#❝ we’re the guys who save the world. — brothers

[donnatroyyyy]

Can I be honest with everyone a second? I honestly think that every instance used to justify calling Dick Grayson the “angry robin” is him being justifiably mad at something that would make anyone who was put in the situation mad.

[zephyrchama]

“Don’t,” you warned Lucifer. You saw that self-assured grin on his face. You knew what he was planning.

“What? I just came to see what you were doing.” He leaned on your shoulder with enough weight to tilt you several inches sideways, no matter how much you pushed back. “Don’t mind me, carry on.”

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” you retorted, but it was too late. The others were catching on.

“Hey, hey! What’s going on?” Mammon came over and pushed against your other shoulder, tilting you back upright. “What are two of my favorite people doin’?”

You tried to shrug them both off, to no avail. “We’re not doing anything. We can stop this.”

You couldn’t stop it. Asmodeus was on his way and wasted no time crossing his arms over your back, happily leaning into you from behind. You tilted forward. “Hey! What’s happening here?”

You sighed, “we’re not doing this again.”

Asmodeus teased you with honeyed innocence, “doing what, hon? Something on your mind?”

These three demons thought they were so funny.

A passing Satan made eye contact with you. In that exact moment, you used every bit of imaginary telepathy you could muster. Surely Satan would understand. He could save you. He could free you before it really was too late.

He observed what his brothers were doing, nodded, and approached with a congenial grin. Mission failed.

“Traitor!” You regretted ever agreeing to join this exchange program as Satan slowly fell back into you. You didn’t even try to catch him, you were too busy trying to remain upright under the combined weight of four demons. They were hardly even holding back.

You couldn’t see who was running up, being too busy blowing Satan’s blonde hair out of your face, but at this point it didn’t matter. They were all coming for you.

“Let me in on this!” Leviathan said cheerily.

“Yeah!” “Come on!” Asmodeus and Mammon gladly made some room for Leviathan, which was difficult because you were sinking lower and lower, and you felt another weight pile onto your back as Levi cozied up to your torso. This scenario had played out enough times now that the brothers could somehow keep you from falling over like a Jenga tower, but it was still only a matter of time.

Belphegor squeezed his way in between Satan and Lucifer and wordlessly collapsed onto you as if overcome with narcolepsy. He sure looked cozy. He smirked while you lamented, “I’m never forgiving any of you, ever.”

“Beel? Are you coming?” Lucifer summoned the cherry on top of this ridiculous parfait. You braced as Beelzebub licked the crumbs off his fingers in preparation. He knew what had to be done.

“Are you ready?” At least he had the decency to ask, unlike six other degenerates. The six lumps of dead weight each grabbed a part of your body, shifting from leans to awkward hugs. There was no way to run.

With an exaggerated “hah!”, Beelzebub’s weight and outstretched arms were enough to send everyone crashing down. You were protected from any real damage by the shell of demon brothers, but they soon had you pinned down against someone’s chest in the world’s most embarrassing cuddle pile.

“Aren’t you guys too old for this?” you asked. “By like, ten thousand years?”

“We were just checking up on you,” Lucifer said.

“Yeah, how did this happen? Hmm..!” Asmodeus’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Satan draped his leg over yours and not-so-accidentally kicked Lucifer. “You should have told us what you were doing.”

“I think it’s fun.” Belphegor was the only one to admit the truth.

Hands were running through your hair and over your stomach. Somebody was pushing the edge of your mouth up into a smile with their finger. If these guy were so touch-starved, they could have just said so, like sane people.

“My! What do we have here?”

You groaned, partially because everybody was really heavy and partially because you really didn’t need Diavolo to arrive just then.

“My lord, it appears we have walked in on something quite interesting.” Et tu, Barbatos?

”Indeed! Is there room for two more?”

Your “no!” was drowned out by seven resounding yeses.

[bunni-v1]

OMGG you wrote the first years finding out reader was a girl so well! i love it :D could i maybe request the same thing but for thirds years? thank you so much and have a good day :)

Third Years Find out You’re a Girl?!?!? (NOT CLICKBAIT) 

TW: Rook and Lilia are creepy

Info: Trey, Cater, Rook, Lilia x Reader (platonic)

Tags: @kierancaz @danchann33 @arashrita

🍓Ahh, the third years… How I do love them. Please ignore my blatant favoritism in Rook… I just… I really <3 him. Truly, the third years are my absolute weakest character, but I hope I did them well. Remember, dorm leaders are on a separate post. Love you all, and enjoy <3

First Years

Ortho & Sebek

Second Years

Dorm Leaders

-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?

-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.

-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.

-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)

-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)

-So how do you two do it?

-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.

-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.

-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)

-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.

-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 

-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.

-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.

-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.

-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!

-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.

-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…

-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.

-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).

-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.

-So… how do they find out?

Trey

-Trey is a very good middle ground compared to everyone else in NRC.

-He doesn’t find out immediately like some people, but he finds out pretty soon into knowing you.

-Trey has siblings. Specifically, he has younger sisters he helped raise alongside his mother and father.

-He’s good at reading women thanks to his sisters. He knows many tells of discomfort, displeasure, dislike, etc.. 

-It’s different from how his brothers would show it, how others at NRC show it. 

-He can’t even explain it, he just knows the differences and it makes sense to him.

-With you, he notices the tells. Notices that you deepen your voice and you shy away from the more… intimidating and touchy guys on campus.

-He’s not one to assume, though!

-He’s attended three years at NRC in the same class as Vil.

-He understands that gender expression presents itself in tons of different ways. 

-You clearly prefer using he/him pronouns, Ace and Deuce use strictly male pronouns, so it’s not his place to say anything.

-Still… the way your eyes glitter when he praises you for doing well on your tarts reminds him a whole lot of his little sisters.

-It’s not till a bit later, shortly before Riddle explodes when he asks Cater that his suspicions are concerned.

-“Cater, don’t you think the new guy in ramshackle is a little…”

“Girl? Yeah, it’s kinda obvs.”

“Is it now…?”

-Cater pretty much lays out everything he noticed about you, and it matches up pretty well with what Trey was thinking.

-Still! Trey doesn’t want to force the idea that you’re a woman on you! 

-What if you are trans, non-binary, or anything else? To assume something like that is completely awful, and he’s better than that. 

-He’s not a troublemaker after all.

-So, during one of Heartslabyul’s tea parties, (much like many others at NRC), he pulls you aside just to get confirmation.

-“So, this might seem a little rude, but I want to make sure I’m respecting you.”

“…kay…”

“Are you a woman?”

“Didn’t Cater tell you already?”

-Oh. Okay. Cater was right. He shouldn’t have doubted him. Noted.

-You make him swear up and down that he won’t tell Ace or Deuce, and you move on from it like it's nothing. (You’re not sure you can trust Ace and Deuce to keep their mouths shut at this point).

-And, really, it should be nothing. Trey should just be able to move on and relax… but his brotherly instincts sort of act up around you.

-He’s not overbearing in any way, it isn’t a creepy thing that suffocates you… it’s just a notable increase in intake of Trey in your life.

-He invites you over to “try this new recipe he made” (an excuse to ensure you’re eating, because he’s confident Crowley isn’t providing you nearly enough nourishment).

-Sometimes he shows up at Ramshackle to pick up Ace and Deuce and ends up staying and helping you clean up after the disaster freshmen.

-Most importantly, he checks in on you and your well-being considerably more than he does anyone else.

-He has, in fact, called you little sis before as well. He was incredibly embarrassed by it and refused to acknowledge it happened.

-Cater does not let him forget that it happens, calling you “Trey’s honorary sister” every chance he gets.

-It’s not so bad though. Especially at the start, you really needed someone reliable like Trey to lean on when you needed help since Crowley would only do the bare minimum.

Cater

-Cater finds out pretty damn quick after meeting you.

-It's not the exact second he sees you, but very shortly after your first interactions… he gets it.

-As we know, Cater was sort of forced into being feminine and girly by his sisters — something he was completely uncomfortable with, but later forced himself to embrace.

-When he looks at you… how big your clothes are, how you artificially deepen your voice, how you’re clearly uncomfortable with both of those things… he sees a younger version of himself.

-Still… it's super not his place to bother you about something like that. 

-He hardly knows you, and as your upperclassman, he should be a role model and not worry about superficial stuff.

-M’kay! It is no big deal for Cay Cay, he can leave it all behind him with no issue! Totally doesn’t bother him at all!

-…He’s a big fat liar.

-It’s not his fault okay! He just… can’t get that look of discomfort out of his mind. 

-You looked so miserable :( You looked like how he used to look :(

-So, Cater, far more impulsive and honest than good old Trey, straight up asks you. (Privately, of course, he’s not a monster.)

-“Heyyyy, so, weird question… are you a girl? It’s totally cool if you’re not, I’m just curious.”

“…How did you know…”

-It kinda freaks you out a lot. You thought you were hiding it so well.

-Cater, sweetie that he is, assures you that he’s different from others. 

-He’s got special circumstances that allowed him to notice what was going on.

-Promises he won’t open his mouth…

-He tells Trey less than a week later.

-It’s not his fault! He was on your trail already, he was gonna figure out one way or another!

-Other than the Trey debacle, he’s really good at NOT gossiping about it, believe it or not.

-He’s your reliable senpai after all :D

-He is your first official ally!

-Completely supportive of what you’re trying to do here, and is more than willing to be a safe space when you just need to… be a woman sometimes.

-You spend a lot of time with him after he finds out.

-His dorm is always open for you, even if Riddle hates it, m’kay! You can always come to your old pal Cater for help.

-He really helps you on selling the whole “I’m a man” act. 

-He shows you easier ways to hide your chest so you don’t always have to swim in your clothes and helps you keep your hair styled in a way that either hides it or makes you look more masculine.

-He’s like the best big brother figure to have, honestly, and he remains one of your dearest friends through your whole stay at NRC.

-He’s someone to vent to, someone who gets what you’re going through just a little, and someone who’s really there for you all the time.

-Also very protective of your secret. 

-The only reason Ace and Deuce don’t know for so long is because Cater is working overtime to keep them off your trail.

-He tells you all about his escapades and keeping them in the dark too, he’s so proud of himself. (Please praise him, he needs it).

-Seriously though, he’s such a sweetheart and he’s always there for you if you need him.

Rook

-Ah beloved lover of beauty Rook!

-He is quite the oddball, isn’t he? Always off in his own world spewing flowery nonsense all in “the pursuit of beauty” as he calls it.

-Most people on campus just call him a freak and move on from it. 

-You’ve heard about him, of course. The stalker-hunter from Pomefiore makes the beastmen on campus tremble in fear (or annoyance, in Leona's case).

-You knew he existed, but seeing him was never really common. In fact… seeing anyone from Pomefiore was rare.

-You guessed such an elitist dorm probably wouldn’t want to mingle with someone like you.

-In Rook’s case, however, you couldn’t be more wrong.

-He was quite interested in you from the very second you’d interrupted the whole opening ceremony.

-You were… striking in his eyes. Not quite as beautiful as Vil, of course, but very eye-catching.

-While Vil insists you are a pest not worth Rook’s attention, he disagrees.

-Truly, he’s fascinated by you and your story.

-You from another world, who goes out of his way to hide such natural beauty with baggy clothes and messy hair… Ah! How his heart pounds in excitement, he must know more!

-So he does the only thing he knows how to…

-He goes on the hunt. For what? He’s not sure yet, but his hunches are rarely wrong.

-He follows you to classes, watches you get yourself into trouble and out of it, stalks you through the windows of ramshackle, and laments about his findings to (a very unimpressed) Vil.

-You can feel his piercing gaze on your back, but you never see him. It’s chilling honestly.

-It’s not until he decides to follow you to Sam’s later at night that he figures it out.

-You had purchased a large box of feminine supplies…

-He had gotten you, little trickster :)

-Now, since he had gotten his solution, he laid back on the whole… creeping on you in your dorm thing.

-He is a hunter, not a pervert.

-Leading up to the VDC, when you’ve decided to try out officially, you suddenly see a lot more of this mysteriously creepy Rook character.

-And, honestly, he was really nice! 

-Sure he said a lot of needlessly long and poetic sentences, but at the end of the day, he would always wave at you in the hallways or offer to help you learn the dance for auditions.

-This was all a ruse to be able to get closer to you and uncover your inner beauty.

-HE convinced Vil it was a good idea for you to be manager, and HE was the one who offered to ensure you “didn’t cause any trouble.”

-And Rook, good as he is at hiding secrets, pretty much lets you know that he knows. Constantly you find him… flirting? Complementing? You… saying how badly he would like to see you cleaned up and in more fitting clothes.

-Nothing he’s doing is romantic… you think… he’s just very clearly interested in you.

-So, of course, you have to ask him.

“Did you… figure out I’m a woman.”

“Perhaps…”

“You’re… not going to tell anyone, right?”

“Little trickster, I am the master of secrets.”

-Honestly? It’s not so bad having him and the others in Pomefiore know. 

-You really get to be yourself with Vil and Rook, so it's nice! Besides, you haven’t been prettied up in a really long time. You kinda missed it.

Lilia

-Ah, Lilia… beloved elderly man.

-He won’t lie and say that he isn’t incredibly curious about you too. Who wouldn’t be?

-A human from another reality with no magic, no concept of where they are, and no idea how to get you back.

-Very curious indeed.

-However, he has no reason to get himself involved in your business.

-You are a confident young lad, and clearly strong and capable. 

-In the few interactions he did have with you, you clearly had your head on your shoulders and well-founded confidence in your own abilities.

-The only thing truly odd about you was… your face.

-He isn’t one to talk, he’s thousands of years old and he’s got quite (unnaturally) large eyes and soft skin.

-You, however, aren’t fae. You aren’t anything more than a human.

-Excuse his close-mindedness for just a moment, but if he wasn’t mistaken you look quite… feminine.

-Small(er) stature, baggy clothes, clearly discomforted by “manly” activities that your friends drag you into.

-It wasn’t his place to question, of course. He understands that gender isn’t easy to define, and his thoughts are only ideas from his past creeping up on him.

-Still… it raises some questions in his mind.

-He knows where his responsibilities lay, so he brushes his thoughts under the rug and moves on from the thought.

-That is… until he notices Malleus’… interest in you.

-The prince’s visits to ramshackle only seemed to increase after you arrived.

-As Malleus’ caretaker (and out of morbid curiosity), he must investigate you further.

-That's how you start… seeing a lot of Lilia. Like, too much Lilia. How in the world is he always there, it’s creeping you out.

-He’ll talk to you, sometimes, but most of the time you can feel his beady little red eyes watching you.

-You don’t know what you did to him, but it’s really starting to freak you out.

-You’ve seen his fangs, does he want you for a blood bag or something.

-You, being strong as you are, decide to just confront him one day in the library.

-“Okay, what’s your problem. You went from acting like I don’t exist to constantly staring at me like I’m your next meal.”

“Please forgive me, that wasn’t my intention. I’m simply… curious about you, and I didn’t want to scare you off by approaching.”

“I don’t think your solution to that problem was any less scary.”

-You give him the benefit of the doubt, and you realize this guy talks like your grandpa or something. He’s so old, it’s almost funny.

-You decide to start spending some more time with him, and you realize he’s really fun to be around.

-Despite his seemingly old soul, he’s rebellious and feisty, and he has an endless treasure trove of stories to tell you.

-He becomes a comforting force in your life, so much so you begin to confide in him your stresses and worries.

-Inevitably, you end up telling him how hard it is to hide being a woman. How only so many people know, and how exhausting it is to pretend to be something you’re not.

-“Does Malleus know?”

“Malleus…?”

“The man you meet in front of your dorm at night.”

“Oh! Do you mean Hornton? No, I don’t know if he’s good at keeping secrets or not.”

“He is not.”

-Lilia is more than willing to be a force in your life that keeps you happy and healthy. 

-He is more providing and giving than Crowley is, constantly giving you little gifts and ensuring you have enough money to keep taking care of yourself.

-You insist that he doesn’t need to do any of that, but his fatherly instincts tell him otherwise.

[atinylittlepain]

ok so given that the oscars just happened, imagine a joel x actress!reader. before everything went to shit joel was a normal human being who loved watching movies and like any basic person had a celebrity crush. fast forward and the world has gone to shit and joel and ellie (and maybe tommy too) go on a patrol that goes wrong and get saved by miss “i just smashed a guys head in with my oscar” or something like that, just a fluff and fun imagine that isnt gonna break my heart in a million pieces like last nights episode

oh my god, your mindddddd - I love this idea :)

Big Fan

Joel Miller x actress!reader

Joel Miller masterlist

Joel recognizes her right away. After all, she starred in his favorite movie of all time.

warnings | 18+ a little angst, nothing wild, this is fluff through and through

Read part two!

.......................

“Are you–”

“I am.”

“You were in–”

“I was.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” 

“Alright, somebody better start speaking in full sentences, because I have no clue what the hell is going on.” Joel huffs, glancing at Ellie who's looking at him like he’s gone crazy, her gun still cocked at the woman in front of them.

“What? You don’t recognize her, kid? I just showed you Curtis and Viper.” Ellie’s brow furrows, but then she looks back at the woman and her eyes finally widen in recognition.

“Holy shit.” The woman laughs, eyes still focused on the barrel of Ellie’s gun.

“That’s not usually the movie people recognize me from. But I suppose it was my big break.” Joel nudges Ellie, muttering for her to put her “damn gun away, jesus christ,” and she quickly tucks it back in her belt.

He’s trying to not be weird right now, they did just kill five clickers together, but he’s finding it hard not to lose his cool over the woman who had been a silly crush of his since he first saw that cheap action movie as a teenager. He knows she did much better films afterward, remembers hovering behind the couch one night while Sarah was watching one of those awards shows, lingering just a bit longer when he saw her giving an acceptance speech with a blinding smile in a dress that probably cost more than his house. She’s certainly less elegant-looking now, but even after twenty years in a world like this, he can’t help the quick kick of his heart at actually meeting this woman in the flesh.

He clears his throat, also trying to clear his mind.

“Are you alone?” She sighs, wiping the blade of her knife on her jeans before sliding it back into its sheath.

“I wasn’t, and then I was. We were headed toward a settlement we heard about, I think a bit further north from here?” Joel keeps his expression steady, but can feel Ellie glancing at him. Movie star or not, he knows they have to be careful about who finds out about Jackson. But apparently, this woman isn’t just pretty, and she seems to pick up on the heavy pause after what she said.

“Do you two know about the place I’m talking about? Are we close?” Joel, sighs, looking at Ellie before making a decision that Tommy is probably going to smack him for later.

“We, um– we’re from there, actually. If you’re talking about where I think you’re talking about.” She huffs out a laugh, and offers them that megawatt smile Joel remembers seeing on his TV screen. Ellie, meanwhile, scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares at Joel.

“No shit. Do you think you have room for one more?” Joel’s eyes dart once more to Ellie, just seeing the subtle shake of her head, but he chooses to ignore it. How could he say no to the woman who had, embarrassingly, been one of his first wet dreams?

“You’ll have to talk with my brother, but I’m sure you’ll be welcome to stay on.” Megawatt, megawatt, megawatt. He reckons that smile could melt steel beams.

…

“Joel, what the fuck–”

“Ellie–”

“No, what are you thinking? If not Tommy, Maria’s gonna be so pissed she’ll probably cut your balls off.” He shushes the girl, glancing ahead at the woman hiking further in front of them.

“Look, she’s all alone– hardly a threat– and she’s looking for somewhere to stay–” She scoffs.

“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the way your eyeballs practically popped out of your head just looking at her?” He grumbles, hand tightening around the strap of his rifle.

“You just mind your own business, alright? I’ll take care of it.” Ellie huffs, starting to trudge further ahead of him, but not before muttering out “whatever you say, fanboy.” Joel is stunned still by her words.

“Where the hell did you get that word from?” She turns on her heel, walking backwards for a beat as she smirks at him.

“One of those old magazines. Pretty sure she was on the front page if you wanna borrow it.” Before he can get a word in edgewise, she’s already turning back around and continuing their hike back to Jackson.

…

“Holy shit. Joel, look who it is!” Joel grunts, nudging Tommy out of his starstruck stupor.

“Yeah, I know. Just hiked five miles with her.” Tommy laughs, slapping him on the back before grinning at her.

“It’s real nice to meet you. You know, Joel here had your poster on his bedroom wall–” The nudge he gives his brother this time is a little less friendly, causing Tommy to grumble and rub his arm. She, however, takes it in stride, laughing lightly as she shifts in her boots.

“I’m flattered, really. It’s, um, it’s nice to meet you, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes go wide.

“I can’t believe you just said my name. This is crazy–”

“Tommy.” Joel cuts his brother off with a hard look before he embarrasses himself anymore. He clears his throat, seeming to get a hold of himself as Joel continues.

“She had been traveling with a group, looking for this place. She’s the only one left though. Was hoping to join the town.” Tommy grins again, glancing between her and Joel.

“Well, I’m sure we can make that happen. I think Joel would kill me if I didn’t let–” He squeezes Tommy’s shoulder hard, willing him to shut his mouth. 

“That little house next to ours is still empty. Why don’t we set her up there?” Tommy’s smile at his brother’s words is all too smug for Joel’s taste, but he still nods, turning his attention back to her.

“If that’s alright with you, ma’am. I’ll let the folks know to turn the gas and electric back on for that place.” She smiles brightly at that.

“That would be amazing. Thank you so much. I owe you all big time.” Tommy snorts.

“I’m pretty sure you can pay Joel back with an autograph, he’d probably cre—“ Joel’s heard enough, resorting to kicking Tommy in the ankle to shut him up. Ellie huffs from where she’s watching their pathetic display.

“Alright, well if you two freaks are done making fools of yourselves, I’ll show her over to that house.” 

…

When Joel gets home, the first thing he does is look at that DVD. He had found it a week or two ago on a patrol shift, left in a hollowed-out RV. Ellie was less than impressed and Maria refused to show it at movie night because it’s so gory, but he held onto it anyways. He can still remember going to see it in the theater with Tommy, both of them too young to get in if not for their friend working the ticket booth. He flips the case over in his hands, and sure enough, there she is on the back cover, looking impossibly beautiful while firing a machine gun. What’s not to like, right?

He’s broken out of his revelry by the sound of the front door opening, and soon enough, Ellie is stomping up the stairs to come looking for him. When she finds him in his bedroom, sitting on the end of his bed, she glances at the DVD he’s holding, a grin spreading over her face.

“Just like you remember, huh, old man?” He grumbles, getting up to set the movie back on the bookshelf before turning back to Ellie.

“She settling in alright?” She hums, nodding lightly.

“Yep, made a beeline for a shower. Told me to thank you. I told her you’d be coming around for your autograph later.” His face crumples in indignation while Ellie lets out a cackle.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But in all seriousness, I think she’s interested– in you– which pains me to even say, but, I figure you deserve to know that the woman of your pubescent dreams was asking questions about you.” Joel’s jaw goes slack, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“She– she was asking about me?” Ellie nods around a smirk.

“Mmhmm. And I told her you’re a grumpy old bum who doesn’t take kindly to strangers.” He huffs, but she laughs again.

“Sorry, kidding again. I didn’t tell her much. Just that you’ll be around. But if I were you, I’d “be around” sooner rather than later, before the rest of Jackson gets a piece of her. Snatch her up before there’s sweeter bait to bite down on, you know?” He thinks briefly that he needs to see just what sort of magazines this kid is reading, because he can’t quite believe what’s coming out of her mouth. He grumbles, shaking his head at her antics.

“There ain’t gonna be any snatching going on. Just mind your–” She huffs, already walking out of his room.

“Mind my business, yeah, yeah, I know. But think about what I said, old man. Better cast your line quick for this one. My guess is you weren’t the only one who had her poster in your bedroom back before.” 

He’s not letting that kid read magazines anymore.

…

When he steps out on his porch later in the afternoon, fully intent on what Ellie has affectionately started calling his “adult nap time,” he’s interrupted by someone calling his name. He catches sight of her sitting on the porch of the little house next door, waving and smiling at him like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Hey, neighbor.” He tentatively waves back, but that doesn’t seem to satisfy her as she motions for him to join her. He sighs, rather stiffly walking over to her porch and joining her on the bench seat, keeping a very respectable distance between them. Clickers, raiders, general imminent danger, he can handle. Pretty lady? That’s touchy. Pretty lady who he imagined marrying as a teenager? Just put him out of his misery already. He knows it’s ridiculous, that none of that matters now. She’s just as worn and weathered as the rest of them by this crumbled world. But that smile she keeps flashing him might just bring him to his knees.

“I wanted to thank you– for bringing me along. I was, uh, starting to lose hope back there a little bit.” He nods, glancing at her.

“No need for thanks. Just the right thing to do in this world. I’m sorry– about your group. I don’t know what happened, but that couldn’t have been easy being out there on your own.” She shrugs, waving off his sentiment.

“It was barely a group to begin with. Just some folks who happened to get out of the San Francisco QZ together.” His brain is quickly trying to knit together the movie star he remembers from the past and this woman who sits before him now, an obvious edge to her.

“Were you in California? Back when everything…” She nods, her face set in a grim look.

“LA, where else? Now that was a nightmare. I bet the only worse place to be when everything went down was New York. Bodies everywhere. Don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” She lets out a humorless laugh before glancing at him.

“That movie you like so much? I remember when I got the role, I had no idea how I was gonna pull it off. Grizzled heroine with a dark past and a penchant for violence. I was nothing like her. But now, I feel a whole lot more like her and a whole lot less like me.” She sighs, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I dumped that on you.” Joel is quick to shake his head, leaning over his thighs to catch her gaze.

“No, no. I get it– in my own way, I guess. The world changed and– we had to change with it.” That coaxes a crooked smile out of her as she looks at him. A simple silence descends between them as they share quiet smiles. She finally giggles, scrunching her nose at him.

“That girl– Ellie? I think she said something about you wanting an autograph?” Joel can feel the hot blush creeping up his neck as his face goes slack. She just splits out in a laugh, tipping her head back in delight.

“I’m sorry, I’m kidding. But, you know, what I went by, what people still call me, that isn’t my real name.” Joel’s eyebrows quirk up and she sighs, shaking her head.

“Just a stage name. I don’t really mind people calling me that, but can I tell you my real name?” He can feel the smile tugging at his mouth as he nods. Before he knows what she’s doing, she’s taking his hand into her lap, slowly tracing out her name with her finger across his palm. An autograph, of sorts. He’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits, just barely stringing together her name as she finishes. He murmurs it lowly and she offers him her brightest smile yet, still holding his hand lightly in her own.

“And you’re Joel, right?” He’s only a little embarrassed by how quickly he nods.

“Mmhmm. Miller– Joel Miller, yep.” She lets out a breathy laugh, now clasping his hand in a firm shake.

“It’s nice to really meet you, Joel Miller.” 

[princessbrunette]

stepbro john b with a nympho reader? :PP

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🎀𖦹🍨₊ ⊹༘⋆

you’re openly ravenous, and it kills him. any other guy would be thrilled to have a girl as hot as you flaunting herself round in a bikini all day, throwing yourself at him. but john b had a good heart, although lead astray the brunette was often set on doing the right thing. what he thought would be the responsible thing to do, and despite jj’s constant goading — that didn’t entail boning his little step-sister.

“you ain’t never watched step porn? the fuck do you even search on pornhub, bro — holding hands? love making?” the blonde scoffs as he leans his elbows against the rickety wooden barrier, casting his fishing line over it.

“i don’t really watch— ugh, whatever. i can’t do that. it’s tempting, oh trust me — i am incredibly tempted, but… i was left in charge of her, okay? i—i can’t just take advantage of her like that. she’s probably just all messed up because both our parents left us for dead.” john b sighs, shaking his head out at the open still water. jj squints at him for a moment like he’s dumb before checking his own rod.

“take advantage of her? dude she’s practically offerin’ it up n’dangling it infront of your face. you know what i say? you just take the risk, show her how a real man does it, tell her enough with the slutty little girl games. s’what i’d do anyway.” he shrugs hypothetically.

“really jj? thats what you’d do?” john b blinks, deadpanned as he glances at his best friend, barely entertaining his rambling.

“sure would. look if you’re not gonna swoop on that shit i hope you don’t mind me tryin’ that door. she’s hot, man.”

the idea of jj trying you out didn’t sit well with john b. the way you acted sometimes was like you were famished, starved for dick, like it was your life line and your step brother was the only one who could save you. jj oddly had a way with ladies, he was brutish and pogueish and the girls knew he fucked rough and dirty. john b can’t see you resisting that, especially as you know it’ll get to him.

that’s why he walks straight into your bedroom with all the confidence in the world, and loses it the second you turn and look him in the eye.

“okay.” is all he says and you furrow your brows, already slinking towards him like there were magnets attached to the two of you.

“okay what, john b?” you tilt your head. everything you did, every little move and micro expression you made seemed to be a seduction tactic. a spell that couldn’t be broken because he was just a simple minded guy that thought with his dick at the end of the day.

“uh…” he lifts a hand up to scratch the back of his head and you take the opportunity to eye him, delighted to see that he was already half hard from the thoughts running through his mind. “yeah this was… not my finest idea aaaand, i didn’t really think this through—” he starts to talk, and momentarily distracted you take his tanned hand, pulling it to cup your cunt. “uh— so… that’s your pussy.” he deadpans obviously, lost for words.

you grin and nod, eyes fluttering when his muscle memory kicks in and his slides a thumb over your covered clit, nothing but the material of your bikini bottoms separating you. “nothin’ gets passed you, big bro.” you tease, pushing your body closer to him.

“so this step-sibling… conundrum… really doesn’t bother you. like, at all?” he clarifies, big brown eyes locked in on your lips as you stand on your tiptoes, breath now mingling and lips just nearly grazing his.

“uh-uh. s’not like we’re related.” you reason, and when it comes from your sweet voice he can’t argue.

“jesus.” he sighs into your mouth, practically sharing oxygen at this point. “you know what? fuck it.” he takes the leap, pressing his mouth to yours as to which you let out a delighted squeal, immediately jumping up on him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“we’re gonna have so much fun, john b.” you muse, almost happy to a sinister degree as you wrap your arms around his neck. he blinks up at you, guilty but sinfully aroused and presses his bulge between your split legs.

“thats the plan.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🎀𖦹🍨₊ ⊹༘⋆

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Obey me idea: what if MC was turned into a sheep for anonymity’s sake? Say Diavolo realized that a lot of demons hate humans and have long memories so he turned MC into a sheep and gave them a fake name to protect them from retaliation after the exchange was over? And the brothers turn yandere for MC over the course of the exchange but they have no idea who they are? Then MC leaves (and prob didn’t leave a contact number cause they saw the red flags lol) and they freak out and try to find them again? It’s like a dark version of Cinderella, where the brothers try to clue together where they could find MC, and when they do… the reunion will be fantastic 😊 so what would the brothers reactions be in this case?

Anonymous Sheep | Yandere Obey Me

Leaving it to Diavolo to make a conscious decision about your safety 

Never in a million years

But let's suspend our disbelief 

Let's say Diavolo actually had the forethought to put this in place for your protection against his favorite brothers

Ignoring the torture you ensued with your size, lack of hands, and your voice probably sounding weird

You’re mad grateful when it comes time to leave

Probably expressing your gratefulness when you start hanging out with him

He’s just so sad when you leave 

And even Barbatos is missing your presence in the castle 

So hey while the brothers are scrambling the internet and flying overhead in the human world to find some clue

Diavolo’s spending a lot more time in his new hotel

Hanging out with a specifically familiar human…

“Oh (Y/n)? No no, they're just…a friend…I made…who’s uh familiar with the human world…?”

Diavolo’s really bad with lying 

And eventually, Lucifer or Satan is picking up on the snake in the grass

“Hey…(Y/n) you ever heard about the devil dom?”

“What’s that?”

You best play dumb within an inch of your life

No nicknames, no laughing, nothing that gives you away

But the brothers are sly 

Satan or even Levi is slipping something into your food or trapping you in a perilous situation 

That forces you to admit your identity 

And when you do you are in trouble

“Ahhh~so, you thought you could run from us? With Diavolo no less? I’m sooo jealous!”

“Though we don’t have to be anymore now do we? Now that we found you we can take you back with us, right?”

“Yeah, not to mention we’ll get to discover this whole new side of you…the side you hid from us.” 

“Don’t pout, this is your fault for not giving us any way to contact you.”

“Yup! Speaking of do you have discord? Let me get it now! Or even better give me your password I’ll just see what you’ve got going on over here.”

“(Y/n), you're as light as you were before…I’ll have to make sure you eat more when we get home.”

The only one who can save you now is Diavolo or Barbatos

But Diavolo’s torn 

He loves being a part of the fun drama

What’s more fun than the siblings getting to know you more

“I’m interested to see what you guys think of the real (Y/n)! Haha, we’re already well acquainted. So I know everything…for the most part.”

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄

summary: after a quick stop by mostro lounge, you decide you can't leave octavinelle's students to their dreadful costume fate

pairing: jade leech x fashion savvy! reader

warnings: fluff/crack, a little suggestive at the end; just a small drabble to celebrate me getting jade's halloween ssr that appeared in my drafts before i knew what's going on

twisted wonderland masterlist

“And now, pray tell, what is this supposed to be?”

“We’re mummies,” Floyd eagerly grinned back at you when you entered Mostro Lounge. “Pretty neat, ain’t it, shrimpy?”

“I guessed as much from the form you submitted to the Halloween management committee.” You surveyed the warzone of torn white fabric the lounge had become and then zeroed in on the octotrio’s ‘costumes’, wondering in which world a mummy looked like a plucked chicken. “My actual question was, why do you look like toddlers who rolled around in a bunch of toilet paper?”

“Come again?” Azul tried to hide his shocked expression behind his hand as he adjusted his wired glasses.

“You’re well aware that mummies have a body shape too, right?” Walking up to Jade, you started inspecting the damage and what part of this fiasco was still savable, bunching fabric between your fingers and pulling at white clothing shreds. “Under different circumstances I’d be rather impressed that you managed to erase someone’s figure altogether but, with the festival in mind, I can’t let this pass. I can’t believe you put my boyfriend in this, Azul.”

“It’s truly tragic, pearl, isn’t it?” Jade played along, sighing tiredly as he raised one hand to cup your cheek. When your face was pressed into his chest, his palm cradling the back of your head, he threw a wicked grin Azul’s way. “To think that after all these years of knowing and supporting each other, you’d make us wear this when we’re expecting visitors from far and wide… I don’t want to linger on the thought.”

“Oh please, would you both quit being so dramatic?” Octavinelle’s housewarden rolled his eyes and massaged his temple before his shoulders sacked. “Alright fine, maybe the costumes weren’t our best work yet. Let’s hear your proposal then, Prefect.”

You hummed in contemplation as you studied the outfits again. “We can keep the striped shirts and the pants but we need decidedly more belts, a whole lot of them. And, if you know what’s good for you, then you'd better have untangled yourselves from the toilet paper looking crap by the time I’m back.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Azul asked as you were already halfway out of the dorm.

“I’m going to save Mostro Lounge!”

Upon your return, you were delighted to see the guys had followed your advice/ command and were waiting for you in only the long shirts and black trousers. When Jade saw you coming in, carrying a bunch of boxes filled with clothes and accessories, he quickly took them from you and set them down on the table next to them. 

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him, to which your boyfriend pressed a quick kiss to your temple. His brother did not hide the gagging noise he made. “Okay, let’s get to work. Halloween’s already drawing close and we’ll still have to make adjustments to the costumes for sure. 

“Here,” you said, digging through the cardboard boxes until you found the black shirts you’d been searching for. “Put these on. They should be roughly the right size.”

Turning around to let them change, you searched for the accessories you’d deemed the show-stealers. Brushing over leather, you hooked your fingers into the metal ring of a harness to hold it up. You really owed Pomefiore for this one.

“Oya, shrimpy, watcha have there?” Floyd’s amused lilt told you that he was pretty aware of what exactly it was. “You wanna catch yourself a fish? Or an eel, hmm?”

“I have to say, it is a pretty daring approach to a Halloween school costume,” Jade chimed in, one hand resting on his chin in contemplation but nonetheless smiling. “Not that I am opposed to it, of course.”

“Prefect, is this really necessary?” Azul shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking at you but not quite into your eyes. “I mean I understand refining our apparel but this…”

“Azul, I’m making you marketable right now,” you said earnestly and with that, his azure eyes finally snapped to you. “Do you know how much potential profit is tied to this one little accessory? C’mon, try it on. You can still decide not to wear it afterwards. For now, just go with the flow.”

One by one, you helped them secure the straps around their torso, having Jade hold Floyd still enough to get it on him. You could see Azul fidgeting from the corner of your eye as you put the finishing touches on Jade’s harness, slipping two fingers underneath the straps to make sure it wasn’t too tight.

“Okay, let’s get the shirts back on, add some more belts, cut up the fabric and get this show on the road. I can basically see people banging down your doors already. I hope you can seat that many guests.” The last sentences were more so directed at Azul, in an effort for him to just let you do your thing. “I don’t have any sort of hat prepared because I frankly didn’t expect to save a dorm’s costume today but I’ll see what I can do.”

“My my, that does pose the question of where we’d be without you,” Jade chuckled affectionately. 

“Out of business on Halloween, apparently,” you sighed theatrically. “Well then, chop chop guys, I want to see the entire thing.”

After they all pulled their striped shirts back on, you added more belts around their hips and waist to give the outfit more shape but didn’t tug the shirts in to mimic a mummy’s peeled off bandages. All in all, it wasn’t the most elaborate costume but it did the trick and if you could put some finishing touches on it throughout the week, you were confident the lounge would attract a fair share of customers. 

“Alright, that’s it. You can go around and do some work or whatever just to get a feel for the clothes. Remember, you’ll have to wear them for the entirety of the festival, so I want to remove anything that might be uncomfortable beforehand. And Floyd, don’t drag those white sleeves through the dirt, got it? They should stay the colour they are now.” You sent the eel a warning glare and he held his hand up in defence, although the grin he didn’t bother to hide before he vanished to the Seven know where wasn’t reassuring. 

Azul had apparently already slinked back into his office, leaving you standing alone in the lounge with your boyfriend, giving you ample time to admire your work again. Seeing Jade in something like this was certainly something you’d been very curious about, with good right as you learnt now; the black shirt highlighting his muscle and the leather holding your attention were leading your thoughts down a very different direction. Something he must have caught on to somehow.

“Do you like what you see, pearl?” He teased, his grin showing off his sharp teeth as he studied you with mischievous interest. Maybe it was your imagination but in the dimly lit lounge, his left eye seemed to glow. “I cannot help but wonder why you’d extend your gracious assistance to us without wanting anything in return, not that I am not grateful of course. 

“Perhaps you merely wanted to seize your chance to put me into something like this?” He gestured towards the harness secured around his chest, his attentive gaze not flitting from your face for even a second. “You know you need only ask if you have any more… fantasies of this nature.”

“I— It’s nothing like that! You make me sound like some pervert,” you protested, although, to your embarrassment, he wasn’t completely wrong. But, seriously, who would pass up a situation like this? “Anyway, don’t you have anything to do? You’re usually busy around the clock.”

“Oh, I have something very important to do,” he grinned down at you, taking a step closer to you, to the point you had to take one back, until he could crowd you against the bar. Now that he had you right where he wanted you, his hands smoothed down the sides of your body until he could place his hands on the back of your thighs to effortlessly lift you onto the counter. It happened so fast, you let out a surprised yelp and braced yourself against his chest, to which he merely chuckled. 

“And what would that work entail?” You questioned as you ran your fingers along the straps of the harness spanning his broad chest. Looking up you saw his attention already on you.

“Under normal circumstances it would require me to get out of these clothes. But, per your request, that is currently not possible.” Leaning into your personal space, his lips brushed over the delicate skin of your pulse point, his breath fanning over the base of your neck as he lowered his voice to a whispered husk. “I am fairly certain though, the same restrictions do not apply for your clothes, my precious pearl. I can definitely work with that.”

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[sepublic]

            I wanna analyze part of the exchange between Luz and the Titan, because I’m seeing some people misunderstand it by claiming the show is saying that Luz doesn’t need to self-reflect because she always means well, unlike THOSE guys (Nevermind everything she and others have gone through up until this point). Maybe I’m repeating the obvious, but;

         “I’m not so kind. When I saw the Collector fly up to Belos, I hoped with all my heart I would see them blast him away, and-”

         Here we have Luz insinuating that she’s not kind, simply on account of wanting Belos dead; Nevermind the fact that she has plenty of justified reason to want gone someone who has maliciously caused her and her loved ones so much pain, trauma, and agony across so much time.

         “Hey, I can relate. I was willing to do anything to keep my kid safe. But I attacked the wrong person, dragged the Collector down here for nothing.”

         The Titan does relate to feeling shame over ugly emotions like hatred and anger, which can make people lash out; Bringing up how those feelings brought him to make a terrible mistake that would have a lasting ripple effect on the Boiling Isles up until now.

         “Does that make us as bad as Belos?”

         At which point, Luz drops the question, the false equivalency that it’s fair for her to nevertheless entertain for the sake of self-reflection; Does her and the Titan feeling anger and even hurting people over it, or planning to, make them as bad as Belos?

         “What? Have you been drinking Eda’s homemade apple blood?”

         The Titan’s skepticism over this false comparison is self-explanatory.

         “Well, Belos says he’s trying to save humanity, and we’re saying we want to save our families, so isn’t that the same thing? Don’t- Don’t these feelings come from the same place?”

         When Luz says ‘feelings’, she’s very much talking about anger, even hatred; The kind that drives people to fight and even hurt others. Belos is angry, but Luz notes that so is she, as was the Titan, and all of them claim to do this over loved ones they’re worried about, right? That’s the ‘same place’ she’s referring to.

         “Well, you assume Belos’ goal comes from a genuine place. But, that man doesn’t care about anything but his need to be the hero in his own delusion. And because of that, he fears what he can’t control.”

         That’s when the Titan clarifies the difference; The anger of the victim is not the same as the anger of the abuser. The anger of the oppressed is not comparable to the anger of the oppressor. Anger doesn’t necessarily make you the bad guy, especially when it moves people to do the right thing. Both Luz and the Titan are angry, yes; But they’re angry because they legitimately have loved ones, and themselves, who have been hurt, and are genuinely at stake here. They're still allowed to feel this way. They only want Belos dead because they can’t get him to stop hurting people, so this is the only option left to make him stop endangering others.

         Whereas Belos’ hatred is that of the colonizer; He never really had anyone at stake here. Humanity was never in any real danger, especially not Caleb, whom Philip consciously disrespects by going against everything Caleb stood for, despite Caleb having made it clear with an open-armed welcome that this would never have to exclude his love for his brother. Philip made the decision to choose a world over his brother, NOT Caleb who understood he should theoretically have both, as a parallel/foil to Luz who wants both, but is still struggling to accept she can have that.

         Dana confirmed at Pixelatl –and it’s fairly obvious even without said confirmation- that she based Belos off of televangelists, cult leaders, the conservative relative, etc. The first two especially are hardcore bigots, the kind who really double down on their prejudice, and actively make it happen on a larger scale; These are the kind of people who go past that reasonable point of being well-intentioned but misinformed about their biases.

         Yes, Luz and Belos are both angry, but Belos’ anger is that of the reactionary conservative, hence “fearing what he can’t control.” He claims to feel threatened, but unlike people like Luz who really are endangered and fighting for their lives, the only thing being threatened is Belos’ worldview of supremacy and self-righteousness, so like a lot of right-wing “morality police” and the like.

         In the end, TOH is calling out how bigotry did not start from a place of good intentions, which is fitting given Belos represents the type of OG bigot, the Puritans who were among many who made contact with the Native Americans and vice-versa; Prejudice was born as a way to justify narratives of power and control, by dehumanizing others and thus justifying their suffering and exploitation for the sake of those who ‘really’ matter. These narratives, when perpetuated, create self-fulfilling prophecies and issues that the misguided but well-meaning are concerned about, which leads them down flawed attempts to address these problems.

         This is to say people who genuinely mean well, who have been hurt and do have others at stake, can make mistakes; This very exchange reminds us that the Titan hurt the Collector, something she does nothing to justify, and something the viewers know was objectively wrong, and has deep consequences as we’re currently seeing. Luz and the Titan both contributed to the Collector falling into Belos’ hands, but while Luz was genuinely manipulated and didn’t realize what was going on, the Titan chose to lash out at a bystander because she couldn’t channel her anger successfully towards the Archivists.

         But the Titan has learned, and she’s recognized what she’s done as wrong, and she’s made efforts to undo and make up for that. And it’s important to remember how all of this was prompted by the genocide of the Archivists, who claim to be preserving life, yet destroy it when it does not heed their plans. People are still responsible on an individual level, but it’s also worth noting how the system can influence them, just as it did for Amity and Lilith. And the system was started by people who didn’t really have a system over their heads, or were rebelling against a different kind.

         It’s not as if TOH is saying you can’t mean well and make mistakes; So much of the show is about people meaning well and making mistakes, especially parents towards their children. And this is fitting since a well-meaning parent nevertheless hurting her child is the inciting incident of the series, and it’s something that is brought up and resolved in the previous episode between Luz and Camila. Hell, Luz herself understands that meaning well can hurt others, like when she kept secrets from Amity, under the guise of not wanting to burden her girlfriend.

         TOH still has plenty of examples of genuine intent leading to bad things; So it’s entirely reasonable, in this case, to bring up the original people who codified bigotry and prejudice, because being a freak and a weirdo does not happen in a vacuum, it is in relation to a society. At some point you have to discuss WHY someone is considered strange; Who designated the guidelines for the deviant, and by extension, what are the guidelines for what is ‘normal’, who decided this would be normal, and why? And that’s why the story brings these back to the settlers who made contact with the Native Americans and vice-versa, and established a precedent for prejudice towards these people.

         The point is that the show is refuting the centrist idea of Both Sides, that if you’re violent and/or angry then you’re just as bad as the oppressor, if not worse; Victims are allowed to be angry, they have a right to be upset, as Eda herself says. You can’t expect them to appeal solely by peace when that’s clearly not working out, hence Raine and Darius’ rebellions, which do necessitate violence at times, even if they’d love to minimize it and try; Which is why the finale shows the initially-cautious CATTs accepting covenscouts who are willing to change, why Kikimora is shown doing community service (and that's assuming it's not just a job given her lack of uniform; She may have been allowed to reintegrate into society as a regular citizen).

         Between the juxtaposition of the Collector hearing about how Amity and Lilith were successfully appealed to, and applying that to Belos, only for that to fail as Luz explains this individual situation is a bit more complicated… Basically, what the show is saying is that you should choose to be kind and give chances and grace, anyone can change; But people also have a right to prioritize themselves in self-defense, and just in general health, when people continue to refuse to reciprocate, and leave no other choice. Because there’s still responsibility on the other party to respond to these offers of kindness, and make the same choice to improve the world; They have free will, everyone does, and you can’t force people to be better, anymore than the Collector can force people to be their friends.

         Not to mention how victims have a right to be upset and don’t owe forgiveness, but at the same time, the concept of Restorative VS Retributive Justice argues that it’s better for the world if everyone improved; That doesn’t mean victims have to forgive or even necessarily help, because improving oneself does not rely on your victims doing you favors. It’s ultimately about harm reduction; Ideally, harm is reduced by helping people open their minds and change, but if that isn’t working and the person keeps hurting and even killing others, then yes, harm must be reduced by imprisoning, or even killing them in self-defense.

         Hence the difference in that Luz’s anger comes from ultimately wanting to reduce harm and being frustrated by those who continue to perpetuate it; Versus Belos whose anger isn’t really meant to prevent harm, but pointlessly cause more of it, because of his immature disgust towards those different, as well as the supremacy and selfishness that actively puts down others for Belos’ own sake (because Caleb isn’t allowed to have more than one person in his life, apparently).

         And note that Belos is already at the end of his life (because people only have so much time to change before it's cut short by death), because extending it requires sacrificing palismen, which goes against harm-reduction; So they can’t just imprison Belos without killing him. And in the end, the protagonists don’t prolong Belos’ misery by letting the boiling rain finish him off, they get it over with by stomping on him; Not only does this allow them to vent much-deserved anger towards an oppressor, but it cuts away any chance of Belos coming up with something last-second by just ending him right there. That reduces harm from Belos, and harm TO Belos, because his death isn’t any longer than it needs to be.

         And on Luz’s side, her not doing anything to Belos is justified because it’s about her refusing to help him, thus standing for herself and what she believes, and not letting this traumatic, gaslighting presence have any more power over her. Luz still allows her loved ones to finish off Belos; Her not responding to Belos is about reducing harm to herself.

         It’s a lot of stuff. It’s about balancing a lot of seemingly conflicting, opposite ideas, like Luz balancing two worlds; As she herself explains to the Collector, it can be “complicated.” It’s about nuance, and a case-by-case basis; Because note that the Titan doesn’t tell Luz that she will always be right because SHE always means well. Just that in this specific case, in regards to this specific guy, things are not equivalent. Hence why the Titan focuses on deconstructing Belos and not Luz. 

This moment specifically is breaking down colonial rhetoric by calling it out for what it actually is, because Belos is 100% a colonizer and this is one of the most important aspects of his character, and his contributions, to the narrative. And whatever mistakes Luz and the Titan made, at least they care enough to make up for it, because they really are trying to do this for others, instead of prioritizing an ego trip; That kind of mentality is doomed to being static. I'd argue the Titan isn't necessarily saying that Belos never cared about anyone (AKA Caleb) period, just that in the context of his 'protecting humanity' claim, he wasn't doing it for anyone because there was nobody in any actual danger, and he knows it. Philip wasn't actually concerned for Caleb's sake when he killed him.

[cultofdixon]

Hard Exterior, Soft Interior

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • After the loss of Merle, he couldn’t lose you too. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Scars / Anxiety / Depression

Requested by: Anon

You know those hard candies with the gooey interior? Can I think of an example?…uhh…bon bons? Tootsie pops have the soft interior…then there’s the gross lollipops with gum inside.

But anyway. The general idea of hard candies with soft insides.

That’s kind of like Daryl…and when I told him that. He of course thought it was a stupid concept.

I’ll always think that tho

~

Oh, you’re wasting my time

“Hey”

You’re just, just, just wasting time

“Hey Y/N?”

Something happens and I’m head over—- Y/N quickly removes the headphones to her walkman to finally acknowledge Dale’s existence. “Hey, sorry”

“Lost in your own little world huh?” Dale laughs as does she but a bit more embarrassment infused. “I need a favor”

“Oh Uhm. Dale I hear what comes from your RV at night and I’m not—-“

“OKAY” Dale yells laughing nervously. “Not the kind of favor I’m askin’…you know the new guy that came back?”

“Lori’s husband? Yeah he seems nice”

“Oh yeah he is. Just. Uhm.”

“Dale. Just spit it out” Y/N started to get annoyed.

Wait for the sign to flick the switch of death

“Merle!”

It’s the beginning of the end

“Merle come on out!” Daryl snaps returning from his hunt to this new guy with familiar faces getting up in his.

Sweat, chilling cold, as I watch death unfold Y/N watches Daryl get up in the faces of the others in the camp while having her headphones on. To avoid hearing Daryl’s enraged yelling. Consciousness, my only friend

“You left him?! ON A GODDAMN ROOF?” Daryl snaps at the sheriff standing before him.

My fingers grip with fear

What am I doing here?

Y/N suddenly lunged forward and her headphones slipped off her ears naturally as she grabs Daryl’s arm pulling him back after he got a punch in.

“Stop”

“They left him. They fucking LEFT HIM” Daryl yells feeling the anger continue to brew inside of himself. He was about to act on it once more until Y/N brought herself right in front of him pressing her hands firmly on his chest.

“Hurting him, will do nothing for you and won’t bring him back” Y/N states not moving from her spot until he relaxed.

“Who’s that?” Rick questions his best friend as Shane turns to who he was talking about.

“Y/N”

“Sister?”

“Fuck no. If she was, I wouldn’t have a hidden interest” Shane whispers the last part. “She’s one of the only few that’s close to the redneck.”

“Well I gotta thank her, or I’d be on the floor in a pool of my own blood…already was before this hell” Rick laughs slightly before pulling Shane with him to discuss the Merle situation.

We can go dancing, we can go walking

Daryl frowns holding the walkman in hand after Y/N has given it to him to listen to some of her cassettes to calm him down.

As long as we’re together (As long as we’re together)

Listen to some music, maybe just tal—- Daryl quickly removes the headphones when Y/N approached his little campsite away from the main one. “Hey…”

“Hey so, Rick has a plan to go back and get Merle. Wanted me to come get yea to see if you’ll join them”

A sense of relief washed over him the first time when Y/N pretty much stated she will stay at the campsite while they take care of rescuing his bitchass brother.

“Hey”

Daryl brought his attention back to her eyes full of worry. “Yeah?”

“If you do this. Go back to the city? Please be safe. Okay?” Y/N’s smile temporarily returned to grace her features as he mentally took a picture of such.

As long as she’s safe…

He will be

What do I do to ignore them behind me?

Do I follow my instincts blindly?

The scream rang through the forest and startled everyone in the campsite. Y/N immediately grabbed the bat that helped her from the city before Glenn saved her and went to help her newfound family.

Do I hide my pride from these bad dreams?

And give in to sad thoughts that are maddening?

The small Atlanta group returned from a failed mission and was met with sickos infesting. Daryl gripped his crossbow tightly and went in search for her.

Do I sit here and try to stand it?

Or do I try to catch them red-handed?

Y/N crushed the head of the walker that was tripped by the archer standing behind it. She sighs relieved that he’s safe and sound. While the sense of relief graced him a second time. Daryl gestures for her to remove her headphones which she did.

“You always fight better listening to music?”

“I do a lot of things better when listening to music” Y/N smiles looking at the damage taken to her bat and dropped it once she made the executive decision that it was unusable. “Guess I need a new one or something brand new”

“Yknow I could always teach yea to use one of these” Daryl smirks gesturing to his crossbow as his smirk fades slightly when she laughs a little.

“I’d love that, D”

And his smile planted itself on his face thankful this horror show was over with.

Now after said horror and coming to the decision, everyone who was alive started to pack up for the CDC and Y/N put her backpack in the passenger seat of Daryl’s truck while he got his bike situated in the bed of it.

“Got a cassette ready?”

“You know me so well” Y/N smirks holding up said cassette tape before putting her bag by the feet of the seat and climbing in.

Here we go to another candle I know

All the girls, they’re playing on a jelly roll

Time to take a ride, time to take it in a midnight eye

And if you wanna go, get on below

“Y/N…yea think we’ll find Merle?”

“Probably. Just one less hand.” Y/N smiles trying to hide her laugh when stating that, even if Daryl thought it was a bit funny as well. “He’s like a roach in this world. It’s gonna probably take a nuclear bomb to get him off the planet”

“I hope he turns up soon. Yknow? He’s the only family I’ve got”

“Hey!” She playfully acted offended as she took his unoccupied hand into hers. “We’re family”

Pinking out the day

Dreaming out the crazy way

Finger on the love

Their connected hands never parted once she took a hold of it.

It’s all above

The CDC felt like a luxury…no one deserved. Especially after all the lives that were lost because someone failed to inform about this virus. Or however the hell this could’ve been avoided.

Y/N suddenly felt stressed being in this glorified bunker as she mainly observed the others enjoy themselves. She only really felt better about the overwhelming emotions coursing through her when he would look at her. Even as drunk as he was.

Look at the stars, look how they shine for you

And everything you do

Yeah, they were all yellow

The archer offered the bottle to Y/N as she happily declined. She watches him hand the bottle over to Glenn as he took it for himself to get drunk for probably the first time in his life. Daryl then got situated right beside her turning to her reading what he could from her expression.

All she was, was tired. In that moment none of them had to fight or fear for their lives. Y/N wanted to remember this always. Being right beside him.

I came along, I wrote a song for you

And all the things you do

And it was called “Yellow”

________

The Dixons joined the campsite and did their part by hunting for the group. In return they got a group to watch their back and help with whatever may be asked. Even if they were stubborn enough to not accept the help offered.

Daryl returned from a quick hunt with a minor injury that he didn’t think much of. But after dropping off the catch, he didn’t think it would be noticed. The cut on his arm.

Then she came to their small camp set up holding her first-aid kit in one hand and her walkman in the other.

“Hey pretty lady”

Of course Merle was first to acknowledge her existence and make Daryl come out of his tent to try to prevent his brother from saying anything vulgar to who came. But hell. The pretty lady was indeed very pretty.

“Uhm. It’s Y/N…not whatever you said. Anyway” Y/N tossed the kit to Daryl as he fumbled a bit. “Thought you could use that”

“Don’t wanna stay?” Merle pouts as Daryl groans to his question before elbowing him to go away which he did with a groan.

Leaving the two alone for a moment.

“Thanks…I’ll uh. Give it back when I’m done”

“Okay. You’ll know where to find me” and that smile of hers struck him right in the heart.

________

So then I took my turn

Y/N laid comfortable in the bed made for her as she shared a room with Daryl. She laid on her side facing the archer who slept peacefully.

Oh, what a thing to have done

And it was all yellow…

In the middle of the night, Daryl woke out of anxious habit from when he was younger. He brought himself to turn toward the person he was sharing the room with to find her dangerously close to him.

Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones

Turn into something beautiful

He quietly lays back down after sitting up slightly, gently brushing the hair back out of the way of her face. Watching her face scrunch up a bit before finally relaxing and snuggling closer without touching him.

You know, you know I love you so

You know I love you so

As the next morning came around…and most were painfully hungover, Daryl found himself still laying down beside Y/N not wanting to move from his spot. Watching her be content, safe, alive and well…he didn’t want the moment to end. Didn’t want to feel like the world would end a second time if she were to leave it.

The second she stirred awake, part of him wanted to stay…tell her something that’s been on his mind since the day he met her…but instead. Daryl brought himself to sit up and sit on the edge of the makeshift bed giving the two a bit of space.

“Good morning” She yawns out the greeting listening to him reply with the same phrase as his voice was music to her tired ears. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright. Got a bit of a headache”

“Mm. You did drink a lot” Y/N laughs softly as she grabs her backpack taking out a small bottle of pain killers and handing it to him while he grabbed his canteen shortly after.

“Yea didn’t—-“

“I wanted to” Y/N smiles warmly as she pulls the blanket gently off of her and put her important belongings back in her backpack “You think someone is making breakfast? Or literally doing anything”

“Smelled somethin’ but don’t know what” Daryl handed her back the pain killers as she tossed the bottle carelessly into the bag before pulling out her earbuds that she could use to share her tunes with.

“Wanna just…sit and listen to music for a bit then? Before the world needs us?”

Daryl couldn’t and never would say no to that. He brought himself back to her side taking one earbud as she put hers in before getting her mixtape in.

Love of mine, someday you will die

And I’ll be close behind, I’ll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white

The two instinctively laid down side by side, their hands barely touching.

Just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark

Daryl’s pinky tapped Y/N’s hand a few times before hers locked with his.

If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied

Illuminate the “no”s on their vacancy signs

Y/N brought herself to turn to Daryl watching him do the same as they kept their attention on the other. They slowly inched toward the other when the sudden yelling caught their attention.

If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks

Then I’ll follow you into the dark

The clock. The clock that everyone took noticed in the CDC when they first entered the giant room of computers…was a doomsday clock on its own. Once it hits zero, the power goes out and the building goes.

That’s a fiery death no one wants…unless, they are done with the horrors of what’s outside the CDC.

In Catholic school, as vicious as Roman rule

I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black

And I held my tongue as she told me, “Son..

Fear is the heart of love,” so I never went back

“Y/N! Come on!” Daryl yells to her frozen state as Y/N’s gaze was glued to the clock on the wall watching it slowly go down. “Y/N!” He continues to yell before running over to her and noticing the questioning look on her face. “Nah. You ain’t staying”

“Daryl…”

“No!”

“But this…just…” Y/N started to tear up at the thought that she wanted an escape like this. “Daryl I don’t…I don’t know what I want anymore”

“But I do! I know what I want” Daryl himself, the hard exterior of the tough lone wolf redneck that stood before her, cracked open. “And that’s you. You in my life” to show that soft interior.

If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied…

“I can’t lose you too. I don’t want to lose you ever” Daryl admits watching her features soften as he carefully pressed his forehead against hers which lead to the tears pouring from her eyes. “I’ve lived. I understand that. But I haven’t truly appreciated the life I was given until you came into it. I need you to stay in it” he begged and no one has ever heard him beg once before.

Illuminate the “no”s on their vacancy signs…

As the group tried to get the glass to break, Daryl came running in with Y/N in his arms. The moment he came is when he saw the grenade in Rick’s hand right as he pulled the pin. He quickly crouched covering Y/N’s body with his own feeling her tighten her grasp on him as the explosion shook them both slightly.

Daryl quickly pulled back to check her features feeling her hand gently caress his cheek before he got back up carrying her out.

If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks…

The archer got her to his truck when the eruption of the CDC shook the ground they stood on as Daryl quickly knelt to the ground gripping onto Y/N for dear life as she did the same while the tears poured from her eyes.

“Please don’t ever let go of me”

“I won’t. I promise. I’ll promise every day if I gotta Y/N” Daryl states pulling back once the eruption settled and Y/N was gently placed on her own footing.

Y/N straightened up with Daryl feeling his hands plant on her hips as she couldn’t help the tears from falling even faster.

“I love you”

Daryl quickly moved his hands from her hips to her face, firmly pressing his lips to hers. Finally after all this time of pining. He felt his own tears fall as he gently pulls away from her lips bringing her body close to his.

“I love you so much you have no idea”

Then I’ll follow you into the dark

[dreaming-of-lu]

Continuation to this ask

CW: Self-deprecation (in Sky’s part)

Part 1

Part 2 of 3 (Warriors, Four, Sky)

Warriors

The captain usually kept his head high on his shoulders, never once drooping or faltering. He was a proud man, sometimes occasionally getting in over his head, but it was inevitable since he was just like the other men who all shared the same namesake and wielded the triforce of courage on the back of their hands. Brothers in arms that he admired for their strength in places he lacked, which they made up for.

Chosen hero or not, he was still a Hylian; there were days when he didn't want to listen to others. Consistently, he wanted to not exist as the captain and be a stranger to all so he could breathe. There were regrets, deep ones indeed. Ones that scarred harshly, but were invisible to the eyes.

"Ya know," a form blocked his view of the sun, "looking directly into the sun for too long can destroy your retina." “Oh?” he blinked away the dryness that took place, splotches of colors danced in his vision; his voice limp, “I hope so.” “...Hey, what’s wrong?” The frown was evident in their voice, making him wince lightly at the worried tone. He shifts in his spot, avoiding the question as he faintly picks at the scar on his left arm. Warriors jolt when they softly grabbed his hand, pulling it away slowly and carefully that made him huff at the gentleness they gave him. He kept avoiding their eyes, not once looking in their direction, “Don’t wanna talk about it...please,” he muttered.

“You don’t have to at all; want me to leave?”

“No,” he swallowed thickly, “stay here with me?”

“Of course, darling.”

Sky

“I honestly don’t want to be here right now,” Sky looked up from his carving at the sudden proclamation that left your lips. His brows furrowed when you didn’t say anything else after that; he never thought words like that would ever leave your lips, it sort of scared him a little and he felt a cinch in his chest. You were, well, not new that’s for sure to him, but to the others, you were new to the group.

He knew you all too well on the back of his hand, your likes and dislikes. Your dreams and hopes. He knew it all and he cherish them as much as he cherished you. Though, seeing you like this and hearing you sound so...broken, made his lip quiver.

“Why...why’s that?” He asked softly, keeping his voice calm to hide the wavering in it.

You weakly shrugged your shoulders, “Just felt like it. I could be too much in my head right now or hell, overthinking a bunch of dumb shit I said in the past. Ma’s probably pissed at me right now, deeming with the words that she said in the letter to me. Don’t get me wrong, I love being with you guys and all, but there’s only so much shit I can handle at this point and- look at me, complaining about this to you.”

You covered your face with your hands, a helpless watery laugh left you, “I’m fucking pathetic, aren’t I?”

Sky sets the carving and knife aside; settling his body down next to you while taking his sailcloth and putting it over you. His hand ran through your hair as he struggled to keep himself in check for you,

“You aren’t pathetic at all. You’re so strong whether you realize it or not. I get how you feel in a sense; it’s okay to feel, you know? It’s okay to cry. I- We don’t expect you to carry the entire world on your shoulders alone that’s what we’re here for.” “But it’s not fair to co-” “I’m going to stop you right there,” Sky interrupts you, “you are human. Your feelings are valid.”

He breathed in through his nose and slowly exhaled out his mouth, “I don’t expect you to be a hero at all, you know? You’re such a talented, beautiful and kind soul that I’ve ever met in my life. I love hearing the stories you paint to us, I love the songs you sing that I never heard of before. I love how you feel and- and just being honest to us while lending an ear. You don’t give yourself a lot credit than you realize.”

It’s silent between you, save for the chirping of birds and the running of water nearby. You piped up,

“Sky?” 

“Hmm?”

“You’re such a sweetheart.” “So are you.”

Four

Four usually wouldn’t share his mind with anybody within the chain, he kept more so to himself. While yes, he shared ideas or theories with the others, the rest? Hidden. Locked under key and away from sight. Though when it came to you? It’s a dam spilling over; you don’t got to understand what he’s saying, just listening is enough to make him goop.

He could ramble all about the different metals and hijinks that exist all day to you if given the chance. He would flush slightly under your gaze and attention that stayed on him as he continued to shoot off thoughts to you. He always wanted it on him; selfish a bit? You could say that. Yet, why did he curl today under your sight on him? 

He tried so hard to avoid you, not once even glancing or speaking in your direction; just curt answers to others and putting up a wall to distance himself from the group. He was tired, not willing to mentally argue with himself as flashes of dark memories rose in numbers in his mind. There was bags under his eyes that’s for sure from the sleepless nights, the slump in his shoulders were more visible than ever, and for this, he failed at dodging you.

“Rupee for your thoughts?” you sounded timid when you settled next to him.

“...There are none,” he shrugged.

“Oh...i-is it something I’ve done or have said that might’ve upset you?” Goddesses, you were picking at your fingers; a nervous tick he figured out, but seeing you be anxious at the thought of him being upset at you? It didn’t sit right with his stomach.

“Goodness, no!” he splutters, “it’s just...been a rough time, I guess.”

You slumped in relief, “how bad?”

“...bad enough,” he mutters.

“Do you want me to give you some alone time?”

“No, just you is enough for me.”

[8aji]

too busy saving everybody else to save yourself. // s.s.

to think of a life without him filled you up with such sorrow you thought you'd let yourself drown just to be with him one last time. — or, an account of the events that transpired after the night of august 14, 2003.

pairing. shinichiro sano x baji!reader

wc. 18k

tags/cw. MDNI, angst with happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, baji!reader (reader is baji’s sibling), manga spoilers, shinichiro lives, anxiety/panic attacks, smoking, mentions of death, characters cry a lot, mentions of head trauma + hospitals + needles + blood, reader gets called 'nee-chan' a couple of times but other than that its pretty gn, very suggestive (one make/out sesh), takeomi is clowned a lot + please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n. its finally done sob i spent so much time polishing this as much as i could and what was supposed to be a 1k drabble mutated into this lmfao but all in all this fic is my baby, my child, and i love it so so much i just hope y'all will like it as much as i do !! a massive thanks to @tetsutits for betaing and to @mosviqu for letting me run the storyline through her !! hope all of u enjoy lots n lots !!

m.list ˖ tags ˖ byi/dni

One step, one blink, one breath, one step, one blink, one breath; like on autopilot, the pattern repeated itself over and over again. You could feel it beating inside your skull; the pounding of your heart resonated throughout your body, acting as the fuel behind your every move. 

Your blurry gaze amplified all of your other senses, sending your brain into a downward spiral of emotional overwhelm; the loud keyboard clicking, the obnoxious chatter, the drinking and munching of coffee and donuts, all of it made you want to tear your ears off. How could the world keep turning, people existing like normal, while you were being consumed by the tightness enveloping your lungs? The thought made you want to light up the whole building, watch it burn as the flames simmered the concrete to ashes to relieve the turmoil brewing inside your body. 

“I'm coming for Baji Keisuke?” You asked, barely managing to string the words together in a coherent sentence, head going a thousand miles per hour. “He’s my brother.”

The officer behind the desk pulled down his magazine, looking you over and taking in your dishevelled state. “Ah,” he sighed as soon as your brother's profile appeared on his screen. “Baji Keisuke, the little rascal with the breaking and entering charges, huh?”

lips forming into a thin line, you nodded, biting your tongue so as to not insult the man in front of you who, for some reason, couldn't help but chuckle, as if a twelve year-old kid being detained was funny. 

“Can I see him?”

He gave you one last obnoxious glance, before typing on his computer.

“He’s currently under police custody,” he explained condescendingly as if you didn’t know, pulling a manila folder and pressing the button on the printer, handing you a pen in the meantime. “He's only got a minor charge compared to the other brat he came in here with,” He let out a quiet cackle, not wanting to attract anyone else’s attention. To you, it was like he acted this nonchalant to rile you up, make your blood boil. And, in spite of your reluctance to admit to it, it was working. Being in his presence made you want to punch him. “We’re betting on whether the other kid’s gonna get charged with manslaughter or not.

“And just between us,” he made a come hither motion, but leaned forward on his chair at your lack of reaction. “I’m betting in favor of manslaughter, so I'm crossing my fingers for the guy to die soon, ‘ya know?”

Had you been wearing long sleeves, he would’ve been able to see you rolling them up, emotionally prepared to be charged with aggravated assault against a police officer

Fortunately, another officer called out your name, catching your attention before you could act on the violent scenarios coursing through your brain. You didn’t bother excusing yourself before leaving to find your brother.

He looked small, smaller than he actually was, as he sat on the floor with both his knees close to his chest. His eyes were puffy and red, it was obvious he had been crying; though by the looks of it, he had yet to stop.

The cell door sounded like nails against a chalkboard as it scraped against the floor. It made him flinch in surprise, snapping him out of the borderline-dissociating trance as he looked up at the intimidating officer, trying to gauge his intentions while gathering all the energy he had left in his body to fight off the man just in case he needed to. But as soon as he made eye contact with you he could feel himself lowering his guard. 

He didn’t even hesitate, his body moved on his own, running past the officer and straight into your arms, letting the harsh sobs he had tried bottling up rack his body, along with muffled apologies and incoherent explanations.

“It's okay,” you mumbled against his hair, trying to calm down his heart wrenching cries. He nuzzled his face against your neck, trying to get impossibly closer to the sound of your voice. You waited for him to nod, still clutching at your clothes with all the remaining energy he had. “He's strong, he’ll be alright.”

Though at this point you were unsure whether your words held any weight against the grand scheme of things; hopefully all your promises won’t turn into bold-faced lies.

You made your way out of the cell together, holding his left hand as he used the other to rub at his eyes, itchy and dry from all the crying. The two of you walked past a couple of cells before he stopped for what seemed like a millisecond, mumbling something under his breath in weak anguish. Had you not been hyper aware of everything going on around you, you wouldn’t have noticed the slight tug at your hand.

Kazutora sat on the floor the same way Keisuke did, knees pulled up to his chest, biting his cuticles raw to stop his brain from looping the traumatic set of events like a broken film; still, it wasn't enough to stop his whole body from trembling in shock. The distress fresh in his eyes made you want to drop everything just to hold him close, comfort him like you did with Keisuke. 

But you didn’t have much time, the officer behind you pressured the both of you to move, and considering Keisuke remained under police custody, you weren’t willing to risk him getting locked up again now that you had him by your side.

“Wait for me over there, okay?” You said, pointing at the waiting area. “I just have to fill out some paperwork and then we can go home.” He held your hand even tighter in his grasp in response, as if he was scared to let go. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

Reluctantly, he dragged his feet as he walked, not wanting to stray far away from you. At least there was still some sort of stubbornness left in him. You’ve never seen him act like this, uncontrollably crying and apologising, devoid of the mischievous glint in his eyes. Knowing the Keisuke you knew was still there comforted you.

“How, uh, how much is bail gonna be?” You asked once he had made himself at home on the plastic chairs. Thankfully it was someone else behind the desk instead of the asshole you had the misery of interacting with. 

You knew it wasn’t going to be cheap, already having a grasp of fines and bail costs thanks to your friends getting into trouble, but even with this knowledge, their response sent a shiver down your spine.

Maybe you could use some of your own savings, or part of your college fund. Using your mom’s money was also an option, but you didn't want to put the burden on her. If you skipped a semester it could give you some time to earn the money back, but you were already behind in a few classes, and the minimum wage from part time jobs wouldn’t stack up too much, so was it truly feasible?

Fuck, you knew they were children but you couldn’t help but curse at their recklessness, their stupidity and naivety. Did they actually think stealing a bike would be that easy? And now you have to pay for the consequences, quite literally. Of course, you could always leave him here, let him face the consequences straight on. There was nothing forcing you to bail him out. But who were you kidding, you’d kill for him, of course you were going to pay.

Making sure he was still where you left him, you looked over your shoulder back at him. He was slumped over his knees, aimlessly playing with his fingers as his eyes fixated on the corridor leading to the cells, a solemn sadness washing over his features. 

No. 

You weren’t going to. You were going to pay for your brother’s sins, or whatever the cheesy line says, and leave to never look back. You didn’t owe this other kid anything, most certainly when you couldn't afford it. But, after knowing him for so long, the thought of him staying in the middle of four cold walls until further notice broke your heart.

“Actually,” you sighed. This was gonna cost two semesters instead of one. “Could I pay for someone else’s bail as well?”

At first, he refused to acknowledge your presence, biting harder into his fingers. He tried self-soothing through slow back and forth rocking motions and the unintelligible words that spilled from his mouth, hugging himself tighter the closer you got. 

He didn’t move, frozen in place as if the lack of movement would make him invincible to the naked eye. He didn’t cave in no matter what you did, not when you kneeled in front of him nor when you whispered his name in hopes he would acknowledge your voice.

It only took a couple of seconds after that for him to shyly meet your gaze, warming up to you in an instant and clinging onto you just like Keisuke had done, though he did so with a lot more desperation, this sort of comfort foreign to Kazutora. He felt so small in your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder, the only thing he could do was claw at your body for reassurance. Other than that, he didn’t speak, didn’t cry, he almost didn’t move, to the point it had you questioning whether he was actually breathing. 

Once you coaxed him out of the cell and got a hold of your brother, your sole focus was on guiding the boys beside you out of the precinct as fast as possible, one hand holding Keisuke’s while the other rested on the back of Kazutora’s head. They didn’t need to spend more time than necessary in this place, surrounded by grimy cell blocks and seemingly socially inept officers who couldn’t keep their rambunctious laughter down.

Wakasa was sitting on his bike outside the police station waiting for the three of you, and though initially it was supposed to be just the two of you riding along with him, he wasn’t surprised you paid for your brother’s friend’s bail. He kept a fairly laid-back exterior, lit cigarette hanging from his fingers replacing his preferred strawberry flavored lollipops, inhaling back the smoke that seeped from his parted lips and freaking out on the inside.

The two of you were hanging out when multiple calls blasted through your phone, prompting you to rush to where you were now. First it was one from the hospital, one of the bearers of bad news that didn’t let you dwell on the fact that Shinichiro had written you down as one of his emergency contacts. Then came the call from the police station, sinking your heart down to the bottomless pit in your stomach.

“Everything alright?” He asked, putting out his cigarette, smothering the stick with his boot along with the other three he had finished while you were inside. 

You hummed in response, words dying in your throat. The silence around you itched and burned, made your skin prickle with discomfort, and even so, no one dared say anything besides the occasional noise of acknowledgement. They weren’t dumb. They were one-hundred percent aware of what they were doing, and this wasn’t something you could blame on their age either. Yes, they were kids, but a twelve year old should be able to discern right from wrong; aware that stealing is bad and that murdering people is wrong.

And deep down, you knew this was even more fucked up than it appeared to be. You knew Kazutora wouldn’t have cared for the victim had it not been Shinichiro. The only reason he was shaking like a leaf, flinching when Wakasa fastened the belt of his helmet against his head, was because he hurt Mikey’s brother. That’s not to say Keisuke was innocent, it was clear he wasn’t. Intentionally breaking into someone’s shop to steal a very valuable, very expensive, piece of equipment and potentially complicit in someone's murder. 

You wanted to tear your eyes off at the thought. Did they really think they could get away with this? That it would be as easy as stealing some candy or gum from the corner store? You wanted to curse them out for being so stupid, so naive. But looking down at their sunken faces, eyes bloodshot and teary as they sweated fear from every pore on their fragile skin, it made you want to excuse all their horrid behaviour, ignore the fact they committed a crime and in the process they mortally wounded an innocent man. 

You held down an involuntary gag at the violation of your principals, the memory of what had just gone down stirring unwanted bitterness inside your stomach. You were no one to criticise the two kids sitting between Wakasa and you. They could be stupid, but you were the weakest of them all.

“Let’s get going then.”

You could question your moral compass later, first you had to get them home.

The voices of the characters talking in the background faded into an uncomfortable white noise as your muscles dissolved along with your bones, breaking through your skin and seeping into the cushions of the couch. Each time you breathed in the more stressed you became at the uncertainty of your friend’s mortal status. 

You hadn’t received any news from the hospital, and though you knew that if they hadn’t called by now, they probably wouldn’t at least until tomorrow morning, that didn’t stop you from imprisoning your phone close to your chest. Maybe if you channelled all your strength into your hold then you’d lose the urge to cry.

In spite of their initial resistance, it didn’t take long to put the kids to bed. The two of them drifted off to a bitter, yet hopefully replenishing, sleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. It wasn’t surprising, the whole incident had drained the both of them to their core.

“‘Sure you’re okay?” Wakasa asked, and had it not been for his voice you're sure you would’ve dissociated the rest of the night. Maybe the kids would find you the next morning still sitting on the couch, frozen like a statue as you stared at the ceiling, and freak out because they’d think you had died along with ‘Shinichiro-nii’. 

You hummed, it was the only response you could muster it seemed, with your eyes zeroing in on his shoulders, then his cheeks and then his earrings. Looking straight into his eyes would do you no good. It’d blow your cover in less than an instant, and though it’s fair to say it was a shit cover, amplifying your grief through your dejected silence instead of toning it down, it made you feel safer from the imminent doom. Still, shitty cover up or not, Wakasa knew you weren’t okay. You wouldn’t be able to fool him even if he was stupid, and at this point, he’s convinced you wouldn’t be able to fool anyone; a single glance your way was enough to tell you were silently crumbling. 

He let his head fall backwards against the back of the sofa, sighing in acknowledgement. No matter how many times he asked, deep down he knew you would only cave in at your own account, But at least his question somehow managed to bring you back down from the maze your brain had started fabricating to earth. And maybe, just maybe, if he gave you enough space that’d prompt you to speak. He didn’t mind waiting. Not for a couple of seconds, or the couple of minutes those seconds turned into, or the couple of hours they mutated into next, and so on until days and weeks and years had passed, until the scarcity of time felt infinite.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” You broke the silence, biting the edges of your words as if you wanted to hide them back inside, voice shaky and heavy against your tongue. 

He hesitated, sharing a seat next to you inside the same sinking uncertainty boat, “Shin-chan’s stronger than you think.” He tried reassuring you, or himself he wasn't sure, but at this point the more he tried to tell himself his friend was still breathing, the more it felt like a lie. Shin-chan was stronger than the two of you thought, but was he really? “He’d be heartbroken to know you had little faith in him.”

At least he got you to chuckle, “I’d be heartbroken to know that I was right.”

You fell into an uncomfortable silence not long after, the stakes of the conversation too high, and if you continued talking you’re sure you’d end up giving Shin up for dead. But like this, maybe you could finally force yourself to get some sleep. The weight of your eyelids had doubled, eyes growing heavier against your will, and though you didn’t want to, just in case something happened while you were unconscious, you knew you’d be of no use without at least a few hours of rest. Plus, you promised yourself you’d never lose any sleep over a guy, ever, and you weren’t about to make an exception for Shinichiro Sano.

Not even an hour in your slumber, you almost threw your phone to the other side of the room as its desperate cry pierced your ears. You’re sure Wakasa almost had a heart attack with how fast straightened up next to you, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if it somehow managed to wake up both Kazutora and Keisuke, although your brother was more of a chronic heavy sleeper.

“What are you waiting for? Answer it!” Feelings heightened in his barely awake, panicked state, the desperation was palpable in his words. And though uncommon for him to act in such an erratic manner, he had bottled everything up the whole night, it was time for the stoic facade to break. 

But, even so, in spite of your friend’s heartbreaking desperation you didn’t move. Not after the third ring or the fourth. You didn’t dare move, staying frozen on the couch, groggy from waking up yet hyper-aware of everything going on around you despite your mild dissociation. The sole thought of moving towards made your brain press against your skull, screaming at you to stop. 

Not answering meant that Shinichiro could stay both simultaneously alive and dead, his fate linked to whether you picked up the call. If you didn’t, maybe he wouldn’t die after all, he’d stay stuck in the unknown limbo of immortality until you made a call. 

But then again, this was your only chance to get an update on his status. And it wasn’t only you anxiously waiting on any sort of news. Wakasa was waiting; Keisuke and Kazutora, although asleep, were as well, and you could only fathom Benkei and Takeomi’s reaction. Mikey and Emma were probably up to date, the hospital must’ve called their grandfather before they reached out to you. And looking back at the people that depended on you, it really wasn't fair to put your own self-indulgent selfishness over the needs of others, was it?

It wasn't. Of course it wasn’t, but after putting everyone before you for as long as you’ve lived, didn’t you deserve to be selfish? At least once, when it pertainted the condition of the unrequited love of your life, didn’t you deserve at least that much?

“Hello?” Wakasa answered through furrowed brows and twitching lips. From the way he spoke, you could tell he was biting on the inside of his cheek to release some tension, putting enough pressure to draw blood. “This is Wakasa Imaushi speaking,

“–can’t get to the phone right now, can’t you just talk to me?” Voice getting progressively louder, he challenged the person on the other side of the call. “He’s my best friend, don’t I deserve to know whether he’s alive or not?!”

Only when his voice broke at the weight of his own desperation did you manage to snap out of your trance, snatching the phone out of his grip, ignoring his glassy eyes as you spoke into the receiver, mumbling your name through a shakily put together voice.

You’re not sure whether you imagined it or not, almost choking on a withered sob, but you could feel the moment your teeth sunk into the skin of your hand, digging hard enough for blood to prickle to the surface, preventing any other noise from coming out. 

With your vision blurry and a tightness in your chest you could not describe, your body had gone completely numb, and yet your nerve endings were scorching under any semblance of atmospheric pressure, forcing you to feel everything, everywhere, all at once.

Had Wakasa not been there to catch you, you’d have collapsed on the ground, a pitiful wailing mess. Tears soaked through the fabric of both your clothes as you held each other close. For what felt like hours, the two of you stayed like that. Face buried against his neck and his against the top of your head, he rocked you back and forth in his arms until your tears stopped mixing themselves with your spit, sharp inhales tuning down into soft sniffles. And though his eyes burned with unshed sorrow, he kept on humming at your unintelligible mumbling.

“See? I told you he was stronger than we thought.” He whispered, though it sounded closer to a whimper, and nuzzled his cheek further against your hair. As if trying to ground himself, he gave you a tight squeeze, still in doubt whether he was trying to convince you or himself. 

Only after a while, once both of your breathing had evened out, did you raise your head up from its hideout, hesitant footsteps catching your attention.

“Nee-chan?” You heard a tiny voice coming from the hallway, a little insecure, as if he didn’t think he deserved a proper response. 

“I’m sorry ‘Tora, did we wake you?” You peeled Wakasa’s arms from your body, rubbing the haziness of your eyes away. He shook his head in response, carefully moving away from the shadows after acknowledging your lack of anger.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

His puffy eyes shimmered red under the soft moonlight coming through the living room window. He took meticulous steps in your direction, side-eyeing Wakasa and still wary of you, not knowing how you would react after his intrusion. Each one was lighter than the other, the wooden floors refused to creek underneath his weight, almost as if he had trained himself to become weightlessly invisible.

Slowly as to not startle him, you stretched your arms in his direction, beckoning him towards you and silently encouraging him to trust you. Even after drying out his tears once you tucked him in bed, holding his hand a little longer while Keisuke slept next to him, you’re sure that wasn’t enough to reassure him you wouldn’t blow up on him. For Kazutora, interacting with most people felt like trying to navigate an active minefield.

Hugging him close to your body, you pulled him on your lap and softly rocked him back and forth; the same way Wakasa had done with you. He nuzzled closer to you, letting himself relax against your touch once he registered you weren't a threat, basking in your warmth. 

The silence the three of you fell under was deafening, uncomfortable even, though you didn't intend for it to be. Kazutora had this question stuck in his throat, sitting heavy against his vocal cords while the bitter taste of bile stained his tongue.

“Is…” he trailed off, still doubting whether he deserved to be asking such a question. “Is Mikey’s brother going to be okay?”

He tensed up at the lack of immediate response. The lack of positive reassurance that he hadn’t completely messed up everyone's lives made the grip he had on your arm grow tighter in fear of you letting go. 

You didn’t. You weren’t planning to do so. Even if nausea piled up at the end of your oesophagus as the conflicting set of emotions brewing at the pit of your stomach, you were sure he needed you as much as you needed him to keep yourself grounded 

“He will.” You brushed your fingers through his hair, lips curled up into a smile once you felt him relax against you once again. “Right now he’s resting, we can visit him in a couple of days, if you’d like.” 

The silence amongst you became heavy once again, but inside Kazutora’s head the cacophony of your words bounced against the thick layers of bone and skin like worthless cries of distress. What he did was inconceivable, and in spite of that you still cared.

“I didn’t mean to,” barely a whisper, the words died out before they could be properly enunciated. They prickled and ached and stung at the walls of his throat. Something he couldn’t name but feel deeply inside his bones stopped himself from vomiting it all out. But mess after mess, like building blocks stacking one on top of the other, they piled up and pulled him down like a ball and chain made out of his own flesh and when he tried to pull at it to set himself free he could feel everything spilling out in a tangled cry. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, I’m sorry!” he cried, clutching onto your shirt and arms, anything he could get a hold of to ensure you wouldn’t leave him alone. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Holding him tightly and shushing his cries, you could do nothing more than let his tears wet at your shirt, mumble that it was okay even if it truly wasn’t; even if the two of you knew it was a lie. The weeping child in your arms did nothing but pull at your heartstring, conflicting feelings arising in your chest. In spite of the fondness you felt for the kid, the same fondness you felt for all of your little brother’s friends, you had unconsciously developed a grudge towards him, bitterness and resentment for hurting Shinichiro. 

His lashes rested against his skin, casting thin shadows under the sunlight streaming through the window. He had always looked peaceful when he was sleeping, chest rising and falling as if following a metronome’s tempo. You can remember taking long summer naps next to him and the rest of your friends, you always being the first one to wake up. Every summer the three of them arrived late to at least five Black Dragon’s meetings because they had slept in. Shinichiro had developed this antsy habit of arriving weirdly on time yet slightly late ever since then, he couldn’t tolerate the idea of letting down whoever was waiting for him; you wonder how he’d react if he knew the shop wouldn’t open today.

So peaceful yet fragile., never in your life would’ve you remotely imagined you’d be sitting next to your best friend’s hospital bed, eyes puffy and droopy while his head laid covered in bandages. The beeping of the monitor filling up the unnecessary silence that wouldn’t have otherwise been there had he been awake. 

Had he been awake, he would’ve talked to you non-stop, retelling everything that went down to the most insignificant detail, sprinkling hyperboles as much as he could just to appear a little cooler in front of you. But it's not like he had to try anyway, to appear cooler, that is, you already thought he was the coolest person in the whole wide world; though you’d go as far as saying he was the coolest person to ever exist. The sole idea made you smile, tears welling up in your eyes as you wondered if he’d blush once he found out how highly you thought of him. 

And of course, had he been awake, he would’ve been worried about everyone but him. He would’ve asked about Mikey and Emma, if they had slept over at the hospital or at home with his grandfather, who he would’ve proceeded to ask about. He would’ve bitten his tongue to prevent himself from even mentioning the economic implications of his stay, but you would’ve been able to read right through him.

Then, had he been awake, he would’ve asked about Keisuke and Kazutora. He would’ve be worried about them, berated you with a flurry of questions, emotions switching from anger to guilt in less than a millisecond; angry at your deplorable encounter with the police, guilty because he was the one that called, and maybe if he hadn’t, then Mikey’s friends wouldn't have gotten in trouble.

He would’ve asked about the shop, if anyone was there watching over it while he was resting in the hospital, deflating a little after finding out it wouldn’t open for the day. He would’ve asked about Wakasa and Benkei and Takeomi, ask if they were aware of what happened, if they had already started making fun of him after finding out a twelve year-old sent him straight to the ER; he would’ve sighed at your response, shaking his head because instead of making fun of him his friends were worried. 

Finally, he’d ask about you. And maybe you would’ve cried or laughed or screamed. Maybe tears would’ve pooled in your eyes, the fact your friend was breathing finally sinking in. Maybe you would’ve giggled at your past unjustified worries because he was here now and you never should’ve doubted him, not even for a second. Maybe you would’ve broken down, fatigue deep in your bones pulling you to the ground until you could do nothing but lay cold and empty and happy on the floor because you had not dared sleep but at least the existence of his consciousness remained.

But the only one speaking was the wind blowing through the curtains, kissing his forehead and messing up his hair just to give you the opportunity to put it back in place through the insecure brush of your fingers

Resting your forehead next to the palm of his hand, you sighed in defeat; maybe you should’ve let him rest alone. You had spent the whole morning next to him, ignoring any hunger cues alerting you it was time for breakfast or lunch or any sort of meal time that could fuel your body from complete exhaustion. Still, even if you wanted to fall asleep, it was like your subconscious wouldn’t let you. Every time you closed your eyes and felt yourself slip into a deep slumber, you were jolted awake to your own dismay. 

Not being able to rest had started to eat away at your own sanity. Only eight hours had passed, but every second felt like a thousand and at this point, you had become a walking contradiction; hungry but unable to eat, tired yet unable to fall asleep. Your body was failing you, unable to react to any sort of external or internal stimuli, and you’re sure wouldn't be able to cry no matter how much you wanted to do so.

But even then, apparently you could still scream.

The weight of his hand on top of your head caught you off guard. It almost made you fall from the chair and smack your head against the bed’s metal skeleton. Maybe if you got a concussion and slipped into a weird pseudo-coma after a harrowing God-knows-how-many-hours-long surgery he’d feel guilty enough to make up for the tachycardia that had your heart beating where your brain should be.

“Hi.” He smiled, words a little slurred as the remaining anaesthesia wore off.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Oh, I see ‘you missed me alright.”

And you did. Even though less than a day had passed since the accident, picturing a whole lifetime without him was enough to permanently alter your brain chemistry. But he was here now, he was back and he was safe and the toothy grin he sported reminded you of home.

“Don’t ‘cha know it’s rude to eat in front of someone who can only chew on ice chips?” He joked, flinching as the nurse adjusted his IV drip.

You were forced to leave the room after a flurry of hospital staff came running at your volatile reaction; Of course, you were quick to reassure that your friend had only woken up and that everything was fine, before leaving for the cafeteria; giving them some space to work on Shinichiro would be good. Plus, not that he was ‘okay’ and you weren’t worrying about his health every second of every minute of every hour, you could address the sudden pangs of hunger poking at your stomach. 

“I’ll buy you dinner once you get out.” You smiled, scooping some of the jell-o into your mouth through your innocent smile. But, again to your dismay, the mischievous glint in your eyes ratted you out. Shinichiro knew that ‘dinner’ meant the cheapest ramen you could find, maybe add an egg to spice it up, and ice cream you’d eat directly from the tub; a long lived tradition between the two of you. “I’ll even add chives this time.”

“Gee thanks,” he mocked, as if he’d rather do anything else than eat stale ramen with you. As long as he got the chance, he’d do anything. He’d probably lick the floor for you—not that he’d ever let you know, but if you asked he would, no questions asked. That’s what happens when you love someone. You’d be willing to do anything and everything for them even if it's irrational. “Can I choose the ice cream flavour at least?”

You hummed, focusing on scraping the plastic spoon against the plastic container in your hands to avoid his gaze. “Only this time though, so don’t get used to it.”

“Everything’s looking good so far, we’ll do another check up in a couple of hours.” 

Right, you were still in here. Talking like everything was seemingly normal made you forget that you were still in the hospital, watching over your post-op, bedridden friend. 

“Lay with me?” he asked, not before the both of you thanked the nurse who excused himself after gathering the remaining equipment. “Please?”

You shouldn’t, something inside your head made sure to let you know even if the urge to hold him close was overpowering. He had just barely woken up after a long emergency surgery, and you taking up space would be of no help for him to get the rest he needed. But the silent plea in the puppy dog eyes you had trained yourself so hard to resist, the subtle pout and the cute dopey-ness that had yet to wear off were far too tempting to resist. 

His little celebratory cheer made you inwardly squeal as you slowly moved to his side, watching him wince in pain while he slowly shuffled himself closer to the edge in a clumsy attempt to make some space for you.

The thumping of his heartbeat reverberated in his chest, the stress melting from out your bones. You couldn’t help but sigh in content once you laid your head on his chest. Now that you were wrapped in each other’s arms, it felt like you could finally rest.

“Tired?” He mumbled against your hair, breaking the silence that had settled in the room as you basked in each other’s presence. You hummed in response, nuzzling your cheek against his body and almost purring like a cat at his warmth. Letting your eyes close involuntarily, you couldn’t help but be lulled to a premature slumber. With how comfortable you looked, and because your obnoxious yawning was too contagious, he wanted to do nothing but follow in your footsteps. 

Instead, his eyes stayed wide open and stuck to the ceiling as if the off off-white paint that covered the concrete was the key to shutting down his brain long enough for sleep to take over. It didn’t matter that his blood had been infused with what felt like at least twenty hundred thousand milligrams of various pain-deafening substances that were sure to knock him out in a matter of seconds, falling asleep seemed to be an unattainable goal.

Whatever they had injected into his body increased his senses’ sensitivity, multiplying it times a hundred instead of dulling them down to nothing. And it didn’t stop at the uncomfortable overtly bright fluorescent lights or the suddenly deafening sound of unoiled wheels from hospital carts being rolled around. It was the way he could feel you barely resting your weight against his body, as if scared the least amount of pressure would make his heart stop. The way he was met with your now dull eyes, almost bloodshot but not quite, sunken with a thick coat of desperation, or fear, or some sort of premature grief, as soon as he woke up. Or how, in spite of only being gone for less than a day, it seemed like you had spent a lifetime unable to exist alongside everything you held dear.

Hyper aware of all those little details and more, it hit him without warning, and suddenly, he could feel the overwhelming urge to cry.

It prickled uncomfortably at his eyes, the skin around his charcoal orbs itching like it was on fire. His mouth felt cottony, smothering his airways and cutting his airflow while his tongue rested uncharacteristically heavy in his mouth with the weight of unsaid words. It broke all his bones at once, leaving him numb on the ground, still like a corpse, and unable to suppress the dooming feeling of his own life spilling from his pores, mixing with his blood until the air around him turned thick and metallic.

In the blink of an eye he had been one step closer to the grave, barely hanging onto a thread of consciousness as the view of his shop turned blurrier and blurrier, and now he was breathing. His lungs had finally regained consciousness and he could feel everything around him overwhelmingly loud and clear and close and real. 

Now awake, he could feel you laying on top of him, almost passed out due to the immeasurable amount of stress he had put you under. And maybe if it wasn’t for his reckless habit of parading around life with his guard lowered or for the lack of proper security measures at the shop—because who on earth would rob him? There’s no way he could be that unlucky. Impossible. Or maybe it was his inability to dodge, to hold his stance in a fight because even if he was strong, without proper technique he was rendered useless and, holy shit– he could’ve died.

He could’ve died and then Manjiro would’ve been forced to grow up way too soon because he would have to take care of Emma and grandpa—although knowing both his siblings, Emma was more likely to turn into the head of the house. And then his friends would’ve been left to grieve his death, make sad speeches about the best moments they had together and, fuck was Takeomi terrible at writing; his speech would just be a big mess of incoherent words stuck together. And what about the shop? Who was he leaving the shop to? And what about Inupi? Inupi was just a kid and he can’t just leave him all alone; he had promised to himself to take care of him the same way he took care of his siblings— fuck, Izana as well. Who was going to look after his brother? He was planning to introduce him to all of you guys soon. The two of you would’ve gotten along so well and,

And you. 

What about you?

You looked beyond heartbroken. Words couldn't begin to describe exactly what somberness mulled deep within that brain of yours. If this is how you reacted to the possibility of him dying, then how would’ve you reacted to him actually doing so?

A choked sob rips through his lips, the sound painful as it breaches its forceful containment.

“Shin–”

“I’m sorry.”

“What…” you trailed off. The strained cry had erased any speck of slumber. For a second you thought you had dreamt it, that your brain had finally gone off the rails and you were hearing imaginary voices. That was until you looked up at him, eyes welling up with unshed tears, body stiff as if to prevent them from falling. “What’re you sorry for?”

“I just remembered the beach trip we were planning for Manjiro’s birthday,” he sniffled, “and I think we’re gonna have to cancel.”

“That’s okay, we can reschedule—”

“Yeah but I– I know he was really excited for it, all his friends were.”

“We’ll talk to them, make sure they understand—”

“And you were excited about it too,” avoiding your eyes even after you had tried to coax him into meeting yours. He felt so far away, almost unreachable despite laying right next to you. “And I know how much you love the beach and I really wanted to go with you even if we were gonna have to chaperone six hyperactive children,

“And, and I know the guys were gonna come with and we had it all perfectly planned out with this huge dorayaki cake thing and now we’re gonna have to cancel because of me—”

“Wait,” you shush him as gently as possible, sitting up and holding his hand tightly between yours. “What do you mean ‘because of me’?”

Almost as if he had never started, your question managed to shut down his rambling like forcefully closing a water faucet. He had this estranged, far-off look darkening his face, eyes glassy, almost as if he were dissociating. It made your stomach churn with anxiety. Never in your many, many, years of friendship had you seen him lose himself like this.

“Because,” he paused, trying to swallow down the knot grappling at his throat, fighting off the urge to tear it off with his bare hands. “Because it's my fault we’re cancelling.”

“I– What’re you talking about?”

He groaned in desperation. Why was this so hard to explain? 

“I’m the one who’s bedridden.” Still dizzy after waking up and to the best of his ability, he tried sitting up, wincing in pain to then give up and lean into his forearms. “I’m the one with random needles poking through my skin, fresh off the ER because my skull was bashed into with one of my own tools and maybe, just maybe, if I had been more aware at the time, I could've avoided the hit.”

“Shin, this wasn’t your fault—”

“But it is! Can't you see?” 

“Shin–”

“D’you know what I did when I heard someone break the glass?” He looked at you expectantly, voice raised in frustration. “After I called the cops; do you?” You shook your head in response, knowing that any attempt to help him calm down would be futile. “I grabbed a wrench. 

“After the operator told me to hide and wait for help because I told them it sounded like more than one person was inside, I grabbed a stupid wrench and decided to face them,

“I decided to face them even if I'm well aware I wouldn’t be able to take two people at once.”

And though he seemed to be dead set on believing that somehow he managed to land himself in the hospital,  you wouldn’t allow him to give himself up to the restless thoughts, no matter how badly he wanted to indulge the bitter part of his brain that had gotten used to putting himself down. 

“Someone hit you from behind,” you tried, “you were ambushed, of course you wouldn't be able to take them on.”

His defeated sigh gave you some sort of uncomfortable comfort. Knowing it made you glad that he had finally given up was a conflicting feeling you wish to never re-examine or experience again.

You sat up, swallowing the foreign relief down, and scooted further up the bed’s backrest. Your elbow rested well above the pillow where he laid, and you couldn't help but use your leverage to gently brush your fingers through his hair, only relaxing once he visibly melted against your touch.

“You didn’t do this to yourself, this wasn’t your fault.” You whispered, fingertips soothing his worries as they ghosted the skin of his forehead. “You’re not responsible for every single thing that goes wrong, no matter how much you try to convince yourself you are.”

He can’t recall a single moment in his life in which he felt like he was relieved from his self-imposed duty—the duty of an older brother, primary caretaker, and practically a parent. Someone who must put everyone’s needs above his own well-being. He’s responsible for everything going on around him, the good, the bad, the neutral, the everything. It only made sense that the break in and the subsequent series of events were, in part, his responsibility. 

And he knew it was irrational thinking because how on earth would he have known what was going to happen? But he couldn’t help it, not when all the consequences of his actions reflected on the bigger picture; everyone relies on Shinichiro Sano, and it was his duty to fulfil. 

“And I promise you no one is disappointed in you. Not a single one of us.” You press your lips against the top of his head, smiling through your own teary eyes at the little hum he involuntarily let out. “We’re all so, so happy that you're awake and talking and I bet Manjiro would rather move his beach birthday party a hundred years from now than lose his brother six days before his birthday,

“The beach is not going anywhere, and neither are we, okay? We are not going anywhere.” 

And you knew it wasn’t not enough. Your words weren’t enough to shut up the swirling negativity spiral in his brain. But at least it was enough to calm him down, enough for him to fall asleep in spite of the dampness kissing his skin; he might have successfully managed to suppress the heart wrenching sobs, but he was not strong enough to hold back the tears that cascaded down his cheeks.

You follow through not long after, head lolling to the side in an uncomfortable position that would for sure leave your neck aching for days. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. There was no dreaming this time. No nightmares or worst case scenarios crafted deep within your subconscious. In spite of the gloomy circumstances, the two of you had fallen asleep. Finally, being in your arms was beyond comforting. Plus, indulging in the rest your body had craved for hours made it easier to regain consciousness once Manjiro decided to jump on the two of you in surprise, never minding the possibility of further injuring his brother by mistake.

Being on the receiving end of his lovable violence hurt more than you thought it would, one of his hands landing straight on your stomach and the other on Shinichiro’s chest, but you couldn’t blame the kid. Based on what Keisuke had confided in you last night, Manjiro had witnessed both his best friends’ arrest as well as his brother being pulled out unconscious on a stretcher out of the shop.

Beyond a muffled apology, he didn’t utter anything else, like his voice had given in. He clung onto Shinichiro’s body like his life depended on it. 

A swift knock on the door caught your attention, though Manjiro didn't even bother looking up, face tucked against his brother’s body, letting himself relax as his brother’s fingers threaded through his blond locks. 

Emma poked her head from behind the wall, hands holding onto the door frame for balance. From where you laid you could see how her eyes were almost as puffy as yours. They were rimmed with a bright red, the same shade that was splotched all over her cheeks and nose. Mansaku stood beside her, holding onto his hat.

You could physically feel the relief washing over Shinichiro the moment he saw his whole family entering the room. He laid lighter next to you, with a brighter smile decorating his lips. It was like his body had melted from hard concrete right into a puddle, your previous conversation seemingly forgotten as a twinkle of warmth returned to his pretty eyes.

Careful not to let Manjiro fall in the dent you were leaving as you stood up, you beckoned Emma over. She cuddled up to Shinichiro, clinging onto him while her soft sniffles filled the silent room, and you swore you had almost started tearing up again at the sight.

Mansaku placed a hand on your shoulder, making you flinch in surprise as he acknowledged your presence. Like a wordless thank you, he nodded at you before stepping closer towards the bed, letting his hand rest on Shinichiro’s, and gently squeezed as if making sure his grandson was truly there. 

In no way shape or form was it the perfect family meetup—a perfect one wouldn’t entail the eldest-grandson-slash-parental-figure stuck in a hospital bed. But by the way they huddled together, Shinichiro pinching Manjiro’s cheeks, the latter not even fighting him off like he usually would, and patting Emma’s head in reassurance, with Mansaku displaying the ghost of a smile as he stood next to his grandchildren, the four of them gave off the feeling of everything being okay.

The familiar warmth between them left you to watch the scene like an outsider in a third-person point of view. It made you feel like you were intruding, messily glued to one of those fancy family portraits. 

In spite of both your families spending the majority of their lives around one another, you weren’t a Sano. No matter how close Keisuke and Manjiro were, no matter how much Shinichiro and you acted like a married couple with at least five children, you were never going to be one. You knew this from the start, but even so, the knowledge didn’t stop the churning of a deeply seeded loneliness inside your stomach. 

You didn’t bother with your goodbyes. Even if you had promised Shinichiro you’d spend the rest of the day together—pretending to be bothered and reluctant when you sealed it with a ‘pinky promise’ to hide the fact you’d willingly play nurse whenever he needed it—something from within told you it was your time to leave, you weren’t that important after all.

The question swirled inside your skull, bitter as it scratched your bones, as you leaned against the walls outside the hospital. At first, you intended to camp out in a waiting room, maybe join them after you had finally calmed down, but instead your legs had taken you right outside, landing you in a secluded area between the building and the many trees surrounding it so you could confidently retrieve the crushed package from your back pocket without disturbing anyone

Your thumb burned as you attempted to roll the sparkwheel of your zippo lighter, the metal forming uncomfortable crevices against your skin. You had to hold back the urge to bite down on the cigarette you had clumsily stuck between your teeth instead of your lips, frustration welling up and threatening to burst from the seams that clumsily held you together. 

Waiting for the uncomfortable itch to burn at your throat, you traced the outline of the red koi fish at the corner of the lighter, eroded after thumbing at it like a nervous tick over the years. Every time you felt your eyes water you made sure to compulsively take another drag, as if the smoke could cloud your thoughts, mixing them up with the familiar nostalgia.

Anyone would think that after incinerating your taste buds with each stick you burn, you’d get used to the taste. Whoever said it gets easier the more you do it was a liar. They were as disgusting as ever, flavour the exact same as those you had tried when you were younger, fooling around with your friends. It first started when Shinichiro and Takeomi brought a couple of cigarettes they had stolen from his grandfather to one of your hang outs. It prompted the three of you to continuously choke and make fun of each other for doing so until there were only mustard coloured butts squished on the floor. 

Neither Takeomi nor you had really enjoyed the experience, but for some reason, Shinichiro was quick to grow fond of the taste. He made sure to carry around a twelve-pack wherever he went, lighting up cigarette after cigarette in strategic places so the smell wouldn’t stick to his hair or clothes. Not soon after, the rather unhealthy habit had extended to the remaining two of you, who couldn’t help but carry your own packs to satisfy your newly birthed cravings. 

Looking back, you’re sure younger-you did that to be a little more like Shinichiro, just like Takeomi, and for other even more childish reasons like appearing more mature and attractive in his eyes; you clearly remember him having a thing for older women for a while. Sure, the two of you were the same age but still, you felt like he didn’t see you like you wanted him to, and the only way for you to change that would be to gain some more common ground with him right? 

So yeah, just like Takeomi, you wanted to be more like Shinchiro, but unlike Takeomi—as far as you know—you had started buying cigarette packets mainly to share back and forth with your best friend in, what you would call, a weak attempt at flirting. 

At least the cringe memory managed to rip you out from the insecurity whirlpool you were being sucked into, making you groan while softly hitting your head against the concrete wall. Thank god Wakasa existed to berate you into stopping the unhealthily embarrassing habit. Back then you were just a kid, but were you being for real? Were you seriously intending to build your whole life around a man to the point you’d indulge in one of the most common and deadliest habits in the world for a slim chance at a high-school romance? Fuck, was younger-you so painfully stupid to even think–

“One of you is already in the hospital, we don't need you to auto-hospitalise.”

The old man’s voice made you jump, fumbling with the cigarette until it fell to the floor. You tried to hide the coughing fit to the best of your ability while frantically stomping on the lit stick laying on the ground. It didn’t matter that you were an adult, you were still terrified of getting caught smoking by the man.

“Would you mind sharing one with me?” He asked, ignoring the way your face morphed into a confused frown. With nimble fingers, you opened your cigarette pack once again, handing him your lighter when he was unable to fetch his from his pockets.

“You still smoke?” You questioned, adding a hasty ‘sir’ once you noticed how informal you had sounded. 

He chuckled in response, taking another puff. “I only stopped doing it in front of the children.”

This time it was your turn to chuckle, playing with the gravel underneath your feet to avoid looking at the man at your slip-up. Still, even with your gaze fixated on the ground you could tell he was looking at you in curiosity. 

“I didn’t mean to laugh it’s just,” clearing your throat, you stumbled with your words, debating in your head whether you should come up with one of your horrid cover ups or tell the truth. “You always smoked around us when we were little, like you didn’t care.”

You thought he would’ve left you alone after that, knowing you were purposely disrespectful towards him. It would’ve been better that way. Then you would’ve been left to wallow in your own self-pity in peace, with no one to stop you from finishing the seven remaining cigarettes. But he didn’t, taking you aback as he stayed rooted right by your side. 

Had you been anyone else, he would’ve called them out. To cover up his own embarrassment or to make up for the disrespect? Not even he could be sure. But he had seen you grow up next to his own grandchildren, sharing your love and caring nature with them along with your mild irascibility and your talent for keeping Shinichiro on a tight leash. He couldn’t help but grow fond of you, even if most of your one-on-one interactions had consisted of you running away from him before he managed to scold you. 

He had only stopped smoking once Manjiro was born, self-awareness finally sinking into his thick skull as he watched his two grandsons play together. No one had questioned him back then, letting him sit on the couch undisturbed while he read the morning paper. It was only after Sakurako had passed away, that he had started to notice the many areas he was lacking, watching both Shinichiro and you fill the gaps in each other’s broken homes while he alienated himself from the responsibility of taking care of his family. The two of you worked so in sync, he would be of no help—or at least that was what he had told himself.

“I wasn’t the best grandfather.”

“You think?”

“I know.” He smiled at your attitude; snappy as always, the only difference was the way you now recoiled in embarrassment at your slip ups. Using his fingers to get rid of the ash, he tapped on the back of the cigarette before taking another drag. “Thank you for taking care of them when I couldn’t.”

Not even a noise of acknowledgement, your vocal chords had closed themselves shut at the man’s sudden mild vulnerability. Out of all the things you expected him to ever say to you, a ‘thank you’ was never on the list. He was always sporting his characteristic cartoonish frown, speaking to everyone in a clipped tone with pointed words.

“You’re more important to us than you think.” He stepped on the cigarette butt. “That is one of the reasons why I can’t let you believe what happened to my grandson was in any way your fault.”

“‘Sorry?” You mumbled in confusion, his words pulling yet another frown onto your face; did you miss any pivotal points in the conversation? How had the conversation switched from his apparent familial issues to you? 

“I know you feel guilty for what happened, even if you weren’t involved.” He sighed, not bothering to look you in the eye before continuing his speech. “You’re not responsible for your brother’s doing.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed in mild amusement, as if that wasn’t something you’ve been trying to tell yourself; all Bajis share their fuckups. But then again, of course he wouldn’t understand. “Easier said than done.”

This time you didn’t try to make up for the way had snapped at him. And bless the man for being able to read the room, because he didn’t push the conversation further. Deep down he knew you needed the outlet; you may have already cried, but all your anger was still pent up inside of you. And after everything you had done for him and his family, it was the least he could do for you. 

“It doesn’t matter what we believe, we’re always responsible for everyone’s mess.” You scoff in dismay. “It’s like we were born for our families to have a provisional caretaker. 

“So thank you for trying to tell me I didn’t break into Shinchiro’s shop, I know I didn’t, but it's still my mess to fix.” The aftertaste of the words laid heavy in your mouth, trickling down your throat like bitter bile tearing through the tissue. You didn’t like how they sounded; they were too impersonal, too selfish. You took a deep breath, holding yourself upright in spite of the pang in your chest. “Not that i wouldn’t have taken care of Shin if someone else had been responsible for what happened, I lo– I– I care too much about him to just leave him be but its just—”

You cleared your throat, “If I had made sure I knew where Keisuke was going or, or if I had actually tried to listen to him when he told me he didn’t know what to give Manjiro for his birthday then maybe– just…” 

You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence without breaking down the walls of the dam you thought you had finally managed to piece back together. You didn’t want the responsibility of rebuilding them back up, you don’t think you’d be able to do it as quickly as you’d want to. But you weren’t venting your sorrows to the wind. Mansaku Sano was still standing next to you, hands locked behind his back as he waited for you to continue, and though he was well aware of the times in which he had to remain quiet, he also knew when it was time to speak up. 

“Then what?”

“Then,” you swallow, “then none of this would’ve happened, and he would’ve been okay.”

Your body itched for another cigarette, pawing at your skull for you to smother down the tears spouting from your eyes, even if the smoke would make your eyes teary once again. But with Mansaku Sano standing next to you, you didn’t dare touch a single one; it didn’t matter that you had just finished spilling your pent up emotions, you drew the line at smoking with Shinichiro’s grandfather. The thought sprouted a melancholic smile on your lips; Shinichiro would have a field day when he finds out what just went down.

The only thing left you had to ground yourself was the cold metal of your lighter, already starting to heat up at the warmth of your skin. You ran your thumb over it once again, the pattern already engraved in your mind. The habit had probably developed out of your need to be comforted by familiarity—of course the lighter was the right candidate, from its colour and texture, size and temperature, you had everything about it memorised like the back of your hand. 

“It’s a really nice lighter.” You hadn't realised you were playing with it until he spoke up; twirling it between your fingers over and over again, flipping it open and close, lighting it up before shutting the lid and extinguishing the flame. 

“Thanks,” you sniffled, and right after you finished speaking, your voice hoarse and tired, you regretted ever doing so. You felt like a child once again; like when your mom tried to comfort you after you had scraped your knee, or when a couple of older middle-schoolers had beaten your friends up. A child like when the day was finally over and you had to go back home from a play-date, or when your favourite toy had fallen inside the river while walking over a bridge. You regretted speaking the minute you had discovered your voice sounded as weak as you felt, and yet, at the mention of your beloved trinket, you felt the warm giddiness wash over your body forcing you to speak. And so, once again like a child, you did. “I got it at a summer festival, Shin got it for me.”

“I thought you said you wanted to come visit him.”

For a minute Keisuke didn’t speak. He looked straight at the ground, feet planted on the floors like roots had grown out of him as he held your hand.

Earlier this morning he had clung onto your waist while angry tears rolled down his cheeks. The moment he caught sight of you putting your shoes on the genkan he had broken into a run, letting his body smash against yours, and almost making you lose your balance. Both you and your mom had tried your hardest to calm him down for what felt like hours but to no avail. He persisted, begging for you to let him accompany you to the hospital. 

Outside of Shinichiro’s room, it was a whole other story. All of a sudden he had decided he didn’t want to see him eye to eye. His reaction made you internally groan in frustration. Had you listened to your own gut feeling telling you Keisuke wasn’t ready to come with you, it would’ve saved him the stress of making a choice for himself. Instead, you were too weak to his puppy dog eyes and wobbly pleas, and now his eyes had started to water as he tried to hold back his own hiccups. 

“I promise Shin-nii isn’t angry at you,” you cooed, kneeling down to the floor and looking up at him. When had he gotten this tall? When had he grown this much? Were your efforts enough to shape him into a decent person? “and if you truly don't feel comfortable we can go home, I promise I won’t get angry.”

He rubbed at his teary eyes with his free hand before nodding at you, trailing behind you as you stood up and knocked on the door.

“Hey!” you poked your head into the room with a smile, one that faltered as you tried to keep your mouth from falling open in awe once you noticed how the sunlight streaming from the window kissed every inch of Shinichiro’s skin as he quietly read the book you had given him as a joke. He looked up at you, pearly whites all up for display, and mumbled a soft mumbled a soft ‘hey’ right back at you; he looked so pretty he could be mistaken for an angel. “I brought Keisuke with me, ‘that okay?”

He hummed in response, marking the page he was reading before setting it aside. Even after the events that took place at the shop, you knew he wouldn’t mind your brother visiting—he had a soft spot for him after all. The verbal confirmation was more for Keisuke’s sake, who prompted by it, let go of your hand and walked into the room, a tinge of fear staining each step he took. 

Shinichiro grinned, gently waving his way. And though the both of you had always found some sense of comfort in the warmth of his smile, it took less than a second for Keisuke to burst into tears. Sobs wracked his body as he stood frozen in the middle of the room, frantically drying out his cheeks with his forearms in vain. Tears kept pouring from his caramel eyes down to his cheeks until they stained his striped shirt.

At the sight of his distress, Shinichiro tried standing up as quickly as possible, almost ripping off his tangled IV. Thankfully, you managed to stop him before he could; the moment your brother had started crying you were already by his side wrapping your arms around his fragile figure.

Much like you had done the past few days, you combed his hair with your fingers while shushing his cries. It had become almost like a habit, Keisuke running to you in the middle of the day, hugging you close while you dried his tears for him. You’d think he’d ran out of tears by now, but something you didn’t take into account was how similar the two of you were, always feeling everything too much, all at once.

“You’re okay,” you whispered into his hair, “you’re okay, and Shin-nii’s okay, see?” you asked him, holding his tear streaked cheeks and motioning his face to meet your gaze, waiting for his breathing to even out before you coaxed him into looking at Shinichiro. “We’ve got you, the two of us, we've got you.”

He smiled at him once again, though you could see a twinkle of sadness in his eyes, as extended one of his hands for him to take. Warily, he warmed up to the invitation, wiping the remaining tears from his face before dragging his feet to the edge of the bed, asking if he could sit with him in a very un-Keisuke nature; it was unusual for him to ask before acting on his impulses.

Shinichiro softened once he felt Keisuke nuzzling his cheek against his chest. He ran his fingers through his dark locks, and as he did so you couldn’t help but think how his hair kept getting longer and longer with each day; hopefully no one from the school office would call you letting you know it was time to chop it off once classes were back in session.

In between hushed whispers, they talked amongst each other for a while. At first, Baji kept giving one word responses, still insecure in spite of your reassurance, but it wasn’t long before he started to loosen up, giggling between sniffles at Shinichiro’s questions and mocking his ‘honorary-brother’ back with teary jabs.

It was a solid dynamic they had been able to build after years of trust and consistent interaction; your two favourite boys extending their love to each other like they were flesh and blood. In that way, the two of them were similar, fiercely loyal and willing to give themselves up for those they loved. You were grateful that Shinichiro was there for Keisuke as he grew up, unknowingly making up for everything you lacked.

The mumble of your name caught your attention, popping your nostalgia blown bubble. Keisuke and Shinichiro alike were beckoning you over, the latter extending his arm as the two of them scooted over and patted the free space next to him.

He held your hand like you were a princess stepping onto a carriage, gingerly helping you keep your balance as you toed-off your shoes. You let out a sigh once you plopped yourself on the bed, letting his arm curl around your shoulders while he kept your hands interlocked, rubbing the skin with his thumb. In spite of the giddiness warming your stomach, you forced yourself to roll your eyes in response when he teasingly asked if you were comfortable, pretending to be bothered by his apparent clinginess 

“‘Your sister made you try the jell-o cups already?” he asked Keisuke, the younger boy looking up at him through puffy eyes and wet lashes, and once he shook his head in response he whistled, turning towards you as if disappointed. “You haven’t made him try ‘em yet?” 

“‘Came straight to see you.” You brushed off, pretending you didn’t feel his body tense beside you and smiling to yourself in subtle victory when he gulped.

“You should’ve gone to the cafeteria first.” He scolded jokingly, clicking his tongue as if that would help him hide his blushing cheeks that hurt from his own shy affection. Soon after, he switched his attention to your brother, ruffling his hair before speaking, “Remember those jell-o cups you used to share with Manjiro and Haruchiyo? The ones they sold at the konbini?”

“Yeah, but they don't have ‘em anymore,” Keisuke pouted, brows furrowed in thought. His sharp canines poked at his bottom lip, tilting his head up at Shinichiro and grinning. “Mikey almost fought the cashier guy when we found out they stopped selling them!”

“Yeah, I remembered that.” He chuckled, recalling the time he had heard the employee complain about Manjiro’s sudden aggression on one of his morning milk runs. “But guess what?” he sat on his forearms, dragging out the silence to build anticipation. He waited for the two of you to raise your heads from his chest, sharing an evident impatience as you urged him to continue. He took a deep breath before grinning once again. “They still sell ‘em over here.”

“No way! Really?!” The boy stood up in less than a second, forcing you to grab onto the neck of his t-shirt to prevent him from falling flat on his ass while he cried in glee, tears seemingly forgotten. Those jell-o cups in particular had been a staple of everyone’s childhood; you had been eating those snacks for years and years. You can clearly remember the clear disappointment in his face when he told you they had been discontinued, his somberness rubbing off on you.

“Yeah!” Shinichiro exclaimed back, scooting closer to your brother and placing one of his hands on the bed railing behind your brother, aiding you in your task of preventing Keisuke from falling to the ground. The memory had suddenly made its wake into his consciousness after mulling over ways to comfort your brother and coming up empty handed, until he had suddenly turned to his bedside table where an empty plastic cup sat with a flimsy disposable spoon. “Manjiro and Emma got a bunch from the cafeteria to take home, you could do the same.”

You were almost taken aback by the speed he used to turn his face towards you, surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash before he asked you with as much excitement he could muster, “Can we?! Please, please!?”

His pleading words made his bronze eyes sparkle under the fluorescent lights and though you know you shouldn’t, you can’t find it in yourself to say no. You smiled and nodded without a shadow of a doubt that you’d do anything in your power to keep the toothy grin you missed on his lips.

“Does that mean I can go get one now?” He pleaded, tilting his head and yet again putting on display the best puppy-dog eyes he could muster. “Please? I haven't had one in years, I wanna know if they’re the same as I remember.”

“Knock yourself out.” Shinichiro said before you could respond, ruffling Keisuke’s hair before the latter jumped down, ignoring the fact you didn’t give him a proper response before running off to the cafeteria.

You sighed unimpressed, turning towards the man beside you and letting yourself slump against his figure. His chuckle only made you roll your eyes.

“What? Were you planning to say no to him?” 

He knew you too well for your own good.

“Shut up.” With a gentle push you force him back down on the bed, elbowing him lightly in the process and pressing your head back against his chest. You almost hum in satisfaction when he let himself fall back down without resistance, caving in under your touch. “I could’ve said no.”

“Yeah, right.” This time, he was the one rolling his eyes, mocking your mannerisms and chuckling when you smiled, hoping the apparent ‘nonchalance’ would mask his now increased heart rate, and the faster beating coming from the vital sign monitor.

“I could’ve!” You tried to sit up in retaliation, pretending to be annoyed, yet you didn’t resist when he pulled you back down. He held down his own giggling once he felt you cuddling up closer to his side, tracing random patterns on his dotted hospital gown and realising too late how close both your hands were. The proximity made you nervous; even if the two of you were practically laying one on top of the other, holding hands felt like a foreign act of intimacy. 

Subtly enough, you tried reaching out for the tip of his fingers, moving what seemed like less than a millimetre per minute. Soon enough, he took notice of your plan; hesitantly, he moved his own towards you, letting your fingertips rest against each other for a couple of seconds, like he was asking for your permission, before interlocking his fingers with yours.

“You really can’t stay away from me, can you?” he teased, gaze focused on your entwined hands through his lashes as he felt too shy to look anywhere near your face. It seemed that hiding the pink-ish blush staining his cheek had become his number one priority; you were so close, so everywhere, he wouldn’t want it any other way, even if the closest he’d get to you would be through friendly teasing, bordering the line of ‘definitely, a 100% and unmistakably platonic’ flirting. 

In your mind, you were desperately scavenging for any semblance of a comeback, preferably witty and with the same energy he was giving you.Instead, all you did was sigh.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You blamed the gusty confession on a moment of weakness, likely born out of your depleting energy mixed with the way his hand fit against yours like two perfectly carved puzzle pieces. You weren’t sure why you had said what you did, the way you did; voice softening as the longing you had suppressed your whole life coated every syllable that rolled down your tongue. 

He hummed in response, giddy and satisfied, before backtracking in confusion. The lack of sarcasm or annoyance lighthearted mockery caught the two of you off-guard, though it seemed to have a bigger impact on him as his body tensed up for a moment. If you were to look up at him, you’d probably see his head tilted to the side, with warm cheeks and the ghost of a frown clouding his features.

And that’s exactly why you don’t. 

Not like this; you wouldn't allow yourself to do so, wouldn’t even dare. Not when the stakes were this high, multiple worst outcomes served on a silver platter for you to choose because once you look up at him he would notice the way you see him, like he hung up each individual constellation up in the sky on his own and then all of it would be over for you.

For the both of you. 

“Do you, uh,” the slight shake in his voice made you gulp, like you had an inkling of a very possible question he could ask. Maybe this would finally be the end of your friendship which, to your own dismay, could be very easily broken by other things that weren’t death itself, “do you know if Keisuke has talked to Manjiro yet?”

You cleared your throat, holding back the sigh of relief, and shook your head. “I don’t think he knows how.”

“He’s scared?” 

“I think so,” you pondered, “they’ve been friends since forever, I think he’s scared of losing…him.”

Knowing that both you and your brother’s situation overlapped in so many ways felt weird; both Baji siblings were scared to lose their respective Sano brothers. It sounded funny, almost cute, like both Bajis and Sanos were meant to stick together generation after generation. You would’ve giggled at the thought, explain the parallels between the two relationships to Shinichiro and laugh at the silliness of it, yet the fear that had taken possession of your body the last couple of days lingered at the thought. 

Scared of losing him.

You almost choked on the words sitting heavy in your mouth, like you had confessed to a crime. Had you been alone, maybe they would’ve urged you to cry.

“Hey, ‘you okay?” You hadn’t realised that the worry had bled onto your face, dripping down your cheeks and coating your eyelashes with sorrow until he spoke up, tearing you away from your trance. But you couldn’t help it, the lingering torture you endured at the hands of your brain replaying past events, from the bailing your brother out of jail as he sobbed to having Wakasa answer the call for you, Kazutora crying in your arms and Shinichiro blaming himself for his own accident, the more you felt like losing yourself in his embrace, tightening your hold on his hand. “You left me there for a second I thought–”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, I’m–” you stuttered, “I don’t think I’m okay, I–”

Rejection after rejection, you’ve seen what felt like an infinite amount of his confessions go sideways, and yet he handled each and every one of them with grace. You’d attribute his resilience to the amount of first hand experience he’s had with it, and though at first it had taken a big toll on him. By now, rejection was nothing to him. He could make a fool of himself in front of anyone and he really wouldn’t care; he has told you so himself. 

But you were not Shinichiro, and you could never be him.

You were resentful and impulsive, oftentimes reacting way before you think. You were impatient and whiny, though you tried your best to suppress that particular trait to no avail. You were a selfish, self-destructive being that somehow managed to keep the insecure neediness brewing inside on the down low. 

And you could go on. You could go on because you were stubborn, volatile, melodramatic and a part of your brain really does think you were just setting yourself up for failure listing every single negative character trait that comes to mind. But it didn’t matter because that just further proves you're not Shinichiro Sano, that you were never going to be Shinichiro Sano because you were weak.

Too weak to answer the call, too weak not to try and escape uncomfortable situations, too weak to hold back the urge for a smoke, too weak to forgive Kazutora, too weak to confess your feelings for your best friend even after bawling your eyes out at the thought of a life without him.

Too weak, too weak, too weak. 

Being weak is all you’ve ever known. 

The thoughts poured and they wouldn’t stop, crashing against each other like the same bumper carts you rode along with Shinichiro at the funfair with your siblings. Back then, you were all smiles and laughter, and right now you wondered if the two of you would’ve held hands if it wasn’t for Emma sitting in the middle of you both.

And he was so warm next to you, not pressuring you to clarify whatever word-vomit you just spewed instead of a proper comeback. So sweet as he squeezed your hand to let you know he was there to help in whichever way he could to lull your worries to sleep. So kind as he took care of you when you should be the one taking care of him. Always so him.

You had no right to be a coward, at least not in front of one of the strongest and bravest people you’ve ever met. It wasn’t fair. Listing your flaws from the top of your head would never justify your body preventing itself from spilling the truth just so you could try and grasp at the fragile strings of self-pity to sew yourself back together as unspoken words necrotize your tongue. 

The same way you wouldn’t dare look at him, you wouldn’t dare stay away from him. It’d kill you just to try. So fuck every martyrish thought in your head, fuck the burned cigarette butts stained with indirect kisses, fuck the many nights the two of you spent stargazing in his garden, the infinite amount of chocolates you bought him for valentine’s day to make up for the emptiness of his locker; and the countless times he had dropped everything he was doing for the chance to spend just a couple of minutes with you. Fuck the worn out red koi fish engraved on your lighter and the possibility of breaking the promise you two made of never straying away from each other.

“I can’t stay away from you,” you took a deep breath, “I think I’d rather die than live a life without you,

“The sole idea of losing you almost sent me over the edge, and even after you were out of surgery I was a mess,” you stopped yourself again, giving yourself the chance to swallow down the knot in your throat; it didn’t work. “I was going insane without being able to talk your ear off because even when I talk about something you couldn’t give a shit about you still give a shit, you give so many shits when it comes to me, too many,

“You’re loyal and gentle and charming and you’re always smiling, and it's like, it's like you're absolutely everything good and even then you genuinely have no idea how wrapped around your finger I truly am, 

“And I don't think I’ve ever properly thanked you for existing because I don't think I’d be the same person I am right now if it wasn't for you, and even if I'm not perfect, I- I wouldn't trade myself for a better version if that meant you wouldn’t be in my life.

“So, yeah, I guess you’re right, I don’t think I can,” you let your shoulders sag, like the confession finally burned years upon years of cover-ups and excuses and fake scenarios you had come up with before bed stored in the darkest depth of your brain. “Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to stay away from you.”

Pensive, he melted further against the pillows, letting his muscles melt at the sound of his own sighing. Even if you weren’t directly looking at him, you hear his smile reverberating throughout his body, and the sole idea of him possibly reciprocating your feelings made you impossibly giddy; a little too giddy. It was easy, after all, to get your hopes up once you lose yourself in him, his warmth and comfort. And for less than a second, you can see your hypothetical future with him pass right in front of your eyes, forcing you to accept a premature victory. But as the silence between the two of you started to drag itself out, you couldn't help but reluctantly welcome the acrid heartbreak tearing through your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you tensed up, “I shouldn’t have–”

“No, no, it's–,” he blurted out tongue tied as if your words had snapped him out of a trance, mirroring the same giddiness you had displayed with the same hint of hesitancy, “no one has talked about me like that, I guess it just caught me off-guard.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I don’t– don’t think I'd be able to stay away from you either– not that I want to, of course it's just– sorry give me a minute.” Looking off to the side, he tried to collect himself, clearing his throat and pinching his cheeks, the skin already stained with all sorts of shades of pink. For him, it was inevitable not to become all shy and flustered, the least he could do was bite his tongue so as not to break into a fit of giggles, prevent himself from swinging his legs and twirling his short strands of hair like a lovesick middle schooler. All because of you. “Just, um, just to be clear before I look like an absolute fool, not that I don't look like an absolute fool on a daily basis, but this is a confession, right?” 

You raised your head up in confusion, tilting your head and furrowing your brows. Had you not been so baffled by his self-explanatory question you would’ve fawned over this version of him, giddy and soft and in love with you because just by looking at his eyes you could tell he was looking at you like you hung the moon up in the sky—it was easy to decipher; after staring at him the exact same way countless times, you were bound to familiarise yourself with such display of devotion. And had he not looked this adorable, you would’ve teased him for being so painfully and hopelessly dense, but you didn’t have it in you to do so, only managing to nod in response.

“So you like like me?” He continued, waiting for your reassurance, either a nod or a smile, or any signal that he was right. “So you are in love with me?”

“I mean, I wouldn't say I'm in love but if that's what makes you sleep at night.” The more you stared at his face, the dimples on his cheeks, the creasing of his eyes at your words and the giggle he couldn’t help but contain, the wider the smile creeping at his lips became.

“Will you say it then?” He prodded, moving closer to you, now unable to hide the twinge of pink that grew what seemed like a thousand shades per second.

“I don’t know,” your legs innocently dangled from the side of the bed, trying to win back control of the situation by cutting down on your proximity, and sitting up properly from your half-lying position, “will I?”

“Please?” he begged, cupping one of your cheeks with the palm of his hand and pulling you closer until you could feel each other's breaths. His skin was warm against yours, the roughness of his palm from working non-stop at the shop offset by the tenderness he carried around for you. 

And though you wanted to drag this on, enjoying the back and forth, you were so whipped for this man that you couldn’t stop your nonchalant act from crumbling as soon as you heard him once again let out a shy giggle after he nudged your nose with his.

“I love you.” 

Voice dreamy and saccharine sweet, like confessing to your lifelong desire, you whispered, and just before your lips touched, through lidded eyes and uneven breath he whispered back ‘and I love you’. 

After his own confession, you were unable to pay attention to anything that wasn’t him. All your senses were muted as his soft lips gilded against yours. The taste of the honey chapstick you applied almost compulsively melted against his tongue, and he wondered if like him, you could still faintly taste the strawberry chapstick you had gifted him a while ago; the same one he hadn’t stopped using since, going as far as asking the hospital staff to retrieve it from the pockets of the jeans he was wearing the day of the accident for him.

He bit back a whimper when he felt you bite down gently on his bottom lip, unable to ignore the way you smirk against the kiss once your hand makes its way up to the side of his neck to rest on his pulse point, in the perfect position to feel his heart doing somersaults underneath your touch. It made him want to melt right against you; the more you wandered down his body, the bigger the urge to hold you grew.

His calloused yet delicate fingers traced your skin, running from the apples of your cheeks down to your chin, coaxing you to fully give into him as he traced the tip of his tongue against your lips. He could feel himself grow hard once you gave him permission to enter, basking on the hidden whine you let out at the feeling of the warm muscle enveloping your whole body, drool pooling at the corner of both your lips.

Away from your face, he trails his hands slowly down your torso confidently ghosting the skin before the facade is broken the moment he almost freezes up once he gets to your chest. The blush on his cheeks deepened as you took notice of his apparent nervousness, laughing it off before he continued his path down to your hips, 

He was sure he was ready to die right here in your arms the moment you softly suck on his tongue, his eyes almost rolling towards the back of his skull as you hands grazed his clothed dick. The teasing touch made him groan, the vibrations against your lips feeding the urge to get closer to him. And almost like he had read your mind, you shivered at the tight grip of his hips guiding you over lap until you were resting flush against him.

“‘Want you so bad.” He panted in between giggles, nudging your noses together and pecking your lips over and over again. You barely managed to catch your breath between his kisses; when he leaned away you pulled him in, and when you did so he tried to follow the path of your lips until they were once again interlocked with his. The two of you ignored the satisfying burn of your lungs like the feeling of your bodies close against each other was good enough of a replacement for oxygen itself. “–Waited so long for this.”

He pulled you down a little harder against him, bucking his hips against your. Mewling into the kiss, you wrapped both your arms around his shoulders, perhaps taking too much enjoyment in the minimal friction against your core. The sensation of him rutting desperately against you forced you to meet his attempts for more with an equal amount of want.

“You feel so good.” you cooed, whimpering as he sucked at the skin behind your ear. “Shin, Fuck, you’re so good at this.”

Before he could stop himself, he was groaning at the praise, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck and refusing to come back up to meet your lips to hide the raging blush tinting his skin, spreading from his cheeks up to his ears.

“You like that? Like it when I say you're doing a good job?”

He hummed, though it sounded more like a whimper, and waited no time to pull your face back against his, connecting your lips again in a messy kiss, to, presumably, stop you from teasing him. He took the opportunity to indulge himself, once again tracing the outline of your lower lip with his tongue and nipping at the supple skin in retaliation.

In spite of your own reluctance, you broke the kiss first, finding the way he tried to chase your lips with his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, indescribably cute. You took a minute to fully take in this version of him, his breath uneven and with a thin sheen of sweat making some of his black locks stick to his forehead. His lips were puffy, glistening with saliva as they part involuntarily in an enrapturing appetite. 

He looked so pretty like this, you didn’t think you’d have it in you to control yourself. 

Once you had lowered the sheets covering his legs, one of your thumbs proceeded to draw circular patterns on his exposed thigh, chuckling at the way he flinched before relaxing against you. Gently ghosting your fingernails over his skin, you hiked up his hospital gown until you had full access to the band of his boxers, toying with the elastic but doing nothing aside from that.

“You want to do this here?” He pulled back, eyes wide and dazed with need yet frazzled at your sudden boldness, as if nearly dry humping in a hospital wasn’t bold enough. His hands played with the hem of your shirt, sending shivers down your spine every time his fingers grazed your skin. He looked like a deer caught in headlines, a way cuter version of Bambi, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle your nose against his cheek before kissing him gently, once, twice, thrice.

“Only if you want to.” 

“I do,” he swallowed, clearing his throat to keep himself lucid as he felt the tips of your fingers breaching the hem of his underwear, cold against the warmth of the covered skin. “Fuck, I really do, I need you s’bad I–”

“You fucking disgust me.” 

Like a pair of surprised kittens, the sudden interruption had the two of you jumping away from each other, almost falling off the bed while desperately trying to pull the sheets back into place. In turn Shinichiro tried helping you regain your balance, grabbing your arm before you crashed against the floor, nearly pulling down one of the hospital monitors in the process. 

“Don't you know how to knock?” You bit back, taking his comment more personally that you should’ve. 

“Didn’t think it’d be necessary.” Wakasa crossed his arms in front of his chest, shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side of his cheek to the other. Standing beside, Benkei held a teddy bear and a lavender flower arrangement, mixed along with baby’s breaths and eucalyptus. If anyone had to guess, the bewildered expression he sported only meant he’d rather have his friend die than see whatever blasphemous activities you were performing. But then again, he probably expected to see his friend bedridden and weak instead of the free front row tickets to your ‘dry humping a post-concussed Shinichiro’ expectale. “‘Thought the worst thing we’d come across was him sleeping.”

“Why did you think coming across me sleeping d’be the worst case scenario!?” Shinichiro butted in lightheartedly, though you wouldn’t rule out the possibility of him actually being serious. “Are you saying I look ugly when I sleep?”

“No, you dumbass,” Wakasa deadpanned; even with his usual unbothered facade you could tell he was grateful for the ordinary banter, questioning his stupidity with a hidden smile. “How’re we gonna talk to you if you’re asleep.”

“Wait, what happened? I didn't see,” Takeomi joined in, panting as he held a couple of balloons that had ‘it's a boy!’ written all over them. “These two assholes left me while I was getting something to eat.”

The two of you groaned at the sound of his voice, pressing the heels of your hands against while Shinichiro hid his eyes behind his forearm. Even if you wanted to be lowkey about the whole situation, sweep it under the rug to avoid facing the embarrassment over again, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide it from anyone, not even Takeomi, and he wasn’t the brightest. 

Shinichiro’s hair was a tousled mess and his skin was dusted pink. Both of your lips were puffy, glistening under the fluorescent lights, and your breathing was uneven still. No matter how much the two of you tried to regulate it back to normal, it seemed to follow the rapid rhythm of each other’s heart beat.

“Nothing happened.” You grumbled, willing to attempt a lousy cover up in spite of your friend’s, including Shinichiro, giggling. Once he found out, it would be impossible for him to let it go. But even so, it took a lot of effort not to join in your friends’ laughter; it was funny to fuck with him—not literally—his puzzled frown as he borderline begged for someone to let him only feeding in your teasing. Still, once he found out. “We were just talking.”

“Yeah, talking about fuck–”

“Wakasa!” “Dude!” 

The two of you exclaimed as the blond tilted his head to the side, making his earring jingle. A teasing smile stretched on his lips as the four of you waited for Takeomi to process what was just mentioned. Knowing the speed in which the neurons within his brain transported information, it’d take a little while.

To everyone’s surprise, it only took him a couple of seconds to do so. You could visibly see it in his expression, morphing into one of amazement the minute realisation hit him straight in the face

“Did’ya– No way, you finally fucked?” And though his lack of decorum made the two men beside him laugh louder and the two of you groan as if to muffle his voice, he paid your reaction no mind other than using it as an affirmative response to his question. “No way, congrats dude! Who would’ve thought you needed to almost die just to lose your virginity.”

“I hate you so much.” Shinichiro playfully complained, a stupid grin threatening to make its way onto his lips disproving his claim. Seeing his four best friends standing around him right after waking up from what could’ve been a tragic accident made him feel all sorts of things he found himself unable to explain. It almost made him want to cry once again—happy tears this time.

“Anyway, now that you’ve got someone to stay with,” you changed the topic, interrupting yourself to fix the stray hairs sitting on top of Shinichiro’s head before caressing his cheek with your thumb, “I’ll go check whatever Keisuke’s doing, I‘ll be back in a sec.”

“Wait no, don’t go…” You had to resist the urge to give him another quick peck at the way he dragged out the ‘go’, and instead, grabbed your phone from his bedside table to respond to the missed messages coming from your mom. “Don’t leave me with these people.”

“Very funny Shitty-chiro.” Takeomi fake laughed, letting himself fall on one of the chairs nearby, stretching his arms before fully slumping against the backrest and looking at you. “But’s fine, I left Haruchiyo in charge, Senju’s with them as well.”

“Well that doesn't make things any better, does it.” At your snapping voice, he raised his hands up in surrender, as if the idea of letting a 13 year-old in charge of two 12 year-olds didn't have multiple flaws. Doing a 180° turn, you turned towards Shinichiro, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

“Wait, before you go,” Wakasa interrupted, stopping you from slinging your bag over your shoulder. He took the bright red candy out of his mouth with a pop, using it as a little wand to emphasise his speech, before he continued. “Who confessed first?”

“Yeah!” Takeomi sat at the end of his seat, gaze switching from Shinichiro to you and vice versa. “How did Shinichiro confess to ya’?”

Again, faster than the usual processing speed of his cognitive skills, he managed to string the hints together, gasping at the silence that settled between the two of you as you tried to silently decide who should say what. Shinichiro opened his mouth like a fish, as if trying to come up with something to appease his friend’s reaction before giving up and averting his eyes, pointing at you with his thumb.

Wakasa’s smirk only grew the more Takeomi seemed to sink back into the chair in dejection. “‘gotta pay up Omi-omi.”

The ruffling of bills and the complaints birthed out of the apparent loser’s mouth distracted you momentarily. You were about to laugh at the scene in front of you, two of them waiting with their hands stretched out as Takeomi reluctantly placed the wrong amount in his palm, grunting when Wakasa noticed it wasn’t the amount they had agreed on, before it clicked in your head.

“Pay up,” you mumbled to yourself, “Pay up, pay up? Wait, did you three bet on us?”

“Kinda,” Benkei sent you a reassuring smile, counting the hundred yen bills that were handed to him once again; when it came to money matters, Takeomi wasn’t someone you could trust. “We bet on who’d confess first.”

“And you didn’t bet on me?!” Shinchiro exclaimed, a little louder than he intended.

“Sorry man, ‘didn't have faith in you,” Wakasa folded the five crinkled bills in half before stashing them in his back pocket. “After your failed attempt I kinda accepted you weren’t going to win, Benkei was always betting against you, though.”

“But ‘ya admit it!” Takeomi jumped from his seat, waving his now empty wallet in the air like he was fencing with the worn out leather rectangle. “He did confess first!”

“Hell no, it only counts if it was a successful confession.”

“So the bet wouldn’t count if one of them got rejected? What's the point then!”

Wakasa groaned, pressing his temples with his thumb and middle finger, “It only counts if the two of them understand whatever was done was a confession.”

“But the lighter was him confessing!”

“Takeomi, that was the vaguest confession to ever be seen by the entirety of mankind.”

“What confession are you talking about…?” You interrupted the animated discourse with a question. In spite of enjoying the banter between your friends, you remained in the dark. Shinichiro had never confessed to you, or even remotely tried to do so. You were a hundred percent certain, after all, had he done so you were sure you’d be dating by now. 

“The lighter you always carry around,” Takeomi responded, “the fish one.”

Instinctively, you patted the pocket where your zippo lighter sat, carefully trailing your thumb lightly over the red imprints as you pulled it out. It looked almost exactly the same way as it did during the summer festival. The only difference, aside from the way the metal reflected the cold hospital lights instead of fireworks and paper lanterns, were the couple of dents on the metal and the previously well-defined engraving softening over the years.

“S‘not just a fish,” Shinichiro chuckled, letting himself fall back on the bed while hiding his flustered state behind a seemingly lame explanation. At this rate, he was sure his skin could be permanently stained a pinkish-red. “It's a red koi fish.”

“Wait,” you snapped your head from the lighter to him, letting your mouth fall open in surprise, “you, you meant that?”

“What do you…mean?” Shinichiro poked, voice twisting and forcing the ‘mean’ to come out strained. Watching your shoulders tense up and, somehow, simultaneously relaxed made him wary of the whole situation, like the universe itself was playing a prank on him. And though unlikely, he wasn't ruling out the possibility of random cameras popping up from behind the door or through the window or maybe from underneath his bed with a huge poster reading ‘you’ve been pranked!’.

He had given you that lighter seven years ago, the engravings were probably faded by now, there was no way…

“Red koi fish mean romantic love, don’t they?” 

It took him a couple of seconds to properly run your words through his brain, before his eyes widened in amusement mixed with the mild disappointment his seventeen year-old-self had forced himself to ignore after his confession had gone wrong. “You knew!?” 

“Uh…yeah? We learned that in literature class.” You shrugged with a sheepish smile in an attempt to tame down the laughter that had started bubbling in your throat at his mortified reaction. He groaned at your response, throwing one of his arms over his eyes, the sound mixing with a cry as the movement pulled on the IV digging into his arm.

He licked his lips a couple of times and rubbed the skin above the needle in an attempt to soothe the ache. Stalling, he was trying to buy time before he asked anything that could potentially hurt him. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Aside from flustered and pouty, slightly amused at his own failed attempt, he appeared to be a little sullen, perhaps even sad. It was obvious to you, though you didn’t know why; maybe he was blaming himself for losing the opportunity to get in a relationship with you way earlier. Or, maybe he blamed himself for putting any sort of pressure on you; back then, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure how you felt about him, so maybe you had purposely ignored his advances because you didn't want him. But that couldn’t be it, could it? Less than a couple of minutes ago the two of you were confessing your love for each other, so if that were to be the case, when did your feelings for him start to change? “Did, uh, did you not like me back then?”

Looking at his hopeful yet gloomy expectant features, he appeared so small and vulnerable in front of you, you wanted to give him a hug. The question had visibly caught you off-guard, your brows furrowing as soon as he was done talking. Who would’ve thought that a seemingly innocuous event from your past would come back transformed into an apparent irrational insecurity. It prompted yet another silence upon the two of you. And though it felt eternal, it lasted only a couple of milliseconds, interrupted by both your annoyance and Takeomi munching on the chips he bought at an inflated price on one of the hospital’s vending machines. 

“Do you mind?” You turned towards the obnoxious mistake you had chosen as a friend, snickering as he shrugged in questionable indifference, mumbling a muffled ‘go on’ before motioning you two to continue with a shake of his hand. But at the lack of positive feedback from anyone in the room he stopped himself to explain.

“What? It’s like watching a live romcom,” he shoved more chips into his mouth, “The ones we watch every friday, ‘ya know what I mean?”

“Okay,” Benkei clapped both his hands together, gathering everyone’s attention before he pulled Takeomi into a standing position and pushed both him and an amused Wakasa towards the door. “Seems like all of us are hungry, we’re heading to the cafeteria real quick, we’ll send Baji back up when we’re done, sounds good?”

“Sounds good, thanks, Benkei.” You smiled at him, watching the three of them leave and sighing in satisfaction when you saw the way the gentle-giant punched Takeomi’s arm once they were far enough for his complaints to appear silent. “But to answer your question,” you turned towards Shinichiro once again, sitting at the edge of the bed and resting your hand on top of his. You could see the way he visibly relaxed against your touch, the warmth of your skin coaxing his insecurities away little by little. “I did like you very much back then, too much for it to be considered healthy, I'm pretty sure…”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Well, I, you know,” you stumbled over your words, suddenly feeling the embarrassment for your younger self was all over you. Why didn’t you say anything? Well, in hindsight, you didn’t think Shinchiro had it in him to use a literary reference as a means of confession. Not because he was stupid, that was Takeomi's role, but because it was very un-Shinichiro. You had been witness to the countless failed confession attempts and nothing included anything as subtle and detailed as the lighter he had gifted you. Back then, he professed his brimming infatuation with an honest smile, the well-rehearsed question ‘would you go out with me?’ and absolutely nothing else. And though the ‘courting’ period included him acting all whipped and soft, he was usually very blunt when it came to asking people out, gentle but direct. 

Although, thinking about it a little bit more in depth, he had always been very romantic, sometimes cringy with the shitty pick up lines, but during movie nights he had always chosen movies with clear romantic subplots, and you can recall that one romance poetry book he kept borrowing from the library, unable to finish it before returning it—at least that’s what you thought, by the amount of times he had taken it home.

When you were both in middle school and high school, he would watch couples holding hands with a gentle smile, sometimes going as far as spacing out and letting a dreamy sigh fall from his lips—he always brushed off the person asking the reason behind his sighing, but you were paying attention to him more often than not, so of course you knew—and of course, you couldn’t forget the many times he had shared hypothetical scenarios with the four of you, most of them consisting of him fantasising out loud the sort of dates he’d like to have with his hypothetical s/o or what he would do for them before being relentlessly teased by all of you.

So, in retrospect, him trying to confess through a pretty much evident symbol extracted from one of your favourite books was a very un-Shinichiro, Shinichiro thing to do, if that made any sense. 

“I think…I might’ve gaslit myself into believing it was a coincidence, didn't wanna get my hopes up.”

“I thought, I– I thought it was pretty obvious that I liked you.” He chuckled, scooting to the side in order to make more space for you to lay, next to him, the same you had done most of the days you had spent here. “Everybody knew I did.”

“Wait, really? I thought you were being friendly!” You let out a laugh, watching him soften up even more at your obliviousness and simultaneously hold back laughter of his own. “Don’t laugh at me! You were flirtier with Wakasa than with me!”

“You can’t blame me!” He finally laughed along with you, interlocking your fingers together and pulling you close until you were squished next to him, and waited for you to get comfortable before continuing his spiel. “Waka’s my best friend, we’ve always been like that, and you know it.” He nuzzled his cheek against your head, muttering the words in the quietest way possible, like he didn’t want to be heard by anyone but you. “Plus I couldn't flirt with you, I'd blush and cry afterwards.”

“Yeah, I’d’ve cried if you flirted with me as well.”

“Hey!”

“I mean it in a good way! Happy tears or whatever.” You sighed with a giddy grin, caressing his cheeks with the back of your hand before smushing them together, forcing a pout and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I promise I’ll forever be in love with you.”

© 2023 SHINACHIRO ; Do not repost my work. Do not recommend my work outside of tumblr. Do not translate my work. affiliated with @tokyometronetwork

[torao-d-water-ya]

Trafalgar Law, the Don Quixote brothers, and why Doffy takes such personal offence to the existence of Lawlu (Part 1: Faith)

1. How can you trust Straw-hat so much?

Doflamingo kicks up a huge fuss about Law forming an alliance with Luffy from the get go, and continues to go on about it till literal moments before he gets put down by Luffy at the end of the arc. 

Up until this point we've seen Law act pretty casual about his relationship with Luffy – he saved him at Marinford on a whim, he's forming an alliance out of convenience, "this doesn't mean we’re friends". It isn't until we see Doflamingo's reaction to this development that we realize the importance it holds for Law's character, and stop to think about what it might represent, given the context of his past. To Doflamingo, who’s seen Law at his lowest – who’s seen the kid who’d stopped believing in anything, and wanted to destroy the world – Law’s faith in Luffy, who seems to stand in antithesis to all that Doflamingo stands for, is a huge fucking deal.  

Doflamingo already knows, of course, what changed his heart all those years ago. But he asks anyway, because Law showing up here with Luffy, even after all this time, feels like salt being rubbed in the wound; Doffy’s pride can’t take it. Law gives him the easy answer – the simple, surface level answer. He trusts Luffy because he believes in the will of D, because Cora-san believed in the will of D. 

But we all know there’s a lot more to it than that. 

2. Why did you choose him, Law?

13 years ago, Doflamingo lost Law, his chosen successor, to Rocinante. That’s what he’s seeing every time he’s faced with Law’s partnership with Luffy – that’s why he’s so hung up over it. Law being here with Luffy just serves as a reminder of him choosing Corazon, all those years ago. A reminder that even though it was Doflamingo who pulled the trigger to kill his own brother, in the end, Corazon won. They were both children of the same wretched circumstances, but where Doffy decided to destroy the world for what it had done to him, Cora chose instead to save it. Then along comes Law, another child ravaged by fate, and Doffy sees in him an exact mirror of his past. Sees a weapon, ripe for the taking  – one that might someday be used to destroy the world at his behest.

That is, until Corazon manages to save him, too.  And in trying to live up to the man Cora-san would want him to be, Law stumbles into becoming the sort of person who would stand side by side with the ‘fool’ that is Straw-hat Luffy.

3. Why do you want to die in vain ... alongside this dumbshit?

It isn’t about the Will of D, not really. The first time Law laid eyes on Luffy, he watched the guy punch a Celestial Dragon in the face without a second’s hesitation, because it was the right thing to do. If it weren’t for this moment, Law would never have been compelled to sail to Marineford, thus putting his entire crew in danger, to save the life of an almost-stranger bearing the initial of D. There’s a quality in Luffy that drew Law to him, and it’s the same sort of quality that incited Cora-san to ditch his mission and run off to save Law’s life. 

It’s the sort of quality that Doflamingo, for all his talk, could never hope to understand. 

[bunni-v1]

hii, can I request "First Years Finding Out Your A Girl" with sebek and ortho please?

Ortho and Sebek Find out You’re a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

TW: Swearing (as usual lol); Ortho being creepy; Misogyny mention <3; Reader goes by she/her and is biologically female; Book 6 spoilers (very light, but still there); Bunni hasn't read Book 7 and therefore doesn't know what they're talking about :)

Info: Ortho x Reader; Sebek x Reader; Fem!Reader; Platonic

🍓Hi. If you’ve read the first part of this, I copy pasted the intro. Not because I’m lazy or anything (I’m a little lazy, but I’m a full-time college student who also has a part-time job, so I think I can be excused.) It’s mostly because… It’s a good intro. If people are just discovering this stuff then they can read it, but if you’ve read the first part you can just skip to the good good yk. Anyway, long-ass babble session, but I didn’t include Ortho and Sebek initially because they’re kind of new to the First year group so idk. Felt weird including them. Also, I haven’t read book seven so Sebek I bullshit a lot lol. Anyway, they’re here now, and I absolutely ADORE Ortho, so sorry if my favoritism shows.

First Years

Second Years

Third Years

Dorm Leaders

-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?

-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.

-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.

-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)

-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)

-So how do you two do it?

-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.

-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.

-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)

-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.

-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 

-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.

-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.

-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.

-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!

-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.

-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…

-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.

-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).

-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.

-So… how do they find out?

Ortho 

-Okay, so Ortho is a little creepy weirdo. He’s a highly advanced robot who likely has autism, and loves his big brother a whole fucking lot. 

-(Side note: Can a robot, child, or thing have autism? Does that mean Idia programmed Ortho to be autistic? How silly of him.)

-It’s my personal head cannon that Idia DECKED this kid out in as much high-tech gear as he could get his hands on. 

-He’s equipped with some of the most complex medical features, therefore he has access to a database of all students at NRC’s medical files. (This is not legal, but he does not care for the law.)

-“But Bunni, what does that have to do with the prefect?” Well, Ortho is ALSO equipped with the latest medical scanner on the market.

-Think like Baymax, yeah? He can scan everyone one time and know every piece of medical knowledge readily available.

-Well, Ortho, the sweet little creep he is, automatically scans the medical information of any new person he sees/meets into his database — just in case it may come in handy.

-So, before he even KNOWS you. Before he speaks a single word to you, he knows you’re biologically a female.

-He scanned you without thinking and just shrugged his shoulders at it.

-You’re not from here, and you got thrown into this, so you being a woman doesn’t really matter too much to you being at NRC. 

-It honestly could’ve been anyone getting stuck here, so why should he question it?

-However, he notices that you are referred to with exclusively “male” pronouns, so he marks in your file that you are trans and moves on. 

-Again, who cares? He’s a magical robot guy based on his brother's dead brother. Who was he to judge?

-When he finally ACTUALLY gets to interact with you after being welcomed into the first-year squad, he’s very respectful of your gender.

-You are a man to him, therefore he refers to you with exclusively masculine pronouns.

-However, everyone in your little group already knows, and they assume that Ortho knows. So when they speak about you, they use feminine pronouns.

-Ortho, sweet as he is, immediately questions everyone as to why they’re misgendering you.

-Protective of the people he cares for at heart, he doesn’t like the idea that your so-called closest friends are misgendering you behind your back.

-Doesn’t believe them completely when they explain, so he goes to you because you’re the only one who knows who you really are.

-“Prefect!”

“Hey, Ortho! What’s up? Miss me?”

“Of course I do, but I have a very important question.”

“Sure, what do ya need?”

“Are you a woman?”

-At this point 90% of your friends know, but there is a handful that doesn’t… and you can’t be having that.

-You, of course, assure Ortho that you are not only a woman, but that your friends are not misgendering you behind your back.

-Relieved, he takes several of your friends off a hit list and removes the trans man label on your medical chart.

-Asks why you hid your gender in the first place.

-Promptly adds Crowley to a hit list (again).

-Ortho, out of EVERYONE at NRC, has absolutely zero behavior changes toward you. 

-He’s equally protective as he was before, he spends the same amount of time with you as usual, he doesn’t suddenly have some weird crush on you, and he’s still trying to set you up with Idia.

-Honestly, everyone should take notes from Ortho. He’s the best at this whole thing.

Sebek

-On the other hand… do not take notes from Sebek! He sucks at this! He sucks really badly!

-Out of all the first years, Sebek is not only the least close to you, but he is also incredibly mean. So you just… feel no obligation to tell him.

-In fact, you kind of… sort of… actively leave him out of the loop for a really long time.

-I mean, it's not an unreasonable thing to do. He is constantly berating you and putting you down for being human. You have no idea how he feels about women and you don’t want to find out first hand.

-In all honesty, he is the only person (other than Azul and the twins) that you’re really scared of finding out, and take extra precautions to ensure he doesn’t find out.

-However, you attend NRC, and nothing ever goes your way at NRC.

-Despite every precaution you take to keep your gender under lock and key, you overlook one thing.

-Malleus Draconia.

-His complete and total lack of social awareness is your downfall here. He finds out, and despite everything telling him to keep his mouth shut… he doesn’t. Because of course, he doesn’t.

-At this point, you’ve gone through most of your misadventures, and most — if not all — of your friends know you’re a girl.

-Hell, even Silver knows now. Everyone BUT Sebek knows.

-And he finds out because Malleus casually mentions it over dinner. Not even directly about your gender, he just uses she/her pronouns.

-Sebek, being Sebek, respectfully asks Malleus if he meant to say he. Malleus, of course, says no without a second thought.

-The shock and horror on Silver and Lilia’s faces was enough to be further confirmation.

-And Sebek’s world shatters.

-He was completely left out of the loop and also has a moral conflict now.

-As much shit, as I gave Sebek (as everyone gives Sebek) he RESPECTS women. His queen is a woman, and his mother is a woman. 

-In his eyes, women are some of the strongest people around. Regardless of if they’re human or not.

-You, on top of being a human from another realm who had successfully quelled several of the strangest students at NRC’s OVERBLOTS and came out on top, was also a woman.

-If that wasn’t strength, he didn’t know what it was.

-However, his bias against humans strongly clashes with his respect for women in this case.

-And it just… messes with his head. 

-He doesn’t treat you worse, in fact, he’s just… really awkward around you now.

-He doesn’t know if he should apologize or berate you for being a human, so he just stays stiff and glares at you.

-It's honestly more scary than him constantly talking down to you.

-However, once the two of you actually befriend one another, he apologizes to you. For everything, and explains where he’s coming from. Why he acted the way he did, how he really feels about you, and all that sweet shit.

-Afterwards, he is genuinely the best at keeping your secret (if he even needs to at this point).

-If there is anyone you can trust to keep his stupid mouth shut at NRC, it's Sebek. 

-His honor and pride force him into silence when it comes to secrets he promises to keep.

-In fact, if anyone is on your trail about it, he’s the first one to jump in the way and scare them off/shut them down.

[kaylatoonz]

Amy meets everyone but Sonic

I think it would be funny/interesting if Amy doesn’t meet Sonic until the end or near climax of the movie.

From what I can remember from the games, Amy would almost always do something small within the sideline of the story that becomes impactful in the main story. Best example of this is how her interaction between Silver and Shadow both play a part in them switching from antagonist to friends/allies to Sonic and his friends.

If the SCU introduces Amy in the third film I think this would be the best way to go about it if she doesn’t get as much screen time. There could be a side plot where Amy is trying to find Sonic but she meets everyone that has some connection to him instead. Each person she meets she helps/supports them in a small but impactful way that helps Sonic and friends in a big way by the climax or end of the film.

They could give us a taste of Amy’s strengths and feisty nature by showing her teaming up with knuckles (maybe give them a dynamic similar to Sonic X or IDW). Then they can establish her kindness and determination to help those who have been wronged, by showing her helping tails at his lowest point (maybe Amy helps tails in his SA2 arc or help him break sonic out of prison island). Finally, by the climax of the film Amy indirectly helps Sonic in the biggest way possible by reminding Shadow of his promise to Maria which encourages him to aid Sonic in saving the world.

Bonus points if throughout the film there this running gag of Sonic and Amy keep just missing each other.

Amy just left after helping knuckles and wade defend citizens from strange creatures (black arms?)

Sonic: sorry I’m late to the party, I heard from tails that you guys might need some back up

Knuckles: no need little brother we have defeated our new foe with the help of a valiant new ally.

Sonic:?

Wade: yeah your pink girlfriend was a lot of help 😄

Knuckles:*look confuse then thoughtful*

Sonic:… Wade i don’t have a girlfriend why would you assume

Wade: oh she is a pink hedgehog like you and she got really excited when she found out that we know you so sh..

Sonic: Wade you can’t just assume we’re together just because we’re both hedgehogs I don’t even kno… wait! She's a hedgehog too?! And she’s on our side!

Where is she? I gotta meet her! * starts dashing round the battle field*

Wade: as I was just saying you just missed her and she was actually looking for yo..

Sonic: dang it! Maybe I can catch up to her, we could use all the help we can get if we’re fighting that faker. Contact tails for the deets gotta go! * runs off*

Wade: wait sonic she was look for.. and he’s gone

Knuckles: she could be a good partner, they’re both strong and reckless 🤔

Wade: I know right 😄

Amy get held up fighting off /distracting the guards while helping tails break sonic out of prison island

Sonic: thanks little bro I didn’t think I could broke out here on my own.

Tails: your welcome but I can’t take all the credit I had some outside help

Sonic: let me guess pink hedgehog

Tails: yeah you’ve met

Sonic: nope but I’ve heard great things. I seem to just miss her everywhere I go

Tails: *smirks* so the fastest thing alive can’t caught the girl

Sonic:*roll eyes* hardy har har, very funny… is she still around? I really like to meet this new heroine, maybe team up.

Tails: yeah she holding back the guards I can put her on speak if you insist 😏

Sonic: tails😑

Tails: ok ok Hey Amy do you copy?

Amy: yep still here though my hands are a bit full at the moment. How are things on your end? Did you find him? Do you need help?

Tails: yeah everything great I found him , we’re safe and he really interested in meeting you😏 (sonic: tails it’s not like that😠) so we were hoping we can make our escape and meet back at..

Amy: *wham!* That sounds great I.. *fzzzz* I can meet you guy at *fzzz* HEY! You better stay down or I’ll get my hammer and! *fzzz *wham!*

Tails and Sonic: hammer?

Amy: *fzzz* oops…

Tails: what do you mean oops…

* An explosion can be heard from the other end and the build shakes*

Tails: AMY! ARE YOU STILL THERE! ARE YOU OK?!?! AMY PLEASE RESPON-

Amy: I’m ok! I’m ok there’s just a lot more exits then we originally planned so I’m just gonna take one of those * awkward giggles* I’ll meet you guys at *fzzz* *line cuts*

Tails: * sighs in relief* well better luck next time Sonic I don’t think you’ll be catching miss rose any time soon.

Sonic: dang I was really hoping to catch her this time she sounds like a fun gal.

Tails:😏

Sonic: *lightly punches tails shoulder* welp we better make use of Amy’s specially made exits and get out of here.

After Amy reminds Shadow of his promise to Maria and so Shadow joins Sonic in facing the final threat of the film (black arm, bio lizard, metal sonic?).

Sonic: hey shads come to join the party? What changed your mind?

Shadow: your pink friend reminded me of something important…

Sonic: *looks confused for a second before realizing who he’s talking about*

Sonic: no way… she really is something special…😊

Shadow: she is…😌 now let get this over with this only one time thing got that faker😈

Sonic: whatever you say faker😈 now let’s kick some butts.

[blazingstar400]

[Clavell trying to understand everyone better]

Clavell: Tell me about your friend group, Florian.

Florian: If I explain all that we’re gonna be here for a while… where do I even start?

Florian: Hm… well… I guess I can go ahead and start with Carmine. She’s tough, smart, hot-headed, hard to read, and scary as heck sometimes. But I think she’s secretly nice.

[Flashback]

Carmine: Tell me who has me for Secret Santa.

Juliana: What? Noooo! That takes all the fun out of it!

Carmine: *glares daggers at her*

Juliana: It’s me. I got you a scarf. It’s blue and ugly. I can return it if you wan—

Carmine, snatches the gift before she can finish: Well now it’s my blue and ugly scarf! Back off!!

[End of flashback]

Florian: Next I guess is Nemona. She’s hyperactive. Not the most brilliant, but she works harder than anyone else. She doesn’t have the best aim or grip on things though.

[Flashback, Nemona unwraps a muffin, then drops it on the ground.]

Nemona: Awww shoot! My muffin!

[As she picks it up, she smacks her head on the table.]

Nemona: Ow! My head! My muffin and my head!

[End of flashback]

Florian: Penny’s probably the most brilliant when it comes to tech and stuff. She was the Leader of Team Star. Gets underestimated because of her looks, so she’s always trying to prove she’s tough.

[Flashback, Penny puts hot sauce on her sandwich. She looks up to see Florian watching her.]

Penny: You think I can’t handle this much hot sauce? I can handle way more than this. *she empties the hot sauce on her sandwich and takes a bite*

Penny, in agony: In... your... face.

Florian: ...I never said anything…

[End of flashback]

Clavell: What about Arven?

Florian: Arven’s probably like the big brother of our group. And he cooks for all of us. If it weren’t for him we’d probably all eat unhealthy or starve…

[Flashback]

Kieran: *is eating a chocolate bar*

Arven: *quickly snatches it out of his grasp and crushes it*

Kieran, now slightly annoyed: Hey!! I was eating that!!

Arven: Not on my watch!! You have been eating nothing but chocolate and candy for the past few days! Don’t you know how unhealthy that is??

Arven, bringing out a well seasoned salad: Here! This would be a lot better for you to eat!

Kieran: *looks down at the salad with a disgusted/grumpy look*

[End of flashback]

Florian: Kieran is the shy and sweet one in our group but at the same time… he’s also really emo and edgy. Also, I think he’s secretly down bad for Juliana but he’s in complete denial. He’d probably kill me if he figures out I told you so just don’t tell him I said that…

Meanwhile, Kieran is in his room petting Furret but suddenly pauses: Why do I feel like Florian is out there somewhere… telling my deepest, darkest secret?

Clavell: And Juliana?

Florian: Juliana’s the strongest trainer in our group. Also, she’s the one with the purest heart. Loves music, helping others, saving the world, stopping then forgiving bad guys, and solving puzzles. The only puzzle she hasn’t seemed to solved though... is how to grow up.

[Flashback]

Florian: Stay here while I get more supplies for our up coming trip okay?

Juliana, beaming: Don’t worry, Florian! I’m not going anywhere!

Florian, closing his eyes and sighing: You better. This store is like a maze. So just stick close to me so you don’t get lost okay?

Florian: …

Florian: Okay?

Florian: …

Florian, opening his eyes: …Juliana?

[He sees Juliana rushing off in the distance after a butterfly]

Juliana: Heeeey!! Come back here!!

Florian, watching with an unamused look: I should have known…

[End of flashback]

Florian: And finally there’s me. I’m really just a typical average person. Not much to say about me.

Florian:

Florian: Honestly, I feel like I’m the only normal person in my friend group….

[frankcastlescumslut]

Scrambled Eggs

pairing: steve harrington x henderson sister!reader

word count: 4.5k

summary: you and Steve end up drinking a little too much after having a movie night with Dustin, so the only responsible thing is to make him stay the night, right? (mutual pining!!)

warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort (reader has a nightmare), alcohol consumption, maybe a little misogyny?, tiny ST4 spoilers

a/n: first steve fic slay!! nobody can convince me that he isn’t the dorkiest yet sweetest little baby girl in the world. I’ll die on this hill.

FEEDBACK/COMMENTS/REBLOGS/LIKES are always welcome <3

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. I WILL SMITE YOU.

“You’re telling me a baby survived that shit?”

“Sibling love is a powerful thing, Harrington.” Dustin’s hand meets Steve’s back with a loud clap as they exit the theater, seemingly to have forgotten your existence as they critique the newest movie.

“Yeah, well, hate to break it to you Dustin, but Sarah is better than me. I don’t know how she left the Goblin King.” Your laugh echoes from behind, and you nearly run into them as they abruptly stop in their tracks.

“Um, ouch?”

“The Goblin King? Really?” Steve turns to you, one eyebrow hooked so high it could’ve touched his hairline, his mouth an open frown. Your shoulders touch your ears as you shrug, unwilling to elaborate, and push past them with a smirk.

The door to the cinema swings open before you have an opportunity to push through- Steve had practically sprinted ahead to hold it open himself, and you bow your head ever so dramatically towards him as a chivalrous ‘thank you’. It started as an inside joke, they actually call you King Harrington? like, seriously?, and you had to keep the joke rolling, knowing that it got under his skin; so, you addressed him like royalty. Eventually, though, it became your thing.

“Thank you, my liege.”

“Tis a pleasure, my fair maiden.” He nods back to you, nearly letting the door close on your brother.

“You guys make me sick.” Dustin practically shouts as you head to Steve’s car.

You’d be lying if you said the rumors weren’t a little humorous. The entirety of Hawkins is convinced you and Steve are dating, never believing your protests. “we’re not dating! she’s my friend!” “we aren’t a thing! he’s my friend!”

Of course you were friends- you were kinda obligated to befriend the boy that saved your brother’s ass more times than he could count, and you weren’t exactly unhappy by how often you would see him. Maybe it was a tiny crush you weren’t willing to admit, or the hair, or just the way you owed him for your brother’s life, it didn’t matter; Steve was a part of your life as well.

It didn't help that your best friend Robin happened to work with Steve and get all of the details. I swear, he never shuts up about you. Seriously, I love you both and all, but man. There’s only so much I can take before wanting to bash my head in because of his annoying voice. You never believed her, always quick to clarify that he was just a good friend, but she would always react with the same hum and eye roll. You can’t even be mad! You’re the one who got us to hang out in the first place!

But the rumors circulated nonetheless. King Harrington with the weird Henderson sister. It looked strange from the outside- an unlikely pair for sure, but it felt familiar- comfortable. You just understood each other. As friends. That’s it. Definitely nothing else.

Until you would both plop onto the couch after finishing the box of pizza, his extra bits of crust left over because you had told him that’s the best part over a year ago. Or whenever he would nonchalantly take a sip of whatever drink you held in your hand at whatever party you were at while you talked to a friend- handing it back to you, fingers touching lightly. Or the way quick goodbyes from your door frame turned into you walking him to the front porch, closing the door behind you for some semblance of privacy. And then of course the blushing that you couldn’t hide when you would wave to him before your front door closed, knowing he would only leave after ensuring you were safe in your home. Or the way you both clung to each other after evading death one too many times in an alternate dimension, never failing to grab at each other's faces and body to make sure you really had survived.

So while it wasn’t an anomaly for your heart to beat out of your chest when your hands collided in the popcorn bowl, or how Steve’s pinky finger hooked under your own as you clutched the arm of the seat during a scary scene, you both were still stuck with a knot in your throats and a bad case of cotton mouth.

The spark was subtle, but it was there. Neither of you knew what to do- knew how to acknowledge the hidden feelings, knew if it was worth putting a name to whatever you were suppressing- especially when nothing was guaranteed. In a place like Hawkins where anything was possible, you didn’t want to face a reality where one of you could return from a nightmare without the other.

“I’m just… not following you here. The Goblin King?” Steve calls after you as you make your way through your house towards the kitchen.

“It’s not for you to understand Harrington!” The refrigerator door muffles your response as you grab a few beers from the fridge.

You miss the way Steve turns towards Dustin for reassurance, throwing his arms out in disbelief.

“Women are complicated, beautiful creatures.” Your little brother consoles your best friend with another slap on the back.

“Yeah, cause you know so much about that, right?” Static of a walkie talkie interrupted Steve’s remark.

“Damn right I do,” Dustin walks backwards, two fingers pointing between you and Steve, “be good, I’ll be watching.” You can’t help but laugh as a pillow smacks against your brother, and you catch the way Steve blushes at the insinuation, as if he hadn’t dreamt about it for the past year or so.

Hours pass by as if they were minutes. You both end up talking about whatever comes to mind- somehow always circling back to your fascination with Jareth, it’s the hair, Steven. Innocent giggles fill the room as your stomach feels a little fuller and your head feels a little lighter.

“The hair, really?” Steve slurs his words a little too much, and you both can’t help but try to hold a serious face, failing as soon as you make eye contact.

He attempts to push himself off of the couch in order to throw the empty bottles away, but loses his balance and falls back with a laugh.

“You. Stay. No way you’re driving” you turn to face him, emphasizing each word with a finger to his chest.

“No no no, I’ll be fine” he waves at you, but you don’t buy it.

“Absolutely not. Get in my bed” you boss him, his eyebrow raising with shock.

“Hey! I’m not that easy.”

“Not like that, perv” you lightly smack him and grab the bottles as you hoist yourself to your feet. “But really, you’re staying here. I don’t want you to drive tonight.”

“Yes ma’am” you blush as he obeys with a salute. “One condition. You get the bed, I get the couch.”

“No way, you’re the guest. You get the bed.”

“And you’re a woman. You get the bed or I sleep in the yard, final offer.” He raises his hands apologetically.

“You know,” you finally join him in the living room with a smirk on your face. “You could sleep in Dustin’s room, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Have you lost your mind?” His eyes bug out of his head at the suggestion, causing you to laugh as you stumble behind the couch.

“Yeah, kinda.”

You start to collect blankets and pillows from the chest behind the sofa, unfolding and airing out the sheets and comforters. Steve grabs a blanket and follows your lead.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m… helping?“ His voice raises in pitch, surprised by the shock on your face.

“No you’re not, stop!” The blanket is snatched from his hands playfully. ”You’re the guest, king Harrington.” You wink at him as you throw a large comforter over the couch in usual fashion.

Although he enjoys your humor and the way you look out for him, he feels inadequate as he stands idly.

“Plus, I have a system.” His brow perks at your attempts to make him feel better.

“A system?”

“Yes, a system.” You say matter-of-factly. “For the perfect sleeping conditions.”

The fabric ruffles as you tuck it into the bottom cushions.

“First, you take all of the back cushions off and tuck a comforter instead of a sheet, like this.” You motion to what you’re currently doing.

“It adds more cushion and gives you more space. Then,” you grab the two firmest pillows you have before placing them in their correct spots. “You take two pillows like this and kinda put them at this weird angle, and then a long pillow goes this way to catch your leg.” Pillows completely hide the sofa at this point, “and then two soft pillows go right on top so it’s-“

“Like a nest.“ Your voices collide.

“Exactly.” You take a step back and beam at your perfect nest.

“How’d you come up with this system?” Crap. You hadn’t thought this through.

“Uh… personal experience.”

“Personal experience? Come on, you know you can’t lie to me.”

“I sleep on the couch.” You surrender, knowing that he was absolutely right- you were the worst liar in the world.

“What?” His voice sounds harsh and you wince slightly, but his face is painted with concern- his eyes soft.

“I, uh, can’t really sleep in my bed? Or go in my room, really. It just, uh…” you stumble over your words, embarrassed at the confession, not yet ready to meet your best friend’s face. Steve glances over your shoulder and sees the untouched room, confirming your statement.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“No, no, it’s okay. You don’t have to-“

“Where are you going to sleep if I’m on the couch then?” He noticed the way your face burned, clearly uncomfortable at the vulnerability and he tried to amend the situation by changing the subject, suppressing his longing to hold you in his arms. Admittedly, you hadn’t really thought about the answer.

“Good question” you laugh dryly. “I’ll call robin or something?”

“No!” he clears his throat, trying to hide his distaste for the change of plans. “No, really. I’ll sleep on the floor, you take the couch.”

“Steve-“

“Seriously. Lay down.” You give your best pout, somewhat teetering, but the hands on his hips tells you he’s serious.

“One condition,” you mimic his previous words. “You at least get on the couch too.” You’re not sure what got into you- guilt? maybe a teeny bit of desire? Regardless, whatever plan you were currently pulling out of your ass, it was working.

“Deal.” He agreed with a blush.

“Deal. Just, give me a second. I’ll look for some clothes or something.”

You disappear into the confines of your room, and he paces around the living room with a flushed face and hands running through his thick hair. Get it together, man. It’s just one night, she’s just making sure you don’t drive. Just one night. C’mon… He fights with himself, unwilling to entertain the possibility that you could possibly have feelings for him.

Meanwhile, your thoughts practically mirror his own from the seclusion of your room. It’s just one night. He’s been drinking, it’s not weird. He just can’t drive, that’s all. You rummage through your drawers looking for anything that Steve could possibly wear before landing on some long forgotten boyfriend’s sweatpants.

“It’s not much, but, here,” you shove the clothes into Steve’s sturdy chest. “You can change in my room, I’ll be right back.” Reality sank in as you practically ran to the bathroom with warmed cheeks.

He glances down at the clothes before watching the bathroom door hide your body- his hand nervously resting on the doorknob to your bedroom.

It’s not what he expects, to say the least. It’s… empty. Nothing hangs on your walls, nothing rests on your dressers or bedside table. The only sign of life comes from the articles of clothes hanging out of your drawers and a framed picture of you and Dustin at some summer camp. Dust collects on every flat surface- it's like a ghost resides in your room, and his heart breaks at the realization.

He pulls on the clothes with ease, trying not to wonder how you came into possession of men’s sweat pants. I’m not jealous, just curious, he has to convince himself before chuckling at the way the t-shirt mimics a crop top.

His feet bring him to the living room, and reality punches him in the gut.

He huffs as he paces throughout the living room, quickly blowing into the palm of his hand before breathing in to assess his breath. The hem of the shirt tugs in his grasp as he realizes how much skin is showing, afraid you would interpret it as a suggestive move. He opts to curl into the corner of the couch, hiding as much of himself as he could.

You weren’t expecting to find him so tense and leaned into the arm of the sofa. You also weren’t expecting to feel nauseous nervous as you approached quietly, wishing your sleep shorts and shirt offered a little more coverage. It’s just Steve, don’t be ridiculous. It’s just Steve.

You lightly fake a cough to announce your arrival, shying away as you watch his neck and cheeks redden, his eyes growing wide as he takes you in. You looked even more beautiful, if that were even possible, and he definitely tried to not linger on the exposed skin of your thighs.

“Here,” you had quickly shuffled towards the chest of blankets before handing him your favorite pillow and the softest blanket you had. He noticed the way your own cheeks warmed at the closeness and huffed a shy ‘thank you’.

He watched as you climbed onto the couch at the opposite end, mirroring his own position. You hoped you hadn’t made him uncomfortable by your current state and lack of clothing. Maybe telling him about the nightmares was a mistake and scared him away, or maybe you were just being particularly selfish and a coward, afraid of a bedroom- afraid of what you would lose if you let comfort in.

“I meant it when I said lay down.” His voice makes you jump as he interrupts your internal monologue.

“You’re not even laying down.”

“Well I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He throws his arms towards you.

“Well I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You admit, holding the same impatient tone.

“I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Well I’m not uncomfortable either.” It’s silent for a moment as you chew on your cheek, holding each other’s stare. There’s some kind of buzzing energy that fills the space between your bodies, and you finally cave.

“Damn it, Steve” you groan, rolling your eyes dramatically. “Just get over here already.”

You try not to laugh at how quickly he moves towards you, but you’re silenced when you notice the skin of his exposed stomach, happy trail peeking beneath the waistband of the grey sweats. Your cheeks burned and some unfamiliar feeling stirred within you, but you pushed it away as he shuffled behind you.

Oh God, oh God, oh God his mind chants as you curl away from him, your backside nearing his crotch.

Oh God, oh God, oh God you’re practically sweating as you attempt to get comfortable, thankful that he had no way of seeing the way your cheeks burned.

Steve throws the blanket over you, carefully tucking it in between your bodies, before closing the gap, praying he doesn’t get a boner. You feel the way his body tenses behind you; his hands find their place between his knees, and his forehead rests in between your shoulders.

The air stills in the living room as you both awkwardly lay against the other, afraid to even breathe. You feel the way his foot shakes, causing your own leg to shake with him.

“You can touch me, you know.”

“What?” He feels like the air was knocked out of his lungs.

“Not like that, you perv” you chuckle at his reaction, not willing to let your mind go there.

“I can’t even see you but I know you’re uncomfortable like that.” you attempt to twist your body some to find his face, only to press your back into him even further. “I don’t bite” He watches the way your head turns ever so slightly to reassure him, and he gently places his arm around you, sighing as he’s able to adjust finally.

“Is this okay?” It’s barely a whisper, but he has to ask.

“Yes, are you okay?” Your heart pounds in your chest as his breath tickles your neck.

“I’m great.”

“Hi, great. Nice to meet you.”

“Shut up” His knee nudges into the back of your leg as you giggle to yourselves, sleep pulling your eyelids close.

“Go to sleep.” You can hear the smile as he closes his eyes, resting his head above yours.

“You go to sleep.”

“You first.” You smile as his voice deepens and his hold on your waist tightens ever so lightly- the darkness behind your eyes suddenly becomes comfortable.

The clock strikes match the rhythm of your pounding heartbeat. Your head whips back and forth as your vision clears, red fog swirling around your frame. The ground beneath your feet squelches as you turn slowly, looking around for any sign of life. Your name being called from an invisible source startles you, causing your chest to heave in anticipation.

“This is your fault.” The deep voice growls, your body turning in circles to locate it.

“You sat there, watching.” Footsteps thud behind you.

“You watched your brother and friends sacrifice themselves, and you didn’t.”

“No, no this isn’t real.” Your voice trembles and your feet refuse to move.

“You watched like a coward.” His voice is behind you.

“I didn’t. You’re not real. This is a dream.”

“You watched, and they died.”

“This is a dream!” Your voice shrieks at your desperation.

Tree-like structures resemblant of rotten flesh shoot up from the ground, forcing you to open your eyes. Thick ropes support your best friend’s body to the post, tightening around his neck.

“No! No no no! Steve!” The sound of his name coming from your voice wakes him with a jolt. His heart stops as you shriek, afraid he may have squeezed you too tightly or even worse, you’ve changed your mind about him staying and were uncomfortable.

He grows stiff and pushes himself away from your curled body, waiting for you to call him a pervert or a freak and kick him out. It takes him a second to come to, and he watches the way your fingers grip into the couch cushion and your eyes squeeze shut. Your forehead is damp with sweat and your curled body shakes as you sob.

“Take me! Take me instead! Please!” His hands hover over your body as you sob beneath him. He knows the risks of

waking someone up during a nightmare, but his heart nearly cracked in two at the sight of you. His eyes are wild as he anticipates your mom or brother coming to help, but he notices the towels placed against the doors- sound proof. This was a normal occurrence.

“Dont hurt him! Take me! Please, no! Steve!“ his heart lurches at your desperation in your voice.

“Hey hey hey, wake up,” he whispers. “It’s just a dream, it’s not real.” He strokes your face, hoping it’s enough to wake you from your torment

“C’mon, c‘mon wake up, it’s okay! I’m here! You’re safe!”

“Steve! Please!”

“Sweetheart,” the pet name slips through his lips “it’s just a dream, it’s not real.” Worry etches into his features as he turns you on your back, his palm cradling your face.

“I’m here! You’re safe and I’m here. It’s okay. Wake up, sweetheart, it’s okay.” He’s equally shocked and relieved as your eyes shoot open and you gasp for a breath while scrambling to a sitting position.

“Hey hey hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.” He’s in front of you now; no rope around his neck.

“Steve?” Your lip wobbles.

“It’s me, I’m here.”

“Is this real?” Your voice cracks as you try to reach out and touch him, just to make sure. He holds your wrist gently before pressing your palm to his cheek, his own hand cupping the softness of your cheek.”

“It’s real. You’re real. It was just a dream-“ He’s caught off guard at the way you throw yourself at him, clinging to his frame as if he were about to slip away.

Your shirt bunches in his grip as he holds you, afraid that you would turn into a ghost if he let go.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers into your shoulder as tears threaten to spill. It’s too familiar- these types of embraces were too familiar.

“I thought I lost you. I-“ you stutter, “I thought you were dead and,” you hiccup into him and your body heaves with each sob.

“I'm not dead. I’m safe and so are you, I promise.” he rubs your back in soothing circles.

“Just breathe with me, okay?” you try your best and relax into him, following the steady rhythm of his heart that pounds in his chest.

“There you go,” he soothes you. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” The embarrassment hits as you become aware of your condition. You pull away from him, your head hanging low in shame, shying away from his gaze.

“Hey, it’s okay,” He leans to meet your face and you wipe a tear with the back of your hand. ”We’re okay, okay?” Your head nods automatically, and you relish in his tenderness.

”I’ll be right back, okay? Gonna get you some water-” your hand wraps around his wrist as he tried to stand, his gaze softening at the touch.

“Alright, you’re comin’ with me then.”

Your house was like a second home to Steve, so he had no issue locating your favorite mug before filling it with water. It’s silent in the small space of the kitchen. The water soothes your sore throat as you lean against the counter while taking small sips, wishing you could curl into yourself and disappear.

Steve’s heart breaks as he watches over you, finally putting the pieces together. Now it makes sense as to why you don’t have a curfew, why you drink coffee at the wrong time, why you always declined Robin’s invitations to a sleepover, why he was only allowed to come over in the afternoons. This was a normal occurrence.

You don’t say anything as you press off of the counter and head to the living room, hoping to gain a few extra hours of sleep. Steve gently shuffles around you, careful not to frighten you, before adjusting the sheets and pillows like you had shown him earlier. The thoughtfulness of his actions softens something inside of you, but the way he sits back against the cushions and extends his arms out towards you breaks something entirely.

Whatever guards you had put up, whatever boundaries you had established, whatever lies you kept telling yourself simply flew out the window. You were done pretending that everyone else- every rumor and gossip that filled your weird town- had been wrong, when really, you were afraid that they were right.

You fall into him with ease, hooking your leg over his waist and pulling yourself impossibly closer with an arm strewn across his chest. You practically laid on top of him, but he would never complain, even if his arm tingled with numbness below.

“I have em too, you know.” Fingertips trail over your back as you relax into him, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You do?”

“Yeah. They used to happen every night but they've slowed down.”

“What’s your secret?” You crane your neck in an attempt to look at him.

You.

“Luck, maybe?” He laughs through his nose and you sigh into him, not completely content with his answer.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?“ He adjusts his head slightly, wishing he could see your face. “For what?”

“That you had to see me like that.” You groan.

“Like what? An ugly mess?” His stomachs contracts as he huffs out a laugh.

“Hey,” you weakly hit his chest

”I’m kidding. You’re a very pretty mess”

“Like that’s much better?” you chuckle

“Let me try again,” he clears his throat dramatically. “Hear ye hear ye, here lies your majesty, queen Henderson, the most beautiful mess any man or woman of Hawkins will ever see!” You can hear the smile from below and your heart flutters at the compliment.

“God, you’re such a loser, but I’ll take it.” You strain your neck to place a chaste kiss to his jawline before quickly receding back to the safety of his chest.

You definitely notice the way his heart thunders below your ear, but you don’t mention it- yours was doing the exact same. It’s quiet as he rubs your back and his fingers scratch at your scalp lightly.

“It’s gonna be okay, okay? I promise.” You lift a pinky up to him, and he hooks it back with sincerity.

—————

“Well I’ll be damned!” A white flash of light rudely pulls you from your sleep, and you flinch at the loud voice.

“Mom, get in here!” You’re hardly able to squint your heavy eyes open, and Steve grumbles below you, his hands instinctively grabbing onto you as you stir. Dustin stands in front of you with the most shit-eating grin possible, a polaroid developing in one hand that rests on his hip.

“Dustin, go away!” You push your arm out towards your brother with closed eyes, sleep holding your body against Steve’s.

“No way! I was wondering how long it was gonna take before one of you guys caved! Jesus, mom had mentioned something about eggs drying up, and-“

“Henderson, shut up!“ Steve runs a large hand over his face, fingers press into his closed eyes, his other arm still firm against your back. “What time is it?”

“Damn it!!” Your mom’s shrill voice fills the room as she runs in and stops at the threshold. Steve shoots straight up, effectively flinging you away in the process, at the sight of your mom.

“Mrs. Henderson! I swear nothing-“

“Here.” She sounds disappointed as she reluctantly hands Dustin a twenty dollar bill.

“Did you guys-“ Your brows form a line as you take in the scene playing out in front of your eyes.

“Place bets? Yes. Since last year. Now if you don’t mind me, I will be making a call and playing tax collector.” Dustin bows dramatically. “Thank you both for your cooperation.”

You watch as your brother runs to his room, the static of walkie talkies and muffled yells, Guys! Come in! The eggs have hatched! I repeat, the eggs have hatched!, can be heard from the living room.

The couch huffs as you both lean against the frame, admiring the way sleep clings to your features. You can’t help but laugh at the way pieces of his hair disobey gravity.

“I think they’re talking about my ovaries.”

“Yeah, they totally are.”

a/n: thank you for the love on this!!!! I decided to make a little universe for them so here’s like a little part 2 :)