#you write about a little girl's shoe in the rubble of her home.“

[erinwantstowrite]

bear with me here because i'm gonna ramble about something i've been thinking about for a while... and i'm not complaining, i'm just noticing

sometimes i think we've leaned so far into the vigilante side of the batfam that we miss out on what really makes their characters: detective work. we need more mysteries in their lives that don't lead up to some big bad "we already know who's doing it" or an "end of the world" or "yet again: this fucking guy." we need more stuff where spy movie music plays in the background and dumb adventures that don't lead up to some huge grand event with a big name villain. the shock factor stops being shocking or interesting in any capacity if we're like "Gah! the Joker! ... Again!" or whatever

does that even make sense? like "yeah sure they're blowing up a building again and there's hostages. oh look they're gonna poison the water supply." these aren't bad and that's not what i'm getting at because obviously this is a classic for comics. you need to have characters/antagonists that show up more than once and who can make a story better by being in it. and i did say to bear with me- that's because im tired. so like i hope im getting this across the right way? it's just that sometimes i don't wanna see a huge explosion, i want these motherfuckers solving a regular murder or a disappearance or regular corruption in a local office without it being tied to a grand reveal like "actually this person knows you as a long lost relative" or "they were at that circus can you guess which night they went?" that kind of thing? if you get me? like... more of the small time stuff makes the big stuff important, it makes it stand out more. at some point, the format gets repetitive even if you're switching up the villains. you can make these situations/mysteries still fun to solve for the characters and fun to read for the audience if you do it right

the concept of a detective dressed as a bat and having a sidekick in traffic light colors is inherently goofy as hell??? but that is what is so charming about it??? i think we have lost the balance between them being silly while also being intelligent with important conversations that criticize the world as we see it and teach lessons and can go over dark topics. nowadays it's always end of the world problems or just straight up the most gruesome true crime you can think of?? or they can ONLY do the dark stuff and the criticism without offering a balance of the good in the world. or we keep coming back to the FUCKING JOKER-

like yes they are vigilantes and with that comes a different level of their work, but their brand should be a mix between a black and white detective film that can get very nitty gritty and a classic spy movie, that kind of thing. at the end of the day, it's what makes them so different from the superheroes. that's what appeals to me.

seeing them in the big superhero groups is fun, don't get me wrong. it's always funny to see them standing next to people who are so powerful they never really fit in with anyone but each other, who chose to step up and use their powers for good. the Bats' specialty is Gotham and yet here they are stopping a god or whatever. and they do stop the god or whatever, all the while being an important leader and strategist to their teammates. they're important to have in these cases. but if there's a world ending event every time i pick something up, it's not as fun

the fact that they are so very human and not fantastical is why i like reading them. it's what makes the joke of people, even Gotham citizens, theorizing about them being cryptids, funny. they're fucking weird but that's because they're detectives. people who love to solve mysteries usually have a fatal flaw of curiosity. they forget the bounds between social interactions sometimes because they're used to working through problems or being intertwined with partners that understand them. but they're very much human. so human that it hurts them in many ways. and idk i've just been thinking about it lately and idk what point i'm trying to get across actually

it's just that in my eyes that's how it really is for Batman- a black and white movie narrated by a very serious man who took up a job to help people, one that has a deeper commentary on the world and viewed outwardly as pessimistic but actually has a deep hope for his city and who tries to help even the people who have wronged others. He's a stationary man in the belief that him being a constant can serve to soothe others and help them move forward. He stays in the middle of the path so he can tell everyone what is up ahead. he blends into the Gotham rainy night to serve justice but in a way that saves both the victim and the perpetrator. (the way he tucks a Robin into his cape is the same he does for Gotham with his mere presence.) and his background is actually so important to his story and yet people still somehow gloss over the lesson from it? he lost his parents because of a man who was on the opposite end of the spectrum to where he was in life. and yet he chose to help the people like the man that killed his parents. he could have done anything else with his power and money, but he instead is choosing to bring as many people up with him as he can. He's Mr. Serious that no one else can get a read on. and yet he walks into a room and he's already piecing together your life and what you're going through because he thinks it matters. he comforts people who have lost something or someone or themselves. I picture Batman and I don't picture a man trying to save the world, I picture a detective walking around a crime scene and trying to save at least one person every time he puts on the cape. and he put on the cape and became a vigilante because then he could go out of the bounds of what laws have been set up- and specifically, Gotham has other people in power who are corrupt, keeping the system that way. that's why Batman being a billionare and throwing himself into helping people at the risk of his own life is so important. he knows that if you are alive, you have something or someone to lose, no matter who you are. the dude is a bleeding heart but he doesn't know how to express it, in fear that if he gets too close, if he moves down the path with them, he'll be lost again

and then he's met with someone who should be a complete opposite, but isn't at all, because they're two sides of the same coin. his partner in crime, his son, a boy that is nothing like the black and white world that he sees. and that's the point in his life where he first sees that potentially getting lost is worth the risk. Robin is color and passion that needs guidance to move forward, but can not do so unless the stationary man learns to move with him. the kid is loud and reckless and you'd think he's from a different genre from the detective but they aren't so different, really. not when you look close enough. Dick grew up moving from place to place and seeing the world, knowing so many different people from different cultures. He's been learning to fly and jump and embrace the free fall his entire life. He's clever and he's sharp, and he thrives in the action and adventure. it's that perspective that compliments the stationary man. one is steady and the other pushes. he's the same genre but a different generation. and Batman introducing him to the way of life he chose for himself was another way he could save someone. because let's be real for a second? Dick would have gone down a very dark path had he not had Bruce, who understood, who saw not just himself in the kid but also saw who the kid has been his entire life until now. he saw Dick's parents, he saw the family he had in the circus, he saw the joy he had in what his family was doing. he saw the grief and the fire and the color that Dick's world was made of. because to Bruce, it always matters. Dick had to come to terms with Bruce's perspective to help anyone who they come across, to always give more chances, and it kept Dick from losing his color

what gets me is that the man who lives in the black and white world can actually see many different shades of gray (because black and white always needs the medium), whereas the boy in a world of color and light can get so focused on the bright that he can become single minded. and yet the boy sees a world of color and delves deeper into the lives of the peolle they come across and can be much more open minded, and the man in the black and white world sometimes forgets the shades of grey are right there. they are just like each other. they can exist without the other, but do they want to? because the black and white can be built up into the colored image, like the inking and shadows drawn on a comic book page before the colors are added in. they meet in the middle to complete each other. Bruce has been passing the story over to the next generation for a long, long time, even before his story was complete. and just like with the first Robin, it was so for every Robin afterwards. they each color in the lines differently, but that's what makes Robin so special, so unique. they are an art style that branches into their own life, but can not forget where they started: tucked into Batman's cape and the inky black of his world

and so detective work really frames their hunanity to me. the mysteries they get their hands on, the glimpses into the lives of Gotham citizens that they swore to protect, it's fascinating. it's what makes their story stand out compared to the people who can lift trucks or cast spells or run around the world in seconds. so yeah ig that's what i'm trying to say? that i want to read more of that? in both canon and fanon. cause even the small time villains we see can be like. AWFUL people and it takes out the fun of their gimmicks. and if it were any other day this would be a more coherent post but alas, it is not any other day

[katsukisbimbo]

bun bun

✯ pairing: usagiyama rumi x reader

✯ synopsis: everything changed for you when your favourite hero, usagiyama gets thrown inside your shop.

✯wordcount: 12.4k+

✯warning: fem! reader, she/her pronouns, wlw, swearing :))

✯ note: this is dedicated for lovely andrea <3 aka ms @kagsbuns !! I think I got carried away tho. this was only supposed to be 10k max, but at 9k I still didn’t get to the conflict so here we are LOL. I hope u guys enjoy!! this is my first time writing something so long!

You sighed as you used you picked up the heavy basket of apples. Your day usually consisted of tending to your growing vegetables in the early morning, before picking and washing the ripened vegetables and fruit. Using some fresh peppers from your garden to spice up your usual omelette for breakfast, then getting ready for work. 

You currently owned a cute little produce market in the middle of the city, which was only a twenty-minute walk from your home. Your small shop was mostly frequented by old folks and young moms buying fruits and veggies for their children.

 You loved your work and your life, tending to vegetables and fruits and selling them. Your work helped you produce a schedule, a schedule that kept you sane. 

You smiled as Ms. Takeshi walked in, smiling at you before browsing through her favourite strawberries that you had just picked and washed this morning. “Good morning lovely! Your fruits and vegetables look wonderful today! Did you also make some of my favourite banana bread?” She queried as she made her way to the display case where you kept your freshly made pastries. 

“Of course Ms. Takeshi! I already wrapped it up for you!” you handed the bag over to her. “You’re going to be a great wife one day lovely” She smiles as she leaves the door, leaving you with a sour taste in your mouth. Your smile dropped as you activated your quirk. You had a plant quirk, pretty convenient for your work. You were able to manipulate plants and grow them to your will.

Large vines soon began to rise from your potted plants as you started to organize some of your products, not liking how they looked. You rolled your eyes as you recalled what Ms. Takeshi had said to you. Every morning was the same thing with her. Some days she would even try to set you up with her grandson. Yes, you were only 19, turning 20, but you already had everything you wanted. Plus, you didn’t play for the other team. 

You were more of a “We fell in love in October” kinda gal. 

Your thoughts were swiftly interrupted at the sound of a body getting thrown inside your shop, soon landing right in front of you. It took you two seconds to register that a body just flew into your shop and ruined your blueberries, and another two seconds to figure out that this body belonged to the Rabbit Hero: Mirko herself. You gasped softly as you pried her body out of the rubble with your vines. 

You propped her up onto your counter before wrapping your vines around her once more, with the purpose to heal her bruised body. You concentrated your power as you continued to heal her, your vines sprouting flowers and glowing with a light yellow hue. 

You had to restrain yourself from cooing when you saw her nose twitch. It wasn’t known that you were fond of heroes. Everyone had assumed that you had no interest in it, when in fact, you’ve been a huge fan of Mirko’s for some time. You did have other heroes you liked, but Mirko had your attention and heart. 

You struggled to breathe as you felt your energy being sapped out of your body. You didn’t know how much longer you would be able to take, especially when you had only used your quirk for meagre housework, up until now that is. You suddenly jolted in surprise when Mirko’s arm shot up and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, bringing your face barely ten centimetres away from hers. 

As her mouth opened to speak, another crash occurred nearby, making both of your heads snap up in the direction of the noise. You gaped as you saw the wrongdoer slowly walk towards your shop. “Mirko-san, please get up” you shakily whispered to her. 

She laughed at your cute shivering figure before jumping up on top of the counter. “Come at me bitch!” she provoked before they hastily jumped her. You quickly threw yourself out of the way and hid behind your apples. “Hey! Baby carrot!” she hollered as she pinned down the villain. “Get out of here!” Rumi growled. You immediately shook your head, small tears sliding doing your cheeks. 

“I-I can’t! I’m not gonna let either of you mess up my shop!” you weakly yelled as you somehow mustered up enough strength to summon your largest vines, speedily sending them towards the villain and entrapping them, leaving Mirko to gape at your work. She whistled as she observed the vines twining around the body of the unfortunate villain. ‘T-That’s kinda hot, not gonna lie’ she thought in her head before successfully knocking the villain out with one kick. 

“Hey, you okay there?” she questioned as she looked at your trembling figure. You felt unable to respond to her query, your throat suddenly closed up. You let out a squeak in response before feeling your knees buckle, your body quickly tumbling to the ground. Before you could even graze the wooden floor, Miruko already had her arms wrapped around you, carrying your unconscious body princess style, your face nuzzled onto the top of her breast. 

“My poor bunny” she cooed before wiping the sweat off your brow, taking you to the closest ambulance to get the both of you checked out. 

___

You groaned as the exhaustion started to seep into your body. Your head was killing you. You peeled your eyes open, expecting to see your room, only to see a blindingly white hospital room. A few machines monitoring your blood pressure and heart rate had been situated by your side, along with your IV drip which was currently connected to your left arm. 

“I see you’re up” voice booms, making their presence known. 

You turned to see Mirko, sitting on the couch, clad in civilian clothing. You blushed as her outfit consisted of a black leather jacket, accompanied by tight black jeans, a white v-neck shirt, and chunky leather shoes. To sum it all up, she looked delectable. You felt your cheeks warm at the sight of your hero crush. What was she doing here in the first place? Wasn't she supposed to be on patrol or something? What was she doing, wasting her time on a girl like yourself?

You cleared your throat before piping up. “W-why’re you here?” you questioned before quickly averting your gaze. 

“You saved my life, my little carrot” She started, standing up and making her way towards your bed. You felt yourself slightly flinch back, intimidated by both her figure and her aura. Mirko had an intense vibe that made you want to crawl into a hole and die. The way she carried herself was both overwhelming and admirable. She was just so captivating, it was like-

“Hey. Hey!” she snapped her fingers in your face. “What’s wrong carrot? Are you nervous? Last time I saw you, you were brimming with complete and utter confidence. Well, kinda, but you were still badass. Are you a badass or was that just a facade to impress lil ol’ me? Hm?” she teases, her face nearing yours. 

“I-I no! I mean y-yes! Um!” you felt yourself about to tear up from embarrassment. You were humiliating yourself in front of your favourite hero. You sputtered once more before deciding to just shut your mouth, staring at your lap where your hands were neatly folded. 

“What’s wrong carrot? Do I make you nervous?” she taunted. 

God, now you wanted to cry. 

 You felt your tears starting to arise, your throat closing up. Your lips were quivering. You tense your jaw to prevent any whimpers from slipping out, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself any further. Mirko's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. She made her poor carrot cry! 

She immediately took your hands off of your lap, bringing one of your hands to rest against her soft cheek. She then gave your palm a soft kiss. “Don’t cry! I didn’t mean to tease ya that much!”. You just nodded as you felt yourself become light-headed at her actions. The Pro-Hero Mirko just kissed your palm. She just kissed your palm. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

You were unaware of how to act in front of her as you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself any further than today. You would always remember the time you embarrassed yourself in front of your hero crush. 

“What happened by the way? Why am I here?” you piped up, taking the time to admire her bright and shining face. 

“Well, I accidentally got thrown into your shop and got knocked out. You used your little vines to help me out! I passed out a little, but the villain came, and I tried to fight him, but before I could do some real damage, you stepped in and told us that you weren’t about to let us ruin your shop and apprehended the villain by yourself! I didn’t know you had it in ya! I was so surprised but I managed to knock out the fella! You also ended up passing out dear! I had to catch ya and carry you to the ambulance myself!” She grinned, playing with your fingertips. 

“I’m so sorry“ you cried, gripping tightly onto her fingers. “I didn’t mean to make your job harder for you! I‘m only nineteen and I don’t have enough money to repair any of the damages! Are there even damages? For sure there are!” you were about to cry again. Everything was just so overwhelming that your first reaction was to cry. 

You’ve only met Mirko and you’ve managed to embarrass yourself three times. 

“Don’t worry about it, carrot. I already took care of the damages, because I was the one who got thrown into your shop. Don’t worry about being a crybaby either. It’s cute” she gave you her signature toothy grin. 

“I-Thank you! Thank you so much Mirko-san!” You cried, bowing as low as you could in your state. 

“Don’t worry about it” she brushed off. 

“Please! I have to repay you somehow! I can give you a free produce? I can make your bread? I can't offer much” your brows furrowing. You wanted to repay her. 

“Yeah? I’ll think of something, cutie. Anyways, I gotta run, I’ll see you around yeah?” She quipped before making her way out of her room, giving you one last smile before exiting. 

You had it bad for her. For sure. 

___

It’s been a week since you were discharged from the hospital, you didn’t have any fatal wounds but was only admitted for overusing your quirk, you didn’t use your quirk for anything as exhausting as apprehending a criminal. 

You sighed as you continued to tend to your vegetables, already missing a certain someone’s presence. Meeting with her, even for such a short time was an experience. 

You clicked your tongue as you checked the time, you only had half an hour to make your way to work and set up your produce. 

You wondered if you would be able to see her again. 

You continued to bustle around, seeing Ms. Takeshi rushing inside. “Oh my goodness! Are you all right lovely? I heard about the attack! Thank goodness you’re okay!” she continued to check your body for any bruises or wounds, sighing in relief when she found none. 

“I’m fine Ms. Takeshi! I wasn’t attacked, a Pro got thrown into my shop.. and she saved me” your mind drifted to the memory of Mirko lunging at the criminal, putting her body in front of yours to shield you from any attacks. 

“She saved me” quipped up a voice. 

Both you and Ms. Takeshi had whipped your head around, seeing Mirko, clad in her hero costume with her hand on her hip. She smirked at your bewildered reaction before moving further into the store. 

“M-Mirko-san! What’re you doing here?”

“I don’t know, to be honest, I was in the area and I just missed your face” she walked around, admiring the large carrots you had grown in your garden. 

“Y-you missed me? I-I missed you too, M-Mirko-san..” you blushed, averting her piercing gaze. “You’re such a precious carrot, call me Rumi” she offered, stretching her hand out to yours in a handshake, you hesitantly took it, noting how her hand dwarfs yours. 

“I couldn’t possibly!” releasing her hand. “Why not? We’re friends aren't we?” your eyes widened at her implication that you two had something more than just a fan and idol relationship.  

“I-I YES! Of course, we are!” you rushed, not wanting to upset her. If she was willing to call you her friend then who were you to disagree? Not everyone has the chance to be friends with their favourite idol. 

Ms. Takeshi smirked as she watched the exchange between the two, noting how each of them had quite a fond look in their eyes. She shook her head as she signalled you that she was about to leave, you gave her a hasty goodbye before going back to Mirko-- or Rumi, as she preferred. 

‘Those two are getting together’ Ms. Takeshi absently thought, smiling at the thought of you finally having the companion you deserved.

“This is a cute place ya got here, it's almost as cute as you” she flirted, smirking at your abashed expression. Normally you would have cringed at such a cheesy line, but to be honest, it hit a little different when it was Rumi who was saying it. “I’m not cute!” you huffed. You were a strong independent woman! You were not cute. 

As you continued to stew in your thoughts, Rumi proceeded with exploring your cute little shop, sampling some fruits as she passed by. “D’ya have any family here?” she queried, popping a plump, red strawberry in her mouth, almost gasping at the sweetness and freshness of the berry. “I don’t actually! I moved here just a year ago to start the shop I've been dreaming about ever since I was a kid!” you smiled, recalling the obstacles you had gone through to reach your goal. 

“That's good! It’s good to have goals you want to work towards, it keeps people motivated” 

“How about you Rumi-san? Do you have any family here?” you piped up, curious of her families’ whereabouts. Did she live here alone? There was only so much information that could be disclosed to the public about heroes and their personal lives. 

“They don’t live here. They’re back in my hometown. It’s nice living out here, I get to do what I want, save all the people I can, and kick as much as... Though, there are times where I miss my family... They’re a rambunctious and chaotic bunch I tell ya!” she chortled. 

You felt yourself melt at the very thought of Rumi with her family, playing and spending time with her small cousins/siblings. If someone were to describe the look on your face, they would have immediately said that you looked either lovesick or had heart eyes. You blushed at the thought of spending time with Rumi and just being gay <3 with each other. You honestly needed to get a love life, it isn’t normal to fantasize about your idol, especially when they’re right in front of you. 

Rumi noticed that you were mentally elsewhere, smiling at your dumbstruck expression. What were you thinking about that was more interesting than her? Was it perhaps Rumi herself? She shook her head, trying to disperse her somewhat indecent thoughts. It wasn’t proper to ogle or fantasize about your friend. 

“Hey, can I get your number?” she piped up, causing you to snap out of the internal conflict you were previously having about yourself. “W-what?” you stuttered, unbelieving of the fact that she, Usagiyama Rumi, had just asked for your number. Plain, old, little you! This was an absolute dream. 

You quickly nodded, having no words as you haven’t fully processed her question or the meaning of it. You struggled to extract your phone from the pocket of your overalls. Curse women's clothing and their tiny pockets! Rumi laughed at your struggles, loving at how you scrunch your cute little nose when you feel feelings of frustration. 

 “Aha! I got it!” you cheered, fist-pumping with your phone in your hand, before sheepishly handing your phone to her. Rumi raised a brow. “Is this me as your lock screen?” she smirked. 

At this point, you were begging the Gods, any God, to take your soul. You did not understand how you could have forgotten such a crucial thing! You were an idiot! A dumbass! 

“And, did you edit yourself in the picture so it looked like we took a picture together?” 

 You felt your brain short circuit. You froze up, unblinking and unbreathing. Rumi didn’t mean to tease you so much. You were just adorable! The fact that you had been too shy to ask her for a picture and kept the edited one as your lock screen amused her to no end. She just wanted to eat you up!

As she continued to gush about your cute habits and you in general, you were tearing yourself up inside. You thought you had changed your lock screen a few days ago! It was a picture of Rumi as well, but you weren’t included. She must think you’re desperate! Or a stalker. Or worse! A desperate stalker! 

“Lord, please take me” you whispered, hoping that someone would grant your wish this time. “What was that baby carrot? You want me to take you? I don’t mind, but I wanna get to know you better first”

Your jaw dropped at Rumi’s insinuation. “I’m kidding! You're adorable. C’mere” she beckoned, not wanting to keep her waiting you immediately made your way towards her side, her muscular arm scooping you up and pressing you against her warm body. 

“R-Rumi-san..! What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture ya dummy! Make this your lock screen okay? I want everyone to know” she winked. She pressed her face against yours before capturing a picture. You felt as if your face was on fire. She was smashed against you! “Hey, you okay with fanservice?” she asked, you nodded your head, curious of what she had under her sleeve. 

Rumi soon grabbed a hold of your chin before pressing her soft lips against the chub of your cheeks. She quickly snapped the picture, capturing your embarrassed face. She let go of you, opting to check the pictures to see if they had come outright. “You want one more baby carrot?” she mused, peering at your warmed face. 

You slowly nodded your head, she threw her head back and laughed, coming over once more and wrapping you in her arms. This time, she walked, well, more like waddled, as you were in her arms, to put your phone on the counter, setting the timer for three seconds. She hugged you tightly, resting her head on top of yours. 

Since she was already taking pictures, might as well request some poses right?

“Can we do peace signs? I… I like peace signs” you mumbled, twiddling with your thumbs. “Oh gosh, you're adorable!” she gushed. “Peace!” the both of you posed as the flash went off. 

You ran back to your phone, eager to see how the pictures had turned out while Rumi had stayed behind, watching your excited figure. Your eyes lit up as you examined the photos you both had taken. They were adorable! ��Rumi-san looks very pretty” you mumbled, unaware that she was now peering over your shoulder and heard what you had said. 

“You gotta stop tempting me, baby carrot. As I said, I wanna get to know you better” she smiled. You blushed. This was the second time she had mentioned that. Does she like you as well? You felt a little bold so you decided to take your opportunity to fluster her as well. 

“If you wanna get to know me better, why not go to lunch with me?” you offered, slyly smiling at how her jaw was left ajar. “Y-You cheeky little brat! If you're free right now we can go but it’ll be my treat okay?” she insisted, raising her brow as if to say ‘are you going to say no to free food’. 

You nodded and agreed, who were you to say no to free food? Especially free food with your favourite hero/crush. She extended her hand towards you and you gladly took it, lacing your fingers with hers, loving how both of your hands fit perfectly within each other. 

“Let’s go baby carrot. I’ll make sure to feed you lots” 

___

“Nooo-- Rumi no more!”

“It’s okay carrot, I know you want more” she smirked

“I can’t! I-It’s too much” you moaned, rubbing your bloated stomach with both of your hands. Both of you had eaten too much chicken! Rumi decided to challenge you to an eating challenge, ordering a whole 10 piece box for each of you. That, plus the drinks and fries she had ordered on the side. 

“Awh you’re so cute, for sure you’ll be sleepy” she cooed, propping her chin upon her fist. “I’m thankful for you Rumi-san, but if I eat more, I’ll surely explode” you cried, wanting to just go home and nap. You closed your eyes and leaned back. You couldn’t even breathe properly anymore! She was going to stuff you full! [;)]

“Hye, carrot. I gotta ask since I want both of us to be on the same page. Was this a date? I mean, would you consider this a date?” she sheepishly asked, bringing warmth to your cheeks. You didn't perceive this as a date, since you two never really outright stated it was a date, but it did seem date-ish. 

Rumi watched as you struggled to come up with an answer. “Ah! I didn’t mean to pressure you carrot! I’m sorry! I-I just really like you, and if you didn’t consider this as a date, I would like to take you out--that's only if you agree! As I said, no pressure cutie”

What was she talking about? This was so much pressure! On the bright side, your crush likes you back. This was a miracle! She was famous on top of that1 not that you liked her for her popularity, but she could have anyone, and she chose you! You had to thank which God was looking out for you, or if it was just your luck. Either way, you’ve been manifesting this for some time. Not exactly this situation, but you had actively been looking for a partner, a female partner at that. You didn’t want anything serious, shoutout to Ms. Takeshi though, she was trying at least. 

“I like you Rumi-san and I considered this as a date! And.. and I want to go on more dates with you!” you nearly yelled, causing some heads to turn. This had caused Rumi to gasp, scrambling out of her chair to sit beside you and engulf you in her arms, nuzzling her soft cheek against yours. 

“You’re so cute! I swear! Let me take you home! I just wanna eat you!” she gushed, uncaring of the peering eyes in the restaurant who had been watching the whole exchange. “R-Rumi-san! How lewd!” you grimaced. sure was a handful. 

“I’m sorry, cutie! I just can’t help it! You make me wanna go feral” she growled the last bit, feeling a coil in your lower tummy tighten. What was she doing to you? Did someone hit you with a quirk? This was crazy! 

“Hey, don’t think too much about it. You and I are going to get to know each other better okay? Okay, carrot?” She grinned, peeking down at your flustered expression. This was going to be something else. 

___

Lately, you and Rumi have gotten closer. You both had started to frequently text and call each other, though you have been a little timid during phone calls. They were mostly carried by Rumi and her extroverted personality. You hope she knew that you were just shy and that you weren’t losing interest in her. 

Your relationship with Rumi had no label, at least for now. You both decided that it would be wise to learn about each other before making rash decisions. Especially you. You had a habit of running off in tandem and making yourself worry about scenarios that have zero percent of happening. Good thing Rumi was there to calm your nerves.

You were so immersed in your thoughts that you had failed to notice the stop sign in front of you, promptly running into it and talking on your butt. Luckily, nobody except a small child had seen you embarrass yourself. That’s what you thought at least, until—

“Baby carrot! Are you alright?! My poor little carrot didn’t see the stop sign! Are you okay? Do you need to be taken to the hospital? I can take you!” She rambled as she checked your body for any extensive injuries, sliding her hands down the curve of your ass in the process. You didn’t wanna go to the hospital as you would be an unnecessary burden to all the medical staff. It was still better to be safe than sorry. 

She was a different breed. 

“I can’t help it, I just.. I care about you” she murmured, facing off to the side to hide her warming cheeks from your view. She was adorable! Is this what she felt when she saw you blush? It was a nice feeling. Like eating really good food. Rumi blushing was good food. 

“Well, um, if you don't wanna go to the hospital, do you just want to come over for dinner or something?” she offered. “Aren’t you patrolling right now Rumi-san? I would hate to impose and possibly get you in trouble with your work” you sheepishly looked away from her gaze, unable to compete with the intensity her eyes hold, as if she wasn't a quivering little mess two seconds ago as well. 

“Nah. I can get someone to cover for me. Let me call them right now so that I can put your mind at ease yeah?” she detached herself from you and went to grab her phone strapped on the side of her somewhat revealing hero costume. You never really noticed it but Rumi’s costume was, how do you say this, very sexy. At least to you. 

You shook your head as dirty thoughts soon started to fill your head. This was wrong! Rumi-san is a strong beautiful woman who shouldn’t be objectified! She does not deserve that! Though she looked very beautiful in it, that was for sure. 

As you continued to have another internal battle with yourself, Rumi had already dialled Hawks’ number. 

“Yo Hawks! It's Mirko! I need a favour!”

“What is it?”

“Please cover for me. I’m on patrol and I just asked my crush out for dinner at my place but she’s iffy because she doesn’t want me to get in trouble for ditching my patrol--”

“You are ditching your patrol though” he replied. Rumi can already see Hawks using this against her. 

“PLEASE! She’s so beautiful and I like her so much” Rumi practically begged.

“Fine, but I’m doing this because you’ve never seemed so serious for anyone before and I’m happy for you. You don’t have to owe me” he sighed, but Rumi knew that he didn’t mind at all. 

“Thank you so much! Bye! Muah!” she yelled, before facing you. “Hey little carrot, you can come over! I told you my friend was gonna cover me” she smiled, her shiny teeth showing. “I-I..let’s go!” you blushed, wanting to be able to hide your cheeks from her. 

“H-Hey, slow down! Plus I haven’t got any ingredients! We gotta go shopping first!” 

“S-shopping? Together? That’s quite domestic” 

“Better get used to it”

___

“Are you allergic to anything my little carrot?” she questioned, wanting to know which ingredients she should take. “Ah! I’m allergic to shellfish” you mentioned. “I get hives and sometimes my throat closes up”. You stressed that your allergy wasn’t a big deal, but Rumi thought otherwise. “Hm, no seafood then” she pondered on what to get next. “How about pasta?” 

“Oh-I still eat shellfish, but just not often” you spoke, hoping she would overlook this small thing. “That’s not good carrot! You can die like that!” she yelled, catching the attention of most of the customers within the vicinity. “R-Rum-san! Not so loud!” you mumbled, tugging onto the fabric of her hero costume. “I’m okay Rumi-san! I promise!” 

Her concern for you was adorable. Nobody had ever really cared for you like this. You knew your limits and everything, and everyone knew as well, but it was a nice change. The way Rumi cared for you gave your tummy butterflies. Her smile, the way she spoke. You might be in love. For sure, it’s too soon to tell. You’ve also never felt love other than familial love or love for your friends, but you were sure this was love. 

You haven't known Rumi for a long time, but love isn’t about the time you spend, it’s the experiences you both share. If you could describe the way you felt in a word, it would be love. The way Rumi plagued your mind 24/7, the way you felt your heartbeat a little harder than it usually does. This felt like love. Of course, you weren’t about to tell her, but you already had a love for her from the beginning. It had just grown into something more than idolization for her the more you got to know her. Loving Rumi gave you absolute euphoria. Even if her feelings for you were platonic. 

“Hey, baby carrot? Let’s go?” she asked, already pulling you towards the exit of the store, waving at some fans who had called out her name. 

You were still lost in thought. You never understood why she was attracted to you, it wasn’t love, but even her attraction was questionable. To you, it seemed like a whole joke. The fact that your idol even offered to cook for you was baffling, not even that, the fact that she even spoke to you was a miracle itself. You felt tears well up in your eyes. There was just no way that Rumi would actually like you. 

Too lost in your head, you bumped into Rumi who had suddenly stopped, though she wasn’t facing you. She tightened her grip on your hand “I can smell your tears, why are you crying Y/n?” she whispered before whipping around to face you. Her face was riddled with sadness, her ears flopping down at the sides of her face. “D-Did I do something?” she stuttered. She loosened her grip on your hand, letting go completely. 

You felt your heartthrob in your chest. That was the exact opposite! You were crying because you were happy with her, too happy almost. You never wanted it to end. You sobbed a little harder before running to her, burying your face into her chest. Her arms wrapped around you, rubbing your back and pressing soft kisses on the crown of your head.

“I’m sorry! I’m a crybaby! I was crying because spending time with you made me happy! Very happy! I don’t want it to stop! I wanna stay with you forever Rumi-san!” you cried, hugging her tighter as if she was about to evaporate into thin air and never come back. “Baby... I...Can I kiss you?” she whispered, bringing her warm hand to rest upon your tear-stained cheek.  

Your eyes widened. Did she want to kiss you? Well, who were you to deny her? You nodded your head and shut your eyes, feeling the press of her lips against yours. She pressed multiple kisses against your lip before swiping her tongue against your bottom lip, causing you to let out a soft whimper at the contact. 

She grinned and did it once more, this time letting go of the groceries in her hand before pressing you into the bricked walls of the alleyway. Rumi had her hand on your hip and the other against your cheek, your arms wrapped around her and tangled in her soft, silky hair. You moaned as she pried her way into your mouth, exploring it with her tongue before you let out a whine that caught her attention. 

She pulled away to see the work she had done, she had left you flustered and fucked out, just from a kiss. She leaned over to press another soft kiss onto your lips before slowly pulling away again. “I like you, so please believe me when I say so. I want to have more good memories with you. Don’t cry okay? You have me, and I’ll never let go” she whispered before rubbing her nose against yours.  

You giggled as she pulled away, almost surprising her. It was stupid of you to think so negatively. You knew that Rumi would never do anything to hurt you, well, not on purpose at least. You nodded before picking up the groceries on the floor. You smiled. “Let’s go home, Rumi-san”

Her eyes sparkled at the fact that you had called her apartment “home”. She quickly nodded before helping you with the bags, opting to hold all with her one hand so that she could use the other to hold yours. 

___

“We’re finally here!” yelled, making her way to the kitchen to drop off the groceries, you took off your shoes before entering and following her. Her apartment was pretty luxurious. It was one of those gated places that needed I.D and permission to enter, in other words, it was high end. It was to be expected honestly, she was a very famous hero who had some very..determined fans.

Her apartment was mostly white, it didn’t have that many decorations, mostly since Rumi was quite a simple person who had no desire for such things. She did have matching furniture though. You walked through the living room, taking a moment to gaze at her white and grey furniture. It all matched! She had a knack for interior design. If she wasn’t a pro, she would have made some money off being an interior designer.

You finally made your way into the kitchen. Seeing Rumi already putting the groceries away, setting out the ingredients. You gaped at the various ingredients laid out on the counter, why hadn’t you noticed the number of ingredients she had picked up?! There were quite a few.

“Rumi-san? Why’d you get so many ingredients?” you queried, tilting your head to the side in confusion. “Cuz! We’re gonna make a lot of food!” she cheered, raising her fist that was currently holding a pork bun, slightly squishing it and slightly deforming it. 

“R-Rumi-san the pork bun!”

“Oh, haha! Sorry about that baby carrot” she apologized before splitting it in half and pressing it against your lips. Did she want to share? A-And feed you as well? You couldn’t refuse so you shyly took a bite, taking a small piece of the pork bun in your mouth and chewing. You moaned at the wonderful flavours dancing on your tastebuds, this tasted so good! It was still quite warm as well. 

As the both of you continued to stand in eat in the kitchen, neither of you noticed a familiar flying birdman hovering above the balcony, peering at the both of you with a happy smile on his face before flying away. 

“She’s lucky she has me as her friend” Hawks laughed as he continued his patrol. Hopping off of the balcony and flying away like a little weird fairy man. 

___

You both had finished cooking, there was a surprising amount of dishes you two had made. Your meal consisted of a wide but healthy assortment of dishes. It was no surprise that Rumi cared about what she was putting inside her body. 

“Come on baby carrot, let's go eat yeah?” 

You nodded and brought as many plates as you could to the counter, pulling up a chair while Rumi took a chair to sit beside you, promptly digging into her food. “This is so yummy! Where did you learn how to cook like this? I’m not a bad cook myself--” that much was obvious, “-but you cook well carrot!” she gushed, quickly swallowing the food in her mouth. 

“Ah-you're giving me too much credit Rumi-san!” you cried. Your cooking was mediocre at best and she was likely just gassing you to make you feel better. You were unsure of why she was hyping you up, though, you weren’t going to question it. Your mind suddenly drifted back to the kiss you both shared, heat rising onto your cheeks. 

You slapped your cheeks, trying to get any indecent thoughts to exit your head. This caused Rumi to laugh and take another bite of her food, used to your unusual behaviour already. You blushed, though this time, you were less embarrassed than usual. If she had already liked you after knowing you were weird, then why hold back?

“Hey baby carrot, why do you call me Rumi-san? It just seems a little too formal.. and I wanted us to be a little closer than that? I mean, I have a nickname for you” 

This wasn’t the first time that you had thought of giving her a nickname. You were nervous as to what she would say about it. Would she think it was stupid? Would she hate it? Would she make fun of you for it? Of course not, but your thoughts were going a mile a minute and you didn’t have any time to filter them out. 

“I’ll think of one for you, but please give me some time to do so!” 

“Of course baby carrot” she replied before quickly getting back to eating as she motioned for you to do the same. 

The both of you had just finished eating, already washing the remaining dirty dishes, including the pots and pad you had both used to cook. It was quite a domestic and intimate sight. Both of you, side by side. Both washing the dishes. and the other drying. 

As of right now. You were in complete and utter bliss. You’ve had a taste of euphoria and that was Rumi. It was amazing how one person could affect another so much. 

“Hey, it’s getting late. Do you wanna sleep here?” She piled up. Drying a plate before placing it on the dish rack. Meanwhile. Your mind was once again in distress. Why was she so casual about these types of things? Of course, you wanted to sleep beside her, and cuddle close to her, and gee her soft skin brush against yours, and—you get the idea. 

You were a bit hesitant as you didn’t want to overstay your welcome or burden her even further. No matter what she said, you knew that a hero wouldn’t be able to drop their patrol just on the dot. She broke the rules and you knew it. You didn’t want her to be making reckless decisions just because of you! 

“I-I... Am I already overstaying my welcome,” you asked, trying to make sure she wanted this and that she didn’t feel obligated to let you stay for whatever reason? You just wanted a good reason for you to be here. 

“It’s late. I would walk you home to ensure your safety, but right now, there’s a lot of villains lurking and to be honest, I’m not sure if I can take them all while protecting you at the same time” 

She wasn’t lying. If it was just her. For sure she’d be able to go all out and defeat as many villains as she could. She was in the top fen for heaven’s sake! She was just afraid that you’d get caught in the crossfire and end up injured, kidnapped, or worse, dead. 

“Oh.. okay” you mumbled, finishing up washing the dishes. Right now. You were unsure of what to do, she was still unfinished with drying the dishes and had suggested you slept over. Sure you trusted her, but, were you ready to sleep beside her? Were you ready to let her head you snore? Were you ready to let her see your horrible bedhead in the morning? Quite frankly, you were unsure if you were ready at all. 

“But if you want to, I can take you home, it’s your choice. I’ll gladly defend you and protect you carrot” she had quite the facial expression. You could tell that she was determined. Her sheer determination was held in her eyes, her lips pulled up in a smirk and her eyebrows furrowed. 

“I don’t want to be more of an inconvenience, so I’ll just choose the less inconvenient option. I’ll sleep here tonight but I’m taking the couch” you announced. She was going to take it or leave it! You were not going to go into her private space and make her share her rooms and bed. 

“Fine. But. Please feel free to move inside if you’re uncomfortable. I know that couch seems like a good couch to sleep one, but it’s only good for sitting really. More like decoration if you were going, to be honest. 

“Fine, but I promise that I won’t!” you stubbornly added. Wanting to make sure that she understood that you weren’t going to sleep beside her. You were fine sleeping on the couch and she had to understand that! She smiled before giving you a change of clothes, some pillows and blankets, including a spare toothbrush. 

“I’ll be in my room okay? Goodnight carrot” she bid you goodnight before entering her room, not fully shutting it. You fixed up the couch before making your way into the bathroom, passing by Rumi’s bedroom and seeing her shadow move around as her door was left ajar. You changed your clothes and cleaned up, getting ready to take your place on the couch. 

You charged your phone and closed your eyes, waiting to drift off into sleep. 

___

You screamed as you were being chased by a villain, it was in the early hours of the morning, you could tell as the sun was coming up and it just had that morning vibe. You were used to getting up this early and were familiar with it. What you failed to comprehend was why a villain was chasing you? 

It seemed as if it was only about five a.m or six a.m at the latest, but surely by now, there would have been cars driving around. You peeked behind you and saw that the villain had caught up, as he was about to grab you, you suddenly fell off a cliff, your stomach-dropping, your voice stuck in your throat before letting out a shriek and waking up in a cold sweat. What type of dream was that?

“Baby carrot! Are you alright?” said a worried Rumi who already had a glass of water at your side. You tried to take the cup from her but she noticed how shaky your hands were and decided that it would be best to help you drink herself. You slowly gulped down the water, not wanting to choke. You were heaving for air after drinking, maybe you didn’t slow down as much as you had needed to. 

“I-I had a bad dream! I was being chased by a villain and I was all alone! Then when he was about to catch me, I fell off of a cliff!” you explained, recalling the haunting images of the unknown man who had almost caught you. Rumi wrapped her arms around you and had placed you onto her lap, patting your head and rubbing your hands to comfort you. 

“How about you sleep in my room and I sleep here? Are you comfortable with that?” she whispered, not wanting to startle you while in such a vulnerable state. 

“No.. please stay beside me bun. I wanna sleep beside you if that’s all right” you blushed, averting her gaze as you were embarrassed to have mentioned the nickname you had been thinking about for her. It was something you had been thinking about and whilst being cliche, it still suited her quite well. 

“B-Bun? That's such a cute nickname! A little cliche, but still cute! I love it so much and I’m so happy that my cute little carrot thought of it for me!” she gushed, holding you even tighter against your body, almost squeezing the life out of you. 

“I’m glad you like it bun”

“I do carrot. Let’s go to bed now yeah?” she offered, placing your figure down on the couch before straightening herself out and standing up, stretching her arm your in your direction, asking you to take it. You gladly placed your hand in hers, pushing yourself up and sticking beside her as you both made your way to the bed. 

Rumi let go of your hand and made herself comfortable on the bed, making space for you as she moved the large and fluffy comforter and patted the spot, beckoning you to come to take your place beside her. You reluctantly sat on the bed before fully laying flat on your back, awkward and unmoving as you felt Rumi’s eyes on your still figure. 

“You can turn on your side and face me y’ know” she piped up. 

“I’m nervous” you admitted, not wanting to gaze into her eyes. 

Rumi laughed before placing her hand on your cheek, coercing you into facing her direction. You hesitantly obliged and turned your whole body to face her, still avoiding her piercing eyes. She laughed once more before inching her face closer to yours, both of your lips just an inch away from each other. 

“Don’t be a nervous baby carrot, it’s only me” she reassured, stroking the chub of your cheek while you relished in the feeling of the soft pads of her fingers stroking your face. You placed your hand on top of Rumi’s, pressing your face even harder against her palm. Rubbing your cheek against her warm hand. 

“Can I kiss you bun? I wanna kiss you so badly” you softly whined, feeling yourself in the hands of Rumi. Instead of replying she decided to just press her lips against yours, moaning at the feeling of your soft plush lips. 

“Baby carrot” she whimpered, pulling you impossible closer to her, your chests and thighs pressed against each other. You felt arousal consume your whole body, a tight coil forming in your stomach. You whimpered needlessly as Rumi sucked your tongue while wrapping your leg around her hip, placing her hand on the curve of your ass. 

You continued to whine and moan as Rumi caressed your body, her tongue pulling you in and leaving you in a trance. You pulled away, feeling yourself get lost in Rumi herself. 

“If we continued any longer, I would’ve passed out for sure” you sighed, pressing soft kisses on her lips and moving to scatter kisses on her cheeks. She closed her eyes, relishing in the pleasure of you peppering her face with soft kisses. “That’s okay baby carrot, we’ll take it to slow okay?” she took her turn at peppering your cheeks with kisses, making sure to kiss each untouched spot. 

“I like you” you confessed, this time using the courage that had magically shown up to your advantage. You swiped the hair out of her face, wanting to see her. “I like you more,” she replied, kissing the tip of your nose. 

 ___

“Ah~ This is the life! Getting your hair braided by a cute girl while she feeds you!: she chortled, leaning back into your lap as you continued to braid small pieces of her hair while taking small breaks to grab the chopsticks and feed her. You enjoyed watching Rumi relax and eat. It was somewhat satisfying. 

“Don’t you have work today bun?” you asked, feeling much more comfortable than you were from before. After you had spent the night at her place, your relationship with her had only gotten stronger. You felt closer than ever and felt as if nothing could break the pair of you up.

“Nah baby carrot, this is a once in a lifetime thing us heroes call a ‘day off’” she joked, looking behind to face you. “But I’ll be busy this week okay? I don’t want you to worry so I’m just letting you know that I’ll be on the down-low”

It was quite upsetting to see your crush? Girlfriend? Partner? You didn’t even know what to call her. The both of you still hadn’t put a label on your relationship, not that it was a problem, but you wanted to know if she was in it for the long ride or if this was something casual. If it was something casual you would prefer to break it off. You didn’t appreciate sharing your significant other with anyone. 

“Okay bun, I’ll wait for you” you had just settled on something simple, though Rumi saw through your facade and saw that you were somewhat upset by her incoming absence. She just turned around and hugged you, hoping it would give you some type of comfort for your oncoming lonely days without her. 

___

It had been a week since you had seen or heard from Rumi. While she was away, you had busied yourself with tending to your garden, your customers, and practicing baking pastries. You had quite a lot to do. At the moment, you were currently picking some ripe strawberries as you were planning to make some strawberry shortcake, seeing as you had never properly tried it before. 

As you picked the last strawberry, you had noticed it was a mutated one. It was huge! It seemed like it was about three to four normal strawberries combined into one! It fits in the palm of your hand! While you were distracted, you failed to feel your phone vibrate in the pocket of your overalls. 

You made your way inside of your small home and placed the freshly picked basket of fruits on the counter and washed your hands in the sink. After drying your hands, you took your phone out to see a text from Rumi. 

From: bun<3

I’ll be coming home today. I miss you

7:24

Her text made your heart flutter. Even if it was simple, it still filled you with love and affection. Anything Rumi did was amazing in your eyes. It was quite pathetic really, but that’s what love did to people sometimes.  

You decided that this would be a good time to drop by and give her some love and affection with some food included. You smiled as you imagined the happy face that would be present on Rumi’s face when she saw you. She was for sure going to be happy!

You felt yourself starting to feel giddy. This was going to be a good day!

___

You were wrong, dead wrong. Going to Rumi’s house had been a horrible decision. 

You had decided that after closing up the shop, you would make your way to Rumi’s and bring her food. You wanted to show her how much you had missed her, but you mostly wanted to spend time with her. She was always around and made sure to check up on you and your shoot during her patrols. If she wasn’t in the area, she’d send one of her sidekicks in her place.

When you had gotten to Rumi’s place, she still wasn’t home, giving you time to set up a nice dinner for her before she had gotten home. You had prepared some fried rice along with stir-fried vegetables, knowing that she enjoyed a healthy balanced meal, especially after a hard mission. You smiled once again, you were excited to see her again. You just wanted to take her in your arms and love her the way you wanted to. She wasn’t aware, but you were completely and utterly in love with her.

As time went by, it became easier and easier to admit your feelings for Rumi to yourself. Before, you would blush and stutter at the thought of it, but now, you were able to say it to yourself, but sadly not to Rumi. Not yet, at least. 

You heard the front door slam open before hearing a familiar pair of feet stomp inside before hearing the door slam shut. You heard Rumi stomp her way to the kitchen, her brows furrowed and her eyes filled with anger. She didn’t even spare you a glance before placing her keys on the counter and making her way into the bedroom and slamming it shut. 

You sat down on the counter, hoping that she just needed time to relax before spending quality time with you. You waited, and you waited. It had already been an hour and the food had gone cold. The vegetables were cold and hard, as well as the rice. You decided to place everything in a counter before cleaning up. You knew that she was just upset and needed time for herself.

You made your way to the front door, making sure to shut all the necessary lights as it was already nearing midnight. You didn’t wanna upset her any further by overstaying your welcome. Usually, you would have asked to spend the night, but it didn’t seem like Rumi was in the mood for head pats and cuddles. 

You smacked your head with your palm, already putting on your shoes but you had stupidly forgotten about your phone which you had tossed on the couch when you had first arrived. You took off your shoes once more before stepping back into the living room, knowing how disrespectful it was to walk into someone's home with shoes on, especially dirty shoes. 

You made your way to the couch before picking up your phone, seeing two different texts from Rumi before she had gotten home. 

From: bun <3

I’m really upset, usually, I’d love for you to visit but I just want to be alone. I hope you understand. 

10:23

From: bun<3

We can go out tomorrow if you’d like? I miss you carrot

10:26

You were an idiot. An actual idiot. At that time, you were already setting the table as you had closed the shop at eight, having only two hours to cook Rumi a proper meal before her arrival. You should have just left her alone. Now she thinks that you ignored her texts and invited yourself into her home anyways.

You sighed before plopping your phone down on the cushion beside you, placing your arm over your eyes, wanting to just go home and sleep. You should probably make your way home now. It was already getting late. You sat up, making a move to get up off of the couch when Rumi’s bedroom door slammed shut. A pair of feet dragging down the hallway as she made herself known in the living room, standing barely two feet away from you. 

Your jaw was left hanging. You were unsure of what to say? Would she be upset? Would she kick you out? Before you could come up with any more anxiety-inducing thoughts, Rumi had chosen to interrupt you before you had gone any further. 

“Why’re you still here? I thought I made it clear that I wanted to be alone. Do you not know how to use your head?” she sassed, moving around the coffee table to walk towards the kitchen. While she was in the kitchen, you remained glued to the couch. Appalled at the words that had just exited her mouth. 

“I-I” you stuttered, unable to formulate a proper response under her piercing gaze from where she stood in the kitchen. 

“What? Are you just going to stutter and babble like a dumbass? I asked you if you could use your head or not. I’m not sure how clear I could have made this, but I did not want to see you today. I had a shitty mission and all I wanted to do was come home and relax. Instead, I come home to you, doing God knows what in the kitchen! Have you no boundaries? Can your pea-sized brain even comprehend boundaries?” she mocked, harsh words spouting from her mouth as if her mouth was a fountain of curses. “Fucking idiot” she mumbled under her breath. 

You wanted to cry. This time, you had a good reason. You hadn’t expected Rumi to be this upset with you. You had good intentions but you didn’t mean to overstep. You had only wanted to let her know that you had missed her. 

You nodded, opting to stare at your hands that were neatly folded in your lap instead of defending yourself. You probably deserved this anyways. It would be over soon, you just had to suck it up and tough it out. You did put yourself in this situation in the first place. 

“Nothing to say? You’re dumber than I thought” she hissed. 

“You’re going too far Rumi-san. I never intended to step over any boundaries. I was already here before you texted me because I wanted to make sure that you could easily relax when you got home. I wanted to cook for you and take care of you—“ you cried, your tears finally sliding down your cheeks “—I didn’t mean to overstep. But you insulting my intelligence and my mannerisms is too far. You’re being disrespectful and I don’t like that. Don’t take your anger out on me” you scolded, staring at her with such an intense and almost hateful gaze.

You could never hate Rumi, but the words she had spoken to you were something that you were going to remember for the rest of your life, you knew that this would haunt you forever and probably give you nightmares. 

Her face faltered. Your words had finally been processed in her head. Sometimes Rumi acted before thinking. It was one of her lesser traits but you grew to love it anyway. 

It was quite surprising how you were able to defend yourself without bursting into tears, probably because this was the one person whom you had never expected to blow upon you--to take their anger out on you. 

“If you never liked me, then why did you lead me on? What was the whole point of this? You wasted my time, and yours as well” You spat, finally allowing your tears to cascade down your cheeks. “You are a horrible person Usagiyama Rumi.” you spat with venom before taking the rest of your things and walking past her, stopping at the door to say “Delete my number”

You understood that you had done something wrong, but the fact that she had degraded you and insulted you was just immature. You wiped the tears off of your face, upset at the fact that she thought that was okay. Had she always thought this way? Was she just playing you? Your mind was just running amok and you didn’t have anyone to calm you down. 

Luckily, you had safely made it home, encountering no villains or criminals during your journey home. When you had gotten home, you had thrown yourself in bed, not even bothering to change your clothes or clean up. You cried yourself to sleep that night, your anxiety and insecurities weighing down on your shoulders. 

___

It had been a few days after your encounter with Rumi. You had muted her texts and calls, not having the heart to block her and fully eliminate her from your life just yet. You sighed once more, picking the rest of the carrots and taking them back inside to wash. It was almost time to open up the store. 

It had been quite a rough week, you spent most of your week crying, thus resulting in red puffy eyes. It still hurt to touch or rub them. You probably looked stupid, and it was probably noticed that you had been crying. 

You chose to wear glasses today, hoping that it would hide your tired and puffy eyes, not wanting your customers to worry about your wellbeing, especially Ms. Takeshi. She was quite old and you did not need her to worry about you as if you were one of her children, of course, you thought of her as a mom but you didn’t wanna burden her with your problems. 

Hopefully, today will be a better day for you and your fruits and vegetables. 

___

“She’s not answering me Keigo! I’m getting nervous!” Rumi whined, feeling slightly queasy.     

“She probably blocked you” he laughed, finding some amusement in his friend's pain. It was quite sadistic but this was Keigo we’re talking about. It wasn’t rare to see him finding amusement in fucked up things. It was just how he worked. 

“But my texts are still going in! I keep trying to apologize but she keeps ignoring me” she whined, flopping on her back and tossing her phone away from her. They were both currently on patrol, sitting atop of a building somewhere in the city. Both of them were currently situated on top of the building a few buildings away from your shop, your little building of establishment visible. 

“If you did that to me, ridiculed and degraded me, you would never hear from me again. I’m not surprised by her actions Rumi. She was a great girl and sorry to say it, but you fucked up. Real bad.” he continued, wanting his companion to realize how badly she had fucked up. 

“You don’t have to tell me okay?” she grumbled, starting to feel irritation seep into her veins while her supposed friend continued to bring up her mistakes. 

“Yeah, but you still gotta apologize anyways” he blew a piece of flyaway hair out of his face before continuing. “Why’d you do that anyway? Were you just leading her on or something? Cuz that’s mean” Keigo teased, adding more salt to her open wound. 

“I-I was frustrated. One of the younger heroes got killed. A bunch of civilians too. I felt so fucking useless. I was useless. I didn’t save anyone. I may have kicked ass, but that’s not what being a hero is all about. Being a hero is about saving as many lives as you can. I saved nobodies. I just wanted to be alone and I told her that, but I guess she didn’t see. When I saw her at my place, I just left her for a while. I didn’t talk to her--” she sighed. 

“Then I came out and she was just sitting on the couch. I don’t know what overcame me. I just lost it. What I did wasn’t right and I have to earn her forgiveness, but I’m not even sure she’ll let me. I hurt her so fucking bad Keigo” she sighed, placing her arm on her face, shielding herself from Keigo’s pitying gaze. 

Keigo tsked before getting up, shaking his head in disapproval. “I got a plan for you bunny girl, don’t worry about it. Just make sure that you have something nice planned for tomorrow, and dress nice too. Just leave it to me. I’ll help ya. Believe it.”

“Naruto?”

“Shut up”

___

As you were exiting the shop, you encountered a familiar winged hero, stopping at the magnificent sight of his wings. “Hawks?” you squinted, almost thinking you were dreaming, fast asleep on top of the counter in your shop. 

“Hey birdy, how are ya?” he greeted, stepping a little closer to you. 

“I’m okay. I’m sorry, I’m closing the shop right now but if you want anything, I can open it back up? They won’t be as fresh as it’s already late, but I can fix them up with my quirk!” you explained, already digging for the key in your pocket. 

“Nah baby I’m okay, don’t worry about me. I was just wondering if I could take you out? Maybe for coffee?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck. You blushed. What did he want with you? Was he playing with you? Was this a ploy to get you back with Rumi when you hadn’t even established a proper relationship with her?

“O-Okay, I don’t mind” you stuttered, blushing at the fact that he wanted to take you out. This still must have been a play, but this was still the Pro-Hero Hawks! This was an opportunity you couldn’t miss due to your stubborn and prideful personality!

“Come here baby bird, we’re flying” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist before taking off, launching the both of you into the air. You screamed as you both flew up, not used to flying. 

“Um… Hawks-san... Why did you want to talk? I’ve never spoken to me before” you started, clutching his arm a little harder as he weaved the both of you through the city. “I’ll talk at the coffee shop okay? I promise.” he smiled.

You nodded, not wanting to pry any further as you didn’t want to overstep your boundaries once more. 

___

“Look, Rumi misses you kid.” he started, scratching the back of his head, mussing up his already wind-swept hair. “I KNEW IT!” you cried, slamming your frappuccino that he oh so kindly bought for you on the table, startling Hawks and the few customers in the joint. 

“I know she’s sorry. I’ve seen her. She’s messed up right now. I know what she did was shitty but you gotta give her another chance kid.” he nearly begged, grasping at your hands. You scowled. How dare he? What did he know? 

”Is that supposed to make me pity her? She knows what she did. And, with all due respect, you shouldn't even be trying to apologize for her in the first place, Hawks-san” you seethed, letting go of his hands and balling yours into fists. You were irritated. 

”Look, I know how badly she fucked up. If it was me, I wouldn't even waste my time with her. But that's me, and this is you. I know you’re in love with her baby bird. Please don't give up on her just because of one fight. All couples fight and all couples are toxic in their own ways. You just have to communicate.” he smiled. 

”F-Fine! But… Please don't mention my feelings for her! That's just embarrassing!” you yelled, hiding your heating face into the palms of your hand. Hawks smiled again before getting up, beckoning for you to follow him. 

Hawks was quite surprised at your willingness to accompany him to meet Rumi. he expected you to be either hesitant or just reject his proposal and leave Rumi in the dust. He smiled once more, you had strong feelings for her, that was a guarantee. 

But, it was now or never. 

Hawks had flown the both of you on top of this building a few ways away from your shop. Your shop was actually visible from here! As Hawks set you down, he motioned for you to turn around, you obeyed, only to see Rumi standing there, holding a bouquet of white orchids. You recognized them as the ‘I’m sorry flowers’. You scoffed. Did she think you were going to be bought by flowers? 

Maybe. 

You felt your cheeks heating up at the sight of Rumi. She still wore her normal clothes, but for some reason, she looks even more attractive than she did before. Of course, she was attractive but it felt as if her attractiveness doubled. Or was that just because you haven’t seen her for some time? People did say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. 

Rumi approached you before trying to nudge the flowers in your hands. You reluctantly took them, not wanting to rub any more salt onto her wounds. You knew that what she had done was wrong and disrespectful, but you understood that sometimes people snapped. Anger was a human emotion, though she just didn't deal with it very well.  

“I’m sorry carrot. I disrespected you and called you names. I made fun of your intelligence even though you’re one of the smartest, prettiest, and most creative people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I know that I can’t make excuses, but I know what I can do is try my best to get you to forgive me and regain your trust” she softly spoke, staring lovingly into your eyes. 

You felt tears well up in your eyes. You knew she was sorry, but you still felt hurt by her words. She may have just said it out of anger and to hurt you, but it still hurt. There was the intention with her words. You knew and felt it. You knew that you would be able to forgive her but when things like this happened, it turned you off. 

Though, this case is special. You should’ve checked your phone and asked for permission to go inside her home in the first place. Your fault may not have been as serious or as severe as hers, but you weren’t going to let her shoulder all of the blame. 

You placed the flowers down on the floor, resulting in you worrying Rumi in the process. Were you going to leave? Did you not accept her apology? Did you hate her? Did you never want to see her again? Were you ever going to forgive her? Rumi could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears, anxiety bubbling up inside her. She was suddenly overcome with an urge to hurl. Before she could even gag, you had already thrown yourself in her arms, wrapping your arms around your neck whilst your legs did the same to her waist. 

“I accept your apology! I’m sorry too! I didn’t mean to ignore my texts! Please take me back! I love you so much bun bun!” you sobbed, grasping her even tighter, unaware of what you had just spoken. You heard Rumi let out a laugh of disbelief. 

She pulled away to gaze at your crying face, feeling herself fall even harder for the crybaby right in front of her. She smiled before slamming her lips against yours, quickly dipping her tongue inside of your mouth. Your eyes widened at the surprise kiss before you slowly melted into it, using your tongue to caress hers, pulling her in even further into you. 

As you and Rumi made out, Hawks stood there. He literally just stood there. “H-Hey Rumi! I thought you said I would be eating dinner with you guys” he tried to gain their attention, even sending some of his feathers to them, trying to separate them from each other. 

But, Rumi just shooed him away, leaving Hawks to sadly walk away. As Hawks flew off of the building, his one thought was ‘when will I meet my someone?’. He sighed and continued his flight home. He would meet his soulmate one day. That was for sure. 

“Rumi, do you love me back?” you asked, wanting to hear it come from her mouth. She smiled, caressing the soft skin of your cheeks. “I do carrot. I really do” she smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “Why did you choose to bring me up here though? We could have just gone to your apartment” you tilted your head, resulting in Rumi’s heart skipping a beat. 

“Well, I’ve actually known you for a while. There was a time where I was patrolling here and I saw you walking home, it was already late so I wanted to keep an eye out for you and make sure you were safe. I saw you reviving all the dead plants you passed by, even growing some berries on the shrubbery. I just thought you were so interesting, but I didn't want to be a stalker so I let you go. Then a few days later, I get thrown inside your shop. What a coincidence huh?” she laughed. 

“You’re such a simp bun” you teased, pinching her soft chubby cheeks. 

“Oh! That reminds me, I got you something!” she revealed a small box before handing it to you. It was quite heavy. You opened it, only to find out that it was a bunny! Rumi had gotten you a bunny! How ironic. You scooped it out of the box before placing the bunny in your arms, feeling your bottom lip tremble at the adorable site of the bunny. 

“Do you like it?” she queried, anxious to find out. 

“I love it! I’m gonna name them Hawks!”

“E-Eh? Why!? Why not after me? Hey! Wait! Don’t use your vines to escape! Answer me!” 

___

“Rumi! Where do I smash this in?” you asked, wondering where the hammer was. “Baby carrot, that’s a screw, you can’t use a hammer, we need a drill,” she informed you, carefully taking the hammer out of your dangerous hands. 

“Why’d I have to get such a big closet anyways” you grumbled, sitting on the ground with a pout, hating how useless you were right now. “Because you ran out of snack space. It’s okay. My dad taught me how to build stuff, also this is from IKEA so it’s easy to follow” she bragged, smirking at your sulking figure. 

“Can you hand me the door? We can attach it now. Don’t worry, we’re almost done baby, I promise” she smiled, ruffling the top of your hair. You grumbled about not liking her messing your hair up before reluctantly getting up to fetch the door for your lovely girlfriend. Has this door always been so big and heavy?

You squatted and wrapped your arms around the door, grunting as you tried to pick it up. You succeeded but lost your balance, your legs locking into place as you fell backwards, the door landing on top of you and smashing into your forehead. “HELP!” you cried as you were pinned under the door.

Rumi came running in, thinking you had hammered a nail through your own foot, only to find you on the floor, under a cabinet door. She snickered as your limbs wiggled. 

“I guess you can say you look… a-door-able HAHAHA!”

“Haha. Please help, my lungs are being crushed”

“OH SHIT”

© katsukisbimbo 2020 — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated. please be kind and enjoy!

[miyanom]

DEVILS PARADISE (part two)

MASTERLIST | JEAN KIRSTEIN X FEM!READER

synopsis: arriving in paradis, y/n slowly grows close to the devils she was taught to hate.

warnings: mentions of death, let me know if I need to add anything else!

notes: i feel like this chapter isn’t the best, but i wanted to write about y/n and jean a little and also write about y/n’s friendships with the people of Paradis before we head into trost arc.

word count: 2479

Shaky breaths fell from Y/N’s chapped lips as she held on tightly to Annie, keeping the unconscious girl from slipping off the Armoured Titan’s shoulder as he ran through the town beyond the wall.

Reiner had his hands raised to protect the others from the rubble of the gate as he crashed through, but as his hands moved to his sides once more, Y/N found her eyes widening.

Chaos. It was utter chaos.

Homes had been crushed from debris that went flying after the Colossal Titan kicked the gate, people had been crushed in attempts to escape, and mindless Titans were flooding into the city.

Y/N’s eyes continued to scan the area, only stopping as they fell onto a woman screaming for her husband who had been crushed beneath a Boulder.

With an arm still wrapped around Annie, Y/N used her other hand to pull them closer toward the armoured titan’s neck, fear coursing through her veins as the image of the crushed body weighed heavy in her mind.

The Marleyan’s words echoed through her head, reminding her of the sins of the Eldians; the sins that brought this destruction to them.

But Y/N couldn’t stop herself from questioning the things she had been taught as more screams filled the evening air.

Did they deserve it? Did they deserve it? Did they deserve it?

“Armin Arlert, from Shiganshina District, sir!” A blonde boy answered the training instructor.

If Y/N remembered correctly, it was Shiganshina that the warriors destroyed all those years ago. The day still weighed heavy on her heart, though she knew it was the only way.

What other choice did they have? If they were to go home to Marley without the Founding Titan, their terms would end prematurely.

“Yeah? That’s a stupid name. Your parents give you that?” Shadis questioned.

“My grandfather!”

“Arlert, what are you doing here?!”

“Trying to aid humanity’s victory!” Armin answered immediately.

When ordered to about face, Y/N’s eyes met Armin’s cerulean. Trying to aid humanity’s victory… humanity’s victory would only come when the devils were gone, that’s what Marley told them all.

The instructor passed by Y/N, barely sparing the girl even the smallest of glances as he moved down the row.

Jean Kirstein was the name Y/N heard as she tuned back into the initiation. His goal caused the girl to frown in distaste, and it took everything in her to not just roll her eyes.

To live a safe life in the interior, he had said.

The island devils truly were selfish, Y/N realised.

How could anyone hear about what happened in Shiganshina and choose to escape further into the walls? Do the devils not care about their own?

Would they rather save themselves than save the people they care for by ridding the world of Titans?

If Y/N were in their shoes, she knew what she would pick; the chance to save the people she cared about.

That’s why she was here, after all. It was why she went through the rigorous training of the warrior unit. All to make her family honorary Marleyans, to save them from the life of the Eldians.

She was here, pretending to be an island devil, pretending to be the thing she was taught to hate, all for her family.

The devils couldn’t say the same, they wanted to retreat further into the walls, into what they believed was safe.

If only they knew…

“Huh? You’re from Wall Maria, too?” Mina’s eyes widened slightly as she stared at Y/N, who sat across the table.

Y/N rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly as she nodded. It was a cover story the warriors had come up with a while ago, it made it easier for them to blend in when the survivors of Wall Maria found refuge in Wall Rose.

A family had unexpectedly taken Y/N in just a few months after the attack. It wasn’t Y/N’s idea to take them up on their offer, they were devils, after all.

But Reiner had urged her, he told her it could help them with their mission, that perhaps this family could provide more insight into life inside the walls.

He had been right.

The family helped Y/N understand what life was like for the devils of Paradis, though she’d never tell Reiner and the others just how much she had come to pity these people.

The family had lost their son when the armoured Titan broke through the inner gate, apparently he was a soldier in the Garrison.

Y/N spent nights upon nights thinking about that. Each night giving her more and more reasons to think that maybe the devils didn’t deserve what the warriors had been brought here to do.

That family had shown her kindness, a kindness she never saw from own mother. So maybe-

No. This is the only way, Y/N repeated to herself. This is the only way…

“Y/N?” Mina spoke up again, staring at her with concern painted across her visage. “Are you alright?”

“Ye.. yeah.” Y/N nodded, averting her gaze nervously. “I just- it’s not easy to think about what happened.”

It wasn’t necessarily a lie. Y/N hated thinking about the day she arrived inside the walls, whenever she remembered it, she remembered all those bodies she saw…

She remembered the screams and the blood, and the thought that maybe the Eldians were innocent and it was them who were the bad guys.

“That’s okay. I’m sorry for asking,” Mina let out a sigh, placing her hand over Y/N’s that rested on the table. “I’m-”

“It’s okay,” Y/N shook her head, quickly knocking Mina’s hand away as she stood up and grabbed her plate. “We should get going anyways, everyone’s cleaning up.”

As Y/N left the mess hall, she let out a frustrated sigh. No, that wasn’t suspicious at all…

Oddly enough, learning to use the odm gear the devils designed to kill Titans came fairly easy to Y/N. And before she knew it, they were moving onto hand-to-hand combat training.

When Y/N had been assigned to the mission to attack Paradis, she never expected she would join yet another military program. Not when the things they were learning for the first time here, were things she had known before she was even 10 years old.

“Go easy on the devils,” Reiner had warned them. “We don’t want suspicion to be drawn to us. Not now, we’re too close.”

Y/N hated to admit that he was right. Not about being close to the finish line, but about not wanting to draw suspicion to themselves.

But it was hard to remember his warning when she had been partnered with Jean Kirstein for training… She had known it on the day they met, and she knew it now, almost three years later.

Jean was a selfish, cocky bastard.

“Aw come on. You can do better than that.” His annoying laugh filled her ears as she quickly turned back to look at him, her eyes narrowing into a glare as her grip on the wooden knife tightened slightly. “By the time you take me down, I could’ve taken on at least eight people.”

“Yeah, why don’t you try testing that, Jean?” His name fell from her lips with venom as she chucked the knife in his direction, watching as he caught it with ease.

How much more annoying could he possibly get? Y/N asked herself.

Jean rolled his shoulders back in a stretch before getting into the correct stance, and within seconds, he was running at Y/N.

His eyes widened as the girl grabbed onto his arm, twisting herself around so her back was facing him as she kept pressure on his arm to keep the knife pointed away from her. This wasn’t a move they were taught by the trainers, he realised immediately.

He reached out for the knife with his other hand, though as soon as Y/N caught his movement, she kicked her left leg back, her foot slamming against his bottom calf causing his knee to buckle beneath him.

Putting all her strength into it, Y/N took advantage of Jean’s shaky footing, throwing him over her shoulder and watching as his back hit the dirt with a loud groan of pain falling from his lips.

With a smirk, she crouched down to pick up the knife, twirling it between her fingers as she glanced back at him.

He was still on the floor, staring up at her with wide eyes and a light blush painted across his cheeks. “Aw come on, Jean. You can do better than that,” she taunted.

Jean was ignoring her, Y/N realised as the trainees from the 104th settled down in the mess hall for dinner that night.

She didn’t blame him, she would be embarrassed too if she were in his shoes.

It wasn’t exactly his fault that she had been through this before, in a much harsher environment where the punishment for a failure like that was much worse than a simple comment made by their instructor.

Y/N rested her chin in the palm of her hand as her eyes scanned the dining hall, the sound of chatter filling the room. It wasn’t like this back in Marley, they would always eat in silence, in fear.

But in Paradis, those fears no longer weighed heavy on her shoulders. She no longer had to sleep with one eye open, terrified the Marleyans would decide to torch Liberio in the middle of the night.

She would never say it aloud, but maybe the devils were right to flee and hide here.

“-right, Y/N?” Christa’s voice snapped Y/N out of her thoughts, causing her to quickly turn around.

“Huh?”

“There she goes drifting off again,” Ymir commented, her arms crossed as she stared at Y/N. “With an attitude like that, you’ll become Titan chow the second you step outside these walls.”

Christa had quickly become Y/N’s friend within the first year of training, now that they were coming close to the end of the third and final year, Y/N realised that she had practically been inseparable from Ymir and Christa during training.

Maybe she had followed Reiner’s orders too quickly, he told them to blend in with the devils. Or maybe she had found peace within the unexpected kindness… it was wrong, that’s all she really knew.

She wasn’t supposed to be getting along with the island devils, she wasn’t supposed to call them her friends and wish they would be far away from Trost when the warriors plan comes to fruition.

But they were kind, they weren’t anything like how Marley described them to be.

A conflicted feeling settled in Y/N’s stomach once more as she averted her gaze, no longer able to look Christa and Ymir in the eyes without remembering what was to happen.

They didn’t deserve it, they didn’t deserve it.

Or did they? Their ancestors had committed atrocities against the entire world, after all.

But that was their ancestors, not them. Christa, Ymir, Mina, the family that had taken her in when they found out she was a so-called orphan from Wall Maria… they didn’t do what the Eldians of the past had done, they didn’t kill anyone, did they really deserve to pay for crimes they didn’t know about?

Y/N was snapped out of her thoughts once more as Ymir waved a hand in front of her face. “Sorry,” Y/N muttered, glancing at the girls who sat at the table with her.

Christa stared back with a look of concern, while Ymir seemed to not care that much at all.

“Anyways,” Ymir looked back at Christa. “I was just telling Christa here all about the tension between you and that cocky bastard when you knocked him on his ass in training today.” The girl seemed to smirk slightly as her eyes flickered back to Y/N. “I didn’t realise blockhead two had a crush on-”

“And I was telling Ymir that it’s not like that. You would’ve told me, right, Y/N?” Christa asked, looking back and forth between her and Ymir as she awaited an answer.

Y/N couldn’t tell how Ymir had come to the conclusion that she and Jean were crushing on each other, not when they had nothing but bicker constantly. Maybe almost as much as Eren and Jean did, and everyone knew how bad that was.

“It’s not like that,” Y/N confirmed, beginning to pick at her breadroll. “He was being his usual annoying self, and I put him in his place.”

“Yeah, well, looked like he enjoys being put in his place,” Ymir teased. “If you know what I-”

“Ymir!” Christa squeaked out, staring at the taller girl with wide eyes. “You’re going to embarrass them.”

I can’t like Jean, or anybody for that matter, Y/N wished she could tell them.

How could she let herself fall for an island devil? It would be enough to get her killed when she returns to Marley. Retrieving the Founding Titan wouldn’t make up for the sin of loving a devil.

No, befriending them for the sake of the mission was one thing, but loving them?

And Jean of all people? She would never love him. Even if he was from Marley and she was allowed to fall for him, she wouldn’t.

“An easy life, deep inside the walls?” Eren spoke up, his eyes narrowed in Jean’s direction.

The tone of his voice was enough to break Y/N out of her thoughts as she realised the boys would undoubtedly get into another fight.

Her eyes flickered toward Reiner, a frown tugging at her lips. It reminded her too much of how Porco was always fighting Reiner back in Marley.

“Until five years ago, this was considered deep inside the walls,” Eren continued.

“What’s your point, Eren?” Jean crossed his arms.

“You don’t need to go to the interior.” Eren placed his cup on the table. “You’ve gone soft enough in your own head, Jean.”

Y/N hid her smile by resting her head in the palm of her head, though her smile faltered for a moment when her eyes met Jean’s, who had turned to look in her direction.

As Jean turned back toward Eren, the boy began speaking again. “Don’t you think it’s strange that we’re training to fight Titans, just to end up farther away from them?”

“Who cares? For my own sake, I hope they keep this stupid system,” Jean told him.

Right, the island devils were selfish people.

And Y/N was definitely not going to fall for Jean Kirstein. Not in a million years.

[ecto-american]

Hello there! I forgot if I asked this before (my apologies if I did, I don't mean to rush you, take all the time you need), but I was wondering if you were able to possibly continue of have a part two for that one request where Star stumbled upon Sam and Danny playing bowling. I really enjoyed it, and would love to see more. Thanks!

I take prompts within reason but literally never expect me to write it within any reasonable amount of time because ho boy

The first part mentioned in the post

But why Sam? Out of all girls in town? Well, ghosts were spooky, makes sense that they’d attach themselves to goths like moths to a light. Did that mean the ghost boy hung out with a lot of local goths? No...surely at least one of them would have spilled the beans. 

Star stared off into nothing as she thought, only-half listening to her boyfriend’s commentary on the game. While she wasn’t looking at anything in particular, the popular teen couldn’t help but let her gaze fall into the loser trio’s direction. They were a few lanes down from them, bowling. Why they were in public being losers was beyond her. Especially knowing that Sam’s basement had a bowling alley.

Danny bowled, and he did an excited jump, saying something to the other losers. He had gotten a strike. This was his third one. Valerie had told her he was good at bowling, but she didn’t really ever think much about it. Her cousin was sulking, as normal for her weird, goth self. Sam glanced in her direction, and they met eyes. Star looked away to stare at her own game. Paulina was up, and as normal, she wasn’t a very good bowler. She got a gutter and was complaining to Dash about it.

Star lightly sipped a milkshake to avoid needing to reply, until Kwan finally snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Hey, Starlight? You okay?” he questioned. She glanced at him, and she shrugged.

“Just lost in thought,” she replied honestly. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Kwan was always such a sweetie, and Star couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s just some weird family stuff I can’t quite figure out,” she confessed. It was Kwan’s turn to steal a glance at the loser trio.

“Something happen with Sam?” he asked quietly. Kwan was the only one who knew the cousin connection, and he only knew because her parents had accidentally told him. If anybody besides Kwan, who for some reason really liked Sam, knew that she was cousins with that goth freak, her social life would be over. 

“...Sorta.” Star went back to watching them. The three had seemingly completely stopped their game, instead exchanging looks to each other.

And suddenly, they completely abandoned their game.

She didn’t even hide her confusion as she watched them simply...leave. As a group, with their game not even half over and leaving behind nothing, still in their bowling shoes, collectively going towards the back door. Where were they going? They had to be coming back, Sam would have never dared to leave her favorite pair of boots behind. 

Kwan noticed too.

“What’s up with them?” he asked. 

“I have no idea,” she mused. She stood up. “I’m going to go see. Just bowl for me if you want, or Dash can.”

“Gotcha!” Kwan nodded. “Let me know if you need help.”

“I can handle a goth,” Star lightly joked, smiling as she began to make her way towards them.

Sam was the last in line to exit out the back door, but she had seen Star coming for her, and she paused. She turned to her friends, saying something Star couldn’t make out before shutting the door on them. Sam turned to stare at Star as she approached, frowning.

“What the fuck is with you?” Sam demanded to know the second Star was close enough. “You’ve been super weird since Saturday. You actually texted me. You never text me.”

“Well yeah,” Star scoffed, crossing her arms. “I saw you and Phantom bowling together, and now you’re here? Bowling again?”

“Will you stop that?” Sam grumbled. Her hands went to her hips. “I was home alone all Saturday until you and Aunt Rene showed up. Nothing happened. Stop spreading false rumors just because you need a popularity boost in your prep crowd.”

“I don’t need anything from you,” Star replied. “Besides the truth I mean. Something’s going on. I wanna know what it is.” 

“Nothing’s going on,” Sam argued. “Why are you so hung up on this?”

“Because I know I saw something! I heard something!” Star insisted. She jumped, and Sam flinched as a loud crashing noise came from above. 

Star jerked her head to the ceiling, but saw nothing. She glanced at Sam, seeing her cousin stare worriedly above. It was obviously ghosts, any Amity Park resident could tell you that much. 

...Is that why Sam and her friends were eager to go? To see the ghosts? How did they know that there was a ghost fight going on before anybody else? That had to mean that her weird loser friends knew Phantom too. But Fenton’s parents hunted ghosts, didn’t they? They were the weirdos in town that wore jumpsuits everywhere. Maybe they had a tracker device? 

“We should leave,” Star spoke up. “Ghosts are dangerous.” She could have sworn that she saw Sam roll her eyes.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Sam just seemed to brush off the danger. There were hard thuds on the ceiling, making the room shake, and Star flinched. 

“That doesn’t sound fine,” Star frowned. 

Sam opened her mouth to reply, only for the ceiling to completely collapse as a ghost rammed inside. Star flew back a few feet from the impact, doing a roll as she was only stopped by the railing that separated the main floor from the bowling lanes. All the lights had gone out, and she could hear people scrambling for the exit. 

She looked up to see a full black ghost with its hands around Phantom’s neck, pressing him into the ground. Phantom kicked the ghost off, blasting him with some kind of green energy she had seen him use several times before the ghost screeched in pain, letting go of him and slithering off into the darkness of the bowling alley. 

“Are you okay?” Phantom’s voice asked, and Star immediately panicked. Sam.

She rushed over to see Phantom phasing Sam out from under some rubble, moving her away a few feet behind the bowling shoes counter. Star fell to her knees next to them. Sam looked dirty and had a few immediate scraps and bruises that began to form. Her foot was the worst. She couldn’t tell so much in the dark, but Star knew something was off. 

“I got her,” Star assured the ghost. He looked at her, almost...quizzingly. “She’s my cousin, I’ll ride with her to the hospital and call Aunt Pam.” 

Phantom blinked in absolute awe, glancing between her and the goth with disbelief. Well, it probably was kind of hard to believe. They were nothing alike. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. Why was he so hung up on that? 

“Wait, what?” 

Sam scowled, grabbing Phantom by the collar and yanking him to her.

“Danny, go stop the damn ghost already!” she snapped at him. Danny? Oh, right. Danny Phantom. So weird that Fenton and Phantom shared a name. Well, Danny wasn’t that uncommon. They had several Dannys in their grade. 

Phantom broke out of his stupor, and he nodded. He took her hand off him, and he lightly squeezed it. Like they knew each other. It was subtle, but Star saw the touch and that brief look of intimate concern for her. 

“Get out,” he spoke to Star, and he soon jumped over the counter, and back into the action.

Star watched his leap, before she returned to Sam. With Phantom gone, Sam seemed to finally break a little. She had tears in her eyes now, and she gave a hard sniffle as she tried to not openly cry. Family rivalry was brushed aside, and Star leaned in to hug her. Surprisingly, one of Sam’s arms wrapped around her in a light hug back.

“Come on,” Star said quietly. She let go, and she got to her knees, staying squatted next to her cousin. Sam stared at her, lip quivering.

“I’m not going to be able to walk,” she complained quietly. 

Another glance at the injury, and well, yeah. No way Sam was walking on that kind of a twisted ankle. 

“It’s okay,” Star soothed. “I’ll help.”

Star glanced around, seeing the ghost fight finally be taken out of the bowling alley and back outside. The emergency exit they were by before was completely blocked, and several lanes had been torn up. But at least it was ghost-free from the immediate looks of it. 

She sighed with relief, standing up before holding her hands out to Sam. She pulled Sam to her foot, quickly shifting as they put their arms around each other’s shoulder. Sam leaned into her, and Star wrapped her arm around her waist, and they began to slowly make their way out, staying hugged along the wall. 

“Star! Sam!” The girls snapped their head towards Kwan, who had rushed up to them. He looked a bit disheveled, mostly dirty more than anything else, and he was glancing at them, concerned. “Are you guys hurt?” 

“Sam hurt her ankle pretty bad,” Star explained. Kwan glanced down, and he paled a bit. 

“It looks bad,” he replied bluntly. Star glanced down, seeing the injury truly in better light. Kwan was right. It did look bad. She didn’t realize until now that Sam was actually bleeding from her ankle too, and that the blood was on her cousin’s tights as well as some on Star’s pants. “Here, let me.”

Kwan shifted to pick Sam up bridal style, and Star immediately rushed for the door to open it for him. Kwan carried her with ease outside, where police cars were already pulling up. Star waved an officer down as he was exiting his car.

“We need an ambulance!” she called out. The officer just nodded, speaking into his radio as he came over.

“What’s the damage?” the officer asked. 

“My ankle,” Sam replied, lightly lifting up the injured foot in question. Now in the full bright light of the day, Star was absolutely sure that it was broken. The boot hid her foot, but it was at an odd angle that feet just didn’t bend at. 

“Come over here,” the officer instructed. He motioned for them to follow him as he took a few steps back towards a bench. “Set her down here.” 

Kwan did just that, with the officer’s help, putting Sam sitting down on the bench. Sam gave a small groan of pain as her foot brushed against the ground as she was transferred.

“Did you call your parents yet?” the officer asked. Sam shook her head no.

“I’ll call them,” Star promised. The officer nodded.

“Star, please call Grandma Ida,” Sam pleaded. Star glanced at her. “Mom’ll flip out.”

“I’ll see if I can reach Grandma first,” Star promised. She pulled her phone out, scrolling for her contact, and she rang up their grandma.

She answered, and Star quickly filled her in on the details, even though her mind was still thinking back to Sam and Phantom. Things were still way too weird. They way they looked at each other, Phantom’s reaction to the family connection. They knew each other. Star just knew it.

[urmomsstuntdouble]

writing prompts but they’re lyrics from my music library, part one

just because :)

Sixteen-twelve is the code to my heart

She hates time, make it stop

Your faith walks on broken glass

Tell me that you want me, that's the shit I always hear

They just use your mind, and they never give you credit

You know I'm born to lose, and gambling's for fools

That the day is in my sight when I'll take a bow and say goodnight

He made it clear he wasn't looking for a fight

We're not the ones who're meant to follow

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

And I'm not gonna live my life on one side of an ampersand

Your future dream has sure been seen through

Toying somewhere between love and abuse

I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

I want to run and hide

When I try to open up to you I get completely lost

I must confess I still believe 

You always struck me as the type to take it lightly

We only said goodbye with words

You're the same kind of bad as me

In beauty there echoes a speck of our source

One night, you won't forget the rest of your life

Even if I quit there's not a chance in hell I'd stop

Now when I walk the streets, Kings and Queens step aside

So this ain't the end, I saw you again

She says it's lack of sex that's bringing me down

You can't smell your own shit on your knees

You're a flashlight in a dark room or the loneliest black out

Home is where my habits have a habitat

You say God give me a choice

I'll try to give you love until the day you drop

I got the boat but not the lake

Why can't we be ourselves like we were yesterday?

Times are gone for honest men

Let's go fucking crazy

Tell me, how do I feel?

Splash the wine on every door!

You take me over, you're the magic in my veins

You're never gonna bring him back

Drive your son like a railroad spike

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

I like the pretty boys with the bow tie

Just prayin' to a God that I don't believe in

I don't mean to stare, we don't have to breed

I think I want your, your American tan

Don't you ever fear, I'm always near

I walk tha corner to tha rubble that used to be a library

We'll be raising our hands, shining up to the sky

Your kisses lift me higher

Lets get drunk forget what we did

Waiting for a nice young man who'll love me for my car

When you weren't there for me

It's the suede denim secret police

When you're ready we can share the wine

They're wearing plastic, not real leather

Lay your weary head to rest

And if you don't love me now you will never love me again

There's no turning back for us tonight

Been workin' rough, I've seen enough to make your stomach turn

Get down ladies, you've got nothin' to lose

You know, some people don't take no shit

I suddenly feel like a different person

Show the world that love is still alive

It cuts deep through our ground and makes us forget all common sense

And they don't make you like they used to

Come a little bit closer, you're my kind of man

And you're mine, and you look so divine

I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had

Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated?

In the fast lane, living life without knowing.

I'll probably get arrested for writing this song

When I met you I was fine with my nothing

Against my will I stand beside my own reflection

She knows how to rock and roll

Inheriting troubles, I'm mentally numb

What the hell am I doin' here?

I've done wrong and I wanna suffer for my sins

Just take my hand and we'll abandon this world

Someday we won't remember this

You must obey the dance commander

When there's nothing to lose and there's nothing to prove

And I will try hard to hold onto you with open arms

Sometimes they let strangers in and other times they check their records

Let me see the lines on your hand

Do you get nervous watching me bleed?

She's the kind of girl who only asks you over when its raining, just to make you lie there catching water dripping from the ceiling.

I’ll keep you my dirty little secret

Happiness hit her like a bullet in the back

Do you wanna get drunk and stay the night?

She had taken his hand (she had become like they are)

She's so full of guilt and shame

Can't fall, when I'm sleep, I'm chasing a dream

For a smile they can share the night

I wanna make a supersonic man out of you

But now I think it's time I lived my life on my own

He said "Time ceases it's marches at the golden archezzz and that's what we're here for."

He just smiled and gave me a Vegemite sandwich

I don't care what you think unless it is about me

Now I understand, you're a human, and you got to lie, you're a man

Shining through the city with a little funk and soul

Maybe I will go again tomorrow

Now I ain't educated but I sure ain't stupid

I tuck you in, warm within, keep you free from sin

Now I realize I'm not alone

It started with a whisper

It's my own remorse

I can't fit the feelings in

I ain't in it for the glory of anything at all

The good and the bad times: we've been through them all.

I can't stop changing all the time

Waiting for a girl and my feet are getting wet

I got stiffness in the bones

Am I coming out of left field?

These two sides of my brain need to have a meeting

I grew up in the shoes they told me I could fill

Man, living at home is such a drag

I spent my last dollar on thee

It's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep

Do you know that there's still a chance for you?

A lover would just complicate my plans

But all I do is quake to her

I pity the fool that falls in love with you

Like you know, you should know, but you don't know what you did

It's such a gorgeous sight to see you eat in the middle of the night

[kaetastic]

LINGERING EYES

pairing: Isaiah Jesus x Shelby!Reader

summary: The Peaky Blinders spend their night at a ball, however, Isaiah notices the wandering eyes of other men on the second youngest Shelby.

word count: 3.5k 

warning: slightly nsfw ?? jealousy, mention of blood, mention of violence, language

note: I loved writing this one! The flow was so smooth and I couldn’t stop writing, so here it is! I was hit with inspiration after checkin’ out some prompts (i saw them on pinterest so i don’t know who’s the original blog, if it’s you please dm me 🥺)

“Take my coat.” 

White— pearly beads of opal tears were poked through with a piercing needle. The bawling drops of clams drooped from the yellow ceiling, hanging low as gravity clung onto the strands. While shuffling of polished shoes screeched into the air, ear-drumming squeals from yanked corks paced to overlap obnoxious laughs. The laughs worthed grands; the laugh of slithering serpents.

Despite the approaching night, there was no heaviness resting upon the awaken eyes, which only led to the fact that they have tolerated and befriended the aspect of long nights. Long nights of claimed hard work. Long nights of staying at work late to complete the pending task, allegedly. Bitterly, the woman who strayed near the marble bar assumed, even though she knew she was right.

The lavish dress she wore that she plucked out of the most expensive rack in the store were no different than those women who were present. The women who had been dragged out from the comfort of their home to flutter a smile while they drowned in their husband’s gold, not knowing their mistress circled nearby. However, her privilege of wearing the fabric that was enough to feed a whole village was not the same as them. While it might not be her money, she knew that Thomas’s money was now as legitimate as the rest, despite the fluttering rumours weaving from mouth to ears.

Y/N grew up on streets that reeked of feculent piss and mud as face-paint. They, on the other hand, were nurtured by a maid, money already swimming in their bloodstreams while their parents spent days on end overseas.

‘You’re not a Peaky, Y/N.’ As the tornado in her champagne flute swirled, she glared at the red wine with irritated eyes. Despite her hating the proper way of holding the glass which was as posh as it could be, she reminded herself to where she was and who breathed in the same room as her. Recalling the talk she sat with her older sister who believed that the woman shouldn’t even bother to relieve her presence to the party, Y/N beamed her eyes at the smearing grey against the whites of the marble counter. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was the destiny the Shelby’s will be cursed by, but heartfelt conversations were rare. The woman needed to get it out of her chest. She needed to tell her older sister the lingering eyes when she would walk down the streets. The elderly knew of the tainted reputation of the Shelby’s name, the main theme of the conversations whispered behind their backs. ‘No, but I’m a Shelby.’

That’s what she’ll always be. Just a Shelby. Not the woman who struggled through the obstacles of maintaining a deaf ear to her colleagues who would whisper under their breaths about her and her background. No matter what curtain draped over her, she’ll be seen as the younger sister of a gangster. Gypsy Shelby. Carnival wanderers. Y/N, the woman who sipped on wine in the dress of the same colour, will forever be known as Birmingham’s Infamous Gangster’s Little Sister.

Y/N was no longer the giggling child who swam through mud; she was no longer the girl with dangling tooths who hid her older brothers’ socks under her bed. Even Arthur, the eldest, has admitted how times have changed. Sitting on the stool was a woman, not a girl. A woman with cold, crystal eyes of a smeared cerulean blue that can only be glistened at a certain angle of light, a woman who had been prize hung upon the fair’s walls for men who were up to the challenge- that was until they heard of her last name. Unless they were cowards, they tiptoed away with the utmost silent steps. It was barely a handful of men who found the challenge of swooning the woman to be entertaining.

However, to be in radar with the Peaky Blinders themselves; to be in their loyal, trusted ranks, Isaiah Jesus just couldn’t find a fuck to give. There had been countless times he had seen eyes grazing over her figure, ogling her as if a taunting piece of meat. Would he be different to their scandalous actions? No, because he would do the same. The man just had a more discreet manner of observation. People with a name and money to flaunt might’ve shoved him to the edge since deep down, he knew that he’ll never be like them. But, at the end of the day, who was deep in her while she breathlessly screamed out?

“What?” Once her eyes peeled away from the intense rolling of liquid in her champagne flute, she shot a perplexed glance at the iconic oversized coat he would constantly wear. It seemed the memo to wear different had not reached the man. Her orbs glimpsed back to his face as if he had gone mental. The room had a barely noticeable breeze of wind that only kissed those who strayed next to the golden, colossal windows. 

“I said take my coat.” Isaiah repeated, arm extending, urging the woman to take it. 

There was no jest in his eyes. Isaiah wasn’t playing around, “It’s fucking hot in here.” There weren’t any trails of sweat visible on the woman, but there were beads of them crawling down her back. It seeped down through the minuscule crack of space between the velvet dress and her glossy back. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the same case for those who did not handle well with heat as some elderly men incessantly wiped their foreheads with their lavish cloth.

“Just fucking take it.” Isaiah didn’t mean to take another glance, but he did. Accidentally. The group of vigilant observing eyes did not quiver from the pair, well, it was mostly attached to the woman who was sipping on the red wine. However, the closeness of Isaiah and the Shelby had brought alarming thoughts in their heads. There wasn’t a plan so it wjasn’t part of it, it was more of an impulsive act of decision when one of them shot up from the seat.

In the corner of Isaiah’s eyes was a blur of an approaching figure, increasing in size. The pace was casual, gait relaxed with his hands tucked in the pocket of his waistcoat. A haze of shimmering gold sparkled, the intensity of the blaring reflection multiplied by a tenfold.

“I’m gonna suffocate, I can’t breathe already.” Y/N scoffed, mouth finding solace in the half-drunk wine.

With every step, Isaiah’s eyes wavered back onto the woman. A fire burnt in his chest, no, it roared behind his eyes as fury dumped a barrel of petrol into the growing rage. Doubts settled in. Was it truly rage? Or was he scooting around the idea of jealousy? Before his head caught a glimpse of his peripheral, his hands were already chained around Y/N’s wrist. A satisfied smirk crept up on his lips when the figure halted in his steps. Watching the woman he was about to approach thrash in the man’s grip, he gawked.

“Isaiah!” Although eyes were darted towards the catastrophic scene, Isaiah didn’t bat an eye, head too blurry with satisfaction. Y/N with ajar opened mouth was yanked away from her barely finished wine. It tasted rich. A privilege she had been surrounded with only recently. “What the fuck was that?”

Once he managed to drag her into a hallway of stacked barrels, he finally noticed the dripping beads of tears from the leaking metal pipe. As teardrops descended from the sobbing pipe, it puddled on the miniature lake. The hallway felt exposed to the frosty night of London. A breeze of the chilly air overflowed through the cracked open hopper windows.

Not too long ago Y/N was clamouring with the pungent odour, now, she was sure the secretion had become icicles, frozen. Isaiah wasn’t so different, his shoulders remained in the stance of shock. After yanking her hand out of his grasp, the dishevelled woman beamed at the man. His flared nose was tinted red. While he pressed his lips shut, the echoing noise of the bawling pipe trickled in to fill in the pregnant silence.

An exasperated sigh fell off his lips, “They were fucking you with their eyes.” Blinking in disbelief, she let out a scoff. The reason he had dragged her was because people were looking at her? Well, fucking her with their eyes?

“So what? And who the fuck are you to bother?” Isaiah’s jaw ticked. How was he to answer? The man himself didn’t know how to reply. Thoughts resounded off his head, springing from one side to the other as he tried his best to think of an answer. There was fire roaring in his chest. A flicker of blue plastered across the dancing red canvas. It burned hotter than a summer’s day, flaring scorches of heat than heatwaves when one would stray around the furnace who had been chugged by boulders of dusty coal. But actions speak louder than words. As his eyes flickered to meet hers, the flame on the candle died with a blow of air.

Isaiah was fired up, chest taut, fingers clenched, ready to hurl it in their faces’. It all vanished. The anger, the fire, the stirred up hurricane, it all wiped off from existence. Her hair that was once a coiled perfection which was a result of an hour of refining each and every lock, had become a wild, untamed bunch. It was no different to that of her hairstyle she would wear in the creaking morning after an exhausting night of moans and groans. The pearl necklace that draped down her neck sat on her shoulder, clumping up a rubble even though it hung above her cleavage a few minutes ago.

Frigid bites of the brick wall pierced into her skin. The bleeding words that rested on her tongue were exhaled into a familiar warm mouth. Long forgotten, the coat he could’ve used for defence to crawl out of the fancy ball to protect him from the chilly night, puddled into the ground. A groan grumbled out of his lips to puff into her moaning ones; although, Isaiah wasn’t sure if it was because his coat would be the absorbing cloth, soon to be drenched by the unknown liquid from the pipe, or it was because her wide open legs had curled around his hip. 

There were no words exchanged, only wanton moans and guttural groans. The world around them faded into black and white before it all was swirled in a hazy blur. The tiles of the mosaic painting were soon plucked out. The world didn’t exist, just each other. There weren’t any irregular singing notes of the pipe, no blowing of wind into the cracked orifices and no boisterous thrumming of heart in their ears. It was just each other's breathing and their fingers rustling faint noises of caress. 

An exhalation rolled out of her chest to gush out into the tensed air. Air that was once struck with chords of anger and jealousy, but now, it was trickling with need and lust. Knocking the back of her head into the wall, the gaps between her fingers were spurting of his curly locks. The piercing cones smeared over the brick walls embedded into her skin. If his mouth wasn’t planting bruises on her skin, it would’ve hurt a lot more. 

“Saiah... fuck, no hickeys...” Stuttering between heavy breathing which was from the nipping of his teeth on her skin below her ears, Y/N finally managed to breathe out the words. Although it had been an unspoken rule which was brought up only once (the first time they fucked), Isaiah couldn’t give a fuck. To have the Shelby’s as a boss, Isaiah had somewhat familiarized himself with the gears spinning in their heads while he watched them work on the field. Not Thomas Shelby, never Thomas Shelby. The man was impossible to see through, just like the murky canals of Birmingham. If his siblings had not succeeded in reading his mind, what miracle did he possess if he could do so? 

So it was no wonder the pair had not taken the risk of overlooked details such as markings on their necks to be seen. There was one thing Y/N could do when having scandalous ties with her brother’s employee, and that was to be one step ahead of any of them. Preferably Thomas Shelby. It was the least she could do. Nights when Isaiah would climb through her windows, she would complain about the aching in her stomach beforehand. Although, that plan nearly blew up on her face as Polly had incessantly banged on her door to check up on her paining niece. Oh, how they all would’ve lost their shit if they knew Isaiah was deep in her, thrusting his hips with lust before her aunt lingered outside her door. 

Y/N always pondered to how everyone would react to their relationship. Relationship? There never was an appropriate time where the two sat down to discuss the fire sparking between them. Even though she had tried to bring it up at points, it always led her to a moaning mess. The pair had scooted around the topic, ignoring its existence. But for how long? The stunt Isaiah had pulled back not too long ago was of pure jealousy, the feeling of someone else eyeing something of his. It was not something he had felt before, ever.  

Pulling his lips away, his eyes grazed over the masterpiece he had painted. Streaks of red trailed across the side of her neck in peculiar directions. While Isaiah admired his prominent markings, Y/N noted the curled up corners of his lips and his gazing eyes on the scene. Oh, she was too late. Worried if her brothers were to see Isaiah’s branding, formulas were scribbled in her head. All she had to do was avoid everyone, Finn and Arthur especially if she didn’t want a wildfire to burn. Finn who was still a babe had curious eyes and quick fluttering lips, Arthur on the other hand just had an agile tongue and a rock as a fist. If one of them was to even peek a glance at the hickey, the news would’ve crossed the other side of England. Ada was easy to avoid as the woman was not present at the party; however, Y/N could not imagine her never-ending rambling. Knowing her older sister, she was sure it would lead to pregnancy and stubborn questions about the mysterious guys.

The trio of Thomas, John and Polly was one to keep in mind. Y/N herself wasn’t sure why she had grouped the three together, but she knew they had one thing in common. Merciless. She wasn’t sure how it would proceed if one of them was to gaze upon the marking; she never wanted to see it happen. While the woman who had a painted canvas on her neck was concerned with future issues to which she hoped she would never have to stumble upon, Isaiah was a smirking mess. The thought of them seeing the art he had created flicked a lighter to his gun powder. Once his eyes grazed over her shut ones and her lips pecking of silent mumbling, he let out a sigh. The woman was overthinking again. The noise of her saliva smacking on her swollen lips only made sense to her head as she went over the whole plan. Avoid, avoid and avoid. Isaiah’s eyes brushed upon her smeared lipstick, he wouldn’t be surprised if some made way on his lips. 

Her train of words halted once a warm thumb grazed over her bottom lip. Although scribblings of words jotted in her head, nothing made sense as Isaiah’s lips were on hers once again. The layers of planning and never-ending what-ifs vanished, wiped from her head to be buried deep underneath the bedding of soil. Back splayed against the wall and legs around his hip, Isaiah’s fingers trailed down to clutch on her thighs, nudging the stubborn hem of her dress up, coiling it in a bunch. Tongues caressing one another while strings of wanton moaning brushed down the bristles of their throats, everything was long forgotten. There was no Thomas Shelby. There was no Peaky Blinders. Just the two of them.

“What the actual fuck.” With the familiar straining voice echoing through the narrow hallway, the feeling of need vaporized. Heat that was once beaming through their chest seeped into the air, dancing in the wind. The glass bottle in his hands shattered. Piercing shards of glass embedded into his skin, slashing through his blood vessels, but he could see nothing but red. Snapping the neck of the bottle into millions of fragments, Arthur no longer cared the good chug of whiskey he wanted to have away from all the lying cunts. Tonight was full of people who had dollar signs in their eyes while they grasped onto leashes around those who needed to pay back stacks of cash. More than fucking enough. If Arthur heard any of their voice, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

So, when Arthur decided to pull away from the crowd to enjoy even the crappiest stench of whatever the fuck liquified the soil that smeared along the bricks, he did not expect to see a Peaky boy’s tongue down his little’s sister throat. Even though the eldest Shelby wasn’t in many conversations (there was no need to ponder that all they wanted was Thomas’s cock), he barely noticed the disappearance of the second youngest Shelby, most likely because he was too focused on maintaining the position of his curled fists which were stuffed deep in his coat’s pocket. Despite him yanking out his red, thrumming hand multiple of times, a glare from Thomas was enough to remind him of the lingering eyes.

Feet descending down the wall, Y/N’s eyes didn’t blink once as she stared at the abrupt appearance of her eldest brother. Well, fuck. Fuck the plan. Fuck avoiding. Because the future she didn’t want ever was now, “Arthur.”

Without a word uttered between the two, a distance increased with every shove down their throats. Arthur Shelby was here. Arthur Shelby saw the son of the man he trusted pinned his little sister to the wall. Eyes were lassoed, ropes were thrown around, yanking stammering thoughts. Arthur’s eyes that were popped out of his eye socket did not quiver from Isaiah’s figure. The smear of red against the boy’s lips and his dishevelled waistcoat was enough for Arthur to go mental. Isaiah wasn’t sure how he felt. There was a jolt of inhumane voltage zapping through his heart before a snip of a scissor prevented it to ever be alive again. 

The man whose face oozed of litres of blood was a victim of whatever lurked under Arthur Shelby’s skin. If Isaiah wasn’t there to notice his motionless body, he couldn’t give a fuck, but he was. He saw men struggle to hold Arthur’s thrashing body back. The devil they called it. The plunging noise descending his throat and into the green lake in his gut trickled through Isaiah’s ears. He was dead meat, “Arthur, it’s not what it looks like- I can explain.” 

“Fucking not what it looks like?” Although the eldest Shelby stood at the other end of the hallway, his booming voice was as if he was right in front of them. Wavering the cracked neck of the whiskey glass, furious spit gushed out of his lips. Hair curtained to flare up, the man was beaming with steam. “Fucking explain why you looked like you were about to fuck Isaiah!” 

Speckled soil shivered from its land to rest upon the ground. The ground the building sat upon shook, shaking the glass panes to send raining shards of glass across the marble floor. Thomas stepped down the stairs. Seconds ago, the man was under the ceiling of solid gold, now, he was under dripping tainted water that pecked his shoulders. His face was unreadable although a twitch of his jaw gave away the underlying anger, “One fucking day, Arthur, you couldn’t give me one fucking day of silence?” 

Trailing behind him was John and Finn who were laughing at an obnoxious joke uttered by the youngest himself, something about his boxers ending up on the street. It fell into silence. Despite the warning Thomas had incessantly, stubbornly pressed on his accompanies of the night, a part of him had already predicted this was to happen. There was hope. There was hope that the night might’ve flown pass smoothly without a bump over the road. And then there was reality. Awry reality never resembled the plans in Thomas’s head. However, there was a second he had missed in his life. A second was forgotten, jumped over to the next beat of his heart. He didn’t need many words from the blood gushing out of Arthur’s curled fist and the mussed hair of the pair.

Well, there goes the plan. Out the fucking window it was. With a cigarette sighing on his lips, he gestured, “Go ahead. Talk.”

Maybe Y/N should���ve listened to Ada.

[nourelle-tracy]

Ok so here we are! This is for fabfivefeb prompt by @gumnut-logic. I chose tge prompt "a memory" and the amaaaazing iris chose to help me and write a fic for my drawings ::squeals and hugs her::

Art is by me, but full credit of this fantastic fic goes to @bonsaiiiiiii 🤗🤗💛✨

Spoiler: Sequel to SOS 2

Warning: panic attacks!

"Welcome back with the 7 o'clock news! Here’s one last hour: at this moment the International Rescue has just heroically rescued a family from a dangerous situation. The disastrous incident, which occurred in a solitary lost house in the mountains of Wuhan, China, involved the rescue of 5 children and a mother, and the heroic intervention of our rescuers, as depicted in this video." The presenter departed to the side to allow all the families present behind the big camera to be able to see the long-awaited video, which represented the pilot of the green Thunderbird along with his co-pilot, recently returned. Both were pulling out the mother and children, fortunately all alive, from the rubble of the house collapsed on itself. You could see the pilot with the yellow sash looking around seriously, before his face turned into a smile, greeting the few journalists gathered, while the pilot with the green sash hid his face from the cameras walking quickly, neither of them giving a word to the press.

"Wow, what a nice comeback after so much..." Gordon grunted, settling better on the back of his seat.

"They practically hit us. Are you okay puffer?" Virgil answered, watching him out of the corner of his eye while he kept his 'girl' in the air.

"Yes. Not as bad as for the...first day." Gordon replied, sighing.

"After the accident it was fair for you to feel that way. You’re just a little out of shape after so much time with those casts."

Gordon subconsciously touched his arm, although it wasn't hurting, remembering how he had gotten that cast on his arm for a few months. He owed Penny a big favor. Then he stretched. "Let’s get this family to the hospital and then we’ll go home."

"How do you measure this day from 1 to 10?" Virgil asked, looking at him directly this time.

The blond considered it for a moment. "Meh, a valid 7. I’m a little rusty. I just want to go home and eat all the celery bars in the pantry." Virgil chuckled. "You?"

"Even if the day is not yet over I'll give it a 9. No tragedies today." Virgil replied.

They had arrived home, and the dinner had been delicious as always. Not really. After trying not to throw up at the table with the other brothers so that Grandma wouldn’t tie them all to some palm trees on the island, Gordon apologized to then go up to his room under the guise of resting for a moment before going for a bath, with immense relief from Virgil who, to be honest, could not see the moment, while all the other brothers disappeared in a heartbeat in various parts of the island not to be found by Grandma when she mentioned a possible dessert. Unfortunately, Scott did not escape in time, repeatedly making praying gestures while sitting at the table, while Grandma put some strange sugary concoction in front of him.

Gordon hurried up to his room, the place where he was most of the time during his convalescence. And in fact, he now wanted to be in the pool for a night swim, and here he is, sitting at the foot of the bed. But after that he would have gladly gone to the pool, maybe soaking all night, even naked if he wanted it. He didn’t care much about sleeping, despite what Virgil kept babbling about, even threatening to keep him nailed to the bed if it was necessary; after all, he had been living the good life between bed and sofa for a long time.

In his hand he had a stone with a paper attached on it, maybe nothing important, but his instinct strongly suggested to him to take it from the rubble. And there it was, in his hands.

During the rescue he had the bad feeling of being observed, and shortly after that rock had made his appearance. He cut off the card, laying the stone on the ground, and opened it with trembling hands. What he saw was enough to make him suddenly nervous.

There, in a wrinkled sheet and probably reused many times, there was a threatening message, consisting of many newspaper clippings glued together. Nothing unusual, you will think, the message will be addressed to the family and should be taken to the police for a good report. But no.

I just wanted to send you to your mom. I thought u missed her...I doubt she is proud of such a reckless child! Do you even remember her? Did she even love you? I doubt!

The message was exactly for him, and unfortunately it wasn't the only one. He did not have time to think further because suddenly a panic attack, also this familiar, began to cloud his sight. He lost no more time, making sure the door was locked properly and moving towards the stereo. His brothers would have tied him up somewhere, but he didn’t care. He put on a song, the first that came to his mind, cranking up the volume and starting to cry desperately at the melody of Caramelldansen, something a little ironic given the situation.

Once his breath was more or less regular, he stood up again, destroying everything that happened to him within range. It didn’t matter if it was the wall, the shelves, the bedside tables...he threw it all away in panic and rage.

He then began to look for something else, opening his closet door and throwing away clothes, shoes, hangers, everything within his sight, until he could see a box still piled between the clothes. He took it gently, his hands shaking violently and his face drenched with tears. He picked up with his nose, sitting at the foot of the bed, the one thing he had not destroyed, or at least not yet. He watched without any force left in his body the feathers fly in the air from the torn pillow, and then he returned to look at the box that he had just pulled out, labeled 'Mom’s memories'. Although, there was nothing belonging to his mom in that box.

In an almost feverish impulse he began to reread the other cards, compiled with the same technique, sent by the one who had helped to make his life a hell and to keep him relegated to this damn island. He felt the rage take hold of him again, so he crumpled all the cards again, throwing them against the wall with all the force in his body. When the second panic attack also calmed down, Gordon rose slowly, collecting all the wrinkled paper balls and placing them in the box, a new ball to add to the collection. He then collapsed on the floor tired, completely forgetting the idea of a swim in the pool.

John appeared to verify Gordon’s condition, and was greeted by the remix of What Are You Doing In My Swamp blasted at full volume, not that it surprised him.

Since the accident, Virgil had sensors applied to Gordon’s clothes to keep him under control and to note any changes in temperature or mood in the squid boy; and here, at this moment, all the values, from the heartbeat to blood pressure, From body temperature to constant mood swings, everything was through the roof. Too much.

Once he had taken control of his stereo and turned off the music, massaging his throbbing temples, John was greeted by a view that made him widen his eyes from the shock. What the...?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Again all credit for this fic goes to @bonsaiiiiiii

[fedtothenight]

this competition asked to write a short story in the dystopian genre and my entry's below - don't rb!

the sweetest fruit

The boy gasped, straining against the padded frame of the jeep just as the vehicle slowly came to a halt. ‘Look!’ he shouted, pointing at a spot about a hundred feet from the group. ‘Look, Mum! That’s so cool!’

Half-instinctively, his mother had already grabbed a fistful of his tank-top, ready to yank him back. She had spent the entirety of the trip sitting as still as possible, facing forward, eyes stubbornly fixed on the self-cooling top of the car in a pointless effort to fight her motion sickness: her patience was already wearing very thin without her eight-year-old personal safety hazard trying to get himself killed.

‘Ethan, for the love of God,’ she snapped. ‘I already told you to stop leaning over the frame! Do you realise how dangerous that is?’

‘No, Mum, you’ve got to look!’

‘Emma, darling,’ her husband whispered, a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘You should really look at this. It’s magnificent.’

Whatever it was, even her fifteen-year-old daughter - who had spent the last thirty minutes texting her friends back home without so much as a glance at the scenery - was jaw-slacked, so she slowly got up on her wobbly knees and peered over her shoulders.

In the shadow of a tree, protected from the sweltering heat, two lions were feasting on a zebra. Perhaps belatedly, as it’d taken her a second to drink the sight in, she realised that the poor thing was still alive: writhing as blood, red and hot and pulsing, gushed out from where the bigger lion - the male - had bitten into its back.

The smaller one, the female, soundlessly sank its teeth into the dying animal’s neck, and the latter gave one last weak kick, finally falling limp. When the lioness stood again, it was almost impossible, from this distance, to see her eyes amidst the bloodied mess on her face.

‘Oh, my God, Matt,’ Emma said. ‘This is beautiful. Nature truly is beautiful.’

‘You don’t really get to see this kind of show anywhere else today,’ their guide said from the driver’s seat. He sounded proud, as if he’d hunted and fed the zebra to the lions himself.

Alberto wasn’t wrong, Emma reasoned. Given that they were parked in the middle of the privately-owned biggest North American savanna, he - or rather, his employer - was the one effectively feeding the lions. Like feeding mice to cats. She glanced at her children, glad they could have a window on a reality that was long gone. To think it would have taken a trip around the world to watch this spectacle - imagine the motion sickness then! If only, she considered wistfully, there could be a way of replicating glaciers just as accurately.

‘Honestly, it seems a bit unfair that they get to eat real meat,’ Ethan said at the dinner table a few hours later. He was picking at his plate, moving the fried grasshoppers they’d been served for dinner around, but not really eating any. ‘While we are stuck with insects and microprotein or whatever.’

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. She was tired and sunburnt, her sensitive pale skin suffering under the blistering sun of the region, so different from the temperate weather back home North. She had a splitting headache, too. She was, yet again, at the so-called end of her tether. ‘Ethan…’

‘You should be glad you get to eat at all,’ her daughter said at the same time. ‘There’s a reason it’s illegal to eat meat. These animals are here for show, anyway. They were originally from Africa.’

‘Shut up, Becca,’ Ethan mumbled. ‘Everybody knows there are no animals in Africa. There’s nothing there.’

Becca’s cheeks were tinted pink, eyebrows furrowed. ‘Of course there were animals. There were animals everywhere before the Climate Crunch.’

‘Both of you, stop it,’ Matt interjected. ‘Ethan, your sister is right. You should be grateful that we are here in the first place. That said…’ He leant forward, voice down to a whisper: ‘I have a surprise for you. Or, well, Richard has a surprise for us. When he arrives tomorrow, he’ll bring us real meat. Bovine meat.’

‘But it’s illegal,’ said Becca.

‘It’s technically illegal,’ Matt acknowledged. ‘It’s not if you know how to get some and no one from Animal Conservation finds out. Do you think our president only eats insects? Please, Becca. Use that big brain of yours.’

‘Yes,’ Ethan snickered. ‘Use your brain, Becca.’

‘That is too generous,’ Emma said. ‘Inviting us here in the first place was, when even he hasn’t gotten here yet. Now this. I wouldn’t know how to repay him.’

Truly, all she felt was jealousy. Her guts twisted with the sheer force of it. Yes, she had known that Richard was comfortable. The gated, heavily guarded estate spanned for thousands of acres, comprised the 5000sqt villa they were staying at (five bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a cinema, marble floors and solar panels on the rooftop), an indoor swimming pool inspired by vintage photos of Amalfi, two indoor tennis courts, and the savanna they’d explored earlier in the day. ‘The biggest conservation area in North America since they repurposed the Midwest,’ he’d bragged in a video call, two weeks before. ‘You will love it. The holiday you deserve. Make yourselves at home.’

But meat? He could get meat?

Matt’s family had designed DeNuketify, which was basically the only effective way of purifying ocean water from whatever nuclear waste Japan kept spewing so that it could be used and, most importantly, drunk. They had managed to flee the continent with the last handful of greencards about the time her family did, too, taking their precious Queen’s accent with them to found Nova London. She was the governor of Nova London now, for God’s sake. The bloody queen herself was long dead but she was alive, and yet, yet - they had never had meat.

‘We don’t have to, Emma,’ Matt said. ‘We just need to remember how lucky we are to enjoy this meal, this house, this holiday. Look at that,’ and he nodded towards the TV screen again. ‘Actually, Alexa!, volume up!, I think the Italians have finally surrendered.’

The war correspondent’s voice grew louder. She - they, Emma reminded herself: Becca always told her not to assume anyone’s gender - was wearing a dust mask and reading from a bundle of documents. ‘The last military hospital in the island of Palermo was destroyed four days ago by a Canadian airstrike,’ they were saying. ‘The rebels surrendered soon after, followed by the group of extremists in the Nebrodi island. Etna had already surrendered last year.’

‘It’s important to remember that these actions were necessary to finally put a rest on the instability of the region,’ they added. ‘Canada will fund a complete restoration of the Southern archipelago. The remaining civilians will be provided with a shelter and then, when the time comes, a suitable job. Nova Italia will be the sixteenth Canadian state, the fourth offshore. There are also hopes to extract petroleum from the seabed of the sunken city of Gela.’

‘Watch them make it into a holiday hotspot,’ Matt commented. ‘The weather is still nice there.’

‘Ooh, I heard about this.’ Becca picked her phone back up and started furiously typing away. ‘There’s this journal entry soldiers found over there, under the rubble, that’s gone viral. It was translated into English. Wait, I’ll pull it up. Alexa, volume down.’

‘I’m not sure I want to hear it,’ Emma said, uneasy. ‘We’re on holiday. Should we not watch a movie? Something funny?’

Becca waved her away, as if she was an annoying fly. ‘It’ll be good practice for my drama class.’

Matt didn’t help—he simply shrugged, half-apologetic, as if to say: Let her do her thing.

Becca made a show of clearing her throat, too, before she started reading from her phone—her high voice now grave, studied, as if she were speaking to a larger audience: ‘I wonder what peas taste like.’

Right then, the scene on screen changed to footage of what looked like a destroyed village, something out of an apocalyptic movie. Emma found herself unable to look away.

‘Nonna used to say that her own great-grandmother grew them in her garden. Figs, too,’ Becca read. ‘They say they were the sweetest fruit.’

Emma wondered if this journal was actually written by a child or a teenager. It didn’t sound like an adult at all. She couldn’t help but picture a girl, a brunette, not much older than Becca, perhaps a rebel, or a trainee nurse on the sweet cusp of adulthood, holding this journal of hers, or perhaps a gun. It violently reminded her that her own daughter, too, would have to serve her time in the Forces in three years.

On screen, the Canadian soldiers walked among the ruins, zigzagging between torn up clothes and discarded weapons, surely looking for surviving rebels under the rubbles.

‘Isn’t it silly that we can hear the fighters overhead and that all I can do is think about food?’ said Becca. ‘I wish we could also eat figs and be happy.’

On screen, the camera zoomed in on a long-forgotten man's shoe, some crumpled photographs, on a pile of bodies in black bin bags.

‘Grandma - I miss her - left me a poetry book, too, from T.S. Eliot. I hope the book is with me when I die, so I can give it back to her when we meet again, afterwards. So I can tell her that T.S. Eliot was wrong.’

On screen, one of the soldiers approached and showed a little trinket to the camera: a bloody, heart-shaped locket that must’ve once been golden, hiding the miniature pictures of two brunette children that would never have a name.

‘That’s enough,’ Emma said. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. ‘Stop reading.’

‘The world may have not ended with a bang, but it didn’t end with a whimper, either: the world didn’t end at all. Sometimes,’ Becca finished reading, ‘I wish it had.’

‘What a load of rubbish,’ Matt scoffed. ‘Everyone should feel lucky to be alive. I bet this journal is a fake. Alexa, turn the TV off.’

As the screen faded to black, Ethan finally popped a grasshopper in his mouth. ‘I can’t wait to have meat tomorrow.’

[henrycavell]

Heroine

*not my gif, if i end up actually updating this, i’ll make it a header 

pairing: clark kent / ofc named Emma

summary: working on it

warnings: the only warning i can think is, im not sure if this is going to be a series, or if its just going to be a string of one shots or if im just posting this to never update it but here we go :)

word count: 1.7k

@littlefreya​ @mary-ann84​ @wondersofdreaming​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @geralt-of-baevia​ @asylummara​ @dearlybelovedluke​ @promptandpros​ @mansaaay​ @daddys-littlewhitegirl​ @vacant-writings​ ​ @80scavill​ @kaatelyyynn @iloveyouyen​ @henrythickcavill​ @hell1129-blog​

Her body ached, every inch of her flesh felt bruised and every muscle and joint was sore and throbbing. Emma’s body laid atop the rubble from the battle, a destroyed street corner that ended up taking a little family owned sandwich shop out too. Cutting through the sounds of camera shutters and people questioning her seemingly unconscious body, Emma could hear the owner of the shop crying, throwing his hands in the air and freaking out. How was she focusing on that background conversation so easily? And… was this her fault?

The last thing she remembered clearly was walking home from campus. She’d failed a math test and had been freaking out about it, certain she was going to have to repeat the class next semester. The absolute last thing she remembered was telling herself there was nothing she could do about it now, and had decided to treat herself. So, she had turned the corner of Main Street with the intention of heading to the little ice cream parlor at the end of the block.

It had been a relatively normal day. The sun was setting, the temperature was dropping and the sky was a beautiful mix of pinks and reds turning to purples. Emma had passed several couples and families out enjoying their evening as she strolled down Main Street. At that’s where her memory ends.

Forcing her eyes open, Emma pulled herself up into a sitting position and tried to ignore the throbbing headache that was pounding in the back of her skull. The sudden movement from the young woman garnered a reaction from the news reporters and the citizens who had gathered around. The entire crowd seemed to silence, their breaths catching in the back of their throats. But the quiet didn’t last for very long.

“Miss! Miss! Can you tell us what happened?”

“Where did you come from!?”

“Do you know Superman??”

Questions came hurling at her so quickly that she hadn’t had time to answer any of them. Emma’s eyes widened as she looked around at all the different lights, cameras in every direction pointed on her. And she hadn’t the slightest clue what she had done. Or what had even happened.

“How did such a little thing like you take out those two big men?” A reporter with a sleazy mustache asked, pushing a microphone up to her mouth as two EMTs tried to make their way through the crowd to her.

“Get that out of my face,” Emma mumbled, swatting away at the microphone, feeling her stomach twisting itself into knots. She never had liked having attention on her, not even a little bit. One of the EMTs came up to her side and got down on his knees to her level, beginning to check her over, asking if she was alright. “I’m fine,” she mumbled, pulling her arm away from the medic.

The man looked towards his partner, before back at Emma. “We just watched you crash through the side of that shop. Let us take you and check you out.”

The last place Emma was going to go was anywhere with these strangers. “No, I’m fine.”

A new voice entered her focus, demanding to be heard over the rest of the reporters even though it was soft and gentle. “She said she’s fine.” This reporter wore a brown suit over a navy plaid button up. His hair was perfect, not even a strand out of place. Large black framed glasses caught the reflection of the street lights in the night, hiding swirling pools of blue. The man’s brow was set into a hard line as he shooed the men away, though he knew there was nothing he could do for the mass crowd behind him. Clark only knew this girl didn’t need medical attention.

Clearing his throat, he held his hand out to Emma and gave her a small smile, nervous that she wouldn’t take it. He needed to speak to her and he hated that it had to be under the guise of a Daily Planet reporter, but he couldn’t speak to her as anyone else. “Names Clark. I… Daily Planet.” He mumbled, his gaze falling to his suede shoes on the wet pavement, his hand falling before Emma even had a chance to take it. Positive that she wouldn’t have anyway. “Let me just help you out of here,” Clark offered, looking back up at her before he reached for her hands on his own, pulling her up from the debris she had made a bed out of.

Emma had wanted to refuse him, had been thinking about pushing him away, too. To hell with his help, reporter was written all over him. It was just an attempt to get her to answer his questions over the rest. But he hadn’t given her a chance. Pulling her up to her feet, Emma groaned, feeling her back pop in places it shouldn’t. The strange man held her close to his chest, using his free arm to push his way through the crowd. Other reporters quickly shouted for their camera men to follow, with their pens and note pads in their hands they tried frantically to chase or stop them.

“Hey! Hey, wait!” They would shout, but Clark hadn’t hesitated for a step, nor had he allowed Emma to. Leading her down the street, Clark silently cursed to himself. If he were alone, he could turn down any one of these alleys and then just fly off to escape the vultures on their heels, but he couldn’t do that now.

Letting his hand fall to Emma’s, he grabbed it tightly and pulled her down a darkened street, before immediately pulling her into the empty back entrance of a closed restaurant. Clark flattened himself against the wall, forcing Emma to do the same with his arm across her chest. Her heart was pounding heavy, impossible for him to ignore. The shadows and the dumpster concealed the pair and Clark watched as the crazed reporters continued down the street with their camera men on their heels.

The large man’s shoulders slouched as he stepped away from the wall, one hand raising to his face to fix his glasses. Before he could even open his mouth, Emma was already walking away from him. “I’m not answering any questions for you, either.” The night was cold, a chill breeze rolling through the empty streets. Emma could hear the sounds of police sirens right around the corner and still, she wondered just what she had done.

“Then I won’t ask any,” Clark called after her, taking a few steps in her direction.

“Then you have no reason to be following me.” Emma pointed out to him, heading in the opposite way of the police lights, not sure what way she was headed. But Clark wasn’t ready to give up yet.

“Where are you going? You just went through something unbelievable and you’re acting like nothing has happened. Let me just make sure you get home safe-“ Clark reached out to place his hand on her shoulder. Emma turned on her heels and jerked away from his touch, looking at him as if he were an alien, but she couldn’t have possibly known that. “Don’t touch me. I don’t need your help.”

Clark frowned, freezing in his tracks as he looked down at Emma. He couldn’t shake this feeling he kept getting, especially when he looked right into her glistening eyes. Like she was completely clueless, afraid even. “Do you even know what just happened?” His question rolled off of his tongue in a breath, and Emma’s reaction was all the answer he needed. Her brow pulled together and her stare faltered from his. Her gaze dropped for just a second, a slight hesitation before her lips parted, but no words came out.

“Let me help you,” Clark repeated, reaching out to her once more. His hands fell on her shoulders and he turned her back in the direction she had initially been walking in. His hand fell down to her back, but not in a way that sent chills down her spine. Rather, it was comforting. Emma looked up at Clark as she followed him down the sidewalk, trying to tell herself that she was being tricked. He was a reporter, and all he wanted was the scoop first, he didn’t actually care. But what did Emma have to tell him? She knew nothing.

Whenever Emma closed her eyes, she would see slight flashes of the event. She’d remember what it felt like to throw a man through a brick wall, and how it had felt when she’d hit one herself. But she couldn’t recount the event, not at all. “Let’s get you some food, just sit down and relax for a bit. Then I can call a ride, take you home.” Clark was speaking again, pulling Emma out of her thoughts. For the moment, he wasn’t acting like a reporter and that was enough to help keep her calm.

Clark kept one hand on Emma for their entire walk, afraid that at any second the woman would get frightened again and decide to run. Still downtown, Clark brought her to a little restaurant he had visited on a handful of business occasions. They had little golden lights twinkling outside of their windows and a black and silver striped banner. It was fancy, but cozy and inviting at the same time.

“I’m… not very hungry,” Emma hesitated at the door, lingering on the stairs as Clark held the door open out for her.

“That’s fine,” he spoke, though a little frown came to his lips. “You don’t want to stand out here in the cold and wait for your ride, though, do you?” Clark motioned into the restaurant anyway, forcing a little smile her way. “I’ll order the ride now, promise.”

Emma sighed, her hands hugged around her torso, already bitter over the chilly temperature. Something told her that if she entered the restaurant with Clark, he’d be trying to get her to talk about the event sooner rather than later. But she was a rather long walk from her apartment and he was right, she didn’t want to be out in the cold any longer.

“Fine,” she mumbled and stepped into the restaurant before him.

[basicjetsetter]

At the End of the Day (I)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.9k

Warnings: Lil Fluff, Lotta Angst, Language, Violence – an extremely violent scene, might not be suitable for some, don’t continue to read if it triggers you.

Summary: All Bucky wants to do is protect his family and keep them happy, keep them safe. But no matter what he does, danger hunts him down and makes his life a living hell. It has a name. Baron Zemo.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bucky. I hope y’all love it as much as I do. If you want, you can listen to Sometimes by H.E.R. The fic isn’t inspired by the song, but I felt like it fit. (Gif not mine, all credit to its creator). Also I apologize if the translation is wrong. Happy Reading!!

Part II

Bucky had it all planned out.

Race out of the debriefing room as soon as the meeting adjourned, jump into his car, still grimy and clothed in tactical gear, and gun it to his house to get there in time for dinner. For the most part, the plan was successful. He left the Compound at 3:45 p.m. and made it to the driveway by 5:50. The clock on the dash reads 6:18. He can’t get out of the car. Every time he attempts to unfasten the seatbelt his muscles lock up until he caves under the exhaustion.

Missions never take this much of a toll on his body, but to be fair, he did hurl himself out of a ten-story building like an idiot. He remembered how the world outside swayed, remembered hearing Sam shout into the coms, telling him that everyone was safely out and that he needed to get out too. There was nothing else they could do.

The floor underneath his boots shuddered. Stairs were out of the question and there was no time for Sam to figure out which side of the building Bucky was in. So he jumped.

By now he’d thought he’d be used to imminent death. After all, it came with the job. And yet this knowledge didn’t keep him from squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath until his lungs cried for air. It didn’t help his hammering heart or the tight clench of his gut as he plummeted to meet the concrete.

Everything had gone a bit fuzzy afterward. A lot of people rushed in to see if he was still alive. He thought he saw a familiar face, but chalked it up to be a trick of the light. Sam and Wanda hovered over him, repeatedly asking if he could hear them and if he was alright. Nothing hurt too bad. He somehow managed to rotate enough so his left side took most of the impact. His head hurt like a son of a bitch, though, and his mouth tasted metallic and felt like sandpaper.

Medics pawed at him the entire way back to the Compound, checking his vitals, shining bright lights in his eyes to rule out concussions. One of them suggested he be left in their care for the night.

What he needed was a goddamn aspirin and a nap. If he let them hook him up to all those machines, he’d be stuck in there for… Christ knows how long. Hours? Days?

Bucky just wanted to go home to his girls.

Instead of listening to the docs advising him to do such and such, he thought of you seeing him like this, bruised from head to toe, covered in rubble and blood. You’d seen him look worse, but every time he came in with even a cut you worried at your bottom lip and a small crease of a frown darkened your features. But he knew you’d be relieved to have him at home in one piece.

So he disregarded their caution. Within 48 hours he’d be right as rain. The perks of being a souped-up solider, he thought ruefully.

Only one good came out of this mess. Bumblebee is going to go through the roof with excitement. He can hear her screams now, “No way! That’s so cool! Mama! Mama! Did ya hear that? Daddy jumped out of a building!”

6:32 p.m.

He wouldn’t be able to tell her anything if he couldn’t haul his ass out of the car.

Bucky groaned as he grabbed hold of his canvas bag and slung it over his shoulder, then kicked the door of the Jeep open. He gingerly climbed out, whimpering with each movement. He shouldn’t have sat in there for so long. All his muscles are stiff as a starched shirt. He leaned against the car door to close it.

As Bucky limped up to the front door he heard the sounds of Bumblebee and Tater, their golden retriever puppy, running around and you laughing as Bumblebee huffed in frustration, “Give me back my shoe, Tater!”

The corners of Bucky’s mouth curved into a large grin despite his crushing headache. He put his key in the lock and frowned when it didn’t click. Already open. Sighing deeply, he twisted the knob and pushed open the door. Scampering feet ran out of the kitchen into the foyer. “Daddy’s home!”

Sure enough, Bumblebee, and Tater right on her heels, dashed into him just as he dropped his canvas bag on the ground and jumped into his open arms. He grunted in the effort to keep her up in his aching arms, staggering back a couple of steps. “Jeez kid, you’re getting big on me.”

She pouted. Miniature versions of your eyes examined his face. “Are you okay, Daddy? Why’re you all purple and blue?” Her smooth, chubby hand brushed away a stray hair from his face. “Does that hurt?”

Had he winced?

In front of him, he heard a sharp inhale. Shit. Reluctantly, Bucky lifted his eyes and met yours. He’s probably not his usual sight for sore eyes. In fact, he’d be willing to bet that he’s the cause of those sore eyes.

You assessed him from head to toe, no doubt noting how he shifted your daughter to his right side to protect his left.

“James.” Your tone is viperous.

He’s in for it. “Don’t say it,” he pleaded.

“Buchanan.”

Bucky hid his face behind his daughter’s shoulder. “Doll, I-“

“Barnes. What the hell happened to you?” You didn’t wait for an answer, striding over and taking your daughter out of his arms and setting her down. “Honey, why don’t you go finish up your dinner. Daddy and I need to talk about grown-up stuff.”

The girl looked up at her dad with a defiant set of her mouth. “I want Daddy to come and eat with me.” She is her mother’s child, but the way she held herself reminded Bucky so much of himself before he became a pawn to Hydra. Cock-sure and confident, ready to hold his own. That’s his little Bumblebee.

You sighed. “He’ll be there in a minute, baby. I promise. Go on,” you smiled sweetly. He knows you don’t want her to worry, but you aren’t doing a good job at neutralizing your frantic expression.

Your daughter still didn’t budge.

“Celeste, please. For Mama?” you supplicated, leaning down to meet her stricken gaze.

“Is Daddy in trouble?” she asked, her voice now small and quavering. It broke his bruised heart.

Bucky’s knees buckled as he kneeled and he did his best to minimize the sound of his groans. “No, no, Bumblebee, I’m fine. Mama just wants to take care of me, that’s all. As soon as we’re done, I’m all yours.”

“Promise?”

He nodded and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Super promise.”

She perked up as if her mood hadn’t soured at all and skittered off into the kitchen, Tater trailing after her with a tiny shoe in his mouth. Bucky waited until he heard her chair scrape across the floor then peered up at you. “Might need some help getting up here, Doll.”

Despite your apparent anger, you giggled lightly and held out your hand. Bucky grabbed it with his right and pulled himself up, but leaned against the wall adjacent to the front door for support, panting.

“God Bucky, you look awful,” you whispered, running a hand through his tangled hair. “Did you get hit by a train?”

“Sort of.” At your stern frown, he confessed. “I-uh… I may have jumped out a ten-story building and the ground might’ve broken my fall. It’s nothing,” he rushed. “I’ll be fine in a few hours.”

He sucked in a breath as you softly pressed a hand to his left side. You set to work on undoing the harnesses and buckles of his vest. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” he asked.

“Lie to me.” Bucky fixed his mouth to deny it, but you continued. “We’ve been married for six years… Don’t you think I know you like the back of my hand by now? You aren’t fine. It’s not nothing. You’re human, no matter what you or anyone else thinks. You can still feel pain.” Your voice dropped to a murmur.

At first, he thought your silence resulted from the weight of your words because now he certainly felt like he got hit by a train. But he followed your eyes. You’d successfully ridden him of the top half of his tactical gear, laying everything in a heap at the bottom of your feet. Angry welts, cuts, and bruises smattered down his chest in an intricate pattern, ranging from red to purple to blue. The puffed scar connecting his cybernetic arm to his shoulder paled in comparison.

Hearing you sniffle brought him back to the present.

“Jesus Bucky.” Tears shone in your eyes, pooled, then fell down your cheeks.

This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. He wasn’t supposed to come home after being away for three weeks and immediately upset his girls. The sheer sadness laced in your words hurt him more than his wounds. And that sadness wouldn’t just go away in a few hours.

Bucky pulled you into his arms, welcoming your soft body against his like a heat compress. You smelled like roasted garlic chicken with a hint of buttery, herbed mashed potatoes, and lavender soap. His stomach growled.

“Remember that time we took Bumblebee to Wollman Rink and she accidentally fell on her head and got that nasty bruise?” Bucky asked, resting his head on your shoulder and pressing small kisses to the side of your neck. A small sigh of contentment sifted into the air.

“Yeah.” Another sniffle. “Sam, Wanda, Peter, and Rhodey all bought her big teddy bears and ice cream to cheer her up. My poor baby. I never wanted to hear her cry like that again.”

Bucky nodded in agreement, recalling how every rational thought fled his mind as he rushed to his daughter, cradling her small body to his chest. They took her to the Med-Bay and she stayed there for a week and he never once left her side.

“We didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. Sam all but locked us out of her room and told us to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes.”

You cocked your head back and gazed confusedly into his pale blue eyes. “You going somewhere with this?”

“We can’t…” he paused, clearing his throat. “There is a healthy amount of worry we’re allowed to give before it becomes too much, you know. We’ll go mad wanting to keep each other out of harm’s way and that’s exactly what you’re doing. This is my job, Doll. I get hurt. We just gotta accept that.”

You pulled out of his arms and crossed yours. You didn’t damper the bitterness as you spoke. “You’re such a hypocrite. What would you do if I came home covered in bruises and cuts every night? Huh? Shrug it off? That’s what you’re telling me to do?”

Bucky didn’t know if he should answer, so he kept his mouth shut, down-casting his eyes. That’s not quite what he meant, but it’s in the same vein.

“Alright. Fine.” You turned away from him and walked out of the room, into the kitchen.

That didn’t turn out how he wanted it to, but Bucky didn’t have the energy to go after you. You need time to simmer. 

He picked up his stuff and dropped it off on the foot of his office, quickly showered and changed into a pair of gray sweatpants. His muscles appreciated the warm water and comfortable clothes.

The lights in the family room and dining room were shut off by the time he finished, leaving only the kitchen to be illuminated in a faint glow. A stack of dishes sat in the sink and the leftovers were contained on the counter, ready to be put away in the fridge. On the other side of the house, down the hall, the light in the second guest bathroom gleamed. He heard the splash of water and giggles. Bath time.

Despite his cloudy mood, he smiled. Bucky missed this.

After he scarfed down some microwaved chicken, mashed potatoes and carrots, he got to work on the dishes.

The act always soothed him. When every second of his day had to be calculated down to the last minutiae, taking the time to listen to his thoughts became a welcome gift. But all his thoughts led back to you. Your warm body in his arms, your head propped against his chest as you made little sighs of happiness. He understands why you’re upset, and no, he wouldn’t like it if you came home hurt every night as he does. Hell, he wouldn’t be able to stand to be away from you as long as he does now.

You’re concerned for him. The least he can do is empathize and lessen your fears. Him not saying anything translated to you as, “Yes, I’d prefer if you didn’t care about me.”

“I’m such an asshole,” he muttered, tossing the dish towel onto the counter after drying the last plate.

He heard you shuffle behind him and he turned in time to see you drop an armful of blankets and pillows onto the couch.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, acknowledging the clean dishes. “If you need some more pillows there’s a couple in the hall closet.”

Before you could lope off into your bedroom, Bucky called out, “I’m sorry.”

That stopped you short.

He chanced a step forward, then another, until you put a hand out to confirm the distance. “About earlier… You were right.” Bucky itched to hold you, but instead, he settled for pulling his hands through his damp hair. “If the situation was reversed, I know I wouldn’t be able to handle it and the fact that you’ve been doing it every day since we got together… I’m gonna be more careful. I promise. I can-I can request some time off. We can—”

You interrupted him, so quiet even his enhanced hearing strained to pick up the noise. “Do you know why I handled it, Buck? Why I never complained?”

He shook his head, again finding his tongue too tied up to answer.

“Because it’s your job. You’re an Avenger. You’re this awesome superhero who saves hundreds of people every day. How can I complain?” Your words choked off with emotion, yet somehow you managed to push past it, sounding rugged and defeated. “H-How can I be so selfish to want to keep the Winter Soldier safe? The craziest thing is, I never see him when I look at you. The soldier, I mean.” You bowed your head and swiped away ceaseless tears. When you brought your eyes back up to meet his, both of your eyes glistened. “I see you, Bucky. And you’re someone I can’t lose.”

Bucky didn’t react fast enough. As soon as he took that last step forward to stand right in front of you, you turned and dashed into your bedroom, shutting the door. He didn’t hear the lock turn.

He walked over to the door and placed his hand on the knob. Pressed his ear against the wood. You sounded close. Crying with your hands clamped over your mouth to muffle the sobs. Nothing would be able to stop him from going in the room to comfort you, locked door or not. But if you wanted him to be near you, you’d have left the door open.

How had this whole day turned to shit?

He went into his daughter’s room. You being upset with him and him landing himself a night on the couch were huge setbacks, but he’d be damned if he didn’t tell Bumblebee a good-night story. She loves those. He loves telling them to her.

They have their ritual every time he’s home. She’s usually sitting up against the headboard, wearing a toothy grin. He’d come in and she’d scoot over to the side to let him lie on the bed with her. Some nights they’d doze off together.

When he cracked open the door and peered in, her back faced him and the blue covers were drawn up over her head.

Bucky took a seat on the corner of her twin mattress, feeling how it slightly bowed under his weight. Tater is curled up on the other corner. His head rested on his paws and his eyes dolefully glanced up at Bucky.

“Bumblebee,” he whispered, stroking her head. “Hey, kid. You sleep?”

Silence. He heard her breath quicken. She’s still awake.

“You mad at me too?”

He held his breath. Utter silence.

“Guess I can’t blame ya.” Exhaling slowly, Bucky leaned in and kissed the back of her head. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart. I love you.” Then he got up, turned on her rainbow nightlight, and delicately closed the door.

The family room felt too small. Too still. Too vacant. Trying to sleep on a couch, especially this one, in particular, had to be the worst sleeping arrangement he’s ever experienced, on par with sleeping on dirt floors and metal cots.

A previously recorded football game is playing noiselessly on the TV. All the lights are turned off. The exhaustion Bucky warded off earlier returned in full force. He blanked out by the time the game reached the second quarter.

“Good evening, Sergeant Barnes,” a distant voice lulled. It’s familiar. Accented. It stood nearby, standing right above him. “Or would you prefer Winter Soldier?”

Bucky’s eyes opened as slow as a stream of molasses. His head swam and his body felt out of place. He didn’t know what was up or down, left or right. That wasn’t what shocked him, though. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t even twitch his pinky. 

Isn’t he supposed to be in jail? How did he find me? How the hell did he even get in here?

As far as Bucky can tell he’s still in his family room, laying on the couch. The covers around his body have been thrown back. A needle is sticking out of his right arm, connected to a small drip bag.

“Whahh—” he slurred. It took him a while to pull his eyes away from the needle and up to the man looming above him with a gaunt smirk.

God no.

“Oh good, you remember me.” Zemo pulled up a chair and sat right by Bucky’s head. He’s wearing a plain black sweater and dark jeans. “Don’t worry, it isn’t poison. Simply a temporary sedative. The effects will wear off as soon as I take out the needle.”

Bucky tried to scream with everything inside of him. He called your name over and over again, but nothing came out higher than a whimper. Even if you heard him, he doubted if you’d be able to alert the others in time. What if he already got to you? Or Bumblebee? A cold sweat broke out across his forehead.

Zemo watched in amusement at the emotions flitting over Bucky’s face. “You’re a hard man to find, but easy enough to keep track of. Your little band of do-gooders always makes the front page. But you know what those covers don’t show? Hm?”

He held up a picture frame level to Bucky’s eyesight. It was you, him, and Bumblebee, all going down a slide together. Sam took the picture a year ago. You were at the top, holding up your then three-year-old daughter, and Bucky at the bottom. Bumblebee gripped his long strands of hair with a vicious glee in her eyes. Your eyes are closed from laughing and Bucky is looking up at his wife and daughter with a rapt smile.

“You have a lovely family, Sergeant Barnes. Reminds me of mine.” He pulled out a small folded copy of a photograph, creased due to the course of time.

Bucky saw a family, but he didn’t take them in. He didn’t want to care.

Zemo paid him no attention as he stared fondly at the picture, taking them in for himself and then comparing it to Bucky’s family.

“You see, I went about this all wrong the first time around. Taking on the Avengers as a whole resulted from my hubris, if you will. I saw the potential to exploit a weakness and work around the outside. Some might say I instigated the War. No,” he smiled and took the needle out of Bucky’s arm. “I merely set them on the right path.

“Captain Rogers was indeed quite fond of you, but I knew Stark wouldn’t be so disillusioned to your heinous crimes. Though, I admit I may have given him too much credit. A tin man set up to fight against two of the world’s best super soldiers? A failed endeavor, yes, but necessary. It brought me reason. Why influence a whole and almost succeed when I can influence one at a time. Leaves less room for marginal error, don’t you agree, Soldat?”

As the sedative ebbed away, feeling gradually flooded into his fingertips and toes. In a couple of minutes, he’d be free from the immobilizing numbness. He prepared his body to spring.

Zemo pulled one more object from behind his back. A red book. An old, red book with a black star branded on the front.

An icy gust of recognition shot shards of panic through his system. It couldn’t be. He’s fixed. Shuri fixed me.

The man went on in relish. “Of course you recognize your creator’s book. A handy thing, this is. Hydra is many things, Sergeant Barnes. Many things. But one thing they remain to be is prepared.” He thumbed through the pages, stopping to the last several pages. “Two steps ahead and all that stuff.”

Bucky forced out the word, “Why?”’

“Why?” Zemo mocked. “Why is it that an abomination, a murderous machine such as yourself, can have this type of happiness at the end of the day? Doesn’t it strike you as unfair, Sergeant Barnes? Why should you have this beautiful family while mine doesn’t even get an ounce of recognition? No front covers. Not even an obituary. I’m simply taking matters into my own hands and dealing justice where justice is due. And Sergeant Barnes, you have over 70 years of undue justice stacked against you.”

Tears stung Bucky’s eyes. Every inch of his body trembled. His teeth painfully chattered. He felt his lips move. “No, please. No, no, no, no, no. God no. I can’t. I can’t.” Not to them.

“This is the way it has to be, Sergeant Barnes. I truly am sorry.” Zemo rose from the chair, walking around to the back of the couch. “Возвращение (Return).”

Bucky’s whole body drowned in a cold sweat and the blood drained from his face. Those bastards! Those goddamn fucking bastards! He pushed off the couch on jelly legs, falling in a heap of blankets.

“сброс настроек (Reset).”

Anger propelled him to his feet and he staggered drunkenly around the couch, standing arms-length away from Zemo. Only a few feet stood between him and the front door.

“не помнить. Добро пожаловать назад зимний солдат (Forget. Welcome back Winter Soldier).”

Zemo closely watched the man standing rigid in his sweats, chest heaving. Bits of his hair is in his face and one blanket is caught around his ankle. He heard the harsh grinding of his metal palm curling into a fist. The asset’s face smoothed over into a mask of stiff submission and indifference.

“Ready to comply.” Mechanical, detached, lethal.

“Terminate everyone inside the house.” With those final words, Zemo withdrew from the house, exiting out of the front door. It slammed shut.

You weren’t really asleep.

Even trying felt like a waste of time. The king-size bed swallowed you with its vast amount of unfilled space. Sleeping in an empty bed was hard enough not knowing where Bucky was. Turns out it’s even worse when he was just outside the door and down the hall, sleeping on an uncomfortable couch.

You knew that he knew the door wasn’t locked.

Relief and an inkling of regret settled your nerves thirty minutes after you closed the door. He wasn’t going to come in. He was giving you space.

Is it wrong to want Bucky laying here with you, even though your heart wasn’t ready to face him? Maybe you’re being ridiculous. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s an amazing father to Bumblebee. He’s an amazing husband. Work doesn’t consume him and if it does start to become an obstacle in your marriage, Bucky’s quick to rectify the problem.

You inched over onto his side of the bed and buried your face in his pillow, taking in his heady scent. Were you too hard on him? Were you irrational? Bucky can’t help who he is. 

He’s your daughter’s hero.

He’s yours too.

At 2 a.m. you fretfully turned back over to your side of the bed when you heard one of the doors slam shut, ringing out like a shotgun

You’re on your feet and rushing out without a single thought of caution to stall you. Bucky is out there. So is your Bumblebee.

Bucky stood in the middle of the room. Blankets are strewn around and one of them wrapped around his ankle.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

His head swiveled up at the sound of your voice. Empty, calculating eyes snapped to yours.

Something’s wrong.

You tripped back a little, finding your balance against a wall. Fear mounted in your chest. “B-Bucky?”

No reaction.

“Buc—"

In an instant he advanced towards you, stepping out of the blanket as if it was never there. A scream caught halfway in your throat as metal coiled around your neck. Squeezing. Squeezing. Squeezing.

Black pinpoints and stars shaded your vision. He watched you splutter. You’re sure he didn’t feel your nails clawing at his shoulder.

None of the things Bucky taught you about self-defense came to mind. You couldn’t think, but you had to act. Instinctively, you kicked out. One kick landed dead in his hard abdomen. It felt like kicking at a boulder. He coughed out a surprised grunt and his grip slackened. You aimed another kick at his crotch, dead on the center, and the hand around your neck loosened enough to send you scrambling on the ground.

Your lungs scorched. Your palms and knees ached from landing unceremoniously on the hardwood flooring. By the time you began to crawl away, it was too late.

Bucky regained himself quicker than humanly possible. His hot flesh hand snagged your ankle in a bruising grip and yanked you back.

You cried out, hoarsely. “Bucky stop!”

He paid you no attention. Almost didn’t seem to hear you at all.

His hair fell into his face, darkening the mask that slid into place. He barely struggled to pull you underneath him. Strong, thick thighs caged your lower half to halt your flailing legs as he straddled your hips.

The pressure instantly returned. Both hands crushed your windpipe. His fingers dug into your skin. The wedding band fitted on his flesh hand bit deeper than the metal of his cybernetic hand.

In a last-ditch effort, your fingernails impaled his forearm, breaking the skin. Five half-moon crescents beaded up and trickled in lines of scarlet red, slicking along his arm and on your fingertips.

He never flinched.

Tears streamed out the corners of your eyes.

Darkness bled into your vision, starting at the corners and then filling in the rest as the seconds ticked by. Each beat of your heart painfully thudded in your chest, each thump clunking slower and slower. More spaced out.

Numbness spread until you resigned to it.

Your lids slid shut. You didn’t want those eyes to be the last thing you saw. Those arctic blue, barren eyes. Not Bucky’s eyes.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

“Stop it, Daddy! Stop it! Get off of Mama!”

You wrenched your eyes back open in time to see your daughter smacking her father over the head with her rainbow nightlight.

Hope and absolute dread wracked your body as Bucky unclasped his hands and turned to look at the small girl standing her ground behind him, nightlight half-raised in the air for another strike. Tater is in front of her, barking viciously at Bucky.

“Run!” The word tore itself out your mangled throat. “Run!”

Bumblebee watched in horror as Bucky rose to a towering height, and she let out an earsplitting scream as he ripped the light away from her, then gripped the front of her Avengers pajama shirt, lifting her into the air.

“BUCKY NO!”

Past the rush of oxygen flowing back into your lungs and the thunderous beats of your heart, you heard terrified crying.

Your baby.

Wailing. Scared.

For a second, you’re back at the skating rink and your eyes land on Bucky, sitting on the ice, cradling her to his chest. Nothing else mattered.

Bucky frowned.

The first sign of emotion flickered over his features since you came out of the room.

Confusion.

You saw his eyes drop to the ground, saw him shake his head. Then he looked at the girl in his hold.

Recognition.

Grief.

Fear.

Horror.

Agony.

Bucky trembled, slowly and shakily lowering Bumblebee back onto her feet. She skittered around him, putting as much space between them as possible, and stumbled to your side. Tater is still growling at him.

You watched his eyes reluctantly settle on your body, watched his face crumble.

Bucky choked out. “I’m sorry.” He took a step back. He looked at his arms and saw the indents of your fingernails. Saw the imprint of his hands around your neck. Took another step back. “I…I…I didn’t—”

He turned and ran out of the house.

[wickedlehane]

SEND  TRY + A CHARACTER  YOU’D LIKE TO SEE ME ( ATTEMPT TO ) WRITE!

@markedbyangels asked: {TRY + GLORY}

“That little bitch brought a building down on top of me- and she ruined my shoes!”

Glory tromped lopsidedly into the foyer of her mansion, angrily blowing a lock of curled blonde hair out of her face. Her lower lip was fixed forward in a severe pout as she picked gravel and drywall out of her cleavage. “Try explaining THAT one to the drycleaners.”

A pair of warty, gnarled minions in potato-sack robes rushed forward to greet their goddess. “Oh, most luscious and moisturized Glorificus, we are elated to see you-”

“Just shut up! Shut up, will you? Glory needs a bath and a glass of champagne, like, yesterday,” she snarled, grabbing her golden hair in a fist and pulling at it with exasperation. That blonde, frumpish human girl stole her only monk, and now she was how many snapped-stiletto steps backwards on finding her Key?

The cowed minions feverishly nodded and rushed off to draw a standing bath for their master, but not before Glory removed her broken shoes and whipped them towards her underlings. What? One heel was entirely snapped off, making them a little less deadly than usual. With a long-suffering sigh, she pulled herself up the staircase into her ornate living room, about ready to collapse. She’d been buried beneath rubble for almost a day and wanted nothing more than to have this whole Key-finding business over.

“It just isn’t fair,” the goddess whined as she shed the slinky red dress she’d been trapped in. Her minions averted their eyes respectfully as Glory traipsed around in the buff, waiting for her bubble bath. One of the demonic creatures bumped into a wall, eyes closed before his nude master as he tried to scoop up her discarded clothing for the laundry hamper. “I’m being punished for, what? Doing my job too well? Ruling too efficiently? There’s no telling what disastrous mismanagement has gone on at home in my absence. They need me, and I need to be there! It is just soooo unfair.”

“Extremely un-f-fair, your absolute shining radiance,” one gravely voice piped in agreement.

“Ugh!” Slipping beneath the foamy layer of bubbles, Glory sunk into the warmth. “Champagne, now!” 

As it was produced for her, she took the flute glass in hand and let her head loll back against the curved lip of the clawfoot tub. “Why would that girl even want a monk, huh? It’s not like she needs my Key to get home, though I wouldn’t blame her, being trapped in this disgusting little reality.” Glory tossed back the drink with a quick tilt of her wrist, enjoying the bubbles as they popped in her throat. She dropped the glass over the side of the tub, overcome with a disgusting little medley of exhaustion, anger, and relaxation all in one confusing instant as the champagne flute shattered against the carpet floor. With each passing moment, her flesh-bound form was succumbing to the horrifying reality of human fatigue.

“Dreg, I need-” the tired goddess snapped at her minion. She inhaled deeply through her nostrils before producing a whine from her throat. “No, I can’t tell- never tell. So late. It’s- I- she was like a worm. You know?”

The underling Dreg quickly snapped to attention, his hand held firmly over his eyes. “Oh, of course, your deliriousness- I mean, your delightfulness. Glory needs a vessel to devour! Quickly, quickly.” The hellish minions began to move as if electricity had passed through the room. So foolish, of course she would be so tired after a day trapped beneath a fallen building.

Glory’s histrionics continued, escalating in pitch as her scions scrambled.

“Worms, and rain, and spiders down the drain. They’re crawling, and I just can’t stamp them out fast enough! So many pests, they are all going to die.”

The sooner she could feed, the sooner she could focus on the Key. But nothing was going to plan- was Glorificus the only one around here who sensed the urgency of their endeavor?

As the demons scurried, Dreg (eyes still closed) knelt by the tub to soothe the goddess as she tossed about, throwing water over the sides. “I promise you, most unholy uniqueness, you shall have your power, and your key, and your home returned soon. Soon,” he promised, before turning over his shoulder to shout at the others. “Could someone speed it up with the victim-getting?”

Or, heaven and hell help them all, there might not be much of a mansion, a township, or a reality left when Glorificus was through here.

[angrylilfic]

On the Wild Side part 3

Not even gonna cap.... I'm having so much fun writing this series:))))) and I hope you like it too!

(not my gif but I love it)

_____

By Friday, four more earthquakes had ravaged the city. It was early in the morning when the rumbling began, followed by the earthquake alarms. 

Trini snapped up out of bed, feeling ghost pain through the ranger bond. Kimberly quickly woke up as well, breathing harshly. Trini focused on the pain and saw a flash of red and blue in front of the hospital.

“It’s the boys, they’re in trouble.” Trini said, pulling on her shoes and throwing Kim her shirt. 

The girls snuck out through Kim’s window, climbing down the tree next to the house. Zack ran up to them.

“Did you guys feel that?” He asked, helping Trini down from the tree.

“Yeah, it’s bad. I felt the wind blow out of me.” Kim said. Together the three of them ran across town to the hospital. 

_____

When they arrived on the scene, it was like the first battle with Rita all over again. Jason and Billy were being ambushed by two large creatures made of what looked like tiny bees. Every hit the boys threw just fell through them.

Trini felt the thing inside her stir as she watched Billy get picked up and thrown against the entrance sign to the hospital. Trini bared her teeth as she pulled her armor on and ran at the monsters. 

“Trini wait!” Zack called as she started throwing kicks and punches relentlessly. 

She got a couple hits in before the monster let out a howl. The monster split in two and started attacking her on both sides. Trini tried her hardest to avoid getting hit, but she overestimated one punch and the beast hit her square in the chest, Trini went flying backwards and into a car.

“Trin! Baby you okay?” Kim asked, inspecting her suit for any damage. Trini shook her head.

“Watch out!” she yanked Kimberly to the side as a piece of rubble came inches from hitting them.

“Guys we have a problem.” Zack called through the coms. 

The monsters had multiplied themselves. They ripped a hole into the side of the wall and were walking out with a handful of unconscious kids.

“What the fuck?” Jason said as he lifted a large chunk of the wall off Billy.

The team shook themselves off, the monsters were getting away. They ran after them, eventually cornering them in an alley. 

“Got ya! Now drop the kids.” Jason demanded. 

The beasts seemed to smile before a portal opened and someone stepped out. A little boy, not more than 9 years old, his eyes glowing an icy blue. For a moment, Trini stared him in the eyes and they turned a bright yellow, Trini felt the thing in her chest hum. Then the boy’s eyes turned blue again.

 The monsters stepped in and just as quickly as the portal opened, it was gone. 

“Who the fuck was that? What the fuck just happened? Aww man we’re fucked.” Zack groaned as they started back for home.

_____

  The team had all gone back to their homes, but it hadn't even been an hour before Billy called them all to the ship. 

“B, man you’re trippin’ it’s like three in the morning dude.” Trini sighed as they all walked into Billy’s lab.

“I know, I know it’s early but you guys have to take a look at this,” Billy said turning the monitor to them, “Okay so Jason and I were out looking at all the buildings that got hit by the earthquakes, and how they could be connected to the missing kids. We found that all the buildings were connected to some kids in the same hospital.” 

“So? What does that have to do with why those monsters took them?” Zack asked. 

“Well, firstly they weren’t technically monsters, they were made out of synchronized nanobots. Secondly, I can’t find any medical records as to what those kids were being treated for, so I’m not sure why they were taken.”

Jason stroked his chin. It was too big of a coincidence for the wrecked buildings and the kidnapped kids to be related.

“What about the kids missing from school?” 

“All related to families whose houses or workplaces got wrecked in the earthquakes or got sent to the hospital in the last couple days.” Billy replied.

Jason scratched his chin,“I doubt this is over with, but we don’t even know who’s kidnapping all these kids. For now let’s just go home and get some sleep.”

“You too Bil, c’mon let’s go home.” Kim said as they all got ready to head home.

_____

  Trini was falling asleep in class that day, one second they were talking Shakespear, the next her head was rolling onto her desk.

“Miss Gomez, why don’t you tell us what he meant by the end of the play.”  their english teacher, Mr. Cole said standing in front of the class.

“Hm? Um. I think um.” Fuck she was stumped. A couple of the other kids snickered.

Kimberly took pity on her girlfriend and answered the question.

“Well Mr. Cole I think what Trini is trying to say is that when Shakespeare wrote the end of the play, he was trying to convey the idea that even though they both died, in a way it was better for them because now they didn’t have to hide their love.”

“Hm. Yes, thank you miss Hart.” he said, casting a pointed look at Trini. 

The bell rang just in time to save Trini from any more embarrassment.

The girls walked out and headed for the cafeteria for their free period. 

They took their spot at their usual table, Kim sat and leaned her body against the wall while Trini dropped her head on the other girl’s shoulder. Kimberly draped her jacket over Trini’s small frame. 

“You tired?” Kimberly said, rubbing Trini’s head.

“Mhm. Just let me get a quick nap in and I’ll be good.” 

Trini’s nap was interrupted, however, due to the fact that the whole school was rumbling again.

“Guys!” Billy came running into the cafeteria, “There’s some nanobot monsters that are attacking the  elementary school, we gotta go.” 

Trini’s head popped up, Angel Grove Elementary was where her brothers were. The beast was clawing inside her chest, ready to pounce into action. 

_____

  Zack and Jason were already trying to control the monsters when they arrived on the scene. Some of the kids were rounded up into the corner while the boys fought them off, or at least tried.

A scream made Trini stop in her tracks, It was her brothers. She whirled around, the monsters were breaking down the door of a classroom and were throwing kids around. 

“Help! Power rangers help us!” Manny, her youngest brother called, Daniel clinging to his brother. 

The monster lifted its enormous hand, ready to strike. 

A growl ripped from her throat. Suddenly, Trini’s vision slowed, as though she was running faster and everything else was slowing down. Trini swooped in front of the boys, punching the monsters back. She looked down and saw the fingers on her suit had sharpened into claws. Trini swung at the monsters, leaving deep slashes in their bodies, but her inexperience with the claws got the better of her and they got stuck. 

Trini kicked off the monster’s shoulder, releasing her hands and sending it back. 

The monsters got back up with a roar, charging towards her. Trini roared herself. The vibrations sent them flying back. They slunk back into a portal and in a flash, the monsters were gone.

The kids ran up to her, “That was amazing!” they praised her. 

Trini breathed in deeply, the adrenaline leaving her body slowly.

Then everything went black. 

[peterpcrkcr]

new but familiar | p.b.p. imagine

Pairing: third person female readerxpeter (bc it’s clearly a self insert, i’ll say it)

Words: 1.6k

summery: peter is taking a walk, thinking to himself about the world around him, when karen alerts him to some trouble ahead.

ENDGAME SPOILERS INCLUDED BELOW THE CUT!

So this was the new normal, a phrase that had little meaning before the big snap. Well, the big snap and then several smaller, but equally significant snaps that came after. Whatever the case, whatever situation, the world was forever changed. People lost only to come back in this new normal. Their loved ones five years older, five years moved on.

The trees were taller. The wind had changed. With less people the air was cleaner, the water too. But everyone came back.

Peter walked down the street, headphones in his ears trying desperately to get lost in the old 80’s hits. Something about that time period felt familiar. Maybe it was just the good music that felt right. The rest of it was rough, if he was being honest. Not like he was there.

Peter was now 16 again. He hadn't not been 16 during those five years, he'd just been in a sort of deep sleep. A resting place until it was time to wake again. Now he had to adjust with the world that had aged around him. Luckily, most of his friends had also been sent to the resting place. He wasn't left to graduate as the new kid.

Liz Allen was now 21. So was Lincoln and Cindy. Sally was 20 because she was a year younger than everyone else. But the point is they'd grown up in the half a planet while Ned, and MJ, and Peter, and Flash, and Betty had rested.

He shook his head at the thought. To be paused. Life halted. If he had the choice would he have wanted to age? Would anyone want to live in the world where you couldn't hit the breaks and wait for someone else who would never catch up?

“I could just travel back and-” he shook his head again. And what? Grow up again? Going back before the snap wouldn't change the fact that he got snapped in the first place so that idea was stupid.

Maybe he could change when he was born. No, stupid. Then he'd never have met Ned, or MJ.

Maybe his parents would've survived. Maybe Uncle Ben, too.

“No.” He said out loud, gaining the attention of someone at the corner of the crosswalk he waited at. They went back to the attention of their newspaper. Peter peered over their shoulder, the headline:

Avengers Bring Everyone Home, but at What Cost?

Peter grinned, let out a puff of amused air from his nose. That headline was a bit too on the nose itself.

Of course he'd want to have gotten out of the resting place. Right? Yes. Can't be selfish and ask for more time away. The population returning to normal also meant the return of bad. Of evil. Whether he liked it or not, he had to come back. The world needed him, and he'd never admit that, but it was the truth.

Peter made his way across the street, nearly got run over by someone in a car so eager to turn the corner they didn't look out for him. He was quick to adjust, though.

Once across the street he scanned the faces of people. Noticing rather easily if they'd been snapped or not.

People who had been look relieved. Almost excited to be back in the game of Life. Those who hadn't? They looked tired. Still sad, but relieved underneath the exhaustion.

Aunt May looked that way when Peter came home. Smothered him for a week before letting him go to school. Called off of work for the first time in 16 years to care for him, even though he was fine. In all honesty she did it for herself. The one thing since loving Ben that she did only for herself. Her boy had returned. Her sun.

Her son.

A puddle he hadn't noticed soaked his shoe and sock inside. Nothing worse than walking around with a wet sock in a wet shoe. It wasn't like he had been doing anything in particular anyway, so changing into the old suit for the rest of the day wouldn’t be a big deal.

An alley or a porta potty, it didn't matter so long as no one saw him go in. He just figured since the world was so wrapped up in itself and getting by that he could basically get away with changing whenever. Just about wherever, too.

He shoved his clothes in his backpack. Ditched his socks in a dumpster, set his shoes on top of his clothes, like a dork. He didn't think about it at the time, but doing that was just going to make his clothes dirty and wet too. Classic 16 year old boy.

16.

He sighed. Always 16. It felt like he had been 15-16 for years even before the snap, and the snap really just cemented that he would forever be stuck a teenager. Whoever was writing his life really should've figured out how to make what was usually the most upsetting and confusing years in a person's life go by faster because this was getting old.

Thwip.

Out of the alleyway and through the streets where whoever looked up and caught the site of him cheered. It didn't matter if they'd been snapped or not, people cheered when they saw him. He didn't live for the fanfare. He lived because he was lucky enough to. Too many people he loved had been lost to not appreciate every second he was gifted.

Thwip.

Around a corner, another. This was much easier than waiting for the crossing signal. Less death defying, if one could believe it, than using a crosswalk.

The music played in the mask, kept him from focusing too much on his thoughts. The mask was a really a gift in more sense than the literal one. If he didn't have it the world would be too much around to function.

Blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Birds and New York rats and tourists and cabs. A bustling city waiting to burst again. Peter sighed. This was home.

“Trouble ahead.” Karen's voice sounded over the music she'd lowered for Peter to listen. He stayed quiet, followed the ping she'd put on the screens. “Looks like a robbery of an old Oscorp Laboratory.”

“Of course.” He landed near the open hole that'd been blasted or busted in by who he assumed was the bad guy. “Nothing like a universal genocide being reverted to bring out the bad guys.”

He took three confident steps toward the entrance before feeling a shiver course through his body. He spun slightly on his left foot to stand sideways as a body flew from the hole. He watched the man in classic black robber garb roll over on to his stomach to cough.

“There's still three people in there.” Karen alerted to Peter who was just finishing up wrapping the man in webs. When he stood back up again to make his way inside, two other men dressed in black, ski masks and everything, flew out of the open hole in the wall. “One person now.”

“Who is it?” He asked as he webbed up the other two men, head turning periodically to keep an eye on the hole in the wall.

“I don't know. They're not reading on any of my databases. Maybe they're not from this planet.” Karen said, sounding a little worried.

Peter felt that shiver once again and stood, hands at the ready to shoot preventative webs at whatever came from the old Oscorp Lab.

A couple bits of rubble adjusted as the figure came out of the darkness and into the light.

Peter's furrowed brow softened. His eyes widened. It was a girl. Broad shoulders, strong arms. A mask over her eyes a la The Incredibles style. Just a navy blue ribbon with two holes in them to reveal her eyes. She stood at the top of the mount of rubble, hands on her hips, taking in a breath to release it contently.

“Scanning.” Karen said as Peter stood there silently taking the mystery girl in. He started to sweat. Hands shook a little as he relaxed his battle stance. It almost looked like her hair was blowing in a little bit of a breeze. He got lost in it. “She's 17. Her DNA is a match for-”

“Hey, Spider-Man!” She shouted almost accusingly as she stepped down from the accidental stage. He looked around as if searching for who she was talking to, like there was more than one Spider-Man. When she was close enough to for him to notice she was a little bit taller than him he blushed. “What are you doing here?”

“Fighting bad guys?” He suggested, looking around and the three unconscious men webbed up around the two of them.

“No, I just did that. I meant what are you doing in Brooklyn?” She tilted her head, hands still on her hips triumphantly. He finally met her gaze and felt warmth in his heart. Her eyes. They were familiar. Not the color or the size or the shape, but the person behind them. The soul inside.

New, but familiar.

“Where should I be?” He asked relaxing his shoulders.

“Queens.” She said knowingly.

“I mean, Queens has it's crime, but I think I'm allowed to go outside every once in a while, and I do my best work outside of Queens anyway, and what makes you say that i should be in Queens anyway?” He talked a lot when he was worked up. And he was worked up because she knew something she probably shouldn't.

“My grandfather told me about you.” She admitted.

“What about me?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Peter-” Karen said, but he shook his head to stop her.

“You were snapped.”

“Everyone knows that.”

“Does everyone know you're 16?” She asked.

“Wait a minute…”

“Peter, she’s-” Karen tried again, he spoke over her.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I'm the daughter of Michael and Jean Rogers.” She said. His eyes widened even more. “Granddaughter of Margaret and Steven Rogers.”

[catherinewrites]

BNHA OC snippet

This is a part of a story I wrote for my BNHA OC’s. This story is meant to play alongside the events of the story and this particular snippet is during the entrance exams. The OC’s that are in the story or Ryssa, Kibo, and Naya. All were created and are owned by myself and my fiance, who collabed on Kibo. 

Please let me know what you think, whether it is about the characters or the writing style or anything that you want to let me know. I would love any opinions or constructive criticism. Or if you just want to talk about BNHA, I can go on for hours about that story. Thank you for taking the time to read!!! Snippet is under the cut!

The U.A. Entrance exam is today. Kids from all around the world had come to compete to be accepted into Japan’s highest rated hero academy. Only 1 out of 300 students would pass. Naya and Ryssa walk under the huge arch at the front of the school, looking up in awe. Naya had been training for this day her whole life, but until last month, this wasn’t even a possibility for Ryssa. She still didn’t really believe she was here. She didn’t belong here, but Naya wouldn’t let up, so she came along. There were all kinds of students waiting outside the front doors. Naya charged forward, wanting to get to the front of the line, though Ryssa tried to hang back.

Ryssa noticed another student hanging back. She thought she was out of place, but this kid, with his ragged clothes and old tennis shoes, really didn’t look like he belonged. There was a commotion by the door and they were let in to the auditorium to be given the rules for the practical exam. Ryssa and Naya realized they would be in different arenas for the test. Oddly, this calmed Ryssa. She always felt like she had to live up to some impossible goal with her around. She would do her best and she would go back home and not worry about a dream that won’t come true. She knew Naya was a shoo in to be in the hero course. If they let her slip by, then that was their great loss.

Naya made it to her arena and stood with the other competitors. The doors swung open and everyone ran inside, rushing to get at the enemy robots. Naya immediately transformed, her backpack latched across her chest. She became a large tiger, roaring through the crowd, scaring a few other kids as she ran past. Her plan was to just take down as many robots as she could. She would jump on their backs and rip out the wires with her fangs.

Kibo hung back, watching what the other kids did with their quirks. The large tiger threw him off a bit. He wasn’t expecting that. Shaking his head, he ran for the closest robot. Spitting into his hand, he leapt up and grabbed a hold of the wiring and a large electric shock took the robot down. That is the plan then, he thought. “Just don’t lose my cool, I can do this.”

This is how it went while the time counted down. Suddenly, the large 4th type robot was released on the arena. Everyone took off running and Ryssa was close behind, but she noticed a plain looking kid with green hair staring at the robot, she noticed a girl, stuck under the rubble and about to be crushed by the robot. Before she could react, the kid was gone and a second later, the robot had a massive hole in its face, and it was falling backwards. “That kid just did that?” Then she saw him. Falling through the air, his legs and one arm flailing behind him as if they were spaghetti. Did his own quirk do that? She would have to remind Ryssa not to copy this kids quirk. Everyone was just standing around. This kid was going to splatter if no one caught him. So, she jumped, climbing up robot by robot, she reached the boy and snatched him out of the air. She gently laid him on the ground and sniffed him, making sure he was still breathing. Time was called and she ran to transform back and change into new clothes. She got back in time to see Recovery Girl healing the injured boy.

Ryssa was a couple of arenas down. Everyone was excited but there was a particularly loudmouthed kid in the front. He was acting confident, so she went to go check him out. He was yelling about being the best and how they were all extras or something. She had to have a quirk to use, so maybe this kid’s would work. She was sizing him up, when he turned toward her, snarling.

“What the hell are you looking at!?” The fury on his face was outstanding, she looked him in the eye, and activated her quirk, her eyes flashing to grey. “What the fuck?” The kid backed up, looking more confused than scared.

“I hope you have a decent quirk, kid.” She laughs. He snarls again and the bell rings. As the doors open, he blasts his way into the arena and immediately takes down the first robot in his sights. Ryssa runs after him and watches for a second, then attempts to use his quirk. Her hand explodes in fiery heat. It scared her a little bit, but watching him take the robots one by one, she knew this is just what she needed to pass. She chased after, hitting the robots when she could. This power is so strong, of course this kid wanted to go to U.A. and he would exceed. The large 4th type robot was released, and she ran. No way was she dealing with that.

With the test completed, Ryssa met back up with Naya and heard about her weird encounter with the reckless boy.

“THANK YOU FOR PARTICIPATING IN OUR SMASH AND DASH, ROBOT CLASH!!!! The results will be out soon, thank you and have a good day!” With the announcement from Present Mike, they were all ushered back out to the waiting families to head home.

[you-guys--are-losers]

The Darkest Hour

Prompt: #11:

“Hold on, you died.”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t stick.”

Requested By: @maiden-texas

Warning: I ACTUALLY CRIED WHILE WRITING THIS. I DON’T CRY. CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED.

In the darkest hour of Queens, May Parker became the light that MJ clung to like a moth.

Power lines were down, entire streets were demolished. Car alarms screamed in the night for weeks after the first battle, and the air was thick with dust and ash that clawed its way down MJ’s throat with every breath. For weeks, there was no voice that the grainy air did not make raspy and hoarse. Any small exertion sent a tightness through MJ’s chest that was followed by a hacking cough.

May Parker’s apartment was a safe haven now, the only one. Ned was staying there as well, after having lost both of his parents to the same thing that had erased half of the population from earth. MJ spent most of her time with him those first few days, huddled on May’s couch with his hand clenched in hers. He stared straight ahead with hollow eyes at the window, and nothing that MJ said seemed to reach him. She wondered if it ever would.

That day on the bus had only been a week or two ago, and somehow it felt like years.

Ned had explained to MJ what had happened, and the chill that cut her to the bone as she looked at the ship was one that the girl never would be able to describe. When the attacks had begun to take place, slipping away from the school group had not been so difficult. The museum they were visiting had not been so far away from Ned’s house, so MJ had accompanied him home. Turning down Mr. Leeds’s offer of shelter had been a no-brainer, because MJ couldn’t leave her mother wondering where she was.

Her own home had been harder to reach than Ned’s because it was located on the street where the battle had taken place.

By the time MJ got there, the street was empty of the billionaire in a robot suit, the D&D impersonator with an overanimated cape, and the spiderling that MJ cared for more than she would ever admit. The whole of the street was demolished, with broken windows and screaming car alarms and thick smoke filling the air. By then, the ship had withdrawn, but MJ did not think that the Avengers had won. If they had, Tony Stark would be on every screen trying to calm the public, and there would already be cleanup crews in the streets.

No, the fact that the ship had withdrawn meant that the alien life had gotten whatever it was they had come for.

The power was out, and the streets below were crawling with cleanup crews. It had taken days to organize after the event, the horrific occurrence that many had begun to call “The Disappearing.” Those days had been chaos, their own special kind of hell that MJ prayed would never come to her mind again. Sitting there on the couch with Ned, however, it was hard not to think about crawling through debris, sometimes on hand and knees, as glass shards cut her clothing to rags and ash streaked her face. That ash had been someone, once, someone’s mother or son or brother or daughter, and now it had been  reduced to a few dark particles that made MJ’s face as filthy as the rest of her.

When she had arrived at May’s house, the woman had opened the door with a hesitant stance as she used it to shield her body. As soon as she saw it was MJ, however, she unbolted the lock and quickly ushered the battered, bleeding girl inside.

“You’re here,” she had whispered in a voice that was constricted. MJ could not tell if it was the emotion that tightened May’s throat, or just the ashes. “You’re here.” There had been an embrace, one so tight and packed with emotion that it had brought tears to MJ’s eyes. This was not an uncommon occurrence; MJ had grown used to the tears. They did not seem to want to leave her alone. Still, these hurt more than most, because the embrace that would have shocked her once had become a common action in these dark days.

As she stepped over the threshold, MJ’s one-room studio that she shared with her mother looked just like all of the other damaged buildings. Every window had been broken, and there was even what looked like a shard of alien metal impaled in the wall across from a particularly damaged glass pane. The room was filled with dust and debris, and the floor was covered with shards of shattered glass.

The place that was supposed to MJ’s safe haven was damaged, yes. But some small, childish part of her prayed that maybe it would be alright. She and her mother would rebuild, and it would be secure again, the place were MJ could truly find home.

As she entered the room, MJ’s eyes locked with her mothers’. Upon seeing her daughter home, Hannah Jones’s hazel eyes filled with tears in a way that MJ had never seen before, followed by sobs of relief. As hannam embraced MJ, something strange happened. MJ did not pull away in the manner that she normally would, did not try to rationalize the tears away. Instead, she allowed herself to be held as her mother’s tears soaked into her shirt. It took the girl a moment to realize that there were tears in her eyes, too, and that these tears were pouring down her face.

The rioting had stopped, several days later, but only because a new group of people with guns. Law enforcement, or whatever was left, had managed to regroup, as had government officials. There were private lines that they could use to communicate, and the cleanup began slowly and steadily. Civilians were instructed to stay in their homes and sit quiet, and there would be rations distributed until the rubble was cleared away and they could start again.

MJ learned something in those days, the ones spent holed up in a shell of an apartment with Ned and May. She learned that the people who were most useful to the rebuilding after this war were the people who had been alone before it. She had been like that, once… Surviving by herself, without need of anything but that which she could make on her own. And now, she was sitting on the sofa beside a broken boy and a broken woman, and it was their fault that she was broken, too. It was their fault that they had forced their way into her life, their fault that they had given her something to lose .

It was Peter Parker’s fault, because his loss had crippled all of them.

Slowly, those who had already stood on their own two feet managed to rebuild. There was a normal, and it was new. This normal was waiting. They were waiting for the power to go up, waiting to see who had survived, waiting to see if maybe there was an ounce of hope to be had in all of this.

They didn’t have to wait more than a few weeks.

When the knock came at the door, Ned, May, and MJ hopped into their normal routine of May going to get the door while MJ moved Ned to hide with her in the closet. Almost as soon as MJ managed to get both herself and Ned into the darkened space, there had been a call of, “MJ? Get Ned, it’s safe.”

She let out a sharp breath, slowly easing open the closet door. If she was being forced to call for them, May would have called MJ Michelle. It was a system they had set up the first night of her arrival, a night when MJ could still taste her mother’s ashes on her lips. Ned remained expressionless still as MJ lightly tugged on his arm, pulling him out of the closet with her and into the remains of the living room.

Standing in the doorway beside May was Tony Stark.

He was not wearing a suit or anything of the sort. Instead, he wore a simple pair of pants, leather shoes, and a plain grey shirt. Though the clothing was clean, MJ could tell by the grime on his face that Stark had not bathed for days at least. His eyes were sunken and his frame was gaunt. MJ could see a place where his shirt puckered up, and through the thin cloth she could have sworn she saw bandaging.

MJ drew in a sharp breath, and her grip around Ned’s arm tightened. Even in his dazed state, Ned stepped closer to MJ, and May wet her lips. MJ could tell that she was struggling to hold back tears. “Please, sit,” the wavering, raspy voice of May Parker finally managed to force out.

Stark winced, and that was when MJ’s heart sank. Her hand fell from Ned’s arm, and her friend willingly moved, for the first time in weeks, to stumble to a chair. The boy’s dark, hopeless eyes were locked on Stark. “May,” Tony began in a voice that was so gentle it made MJ sick, “I am so-”

“Sit, please,” May repeated, and this time her voice was a little stronger.

“May-”

“Don’t call me that.”

MJ visibly recoiled at May’s outburst, stumbling into the wall behind her. A picture frame that had already been hanging precariously was misplaced by her shoulder, and it crashed to the floor with a shattering sound. Neither adult looked her way.

Stark looked pained, and MJ thought he might vomit. Before he could say anything else, May was continuing. “You don’t know me, Stark, and you don’t know these kids. These kids have been through hell. We all have. You don’t know me, you don’t know them, and you don’t know my Peter-”

Her voice cracked off, and MJ felt herself holding her breath.

“So don’t call me May, and please sit.” As she finished, May’s voice was quiet and hollow. Stark obeyed immediately, taking a seat on the sofa that was spilling out stuffing from four different places.

“Mrs. Parker,” Tony murmured, and his voice was hoarse as any of theirs was. MJ had not considered the fact that The Disappearing might have been an event not native to Earth, but now she wondered. “I’m here to talk to you about Peter.”

May pursed her lips, and for a moment, all MJ could see in her eyes was agony.

“No,” she whispered. “No, you’re not.”

“May-”

“I know how this goes.” Her eyes were empty, and MJ couldn’t bear to look at them. “I know what you’re going to say. Whatever you’ve got to tell me, I’ve heard it a million times before. I heard it when I lost my brother-in-law and my best friend in the same day, I heard it when they told me my Ben was… Was gone. I don’t want to hear it.”

Tony Stark’s face contained more grief than MJ had ever seen before, rivalled only by the hollow pits of May Parker’s eyes. “I know,” he murmured quietly. “I know, Ma- Mrs. Parker. That’s why I’m not going to tell you how sorry I am, because I think you know that.”

There was a moment of silence as Stark beheld May, and MJ could see in his eyes that he was unsure whether or not she would let him continue or just strike him. After a moment, she nodded.

“I’m not going to tell you that he was a hero, because you already know. No one knows better than the people in this room what that kid does- what Peter did every day for people who he never got to hear thank him.”

A sob escaped May Parker’s lips, and MJ found herself crossing the room to the reedy woman. MJ gripped the woman’s calloused hand in her own, and May clung to it like it was a lifeline. She looked down at MJ through cracked spectacles and attempted a smile, one that was lopsided and trembling and so terribly, horribly Peter Parker. A tear fell from May’s cheek and landed on MJ’s neck, but she did not brush it away.

“I am going to tell you that he was-” Tony Stark’s voice cracked, and MJ drew in a slow breath. “He was smart, the same way he always has been. He adapted to things that even I’ve never seen before, fought with allies we only met the day before. He looked Thanos- the one who did this- straight in the eye and used those same stupid comebacks the kid always... “

Tony Stark’s eyes squeezed shut, and he did not continue. For a moment, he just sat there, breathing deeply. Finally, he managed to whisper, “He was scared. He was a kid, and he was scared, and I’m not gonna tell you he faced death bravely because he didn’t. He wanted to keep living, the same way we all do, because that’s human.

“Until the moment Peter Parker died, he was human. And when you’re fighting someone like Thanos, being able to keep your humanity is something that no ordinary boy can do. When he died, Peter Parker was a man.”

Another sob escaped May’s lips, and suddenly MJ was supporting most of the woman’s weight. Her own heart was not beating, or at least not that MJ could feel. There was an emptiness in her chest that she could not hope to ever fill, something that was so dark and consuming that all she could do to beat it back was think about May. MJ’s hand gripped May’s as she gently lowered her into Ben’s old chair, still gripping her hand.

When Ned spoke, she nearly dropped the woman’s hand in shock.

“And he’s gone? You lost against… Against, Thanos? It’s game over?”

Stark’s eyes snapped to Ned, as did MJ’s. Her friend still looked broken, still looked battered. But Ned Leeds no longer looked empty.

Tony Stark gritted his teeth as he looked up at Ned. “No,” he spat, shaking his head. “No. No, it’s not, because if there’s anything I’ve learned in these past few days it’s that time isn’t as permanent as it used to be, and it can change sides. And that’s what it’s gonna do.”

Tony turned to face May, and his eyes softened slightly. “We’re going to fix this, May, or die trying. The original Avengers team is still here, and we made some new friends that have just as much to lose as we do. I’m not saying it���s going to be easy, but the universe is an awful lot of territory to micromanage, and we’re going to use that to our advantage. And I swear to you that I am going to spend every moment-” For a moment, Stark could not continue, and he looked away. “Every moment fighting to get your boy back.”

“Our boy,” MJ corrected. Her voice was hoarse and scraped against her throat from lack of use, but it was loud enough for them all to hear it. “He’s our boy.” May squeezed MJ’s hand as the dark-haired girl swallowed a lump in her throat. “What do we do to help, until then?”

“I can program,” Ned interjected with a grim sort of determination, “and MJ can hack. We go to Midtown, we’re both good with tech. We can- we can go through data, we can gather information, whatever.”

Stark took a deep breath, composing himself as he looked up at them. “I came here to tell you about what happened, but I also came to ask you if you would consider moving to the Upstate facility with me, just temporarily. It isn’t safe for you here, and there, you could monitor situations on the ground.”

“It isn’t safe for anybody here,” May corrected, and her voice was that of a woman struggling to keep from falling apart. “Why should we move upstate with you when all of these people are stuck here, under what’s basically martial law? Can’t you help them, too?”

The accusing bite in May’s voice did not seem to surprise Stark. He looked up at her with eyes that were filled with so much agony that MJ could not breathe. “I can’t,” he murmured. “In times like these, money doesn’t… Money isn’t a bargaining chip that is as useful as it once was. Procedure and paperwork aren’t options for us on the level they once were. I can only help on a much smaller scale. But I can help you.”

May appeared to be contemplating as she drew in a long breath.

“Please,” Stark murmured. “The kid won’t forgive me if he finds out I left you all out here in the middle of this.”

That was enough. It was as if all of the energy in May left her in one gasp, and she slowly nodded. “Alright, “she murmured. “Ned, MJ… Let’s go.”

There was nothing for them to take. Any food that had been in the apartment had either spoiled when the power went out or been stored in hiding places, just in case their home was broken into. MJ had watched out the window as groups of police, people who were supposed to be helping the victims, burst their way into apartments instead to take food with their guns blazing. The government was doing what it could, but there was little it could do to prevent law enforcement from going rogue to steal what they needed for their families. There was no clothing that they could get, other than May. She had kept a packed bag of clothing and necessities that contained almost everything valuable in the apartment. Ned was wearing a too-small hoodie and pair of pajama pants belonging to Peter, and MJ was wearing May’s jeans and one of her blouses paired with her torn jacket and combat boots. That was all that they had, and it was all they would bring with them. The ride to Stark’s facility was silent, except for the sounds of May’s muffled sobs from the passenger seat.

The arrival at Stark’s headquarters marked a new normal, and this one was a little more empty and a little more bearable all at the same time.

May had her own room at the headquarters, but Ned and MJ shared a large one. The suite had two beds and a massive bathroom and everything from a flatscreen to a minifridge. On the TV, there were news channels that were broadcasting in spite of all of the destruction, most of which came from other parts of the country that had not been hit the way New York had. The government was in shambles, trying to figure out exactly how to handle what had happened.

Ned and MJ could only watch the TV for a few minutes at a time before MJ had to shut it off. Most of the time, it was either because they were rattling off a list of the celebrities, politicians, and public figures who had died, as if they were somehow more important than all of the countless others who had faced the same fate.

Another time, MJ had needed to switch it off because the news was covering the chaos in Queens, speculating where the local hero was amidst the chaos. After switching it off, she had gone to the bathroom to vomit into the toilet while Ned held her hair.

The A.I., F.R.I.D.A.Y., told MJ and Ned how to get to the labs at their request. There, the two students found themselves surrounded by the most advanced computers that either of them had ever seen, all powered by their own generators. These, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had informed them, were theirs to use for monitoring of any alien activity on earth. They were also MJ’s only relief from being forced to think about him, about Peter Parker dying light years away from the people who loved him.

The work was therapy. It pushed away all thoughts of that miserable day from her mind, gave her something to work towards with Ned. It was a way for them to find a new normal. Slowly, surely, the days began to blur into one another. The world outside was rebuilding, no matter the fact that MJ’s heart remained in shreds. She still worked, still monitored, still poured herself into the task. But she did not remain in the headquarters at all times, the way that Ned did. Stark had insisted on compensating them a little bit for their work, and as the economy licked its wounds, the currency regained some of its normal value.

MJ went out at night. She drowned in whatever she could find-- dance music, crowded city squares, house parties-- just for a moment, just so she could breathe.

Because whenever she returned at night and collapsed in the bed she and Ned had taken to sharing, she was back in the one-room studio she shared with her mother.

They were huddled in the bathroom, with an emergency radio and blankets, as well as with the lockbox that contained their money and food. The radio whined announcements that were clearly struggling to maintain order, but from the reports of riots and the sounds of gunshots that MJ and her mother could hear from the streets, the attempt to maintain control was failing. Multiple times, MJ and her mother were forced to shut off the radio and shut up when they heard people trying to break down the door. Every second felt like another hour of hell.

The floor was cold and painful beneath MJ, and she could hear the dripping of the faucet, but after a while even that stopped. The pipe connected to it had undoubtedly been damaged, and MJ was left in the dark with only the sound of her mother’s breathing.

All MJ could think about was what was happening beyond these walls. Ned, alone with his family, Peter out in the far reaches of the earth or even somewhere in space-- they were so far away from one another, these three who had taken each others’ companionship for granted so many times. There was a large chance she would never see either of them again, never be able to make them feel any less alone. There were so many things that had gone unsaid, so many choices they hadn’t made yet.

What if Peter didn’t come back, and she never got to tell him that she loved him?

Every hour dragged, and MJ felt herself become more exhausted with each one. They faded into a haze of drooping eyelids and droning radio static and clapping a hand over her mother’s mouth when she heard footsteps outside of the door. Their front door had long since been kicked down, and MJ did not know what would greet them when it was finally safe to exit the bathroom. This was anarchy, and there were no rules now.

Just when MJ was wondering if she would be able to keep going anymore, her mother started to scream.

MJ was roused from a partial sleep by hysterical cries, and she turned to face Hannah Jones as she flicked on a flashlight beside her hands. “Mom? Mom!” she cried out in a voice that was hoarse from thirst. She reached to grab her mother by the shoulder and watched as, beneath her fingers, her mother’s body began to dissolve. Warm flesh turned to ash, and the little bits of what had once been her mother dusted MJ’s arms, coated her throat with every inhale. She was gone.

MJ was alone.

Ned almost always woke her up, but by then the damage had already been done. Each dream only made MJ long for more work, more music, something burning at the back of her throat to wash away the ache. Sometimes, if she snuck a little alcohol, she could sleep without the nightmares.

The Avengers would leave, then come back again. They would plot, they would consult Ned and MJ for any intelligence, and then they would depart again. The cycle was fruitless, again and again and again. MJ began to hear Tony Stark’s words in her head as empty promises as despair ate her alive. She only stayed for May Parker, for going to her room at night and talking in whispers, making sure that they weren’t forgetting him. Part of her thought that, no matter how many missions the Avengers went on, MJ would always find herself in that room again, forcing herself to solidify every chocolate curl and lopsided grin in her mind.

MJ had lost count of how many nights were spent that way when the sun rose over a new New York City.

MJ peeled herself from her bed with a pounding headache the same way she did every morning, making sure to be as quiet as possible as she crawled to the bathroom to retch into the toilet before grabbing her glass of water. By the time she stumbled into the computer lab in a Stark Industries hoodie and leggings, MJ had not checked the news. She collapsed into a wheeled chair the same way that she always did, opening several different windows to check the radar she monitored. It was only when F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice announced, “Opening lab doors,” that MJ spoke.

“Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, Leeds, it was another rough night-”

“MJ.”

The voice that reached her ears caused MJ to freeze. Her mind spun as she blinked at the monitor, struggling to breathe. That voice was one that she had talked about with May for months, remembering the voice cracks and the earnest tone and the way that it sounded when it was choked with emotion. It was a little deeper, a little hoarse. But she knew that voice.

Slowly, MJ turned the wheeled chair to face the doorway, and her eyes locked on him immediately.

He was clad in a different sort of suit, one that was metallic and fit his form perfectly. It was streaked with grime, as was the rest of him. His face was dirty, and there were bruises along his right cheekbone and over his left eye. The brown eyes that met hers, however, did not look like those of a defeated hero. They shone, and she realized they were glistening with tears. His stupid frog mouth was twisted into the lopsided grin that haunted her whenever she closed her eyes, the one that always succeeded in lifting her spirits.

MJ’s voice was the ghost of a whisper in her throat. “H-hold on,” she breathed, her heart racing. “You died.” Part of her wondered if maybe this was just her reaction to having too much to drink the night before.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t stick.”

A sob escaped MJ’s lips, and before she could help it, she was shooting across the room to him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and suddenly her stupid best friend was using his super strength to lift her from the floor and hold her to him. MJ felt hot tears falling from her eyes, and she could feel her damp curls from where his face was pressed to her hair. She was shaking, and she was clinging to him like he was her lifeline. He was here… She was touching him, he wasn’t just a bad reaction to some vodka.

He was home.

“You… You asshole,” she sobbed against his neck. “You absolute asshole, d-don’t you ever-”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he whispered quietly against her hair. “I won’t. I’m home. They’re all home, MJ. Mr. Stark said your mom-”

Another sob, and Peter stopped talking as he held her close. “Hey,” he whispered, and there was concern in his voice. “Are you alright?”

She pulled back, just enough to look up at him as he carefully set her down. She had to admit, the fact that he had lifted her when she had two inches on him was impressive, considering he had just been dead.

“I’ve never been better,” she whispered as she let go of his neck in favor of taking one of his hands. Yes, she was in love with him, but this was about more than that. This was about feeling him under her fingers, knowing he was here and he wasn’t going to go. “You, on the other hand, smell like crap.”

Peter grinned as he used his other hand to brush away the tears that had made marks through the grime. “Yeah, I guess I’d better go-”

“No. You’re not leaving,” she interrupted. “We’re going to go see- see May and Ned. Peter, you need to go see Ned, he’s… He needs you.”

“I know,” he whispered, gently squeezing her hand as they began to walk out of the laboratory. MJ knew, deep down, that he knew how she felt about him, and she knew the same. But they both knew that this was more important. Today wasn’t about what might be… Today was about what was, and about relishing the fact that he was here. For a moment, Peter stopped, tugging her gently by the hand so that she stopped where he could look up at her. “But we’ve got time, MJ.”

MJ took a breath, and for a moment, she just focused on the feeling of his calloused hands, free of the metal suit, in hers. After a long moment, she exhaled, and then MJ stood a little straighter. Her voice held relief, pure and simple, as she repeated his statement.

“We’ve got time.” 

[iamthefandomnerd]

Another Universe.

Hello! I’m so excited! This is my first time putting my writing on Tumblr and I can’t wait to hopefully put more but to be honest I am pretty nervous to do this as well. I wrote this not very long ago and this is a novel I’ve been thinking about writing for quite some time. I’m not entirely sure if this will be an X reader or with the character I made for this specifically, but otherwise, I hope you enjoy this and I take constructive criticism too, but I ask that you please be nice about it and I also don’t mind suggestions on where to take this story. Thanks! 

By the way, might turn into a Kylo ren/Ben Solo story to???? And my writing tends to be on the darker side of things. Just as a warning this prologue contains some depressing themes and the main character having self-esteem issues.  

I also recommend playing this in a loop if you can/want while reading this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQ3poU70uIE

I hope you enjoy! 

Prologue 

My eyes glossed over with a layer of fresh new tears. The little droplets threatening to fall from the corners of, my eyes. I took my sleeve and roughly wiped them away, but to no avail, they just kept returning. Each time more and more escaped the fabric of my sleeve and trickled down my ivory cheeks. The pressure building up in my chest was almost too much to handle. It made me want to rip out my heart and curse why we were given the ability to feel emotions. 

   I choked back a scream of agony and gripped the spot where my heart was. Why must we go through this much suffering? If there really is someone up above why would they throw me into this madness and chaos? It was so unexpected and something that should’ve never been possible. I took in a deep breath to try and calm myself. Hiccuping and stuttering in the process. I regret everything. Everything up to the arguments I had with my mom, my jealousy, me not putting myself out there and actually trying to have the confidence to overcome my fear. I was wrong. So very wrong. I should’ve accepted my normal boring life and just gone along with it like everyone else.

Be careful what you wish for.

   The screaming and shouting from outside the door made me want to curl up into a ball and disappear forever. I shoved my hands into the ground, my fingers gripping the floor the best I could making my knuckles turn white. I’m a coward. All that I can do is run and hide. I have all my life. Nothings changed. If I go out there I will die. I can’t save those people out there. To fragile as they put it. I’ve never been able to prove them wrong as I’ve always seen myself exactly how they have always seen me. A little girl who is lost with no where to go, a little girl who is a damsel in distress and can’t defend herself because she is too sensitive, a little girl who no matter what can’t find her place in all of this madness and has messed up to the point of no return and at the end of that has cost the lives of so many great people. It’s a wonder how I’m even still here.  

   The banging and loud shouts of orders finally reached the metal door in front of me. The troopers weapons pounded on the door as I braced myself. Maybe this is finally it. Maybe after this, I won’t have to worry anymore. I won’t be a nuisance or an embarrassment. I’ll just be gone. An unneeded flame in this place snuffed out. Gone as fast as the snap of someone’s fingers. I laugh a little finally giving into my tears. Maybe dying here will actually send me back home. Little wisps of my dark hair fall on my face. The banging is louder now. Each hit on the door more ferocious than the first.  

   I watch the door as dents form in it. It’ll give away at any time. I raise my head and stare at the door intently any traces of the small laugh or sad smile are gone and are replaced with fear, nervousness, but also acceptance. I guess I’m really doing this. Never in my life would I have thought my death would be at the hands of the First Order. Let alone a fictional universe that I had always wished was real. That millions upon millions of people got excited for when a new movie comes out or gushes about it with friends and random people they meet who also loves the franchise. I was the same way and deep down still am, but after going to hell and back while being in this place I wonder what people would really think of it if they were in my shoes. Would they still see it as the same beloved Star Wars they love? Or would they see it like I see it now? A war zone where there is no mercy to be seen, no happiness, just chaos, and destruction. 

   A bright light hits my eyes for a second and I shield them with my arms. They’ve broken the door. Everything seems to go by in slow motion. I can’t hear anything anymore, everything’s a blur. The smell of things burning, buildings, planes, people is overpowering. I feel the pain of hands gripping my upper arms and the barrel of a blaster against my mid back. Its almost like I’m not in control of my body.  I’m looking through my own eyes, but I can’t move. I can’t do anything. I feel myself being dragged out of the small room inside of the main building. All I see is hell. People fighting, screaming, escaping while they can. The fire has consumed the place while TIE fighters and X-wings take out one another. Blasters are being fired as people are struck down. A once beautiful lush green environment overflowing with a luxurious and peaceful atmosphere has now been demolished and reduced to rubble and a wasteland. How can people be so cruel as to destroy such a wonderful place? What could someone want so badly that they have to destroy places like this? 

   My shock starts to disappear as I keep examining my surroundings. Is this really what I want? Do I really want to leave these people, who are fighting for the galaxy to die while I sit here and actually wish and wait for the bullet to end my life? I really am pitiful. My fist comes into contact with the stormtrooper on my rights helmet as I start to thrash around and scream. He momentarily let’s go which gives me enough time to raise my right leg and kick him In the groin. I yank my left arm free from the stormtrooper on my left and kick him in the chest sending him stumbling to the ground. I pause not knowing where exactly to go until I feel something nudging me on my left calf. I look behind me to see the little droid I’ve come to know and love. BB-8. He beeps at me and zooms past me towards one of the X-wing fighters. 

   I dart pass the stormtroopers on the ground who are slowly comprehending what just happened to them following the little droid. To be honest I never thought the resistance could be overrun like this. While I knew it could happen I figured they would have some type of plan to put into action with an attack like this, but this was so sudden. No one was expecting it and now we’re paying the price. A blast from one of the TIE fighters hits a nearby X-wing sending me skidding across the cement. I winced in pain and from the ringing in my ears and attempted to prop myself up with my elbows. The ringing in my ears slowly died down as my bright blue eyes trailed over to where BB-8 was. The droid was coming over to me as fast as he could and was beeping urgently. I cocked my head to the side and pushed myself onto my hands and knees. All of a sudden I felt it. The blunt force of the butt of a blaster hitting the back of my head, the frantic beeping from BB-8, the pain, and dizziness as I fell back onto the ground. Black dots covered my vision and I started breathing hard. I couldn’t make out what the trooper was saying as I slowly was losing consciousness. At least I tried and had the confidence for once in my life I thought to myself smiling a little as I fully succumbed to the darkness. 

All I could do now was have hope.