#to explain that last bit in a tiny bit more detail

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

i feel like noting something rn for the non-brazilians

rozzi’s journal has a moment that implies she was nicknamed bela/bella (from isabela, or isabella, depends on whether the parent is close or distant from the brazilian equivalent of kayghtleighn parents, which is something like my sister’s classmate who was named ysabelly)

that wouldn’t happen, i think. i’ve only ever seen isa as a nickname for isabela. partially because, like

you know how calling someone bella is like ooo it sounds ~foreign~ so americans pull that shit all the time in media with a foreigner that’d speak french, italian, or spanish when they’re flirting with a lady?

it’s not a foreign word here. when directed towards a person it’s basically like saying they’re gorgeous or beautiful. brazilian translation of beauty in beauty and the beast is bela

it’s choosing to call a little girl a word that deliberately means beautiful. yeah, there’s non-weird connotations, but it would sound kinda weird and a bit creepy, so if you had the choice you’d just pick the other part of the name that will not sound weird

realistically she’d be nicknamed isa and to me it’s mildly funny that they could not get the names 100% right every time because of a technicality

[solxamber]

Summer Nights with: Housewardens + Jamil

Riddle Rosehearts: Sunset Picnic

The beach is glowing in the soft, honeyed light of the setting sun as you and Riddle set up your little picnic. The spread he prepared is impressive—tiny sandwiches cut to geometrically perfect triangles, fresh fruit neatly sliced, and, of course, a beautiful tea set because Riddle wouldn’t dare let you drink from anything less.

He’s organized every detail down to the napkins, each one folded with the kind of precision only Riddle could manage on a sandy beach.

“Everything looks amazing, Riddle,” you say, grinning as he finishes laying out the plates. You reach for one of the sandwiches, hesitating, and he gives you a small nod of approval, that familiar little quirk of his lips barely there but unmistakably proud. It’s a face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, and it fills you with a warm, giddy feeling.

“I wanted to ensure everything was perfect,” he says, a little stiff but earnest. “Picnics require planning and, naturally, precise arrangements.” He starts to explain why certain foods pair better with the salty sea air, but you can’t stop watching the light catch in his red hair, the way it glows warm and bright as the sun dips lower. You try not to laugh too loudly when he catches you staring, stumbling over his words as his face flushes a deeper red than you thought possible.

It’s when you’re halfway through a pastry that a gull decides to make a surprise swoop in for an attempt at dessert. Riddle bats it away with the napkin he’d just set perfectly, muttering something about “unacceptable behavior from public wildlife” before composing himself and offering you his arm for a stroll along the beach. It’s such a typical Riddle response that you have to bite back a laugh, feeling a strange, happy ache in your chest.

You link arms with him, and the two of you start walking along the shoreline as the sun continues to melt into the horizon. He’s close, close enough that his shoulder bumps yours with each step, and you feel the warmth radiate from him even as a cool evening breeze begins to settle in. Riddle is quiet for a few moments, looking out toward the waves, his face soft and thoughtful.

“This evening is…” he begins, and you can tell he’s searching for the right words. “It’s quite…pleasant, isn’t it?”

You smile at his careful choice of words, a classic understatement. “Riddle, you’ve outdone yourself. It’s perfect,” you say, squeezing his arm.

He relaxes a bit, giving you that tiny, almost shy smile he only shares when you’re alone like this. “I’m…glad you’re enjoying yourself. It isn’t often that I get to do something so…free,” he admits, glancing away as his ears pinken.

You walk on in comfortable silence, letting your feet sink into the cool sand. The only sounds are the gentle crash of waves and the soft squish of your steps. And then, impulsively, you let go of his arm, running forward to splash through the shallow waves. He stares, caught off guard, before breaking into a smile that’s full and bright, his laugh surprising and infectious as he watches you dodge the incoming surf.

“Come on, Riddle!” you call, extending a hand toward him. “No rules, remember?”

He hesitates only a second before slipping off his shoes and stepping in, a bit awkward but determined as he lets you pull him along. He doesn’t protest as the water laps around his ankles, nor does he scold you when you pull him right into a particularly big wave. His only response is a rare, playful smile as he lifts an arm to shield himself from the splash, then softly grips your hand, steadying you both as you stumble from laughing.

The stars begin to dot the sky, and the last traces of sunlight fade to a gentle indigo. Riddle’s voice is soft when he speaks next. “I never would have done something like this,” he admits, his eyes on the distant waves. “Not until you… You’ve changed my life in more ways than I thought possible.”

Your heart flutters, and the sincerity in his gaze makes it impossible to joke, even though your instinct is to lighten the moment. “You mean everything to me, Riddle. Really.”

His hand tightens in yours, his expression shifting to something so tender it makes your breath catch. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice barely a whisper. “I never thought I’d feel so…so at ease. Especially not here with—well, anyone.” He clears his throat, looking away briefly before meeting your gaze again, his eyes soft, vulnerable in a way that makes your heart race.

You stand there in silence, lost in each other’s eyes, the cool waves washing over your feet. Eventually, Riddle leans forward, brushing a soft, lingering kiss against your forehead. It’s delicate, hesitant, as if he’s savoring each second.

When he pulls back, he lets out a tiny breath, then nods, his cheeks a lovely shade of pink. “Shall we continue?” he asks, the corners of his mouth lifting in a gentle, almost bashful smile.

You nod, linking arms once more as you walk back, each step filled with an unspoken promise, the kind of love that feels more boundless than the sea itself.

Leona: Stargazing

The night’s air was soft and warm, perfect for lying under the stars. Leona and you had managed to find a quiet spot, away from the crowds and even farther from prying eyes, just outside the city’s lights. Blankets spread across the grass, you leaned back, letting the cool, green scent of the earth mix with the distant murmur of the breeze.

Leona, as usual, looked like he belonged in this setting. Reclining with his arm lazily behind his head, green eyes half-lidded as he looked up at the stars, he didn’t seem even remotely distracted. Which was rare. You couldn’t help but grin at how relaxed he was, how right he looked there next to you, his expression unusually soft.

“Didn’t think stargazing was your thing,” you said, letting your hand find his.

A low chuckle rumbled from him, almost like he was barely holding it back. “You’re right. It’s not. Only reason I’m here is ‘cause you are.”

His words should’ve sounded casual, but there was something in his tone that made you want to melt. With Leona, compliments were rare but always real, always hitting a little deeper than you expected.

You turned your face to the stars for a moment, letting his words settle like an extra layer of warmth. The sky was thick with them tonight, a kind of quiet show for the two of you. “Aren’t you at least a little bit curious, though? You know, about what’s out there?”

“Not really. Stars are just lights, herbivore. I don’t see the big deal,” he replied, then, after a pause, added with a smirk, “But… I’m more interested in what’s right here.”

Of course. Right on cue. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that so?” you teased, poking him in the ribs with an elbow.

“Watch it,” he muttered, his fingers lacing with yours and holding you in place. His grip was firm but warm, and there was something so steady, so grounding about the way he held your hand, his fingers curling protectively around yours.

You leaned into his side, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest, the steadiness of his presence right next to you. For a guy who claimed he didn’t care much about stargazing, he was certainly taking his time.

The night deepened, and you felt yourself slipping into a comfortable haze. The silence was sweet, each passing minute less about the stars and more about just being near each other. And then, you caught him looking at you, his usual smirk replaced by a softer gaze. His expression was one you rarely saw, one that felt completely genuine, like he didn’t even realize you’d caught him.

“What are you staring at?” you whispered, a little more breathlessly than you intended.

His smirk returned, but his tone was quieter, less playful, as he murmured, “Nothing that isn’t mine already.”

It was impossible not to smile, to feel the warmth blooming across your face. But before you could come up with a reply, he’d tugged you down into his arms, wrapping himself around you in a way that left absolutely no space between the two of you. The stars felt almost irrelevant now, each one fading in comparison to the feeling of him beside you.

And as the night stretched on, you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, surrounded by stars and held by a silence that felt like home.

Azul Ashengrotto: Moonlit Dance

The beach is bathed in moonlight, and you’re wrapped in a soft, intimate silence with Azul, the night stretching around you like it’s been painted just for this moment. The waves lap gently against the shore, the cool sea breeze tugging at your clothes, and in the quiet, Azul extends his hand, his gaze soft and almost shy.

“Would you… dance with me?” he asks, his voice as soft as the night.

You slide your hand into his, feeling his fingers tighten slightly as he leads you into a slow, graceful rhythm under the stars. There’s a tenderness in his every movement, a carefulness, as if he’s afraid you might vanish if he doesn’t hold you close enough. He glances down, just barely meeting your eyes, and the slightest blush colors his cheeks, bringing a sweet warmth to his normally composed features.

As the two of you sway, he lets out a quiet laugh, his gaze turning to the horizon. "I must admit, dancing here... under the stars... feels like something out of a dream."

"Then let’s make it one we won’t wake up from," you whisper, leaning in just a bit closer.

For a while, you dance in silence, and then—seemingly gathering his courage—Azul spins you and, with a soft breath, dips you low, his eyes wide as he holds you steady. His face is so close to yours, every detail softened by the moonlight, and he swallows, clearly flustered yet smiling. You can’t help but laugh, and he joins you, his voice a low, warm hum that fills the air between you.

Before you know it, you’re pulling him into a dip of his own, and he lets out a surprised, quiet laugh, gripping your arms as you bring him back up. You’re both laughing softly now, and he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek as his smile softens.

Without another word, he leans in, closing the distance between you with a kiss, gentle and warm, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, quiet promise. It’s a kiss that says everything he sometimes struggles to put into words, a sweetness that speaks of his care, his love, his wonder at being here with you.

When you part, his gaze remains locked on yours, his thumb brushing softly over your hand. "I never thought… I would ever share a moment like this with someone,” he murmurs, his voice so sincere it makes your heart ache a little.

You smile, bringing your forehead to his, feeling the warmth of his breath, the softness of his hands holding you close. "Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me for a few more dances."

His lips curve in a gentle, almost shy smile, but his eyes are shining as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you sway under the stars, feeling like you’re the only two people in the world.

Kalim Al-Asim: Nighttime Drive-In

Kalim’s eyes are practically sparkling as he takes in the sight of the massive outdoor screen and rows of cars, all parked under the blanket of night. “This is amazing!” he exclaims, his voice brimming with excitement as he hops out of the car. “A whole movie in a car? And we don’t even have to wear tuxedos or sit in a velvet chair?”

You laugh, grabbing his hand as he leans back into the car with a bright smile. “Not exactly the red carpet, huh?”

He shakes his head, grinning ear to ear. “Way better. It’s like our own secret world here!” He gestures to the backseat, which, thanks to him, is overflowing with an assortment of treats—popcorn, candy, nachos, sodas, even a small box of cupcakes. "I didn't know what snacks people usually get, so I just brought everything!"

“Of course you did,” you chuckle, squeezing his hand. “You know, they usually sell snacks here.”

“Oh!” His face lights up. “Then we should buy some more! I can hand them out to people—it’ll be fun!” And with that, he’s already leaning out the window, cheerfully offering snacks to anyone in earshot. A few nearby people laugh, some take him up on the offer, and soon, Kalim’s practically holding court from the car, as if the drive-in is the most thrilling event of the year.

Eventually, though, the movie starts, and Kalim settles in beside you, practically bouncing in his seat as he tries to watch the screen and point out funny moments. Every few minutes, he turns to you with wide eyes, laughing softly. “Did you see that?” he whispers, as if you weren’t sitting right there. “This is great, we need to come to these all the time!”

“You know you’re supposed to actually watch the movie, right?” you tease, bumping his shoulder.

Kalim chuckles, nudging you back. “But I don’t want to miss a second of seeing this with you. Besides,” he says with a mischievous smile, “I think this part’s way more exciting.” He takes your hand, drawing you a little closer as he intertwines your fingers. The movie fades into the background as he leans over, his laughter softening into a gentle smile that makes your heart feel like it’s about to burst.

As the night settles, the energy around you shifts, and the once-lively atmosphere turns tender and quiet. Kalim drapes a blanket over your shoulders, pulling you close so your head rests against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you protectively.

“This is kind of perfect,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, a subtle blush lighting up his cheeks as he gazes down at you with warm, adoring eyes. “Thanks for bringing me here. I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun just… being.”

You smile, lifting your head to catch his lips in a soft kiss, one that lingers longer than either of you expected. When you pull back, he’s grinning, a little dazed but more than happy. “Can we do this every night?” he whispers, fingers tracing little patterns on your arm.

“Maybe not every night,” you laugh, resting your hand against his cheek, “but definitely any time you want.”

He beams, pressing his forehead against yours. “Deal. Now, let’s make sure we finish every last snack we brought,” he says, grinning as he pops a piece of popcorn in your mouth before stealing a kiss—sweeter than any of the candy piled up around you.

Jamil Viper: Midnight Swim

The night air is cool, and the water looks almost magical under the moonlight, its surface shimmering with soft ripples. You’re already up to your waist, playfully splashing around, but Jamil is still standing at the edge, arms crossed as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, the corners of his mouth quirking up in that half-smile you know too well. “You know, it’s not really my thing to… jump into random bodies of water at night.”

“Come on,” you laugh, waving him over. “It’s just us, the moon, and the water. Think of it as a mini adventure—no schedules, no duties.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes a little, but you can see the fondness in them. “Fine, but only because you’re stubborn.” He wades in slowly, the water barely making a ripple as he slips in beside you, his usually precise movements softened in the calm, quiet setting.

You drift closer, feeling the water carry you both into an easy rhythm. The night is silent, save for the gentle lapping of the water, and for once, Jamil looks entirely relaxed. No carefully crafted expression, no alert gaze scanning for potential chaos—just Jamil, as he is, quietly peaceful in the moonlight.

After a moment, he lets out a soft sigh, almost as if he’s finally allowing himself to enjoy it. “You know, I have to admit… I can see the appeal,” he murmurs, glancing over at you with a rare, unguarded smile. “Feels like everything just… stops.”

The two of you float side by side, comfortable in the quiet, and bit by bit, he starts talking. About little moments from his day, funny memories he normally wouldn’t share, dreams he usually keeps close to his chest. It’s as if the night, the water, and your presence have created a place where he feels safe enough to let go.

When you reach out to brush a wet strand of hair from his face, he doesn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, he leans into your touch, his gaze softening as he catches your hand, holding it against his cheek.

“Thank you,” he says softly, a hint of emotion in his voice. “For convincing me to try something new.” His fingers trace a light pattern along your wrist, and there’s something almost reverent in his expression as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours with a warmth that makes you feel like you’re floating.

As you part, he chuckles, sounding almost shy. “I’ll admit… it was worth getting a little out of my comfort zone.”

You grin, leaning into his side as the two of you drift together, his arm wrapping around you to hold you close. In the moonlit water, his usual guardedness has slipped away, leaving just the two of you sharing a rare, quiet peace. As he presses another gentle kiss to your temple, you feel your heart swell, more than a little in love with the rare, beautiful serenity of the moment—and the way he’s finally, finally letting you see his softer side.

Vil Schoenheit: Bonfire Night

The scene is perfect from the start. Vil has every detail arranged with flawless precision: the bonfire flickers elegantly, framed by a semi-circle of blankets, and an artful spread of chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows gleams in the firelight. He turns to you with a graceful smile, gesturing for you to sit, and you can’t help but think that if anyone can make s’mores look like a scene out of a classic romance, it’s Vil.

The night air is warm, and as Vil carefully toasts a marshmallow, he holds it over the fire with a practiced elegance. The marshmallow never catches flame, never bubbles too much—it’s a perfect golden brown. Watching him concentrate on such a simple act, his face softened by the glow, feels almost like an intimate privilege, as if he’s revealing something vulnerable just by indulging in this little tradition.

But the fun really begins when he offers you his masterpiece. “Now, this is how a marshmallow should look,” he murmurs, extending it with all the poise of someone handing over a rare delicacy. You take a bite, nodding seriously, though the gooey marshmallow nearly sticks to your lips. Vil looks on with amusement, laughing softly at the sight. “I suppose there’s charm in the chaos of s’mores after all,” he muses.

After a few rounds of attempting his perfection, he starts loosening up, even experimenting by making one for himself that’s just a little… charred. “Careful,” you tease him, nudging his shoulder, “you’re about to get soot on that spotless track record of yours.”

He laughs, a rare, unguarded laugh that sparkles in the quiet night. “Tonight, I think I’ll allow it,” he says, before diving into his treat, unbothered by the crumbs or the faint stickiness left on his fingers. The firelight dances across his face, catching every angle with a golden glow, and you’re struck by the warmth in his smile, a stark contrast to his usual poise.

At some point, as you’re leaning back against the blanket, he pulls you closer, arms wrapped loosely around you, and you feel his cheek brush against your hair. “It’s strange,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, “to think that I’d find this much contentment out here—no scripts, no cameras, just you and a fire.” There’s a note in his voice that makes your heart squeeze, a raw sincerity that cuts through the night.

With Vil’s hand resting on yours, and the stars stretching endlessly above, you’re content to sit in the comfortable quiet. You trade stories back and forth, and for once, Vil lets himself be a little dramatic—tales of travels and encounters, where he plays up the details just to make you laugh.

By the time you’re on your last s’more, Vil’s once-pristine fingertips are as sticky as yours, and he’s practically laughing at himself for it. “A worthy sacrifice,” he says, smiling at the mess, then glances up at you, eyes alight with something warm, tender, and unguarded.

Before you know it, he’s leaned in, lips meeting yours in a sweet, unhurried kiss. The fire crackles softly, framing you both in a bubble of warmth, and for a moment, it feels like you’re the only two people in the world.

Idia Shroud: Late night ice cream date

The sky is velvet dark, pinpricked with stars, as you and Idia share a late-night ice cream outing. After the shops have closed, you end up at a deserted park, with only the soft hum of streetlights and the occasional flicker of a firefly. It's quiet and perfect for sneaking glances at each other without anyone else around to notice.

Idia looks adorably awkward, like he’s calculating every step to make sure it goes exactly right, but the way he holds your hand gives him away. His fingers fit between yours, warm and a little shaky, and each time you look over, he’s already looking at you, cheeks flushed. "I—I didn't think anyone else would actually enjoy this level of, uh... casual," he murmurs, glancing at the night around you like it’s a new phenomenon.

You laugh, squeezing his hand. "Idia, it’s perfect. And the ice cream is a solid bonus."

He relaxes a bit, venturing a small smile, even though he’s keeping his eyes carefully on his mint-chocolate chip. "I kinda thought I'd be the only one cool with midnight ice cream runs in a creepy empty park." His awkward chuckle is laced with hope, like he’s waiting for a hint that this really is something special for you.

"It’s exactly my vibe," you say earnestly, leaning just a little closer. "Besides, getting ice cream with you feels... well, like magic."

He doesn’t miss a beat, eyes lighting up at that. "Magic, huh? Guess I’ll take that as an S-rank compliment." He steals a quick glance your way, and for a second, his face softens, like he’s letting himself believe this perfect moment is real. He’s a mix of nerves and quiet confidence, daring himself to be this close to someone who, for some reason he’s still baffled by, loves him.

Finally, as you both settle down on a bench under a streetlamp that flickers like it’s unsure of itself, he clears his throat, still holding your hand. "I never thought...well, I didn’t think I’d get to do this kinda stuff," he says, the words a bit shy. "It’s like... in my head, this was always just some 'maybe someday' scenario."

With a gentle smile, you tilt his chin up just slightly, so his eyes meet yours. "Idia," you whisper, "you’re more than ‘maybe someday’ to me. You’re here now."

There’s a spark of bravery in his eyes as he closes the last inch between you, leaning in for a soft, tentative kiss. The taste of mint chocolate lingers, and his hand in yours trembles, but he doesn’t pull away. When you both break apart, he’s blushing, but his smile’s one of quiet wonder.

"Okay, okay," he mutters, laughing nervously, "I think I could get used to this..."

Malleus Draconia: Firefly Hunting

The air is thick with summer warmth, and a soft, whispering breeze trails through the trees as you and Malleus stroll into the clearing. Fireflies dot the shadows, little beacons of light sparking up and winking out, and Malleus’s eyes light up with unmistakable delight. He stands there for a moment, captivated, before glancing down at you with an almost childlike wonder in his gaze.

“These tiny lights,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. “They remind me of stars that dared to fall closer to earth.”

You laugh softly. "I’m not sure they’d like being compared to stars, but I see it."

Malleus grins, a hint of mischief in his eyes, and with a subtle flick of his fingers, a soft, verdant glow ripples from his hand. Suddenly, the fireflies seem to double, then triple, in number, painting the entire clearing in an ethereal light. A thousand tiny stars dance around you, and you can’t help but let out a gasp, the world feeling like a fairytale brought to life.

“Now they’re stars,” he whispers, pulling you close as you gaze up in awe at the enchanting scene he’s created. “Just for you, and just for tonight.”

Your fingers intertwine as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close in the flickering, gentle light. You both watch the fireflies in companionable silence, each moment feeling as if it’s stretching out forever. Occasionally, he brushes his fingers over your arm, his touch as soft as the summer night itself.

“Malleus,” you say softly, feeling a grin start to play on your lips, “you’ve got to tell me, have you done this whole ‘summon the stars’ thing for other people?”

He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I assure you, I have not.” He dips his head, his eyes meeting yours with that unwavering intensity that always makes you feel like he sees right through to your soul. “No one else has ever made me feel as you do. With you, magic feels… natural.”

Your heart skips a beat, and before you know it, he’s pulled you even closer, leaning in until his forehead is resting gently against yours. There’s an honesty in his gaze that feels as warm as the summer night, as everlasting as the stars. Without a word, you close the space between you, meeting his lips in a kiss as soft as a breath.

The world around you fades—the fireflies, the trees, even the quiet hum of nature itself. All that remains is the warmth of his embrace and the gentle press of his lips against yours, tender and heartfelt, and the promise of endless moments like this.

When you pull back, you see him looking down at you with a soft, almost incredulous smile. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “For this night. For…” He trails off, as though searching for words big enough, magical enough, to describe the happiness you’ve given him.

“Anytime,” you reply, voice barely above a whisper as you smile back. “But I’m holding you to that firefly magic for next time too.”

With a low laugh, he gives a small nod. “Then I shall make it a thousand more.”

Masterlist

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

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

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

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

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

Fanfiction Lingo

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(N/N) - Nickname

~

“Normal speech.”

‘Inner thoughts.’

~

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

Part I - [My first addition] → Here

Part II → You’re here!

~

Reader Gender: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

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

Word Count: 24K

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you did that to me not ev—,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Timeskip ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, you knew that much, but still!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am being sweet.” Vlad defended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guess he didn’t appreciate being called pretty.

Would he have preferred gorgeous?

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

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

Shatter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not sure anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There! Feel any better?” Mirko prodded.

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

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

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

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

Woah. That’s new. That was aggressive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You might be his outlet.

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

“Oh no, hon, it’s fine—,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” Rumi snapped with a frigid simper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh no.

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

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

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

Doors banged and the yelling grew louder.

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

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

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

And just like that, you were gone.

~ To Be Continued… ~

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

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

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

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

<3 — Tag List — <3

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

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

It's a bit long - maybe it a two-parter? But reader is in love with Eddie and tries to show him, sending him love notes in his locker but he thinks (hopes) they are from Chrissy so she decides to just give up, thinking he will never see her like that so she distances herself completely and he doesn't understand why - she even changes direction when they are about to run into each other in the corridor - and when he finally manages to confront her she just tells him "You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on" and he's like "well, how do you know that, you've never given me a chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realize you were the one sending the notes!"

Request by @somethingvicked 💞

Angst, fluff, pining.

💞

For the last two weeks you had a secret. It was something you hadn't told anyone, not even Robin.

The note in your pocket is carefully sealed in an envelope that you are going to try and sneak in Eddie's locker.

In the last few weeks you have been leaving love notes for your long time crush Eddie Munson. You had poured your heart out in the notes, it was cathartic. A way to express your feelings that were bursting to be let out and it was nice to watch the sweet smile on Eddie's face when he read the notes.

They were all signed anonymously and you disguised your handwriting just enough so that Eddie wouldn't notice it was you. To be honest you were trying to build up the courage to confess to him.

Cautiously you look around and there is a rare occurrence where the hallway is pretty much empty so you quickly rush over to Eddie's locker and slip the note in.

Heart hammering you hurry away from the locker and feel nerves swirl in your stomach. This note was different, a lot more detailed and lovey dovey than the others, you couldn't help it. You were head over heels for Eddie and even though the notes were anonymous, it felt cathartic to say how you felt.

When Eddie finds the latest note at lunch time, the whole of Hellfire is gently teasing him. His cheeks are pink but his eyes are full of excitement, and an anxiousness to know who they are from.

"Who's going to send this doofus love notes though really?" Gareth jokes and ducks to miss the pretzel thrown at his head while laughing his head off.

Then Eddie perks up, smiles dreamily and sighs. "Hey maybe they are from Chrissy?" He looks so hopeful and the words immediately crush any thoughts that you had in which he might feel the same.

Chrissy. He wanted it to be Chrissy, of course he did. She was the sweetest and prettiest girl in Hawkins High, there was no way that Eddie was immune to her charms.

It hurt you though. All this time he talked about not conforming and yet he falls for the beauty queen. Not that you could be too mad at him, it's not like anyone could help who they fell for. You wish you could have that power, to erase these feelings you have for Eddie.

The thoughts still make you feel faintly nauseated and you get up suddenly, "Sorry guys, uh headache'' it's all you can do not to run out of the cafeteria while blinking away tears.

Thank god no one saw you crying. Then you'd really have no way to explain yourself.

That night you're laying in bed and listening to the most angsty music you can find, your thoughts racing about what happened today and stomach churning at what it meant.

You knew deep down that Eddie might not feel the same and at least that was confirmed. It was time to stop indulging in dumb fantasies, it felt like the small bit of hope you had clung onto had faded and now you had given up. Eddie was never going to see you as anything more than a friend.

Maybe it was the push you needed to move on? Or at least distance yourself a tiny bit until these feelings faded.

But how long would that take? The thought of not seeing Eddie every day is awful, you don't know what to do and the worry and despair keeps you up all night.

By the morning you feel numb but full of acceptance at what you need to do.

💌

Distancing yourself from Eddie was hard. He was so ingrained in your usual routines, you were so used to seeing him practically every day that there was this ache in your chest that he wasn't around.

It didn't help that Eddie looked at you like a lost puppy and it shook your resolve every time. You missed the guys at Hellfire too, instead of your usual spot at the table you talked to Robin or Nancy, aware of eyes on you when you didn't sit down beside Eddie.

It was a catch-22, you desperately wanted these feelings to go away so things were back to normal but you missed Eddie like crazy, it felt like a piece of you was missing.

When you saw him in the corridor today, you froze and went in the other direction but you didn't miss the look on his face when you did. It was so hurt and it crushed your heart even more.

You couldn't leave things like this, you would have to say something. Eddie must be so confused and you didn't want to hurt him. But how could you explain how you felt about him, that you're the one who sent the notes?

What if finding out how you felt ruined your friendship? What if what you were doing was ending it, honestly your mind was racing a mile a minute.

Shit you haven't sent any notes in over a week, you didn't want Eddie to get his hopes up wishing it was Chrissy only to be disappointed that it was you.

Obviously you and Eddie really need to talk. Eddie must be thinking the same thing because he shows up at your house around an hour later with a determined look in his eyes.

He's angry and you can't blame him. If the situation was reversed you would feel the same. His furious gaze softens as he takes in your tears.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" His tone is gentler than you'd expect and that makes you feel worse. God you've missed him, you've really missed him.

"I'm sorry" you murmured and made your decision to tell Eddie about the notes, hoping that he wouldn't hate you. "Eddie, I-" he speaks before you can get the words out.

"I know it's you sending the notes" oh...oh shit. You're nervous so that makes you babble and grow even more flustered because you don't know how Eddie would react.

"How?" is the last question you ask and he smiles, all dimples. The smile that you love.

"When you started avoiding me after I said I hoped the notes were from Chrissy, the look on your face...I'm not stupid sweetheart, it became pretty obvious" so much for thinking that you had covered up your feelings, you should have realised eddie would figure it out.

He could be annoyingly perceptive. "I know you don't feel the same Eddie, you're panicking now so you're basically word vomiting, "I've been trying to get over these feelings so that's why I've been distant, I'm sorry"

He frowns, "Sweetheart, I don't want you to avoid me" you bite your lip, emotions rushing to the surface. Frustrated you wipe the tears that are building in your eyes.

"I don't know what else to do Eddie! You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on, I'm trying to do that so I don't mess up our friendship" you choke on the words and try to stop the tears that are blurring your eyes. he stares at you looking absolutely stunned.

"You love me?" his voice is so small and you swear there's a hopeful edge to it but you must just be imagining it.

"Yeah, I'm the one who's been sending the notes, but you wanted it to be Chrissy and like I said you don't love me like I love you so I need to move on" Eddie groan exasperated and runs his hand through his hair in frustration. It tugs on his unruly curls and he groans, once his hand is free, he's gesturing widely.

"Well how do you know that? You've never given me the chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realise you were the one sending the notes" he snaps and you're seriously frustrated.

"Because you wanted it to be Chrissy! And give you a chance to love me? You either love me or you don't Eddie. I can't just sit around on the off chance that you might feel the same way when you obviously don't"

Tears roll down your cheeks and you wipe them away shakily, you're emotionally spent and you just want to have some time for yourself.

Eddie softens and his hands are on your shoulder, soothing and tender. "You're not listening, I want a chance to love you because I am in love with you"

Oh... "You do, you reply hopeful and he nods, keeping his gaze on you. What about Chrissy?" he shakes his head and his hand moves up to caress your cheek, his gaze is soft and full of adoration.

"Just a dumb crush. I'm over her now. What I feel for you...you're all I think about sweetheart, shit I think almost losing you helped give me a uh, knock on the head" you giggle and he ducks his head looking almost shy.

"Can I kiss you?" you nod eagerly and it doesn't take long for his lips to meet yours. Eddie pulls away after a few seconds and looks completely blissed out. It's exactly how you feel. Wow.

"Shit, I am an idiot, could have been doing that for a while now if I wasn't so oblivious" you stifle a smile and he's grinning too, smiling as he kisses you again.

And again. Showing you how much he loves you.

💞💌

[creamflix]

sukuna x female reader; established relationship. pure fluff. choso has a girlfriend. choso & sukuna are besties. mentions of makeup #boyfriendmaterial men!! — masterlist here ☆ part one (choso ver.) ☆ side story (gojo ver.) ☆ side story (nanami ver.)

sukuna rolls his eyes as he picks up the tiniest jar of setting powder he’s ever seen, squinting down at the label. “the hell kinda stupid human invention is this?” he mutters under his breath, holding it between two fingers like it’s radioactive. he can already hear you teasing him in his head, calling him cute for trying to figure this stuff out, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t bring back the right one.

he glances over at choso, who’s standing nearby with that quiet look, watching sukuna struggle with some mix of amusement and sympathy. “you know any of this crap, or what?” sukuna asks, scowling at the wall of tiny jars.

choso hums and points toward a specific brand, his voice soft as ever. “the laura mercier one. she'll like it — my lady says it’s the best for keeping everything smooth.”

sukuna just stares at him, jaw ticking. “how the hell do you know that? what, did she give you a whole class on this?” he grumbles, not sure whether he’s more impressed or disturbed by the knowledge choso has just casually dropped. but choso only shrugs, looking a bit distant, like he’s remembering something.

sukuna huffs, shifting the jar in his hands, not willing to admit that, yeah, he’s impressed. “my woman’s the same,” he mutters, tossing the powder into his basket. “always needs these damn little jars. but, you know, she makes it work,” he adds, voice lowering as he remembers the way you look after you’ve taken your time, all dolled up with that smile of yours, proud and playful, asking him if he likes what he sees.

not that you need it — he’ll remind you that every damn day.

sukuna trudges through the door, the faint smell of something sweet hitting him right away, and his eyes narrow with suspicion. he knows that smell — it’s the “i’m experimenting again” smell. he follows it straight to the kitchen, and sure enough, there you are, apron on, grinning wide as you hold up a plate of cupcakes, frosting dripping slightly and the tops just a bit too brown.

“'kuna, look! i made cupcakes!” you announce, pride lighting up your face. you present him with one, and he tries to hide a smirk, taking in every last detail: the lopsided frosting, the little sprinkle explosion, the crispy edges. they look a little… unique, but it’s got your touch all over it. so, to him? perfect.

he reaches to pull out the familiar black sephora bag and hands it to you. the second you see it, your eyes light up, practically sparkling as you snatch it with a little gasp, pulling out the setting powder he’d reluctantly spent way too long picking out. "'kuna," you breathe, half-impressed, half-scolding, “you got the expensive one! didn’t need to spend that much!”

he just shrugs, bending down to wrap his arms around you, his big frame folding over your smaller one, his chin resting comfortably on your head. “don’t worry about that,” he mutters, low and gruff. “long as you’re happy, money’s nothing.”

he glances over at the dresser in your shared room, your makeup strewn near your handheld mirror. maybe he’ll take choso’s advice after all — get a front-row seat next time you’re doing your makeup. he’s got no interest in the powders and brushes, but the way you light up while explaining it all? he’d sit through a hundred lessons just to see that.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons Part 3

Keeping the ball rolling after part two, here's Lucifer and reader headcanons as baby gets ever closer to arrival. I think I'll do two more, with the last one detailing the actual birth and dear Lucy welcoming his second child. Thank you for reading and please enjoy!

Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Smut

- His dedication to soothing your aches and pains grows even faster than they do as you get further along. The wealth of information now available about pregnancy (albeit not of the supernatural variety) initially overwhelms him, but he manages to find what he needs in books about prenatal massage. It doesn't matter where or when pain strikes, he'll be there to roll up his sleeves and work as long as he needs to make sure you're better. He's happy to have a professional masseuse join the palace staff to provide the help you need, but he also just enjoys doing it himself. There's a kind of intimacy he can't explain when it comes to tending his beloved and the body you're growing his child with. It doesn't hurt that his fingers are literally magical.

- He wants the FULL stereotypical expecting-a-baby experience, so yes, he'd love to do some breathing classes with you! The King of Hell might struggle to do anything in public without attracting attention, but he manages to locate a relaxed enough class that the two of you can attend without fear of paparazzi, and he is beyond thrilled from the very first session. There's not much he can offer now and through delivery beyond support, but he intends to give 110%. Pregnant yoga is also not off the table, nor is any activity that lets the two of you bond and enjoy the experience. To a very small extent, he enjoys these sessions because he gets to be seen with you. The Sinners and Hellborn just can't help sneaking an extra look at the King and his expecting lover. He doesn't need to say a word whenever he meets the gaze of someone looking the two of you over, the proud puff of his chest says it all as he lovingly splays a hand on your belly; that's right, I pulled this.

- He wants to brainstorm names right away, and because the two of you elect to be surprised by the birth sex, a very long list of potential selections is drafted for any outcome. His tastes tend to be a bit more old fashioned, but he has a knack for choosing those whose beauty has passed the test of time. His selections are also based on humans that have caught his attention through the ages, for good and bad reasons. Charlie was named after an ancient king, for example, who stood out most to Lucifer because he managed change on a scale few can ever hope to achieve, and change was what he desired for his child above all else. As he follows the naming rule of "two yesses, one no" he listens to all of your suggestions just as eagerly, which over the months results in an increasing long piece of parchment covered in names and notes. Vetoed suggestions are crossed out and he makes a point to note any potential issues with a name in great detail, and while the process is far from streamlined, the two of you have a great deal of fun selecting a final list of favorites.

- Out of everything required to prepare the nursery, selecting baby clothes tends to get him crying from the cuteness most often. He'll hold up potential outfits and try to imagine the baby in them, and while he's got a fantastic sense of fashion, the fabulousity doesn't detract from the adorableness before him. The itty bitty booties, the tiny socks, the cute little onesies... Stars, he's going to have another perfect baby, and since they'll no doubt be as precious as Charlie was... You'll often find him tearing up but beaming in silent thought as he looks over your future child's wardrobe, and he'll always explain himself honestly; he just can't wait to enjoy another round of baby days. If only they didn't go by so quickly...

- Lots of things grow increasingly difficult as you get further along, but he's always up for the challenge of making life easier for you, especially in regards to the bedroom. A baby bump will make certain positions impossible, but that's of little consequence for a man that can bend reality and his own physical form with ease. His capacity for effortless flight makes gravity a non-issue, and where his magic hits its limit, his creativity takes over. Whatever position results in comfort and satisfaction for you will be achieved, and he thinks of plenty to be offered. With his long, forked tongue added to the mix, you need not worry about missing out, no matter how much your middle swells. If anything, he rather enjoys being on the bottom...

[daenysx]

hi darling can i request some modern!aemond like getting home after work suuper tired and just wanting to lay on the couch with his girls and then his wife made a super cute romantic dinner and shes waiting for him with baby alyssa and they have dinner and just cuddle in the couch seeing some movie and seeing their baby playing🥲

i hope you enjoy <33 requests for dad!aemond are open

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

"there it is." you say, giggling with alyssa in your arms. "they look so nice, aren't they, baby? we're gonna light them when daddy gets home."

the shiny candles are exciting for an almost two year old baby. she loves touching them, glittery surface tickles her fingertips. they are the last pieces on dinner table, a part of a nice evening you want to have with aemond. he'll be at home any minute.

"did you like your dress?" you ask alyssa as you wait. it's a red dress that fits her tiny body perfectly, her silver hair shines, and her chubby cheeks are blushed with the attention you give her. she nods, holding onto you as you fix the skirt of her dress. "you look so pretty. daddy will love this dress."

alyssa giggles. the thought of her daddy loving something must be so nice, she loves getting compliments from aemond.

you're both excited when the door finally opens. the center of attention is aemond suddenly, you're walking towards the entrance to greet him. alyssa shakes her legs excitedly, she's making cute, baby noises which never fails to make her parents smile.

aemond kisses you first. he looks a bit exhausted but he's quick to press a little kiss on the baby's cheek before leaving to wash his hands. when he comes back, the table is all set, candles are nice details.

"hello." he says to alyssa, taking her into his arms. "hi, pretty girl. how are you?"

"fine!" alyssa wraps an arm around his neck. aemond fixes the collar of her dress.

"look at your dress. don't you look gorgeous?"

"gor-geous."

he extends his free arm to you. "don't think i didn't realize your dress." he says with a flirty smile. "you look incredible."

"thank you." you give him a kiss. "you must be hungry, my love."

the three of you settle down around the dinner table. alyssa has her tiny plate in front of her with her favorite food. you blow out the candles before starting to eat.

quiet words are exchanged, aemond talks briefly about work. you tell him all about the new words alyssa said. she babbles, reacting everything you say with her baby voice.

"you look tired." you say to aemond. the lines on his face are showing more than they did yesterday.

"we had a long meeting with the lannisters today." he explains. that's all you need to know to sense how stressed he's been today.

after dinner aemond cleans up the dishes as you change alyssa's dress into something comfy. you also change into your pyjamas, tidy up the living room from alyssa's toys on the floor. she's not sleepy but she'll probably drift off on aemond's chest later.

aemond offers to pick the movie this time, and with the help of his baby you decide to watch inside out for the third time this month. alyssa is fond of the movie, even though she doesn't understand the context very much she loves the characters.

just like you guessed, she plays with her doll, sitting next to aemond as she watches the movie. when aemond pulls her into his lap, she puts her head on his chest and closes her eyes. he rubs her back, calmly sipping his tea.

an adorable snoring sound rises in the room and you laugh. aemond pulls you against his chest as you fix your girl's hair, stroking it softly. she falls into a deep slumber.

"do you wanna watch something else?" you whisper to aemond.

"no, sweetheart." he answers, whispering. "that's quite okay."

[death---dealer]

How would Noa react to human reader on her period? I’m currently on mine and got this thought!

It's like you and i are the same person bc im on mine too ( The first time in like three years, im SUFFERING, ) Let's get self-indulgent. YOLO.

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. READ THE PROMPT ABOVE AND MAKE THE CHOICE IF YOU ARE OKAY WITH THIS CONTENT, OTHERWISE, PLEASE DO NOT READ. Ty ty.

Due to the environment and stress of living in the society you were placed in, your period was admittedly not regular though you tried your best to keep track of it. It got lost from time to time and you were left unsure when it would rear its ugly head back in. Sometimes, it was remarkably early by a few weeks, sometimes, it was at least a month late.

Your first period while with the Clan? You had nothing prepared. Nothing to ease your bleeding, nothing to ease yourself into some semblance of comfort. You quite frankly go into a small panic. You don’t know who to talk to - there’s no humans here, and Apes don’t bleed and have symptoms like Humans do. 

Oh my god avoiding Noa for the few days out of embarrassment - How do you even begin to explain to him?

Don’t think for a moment that Noa doesn’t know something is going on. The boy has an acute sense of smell. The roll of your pheromones, how they hit him and stuck around like a fog around his head,  how they adjusted ever so slightly a few days before you began ignoring him? Noted. You’re more hungry than usual - going for seconds at the evening meal. Nothing savory though - you stocked up on fruits and berries and just explained to him that the sweetness was more up your alley. He’d mention that maybe you should have some meat to balance but the absolute daggers you gave him caused him to never bring it up again. Noted. The pull to your emotions, like you were swinging from a branch, back and forth not able to teether yourself to one? You began crying one day with him next to you while watching the Baby Apes play with each other. The next moment, you were snapping at him for even looking at you. Noted. The subtle shift in your body? Becoming a bit more reserved , you often kept your hands in front of your chest, blocking him from looking at you fully? Maybe, he even notices when your arms grazed your chest that you flinched - Tender breasts. Noted. Heightened mating the last few days? Oh, absolutely noted. Not as tired as you though - Noa noticed you getting more tired during the middle of the day, asking him a few days before your period actually hit if you could go take a nap while he went with Soona and Anaya to fish. Noted.

You go to Soona and Dar in hopes that maybe you can talk to them about it and actually have them understand. You’re too embarrassed to bring this up to Noa and you doubted that he’d understand at all. Noa does show up mid-conversation though- You had been talking to Soona and Dar about something from his perspective. He doesn’t take much time to notice that, letting his green eyes rest on you for a moment longer but the tone of the voice you’re using with his Mother and Soona? Quite, hushed, like you had a secret. Noa has to admit that he’s a tiny bit intrigued and he lingers, trying to pick apart the conversation despite his brain telling him not to, that it was obviously a private matter. But… The other side of him bargained and he wondered what secret you could have that you wouldn’t want him to know about. After all, you had been avoiding him for a few days and he needed to know why if that’s what you were talking to Dar and Soona about. Admittedly, as you explained to them what was happening  ( Soona and Dar ) they were more confused than you initially wanted them to be with your vague words, having to go into more detail and explain - Which was not on your bingo-card at all. You were unsure of what words/phrases they were going to understand so you had to transverse carefully around the subject. You felt like you were going to cry from embarrassment before a look of understanding flashed from Dar.  ~*So, from listening to the conversation he was not supposed to be a part of, Noa gathered only a few things: you were going through something that affected females? Hence, why you went to Soona and Dar. You were embarrassed to talk to Noa about it, it must have been pretty contentious. And went through this consistently, albeit not regularly? It was a sign of Echo maturity, your body coming into its own. On a consistent basis? Noa was confused. How does your body do that?

Oh my god Noa asking you about it. The blood rushing to your face as he mentions that he had heard you talking to his Mother and Soona. Your first instinct is to get defensive. You cross your arms in front of your chest, pretty adamant in telling him that there was nothing going on. Noa retaliates in defense of himself and says, “I… just want to know why… you… Are ignoring me.” The spacing of his words gives away that he was being careful to choose what he told you. Irrational anger bubbled to surface and you just snapped, “I’m on my period! Okay? I already talked to Dar and Soona about it and now you’re at my throat? Period! Is that a good enough answer for you!? It’s not always about you Noa!” You storm off, leaving the Ape bewildered. You eventually do return an hour or so later, this time, incredibly apologetic with tears in your eyes as you’re muttering to him through a flood of tears, telling him all about what was happening and how you were feeling. Your cramps, the headache that wouldn’t go away, your insatiable need to eat everything insight, the pure driven desire you had to be both angry and sad at the same time. You even went as far as to tell him that you were indeed bleeding -Something Noa didn't have the heart to tell you that he was aware of. Remember that acute sense of smell? He noticed it. He noticed it the last few days, figuring you would bring it up when you were ready. Noa pulls you into him, lightly pressing his forehead against yours. He’s still not 100% on the details but… He hated to see you cry. Hated to see you angry as well. He tells you that it’s okay, to calm down and that it’ll all be okay.  Those swinging emotions he recalled from a few days before your period? Yeah, they happen during as well and you flew off the handle. “I am calm! What makes you think I’m not?” You groaned, pulling away from him, “I’m going to lay down.” He just watches wordlessly as you walk away; wondering what he said that was so offensive.

He definitely begins to track it with fever though; just another thing for him to notice about you,  and he really did his best to be accommodating despite not fully understanding the reason why you went through it. He would tell you when he knew it was coming, something that you actually came to gratefully accept because the mutiny that was your body made it hard to track yourself.

Uhm hello? Noa bringing you an herbal drink that the Elders swore by to help with mild pain in the body. Usually, it was Apes that had joint problems from age, or some from injury, but the drink did help ease your headache and cramps to a semi-bearable state.

He scours the dinner for the most sweet berries and fruits. Noa is able to tell from look and feel which ones would be more welcomed by you and he’s always so diligent to bring you two bowls. One for now, one for later.

OHHhhh my god Noa resting his hands on your stomach when you’re tangled in the nest together. He can sense the discomfort you’re in. You had tossed and turned almost the entire night, keeping the two of you awake. Now that it was dusk, you felt more at ease as he placed a hand on the lower part of your abdomen and groaned at the pleasure of feeling his heated skin.  ~*Definitely becomes more of a coping action that Noa works around. If Noa senses you’re feeling either nauseated or in pain, he’s rather quick to pull you into him and ease it the best he can. Favorite position? You’re laying on your side and he is spooning you from behind. Hands on your lower stomach, lightly at first but more intense if you’re craving more pressure and heat from him. He’s noticed you like to fall asleep like that. And he’s more than willing to oblige. 

Ah god the forehead touches when you have a headache? Someone sedate me. ~* He really gets into it and will wrap his hands around your head, his fingers almost meeting at the back of your neck. The heat from his hands feels absolutely euphoric against your temples as he pulls you towards him. You fall lax against him and ultimately let Noa pull you into his lap. Hands run from the back of your neck down to your lower back. He’ll place tender touches there too, knowing that lower back pain was also common.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Between the Lines - Professor!Ari Levinson x Librarian!Reader

A/N: Massive shout out to @precious1610 who essentially was my co-author for this oneshot, you came up with some brilliant lines and ideas for this and I can't thank you enough! 

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: Fluff! Professor Ari (he needs a warning because damn)! Sexual Harassment and Assult (not by Ari!)! Language! SMUT! 18+ ONLY! Minors DNI!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Masterlist

Between the Lines

You always looked forward to the new academic year. After weeks of the campus being quiet with only researching staff around, the liveliness of the new and returning cohorts of students always brought the campus back to life.

Another reason you enjoyed the new academic year was that Professor Levinson would be back. He often spent most of his summer in various different countries volunteering at refugee camps, providing aid during humanitarian crises. 

You’d look forward to the stories of his days off, the people he’d met and the landmarks he'd seen. He’d often bring back a little souvenir for you too, last time it was a pair of velvet slippers because ‘the library can get cold’ he said.

You missed him dearly over the summer break, which was somewhat ridiculous because he was just the professor that you had a helpless crush on. At least the gifts he brought you said he thought of you at least for just a moment while he was away.

Even if it was a hopeless crush that didn’t stop you from putting in a bit more effort on Thursdays. The day he’d always come in after lunchtime to return any books and take out more for the next week's lectures.

You were sat at your desk, scanning through the returned books when he finally walked in. You couldn’t help but smile when he walked over, he looked incredible in his blue sweater and brown suit. The look completed with a pair of glasses which were a recent addition over the last year. It was no surprise almost every girl on campus had a thing for him. His international politics class was one of the most popular.

“Hi, did you have a nice summer?” He asked as he reached your desk.

“Very good, how was yours?” You smiled up at him.

“Rewarding” he smiled before nodding down to your book “How many of those did you read?” 

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks “Lots” you admitted with a bashful smile “lots of free time during the summer break, while you were travelling the world I was travelling the universe” 

Ari gave you a lopsided smile “Sounds incredible, speaking of travelling” he reached into his pocket “I got you a little something” he held out a tiny pouch.

“Professor Levinson you didn’t have to”  your voice soft as you took the small pouch.

“I’ve told you many times to call me Ari” he reminded you “and I wanted to”

You smiled as you opened up the pouch and gently tipped out its contents, a small silver token falling out into your palm.

“It’s a medallion that wards off evil” Ari explained as he leaned against your desk with a lopsided smile. 

“It’s incredible, there’s so much detail” you muttered in amazement, admiring the small medallion. 

“I thought you could use it to ward off people who talk too loud or eat loud snacks” Ari smirked making you chuckle.

“I love it thank you” You smiled, if you could you’d get up and cup his cheek and kiss him, you’d just have to settle with your imagination. 

“It’s nothing, anything for my favourite librarian” he winked “Need a hand putting any of these away?” he nodded over to the large collection of returned books.

“I think a few of these are top-shelf books,” you said pointing to the trolley to which you had been adding books too. 

“On it” Ari smiled, moving to grab the trolley.

“Thank you Ari” you said as you got up to follow him.

“Do you not trust me to put them back in the right places?” he smirked over his shoulder at you as you both walked through the bookcases.

“no…I trust you” you said slowly.

Ari snorted “That means no” he chuckled “After all the times I’ve helped you do this, you’d think you’d trust me by now” 

“I do trust you” you laughed “I just…” you trailed off trying to find a reason you could actually say out loud. In truth, you just wanted to make the most of any time together.

“You’re just protective of your library, I get it” Ari smiled reassuringly as he lifted a heavy book onto the top shelf. 

“Yes… protective” you muttered unable to take your eyes off his biceps, even underneath the suit you could see how impressive they were. 

Ari smiled back at you breaking you from your trance. You cleared your throat before grabbing a book from the trolley and turning to put it away, subtly fanning yourself as you did so.

For the next half an hour Ari helped you put the books back on the shelves, he even reorganised an entire shelf when you complained that it was all out of order. You were just walking back to the desk when Ari paused and turned to face you.

“What are you doing Saturday afternoon?” He asked.

“Oh um, nothing I think” you stuttered trying to recall if you had any plans, which was pretty pointless because you rarely did.

“How about we go grab coffee?” He suggested a lopsided smile on his face.

“What like a-“ you squeaked blinking in surprise.

Ari grinned “Yes like a date” he finished for you.

You couldn’t stop stuttering, your mind short-circuiting as you tried to comprehend what was happening. 

“Did a book fall on my head” you muttered to yourself, only realising you’d done so when Ari barked out a loud laugh “Shhh” you chastised on instinct.

Ari covered his mouth with his hand, delight clear in his eyes as he continued to laugh but quietly this time. You covered your face with your hands feeling utterly embarrassed at your outburst.

“Oh god,” you groaned quietly.

Ari chuckled as he wrapped his hands around your wrists and pulled your hands from your face, his smile widening when he saw you were pouting. He shifted his hold on your wrists so he was holding your hands, his thumbs stroking your palms.

“No you haven’t hit your head, this is really happening,” he said softly “is that really so hard to believe?”

You quietly scoffed “Yes, I mean you’re you and I’m me” you admitted shaking your head.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” he said before leaning in to whisper “If you weren’t you, I wouldn’t be asking you out”

“Ari” you whispered in disbelief.

“And if you’ll join me for coffee I’ll tell you all the other reasons I’ve wanted to ask you out” he grinned.

You smiled bashfully, looking down at the floor “If I say yes, will you tell me one of the reasons now?” You asked looking back up at him.

Ari smirked “That pencil skirt and those knee-high boots to start” he said nodding down to your boots “So is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes” you grinned.

“Great” he smiled leaning in to kiss your cheek “I have to go teach now but I’ll see you Saturday”

“See you Saturday” you smiled watching him go.

You were frozen to the spot for a few moments still not entirely convinced that he’d actually asked you out and your crush wasn’t so hopeless. You eventually managed to get back to your desk, a smile on your face as you got back to work.

It was about an hour later when a shadow covered you. You were excited thinking that Ari had come back to talk to you again after his lecture but your smile faltered when you saw who it was.

“Hey sunshine,” Coach Hansen said as he leaned against the desk, lollipop in his mouth “How was your summer?”

“Nice,” you said forcing a smile “How about you Coach Hansen?” You asked to be polite.

“Call my Lloyd” he grinned “great, looking forward to the season, you’ll come and watch the games right? You can be my good luck charm” he winked.

You tried your hardest not to shudder in disgust “Oh um I’m not sure I’ll have to check my diary, I think I’m usually busy on game days” you lied.

“I’m sure I could convince you to find the time” he grinned leaning in closer.

You laughed awkwardly as you pushed your chair back and stood up to try and put some distance between the two of you “Guess we’ll see” you chuckled “Um do excuse me but I have some repairs to do in the office, you’d think college students would know how to treat books” you said stepping away “see you around” you added as you slipped into your office, shut and locked the door behind you. 

You leaned against the door and let out the shudder that you had been holding in. Coach Hansen was the most disgusting man you’d ever met, Assistant Coach Pete Brennan coming in a close second. You’d heard rumours that Hansen had slept with multiple cheerleaders throughout the years. Why some of the most popular girls would sleep with him was beyond you. 

You grabbed the hand sanitiser that was on your desk, squeezing a decent amount onto your hands. Lloyd hadn’t touched you but it made you feel cleaner. Just an encounter with Lloyd made you feel gross.

You sat down at your desk with a heavy sigh, it had been a rollercoaster of a day. But on the plus side, you had a date with Ari. The thought of that alone was enough to bring a smile back to your face. You had to think about what to wear, something that went well with your boots you thought.

It had been a couple of weeks since his date with you and Ari felt incredible. He hadn’t realised his feelings for you until the summer. He’d been walking through the market with one of his volunteer friends, Sam, he’d just found the small medallion when Sam snorted and shook his head.

“For your librarian friend?” Sam had chuckled.

“She would love it” Ari explained as he paid for it.

“Have you asked her out yet?” Sam asked as they walked to the next stall.

Ari frowned “No, she��s a friend” he’d said even if it felt wrong to call you just a friend.

Sam had laughed and shook his head “Who knew a college professor could be so stupid” he said as he walked away leaving Ari dumbfounded.

For the rest of the day, Ari had replayed that conversation before he finally came to the realisation that he had feelings for you. That he’d had feelings for you for a while now. If he wasn’t halfway across the world he would have gone straight to you and asked you out.

He was so glad you’d said yes, he’d found it so adorable how flustered you got. You were a little flustered on the date but Ari made sure to put you at ease and soon enough the side he absolutely loved about you. The sweet and a little cheeky side. 

His favourite part was when you both left the coffee shop. It had been unseasonably cold for a September afternoon and he could see you shivering. So he took off the blue jacket he wore and draped it over your shoulders. You smiled up at him, the jacket almost swallowing you up as you wrapped it around yourself more. It was the cutest sight ever.

He now found any opportunity to visit you in the library. When he walked in you weren’t at the front desk, he checked your office but you weren’t in there either. He noticed that the book return trolley was missing meaning you were out putting books back on shelves.

He started walking through the library trying to find you. He eventually found you in a far corner, his blood boiling at the sight. You had your back pressed against the bookcase as the sleazeball Coach Hansen crowded against you. Ari couldn’t instantly see how uncomfortable you were even though you were forcing a smile.

He cleared his throat loudly to interrupt. Lloyd looked over and rose to his full height allowing you to sidestep away from him.

“Professor Levinson” Lloyd greeted him with a lopsided smirk.

“Coach Hansen, are you lost? The picture books are at the public library across town, I think they have sticker books too” Ari said as he walked over, fists clenched down by his sides, he then turned his attention to you “Are the books I requested ready to collect, I need them for my lecture in half an hour” he didn’t have any more lectures today, he knew you’d know that and hopefully took the out he was giving you.

You blinked a couple of times “Oh, not quite I’ll um go get the last of them now” you muttered before shuffling past him and back towards the front desk.

“I think you have somewhere else to be don’t you Coach Hansen?” He asked turning his attention back to the sleaze ball.

Lloyd ran his tongue over his teeth as he studied Ari “Somewhere more interesting that’s for sure” he said before turning and leaving.

Ari followed behind him just to make sure that Lloyd actually left the library. You weren’t at the front desk but he spotted you peaking through the blinds in your office. 

Once he was satisfied that Lloyd had gone he walked over to the office door and gently rapped his knuckles against the wood. He pushed the door open slowly when he heard you answer. He found you perched on the edge of your desk rubbing your hands, the faint smell of hand sanitiser lingering in the air.

He closed the distance between you, his hand moving to brush hair out of your face and cup your cheek but he stopped himself short. You might not want anyone to touch you right now.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked softly.

You took in a deep breath before nodding as you breathed back out “Fine, just feel a little grossed out, nothing out of the ordinary” you admitted.

Ari’s brows furrowed “This has happened before?”

You gave him a weak shrug of your shoulders “Kinda, usually, I’m at the front desk so I have that barrier” you said gesturing in front of you “Today was the first time he’s found me between the cases” 

Ari shook his head in disbelief “Why didn’t you say? Why didn’t you tell him to back off?”

You scoffed and stepped away from him, crossing your arms as you moved to the far corner of the office. When you turned back to face him you hit him with a hard look.

“Seriously? That’s the worst thing I could do with a man like him, you think he’ll take my no as an answer?” You scoffed “The safest thing I can do is be nice and polite and hope to god that nothing happens, that he gets bored and moves on” you exclaimed gesturing with a clenched fist towards the door “And if he doesn’t I just have to pray that I can find not only the ability to fight back but win… and I know it’s wrong but that’s just reality!”

Silence fell in the room. Ari stood there and watched as you breathed heavily. He’d fucked up and he knew that, even if part of him was pretty impressed at how you put him in his place.

“You’re right, I’m sorry” he apologised holding his hands up in surrender as he took a couple of steps closer “That was very male of me to say that” he added with the smallest of smirks.

You pursed your lips before letting out a small chuckle “Yes it was” 

Ari smiled softly as he walked closer to you again “I’m sorry, I’m sorry this is the reality you have to live in” he said before his brows furrowed in concern “You’ve never felt like that with me have you?”

You quickly shook your head, stepping closer to close the distance your hands resting on his biceps “No, god no” you told him “You’ve never made me uncomfortable”

“Good, and if I ever do just put me back in my place like you just did” he smirked.

You bit your lower lip “I’m sorry” you said with a slight wince.

“No don’t apologise, it was actually kinda sexy” Ari whispered as he leant in

Your smile turned bashful as you looked up at him. He smiled back down at you as he moved to cup your cheeks with both hands, his thumb gently stroking the apples of your cheeks. Your head tilted into his touch, your eyes shining as you looked up at him.

“How do you feel now?” he asked softly.

“Much better thank you”

“Good, and I promise nothing like that is gonna happen again, I’ll make sure of it” he swore “I’ll be here when you finish tonight to walk you to your car and text me if he comes back before then”

“Okay I will, thank you Ari,” you said with a grateful sigh.

“It's nothing, sweetheart” he smiled before leaning down to capture your lips in his. 

He started gently just to make sure you were okay with it but as soon he felt you melt into his touch he let go of his restraint and deepened the kiss. From the moment he finally got to kiss you on your first coffee date he knew he was a goner. With every kiss since, every time he got to hold you, be close with you he fell harder and deeper for you.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever but he had something he needed to do “I have office hours soon so I need to head off” he said softly as he rested his forehead against yours. 

“That’s okay, I’ll see you later” you smiled, running your hands over his biceps.

“See you later” he smiled, pecking your lips once more before making his way out of your office.

When he stepped out of the library instead of turning towards his building, he turned in the opposite direction. Towards the football field and training facilities. He found Lloyd in his office talking to his assistant coach, Pete Brenner, lollipop in his mouth as he chuckled. 

“Professor Levinson” Lloyd smirked when Ari walked in “Are you a little lost?” he asked with a condescending tone, throwing Ari’s words back at him. 

Ari instantly saw red. He surged forward, pinning Lloyd to the nearest wall, fist gripping the mustard polo collar Hansen wore. 

“What the shit!” Pete exclaimed, shooting up from his seat, while Lloyd just laughed.

“Sit” Ari hissed over his shoulder at Pete who instantly did what he said like an obedient dog.

“It’s cool Brenner” Lloyd smirked “Let him have his moment”

Ari growled in response, shoving him back against the wall again “Don’t push me”

Lloyds just laughed “Oh c’mon pumpkin,” he said shaking his head “What are you gonna do? Strangle me with boredom? Talk me to death? You academic lot are so funny” he tilted his head with a condescending look. 

“You go near her again and you’ll find out exactly what I can do to you” Ari warned.

“Aw, you got a little crush on my little librarian?” Lloyd grinned. 

Ari shifted his grip, his fingers wrapping around Lloyd's throat. Lloyd only looked more excited, a wolfish grin growing.

“She’s not your property and never will be” Ari said, squeezing his grip slightly for good measure. 

Lloyd didn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes studying Ari “Warning taken” he finally said. 

Ari wasn’t entirely convinced but took a couple of steps back, letting go of Lloyd. Lloyd shrugged and straightened out his polo before regarding Ari with a look.

“What are you still doing here?” he asked “trying to cause more of a scene? I don’t think Y/N would like that”

Ari clenched his fists and resisted the urge to punch Lloyd right there and then but the sick bastard was right. If you knew Ari had caused this scene you would hate it. You probably wouldn’t want to see him anymore and he’d lose the best thing he’s ever had.

“Stay away from her” he reiterated harshly, pointing over to Lloyd who held his hands up in surrender a smirk playing on his lips. 

Ari turned, shooting a glare at Pete who shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He stormed out of the office, the door slamming so hard that it rattled behind him. 

The past couple of months had been the best of your life and it was all thanks to Ari. As the weather got colder you got excited to celebrate the holiday season with him. You’d already had a lot of fun with him at Halloween and Thanksgiving, he’d dressed up as Indiana Jones and you went as Marion. He looked incredible as Indy, you really had to try hard to keep your hands to yourself at the faculty party. You did have a lot of fun with the whip afterwards though. 

Much to your relief too, Lloyd had kept away from the library and you. That short interaction between him and Ari in the library had clearly sent enough of a message that you were taken. 

Ari had been the sweetest too, he’d meet you whenever you finished work to walk you to your car or pick you up to take you back to his place. He visited the library more and helped out whenever he could. You joked that you should get him an assistant librarian badge. 

It was Friday evening and you were working late. A large delivery had arrived ready for the new semester in January and you wanted to get them all sorted before the Christmas break. Ari had agreed to help out, bringing snacks and keeping you company. 

It was taking a little longer than you expected because you kept getting distracted by Ari. he was wearing a deep green button-up sweater which hugged his arms deliciously, especially when pushed the sleeves up to his elbows. 

He’d definitely caught you checking him out if the smirk on his lips was anything to go by. But when he’d lift heavy books up onto the top shelves you couldn’t help but stare, you were only human after all. 

You shook your head to try and clear it so you could focus on the job at hand. You turned away from him and crouched down to put away some books on the lower shelves. When you stood back up you were surprised to find Ari stood behind you, his hands resting on your hips. 

“Ari” you muttered as you looked over your shoulder at him. 

“Y/N” he smirked as he pressed a kiss to your neck, pulling your hips back so you could feel that it wasn’t just you who was getting distracted. 

“Ari” you sighed as you melted back onto him “We can’t, not here” you muttered as he continued to kiss your neck, one hand moving up to your breast. 

“Sure we can” he murmured “It's late, no one else is here” 

You could feel your resolve weakening “We should at least go to my office then” you suggested. 

“No we don’t” he smirked as his other hand moved from your hip to your covered core, tugging you back towards him “This sort of thing is in the books you read and I know how much you love them”

You blinked a couple of times in surprise as you turned around to face him “How did you know that?” 

Ari gives you a lopsided grin “I’ve read them” he answered.

“You read them” you repeated in disbelief. 

“Of course, they’re something you love” he explained with a casual shrug of his shoulders “I want to know as much as I can about you… get some ideas… make sure you’re satisfied” he smirked. 

“Ari,” you said softly, shaking your head in disbelief, you couldn’t believe how incredible he was. 

“So what do you say?” he smirked, “are you gonna let me worship you in your temple?”

You nibbled your lower lip and nodded, you could never say no to him. 

“Good, now make sure you stay quiet” he smirked as he sunk down to his knees “We are in a library after all” 

You let out a shuddered breath of anticipation when his hands slipped under your skirt to pull down your underwear. Once he tucked them into his back pocket his hand wrapped around the back of your knee and lifted it. He pressed a kiss to the exposed skin just above your knee-high boots. He hooked your leg over his shoulder as he pressed kisses up your thighs, his head disappearing underneath your skirt.

You cupped a hand over your mouth to silence yourself when his lips finally found your core, his quiet moan vibrating against you when he discovered how wet you were for him already. Your other hand found the back of his head, your fingers weaving through his long, soft locks. 

His beard scratched against your thighs as he feasted. He knew your body so well now that not even the perfect world of fiction could compare. He made your legs so weak that if he wasn’t propping you up, you’d be on the floor.

The feeling of him between your legs was like heaven, especially when he’d tease your clit. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, you also wanted him inside you, and you wanted to reach your peak. 

“Ari” you whimpered, your fingers gripping his hair tightly.

You felt him smirk against you before diving back in. Except this time his lips wrapped around your clit and he slipped two thick fingers inside you. You had to bite your fist to stop yourself from screaming, especially when his fingers curled against that golden spot and fireworks exploded as you hit your peak.

Ari worked you through the waves of your orgasm, prolonging to the point that the entire world melted away. You hadn’t even noticed him rising to his full height until he cupped your cheeks and kissed you deeply, the taste of you on his lips. 

“You’re doing so well keeping quiet” he murmured against your lips.

The kiss brought you back to life, energy surging through like electricity. Your hands quickly found his belt buckle and pushed down his deep green trousers enough to free him. You wrapped your fingers around him and pumped him a couple of times. Just the weight and feel of him in your hands made your core ache for him.

It was like Ari had read your mind because he hooked his hands under your thighs at the same time that you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to climb him like a tree. You buried your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your moan when he entered you.

Neither of you moved once he was fully seated inside you. You only breathed deeply as you took in the feeling of him filling you up completely. It was a feeling you never wanted to get used to and one you hoped you’d always have. 

Soon enough you felt the overwhelming urge for movement, you turned your head to press kisses to his neck just below the ear “Move” you whispered pleadingly.

Ari chuckled softly “Anything for you” he said before thrusting up into you.

He started slowly but soon worked up to a fiercer pace. You clung onto him tightly, rolling your hips to meet his. You bit your lower lip to hold back your loud moan but you couldn’t stop the small gasps that escaped. It would be impossible for anyone to be silent when with Ari.

Your head tilted back against the bookcase, which Ari took advantage of as he pressed wet kisses to your neck and collarbone. You felt and heard books tumble to the floor but you didn’t care, you couldn’t care about anything except how great you felt.

You could feel your orgasm building and before you could even say anything it crashed over you and you couldn’t even think let alone speak. It felt like you ascended to a whole new plane of existence, Ari joining you shortly after as he hit his own peak.

Ari held you close as you came down from your mind-blowing high. His large hand cradled the back of your head as you nuzzled your head back into the crook of his neck.

“Can you stand?” Ari asked softly after a few moments.

You nodded “I think so” you muttered, still catching your breath.

Ari gave you a lopsided smile before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He held onto you as he pulled out of you, a whimper falling from your lips at the emptiness. You leant back against the bookcase, feeling his spend slowly spreading down your thighs. 

You watched as Ari picked up the fallen books with his clean hand and returned them to the nearby trolley to be reorganised later. When he returned to you he slipped his other hand back under your skirt. He smirked down at you as he collected the combined juices of your and his release, spreading it back up to your core.

“Let’s get you back to your office to get cleaned up” he murmured as he kissed you.

A couple of hours later you and Ari called it a night. There were still lots of books to sort through but you were both tired and just wanted to head back to his place to relax.

You were walking into the parking lot when Ari paused and cursed under his breath “I forgot to grab something from my office” he muttered glancing over his shoulder in the direction of his building.

“That’s fine,” you said wrapping your jacket around your tighter, it was a pretty cold December night, as you turned to go with him.

“It’s fine, you go get in the car,” he said passing you the keys “Get the heater going and lock the doors, I won’t be long” he promised.

“Okay see you in a second” you said as you started to make your way towards the car. Ari jogged off in the opposite direction towards his office.

Ari had parked under a street lamp but it was barely working. Flicking on and off periodically. You weren’t worried about it though, Ari had already seen to the campus sleaze.

You reached the car with no problem but as you reached for the handle you heard someone and your blood ran cold.

“Hey sugarplum what you doing out so late?” Lloyd said.

You quickly turned around to find him stood much closer than you thought. It was like he materialised out of the shadows and just the mere thought of him had summoned him like a demon.

“Large delivery, but heading home now,” you said gesturing to the car behind you.

“So soon? I’ve not seen you around in a while, maybe we should catch up” he smiled as he closed the distance between you, backing you against the car.

“Oh um well it’s late, uh maybe another time? I’m pretty tired” you stuttered as you leaned back to create some distance.

An evil smirk grew on his face “Tired or bored? I bet you’re bored to tears hanging out with that dull professor” he said “but don’t you worry, I can show you a good time”

His hands gripped your hips and you stopped breathing. Ari had kept hold of your underwear after cleaning you up, it was something that excited you at the time but now you regretted it. You didn’t want to think what Lloyd would do if he discovered you weren’t wearing underwear.

“Oh no thanks, I’m very happy as I am,” you said, your voice wobbling.

Lloyd smirked as he leant in to whisper in your ear “I don’t think that’s true”

Your entire body froze, eyes screwed shut when he pressed a disgustingly wet kiss below your ear. You whimpered but he just took that as a sign to carry on. He gripped you tighter, forcing his growing bulge against your stomach and kept kissing your neck.

“You like that now don’t-“ he started but he didn’t finish as suddenly he was gone.

You opened your eyes to discover Lloyd on the floor, Ari stood between the two of you “I told you to stay away” Ari growled, his fists clenched down by his sides.

Lloyd just laughed as he pushed himself to his feet “Please, she doesn’t want you, she wants me even if she doesn’t know it yet, I can read between the lines” he said before glancing around Ari to look at you “isn’t that right sugarplum?”

Ari snapped and surged forward, his fist connecting with Lloyd’s jaw. Lloyd stumbled back, the smirk disappearing and replaced by fury as Lloyd swung back and punched Ari.

You gasped in shock, hands covering your mouth as the two men brawled in front of you. It was a blur of punches and for a moment you couldn’t work out who was winning. This was a side of Ari you had never seen before. To your relief Ari got the upper hand, landing a hard punch to the side of Lloyd’s head causing him to stumble. Ari took advantage of his disorientation and grabbed his shoulders and threw him to the floor, pinning him down and shoving Lloyd’s face into the asphalt. 

At that exact moment campus security finally appeared and rushed over “What’s going on here?” One of them demanded.

“Coach Hansen was sexually assaulting Miss Y/L/N“ Ari said keeping Lloyd pinned down even though he wasn’t fighting anymore.

“Is that correct miss?” The security guard said, you tore your eyes away from Ari and Lloyd and looked over to the guards, barely being able to bring yourself to nod in response “Okay, we’ll take it from here” he said. 

Ari finally climbed off of Lloyd to let the security cuff him and pull him to his feet. You gasped quietly when you saw just how beaten and bloodied he was, how much Ari had beaten the crap out of him.

“Would you like us to report this to the police on your behalf?” The other guard asked you.

“I uh yes please” you muttered weakly.

“We’ll be in my office when they arrive” Ari told them before finally turning to face you.

Your heart stopped for a moment when you saw his split lip and brow. He didn’t look as bad as Lloyd but it was still difficult to see.

“Let’s go sweetheart” he said softly as he wrapped his arm around you to guide you away from Lloyd and to his office.

The entire walk to your office all you could hear was buzzing in your ears, your entire body felt numb. You hadn’t even realised you were in his office until he sat you down in his brown leather office chair. You blinked a couple of times and looked over at him as grabbed a first aid box from the far corner.

The sudden urge to take care of him took precedence over how you were feeling “Let me” you said standing up and taking the kit from him.

“Sweetheart-“ Ari protested.

“Ari please” you pleaded.

You needed this right now, you needed to look after him, you needed the distraction.

“Okay” he relented softly, he moved to perch on the edge of his desk.

You grabbed what you needed before standing in between his legs to clean up his cuts. He didn’t even wince as you did so, he just looked defeated as he watched you work. 

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly drawing your eyes to his.

You took a deep breath “I don’t know” you admitted. 

Ari sighed “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I just saw him crowding you and I-I snapped” he apologised.

“No, don’t apologise I’m glad you did that, if you hadn’t been there I…” you trailed off, you didn’t need to think too hard about what would have happened.

“It’s my fault I shouldn’t have left you alone, I should have known that he wouldn’t have left you alone after I-“ he said before silencing himself.

“After you what?” You asked, brows furrowing.

“Threatened him and told him to stay away” he sighed dropping his head.

“Ari” you muttered in disbelief.

“I know it’s stupid I know but after I caught him in the library and saw how upset it made you I knew I had to say and do something,” he said shaking his head “Nobody gets away with making the people I love uncom-“

“Love?” You interrupted, your jaw dropping in shock.

The corners of his lips twitch upwards “Yeah” he said softly “it may have taken me far too long to realise my feelings for you but once I did I fell hard. I love you Y/N”

You let out a watery chuckle and smiled at him “I love you too” you said pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Ari smiled into the kiss as he cupped the back of your head to keep you there “How do you feel now?” He asked after a moment.

“Better” you smiled softly “I know I probably haven’t processed what happened yet and I don’t know how I’ll feel when I do” you sighed “but I know I have you so that doesn’t scare me”

“Good, and I’ll be right there beside you I won’t let anything like this happen again” Ari promised as he cupped your cheeks.

“Thank you Ari” you smiled.

“Anything for you sweetheart” he smiled before kissing you deeply once more. 

The feeling of his protection enveloped you. You knew that difficult days were ahead of you but with Ari by your side, you knew you could not only face it, but survive it.

Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this and maybe even leave a comment to make my day!

Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications to be kept up to date!

[just-aake]

Everlasting Devotion - Part VIII

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel of Boundless Devotion Series. MedievalAU. With her coronation over, Natasha is now the queen of the Romanov Kingdom. However, the position comes with challenges from both old and new enemies as Natasha tries to maintain the peace while also navigating her relationship with you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Warnings: light angst

Words: 4074

At a table in your library, your fingers glide across the worn page of Howard Stark’s journal. The entries detail his ambitious attempts to harness sorcery, each word penned with sharp, precise strokes.

There’s something striking in his handwriting—a tangible trace of the man himself, a stranger who might’ve been part of your life if circumstances had been different.

As you read, you can’t help but wonder about the person behind these words.

Would he have welcomed you into his world, inviting you to collaborate on these projects instead of leaving you alone in the shadow of constant disappointments and harsh judgments?

With a quiet sigh, you pull yourself from the wistful thoughts and back to the task, refocusing on the journal’s contents.

His latest endeavor—a complex project to encapsulate raw energy within a synthetic stone—was left unfinished, his last entry noting how close he’d come but ultimately failing to contain it.

Your gaze drifts to the attacker’s glove lying nearby, the once-bright stone in its center now faded to a dull sheen. 

Curiosity gets the better of you, and with delicate care, you pry the stone free, lifting it toward the sunlight streaming through the library window.

Sunlight filters through its transparent surface, revealing imperfections–tiny cracks spidering through its structure. 

As you study it intently, a sudden flash of memory grips you: a similar stone, glowing brightly in someone’s hand, its light intensifying as muffled words reach your ears.

Before you can grasp the context of the fragmented scene, a dull ache pierces your mind, forcing your eyes shut against the sharp sensation.

When you open them again, blinking slowly, silence fills the room. The vivid memory fades, slipping further from your grasp.

The familiar unease that follows these unpredictable flashes settles over you. Once again, the thought crosses your mind: perhaps it’s time to let Wanda explore your thoughts.

Maybe she could decipher the meaning behind these visions—or confirm if you were just going insane.

“Quite the collection you’ve got here,” a voice cuts through the quiet.

Startled, you almost drop the stone, quickly pocketing it as you spin around. 

Tony stands at the door, a smirk plastered on his face. 

“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” you snap, shooting him a sharp glare.

Tony glances back at the door, feigning disbelief. 

“I did knock,” he insists, grinning. “You didn’t hear me? Practically rattled the hinges.”

You suppress a sigh as he strolls through the room, inspecting the shelves like a restless child. At one point, he pulls a book down, flips through a few pages, then shudders dramatically as he snaps it shut. 

“Please tell me you’ve got something more exciting in here than this.” 

He waves the book at you with exaggerated disappointment.

Snatching it from his hands, you glare at him. “Don’t you have work to do?”

Tony gives a dismissive wave, meandering toward another shelf.  

“We’re waiting on supplies,” he explains. “Besides, Vision’s distracted playing nice with your little sorcerer outside.”

“Playing nice?” you ask, raising a brow in surprise.

Tony gives a lazy nod.

“He’s always been interested in that sort of thing—his family had some traces of magic or something in their line. Not great at the whole socializing bit, though, so this behavior is slightly surprising.”

Tony claps his hands and strides past you.

“It’s good, though. He’s always been the more reserved one of his brothers. You know, that’s why I brought him with me in the first place, to give him more exposure to the—hello—what do we have here?”

You follow his gaze, spotting the journal still open on the table in the corner of your eyes, but Tony’s attention is focused on the armored glove. 

Discreetly, you close Howard’s journal and slide it behind a stack of other books while Tony is engrossed in examining the glove with keen interest. 

He suddenly picks it up, slipping it onto his hand with confidence.

“Careful, it’s damaged,” you warn, stepping forward. “We don’t know how it works.”

Tony smirks, waving off your concern as he fumbles with the glove’s mechanism. 

“Relax, it’s just a tool for defense. Completely harmless.”

Just as he finishes, a quiet click sounds from the glove, and suddenly, a shard bursts from its mechanism, ricocheting off the wall. 

You duck instinctively while Tony stumbles back, clearly unprepared for the recoil.

“Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen,” he mutters, brushing himself off.

You shoot him a glare, yanking the glove from his hand. “And how would you know?”

He gives you a smug grin. “Because I designed it.” 

The words catch you off guard, your brows knitting in suspicion as you bring the glove closer to your body. 

“You…designed this?”

He dusts off his sleeve with nonchalance, oblivious to your growing unease. 

“Not this one exactly, but the specs are similar.”

The unease that’s been lingering since Natasha’s news flares up again. With a deep breath, you tap the glove’s surface, your gaze turning serious. 

“This is from the Stark Kingdom though.”

Tony leans casually against a shelf, his relaxed stance at odds with the sudden sharpness in his gaze. 

“And how would you know that?” he counters.

You choose your words carefully, unwilling to reveal too much. 

“I have a source. A reliable one.” 

Tony raises his eyebrows, intrigued, but you press on before he can respond. 

“That would mean that you’re…” you hesitate, searching his face, as you struggle to face the possibility. 

“You’re from Stark, right?” you finish with instead.

Tony scrutinizes you for a moment, then wags his finger as he heads for the door. 

“Nope, that’s not what you wanted to ask,” he says, sidestepping your question.

You stiffen, caught off guard by his intuition. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you call, hurrying after him.

“It means you’re not being honest about what you want to know,” he replies over his shoulder, the words hitting a nerve. 

You hear him continue, muttering in contemplation. 

“This does explain why you’ve been so weird lately whenever I’m near.”

But before you can fire back, he’s already halfway down the hall toward the manor entrance.

You catch up to him just as he exits the manor. 

Vision and Wanda stand at the entrance, deep in conversation, pausing as they notice the two of you approaching.

“Vision, I’m heading into town,” Tony announces breezily. 

He moves to follow. “I’ll prepare the—” 

“No need,” Tony interrupts smoothly, already reaching for the nearby carriage door. “I’ll just take this.”

Before he can open it fully, a flicker of red energy snaps the door shut. 

Wanda steps forward with her arms crossed, her gaze unmistakably unimpressed.

“That’s not yours to take,” she says, her voice edged with warning.

Just as Tony groans in frustration, you arrive at her side, nodding to Wanda.  

“It’s fine, Wanda. I’m going with him.” You fix Tony with a glare. “We still need to finish our conversation.” 

Wanda’s brow arches, her gaze shifting between you and Tony. 

“Alright, I can call for Pietro,” she says, moving to get the other twin. 

“You two don't need to come along,” you reply quickly.

Wanda’s concern deepens on her face at your unusual response, so you add with a reassuring smile, “Really, it’s okay.”

“Any day now, ladies,” Tony quips with an exaggerated sigh, tapping his foot impatiently.

You shoot him a glare. “Has anyone ever told you you’re obnoxious?”

Tony grins, unbothered as ever, shrugging. 

“You know, that does sound familiar,” he replies before stepping into the carriage.

Before you can follow, Wanda catches your arm, her expression a mix of worry and confusion.

“Is everything okay?” she asks softly, her tone laced with concern.

Her words make you pause, forcing you to confront the real reason behind your hesitation to let them overhear this conversation as well as let her into your mind.

It’s not just fear of what she might see—it’s the secret you’ve been keeping from her and her brother.

The truth about who you really are. The truth about your connection to the family responsible for their parents’ tragic deaths.

You’re not ready for them to know. You don’t know how you’d face them if they ever found out.

So, with a small, reassuring smile, you nod. 

“Trust me, Wanda, I’ve got this.”

Then, leaning closer, you soften the moment with a teasing grin.

“Besides, it looks like you’re enjoying your time with Vision.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, though a faint blush colors her cheeks. She quickly regains her composure and removes her scarlet cloak, holding it out to you. 

“Here, wear this. It’ll help keep unwanted attention off you in town,” she says, knowing well from Pietro’s stories how people have been reacting to you.

You accept it gratefully, wrapping it around your shoulders before climbing into the carriage. You settle across from Tony, crossing your arms as the carriage lurches forward. 

Tony doesn’t even glance up, instead examining his hand with what seems like exaggerated nonchalance.

Patience thinning, you let out an annoyed huff. 

“Well?”

Tony finally looks up, feigning surprise. 

“I’m sorry, did you say something? I wasn’t listening.”

Grinding your teeth, you shoot him a glare. 

However, he just raises a brow, daring you to push further. 

Taking a steadying breath, you decide it’s time to cut to the chase, dropping any pretense of subtlety.

“Are you Tony Stark?” 

For a moment, he stares at you, blank and unreadable. Then, he bursts into an exaggerated laugh, leaning back in his seat with a loud, mocking cackle. 

The sudden reaction catches you completely off guard.

“You think I’m Tony Stark? The King of the Stark Kingdom?” he asks between bouts of laughter, his tone dripping with amusement. “Why? Because we share a name? Or because I happen to design a few gadgets from that region?”

You falter, your certainty beginning to waver under his ridicule. “I—it’s just—” 

“Well, you’re right,” he cuts in abruptly, his tone now nonchalant, so casual it almost doesn’t register. He spreads his arms in mock grandeur and a slight bow. 

“I am the one and only…Tony Stark.”

You blink at him, stunned into silence as the words sink in. The ease with which he admits it is almost more shocking than the revelation itself. 

“Just like that?” you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’d just…admit it?”

Tony grins, throwing his feet up onto the seat beside you and reclining with a maddening air of satisfaction. 

“Why not? You’re sharp enough to figure it out. Besides, it won’t be a secret for much longer.”

You should be feeling shock, panic—something other than the rising annoyance simmering in your chest. Before you can stop yourself, you shove his leg off the seat, forcing him to sit properly.

“For a royal, you have no manners,” you snap.

Tony laughs, completely unfazed. 

“Now you’re really starting to sound like someone I know,” he quips, his tone amused.

Your irritation deepens. The casual way he’s treating this entire situation grates on your nerves, especially with everything you’ve already had to deal with and now with the addition of this. 

“Why are you here?” you demand.

“Why should I tell you?” he counters smoothly. 

Crossing your arms, you glare at him. “Because you lied to me.”

“Wrong,” he corrects, wagging a finger at you. “I never lied. I just didn’t tell you everything. Big difference. Lying’s more of a Romanov specialty than mine.” 

You bristle at his comment, immediately becoming defensive. 

“You can’t say that—you don’t even know them.” 

Tony’s playful demeanor fades slightly, his expression turning serious as his gaze locks with yours. 

“I know what happened the last time my family trusted a Romanov.” 

A heavy silence descends between you, the weight of his words filling the small carriage. You don’t miss the flicker of pain in his eyes as he turns to stare out the window, crossing his arms in what almost seems like a protective gesture.

“Everyone knows you can’t trust a Romanov or anyone from their kingdom,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

Your hands curl into fists as you glance down, frustration bubbling inside you. 

“That’s hardly a fair judgment,” you whisper. “Not without giving people a chance.”

Tony glances at you, his expression unreadable. Then, leaning forward slightly, he meets your gaze with a challenge in his eyes. 

“Then prove me wrong.”

Your head snaps up, his words catching you off guard. “What?”

He sits back, arms crossed again, and shrugs. 

“I’m not supposed to be here yet. If you can keep my identity a secret until the time is right, I’ll reconsider what I said.” 

You fall silent, his proposition hanging in the air between you. The thought of keeping another secret from Natasha bothers you, but the idea of Tony meeting her with his current distrust of her family is even worse. 

Maybe, just maybe, you could change his mind before that moment arrives.

The rest of the ride passes in tense silence. You’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice your surroundings until the carriage stops. 

Following Tony out, you snap back to reality as you take in the shadowy streets, far from the safer areas of town. 

Grabbing his sleeve, you tug him to a stop. 

Tony releases an indignant sound of surprise as he’s pulled back before turning to you with a disapproving frown.

“Hey, easy, now that you know who I am, there’s no excuse for this kind of disrespect.”

Ignoring his reprimand, you lower your voice, hissing at him in disbelief. 

“What are we doing here? This area is dangerous.”

Tony lets out an exaggerated sigh, clearly unbothered by your concern. 

“Trying to stay low-key in a foreign kingdom. Naturally, I’d go somewhere less…guarded,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Then he smirks, adding, “You can always wait in the carriage if you’re too scared without your little followers around to protect you.”

Glowering, you push him ahead and lower your hood to obscure your face. You follow as he strides confidently into the alley. He stops at a run-down tavern, the dimly lit entrance as unwelcoming as the rest of the area. 

You hesitate, glancing warily at the door.

“Relax,” Tony says, throwing a grin over his shoulder. “Head low, stay close, and try not to look terrified. These people can smell fear.”

You roll your eyes, releasing a sigh under your breath as you move to step inside. Just before you cross the threshold, the sound of barking draws your attention. 

Glancing back, you spot two scruffy dogs, their muddy coats giving them a ragged appearance. They’re barking and leaping at a bird perched just out of their reach, the falcon screeching indignantly. 

A strange sense of familiarity strikes you, but you shake it off. It’s a ridiculous thought. 

Coincidence, nothing more. 

Steeling yourself, you pull your hood tighter and slip into the tavern to follow Tony.

The atmosphere hits you immediately—a cacophony of rowdy chatter, clinking glasses, and the sharp, pungent tang of alcohol mixed with smoke. 

The dim lighting casts shadows across the rough wooden beams, and the patrons barely glance your way as you weave through the tables, trailing Tony’s confident stride. 

For a moment, you think you might make it through unnoticed.

That hope evaporates as a man steps into your path. His leering grin reveals yellowed teeth, and his eyes sweep over you with an unsettling feeling. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” he asks, his voice slurred and mocking.

You stand your ground, narrowing your eyes at him, refusing to dignify his question with a response.

Stepping to the side, you attempt to move past him, but he reacts quickly, his face twisting with anger as he reaches out to grab your arm.

Before his hand can get close, Tony’s grip suddenly clamps down on the man’s wrist, stopping him mid-motion. 

“Easy there,” Tony says, his tone light but laced with warning. “We’re all here to relax, right? So why don’t you…take a deep breath and do just that.”

The man glares at Tony, weighing his options, but the steady, unflinching look Tony gives him is enough to make him pull back. The man stumbles off, muttering something about it not being worth the trouble. 

Tony claps his hands in satisfaction and then turns to you with an exaggerated raise of his eyebrows. 

“You really know how to attract trouble. No wonder you always need someone around to save the day.” 

You glare at him, your voice clipped.

 “I can handle myself just fine.” 

Tony hums mockingly as if considering your words, then shrugs. “If you say so.” 

He turns and saunters toward a booth tucked into the corner of the tavern, his pace purposefully slower as if to ensure that you stay close. 

The gesture irritates you further, but you follow anyway.

At the booth, a man sits nervously, his eyes darting around the room with visible discomfort.

Tony slides into the seat across from him, greeting him with the same condescension he’d just directed at you.

“Don’t look so scared, Happy. They can smell fear, you know.”

“I’m not scared,” the man retorts defensively, though his shifting gaze betrays him. “I just don’t like places like this.” 

His eyes flick to you, observing you with curiosity. “Who’s she?”

You open your mouth to respond, but Tony waves a dismissive hand in front of your face. 

“Not relevant right now,” he answers for you, earning him a sharp glare from you.

“Also, she knows who I am,” Tony adds with a smirk, “so you can talk freely.” 

Happy shrugs, seemingly accustomed to Tony’s antics. 

Tony leans forward, his tone shifting to one of eager anticipation.

"Well, did you bring it?"

Happy nods, pulling out a cloth-wrapped object from beside him and sliding it across the table. You watch as Tony unwraps it, revealing a glove strikingly similar to the one from your manor—but this one is sleeker, more refined in its design.

“Impressive, right?” Tony asks, shooting you a knowing look as if reading your thoughts. “Unlike yours, mine actually works a lot better.”

You roll your eyes but pause when you notice something.

“It’s missing the stone,” you point out.

Tony’s smirk falters, replaced by a puzzled expression.

“What stone?”

You hesitate, weighing your options, but ultimately decide he’s the best person to ask, considering he’s the son of the one who created the project.

Pulling the dull, cracked stone from your pocket, you hold it out.

“This was attached to the other glove,” you explain. “It glowed yellow with some sort of power before it was damaged.”

Tony takes the stone, his usual flippant demeanor fading as he studies it with uncharacteristic seriousness.

After a moment, Happy breaks the silence, pointing at the stone.

“That looks like something you worked on a few years ago,” he says. “Remember how many times it blew up in your lab?”

Tony glares at him, unamused at the reminder.

“We agreed never to speak of that.”

Turning back to you, Tony gives you a curious look.

“Where did you say you got this glove?”

“We were attacked,” you reply. “It was left behind when they escaped.”

Tony hums thoughtfully, then closes his hand around the stone.

“I’ll hold onto this for you,” he declares.

“Hey, that’s not yours!” you protest, reaching for it.

Tony easily keeps it out of reach. “It’s not yours, either.”

You scoff, incredulous at his childish behavior. For a moment, you wonder how someone like this could possibly share your blood.

Before the standoff can escalate, a hesitant cough breaks the tension.

“The lady did have it first, sir,” Happy interjects, earning a sharp, offended look from Tony.

With backup on your side, you cross your arms and level Tony with a pointed glare, holding your hand out expectantly.

Tony contemplates for a moment, eyes flickering between your hand and the stone in his before releasing an exaggerated sigh, dropping the stone into your hand and then slumping dramatically in his seat.

“Anything else, traitor?” he asks, shooting a glare at Happy.

Unbothered by his words, Happy nods and continues.

“Chancellor Potts wants to know when you’re planning to return. She’s…not thrilled about your sudden departure.”

Tony places a hand over his chest with mock sincerity.

“Aw, does she miss me?”

“It’s not that, sir,” Happy says flatly. 

You cross your arms in disapproval, raising an eyebrow at Tony.

“Wait—you abandoned your kingdom to come here?”

“Abandoned is a strong word,” Tony retorts, wagging a finger at you. “With Pepper running things, my kingdom’s in good hands.”

He turns back to Happy.

“And no, I don’t have a timeline. It all depends on how long this takes.” 

Happy rubs his temples, clearly exasperated.

“Well, I had to tell Jarvis to speed up his pace anyway, but it won’t matter if you’re still looking for—” 

Tony cuts him off with a raised hand, then tosses a small pouch of coins in your direction.

“Do you think you can handle a trip to the bar without starting any trouble? I’m parched.”

You narrow your eyes, catching the not-so-subtle attempt to get rid of you. Still, with no further explanation forthcoming, you roll your eyes and head to the bar.

The barkeep nods as you approach. “What’ll it be?”

Leaning against the counter, you smile politely. 

“Whatever you’d make for someone who’s testing your patience.” 

The barkeep chuckles knowingly and sets to work. 

As you wait, a commotion from the other side of the room draws your attention—cheers, laughter, and groans of disappointment. Peering past the crowd, you see coins being exchanged as two figures face off in a card game. 

The burly man at the table glares at his opponent, his eyes narrowing. 

“You should back out now before I bleed you dry, little lady.”

The masked figure across from him leans forward, her voice light and teasing. 

“Aww, is the big man scared?”

Laughter erupts at her taunt, but you frown instead, the voice sounding suspiciously familiar. You push through the crowd to get a better look. 

The dim light in the tavern doesn’t help much, but as you approach, your eyes narrow. 

The masked figure’s darkened hair gives you pause—it’s black, not blonde like expected. Still, the way she moves, the self-assured tilt of her head, sends alarm bells of recognition in your mind.

The burly man, clearly agitated, gestures toward a dagger at the masked woman’s side. 

“How about you throw that fancy knife into the pot and whatever your friend’s got strapped to her back?”

Your eyes shift to the figure standing protectively behind her, another masked woman. Her nervous fidgeting is unmistakable, as is the distinct bow strapped to her back—Clint’s signature design, one you’d recognize anywhere with how often Kate brings it with her everywhere.

Crossing your arms, you let out a long, exasperated sigh. 

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath, already knowing whose idea this was.

The masked woman at the table leans forward, her voice dripping with confidence as she responds, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re playing against me, remember?” 

There’s no mistaking her now. Yelena’s tone is as bold and unshakable as ever, mirroring her sister’s in every way.

She reaches for the dagger at her side, drawing it out to twirl it in the light. The hilt and blade gleam, the intricate craftsmanship unmistakable—it looks like the one you’d given Natasha not long ago.

You straighten when you realize it is the one you had gifted Natasha.

As Yelena seems to consider the man’s challenge, her smirk widening with the thrill of the wager, you feel your patience snap at the thought of risking something you designed personally for Natasha. 

You move to step forward, intent on stopping her from making a reckless decision, but before you can take a step, a firm grip wraps around your arm, pulling you back into the crowd.

Irritation flares instantly. Tony’s earlier remarks about you needing protection flash through your mind, fueling your annoyance.

Without hesitation, you jab your elbow into the person’s side, twisting out of their grip. 

Their hold loosens, and as their face tilts into view, your irritation shifts to surprise.

Bright green eyes meet yours, sharp and unmistakable even in the dim light.

“Natasha?” you whisper in a hiss, barely keeping your voice low. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

a/n: I’m so sorry for the long delay between the chapters for this series. This one is definitely trickier to write cause there is a lot more components to organize, but I’m starting to get back into it. Again, thank you for reading and for your patience!

Also, I’m going to attempt to be more interactive with you all since you take the time to leave such nice comments on my works, so whenever I have some spare time, you may see me popping around in the replies and responding.

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it, please let me know again.

Taglist : @midastouch013, @2silverchain, @dvrkhcld, @observeowl, @x-drowned-x, @fireandblood-3, @natsxwife, @leequifey, @blacklightsposts, @srt-sah, @scar-letwidow, @likefirenrain, @autorasexy, @natsbiggestfan1, @lex13cm, @iheartjohansson, @tofu9162, @unexpected-character, @natashasilverfox, @acciowriting, @qtreesfanstuff, @mrsrushman, @inarayofmoonlight, @viosblog112, @inarayofmoonlight, @maximoff-jp, @natashasilverfox

[ghostbsuter]

Batclan and Catband (part 2)

> previous part

> next part

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Dinner ended up a relatively calm affair, or as calm as it can be with the batclan and the cat catband in one place.

"Where is elle actually?" Selina asks, leaning on the table with a grin.

"With her aunty harley and pam," he answers, phone in hand. "They're bringing her over soon, tho."

Dick, sitting opposite of Danny, perks up at that. "Your daughter, right? How old is she?"

The teen practically glows at the question, proud and not far from showing it.

"Become 2 recently! A gremlin in sheep clothes, truly. She knows how to get what she wants, a habit learned from her glam glam." At the last words, he gives catwoman the stink eye, huffing when she laughs at him.

"I have been wondering, how old are you, danny? If you don't mind." Bruce has an easygoing smile on, but Danny knows that glint in his eyes.

"Also freshly turned 18."

Both Selina and Danny watch the other man carefully, one hiding her sharp stare, the other openly showing it.

"Isn't that a bit young to become a single parent?" The man asks in concern, no matter he should be with emotions, mother and son recognise the tone of worry and relax slightly.

"Her circumstances of appearing in our life is not much to be desired. However, we are very happy with her joining our little family at that time."

Danny speaks fondly, smiling as he recalls the moments. "Selina helped immensely when needed and didn't shy from showering the little gremlin in love"

While the batclan would have loved to continue the conversation, Alfred appeared with a gentle smile.

"Master Danny, there is a guest waiting patiently at the front door for you, I'm afraid she might just run off with no one watching." He gives a very amused look at the members of the table.

He shoots out of his chair, letting the butler lead him out and about.

Once the teen is gone, does Bruce straighten his form and look at selina.

"What about the mother? Is there anything—"

"I'll stop you right there, bat dear." She holds up her hand, giving a sharp smile.

"While I'd rather not talk behind Danny's back like this," she gives the table a look, noting that every member seems to be in their vigilante persona.

"Elle doesn't have a mother, I won't explain any details without Danny's consent, but this is more of a Kon-El situation."

(Bruce, in particular, doesn't like how that info makes everything else snap into place, and the final picture isn't much better.)

"Kon-El situation– isn't she a toddler??"

"Why would anyone go for danny??"

"Was it Lex Luthor–?!"

Their questions were silenced by the sound of tiny footsteps running to the door and swinging it open with no grace.

The tiny being runs around the table, peeks over it to see where a certain woman is located at and sprint to her lap.

The father of said being isn't far from her, making sure she doesn't trip nor fall. Alfred closes the doors and flawlessly slips next to Bruce, the amused smile very much still present.

"Glam glam!" The tiny girl squeals excited, getting pulled up and seated, just in sight of everyone else.

She is like a carbon copy of her father, minus the gender, but at the stares she becomes quite shy, very endearing.

Danny sits next to them, grin on his face and gesturing to the batclan.

"Wanna meet your uncles and aunts, elle darling?"

[rorja]

today it seems i can’t stop thinking about neurologist!suguru… i came up with the idea for fun while i was watching a show and now it is haunting me with silly scenarios and stuff.

so please sit here a minute while i try to explain the vision i had this afternoon…! —🐣

neurologist!geto who quickly becomes the talk among the nurses of the university hospital he started working at last month. sure, he’s an excellent doctor and a great person and of course so polite and kind with his patients. but no, that’s not the only reason why he began to attract people’s curios stares.

neurologist!geto that is on duty the very next day after a troublesome night shift. visiting each patient of his ward dutifully while being accompanied by a nurse— who, coincidentally enough, is the one that seems to notice that odd little detail first.

neurologist!geto who becomes the center of the rumors that same afternoon. he’s a thirty years old beautiful man, and yet he seems to not have a ring on his finger! that’s shocking, a huge news! who would’ve thought that an amazing man like him was yet to marry. it was also weird considering the many people that got a crush on him, too…

neurologist!geto who shocks every doctor and every nurse in that hospital once again when the “bring your kids to work” day eventually arrives. showing up to the reception area of the main building gently squeezing the hand of a small and shy brunette child on his left while holding close to his chest a more enthusiastic and energetic blonde kid, who points her tiny finger around the decorated entrance. it takes less than one hour to discover that doctor Geto Suguru is a dad of two twins named Mimiko and Nanako.

neurologist!geto who happily answers questions about his daughters and encourages them to greet his friends, Satoru and Shoko, in the main hallway of the hospital building next to a coffee machine and a snack one. visibly ignoring the widened eyes of all the nurses passing by. he doesn’t care if they are shocked, what is important for him is that he got to opportunity to change the routine for his daughters, hoping they’ll have a wonderful time while prioritizing their comfort.

neurologist!geto who calls your name loudly while sitting in the cafeteria once he spots you looking at the menu. and you immediately light up once you see the two little girls eating their lunch boxes and talking about how cool their dad is while working. for an instant you hear Mimiko say ‘i want to be a doctor like him when i grow up’ and you can feel your gaze instantly softening. looking at geto with a fond smile as he tells her that he’ll happily support her if she wants to study medicine, but that he’ll be proud no matter what she chooses in the future.

neurologist!geto who surprises everyone in the hospital the day after. a silver band sitting comfortably on his ring finger that the nurses swear wasn’t there before. and when questioned about it, his only answer is “oh my wedding ring? i lost it about a month ago. me and my daughters were playing on a boat we’ve rented for their summer break, when it accidentally slipped from my finger into the water. i had to wait a bit to get a new one, but it was worthy. i’ll pay more attention to it in the future” with a polite smile before resuming his paperwork.

neurologist!geto who every day after work finally is free to come home to you and the twins you’ve adopted a week after your wedding. enjoying a simple evening watching a movie on the couch or playing some card games on the carpet of the living room, before helping you tucking the twins to bed. laughing with you when he recalls the odd questions about his ring from your colleagues of the pediatric ward back at the hospital, while helping you preparing the bed to go to sleep too.

neurologist!geto who is tired from his work, and yet focuses all the remaining energy in pulling you to his chest gently. holding your half asleep figure just as tenderly, a hand easing the knots between your hair and the other hugging your waist to keep you close to him. leaving a kiss on the crown of your head before closing his eyes with a content sigh. both of you eventually falling asleep before the loud melody of the clock wakes you up for a new day of work.

[katelynnwrites]

Oh I’ll Turn My Grey Skies (Blue) | Laura Freigang

warnings: laura's injury :(

word count: 1108

summary: due to her injury, your girlfriend comes home from national camp early

a/n: had to write something fluffy about it 😔

You’ve just finished putting away the groceries when Laura calls.

Which strikes you as odd because she never calls, always choosing to FaceTime due to her fervent claims of needing to see you smile at least once a day.

The other part that is strange is that your girlfriend is calling you in the middle of the day. She rarely does that during international breaks, really only having the time to talk to you properly when she’s getting ready for bed.

‘Schatz?’ You question anxiously as soon as you pick up the phone.

‘Hi.’

‘What’s wrong?’

Biting down on your lip, you cross your fingers and hope the sinking feeling in your stomach is unwarranted. The forward had video called you just last night and she had been alright then so she had to be okay now right?

Her voice is soft when she asks, ‘How open are you to having a little stay in movie date night today?’

‘Today?’ You double check.

‘Mhm.’

‘Laura what’s going on?’

‘I kinda sorta got hurt a tiny bit so I’m leaving camp early.’ She sheepishly admits.

‘Oh schatz.’ You breathe.

Practically sensing your worry, the blonde quickly explains, ‘I’m okay really! I just landed stupidly on my shoulder so the medical staff here thought it best that I come back to Frankfurt early, to get it properly checked out.’

‘I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to the international break.’

‘It fucking sucks.’ Laura sighs.

Though there is cheerfulness in her tone when she adds, ‘But I get to come home to you sooner! And have our date night?’

‘Yeah we can have our date night.’

Your girlfriend makes a pleased noise and a smile plays on your lips when you hear it.

‘When does your flight land schatz? Do you want me to come pick you up?’

‘Yes please. That would be sweet of you.’ Laura happily says.

There’s some muffled sounds on her end of the call and then her voice comes through again, ‘I’ll text you the details. Syd’s here to help me pack the last of my things now so I need to go but I will see you real soon okay?’

‘See you in a bit. I love you Lau.’

‘Love you more.’ She answers, hanging up before you get a chance to protest.

******

Laura has a sheepish smile on her face when you see her waiting for you at the airport arrivals.

‘Hi.’ You breathe.

‘I missed you.’ She softly greets.

‘I missed you too schatz.’

The blonde’s arm is in a sling and you can’t help but uneasily glance her over, wondering if you are missing anything else.

‘Hey I’m alright. It looks worse than it is, I promise.’

‘You sure?’ You ask, touching her bandaged arm lightly.

Your girlfriend nods, ‘Completely. In a few weeks, I’ll be back to scoring goals again.’

A giggle escapes you, ‘I see you’re confident.’

The blonde winks at you, ‘Isn’t that why you love me?’

‘More than just because of that but yes I love you Laura.’

Your words are nothing but honest and the German woman can’t help the slight pink tint that rises in her cheeks.

‘Let’s go home schatz.’ You whisper, as you grab the handle of her suitcase.

The striker begins to argue that you don’t need to get her suitcase but you give her a stubborn look and she relents.

Slipping her uninjured hand into yours, she murmurs, ‘Okay let’s go home.’

******

Your girlfriend has made herself very comfortable, practically fitting perfectly into your side as she dips into the bowl of snacks you both are sharing.

Her eyes are on the movie that is playing but yours are on her.

Absent-mindedly, you comb your fingers through her hair and she leans even further into you.

‘Schatz?’

Laura hums, turning to look at you questioningly.

Gently, you say, ‘You don’t have to pretend with me. It’s okay if you aren’t okay. You are allowed to be upset.’

The blonde sighs loudly.

‘I know and I’m not upset. Not really. Just frustrated at the timing of it all.’

Carefully, you press a kiss onto the side of her head, abundantly aware of how your girlfriend struggles with her lack of playing time on the national team. With Poppi out injured, you know she had been hoping for a chance to prove herself against both Austria and Iceland.

‘I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, you played incredibly well. I’m proud of you schatz. Is there anything I can do to help??

A small smile plays on the forward’s lips as she whispers, ‘You can kiss me.’

You giggle, doing as she requests immediately.

One kiss, two kisses, three kisses. A lifetime of kisses is what you will happily give Laura if she wants it.

Being careful of her injured shoulder, you angle yourself so that you are in a better position to kiss her safely, slipping your hand to cup the back of her neck while your other hand rests lightly on her cheek.

Your girlfriend begins to smile into your shared kisses, the two of you stealing quick breaths in between them.

‘Love your kisses. Love you.’ She eventually mumbles, her blue gray eyes shining.

‘I love you too.’

Laura leans in close to give you a kiss of her own.

When she pulls away, she has a sort of vulnerable look on her face.

‘Would it be too much or too silly if I were to ask you to kiss my shoulder better?’ She barely audibly requests.

‘Not at all.’ You reassure.

Very gently, you get her sling off and replace its support with your hand,

Laura’s gaze never leaves you as you tenderly touch your lips onto where her bandage is thickest, knowing that it is where she feels the most pain.

She’s been placing her free hand over it every now and then, during the movie, with a frown of discomfort etched on her face.

The striker did not think you had noticed but now she chokes up a little as she realises you have.

‘Did it work?’ You check.

Completely taken by you, Laura nods.

She can’t explain it but it does, the ache and soreness having receded a fractional amount.

‘Good.’

Easing your girlfriend’s arm back into her sling, you give her one more affectionate kiss.

‘Anything more you need and you let me know okay? I’m here for you Lau.’

‘I know. I know.’

Laura shifts so that she’s in your arms, content to simply be in your embrace for the moment.

Forever really because it is home to her.

You are home to her.

German Translation:

schatz - sweetheart

[sockeye-station]

Wait is your four the captain? How did that happen?

YES! YES!! I GOT SOMEONE TO ASK ABOUT IT! I WIN!!!!

CLEARS THROAT. OKAY OKAY OKAY IVE HAD THIS ROTATING IN MY HEAD FOR A HOT FUCKN MINUTE AND ILL TRY MY BEST TO EXPLAIN IT IN A WAY THAT MAKES SENSE

OKAY. LETS REWIND ALL THE WAY BACK TO OCTO EXPANSION!!!

so! octo expansion goes all normally, we have our agent 8 fighting through the entire structure to escape, agent 3 gets brainwashed, they have to fight, yadda yadda. you probably know how it goes by now. But here's the thing.

what if i went ahead and changed a tiny thing. just the teensiest detail.

what if instead of spamming splashdowns, tartar decides to use one big fuck off booyah bomb.

"but, didn't booyah bomb come out after octo expansion?"

yes. yes it did. and that's why i chose booyah bomb specifically.

tartar whipped out the idea to use a booyah bomb from some prototypes it found out about after abducting god-knows-who, and used it despite its unstable build. No one, at that moment, knew whatever that was, what it did, how dangerous it was, or anything of the sort. This was some sort of last hurrah, as it knew that this was its last shot at stopping this failure from escaping the facility. And so it exerted Agent 3 into giving it everything he's got. Quite literally, even! It pushed him so hard, he too became unstable while trying to mantain and boost the energy ball.

The Booyah Bomb is thrown with as much power as Tartar could muster out of that creature, pretty much covering most of the arena. Once the ink settles, and Agent 8 gathers his senses, he looks around. Agent 3 is nowhere to be seen.

at no point in canon is sanitized agent 3 properly splatted throughout the fight — you only break their shield, they superjump back to their platform, and you eventually knock them out. you never splat them. so who's to say that, just like agent 8 during the ascent, they don't have a respawn anchor?

That's what I decided to play with here. Agent 3 is splatted with no respawn anchor. Agent 3 is dead.

The rest of octo expansion plays as normal, only that there's no passed out Agent 3 waiting at the helicopter.

Starting from here, Agent 8 becomes affiliated with the NSS through Cuttlefish after breaking the news, feeling like he needs to make it up for the loss they suffered as he feels responsible for it. He grows closer with Agent 4, and eventually they become closer friends, even staying at her place after she invited him once their friendship was more developed. This paragraph is mostly to explain how they know each other and how their friendship started, also explaining why my Agent 8 gives OtH Agent 4's number instead of Cuttlefish.

Okay! Now, back to the point of this ask. I actually had a bit of this typed out in a server I'm in!

[Agent 4] didn't really have a choice when it came to becoming Captain, being the fifth longest-standing member of the NSS after craig, the squisters and agent 3. craig was retiring, the squid sisters were still busy with their inkopolis celebrity scene, and [Agent 3] was dead. so she was the next best option.

she didnt really ask for this in the first place, and yet she accepted out of hopes of being acknowledged. When she was just an agent, the rest of the team didn't keep in touch with her much (except for Agent 8) after the events of OE, and at one point even stopped being called for whenever Callie got the shades on again. Whenever she patrolled, she did it without any previous call, and was rarely acknowledged by the others. She still kept visiting the canyon whenever she could after everyone else had moved on.

even after becoming the "captain", the others didnt usually reach out to her for assistance, and instead tended to act on their own. they never really took her as captain, rarely listening to her. so obviously this whole mess made her feel like absolute dogshit, questioning why she even decided to go through with this.

that title was meant for [Agent 3]. not for her. he was the one that came before her, and was better than her in so many ways. at least that's what the others kept repeating around her.

as much of a punch in the gut being constantly compared to someone else was, she kept pushing to try and make herself known, separate from the other's achievements. which is why she ended up accepting marina's request.

[wrightingdungeon]

uhhhhh can you do i, v, y, and z for harvey 🥺🥺🥺

Prescribing you one dose of fluff and 2 tiny doses of angst, sorry, doctors orders

I - Intimacy: Harvey is a shy man, and it takes him quite a bit of time to warm up to people. Once you are able to get past his polite, reserved exterior, you will find that he is a romantic at heart. I mean he rented a hot air balloon for you two and cooks for you. His gestures are subtle but thoughtful. He holds doors open for you, makes sure you are served first at meals, and loves the quiet moments, like sitting together with a good book or enjoying a peaceful evening walk. —-

Leaning back on the couch, you chuckled softly at the show "The Queen of Sauce," enjoying the rare treat of a quiet evening at home. With most of your tasks and chores completed, relaxing was the one thing left to check off your list. You glanced over at Harvey on the other side of the couch, who was engrossed in his book, and hummed softly as you turned down the volume on the TV.

"What are you reading about?" you asked, leaning over to get a better look at the book he was so absorbed in.

"Wiley Post," he replied, chuckling softly as you laid your head on his lap. He looked down at you with a warm smile, his fingers gently brushing through your hair.

"Who?" you asked, barely skimming the words on the page, more wanting Harvey to tell you than to read yourself.

"A pilot who lost one of his eyes," Harvey explained, turning the page as he continued to read. His hand rested comfortably in your hair, the gentle, rhythmic motion soothing you.

"How did he do that?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. You looked up at him, momentarily forgetting about the cooking show that had previously held your attention.

"An oil drilling accident," Harvey responded, his voice soft and patient. He glanced down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "Despite that, he went on to become a famous aviator. He even set a few records for around-the-world flights."

You listened intently, captivated not just by the story, but by the way Harvey's eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about. His love for aviation was one of the many things you adored about him. 

Your eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, the details of Wiley Post's journeys blending into a dreamy haze. Harvey's voice became a soft, melodic background, like a lullaby coaxing you into slumber. The warmth of his lap and the tender strokes of his hand on your hair were all you needed to feel utterly at peace.

Harvey continued to speak, his voice a comforting murmur as he described Post’s solo flights and the challenges he faced. You could feel the weight of the day lifting from your shoulders, each word he spoke enveloping you in a sense of calm. His fingers threaded through your hair in a slow, deliberate pattern, their touch as soothing as the words he was saying.

The more he talked, the more you felt yourself drifting. You could barely keep your eyes open, each blink lasting a little longer than the last. The world around you began to blur, the edges softening as Harvey’s hand continued its gentle movement through your hair. You took a deep breath, the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the comforting smell of home, wrapping you in a blanket of tranquility.

The room seemed to grow quieter, the only sounds were the occasional crackle from the TV and the soft cadence of Harvey's voice. You felt yourself being pulled into a warm, inviting darkness, the last thing you remembered being the feel of Harvey’s hand in your hair and the sound of his gentle laughter and him whispering. “Sleep well.”

You drifted off completely, enveloped in the peace and security of Harvey, knowing that you were exactly where you needed to be.

V - Vulnerability: Harvey feels most vulnerable when you are hurt. Yes, it's a cliché, but no one really discusses the ethical dilemma a doctor endures when having to work on their own partner. As the only doctor in town, Harvey must balance his professional responsibilities with his personal feelings. In the medical field, it’s a big no-no to work on loved ones, yet Harvey has no choice if you come in very injured. Maru is only a nurse; while she knows some things, the critical emergencies fall on Harvey's shoulders.

his vulnerability is most apparent in these moments. He’s forced to compartmentalize his emotions, pushing down his fear and sorrow to perform his duties. After the crisis, when the immediate danger has passed, and he finally allows himself to feel, the emotional floodgates open. He might retreat to his office or a quiet corner, where the weight of what he’s just endured crashes over him. He feels the overwhelming relief that you’re safe mingled with the residual terror of how close he came to losing you. —-

Harvey sat on the floor, the cold from the white tile seeping up through his pants, chilling his legs, helping to ground him for a moment. He stared at his shoes, the only sounds he made were his ragged breathing and the wet blinks as he tried to clear his eyes. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood that still lingered from the surgery.

Marlon had found you deep in the mines and brought you to him. You were rough—more than rough. Your body was covered in bloody cuts, and deep bruises, each wound telling a story of the battle you endured. Harvey had no idea what to do, his body and mind falling into a freeze response. He felt paralyzed, his medical training momentarily forgotten as sheer panic gripped him. He was lucky Maru was there to help snap him out of it.

He looked over at Maru as she sat in his swivel chair, her head held low. She had been by his side the whole surgery, working tirelessly to help stabilize you and reminding Harvey that he needed to be professional for your sake. Her hands were still stained with your blood, and the exhaustion in her eyes mirrored his own.

His eyes trailed back up to you lying on the surgery table, eyes closed, looking peaceful yet battered. Your chest rose and fell steadily, a sign that the worst was over, but the sight of your injuries made his heartache. The memory of your lifeless form being carried in by Marlon played on a loop in his mind, a nightmare he couldn't escape.

His tears started to flow freely, a sob ripping out of his throat as he pulled his knees to his chest. The weight of the day’s events crashed down on him, leaving him feeling helpless and overwhelmed. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, and the fear of what could have happened gnawed at his soul.

He remembered the first time he met you, how your smile had lit up the clinic, and the countless moments you had shared since then. The thought of never seeing that smile again was unbearable. Harvey's shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, the emotional toll of the day finally breaking through his composed exterior.

Maru stood up quickly and walked over to him, kneeling before him and wrapping her arms around him gently, careful not to get her blood-stained hands on him. "It's over now, they're okay. They're okay," she whispered weakly, her voice showing how tired she was.

Harvey leaned into her embrace, finding some comfort in her presence. "I was so scared, Maru," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I… I thought I might lose them. I couldn’t bear the thought..."

"I know," she replied softly, stroking his back soothingly with her arm. "But we did it. They're going to be alright."

Her words soothed his heartache slightly, but the fear and worry were not entirely gone. "It was so close," he murmured. "I kept thinking about... I don’t know how… how I could face losing them."

Maru tightened her hold on him. "You didn’t lose them," she said firmly. "They’re here, they’re stable."

Harvey nodded, taking a deep, shuddering breath as he tried to steady himself. He wiped his tears away, his hands still trembling slightly. "Thank you, Maru…”

Z - Zilch: One thing Harvey has zero tolerance for is neglecting your health. He’s deeply invested in your well-being, both as a doctor and someone who genuinely cares about you. When he discovers the extent to which you’ve been mistreating your body—pushing yourself to the brink with back-breaking work, consuming ungodly excessive amounts of caffeine, and only eating when you’re on the verge of collapse—he takes immediate action.

Harvey won't stand by idly while you jeopardize your health. He insists on a complete overhaul of your routine, ensuring you rest properly and eat at regular intervals. He stays up late, anxiously waiting for you to return home. He doesn't allow you to brush off his worries or ignore his advice. Instead, he meticulously checks you over, from head to toe, ensuring there are no lingering issues, as well as making sure you’re cleaned up and cared for properly. —-

Carefully shutting the front door behind you, you let out a small sigh of relief upon seeing that Harvey wasn’t sitting on the couch, waiting for you. While you appreciated his care, it often felt like he was pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion with his worry for you.

Kicking off your mud-caked boots, and hanging up your bag, the feeling of ache of your day's in every movement. Your joints creaked with fatigue, echoing the exhaustion you felt deep inside. You shuffled toward the bedroom, and with a soft, almost hesitant motion, you eased open the bedroom door, hoping to find Harvey peacefully asleep.

As you peered inside, a nervous smile touched your lips when you saw Harvey lift his gaze from his book. The surprise in his eyes quickly transformed into a deep, palpable concern. His eyebrows drew together in a frown, and he set his book aside with a deliberate, almost frantic urgency. “What’s that?” he asked, his voice a mix of worry and curiosity, tinged with the softest edge of frustration as he started to rise from his chair.

You couldn’t help but glance down at your arm, where a large, deep cut looked back at you. The sight of it made you wince involuntarily, and you instinctively tried to shield it from his view, hiding it behind your back. “Nothing, hun,” you said with a strained laugh, attempting to downplay the severity of the situation as you made a clumsy attempt to sidestep him and head toward the bathroom.

But just as you thought you might escape his scrutiny, you felt Harvey’s hands gently but firmly grasp your hips, his touch both grounding and insistent. His fingers were warm and steady, and his gaze was unwavering as he gently guided you back toward him. “Stop,” he said softly but with an unyielding firmness. “Let me see.”

There was no mistaking the depth of his concern, and you knew that any attempt to brush off his worry would be met with resolute insistence. Looking back at him, you saw his eyes locked onto yours, filled with worry. With a resigned sigh, you turned to face him fully, understanding that there was no reason to resist him.

Harvey’s hands were tender yet thorough as he examined the injury on your arm. His touch was careful as if he was afraid to cause you any further discomfort. “What happened?” he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine concern as he guided you towards the bathroom. “I… Uh missed a block…” you said softly, your gaze falling to the bathmat as you sat on the edge of the tub.

He retrieved the first aid kit from under the sink, the soft rustling of its contents filling the otherwise quiet room. Harvey’s sighed out of his nose, his frustration with the situation showing. As he opened the kit, his eyes remained focused on your arm, each glance reflecting the depth of his concern. The usual calmness in his demeanor was now tinged with an edge of anxiety.

Harvey began to clean the wound with meticulous care, his hands moving with a practiced gentleness. The antiseptic stung slightly, but he worked with a soothing, steady touch, trying to work quickly but diligently. The room was quiet, punctuated only by the soft sounds of his movements and the occasional rustle of the first aid supplies.

As he carefully applied the bandage, his brow remained furrowed. “I… I need you to be more careful,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying the weight of his concern. “You push yourself too hard, and it worries me.” His eyes now met yours, and the gentle pleading in them was impossible to ignore.

“Harvey—” you started, but he cut you off by cupping your face in his hands, ensuring that your eyes met his.

“Please, I love you,” he said softly but with an undeniable urgency. “I can’t stand seeing you like this. You’re burning yourself out, and it’s taking a toll on you. I need you to take care of yourself—for you, and for me.”

His words, filled with earnestness and affection, wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. The sincerity in his voice and the intensity of his gaze made it clear how deeply he felt about your well-being. You nodded slowly, feeling a swell of gratitude and emotion. “I understand,” you said softly. “I’ll try to be better about it, ok.”

Harvey’s expression softened, and he pulled you into a gentle hug, resting his chin on the top of your head. “That’s all I ask,” he murmured into your hair, as he gently rubbed your back.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Okay, y'all, it's rant time again. Buckle up.

A new report just came out from Public Citizen highlighting the dangers of using apps and AI foraging guides for identifying mushrooms, particularly when mushroom foraging. It's the latest in a string of warnings that are fighting against a tide of purported convenience ("just take a picture and get your answer instantly!")

I've ranted about this since last August, and I also wrote up a detailed post on how to identify an AI-generated foraging guide. I'm also including info on the limitations of apps and AI in The Everyday Naturalist: How to Identify Animals, Plants, and Fungi Wherever You Go. I'm not just saying this to toot my own horn--it's because nature identification, and teaching it to others, is literally what I do for a living. So this is a topic near and dear to my heart.

I teach a very, very specific sort of identification class; whether we're focusing on animals, plants, fungi, or all of the above, I walk people through a detailed process of how to observe a given organism, make note of its various physical traits and habitat, and use that information to try to determine what it is. I emphasize the need to use as many sources as possible--field guides, websites, online and in-person groups, journal articles, etc.--to make absolutely sure that your identification is solid.

And every year, I get people (thankfully, a very small minority of my students) who complain because my two-hour basic mushroom hunting class wasn't just five minutes of introduction and one hundred and fifteen minutes of me showing slide after slide of edible mushrooms. There are so many people out there who just want a quick, easy answer so they can frolic in the woods and blithely pick mushrooms like some idealized image of a cottagecore herbalist with a cabin full of dried plants and smiling frogs or something.

While I do incorporate a bit of information on getting started with the app iNaturalist in my classes, it is as only ONE of MANY tools I encourage people to use. Sure, it's more solid than most apps because, in addition to the algorithmic I.D. suggestions it initially gives you, other iNaturalist users can go onto your observations later and either agree with your I.D.s or suggest something different and even explain why.

And yet--even as great as iNat is, it and its users can still be wrong. So can every other I.D. app out there. And I think that is one thing that the hyper-romanticized approaches to foraging--and nature identification in general--miss. In order to be a good forager, you HAVE to also be good at nature identification.

And nature identification is an entire process that requires you to have solid observational and critical thinking skills, to be able to independently research using many different types of tools, and be willing to invest the time, patience, and focus to properly arrive at a solid identification--if not to species level, then as far down the taxonomic ladder as you can realistically manage. (There's a reason even the experts complain about Little Brown Mushrooms and Damned Yellow Composites!)

People mistake one single tool--apps--for the entire toolkit. They assume any book they find on Amazon is going to be as good as any other, and don't take the time to look up the author to determine any credentials or experience, or even whether they actually exist or not. It doesn't help that the creators of these products often advertise them as "the only [book/app/etc.] you need to easily identify [organism of choice]!"

I mean, sure, the world isn't going to end if you never question the birdsong results on the Merlin app, or if you go through life thinking a deer fern is just a baby western sword fern. But when we get into people actually eating things they find in the wild, there's often no room for error. There are plants and mushrooms that can kill you even if you only eat a tiny amount. And even if they don't kill you, they may make you wish you were dead for a few days while you suffer through a whole host of gastrointestinal nastiness and other symptoms.

There aren't any shortcuts if you want to be safe in your foraging. You HAVE to be willing to do the work. And any teacher, author, or product that says otherwise isn't being ethical. I'm glad to see more people speaking out against the "fast foodization" of foraging in regards to overreliance on apps and the existence of AI foraging books; I just hope it's enough to prevent more people from getting sick or dying.