Yagura was asking for either of them he deemed the threat S ranked.

“I’ve already written up the details of the response we’d need.” Yagura produced a thinner scroll and Sakura took it as it passed over her desk.

“If we didn’t have one of the swordsmen on this we’d need at least two dozen nin and we just don’t have those kind of numbers right now.”

“What’s the best we can do?” Sakura asked while rolling back in her chair to check the chart on the wall with a dozen different secret symbols that helped keep her up to date on the military numbers. It showed how many nin of different rank were deployed, how many were wounded, how many were undercover, and how many were available for deployment. It still took Sakura a minute to decipher everything on the chart but she would have it like a reflex by the end of the month.

“Eight.”

Sakura made a face. Eight was a really low number and it was her fault they were in this situation in the first place. She had gambled and played the number game with her nin. Kiri always needed a coalition of soldiers to defend it in case of invasion, and so even if there were over two dozen shinobi at home, she couldn’t touch those.

“Kisame is due back this afternoon, how time sensitive is this issue?”

“It depends on how much the lives of these colonists matter. They’re notorious for skirting on tax payments and regularly sell their produce to rival groups before our citizens.”

“But they are our citizens,” Sakura clarified. They lived outside the walls of Kiri and were largely bitter old marsh farmers and fishermen, but they were culturally more Kiri than Sakura.

“It would be a shame to loose their assets,” Yagura honestly answered. “The Kaguya clan would only grow emboldened if they took over the rest of this territory for themselves.”

Sakura was already standing, pulling off her robes. “Mei, tell Kisame to head over to the settlements as soon as he gets here, even if he’s on fumes. Just the sight of his big blue mug will send some of them running.”

“What are you doing?” Mei asked, eyes wide.

“I’m dealing with this. I still have my rank from Konoha. I should be sufficient with these four,” Sakura said while showing off the mission scroll with her name and four others filled in. “I’ll let them know personally. Yagura will-”

“I understand. I’ll stand in until you’re back.”

“You can’t leave, you’re our Mizukage,” Mei agrued. “That’s against customs. If you fall-”

“I’m not Mizukage yet and you still can’t tell me what to do,” Sakura warned before stalking out of the office with hands itching for a fight.

Hours later her Kabutowari was soaked with blood on both ends, both the hammer and the axe head had been fed enough blood and savagery to sate its appetite for carnage. Sakura was proud of their success and how cheep it cost. Not a single soul on her unit had been seriously wounded or lost and that was quite an accomplishment considering the Kaguya attacked in bands of eight to twelve.

“It’s cause we got to fight with our Mizuekage that our moral was so high,” old man Jinin cheered, looking ready for a stiff drink and maybe an audience who could listen to his tall tales and elaborations on the day’s battle.

Haku came up beside Sakura and touched her elbow to get her attention and she leaned in while he whispered the status of the nin’s health along with the injury inventory. It was a new step Sakura wanted utilized when units emerged from battle. If hospital records could be updated with a complete list of all injuries-including those treated and healed on the battlefield- it would help in future diagnostics.

Haku had helped develop the program and sell it to the other medic trained min. He had been invaluable in helping roll out new changes and on the battlefield his skill set had complemented her fighting style well, since he was more of a long range fighter while Sakura liked to deal damage up close.

“We’re good to go then,” Sakura sighed. “I’m tired. Someone treat me to hot saké once we’re back,” she playfully whined only to get a roar from the men and women on her team. 

Haku kept close to her side and walked with her until they got to the natural mist. Sakura gave the signal and the rest of her team blurred into the fog and took off like birds in a dive, unseen and deadly.

“You wanted to ask me something?” Haku queried.

Sakura was about to say yes but something else caught her eye and she pat Haku’s back in dismissal. “It can wait until after we’re back. I need to catch Kisame up but I’ll see you at the Drunken Whaler.”

Haku turned and saw Kisame emerging from he fog with the blood and grime from his last fight still stuck to his uniform. The two locked eyes and Haku nodded first before taking off.

“So, are you slipping for any particular reason or are you just getting old?” Sakura teased while approaching Kisame.

“Hey, no jokes about my age when my boss orders me to pull a double shift. Slave driver actually expected me to do some good here. Shows you what she knows.”

“Maybe she just wanted you to see what she could do, ever consider that?” Sakura teased back, shouldering her Kabutowar’s axe end on her shoulder while she carried the hammer half with an idle swing in her left hand. The weight never bothered her but she wondered how her weapon would react to a new pair of hands.

“How willing are you listen to your bad ass boss?” Sakura asked.

“You mean my hard ass boss?” Kisame teased back. “Dunno, it depends on the request. Does it involve drinking?”

“Eventually all decisions and requests involve drinking, but not yet. We can get sloshed at the Drunken Whaler with the rest of them but before we get that far…” Sakura rolled the axe head off her shoulder and held it out. “Wanna trade?”

Kisame whistled low and reached up to rub at some of the blood on his chin with the heel of his hand. The twilight was creeping in but the clouds were heavy and low so everything shaded in tones of gray and diluted yellow. Sakura saw a fragment of that sunken gold color in Kisame’s shark eyes when he looked at her weapon, but she wished he’d been looking at her.

He reached over his shoulder and rolled Samehada off his back, letting the bandages drop. The trade off was as natural as any other tradeoff would be between the swordsmen. If the seats hadn’t been filled Sakura might have replaced Haku as a swordsman, since she had a legendary blade and he didn’t. If she had been a swordsman she might have had the chance to do this earlier and with more than just Zabuza’s Kubikiribōchō, but she wasn’t a swordsman and this wasn’t a guaranteed thing.

“Thank you,” Sakura said before Kabutowari finished leaving her hand.

“Careful with him, Samehada can-oh, ya know, never mind. He’s a bitch that’s roll over for anyone with tasty chakra, I shouldn’t have worried for ya,” he chuckled while watching the handoff.

With issue, Sakura held the massive blade level and admired its scale pattern in the gray twilight. There was a delightful shiver as it sucked on her chakra and swallowed it down like a drunk with fine wine. Sakura could feel it purr not unlike how Kabutowari would in her mind once they were linked.

“Let’s see how you like this,” Sakura cooed before swinging Kisame’s blade against the wind and  stepping into the dance she had first learned for Kabutowari with minor adjustments since she was wilding Samehada in one hand. She felt it tense and almost cut at her hand but settled down as it realized what she was playing at.

Samehada cut into the fog and then shaved it down into a finer mist before wrapping it up around Sakura the way the first swordsmen would, back in the old days when chakra was still too wild to name and gods dared to walk amongst the children of men.

Through the mist and over her shoulder Sakura could see Kisame have fun on his own, dancing through the same steps with her two handed Kabutowari, showing mastery of the finer points in spite of his bulk. At first glance Kabutowari seemed too heavy and burly a weapon to expect any delicacy with, but if one wanted to unlock it’s full potential they would have to know more than just the brutal steps that wrought the most damage, they would need to know how to dance and make both the axe and hammer sing.

She watched Kisame twist through her steps like a ghost of her old master’s memory and watched, transfixed, as he let go of the axe side to swing around and snap back with perfect timing.

“Jealous?” the voice in her mind purred. Samehada helped himself to a drop more of her chakra as she paused in her steps.

“No, I know Kabutowari is my blade and he’ll return to me in time. There’s no reason to be jealous of your master for handling my blade so well.”

“Didn’t mean Kabutowari,” Samehada chuckled so deeply it made Sakura’s mind feel like a cavern with no end. A half second later she realized what Kisame’s blame meant and she giggled, almost manic at the implication.

“No,” she hissed through his stifled giggle. “No way, not you too. Leave me alone and let me have my fun.”

“Don’t see a reason you can’t have it both ways,” Samehada teased, poking at her palm but doing no real damage.

It wouldn’t hurt her if she could hear its voice and give him her chakra to sip on, but even if tried she’d be able to heal such a modest attack. There wasn’t any real danger to her from Samehada, but she felt unbalanced by his words enough to step out of the old steps and swing the monster blade down against the earth with a surge of chakra that split the earth.

She heard his excited cheer and delighted cackle as he served as the conduit to her legendary chakra release. Sounding almost drunk it asked for her to do that again but Kisame was already laughing at her and that was the only sound she could pay attention to.

“I think I’ve had enough fun for one night,” Sakura said with a tired laugh, hopping over to Kisame’s side with his sword. The exchange was easier this time but before Kisame could press Kabutowari into her hand their fingers touched enough for Sakura to feel where all his blisters had hardened into callouses. Even down the sides of his fingers she could feel the evidence of his devotion to the blade and she wondered, wickedly, what it would feel like to be handled by hands like that.

“Naughty,” Samehada purred to her before their link was severed. Sakura felt her face roar with heat and embarrassment, which she tried to play off by jumping back with Kabutowari and a nervous chuckle. Her weapon purred in confusion and almost understood but Sakura sealed him away into one of her pocket dimension before he could scream out the truth like an echo in her mind.

Damn, dirty thoughts-this was all Mei’s fault for planting the seeds in the first place.

Sakura ran her hands through the fog and then combed them through hair, grateful for the cool the almost night allowed. She knew she didn’t have a ‘pretty’ blush like some other girls. She went beat red and it was almost impossible to hide.

“We should head back, we’ve held back long enough the others might get worried. Plus, I wasn’t exactly quiet just now,” Sakura said.

“Aww boss, don’t make this old man run all the way back after I ran all the way out here only to be late,” Kisame playfully whined.

“What, you want to walk back. That’ll take forever,” Sakura said.

“Not for the whole while, but we can run off later. Can’t we just take it easy for a little while?” he asked.

Only because he asked Sakura agreed.

After a minute Kisame spoke up. “So the word going around is that you haven’t picked a second yet. Don’t you have any ideas or is no one willing to take on the load? You’re kinda a slavedriver.”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“What are you thinking about.”

Sakura made a face, not knowing if he was teasing or being serious with his question. “It’s so different compared to Leaf, I mean this second almost feels like a marriage partner according to Mei, and it’s kinda serious enough that the thought process is similar. You pick someone and then they’re with you the whole time, nearly day and night, and that’s similar to how Shizune was for Tsunade, but…I don’t know, the cultures are different.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Kisame chuckled. “When Kiri loses a kage it’s tits up and everything goes to shit real quick-we know because we’ve seen it more than any of the other hidden villages. More assignations mean more hard lessons learned.”

“But does it have to be one person? Tsunade had ANBU who were rotated out all the time.”

“Yeah but that’s such a shit idea here. If I wanted to kill the Hokage I’d just impersonate an ANBU and wait in rotation until I was alone with-ah, don’t give me that face, I’m just saying hypothetical things.”

“It’s not so easy to infiltrate ANBU.”

“You say that like we haven’t ever done that,” Kisame snorted and then when he saw Sakura’s face he laughed. “Nothing so bad, boss, nothing so bad! You’ll see for yourself when you get access after inauguration, but those ain’t your people no more. You are ours.”

There were a few too many things making Sakura’s gut church with complicated feelings. What Kisame said about belonging to Kiri was right and it hurt, not because she hated being accepted, but because of what it meant for her ties to everyone back home-back in Konoha. Tsunade and Kakashi were her teachers but they couldn’t call her their disciple anymore. For the sake of the future of their foreign policy, Sakura had watched as the steps were taken to cut her off from the village hidden in the leaves until there was only one place she could run to. It wasn’t a vicious thing and there was nothing personal about it. Sakura actually understood why they did what they did-changing out the codes and locking her out of accessing ANBU updates.

Kiri was supposed to be her home now…her village.

“Boss?”

“You know you can call me by my name when it’s just us,” Sakura said instead, trying to sound annoyed so he didn’t misunderstand the meaning of her words and think she wanted him to speak to her familiarly. “Boss makes me feel like an old lady.”

The other feelings that made her gut churn came from the last thing he said to her. “You are ours.” Someone once said the people in Kiri were a people who knew loss to well to share decently in the future, thus they were a possessive people who coveted many things.

“Then Haruno kun-”

“Haruno kun?” Sakura sputtered. “What are you my uncle? No-ugh, you’re-oh man I had a teacher who would call me Haruno kun in school back when we were in the academy. You’re banned from the ‘-kun,’ if you’re gonna tack something on at least make it sound cute.”

“Sakura chan?” Kisame playfully called out, pitching his voice high and squeaking out the title.

“Never mind, I take it back, just Haruno or just Sakura, but nothing else. Gosh, I thought someone said that in Kiri they didn’t have manners or shit. Just call me whatever, I don’t care,” Sakura said even though she cared.

“Then Haruno, who do you think would be a good candidate for second. You’ll pick from the swordsmen right? Where else would you go?”

“Mei wanted me to go with her boy Chōjūrō but can you see that working out?”

“That jellyfish?” Kisame hooted. “He’s as shy as an Angel Fish. You’d eat him alive for breakfast.”

“I live to entertain,” Sakura mocked with a silly bow. “But you’ve got a point about pulling from the swordsmen. What would that do to your seats? Would you replace whoever left or take in someone new?”

“Maybe Chōjūrō,” Kisame joked.

“He’s an excellent fighter, he just doesn’t have a future in politics,” Sakura defended. “I could see him growing into that role.”

Kisame watched Sakura a half minute longer before saying anything new. The sun was half sunk into the horizon and all the mist seemed to choke on dying colors as they waded through the distortion.

“You have someone in mind, don’t you?”

“I have ideas but I don’t want to have ideas since I don’t like this whole set up. If it was up to me and the elders didn’t insist on tradition, I’d just have the Seven of you on rotation as my guard.”

Kisame made a thoughtful sound. “That could work as a back up, but you know how those old tradition fogies are.”

Sakura rubbed at her neck and looked ahead. “I need a drink. Race you back?”

“Ah, but I’m all tired from-” Kisame never finished his sentence since he chose that moment to flash step forward and take off running. Sakura cursed and raced behind him but came last and ended up having to buy a round for everyone at the pub.

When Kisame woke a week later he was wide eyed and energized, which was a rare thing for him these days. He normally hated mornings but the sight of his fresh dress uniform hanging up was enough to make him remember why today was such a big deal. It wasn’t just any other day, it was Sakura’s inauguration.

The whole of Kiri was hyped as fuck for a new Mizukage like Sakura, one who revitalized their economy and recovered their crumbling hospital system. The fact that she was the wielder of Kabutowari made it feel like a long lost child coming home from the war with spoils to share with the whole country. Sakura felt like she had always been theirs, like Kiri had always been her home. Even when she had been trying to piss people off and get out of the inheritance she had fit in too well. Her brash personality and strong convictions made her-

“Perfect,” Kisame said out loud, a little too caught up in his thoughts.

He grimaced a the sound of his thoughts and moved to wash up before dressing for the day. He needed to finish waking up or else he was bound to say something else equally stupid. Today was too important to look like a fool.

In short order he was as handsome as he’d ever get with an ugly mug like his and dressed for the occasion. Samehada fit into the latch carrier on his back and outside he saw the others waiting in the courtyard to the mansion where Sakura would start her procession.

Already, people were filling the streets in hopes of catching an eyeful of their new Mizukage on her first day on the job. Some were selling flowered crowns and wreaths as the newest trend had been to emulate Sakura’s flowery good looks. Young girls were cutting their hair like her and boys were dreaming about an impossible future among the swordsmen because of her. There was a building that had been painted with a modest mural of Sakura trees and different blooming flowers in celebration. The love his people had for her was everywhere.

“You’re not late,” Suigetsu taunted.

Kisame punched the younger boy in the face, ignoring both Suigetsu and his brother in favor of seeking out Zabuza. “Hey, you hear anything yet?”

“No one here knows who’s getting the nomination, that hasn’t changed,” Zabuza answered.

“Did you sign the consent form?” Haku asked, lookin up at Zabuza first and then Kisame. The consent form was basically a way those with the qualifications could put their name in the hat that Sakura could pull from.

“On day one, brat. Why, you didn’t?”

“I…I mean I eventually put my name in for consideration. I think I’d do well at it,” Haku answered, steeling his words towards the end even if he kept glancing back at Zabuza.

Between the seven of them, the only one Kisame seriously considered a challenge was Zabuza when it came to winning Sakura’s second. The pair of them were the strongest, arguably, and had a good working relationship with others. But, between the both of them, Kisame knew he was the only one who had been on Sakura’s side since day one when she first arrived. Even if Zabuza had been won over and was loyal now, no one had been in Sakura’s corner like Kisame.

Kisame thought his chances were good.

“Get in your dame spots,” Ameyuri snapped with a dangerous edge. Since Sakura had cured Ameyuri’s disease the kunoichi was near fanatical in her devotion to Sakura. When Kisame pretended to drag his feet Ameyuri snapped her sharpened teeth at his face and he backed up with a chuckle.

The doors to the mansion opened and the elders filtered out before Yagura and Mei. Yagura and Mei paused at the top of the stairs before joining the elders in the courtyard where their respective bodyguards were stationed. That’s when Sakura emerged at the top of the stairs to the mansion and the moment Kisame thought his heart was going to stop. 

The robes had never looked so good on anyone before. Underneath the white and blue folds a soft dress of flaring gray and white, detailed with pearls and accented with a thick mother of pearl gorget around her neck, like the kind samurai would wear of a heartier material. It was ceremonial but Sakura wore it like armor.

The bells on her hat tinkled as she descended the steps and took her spot at the head of the group. Her painted lips were pressed into a hard line and her jaw was set with determination, but she still looked soft where it counted.

Kisame caught her eye at one point and it made his smile grow when the corners of her eyes crinkled for him.

“Haruno Sakura…” one of the elders began.

The ceremony lasted no longer than twenty minutes before Sakura was told to turn around and address the others. “And in line with the traditions of our ancestors, I will honor them with this choice and accept a second. Should I ever fall may their strength be measured by the gods and men,” she recited perfectly. Then she locked her lips and held up a hand before adding, “and in addition to a second I will be installing a rotating support guard for the Mizukage, with the blessing of the elders who safeguard our traditions. Every member of the Seven Swordsmen will rotate into the role of a tertiary figure of my inner circle, behind my second.”

Beside him Ameyuri gasped in delight, suddenly filled with hope that even if she wasn’t chosen she would still be able to serve her idol.

“Mizukage, your pick for second shadow?” one of the elders prompted.

Sakura nodded and the bells on her hat tinkled. “For my second shadow I have chosen Yuki Haku to serve me. Yuki Haku do you accept?”  

That…didn’t… make sense. Kisame snuggled to hear what Sakura said next as Haku approached her and knelt before accepting the mother of pearl pin with the symbol of Second Shadow. Haku said something back to her, maybe in thanks, but all Kisame could hear was the rush of blood in his ears as his gut churned in a grief he couldn’t understand.

[local80smotel]

Midnight wind

pairing; V x air bending! Reader

summary; Y/N gains powers and after escaping Larkhill wants to get revenge

requested by; @scatter-mind001

rating; T

warnings; heavy mention of guard-on-prisoner abuse

word count; 2,311

A/N; I'm actually thinking of making a part two of this but I'm actually very satisfied with it! Thank you for the request!

Y/N remembered the night they were stolen from their normal daily life and how much terror pulsed through their body. The reason? Y/N's family were proud Irishmen and refused to hide that fact from anyone. They went as far as to hang the Irish flag outside their home instead of the Norsefire flag which they were commanded to do so. It became an inside joke of the neighborhood on how long it would take for the L/N family to be removed.

Some even betted money. Unsurprisingly it happened around seven months into high Chancellor Sutler's term that the raid happened. Y/N thought they would be spared as they broke down their bedroom door around 1:34 AM. Sadly they were wrong as they were 17 and was seen as being "too old" to be sent to a reclamation camp. Y/N was sent to Larkhill while their parents were sent to two different camps.

This fact was the thing that caused the kid to wail almost every hour of the day when they were forced to stay in their cell. Oh, what would they say to their parents instead of blaming them for this. They should have known they would do something as heartless as break a family up. Larkhill was, to put it shortly and simply, was living hell. The only time Y/N got human interaction was when they were getting experimented on and even then the scientists were anything but kind.

What messed with Y/N's head the most was the lack of clocks or calendars in the camp. Seconds seemed to turn into hours as they would just lay on the concrete floor and stare at the ceiling. The only thing that kept their spirits high was one of the fellow prisoners at Larkhill. The first time they talked was when snow started to stick to the corpse ridden ground. He was quiet and had issues with mumbling and when asked what his name was, he became silent for a few moments only for him to reply with an “I can't remember”.

The two of them decided to give him the name of V as it was the roman numeral for five, his room number. Y/N never knew why but V was the one that the prison guards would abuse when they would become enraged at something. Maybe it was because he didn't try to fight back as other prisoners did. When asked by Y/N why he wouldn't stand up for himself he told her “What's the point?”. V especially enjoyed hearing about the gunpowder plot of 1605 and started to idolize Guy Fawks, the man who had planned the explosion. They couldn't help but giggle when V would ask so many questions like a knowledge-hungry child.

The experiments Y/N experienced was... Something. A theory the scientists had was that an increase in air and maybe using the old-time favorite, electric shock therapy, would bring answers and results. When it came to the air theory, many of their "guinea pigs" had already died as they had been injected with 2.7 mL of air which killed them almost immediately. But somehow, after the now 18-year-old had their brain almost fried, survived and only passed out after the 1.5 mL mark.

When they woke up their food, or better yet described as slop, was harshly thrown into their room.

Y/N feeling nauseous, tried to push away the plate even though it was five feet away from them. To their astonishment, it moved and banged loudly against the thick metal door which left a dent in it. The now curious Y/N would test this new power by "playing" with the local camp rats. When they'd come into their room to eat their food, they flick a wisp of air which would hit them like a whip. As a result, the poor creature would run away squeaking in pain but luckily not bleeding.

What's ironic was both the rat and Y/N were somewhat the same as both were hungry, alone, and puzzled on this new ability. They had never used this power on the workers until they had practiced for three months. At this point in time, they knew how to control how much power they let out and what they would call an "air-blast" which was a shot a compressed spurt of air from their hands. It was hard to practice as they were being restricted in an 8ft by 8ft cell.

When Y/N attacked the scientists it was initially an accident. What caused this? They tried to eject more air into them as almost all of the scientists that worked for the camp were perplexed on how they were still alive. Once 0.5 mL of air was pushed into them, poor Y/N was sent into a panicked state as they could feel their heart starting to skip beats. They were able to strike two of the five people in the room until they were restrained and subdued.

After that, they were moved from room #4 to one of the more secure rooms. With this happening V was under the impression that Y/N had been executed or died that day. V was sent into a blind rage and well, you can guess what happened next. Around midnight, a few weeks after their move to room #12, explosions woke them from their deep slumber. When they awoke they expected to see complete darkness but were entirely wrong.

The fire was everywhere, making it hard for the know coughing inmate to focus on what was happening. Once they were able to get up they immediately looked for shoes. Sure, it sounds selfish at first but they were looking for shoes not so they could run away but so they could look for their only friend, the man in room #5. Sadly, when they heard a loud scream- no, it was more of a roar, they were under the belief that the fire had devoured him. Y/N couldn't help but fall to the ground which was covered in rubble to sob.

This wasn't fair. This place had taken everything from him; his memories, his name, his humanity, and now it had taken his life. The rest of the night was a blur as they tried to travel back to London. This took weeks as the adult was too exhausted to stay up for more than 8 hours as their sleep schedule, just like their will to live, had been completely destroyed by Larkhill. When they finally got to London it was pitch black.

Their heart stung as they walked the brick sidewalk. Their heart was breaking because V and them had talked about this back when they were still cell neighbors. They were so hopeful that they'd get to walk down the streets together once they were free. Y/N was lucky enough to find an abandoned matchbox factory. They decided to stay in the basement of the burned down building as it would be the safest choice when it came to being seen.

Slowly, over the next four years, they fixed up their new lair. They got working electricity and indoor plumbing after trying hundreds of times. The escapee finally got a television after trash diving and finding a still working 70s one. The first channel they watched was "The voice of London" as they heard through the grapevine that it was a news channel. Y/N went to channel 012 and once they saw the News host, their excitement left their body.

It, it was him. Lewis Prothero, the man who would frequently abuse the prisoners of Larkhill. Just seeing him made their blood start to boil. They instantly got off of their makeshift couch, walking back and forth as they mumbled under their breath. They could have sworn they saw Lewis' dead body that night of the fire. This simply wasn't fair.

For the next few weeks, they began to plan, gradually gathering information on where Lewis was living now. The night they finally got his extract location, they were overwhelmed with joy. Y/N grabbed their jacket, as winter was finally rolling around so the winds would nip at them, and left the bunker.

They took flight, fury making it seem like they were moving two times as faster as they should be. Y/N had learned this new ability when they lost all earthly ties after V died. Sure, flying still freaked them out but it was the fastest and safest way. When they slowly approached the building, they prepared for what they would have to do next, which was break the giant window to get inside. They took a deep breath in and air hit and kicked the window in rapid succession, shattering it after just a few hits.

Rolling inside and brushing off pieces of glass, Y/N proceeded to walk in the direction of the home's bathroom as they heard the water running. When they opened the door the first thing that drew their eye was a black mass.

“Lew-” they began their speech they had been writing and tweaking over the last weeks but stopped midway through the first word when the mass turned to them. This wasn't Lewis, this was a random masked person. Before they could ask where their victim was, the man stepped out of the way to reveal the lifeless body on the floor which had a single rose on his chest.

Anger filled them as they looked back up at the masked man. Y/N was supposed to get revenge for their long-dead friend. They RUINED this moment. How was Y/N supposed to help V heal in his grave?

“You!” they screamed as they swiped the air, turning their swipes into blades. “How dare you?! You have no clue what he did!” the man was pushed back by the amount of force the wind carried in it

“Wait let me explain!” the Guy Fawks mask-wearing murderer shouted as they fell to the ground with a knee on the floor to keep them up.

“You weren't there! You weren't mistreated!”

“No Y/-”

Using their oldest power, the air blast, tears were already seeping down their face which was twisted in what seemed to be never-ending pain. The blast hit them directly in the face as they groaned out in pain and finally fell the floor, making a loud thud as their skull hit the marble floor. Y/N strolled over to the body to finish them off so they could get some kind of revenge, only to stop with their body now feeling numb. Their mask, now cracked and was flung off of his face and now somewhere else on the floor with his hat.

“You-” their breathing became shallow as they dropped to the floor with them. “You asshole!” Y/N grabbed the collar of his cap, once again crying but now more violently. “I thought you died- you left me! You left me to suffer alone!” they laid their head on their chest as they continued to sob. V just had to lay there as their close friend cried over them. His skin felt like it was burning as the bathroom's overhead light was beating down on him. He couldn't help but start to cry too. V never wanted to leave them, he was under the impression Y/N has already died. That impression was the reason why he exploded Larkhill.

“I tried looking for you-”

“Well, you didn't try hard enough then!”

There was a moment of silence as the two friends wept next to the freshly dead body of their abuser. V moved them into a hug as he sat upright, rocking them gently as he did so.

“Stop-” they hiccuped “treating me like a baby”

“But that's the only way you'll calm down. You told me this yourself Y/N.”

They rubbed their eyes as they looked up at the severely burnt man. His skin looked inflamed from his crying. They tried to reach up and touch him but he jerked his head back the second their hand went up.

“How did you survive?”

“I can ask you the same thing.”

Y/N rolled their eyes at his reply. Typical V behavior, they thought to themselves. They stayed this way for a few more moments until the realization of where they were set in.

“Welp, we must be going now, police will come any second. We'll be executed if we're found here.” V sprang up, walking over to his mask and hat and quickly put them back where they belonged. Y/N followed suit, already walking out of the bathroom and to the window they had broken to get inside.

“Where are you going?” V asked as the night wind went through his hair

“Home?” they answered back, hoping that they could still fly now that they knew V was alive.

“But that's the completely wrong way.” they looked over at him, confusion on their face as they opened their mouth to speak before V interrupted them, oh how V had a horrible habit of that.

“You're coming home with me. I'm not letting my dear friend live on the street or in some broken-down building.” he held out his hand to them. Y/N could feel V smirking under his cracked mask and rolling their eyes gave them their hand.

[bellakitse]

Hey! Idk if you’re taking prompts but if you’re up to it I have a request :) TK and Carlos have a bad fight one morning and they go to work mad at each other and throughout the day they realize it was a stupid fight but they’re both trying to give the other some space. Carlos gets caught up working till late at night and when he gets home TK is asleep on the couch waiting. they make up and it’s very soft and it involves lots of fluff. I just realized this is really specific lol sorry

Stumbling a Step

A fight with Carlos leaves TK in a foul mood. Judd sets him straight.

30 days of Tarlos - Day 12

The drive to work is quiet, out of the corner of his eye he sees Carlos grip the steering wheel a little harder as the car comes to a stop in front of the firehouse.

“I have a long shift today,” he says, his tone stiff. “I won’t be home until after midnight.”

TK looks over at his boyfriend; it’s the first thing Carlos has said since their shout out the night before.

They’d gone to bed in absolute silence; for the first time since they got together, they didn’t sleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Instead, they had slept with their backs facing the other. It has to be the worst sleep TK has had in the year since dating Carlos.

“I think I’m going to go to my dad’s tonight,” he tells him, watching as Carlos’ jaw clenches in return.

“If that’s what you want,” is all Carlos says, not meeting his eyes as he stares forward at his windshield.

TK opens his mouth only to close it again. He doesn’t know what he wants to say, the silence between them makes him feel antsy and awkward. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, he reaches for the door of the car, they’re not getting anywhere like this, and he has a shift to start.

“I’ll see you later,” he mumbles as he steps out of the car. He’s about to shut the door when Carlos’ soft ‘be safe’ reaches his ears, making his stomach twist. He watches Carlos pull away with a frown on his face and a dull ache under his ribcage.

Letting out another sigh, he looks up at the firehouse, feeling his mood sour by the second.

Today is going to be an absolute shit day.

 ֍֍֍

 Unfortunately, his prediction proves to be 100% correct; his day has gone to hell in a handbasket.

With every call they get, his temper gets more and more stretched thin. Everyone on the team keeps giving him looks as his mood settles over the rest of them like a dark cloud.

They come back from their fourth call of the day, a small house fire they easily control. It shouldn’t have been a problem except for the way he keeps barking at everyone. Mateo takes the worst of it when the poor kid asks him if he’s okay. He snaps at him that he should mind his own business, startling the other guy back. Since then, no one utters a word on the ride back to the firehouse.

He jumps out of the truck before it’s completely come to a stop, his father sends him a look, but he ignores it as he heads up the stairs. If he wants to reprimand him, he’s going to have to do it as his Captain and not his father. For now, all he wants is to be alone before he says something else to one of his friends he can’t take back.

He hides in the dorm room alone; his mood is so foul even Buttercup takes one look at him and turns tail. Checking his phone, he tries to ignore the way his heart aches at the lack of texts from Carlos. It’s been seven hours since Carlos dropped him off and not a single message, it’s something he’s not used to.

He braces himself when he hears footsteps getting closer until they’re inside the dorms with him. He hears a throat clear and knows instantly who’s decided to brave his temper.

“Look, I don’t know what crawled up your ass and died today,” Judd starts, standing next to his bed, his expression is as no-nonsense as his words as he stares him down. “But your mood is putting everyone on edge. You almost made Mateo cry when you yelled at him, which pissed Marjan off. Paul is trying to cheer up Mateo and calm down Marjan with food.”

TK looks up at him silently, feeling more miserable than before, guilt mixing with the frustration he’s been feeling all day. He doesn’t know what his expression is telling Judd, but he hears the older man let out a sigh.

He watches as Judd rolls his shoulders once awkwardly before sitting down on the bed next to him.

“The captain isn’t too happy with you right now either,” Judd continues, his expression softening from annoyance to worry. “But I told him I would talk to you instead, might make it easier. So, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

TK debates staying quiet for a moment, to let all the negative feelings inside fester until they make his stomach ache.

“Come on, brother,” Judd urges him softly. “Talk to me; this isn’t like you.”

TK feels his eyes sting at the concern he hears in Judd’s voice, even though he’s been a horror all day.

“Carlos and I got into a fight last night,” he starts, licking at his dry lips, saying the words out loud makes his heart twist. Judd gives him a surprised look that makes TK chuckle humorlessly. His friend’s surprise is understandable; he and Carlos never fight. Everyone that knows them likes to make fun of how sweet they are on each other.

“What was the fight about?” Judd asks curiously, as TK tenses.

“He –,” TK starts only to stop, he exhales, shaking his head. Taking another breath, he starts to talk. He tells Judd about the romantic dinner Carlos had ready when he arrived at his place, everything wonderful as always until he asked him one simple question.

Judd looks at him long and hard, the disbelieving look on his face putting him on the defensive.

“What?” he asks sharply.

Judd raises an eyebrow at him. “I’m just trying to understand how Carlos asking you to move in with him started a fight.”

“Look, he just – “ he stumbles.

“I mean you’re already living with him,” Judd talks over him. “This is just making it official.”

TK feels his heart jump at Judd’s words; he tries to ignore how close they are to what he’s been thinking all day. “I’m not already living with him,” he argues, annoyed when Judd rolls his eyes in response.

“When was the last time you didn’t sleep at his place if you weren’t here?” Judd questions, not waiting for an answer before he’s asking another. “Or the last time you even when to your dad’s place that wasn’t just to check up on him and pick up some clothes before heading back to Carlos’?”

TK opens his mouth to argue some more, even though he knows there is nothing he can say, he knows Judd is right. Instead, he bites down hard on his lip.

Judd, in turn, looks at him with concern. “What’s going on, TK, for real?”

“I freaked out,” he says quietly, knowing it’s true now as it was true last night. Carlos had asked him to move in, the next logical step in their relationship, and it had filled TK with absolute fear. He tries to explain, to make Judd understand.

“I have been in love before,” he starts, swallowing hard as he remembers Alex and their failed relationship. “I thought we were going to be together forever, so I took the next step in our relationship in it blew up in my face,” he tells his friend, feeling the old ache. “It almost cost me my life when it ended. I love Carlos so much more than I ever loved Alex. What if I take this step, and then he leaves me too, I don’t know how I would survive that.”

Judd looks at him for a moment, and then without saying anything, pulls him towards his chest into a strong hug.

TK goes willingly, the stress of the last 24-hours coming to a breaking point as he clings to his friend.

“Shit, kid,” Judd swears softly into his hair. “It’s going to be different this time.”

“How do you know that?” he asks desperately.

Judd pulls back from the hug, making sure he looks at him. “Well, for one, Carlos is as in love with you as you are with him. I don’t know that cheating asshole ex of yours, but I know he didn’t love you like Carlos, which makes him an idiot on top of being an asshole.”

TK chuckles softly at the gruff man’s strong words.

“And two, on the off chance that I’m wrong and it doesn’t work out between you and Carlos, which I’ll eat my cowboy hat if that ever happens. You have us, your dad, and your team. You would survive because we would make sure you do,” Judd says firmly, his eyes a little wet as he looks at him. “The day we became brothers, you became my responsibility, I would make sure you survive it, okay?”

TK’s eyes burn from unshed tears as he gives Judd a wobbly nod. The weight he’s been carrying over his heart slightly lifting.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” he questions, already knowing the answer.

Judd shrugs it off. “Carlos will forgive you, he’s crazy about you, and the team will forgive you too, you’re our loveable brat.”

“Thanks, Judd,” he says dryly, rolling his eyes even as he smiles his first smile of the day.

Judd gives one back to him, crooked and amused. “What are brothers for, man.”

 ֍֍֍

 TK apologizes to his team for his behavior before he leaves for the day, like Judd predicted they forgive and tease him until he knows everything is okay between them. He leaves the firehouse feeling lighter but knows there is still one person he needs to make things right with.

Getting to Carlos’ apartment a quarter after ten, he lets himself in with his keys, shaking his head at himself. Judd was right about yet another thing, he and Carlos have been living together for months now, it just hasn’t been official.

He showers and changes into a pair of ratty sweats and one of Carlos’ oldest APD shirts, before going back to the couch. With the TV on, he lays back and waits, as his eyes grow heavy his last thought before he falls asleep is Carlos.

He wakes up to a hand cupping his cheek gently, opening his eyes, he finds warm brown eyes looking back at him softly.

“Hi, baby,” Carlos whispers to him with affection, and TK can’t help the choked sob that escapes his throat.

He wraps his arms around Carlos, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. Vaguely he feels himself be picked up and moved until he finds himself sitting on Carlos’ lap as he holds him to his chest, running his hand up and down his back as he waits for him to calm down.

A few minutes pass before he’s able to lift his head and look at Carlos. The love and worry in his eyes make TK feel both relieved and awful, especially when he takes in the dark circles under Carlos’ eyes, proof that he didn’t get much sleep either.

“I’m sorry,” he starts. It makes Carlos shake his head.

“No, I’m sorry,” he says back. “I shouldn’t have rushed you.”

TK huffs, rolling his eyes at the comment. “You didn’t, you and I both know you didn’t. We already live together, Carlos, you just wanted to make it official. It scared me, and I picked a fight, I was awful last night, and you didn’t deserve that,” he whispers, looking away in shame.

He feels Carlos’ fingers under his chin, lifting his head gently until he’s looking into his eyes again.

“What scared you, Ty?” Carlos asks him calmly.

TK takes a breath to steady his racing heart. He tells Carlos everything he told Judd. Every fear inside him pouring out until there is nothing left. When he’s done, he finds Carlos giving him a lovingly tender look.

“Oh, baby,” he sighs, pressing him back against his chest, holding him close. He feels Carlos’ lips against his temple. “You don’t ever have to worry about me leaving you.”

“You can’t promise that,” he whispers, hating how small his voice sounds.

Carlos moves back to look at him. “You’re right. I can’t promise you that,” he says seriously. “I have a dangerous job. I might not come home one day.”

TK closes his eyes for a moment at the words, his heart squeezing painfully tight.

“But willingly, Tyler?” Carlos continues, making sure his eyes are on him. “I can promise that with certainty. I will never leave you willingly.”

“Carlos – “ TK barely gets out, stifling down a sob.

“I am so in love with you, Tyler Kennedy,” Carlos tells him sternly. “Every molecule that makes me, me, is in love with you.”

Carlos cups his cheek, his thumb wiping away at a tear that rolls down his face. “I was made to love you with every part of me. I’ll never leave you.”

TK can’t stop his crying now; he shakes as Carlos holds him through it, all the while whispering in his ear how much he loves him.

When he’s finally calmed down enough to speak, he pulls back to look at Carlos. “I love you the same way,” he says softly.

Carlos smiles at him as he wipes away at his blotchy face. “I know that, baby, I know.”

“Ask me again?” he asks hopefully.

Carlos chuckles, the smile on his face bright and joyful. “TK Strand, will you move in with me?”

TK smiles back as he lets go of his fear, an all-consuming happiness replacing it. “Yes.”