#the fact that he constantly holds onto his responsibility to keep his team alive and leave nobody behind

[fckerofmonsters]

thought too hard about the trauma and loss chris redfield has endured and genuinely almost ruined my own night im in hell

[blu-joons]

DAD NCT A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Jung Yoonoh

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Yoonoh would always be on hand with open arms whenever you needed an embrace from him. He tended to follow your lead when it came to affection whilst pregnant as he never wanted to overwhelm you too much with it.

B ⇴ BUMP

It was hard for him to see you lose independence as your bump grew bigger, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he loved how much more you relied on him too. Simple tasks suddenly felt as if they were impossible for you, but Yoonoh would always be straight there to fulfil them for you and remind you that you were doing an incredibly hard task already with your baby.

C ⇴ CRAVINGS

Whatever you needed, and whatever time, Yoonoh would get it in a heartbeat. It didn’t matter how crazy of a demand it was, his priority was always helping you out and making pregnancy even just a little bit easier for you. As strange as Yoonoh sometimes thought your cravings were, he never made you feel bad for it, and instead got what you needed with a smile on his face.

D ⇴ DUE DATE

Yoonoh wanted everything to be as organised as possible by the time your due date rolled around so that the two of you had as little as possible to stress about. He had plenty of lists on his phone to make sure that everything was in place for when your little one decided to make their appearance, his organisation took you by surprise a little, but you were glad Yoonoh had shouldered the responsibility to keep everything on track.

E ⇴ EMOTIONS

There were many moments during your pregnancy when Yoonoh’s emotions would get the better of him, especially when he got overwhelmed. You’d often spot him tearing up, especially during your scans or when there was a particularly hard kick from your baby against your stomach. He wasn’t afraid of showing his emotions, but he also made sure that he tried to keep his worries to a minimum to be strong for you.

F ⇴ FAMILY

The bond that you had with Yoonoh’s family only tightened throughout your pregnancy. They always knew Yoonoh had a found a good one with you but seeing how close the two of you became whilst you were pregnant brought you closer to them too. They weren’t overbearing, but as they constantly reminded you, they were only a phone call away whenever you did need anything from them or a little advice too.

G ⇴ GENDER

You’d decided to place a bet on what the gender of your baby would be, with you going for a boy, and Yoonoh for a girl. You chose to wait until your baby was born to find out which one of you would be right and see which one of you could start your journey of parenthood with bragging rights that they managed to guess correctly.

H ⇴ HEARTBEAT

Whenever Yoonoh heard the beat of your baby’s heart, it definitely made him emotional. It always surprised him how something so small could be so powerful. It tended to hit home a lot for him too that he really was going to be a dad when he could draw the dots and receive a sign that your baby was alive and well.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

During the times when he’d get emotional, Yoonoh would be certain to remind you that he loved you a lot too. He spoiled you rotten throughout your pregnancy, always coming home with gifts and treats for you as a token to at least try and show you how appreciative he was of the incredible things your body was doing.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

Yoonoh didn’t get jealous at all throughout your pregnancy, he was far too excited to become a dad and enjoying the bump bubble to let anything get to him. If anything, the others would often find themselves getting a little bit jealous of how happy and settled Yoonoh was with you. Some of them weren’t in as much of a rush to settle down, and excited to become uncles, but others were keen to find someone soon to share what you guys had with them.

K ⇴ KICKS

Little giggles would often escape Yoonoh whenever he felt a kick from your baby. The signs of life were what Yoonoh held onto the most, so when there was a particularly tough kick then he’d make sure to scold your baby for making you so uncomfortable, but secretly he loved feeling that they were growing well.

L ⇴ LABOUR

The two of you were absolute wrecks throughout most of your labour, whilst it went to plan, the emotions and the pain over the hours was hard for you both to deal with. Yoonoh was an incredible support for you, not that you expected anything less from him, but that didn’t stop him holding your hand and whispering plenty of words of encouragement through teary eyes with an incredibly fast beating heart too.

M ⇴ MORNING SICKNESS

It didn’t faze Yoonoh at all when you were sick, he didn’t give himself time to think about what was going on, all he focused on was being there for you. He had your hair out of the way every single time and would always be in front of you with a toothbrush and toothpaste straight away once you were finished as well.

N ⇴ NURSERY

Yoonoh loved decorating your nursery, he’d always make you sit in a chair so that you could fire instructions at him, but for all of the heavy lifting and building he’d take control so that you could rest comfortably.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with your smile and seeing how much you enjoyed pregnancy for the most part. Even through some of the harder times, you still tried to remain positive which left Yoonoh watching you in complete awe.

P ⇴ POST BIRTH

The care he had for you during labour continued well after it too, whilst he let you spend plenty of time with your little one, most other things were strictly off limits. Unless you need the toilet, he tried to keep you sat down and comfortably, happy to play servant for a few days so that your body had time to recover properly.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

If you had a grimace on your face, Yoonoh would immediately ask if something was wrong. You liked to try and do things for yourself, but as soon as he figured that you weren’t comfortable, he’d step in and ask the question straight away.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Yoonoh wasn’t the biggest fan of shopping, however when it came to shopping for your baby, he couldn’t get enough. The wardrobes were full with months to spare, and the nursery was overwhelmed with decorations that Yoonoh had found that he thought were far too adorable not to purchase for the room.

S ⇴ SCANS

Your scans were very much treasured by Yoonoh, he made sure to keep a photo in his wallet so that he always had it on him. When he was on the road especially, he’d take a look at the photo often and remind himself of all the incredible things he had coming his way, and what he was going back home to as well.

T ⇴ TEST

It was only when you showed Yoonoh the test after telling him that you were pregnant, did he believe you. His eyes stared at it for a long time before finally believing that you really were pregnant after all.

U ⇴ ULTRASOUND

He supported you through every single appointment, even taking the whole day off from work to make sure that he had enough time for you.

V ⇴ VISITS

Yoonoh couldn’t wait to introduce the boys to your baby, and after receiving numerous texts and phone calls in anticipation for the first few days, after a week in your bubble, you finally let them come round to visit you all.

W ⇴ WAITING

Most of the time Yoonoh was patient in waiting for your baby to arrive, making sure that he didn’t let the end run away with him and just enjoy the moment instead.

X ⇴ XXXX

There was never a specific time when Yoonoh would kiss you, you often just received random kisses throughout the day. It would usually be when he’d find himself smiling across at you with you blissfully unaware of his eyes watching you.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were the only one that Yoonoh wanted, the three of you were the perfect team.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Yoonoh would always make sure to keep you nice and cosy at night, he’d wrap plenty of blankets around you to make you nice and comfortable and often place one against your bump too to give it a bit of a lift and ease the strain on you.

---

Masterlist

[blitzturtles]

Title: Guilt

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders (set after Golden Wind, given Jolyne's age.)

Pairing(s): JotaKak, JoKa, (Platonic) Jotaro & Jolyne, (Platonic) Kakyoin & Jolyne

Summary: Kakyoin is in the middle of answering one of Jolyne's many questions when he feels something twist violently inside his abdomen. He tastes what he thinks might be bile at rist, but the metallic tinge registers, and,

Oh god, no. Not here. Please not here.

Notes: Involves emergency surgery, chronic pain, preteen!Jolyne, PTSD, disabled Kakyoin, and near death experiences.

-

Here's the thing: Jolyne hates him. It's not a secret, and it's definitely not something that she bothers to hide from him. Jotaro keeps swearing that she'll come around. Says she's just stubborn (like her father is, Kakyoin sometimes thinks with far too much affection for a man that regularly drives him up the wall). There's also the fact that she's a preteen, and kids are apparently just like that at her age.

Here's the thing: Kakyoin would hate him, too. If he were in her situation. He's petty on a good day, and a right bastard on any other. He can't imagine being in her situation. With divorced parents who, while amicable, are both ridiculously successful and constantly busy. And then waltzed in Kakyoin, right in the middle of it. Though 'waltz' is a bit of a stretch. He doesn't do anything like that with his plated spine and braced legs, but none of that matters. The real point is that he gets it.

He does his best to never push more than he has to. For the most part, he lets Jolyne do her own thing, because she's a Kujo and a Joestar. She's going to do what she wants anyways. His opinion be damned, though he does try to reason with her. Hell, he's given into bribing every once in a while. (Sometimes the means don't matter when father and daughter are both happy at the end of the day.)

In short: Jolyne hates him, and Kakyoin understands.

______

Here's the thing: Jolyne finds Kakyoin to be a nuisance. An interference. One more complication to an already complicated life, and she's only eleven. She wants her parents to get over their bullshit (language!) and figure out how to make things work. She wants Kakyoin to go away, but that doesn't mean she wants him dead. Or injured. Even if she did wish him off the end of a pier that one time. Still.

They've admittedly grown to be more friendly over time. She talks to him now, which is an improvement to the chronic cold shoulder she gave him before. Sometimes she even asks him for help, because her dad can be surprisingly useless when it comes to school work (weren't you in school when I was little?) He always seems happy to help, and he never gets as frustrated as her dad.

So maybe she doesn't hate him, but she definitely wants him to go away.

______

Kakyoin is in the middle of answering one of Jolyne's many questions when he feels something twist violently inside his abdomen. He tastes what he thinks might be bile at rist, but the metallic tinge registers, and,

Oh god, no. Not here. Please not here.

He doesn't need to know-- specifically-- what went wrong to know that he's dying. The moment the pain goes from barely tolerable to utterly agonizing is about when his brain lets him know that he's operating on borrowed time.

Kakyoin could have used that warning approximately five minutes ago. Before the pain. Before he found himself in front of Jolyne.

"I'm sorry," he tries to say, hopes the words come out audible enough for her to understand.

There are tears welling up in her eyes, and they fall soon enough. God, he's made Jolyne cry. She's so young. So unprepared. And she looks so much like Jotaro. With panic stricken eyes and fingers that grasp for something to do. Some way to fix this. It makes his chest ache beyond the twisting and shearing that his insides are already doing.

(She looks exactly like Jotaro, in the hospital after the Foundation managed to retrieve them. The way her hands fumble in the air is so much like how Jotaro had reached out desperately, trying to hold onto Kakyoin, in case those had been his last moments. Like father, like daughter, Kakyoin thinks without humor.)

His knees hit the ground first, and that shoots pain up his legs and along his hips. The rest of it ricochets and dies somewhere midway up his spine. It's a momentary distraction away from the agony that is his middle. He reaches with his fingers to press against his stomach, half expecting them to sink inward (into nothingness. There's nothing. Dio punched a hole right through him, and he's going to die.)

Jolyne is yelling. His name at first, then for her father. Again, he's reminded of the day he died. Maybe it's all been a dream. He's waking up now and the end is pressing down on him. The light will follow soon. He knows; he's seen it before.

"Please!" Jolyne begs him, "I'm sorry!"

He is, too. It's the last thing he thinks before his eyes slide shut and the darkness grabs at him greedily.

______

There's shouting and bright lights and something covering his face. He can't make out anything with his vision so blurry, but he thinks he hears Jotaro's angry voice booming what could be an entire room away.

"If you fucking put a finger on him that isn't necessary to keep him alive. I'll fuck-"

"Dad!"

Jotaro inhales sharply but nods to the surgeon one, final time, "His team is on their way. Not a goddamn finger."

______

The Speedwagon Foundation has several doctors that Kakyoin sees on a semi-regular basis. Each is a specialist in their own right, and they're the only reason Kakyoin ever made it home from Egypt. They're also the only ones that regularly work on updating all the augmented parts and maintaining the damaged remains of Kakyoin's organs. They know him inside and out. Quite literally.

The team makes it to the hospital long before Kakyoin comes out of emergency surgery, which means the whole process is extended significantly. The upside (if it could be called that) is that Kakyoin doesn't have to be put under again. The downside is that it means they'll be waiting awhile.

Jotaro does his best to be strong for Jolyne. It's his job as a parent to keep a calm façade and push his emotions to the side. She needs someone to be her reassurance.

He fails miserably.

______

The head of the Foundation team emerges some hours later, looking a little worse for wear. The stoicism past that does little for Jotaro's nerves. It tells him nothing of what to expect.

"Well?"

"He's stable," the doctor answers. "We had to take out several inches of colon this time. If I had to guess, he probably believed himself to be having a flare. He adjusted to the pain until he became necrotic." His expression shifts into an unpleased frown, "He also has two ulcers. Has he changed his diet? Or experienced any new stressors?"

Jolyne's lip quivered as she processed the doctor's words. She thought over every time she and Kakyoin had fought in recent history. Most of it being her yelling at him.

Jotaro's focus remains fixated on the doctor, "What the hell kind of pain is he still having?"

The doctor-- one Jotaro recognizes from previous visits but can't recall the name of-- sighs, "Kakyoin will only allow us to do so much to help manage his pain. I'm not his specialist in that regard, but it's at his request that he's kept on very little in terms of medication."

Jotaro knows that. He knows that Kakyoin doesn't like what stronger pain meds do to his head, but how out of control is his pain that he didn't notice that he was dying? That his body has been rotting from the inside out for an unknown amount of time?

Jolyne shifts further behind him, drawing his attention to her. It's the only thing that spares the doctor whatever response Jotaro might have otherwise formed. He turns to look at Jolyne and is startled by the tears already trailing down her round cheeks. Realization hits him then.

She's eleven, and he's an idiot.

"Hey, hey. Enough with that. He's going to be okay," Jotaro says quickly. He should have- called her mother or his mother or literally anyone. This isn't a conversation she needed to be privy to.

"It's me," Jolyne chokes the words out. Her thin arms wrap tight around her middle, and she looks close to collapsing on the ground.

Jotaro, admittedly, has no idea what she's talking about, "What's you?"

"The stress!" She practically wails.

Jotaro sighs and moves to wrap his arms around Jolyne. He tugs her in against his chest. "That- that's not the kind of stress the doctor is talking about," he glances over his shoulder to see that the man had already dismissed himself. Smart guy.

"I'm always mean to him!"

Jotaro wants to laugh. Not at all because he thinks her words-- or her suffering-- are funny, but because the whole situation feels unreal. He cards his fingers through her hair instead. It's all the comfort he feels like he can offer in a situation like this. With his own resolve teetering on the edge.

"Takes a lot more than that to take out Noriaki," he's lying through his teeth. The whole new family thing might damn well be enough stress, but he's never going to let Jolyne think this is her fault. It's not. Kakyoin is capable of making his own decisions, and being part of their family is one of them.

Jolyne crumbles against him despite the gentle words, so he scoops her up and holds her against his chest. Even at eleven, she's nothing compared to his size. He finds a nearby seat to settle into and lets her cry while he whispers promises he can't be sure he'll be able to keep. Eventually he tries distracting her with facts about dolphins, and that either has some effect, or she passes out from exhaustion. Either way, he's relieved when she snores against his neck.

______

Kakyoin comes to the waking world in a haze. His head aches and his middle feels a lot like it might have been ripped open again. He hopes that whatever happened had been a little more civil than that.

It doesn't take him long to place himself in the hospital. That's good. He isn't dead, and he's not immediately at risk of falling into enemy hands. The beeping to his left is annoying, and he can't see well enough to make anything out on the monitors around him. His vision tends to be the last thing to recover when he's been knocked out for a while. Still, he turns his head to continue to take in what he can make out.

He stops short when he sees two people in chairs on his right side, closer to the door. The familiar hat catches his attention immediately, not that he needs to be able to see at one hundred percent (or his version of it) to know that the man is none other than Jotaro. His size will always give him away before anything else.

Jotaro's head is bowed in a way that indicates he's likely asleep. He's undoubtedly been here awhile. Jolyne sits beside him with her head pressed against her father's bicep. Star Platinum is out and wrapped around both of them. He lifts his hand from Jotaro a moment to wave at him brightly, which is enough to disturb his user's sleep.

"Mm?" Jotaro grunts. He opens his eyes and sucks in a breath. He takes a moment to compose himself, which is fine. Kakyoin thinks he probably looks worse than he feels, thanks to the drugs. He would make a joke about it, but moving still hurts.

"Good to see you awake. How're you feeling?" Jotaro asks. He doesn't move from his spot, if only to avoid waking up Jolyne, but that intense gaze is evaluating all the same.

Kakyoin gives a noncommittal answer, and Jotaro snorts, "That's what I thought you'd say. Good thing we have this." He reaches for the little controller on the side of Kakyoin's bed. He presses the red button before Kakyoin can protest.

The glare he shoots Jotaro is relatively short-lived, and it's hard to be mad when Jotaro looks so damn triumphant, even if it's about something that Kakyoin has complicated feelings about. He decides to let him have this one, considering the fact that he's pretty sure he gave them all one nightmarish scare.

"I'm sorry," he says after a while, head lulling back against the pillows. His red hair spreads out all around. It's longer now than it ever has been, but he hasn't felt the need to cut it beyond a simple trim in years. It doesn't matter, but it gives himself something to focus on rather than the gnawing guilt.

"Don't be."

"I- god, I never meant-"

"Kakyoin."

"If I had known, I would have left the room or-"

"Kak-"

"She was so afraid. And she-"

"Noriaki," Jotaro snaps more than says the name, but his eyes are soft. "You aren't the only one that made her cry in the last few hours, so you're not special." That's not true. Kakyoin is incredibly special, but he needs to make some kind of light-hearted comment before he starts crying. Nobody needs to see that.

"Still," Kakyoin mumbles, but he doesn't continue.

Jotaro reaches out with Star, who clasps his large hand over one of Kakyoin's. He wants to lean forward himself, but he doesn't want to wake Jolyne up. Not yet.

Kakyoin turns his palm up to tangle his fingers together with Star's. He brushes his thumb over the stand's, knowing Jotaro can feel it reflected on his skin.

"I really thought it was a flare," he says after a while, because he feels like he owes some sort of explanation after everything.

"Nori, I really can't tell you how much I don't give a damn about that," Jotaro frowns at his own words, "No, I mean- I care, but- fuck." He scrubs his hand over his face a few times before trying again, "You don't have to feel guilty for this shit, okay? I should have noticed you were in pain."

Kakyoin shakes his head. He squeezes Star's hand to make sure Jotaro's listening when he speaks, "It's not your fault. I deal with this pain all the time. It just- at first it felt like a flare, but I guess I got used to it." And every time the pain worsened, he acclimated until it had nearly killed him.

Jotaro doesn’t get a chance to respond before Jolyne is rustling against him. She opens her eyes a crack and reaches up to wipe at them with her fists. “Dad?”

“Right here,” Jotaro grunts in response. He squeezes her shoulder gently, then retracts his arm to give her space to stretch out. “Kakyoin is awake.”

He watches the fog clear from her eyes. They widen as she processes his words, and her attention immediately turns to the redhead, who waves meekly at her.

“Jolyne, I’m- oof!”

Star quickly gets his hands around Jolyne’s waist, suspending her in the air enough to keep her weight from falling too heavily onto Kakyoin. He lets her down carefully, and the youngest Kujo looks sheepish for her overreaction.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” Kakyoin says, curling an arm around her loosely in return. He hadn’t expected to be nearly tackled upon awakening. That went doubly so when considering Jolyne as a factor. She’s never hugged him before. Trauma is funny in that way; something he knows from first hand experience.

Jotaro steps up behind her and offers a small smile to Kakyoin, “We’re glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah!” Jolyne echoes, “You scared the shit out of us!”

“Jolyne,” Jotaro’s voice is gruff. An attempt at a warning that falls short. The way his lips pull further upward is a dead giveaway that he isn’t particularly upset by her language usage.

“It’s true!”

“Good grief.”

Kakyoin snorts at the father-daughter duo, relieved to see the two smiling again. Already bickering as per usual. There’s too much snark trapped in the Joestar bloodline, and it always amplifies whenever there’s more than one of them in a room. He’d know, having been on the road with Joseph and Jotaro in the past.

Somehow the back and forth settles into Jolyne rambling about dolphins. She regurgitates facts that-- for the most part-- Kakyoin already knows, but he feigns shock and awe at all the right places to keep her spirit up. It’s more healing to watch her babble emphatically than it is lying around in a hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. It eases some of the guilt, makes him feel lighter.

Eventually, Jotaro whiskers her out the door. Kakyoin catches sight of Holly, which must mean that Marina is tied up. Holly doesn’t come in, likely at her son’s behest. The woman is a mother through and through, and she can be a bit overwhelming at times. Better to focus all that maternal energy on Jolyne for now.

“You look tired,” Jotaro says when the door clicks shut behind the two. He takes his spot back next to Kakyoin’s bed, pulling his chair as close as he can. His knees grind against the railing of the bed a bit, but the distance allows him to lean forward and get a good look at his partner.

“I could say the same about you,” Kakyoin points out with a raised brow. He still can’t pick up his head for more than a few seconds at a time, and his vision remains fuzzy around the edges; a likely side effect of being drugged to the gills, but he isn’t blind. He can see the bags collecting under Jotaro’s eyes. Exhaustion-- emotional as much as it is physical-- already weighing his shoulders down.

Jotaro snorts an unamused sound, “I’m not the one that just had emergency surgery.”

Kakyoin winces at the reminder. “I’m-”

“If you finish that statement, I’m going to give you a reason to be sorry,” he isn’t. Jotaro won’t hurt him, but the words make Kakyoin close his mouth anyways. For a second.

“Oh, and how are you going to do that?”

Jotaro stares him down for a solid thirty seconds, expecting him to back down. When he doesn’t, the man pushes himself to his feet with an exasperated sigh. “Good grief, c’mere,” his fingers hook under Kakyoin’s chin, and he leans down to press their lips together.

As far as life affirming kisses go, it’s one of Jotaro’s more gentle ones, but Kakyoin feels the thrill of it chasing down his spine anyways.

“I love you,” Kakyoin murmurs as they break apart. He wants to add an apology to the end, but he bites his lip and keeps it to himself for now. He’ll find a way to make it up to Jotaro and Jolyne later.

“Love you, too, Tenmei.”

[tsuumu]

saw that requests were open and😳😳 how ab fluffy best to lovers with iwaizumi or suga? like they are best friends and seem to always be touching each other in some way like hand on waist or knees touching etc. and confession happens and maybe... just maybe... kiss... if this doesnt fickle your pickle or you feel uncomfortable then feel free to ignore! your writing is great thank you for considering🥺🥺

hi anon, thank you so much for requesting! i’ve been doing requests when i feel like them (apparently 4:28am is the perfect time to start drafting this in my mind) so i apologise for how late it is!

i’ve also decided to split this into two parts, the first being sugawara and the second iwaizumi! i love rambling about cute conventional plotlines like this so there was no way both wouldn’t be excessively long put together.

part two will be linked here when i get round to it!

enjoy!

y’know, people actually do wonder if the two of you are somehow joined to one another in some bizarre manner. it’s practically impossible to see either of you away from the other for an extended period of time. and it’s not creepy, or weird. it’s ridiculously wholesome. they only enquire because both you and koushi take that classic ‘best friend’ trope to a whole other level. 

it’s sweet. sickeningly so. 

we’re talking after-school dates at the prettiest little cafe just off the side of the main road. it’s barely a ten minute walk, not that you’d notice seeing as the time is filled with consistent, care-free conversations between the two of you. koushi practically begs you to come with him whenever you’re free. you’ve both dubbed it your super secret spot, since other students don’t come so often or probably even know it’s there. his teammates ask him from time to time, where exactly the two of you go. it’s usually because you’re chortling amongst yourselves about some passage of prior conversation, or beaming unanimously over the sheer deliciousness of the pastries there, made fresh. 

but koushi never tells. oh no. he wants it to be ‘our spot’ as he likes to call it. you think he’s just being funny and poke his arm whenever he mentions it, agreeing jokingly that he’s not allowed to take anybody else there but you. 

you needn’t worry, he wouldn’t dream of it. 

he’s always early when you do go, waiting for you by the school gates. and it’s crazy, the wave of comfort that washes over you the second you lay your eyes on the boy, it’s something you can’t experience with just anybody. 

you have had your fears when it comes to finishing your third year, since your sights are set on finding employment deep in the heart of tokyo, koushi on the other hand, prefers the domesticity of the urban life. he’s perfectly at home where he stands. and you love that for him, you want him to be happy, truly, but the thought of having to bid the boy farewell seems incomprehensible. like you’ve offended yourself for even contemplating the prospect.

no, you’ve never actually brought up the subject with him. it’s a little early and all too much to say out loud. plus, what if you do and he’s completely nonchalant about it? you’re practically dreading the months as they pass, wondering if sheer luck will allow your friendship to continue with such potency whilst he’s totally oblivious and dismissive when you do get round to it! oh, god. you hate it. you hate that you’re overthinking the entire thing.

you know you’re short circuiting over something so pointless, trains exist, you’ll have the funds and means of transportation... but is it? losing someone who fills your day up is like losing part of yourself. you can already imagine what it’d be like alone, going to other bistros and constantly comparing them to that one. and how lonely you’ll be. how desperate to tell him everything that happens to you. how work goes, if you’re feeling homesick. you know he’ll call you often because he cares too much not to, which you’re thankful for, but it’s not the same. he won’t be here, he won’t be there to touch you like he does now, to keep you safe.

a gulp later and you’re totally fixated on the warmth koushi emits. you’d be grieving without it.

“lost?” a light brush of your forehead rids you of your thoughts. 

“hm?”

he’s lightly plucking at the strands of hair hovering above you, focusing briefly. there’s a small speck of dust that’s been caught. after a few unsuccessful attempts, he manages to get it out. 

well he mutters that he’s unsuccessful, but really, he’s finding inconspicuous excuses to feel how soft your hair is against the back of his palm.

“lost you for a second there.” he replies, before shifting back, blowing the dust from his fingertip. “everything okay?”

you feel so regretful daydreaming about him in front of his face, and it’s not even that, it’s the fact you’re with him right now, right this moment. you know that time is slipping and yet you’re wasting it mulling over pessimistic thoughts of the future. 

“mm. i’m alright, sorry. thank you, by the way.”

“don’t thank me.” he picks up the dainty little cup and you study the floral patterns carefully, you recognize this one. well, you’re familiar with most of them now. if one would ever end up breaking, you’d probably know, since they’re so unique in their respective decorations and there’s only a few. koushi is extra careful with it, free hand slotted under the base of the cup. it’s elegant. he’s pretty when he drinks. 

actually, you were thinking about all of that because he’d brought up graduation, his match with against shiratorizawa had gone down splendidly, no doubt even he was shocked they’d made it to nationals. koushi had often lamented to you about being karasuno’s substitute setter, though he admires kageyama plenty and knows what was best for the team. he’s awfully good at putting others first, even if he really wants to play. that’s what you’d concluded. soon after nationals, comes the end of the academic year. too soon, way too soon.

that awful feeling rises up again. 

his hands stretch across the table, gently engulfing yours, and it’s lovely, really, how comfortable you are with one another. how instantly calming he is. 

“you’ll come to watch us play, right?”

“i always come, silly. i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

you’ve never seen him so happy.

the evening he rushed to you straight out of the coach, breathless, telling you they’d won. it was like he was able to shine even brighter than he already did. and for a moment, you looked at him—really looked— and you wished you could’ve captured that moment, in all its glory, forever.

koushi. too good to be real, aren’t you?

you are listening, you swear to god you are. everything he says processes but realisation is eating you alive. you don’t think you can live without him. oh, you sound so flimsy, so pitiful and maybe you are. destably so. you’re too selfish for your own good.

but he’s still holding onto you, still careful with his grasp, but with the way his thumb skirts ever so gently across the ridge of your hand, he has no intentions of letting go just yet. you don’t want him to. you’d like to stay like this a while longer.

but it’s late and he’s exhausted from practice, especially now he’s doing twice the amount for nationals. he insists that even if he isn’t on the main roster, he’ll be needed. a team needs absolutely everybody to function properly.

so when he pays for you yet again, chair scraping slightly on the wooden planks of flooring to leave, your heart is caught in your throat, drenched in feeling like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him.

of course you follow him out, politely thanking the old lady who runs the cafe on your way. his feet are planted just steps away from the entrance, gaze to the sky, a flurry of darkness and escaping slithers of light. of course he’s smiling. 

part of you wants to hit his arm, ask him how he could possibly be relaxed, stretching his arms lime that when you’re on the verge of losing it. but he hasn’t looked at you yet. when he does, he’ll know. 

it doesn’t vanish, that affability that accompanies his grin, even when a look of concern is etched all over his face. it’s still so radiant. koushi doesn’t know how to be unkind. but he knows how to blind you. 

“why are you crying?” 

there he is again, thumb smearing at the tears that’ve barely slipped. you’re crying without realising. you were fine moments ago but now you’re sobbing so hard it’s difficult to breathe out. there’s nothing empty about it, they’re infuriatingly real, like you’ve already lost him. like he’s walked down the road, waved to you one last time and died. 

suddenly there’s a million things you want to say to him, and another three years won’t be near enough to get them all out. 

it’ll be too hard to explain over text, or call, too late too.

“ko-oushi..” you tremble out, and he knows you won’t be able to explain. he’s okay with that. just forgive yourself for now and he’ll walk you home. you don’t like to cry. you cry a lot but it never gets easier. he doesn’t mind, though. he likes how big your heart is, even if you insist it’s awful. what does worry him, though, is that someday someone might mistake it for weakness. you don’t deserve to know what true heartbreak feels like.

 so, his hand’s in yours, consoling you like one would a child, always dabbing at those tears and telling you things will be alright. koushi knows that you’ll tell him when you’re ready, especially if it’s something that’s upset you this much. 

“i don’t want to graduate.” is all you think to come up with, which is a blatant lie. you do want to. all you do is talk about how much you do, but you don’t want to graduate from him.

his response is a little tentative at first.

 “why?”

“because.. i’ll go away. i’ll go far away and i’ll miss you.”

he’s deathly quiet, it’s terrifying.

“and if i miss you i’ll keep missing you until i can’t stand it anymore, koushi.” you ramble on, utterly humiliated that you’re confessing just how deep your dependency on him is. but you can’t stop. you don’t have time to. “i hate life. i hate that i can’t see a future without you. i don’t want to drag you back or control you in any way but god, i think i need you.”

you’re not quite sure what this is. is this.. a heated tangent, a sob-fest to a confidante, a guilt-ridden confession from an obsessive maniac? you hadn’t actually thought about what you wanted or would gain from telling him all this. perhaps it’d been bottled too long, longer than you were conscious of and this was the only resort left to release it. he’ll probably end up hating you by the time you’re done strangling out the last few words, deem you insane and ask you to seek some sort of professional help, knowing him, he’d help you find it.

it doesn’t matter. you’re talking and talking and talking, tripping unattractively over phrases and you have no intentions of stopping. not even to breathe, not like you have been anyway. you can’t even look at him whilst you parade yourself like this.

that’s alright with him. he really loves the sound of your voice. 

he’s listening. he swears to god he is, but all he can think about is how happy you’ve made him. how he’d never leave you lonely.

but how could he ever convince you? unlike you, koushi isn’t the best with words. he’ll nod for hours and hours as you pour your heart out over something, and still come up empty. really, he doesn’t know what he wants either. he has ideas of the next few years, but he hasn’t even addressed the fact you’d be absent in all of it. you don’t know it, but he’s so used to you he’s practically filled you into his future automatically.

still, you’re talking, not too sure what you’re even saying anymore. and neither does he if he’s completely honest, but he’s too fond of you to mention it.

but he does it. he places his hand on the nape of your neck and kisses you.

he promises it’s not to be rude, or because he’s not interested in whatever it is you’re trying to say. but because he’s wanted to do this for ages. would it be overly dramatic to say the first time he lay his eyes on you? maybe. it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

oh, god. he’s really kissing you.

he’s sweet tasting and nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. and believe you, you’d thought about it quite a bit. the way he’d feel against you. you’d never admit to anybody that you’d fantasied about this, feeling his tongue flutter over the seam of your mouth, hands dipping gently into the flesh of you as he tightens his hold on your waist.

why couldn’t you have accepted earlier you were fucking head over heels for him?

and of course he likes you back! he calls you his! he takes you on dates and touches you and has eyes for only you. how thick were you?

it’s alright.

at least you’ve gotten there eventually.

though a few months too late, you’re kissing him in the middle of your hometown, and he’s whispering against your lips that you won’t be losing him anytime soon.

[desperationandgin]

Strawberry Wine - Chapter 13

Title: Strawberry wine

Also Read On: AO3

Summary: Claire attempts to find Jamie while the war rages on and eventually ends.

A/N: Thank you so much for everyone’s patience while I finished this story! At one point I wasn’t going to, but I had an incredible support team that cheered me on. Without all of my betas, I would be nothing. The gorgeous mood board is by @veryfaintveryhuman​ and I am SO GRATEFUL. It’s beautiful, thank you!

Chapter 13: Like Leaves in the Fall

When the war ended and the fighting was over, I had no idea whether or not Jamie was alive.

What I did know, as I took stock on a train to Scotland, was that my uncle was dead, and I was alone.

Losing Lamb had been a blow to my heart, but I didn’t have the luxury of time to process the grief and sorrow while in the midst of saving lives. The telegram I’d received simply said he’d died in his sleep, and within the span of a single sentence, my last piece of family was gone. No more messy-but-organized flat to visit in the wake of my uncle’s retirement. No one to lean on as I recounted the horrors of war. When I woke from the nightmares, there would be no one to smooth my hair until I was calm. I had no one left in the world who loved me.

I had no one to help find the other half of me.

After losing contact with Jamie, each letter I’d sent to Lallybroch remained unanswered; nothing was ever returned. All of my letters were simply gone into the void—the same place prayers went to die when no deity bothered to listen.

Everything had gone to hell in July 1943. The night I left with a trio of Americans to help an understaffed unit five miles away.

I’d been sure the order from the commanding officer had been to leave in the morning at first light, but I was, of course, outranked by the soldiers escorting me. We’d left an hour after sunset and hadn’t been on the road more than eight minutes before there was an ambush, gunfire, and a fireball of explosion. I never could remember anything that happened after the initial blast. When I’d woken up, I was told I’d been in and out of consciousness for two days, and in that time, had been taken by truck to a field hospital twenty miles east of my own unit. Travel between the two camps had since become a blown-out, impassable mess, with no other way to get back. I wrote to Jamie as soon as I could, but with everything so chaotic, I felt before I knew that something was wrong.

I wrote each Sunday for a year to the last address I had for him, even if it was the final, bleary-eyed thing I did before collapsing that night. Some weeks it was only a sentence. Something simple.

I miss you.

Other weeks I poured my soul out to him, weeping over the paper until the ink was so blurred that even if he received it, he wouldn’t have been able to make out half the words. I began writing to Lallybroch, and my alarm ran deeper when there was no response from anyone at all. I had the phone number and attempted to call when I had the rare chance, but the operator could never connect. I felt helpless, and so I threw myself into helping others, trying to send as many boys and men home to their families as I could.

The last letter I’d sent was posted a month before the end of the war (though I hadn’t known it at the time) and was the first I’d written in a long, long while. I’d mailed it to Lallybroch, for no other reason than because I had no idea where else Jamie might be in the world.

I asked you to promise something impossible. I won’t ever believe you broke that vow to me, James Fraser. Not until I see proof with my own eyes.

You are not gone.

If you were, I couldn’t exist. So you must be out there, somewhere.

Now, the war was over. In the life we’d dreamed, we would have been settled with children by now. At least one or two. All of those nights dreaming felt like distant memories; plans two young lovers made before they’d ever stepped into the reality of the world.

How had we ever believed that our fantasies were untouchable?

I was going back to Lallybroch in the hope of discovering what happened to the Frasers. My heart ached for Jamie to walk out of the front door, healthy and whole, surprised to see me but eager to explain. Even knowing that wouldn’t be the case, I couldn’t have anticipated reaching his home only to find…nothing.

I knew something was wrong the moment I pulled into the drive. There was no smoke rising from the chimneys, there were no chickens roaming the yard. Getting out of the car (Lamb’s; now mine), I could see that the fields in the distance hadn’t been plowed, there were no animals grazing. I stumbled my way to the front door, recognizing the curling orange foreclosure notice for what it was before I could even make out the words.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ…”

It felt as if someone had wrapped their hands around my heart and squeezed. I touched the fading paper and realized it’d been there for some time, then turned to sink slowly onto the front steps. I couldn’t fathom what had happened to cause Brian Fraser to lose the home his ancestors built in the name of love, and my mind raced with possibilities. The main question was where everyone had gone, and I knew my answers wouldn’t be found by sitting still. I left the property and drove into Broch Mordha, parking on the street and walking until I found the quaint little bookshop Jamie and I had enjoyed ducking into once or twice.

“Hello?”

A creaky old voice responded, and the proprietor, Mr. Gowan, made his way around the corner. I remembered him, a retired solicitor with a love of literature, and the way he smiled at me seemed to indicate he recalled me as well.

“Miss Beauchamp, was it? Oh aye, to be sure,” he answered for himself. “I hardly thought I would see ye here again with the Frasers gone from the land.”

It seemed we were cutting right to the chase, and I was eager to avoid small talk. “What happened? I haven’t heard anything in...years.” It hurt to say it aloud, to acknowledge that all of the time I was supposed to have with Jamie was slipping by.

Ned Gowan’s eyes went the sort of soft that meant he was to be the bearer of bad news.

It was in that dusty little shop that I learned of Brian Fraser’s death. He’d been at the plow when he collapsed. A stroke rendered him unable to speak or make final arrangements before he died, and so Jenny had been left to find a way to stay afloat—during a war, no less—on her own. She’d done the best she could, letting go of the farmhands who couldn’t go to war, first, then selling off livestock. Eventually, the burden became too much, and she’d been forced to take what she could stuff in a trunk and leave the rest behind.

“Do you know where she went?” I asked, my voice thick with unshed tears.

Ned reached over, patting my hand softly. “That, I cannae be sure of. I ken she stayed with the MacNabs for a spell after her father died, though she isna there now.”

“Do you know what happened to Jamie? Did he come back?”

At my questions, Ned simply squeezed my hand and shook his head. “I’m sorry, my dear.”

For a moment, I simply held onto him, attempting to come to terms with the fact that Jamie had never returned home while my stomach tried to force its way up my throat.

The end of the day saw me no further than the start. The elderly Mrs. MacNab, while kind, hadn’t kept up with Jenny. With the mouths of children and grandchildren alike to feed and keep track of in a small, two-bedroom home, she’d lost the forwarding address. She assured me that when Jenny left she had at least seemed to have a plan, though she had no idea where Jamie’s sister might have gone.

In the days that followed, I spoke to various locals and realized that no one else knew, either.

I hit the final wall in trying to track down Jenny when I couldn’t locate her cousin, Jared. Leaving Paris had likely been the safest decision for him, but with everyone moving constantly during the war, nothing was familiar anymore. No one was where they were supposed to be.

I didn’t know where to go, and so, I went back to Lallybroch.

It was dark when I arrived, but the path to the river hadn’t faded from my memory. I knew, even in the faint moonlight, which branches to shove aside and could almost imagine Jamie ahead of me. As I broke into the clearing and the sound of water blended with the evening insects, I realized I’d been holding my breath with some sort of final hope that he would be there, reaching his hand out for me.

When I finally exhaled, it was on a sob as I sank to my knees.

He was truly gone.

Likely dead and buried somewhere I would never know. The war had chewed us all up and spat us back out in pieces, scattered and lost. I ached and cried, not only for Jamie, but for Jenny, Ian, and Brian, too. So much had been taken from us, and I wept for it all. I had no idea how long I laid there even after the tears stopped, curled in on myself in the mud. When I finally rose, I sat on the bank of the river, slightly damp, and watched the sky turn pink with the dawn of a new day.

I had to find a home on my own now.

Alone.

Over time, I slowly pieced together a life that was more or less what I’d told Jamie I wanted to do the first night we’d met. I took my skills as a nurse to places with little access to medical care, did what I could, and stayed as long as I felt necessary before moving on. My life hardly felt the way I’d thought it once would; I enjoyed helping others, and the call to take care of those in need was enough to motivate me each day. But I felt as if I were a spectator, watching the weeks, months, and years pass by in slow motion.

When my travels took me to North America, I eventually caught wind of a hospital in Boston looking to hire a dozen or so nurses. I’d thought about it for a long while, whether or not I should stop someplace and finally settle. I’d never longed for something permanent before, not until Jamie had put it into my head that we could have a life together, at Lallybroch.

Boston was about as far from the Scottish Highlands as anyplace else; an entire ocean stretched between what I yearned for and what I wound up with. I put all of my time and energy into the job, and even made a friend or two as I tried to put the war and life before it behind me.

But Jamie’s ghost wouldn’t go so easily.

He guided most of my decisions, the voice in my head that battled my doubts. When I debated whether or not to apply for a head nursing position, the voice in my head that whispered you’re just as capable as any other person at this hospital sounded suspiciously like Jamie, and I decided to try. He became my backbone when I stepped into an interview room full of men. When I was offered the job, I couldn’t deny my happiness at the accomplishment, and my colleagues at the hospital celebrated me in a way that was kind and genuine. But as I marked the time passing and settled into my career, I knew I had come to a point where I needed to let Jamie go.

Moving through life with a constant ache hurt too badly, and I’d never let myself accept that he was truly gone. If I was going to say goodbye to him, it needed to be done properly. That was why, five years after last receiving a letter from him, I took a trip to Scotland to leave a message in a bottle.

3rd of September, 1949. Come find me, Jamie.

When that fateful day finally arrived, I watched the sunrise from the front steps of Lallybroch for what I knew would be the last time. The sky was blue and birds were chirping, apathetic to my sorrow as I walked the property. I found the old, rusted truck that had taken us everywhere that summer, the back-half of it gone. We’d carved promises into one another in the bed of that truck, made love and held one another while we gazed at the stars. Looking down, I pressed my thumb against the faded scar before walking toward the front of the home. It still looked as sturdy as ever, but with no life within, the entire structure seemed dull, as if even the stones had given up.

I decided to make my way to the river through the woods knowing that if Jamie had found my note, that’s where he would think to look for me. I paused for a moment to gaze back at the house, finding his bedroom window. There was only broken glass now, and I closed my eyes, a quiet tear rolling down my cheek. I could still picture the first time I’d ever seen him perfectly: shirtless in a kilt, a bale of hay slung over his shoulder as easily as if it had been a bag of feathers. It wasn’t fair, that we’d only had a summer, that my soul had tangled itself with his in a way that was forever knotted. I would say goodbye today, but I couldn’t fathom finding another love like this in my lifetime.

To be frank, I didn’t know if I believed another love like his existed.

Looking up at the window again, I remembered that first night we made love, how warm it’d been. I’d stood in the window naked while we talked, welcoming the evening breeze as we’d made plans to escape to the water.

My only warning that the world was about to tilt on its axis was the soft crunch of gravel underfoot behind me. It was light enough that I didn’t bother to turn and see what made the sound. And then, suddenly, I felt as though I were in free fall.

“...Sassenach?”

The word (my name on his lips), unheard in years, made my heart skip before every ounce of air left my lungs. I turned my body slowly, but stared down for a moment before finally raising my head, afraid that I’d heard nothing at all.

He was there, standing straight and tall, staring at me in slack-jawed surprise.

Jamie was alive and whole, and it was the last thought I had before the world went black.

[sweet-rintarou]

Glee filled Suna throughout the time he was getting ready. It was finally the day that he could get the story straight and hopefully, reconcile with you, going back to when you were in junior high school. Despite the team lunch, he knew that this would hold more importance, as this was something that had been eating him alive all these years. He had always felt intensely guilty over what he had done all those years back, and he didn't know if you would ever forgive him for it. Today was the day.

He spent the entire morning preparing his explanation, rehearsing the words in the mirror, and predicting your responses in case he worded it improperly because he knew that was how you were. No matter what front you had placed upon those outside of your friendship, he knew that you were sensitive about this, especially since it took place at such a horrible point of your life.

He couldn't imagine how it would be if he were in your shoes. Your one friend that you'd constantly confide with had disappeared from the face of the earth at the same time your parents decide to separate.

Once he had assured his teammates, Suna officially got ready and headed out to where you were supposed to meet him. Upon arriving to the place, he informed the baristas that he was waiting for someone and ordered himself an iced latte as he'd wait. He had sat down by the window, in hopes that if he saw you before you noticed him, that would give him time to mentally prepare for the last time. I don't want to screw up, not again.

Over half an hour. He waited for you over half an hour, and there was absolutely no response. If he had to be honest, he was growing a bit annoyed. Of course he doesn't want to, urging himself to think rationally and assume that she has other things to attend to before meeting but because of the lack of information from your end, it was beginning to annoy him. And people keep staring at me wondering why the hell I'm alone. The stare were causing him to grow agitated with the situation at hand.

Opening the chatroom you both shared, he began to angrily type.

Can't believe you hate me so much to actually ghost me, y/n. I'm trying to be fucking mature here, but you're making it hard.

His finger closely hovered over the send button, instant regret washing over him as he erased the chat and locked his screen. I need to calm down, he thought, fuck.

This isn't like you, his thoughts wondered, eyes fixated on the people walking pass the cafe. You've always been a punctual person, and reasonable at that. Even during junior high, you feared being late despite the fact that the punishments given to those tardy were never too harsh. It's unsettling knowing that I wasted time, you once told him when he asked why you'd always rather left too early rather than too late.

But then again, it had been six years since he last you, and for all he knows, your habits might've changed. You could've grown to be more responsible, and mature, knowing well enough that people do come and go, and maybe during the six years he was gone, you made yourself believe that statement and that those that left will never come back.

Maybe she has forgiven me, but doesn't want anything to do with me, he thought bitterly. The thought caused a surge of disappointment rush through him, a sigh released before he informed his teammates.

"Hey man, here's some steak, I'm sure you need it," Kuroo tried to comfort him once he slid himself onto the seat beside the middle-blocker. Suna only rolled his eyes.

"So, tell us about the girl," Bokuto insisted, Suna and Atsumu sharing a glance, the blonde shrugging, serving no help for the brunette.

"She's someone I knew from junior high, we were supposed to meet to catch up," he told his senior, deciding to change up the story to prevent further questioning. Detecting that Suna was being vague with his answers, the two seniors dropped the topic and shifted towards those of the upcoming games Ushijima had already discussed with those present. A while had passed, the thought of you leaving Suna's mind for a second, allowing him to not dwell on the embarrassing episode he had to endure by leaving the cafe alone, when a text popped up.

reconnecting | r. suna smau

masterlist | previous | next

—chapter thirteen; stood up

author's note: next chapter will be fully written ^^ hope y'all enjoyed.

taglist: @akaaaashit @chaelysian @onlyskitz @missalienqueen @todobruhski @heyitzwolf @shroom-berry @laughingismorefun @sunatin @sempiternal-amour @mizukisonoda @simp4satori @sandwitchsthings (send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist)

[otheliame]

28?

I hope you guys don’t mind I combine your ask into something spicy? :) For this ask meme 

This takes place after they deal with Kuro but before they destroy the Castle (pretend it makes canonical sense)

...

Lance has had it up to here. 

It’s one thing for Keith to constantly run into danger without any clear exit plan, or backup, or fuck all else, but it’s quite another thing for him to do this. In fairness, he’s always been this way, even before he left for the Blades, Lance knows it. He doesn’t think he can feasibly change how Keith operates as a person, but he sure as hell isn’t gonna let this fucking slide, either. 

Lance would have gotten to him first, well before the rest of the team in fact, if he hadn’t gotten sidetracked by those Galra. It didn’t take long for him to get there, but by the time he finally arrived Keith was already surrounded by the others. He didn’t even look in Lance’s direction, too caught up in the battle plans being made for their next step, like he didn’t almost fucking-… he almost- 

So, with some serious effort, Lance bit his lip and bided his time. He waited for what felt like hours, waited for his opening, waited for Keith to excuse himself, and as soon as he did he made some bullshit excuse and went after him, steam practically hissing from Lance’s ears. He’d had enough of this selfless bastard acting like he wasn’t important enough to be kept safe, like he isn’t Lance’s whole fucking world. He’d lost him too many times to count, but after this stunt? Enough is enough. 

He manages to catch up to him just outside the containment chamber. He bangs open the door to announce his presence and right as Keith turns towards him with those stupid wide eyes, like he’s shocked to see him there, he slams his palms against the wall by his head and shouts, “What the hell was that?” 

Keith had gotten taller since his trip to the Quantum Abyss, and Lance doesn’t care for that shit at all, especially in this instance. Before, in this position, he’d have several inches over the other to look down at him with the true fire of his gaze, but now, Keith’s the one with the few inches on Lance… but he doesn’t let that deter him. He’s got shit to say.

Keith’s brows furrow and his jaw sets as he glares back at Lance indignantly. “What are you talking about?” 

Just like old times, Keith and Lance, neck and neck, at each other’s throats. 

Lance throws an arm dramatically to the side, gesturing back from hence they came, “That stunt you pulled, splitting up Voltron to go after Shiro!”

Keith sighs dismissively, making Lance bristle like an attack dog as he attempts to brush the raging Red Paladin aside, “Now is not the time, Lance-” 

Lance shoves him in the chest, hard, so hard that Keith stumbles back and slams into the far wall with a surprised gasp as he stares at him with utter shock from the blow. Lance closes the distance and grabs the front of his armor, pointing a finger in his face and shouting so maybe the fucking point might get into his stupid fucking skull- “You can’t keep doing that, man! That might be how you guys do things with the Blade, but not while you’re with us! Not while you’re our leader!” 

Keith grits his jaw and grabs Lance’s wrists in an attempt to get him to let go, “I didn’t choose to be-” 

“That’s right! The Black Lion did. We did.” Lance’s fingers dig into the material of his space suit to keep them from trembling, “I did.” 

Keith’s gaze meets Lance’s and there’s an intense moment of silence held suspended between them like a coin balanced on a wire. Finally he presses forward and snarls, glaring at Lance with antagonistic daggers, “What’s your problem?” 

Lance’s hands stall only for a brief pause as his brain stammers itself into motion. “I’m fucking pissed at you, dude! Because… because you left us.” He can’t keep the betrayal out of his voice, the hurt, the undying rage. “You keep leaving us like you think you’re… replaceable, or something, but you’re just not, Keith!” Keith grits his teeth and shifts again to break out of his grasp and in response Lance smacks his armor back against the wall, rattling him as he spits out, “You almost died! You could have died! I can’t fucking take that from you, I can’t let you just-… just-!” 

He has to stop. His words begin to warble and he can feel he’s slipping someplace dangerous, his voice cracks as he grinds his rant to a halt. 

Keith isn’t having it, however. He presses against Lance’s hold on him with an exasperated sigh, “What do you care?”

Lance sparks like a firecracker, his fingers hurt from their eternal hold, “What do you mean why- Because I care about you, you fucking asshole! I’ve always cared about you, but no, you’re too fucking-… I don’t know, emo, broody, whatever to think about how your actions affect people around you. How they affect me.” Lance’s voice cracks but this time he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He’s shaking with self-righteous fury, he can barely keep himself from trying to throttle Keith’s stubborn ass where he stands pinned against the wall, so he forges on with burning flame spitting from between his teeth, “I can’t do this without you! When you left for the Blades, it was horrible, not knowing if you were dead or alive- You never called, you never sent word, not even a, a- una jodida tarjeta de felicitación! The only way we knew if you were alright is when you would join those calls with Kolivan! But then you just had to sign up for that fucking mission and no one knew what happened to you and I thought you were dead-”

Keith’s eyes are wide as Lance goes off like a loose cannon, with a soft voice he tries to interrupt him, “Lance-”

“But then you just fucking show back up out of nowhere, like you weren’t missing for a month, taller and all grizzly with an Altean, a dog, and your mom and act like that’s not important enough to talk about because it’s not the mission-”

“-Lance-!” 

“-and then you run off to chase after Shiro, alone, like you always insist on doing and I-I just can’t fucking take that from you, Keith! I can’t fucking take it, you’re gonna be the death of me! I’m constantly worrying about whether or not you’re even alive and you don’t even care that I’m going to drive myself fucking crazy because I fucking care about you, you pequeña mierda-”  

Suddenly Keith manages to wrest himself from Lance’s grasp while he was distracted and grabs his wrists, before Lance can even take a breath between his biting words Keith whirls on him and shoves him against the wall so hard his armor audibly slams, making the room tremor with the rattling sound. Keith gets close to him, astoundingly close and Lance’s voice finally dies in his throat, tapering off and trembling as his red-rimmed eyes flicker across his features, and then to the side, to his wrists pinned on either side of his head where Keith holds them. 

Finally Keith growls, his breath hot against the exposed length of his neck, “Shut up.” 

Before Lance can open his mouth to argue, to tell him to fuck off, to fucking listen to him for once, warm lips capture his and the planets seem to snap into alignment with the violence of an earthquake. His breath catches as Keith presses closer to Lance, but otherwise he doesn’t move, his breath is baited like he’s waiting for the ceiling to fall in on them. 

Something in Lance surges, white-hot and burning, and this time when he grabs the front of Keith’s armor he yanks him forward with desperation, choking on the remains of his words as fresh lava bubbles on his lips and into Keith’s. 

The intensity in the atmosphere lights like a match. Keith’s breath catches and he presses Lance’s wrists harder against the wall, his lips parting in the exchange of hot air between them as he nips mercilessly on Lance’s lips. Lance gasps immediately, his skin flashing with pulses of heat and seized with need his hands rip from Keith’s instead to drag into his stupid mullet, Lances weaves his fingers through the abyssal hair he’s wanted to bunch his fists into for years and now he’s following that desire as far as Keith would let him, until it breaks him, dios, he wanted it to break him. When he tugs on the onyx locks Keith smirks, the proximity sweltering and smothering him in his armor as Keith responds in kind, his hands moving now to Lance’s sides, beneath the breastplate of his Voltron armor. Keith’s teeth mark and notch Lance’s bottom lip, Lance swears it’s about to bleed from the rigor, he disengages from Keith only long enough to pant, to complain or to plea for more he isn’t sure, “You’re so fucking rough-” 

“I said shut up.” Keith snarls in response, sealing his mouth back over Lance’s and drowning his voice by the skin of his teeth. For once Lance complies, balling his unyielding fists into Keith’s hair to pull him against him harder as his eyes roll into the back of his skull and Keith matches him in kind, his hands dig into his sides and tug him against his chest until they’re flushed, no space for anything but their pants and wants. Lance feels Keith’s hands invasively drag downward as his lips move in the same direction, suddenly with Lance’s mouth free from the abuse to gasp instead when Keith’s latch onto Lance’s pulse. He bites with harsh intent to bruise him, mark him, and Lance has never felt so fucking alive. Lance yields beneath him with wordless, gasping pleas, when Keith tugs on his thigh he obediently wraps his leg around his waist, his head falling back and resting against the wall as Keith sucks out his soul through his trachea like a vampire. 

His face bursts with roses when Keith’s lips travel to his jaw, demanding more skin and more of Lance as his hands travel up and down his sides invasively, full of nothing but desperation to the point that Lance gasps his name against his better judgement, “K-Keith-!”

Keith’s hands move then, up his chest, over each notch in the white, pearly surface of the armor before they reach his throat, his jaw, where they cup him with ferocity but undeniable gentleness, it makes Lance quake. When he opens his eyes he meets Keith’s and for a moment his lips fall open to press back in but something stops him, perhaps the cautious light in Keith’s, or the hesitancy of his thumb brushing against his chin. Finally, when Keith speaks, it’s soft, a complete and polar opposite to the rash and abrasive grabs and touches from before, “I didn’t… I didn’t know that’s how you felt.” 

Lance can’t help it. The rage was almost forcibly ripped from him, leaving him nothing but vaguely giddy and breathless like a broken vessel, he lets out a harsh, untested chuckle, “Was that revelation before or after you started sucking on my throat?” 

Keith sighs, that annoyance flickering back across his face for a brief moment before he touches his nose to Lance’s. It’s soft, gentle, yielding, and Lance leans into it without question, feeling strangely light and elated like a balloon. Keith’s voice shrinks as if from itself as he murmurs softly, inches from Lance’s aching lips, “Did you mean it?” 

Lance doesn’t know specifically what he’s referring to, but his response is the same regardless. “Every word.” 

Keith’s eyes slowly slip shut, his breath deepening as he catches it in recompense to the amount that Lance stole. He knows that there’s nothing more he can say. And frankly… he’s already said enough. Lance pulls his attention back to him with a demanding hum, pulling his hand on Keith’s chin to make the violets in his eyes bloom for him, “Now you gonna kiss me again or what?” 

Keith raises an eyebrow at him in surprise, his fingertips drag through the fringes of Lance’s hair as he murmurs, “This isn’t too fast?” 

Lance snorts and shakes his head with another dry laugh, “No. For me, you’re about a year overdue.” He adds on with another laugh as he rests his forearms on Keith’s shoulders, “I would’ve yelled at you a lot sooner if this is what would’ve happened.”

Keith looks at him for a long time, the cautious light extinguished and giving away to a wanting darkness that makes Lance wanna see the moonlight within. Slowly, Keith smirks, he grows closer as he mutters in a husky undertone, “Funny… it’s been about three years for me.” 

Lance groans, letting his head fall back against the wall as he snaps, “Seriously? Still trying to one up me? I thought you were supposed to have matured or something while you were-”

“For fuck’s- shut up.” Keith growls again with that same domineering tone that’s beginning to make Lance’s knees weak, Keith once again seizing his wrists again to pin against the wall. As Lance takes a small breath Keith’s teeth brush his Adam’s apple as he snarls, “I liked you gasping my name a lot more.”

Such a gasp escapes from Lance as the space between them vanishes, leaving nothing in the air but distant, curling smoke and conjoined voices, aching for each other.  

[rejectofsociety]

I just thought I would post my BlackCat!MJ x Peter Parker one shot here, it’s also on Ao3. It’s kinda long. 

And warning: Major Character Death

Hope you enjoy

Michelle often got the feeling that her boyfriend was hiding something from her. Maybe it was the so-called midnight walks he constantly took, or how he would run off and disappear without a trace whenever a siren went off. Did this concern her? Yes, constantly. Did she have any idea what he was hiding? Absolutely not. The only thing she did know was he wasn't cheating on her. How did she know this? She just did. Peter was loyal and they had been through hell and back together. There was no separating them. Even their jobs took place side-by-side within the Daily Bugle headquarters— Peter as a photographer and Michelle as a editor. Neither made a lot of money, as a result Michelle took on a night job which had provided them with enough money to buy their own home.

Michelle sat with her legs draped over Peter's lap and her arm around his neck as she littered his face with gentle kisses. He would connect their lips anytime hers wandered too close to his as his hand stroked her leg lovingly. They wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even themselves, but they truly needed each other. Every moment they had alone together, they would hold each other close until it was uncomfortable. Then, they'd adjust positions and hold each other a little longer.

"You know I could give you everything," Michelle said as she turned her head away from her boyfriend, "a bigger house, a nicer car, lots of money."

"MJ, you are my everything. I don't need a bigger house or whatever," Peter said as he rested his head on her chest.

"Hm, I just got the taste of cheddar in my mouth," Michelle replied.

"Oh shut up," Peter chuckled as she ran her hands through his hair.

Michelle smiled warmly at him and closed her eyes lightly. She felt him land a tender kiss on her collarbone, making her exhale a joyful sigh.

"Can you go back to kissing me?" Peter requested.

She barked a laugh, "ha! No, I don't think I will."

He looked up at her with pleading eyes, "please?"

"No," She replied and slid off his lap, "I'm hungry."

As she turned to leave, Peter stood up and rested his hand on her waist. He let a mischievous smirk spread across his lips as she lingered in his touch.

"I got something you could eat," Peter offered slyly.

"Ooo," Michelle purred, "I see how you wanna play."

"Only if you're up for it," he hummed.

"Tempting, but I haven't eaten all day."

Peter quickly let go of her and stepped back, "MJ! Please, eat!"

"What's in the fridge or..."

"What's in the fridge," Peter waved her off, earning a laugh in reply.

He shook his head at her then picked his camera off their coffee table. As she fished through the fridge, Peter sat on one of the barstools at the island positioned in the middle of the kitchen. He flipped open his laptop and popped the memory card out of his camera.

Michelle looked over her shoulder at him as he uploaded his photos onto the computer and smiled to herself. He was definitely the best thing that had ever happened to her, considering the fact that she never knew her father and her mother died when she was twelve. Even though she and Peter were hardly friends at the time, he still reached out to her and kept her company, making sure she was never alone unless she needed to be. That's when she realized she liked him. It may have taken a few years for him to return her affections but, when he finally did, it was everything she had hoped for and much more.

She wanted to marry him, she just needed a ring.

As she sat at the barstool next to his with a yogurt cup she had retrieved from the fridge, Michelle looked over Peter's shoulder and watched as he uploaded his photos onto the computer. He scrolled through countless photos of Spiderman, the Winder Soldier, Captain America (or the Falcon, at this point it hardly mattered), and more as he ignored several notifications for emails.

Spending time together never got old. Even when they argued, were too upset to speak, or one slapped the other across the face, they couldn't help but be happy to just be aground each other. Their arguments had grown less and less frequent over the years once they both started to realize a simple truth: they couldn't fight over every little thing that bothered them, their relationship couldn't survive like that. It may seem like an obvious solution, but Peter was pretty sloppy and had ADHD while Michelle had been very upright with OCD— not always the best combination when it came to living together. Especially when she'd spend an hour showing Peter how things had to be organized only to realized he had been staring and a bug on the ceiling the entire time. It took a while, but they managed through it and now it was just another day in the life.

"Don't you have an article to be editing?" Peter asked after a while, "or is staring over my shoulder a part of your job?"

"Oh yeah, it's the most important part," Michelle replied, hardly joking, "I even get paid."

"Oh really?"

"Mhm. Two kisses per hour."

"Hm, not good enough. Four an hour," Peter decided, craning his neck to look into her eyes, "I'll even pay upfront."

"Gimme," Michelle wrapped her arms around his neck eagerly.

Peter chuckled in response and sealed their lips in a sweet kiss.

———

Peter gazed at his girlfriend for a few beats as he stood in the doorway of their bedroom. Michelle looked like a goddess with the way she laid, her body draped gracefully across their bed. She needed a few hours of sleep before 11:30 struck and she was forced to drag her ass to her night job. Peter could be laying with her, but he had other matters to tend to.

Peter quietly paced across the room to her and leaned over, lightly brushing her cheek with his lips.

"I'm gonna go on a walk," Peter whispered by Michelle's ear.

"Do you ever sleep," Michelle murmured groggily in response.

"I'm an insomniac, you know that," Peter smiled softly as she lazily waved him off.

That much was true: insomnia was something he had struggled with since he lost his uncle. His lack of sleep was something that had only worsened as time dragged on. With the "Endgame" mixed with the death of Tony, Quentin and his illusions haunting Peter's dreams, and his aunt's passing just over a year later, rest was rare. Thankfully, was learning to live with it and could function almost as well as a normal person with eight hours of sleep.

Peter walked out of their house then retreated into the depths of the city. He turned a corner and ducked into an alleyway before reaching under a dumpster, flicking a small lever, and releasing his Spiderman suit from its compartment. Keeping his superhero life a secret from his girlfriend probably wasn't the healthiest thing for their relationship, but it was for her safety. If anything were to happen to Michelle, Peter couldn't live with himself. Fuck, he couldn't live. Loosing her would me the last straw, he was already on his last leg.

Now, one might wonder "what about Ned?" And Peter would reply with "Fuck Ned." Their friendship had come to an abrupt, harsh halt after a series of events and shouting matches neither cared to relive.

Then came the question "what about the Avengers?" Peter's answer: "what Avengers?" They weren't really a "thing" anymore. Bucky and Sam had remained close friends with Wanda playing the role of third-wheel/basically Bucky's unofficial daughter. Carol sometimes checked in but not very consistently, plus she was often occupied with her relationship with Valkyrie. And Valkyrie was occupied with being the king of New Asgard. Thor was who knows where and no one even knew if he was still alive. T'challa had no interest in  being in a team, much less funding one. His sister, Shuri was someone Peter had always wanted to meet, but the stars had yet to align. The Guardians of the Galaxy hadn't spoken the heroes of earth since the "Endgame" and no one blamed them. Doctor Strange wanted nothing to do with Peter— nothing more needed to be said there. As for Rhodes, he had officially retired a year ago. The physical and mental wear had gotten the better of him, and (despite his hesitation) he stepped out of the suit for good. He and Peter were fairly close, so that's one person who would miss the young man if he were to die without Michelle.

There was Pepper and Morgan (who was now fourteen years old), but much to Peter's regret, he hadn't spoken to them since Tony's death. He really didn't have a reason anymore, but at first he simply couldn't bring himself to look into the eyes of a mini Tony. The wound of his mentor's loss was too fresh. But he wasn't the only one avoiding the gaze of a mini Tony. Pepper had a hard time looking at Peter for the same reason he couldn't look at her daughter. Because of this, the almost-family had lost contact. And when they finally did consider speaking, it seemed like it had been too long, like they hardly knew each other anymore.

What about Happy? Well, when May fell ill and died, so did Peter's friendship with Happy. They hadn't spoken since.

So Peter's isolation had been his own fault, and something he constantly regretted. But he had no will crawl back into the arms of what could have been a loving family. He had everything he could ever need with Michelle and sometimes Rhodes.

Peter, now dressed as Spiderman, perched on top of a billboard as he scanned his surroundings, "Karen, what time is it?" he asked.

"10:30. And if your sources are correct, there's a major sale of illegal weapons taking place in half an hour," Karen replied.

"Yep," Peter hooked his legs over the edge of the board and leaned back until he was hanging upside down, "and I should be able to wrap that up in time to see Black Cat."

"You seem to be quite fond of Black Cat," Karen observed.

"She's my only friend outside of MJ," Peter replied, "I mean, we're not friends friends. We just get along well and-"

"You refuse to do your job right when she's in the picture."

"Hey! That's not- who programmed you to say that?" Peter couldn't help but be offended by that, even if it was the truth.

"It was Rhodes’s idea," Karen answered, "who else's could it be?"

Peter chuckled, "no one I guess."

"Do you like Black Cat?"

"She's cool to hang out with. But if you're suggesting that I like like her, then calling you Artificial Intelligence would be a massive overstatement."

"I wasn't suggesting that," Karen somehow managed a defensive tone.

"Good," he replied shortly as he sat up right and readjusted his stance, "now let's get in position for this weapons sale."

"Would you like me to activate instant-kill?"

"NO! I thought I disabled that!"

"Well you didn't."

"I- ugh. Just stop it with the instant-kill."

He huffed and stepped off the billboard. Shooting a web to what his Spider-Sense told him was a safe platform, Peter launched himself through the cool, night air. As he glided through the city, he allowed himself to get lost in thought. He knew these streets all too well, swinging through the sky was as easy as breathing or walking. It wasn't something he had to think to hard about.

———

Michelle awoke abruptly to the Brooklyn Nine-Nine theme song blasting in her ear. She yelped in surprise and jolted upright, her hands frantically searching for her phone. Finally, her fingers brushed the cold box and she was able to shut off the alarm.

"Damn you, Peter," she hissed to her absent boyfriend, "that is the last time I let you pick my alarm."

Sighing and stretching sleep out of her body, Michelle tossed her phone onto her pillow then stood up. She unlocked and opened her suitcase and withdrew a skintight, black, leather suit. It covered everything below her collarbone and fit her perfectly.

After stripping down and redressing in the suit, she headed to the master bathroom and took out several makeup products plus a flowing, silver wig. For her night job, she  went heavy on the makeup. She had to. She'd make her skin look a shade lighter (she hated doing that), her facial features would eventually appear narrower, then she'd tuck away her curls underneath her wavy wig. To top everything off, Michelle placed a sleek mask over her face. It didn't cover much, but it was mostly to distract anyone who might recognize her eyes. Sure she could use colored contacts, but those made her eyes itch and dry up. Besides, she liked her mask.

I'm going to propose to Peter, she thought to herself as she slipped out a window into the shadow of her neighbor's house. I just need a ring. That means jewelry-store-I-can't-remember-the-name-of— you are my first victim.

She carefully traveled in the shadows until she reached the depths of her city. She sprinted across roofs and leapt with the grace of a cat from one building to another. Normally I go easy on Mister Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman, but if he tries stopping me from getting this engagement ring I will beat his ass to the ground.

Usually, she would think of engagement rings as a waste of money, and marriage as a social standard. But this was Peter fucking Parker she was talking about. In her mind, he deserved the world and the world didn't deserve him. He deserved a proper proposal with the perfect wedding (and how ever he defined a perfect wedding was up to him). She felt kind of gross with how much she loved Peter, no one had ever made her feel this way before. Everyone else she had been with was no more than a fleeting infatuation or a brief fling. Peter was her first boyfriend she had cared to be with for longer than a few weeks. He was the first one she actually loved to the point that thinking about not being with him made her feel physically ill.

Here we are: best place to get an engagement ring.  She thought happily as she landed elegantly on top of the jewelry store she always forgot the name of. Thankfully, the store was closed so she didn't have to worry about running in to an employee. But, this store had one hell of a security system that wasn't easy to avoid. Unless you had a friend who worked their and you knew the store inside out. Like Michelle. She had stripped this store clean of jewels and diamonds several times; she knew exactly how to get in and out without getting caught.

It was really quite simple: there was one corner of the interior that the security cameras didn't glare down upon, from there she could duck behind a counter and slip into a utility closest where the electricity box was kept. Then, she would shut off the box, making her presence seem to be no more than an unfortunate power outage. An unfortunate power outage that would shut off their security system and result in jewelry stolen.

Michelle hummed to herself as she browsed the collecting of rings with her hands folded neatly behind her back. Despite the deep darkness, she could effortlessly make out each individual hoop and their little diamonds. Her eyes bore down into the gems as she paced back and forth, picking up a few random bracelets and necklaces to satisfy her twitchy, kleptomaniac urges. She decorated herself with emeralds and rubies, knowing she'd be selling each one later for much more than it was worth, as she waited for a ring to capture her attention.

"I figured I'd see you here," a voice spoke from behind her.

Michelle whirled around to see none other than Spiderman standing with his arms crossed, "not a good time, Spider," she hissed.

He shrugged nonchalantly, "never is. But either way, I can't let you steal all of that."

"But I look amazing in it," Michelle flipped her silver hair over her shoulder and jokingly posed like a model, "you can't tell me otherwise, and you know it."

"Mm, true," he unfolded his arms, "but you could at least pay for it."

Michelle swiftly snatched an elegant ring whose gleam had caught her eye and slipped it her finger through it, "let's get this over with."

She swiftly paced across the small store and roundhouse kicked the man in the side. Hardly budging from his sturdy stance, Spiderman snapped his hands around her ankle and rapidly slammed her onto the ground. Gasping in pain as all the air in her lungs was sucked out, Michelle found herself frozen and stunned.

"There, we got that over with," Spiderman stated smartly, "now, I should probably turn you in."

"Not today, Spider," she spat.

She hopped up and raked her claws against his rock hard abs then punched him in the stomach with full force. Spiderman groaned sharply as he keeled over, keeping one hand clasped tightly over the bleeding wound. Michelle smirked in satisfaction. She had cut a bit deeper than she had intended to, but she could live with that. Whether or not the spider could live with that was a different story.

Michelle smirked and knelt down to be eye level with the hero. Her smirking eyes bore into him as she rested on hand on his knee. She could practically feel his frustration radiating off him, and she could tell his pain forced his eyes to squeeze shut.

"See you later, Spider," she purred with her silky voice.

"Fuck you," he grunted.

"Thought you said you have a girlfriend," she smartly retorted then sank her claws into his leg, earning a cry of pain, "good luck getting home."

With that, she wiped his blood off her hand and onto his suit, then stood upright. Stalking past him, she silently begged him to get home safe and see his girlfriend so she could tend his wounds and they could hold each other tightly.

As Black Cat hurried into the darkness of the streets, Peter called after her one last comment, "I let you have this one!"

With a deep breath (as if breathing could wash away the pain), Peter stood up shakily and shot a web at his leg as it oozed crimson blood. The goop stung the open wound violently, but it was worth it to assist in closing the gash. He managed to spit another wad of webbing onto his stomach and hissed gingerly. I'll be fine in a few days, but I'm lucky she didn't cut any deeper.

Before he could sigh in disappointment at his failure, an alarm blared in the distance. Rushing out of the jewelry store with an evident limp, Peter hurried to rescue and capture the separate thief.

———

Michelle yawned and stretched as she sprawled out on a random roof, a satisfied smirk painting her lips. It was about one in the morning now, meaning she'd get to go home soon. For now, she just needed a little breather but in a few minutes, she'd be curled up in Peter's strong arms as he stroked her hair lovingly.

"Sold it all ready?" A hero spoke.  

She sat up to gaze upon Spiderman who had noticed her lack of jewelry, "obviously."

Michelle pat the ground next to her and Spiderman gladly sat down next to her, "that ring you took... was that an engagement ring."

"Yep, sold that too," she held out her hand, showing that the ring was gone. But she didn't sell the ring, it was now safely hidden in her pocket.

"Ah. I figured," he smiled under his mask, "it made me think of my girlfriend," Michelle beamed warmly and crossed her legs, giving him her full attention, "I think I'm going to propose to her."

"You think?"

"Well, no," he chuckled and Michelle couldn't help but admire how fondly he spoke of the lucky lady, "I know I'm proposing. She deserves the world, and the world doesn't deserve her," he rubbed the back of his neck, "I just hope she says yes. Marriage isn't normally her thing, y'know?"

"I do now," Michelle chuckled, making the spider chortle quietly in response.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the sounds of the city. Cars quietly roaring across the road, the occasionally honk of a horn— even early in the morning, Queens, New York was a restless city.

Michelle looked over at her spider friend as curiosity struck her bones, "hey, Spider?"

"Hm?"

"I know basically everything about you."

"Well, yeah. We've known each other  for years."

"Yeah, but there's one more thing I wanna know."

"What's that?"

"What do you look like? Like... can you take your mask off for me?"

Spiderman hesitated then choked out an anxious laugh, "you really wanna see that ugly-ass mess?"

She tilted her head to the side and nodded, "yeah. I'm sure you're not that bad."

He groaned, "ugh, I am."

"Well at least I'm prepared now," she gave a lopsided smile, "c'mon, I don't judge."

He took a deep breath, calming his jittery nerves, "alright, although I feel like this isn't a good idea."

"Show me your ugly face and I'll show you mine," she offered then flipped her hair with enough sass for the spider to touch, "actually my face is pretty hot, but you know what I mean."

"Wish I had your confidence," Spiderman laughed then gripped the edge of his mask.

The two went dead silent and Michelle squirmed with anticipation. Her heart fluttered in excitement while his palpitated in anxiety. He carefully peeled the mask off his face, letting his matted hair spring free.

The moment her eyes absorbed his soft features, Michelle's heart stopped in its tracks. She swallowed thickly and felt her lungs constrict violently as she recognized the young man before her.

She opened her mouth to choke out "Peter?" yet no sound came out. Peter looked away in embarrassment and fidgeted with the mask in his hands. I've been dating Spiderman for ten fucking years.... Michelle tried desperately to understand her situation as dismay rest heavy in her chest. Betrayal and fury towards Peter keeping such a secret flared up inside her. She clenched her fists, and for a brief moment she had the undeniable urge to slit his throat and end his life.

"So," Peter sheepishly spoke, defusing Michelle's violent instinct, "can I-"

He was interrupted by yelling and a cry for help in the distance, "I need to take care of that."

She opened her mouth to speak yet no words came out. Slightly embarrassed by her silence, Peter put his mask back on and turned around. Michelle watched him swing away until he was out of sight. Then, she ran like hell.

———

After sloppily washing away her makeup, removing the wig, and throwing the suit on the ground, Michelle collapsed onto her bed with her heart racing and tears threatening to fall. She had no idea what emotions or thoughts were racing through her confused mind.

"What is happening, what is happening, what just happened!" She rambled to herself.

Her heart was racing in panic as she raked her hands through her disheveled hair. But before she could be thrown into a panic attack, a quiet ding announced a new text and she scooped her phone into her hands.

Silver Sable: hey kitty, just got a job and I think you can do it for me

Michelle: not a good time

Silver Sable: please? It'll be a piece of cake

Michelle: What is it?

Silver Sable: Kill Spiderman

Michelle clapped her hand over her mouth and choked back a strangled cry of despair. Silver Sable was not only her closest friend (save Peter), but an anti-hero/villain-assassin-fore-hire badass that Michelle admired in every way. Turning her down was never an easy task.

Michelle: No

Silver Sable: oh c'mon. Don't be like that! I know you guys are friends but this is for a shit load of money. You can keep half of it

Michelle: I can't

Silver Sable: fine. 75% of the bounty

Silver Sable: Just think about how many times he's fucked us up or fucked up our colleagues. How much better our lives are going to be without him!

Michelle: Horrible! He's my boyfriend!

Silver Sable: Perfect! That'll make killing him even easier

Michelle: No! I'm not killing him and neither are you

Silver Sable: are you seriously choosing the life of some long-term booty call you had a crush on in high school over the lives of your best friends, colleagues, and family when you had none,  PLUS your career  and everything you've worked for your entire life?

Silver Sable: I thought you were better than that

Michelle: ...

"Who're you texting," Peter asked as he walked into their room.

Michelle's entire body jolted and she dropped her phone into her lap, "Jake from State Farm."

"None of my business," Peter smiled tiredly as he sat next to her, "my bad."

She briefly flashed a wavering simper yet found herself unable to make eye contact with her boyfriend who she wanted to desperately to marry just that morning. Now, she was unsure.

As she lay in Peter's arms with her eyes closed lightly, she couldn't shake off Silver Sable's words. Eventually, Peter's protective touch and comforting warmth had Michelle drifting off into an unsettled sleep while his exhausted, insomniac eyes remained gazing down at her body. Just like everyday at two in the morning when Michelle was fast asleep while rest rejected Peter's body, the young man found himself thanking the universe for the perfectly imperfect woman laying in his arms. Thank you for her, he praised nobody in particular, she's the best thing that's ever happened to me.

———

The next day, it was about nine in the evening and Michelle had just finished making dinner for herself and Peter. She had hardly spoken all day and as much as Peter worried, he learned over the years that when she got like this, it was best to leave her alone. She was most likely upset about something and she would confide in him when they lay in bed together in a few hours. For now, he'd merely smile his heartwarming grin, and hold her tightly every chance he got.

What Peter didn't know (aside from his girlfriend being a thief) was Michelle had been feeling sick to her stomach all day. Whether it was a stomach bug or the guilt that had been weighing on her all day, she had no idea. Either way, her mind hadn't wandered from the night before. There was too much for her to absorb calmly: her boyfriend was Spiderman, they were enemies, and he wanted to propose. And she wanted to propose. And Silver wanted her to kill him.

Michelle finished plating their meals, set the dishes on a counter, then turned around to grab silverware from a drawer. Peter stood up from his seat at their tiny table then grabbed the plates from the counter and set them on the table nearby.

"The one on the left it yours," Michelle spoke, suddenly and shortly.

Peter knit his brow but nodded anyways, "as you wish."

Dinner was silent and tense. Michelle's mind was racing as she watched Peter with every bite he took. Peter pretended not to notice her stare, although it made him mildly uncomfortable. It was like she was preying on him, waiting for something to happen but he didn't know what. How could he know when she had said roughly four sentences all day?

Michelle forced her last bite of steak down her throat then set her plate off to the side. Peter looked into her foggy eyes and frowned worriedly.

"You look pale," Peter observed as he reached across the table and held her hands tenderly.

Michelle glanced at him and stood up, "I need some fresh air."

Peter mimicked her motions and nodded, "let's go for a walk then."

She nodded stiffly and slid her hand into Peter's as they walked out the door with their coats. The sky was already dark, seeing as the sun had set hours ago. The night air was brisk and refreshing against their tense skin. Peter held Michelle's paw tightly with one hand while the other fidgeted anxiously with the ring in his pocket. It was his aunt's ring and she had left it behind for when Peter found the "right one." And Michelle was, without a doubt, the "right one."

Little did he know, Michelle's free hand was fidgeting with a ring as well. The one he had tried to stop her from steeling the night before. However, she felt like she should wait to use it. Maybe save it for tomorrow. Maybe the day after. Maybe never.

Suddenly, Peter stopped in his tracks. He was pale as the moon that shone through the clouds that fogged its view of the earth below. Michelle paused and looked down at him; he was trembling like an aspen leaf in the wind.

This is it, Michelle thought as she took a deep breath.

His legs gave out and he keeled over on one knee, his eyes wide and glassy, "M-Michelle..."

It's finally happening.

His gasped and coughed violently, crimson blood spurting from his lips. Michelle could only stare down at him as his expression twisted into one of terror and agony.

No turning back.

Pain lit up inside Peter like fireworks light up the night sky as he grit his teeth and shut his eyes tightly. He collapsed on all fours and choked for breath, only to be stopped by the blood pooling in his throat and oozed out from his parted lips. Tears trickled down his cheeks as Michelle knelt down. She knew she couldn't help him, but she could at least stroke his cheek lovingly as he writhed in pain. She gnawed on her lower lip until it bled too stop herself from breaking in to uncontrolled sobs.

Seeing Peter groaning and crying in pain as he choked on his own blood was almost too much for her to bare. Her stomach twisted into tight knots and she vision blurred with salty tears. She gathered him in her arms and let him gasp her sleeves and jeans, his blood dripping from the corners of his mouth to stain her shirt.

"Peter Parker," she spoke, her voice trembling and cracking, "I love you. I love you so, so much I can't even explain it. I can just feel it. I can physically feel it. A-and I am so sorry."

She clutched his body tightly, begging for his pain to end as she buried her face in the side of his neck. She felt his panicked pulse against her cheek as he cried out on last time, letting out all of the air and life in his lungs. Peter's body froze for a moment, tense and seeming almost unsure of death, then he relaxed completely. Michelle held his corpse tightly as she sobbed, her entire body shaking. She kissed his neck over and over as its warmth disappeared like the ghost he now was.

"I didn't wanna do this," she cried, her voice tight with despair.

She wailed and screamed into the night, teardrops streaming down her cheeks like rivers.

———

"So," Silver Sable purred silkily, "did you do it?"

Michelle, her cheeks red and eyes puffy, sat down at the barstool next to her friend. For a few beats, she couldn't find her voice so she stared at the bar around her. There were only a handful of people there, plus the two bartenders.

Finally, she nodded slowly, "yes," her volume hardly matched that of a whisperer.

Silver beamed proudly and pat her back with her powerful hand, producing a hallow thump, thump, "well done, Kitty! I'll need to show my employer his body— where's it at?"

"It's at my house," she murmured hoarsely, "we can stop by later."

"I'm so proud of you!" Silver squealed, "I'm so glad he's gone! Aren't you?"

Michelle swallowed thickly and stared at the counter in front of her. Eventually, she managed to shake her head 'no.' She was still trying to process what she had just done. She was so unfathomably empty, it was like she had gotten her soul and happiness sucked out of her body. And in a way, she had.

"Don't be like that, Kitty," Silver nudged her playfully.

"But... I loved him," Michelle managed weakly.

"You'll get over it soon enough," the assassin rolled her eyes, "let's start with a round of drinks. Y'know, to celebrate."

"Ah yes," Michelle heaved a sigh, "let us celebrate the long-awaited death of... of my spider."

Silver suspired as she shook off her excitement to recognize her friend's despair, "come here, Kitty," she wrapped her arm around Michelle and pulled her close, "you're the toughest chick I've ever met. You'll get through this."

Michelle stayed quiet. Her words were far from adequate, but that was about as sincere as Silver got. The metallic scent of death mixed with Peter's coffee-and-bagel scent was still lingering on her clothing. It filled her nose and clouded her mind until all she saw was the whiskey glass that had just been placed in front of her. I just ruined my own life, huh?

"Trust me," Silver reached for her glass, "you did the right thing."

[jenoptimist]

you go back in time to try and make things right

Arguments between the two of you wasn’t anything new. There has always been petty arguments which would inevitably end with the offer of tea–black tea for him from you if you were in the wrong or a fruit tea for you if he was. Except this time the argument is bad. Worse than ever before and you don’t even know what started it. No, that isn’t fair. You know that it’s because of the stunt that you pulled earlier. But Doyoung is overreacting!

There was no way you were going to just stand there and watch him get torn down by the monster of the week. So what if you were been hurt? It wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t heal your own wounds with magic. Plus lifelong silver scars are better than a future without him. And besides, did he really think you were just going to stand there and do nothing? Even if it wasn’t him that was going to get maimed, you would have done it regardless. At this point the rest of your friends have bets regarding on whether or not you would pull some sort of stunt whenever it’s time to face the big bad.

“You’re always doing shit like this!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,��� you retort sarcastically with a roll of your eyes, “I didn’t realize I was supposed to stand back and watch you die!”

“I would’ve handled it.”

You scoff loudly. “Handled it? You call standing there and waiting for it to hit you handling it?”

None of your friends intervene as Doyoung continues his rant furiously. They stand surrounding the two of you, ready to react if the situation were to escalate but doing nothing to diffuse the situation. However the more he speaks, the angrier you get. Is it so hard to accept that you saved his life? That, hey, maybe you actually like him being alive and that it’s okay to need help every once in a while. You guys are a team, a family, for crying out loud. Or is it only okay when he’s the one doing the life saving acts?

“You know what?” He spits, tone taking on finality, and you’re sure that for as long as you’ve known him, you have never seen him this mad. “This is all your fault. We’re running around risking our lives all because of you!”

The fire in his eyes and the way he says it is enough to make you take a step back. Surely he doesn’t mean it. The reason why he said it is because he is in the heat of the moment–but no matter how much you try to make up excuses for him, you know that it’s was true. Everything is all your fault. It doesn’t matter that they have never said anything to you. There has always been suspicion lurking in your mind that they all blamed you for getting them involved in the supernatural world. Of course Doyoung is the one who ends up confirming your hunch–he’s always been good at that.

“Doyoung.” Taeyong warns, his tone firm, as he takes a step forward.

The said man redirects his gaze sharply towards him. “No, Taeyong. You all know it’s true. Don’t even try to deny it.”

The moment you see Yuta about to speak, you know you have to end the gruesome argument. “You’re right,” you say quietly, looking Doyoung directly in the eye. “It is all my fault and I’m really sorry.” And with that, you spin around and head straight for the exit, making sure to avoid everyone’s eyes. Fortunately Johnny, Yuta and Taeyong’s apartment isn’t too far from the one that you share with Jaehyun and Doyoung. After the night you’ve had, you figure that the walk back would do you some good.

“Hey, wait up!” Jaehyun’s beside you in a few seconds, quick to match your pace.

“Alright, spit it out.” The silence was comfortable but you know with the way he keeps glancing at you from the side of his eye that he’s bursting with want to say something to you.

“Nobody blames you, you know.” You purse your lips in response, knowing that it’s untrue. “No, really. Doyoung was just tired and worried.” All of you are tired. It’s hard trying to keep your community safe while you all juggle college, part time jobs and maintain hobbies. You don’t bother saying it to Jaehyun, though, just keep silent as he continues to speak. “I’m sure everything will be fine! Before you know it, you and him will be doing that weird tea exchange you guys always do.”

That statement is enough to pull a small huff of laughter from you accompanied by an eye roll. “I hope so.” You reply, opening up your apartment door.

“It will. Just you wait and see.”

*

Doyoung doesn’t go home that night. 

In fact, he doesn’t come home for the rest of the week at all. When he eventually does, however, everything is different. The two of you avoid each other and when that isn’t possible neither of you spoke to one another. It constantly makes you feel horrible that the rest of your friends have to divide their time between the two of you and you want to apologize to Doyoung but his words hurt. No matter how true they were.

“Hey Mark,” you call out as he’s aimlessly highlighting a paragraph on his very expensive college textbook. When he hums in reply without looking up from what he’s doing, you continue. “If you could take back being involved, would you?” That has him dropping his highlighter, head snapping up towards you with a clear look of confusion.

Despite his confusion, he still gives your question some thought. “Well I mean it can be inconvenient; my grades tanked for a while and it sucks knowing that I might die whenever we go hunting whatever it is that we’re facing,” you nod empathically, “but no. I don’t think I do.” Mark eyes you suspiciously. “Why’re you asking?”

Shutting your book closed, you shake your head at him. Mark is the last person you have asked this question and all the answers you have received are variations of the same thing he said. Twisting your mouth, you say a goodbye and leave the room determinedly. You are going to fix this. It won’t be easy but there is a spell you found that could help you reverse this whole situation. The risks involved aren’t too big, nothing you aren’t used to already, and if this is what it takes for the bone deep exhaustion and unnatural haunted look to disappear from your friends then it will be worth it.

So, yeah. Everything is not fine. But you’re going to make sure that it will be.

*

It takes a week before you decide to put your plan into action but only because of the new situation that popped up. The wendigo is taken care of immediately and then all of you go out for some celebratory pizza like you almost always did. It stings that Doyoung takes the furthest seat away from you, refusing to meet your eyes ever since that night, but you assure yourself that by the end of the night everything would be sorted. They will never have to deal with this type of stuff again.

“What’s with that look?” Johnny asks as he nudges your side with his elbow.

“Nothing, I’m just gonna miss this.” You reply absentmindedly. After tonight, there would be no more late night meals to celebrate surviving. No more group research and planning sessions. Would you guys even hang out at all? Whatever the outcome, you hope that somehow you guys will find each other again.

“What? The pizza?” Mark’s tone is full of confusion, his brows furrowed. “Why would you miss it?”

You wave your hand dismissively at him, “Don’t mind me. I’m just being stupid.”

Mark shrugs in response and continues to devour his pizza, clearly more interested in food than your wistful behavior. The rest of the night is full of laughter and you relish it, holding back any tears that threaten to show. Unfortunately, you’re aware of Jaehyun’s eyes on you and you aren’t surprised when, after he paid for the meal since he was the one who stumbled upon the wendigo, he is quick to make sure he walks beside you. You purposefully placed yourself behind the group, watching from a small distance as they continued their antics.

“Whatever it is that you’re thinking of doing,” Jaehyun says lowly as to not gain the attention of your other friends, “please don’t.”

You arch a brow. “What makes you think I’m about to do something?” This time, he’s the one who arches his brow–as if challenging you to prove him wrong. Of course he would figure out that you were planning to do something. Jaehyun was always smarter than he liked to let on, said it always gave him an advantage. But it’s also probably because he’s known you the longest. “Alright, so maybe I am. It’ll be okay, though, promise.”

“And you’ll be safe?”

There was no way to be sure you would be but for his sake, you lied. “Of course.”

“Okay.”

It’s easy to refuse their offer to grab some boba, a flimsy excuse leaving your lips. Normally it wouldn’t work, they would plead and plead with you until you caved, but you make sure to stand your ground. They all know what it’s like to have a professor speak with them privately, so they let you go with a promise of next time. Before you leave, Jaehyun catches your eye knowingly and you do nothing but incline your head slightly at him.

Time travel is something you think about every now and again. It’s an immensely intriguing topic and from all research you have done, no other being like yourself has managed to do it successfully. For all you know there could have been a successful attempt that wasn’t documented. But then again it could just be you comforting yourself in case it doesn’t work.

You hold onto a small photo album that you wanted to take along with you, for memories sake, and prepare yourself to say the incantation. When you finish, you wait it out. Nothing happens.

It’s strange because you know that you said everything correctly and that there is no way that a spell book that had been around for centuries (at least according to the witch that gave it to you) would contain wrong information. You frown but have to pause your train of thought because of the knocking on your bedroom door.

It’s a surprise to find Doyoung standing on the other side when you open it, holding a bag that you just know has your favorite fruit tea. Before any of you can utter a sound, there’s a strange feeling that starts to stir in your gut. In a flash it’s as if you travel through the stars at an unforgiving speed, your head spinning, before you come to a halt and feel weightless–as if you are being suspended high up in the air. Then nothingness.

*

When you come to, you find yourself in one of your favorite cafés. Your old windows laptop is sitting in front of you, notes and papers full of calculations spewn carelessly around the table.

The spell worked, you’re sure of it, but you have to confirm it just in case. A quick glance at the date on the corner of your laptop assures you that it’s the year when it all started. Not only is it the year actually, it’s also the day before you discover the magic that you possess. This time, however, you aren’t going to involve any of your friends. Curiously, after glancing around to make sure nobody is paying attention to you, you peer inside your t-shirt to check if you were still you or if you had taken ownership of your body from this timeline. There are no scabbed scratches in sight. You frown. What happened to the you in the future then? Did you just disappear? Or were you replaced by a different version of you?

Deciding that you don’t want to give yourself a headache, you focus on the screen of your laptop instead. Oh, you remember this assignment. You ended up submitting it late because you got ambushed by a kelpie. That damn kelpie lost you fifteen percent and you still haven’t let it go. Maybe you can submit it in early this time. Placing the photo album on the table, you decide to continue your assignment, searching your brain for any information you remember.

It’s an hour later when Jaehyun barges into the café, frantically making his way over to your table. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you for ages,” he tells you breathlessly, giving you a once over. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

Dressed? Is there a function you need to attend? You wrack your brain for a memory. Obviously it’s the day before you come into your powers but there has to be something else for Jaehyun to eye you like he is. But what is it? What’s so special about April fifteenth? April fifteenth. April fifteenth.

“Mark’s recital.” Christ, how could you forget. “Today’s Mark’s recital, right?” It’s also the day you meet Doyoung, dressed to the nines in a black pinstripe suit with his hair perfectly slicked back.

“Yes you idiot, now lets get going ‘cause I don’t want to have to fight any moms for good seats.”

Without allowing you to reply, he whisks you back to your apartment. There is a lack of extra shoes by the door and the huge, ugly ceramic vase that Doyoung insisted he buy for his plant to dress up the place is missing from the corner of the room. Your grip on the photo album tightens as you soak in the difference, unused to how empty the place looks. Evidently there’s no time for you to be caught in your feelings if the way Jaehyun practically shoves you into your room as he yells at you to change is an indication.

Mark looks dapper and you tell him as much. There’s an ache in your chest when you notice the youthfulness in his face. This is him before he becomes jaded. His appearance (the lack of dark circles, the roundness of his cheeks, the brightness in his eyes) is enough to assure you that you’ve made the correct decision.

“Don’t cry now,” Jaehyun teases, “he hasn’t even started.” They chuckle at your expense but you can’t even respond with anything witty. Not with the way they look so careless–like they don’t have anything to worry about other than upcoming assignment due dates and what movie the three of you should watch during your next movie night.

Doyoung has always been easy to spot in a crowd. Well, at least for you. So you aren’t surprised when you scan the large mass of people and find him in record time. The breath is knocked out of you when your eyes land on him even though you already know what he’d be donning. But he’s wearing those cute horn rimmed glasses that he eventually had to stop using because there were too many close calls. Every fibre of your being demands you to run over and tease him about them again like you used to. But you don’t, obviously, averting your eyes the second he turns his head. There’s no way you’re going to take away his peaceful life either, you promise yourself, eyes devouring the way he tips his head backward as his mouth falls wide open in a laugh.

*

The feral omega howls, loud and clear in the night. The beating of your heart is racing in your ears which you know it can hear from far away no matter what tricks you use to distract it. Foolishly, you forgot your wolfsbane in your apartment so you’re left to your own devices. You know this forest like the back of your hand, have run in it enough to know that there should be a small area of the flower in the east. Picking up your pace, you move in the right direction.

When you first encountered this creature, you were with Doyoung, Jaehyun and Mark. The four of you weren’t as skilled yet; Mark thought that silver would protect all of you, Jaehyun’s aim wasn’t on par, Doyoung wasn’t as good at keeping up with the pace you all had to run, and you were too headstrong to follow any directions Doyoung barked at you. Now, however, it’s easy for you to eliminate the omega after you sloppily rub wolfsbane on your weapon and aim. There are no relieved sighs or eruption of cheers that follow when it drops to the ground. Instead there’s only silence as you wave your hand, willing a hole to appear in the ground so that you can bury it.

Once you’ve magicked your clothes clean, you sluggishly head over to the pizza place without a second thought. The place is packed but considering it’s Saturday night, you aren’t shocked. As you look around, waiting patiently for your to-go order at the designated spot near the counter, there’s a familiar mess of mud brown hair capping a broad figure you know all too well. But if Johnny’s here, that means–

Taeyong and Doyoung are bickering. You can’t hear them but you’re sure it’s about something silly like it always is. Yuta is watching them amusedly, sipping on his soda as his eyes swing back and forth. You allow yourself to watch them because you miss them so, so much. It’s been a week and you’re run down by all the creatures that keep popping up in your small town. As you are about to tear your gaze away from them, Yuta catches your eye. You spot the small quirk of his brow and prepare yourself for his oncoming smirk. When he doesn’t fail to deliver, you wink saucily at him, knowing that he turns into a shy baby the minute his target flirts back. The others peer at your direction, lacking subtlety as usual, when he sinks into his chair slightly.

Fortunately your order is called out but you manage to shoot them a hesitant smile anyway, figuring that it won’t hurt anybody. They’ll probably forget about you tomorrow anyway, so it doesn’t matter.

*

Since your small celebratory pizza, you have accumulated more injuries but they’re tiny and therefore nothing to worry about. What does have you worrying, though, is the fact that you and Doyoung have crossed paths more than you’d like. At first, it seems like a coincidence; you see him a few times in the campus library or you’re both in the line for food in the canteen. But then you start seeing him outside of campus and you can’t help but find it strange.

“Hey,” Jaehyun greets over the phone. The two of you scheduled a lunch date with Mark but neither of them have shown up yet so it’s just you waiting for them boredly at your table. “Is it alright if I bring someone? We were working on a project together and we’re both famished.”

“Sure. The more the merrier, I guess. I’ll ask for an extra setting, just one extra person right?” Jaehyun gives you an affirmative then ends the call after promising to be at the diner in fifteen minutes.

“About time you got”-your voice hitches at the sight of Doyoung standing beside Jaehyun-“here.” What type of bullshit is the universe pulling? Is it purposely dangling your friends in front of you knowing that you refuse to interact with them? Aren’t you allowed to keep them as far away from you as possible, where they’ll be safe? Christ Almighty. Only Jaehyun would somehow manage to be Doyoung’s partner for his project while you were actively trying not to befriend him.

“Hi I’m Mark, nice to meet you!” The blond says cheerily, easily gesturing at the seats in front of you.

Clearing your throat, you introduce yourself. It’s just your luck that Doyoung sits in front of you, recognition settling in his eyes once you are face to face. The conversation runs smoothly once he’s introduced himself and although you know you shouldn’t, you can’t help but prattle on about various topics that you know will get him heated–you’ve always loved debating with Doyoung. There is just something about the way he words his points, bringing up necessary facts and even searching them up in order to prove you wrong. Mark and Jaehyun’s heads swing back and forth between the two of you as if they are watching a pendulum.

You didn’t realize how much you have missed his intense eyes until now. They are locked on you like you are his target and it reminds you of when you would go monster hunting, just the two of you and nobody else because both of you were stupidly confident in your plan. The debate ends when Mark diverts the conversation by mentioning dessert. Doyoung smirks smugly at the fact that he got the last word but you don’t even care about your loss, you are just content that he took the bait. The lunch ends with you trading numbers with him, passing your phones to one another over the table. Doyoung hates the picture you take of him but when you tell him to suck it up because you think he looks cute in it, he is adorably flustered.

*

On nights when you can’t drag yourself to your usual pizza spot, too lonely and aching with pain, you quietly slip into the spare room that should be occupied by Doyoung. You like to lay on the bed and imagine that you never traveled back in time, that he’s reading aloud to you like he regularly does. Instead of reading out loud while imagining the warmth that he radiates, you flip through your photo album. They are all your favorites; Yuta squishing Mark in a hug, Taeyong feeding Jaehyun a dish he cooked, Johnny staring at the sunset. But you like the ones with Doyoung the best, mostly because you are a tiny bit biased.

Sometimes you wish you could tell them. All of them. You are bursting with need to do so. But then one of them does something, like Mark smiling brightly when you visited the aquarium a few days ago or Taeyong’s proud smile because he managed to learn to strum a song on his ukelele, and it’s enough to remind you that you can’t burden them. There has been one or two incidents where you almost blurt it out but then you vividly remember their faces crumpled in pain and you can’t.

Other times you think about whether or not the future is being rewritten. Maybe you won’t even be present in the future because even though the injuries you have sustained so far have been small, it doesn’t mean that they won’t become serious in the future. Or maybe you do survive, somehow obtain your degree and find a job then start a family or something.

This time, however, you find yourself muffling your sobs in the dark as you stare at a group picture because yeah, your friends with them again somehow and you’re thankful, but you are so, so lonely. Shouldering the protection of your small town on your own is extremely difficult without anybody to lean on. Even with the knowledge you possess, executing a plan is a big obstacle considering any move that you make could end up very badly since you don’t have any back up.

Tomorrow you will shove down these feelings but tonight you allow yourself to cry until you fall asleep.

*

The pain in your arm is excruciating but you don’t stop–can’t stop. You are running as fast as you can, taking sharp turns here and there as you silently plead with your legs to keep going. You need to find a small place to rest so that you can build up some energy to use your magic but you know there isn’t anywhere to hide.

The time you have recently spent rebuilding your friendships has led you to forget about one of the worst ever monsters you have had to defeat–the pilgasari. The first time you had to execute it, you failed miserably and everyone was horribly injured. Taeyong and Mark had nightmares for weeks, Johnny and Jaehyun grew paranoid, Yuta never let any of you out of his sight and Doyoung stuck by your side for months. It is basically immortal and the only reason you managed to defeat it on your second attempt is because you were about to witness your friends die. Magical exhaustion took over you afterwards and when you woke up, you were greeted by teary eyes, pizza and a smack on the head accompanied by a lecture.

A loud roar shakes the trees, causing you to move faster out of sheer desperation. But when you swing left, you come to a screeching halt. The creature is a few feet ahead of you, it’s large eyes boring into your own as it stomps its way towards you. The spells that you yell desperately are futile, it keeps moving towards you without a hitch in its step. Christ. You are going to die. You are going to die and miss movie night tomorrow and your friends are going to mourn you forever, wondering what happened to you for the rest of their lives.

You flinch when it takes a swipe at you, dangerously close to ripping off your arm. The second your back hits a tree, you know it’s over. You don’t have enough energy anymore to even attempt a spell so all you can do is watch in fear as it towers over you, raising it’s long claws. The sound of your heart pounding isn’t loud enough to eliminate your scream as it slashes at your direction.

It manages to make an incision on your good arm and just as it raises it’s claws again, you squeeze your eyes close. And then you feel like you are traveling through the stars, speed so fast that it’s dizzying. You know this feeling. You do. You have been acquainted with it before only once and you have never been more glad to be feeling it again.

It shouldn’t be possible but when the weightlessness disappears, you find yourself staring into Taeyong’s large, moist eyes and you can’t help but huff out a weak laugh.

“Missed you.” You manage to mumble, body now painfully aware of just how many injuries you have endured. You want to reach out to him, to smooth the lines away from his forehead and assure him that you are okay but you’re arms feel like jelly, the cuts screeching in agony, so you resist tamp down the urge. Someone, Mark maybe, cries loudly and that is the last sound you hear before you succumb to your exhaustion.

*

You wake up with a start, eyes wildly scanning the room. A garbled sound escaping your lips when you notice that one of your paintings is hung up on the wall–you aren’t very good and Doyoung said as much when you presented it to him but he still framed it and hung it up in his room. If painting is up, along with the books overflowing on the shelf, that has to mean-

Your eyes dart towards the door as it opens. Jaehyun hasn’t taken notice of you yet since he is rubbing his eyes but when he does, his eyes widen and he bellows at the others. Immediately, everyone tramples in. Weakly, you raise your arm a fraction and that’s enough for them to flock towards you. They speak over each other and you can’t help but tear up at their expressions. They all look so torn up except Doyoung who stands at the door with his arms crossed, head down as he creates holes in the carpet with his burning stare.

“How did you guys bring me back?” None of them are magically inclined–just a bunch of extraordinarily brave humans who are reckless enough to join you to keep the town safe.

“We had to ask three witches for help.” Mark admits, staring at you like you might disappear if he doesn’t keep his eyes on you.

“Don’t do that to us again,” Yuta says as he takes your hand in his. “We thought we lost you forever.”

“Yeah! If we all lost our memories of you, you would have been gone forever!” Johnny exclaims.

“What do you mean?”

“Every one of us started losing our memories of you,” Taeyong answers, “except for Doyoung.” At his response, your gaze snap towards Doyoung who still refuses to meet your eyes.

“Alright, we are going to get boxes of pizza and snacks while the two of you sort everything out.” Jaehyun states, clapping his hands together, his eyes directed at Doyoung pointedly before returning to yours. “I’ve missed you so much dummy, never do that again.”

“I’ll try.” Mark squawks at your reply, eyes widening in terror as he begins to list out the reasons why you should never do it again. “I was kidding. I won’t.” The collective sagging of shoulders doesn’t escape your notice which makes you feel horrible.

Before shuffling out they touch you in different manners; Yuta lightly clutches your hand before letting go, Johnny pats your head, Jaehyun softly flicks your forehead, Mark places a heavy hand on your shoulder and Taeyong strokes your forearm.

The silence is overbearing once they leave the room. You feel like holding your breath as you wait for Doyoung to say something. Anything. But he still won’t meet your eyes. Instead he walks over to his bed and kneels at your side, crossing his arms on the mattress and resting his head on top. He is close enough for you to place your hand on his head, so you do. Your fingers card through his hair, making sure that you scrape your nails delicately on his scalp. When you notice the small tremors of his shoulders, you move your hand from his scalp to the nape of his neck then in between his shoulder blades.

“It’s okay,” you soothe quietly, wincing at the sight of the bandages that cover your arms as you rub your hand up and down his back in a constant motion. “I’m here.” You continue to murmur what you hope is enough assurance for him so that he can talk to you.

“How could you do that you absolute idiot.” Is the first thing he says, his tone harsh, when he looks up at you. “You just disappeared right in front of me and never came back! And then everybody started to forget about you!” You wince guiltily at his words. “And I- And I-” You wait patiently for him to continue. Your heart hurts at the sight of him softening as he examines your injuries. “I thought I’d lost you forever and it would be all my fault.” He continues quietly, shaking his head at you when you open your mouth to say something. “Didn’t mean what I said back then. I was just mad because you always take the hits for us, for me, and it was so bad. Almost as bad as the time we fought the chimera. You didn’t see how much blood you lost.”

“Hey, it isn’t your fault,” disbelief is written in his eyes at your statement. “It isn’t! It was all me, okay? I thought you would all be better off without knowing, so I tried to fix it.”

“But you wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t say what I did!” The exclamation is followed by a fresh wave of tears.

“Alright, how about this: it was both of our faults because we were being idiots. Sound good?”

“Only if you don’t do it again.” It’s supposed to come out as demanding, you know it is with how he has squared his shoulders and faced you determinedly, but all you see in his eyes are pleading.

“I promise I won’t.” You pledge, placing your hand on his cheek. He moves it so that it covers his eyes and something inside you breaks when you feel hot tears building up a wall against your palm and fingers. “Doyoung,” you whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” you call gently to gain his attention when he removes your hands from his red rimmed eyes, “read to me?”

“Of course.”

You fall asleep to the sound of his voice, snuggling into his side with his arm around your shoulders. And the next morning when the others tease the two of you and show off the pictures they took, trying their damn hardest to make sure that everything feels normal and you didn’t disappear for almost three weeks, Doyoung kicks them out of the apartment so he can spend some quality time with you.

[arisenameoba]

Bad guys gone good

Part 1: 

   It had been a couple months since you graduated from UA. Your time there was definitely unforgettable. The friends you made and the lessons you learned were what helped you pull through till the very end, along with the dream of becoming a Hero. 

   Being a Hero...it was something that held all of us strong. The day of finally going off to save people’s lives and fight villains was what we lived for, and it was definitely something that you lived for. The only thing you ever wanted was to give people hope and a sense of security, so after graduating from UA you wasted no time in finding an agency to work under, and within just a couple months you were out there with the Pro Hero’s, assisting them on their missions. You had never felt more alive in your entire life. 

   Of course, working as a Hero came with its consequences. Big organizations run by villains were one of the major focuses, considering that they were constantly out to get the heros. Though, one particular organization called the LOV, or the League of Villains, was your main priority. Granted, they weren’t as active as the others, but they were still number one on your list as the most dangerous. 

   You remembered your fellow colleagues discussing rumors and personal experiences they’ve had with the LOV, but you had yet to see one of their members in the flesh, and you planned on keeping it that way. Despite the months you had fighting difficult villains, you knew you weren't ready for anything as big as the LOV. Not yet at least. People as evil as them, you had to make sure you were trained enough. You never know what to truly expect when you come in contact with the ones causing all the mayhem. 

   “Y/n! I think this is the last block to portrol. After that, Team B will switch with us.” (?) said as he pointed back towards the direction of our agency. 

   Turning around, you gave (?) a thumbs up. “Okay, I’ll make sure we’re all good here!” 

   (?) smiled. “Good luck!” 

   Turning back around, you began walking down the sidewalk to make sure there weren't anything out of the sorts going on. Checking each alleyway, you made sure no one was there. Once you reached the end of the street, you peered down the very last alleyway to find nothing. Everything was the way it was supposed to be. 

   As you began turning away to head back to (?), a sudden rush of indescribable heat radiated from the dark alley. Whipping your head around, your eyes fixated on a bright blue flame that glowed in the blackness. It’s colorful light was almost hypnotizing as it restlessly danced by itself. 

   Where the hell was this light coming from? You thought. Everything was perfectly normal just a second ago. 

   Hesitant at first, you checked back to see if (?) was anywhere near, but when the coast seemed to be clear, you slowly inched your way deeper into the alleyway, the flame appearing closer and brighter with every cautious step you took. The heat seemed to increase as well, keeping you from getting any closer. 

   The blue flame stood idly, flickering, with no particular purpose. You just stared at the beautiful ombré colors in awe, ignoring the heat that caused you to sweat excessively. 

   It was just so alluring. What could such a flame be doing, floating in the middle of a dark alleyway? Could it mean something? 

   “I see that you’re fascinated by my blue fire.” a chill voice chuckled, causing you to quickly turn around and put up your fists in defense. 

   “Who are you?” You asked, immediately gripping your fists tightly. Did I just fall into a trap? 

   “No need to get all worked up.” The voice seemed to be coming from the same spot, but you weren’t exactly sure where that was. “I just wanted to warn you that you should be more weary of your surroundings.” 

   Not being able to pinpoint the man's location, you slowly began to back up. While doing so, you noticed stepping onto something wet. Looking down, your eyes widened to find yourself walking on spilt blood. 

   Gasping, you jumped back to only unravel something far worse. The blue flame wasn’t floating in midair, but in fact roasting a human body. 

   How? How did I not notice the body? You thought to yourself in distress. 

   “I tried to warn you.” the cold voice spoke once again, this time sounding closer than before. 

   Frantically searching for the man in the shadows, you hold onto your mouth in shock as the pungent smell finally registers into your brain. “You did this, didn’t you?” 

   Suddenly, a new blue flame appeared, but not from thin air. 

   You watched as the blue light revealed a man with the mix of purple and pale skin. The purple skin seemed to have a rough texture as it appeared to be stapled against the parts that weren’t affected. He also had hair so black that it blended into the darkness and eyes the same color as his blue flame. 

   Something about him seemed automatically familiar to you.

   “Let’s say that I was responsible,” the man said, keeping a good distance between you too. “what do you suppose you’ll do?”

   Without wasting another second, you use your quirk called Tsunami to create a large flow of water to launch towards the villain, but it was clear he saw your attack coming from miles away. 

   “Nice attempt, but you’re going to have to be less predictable next time.” the villain’s voice suddenly whispered into your ear from behind, causing chills to run down your back. 

   Yelping, you swiftly turned around and threw some water in an attempt to cause some damage, but you only ended up burning out the fire on the body, which was your only light source other than the moving fire from the villain's hand. 

   Clenching your fists, you could feel your entire body began to shake with confusion and anger. It was obvious you were off your game today. I mean, who wouldn’t be if they were unexpectedly met with a villain? 

   “Is that all you’ve got?” the man questioned, his voice hinting a bit of disappointment.

   Taking a deep breath, you gather your nerves and look up at the glowing blue eyes already staring you down. “Who are you? Answer me now.”

   This was your lame attempt at coming off as intimidating, but you had to get a grip of yourself somehow. 

   The man remained in his spot, eyes not leaving you. “I’m surprised that you haven’t heard of me or at least recognized me.” 

   Your mind began to race. Was I supposed to know who this man was? 

   “I’m only giving you another chance. Tell me who you are now.” You demanded. 

   Although the concept of his look rang a bell in the back of your head, you couldn’t seem to piece together the whole picture. Could he be a villain on the list back at your agency? 

   “Fine, if I have to.” the man sighed as he lifted his hand higher, the flame’s shadow swaying against his face. “The name’s Dabi.” 

   Dabi? Why did that name sound so...? 

   Then it hit you. You did know the name Dabi. It was the name of one of the members of the LOV, the top most dangerous villain associations. 

   Your brain began to pulsate with a headache from this new information. Despite a member from the LOV standing right in front of you, you knew you weren’t trained enough to handle him on your own, so the overwhelming feeling was getting the better of you. 

   “Come on, hero.” Dabi chuckled. “don’t tell me this is the end of the line for you.”

   Come on, y/n! Get a damn grip! All you have to do is call for (?)! He’ll come and save you! 

   Your mouth refused to open, however. No matter how hard you tried, not a single sound would escape. 

   Pressing the palm of your hand against your forehead, you decided fighting back was your only option. 

   Slowly lifting up your free hand, you hoped that the water on the ground from earlier would react fast enough, but Dabi’s immense blue flame evaporated the water within seconds, leaving only the hard, dry concrete.

   This can’t be happening! You screamed inside your head, causing the pain to increase. 

   Your years of wanting to be a hero lead up to this very moment, but it seemed that the feeling of it actually happening was something you could have never prepared for. 

   Excessive sweat followed by heavy breathing, you began to lose feeling in your arms and legs, until the lids of your eyes were too much of a weight to bare any longer, so you closed them, causing Dabi’s blue light to slowly fade away into the darkness. 

[rosepetalmark]

Not in the Stars

2.5k words

Renjun x Reader

warnings: alcohol mention

in which you plan to confess your love for your best friend to him at a party, but the universe has other plans in store for the both of you. 

You like Renjun. A lot. 

That was one sentence in your five years of friendship with Huang Renjun that you never thought you’d say to yourself, let alone admit to. 

You don’t know where these feelings came from, but all you know is that they’re strong and on your mind twenty four seven. Everything he says and does captivates your mind, causing your feelings for him to grow even stronger.

It’s as if these feelings for him suddenly hit you like a brick one day. You were strictly best friends last week, and now you have these unexplainable deep feelings for him, eating you alive and begging for you to confess to him.

It’s not that you’re opposed to dating Renjun, it’s just that he’s been your best friend for several years and he means so incredibly much to you. You just don’t want to risk losing him or making things between you two weird if he doesn’t feel the same. 

So you suppress your feelings. As long as you have Renjun as your best friend, that’s all that matters, right?

Jaemin always makes you second guess yourself, explaining that the dynamic duo that you and Renjun are would be ten times more incredible if you were dating. Since you’re already best friends and know everything about each other, why not date? Only bigger and better things can come from it he always says.

Although Jaemin makes strong points, you’re still scared Renjun will turn you away, mainly because you’re ninety nine percent certain that he only views you as a friend, nothing more and nothing less. 

Yeah you have sleepovers  and spend hours late at night talking on the phone with one another, but that’s what best friends do. If Huang Renjun has any feelings for you, you’re sure someone would have said something by now. 

You get the typical stares from old people when you make your daily trek to school in the morning, him waiting outside your house for you at exactly seven forty two, smiling so bright the second you walk out your front door.  

You constantly get mistaken as his girlfriend whenever you go out together on the weekend, which always causes a deep pink blush to appear on Renjun’s cheeks. He’s always quick to brush it off though, making it clear to everyone around you that you’re strictly best friends, and that neither of you view each other in that way. 

Boy is he wrong.

Everything about Renjun makes your heart flutter, and that’s something that scares you.

For starters, he excels so well in school. For someone who spends eighty percent of his time doodling instead of taking notes, he aces every test and can recite every piece of information that’s been discussed in class with no problem.

He’s caring and funny, and so unapologetically himself. He takes you to art museums on your spare time, talks about the latest conspiracy that’s on his mind, and always insists you go for milkshakes every Sunday night.

And boy was he cute. The way he tilts his head all the way back and crinkles his eyes when he laughs makes your heart absolutely melt.

Huang Renjun makes you happy and positive and there’s nothing more in this world that you want than to hold his hand and kiss him in public, as well as call him your boyfriend so bad. 

It wasn’t until you were out late with him, hanging out on the roof at Jeno’s house, trying to escape the loudness that was coming from inside. Jeno was throwing a kickback to celebrate the beginning of summer, something he does ever year, in which there’s always too many people inside, and you and Renjun find yourself on the roof trying to seek solace in the stars. 

Renjun looked so ethereal in the moonlight. There was nothing more that you wanted to do than press your lips ever so gently against his, and hold his hand while staring up at the stars displayed so brightly above you both in the dark sky. 

“What are you thinking about bubs?” Renjun asked, referring to the nickname he gave you when he found out that’s the name you gave your favourite stuffed rabbit when you were a child. 

God the way his voice sounded in this moment made you weak. The tipsiness you both experienced earlier was wearing off, causing your lack of hydration to become present through your raspy voices. 

But you don’t care. You’re with Renjun, and you are warm and comfortable and in love. 

In love. 

You’re in love with Huang Renjun and you can’t keep it in any longer.

Maybe this would be the best time to tell him. Every time you’re completely sober, you push the idea to the side, trying your best to forget your feelings for him even exist. What if Jun doesn’t feel the same? What if he does but months down the line you figure out you’re better off as friends, and then when you try to get back into your non-romantic routine, everything feels off? You always worry that things will go wrong and Renjun will eventually stop being your friend.

Not tonight though. Renjun looks gorgeous in the moonlight and the little bit of alcohol that remains in your system is acting as your source of encouragement, convincing you to confess to him right now and hope for the best outcome possible. 

“Love,” you reply nonchalantly. 

“Love?” he questions, staring back to you, seemingly surprised with your response. 

“Yeah. Just wondering what the universe has in store for me, you know?” you ask, turning your body to face his direction, criss crossing your legs over one another. “The idea of love both intrigues me and freaks me out. It’s exciting anticipating what will come from it, but the fear of something going wrong down the line makes me not want to pursue it, you know?” you say, staring innocently into his eyes.

He cocks his head, an intrigued look falling on his face. He purses his lips, looking as if he’s going to say something, but remains silent. 

You both remain in silence for the next several minutes, which causes your thoughts to wander. What if Renjun has caught on? Maybe he’s thinking of ways to turn you down gently. Or he’s trying to express that he somehow knows you’re talking about him, and he’s trying to do so in a similar manner. 

But the silence is killing you, and you want nothing more than for Renjun to say something. Anything to get your thoughts to shut up, and your heart race to stop rapidly beating.

“I think you shouldn’t be scared of love,” he finally says. 

Taking a deep breath, he looks off into the sky, admiring the many stars laying millions of miles away from you both. “I get that you never know what may come out of it, but I think it’s worth a shot to know you tried, and to experience something you’re not fully sure is going to work,”  he speaks softly.

“Take a look at the universe for example. It’s so big and undiscovered, yet millions of people are fascinated by it. We’re obsessed with the stars and galaxies and the possibility of aliens- which I know for a fact exist by the way, yet we’re not afraid to spend our time discovering them and giving them our attention. I think of love in a similar manner. Yeah the thought seems so broad and scary, as there’s so many things to experience and discover, but I think it’s worth it. You’re only going to learn new things about yourself and life, so why not give it a shot?”

He clears his throat, and pays his attention back to you. He has a look of determination in his eyes, and that only makes you grow even more anxious.

“Aren’t you a wise expert on love, Mr. Huang,” you chuckle.

“Well what can I say? I do a lot of thinking on my spare time when I’m not bickering with you,” he laughs, positioning himself on his arms so he can get a better view of the night sky.

“Hey!” you shout, pushing onto his arm, causing him to lose his newly comfortable position and to fall on his back. “What are you thinking about Ren? You have this sour look on your face.”

“Well your idea of love got me thinking,” he says softly, staring into your eyes.

Nervousness takes over your body. You have no idea what he’s going to say, and every second of silence is eating you up.

“And?” you say abruptly, eager to know what he’s about to say. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and I don’t know, I never thought much of it because I’m a wimp, but I think I’m going to ask Yeri out” he confesses, a small smile forming on his face. 

The mention of Yeri makes your heart sink. Yeri. He wants to ask out Yeri. Not you. 

Of course he likes Yeri. What isn’t there to like about her? She’s really pretty and polite, and they’re both the editors of the school newspaper, so they spend a great amount of time with each other. 

God this hurt. 

“Oh really,” you respond, with a less enthusiastic tone replacing your prior happy one.

“Yeah. We’ve been getting to know each other a lot more ever since we got asked to do this editorial on the basketball team, and I think I may have feelings for her”

“Well, um I think you should go for it Renjun, “ you reply, looking off into the stars to help keep what’s happening off your mind. If you look into his eyes, you’re certain you’ll start crying.

If it’s not you, you’re glad he has an interest in a girl with a golden heart and personality. 

“You think? What if she doesn’t like me?” he asks nervously, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“Like you said Ren, you never know what will come from love. Why not give it a shot if it’ll lead to potentially greater things not only within yourselves, but life in general? And if she ends up only seeing you as a friend, it’s okay. You’ll find someone one day who loves every part of you.”

And you can’t help but know deep down that that person is you. If Yeri rejects him, you’ll be right here to help him pick up the pieces, if not, you’ll still be here. As his best friend. Renjun deserves all the love and happiness the universe has to offer him, and despite being sad he shows no romantic interest in you, you’re glad he finds it in an amazing girl. 

“Alright cool, I guess I’ll ask her out on Monday when we meet up to discuss the paper then.” he says, smiling to himself. 

He looks so happy. Ecstatic even. You haven’t seen him smile this big since he won first place in your school’s art show.

“She’s here you know, at the party,” you say to him. “You should do it now.”

“You think?” he asks, eyes wide. 

Renjun was never one to act on impulse. He’s a man with a plan, and always has to do things by the book or else he’ll lose his hair. He likes structure and time, a complete flip from your bold and impulsive self. 

“Yeah, why not? You’re both here, you look really cute right now, and the stars are out in your favour, shining bright to provide you with the courage to do so.” 

This makes Renjun smile. You’ve always been a help in boosting his confidence, and you’re glad to be of assistance in such a nerve-wracking yet exciting period in his life. 

Standing up, he dusts the possible dirt off his legs. He crouches over, looking into your eyes and grabs your hand. “You’re the best y/n. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“As I with you,” you reply, a soft grin forming from your lips. “Now go downstairs and ask her out before she leaves.”

Standing back up, he begins walking to the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes!” he half shouts, pressing his hand to the door handle,  and making his way back into the house. 

You’re now left alone, on the rooftop, with just the stars and your thoughts. 

Why didn’t you bring up your feelings to him sooner, you thought. Now you’re only left sad and alone, because you were too scared to tell your best friend you’re in love with him. Confessing to him seemed so perfect in your mind a couple minutes ago, but sadly the universe has other plans in store for you. 

You decide to get comfortable and lie down, and begin to look at the constellations that are possibly present within the night sky. You can still hear the loud, most likely drunk people just a floor below you, and the vibration of the music hitting your body despite being away from the noise. But you don’t care. It’s just you and the sky, and you’re doing everything in your power to forget about the party below you, and to focus on the stars. 

As you point out the orion in the sky, you feel a buzz in your back pocket, indicating that you’ve got a text. Reaching for it, you unlock your phone, and see a notification stating that Renjun messaged you. Pressing on the messages app, you click on his name and read the following:

jun bug: she said yes!! we’re going out on tueday after we’re done editing :) (2:17 AM)

“Yes.” Yeri said yes. 

You’re happy for your best friend, but for yourself, you’re heartbroken. The possibility of dating him is now slim to none, especially since a potential girlfriend is in the mix, only making you more sad for yourself. 

You make sure to reply quick, and in a way that’ll make him happy, and hopefully provide you with the positivity that everything will be okay.

y/n: i’m so happy for you ren <3 (2:18 AM)

As you press send, you feel the tears start to slide down your cheeks. You’re happy for him, you really are, but you can’t help but wish that things went differently, and that you were in Yeri’s position. 

But as Renjun said before, love can be scary. It’s a learning experience, and if it doesn’t work out, you just need to take what you can from it, and hope for the best in the future. 

So you’ll take his words, and you’ll try your best to move on. 

It’ll be tough, but you hope to god that one day he’ll just be your best friend, and that this heartbreak won’t last with you forever. 

[whimsymuse]

All I Ask (Best Friends AU)

➺ “It was selfish of you, you knew it. But how else were you supposed to move on?”

A/N This story was inspired by the Adele song going by the same title. The second I heard this song, my heart broke and ever since, I’ve been wanted to write something based off of it, so here you go guys!! Please suffer with me.

Masterlist

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

genre: Just a lot of angst

words: 3,711

“ ***** ” Indicates the beginning/end of a flashback

Moving. No matter how many times you did it, it’s never get easier. Some people think the move itself is the worst part: the starting over, the adjusting, the rebuilding of your home, but that’s not how you see it. In your opinion, the worst part about moving was the packing leading up to the move. Every time you packed, you were reminded of how your entire life could easily fit into a few waist high moving boxes and a couple of suitcases and it always made you feel... insignificant. It was as if all you had to offer this world after all of your years of being alive was in these boxes and that was all there was to you.

You turn away from the stack of boxes lining the wall of your small living room and shuffle back into your room. You should really stop thinking that way, but it’s so hard not to when you move to a new city and unpack just to repack and move again a few months later, all the time, like clockwork. In fact, this was probably the longest you’d ever spent in one place, seeing as your Dad’s job had required you and your family to move constantly since you were a child. This was your first time living on your own and you’d hoped that that would mean that you could finally lay down some roots and settle down but evidently that wasn’t the case.

Your room was almost as bare as the rest of your apartment, aside from the array of clothing scattered across your bed and on your chair. Just from looking at the scene you could already feel the exhaustion that you’d have to endure while cleaning it up. But it was all worth it to find this outfit, you think to yourself as you spin before the mirror.

You were wearing a dress that’s been hiding at the very back of your closet, one you’d almost forgot you owned. It fit you like a glove, accentuating all of your curves perfectly while also bringing out your eyes. Looking at your reflection, you might have even believed that you were ready for tonight, but that was so far from the truth.

*****

“Can you choose someone other than D.va for once? There’s already two tanks on your team, you need another offense player.” Jungkook says from the other side of the couch and you scowl in response.

“Can you leave me alone? I like playing D.va, okay? Besides, I’m on play Vs. AI, so it doesn’t matter.” You huff and Jungkook just shakes his head disapprovingly.

“You and Tae, I swear. There are other characters that are so much more fun to play that would actually benefit your team.”

“Give me a break! I’m still learning the controls, okay? You just want me to play Widow, don’t you?” You narrow your eyes slightly in his direction, and he scoffs at your expression then turns back to the screen.

           “No I don’t. You’re on attack, there's no point to you playing Widow.” He says matter-a-factly and you roll your eyes before he continues, “I just want you to try other characters and actually have fun.”

“I am having fun!” You protest, but you're just greeted by another shake of his head.

“Sure.” He says, clearly unconvinced, but too tired to argue with you. “Whatever you say.”

You manage to stick your tongue out at him before hastily turning back to the screen as the countdown to the start of the game begins. You were going to prove to Jungkook that you could play this damn game, no matter what he had to say.

...

Needless to say, you lost. And because of that you were subjected to an hour of Jungkook’s teasing.

“I’ve honestly never seen someone lose to the AIs that badly before,” He says, leaning forward on the table before you, “Tell me, how do you do it?”

You fix him with a hard stare trying to tell him to shut up with your eyes, but the unfazed smile he sends you tells you that it didn’t work.

“I’m talented.” You say instead and dramatically flip some of your hair over your shoulder. “You should know that by now.”

“Oh I do, but it still shocks me every time.” He responds, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “I mean the way you managed to die five times and kill no one - phenomenal.”

“Shut up.” You swat his arm as you stand and make your way back to the living room  with a glass of water in hand.

“No seriously,” Jungkook continues as he follows, much to your dismay, “The way you boosted yourself right off the stage, not once but twice! It was inspiring. Almost poetic.”

You groan, “Please shut up.”

Jungkook just laughs and pulls you onto the couch, making you almost spill your drink. You make a point to scold him for that while you place is safely onto the coffee table, but he just shrugs it off and pulls you onto his lap.

He wraps his arms around you and you can’t help but tense up as the heat from his chest radiates onto your back. Recently he’d gotten more touchy-feely, wrapping his arm around you, hugging you unexpectedly from behind, cuddling up with you sometimes on the couch when you watched a move and you honestly didn’t know what to think. It also didn’t help that you may have a little bit of a major crush on him.

You were conflicted between wanting to crawl out of his hold toward the safety of your usual side of the couch, and wanting him to pull you closer into his warm embrace.

“Can you stop! The kids on my team made fun of me enough. I don’t need you to pile on” You groan, squirming in your spot after ultimately deciding that you would be much safer on the other side of the couch, away from his relentless teasing and away from his intoxicating warmth.

Jungkook just laughs and holds onto you tighter. His warm breath passes right by your ear and makes a shiver run down your spine making you tense up even more. His laugh always had that kind of an effect on you, but it was significantly amplified when he laughed right into your ear. You heart was racing at a speed you knew could not be good for your health and there was no way you were going to be able to calm down in the position you were in. You had to get out.

You pretend to playfully push your way out of his hold with an amused smile plastered on your face, but the ends of your smile twitch as you do.

“God, you’re annoying!” You exclaim.

You attempt to rush into the kitchen to find some solace, but he quickly catches up to you. He spins you around, wrapping his arms around you to keep you in place as he leans down to whisper. “You know you love me.”

Eventually he pulls back, wearing a bright smile and there is absolutely no way you can hide how red your face is. A part of you wants to pull away - knows that it’s probably best if you do, but another part of you just can’t. You’re too enraptured by the man standing before you, whose arms are tightly wound around you enveloping you in his warmth and you just feel that this is where you belong.

     His words echo in your head and maybe if you weren’t so distracted by them and his sparkling eyes, you would’ve noticed the concern growing on his face. Maybe if you did you wouldn’t have been so diluted and think your stood a chance. Maybe then you could have saved yourself from your heartbreak.

“Y/n? Are you-” He starts to say, but you don’t let him finish.

“I do.” The words leave you mouth before your brain even processes them. The words catch both you and Jungkook off guard, and you know it’s far too late to take them back, but even if it wasn’t you didn’t want to.

“You do, what?” He asks cautiously, looking back and forth between your eyes.

“Love you.” You say without any hesitation. “I love you Jungkook.”

In that moment, everything freezes. It’s as if everything in the world around you is suspended by some strange anti-gravitational force, so to not make a sound during this monumental moment of yours. You were surprised by your confession, but more surprised by how natural the confession felt. Saying you love Jungkook felt as simple as taking a breath, it was just what you did, it was only natural. He’d been your best friend for years and though you’d never actually loved someone before, there was no doubt in your mind that what you felt for Jungkook was just that - love.

That feeling of suspense quickly faded however, as soon as he leaned away from you. He physically recoiled from your touch -  as if he’d touched fire, but all you felt in that moment was cold.

*****

After that happened, nothing was ever the same between the two of you. The two of you still talked and hung out, but the closeness that you used to have was no longer there. Jungkook was more cautious around you. He stopped playfully flirting with you, he stopped cuddling with you on the couch and he stopped pulling you closer than normal friends would. He kept a platonic distance from you now, not that you could blame him. He didn’t want to lead you on and you understood that. You were thankful for the space because it gave you the chance to move on, but unfortunately for you, falling in love with your best friend was easy, falling out of it felt nearly impossible.

You’d been trying though, you have. You’ve been hanging out with other friends, you’ve been going out on dates with other people and you’ve tried to distract yourself with other hobbies, but no matter what you did, your mind always returned to thoughts of him. And now here you were, physically moving away before you could actually move on from him, and your need for closure was the entire reason you were in this messed up situation tonight.

You look at the clock. Jungkook should be here at any moment and all you wanted was for him to come sooner, before you started to have doubts and before you bailed on this plan all together. This had to work - you had no other choice.

You drag a nervous hand through your hair and sigh. This was really selfish of you, you knew, but what else could you do. You needed closure and you couldn’t think of any other way to get it.

“This is for our friendship.” You repeat to yourself for the fifth time today, hoping that maybe this time you’ll actually believe that.

There was a knock at the door before anymore doubts could fill your head and before you knew it, the very man occupying each and every corner of your mind was standing in your doorframe. He looked stunning, with his hair styled back and wearing a well fitted suit that he left unbuttoned just to add some of that casual handsome flare that you loved so much about him.

Before you could even greet him, Jungkook was already closing the distance between the two of you. Your entire body tenses, but as he presses his lips to your forehead, you immediately melt under the warmth .

He pulls back slightly, but allows for his fingertips to lightly trickle down your arm before he takes your hand.

“You look absolutely beautiful, tonight.” He practically whispers as he presses another kiss into the back of your hand, sending a shiver down your spine.

“T-Thanks.” You clear your throat, “You look good too.”

“Only good?! I styled my hair for this!” Jungkook presses a hand to his chest in mock offense and you shrug then turn towards the door.

“I call it like it is, take it or leave it.” You say as steadily as you can as you pretend to struggle with your lock when you’re really taking the time to try and gather your thoughts.

You could tell what Jungkook was trying to do; just because the two of you hadn’t spoken in awhile doesn’t mean you can’t still read him like a book. He was trying to banter with you like you two normally did - before you confessed - to lighten the mood. And while you appreciated that, it wasn’t exactly easy for you to jump back into your old routine after not having spoken in so long.

But, you have to try. How else are you supposed to move forward? A little voice in your head reminded you, making you breathe out a heavy sigh.

“You alright?” Jungkook asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. You’ve probably been facing your door for longer than what could be deemed as normal, so hastily you turn around, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just a little tired. I’ve been packing all day.” You notice Jungkook open his mouth, and knowing what he was going to say you hastily clip on, “But don’t worry, I still have the energy to go out.”

Jungkook eyes you skeptically, his look of concern not really leaving his face, but he decides to not to press it.

“Alright then, let’s go?” He offers you his , which you gratefully accept.

On your way to his car, you try not to think about how perfectly your arm slotted into his and how comfortable it felt to be held by him again because that’s not what tonight was for. Tonight you were going on your first and last date with Jungkook, and one it was done, you would finally get over him.

...

The date, you had to admit was going really well. Jungkook took you to that fancy restaurant you both dreamed about going to and the food was everything you could’ve hoped for. The initial tension that had been polluting the air around the both of you for the past few months discreetly faded away as the two of you slipped back into your usual sarcastic quips and playful banter, as if your confession never happened.

Jungkook told you about the most recent kitchen disaster that happened, courtesy of his over enthusiastic roommates and you laughed at their antics. You knew no matter how many times his roommates threatened to burn down their apartment, Jungkook would still love them; they were practically his family!

You told him about the current drama that was going on between your roommate and her boyfriend and Jungkook scoffed - he knew your roommate well, so it didn’t surprise him to hear that she was fighting with her on again off again boyfriend.

Neither of you mentioned your approaching move. It seemed like a delicate topic and you’ve honestly never spoken to him about it since the first time you told him. You figured he never brought it up because he felt that it was better off for you to move, but didn’t want to openly admit that, fearing that he’d insult you. And frankly if that was the truth, you prefered it this way.

Once the check arrives at the table you raise your hand, but Jungkook quickly reaches for it, before you can even get a hold of it.

“Wait Jungkook, we should split it.” You say, frantically reaching into your purse for money.

Jungkook quickly sticks a few bills in, “Don’t worry, I got it.” He says as he hands the check back to the waiter, who you watch leave before you can even pull out your wallet.

“Jungkook, don’t be like this. We always split the bill.” You say, pulling out some money from your wallet, “How much was it?” A gentle hand reaches over and closes over your fumbling fingers before you can start counting the money you own him.

“I said, don’t worry about it.” He says before smiling, “This is a date, so let me take care of it.”

Your heart completely stops when you hear that word, and in a split second the reality of this entire situation to hits you at once, making you want to collapse under its weight.

A date.

Sure this was technically a ‘date’, but it wasn’t a real one. In fact, Jungkook wasn’t even the one to ask you out on this date. You asked him - actually, you mostly begged him.

Clear as day, the scene of you asking him flashes before your eyes. All the emotions you felt that day begin to flood in to the point that you feel like you were about to burst. That day, your anxiety, frustrations and sadness had all hit you like a tidal wave and culminated into your desperate plea.

You basically begged Jungkook to take you out on this date. You thought that if you could experience, at least once, what it would be like to actually be with Jungkook, for him to be yours and for you to be his, that you’d be able to move on without any regrets or unanswered questions. And Jungkook, being the wonderful guy he was, readily agreed and even showed tonight what a wonderful boyfriend he could be. And that very thought was what brings tears to your eyes.

Tonight, Jungkook played the role of your boyfriend so well that you almost believed him, so much so that it hurt. The way he effortlessly complimented you, held you and looked at you so lovingly, gripped your heart and forced you to unconsciously let your guard down.

Who were you kidding? This plan was ridiculous from the very beginning. This ‘date’ was never going to help you get over Jungkook. All it was, was a way for you to selfishly live out the fantasy you’ve always wanted. And if anything, all you did was fall harder.

Jungkook, being the incredibly attentive friend he is, quickly rises from his seat to try and comfort you which only made you breakdown more.

How could you have taken advantage of someone so kind-hearted?

“No stop!” You snap out between your sobs and without even having to look at him, you can tell Jungkook shrinks away.

After a few minutes, you finally manage to calm down a little bit and slowly, you lift your eyes to see Jungkook crouching beside you. You notice how he hesitantly shifts his weight from one foot to the other, while nervously fiddling with his tie, and you instantly feel another wave of guilt.

“I-I should go.” The words stumble out of your mouth, just as clumsily as you rise from your seat and you hastily make your way out of the restaurant, ignoring Jungkook’s protests.

It isn’t until you push through the doors and feel the bite of the cold night air on your cheeks, that Jungkook is finally able to stop you. With a half-hearted pull, you try to pry your wrist free from his grasp, but you know there is no point and you are far too tired at this point.

“Please let me go…” Your voice breaks as you say this, but still you push forward. “Haven’t I caused you enough pain?”

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asks and with a frustrated groan, you spin around to face him.

“What am I talking about?! Jungkook I’m talking about all of this! This stupid date, this tension that constantly been between us, the fact that you can’t even look at me anymore without feeling guilty, it’s all my fault! All because I couldn’t keep my damn emotions to myself!”

Jungkook’s mouth opens, as if he’s about to say something, but you immediately cut him off.

“Just stop.” Your voice wavers as tears threaten to spill from your eyes once more, “Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you…” The last part you breathe out, barely above a whisper, but from the way Jungkook’s jaw clenches, you know he heard you.

“Y/n…” He says stiffly, but you continue as if uninterrupted.

“You’ve been such a good friend to me, all of these years and I didn’t want to risk losing you, so I tried to get over you. I tried everything.I even drew up this stupid plan…”

A melancholy chuckle leaves your lips. “But it didn’t work. I still love you, and I can’t stand it anymore.” You gather up all of your remaining strength to look up at Jungkook one last time before you say the words that have been ringing in your mind for months.

“So please, just let me go.”

Jungkook freezes when he hears this and you take that opportunity to free yourself from his grasp and run over to the first taxi you can find. After giving the taxi driver your address, you vow to quickly pack up your things and leave on the next train out of town.

You were running away. It was immature and you knew that, but you couldn’t stay in the same city as him for a second longer. It just hurt too much…

…

By the time Jungkook was able to gather his senses after hearing your words, the taxi you’d gotten into was no longer in sight. You were long gone, and that realization hit him so hard that his knees gave way.

He didn’t even feel the pain the impact, or the pain that came after as he beat his frustrations into the ground below him. All he feels was the ache in his chest after watching you leave.

All this time, he’d been concealing his feelings with the hope that this would never happen. And even though he knew that if he’d just said something - told you how he felt - that you wouldn't leave,but he just couldn’t do it.

So all he could do was grip at the pain in his chest as you grow further and further away unconsciously taking his entire heart with you.

please do NOT edit, copy or repost

[adelmortescryche]

FMA Wrath!Roy AU

AN: Okay, hello hello! This is a bday gift for the very sweet @onceabluemoonwrites Happy 18th, Blue, we might have met relatively recently, but what a fun ride it’s been! I suppose I should have tried my hand at KHR for this, but that FMA alternate homunculus discussion of ours kind of led me astray. *wry grin* Here’s hoping you enjoy this? It’s a bit dark, and a bit introspective, but hopefully it’s enjoyable anyway.

Premise: What it says on the tin. An AU of FMA Brotherhood where Roy is the next Wrath after Fuhrer Bradley is eliminated, much like the previous Greed before Greeling happened. This changes some things.

There are few things that Roy remembers from… before. It’s easier to have forgotten, really, it’s been long enough that he wishes he didn’t remember anything at all.

He doesn’t exist in limbo, though. Not with Maes and Riza and the others still sticking by his side, even after the oddness of how just how quickly he’d been fast-tracked onto a path that would lead him straight to Fuhrer. The only reason he’s not already sitting in the seat is that it would’ve been too damned suspicious for him to have earned it as quickly as he had. Especially after their previous Fuhrer had been taken down under suspicious circumstances during the war.

Good riddance, Maes had muttered, squeezing his shoulder at the funeral. It had taken every fucking bit of sentimentality and love he had for his best friend to not give into the rage that had reared its ugly head in his gut, demanding that he snap his fingers and roast the other man alive where he stood.

Roy had disappeared with the Fuhrer, and another state alchemist on the ground. The other ‘state alchemist’ had been Envy, obviously, there to take out Bradley. Roy had been dragged along in the crossfire, a convenient body that they’d sacrificed to have a useful pawn. Nowhere near as good as what had been done to Bradley and others that had been picked and groomed for the role, according to Pride, but still better than the common stock.

He wished every day that he’d been more common than not. He doesn’t remember what it felt like to not feel fury singing through his veins at every waking moment, almost like a call to arms. Something tells him that he’d been calmer, more prone to humor before. Maes certainly seemed to think so, he cracked more jokes than necessary, constantly trying to get Roy to ‘lighten up’. When that didn’t work, he tried plying Roy with good whiskey in hopes that that would work instead, much to Gracia’s amusement with them both.

It didn’t.

Wrath’s voice in his head is… strange, in that it doesn’t really change him. It made him irate almost all of the time, like heat simmering beneath his skin. It made him beholden to Father’s whims in a way that was infuriating all on its own; enough so that he could understand why Bradley had taken a wife. Good images aside, it gave him a life outside of the humunculi’s machinations. It’s almost enough to make him pity his predecessor. Wrath makes him more impulsive – which probably isn’t a good thing, seeing as his specific brand of alchemy was on a hair trigger as is.

It also gave him a much higher physical prowess than before. Father himself thought it best to avoid the saber; that had always been Bradley’s signature, after all. Roy had found his mouth opening to confess that Maes would definitely smell the rat if Roy took up the sword at any point. The battle of wills that followed that confession had nearly ended in an order for Maes’ death. Roy suspected the only reason it didn’t was because Father had gotten bored. And hadn’t felt like breaking in a new minion quite yet.

So Roy had stuck to hand to hand combat, training himself slowly over the years until people started noticing a definite shift in his abilities. Riza had found it… amusing. But also relieving, since he’d finally addressed the one thing that had left him vulnerable in a fight if anything ever happened to his spark gloves.

Pride had jokingly suggested that he tattoo his arrays onto the backs of his hands, like Kimbley had before him. WrathRoy had smiled back at him politely, holding onto the urge to burn his elder brother to a crisp for even suggesting that option.

Oh, the other homunculi, his siblings, all knew exactly how to get a rise out of him.

About the only good thing that had come of his situation was the fact that he’d been given free rein to protect the Elric brothers in their quest. Roy had taken one look at their home, another at Ed and Al and had known. Known that they were sacrifices. He hadn’t known them, not then, not yet, but he’d known that they would be important.

In retrospect, it just figured that Al would be the first to find out.

Roy felt a tired smile tug at his lips as he walked closer to the boy, the hulking height of his armor notwithstanding. He was almost quivering in place; Roy suspected he might have been crying if he hadn’t been stuck as a soul tied to metal.

“Sir. Sir, please- Brigadier-General-”

“Orders are orders, Al,” he murmured, crossing the shallow water between them in what must have felt like the blink of an eye.

The kid screamed, and tried to get his hands up in defense to protect the girl hiding within him.

It wouldn’t be enough. Not against Roy. It hadn’t been enough at Ishval, it wouldn’t be enough now. Nothing ever was, anymore.

*

“You,” spat Ed later on, slamming his way into Roy’s office, “made my brother cry.”

Roy glanced up slowly from his paperwork, raising the single visible brow he had left to his name. He wasn’t sure what his face must have been radiating, but whatever it might have been, Ed scowled and slammed the door shut behind him.

Not that that would be enough to quell the curiosity of his team. It was enough to make Roy sigh, leaning back in his seat and lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Did it occur to you, Fullmetal, that it might have been better to not approach me after I made you brother cry?”

That it might have been better to not approach him at all, really. Because, this? Complicated things. Why did his subordinates have to be such reckless fools. Even when they didn’t have all the facts. Maybe especially then.

Fullmetal just snorted, though, not even bothering to sit down, instead towering over Roy’s desk, waiting until Roy actually looked up at him again. When Roy did look up, he was met with a splendid sneer that made Ed’s face screw up to an amusing extent.

He had to hide his smirk with some real effort. The Elric brothers never disappointed, did they.

“Wow. You’re not even fucking denying it, are you, fuckface.”

“Language.”

“You’re a fucking- you’re a homunculus, you killed Al’s friend, you made him cry, and you’re telling me to mind my language?” Ed asked incredulously, making Roy roll his eyes.

“When you put it that way, it certainly sounds ridiculous. No, not so loud, Edward.” he raised his voice in warning, eyes going narrow in his head when Ed tried to protest. Roy’s use of his name must have registered even if the tone hadn’t, because he subsided immediately, if with a scowl.

“Edward,” he repeated, trying to gentle his voice, “this is older than you, and a whole lot more complicated than it looks on the surface. You… really shouldn’t have come here. Not about this.”

“Why? You gonna kill me too?” bastard, went unsaid. Roy stared him down, unflinching, even when Ed’s hands fisted on top of the desk.

When he didn’t get an actual, verbal response, Ed shifted in place, uncomfortable. And still visibly angry. Wrath’s temper ticking away inside him sat up just a little, beginning to take notice, but Roy tamped it down. It was thankfully willing to listen, for once. It always had been, when it came to Ed and Al. Maybe it was because they were children, maybe it was because they were sacrifices, maybe it was because Ed…

“I,” he said after a long, taut moment, “have killed many a man, woman and child in my time. Many, Fullmetal. Not because I’ve wanted to, but because I was under orders to do so, and most of those times, I couldn’t say no.”

“That’s bullcrap-” Ed cut in, incensed, but his mouth shut with a click when Roy brought an open palm down on the surface of the desk, the sharp sound easily cutting through the stillness of the room.

“I,” Roy repeated, sotto voce, “Couldn’t say no. And that’s exactly what’s going to happen here if you don’t keep your mouth shut and listen.”

Wonder of wonders, the boy actually listened. Looked particularly mulish while doing so, but he didn’t look like he was going to cut in again. Deciding that that warranted at least some give on his part, Roy tugged off his eye patch with a sigh, blinking a few times and rubbing around the socket until the tight feeling lessened. When he glanced back at Ed, the ouroboros mark bare on his face, the boy was staring back at him with narrowed eyes.

“If we’re not really fucking careful, we’re both going to die.” He said, bland, a hard smile slitting across his face when Ed started at the swearing. “Because we’re both expendable at this point, Edward, you less so than me. So drag a seat up close, and tell me what you know.”

*

He might not remember much of what he used to be, before. But one thing he did remember was that Roy Mustang might have been a dog, but he sure as hell didn’t bow down in front of people who wanted to kill his people.

Wrath didn’t change that. Wrath just made him hit faster and harder. Wrath didn’t lie to Father, no, but it allowed Roy to get away with leaving certain things unspoken. Wrath hated being used about as much as Roy did, really, and where Bradley had been trained to take it, Roy certainly hadn’t. Conspiracy apparently ran in all their bloodstreams, waiting to stick it to their creator.

The first time he met Greed after he and the Xingan Prince figured themselves out, the other sin laughed and laughed and laughed. Long and hard. Much to Ed’s exasperation.

Roy just smirked through the red veil falling over his vision, and tried not to kill the fool on the spot.

[iimperviious-a]

42-46!

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

Honestly? Hunk doesn’t really have any specific goals or wants in his life. Before, he wanted to work in engineering but he didn’t have a specific career path in mind; he was afraid of choosing and locking himself into something he might not enjoy. At the moment, his biggest concern is getting himself, his friends, and the universe through this war alive, a cause for which he would absolutely give his life. Hunk likes to be with his friends and loved ones, so what he wants is for things to keep going the way they are. So I guess you could say his goal is to protect, and he’s shown that he’s willing to do anything it takes to do so.

Of course, he also sees the light at the end of the tunnel as being able to go back to Earth and to his family. He hasn’t, and frankly doesn’t want to think about what he’s going to do with his life after Voltron, because there really isn’t going to be an end. Once the Galra Empire is gone ( or no longer doing the same shit they’ve been doing the past 10k years ) there will still be other fights as other empires try and fill the gap the Galra left behind. Voltron still has to protect the universe, and Hunk will not just pass that job onto someone else so he can live happily on Earth.

On a less serious and more superficial note though, he’s had his eye on some cooking equipment at the Space Mall lately and might commit murder for them if offered. It’s like… really good stuff.

43. Does your character have any secrets? If so, are they holding them back?

The rest of the team, except for Lance, don’t know about his dad, and he prefers to keep it that way. He wouldn’t call it a secret, per say; it’s not like he intentionally hides it from them. If they were to ask, he wouldn’t lie or try to cover it up. But it’s never been something he felt he could talk about easily.

What he is very purposefully hiding though, is his romantic feelings. Hunks not the kind of guy to ever make the first move and ask someone out, or even crave a romantic relationship with anyone. He’s very affectionate towards his friends already and prefers to maintain friendships the way they are without making it awkward. But that doesn’t change the fact that he has a crush on two of his friends: Lance and Shay. Lance, he realized he had a crush on him while they were at the Garrison, subsequently realizing that means he’s also into boys. However he doubts that Lance would feel the same way, and on some levels doesn’t even acknowledge his own feelings. Same thing with Shay. He admires her deeply, and thinks the whole universe of her. She’s amazing, courageous, and kind; and she’s his friend. He can’t expect her to want anything else from him, especially since she has to focus on helping rebuild her society from the ground up.

44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them?

Given that Hunks current life objective seems to be fight the Galra and not die in the process, he’d pretty much willing to do anything for that. Not just Hunk, but I think all the paladins would do something drastic for this cause. He pursues it by doing what he can to make himself better at his job, whether that be training, studying, or finding methods to cope with panic on the battlefield.

45. Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic? 

Pragmatic: yes. Think first: yes. Responsible: … mostly. All action: definitely not. Visionary: depends on your definition. Passionate: yes. Quixotic: nope.

If given the chance, Hunk likes to learn everything he can about the situation and how dangerous it is; and decide whether or not entering the situation is worth it in the first place. He also likes to have a plan. He’s pretty good at coming up with them himself, but odds are he feels more confident simply making suggestions rather than formulating one.

46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body?

Hunk is very tall, second in height only to Shiro, standing at 6′3″. He’s definitely overweight ( read, overweight, not obese. there is a HUGE difference that some people don’t seem to realize ) with a ton of muscle mass. His posture isn’t exactly great, but he’s not constantly slumping either.

For the most part, Hunk loves himself. He knows how strong he is, he knows how cute he is too. However when he was younger, and occasionally still today, he becomes really aware of how much space he takes up and gets really anxious about it. Bullies are an entirely different thing; those moments were the only times he felt genuinely shamed or self-conscious about his size. It’s a pretty harsh dig at your confidence to be humiliated during school.

[meggannn]

@keelificent asked me about why i think earthborn!shepard would be wary of garrus in mass effect 1 and phew here i go *cracks knuckles*

obviously this is subject to everyone’s shepard, particularly paragon or para-leaning earthborn shepards, cause maybe interpretations of renegade shepards don’t give a fuck about this kind of thing. my eb shepard is kind of hardened but still (or tries to be) para-leaning, mostly come out of a self-driven desire to atone to make up for her frankly embarrassing past as a delinquent (in her own eyes).

so anyway. any gangster would obviously be wary of cops, even the ones who run mildly inoffensive crimes, like the lookouts, or participants in petty theft or vandilism. it sounds like space capitalism and classism are still huge in the me ‘verse (and i’m assuming racism is still kicking as well, even if most of the population is poc or mixed), so i don’t imagine humans will have solved their corruption problems by the 2170s. you don’t even have to be a felon or live on the streets to be wary of cops, but for a teenager in a gang, yeah, i imagine there’d be an instinctual urge to bolt at the first sign of a badge; bolt, or play the distractor/actor, the one stalling for time and pacifying while the others scram.

maybe earthborn shepard’s been arrested before, maybe not. but either way i don’t think they would’ve had to have been to develop an instinctual reaction to be wary of cops. and keeping in mind that this is still earth, it’s not just out of fear of being thrown in prison or a foster home -- but i imagine shepard is also well aware of the cops to avoid from rumors of police brutality and corruption. i don’t think that kind of wariness ever leaves someone after they grow up with it during formative years, considering their life relied on a) not getting caught, and if you can’t avoid that, then b) not getting caught by one of the bad ones.

fast-forward 11 years....... commander shepard walks to the top of the steps in the citadel tower. shepard is now a disciplined well-respected marine with a distinguished record. they fight to make the galaxy a safer place. they worked hard to be where they’re at. she meets a cop at the top of the steps. old habits can still die hard.

gonna just commit to using ‘she’ here to distinguish this is now my shepard’s reactions she meets a cop who introduces himself as the detective behind investigating the spectre-turned-possible-terrorist saren arterius. vakarian is polite and respectful, but frustrated. he’s got no evidence, no records, just working on instinct. he ‘feels it in his gut.’ shepards can have a lot of reactions to meeting garrus vakarian for the first time, but aside from the instinctual urge to be cautious of trusting a cop, mine mostly logs his presence away as a mental note to possibly contact later.

the next time she meets garrus vakarian, he uses her entrance as a distraction to take the first shot on a gang of thugs holding a witness hostage. it’s clear vakarian has now gone rogue to work the investigation on his own terms. you properly dispense the bad guys and he thanks you at the end. “perfect timing! gave me a clear shot at that bastard.” the fact that he made a pinpoint shot with a handgun and little time to prep is either exemplary skill, or complete luck. either way, it was still a dangerous move -- the bullet struck less than a hand’s breath from the witness’s skull.

so log him in her brain now as ‘skilled but reckless.’ not really the kind of qualities you want in a policeman. also: he has no problem playing judge, jury, and executioner. i mean yeah, she would’ve killed the thug too, cause he had a gun to the hostage’s skull and engaged them in a firefight, but again, vakarian made the first shot. (we, the audience, know that this random npc was dead anyway and garrus had the right of it, but shepard doesn’t know that when she walks into the room. maybe she could’ve interrogated them to find out more about their orders from the broker.)

so shepard can chew him out for risking the hostage’s life, and he says “there wasn’t time to think, i just reacted.” which imo is probably just sloppy writing, because you’d think think a turian policeman would have better discipline than that, though again, ymmv on how wide the gap is between turian and human socialization and discipline. (personally i feel it’s more in character to have planned out his moves during that waiting time before shepard enters and made a calculated shot, but still accepted the risk that he might hit dr michel nonetheless.)

michel talks about tali’zorah and fist, with officer vakarian filling in context and other details he found from his investigation. this guy is so antsy to lock saren down he’s practically vibrating. which is not a bad thing, because you want a policeman to be driven by a drive to put dangerous people behind bars. but again! reckless.

“this is your show, shepard. but i want to bring saren down as much as you do. i’m coming with you.” okay, vakarian, but i just MET you. what are your qualifications, or am i only bringing you on as an attaché for saren info? are you a good shot, or just lucky? can i count on you to reign in the excitement if civilian lives are at stake?

you can’t ask him any of this because bioware wasn’t thinking of these questions in 2007; you’re limited to “okay,” “hit the road josé,” and “why do you care so much, bro?” his response to the last two makes it pretty obvious that he’s driven by a sheer desire to see justice served: saren is a criminal. his actions have killed people, and his current freedom puts more lives at stake. and he’s getting away with it. also, “he’s a disgrace to my people.” if shepard has read her codex or talked to literally any turian for two seconds by now, she knows turians are a very proud, disciplined, and (theoretically) honorable people. that saren is a criminal and that he is using the system designed to help people to disguise his crimes, is eating vakarian alive.

at this point you could ask my earthborn shep “why take him at all if you don’t trust him to play by the rules?” the answer to that is

she believes in this moment that he is, at his core, genuinely driven by a desire to do good with his job, with casualties as an afterthought to the main goal. she still dislikes that attitude immensely, coming an earthborn background, it means she once was one of those ‘little people’ that police often disregarded in pursuing their targets, but she believes at least now that maybe she can get him to remember they’re not just chasing saren because he’s a Designated Bad Guy, they’re chasing him because his actions wiped out a colony and his plans clearly involve more bloodshed. in other words, it’s about protecting people, not winning against the bad guy, and she thinks he can be nudged back into that direction with appeals to his honor code, which he does seem to have.

if she says “no you can’t come,” she doesn’t put it past him not to leave c-sec and pursue saren on his own. maybe their paths would cross, maybe not, but she already has evidence he’s willing to go against orders, come armed to a clinic, and shoot up criminals without clearance from his boss. what if he decided to go chasing down saren on his own?

for however dangerous his move was, he does have good instincts. that ‘gut feeling’ was absolutely correct: he was right to come to the clinic, and was in the right place at the right time to make the shot. could’ve been luck, but just as likely could’ve been skill.

he’s a little aggressive and presumptuous, but still respectful of her and her command. turians are trained to defer to superiors, aren’t they? well, he did just defy orders to keep investigating, but that was because he knew saren was guilty and it was a bad call. honestly, she probably would’ve done the same thing. shit, okay, she just talked herself into saying yes.

and that was meeting two. i can’t help but think her opinion of garrus vakarian..... doesn’t really get much better until maybe the end of mass effect 1. i’m not gonna summarize every conversation they have in the cargo bay, but you probably remember the gist, and we know what me1!garrus is like: he’s eager to prove himself, constantly puts his foot in his mouth, is over the moon to work outside the law, and is kind of obviously projecting his spectre fantasy onto shepard. talks constantly about how he doesn’t see why the law should get in the way of doing what’s right.

okay, shepard can agree with that. she grew up in a literal sewer; she knows morality can (and if you’re para-leaning, should) be put above the law.

“and also!” garrus vakarian says, “also, these damn rules get in the way of doing my job. if my orders are to take in a suspect, why should it matter how i do it, so long as i do?”

“uh,” says shepard, thinking of the millions of corrupt cops back on earth who banged her head as they shoved her into the backseat of their car, pepper sprayed her friends -- not because she believes this of him, but because her mind jumps to the worst out of familiarity with seeing corruption from the bottom, and a fear that this is who he might become if she doesn’t handle this very, very carefully. vakarian seems to look up to her, for some unfathomable reason. he values what she has to say. she has to treat him respectfully, but she will make herself clear that collateral damage is not tolerated in her missions.

also, uh, it’d be stupid for her to ignore that compared to everyone else on board, this boy is like the most privileged one in galactic society. a turian cop (with a detective father well distinguished for his service) is already in a position of power over half of the ground team, but a turian who’s from the capital city of the turian home planet who lives at a station at the heart of the citadel with a badge and a lifetime of xenophobic microaggressions to learn to get over... like, no wonder tali and wrex weren’t fond of those elevator conversations, lmao.

i want to be clear, i don’t think my earthborn!shepard dislikes garrus in me1. she sees a lot of herself in him. they’re both disciplined but easily frustrated, driven by strong sense of duty and justice, don’t mind breaking a few eggs to get there -- imo a para-leaning earthborn!shepard has just seen more examples of what happens when higher ups cut corners. people like orphans suffer. people like who she was suffer. some of them don’t survive. so she tries to sort of.... nudge him into what she thinks is the right path without stomping all over his personality. i think she does value individuality and his opinions, more than blind obedience, so it is a dialogue, but she wants him to hear her. and when he tells her he’s going to reapply to spectre training and go back to c-sec in the meantime, and that he’s learned a lot, she’s genuinely glad to hear it.

anyway that’s my longass response to your prompt. i fully acknowledge this interpretation of garrus, even early-stage underdeveloped garrus (compared to me2/3), is probably an unpopular opinion, and possibly an uncomfortable one considering real-life parallels, so i apologize if i sound disrespectful. part of my attempts at broadening lore within this universe include addressing social differences that bioware mentions but drops the ball on (e.g., turians and asari having privilege over other races), so this is just like the result of some of those thoughts to bring a little sense of realism to this universe. and of course, ymmv with different types of earthborn shepards and how they would react to having a cop on board -- i’m not arguing this is is reflective of all, just how i see mine.

anyway it’s ok because they get much closer on the sr2. and after the war, things are good, until garrus offhandedly mentions his dad used to be deputy chief of one of the largest wards on the citadel, well known for gang and felon activity, and shepard closes her eyes, thinks of all of those ASBOs she racked up, knows with every fibre of her being that somewhere out in the galaxy castis vakarian has found out about their relationship and is scouring the extranet for her public history both after her enlistment and before, and while garrus continues talking unaware, she part of her dreads the day she does finally meet vakarian sr in person. buuuut that’s a story for another time.

[msvulnerable-mystory]

FINDING PEACE ON THE INSIDE - #1 PRIORITY FOR MY MENTAL HEALTH IS FORGIVENESS FOR MYSELF FOR MY MISTAKES

1. What things will you NOT miss about the relationship and the person you were with?

I will not miss feeling REJECTED! I will not miss feeling EXPOSED! I will not miss feeling lonely, alone, even though I had a boyfriend and partner. I will not miss feeling isolated and misunderstood. I will not miss feeling unimportant. I will not miss not being a priority. I will not miss the arguing. I will not miss the weekly heart aches, disappointment and REJECTION! Reflecting back, it seemed as if Lee and I had different thought processes and beliefs. I was willing to move to make a relationship better and to improve our lives. He didn’t want to take any next steps together because of our fighting, arguing, bickering and disagreements. I will take ownership of starting the arguments, the majority of the time. I was pretending that our relationship was better and healthier than it truly was. I wanted to move forward and onto the next step in our lives, so by living in a fantasy world of our relationship, our communication (OR LACK OF IT), our lack of effort and our arguing was consistently, EVERY WEEK. I will not miss feeling undeserving and less than Lee and that I was never going to find a guy like him again. Ultimately, I was willing to move states, change jobs, my life to be with Lee and he didn't communicate to me that he was willing to make equal or similar changes in his life. The actions or non actions, the lack of effort to see me or to be together was obvious that we were disconnected. We didn't and do not want the same things in life, in terms of family, the possibility of children. Even if we didn't have children, I wanted the opportunity, the choice, the ability to decide. I felt as though he wasn't willing to provide this piece of the puzzle for me. I felt as though it was a consistent no with Lee. Including with the most sensitive, emotional and very personal life issues or situations, Lee communicated no. He didn’t communicate that he was open or flexible. It’s felt like a consistent blatant NO or I don’t know if I want kids or I’m not ready, right now. I translated that into, let’s give it time. If I’m in the same house as Lee and if we grow closer, he’ll fall more in love and be attached. Lee rarely communicated his attachment to me. The attachment weakened, as we argued more. The tension was thick and he was getting advice and conversations from his inner circle that they approved of us not taking the next step because we “fought constantly!” Personally, to me, in my heart of hearts, when two people love one another, it’s natural and human to think about making a human together. It’s the sweetest GIFT and SENTIMENT. As a woman, this is the number one sign of being in love and committing to that person. Personally, as a woman in my late thirties, it’s the ultimate gift and symbol of love. Making a tribe together.

2. What things WILL you miss and why? Oftentimes, the things we miss are how we felt within the relationship, not the actual person themselves.

I will miss having a companion to share stories with. I will miss the conversations with someone whom I thought “got me.” I will miss the silent support Lee provided. I will miss traveling together. Exploring this country together. I will miss feeling like I was a part of a team, working towards a common goal to be together and be life partners. It was a fantasy that I was dreaming of and conjuring by myself about our future and the potential our future held. There was so much hope. This was definitely part of my fantasy story in my fantasy world that I have been in for the last year. I wasn’t practical or realistic about the facts of our love story. I made words and actions mean what I wanted them to signify to keep our story alive.

3. What negative things did you contribute to the relationship? Which of your actions made things worse? It's extremely important to acknowledge your responsibility here - blaming one person for the downfall of the relationship is an impossibility.

I contributed to the argumentative communication. I take ownership of starting fights to "scream" for attention or if I didn't feel listed to or noticed or appreciated, which after months of negative long distance interacting and phone calls that ended with fighting, arguing, attacking or projecting and blaming. I would hold a grudge from something that I felt wronged for and I would attempt to move on and past it, but because there was never a sincere apology or ownership taken or any in person discussions, arguments got more serious and more toxic. I own that I had the tone to start off the conversations. I was bitter and it came across. I lived in a fantasy world, where I told myself that if we lived in the same city, we would be harmonious. The arguing was 90% to 10%. Lee avoided, over committed and would just not call or check in if he was out drinking or socializing. He would call the next day. That happened quite a bit. He would look for reasons to not talk. I didn't enjoy our conversations. I felt like I was getting graded and that he would talk about me negatively to people he is close with. When we would argue, he would say that people didn't like us being together. Apparently, Lee is perfect and is avoidance because it's not arguing is acceptable. His people enable him. Bet he never told Maria or Dan how much I cared for him, what I was willing to do to be together, how faithful and loyal I was, bet they never heard those positive traits.

4. What would you differently if you had it to do again?

If I did it all over again, what would I do? This is a layered questions. First, I'd be more friendly, harmonious, peaceful and accepting. I would change my tone in conversations to be welcoming and warm, so that I brought us together and didn't exacerbate the distance and disconnection with  temperamental moody and emotional conversations. I would be a better listener. I would instill patience. I would stop interpreting friendship actions for being in love. I would have recognized much sooner the different things in our future we wanted. I would have separated from this relationship earlier this year, when I realized we weren't compatible, probably around April. I stayed with him because of my testing and diagnosis and then I had to tuck my tail between my legs and swallow my pride when I was diagnosed. So much guilt. So much shame. 

5. What relationship skills do you need to strengthen for the next time you're in a relationship?

Being open, non judgmental and willing to listen. Being conversational, kind and respectful. Being consistently respectful and speaking the same to my partner whether someone is listening or not. Not speaking in a toxic tone to my partner. Not having the moodiness or anger. Recognizing if we aren't compatible, then take the steps to separate sooner rather than making excuses, justifying negative behaviors and building up resentment.

6. Write down the following emotions and how they pertain and relate to your ex and yourself:

Guilt - I probably made Lee feel guilty at times to try to get through to him what my emotions were. I felt like, otherwise, he didn't understand my feelings or why I would get upset. Anger - There was a lot of anger from me. I own that I had 80% of the anger and that was really pain and hurt underneath, but I showed it with angry and fighting words. Happiness - We weren't "happy." Period. Literally, the word never came off our tongues. Blame - We both justify and blame one another for the mistakes that were made. Fear - lots of fear of rejection, fear of not be accepted, fear of abandonment on my part. I cant' speak for Lee on his fears. He had fears about not succeeding in his career. Love - we do care and love each other as friends. Denial - I lived in denial and in my fantasy love soap opera. It was more sad to let go of the potential of a future than our actual relationship. We didn't have a physical bond. Hatred - There were lots of moments of hate. Pain - the anger I showed was pain underneath Joy - very rarely did  I feel joy with Lee. Depression  - all the time, consistently in a funky depression.

7. Are there things you want to be forgiven for? Are you willing to forgive yourself? 8. Are you willing to forgive your ex for the things they were responsible for? 8. What did your ex and your relationship teach you that you're grateful for? 9. How are you stronger and wiser through this experience?