#cuz I spent the last hour trying to see if I could either watch it online or buy it on dvd but nope

[bootyful-seventeen]

I love how my dumb ass had never realized that the tv stand/cabinet in the living room was deep enough to fit three towns of vhs tapes. It gets worse when it’s the exact same one my grandma had the big block of a tv in

[inlovewithalcinadimitrescu]

I am NOT a writer but I found this in my notes and I thought, this doesn’t suck that much- I probably won’t continue it cuz I have mixed feelings and I’m not used to writing. English isn’t my first language so if there’s any mistake that’s why. This is Wandanat x Reader btw.

When you find yourself on a mission that went downhill pretty fast next to the last pair you would like to be alone with, Maximoff and  Romanoff, let's just say that it's not your ideal way to spend the weekend. It's not like you dislike them, on the contrary, you love them so much it makes you mad.

Natasha and Wanda had been in a relationship for years now, when you joined they were already together so it was a sight everybody else would say you've grown accustomed to.

How wrong they are. The truth is that you craved to be the object in between their affection. You were so jelous they shared kisses and touches sitting on the couch of the compound,

"Y/n",

You felt so jealous of the affectionate hugs from behind that Natasha loves to give to her lover,

"Y/n",

Jelous of the kisses on the cheek that Wanda couldn't go half an hour without giving to her lover,

"Y/n?"

Jealous of-

"Y/n!"

Natasha's voice was not rough, just a higher tone destined to get your attention, she leaned to your side to get closer to your ear "We lost you for a second there".

You blushed and blinked a couple of times "Oh, sorry, I was just thinking-"

"Yes, we need to do a lot of that to get out of here.” Wanda examined the surroundings with a sharp gaze, she had been shot in the shoulder but she didn't seemed fazed by it. "We should try to round the building, there is a safe house that way into the forest" Wanda says way too calm "Are you sure it's a good idea? We could just try to make the run back to the motorcycles and find a way to communicate with the team." Natasha seemed calm on the outside but you could see the way her eyes gave up the worry towards the condition of her partner. "We can treat Wanda in the safe house, the most important thing right now is to get away from this building, we can't risk either of you getting hurt." Wanda looked at you with a warm smile and those gorgeous green eyes while Natasha just nodded at your words with an unreadable expression.

You took the run, you behind them so if any bullet was shot towards them you'll be the one to receive them. It's worth to say that the powers don't take away the pain, and most importantly every wound you got took a toll on your organism. By the end of the run you looked like you just got out of your grave. Your heart rate would've just have already killed any normal human, your eyes were fighting to stay open, a boiling fever was present, you could barely breathe and your body screamed for a lie down. And lie down you did. The last thing you heard was your muffled name and a rustling of a person reaching towards you.

Natasha caught you just in time the moment you passed out, "Shit, lyubov' we need to lie her down". (love) Wanda seemed more preoccupied over you than over her wounded shoulder. Both of them entered the safe house, Natasha lied you down on the bed while Wanda looked for the first aid kit.

"There, there, Malysh" (baby) Natasha was wiping your forehead with a wet towel to try and cool your body down. "Natasha?" Natasha looked up from your face and watched as Wanda was nursing her own wound, Natasha left the cold towel on your forehead to tend to her partner. Wanda's eyes were fixated on you while her lover took care of her. "She's going to be ok, malysh" Natasha said as she finished putting bandages on Wanda's wound.

Silence filled the room, unspoken words clinging to their minds. "What are we going to do?" Wanda's quesion made her partner stare into the eyes of her lover, the intensity of both green eyes didn’t seem to faze either of them, both of them knew what Wanda was referring to. They both glanced at your exhausted body.

Many hours have the duo spent talking about you, many team movie nights have been spent just admiring you, and many other moments have they tried to reach to you but you always seem to be moving on the opposite direction.

Your little secret have been out of the box for a while, one day Wanda heard your thoughts about being with them, she couldn't have been happier to tell her partner that both ways reciprocated, since then they have been trying to get closer to you. "We have to tell her." Natasha interrupted the train of thoughts they both were in.

And that’s it

[klonoadreams]

I just- I NEED more about Jacq and Scarnoa cuz they look like a mess together, and Jacq sounds a minute away from hiding under his desk-

they look like an absolute mess together, especially when Scarnoa is still a recent addition to the academy and has gotten her hair cut short by Nemona because she thought it'd be easier that way, never mind that Mimi was going to do her best to save as much of her hair as possible. RIP.

Scarnoa might not be the best at keeping it together, but when it comes to lab wear, she's just "CLOSE TOED SHOES DAMMIT" (that is the VERY least he can do, and HONESTLY, he should since someone could step on his foot)

Jacq literally hiding under his desk like, he didn't expect this pipsqueak to be as scary as Tyme. LIKE... "it's just for this class..."

since they aren't working with anything dangerous (or chemicals), it's just biology class. BUT NOPE, SCARNOA GIVES NO SHIT.

The only time Jacq is allowed to wear his chanclas is when he's outside of the lab. Sometimes gets bonked upside the head by a loose chancla, coming to you live from Scarnoa herself.

Probably the most vocal about teh Pokedex stuff like...PICNICS?? WHAT ABOUT DAYCARES???

"Oh they exist, though this is more or less convenient for our students and those on the go, here in Paldea."

Like, gotta make your mons comfortable. But like... "Is it ONLY picnics???"

Jacq trying to ignore the toddlers in the room who are just as curious "Nn...Nooo - listen, this is something more advanced, so I'll get back to this topic."

Because I have thrown game mechanics to the side when it comes to breeding. Unless otherwise, you can get a Pokemon taking after either parent in terms of species. Very rarely, you'll get an actual hybrid (low chances, but it happens and it's not recommended to just BREED for this)

Some Pokemon are born from eggs (the real mystery is how eggs mcfucking function because of how long it can remain dormant), others are born live, some are both (still a mystery of what determines this and why), and then you got something like a Polteageist spawning Sinistea with a few teacups. :V

It's 3 am and Jacq gets woken up by his Rotom Smartphone because Scarnoa received a random egg in her fucking picnic basket LIKE "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS"

Jacq: yeah that also happens....please, it's 3 am - WHY ARE YOU AWAKE?

Scarnoa: I was hungry. also, I just slid down a slope and spent the last five hours trying to find a way back to civilization.

Jacq: You could've called a taxi.

Scarnoa: oh....I KEEP FORGETTING ABOUT THAT.

Jacq regrets ever putting himself in her contact list, as it was he who handled everything. Also the egg really is just a rando egg that some Pokemon dropped off in the basket while Scarnoa and the others weren't watching.

It's a Nacli in case anyone was wondering. Sometimes Pokemon see Pokemon Trainers and go "have an egg."

or sometimes you also get Bombirdier causing chaos by dropping shit from its pouch and in that confusion, just leave an egg behind. Gets a kick out of people's reactions lmaooo

[sukirichi]

sweet lies [02]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. explicit smut, slight body worship, public sex, dirty talk, praising, toxic megumi, fwb dynamics, slight angst, body marking, sukuna bullying megumi, age gap, scratching, mentions of oral (m receiving) and mutual masturbation, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 also UHM do you guys want me to make the ending angsty or fluffy? i wrote out two versions so LOL let me know what you think! we’ll get more of the megumi scenes on the next chapter though~

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Sukuna isn’t kidding when he said he’ll have you unable to walk by the end of this.

You’ve lost count of how many times you guys have fucked.

Once more in the stalls when you thought of repaying the favor by sucking him off, followed by him growing impatient and hauling you inside his car. Both of you were too tired to go for another round, but were still very much addicted for the other’s touch that mutual masturbation seems like the best option.

Thankfully, Sukuna’s cut his nails, so having three of his fingers buried knuckle deep in you feels like absolute heaven. He’s not complaining about your smooth hands wrapped around his shaft either, especially not when you’ve had enough practice with Megumi to know just how to make a guy lose his mind. By the time you’ve made it back home, Sukuna’s grown hard again, too impatient to make it to the bed before he just fucks you raw against the wall. You’re trembling at his hold, left with no choice but to trust his strength to drop you on his cock and bounce you to his pleasure.

It’s a miracle you’ve made it on the bed.

His digital clock reads a quarter at three in the morning, and for a moment, you worry about how tired you’ll be in class tomorrow when Sukuna’s large hands grips your thighs sharply.

“Goddamn,” he hisses through clenched teeth, chuckling at the irresistible sight of your breasts bouncing before him. Limbs tangled, minds controlled with the primal need to fuck, and moans shared with his deep grunts – you somehow end up on top of him, your thighs feeling like they’re on the verge of giving up as you continue to ride his thick length.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he slaps your ass and causes your hips to rut deeper, forcing that delicious curve of his cock to meld with your walls. You throw your head back, palms planted on his chest, focused only on that burning pleasure between your thighs. “I could fuck you all night long.”

Even though you truly have no wish to, you shake your head, fingers balling into a fist. “I have class tomorrow, need to wake up early,” you protest, the words falling into deaf ears as Sukuna thrusts up into you. He must’ve noticed how you’re growing tired and took matters into his own hands, feet grounded on the mattress to pound deliriously into you. You’re debating whether to be thankful or frustrated he still has so much energy even after hours of fucking, but it honestly doesn’t matter. You’re falling into his chest, arms slipping on your equally sweat-covered bodies. Right now, you just wanted to cum – once more, again, one last time! “Ah, Sukuna, t-too much!”

“Too much?” he laughs and tangles his hand to caress your scalp, the gesture too soothing that you almost forgot he’s fucking you into oblivion. “Want me to go slow?”

“No…”

“Thought so, sweetheart,” his grin is absolutely cocky as he bends his knees in a fold, pushing you until your back rests on his muscular thighs. Your mouth falls open at his hands wrapping around your threat, keeping you right there, hips flat and grinding on his cock. “Come on. Come for me,” Sukuna urges, tightening his hold around your neck a little harder.  

That’s all you need for your vision to blur and see stars, your body’s shaking uncontrollable. He’s thrusting with all his power and energy that it feels like you’re nothing but a hole on top of him, tongue falling open in a wanton manner as your drool trails down your chin.

You look filthy, you feel filthy, and yet, Sukuna sees it entirely different.

“So – fucking – gorgeous, fuck. I woulda fucked you sooner if I didn’t feel weird about it.”

“What?”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart,” he smirks at your half fucked out state. Sukuna rolls his hips in such a mind numbing manner that you end up staring at the ceiling, trying your hardest to decipher the colors of his room to get a grip of yourself. But he feels so hot, cock throbbing and pulsing inside you, your puffy lips encasing him with a translucent ring of cum and it feels so fucking good you don’t really understand what he’s saying anymore. “Did you really think I never saw you in my dreams?” he slaps your ass again, the reflexive response of tightening around him pulling a deep groan from the beautiful man beneath you. “I have such a sexy roommate, I couldn’t help it.”

“Then why didn’t you – ah, right there, shit – tell me?”

“Cuz,” he snickers and finally lets you breathe, your pupils blowing wide from the sudden flow of air. Sukuna kneads your breasts greedily, never stopping his mind-numbing rhythm of ramming deep into you. Your body burns, your thighs ache, your pussy feels sensitive but you can’t find the energy to stop him. Instead, you fall prey, failing in your mission to keep him wrapped around your fingers because now you’re wrapped around his cock, and you were quite fucking addicted to it. “You’re my friend’s student. Felt so fucking wrong.”

“What’s the difference now?”

“The difference is,” Sukuna’s face contorts into something of discomfort for a moment before he leans forward, his sturdy grip homing in on your hips again. You feel his searing breath on your ear, so parching it puts the warmth of your pussy to shame. “Having you like this has never felt so right, and I’ll keep fucking you if you let me.”

“I-I’d let you,” you concede absentmindedly and capture his lips for a sloppy kiss, tongues giving up on a battle of dominance. You’re always so clingy when you’re about to come, something Megumi never fails to chastise you for, and you fear Sukuna might push you away as you wrap an arm around him, nails painfully scratching down his back. Red marks leave a trail on its wake until his blood pierces through the sheets, the pain manifested through the increasing roughness of his pace. Now it’s your turn to whimper in his ear, pulling the man close and tugging harshly at the ends of his hair. Gosh, were you actually crying? “Sukuna, I’m close! Yes, yes, right there!”

Sukuna groans at the erotic sounds you reward him with. “Come for me, that’s right, ohhhh,” he stills inside you, his seed spilling deep inside you. You wince at the burst of warmth spreading all over your belly and Sukuna chuckles at your bulging belly. He presses down on it to coax his cum to trickle all over his cock, and he’s fucking filthy – you learn easily – to watch you make a mess on his cock with a childish smile on his face.

You push yourself off him and fall to his side, him following suit not long afterwards. The room feels completely stuffed from your intense fucking, the bruises on your body and scratches on his back a huge attestment to that.

Your legs remain wide open as you clench around nothing, his cum oozing out like a waterfall. Sukuna (that damned pervert) dips two fingers into your hole for one last moment just to drench his fingers in it, his eyes lit up in wonder while he lets it web around his fingers. You snicker at his actions and roll to his side, eyes fluttering close from the wave of exhaustion that comes into full force.

The lingerie set you intended to wear for Megumi was now ripped at the other side of the room, discarded, forgotten – merely evidence of a moment that had never been given to him.

Oddly enough, you don’t feel bad, not even when Sukuna faces you, his cheeks squished by his soft pillows. “I’m spent. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired. My gym sessions can’t compare to this.”

“You go to the gym?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t born this gorgeous, you know. I had to work hard for this,” Sukuna gestures to his body. You can’t help but follow the gestures and admire the hard planes of his muscle ripped above one another, the smatter of dark hair leading down his hips adding to his already immense sexual charisma. It makes you want to jump on him all over again, and you have to bite your lip to resist that urge, rolling your eyes at him in favor of letting him know you could totally go for another round.

“Dork.”

“Got me laid though, was worth the effort,” he jokes, and you both laugh.

It’s actually…weird, to laugh so casually with someone like this. It might be normal for Sukuna in his past sexual endeavors, but it’s totally a different thing for you. You and Megumi had never even bothered with aftercare. As long as he’s satisfied himself, he’d clean himself off in the bathroom and wear his sweatpants, winking at you before he leaves you alone all over again. The memory – albeit not really a regrettable one – is still painful each time you’re reminded you’ll keep coming back to him.

But are things different now? Could you go back to Megumi? You only ever wanted to fuck Sukuna because you’re sad and horny, but it wouldn’t be fair to him, especially when your roommate has been nothing but nice to you. Besides, him being a little more decent doesn’t immediately equate he’s different than Megumi.

For all you know, you could just be another cheap fuck. Sukuna is older and sexier, after all, he’s clearly had a lot more experience than you do.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna rests his head on his palms, elbows flat on the bed as he turns to you. The expression on his face is unreadable, but there’s some sort of softness behind it – a softness you’re not really familiar with.

“Hey. I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, not everything, anyway, but whatever we have right now, I want you to know it’s not because I see just as a pretty pussy, okay?” he says with a straight face, but you really shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up because Sukuna smirks, mischievous eyes darting back and forth to your soaked pussy and bare breasts. “Although you do have a pretty pussy. Can I eat you out again?”

With that, you snatch the pillow underneath him and whack it straight at his face. Sukuna laughs at your protests, the sound growing louder and a lot more mocking the harder you hit him. “Gosh, Sukuna, shut up!”

You end up hitting him way too many times in the face that he can’t get his words through, and before you could react, Sukuna’s ripped the pillow away from you. He cages you in his arms and hovers over you once more, his boneless dick grazing the insides of your thigh. It’s not meant to be sexual, and nothing about his stance gives off anything that shows he wants to do it again, but you can’t help but feel aroused, shifting your legs up and down the bed as you squirm.

“Seriously though,” he repeats, “We can be casual, or this could be a one time thing. Card’s all yours to play. If you want to forget everything tomorrow, I’d gladly do it. Let’s just go back to the way we were-”

“Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Did you really think I was only using you to distract myself?”

Sukuna’s lips flatten into a line. “I’m not stupid,” he says somberly, “I could tell you were still thinking about him. Not that I mind, though, you can’t stop yourself from loving someone,” Faintly, you’re distracted by his thumbs rubbing at your pulse point. It’s so lulling you want to fall asleep, but Sukuna isn’t done talking. “My point is…you don’t have to worry about being weird with me. We could just be friends with benefits, if you want, and not the kind you have with your boy toy either. ”

His blatantly catches you off guard and your eyes widen before they narrow at him, trying your best to hide your embarrassment. If Megumi was painfully honest, Sukuna’s ridiculously blunt that his mere words make your heart do weird things you’d rather not feel.

Careful, you remind yourself, Megumi is the one you want. You have to keep reminding yourself that before your feelings get the best of you. It’s Megumi, it’s always been Megumi and it always will be Megumi. Sukuna is just your roommate who’s nice enough to take your mind off things. You only wish you weren’t lying too much in case he gets the wrong idea you’re leading him on, but then again, isn’t that what you’re doing?

Friends with benefits or not – you still have no plans on getting involved with this guy any longer.

It’s always Megumi. You just really needed a quick fuck, someone whose dick didn’t belong with the guy you’re so hung up on over. The change feels nice and you definitely feel a lot better than the last time you met Megumi, but this guilt…it tastes bitter on your tongue, too heavy to swallow and ignore. It’s always Megumi, you tell yourself again in an attempt to relieve your pain.

Though it doesn’t subside and you huff in exasperation, turning away from Sukuna. You can’t stand looking at him right now.

“I’m not,” you mumble weakly, but the tears – the guilt, the heartbreak of not being Megumi’s lover, the regret and the ironic need to be closer to Sukuna feels all so confusing – all threaten to burst through. You don’t want him to see you cry, that would be lame, so you scoot closer to him and kiss his shoulder as you shyly ask, “C-can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “You don’t have to sound too nervous to ask.”

“Sorry, it’s just-”

“He never does that?”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not him,” Sukuna answers confidently, surprising you when he grabs your ass to press you flush against him. You’re both sweaty and hot to the point it’s uncomfortable, but Sukuna smells so sweet with his lingering cologne that you can’t help yourself from planting your face in his neck, breathing in the little hums he makes. Sukuna kisses the crown of your head – which is a little too sweet than you’d like – while his other hand runs down your back in a slow, sensual manner. Hell, it feels close to body worshipping, and you hate that you silently want more of this. “I’d cuddle you every day if you asked me to.”

“You’re surprisingly sweet,” you voice with a smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles from the low laughter, and like that, you cling to him like he’s the only sturdy pillar in your life. It’s pathetic, maybe even desperate, but if he doesn’t mind, then why should you?

However, the moment is quickly ruined when the bell rings. “Shit, I forgot he was coming over!”

Sukuna glares at the door and holds you tighter, almost possessively, and refuses to let you go even as you squirm under him. “At three in the morning?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to meet him right now,” you groan helplessly.

Sukuna shoots you a blank look after that, then shoots out of the bed in an instant. You watch as he quickly dresses up in a fresh pair of sweatpants, grabbing a random hoodie from the back of his chair, presumably to hide the scratch marks. You have to hide your smile behind your hand because he looks so drool-worthy with marks littered on his already marked skin, and the fact he lets you mark him is even hotter.

He pauses at the door for a moment, pointing a finger at where you peered up at him curiously. “Stay there. I’ll talk to him and say you went out or whatever. Just make sure to silence your phone in case he calls. Better yet, turn it off.”

Sukuna closes the door behind him, already on the way to the entrance just as you press your ears against the door to eavesdrop. There’s a slight shuffling before the door unlocks, then, “Why the fuck did you lock-” Megumi pauses in his words, and you can perfectly picture his infamous scowl painting his handsome features already. Gosh, you wish you could actually see it, but if Megumi catches you sleeping with someone else, he might totally lose interest in you. That’s not something you could afford to happen.

“Oh. You’re her roommate.” You snigger at his usual what the fuck tone – how Megumi of him.

“Hey, kid, it’s a little too late for a visit, don’t you think?” Sukuna taunts, and it takes everything in you to not burst through the door at that moment. You’re stuck between wanting to laugh and crying, mostly because you would love and hate for Megumi to get riled up. “Do your parents know you’re here? Kids shouldn’t be out this late.”

“I’m not a fucking kid, I’m in uni,” he defends, “Do you know where Y/N is? I need to talk to her.”

Deciding fuck it, you open the door by an inch, just enough to peek. As expected, Megumi is glaring behind Sukuna’s shoulders in search of you. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s completely calm, checking his nails boredly as if Megumi isn’t fuming in front of him. And boy, do you know how much Megumi hates being ignored. “Oh, I think she went out, I don’t know why though. House was empty when I got here.”

“She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

At Megumi’s imposing tone, Sukuna tilts his head to scrutinize Megumi. Now that you’re seeing them together, Sukuna’s twice the size of Megs, their height and shoulder width too different to start comparing. But knowing Megumi, he’s not going to back down from a tattooed guy twice his size, not even as he sarcastically remarks, “Ain’t you her friend? She should be telling you that kind of stuff.”

Truthfully, you expected he would put up more of a fight. The two of them share a heated staring competition before Megumi scoffs, the first one to look away. “Whatever,” he dismisses, “Tell her to pick her damn phone up. I’ve been calling for the past hour.”

“I think I should tell her to get better friends.”

“What was that?”

“I said get home safely,” Sukuna chirps. Even with his back turned to you, you could tell Sukuna’s just further pressing his buttons with a grin that’s not meant to be inviting at all. Just when you think it’s done, however, Sukuna finishes off with, “Kid.”

Megumi rages. His blue eyes flame into something feral, his fists balled at his sides. He’s always had a temper issue and you nearly reveal yourself to stop whatever fight is about to ensue, but Sukuna’s already closing the door, ridding any opportunity for the younger one to retaliate. At the sound of the door closing, Sukuna leans against the door, his smile still plastered on his face as if he knows you’re watching the whole time. He meets your eyes from the slight peep of his door, waving his hands sarcastically.

“Sukuna, you didn’t have to be so mean.”

“Sorry,” he isn’t apologetic at all. “Next time I’ll be nicer to your asshole crushes,” he adds with a slight roll of his eyes and you punch his chest playfully. You don’t stop him from grabbing your wrists to embrace you in a hug that doesn’t seem so platonic – but not so suggestive either. Sukuna rests his chin on top of your hand while he sways you both side to side, his voice muffled in your hair. “I understand why you’re attracted to him though. He’s really handsome.”

“Yeah, he is,” you agree sadly, thinking of how much it’s really all a waste Megumi has to be like that. “Just sucks his personality ruins everything.”

“A pretty face is always deceiving,” Sukuna suddenly pulls away and holds you an arm’s length away.  “Hey, want to have early breakfast?”

“I think that would be late dinner,” you frown at him.

“Whatever, food is food,” he responds rather excitedly, and you watch as Sukuna rummages through the fridge. Now that you think about it, having sex so much really took a toll on you, and your stomach grumbles loudly. Sukuna hides his chuckles through the fridge but you hear him anyway, shouting at him that you’re not hungry. “Wasn’t asking, sweetheart. Now go get cleaned and changed, I’ll make something for you.”

If anyone were to tell you that a good fucking is all that’s needed for you to immediately form a new kind of friendship with your roommate, you’d call them weird. Sukuna isn’t necessarily out of reach, you and him just simply didn’t cross paths.

But now, you’re dressed comfortably in his boxers and the oversized shirt you stole from him, eating the slightly burn cheese sandwich he’s made, sharing conversation and laughing with him like you’ve been doing it for such a long time. Your sandwich is actually half forgotten on the plate as you whack your palms on the counter, “That’s how you and Prof Gojo met? I never would’ve expected you guys fought over a girl!”

“He was fucking annoying in high school,” Sukuna grumbles over an angry bite, “He was getting all the girls that when someone confessed to me, the hottest chick, no less, he straight up punched me in the face,” you laugh as you imagine the memory of a younger, already rebellious looking Sukuna getting smacked by the even more intolerable Gojo Satoru. Sukuna is lost in his own memories as well, shaking his head from around the last bites of his bread. It’s clear he hates the burnt crust judging from the way he turns a little green, but he’s bragged about his cooking skills so proudly that he has to save face in front of you. “Ah, such good times,” he muses before wincing at his own words, dropping his bread in disgust. “Damn, I sound old, don’t I?”

“You’re only like, five years older than me, it’s fine,” you giggle, “I like the maturity that comes with older people. You’re a lot easier to be with than guys my age.”

“Please,” Sukuna smirks, “Just say you like fucking older men. I won’t judge.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would be jumping over the counter to strangle your roommate who’s now running like hell, your laughter bursting through the once silent apartment, you would call them a liar. But now, you and Sukuna are panting on the floor, too tired from sprinting all around before calling it quits. Maybe it’s a lie – maybe this connection will never really be that much of a big deal – but as long as this lie and play pretend of friendship lasts, you’ll just enjoy every sweet moment of it.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed) (bold can’t be tagged) @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma​ 

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request the Obey Me guys as well as the Now Dateables?

Perhaps M/C crawling into bed with them wanting to be held and to be touched.

Perhaps a little nsfw added in 🤤😉

note: this is the only imagine/scenario I will do for all 11 boys. cuz I’m a thirsty bitch. the rest of the time we will stick to the rules of HCs only.

Additionally, the plot has been changed slightly to ‘coming to their room at night’. Sorry. If you want NSFW stuff for a specific boy, based on the provided content, I’ll do it but 11 boys is too much even for my thirsty trappy ass.

Obey Me Boys + MC Crawling into Bed with Them

Lucifer

Lucifer sighed over his paper work. Would his turmoil never cease? 

Sometimes he felt like he had fallen into a lower level of the Devildom. Like the 13th circle of hell where the preferred torture method for lost souls was endless paperwork. A modern day Sisyphus, only instead of a boulder it was forms.

He heard the door to his room quietly click open & then close. He doesn’t look up from his paper work as he knew who it was. There was only one person, ok maybe two, who would come into his room this late at night without knocking. “What is it [Y/N]?”

“I was um...wait, you wear reading glasses?”

Lucifer frowned and looked up from his paper work now. “Magical reading glasses. For reading magical text.” They were required to read some of the magical scripts he was combing over. “What is it [Y/N]?”

The human squirmed a little when he asked again. Seeming to think over the answer, or more precisely how to explain it. “I couldn’t sleep.” They finally confess. “I was wondering if I could stay in here with you, but....you’re busy.”

Lucifer arched a brow slightly, but then moved some of the papers he had completed to make space for them. “Come on. I won’t be much longer.”

[Y/N] smiled at him and scampered over. Crawling in under the silk sheets, and as close as possible to him with him on top of them as they could. “Thank you Lucifer.”

“Of course, my dearest one.” He replied with a soft smile, leaning down to kiss the top of their head before returning to his work. Renewed in his commitment to get this done so he could spend the night with [Y/N].

Mammon

It was late. It was almost 3:00 in the morning by the time he got home, and it had been a shitty night.

Mammon had been at the casino. Gambling, drinking, dancing, the usual. His luck turned sour around 11:00 and, stupid Mammon, had spent the remaining four hours trying to turn it around. That of course didn’t work so now he was even more broke, defeated, and feeling like crap for his failure; regretting Lucifer finding out and making him feel worse. Fuck it had been the worst night.

He rounded the corner to his room and looked up in surprise to see [Y/N] at his door. “What are you doing here?” His voice seemed to surprise them too as they jumped a little before turning to him.

“Oh I was…coming to see if you wanted to hang out?”

“Hang out?” Mammon repeated with an arched brow. “Ya know it’s like 3:00 in the morning, right?”

“O-Oh…is it? I guess I miss read the time.” [Y/N] began to fidget, then muttered some apology about going back to their room.

The demon reached out and caught their hand before they could get far. “Hey, what’s wrong? Nobody comes out here in the middle of the night without a reason.” Or they were out super late like him.

[Y/N] looked down, then decided to tell the truth. “I couldn’t sleep. So I wanted to see you.”

Mammon blinked behind his shades. He hadn’t been expecting that. Now it was his turn to fidget as he realized out of all the people in the world, [Y/N] had chosen to come see him.

“Yeah well…of course ya’d come to the Great Mammon for help. I uh…guess you can stay in here with me tonight.”

He showered to get the smoke & stink of shame off before crawling into bed with [Y/N]. His little human already drifting off just being in his covers. Mammon wrapped his arms around them and held them close. Maybe it wasn’t the worst night after all.

Levi

Of course he was awake when [Y/N] came to his room. The latest install of Kenji Momotaro: Demon Slayer Warrior Prince had just been released that day, and Levi he been playing it since he had gotten his hands on it. He wouldn’t be sleeping for a while.

When he heard the knock on his door, initially missing it over the sound of his game and tunnel vision, Levi paused for the first time in hours to go see who it was. “[Y/N]-chan?”

“Can…I stay in here with you?” They asked. Catching Levi by surprise. “I can’t sleep in my room.”

The blunette blushed violently, and covered his face. “Y-Y-You….You want to sleep in here with me??”

“Is…that ok?” They asked cautiously. Seeming let down by his reaction.

“No. I mean! Yes! W-What I mean is, I’m not going to bed right now. I’m grinding through my new game so….you might not be happy in here.” Plus, his bed was a bathtub. Which was only comfortable to him.

“Oh. Well…I don’t want to mess up your game. If that’s more important to you.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Levi outburst. Then quickly covered his mouth in embarrassment. “I…I just don’t think you’ll get a lot of sleep in here. I only like my room after all.”

“I like your room.” If Levi turned any redder, he was going to get a nose bleed. “It’s dark, which is nice. Plus the aquariums are really soothing. And…you’re there. I just wanted to be around you since I couldn’t sleep, but I guess that’s silly.”

The demon had to cover his mouth again. This time over threat of nose bleed. He was so red from embarrassment, but also incredibly moved by [Y/N]’s words, that he quickly responded, “you can stay with me.”

He moved aside and let [Y/N] in. Leading them over to his game area where he laid out some plushies as a bed, and pulled out a blanket to cover them. “I-I-I…I’m gonna keep playing since I’m not tired. But I’ll put my headphones on so I don’t disturb you. Y-Y-You can lay down here and i-i-if you fall asleep I won’t mind.”

“Thanks Levi.” He had to gulp at the cute sleepy way they said his name, before they tucked in and he went back to his game.

He couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the game, with [Y/N] so close. Choosing to use his leg as a pillow. Eventually he gave up and leaned back against the edge of his tub, not daring to disturb them and actually getting a good night sleep as well.

Asmo

There were few things that Asmo considered sacred. Love. Vitality. The Louis Vuitton spring collection.

But the one thing he considered sacred most of all, was his beauty sleep regiment.

The Avatar of Lust had a strict sleep schedule to give his body the best rejuvenation possible, and amplify his beauty. Everyone knew about it, and choose to leave Asmo alone; per his wishes.

Which was why it was so frustrating when his rest was disturbed by a knock at the door.

Asmo grumbled under his sleep mask at the light rapping that wouldn’t go away. Irritated by the noise, and now the worry lines whoever it was was putting into his forehead. He pushed his mask up to his hair line and got up out of bed towards the door. “What?!” He said in a not cute, very moody outburst when he opened it. Seeing [Y/N] standing there, startled by his ugly display. “Oh, [Y/N]-kun. It’s you.”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah it’s me. Sorry to wake you, I’ll just…go.”

“Wait [Y/N]! I’m sorry. If I had known it was you paying me a late night visit, I would have been much nicer and answered the door sooner.”

“Well I….couldn’t sleep so…-“Ahhhh~! You couldn’t sleep so you decided to come to me?? How naughty!”

[Y/N] frowned and turned to leave, but Asmo apologized quickly for being cheeky. “Did you want to stay with me tonight? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He could tell he was right, but the human was second guessing themselves on coming here. “I promise I’ll behave. Really.”

[Y/N] seemed to trust them, and came into the room & into bed with Asmo. He was practically giddy with them being so close, but was true to his word and supplied no funny stuff for the evening. Just rest and cuddles.

In the morning, he couldn’t wait to tell his brothers how he slept with [Y/N] last night. Causing quite the intentional misunderstanding and ruckus over breakfast that day.

Satan

Satan was getting ready for bed. Pjs on, teeth brushed, uniform set out for tomorrow, and on his bed reading one last chapter of his latest book, when he heard the knock at the door.

At first he thought it was a branch hitting the glass of his window. But when he heard it again, he knew it was at his door, and had a very The Raven moment before he went to answer it.

“[Y/N]? What are you doing here? It’s so late.”

“I know, I know,” the replied, scratching the back of their head. “I just…I couldn’t sleep. I tried but I just couldn’t get to sleep, and wanted to see you.” They look up at him with big doe eyes and ask, “can I stay with you tonight?”

Of course, he couldn’t say no. Not with a look like that. Or more importantly, he’d never say no to [Y/N]. Satan offered them a soft smile and nodded before letting them in.

“What were you reading?” They asked, as the climbed into bed first. Watching Satan put his book away for them.

“Oh, just a new fiction series I found. Simeon recommended it to me.” He said as he climbed into bed as well.

“What’s it about?”

He told them the premise of the story, and eventually read aloud the first few chapters to them as they curled up beside him. Falling asleep soon after.

Satan smiled again, and put the book back away, before leaning down to kiss their forehead and curl in beside them. Ready for bed now.

Beel

It was pretty late when he heard the knock on the door. And a miracle he heard it at all.

Belphie was the sleeper out of the two of them, but Beel wasn’t exactly a light sleeper either. Between his workouts, large meals, and having to get up early for his morning workouts, the red head was usually dead to the world when his head hit the pillow. But, still, when he heard the quite knock on the door he woke up. 

If he were a thinker like Satan or the others, he would have thought that it was maybe their bond that woke him. Instead he just trudged half asleep towards the door to open it. “[Y/N]?”

“S-Sorry....” They apologize and look towards the ground as Beel looked at them curiously. “I knew you were asleep, but I still woke you up. I’m sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” Beel asked. A bit more awake now that he knew it was them and they seemed distressed. [Y/N] shrugged. “Did you have a bad dream?” 

They pause for a while, but then shrug again. He might not be a thinker like the others, but he was smart enough to know what that meant. He reached out to take their hand and pulled them into his room. Leading them over to his bed and pulling them onto it.

“Don’t worry. You can stay here.” Beel said, holding [Y/N] to his chest in a horizonal hug. “I’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to worry while I’m here. Go back to sleep.”

His words seem to do the trick, and [Y/N] feel back asleep. Beel stayed awake a little while longer. Combing his fingers through their hair, before he too fell back asleep.

Belphie

He heard the conversation from the door, but didn’t bother getting up.

The only thing that could break through when he was asleep was Beel and [Y/N]’s voice. So hearing them both woke him up pretty quickly, although it seemed to be handled. 

He tried to go back to sleep after hearing you settle in, but it didn’t work. The usually lazy demon kept fidgeting in his sleep, trying to get comfortable, and even counting sheep to try and go back to dream land. Nothing worked. And he knew why.

Belphie got up out of bed, hugging his pillow to his chest, and walked over to the over bed across the room and kicked it. When Beel and [Y/N] looked up at him half asleep he demanded, “move over.” He couldn’t sleep know that [Y/N] was cuddling up with someone else and not him. Especially in the same room.

[Y/N] huffed in their sleep and laid back down, scooching closer to Beel to try and make space. Beel, on the other hand, smile sleepily up as his twin and properly moved over; back pressed against the wall with [Y/N] at his chest to give him as much space as possible.

Belphie smiled back at him, then dropped his pillow to climb in. Instantly falling asleep. Holding on to his twin and beloved [Y/N] for the rest of the night.

Simeon

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. Those were the words that Simeon tried to live by

He was just about to slip under the covers happily, when he heard a small knock at the door. It was so faint & small, that he assumed it was Luke needing something. So he quickly went over to answer it without putting his robe on.

“Oh…[Y/N]….” The angel said, feeling his cheeks heat up and clinching for his imaginary robe to cover his pjs, when he realized it was you. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t mean in the Hall. You were stay in the other dorm for a while as an infestation of some icky, demon creepy crawly, that just loved to nibble on humans was dealt with in the House of Lamentation. Luke of course had been thrilled you were staying with them, insisting that the change be made permanent to keep you away from those rowdy demons. Simeon couldn’t really agree on the demon part, but he wouldn’t be disappointed if you stayed here more.

“I…couldn’t sleep,” you tell him. “New surroundings and all. I was…wondering if I could stay in your room?”

The angel seemed to bristle in surprise at your words. Taken aback, but also in the warm feeling that was spreading through his chest. God have mercy…..

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate.”

“Please?” [Y/N] beckoned. He had to gulp down the lump, and instantaneous urge to say yes, building in his throat. “I just don’t want to sleep alone. I keep thinking about those things in my room back at the dorm. And being around you is so comforting. Just for tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch and everything if that’s a problem.”

“I wouldn’t let you do that.” Simeon insisted. He would never let them sleep on the couch like some vagabond. “Well….alright. But just for tonight. And just because you’re feeling unsettled.” He doesn’t know who he was trying to convince more: them or himself.

He didn’t get much sleep that night. Tense, and trying to remain appropriate even is they slept next to him. But, in a way, it was the best night he had ever had.

Solomon

He always stayed up late. The late to early morning hours were the best time for magic. The witching hour. He was knee deep into his research & spell casting when he heard the knock at the door.

“I..saw the light on…” [Y/N] said when he opened the door. “Are you…going to bed soon?”

Solomon blinked for a moment, then looked down at his pocket watch. Oh, it was rather late. But….“No. I still have quite a bit of work to do.”

The other human sighed, then turned to leave from his door just as suddenly as they came. “Wait. What is it?” He asked, stopping them.

They turn, and seem to debate about answering before, “I couldn’t sleep and was thinking it might be nice to cuddle with you.” Solomon blinked again. In surprise this time. “Stupid, right?”

No, not stupid, he thought. It was just no on had ever asked to cuddle with him before. His body and cool demeanor might be misleading, but he was a very fierce sorcerer. Powerful, and awe inspiring. He had made cities tremble in his young days, and was powerful enough to independently bind one of the strongest demons in hell. Cuddles were not something that one usually thought of when it came to him.

He opened the door to let them in and said, “if you can’t sleep, I can make you a potion.” When that didn’t seem to go over well he corrected with, “or…I could lay down with you for a moment.”

The ‘moment’ turned into the whole evening, because the second his head hit the pillow, he instantly fell asleep. Lulled to dream land by his many late nights, and the warm embrace of [Y/N]. Perhaps there were better things than just getting research done.

Diavolo

He groaned in his sleep. Then rolled over on his side, immediately pulling [Y/N] in when he was in close proximity of them. It was a reflex at this point.

At first, he had tried to keep his distance from the human exchange student. No good would come from it, and it was inappropriate that the future King & patron of the program would be involved with one of the terrestrial candidates. But he couldn’t help it.

Their brightness. Their smile. Their hope for the program and just life won him over and now he couldn’t stand to be further apart from them than a second.

“It’s morning....”

Divaolo groaned and buried his head into the back of their neck. “Five more minutes...”

“We can’t. It’s morning.” [Y/N] insisted. Jutting their hips back against his front; which had the opposite effect of trying to get him out of bed. “If you don’t go, Barbatos will start looking for you. And if he teleports into my room it will be a whole thing.”

That certainly was a metaphoric splash of cold water.

The prince groaned again, and buried himself deeper for a second, before he compliantly agreed and got up. The little full bed in the student dorms joyful of his departure, as it squeaked happily as he tried to leave it.

“Can I come again tonight?” Diavolo asked, as he adjusted his ornate bed clothes. He never slept in them. Like most things in his life, they were all for show.

[Y/N] smiled at him from under their covers and said, “of course.”

His heart swelled at their smile and the promise of later. Surging forward he gave them an impassioned good morning kiss, and told them, “wait up for me.” Before he disappeared in a whirl of black smoke to his own bedroom.

It felt terribly cold now. But he only had to wait until tonight. That he could live for.

Barbatos

The work of a butler is never really done.

There were always things to do. More chores to complete. More tasks to do. Particularly in the life of the royal butler. But Barbatos never complained about his job. He was literally born for it, and took great pride in his work. No matter how small the task.

When he heard the small bell, harking a summons from on of the guest rooms, Barbatos stopped polishing the silver and immediately went upstairs to see what was needed. “You called, [Y/N]?” He asked upon arrival. Calm as ever, and ready to help. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you up here.” They apologized. “I just….couldn’t sleep.”

Barbatos chuckled a little with a soft smile. “No need to apologize, [Y/N]. You’re a guest here, and a friend of the young master.” As well as a dear person to him. “I’m happy to help with anything you need. Might I make you some soothing nightshade tea? That seems to do the trick for most people.”

“N-No. No I…I was wondering….if you’d just sit with me for a while.” The human looked down at the ornate bed spread. Picking at the embroidery in a nervous manner. “Til I fall back asleep?”

The demon smiled again, and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. Holding them in the most comfortable manner possible with him on top of the covers, and them under them. “That is a simple thing.” He told them softly. “Close your eyes. I shall stay with you until you are asleep, and make sure you are taken care of.”

“Thank you.” [Y/N] said lazily. Already closing their eyes and falling back asleep with him close.

The work of a butler was never really done. But this was a task he was happy to do.

[xoxo-teddybear]

What Have I Done? - Bakugou Katsuki- pt.2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of suicidal thoughts, fluff, insane behavior, nsfw, noncon! Dubcon!, murder, stalking, abusive behavior, yandere!Bakugou, cursing, blood, lowkey kinda slow burn (meaning the beginning is a little boring BUT IT GETS GOOD I SWEAR😭)

Ep. Warnings: Angst, hitting, cursing, stalking, kidnapping, murder

Summary: It’s been awhile since you’ve left him. Two months actually but it was two months too long. Katsuki was slowly going insane and I guess you could say he officially has because he’s officially snapped. You become his main target, his number one priority, his entire being even though you’re trying to leave him. But Katsuki won’t let you. You’re his..and in the words of Bakugou Katsuki..you always will be.

A/N: ....I made it a yandere story y’all. OH SHI-

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Chapter 1

Twitch, twitch, twitch. That’s all Katsuki’s body been doing. Either his eyes or his fingers, his body is uncomfortably moving. Shit doesn’t feel right for him. And he knows exactly why. You left him.

The first week was horrible. All Katsuki did was cry. He even kept his destroyed home in shambles because he couldn’t find the motivation to do anything. If it wasn’t for Kirishima, Katsuki would have starved himself to death. The second week was just as bad. Nothing but a crying baby being taken care of by his best friend.

The third week is when Katsuki become a drunkard. He made Kirishima and the boys of the Bakusquad constantly take him out whenever. As long as the place served alcohol, he would go. He would go and drink himself to sleep. While he was intoxicated he would cry about how he misses you and how he was a terrible husband. He always said you deserved better but he was too in love with you to let you go. The 4th week was pretty much the same.

After a whole month without you, Katsuki threw himself into depression. For the entirety of the second month, he locked himself within the walls of his home. Thankfully, it was now considered a home environment once again after his dear friends cleaned the place up for him. Katsuki stayed inside all day, drank his soul away every night, and sobbed constantly. Constantly regretting how he neglected you, how he mistreated you, and how he hurt you. He doesn’t even know how he even brought himself to do that. Even though he’s been alone for almost 2 months, he still had hope that you would come back. That things would go back to normal and he would be a better husband to you, just like he promised.

Katsuki felt himself going mad and slipping away, but what pulled the trigger was what Kirishima brought to him on the 6th week.

—

Flashback

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?”

Katsuki looked down at the papers in his hands. Kirishima had walked in with a nervous and sad look on his face when he gave Katsuki the papers you had the red head deliver. “Sorry man...”

Katsuki shook as he stared at the divorce papers with wide eyes. He saw you already signed it and all the paper needed was his signature. His face grew dark as something in his mind snapped. Katsuki turned to his friend and instructed him to get out of his home.

“What? Man are you alright?” Kirishima said. He walked to his best friend and when he reached a hand out for him, Katsuki pulled on his arm and pushed him out the door. He slammed it shut and locked it as he looked at the papers.

A scary smile grew on the man’s face. His eyes grew crazy as he laughed maniacally. Hysterically. As if what he held was the most hilarious thing in the world. His palms began to spark as he used his quirk to destroyed the papers. The quick blast made his hair floof around a bit and when it was over, a pile of ashes lay at his feet.

“She-....she thinks she can leave me?” Bakugou began to walk to the framed picture on the coffee table. He picked up the picture of you both on your last anniversary and ran his finger over the image of you. “Poor Princess....you can’t leave me. You need me. Just as much as I need you. I mean..hehe...look at what I mess I’ve been. I can only assume you must be worse. But it’s okay, love...I’ll find you soon enough..and I’ll help you feel better,” he walked to his bedroom and layed down on the soft mattress as he held the frame close to his chest as he stared sinisterly at the ceiling, “and we’ll never be apart again.”

—

The 7th week was when it began. Katsuki took some time off of work. He was gonna be too busy for hero work. He had something much more important to do. He had to bring you home.

Katsuki spent the 7th week looking for information on you. He was up 24/7 reading all he can, talking to as many people as he can, and doing all the digging he could until he found you. Unfortunately for him but luckily for you, he found nothing. It pissed him off. How could you have completely erased your existence? Did you just go into hiding or was he not searching hard enough.

This time, the luck switched. Katsuki was just walking to the store when he looked to the far side and saw you in a cab. He had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t mistaken but after a good glance and taking a picture for confirmation, he knew it was you. His body almost betrayed him as he almost went in to run after you but luckily his brain stopped him. He had to think. Katsuki hid in an alleyway nearby as he watched you from the side. When the driver continued down the road, that’s when he began to follow you. He used his hero training and quirk to keep up with the car. He followed you for miles until the cab finally stopped at some hotel. He watched you walk in and decided this was far enough.

He knew where you were now. He could wait a little longer before snatching you up. If he did it now in broad daylight, chaos would break out. He had to wait for the perfect moment to get you back. He was okay with waiting. He knew where you’ve been staying, how to get there, and knew what time you got back from wherever that cab picked you up. And then it hit him. The cab.

Katsuki went back to look at the picture he took of you in the cab and checked the license plate. With this information, he went home to find where the vehicle was.

Katsuki busted the door open to his home and ran straight to his in-home office. He went to log onto his work laptop that he used for hero work. The laptop contained the tools and websites that would allow him to find the cab. He finally reached the site he was looking for and went back to the picture. There, he typed in the license plate number.

“よ 57-342” he whispered aloud. Finally, he located the vehicle and went to find it. Katsuki followed the location until he found the house where the driver stayed. He waited in hiding, hoping someone would come out and hoped that the someone would be the driver. He waited and waited until finally, after almost 2 hours of waiting, a man came out. Katsuki quickly pulled up the picture and made sure it was the same person who was driving you, and to his luck, it was.

He quickly ran to the driver before he could get into the cab and pulled him into a dark corner. He slammed the man up against the wall and pulled up a picture of you. “Listen! You dropped this girl off at a hotel, I need to know where you picked her up! Tell me! Now!”

“W-whoa!” The driver exclaimed as he took notice of Katsuki’s identity. “Y-you’re Dynamight!”

Katsuki sucked his teeth at the fact that this guy knew who he was but then again, he wasn’t surprised. He was the number 2 hero after all. “Yeah! I am! Now tell me where you picked up my wife you dog-faced loser!” He screamed.

“Y-you’re wife??” The man looked at the picture and recognized you and the name you gave him. “Oh! M-Miss Y/N! Yes! Uh-..uh- I- she- I- ..I picked her up from a gym!” The man exclaimed.

“What gym?! Tell me!!!” Bakugou shouted at the man.

“I-I’m sorry! I don’t know if I can! She- she said she got divorced so how can I trust you’re her husband?!” The man shouted in fear.

“Are you calling me a liar?! I’m a fucking pro-hero! Why would I pull some bullshit like that! Tell me where my wife was! What?! Gym?!” Bakugou screamed once more. In fear, the man gave Katsuki the information he needed.

“Hosu Gym!” The man shook and Bakugou stared for a minute to scare the poor guy before dropping him to the ground. As he walked away, the man spoke up once more. “D-Dynamight, sir. I-If miss Y/N doesn’t want to see you..and you’re forcing information out of people..I’ll have to tell the authorities..sir.”

“You’re not gonna do a damn thing. You hear me?!” The pro screamed. Bakugou side eyed the man as he watched the driver get up from the ground.

“Sir. From the small conversation we had in the car, Miss Y/N said she was divorced-“

“We aren’t divorced!!” Bakugou said as he made a random explosion to intimidate the man. “We are still together, and she is still my wife, and none of this is any of your business!” Bakugou began to walk away but heard the driver grumble something under his breath that triggered something in his brain.

“I can see why she left a crazed man like you...” the driver mumbled. Katsuki quickly snapped his body to face the man and jumped on him. His burning hand found it’s way around the man’s neck and began to squeeze.

“The hell did you say?! You’re gonna wish you never said that you fucking fool, cuz now those are gonna be your last words!” Bakugou said before he activated an explosion and killed the man. Katsuki took deep breaths before realizing what he did and for some reason, he felt no remorse. And he knows why.

“That idiot should’ve known better than to talk about me and Y/N like that...s’his own fault he died.” Bakugou said before walking away from the gruesome scene. He acted like nothing happened as he made his way to Hosu Gym. He just needed to know what time your got there and when. Then, he could finally go home before continuing his plan for the next day.

—

The blonde decided to wait for some time before he went into the building. It was getting dark and so the gym would be closing soon. He waited and waited until finally, the place was empty. Empty except for the man who worked at the front desk.

Katsuki slipped in right before closing and hid himself in the locker room. He waited 10 minutes before going out and finding the one employee he saw. After exploring the area, Katsuki found the man sitting on a bench. He snuck up behind him, and pounced. He covered the man’s mouth as he tugged him into the back room. Once inside, The blonde threw the man in and locked the door to prevent anyone getting in or out.

“W-What is going on? D-Dynamight, what is happening?” The employee asked in fear. He assumed a threat was going on or some trouble was taking place outside of the gym. He had no idea the trouble was standing right in front of him.

“I need you to tell me when this lady came in.” Bakugou said and pulled up a picture of you. The man looked at the picture and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize-“

“YOU WILL! This woman came in here today and I need to know what time! TELL ME!” Bakugou screamed as he lit sparks in his palm. The man shook in fear at the hero’s booming voice and began to look harder. After a minute, he finally spoke.

“I- I remember. She came in hours ago! Sometime around 12 to 2!” The man said in hopes the yelling would stop. It didn’t.

“ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?! There’s a huge space in between! I need to know exactly what time she came in! Don’t you morons have a sign in?!” Bakugou screamed.

“We do! We do sir!” The man nodded his head in fear. Bakugou huffed before walking over to him and dragging him by his collar to seat him on the chair in front of the computer.

“Then get into your data base and FIND MY WIFE!” The blonde screamed. The worker nodded frantically before getting right into it. Bakugou watched his every move and the computer. He kept a sparkling hand right next to the man’s head to keep him intimidated as he worked. Eventually, Bakugou saw your profile picture on the screen when the man scrolled down. “Stop. Her. Check what time she came in.”

The man read the drafts and spoke. “1:30 p.m.”

Bakugou nodded before walking to the door and unlocking it. He turned to the trembling man and gave a quick warning with a sinister smile. “If I ever find out that you told anybody, even your own damn friends or family, about what happened tonight, I won’t hesitate to come back and kill you. Am I clear?”

The man gave a quick and jittery “y-yes sir!” As he watched the pro-hero leave the room. Once Bakugou was gone, the man let out a breath of relief and allowed the few tears he was holding back to fall. Bakugou Katsuki definitely struck fear into those of the lives he met.

With this simple information, Bakugou smirked as he walked out the gym doors. He knows where you live, what gym you go to, what day you go, and what time you arrive. You were always a very punctual person. You had a schedule and you followed it through and through. He completely trusted the fact that when he came back here next week, he would be sure to see you. All he had to do now was wait 7 days.

—

7 days have passed and Katsuki was waiting for your presence in the gym. After finding out you arrived at 1:30, he showed up almost an hour earlier at 12 just in case. He waited and waited for you to show. He was almost out of patience, but after seeing that it was only 1:00, he settled the slightest bit. It wasn’t until he took notice of a familiar figure at the desk.

The man Katsuki had threaten nights ago was shivering and shaking in his boots as he greeted people at the door. He was aware that the pro hero was in the building and after the incident of what went down that night, he was definitely scared for his life. Bakugou began to walk to the man and said man could feel a scary aura coming around. When he turned, he was greeted with the sight of a smirking Katsuki.

“Hey friend,” Bakugou said with his hands in his pockets.

The man jumped at the sound of his voice and his scary presence made his eyes teary. “H-Hello Dynamight.”

“Thought I’d just come by to warn you again. When Y/N walks through those doors, don’t you fucking dare try telling her about me or my presence here. Got that.....” Katsuki said looking down at the man’s name tag. “Hiro Itadori? ‘Cuz if you do, your body goes boom. Understand?”

“Y-Yes Sir!” Hiro said as he looked to the ground with wide eyes as he felt himself break into a cold sweat. Bakugou patted the man’s back, causing him to flinch but when the hero walked away right after, Hiro calmed down. Unfortunately, that only lasted for about a second before you walked in.

“Hello Hiro!” You joyfully said. Your voice reached the ears of your ex-husband. Or more so, your “supposed to be” ex-husband. His ears perked up and he smirked as he hid behind a corner wall, taking the view of you in.

“Y/N.” He whispered to himself. He smiled and a blush bloomed on his porcelain skin as he admired you from afar. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. If anything, your looks seemed to have only gotten better. He watched as the man nervously greeted you and allowed you to go through with your workout. Katsuki smirked as he knew the man gave no hint at him being there, and so he would be able to watch you in peace.

Katsuki wasn’t there to keep tabs on your workout and what exercises you did. He was there just to watch you. Of course, while doing so, he admired you, but he was there to gain selfish intel. He watched you from start to end. Once you finished he followed you to your next location. It was still early and so it was safe to assume you weren’t heading to bed yet. He followed you back to your hotel and waited in another area until you walked out again. Sure enough, you did.

For the rest of the day, Bakugou followed and stalked your every move. He watched where you work, where you spent your free time, he followed you to the new cafe you seemed to enjoy, and then he followed you back to your hotel. Instead of waiting in another area and watching from afar, Bakugou climbed the side of the building and watched you from your hotel balcony through the glass door. He payed attention to your every move and noted what time you went to bed. Satisfied with the day’s revelations, he went back to his own home.

Knowing this information, Katsuki was able to sleep a little more peacefully. For the next few weeks, Katsuki followed this procedure. He became a full time stalker, even going so far as to call out of work for some time to put his full attention in you. He watched you like a hawk. He took note of everywhere you went, where you ate, who you spoke to, and what you did. All of it became engraved into his brain.

Now, Katsuki stood at your balcony for the umpteenth time as he stared at your sleeping form. It was deep into the night and with the moonlight on his back, he found enough courage and craze to open the door. He walked in quietly and shut the door, blocking the chilly air from seeping in to awaken your unconscious state. He approached your bed and crouched down to meet your face.

“Still as perfect as ever,” he whispered as he removed a few strands of hair out of your face. His touch didn’t seem to startle you and Katsuki took it as your body naturally indulging in his familiar touch. He blushed at the feeling of your oh so soft skin as his fingertips grazed your pillowy cheeks. His hand finally cupped the side of your face as his thumb drew circles along your skin. Your head unconsciously nuzzled into his warmth like it used to and Katsuki couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry Teddy Bear...I’ll bring you home soon.”

With that, Katsuki leaned down and softly placed a kiss on your lips. This was the lightest kiss he ever bestowed upon you. The pressure and weight was similar to a feather and the blonde struggled to restrain himself once he came in contact. He craved more but his mind knew better. Reluctantly, he pulled away and removed his hand from your face. He walked away, back to the balcony to take his leave but not before turning to look back at you. “Real soon.”

—

You woke up to a sense of familiarity in your room. Although you were alone, you could’ve sworn there was this chilling presence. It was faint but it was there. Taking in a breath and looking around at your surroundings, you reluctantly got out of bed and got ready for the day.

You did the usual. Got ready, got dressed, had breakfast, and went about your day. You went to the market to picked up a few things and ended up staying much longer than you liked. You walked in during daylight and came out when the sun was setting. You sighed in disappointment.

“Guess I can skip the gym this one time. I might as well get back home, read a book or two..” you went on talking to yourself about your schedule. You walked with the groceries in hand as you enjoyed the scenery on your way back, however, even with the shining sun creating it’s golden hour with a beautiful purple sky, you couldn’t help but feel wary of the stillness in the wind.

—

‘Where the fuck is she?!’ Bakugou thought to himself. He waited at the gym all damn day. He waited and waited to see your beautiful face but you never showed. If he had known that you would’ve skipped out on the gym today he wouldn’t have came here and wasted his time. Today was supposed to be the day. The day you came home.

Shaking off his negative thoughts, Bakugou continued with his backup plan. Although it would hurt his soul to bring harm to his precious princess, he reminded himself that he was doing this for her. He’s been so broken for the past months, he could only imagine how destroyed you must be. Hurting you was his way of helping you.

And so, Bakugou made his way to your hotel, where he found himself standing infront of your glass door at your balcony. To his dismay, you weren’t there. He released a huff before climbing down and once again, began to wait. He waited and waited in hiding, constantly on the lookout for you. It’s hard to find you in the city when you don’t follow your daily schedule, but knowing where you currently resided to get your rest made his job much easier.

Finally, after some time, he heard the familiar and comforting sound of your humming voice as you sang a little song to yourself. Bakugou took the sight of you in and blushed at your beauty from afar. He allowed himself to soak in the sound of your pretty voice before making his move. “Sorry Princess.”

—

You finally made it to the hotel. After your long stroll, you couldn’t wait to get some rest. Except, the closer you got, the more tense you became. You could feel the suspenseful aura in the air and your pace soon slowed down. Eventually, you came to a stop as your nerves got the best of you.

“Hello?” You said in the wind. You looked around and saw nothing but the pitch black night illuminated by the street lights and stars.

“Is someone there?” You asked again, turning your head another direction. Nothing but leaves in the wind. You released a sigh and continued your walk but became startled due to the sound of squirrels fighting in the trees.

“Ah!” You screamed and dropped your bag. After taking notice of the two animals going at it, you chuckled to yourself and turned to pick up your bag, unfortunately being startled once again at the sight of shoes in front of you. “AH!”

You jumped back in fear and took a fighting stance before you settled and relax at the sight of your supposed ex-husband. “Bakugou..it’s just you.”

“Mm, nope.” Bakugou said as he bent down to pick up your bag and hand it to you. “It’s Katsuki.”

His words sent your eyes rolling as you took your bag back with a hesistant hand. Something seemed..off.

“Not anymore. Thanks for the help. Bye.” You attempted to walk on to your hotel entrance but his arm stopped you.

“What? That’s it? Thanks? Bye?” Bakugou asked while gently pushing your body back in front of him. “We should talk, Y/N.”

“There’s nothing to talk abou-“

“There is.” Bakugou said with a firm voice, grabbing your full attention. Seeing your doe eyes look at him with caution caused him to settle. Bakugou sighed through his nose and allowed his hands to rest on your waist. “I miss you, Y/N. I want you to come back home.”

You shook your head at the idea and scrunched your eyes as you tried to step out of his hold. “Bakugou..”

“Hear me out, okay? It won’t be like last time, Teddy Bear-“

“You don’t know that-“

“I do. Because I’m going to try harder for you and I’m going to hold onto you and I’m not gonna ruin us for a second time. I still love you Y/N. I always have and I always will.” Bakugou sweetly said. You looked at him with the same eyes of caution before you placed your hands over his, giving him a sign of hope.

“I’m sorry, Bakugou,” you said, pulling his hands off of your waist. “I sent divorce papers. I don’t want to be with you anymore. I don’t love you anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.” Bakugou said with full confidence. Although you pulled his hands away from your waist, you still allowed him to keep a hold on your own hands.

“...I should.” You said looking down. With each word of denial, Bakugou took a step closer, invading your personal space. “You should get going-“

“No, Y/N-“

“Bakugou-“

“Baby. I know you still want me. I know you still love me and I know you’re excited that I’m back. I love you...and you love me. So just admit it.” He said, inches away from your face. You stared in his eyes with a look of longing...and a hint of love. He was right. You did still love him. But after the neglect and harm he’s brought you, you didn’t know if you did want to go back. You didn’t know.

Sensing your hesistation, Bakugou slowly moved in to close the gap between you two. His hands let go off yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His face inched closer to yours and when you didn’t stop him, he continued. Finally, he gently placed his lips upon your own and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel something again. His kisses always brought a comforting feeling of butterflies in your stomach and after a second of feeling his warm lips, you kissed him back. Your hands found way around his neck as you pulled him in deeper and you could feel Bakugou smile into the kiss. It was hot and passionate. You were out in the open but for a moment it felt like no one else in the world existed. You would’ve gotten lost in the kiss had it not been for you remembering the situation you were in with the man.

Reluctantly, you gently pushed Bakugou off of you, but he still managed to press his forehead to your own. “Katsuki...you should go home.”

“Not without you.” He softly said. You shook your head as you completely pushed him off of you and gathered your things.

“Please...just go.” You said and began to walk away but Bakugou held onto your arm to stop you from moving any further.

“I’m not leaving without you, Y/N. Come home.” He stated.

“Bakugou! Just leave!” You shouted as you turned to him. When you faced the blonde man, you were shocked to see a crazed smile decorating his face.

“Too bad. I’m not asking Y/N. I’m telling. You’re coming home with me. Tonight.” He said and you scoffed at him with slight fear.

“You’re crazy!” You said and tried to shake his hold off of you, but of course failed.

“About you? Yes.” He said as he pulled you in closer. You squirmed against his hold until he pressed you in his chest and kept you in his grasp. You continued to fight against him but he grabbed your face with one hand to force you to stop and look at him.

“Let me go!”

“Listen! You either come home with me the easy way..or my way.” He warned. You looked at him with fear laced all around your face as you watched his insane side surface. You began to squirm again and fight once more.

“I’m not going!” You spat. Bakugou just released a simple laugh before caressing the side of your face.

“Yes. You are.” With that, the gentle hand on the side of your face formed into a first as he swung and knocked you out. You dropped unconscious in his hold and Bakugou was quick to carry you princess style and walk away, abandoning your groceries on the sidewalk.

“Shoulda listened. Cant believe you forced me to hurt you like that, baby.” Bakugou spoke to your unconscious state as he walked back home through dead city streets. “Don’t worry though, I’ll take care of you once we make it back. And then, we’ll never be apart again. I promise.”

—

You awoke to chains being locked on your wrist that were tied against a headboard. You layed on a large mattress in a dark room with a dim light. As you looked around, you recognized the familiar place. The place you used to make love for hours with your ex-husband. The place where movie dates and cuddle sessions were a must. The place you locked yourself in before leaving your last relationship. Katsuki’s bedroom.

You tried to jump out of bed but the restraints pulled you back down. You tried to scream and only muffled sounds could be heard. Katsuki taped your mouth shut. You tried using your quirk but it didn’t work. You looked to your restraints and saw the cuffs he used to hold you were quirk restraining cuffs. With nothing else to do, you tossed and turned in the bed as you allowed the muffled sounds to be as loud as they could. Eventually, the ruckus you were making brought the attention of your captor. Katsuki Bakugou.

Hearing all the noise, Bakugou busted opened the door to be met with your frustrated and teary eyes. You glared at him as he smirked at your locked up state. He took the opportunity to walk up to you and caress your face.

“I’m so sorry I had to hit you baby,” he said leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. “But you left me with no choice. All you had to do was come home on your own free will and I wouldn’t have had to do all that.”

You began to tremble with anger and fear as you stared up at the man. Your teary eyes challenged his insane rubies as he sat on the side of the bed.

“How does it feel to be back? Hm?” He asked, ripping off the tape. You groaned at the pain and grew sick as you saw Bakugou pervertedly lick his lips at the sound. You leaned back and huffed with heavy breath before answering him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Let me go!” You screamed. He only looked at you in confusion as another sinister smile took place on his lips.

“Why would I do that, Teddy Bear?” He asked, allowing his thumb to create sweet and soft circles on your cheek.

“I don’t want you anymore Katsuki! I don’t want to be with you!” Bakugou merely raised a brow at your words and continued to listen. “You burned me-“

*SMACK*

You looked at the man in front of you with fear and shock written on your face. Your cheek stung as your face now turned to the side but Bakugou quickly changed that by taking you by your chin to make you face him and wrapped a hand around your neck, chocking you. You gasped for air as Bakugou’s smirk became replaced with a frown and his brows became pointed.

“How dare you?! You’re asking what’s wrong with me but what the hell is wrong with you?! You left me, for months, Y/N. I was heartbroken. I was basically dead with you gone. I did you a fucking favor bringing you back. If I was so fucked, I can only imagine how horrible you must’ve been feeling. You’re lucky I came and save you. Saved us. And now, we can be happy again.” He explained.

“K-...Katsuki-..p-please!” You forced out, trying to beg for air.

“SHUT UP! I saved you, Y/N. So don’t even try to mention the little accident that happened so long ago, baby. Now you can forgive me. And don’t worry..I’m ready to listen to all the apologies you surely have for me...even if I have to choke them out of you.” He seethed with his hand tightening. Your eyes began to pop as the blood flow began to fill your face. Your eyes turned red as you struggled for air.

“I-...I-I’m..K-Katsuki! ...I’m sorry!” You shouted as best as you could. Luckily for you, the second you did, Bakugou’s hand lost its grip and simply rested on your neck. You choked and coughed as you relished in the sweet taste of oxygen. He smiled and leaned down to give your lips a sweet peck to shut you up and tapped your cheek before he walked to the door. Before leaving, he turned around to look at you and give you your official welcome back.

“I’m glad you’re home, baby. Can’t believe you really tried leaving. You’re mine, Y/N. And you always will be....don’t forget it.”

He slammed the door shut, walking away from the room with a smile. And you?

You cried.

A/N: Back by popular demand, we have part 2 to “What Have I Done.” How was it? In my opinion the beginning SUCKED! But I promise it’ll get better! The story will focus on Y/N and Bakugou’s new lives now so stay tuned and I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Tag list: @captainchrisstan @jazzylove @bakugous-trauma @konohahoee @whatdidshesayyy @chibiiichann @lover-of-helios @unicornlover25 @tamakisropebunny @iliketobullydeku @peacchfuz @fairybnha3 @ebiharachan @levimeko @5sos-wdw @naluciosa @anime-weeb-bnha @bakucumsackslut @asteria-obey-me

[doyoungflower]

JOHNNY

5 ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇᴅ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ

1. When you were sick last summer.

I told you to put sunscreen on time and time again, but you insisted it was fine and "you would put it on later". A few hours later and you were crying on my lap from a light sunstroke, a headache strong as the red on your cheeks, and a constant need to grab onto things from dizziness. As I took care of you I realized how you became clingy when sick and my heart swole, your never-fading pout too kissable, and your never-ending need to cuddle too cute. I realized how much I loved you once you were well again and suddenly I felt sad cuz you didn't need me anymore and yet I felt the happiest to see you smile again.

2. When you beat Haechan on one of our game nights.

The date of this game night had been planned for a long time and often I would tease you about "not knowing I was dating a gamer girl", but honestly I was so excited to see you hanging out with my members. Haechan claimed he was gonna go easy on you since he was so good at playing but you didn't faze and in the end beat him up on multiple games in a row. Your innocent laugh and the way you teased Haechan like a little brother made me realize I was the luckiest man on earth.

3. When you insisted on cooking me dinner.

You had admitted to me since the first time we went out together, cooking was by far the worst thing you could ever do and as our time as a couple went by I found out it was true. Except for one day, you surprised me with a text while I was at practice. "Hope you're coming early today, I'm gonna cook you dinner", you had said. I teased you, remembering the times I asked you to help me cut vegetables or fry an egg and everything turned a mess with either you cutting yourself or burning something. Either way, you insisted, so I finished practice with excitement nearly overflowing me. When I came home to the scent of burning vegetables and frozen chicken I realized I loved you because you always try so hard to be the best version of yourself, even when failing at something like cooking.

4. When I watched you go back to sleep after crying because your family dog passed away.

You said you were happy he died of old age rather than suffering from a terrible illness, nevertheless, you cried in my arms as you remembered the many happy memories you spent together. I played with your hair as I listened to each of your words, laughing with you on the funny stories and smiling at the cute ones. When your tears died down, you apologized for staining my shirt, laughing as you said you must've looked silly crying over such a thing. I said I didn't mind my shirt and you had all the right to cry over an animal that lived with you such a long time and was part of your family. Then, I lulled you to sleep, knowing very well you must've been tired and with a headache from the crying, and as I watched your peaceful face and listened to your calming breathing I realized I loved you because you weren't afraid of feeling emotions deep.

5. Every time you accomplish something.

From being able to master a game on your phone to being promoted at your job, every time I see your eyes shining from happiness and proud I can't help to realize I love you because you're the strongest woman I've ever met. And mostly, I realize I want to always see you achieve your goals, either the small ones or the big ones. I want to be there to cheer you on during the process and then tell you how proud I am.

.

.

Note: This is a repost from my old blog. Just as this one, all my works will be moved to this account with rewrites and in a “new format”. Hope you’ll enjoy this new era just as much as I am excited to bring it to you <3

[tokrev-roses]

Pit-A-Pat

Date Night HC

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

Characters: Chifuyu, Baji, Mitsuya

❧ Chifuyu Matsuno

Random dates at the weirdest times, but it’s Chifuyu, so it’s fine

Picks you up early in the morning to have a pre-school breakfast date

Picks you up from school without telling you, you’d only hear your schoolmates whispering about that cute boy and his bike at the gate

You walk over to him, being like “wth Chifuyu??”

And he is just standing there, leaning against his bike and greets you with the warmest eye-smile while handing you a helmet

Wants to spent time with you, but it is kinda problematic with his school-life and nightly gang activities

“Walking in the park and buying ice-cream” dates for him

Wants you to lick his icecream??

Like, he has seen another couple doing this somewhere, and he wants you to do it too

And you wouldn’t get his bragging about how delicious his choice is

 At last, he’d ask you

“y/n. you wanna try it?”

“sure. 😊”

He’d be oddly satisfied after, but whatever makes him happy is fine with you

Another kind of date is the “late night playground date”

With him texting you at the most random hour that he is in front of your house

You greet him at the door, about to decline his offer, when he gives you the “Chifuyu-look”

Needless to say, you ended up seesawing on a sway in the middle of the night

But he gave you his jacket if that makes things up

❧ Keisuke Baji

That guy that tries to be coolest boi out there while dying internally

Definitely talked this date over with his mom

Not because he wanted, but he needed her to lift the grounding

She would go and give him tips…you know…mom-tips

How he should dress nicely, behave, give you flowers and everything

 And him being the good son he is, he would listen

Now imagine you waiting outside a cinema (totally not Baji-style, I know, you know, he knows) in cute clothes, having typical date thoughts like “what if he forgot”, “what if he is going to dump me” until someone taps you on the shoulder

At first you are surprised by the person in front of you

He feels so uncomfortable, but would not complain

Ironed suit, slicked back hair, flowers in his hand

you have some trouble finding your Keisuke in this person

gritting his teeth while giving you the flowers

In that moment some random dude bumped into him and he kinda fell into your arms while the flowers landed on the ground

You chuckle while holding him up, fully expecting him to go into Berserker-Baji mood

But he just takes a deep breath, trying to calm his temper

 “So…you’re really not gonna do anything about that guy? Where is Keisuke and what have you done with him?”

 “Y/n.”

You tried your best to hold back, but the whole situation was so hilarious

Things got even worse

The movie you planned to watch had already begun

Baji was about to beat the guy at the entrance, but you intervened, assuring him that its fine and that you could do something else

You bought some snacks at a 7/11, while Baji walked behind you being all pouty

After you left the store you stopped him, ruffling through his hair to make him look more like himself while chuckling

“Keisuke. Anything that involves you is fine with me. Don’t worry.”

Now he is pouty and blushy

Your late-night adventure ended on a bridge, sharing snacks, and looking at the river. Not your worst experience and you made sure he knew that.

❧ Takashi Mitsuya

Home date, home date. HOME DATE.

I imagine your date to go two ways depending whether he needs to babysit his sisters (which is the usual thing) or if he is free (which is rare)

If you have a home date it won’t be less exciting than going somewhere else

Because the Mitsuya household is so cozy and comfortable

Home-cooked meals by Takashi, who asked you about your favourite dish before

Mana and Luna greeting you at the front door while he stands in the kitchen

The two girls being all over you, admiring the “pretty guest”

You try to make your way into the kitchen, where he is stirring something in a pan

He turns around and gives you the warmest smile ever (it feels like you just came home to your husband cooking smth for you)

He tells the girls to get off you and lay the table

Finally greets you with a soft hug

So much fun while eating, the girls babbling all the time and, of course, embarrassing Takashi, saying how he was “excited for his special person to come”

Both of you help them to get ready for bed, but they complained the whole time that Takashi just wants to do “kissy stuff with you” and now you’re both blushing like hell

Once both of them are (finally) asleep, its couple time

I’m talking about laying on the couch, your legs over his, a big bowl of snacks between, watching a cheesy romance or something (The Devil wears Prada? Got a feeling that’s a movie he’d love)

You either end up sleeping in his bed while he takes the couch, or you go home

In that case he’d insist to bring you, but you would stop him with a wave of your hand. He needs to watch his sisters after all

 A kiss on the cheek as a goodbye for him to see him turn mushy. He is used to female contact, but with you…it is something else entirely

Those would be weekly dates for you

Now, if he is without siblings, expect some crafty dates, like a pottery workshop, going shopping without actually buying anything (money??), him telling you what would fit you (he would be deadly honest about it. No sugar-coating)

Nice café dates with the whole "ordering one milkshake and drink it together" thing

Cute and wholesome, puts a lot of effort into those dates, cuz he feels like the home-dates don’t do you justice 

This is my first time writing for husband material Takashi Mitsuya. I hope I did him justice.

Also, I kinda mixed first date with general dates, so I hope this isn’t a problem? Any opinion and criticism is welcome, and I hope you like it anyways!

Rosalie 🌹

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 8714 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, blood, severe injuries, fear, anxiety, death of a character A/N: This is the FINAL part of a miniseries! You can find the other chapters on the Masterlist! Summary: Y/N and Shane go missing.

Your name: submit What is this?

Two weeks later

“I can actually do it myself,” you insisted, feeling a blush in your cheeks as Daryl pulled your hand over onto his lap and bent over it, luckily oblivious to the pink glow now filling your cheeks.

He huffed at you. “I’m sure ya can,” he drawled, “but it’s definitely easier for someone with two hands, don’t ya think?”

You watched as he methodically and carefully snipped the stitches in your hand and pulled the sutures away, apologizing if they tugged at all. A lot had happened in the last two weeks. Pretty much everyone had come around to the fact that Shane had hurt himself in an attempt to get the group to abandon you. There had been a massive fight between him and Rick and since then Shane had been confined to his tent while he healed. When Hershel found out what had happened, he told Rick that Shane couldn’t stay, but Rick had already decided that he had go. His best friend seemed to be growing more bitter and more unstable by the day.

But Shane was still around temporarily, and because of that Daryl had refused to leave you to sleep unguarded at night. You’d argued that it would be fine and that you didn’t really think Shane would try to pull anything else, but the archer was insistent. Eventually, you caved. Daryl had hauled your cot and bedding to his tent and set them up along the opposite wall from his, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck at the strange nervousness and yet gratitude he felt knowing you’d be so close.

You both fell into an easy routine together. Your physical closeness may have been borne out of necessity but the other growing closeness developed organically. Spending time with Daryl was easy. He didn’t mind when you were quiet for hours on end, lost in your own head as you aimlessly tossed twigs into the fire. He didn’t mind when you wanted to talk about something specific or nothing at all, and you felt the same way about him. The silences didn’t bother you with Daryl and every time he did open his mouth it was either to make you laugh or to say something you were genuinely interested in hearing. He was constantly checking on you over the smallest things. If you shivered in the evening as you spent time around the fire, he’d insist that you moved closer to the flames or he’d go get a blanket from his tent and toss it down on your lap without a word before he took his place again. He’d make sure you were eating and would refill your canteen whenever he thought about it. You did what you could to return the favors but he usually seemed to beat you to it.

“I guess with these out I can finally start hunting again,” you said. “And going out and gathering stuff.”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, his eyes narrowed as he focused on removing the very last stitch. “There.” He straightened up and looked at the slightly raised pink scar down the center of your palm. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he ran a finger lightly down the length of it.

You startled at the unfamiliar sensation, a little strange due to the altered sensation along the length of the scar, but even more so because of the way your heart jumped at the touch of Daryl’s fingers so light on your palm. You involuntarily pulled you hand back and your eyes shot up to meet his.

He gave you a sheepish look. “Sorry. Did that hurt?” He regretted it the moment he’d done it, worried about your reaction.

You shook your head. “No, it just—”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” you finished quietly, chewing on your bottom lip a little anxiously. He quirked an eyebrow at you but simply stood up.

“Alright. Well, couple more days and that asshole will be outta here,” he growled, glancing over in the direction of Shane’s tent. He wasn’t yet allowing himself to acknowledge that he was worried things would go back to the way they were before once Shane was gone. That is, you’d retreat back to your space and back to yourself. He was really liking his time with you and he didn’t want it to end. The archer shook his head and glanced back at you. Your eyes were now on Shane’s tent, too but your expression was fretful. “S’matter?” he prompted you.

You sighed. “I just feel like it’s my fault he has to leave…”

“Nah. Nah, it ain’t. Y/N, if it weren’t you it’d be somethin’ else. He’s been spiralin’ down since Rick showed up alive and took his family back. It ain’t got nothin’ to do with ya, not really.”

You still looked unsure but the worry lines in your forehead eased a little. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

“Listen, I told Carol I’d go help her with that new tent. Ya gonna be alright over here?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mhm. I’ll be right here. Andrea gave me a new book.” You did glance a little longingly over your shoulder at the far tree line and Daryl was always amazed that even after the traumatic incident in those very same woods that you still wanted to be out there almost every minute of the day.

“Hey,” he said, calling your attention back to him. “We’ll go out and hunt tomorrow, alright?”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.” You watched his broad shoulders fade toward the main camp.

Carol was waiting when Daryl arrived. Her old tent had started to leak and Daryl had promised to help her get the new one they’d found set up. She stood up as he strode over, already flustered by the number of pins and ropes and metal poles. “If I’d known I’d be living out of a tent I definitely would have stuck with the Girl Scouts when I was a kid,” she said, giving Daryl a helpless look.

He let out a gruff laugh. “Ya got that the wrong way around,” he said, pointing to the pole she’d already slipped through the tent. She stared at it and sighed. “S’alright. That’s why I’m here right?” he said. “Gimme that,” he said, grabbing the bundle of poles in her hands and setting to work. In no time they had the tent upright and were going about staking it down. Carol handed Daryl another stake and he pounded it into the ground securing down the corner.

“So… what’s going on with you and Y/N exactly?” she asked him.

The archer froze and shot a look at her before returning his eyes to what he was doing, grateful for a task to focus on even as he felt his ears growing red. “What’d ya mean?”

“Well,” Carol continued, “you’re sharing a tent,” she said with a smile.

Daryl scoffed. “So? I shared a tent with T-dog once. Ya gonna ask me if we held hands?”

Carol laughed and smirked at him. “Well, did you?” Daryl rolled his eyes at her and she laughed harder.

“We’re sharin’ a tent cuz there’s a psycho that probably is blamin’ all his problems on her. And I don’t want shit to go sideways.”

“So, that’s it? You’re just sharing a tent for purely practical reasons,” Carol said. Daryl could hear the skepticism in her voice and he straightened up after tying off the knot to the stake.

“The hell are ya on about?” Daryl growled. But even as he tried to act gruff and brush her off, he felt that heat growing in his chest that was becoming familiar when he thought of you.

“You two just seem to get along,” Carol said. “That’s all.”

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed, moving to the next corner of the tent. Something about that response made Carol laugh again.

“You’re so sensitive,” she murmured, eliciting an eyeroll from him. “Daryl, I just like to see you happy. And lately, since you’ve been spending so much time with Y/N, you’ve been happy,” she pointed out.

He couldn’t deny that. She was right. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, his hands still on the last length of cord before he tied it off and pounded in the stake. He stood up and stepped back, taking in the structure. “Alright. All done.”

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, surveying it. She gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze and smiled. “Do me a favor?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, chewing on the side of his thumbnail, glancing up at her.

“If you really like her,” she paused and shrugged, “tell her. Life is short these days.” She knew that as well as anyone. A husband, abusive asshole or not, and a precious little girl were gone to this world.

Daryl only ducked his head and lazily twirled a piece of grass between his fingers. “I’ll see ya,” he murmured, turning and heading back toward his tent. He was expecting you to be sitting beside the fire where you’d been when he left, but that spot was empty. He approached the tent and stopped outside the door. “Y/N? Ya in there?” When there was no answer, he unzipped it and peeked inside. No sign of you. The book that had been in your hand was on the tent floor and he bent and picked it up, setting it on the upturned box that was serving as a nightstand next to your cot. That’s when he realized your knife was there. He’d been thinking maybe you had to go use the bathroom, but you never left camp without your knife at your hip, whether it was for two minutes or two hours. And it wasn’t like you to leave a book on the ground. You treated the damn things like they were some sacred tomes. He felt panic start to grow in his chest and left the tent in a hurry, his blue eyes scanning the area where everyone else was set up and the tree line. He didn’t see you anywhere.

Daryl grabbed his crossbow and took off running toward the main camp. He found Lori and Carol preparing some food for dinner and stopped beside them. “Hey—have ya’ll seen Y/N anywhere? She come through here at all?” He directed the question at Lori since Carol had been busy with him getting the tent set up.

She stood up and dusted her hands off on her jeans, shaking her head. Her eyes went a little wide with worry as she registered the deep concern on Daryl’s face. “No, I��I haven’t seen her. You can’t find her?”

Daryl didn’t even stay to answer. He just tore off in the direction of the farmhouse and bounded up onto the front porch. Glenn and Maggie both stood up at the expression on his face. “Ya’ll see Y/N? Did she come up here?”

Maggie shook her head. “No,” Glenn answered, immediately worried. “What’s going on?”

Daryl swore under his breath and paced a restless circle, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “I—I was gone for maybe an hour helpin’ Carol and now I can’t find her anywhere. She wouldn’ta gone off without her knife or nothin’,” he said. His jaw clenched and Glenn watched the muscle twitch. Daryl’s eyes quickly landed on the tent Shane was confined to and he took off at a full sprint toward it. Glenn was on his heels now.

“Daryl! Daryl, take it easy!” Glenn yelled after him. It drew the attention of the rest of the group and soon Rick and Andrea were standing beside Glenn as Daryl ripped back the entrance to Shane’s tent.

Daryl’s stomach twisted. Shane’s tent was empty. He kicked out at a milk crate that had some of Shane’s things on it and it toppled over. “Shane’s gone and Y/N is missin’!” he roared at Rick.

Rick gulped. A hard pit formed in his stomach. “Daryl—Daryl, just calm down,” Rick said.

That had the opposite effect. “Calm down? Calm down?!” he roared. “This ain’t no coincidence! I told ya he didn’t deserve to stay here to heal up, and now look what’s happened!”

“We’ll find them! We’ll find them. We will. Just—”

“Nah. I’m gonna track that fuckin’ prick and if he’s laid so much as a finger on her, he’s a dead man.” Daryl took off without another word, racing back to the last place he’d seen you, his eyes scanning the ground the whole way, hoping for a track, a trail, something.

“Dale, get the guns,” Rick said. “Lori, you and Carol take Carl up to the house and see if you can wait inside with Hershel and the girls.” Lori nodded and gave Carol’s arm a gentle squeeze. Rick rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face.

Andrea was stunned. “What do we do?”

Rick shut his eyes for a moment and pulled in a breath. “We get our guns and we look. We hope Daryl can pick up a trail and we hope we aren’t too late.”

You had been sitting contentedly by the fire reading when you decided you wanted some tea. You knew there were still some dried spicebush leaves in your pack from your last foraging trip and you went in to get them. You were crouched beside your pack, digging in the pocket when you heard a metallic sound that was easily identifiable. It was the slide of a pistol being drawn back and released, a bullet moving into the chamber. You froze with your hands in your pack and slowly turned. You could see Shane outside the window netting and his gun was aimed right at you.

“Get up. Slowly. Leave all your shit.”

You gulped and did so, replacing your pack against the wall and abandoning your book on the floor.

“Come over here. Zip the tent up and don’t even think about trying anything because I will kill you right here,” Shane growled, and you believed him. “Let’s go. Now.”

Again, you complied. You glanced desperately toward the main camp, hoping with every part of you that Daryl would be headed back or somehow happen to look over and see what was happening, but you knew you didn’t have any options except to comply. Comply and hope for an opening to save yourself.

Shane’s gun was still trained on you as you stepped around the outside of the tent. He was gritting his teeth in anger as you stared back at him. You were determined to remain calm and in control.

He nudged the barrel of his gun in the direction of the tree line. “Move. Let’s go.”

You felt sick, knowing that once you went into those trees the chance that you would ever come back out was low. But what choice did you have? He had a fucking gun on you and you had nothing.

You made your way toward the woods. Shane pressed the muzzle into your back. “Faster. And don’t even think about making a fucking sound. I will shoot you right here. I don’t even care. At least then I wouldn’t have to worry about you going all psycho-killer. Wouldn’t have to worry about Lori anymore. Or Carl.”

You bit your tongue to stop a retort.

Soon, you were under the dark canopy of trees, cloaked in shade and moving further in with Shane’s gun at your back. He was nervous, on edge, and understandably so, because you knew if Daryl caught him… he’d be dead in an instant. You decided your best course of action was to try to reason with him. You really did believe that he was just fucked up from being in love with a woman he couldn’t have. This was all misplaced blame and aggression. He really wanted to fuck Rick up, but that loyal part of him, that police partner, wouldn’t let him. Some part of him couldn’t bear to do that to Carl and Lori, even while another part of him was desperate to. You were an easy target, the next best thing to blame for his failed attempts to get back into the place he wanted to be, to regain some control, to prove he knew best and was still The Protector. If he had been able to show everyone that you were really a threat and that he and not Rick had taken care of it, he really thought maybe that would win Lori over. But that had all backfired. Now you were just easy to blame for all his problems.

“Shane, I know this isn’t really what you want,” you said quietly.

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know a goddamn thing about me,” he growled back, nudging you sharply with the muzzle of his gun again.

“I don’t want you to have to leave either. I know it isn’t fair,” you continued. “You took care of everyone for a while before Rick showed up.”

“I said shut up!” he spat again through clenched teeth. “Ya know what? Sit the fuck down. Right there, against that tree.” He shoved you hard and you stumbled, barely catching yourself with your hands on the large oak before your face would have collided with it.

You obeyed and sat with your back against the tree, gulping at the dryness in your throat, and turning to stare directly at the gun pointed in your face.

Something about how calm you were being, how steady, was completely freaking Shane the fuck out. He wanted you to snap. He wanted to be able to say that he was right about you and you were a danger to everyone in camp, like you were some unpredictable monster. But you just sat there looking up at him, now completely silent, your eyes flickering between the muzzle of his gun and his face. Shane swore under his breath and paced back in forth in front of you. Your eyes followed his movements. You bided your time, trying to come up with something that would defuse this whole situation.

“How is this going to fix anything?” you asked him. “This is only going to make everything worse.”

He didn’t stop pacing and occasionally shooting a look at you that made your blood run cold. You were starting to think that maybe there was no reasoning with him…

“You can just let me go. I’ll just tell everyone I needed to get out of camp for a bit. You can wander back in like nothing happened,” you said.

He pointed the gun at you again and his lip curled. “There’s no going back from this. No going back from everything that’s already happened. And I know there is something wrong with you. I know it. If I’m not going to be here to keep an eye on you, I need to end this now so you can’t hurt anyone. Because I know you will snap eventually. I saw what you did to those men.” Shane got right into your face, poking you in the shoulder with the muzzle of his gun.

“I was defending myself,” you said quietly, feeling guilty and horrified at yourself even as you tried to justify it to Shane.

“So you say,” he growled, his pistol now aimed at your forehead.

“If I was going to snap like you’re saying, wouldn’t now be a good time?” you said quietly. “Obviously you’re a threat to me. But I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

He scoffed and straightened up again, resuming his pacing. “What—what the hell happened to you, huh? What fucked up thing twisted you to the point where you could do what you did to those men? Do you even remember it? Do you even know how many times you stabbed them?” he pressed. He was trying to agitate you, but it didn’t work.

Your stomach was churning with the foggy memory of being covered in their blood, of seeing their corpses on the ground, but you only stared back at Shane. No way in hell you were divulging what you’d been through to Shane, gunpoint or not.

He ran his tongue over his teeth and you watched as the muscle in his jaw clenched. He charged toward you again. “You know what? I’m done with this,” he growled. He pressed the gun to your forehead, aiming at a downward angle. The metal bit into your skin. You stared up at him briefly, eyes wide but surprisingly calm, and Shane watched in some disbelief as you finally just shut them and seemed to resign yourself to the fact that you were about to die.

That hesitation was all you needed.

You shoved Shane’s arm away and the gun with it and snatched the knife at his hip, ripping it free from its sheath and slashing at him, leaving a good gash on his arm. But a knife wouldn’t be any match for Shane with a gun. He was a firearm instructor and you knew his aim was deadly accurate, so before he could entirely recover from his surprise you ran at him full force and the two of fell to the ground hard. The pistol flew from his hands and landed in the leaf little a few feet away. You began to crawl desperately toward it, trying to put distance between you and Shane as quickly as possible, but you let out a yell as you felt him grab hold of you and pull you back.

The next thing you knew he was over you, trying his hardest to get the knife from your hand. You were slashing at him desperately, catching him on the forearms as you struggled beneath him. You caught him with a particularly strong slash but the next moment he had your hands pinned in his and he wrenched the knife from you. The rush of blood was loud in your ears and now you were on the defensive. You shielded yourself with your arms as best you could and continued to struggle beneath him, but his weight was too much.

Shane suddenly managed to push your arms out of the way and you saw the knife coming toward you as if in slow motion. It was heading straight for the center of your chest. You thrust your left arm out and felt the blade pierce it deeply before ripping clean and lodging in your left shoulder. You let out a scream of pain, but as Shane was now leaning over you, you managed to get your knee up underneath him and thrust it as hard as you could into his groin.

He let out an agonized yell and rolled off you, abandoning the knife that was still lodged deeply in your shoulder. You gritted your teeth and were vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face and the fact that you were trembling. But there was no time to stop. You couldn’t stop if you wanted to live. You clutched at the knife in your shoulder, staring briefly with shock at how deeply it was embedded, but didn’t dare to pull it out. Rolling over and holding yourself up on your lacerated forearms, you fixed your eyes on the gun and made a desperate lunge for it. You felt hands on your legs again, dragging you back.

Back toward the edge of the tree line, Daryl had picked up the trail easily and was frantically tracking. Rick and the others were on his heels, glancing around nervously, straining their eyes in the veiled darkness beneath the canopy and their ears in the closeness of the trees. But it wasn’t long that they had to trail behind the archer because soon a strained yell made it to their ears. Daryl felt his blood run cold.

He paused hardly for a moment before he tore off through the trees in the direction he’d heard your voice echo from. “Y/N!” He wanted you to know he was on his way. He needed you to just hang on. He pushed himself to run through the nausea that had risen when that sound, your pained voice, had met his ears. He tore through the foliage, the sound of pounding boots on the soil loud behind him as the others followed.

“Daryl! Daryl, slow down! We can’t just—” Rick paused as he had to bust through some shrubs. “We can’t just barrel in there!” But it was as if the archer hadn’t heard anything. He just continued running, trying to listen over his own gasping breath and pounding pulse but simultaneously afraid of what he would hear.

Crack.

The unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

Daryl skidded to a stop, frozen. His face blanched, almost ashen as Rick caught up and glanced over at him. Sweat was pouring down from their foreheads and running down their necks, soaking the thin cotton of their shirts. A small strangled noise escaped Daryl’s lips as he searched the ground frantically again for the trail, needing to know he was running in the right direction. He spotted it. Direction confirmed, he took off at an even madder pace than before. “Y/N!” There was no answer.

But he couldn’t allow himself to think the worst. He couldn’t. That couldn’t happen to you. After everything you’d already been through… how could he have let this happen? Why had he turned his back on you for even a minute with that prick still around? He felt shaky and weak even as he ran.

The group had just pushed through another thick swath of understory when Daryl saw a bundle ahead, lying motionless on the ground. His breath caught in his throat and his boots rooted into the soil for a moment. But he pushed himself to move forward again.

Behind him he was vaguely aware of a gasp from Andrea and some murmur from Glenn.

As he moved closer, he realized there was a second shape ahead and as his eyes refocused, he saw that it was you. You were leaned up against a big oak tree, propped up against the rough bark, your head lolled toward your chest. Some pained gasp or muted scream, catching mostly in his throat, left his lips before he tore off toward you again. As he fell to his knees beside you, he took in the soaked crimson of your shirt. Your arms were cut up and absolutely covered in blood. Then Daryl’s eyes landed on the hilt of the knife still embedded in your left shoulder. His hands shook as he hesitated before lifting your chin, terrified that your skin would be cold and lifeless. You were bruised and battered, bleeding from a swollen and split lip and a gash near your hairline, but there was some semblance of warmth still in your skin, though you were pale. More miraculously yet, when he gently lifted your chin, you started to stir and Daryl watched in desperation as you struggled to open your eyes, eventually succeeding.

“Hey, hey. S’alright. I’ve got ya. I’ve got ya…” He could hear his own voice shake as he spoke.

You gulped, wanting to clear the taste of iron from your mouth. “I had to,” you managed to croak out. “I had to.”

Daryl knew you were referring to Shane’s lifeless body behind him on the ground. “S’ok. It don’t matter. Don’t talk now, alright? Just rest. I’ve got ya.”

Daryl felt someone behind him and turned to see Glenn just behind him. His face was pale as he took in your condition. “Her shoulder... Oh my God,” Glenn gasped.

“She’s gonna be fine,” Daryl said forcefully. He carefully slid his arm behind your back and another underneath your knees. You were fighting to stay awake. “Daryl…” you murmured. You felt so small in his arms as he lifted you. Daryl was vaguely aware of your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, gripping it hard before you fell unconscious again, going limp in his arms. He turned and started heading back to the farm, moving as quickly as he dared with you in his arms, conscious of the knife still wedged cruelly into you. The sight of it protruding from you made him sick with rage. Rick was kneeling beside Shane, his face downturned, as Daryl breezed past. Andrea stood just behind him with a hand pressed over her mouth, watching as Daryl carried your bloodied body past her.

As Daryl’s broad shoulders disappeared, Glenn bent and retrieved the pistol lying on the leaf litter among streaks of your blood. It felt like a lead weight in his palm.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl sat slumped in a chair beside your prone form laid out on the bed, covered over in the blankets. He was leaned over forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles shone white.

After days of agonizing waiting, there was a soft noise from you and his eyes shot up urgently to see you stirring a little on the pillow. He rocketed to his feet so fast that the chair he’d been in clattered backward loudly to the floor. “Doc!” he yelled out. Hershel rushed in a moment later.

You dragged your eyelids open with a great amount of effort and the first thing you saw were Daryl’s piercing blue eyes looking down at you with immense concern. You moistened your lips with your tongue and cleared your throat, which felt dry and scratchy, preparing to speak. He watched as your expression melted into a veil of confusion. “I’m not… not dead?”

Daryl felt a painful pang in his chest as he watched you spinning with disbelief.

Hershel leaned over you with a kindly and somewhat sad expression on his face. “You most definitely are not. Though you surprised all of us after what you went through,” he said putting a gentle hand on your uninjured shoulder.

Your eyes turned back to Daryl’s. “Shane—” His name seemed to strangle and catch in your throat. “I—”

“I know. Ya had to. S’alright,” Daryl drawled, his brow furrowing low over his eyes.

You mouthed wordlessly for a moment, your eyes brimming with tears. “Is he—did he—?”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod, his expression full of concern. “He’s gone.”

You felt that you already knew the answer but it still made your stomach churn. You laid more heavily into the pillow and shut your eyes, a pained expression crossing your face. When your eyes finally fluttered open again they were still a little glassy. Daryl wondered at this display of remorse, of regret you had for a man who had clearly taken you into the woods to kill you.

But what Daryl saw next was you clearly struggling against some flashback. You squeezed your eyes shut and your breathing quickened. Beads of sweat broke out on your hairline and your face tensed.

Daryl’s hand shot out to gently grab yours before he even knew what he was doing. “Hey.” He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Y/N. S’alright. You’re safe,” he drawled.

Your eyes opened and you glanced down at your hand in his. Daryl withdrew, suddenly self-conscious. You nodded and seemed to come back to the present.

You reached across yourself to grip your left shoulder, a wave of pain running through you and a grimace tightening your features. You felt thick gauze beneath your fingers. As you moved you became aware that you had many little rows of stitches on your arms and a few gashes wrapped up in bandages as well. Even your hands were cut up from your attempts to defend yourself. You extended your arm in front of yourself and took in the damage done by Shane’s knife.

“I don’t understand,” you said softly. “I thought for sure I was going to die out there.” The way you said it was so matter-of-fact and Daryl felt a rush of anger overwhelm him for a moment. Shane was lucky he was dead when Daryl had gotten there… He’d gotten off easy with a single round to the chest.

Hershel nodded. “You have a lot of strength in you. Rest. Everything is going to be just fine. You’re going to heal up and be back to normal before you know it, though that shoulder may need a little extra TLC.” The doctor took his leave and your eyes found Daryl’s again. He read worry on your face.

“What is it?” he drawled.

You gulped. “I’ll leave as soon as I’m healed up,” you said, now avoiding his eyes.

Daryl’s brow furrowed more deeply. “Why the hell would ya do that?”

His tone was forceful again and drew your eyes back to his. “The others—after what happened, I can’t imagine they want me around anymore.”

Daryl sighed heavily and righted his chair again, sinking down in it close at your bedside. “For once yer wrong about somethin’,” he said. “Nobody wants ya to leave. Ya didn’t do anything more than defend yourself, just like ya did with those men before. Anyone can glance at ya for one second and see that.”

You shifted in bed, trying to make your injured shoulder more comfortable, laying your other hand over it absently, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek. You still looked unsure.

“Y/N, when we found ya you had a damn knife sticking out of your shoulder.” He paused and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck a little anxiously. “I—” his voice seemed to catch in his throat. “I thought we lost ya.”

You peered at him curiously.

He leaned forward. “Listen to me, if anybody even so much as looks at ya like ya shouldn’t be here, they’ll have to deal with me.”

Daryl watched, a little anxiously, as your lips parted softly. “I’m not sure I deserve that from you,” you finally managed quietly. “You’ve already done enough. Daryl, I suspect you saved my life.” You gulped and stared down toward the edge of the blankets. “In more ways than one…”

The archer averted his eyes down toward his boots and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, nervous and wavering between his insecurity and need to reassure you, not allowing himself to really think on what you’d just said. “Hey. Yer a part of this group, even if ya ain’t always felt like it.”

You studied him for a long moment before you spoke again. “So are you,” you said perceptively. His blue eyes shot up to meet yours and you gave him a weak smile. “Can you do me a favor?”

He nudged his nose up in a nod. “’Course.”

“Can—can you help me take a walk outside? I need some air,” you said quietly.

“Are ya sure yer up for that? Ya had surgery on that shoulder. Ya lost a lot of blood. Ya just woke up after bein’ out of it for three days. I don’t think it’s—” Concern creased his forehead.

You nodded. “I’m sure. You won’t let anything bad happen to me. I’ve at least learned that by now.” You felt a bloom of warmth in your chest as you spoke those words, coupled with the realization of their truth almost at the same time as they left your lips. That burst of heat you felt was reflected in a pink hue in the archer’s face and the tips of his ears.

He looked a little bashful but nodded and acquiesced to your request. “Alright. C’mon,” he said, gently taking your hand, avoiding the injuries carefully, and doing his best to ignore how nervous he felt when his fingers closed around it. He helped you out of bed and steadied you as you got to your feet. You glanced up at him, and your expression was so open and earnest he was frankly shocked by it. Could it really be that you were looking that way at him? His fingers were light under your elbow and his other hand was ghosting behind your back, centimeters away from making contact if needed as you started toward the door. “Ya alright?”

You nodded and gulped at the rush of feelings his hand around yours had brought, trying your hardest to ignore it. All you could do was nod. The two of you emerged onto the porch and Glenn and Maggie stood up immediately from their place nearby in the seating area. Both of them were all smiles to see you on your feet.

“You’re up,” Glenn said, looking at you with a bewildered smile. “This is amazing. It’s so good to see you awake!” His expression was nothing but kindness.

“How are you feelin’?” Maggie asked.

You nodded, glancing back over at Daryl and relaxing some as you saw one corner of his mouth was twitched up. His blue eyes were fixed on your face and he couldn’t look away. Seeing you actually awake and already on your feet was a huge relief after many days of sickening worry. “I feel alright. A little tired,” you admitted. Almost as if one cue you wavered a little on your feet, your knees feeling suddenly weak.

Daryl’s hand landed flush against the small of your back, immediately steadying you. “Easy,” he rumbled. “Ya alright?” You nodded, quite sure your cheeks were pink, and when you glanced back at him and mumbled a small “thanks” you thought maybe his cheeks were pink too. You turned back to Glenn and Maggie and your eyes drifted to all the numerous stitches on your arms. “I’m definitely a little worse for wear. But could have been worse…” you trailed off.

“Definitely,” Glenn said, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re all just so glad you’re okay.”

Just at that moment you heard boots on the stairs and you looked up to see Rick, thumbs slung into his pockets as usual. Your heart rate increased with anxiety and you gulped at the sudden tightness in your throat. You’d killed his best friend. You’d pulled the trigger and killed Shane. “I’m sorry,” you said to the Sheriff.

But Rick was smiling at you with tears in his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “This is my fault,” he said suddenly, a rasp in his voice from emotion and your eyes widened in surprise. “This is my fault and I am so sorry. Daryl told me—and I should have listened. Shane was way more of a threat than I was willing to admit. This should have never happened to you,” he drawled. “And I hope you can forgive me at some point.”

You stared at him for a long moment, blinking in the sun and breathing in the freshness of the outside air. “It’s already forgiven,” you said softly, nodding at him.

Daryl stared at you in awe of how, despite everything you’d been through, you still could extend that forgiveness so easily.

Daryl sensed some shift in you and his brow drew down low over his eyes. “Let’s get ya back to bed. C’mon.”

You allowed him to help you back through the farmhouse and even into bed as you struggled not to put any weight on your left shoulder, wincing as you moved. Daryl watched you settled in and stood a bit awkwardly at your bedside. He nervously ran a hand back through his hair. “Well, I’ll let ya get some sleep,” he drawled, turning to leave.

“Daryl.”

He turned back to glance at you and your expression was a bit hesitant. “Hmm?”

“Would you stay? …please?”

He didn’t need to hear anything else. He planted himself right back down in the chair at the side of the bed and watched as some of the tension on your face eased.

“Thanks,” you said quietly with a sigh. Daryl watched as you closed your eyes and shifted, trying to make your shoulder more comfortable, but a moment later your eyes fluttered open again and met his. “He put the gun to my forehead,” you suddenly said quietly.

Daryl’s stomach plummeted and then swirled with anger. He stared back at you, incredulous with rage easily readable on his face.

“I made my peace with the fact that he was going to pull the trigger.” Your voice was somewhat disconnected, distant. “But then… he hesitated. And I took the chance and I fought.”

Daryl gulped. “Ya made it. Yer alright.”

You nodded and looked at him for a long moment, seemingly on the edge of saying something else, but you finally just sighed and your eyelids, now heavy with exhaustion, closed again. Soon, you were asleep. And Daryl stayed at your bedside and drifted off himself. _ _ _ _ _ _

Some time later You tossed down the game stringer, loaded with squirrels, in front of Daryl. “Ten,” you said, a wide grin spreading across your face. “What’d ya get?”

He looked up at you and affected an unamused expression. “Nine,” he drawled, pointing to his harvest waiting to be cleaned.

“Ha! I win again,” you said, absolutely brimming with joy. “I thought you said you were good at hunting?” you teased him.

He rolled his eyes at you and looked over as you sank down beside him. “Ya beat me by one. Ain’t exactly a landslide, is it?”

“A win is a win,” you announced with satisfaction.

He rolled his eyes again, but his expression quickly turned to concern as he caught you rubbing your shoulder. “Sore?” he asked you, his brow drawing down. “Maybe ya shouldn’t be hunting with that bow again yet.”

Your face softened as you caught his blue eyes. “I’m fine. It’s just a little tired, that’s all. Hershel says I need to build my strength up again.” Daryl’s eyes caught on the scar where the knife had been lodged into your shoulder. It was matched by many smaller ones on your arms, all with the same pink hue due to their newness. He could also see the brand on your arm, 1048, the remnant from your time under The Copperheads. Before, you would wear long sleeves in the height of the Georgian summer just to avoid anyone seeing that mark. Now there were a lot more scars added to it, but you didn’t seem to care. It was like you finally had a weight lifted off your shoulders and you felt free for the first time in a long time, unencumbered by your past.

“We should get ya a crossbow, like mine. Then ya wouldn’t have to hold the draw with that shoulder.”

“I like my old-fashioned recurve bow,” you said, pulling it over onto your lap and looking down at it fondly. “Especially because I can still beat you with it,” you smiled at him.

Daryl seemed suddenly fidgety and you picked up on it immediately. His eyes turned down and his expression was suddenly serious.

“What? What is it?”

He shrugged, still seemingly avoiding your eyes. “Can I ask ya somethin’?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Always.”

He flicked his thumb along the sharp edge of his knife. “How—with everything that ya’ve been through, how come ya ain’t just angry? I’m angry just thinkin’ about it. And it didn’t even happen to me.”

“Mmm,” hummed thoughtfully. Your eyes turned out across the verdant pasture, toward the trees you’d spent the day under. “I am angry sometimes. But,” you shrugged, your right hand shielding over the scar on your left shoulder absently, “being angry doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t fix it. It all still happened.”

Your eyes grew a bit far-off, a bit distant. Daryl took several forced, deep inhales and gathered his courage before reaching over and taking your hand in his, pulling it away from your shoulder.

You looked over at him in surprise. Your hand felt small between his. Your gaze was questioning. Daryl’s heart was pounding so hard in his ears he couldn’t hear anything else. He gulped, trying to clear his throat so he could talk. “‘M gonna make sure nothin’ else bad happens to ya. As best I can,” he murmured.

You nodded almost imperceptibly, your eyes still a little wide from the unexpected action of him taking your hand in his. “Only if I can do the same thing for you.”

You saw him gulp nervously before he nudged his nose up in a nod at you. “Yeh, I think—I think that’d be alright,” he said.

You gave him a half-smile that he found incredibly endearing and his nerves finally got the better of him and he released your hand, clearing his throat and awkwardly rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m, uhh, just gonna go grab some more firewood,” he drawled, standing up abruptly and internally cursing at himself as he left you sitting alone by the fire. Fuckin’ coward. Despite all his attempts at denial, Daryl had realized over the last couple weeks that he couldn’t ignore how he felt about you anymore, but now he was stranded in this place between where he was and where he wanted to be with no idea how to bridge the gap. He wandered back with an armload of firewood, internally frustrated and kicking himself, but his frustration vanished almost immediately when he had dumped it next to the fire circle and glanced at you again. You were looking at him with that open expression, this time with a little inquisitive lift in one of your eyebrows.

“Hmm?” he hummed, pulling his bottom lip back in between his teeth and worrying it anxiously.

You tilted your head toward the place he’d previously been sitting and he gulped as he sat down, still feeling your eyes steady on him. He thought that now you looked a little nervous. “Can I ask you something?” you said quietly.

The archer nodded, nervous flutters flitting to life in his stomach.

“Umm… is it just me, or have you slept like shit, too, since I moved out of your tent?”

Once you were no longer staying in the house healing up, Daryl had moved your things out of his tent for you since there was no longer any need to worry about Shane. It wasn’t that you had asked him to, or that he’d even wanted to, it just seemed like he should…Afterwards, you’d actually moved your whole campsite closer to his, directly next to it, but you still found yourself tossing and turning on your cot, unable to fall asleep or stay asleep.

Daryl stared back at you for a moment in disbelief. He’d slept like garbage since you’d moved back, and he hadn’t even had the heart to fill the cleared space you’d once occupied with the stuff he previously had kept there. Now the emptiness loomed, drawing his eyes, the physical manifestation of how he felt something was just missing. When you slept on your cot across from him, he’d wake up in the middle of the night and look over at the shadow of your sleeping form. He always felt some swell of relief and maybe something else he couldn’t quite identify… Something about listening to your calm breathing always relaxed him and he found himself able to shut his eyes and drift off again. Maybe he’d gotten used to it. Maybe he shouldn’t have. But since you’d left, he’d been restless and anxious at night, wishing the material of his tent and yours would vanish so he could check on you.

Your nerves were growing with each moment of silence as you anxiously watched him, waiting for him to say something. “No, I—“ he had to clear his throat, nerves making his voice come out strangely strangled, “I’ve—” he let out a scoff of a laugh, almost incredulous he was about to say it to you, “I’ve slept like shit since ya left.”

“…really?”

He nodded, finally meeting your eyes again. “Mhm. Can’t fall asleep, can’t stay asleep, just feels like I lay there all the time w—”

You grabbed him by his lapel and pulled him toward you, pressing your lips softly to his, your eyes shut tightly, overwhelmed with nerves even while you melted into him. Your fingers cupped his face gently, like he was something fragile and Daryl was reeling.

By the time he reached back for you and got over his surprise you were already withdrawing and he blinked, bewildered, as he took in the wide-eyed expression on your face and your partially parted lips.

“Uhh—was that—okay?” you breathed, anxiety ratcheting up with each passing moment of uncertainty.

“Ya,” he drawled. It spilled from him like warm molasses. He watched as your face broke into a relieved smile and your cheeks burned pink.

“Good,” you murmured, unable to look at him any longer.

“Only I—I wasn’t ready,” he murmured. Your eyes flickered up to his again. He gulped nervously and reached out to move a strand of hair out of your eyes before clasping your face. His blue eyes were flickering between yours and then down to your lips. You could tell he was nervous and it brought a small smile to your face. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned toward him, only having to wait a second before you felt his lips crashing against yours.

This time the kiss was heated and urgent and he pulled you into him gently with his hand at the nape of your neck. You happily leaned in, smiling against his lips, your hand pressing flush to his strong chest and the other landing lightly on his side, driving him crazy. Daryl’s hand smoothed over your shoulder and down your bare arm, electricity rising in its wake.

When you broke apart this time, you were both all stunned smiles again, though now you couldn’t look away from each other.

“So, uhh—ya wanna stay with me tonight? Sounds like we both need some real sleep, ya know, and I dunno…” Daryl wasn’t used to asking for what he wanted so blatantly, or making himself vulnerable, but somehow you brought it out of him and he was willing to jump off that ledge if it meant he got to kiss you and touch you and hold you all night… things he had thought about plenty when he was lying on his cot, unable to sleep, but never saw as a reality.

You nodded, that same smile you always gave him glowing on your face. He was constantly amazed by the light you exuded; despite everything you’d been through… everything you’d shared with him.

He needed that. He needed the light. He needed you. You gave him hope.

That night you settled in against him, nervous but melting into the safeness of his arms around you. Daryl worried he was too overwhelmed to sleep, but moment by moment he realized how natural having you against him felt, how safe, how perfect, and before either of you spoke another word you both drifted off in blissful silence.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Invisible Assistance

Prompts: If ur taking requests do you think maybe you could write about the sanders sides as kids where Virgil subtly looks out for the others when they’re afraid of things (cuz he can tell as anxiety)? Like for example he plugs in nightlights in the hallway bc Logan is afraid of the dark. He leaves sticky notes with compliments out for Roman bc Roman’s afraid of rejection/falling short. He stitched together little stuffies for patton bc he’s hates being lonely. Those kinda things. Virgil would have to do it discreetly bc the other sides wouldn’t accept the help if it was from anxiety (even if they really really wanted the things that would help). And maybe the other sides find out after they accept Virgil bc he says something offhandedly about it? However you wanna write it tho!!! <3 - renjunstolemykidneys

Can I request a Sanders sides fic where one of the sides is touch averse? - anon

Oh is it kid fic time? it's kid fic time!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none! fluff land down below bois

Pairings: it is found family to the MAX

Word Count: 3836

When one of the others is afraid, a patch on the back of Virgil’s neck tingles.

It doesn’t hurt, which is good, because that would be really annoying, but it tingles.

Or, five times Virgil helps one of the other Sides when they're afraid, and one time they show him how much they appreciate it.

When one of the others is afraid, a patch on the back of Virgil’s neck tingles.

It doesn’t hurt, which is good, because that would be really annoying, but it tingles. He used to be scared of it. He ran to Janus the first time it happened because he didn’t know what he did wrong, he didn’t know why this thing was happening to him. Janus had calmed him down, walked him through his breathing exercises, and said that it was one of his powers.

“Powers? What powers?”

“I can grow extra arms and I can tell when people are lying,” Janus had said, “those are my powers. You can tell when people are afraid.”

And Virgil could. There was a small patch on the back of his neck that acted like a fear detector, where he could tell what was wrong. Over time, he had figured out how to tell who it was that was afraid.

Logan’s fear felt really fuzzy.

Not like the soft blankets that Patton likes from the hall closet, but the kinda weird static that the TV has sometimes when the video games won’t load properly. It’s fuzzy. It’s kind of hard to think. Sometimes, if it’s really bad, it gets kind of hard to see.

Logan doesn’t like being afraid and Virgil doesn’t blame him. Being afraid isn’t fun, that’s why he doesn’t like it.

Logan’s fear is fuzzy because Logan is Logic. Logan makes things clearer, easier to understand, because that’s his power. He’s really good at it. When Virgil gets afraid for himself, Logan is really good at explaining why it’s not so scary after all. Sometimes it doesn’t always work, but it works most of the time. But Virgil can’t do what Logan does for him because that’s not his power. He just knows when Logan is scared and fuzzy.

At first, Virgil thought it was something wrong with his glasses. After all, Logan needs them to see, doesn’t he? So if his glasses are fuzzy, he’ll be fuzzy. But Logan uses the glasses to see outside, not inside. So it isn’t the glasses. So he starts trying to figure out what Logan is scared of.

Then he notices that Logan’s light stays on all night while everybody else turns their light off.

He mumbles something about it to Logan the next day and Logan tells him that’s because he likes to read at night and so he needs the light. But Janus said his mouth felt weird after Logan said that so Logan’s lying.

Oh. Maybe Logan’s scared of the dark.

Virgil goes back to his room and opens his closet. He scrambles up on the step stool—putting his arms out for balance like Patton and Janus said—and reaches for the box of night lights. He pulls the cardboard down and rifles through it, looking for ones that Logan would like. He comes across a collection of night lights that Thomas saw at the space museum—what was it called? He pulls one closer and reads off the label.

“Planetarium,” he mumbles, “got it.”

It’s a set of nine night lights, one for each planet, and a big one to be the Sun. He scurries out into the hall and checks to make sure no one is around. There’s no one there. He tucks the box under his bed and scampers off. He needs to count how many outlets there are to see how many lights he’ll need.

There is one by the bathroom, two in the middle of the hall, one by Patton’s door, one by Roman’s door, one by Remus’s door, one by Janus’s room, one by Logan’s room, one by his room, and one at the top of the stairs.

One…two…three…four…five…six…seven…eight…nine…ten.

Perfect.

Virgil hurries back to the cardboard box and makes sure there are ten night lights. There are. Now all he needs to do is figure out where each one has to go.

The Sun is Logan’s room. Obviously. Mercury can go with Roman because those two love to play together. That would make Venus Remus because the twins are very close too.

Patton is the Earth because he takes care of all of them. Janus can be Jupiter because he likes being the tallest.

The bathroom can be Uranus.

The stairs can be Neptune because Logan likes that Neptune spins on its side, which is really cool. And the stairs are kind of sideways so it matched.

Virgil holds the last night light in his hands. Pluto. It’s small, a kind of purple-gray. It matches the sleeves of his pajamas. As he walks back to his room, he plugs the Pluto into the outlet next to his door.

Perfect.

He doesn’t feel Logan getting scared by the dark anymore and the Sun nightlight is really bright.

2.

Roman’s fear makes his neck feel hot. Almost like he’s embarrassed by something or he’s ashamed of something. He doesn’t like it, and he can imagine that Roman doesn’t like it very much either.

Roman is really loud. He really likes singing at the top of his lungs, even when there are like four other people in the room that are trying to do something. He really likes talking loudly too, even when they’re trying to do something. Sometimes Virgil thinks that Roman is too loud, but he’d never say that to him. That would be mean.

Roman gets hurt a lot. He says it’s because of his quests in the Imagination but Janus doesn’t believe him. Not about all of them. And that would be a weird place to get bruises. Virgil goes in there too sometimes, to play with Remus and Roman or to train with Roman. One of his other powers is fighting the things that come to hurt Thomas so he has to be ready. And he only gets bruises on his arms and legs from that.

Roman gets them everywhere. And Roman’s a good fighter! So it doesn’t make sense that he’s really hurt all the time.

Virgil does figure out that Roman gets hurt when Thomas feels bad about something. When Roman and Thomas have been working really hard on something and it doesn’t go well, Roman goes off into the Imagination and he looks hurt when he comes back. That’s when Virgil feels that he’s scared.

When they get a bit older and Virgil can start confidently naming it ‘rejection,’ he starts to notice that Roman slumps more when he’s hurt. Like it physically hurts to stand up straight. Which is really bad, because Roman loves to sing but you can’t sing properly if you don’t stand up straight. And if Roman can’t sing, he can’t make himself feel better.

Virgil also notices that Roman really doesn’t like it when he’s not sure what to do.

Virgil isn’t the best person to go to for this, because he’s always upset that things are going to happen and they’re going to happen and they don’t know how. But he notices that Logan, who always knows what’s good to pay attention to, doesn’t help either. Patton is the only one who seems to be able to help. And he helps by telling Roman that he’s doing a good job, that they will help, that it’s okay. Roman likes being told that it’s okay.

Virgil can get behind that.

But Roman isn’t always around when Virgil remembers to tell him that, so he decides to write it down.

On his desk, there is a pack of red post-it notes. Virgil stashes one in his pocket all the time with a pen. When he thinks of something that Roman should hear, he writes it down and sticks it on Roman’s door. He doesn’t go into Roman’s room, that’s mean. And rude. He knows better.

Things like ‘I like your singing.’ Or ‘The pancakes you made were really good.’ Or ‘You did a good job today.’ That kind of thing. Sometimes it’s just ‘I like you.’ Because Roman is good and Virgil likes him. A lot.

When he feels Roman start to get afraid, he goes and writes it down and sticks it on the door. Then he retreats to his room and waits, holding his breath, until he hears the creak of a door down the hall and the fear goes away. If he waits a few more minutes, normally he’ll hear Roman start to sing.

Then he lets himself smile.

3.

Patton’s fear feels really heavy. Like…really heavy. It kind of hurts to breathe sometimes if it catches Virgil off-guard. So he really doesn’t like Patton’s fear.

What makes it harder is that Patton is really good at hiding when he’s actually afraid. He screams really loudly when there’s a spider or when something surprises him—thank you, Remus—but when he’s afraid, it’s harder to tell.

But Virgil sometimes catches him sitting in the living room by himself, watching TV, and he’ll be afraid. Not of what’s on the TV, but of something else. So he’ll come downstairs and ask if Patton’s okay and Patton will say he’s fine, but then Virgil will curl up in a chair and that won’t be true. The fear will still be there. It’s only when someone else comes down that it goes away.

Virgil remembers very clearly the day that he spent an hour sitting downstairs with Patton and left to go to the bathroom. He had come back downstairs to see Janus next to Patton and Patton wasn’t afraid anymore. He’d gone back to his room and thought about it.

Virgil couldn’t help with this as he was, but the others could. Patton was afraid of…of being left alone?

Okay. Okay, Virgil could make things that would make Patton feel less alone.

He was never really good at making things, not like the twins were, but he was good at fixing things when they got ripped. When he wakes up in the middle of the night from nightmares he knows how to fix his blankets and pillows and pajamas. So he takes the scraps of fabric he has from all the ones he still had to fix and frowns.

Patton likes frogs. So he draws a frog on the blue sheet and cuts it out carefully. He folds the fabric over and cuts out another one. He stitches them wrong sides together, leaving a little bit at the bottom. He turns it inside out and fills it with stuffing from the pillow. Then he sews the bottom back up. It’s a little frog plushie, and it’s for Patton.

He leaves it outside Patton’s door to a squeal of delight.

When he feels Patton get lonely again, he makes another one. This time it’s from the galaxy pillow and he makes a cat. The cat’s eyes don’t come out right when he draws them but they kind of look like glasses. Logan’s glasses.

The next time, he makes a lion. The lion is fuzzy because the slipper that was falling apart worked really well for a mane. He gives it Roman’s favorite red sash because he accidentally cut the fabric in the wrong place and needed to keep the stuffing inside.

After the lion, he makes a snake. He gives it a little paper hat like the one Janus wears. He giggles when he sees the final thing, it kind of looks like it belongs in Phineas and Ferb. Agent J.

When Patton gets really afraid, he looks at the last bit of the green fabric he has and chews his lip. Can he…maybe he can make an octopus. Like Remus. It takes a long time and he accidentally pricks his fingers a couple of times, but he gets a sloppy-looking octopus. After a moment, he grabs the pen and draws a smile with lots of sharp teeth. Like Remus.

Patton doesn’t feel so lonely after that.

4.

Remus’s fear feels muffled. Not like it’s there but it’s not really, but it gets hard for Virgil to hear things. Not like Logan’s fear where everything is fuzzy, but like someone has their hands over his ears. He doesn’t like it. It makes his own head louder.

He notices that Roman is loud but Remus is louder. Remus is constantly making noise, not like Roman’s outbursts, but always. He’s tapping a table or stomping his foot or humming to himself. He’s never quiet and when he’s quiet it’s bad.

He remembers watching Roman and Remus come out of the Imagination once and Remus hadn’t made a noise. The twins had scurried off to Remus’s room and they hadn’t come out until breakfast the next morning. Virgil’s head had been really loud all night because everything else had been muffled.

Remus isn’t quiet. Remus doesn’t like the quiet. Remus hates the quiet. Remus is scared of the quiet.

Virgil doesn’t like the quiet either, but he can’t exactly make noise without worrying that he’s disturbing everyone else. But Remus doesn’t have that problem. Remus is loud and he likes that he’s disturbing everyone else.

But maybe Virgil can help.

There is another box on his desk full of fidget toys. Virgil doesn’t use them most of the time because they’re stuck in the back of the desk but he does like the fidget cube. Maybe Remus would like it too?

He figures out how to get another one and makes it green and black. He puts it outside Remus’s door.

Well, it’s not quiet anymore.

But Remus isn’t afraid, so that’s fine.

It’s all fine.

Virgil remembers too late that the reason he doesn’t use the fidget cube that often is because he can’t stand the sound of the clicking and the squeaking of the cube. But Remus isn’t afraid anymore and he has his headphones.

So it’s fine.

5.

Janus’s fear is cold.

It’s probably why Virgil took so long to work out that Janus was scared of anything. Janus didn’t like to admit that he was scared of things. Janus didn’t like to admit much of anything if he’s being real, but he really doesn’t like admitting when he’s scared. And Virgil is used to being cold so he probably didn’t notice it for a long time.

But Janus does get scared and when he does, the back of Virgil’s neck feels cold.

Janus is like a snake the same way Remus is like an octopus and Patton is like a frog. If Logan is right and he normally is, it’s like how Virgil is like a spider and Roman is like a lion and Logan is like a cat. Which means that there are certain things that Janus does that are like a snake.

Even if he has too many arms to be a snake. Like…way too many.

Janus has a forked tongue. Remus is jealous and Patton thinks it’s kind of weird. Janus has scales. Roman thinks they’re strange and Logan thinks they’re interesting. Janus hisses sometimes when he’s tired or upset. They all think it’s cute. Janus doesn’t like that either.

They’re watching a documentary for a science class and snakes come up. Logan leans forward with his notebook, Patton grabs his juice box, and Remus starts thinking of ideas to do with Roman later. Janus watches the documentary. Virgil watches Janus.

“Snakes, unlike humans and most other mammals, are cold-blooded. This means they have an inability to regulate their own body temperature. They must bathe in the sun to stay warm.”

What?

“But basking out here in the open is risky. Predators, like this hawk, can see snakes in the grass, thanks to their incredible eyesight. The snake has to choose. Being safe and cold, or risk getting warm and being lunch.”

What?

The others are focused on the footage on screen or by their own conversations, so Virgil can stare at Janus. Is that…is that why Janus doesn’t like coming to spend time with them? Is that why he doesn’t like coming out of his room? They’re not going to eat him, he’s part of Thomas! They need him like they need each other.

But if Janus is part snake…then it would make sense why he’s nervous about being in the open.

Only later, when Virgil is startled awake by how cold he feels, does he realize that he might’ve been wrong.

Janus isn’t afraid of being around the others, he is afraid of what happens when he isn’t around the others. Because Virgil never feels Janus afraid when he’s with them. He only ever feels it when Janus is alone.

When Janus isn’t in the warmth with them. When he’s safer, maybe, but when he’s cold.

Janus is afraid of the cold.

Well. That’s the easiest one to fix.

Virgil gathers up all the blankets he has and goes to Janus’s door. He dumps the pile on the floor and scampers back to his room, knowing that Janus would’ve heard something hit the ground. He waits, waits, waits, and then—

It’s gone.

The cold on the back of his neck is gone.

Virgil smiles and burrows down under the one sheet on his bed. He pulls his arms tight around his pillow and buries himself under the thin sheet. He curls up as tight as he can and feels that the back of his neck is no longer cold from Janus’s fear.

Janus is warm. That’s all that matters.

Janus doesn’t feel cold again. Janus feels warm. Janus feels warm. Janus feels warm.

Logan has light.

Roman has love.

Patton has friends.

Remus has noise.

Janus has warmth.

They’re okay.

They’re okay.

They’re…okay.

Virgil falls asleep in the cold room.

+1

Virgil doesn’t like touch.

It…it’s not that he’s afraid of it, but it…

Okay. Here’s the thing. Virgil doesn’t like that the others can touch him.

Thomas can’t touch him. Thomas is safe, Virgil keeps him safe, but he doesn’t touch him. Thomas is safe and that is Virgil’s job because he is afraid and Thomas isn’t and it’s fine. There’s a line there. Thomas and Virgil hold the line between each other and it works.

Patton tries to pull him in for hugs and Patton doesn’t like being alone but his hugs make Virgil feel like he’s trapped.

Logan tries to touch him on the shoulder to get his attention and Logan likes being listened to but that hand feels like a live wire.

Roman tries to pull him close when they fight and Roman doesn’t like being rejected but sometimes Virgil doesn’t know whether he wants to fight the monster or Roman’s grip on him.

Remus tries to scare him by grabbing him and Remus likes noise but Virgil can’t stand being grabbed.

Janus tries to poke him because getting people out of their comfort zones is part of his job but Virgil worked hard for his comfort zone and he doesn’t want to get out of it.

Virgil doesn’t like being touched.

But that’s okay. He can…it’s not like the others normally want to touch him.

Virgil likes to sit by himself. There’s less to worry about when he sits by himself. He can sit and he can make his own noise and do his own thing and he can be fine. He can hold a pillow if he needs to and he won’t get overwhelmed. He can just…be.

He likes the idea of just being.

He doesn’t get to do it often.

So he’s surprised when he opens his door one morning and there’s a box sitting in front of his door.

He takes it back inside and opens it up. His mouth falls open.

There, on top, is the last post-it he stuck on Roman’s door. The one that just said ‘you’re important.’ He picks it up with shaky fingers and turns it over.

Virgil, these are for you. We know what you’ve been doing to help and we want to help you too. We know that you do not like being touched so we got you something that can help. You are important too.

Under the message that makes Virgil blink back tears for a second, he sees the names of the others scrawled in their colors. He puts the post-it note in the most important part of his desk and peers back into the box.

He lifts out a spaceship nightlight. It’s the one from the movie he and Logan had spotted on the way back from school. It’s very shiny and smooth to the touch.

There’s a notebook in the box that has the quote from Winnie the Pooh: ‘Always remember you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.’ A purple pen is tucked into the binding.

A spider plushie! It’s soft, it’s fuzzy, it fits right into the palm of his hand. It looks like it’s been made out of the Halloween sweater they got given for Christmas. It was a weird year.

There’s a small tin of putty. It’s purple and black, sparkly, and it makes really cool sounds as Virgil stretches and squeezes it. If he traps an air bubble in it, it makes a satisfying pop sound.

Virgil’s eyes widen as he pulls out a weighted blanket. Oh, it’s warm. It’s so warm. It feels perfect. He can understand why Janus hisses when he’s tired now, he wants to do it himself and he’s not even a snake.

There’s one more thing in the box. It’s dark, soft, and for a moment he thinks it could be another blanket. But as he pulls it out, his mouth drops open.

It’s a hoodie. A simple, plain, black hoodie, that’s soft and looks warm and looks big enough to cover all of his upper body.

They…they know he doesn’t like being touched so…so they gave him a shield.

Oh.

Oh.

Virgil doesn’t take the hoodie off until he switches it for a purple one many years later.

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[malereader-inserts]

Even Though it Hurts

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Remus Lupin & Son!Reader Summary: You have a will power than no other. Word Count: 2,032 Request: “ Hi, I love your writing so much. Can you do dad!Remus Lupin x son!reader, where the reader is in secret relationship with Seamus and Remus find out? Just some super angsty story, cuz I live for angst (I knew Remus will be supporting parent). Thank you✨” A/n: Okay, I tried my best to make it angsty. WARNING: homophobia, homophobic slur, anxiety 

It’s not like you wanted your dad to know. 

You didn’t really know what was going through your mind, really, because you know your old man. Your dad was a loving father, he supported you in anything you had interested in. If you were into potions, he would try and get to a little chemistry set - muggle kind that wouldn’t end up exploding the house. If you were into muggle history, he would take you to the museums wherever you lived at that moment. 

If you were interested in quidditch, he would give you books about the history of quidditch and the rule book. He even tried to get to a broom with his own money, but he had to dip into your mother’s money (which was reserved for you and anything you wanted, it was open to Remus as well because before she died she really loved Remus.) 

But, you weren’t sure if he would support you in a new revelation of yourself.

That included kissing pretty boys in the corners late at night. 

Granted, when you spent a summer with Remus and Sirius, they talked about how they had a relationship before Remus got with your mother and Sirius whored about.

Still, it was something you were terribly scared of. Your best friends have tried convincing you and settle your racing mind that you were overthinking it and that Remus would love you no matter what you were or have done.

“You take your time, babe, but I don’t know why you’re stressin’. Your dad is sound and he’ll take the news fine!” Your boyfriend says as you sighed, closing your book. 

“Everyone is saying that Seamus, but that doesn’t eliminate the slight possibility that he wouldn’t approve.”

“I think it does, (Y/n),” Seamus replied, giving you a pointed look, “Why are you so afraid?”

You stare at your boyfriend, “I’m going to bed.” 

“Wha-?”

“Night.”

Seamus watches you tuck yourself in bed, moving the pillows around you so that your boyfriend could slip into bed with you. You flick your wand to turn off the lights as Seamus watches you dumbfounded.

You rubbed your hand as you make it to your next class, which was transfiguration, you smiled at your boyfriend - managing to give him a kiss on the cheek as he flushed red. You moved to stand with Ron and Harry as Dean teases Seamus.

“A minute to the hour, what took you so long?” Ron asked you as you shrugged your shoulder.

“Caught up in the library, sorry,” You replied as you sat down.

Harry was next to Ron as you sat down next to Seamus, who was jabbing you in the side trying to get your attention. McGonagall starts the lesson and Hermione randomly appearing out of nowhere. No one batted an eye throughout that lesson, it was a double before the end of the day.

So, when the lesson finishes, McGonagall calls you to stay behind. You tell Harry, Ron and Hermione not to fuss over you as you held Seamus’ hand a bit longer. Seamus was the last to leave, giving you a supportive look because as much as McGonagall was lovely - she sure can be intimidating.

“Mr Lupin,” she says, calling you over to her desk as you meekly pulled your shoulder bag further onto your shoulder as you walk towards her, “Have a biscuit.”

“I’m okay, Professor,” you replied.

She narrows her eyes, “What was the punishment she gave you.”

Of course, your head of the house would clock on. She had seen how happy you were at the end of the fourth year, how you were so comfortable with showing off that Seamus was yours. She could tell there was a behaviour change in you because as the fifth year started - she knew you weren’t stressed about the subjects.

You were a smart kid, but this was something concerning. You avoided being seen with Seamus unless it was in the privacy of the common room and the bedroom.

“Let me see your hand,” She held her hand out and you knew you had to comply because she wouldn’t let you out of the room.

You gave her your non-dominate hand as she examines the injury. She didn’t like how it was still red, it told her that it was a fresh open wound as bruises started to surround the vile words.

“(Y/n)...”

She looks up at you and you already had started to sob, it was almost her motherly instinct that kicked in as she abruptly stood up and beckoned you to sit down as she soothes your back. 

“It wasn’t bad at first, you know?” You started to explain, “At first they were about dad and how he was a werewolf.”

McGonagall could see the scarring of the old sentence you had to write, “WEREWOLVES ARE VILE MONSTERS.”

She watches you cry harder as you started to hiccup, with a flick of her wand, a glass of water was starting to make way towards you.

“Catch your breathing, darling,” She says to you, rubbing your back, “I guess the wench found out about you and-?”

You chuckled, surprising her because honestly you hadn’t expected so much venom from a well-kept woman like Professor McGonagall and you weren’t expecting her to comfortably call Umbridge names. 

“Yes, she called me in first, gave me the option to either take the punishment or let Seamus. I couldn’t let him do that, and then she told me not to say a word to dad because if she found out, she- she...”

McGonagall could and would throw her shit if she could. No-one should be able to harm the students at all cost, Hogwarts was a place of safety and inducing fear in the students was the last thing she wanted. 

You hiccupped, “She would find where dad would be and make sure he would pay for his actions - I don’t know what she would charge my dad with, but, I can’t lose my dad like I have with my mother. He’s all I have left. I can’t hurt my dad, I can’t hurt my boyfriend, even if it kills me.”

She stares at you in silence, because a young teenager shouldn’t have to think like that.

“Alright, I’ll write you off for the rest of the week, and let me bandage your hand.”

Perhaps you were terrified to tell your dad about the punishment you have to endure, perhaps you were terrified how your dad would react that you rather endure pain and homophobia than tell him. You know that your dad would lose his cool.

McGonagall tends to your wound, she doesn’t want to see the nasty words on your hand and she knows full well you didn’t want to either. 

You leave her classroom to go back to bed, luckily, it was nearing Christmas so Christmas break was soon to come. 

You spent many days talking to McGonagall, she couldn’t stop you from going to detention, so no matter how many bandages you go through, you could feel the pain of two sentences branded on you.

“WEREWOLVES ARE VILES MONSTERS.”

“I AM A DISGUSTING FAGGOT.”

You managed to go home early due to the attack on the Wesley family, as you were considered part of their family as well as Hermione and Harry, they allowed you to go home - home as in the base of the Order. 

You weren’t sure how to confront your dad as you tried spending your time sending letters to Seamus. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You slammed your hand down on the desk as your head the voice before meekly turning around to see your dad, raising a concerned eyebrow.

“You scared me,” You sighed out, putting your feather down into the ink, “Announce your presence at least dad!”

Your dad chuckled, “I apologise, next time I will knock before speaking.”

You smiled as you turn yourself to look at him as he slowly enters the room, he wonders why you were cooped up in the room. Hermione was often seen downstairs reading a book whilst Ron and Harry was busy with themselves. But, you, you rather stay in your room.

“Are you ill?”

“Partly,” You responded far too quickly, you were nervous for some reason - the same nerves that ran down your back when you were in Umbridge’s office. 

When you were in “detention” she would rather have you answer quickly, you feared too much that you would reprimand. You pulled your sleeves down just to cover your hands.

“Running a bit of a fever, I’ll just sleep it off, dad.”

“(Y/n),” Remus narrowed his eyes at you, his chilled son that was much more of an anxious mess, “What’s going on? I’ve noticed that you’re sporting the same bandage as the twins and Harry.”

“Well-”

“And they told me it was because of Umbridge,” Remus continues, not meaning to interrupt you, “Son, what did she make you write?”

Remus hated the woman after she was the one to put up the suggestion on the law of werewolves, he would hate himself, but the tears confirmed his fears.

“I’m sorry!” You cried, looking down to cover your face with your hands.

“Shh, my boy,” Remus strides to give you a hug, he kneels in front of you as he lightly grabbed your hand, “May I?”

You sniffled and slightly nodded, you allowed your dad to wrap the greyish bandage. He didn’t know what he was expected, but the words that were scarred into you was worst than he thought. He wanted to throw up, he could understand the werewolf one - you are paying for his condition.

“Can you explain to me the other-?”

“Please don’t hate me!” That was your immediate response.

It wasn’t the confident response that Remus has in mind, he didn’t care if you were gay - you were still his son and he wouldn’t see you any differently. After all, he was a werewolf and you didn’t care at all - and he was considered a threat. 

He hoped that if you ever had the need to come out to him, he was expecting you to send him a letter that you were bringing home your boyfriend to meet him because you were so confident that your dad would welcome him with open arms. But, not this.

“(Y/n), I would never hate you for being gay,” Remus spoke firmly, “I love you with all my heart and you liking boys wouldn’t change the fact.”

“But-”

“My darling boy,” He says softly, “Were you afraid of my reaction because of the fear that Umbridge had instilled in you?”

You didn’t respond but that was enough for him to understand the situation as he sighs, rubbing his thumb on your forehead before bringing it close to his lips, placing a family peck upon your temple.

“I’m not mad nor will ever be mad, okay?” You nodded, it doesn’t settle the anxiety in you and Remus knows that, “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

Remus changes the topic, get you to relax first before forwarding the situation with you and the fear you had. You looked at him confused at the sudden change of topic before softly smiling to yourself at the thought of your boyfriend.

“It’s Seamus.”

“Seamus?” Remus says, narrowing his eyes, “The pyromantic maniac?”

You nod.

“Well, I guess it’s not Draco,” Remus says as you smiled at your dad, who gives you the same loving smile, “Though, when we’re able to have visitors - we’re not allowing Seamus to use magic. I cannot risk having someone blowing up the house!”

“I mean, that is fair,” You agreed with him, Remus chuckles, “You promise you’re not mad?”

“There’s nothing to be mad about, son, now are you more comfortable to talk about your hand?”

You looked at him, it was now or later and you didn’t want to experience the dread of that conversation. You take a deep inhale and exhale before giving Remus a nod. Your dad perched himself on your bed, preparing to hear your story. 

“I want to hear how you and Seamus got together first, actually.” 

“Really dad?”

[tearsofgrace]

endings are hard... but they aren’t impossible

tldr; the good place fucking nailed the finale, supernatural completely and utterly bombed it.

tags: wc--4.5k, gif heavy, spn meta, the good place, supernatural finale, spn wank, all gifs are mine, if you read til the end there’s a pretty gif

so i recently finished the good place (i was watching w my family and we finally had time to sit down and watch the last season) and god fucking dammit that ending is FLAWLESS. literally flawless. 

and because i’m, well, me… i spent most of the time during that hour long finale thinking about how supernatural could have had even a fraction of that and avoided so much heartbreak. 

anyways. i decided to compare them. to REALLY compare them. to get into the nitty gritty of why the fuck the good place ending left me feeling, as the finale is all about, sated and complete. and why the spn ending left me confused, lost, broken, betrayed, unable to even enjoy my comfort show at all until a dear friend finally just watched an episode (8.08) start to finish with me. 

so without further ado (always wanted to say that) here’s the good place/supernatural finale meta that no one asked for

comedy

we’ll start small. both these shows have excellent comedy. in extremely different ways… but still

in the good place finale, the comedy was perfect. whether it was jason reappearing in the forest, michael trying to get through The Door, tahani reversing the “hot bod” bit on eleanor, every comedic moment was actually pretty emotional and added something to the show. they deepened characters’ meanings, added to their relationships, and made the audience think as much as they made the audience laugh.

in the spn finale… the comedy was the pie gag. the whole sam shoving pie into dean’s face. beyond this being… like meta as hell (the whole prank thing) it doesn’t have any depth to it.

and to add salt to the wound, this “hilarious” thing happens RIGHT AFTER salmondean have a conversation about missing jack and cas that is equal parts flat and infuriating. the brothers, in particular sam about jack and dean about cas, should care more. this is their family. and family is everything to them. but, no, by all means pie dean in the face.

last lines

this one IRKS me. okay. 

the last line of the good place  "I'll say this to you, my friend, with all the love in my heart and all the wisdom of the universe: Take it sleazy.” “All right.”  is ICONIC. okay?

it’s a reference to season 1 that doesn’t feel fan-servicey. it’s kinda honestly emotional cuz it’s like a message to us, the audience. it perfectly completes michael’s arc. it captures the light-hearted vibe of the show while also somehow managing to be poignant. you can see it coming like the second before it happens but it’s also not the obvious choice. it’s just. goddamn it’s good.

the last line of supernatural…. is… “and cut.” not even said by one of j2. i mean i know it’s a meta show but COME ON ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??????????

now i hear you shouting wait but that’s just the end of the thank you message. okay fine whatever. in that case the last lines are “Hey, Sammy.” “Dean.” (i couldn’t bring myself to gif that moment)

i’m sorry but. that’s predictable. that’s obvious. that’s boring. that’s flat. sure, it celebrates the bond between the brothers. but like… that’s not what this show is about anymore. it’s not just about sam and dean winchester it’s about what they’ve created. it’s about the world they’ve saved, the family they’ve made, about how they always keep fighting but nope we get bland, boring, coulda seen ‘em coming from miles away lines for the very end. that’s fine.

montages

the spn finale is like 50% montages that don’t make sense and are poorly done and not emotional

the good place has a montage of michael being human that brought me to tears

timing

here’s another short section. the good place finale was 53 minutes long as opposed to the usual 20 minute long runtime of every episode. granted, the fandom of the good place is very different, but STILL there was no documentary telling the fans things they ALREADY knew (there was a short special after the ep, but the episode itself was still far longer than normal). it was 53 minutes of plot. of really fucking good not rushed plot. 

the supernatural finale was… what 36 minutes long?? as opposed to the normal 40 minute runtime?? granted, we did get an hour long documentary of things we’ve all heard in cons and interviews a billion times so hey. take what you can get i guess.

character arcs

this is most of the meat of this meta. one thing we’ve all been harping on a TON is how they RUINED character arcs. soooo let’s go through and juxtapose some character arcs shall we

eleanor

eleanor shellstrop starts the show completely self-obsessed. she died getting hit by shopping carts while picking up margarita mix and let’s be real she’s a total icon. love her to death. she grows a ton, becomes one of the most selfless characters on the show, and starts to actually (jack forbid) CARE about things. it’s one of the most satisfying and relatable character arcs i’ve ever seen. 

it’s not just her selfishness either, her character is super multi-faceted and complex, and i feel like even in the end we’re getting to know her better. she’s afraid of commitment, always worried about what others’ actions will do to her, loves the trivial side of life, is queer as fuck (as acknowledged by the show in a way that’s not harmful at all but also isn’t explicitly bi/pan/unlabeled/omni etc, allowing queer fans to see their own identity in her), and is all around a HUMAN BEING. her ending at the beginning of the show was her death. her stupid, trivial, meaningless death where she was, as she puts it, all alone. and her final ending ISNT that. yes, everyone goes before her. and i think that’s purposeful. to show that she’s grown enough that being alone in some sense is okay.

but she’s never TRULY alone. and in the end. the REAL end. janet is there. the whole time. because eleanor asked her to be!! she got over her crazy need for independence and simply asked for help. and eleanor dies an amazing person that has become selfless, has found joy in philosophy while still enjoying trashy content, has fixed her relationship with her mother, and has found a sense of completion. eleanor’s life ends on her terms, and it’s beautiful.

dean

alright. now just as you’re feeling all warm and fuzzy let’s look at dean winchester’s ending. you’ve heard it a million times, so i’ll be brief. dean was raised to be a hunter, a soldier, a killing machine with no feelings and no purpose. he was raised to die scared on a hunt, his life over because of some mistake he made because he will NEVER measure up. at least that’s what john and everyone else told him with the exceptions of some of his family (and family don’t end in blood). he started to accept that he didn’t have to have this. he started to realize that he could CHOOSE what his ending was. 

the beautiful thing is, we never truly got to see what that was. i personally like to think it’s similar to the roadhouse michael locked him in while he was trapped in his own mind. a safe place for hunters, somewhere he (and cas in my opinion, but that’s not important) could settle down and still be in the life. it would be an amazing tribute to jo and ellen, and just all around a great ending. he wouldn’t have to be scared, but he wouldn’t have to conform to some apple pie facade of normalcy. and ya know what?? say that he died so he could have peace i dare you. because dean doesn’t find peace until sam is there anyway so i beg of you WHAT WAS THE FUCKING POINT. 

dean winchester died scared. dean winchester died on a hunt. dean winchester died on one of john’s old hunts. dean winchester died not directly at the hands of a monster, but at the hands of a mistake. his mistake. dean winchester died without ever working through the trauma of his best friend in the entire world confessing his love in a final act of self-sacrifice. dean winchester died in a way that leaves a sour taste in my mouth and does not at all show the audience what he’s been through and how much he’s grown. dean winchester did not die on his terms, and he deserved better.

chidi

okay back to happy. chidi anagonye. by far my personal favorite good place character (don’t tell anyone i always say jason cuz he and i are very similar). chidi in the last few episodes is SO DRASTICALLY different than the chidi we meet at the beginning. he’s decisive, confident, self-assured, and it’s amazing to see. he’s not afraid of life anymore. he’s not afraid to make the wrong decision and forever alter his reality, because he’s okay with failure. 

at the beginning, chidi was so petrified of life that… it killed him. and in the end, he’s completely at peace with every decision he makes, even the final one. yes, he considered staying for eleanor, but that just shows how his moral code and his compassion for others is still very much still intact. it shows the audience that you can be confident and decisive without being a selfish asshole.��

chidi leaves the good place knowing that it’s the right thing to do. knowing without a doubt that his time has come. the old chidi never would have been able to fathom being that sure about something. it’s beautiful. it’s a development that can give the audience peace, can show them that this drastic of change is possible, and that chidi became a better person for all of it. chidi went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

sam

… this one might be controversial… but sam winchester. god i hated sam’s ending. at first i was kinda okay with it. like, okay fine he got his normal life. but, really, in the end that’s not what sam wanted. he started to realize that he didn’t need that apple pie, white picket fence life. he didn’t need the wife and the kids and the backyard and the barbecues because that is NOT sam’s personality and i will throw hands on that. 

that’s not to say he doesn’t want some sort of romance, maybe even kids, but not in that way. he lets himself see that he doesn’t need to be defined by his rebellion to john. doesn’t need to be defined by going to college or any of those “normal” smart kid things because it doesn’t fit him. and that’s okay! but how does sam’s story end? it ends with a wife (that isn’t even important enough to show her face). with kids. with a goddamn white picket fence. we think he’s still hunting to some extent… but it’s not the arc we were led to believe would happen. it’s not this amazing leader sam that we see in season 12-14, uniting hunters and organizing them. 

he had SO MUCH potential and they throw it away on a vanilla ending that shows only surface level pain at losing his brother. he doesn’t even invite the rest of their family to the wake for fuck’s sake. jared did an incredible job. pls don’t think i’m saying he didn’t. but that script…. sam winchester’s arc was cut short. he didn’t go on his terms, and he deserved better.

jason

jason mandoza. the only character that has ever embodied my complete dumbass energy to the insane extent that it exists. he went to hell for his impulsivity. he never thought before a decision. i aspire to be as reckless as jason while on earth. but he LEARNED. he got better, just like they all did. and by the end of the show, jason doesn’t need to be impulsive anymore. much like eleanor being left “alone,” the show does a masterful job with making him be the first one to go, capturing his old impulsiveness. but he chooses to leave. he takes his time in deliberation, waiting until a feeling of peace, of completion, of well, ‘true happiness’ (sorry cas stans, i’m right there with you) has settled over him. 

the ending of his story is one of growth, just like all these characters have been. and the best part? the show makes it comedic in the most poignant and beautiful way, because it’s jason, it had to be funny. we learn that jason has been in the woods for like, eons, just waiting to go through the door because he wants to give janet a necklace. he’s learned to simply wait. to be at peace with… nothing. his torture was being a monk, but in the end, jason embodies those ideals. his arc comes to fruition in an extremely satisfying way. jason goes on his own terms, and it’s beautiful.

castiel

this one is gonna hurt like a bitch. castiel is my comfort character. he’s my role model. he’s me in a lot of ways. i love him. so fucking much. so excuse me if this is slightly incoherent. i’m actually okay with cas’ ending… in a way. because his actual ending as an on-screen character? perfect. self-sacrifice while coming out and professing his love to dean winchester. a little bit bury the gays, but let’s be real, it’s supernatural. and “happiness is in just saying it” has to be the most powerful way to think of coming out. it takes away the fear, it takes away so much of the pain that can follow. because the joy is in just saying the words.

it’s how this was treated on the show that makes cas’ character arc terrible (and we haven’t even gotten to 15.20). YOU CANNOT JUST IGNORE A LOVE CONFESSION. that is god awful writing and i will never change my mind on that. cas deserved his family to care about him. to at least address and be sad about the fact he was gone. jesus fucking christ after everything castiel deserved at least that. and then we go to 15.20. cas is in heaven. cas is serving god. cas is right back where he started. now, i’m coming off a little strong. 

if the show had decided to show us cas and jack in heaven makin’ the world a better place… i woulda come around to it. i woulda realized that that’s not REALLY erasing 12 years of character development and cas realizing that his whole identity isn’t just him serving heaven and isn’t just him being an angel and that he’s so much more than all of that and he could still be happy as a human… because really he’s with his son. but they didn’t show us that. they barely even mentioned him. and to me. that counts as a bad character arc. and i’m sorry if you disagree. castiel may have gone on his own terms, but they treated that beautiful sacrifice with disrespect and disdain, plus resolved his arc by putting him back where he started. he deserved better.

tahani

*deep breaths guys this is a long post i’m sorry* anywayyyy tahani!!! we love tahani obviously. let’s talk about her arc, because it always kinda bothered me. throughout the show, we see all the other character’s growing and expanding their knowledge of right and wrong. and, don’t get me wrong. we see tahani grow a lot. but she makes a lot of the same types of comments and shit like that. but it’s how she treats the reactions to those comments. by the end of the show, she laughs at the caricature of herself that the others see. she isn’t looking for vindication in name-dropping, she just does it. she is far less self-absorbed, and is genuinely interested in those around her. she fixes her relationships with her sister and her parents in a way that doesn’t feel forced and actually feels like a beautiful, healthy family reunion. 

she has a list and she does everything on it. it’s worth noting, that the things on her list are not at all what they would have been at the beginning of the show. most of them are humble “labor” type tasks, and all of them are in self improvement. tahani’s end on the show is not the same as everyone else’s. she realizes that she doesn’t need to be done. that there doesn’t have to be an end to self-improvement. and she becomes an architect. the writers perfectly embody her transformation from a self-obsessed rich girl who has never done a thing for herself and laughs at the lower-class to a down-to-earth worker that simply doesn’t want the journey to end. 

it’s incredible how perfectly the writers were able to close off these character arc’s without it feeling forced, and without ignoring their character development. imagine that. tahani chooses her own way, and it’s beautiful.

jack

jack’s ending may be the only one that i’ve actually somewhat come to terms with. it’s not terrible. it’s not great. but it’s not nearly as bad. because ignoring that awful monologue about every drop of rain and shit, jack really does end up helping people. he ends up doing something that he loves and that makes the world a better place. and he doesn’t lose his personality in it. but. i dunno, that’s still his destiny, right? to create paradise. and this is a show about ripping up the rule book, about choosing free will above all else… so to have every single character just fulfill their destiny is cheap. 

still… i’ll try to be unbiased. because really at the beginning of jack’s time on the show, he’s unsure what he wants. and at least, in the end, he’s sure. he has a wisdom that he’s always had but he’s now using. and i’m good with that. but what’s NOT okay about jack’s ending is the lack of on-screen family. jack learns that family is important. sam, cas, dean those are the people he cares about. and you’re telling me he would just NEVER see them again? and be okay with that? i know he rebuilds heaven with cas, but we don’t even get a story about him rescuing cas from the empty. and he seems in 15.19 to not be that concerned about it (after the amazing emotional scene at the beginning). jack should have cared about his family. he did. but they ruined that for him. so jack kline deserved better.

michael

oh man where do i start. michael’s growth is the biggest on the show. i mean. he starts as a literal demon and ends a human. he gets better, he falls in love with humanity (*castiel fan in me sobbing again*) and he chooses over and over to be good instead of bad. his whole arc is a classic redemption arc, and every single beat just gets better. he chooses selfishly to side with humans but in the end it turns out to be the best decision he could have made. because he develops emotions, he develops compassion, he develops a moral compass. 

and his end reflects that. because to complete this arc of a demon becoming more human… he literally becomes human!!!! it fits so well. and he’s allowed to make mistakes and be happy and gain all that humanity has to offer. this just shows that human!endgame for cosmic beings that become more human WORKS SO WELL (and it shoulda happened for cas and jack that’s all i’m saying). michael went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

eileen

oh boy… this one stings. because they brought her back, used her up, and we never saw her again. eileen was one of the best side characters on the show, and they rarely addressed her arc. she comes onto the show as a hunter seeking revenge, and gets that revenge in the same episode. her s15 arc is focused on what’s real and what’s not, with her relationship to sam admittedly being a central part of her character because… it’s supernatural and women can’t exist without that. but still! eileen grows throughout the show and in the end… we don’t even know what happens to her. it’s as if her arc wasn’t important enough to even glance at. 

it’s as if the connections the boys make outside of each other mean nothing when in reality they mean everything. they prove that the co-dependency is behind them and that family doesn’t end with blood and that real connections can be formed between people that last a lifetime. eileen was a disabled hunter that was shown to still be one of the best in the business, and they didn’t even give her the courtesy of a goodbye. eileen didn’t go on her own terms, and she deserved better.

janet

this is gonna unbalance my list but goddammit janet’s ending was perfect. she was a not-robot, not-girl that should have been incapable of feelings. but throughout the series we get to watch as she learns first-hand about human emotions and processes them. she cares about the humans in her charge and fights for them on multiple counts. 

in the end, we see janet come to terms with both her cosmic being side, and her human side. she never stops being with the “cockroaches.” she sees them all leave, she’s there for them while they’re there, and she also continues to speak her mind and live autonomously. janet was a non-human character done right. she lived on her own terms, and it was beautiful.

some honorable mentions

spn ignored (in the finale) chuck, amara, stevie, charlie, jody, donna, garth, bess, the other angels, claire, kaia, patience, alex, and the list goes ON in favor of focusing on JUST sam and dean. did none of those characters at least deserve a quick goodbye??????

the good place wrapped up multiple arcs i had completely forgotten about in a totally natural and not forced way. mindy, doug forester, (the mushroom guy, i know, it took me a second), pillboy, donkey doug, kamilah, tahani’s parents, eleanor’s mother, eleanor’s friends, chidi’s best friend, vicki, shawn, glenn, simone and so many that i’m forgetting all got satisfying ends that they totally deserved. 

they even fucking resolved FROG GUY’S arc and gave him a real frog. that’s right. frog guy (jeff) had a better character arc resolution than dean motherfucking winchester. 

heaven and hell

obviously in very different vehicles, both shows explore in depth the realities of the afterlife. and lemme tell ya, at the end of the day, one sits a whole lot better than the other. 

the good place finale ends this quest for the perfect afterlife by saying that everyone can improve and that an eternal paradise shouldn’t keep you from eternal rest. they pretty much make me wish that this is what our afterlife looked like. they handle everything with care so it’s balanced precariously in a way that doesn’t give you anxiety looking at it but instead fills you with peace and faith in humanity. 

supernatural addresses this series long battle between heaven and hell by creating a heaven where you drive for forty years without seeing the people (cough cough cas and jack not his parents) that matter to you and drink beer that tastes like shit. a place you can’t be happy or find any sense of peace until your brother has died and he’s there too.

and hell… well they barely even address it. there’s a new queen of hell i guess? but so what. it’s still very much heaven and hell in a way that’s the worst and hey plus to them… makes me wanna stay alive thank you very much. oh and purgatory is in shambles and not functioning properly cuz all that eve bullshit.

loose ends

whenever something is ending, you gotta tie up the loose ends. not in a “oh, we must wrap everything up and leave no stone unturned” kinda way but in a “wow, we should probably try to make this unambiguous because this is the last time we will ever see these characters” kinda way. 

the good place does that. so fucking masterfully. all these side plots with all these different characters were taken care of all while focusing on the main six characters. we get to see how their intervention has changed everyone else. for example, mindy’s arc is wrapped up perfectly, with eleanor going to save her.

plus different running jokes like “take it sleazy” are wrapped up, we revisit really old callbacks like the original neighborhood, and all of it feels natural and in the moment. it feels like full circle in a way that doesn’t erase growth. 

supernatural, on the other hand, left a million loose ends open. what happened to the boys they saved? where the fuck are jody, donna, etc.? did eileen make it back? cuz sam was pretty upset about that. what happened to it “being loud” in the empty? hell, what happened to the empty? what happened to hell? what about chuck? it woulda been nice to see just for a second what became of him. did charlie and stevie make it (i’m very invested in that relationship)? if we’re taking the original ending… why the fuck is jimmy there? did kansas just all,,, die? 

i’m not saying they needed to address everything… but god a few wrapped up storylines besides the brothers wouldn’t have hurt

coloring

can i just… real quick… as a giffer lodge a complaint

the good place has beautiful vibrant coloring in the finale

spn has like bland washed out whatever the fuck that is coloring. it’s not even the dark early aesthetic cuz they dropped that it’s just… ew. so. do with that what you will. 

conclusion

first… while writing this i realized just HOW MUCH it’s not about destiel… like believe me. i knew i wasn’t just pissed about destiel. but holy shit it’s not destiel at all like did i even mention destiel that much???? this was never about a ship. this was just a trash finale. 

in the end. the good place writers knew what they were doing. they knew their fans, they knew their characters, they knew their world, and they knew how to wrap it up in a way that was satisfying and sad and perfectly fit the tone of the whole show. it wasn’t out of character or rushed, basically every loose end was tied up without the audience even realizing that’s what they were doing, and i feel happy and complete having watched it. 

the supernatural ending was a betrayal. flat out. to the audience that has stuck by it in a way bigger way than the good place fandom. to the characters that have helped so many people. to the actors that have given so much of their lives. to the other members of the crew, to certain writers… all of it was just a slap in the face.

we deserved better guys. there are better endings possible. so i’m sorry. i really am. but i guess… that’s what fanfic is for, right?

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

endlessly

or, the one-shot that wouldn’t get out of my head where jack is a baby, cas is back, and he and dean have a talk. s13 :) this is a long one, so part of it is going under the cut! 

--------------

Things are strange. 

Of course, things are often strange in Castiel’s life, especially these days. For one, he just got brought back from the dead. For another, he rode in the passenger’s seat of the Impala on the way back to the bunker. Sam drove, because when Dean tried to drive, the baby in the backseat--Jack, that’s Jack--started crying, and Dean had to switch spots and let Jack’s tiny hand wrap around one of his fingers. Only then did Jack stop crying.

As soon as they got back to the bunker, Dean went to put Jack to bed, leaving Castiel in the kitchen with Sam. That’s where Castiel is now, watching Sam putter around, cleaning up things that don’t need to be cleaned. There’s clearly something on his mind.

“You and Dean should talk,” Sam finally says.

“We usually do talk,” Castiel replies, unsure of what, exactly, Sam means. 

“I mean, really talk. Look--” Sam stops, grabs two beers out of the fridge and slides one across the island to Castiel, before continuing. “Dean gets...things get bad for him when you’re gone. Without Jack to take care of, I think he would have...” Sam doesn’t finish the sentence, but Castiel has a feeling he knows where it was headed. 

“Is Jack always like that?” Castiel asks.

“Obsessed with Dean? Yeah. I mean, things are still kinda complicated with Mom, and I’m not great with kids, but Dean...” Sam sighs. “I mean, he had to take care of me constantly when I was a baby. He’s always been really good with kids, better at expressing himself. And he and Jack...I mean, if Dean’s not with him, Jack gets really upset.”

“Wow,” Castiel says. He remembers a few years ago, helping Claire out, and how quickly Claire and Dean cottoned onto each other. And stories he’s heard from before he knew the Winchesters (sometimes it’s hard to believe there was a time in his life before them) where kids had been involved on a hunt and Dean saved the day.

Perhaps it’s only natural.

“But yeah,” Sam takes a deep swig of his beer. “Go find him and talk. I bet Jack is asleep by now.”

“Right.”

Castiel still feels odd, wrong-footed, though. It should be easy to talk to Dean--Dean’s one of his best friends, someone he would do anything for, has done anything for. 

But he’s also Dean, someone who can be complicated and feels things deeply, and if he’s been feeling bad enough to contemplate--

Castiel doesn’t know what to say to that.

He finds Dean in his room, sprawled out on the bed with a sleeping Jack next to him. There are beer bottles and a couple of whiskey bottles littering Dean’s nightstand, an overflowing wastebasket in the corner.

Sam was right. Things haven’t been great. 

Dean’s eyes flutter open when he hears Cas enter and he sits up, saying softly, “I know sleeping with babies can be bad, cuz I read one of those books you got, but he just...” Dean turns his gaze to Jack. “He doesn’t go to sleep unless I do this.”

Castiel nods.

Dean carefully scoops Jack up and carries him over to the crib in the corner of the room. The whole scene is both painfully domestic and painfully Dean, and it causes something in Castiel’s chest to twinge. 

“But he’s out like a light now,” Dean says. “He’s already better at sleeping, it’s like he knows I don’t get much even without a crying baby.”

“Hm,” Castiel agrees. “Dean, can we talk?”

“Uh, sure? Let’s go somewhere else.” Dean takes one last look at Jack’s swaddled form and then leads Castiel out of his bedroom and to another room, which Cas has never been in before and is barren except for some armchairs and a foosball table.

“What’s this?” Cas asks as they settle into the armchairs.

“It’s...I dunno, a rec room or something. Thinking of putting a TV in here so we could watch movies. I’ve been calling it the Deancave and Sam has been getting annoyed with me.” Dean cracks a smile at a that. “Whaddya want to to talk about?”

“I, uh...” Castiel shrugs. “Sam just said I should talk to you.”

“Dirty traitor. Of course he did.” Dean frowns.

“We don’t have to if you don't want to, I just thought--”

“No, no, this’ll--I need to say this shit.” Dean swallows, before saying, “So, do you remember, about a year or so after we met, when we were trying to get the Colt back and gank Lucifer?”

“I do,” Castiel says, now completely unsure of where Dean is going with this.

“Well, I...I got zapped to the future. Or a future, I guess, by Zachariah. It was...2014 there, the world was overrun by this plague and zombies, Sam was...gone, he had said yes to Lucifer for good, and I met another version of myself who was...he wasn’t a great guy. Pretty cold and ruthless, willing to use people he cared about as bait or put them in harm’s way. He didn’t care about much anymore.” “I assume I wasn’t in this world?” Castiel asks.

“No, you were.” Now Dean looks genuinely pained. “You had lost almost all of your grace, and you spent your days...drinking and doing drugs and having sex. You had lost the trench coat and you were...different. You still thought I was pretty cool, though, and the other Dean, the Dean from that you’s time, he hated that.” 

“I see.” Something is coming into focus.

“You were Cas, but you weren’t my Cas,” Dean says, the emphasis on the my weighty.

“Was this the same night that you told me to never change?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighs. “It was. Something that the other you said, it just...it hit me. And I couldn’t let that happen to you, and I couldn’t let myself be the guy that made it worse. He said that the only thing you and that Dean had left was each other, that if the other me said it was time to go, then you would follow him. And I tried to talk to the future me about it, ask him why he was willing to put you in harm’s way just because you would follow him. He...he didn’t have an answer.”

“I have changed, though, Dean,” Castiel says after a moment. “And not in a bad way.”

“Yeah, but you coulda become that guy.” Dean’s fidgeting now, uncomfortable. “Anyways, after that it was...yeah. You know how things went, you were there. A lot of shit went down, and I tried not to think about that future I saw.”

“I see.”

There’s a vast, empty silence in the room as Castiel contemplates what Dean has told him. He wants to ask follow-up questions, figure out what, exactly, Dean means by what he’s said, but it’s rare that Dean is so open and calm about it, and Castiel doesn’t want to break the spell. He wants Dean to, what’s the phrase? Level with him. 

“And then we went to purgatory,” Dean continues suddenly. “And I spent a year looking for you and found you all dirty and scruffy--you still had that trench coat but you looked like him. I was...starting to realize something, I guess? I mean, Benny helped me find you, and one night we were just hanging out, doing stuff, and he asked me what my deal was about you. I told him, I said you were one of my best friends, hell, just straight-up my best friend.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said I was full of shit, that no one spends a year in purgatory for a friend. I told him to shut the hell up, but he was right.”

This isn’t happening. This would never happen, because Castiel has heard that it won’t. The Empty’s words from when he was dead echo in his head.

I know who you hate. I know who you love. There is nothing for you back there.

But maybe there is.

“There isn’t any use in trying to hide it from you,” Dean says. “You saw all the bottles. Every time you leave...I tell myself it’s because you’re like family, and you are, but not quite--” 

Castiel is tired of waiting, tired of having a weight lodged in his chest, and he hates how agitated and small Dean looks, so before he can fully think out what he’s doing, he’s standing up and then leaning over Dean’s chair, his face inches from Dean’s.

He waits.

“There’s--there’s no way,” Dean says, breathless. 

“There is.” Castiel swallows, hopes he hasn’t miscalculated.

He determines a moment later when Dean seizes him by his collar and pulls him all the way down into a kiss that he did not, in fact, miscalculate. 

It’s clumsy and messy, because of the angle and the nerves and all of the waiting, but Castiel doesn’t particularly care, and he’s getting the impression that Dean doesn’t, either. 

“Please don’t leave again,” Dean whispers into Castiel’s neck when they finally separate.

“I won’t,” Castiel promises. “Although I still can’t promise to never change.”

“That’s a good thing,” Dean replies. “I know that. Now.” 

Castiel doesn’t sleep, but when Dean finally heads back to his room to check on Jack and then try and get his four hours, Dean grabs Castiel by the trench coat sleeve. He stays, takes the pair of pajamas Dean sheepishly offers, finds himself curled around Dean in the big bed that doesn’t seem so big anymore. Neither Dean or Jack wake up all night. 

Castiel may not sleep, but he does sink into a fairly deep meditative state in the quiet darkness of Dean’s room. He “comes to” an indeterminate amount of time later to see that the room is empty, save him, and that all the bottles and trash are gone.

He pads into the hallway, still in that pair of Dean’s pajamas, and hears voices coming from the kitchen. He follows them to find Sam sitting at the table, talking to Dean, who’s standing at the stove with Jack swaddled and wrapped to his chest. Castiel feels his face reddening as his chest expands, and he makes a beeline for the table and sits across from Sam.

“I see you had that talk,” Sam whispers, grinning. 

“We did.” Castiel can’t help but smile back.

“Anyone not want bacon?” Dean asks from the stove, and Castiel and Sam both shake their heads. 

Castiel could get used to this, and he hopes he gets the chance to. 

[mimik-u]

Togetherness

Summary: The aftermath of Steven transforming into a huge reptilian monster brings back old memories for Pearl, who remembers another time Steven was scared so many years ago.

A/N: This piece was written for the Pearl-focused I am a Pearl! mini-zine a couple of months ago! It was a great opportunity to get to explore Pearl's mind space after the events of "I am My Monster" and how her friendship with Greg has evolved over the years. ;w; Thanks to the mods for a great zine experience! <3

AO3 Link / Zine Tumblr Link / @iamapearlzine

—

Steven is sixteen years old when he erupts into a scaly, pink monster—fifty-foot tall and inconsolable.

Everyone tells him that they love him, but because words are rarely ever enough, they show him that they do; they embrace him; they hold him; they press their fingertips into his reptilian skin. His scales are cold and sharp against Pearl’s palms, keratin hard and impenetrable. She tells him that he shouldn’t have to keep anything from her, all the while burning with shame that he’s kept so much from her.

He’s felt responsible for her fragility and loved her enough to tiptoe around the Diamond in the room.

His mother.

His mother and the complicated history between them.

The love.

The torture.

The grief.

The love.

(Because what is grief after all but a manifestation of love? A reminder, its echo, and its painful, lingering, lovely ghost.)

Connie kisses Steven, very lightly, very softly, and he falls from the sky, a boy again. 

Pearl wraps him in a blanket.

Garnet carries him into the wreckage of their home.

And approximately one hour later, they’re all standing on the deck, waiting for Priyanka Maheswaran to finish her professional assessment of him as the sun sinks into a honey-colored sea.

Pearl cradles her face in her hands, elbows sinking into the railing, trying to retrace every missed sign in the blackness of her own head. She sees his skin glowing pink in the darkness—at the Reef, in Little Homeworld, just moments ago in the living room…

So many flares in the night.

And Pearl had watched them all fizzle.

—

Steven is six years old when he moves into the newly minted beach house, and he tells Greg that he’s afraid of the silence. Nearly all of his life, he’s been surrounded by noise—the gentle rumble of the van’s motor, the susurrant murmur of the sea, wind, rain, buskers playing guitars on the Boardwalk, the whoosh of the rollercoasters at Funland. 

His dad’s snores echoing off the tin ceiling.

His dad’s laughter.

His softly-sung lullabies, too.

The beach house is really quiet at night, Steven tells Greg who tells the Gems, and he doesn’t like that…

He’s trying really hard to like it, though.

Maybe things’ll get better next week.

Pearl never looks at Greg as he delivers this news, tapping her fingers against the side of her leg as she sits at the kitchen table, ankles primly crossed. He stands in the doorway—right beneath Rose’s painted image—wringing his hands and looking too awkward to be allowed. She resents him for this—for his awkwardness, for his intrusion into their lives, and for everything else, too. 

(Namely for Rose.)

She inwardly knows that she’s being unfair. 

That loathing a person on the basis of his existence is morally suspect.

Wrong.

But what are rightness and wrongness to emotions? To the sheer primality of grief?

Grief is irrational, she rationalizes to herself—she self-justifies; it knows nothing of ethicality.

“Why didn’t Steman tell us this?” Amethyst asks, absently scratching her nose. “If it’s noise he wants, I got an old drum set he can knock himself out on.”

Pearl frowns, well-remembering the ten straight years Amethyst played the drums through the nineties. Rose loved it; Pearl spent many hours alone in her room to decompress. 

“He’s still intimidated by you three,” Greg shrugs kindly. “And shy. You just have to give him reason enough to trust ya with stuff like this. Tucking him in at bed at night, y’know. Checking under the bed for monsters.”

“There aren’t monsters under his bed,” Garnet says, practical as ever. “They wouldn’t fit.”

Greg chuckles, running a flat hand across the back of his neck as he peers between the three gems. When he and Pearl lock eyes, she meets his stare coldly, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

“But Steven doesn’t know that,” he mumbles, glancing away, his cheeks flushing. “You gotta shine a flashlight down there and show him there’s nothing there.”

“Doesn’t that seem patronizing to you?” Pearl asks, taking little care to disguise the condescension in her voice. Across the room, Garnet’s visored stare finds her—blank, inscrutable, and arcane—but Pearl knows her fellow gem well enough to understand that this is chastisement, silent and brutal.

Arching a thin brow, she ignores Garnet.

She demands an answer from Greg.

“Maybe,” the man concedes, but when he acknowledges her gaze again, there’s a little defiance in his eyes, an edge in his scratchy voice. “But maybe not. That’s what being a parent is sometimes. Patronizing the kid! Playing along. Showing him that you’re listening to what he needs. Letting him know that you’re there… haven’t you ever been afraid before, Pearl?”

“No,” she protests immediately, bristling.

“Pssh,” Amethyst snorts. “Last week, you jumped ten feet in the air ‘cuz you saw a snake.”

“You did,” Garnet smiles wryly. “I was there.”

Pearl scoffs, trying and failing to ignore that her cheeks are suffused with blue blush…

… and that Greg is staring at her with an almost distinguishable emotion in his eyes.

If she didn’t know better, she would say it was pity.

—

Dr. Maheswaran tells them that Steven is okay; he’s tired and sore—transforming expended a lot of his energy—but he’s ready to see everyone now. She tells them to be quiet and to maybe go in one by one, so he doesn’t get too overwhelmed.

Firmly, she warns them that it’ll take more than a good night’s sleep for him to heal .

And she doesn’t mean physically.

“Here’s a number of a good therapist I know,” she says, placing a card in Pearl’s hand. “Her office opens at nine.”

Pearl folds her fingertips over the edges of the glossy card stock but doesn’t quite glance down to look at the name—too fixated on watching Greg stand in front of the doorway, palming the screen door as he seemingly steels himself to go in. 

He’s aged so much in the twenty-something years that Pearl has known him—from his nearly bald head to the branching lines creasing the corners of his eyes—but for some reason, it is only now, in this ephemeral moment, that she realizes how old he is.

She doesn’t mean physically either.

As the others gather around Dr. Maheswaran, asking her questions, voicing their concerns, Pearl takes one deliberate step and then another.

—

Garnet tells Steven that it’s okay—there are no monsters under the bed—and when she shines a flashlight beneath the mattress, Amethyst is there, shapeshifted into a tiny kitten, purring at the child sweetly.

“See, dude?” She laughs, bounding out from beneath the bed. In an instant of blurred matter and color, she becomes herself again, her bangs sweeping inelegantly over her eye. “No monsters under the bed, only cute kittens.”

“Only kittens?” He repeats, grinning that famous gap-toothed smile that everyone adores. His legs are nearly swallowed by his oversized shirt.

“Kittens and dust bunnies,” Amethyst confirms, knuckling his curls playfully and smiling broadly when he laughs. “G’night, Steman.”

“Night, Amethyst!”

“Goodnight, Steven,” Garnet murmurs, lifting the six-year old into her arms and gently placing him onto the bed. She tucks him beneath the covers. She tenderly kisses him on the head.

“Nighty night, Garnet.”

And then it’s Pearl’s turn. Garnet and Amethyst head towards their temple rooms, and Pearl settles down on the edge of the comforter, balancing her left ankle on top of her right knee.

“Don’t forget about M.C. Bear Bear!” She teases softly, reaching over and placing the stuffed animal next to Steven’s arm. “He needs a snuggle buddy.”

Steven nods in agreement, his brow furrowed seriously over his eyes.

“Yep,” he says importantly. “I’ll be sure to hug him tight.”

“Excellent,” she says primly.

“Excellent,” he echoes playfully.

She lightly skims her knuckles across his soft cheek, smiling when he giggles a little, always ticklish…

… but then, when she withdraws her hand, letting it fall away from his face, the moment that immediately follows is quiet.

Too much so.

So quiet that Pearl can hear the softness of Steven’s breath, quiet enough that Greg’s words from earlier haunt her in the absence of noise.

Haven’t you ever been afraid before, Pearl?

Contrary to what Garnet and Amethyst may believe, she isn’t afraid of snakes —pestilent creatures though they are.

She’s surprised by snakes.

And afraid of much bigger things—five-thousand-year old secrets and equally ancient insecurities, for instance.

Six thousand years ago, after all, she was coded to believe that her highest order in life was to be a slave.

And sometimes—if only sometimes—she fears that her weaknesses were ingrained then, in the very moment she emerged from a shell and was called a pearl

One of so many.

Disposable.

Programmable.

Objectified.

Sometimes, she barely knows what it means to be herself, much less what it means to be a parent .

Indeed, Greg Universe of all people seems to have the idea down better than she ever could.

So, yes, Greg, she is afraid.

(Afraid of failing Steven.)

(Terrified that she’s already failed her. )

Patronize him, Greg suggested.

Play with him.

Show him that you’re listening.

Let him know that you’re there.

—

“Greg?”

Pearl places a light hand on Greg’s arm, startling him from his trance as he turns around to face her.

“Pearl!” He exhales, his breath coming in short bursts. “Y’scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” she says sincerely, not quite moving her hand away yet. His skin is warm beneath her fingertips, soft like wave-washed sand. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yes,” he returns immediately, and then—taking one look at her imperiously raised brow—just as quickly rectifies himself. “No. I don’t know. I’m freakin’ terrified, Pearl. I feel like a failure of a parent. I don’t know what to tell him. But I gotta go in there anyway.”

He says it all very rapidly, as though he’s talking to himself.

Encouraging himself.

And putting himself down to do it.

“I’m his dad,” he concludes, his voice breaking, tears standing in his dark eyes. “I’m his dad, and I didn’t… I wasn’t there for him, and I should have—“

“ Shh, ” Pearl cuts across him gently, patting his arm as tears threaten to slide down her own face. “Shh. There are so many hypothetical should haves that we’ll all have to face soon when it comes to Steven. But not today, Greg .”

With her free hand, she conjures a tissue from her gem and hands it to him, unflinching and kind, even when he needs to wipe his nose.

“Today,” she murmurs, her voice inhibited, a hundred emotions thick, “we just let him know that we’re here.”

—

“Pearl?” Steven asks.

Pearl blinks rapidly, coming back to herself; she’d been lost in her own thoughts, nearly consumed.

“Hey,” she smiles, placing her hand on top of Steven’s own. His skin is so warm and soft; she absently wonders if her alienness feels sharp to him… hard… cold… “Here’s an idea—how about I sing you a lullaby before you go to sleep?”

“You know how to sing?” Steven’s eyes widen incredulously, his mouth shaping itself into a delighted smile.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she laughs playfully. “When we were younger, your mother and I used to sing all the time—hymns from our home planet and the like…”

A pause, infinitesimal, hesitant. 

“...I could sing one for you if you’d like?”

“You could?” The child dares to be hopeful; the very emotion shapes the pitch of his question, the light in his eyes.

He has his mother’s eyes.

Dark and full of stars.

“I could,” Pearl repeats. “I’d sing as long as you wanted me to.”

“How about fooooorever?” 

“Let’s just start with until you fall asleep,” Pearl laughs. “That’s a part of forever, yes? This moment?”

“If you say so, Pearl,” he wrinkles his nose skeptically.

“I know so, Steven.”

As she sings him to sleep in her mother tongue, Pearl admits that this must be something that Greg knows, too.

The importance of hereness to a child.

Togetherness on scary nights.

[kentos-filmcamera]

10 times, 1 occasion - Inumaki Toge

5. Misunderstanding

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Even with your victory at the last event of the exchange and your stellar participation in it, you were angry. Not angry, confused. Toge had not spoken to you all morning. He either said his usual words to Maki and Panda or texted them. With you, however, every time he was about to talk to you, he regretted it and turned away. Have you done something? Said something? You spent yesterday and the day before that so well. He never once looked concerned or had given you the cold shoulder. Frustrated, you took off your personalized dirty jersey, only leaving you in the navy protective tight shirt underneath, and cleaned your pants from the orange dirt of the baseball field while walking away behind Maki, Inumaki, and Panda, and in front of Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara. You were almost given an out, but you slid in to secure the second base.

“Calm down” Fushiguro held your wrist down, stopping your aggressive movements. “You guys go ahead,” He told Nobara and Yuuji, who were both staring at you with light concern. When they didn’t move, he ushered them away with his hand.

“I’m fine” You persisted, trying to remove your hand from his grip. He stared you down with severity, as you stared back sternly, trying to take your hand away.

Coming from a community up in a mountain, both Jujutsu schools were far away. However, sorcerers in your family were unable to train you by their amount of occupation on the field or just because they were in retirement. Or dead. So, you were sent to Tokyo every summer to train. You and Megumi were raised in the jujutsu world side by side, so there was an unspoken, true trust between the two of you. You cared for him, he cared for you equally. You knew he was pretty reserved about his feelings, so it wasn’t like he was your personal therapist, or likewise. He noticed right away you were angry and came quickly to your aid when Toge didn’t. Nobara was pretty… observant, to put it kindly, of other people’s businesses. She realized right away when you walked into the common room how Toge looked away when you sat in front of him. Or when everyone’s phone vibrated on the bench except for yours. Or when you hit the ball perfectly for a homerun and Momo didn’t get a chance to catch it as it hit her in the head on its way down, he didn’t cheer for you to catch second base like the others did. Considering the mental shutdown he saw Toge having, Megumi decided it was best to approach you, as you became more visibly upset with each altercation.

“You’re upset” He deadpanned, and all the tension from your body disappeared as you slumped, your head looking directly at the floor. With a sigh, Megumi released your wrist.

“I don’t know what I did, he just won’t even look at me, I’m so scared... '' You sighed, looking up and throwing your arms out in frustration. Fushiguro’s lips tensed even further into a line, a bit sad to see you so frustrated. “Does he not like me anymore? Is it the scarring? Does it make me uglier? I-I-” You started spiraling, pacing around impatiently. Once again, he held you down, your panicked face meeting his neutral expression.

“I think he’s scared,” Fushiguro said plain and simple. Your face contorted from panic to confusion in a few quick seconds. “But you have to talk to him about it”

“If he wants to…” You sighed and shrugged. You gave him a sad smile “Thank you, ‘Gumi-kun”

“You’re welcome, senpai” He nodded solemnly.

“How about a hug?” You stretched out your arms like a child. His face dropped in disgust and began to walk away. “Oh c’mon! Give me the honor of receiving a hug from you, Fushiguro '' You jogged after him. He only picked up his pace, running towards the dorms. “C’mere, Fushiguro-kun!” You ran after him and he started to run faster.

“No!” He shouted back to you, but you could see the smile trying to creep from behind his eyes. Gojo was sitting on the stoop outside the first year’s dorm. Watching you chase after each other in circles, he laughed loudly, snapping a video and a picture, where you had tears on the brim of your eyes from laughing and a huge smile, with Megumi next to you a few steps ahead, with half a toothless smile that was more than enough for you.

Toge looked outside the window to hear all the clamoring, to find you on the floor squeezing Megumi to death in a half hug, half headlock, laughing like there was no tomorrow. His heart skipped a beat but his face turned sour as he squeezed the chest of his top. He closed the window and laid on his bed, collar down, facing the ceiling quietly. His phone soon vibrated in his pocket.

[ Maki Zen’in: tf is wrong with you? ]

[ Inumaki Toge: wym? ]

[ Maki Zen’in: why are you ignoring them? ]

Toge sat up, tense. The truth is, he didn’t know. He could have all his internal conflicts while still talking to you. But he was scared. You had never defined labels, so maybe you didn’t like him that much for you to consider your boyfriend. He was scared. Very scared. Scared that you had an awkward conversation that would end it all, scared you didn’t like him that much and had to say it to his face.

[ Inumaki Toge: i’m scared ]

[ Maki Zen’in: ? ]

[ Inumaki Toge: kugisaki said i was their partner. ]

[ i just, i don’t know if i am. ]

[ i don’t know if they like me in that way. i’m scared to lose them ]

[ Maki Zen’in: god, you’re an idiot ]

[ just talk to them soon, okay? ]

[ Inumaki Toge: mkay ]

He yawned and stretched, but when he looked outside, you were nowhere to be found. He plopped back into bed, and when he realized it, he had fallen asleep. He panicked and looked around for his phone, realizing it was a bit past 5 PM. He jumped off his bed and crossed to the women’s dorm room block, standing in front of your door. He waited there for a few seconds. Seconds turned into minutes. But he couldn’t bring himself to knock or open the door.

“Toge?” He heard a quiet voice coming from down the hallway. You stood there, wearing sweatpants and a large shirt. You looked distraught at his presence.

“Kelp” He greeted as equally quiet before taking out his phone.

[ Inumaki Toge: can we please talk ? ]

“Sure” You nodded and approached him, opening the door for your room “After you”

The two of you sat silently on the bed for more than a few minutes, not a word in place, basking under the golden beam of light the sun produced at that hour. That was until you decided to speak “Why do you hate me?” You mumbled.

His eyes widened as he shook his head and his hands, saying no incessantly without any words at all. He stammered, trying to contain his words and finding a way to explain as quickly as possible before the water brimming your eyes fell down your cheeks. His eyes landed on a small whiteboard and a neon green marker you had in the corner, and while standing up, he started to write. His handwriting was adorable, with perfectly round letters, balanced curves, and straight lines. ‘ I don’t hate you '

“Then why have you been ignoring me all day?! I don’t know what I did, if I did anything at all, and it hurts!” You exclaimed, standing up to face him. His heart skipped a beat in all the wrong ways. He hurt you?

‘ I’m scared ’ He wrote and you sighed, just like Megumi said. But still, you didn’t understand. Your mouth pushed further into a line, which then started to tremble. “Why?”

Once again, he wished to speak to you and say everything that went a hundred miles per hour, but couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Then, he realized Maki was right; he was an idiot. The biggest idiot in the whole wide world. It was a stupid reason to neglect you like that. To make you so concerned, you were softly crying.

‘ Do you like me? ’ He wrote instead of giving you a clear answer. Your expression turned sour as you laughed “I thought I made it clear enough. I like you. So, so much. It’s okay if you don’t”

“Okaka” He shook his head before he started writing. ‘ I’ve always liked you. I just thought you didn’t. Nobara said I was your partner, and I panicked, cuz I thought you didn’t want to be ’ You stayed still but cracked a broken smile. He erased the message quickly and wrote an ‘ I’m sorry :( ‘

“You’re very silly, Inumaki-kun” You laughed very lightly, a tear escaping your eye. “I was really scared to lose you… again” A few more tears squeezed out of your eyes. Parting from your friends was hard, but having someone like Toge, who always looked out for you, ripped away was hard. Really hard. You cursed the damn mountain you lived on for not having any signal. You didn’t know anything about anyone, might as well think they’re all dead.

He just sighed “Tuna mayo” He comforted you simply, letting the board down on your bed before carefully wiping your tears away with his thumb. After you gazed into each other’s eyes for a second, the message was clear; you were never going to lose him again. Toge pulled you in for a hug. I love you.

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Anomaly (Haldir Oneshot)

Summary: Haldir meets you, a member of the Fellowship seeking passage through Lothlorien. Though not a fan of humans, he is curious about you.

Pairing: Haldir x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,111

Warnings/Disclaimers: A curse word. Some violence due to the Battle of Hornburg/Helm’s Deep and Minas Tirith. Injury, mentions of blood.

A/N: This is told more from Haldir’s perspective. Based off another weird dream I had. Threw in a bit of the book as well. Really wanted to get this out cuz my boi needs more love.

Masterlist

Haldir gazed at you from afar while he was on watch that evening. You were... peculiar to him. When he came across the Fellowship trying to pass through the Golden Wood, he never expected to find a human woman in their midst. The world of man was an anomaly to him despite his numerous interactions over hundreds of years. Human women were not granted the same rights and privileges as the men, a foreign to him. This was not the way of Elven culture. Meeting you there was refreshing in a way.

In conversing with Aragorn, he learned you were a soldier of Gondor who had traveled alongside Boromir and joined the Fellowship. You were a fierce warrior but kept a calm air about you. The few human female fighters he had come across, be it on purpose or part of their nature, generally overcompensated, feeling the need to prove themselves constantly. You did not. When the Marchwarden and his company initially surrounded the Fellowship, everyone drew their weapons, ready for the next challenge. You opted to place your hands on Frodo’s and Sam’s shoulders to calm them while Merry and Pippin stood at either side. Instead of fear or anger, Haldir saw an analytical curiosity gleaming in your eyes.

Even now as he kept you in his peripheral, your eyes held a certain light, a light not caused by reflecting the bright moon. It was a kind of serenity most humans rarely portrayed. It didn’t break even as pounding of ambitious orc feet hit the forest floor below. All you did was gently shift your arms that held two sleep-ridden hobbits.

Since the platforms amongst the trees were not large enough to contain both the Fellowship and Haldir’s party together, you had to be split apart. Aragorn kept you, Legolas, Frodo and Sam while Boromir, Gimli, Merry and Pippin rested on a neighboring platform. You had taken to the Hobbits just as much Boromir had, your arms wrapped around them with their heads resting on either shoulder. How you bonded with the curious creatures so well, Haldir would never know. You managed to bring a semblance of peace to their aching hearts, enough so they could rest. He could not imagine it was an easy feat considering all the Fellowship had been through. It made him wonder what Lady Galadriel would make of you.

Upon reaching Caras Galadhon, you practically vibrated with childish delight. Although you had been to Rivendell, you had never seen anything quite like the capital city, that much Haldir was certain. The corners of his mouth tugged into the faintest of smiles when he saw your elated face. He turned away to restore his stoic facade, but unknowingly caught the attention of another. Aragorn shot him a knowing smirk as their eyes met momentarily. Haldir said nothing and continued to lead the way up the stairs spiraling the ancient trees.

Up the stairs, across some bridges and the Fellowship was in the presence of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Haldir bared witness to the interactions from the sidelines. He knew when Lady Galadriel entered each of their minds through their minute expressions. While most struggled to remain slightly neutral to her ministrations, others had a difficult time hiding their horror. You, on the other hand, parted your lips with an acute tilt of your head, not bothering to mask your wonder or amusement.

The meeting came to a close shortly after. Lady Galadriel’s gaze swept over the group, ultimately landing on you. Haldir knew she would call upon you later that evening. Until then, he was tasked with guiding the Fellowship to where they would be resting.

It was long after the others had gone to bed, after Frodo returned from the mirror, when Haldir learned he was correct. He spied you and Lady Galadriel wandering the halls, speaking softly amongst yourselves. What about, he could not say. He swiftly took the next pathway so as not to intrude on your private moment.

Marchwarden. Please come.

Always the obedient one, he turned himself around to join you both.

He greeted the pair of you with a bow.

“Marchwarden,” Lady Galadriel responded with a smile. “Would you be so kind as to escort our guest back to her company? The hour is late, and she deserves just as much rest as her friends.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Haldir held out his arm for you to take which you did after properly bidding Lady Galadriel a good night with a bow. He led you along the walkways, taking his time in doing so. This would more than likely be one of the few times he would be able to speak with you alone. The Fellowship would continue on their quest as soon as possible.

“These woods are truly a wonder. I have never experienced anything quite like it,” you started, breaking the quiet between you, voice so delicate it was hard to believe you were the warrior Aragorn made you out to be.

An agreeing hum quietly rumbled in his throat. “It is a gem of Middle Earth.”

“I must agree. I think I can understand your fierce desire to protect this place, your home.”

“I am sure you wish to protect Gondor just as much. Your dedication to the Fellowship is proof of that.”

“Despite the hardships,” you tried to hide the way you sucked in a breath, “I am glad to be a part of this. They have all become like family to me.”

Gandalf.

Hearing the grief lightly laced in your voice, Haldir stopped and pulled his arm away just enough to take your hand, turning to stand in front of you. With his free hand he cupped your cheek to catch the stray tear that had escaped your lashes. He was at a loss for words. Comforting others was not a skill commonly taught to Marchwardens. You caught his hand before he had a chance to think about retracting it, leaning into his touch. He closed the last bit of distance between you two and stroked the swell of your cheek with his thumb, your eyes shutting to bask in the moment.

An eternity or mere moments passed. Neither of you could tell by the time you finally spoke. “Thank you.”

The day your company was set to leave, Haldir felt a small pang in his heart. Why was he so bothered by your departure? He had only had the one major interaction with you. The rest of his time was spent either training or on patrol, and on patrol really meant him keeping an eye on the Fellowship. You just happened to be around when he took watch, or so he tried to convince himself.

He stood aside as Lady Galadriel offered her gifts to the travelers, giving them each something they would need or want. She bestowed on you a small Elven dagger, tiny enough to conceal in a boot with little discomfort. The Marchwarden, though content you had some extra to defend yourself with, hoped you would never need to use it.

Haldir then brought the Fellowship to the boats where everyone’s belongings were already packed and settled. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you while everyone said their proper farewells, but nothing stopped him from following down river to the borders. He and his troupe had orders to make sure you all reached them safely anyways.

Despite being hidden amongst the trees, it was like you knew he was there. Your head turned towards him as you passed the borders, not making eye contact but still unnervingly close to it. A tiny smile graced your lips before returning to the task at hand.

Helm’s Deep was not where the Marchwarden wanted to be, but he still had his orders. He was charged with leading an Elven army to help defend the kingdom of Rohan. Entering the gates, he was speaking with a perplexed King Théoden when what was left of your party rounded the corner. Your grin shone brightly in the dark when Aragorn surprised him with an embrace.

Haldir found himself both pleased and upset by your presence. While you looked to be in good health, he did not know your full battle prowess and as such was unsure how you would handle the soon-to-be battlefield. However, he never had the chance to voice his concerns as he needed to position his soldiers.

The rain poured when the standoff with the Orcs and Uruk-hai began, pinging off of helmets loudly. Haldir stood among his fellow Elves. Aragorn spread the rest of you out, sending you to the opposite end of Helm’s Deep where Haldir’s view was partially obscured. He could at least see you standing proudly alongside the other men. He could only imagine the fire in your eyes.

When the battle began, it raged with seemingly no good end in sight. A section of the wall had exploded with Aragorn near enough to be caught in the blast. Haldir could hear you bark your clear and concise orders to the men as you rushed to help Aragorn. Upon reaching his feet, Aragorn yelled out the order to retreat further in to better protect the caves the women and children were hiding in. Haldir belayed the orders in his native tongue to his soldiers.

He made sure the soldiers retreated but was unable to do so himself. Surrounded by the enemy on a high ledge, he slashed through them in an attempt to make a path for himself. His weariness had caught up with him as he was hit in the side with a jagged weapon.

“Marchwarden!”

He spun around as someone called him, ready to slice through his assailant. It fell to the ground as he faced it, revealing you with a now broken sword which you cast away. You stepped over the dead enemy to get a better look at him. Haldir clutched his side when you tried to check on his wound.

“How bad is it?”

“You should be retreating,” he tried to dodge the question.

“As should you,” you answered sternly, locking eyes with him. “Are you still able to keep moving?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We must go quickly.”

You reached out to help him when your breath hitched. You lurched towards him, grabbing his free arm to pull him forward, the motion catapulting you behind him. You ripped the dagger from your boot as you continued towards the Orc that had snuck up behind Haldir, and shoved it between the layers of its armor. In the creature’s last breath, it brought down its sword on your shoulder, forcing you to your knees.

Haldir rushed to your side, stabbing the Orc once more for good measure before shoving it off the ledge. He kneeled in front of you, clenching his jaw to ignore the pain in his side, and held you steady by your upper arms. Your eyes were glassing over while you desperately tried to keep your head up to look at him.

He called out your name. “We need to follow the others. Are you able to stand?”

You blinked a few times before hoarsely whispering, “I... I don’t... know.”

Your shoulder bled profusely as Haldir tried to help you stand. He took on most of your weight with your arm over his shoulder. You wouldn’t last much longer without a healer’s attention. Biting back his own pain, he practically carried you down the stairs to solid ground where Aragorn met you. He and what little was left of the soldiers who had not yet retreated formed around the two of you, furiously slicing at the Orcs and Uruk-hai that would stop you from reaching the main halls.

Soldiers who were protecting the doors ushered you inside immediately where Haldir brought you into the caves for the healers to watch over. One tried to make him sit momentarily to tend to his own injury, but he brushed them away. He could still continue. His ribs were probably bruised, if not broken, but his armor kept the damage from being life threatening. He promptly left to speak with Aragorn about the next plan of attack. He would be damned if he allowed any of those foul beings to pass into the caves to finish the job.

The battle was won, Gandalf having arrived with reinforcements right when they needed him most. When victory was assured, the Marchwarden wasted no time in returning to the caves where you lay unconscious. The healers bandaged you to the best of their abilities given the circumstances, and you were at least breathing steadily.

Much to the surprise of his fellow elves and your company, Haldir rarely left your side, even during the trek back to Edoras. He was still there when you woke safely in the Golden Halls of Meduseld.

Your eyes struggled to open as you stirred awake. “Wh-what happened?” Your voice was hoarse from sleep and lack of water.

“You were struck down, Mellon nin.” Haldir brushed a rogue strand of hair from your forehead and placed his hand on yours. “We were able to retreat to the caves.”

“And the battle?” Your arms shook as you tried to sit up and lean your weight on your good side. “The outcome?”

The Marchwarden tried to settle you back down, but you would not relent. “We were victorious. Gandalf arrived with reinforcements at dawn and drove the enemy out.”

You began to relax at that before another question flooded your mind. “What about-”

“Your friends are well,” he chuckled at your persistence. “They are preparing to leave for Isengard soon. Word has returned that it has fallen.”

Before you had a chance to ask another question, he helped you sit up the rest of the way so as not to aggravate your wound further with your stubbornness and handed you a glass of water. You drank it slowly despite your need to relinquish your thirst.

“Thank you.” You passed the glass back to him, your voice clearer now. “When do they leave?”

“Tomorrow morning, I believe,” Haldir answered and coaxed you to lay back down.

You nodded with a hum. “I suppose I should rest more, then. If there is a chance that Merry and Pippin are there and well, I would like to be there.”

“Mellon nin, your injury is not yet healed.”

“A mere shoulder wound will not prevent me from riding to Isengard,” you huffed.

“It is nothing to scoff at. Mellon nin, you almost died,” he pleaded with you, taking one of your hands in both of his.

“Haldir, I still have my duty to the Fellowship. I cannot abandon them.”

“Tending to your health is not abandoning anyone,” he spoke softly as he ran a thumb across your knuckles. “You will still be able to continue your quest when you have healed.”

You sighed deeply, looking to the ceiling as though collecting your thoughts. “I just... This is something I feel like I need to do.”

A deafening silence showered the room. Haldir studied you for a moment, your unencumbered hand fiddling with the sheets. Your mind was made up, and there was nothing he could do.

“Mellon nin,” he breathed, reaching for your face so you would look at him. “You will not let this go, will you?”

You shook your head with determined yet pleading eyes.

He squeezed your hand gently. “Then, I suppose all I can ask of you is to get your rest tonight.”

“Thank you.” With a smile, your thumb glided over his.

He made to stand so you could sleep in peace without him hovering. As he pulled his hand away, you gripped it tighter.

“Haldir? Will you stay? At least until I fall asleep? I am not sure I wish to be alone right now.”

Taken aback, he stood there dumbly before retaking his seat. “Of course, Mellon nin.”

The next morning, the remaining members of the Fellowship gathered at the stables. Aragorn was in the middle of trying to convince you to stay behind. Gandalf stood out of the way with Gimli, biting back a laugh at Aragorn’s futile efforts, while Haldir and Legolas prepared the horses.

“You will only worsen your injury,” Aragorn chided.

You folded your arms defiantly across your chest. “One trip on horseback is not so arduous.”

“She has already made up her mind, Aragorn. I doubt you will be able to change it,” Gandalf chimed in.

Haldir was tightening the saddle on the horse that would carry you so it was more secure when Legolas silently sidled up to him. “You have already said your peace, have you not?”

“What makes you say that?” Haldir twisted the saddle to test it.

“You have barely left her side since our victory. You must have spoken with her before now,” Legolas quipped.

“Indeed, I have.”

“Then, surely in your fondness of her you would have tried to convince her to stay behind.”

“Fondness?” Haldir stilled a moment before adjusting the straps again. “We are friends, Legolas. Nothing more.”

“Then why is it you have been meticulously preparing this one horse whilst I have already saddled three?” Legolas shot him a pointed smirk.

The Marchwarden felt himself flush all the way to the tips of his ears. “She is still injured. I- We cannot risk her hurting herself further.”

Legolas held his chuckle in his throat as a hum. “The sooner you stop attempting to fool yourself, Mellon-”

“Alright, you may join us!” Aragorn growled with a huff, stealing the attention of the bickering elves. “However, the moment a battle should arise, you are to return here.”

“Of course,” you complied, a stubborn edge to your voice.

Aragorn’s heavy sigh was littered with grit. “Are the horses ready?”

Haldir and Legolas nodded swiftly.

“Good. Let us be on our way.”

You made your way to the Marchwarden who was beckoning you over.

“Are you sure there is nothing I can do to change your mind, Mellon nin?” he asked softly.

“I am, yes.”

You flashed a smile at him before placing a foot in the stirrup. Haldir remained hovering near you. Your shoulder strained as you willed your arms to reach the saddle, steadying yourself as you pushed down on the stirrup to lift yourself up. Midway up, you lost your grip as your shoulder suddenly gave out. Haldir was quick to press a hand to your back to stop your fall. He noticed how your jaw tensed to grind out what was obviously the pain of your wound, but you were still determined to mount the horse.

“Here.” He gripped your waist. “I apologize if this seems forward.”

He raised you enough so you could swing your leg over the saddle, letting you go the moment you had your balance.

“N-not at all. Thank you.”

You held the reins tightly as you settled down, knuckles turning white like it could make everything better. Haldir felt his chest tighten and covered one of your hands with his own, eyes filled with concern. Your head snapped down to meet his gaze. With a reassuring yet forced smile, you attempted to relax your muscles to conceal just how much your injury hurt, but he saw right through it.

With a heavy sigh and shake of his head, he took hold of the saddle and hoisted himself up behind you.

“What are you-”

“If your pain is that severe, you shall not ride alone,” Haldir interrupted, finality in his tone.

“Haldir, this is not necessary,” you argued as he pulled the reins from your hands.

Legolas slinked by with Gimli on their horse, sending you two a knowing smile. The Marchwarden’s blush bled to his ears again. He didn’t notice your own flushed face.

Haldir cleared his throat. “Let us go before we fall behind.”

The journey to Isengard was quiet and uneventful. Partway through the trip, you finally allowed yourself to relax, not realizing you were leaning back into Haldir. Though bemused, he was not about to protest.

Collecting Merry and Pippin was as simple as it was amusing. They were most excited about reuniting with their companions. It was on the ride back that you and Haldir overheard their teasing about you sharing a horse. Aragorn and the others bit back grins and commentary of their own.

The festivities that followed upon returning to Edoras were no better, the ale at least partly to blame. The Marchwarden and what remained of his soldiers were settled near Legolas who was currently in the middle of a drinking match with Gimli. You had yet to arrive. Eowyn was the only reason Haldir was not at your side forcing you to rest. She tended to your shoulder, promising to return you for the celebration. He would have preferred you did not come for the sake of your health, but as long as you were not overexerting yourself again, he would not complain.

He swirled the ale in his mug after taking a swig, mulling over recent events. Usually he was not one to allow his emotions control his actions, and yet he was doing that much more often now. He felt like he couldn’t help himself. There was this overwhelming desire to keep you safe, keep you close, regardless of the fact that you were perfectly capable of handling yourself. Haldir had caught a glimpse of your abilities at Helm’s Deep. There was a reason you had gone to Rivendell with Boromir and joined the Fellowship.

As if to break him of his spiraling thoughts before they grew out of control, one of his neighboring elves nudged his arm, winking and motioning him to look up. He lifted his gaze, about to make a remark for the elf’s teasing, when he saw Eowyn stepping into the room with you close at her side.

The music, shouts, laughter - they all faded away from his ears. You practically radiated light despite your nervous self on display. Eowyn had lent you one of her dresses, the fabric draping differently on your frame from hers yet no less perfect. She caught Haldir’s gawking and whispered something in your ear with a smirk. You glanced up to see him but dipped your head back down to where your hair curtained your tiny, bashful smile. Eowyn was quick to tuck the offending hair behind your ear. She giggled and murmured to you again, resulting in your flustered rush to join your companions.

Haldir focused on his ale once again. The elf who had coaxed him into looking up bumped his arm. Without saying a word, he was fully encouraging his captain to go to you. The elves in his company had never seen their normally reserved, stoic Marchwarden act like this before, and they thought it a fantastic development. They all joined in pestering him to at least ask you for a dance. It took a while, but his stubbornness crumbled, and he brought himself to his feet only to notice you were missing from your company. He scanned the crowds, hoping to spot you. Maybe someone else had already asked you to dance. That theory was thankfully doused when he spied the swish of your dress through a door leading outside.

Following and stepping out into the cool night air, he found you leaning forward on the wooden railing, gazing up at the stars. Your hair sparkled under the dim light. He realized tonight was the first time he had seen you without it tied or braided back out of the way.

“Mellon nin,” Haldir called to you softly so as not to startle you. “Are you alright?”

You turned to see him just outside of the door and nodded with a tired smile. “Yes. I just felt I needed some fresh air and a moment away from the crowd.”

“I apologize for disturbing you. I will-”

“No!” You cut him off quickly. “I mean... You did not disturb anything. You can stay if you would like.”

The corners of Haldir’s lips tugged upwards ever so slightly as he approached you, joining you in your previous stargazing. The peaceful quiet of the night muffled the festivities in the building. He felt you cover his hand with your own accompanied by a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you, Haldir, for everything,” your voice was just above a whisper.

“I should be thanking you, Mellon nin,” he shook his head, his other hand coming to grasp yours. “If you had not come for me, I would not be at your side now.”

A breathy chuckle passed your lips. “I suppose we are even then.”

Haldir hummed questioningly.

“Had you not brought me with you whilst retreating, then I would not be at your side now.” You parroted the last words with a grin.

The Marchwarden’s shoulders shook with a quiet laughter. “I cannot argue against that.”

You set your free hand on top of your conjoined ones as you leaned against his shoulder. A comforting silence befell you both. That is until you heard chittering giggles from behind. The pair of you turned to see Merry and Pippin poking their heads from the doorway, followed by Aragorn who proceeded to drag them back inside and shot you a wink as he did so.

Gondor had called for aid. Rohan answered. The army’s camp was set up, and Aragorn had a plan. Haldir received orders for his company to continue helping Rohan and meet with Elrond to receive more explicit directions.

The morning for departure arrived, and Aragorn was set to travel to the Paths of the Dead. Legolas, Gimli, Haldir and you were to join him. Haldir’s soldiers were to follow King Théoden into battle. You all stood wearily at the start of the trail, feeling the ominous air seeping down to the bone.

Haldir brushed his hand against your elbow for your attention. “May I speak with you privately?”

You looked up at him with worried eyes and nodded, probably guessing what this was about. He pulled you to the side just out of earshot of the others.

He steeled himself with a deep breath. “I must insist you do not join us, Mellon nin.”

“But Haldir, I-”

“Please, Meleth nin,” he desperately pleaded, not meaning to let the new term of endearment slip. Tenderly cupping your face with both hands, he continued, “None of us know how this will end. We... We may not come back. I beg of you to please stay with Eowyn.”

His voice was hushed, afraid it would break if he attempted to speak any louder. He knew his emotions were on full display, but he could not bring himself to care. What mattered was keeping you safe.

“Haldir...” you trailed off, grasping at his wrists with the utmost care to keep them in place. You gave a quick nod and tried to conceal your worried frown. “Alright. However. You had better- You all had better return.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “I will do everything in my power to do just that.”

The Marchwarden was among the Fellowship in Minas Tirith when he saw a barely conscious Eowyn being carried into the Houses of Healing. Panic coursed through his veins. You were nowhere to be found. He rushed over to her as she was laid on a bed.

“Lady Eowyn, what happened?”

She nearly didn’t recognize him. All of her effort was put into focusing on his words.

“Lady Eowyn, please. Where is she?” He held his breath like it would help him hear better.

With a tiny shake of her head, she croaked quietly, “I am sorry... We... We were separated... in battle... I know not... her fate...”

Haldir stepped aside to allow the healers in. His heart was at a standstill. Had he known Eowyn was going to sneak her way into the army, he would have pleaded with you to return to Rohan. Your injury did not have the time to fully heal. Fighting in such a strenuous battle would do you no good. He needed to find you. He needed to know that you were well.

Bursting through the doors, he raced down the stairs for the lower levels, Aragorn shouting something after him. He did not hear a word. Canopies were set up and homes were open near the gate for the soldiers who were unable to reach the Houses of Healing. Haldir weaved through the injured in a desperate attempt to find you. He’d rather discover you here as long as you were among the living.

After a fruitless search under the canopies, he began entering the opened homes. He asked anyone able for a person matching your description. Nothing. Nothing until he reached the last home. There you were towards the back of the room. An older woman had just stepped away from helping you. The armor you had borrowed like Eowyn was in a pile to the side. He could see the bandage on your thigh through the tear in your trousers, but other than that you came away from the battle fairly unharmed. How you managed that with a preexisting injury was a mystery to him.

“Meleth nin,” Haldir breathed, making his way to you. This time he meant to use the term.

Somehow, you heard him over the throng of people, your gaze meeting his. “Haldir!”

You rose to your feet a little too quickly and swayed unintentionally to put your weight onto your good leg. Haldir darted to you just in time, bringing you into his embrace.

“You’re alright...” He rested his forehead on yours just like before you departed, completely forgetting those around you. “I was beginning to think my search was for naught.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you buried your face in his chest. “Haldir, I... I’m so sorry. I know you meant to keep me from harm-”

“Shhh,” he cooed, settling his chin on the crown of your head. “I know. There is no need to apologize. All that matters is that you are here and well.”

Your light chuckle vibrated through him. “You are much too patient with me.”

“I assume you are not familiar with that.”

“You would be right.” He could feel your cheeks lift as you smiled. “Most tend to leave when I grow stubborn.”

Haldir shifted his face so it rested in your hair, murmuring into your scalp, “I am not going anywhere, Meleth nin.”

The world of man was still an anomaly to him. You were an anomaly within that world, and he wouldn’t have you any other way.