#It's not until she gets scolded for doing something reckless and one of the security corps laughs

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Protective

[Inside Out 2] Valentina [Val] Ortiz x Female Reader

Summary: It's not common to see Val so defensive over someone, but she's growing increasingly protective of you.

Word Count: 2.63k Content + Warnings: Slightly OOC Val (I think?), Val punches someone and gets called a bitch for it, mentions of blood and a broken nose Category: Slight Angst + Heavy Fluff || One-shot

[A/N]: Like usual, this isn't proofread beyond brief skimming. Thanks to everyone who answered my poll for this story on my other account! This was really fun to write, especially because I got to write about Val punching someone lmao.

Enjoy!

Val has always been protective of her friends. The stronger the bond, the more defensive of them she could be. With her closest friends, however, she’d often lean more towards encouraging them, pushing them to stand up for themselves, knowing she can’t always be there for them. For some reason though, she had never really been that way with you. She knew you were perfectly capable of standing up for yourself, but in her eyes, she wanted to protect you at any given cost.

That feeling only grew stronger once you started dating her.

In the beginning of the relationship, her protective nature was far more subtle. She’d do things like keeping you close and wrapping her arm around your shoulders or waist whenever she could, especially when she could feel you getting uncomfortable. When things would start getting tedious in school, she’d take care of your chores around your shared apartment with her so you could relax after classes, worried you’d overwork yourself.

Even before moving in with her, she’d constantly check in with you to make sure you were okay. She would ask if you needed anything, if you wanted to get out of the house, or if you wanted to just spend some time together. You were never truly alone, she made sure.

She’d stand up for you whenever you needed it, though she’d also scold you here and there if you did something reckless, always apologizing afterwards and expressing how worried she was. She just wants to make sure you’re always safe and secure.

Over time, however, her defensiveness of you began to shine through brighter and brighter.

Occasionally, she found herself growing a little jealous of how much time you’d spend with others. She’d never voice it to you, knowing that your loyalty lies solely with her. She’d work through it on her own and quickly feel more at ease once she reminded herself that you love her and would do anything for her – and she was the same towards you.

When people would flirt with you, she’d grow more bold. Instead of just wrapping her arm around you, she’d either flirt shamelessly with you in front of whoever was doing the same to you, or she’d straight up pull you into a kiss, addressing you as one of her favorite nicknames right after and asking who’s talking to you.

Most people would get the hint and back off, though there were some people here and there who persisted, and usually she’d be just as stubborn until they left. She’d argue with them until they moved along with their day. Not once had Val’s friends seen her get physical with someone else. It’s why it was such a surprise when a boy ended up being shoved to the ground by her hands one day.

Classes had been over for a while that day, and you were waiting patiently for Val outside of the hockey stadium. Her practice would be over soon enough, but you were thankful to have one of your friends with you to kill the time and keep you company while you waited. Happily, you chatted away with her about a show you both liked, so absorbed in the conversation that you hadn’t even noticed a random boy walking your way. He was around your age, though you didn’t recognize him.

Mid-sentence, he leaned against the wall next to you and crossed his arms, a smirk toying on his lips as he eyed you up and down. “That’s my favorite show,” he blurted randomly. Startled by the sudden interruption, you turned to him quickly and furrowed your brows. “Uh,” you stammered out, “what?”

“The show you were just talking about. It’s my favorite.” Awkwardly, you gave him a forced smile and nodded, then turned back to your friend and ignored him in hopes he’d get the hint. He didn’t, unfortunately. “I didn’t know such a pretty girl would ever like what I do. You got any other shows you like?” You only nodded. “Hm, like what?” You gave a very short list of shows, your mind screaming at you to walk away. You would have, but you didn’t want to leave your friend alone with him. Something about him seemed off.

He grinned at you, nodding and stepping a bit closer, slipping his hands into his pockets once his arms uncrossed. “Maybe we should go back to my place and watch them together. You can fill me in on everything I need to know.” Shaking your head, you parted your lips, ready to tell him no. A hand slipped itself against the small of your back before moving to wrap around your waist, and you fell silent. Looking up, Val was standing beside you, glaring at the boy.

She smiled innocently, but you knew her better. You could read her like a book. Behind her forced relaxed posture and strained smile, you could both see and feel the fury and jealousy bubbling up beneath her skin and leaving behind a burning sensation. Subtly, she pulled you against her side.

“No. She and I will watch them together though,” she replied for you, tone dry and bothered. He chuckled and shook his head, pushing himself off the wall with ease and reaching forward, his fingers barely managing to graze your wrist before Val’s hand swept down and smacked his away. “C’mon,” he murmured, biting back a sneer at her actions. “You can both come back to my place with me, if you want. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Again, his arm lurched forward to make another grab at you, This time, Val took hold of your opposite arm and tugged you behind her, shielding you with her body as she shoved him backwards. “Back off. You’re not going to lay your hands on her, and neither of us are going anywhere with you.” Now scowling, he crossed his arms. “Lay your hands on me again, I dare you,” he challenged, leaning his head back to glare down at her.

“I’d rather not. Just touching you makes me want to run my hands under boiling water.” He scoffed out a laugh, offering another shake of his head before tilting his head back down and taking a step closer. “Leave,” was the only warning Val gave. He earned another quick shove when he tried to reach over her. Visibly growing more and more furious at the denial of what he was after, he finally made a move to grab Val by the arm. Before he could pull her aside to get to you though, Val’s free hand balled itself into a fist, quickly driving up and forward until it met his nose.

He stumbled back, his hands clutching at his face and a snarl leaving his lips at the sight of blood coating his fingers. He couldn’t gain his bearings fast enough by the time Val stepped forward and shoved him yet again, this time hard enough to send him flying to the floor.

“I told you to back off,” she bellowed, wiping the backs of her knuckles against her shirt to rid them of his blood. “You bitch!” He hollered, groaning and rolling over onto his front. With one hand lifted to catch each drop of blood from his broken nose, his free hand planted itself beside his head. He propped himself up on his knees and clenched his eyes shut.

After spotting a few teachers making their way over to the scene, Val sighed and stepped back, pulling you behind her again until she was sure it was safe otherwise.

As one of the teachers moved to lift the guy up and keep him back, the other two turned to Val, immediately asking what happened. Eerily calm, she explained the situation, stressing the fact that he had repeatedly tried to lay his hands on you before ultimately grabbing her. They listened intently. Once her side was heard, they turned to the boy, ready to question him next. They both stopped, puzzled, upon seeing his face. Even though his features were distorted with pain caused by his broken nose, they could tell something wasn’t right.

“You aren’t a student here, young man. What do you think you’re doing here?” One teacher questioned. He groaned, lifting the collar of his shirt and wiping away the blood pooling down. He stuttered for a bit, unable to come up with a reasonable answer that wouldn’t throw him further into trouble.

The coach, who had grabbed the boy and helped him up, let out a heavy, tired sigh and shook his head. He yanked the boy roughly to the nearest exit, tugging him outside to scold him loudly. It seemed that, once getting a better look at his face, he recognized him. The two teachers left behind quickly thanked Val for telling them what happened, promising they’d talk more about it the next day in the counselor’s office before they rushed off to try and deescalate the bickering just outside.

Once she was sure it was safe to do so, Val turned around and gently took hold of your hands, her eyes skimming over every inch of skin she could see on your body to ensure you were okay. “Are you alright?” She asked, her voice now soft and laced with concern. You met her eye, noticing how her brows pinched themselves together and her lips pulled backwards into a worried frown. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

It took you a moment to fully process her words. You were still so shaken up and confused by the whole situation. Eventually, you managed to blink enough to focus on her gaze, a small smile painting your lips as you shook your head. “No, I’m fine. You got to me before he could do anything.” Sighing, she nodded as well. “You’d let me know if he did something, right?” “Of course.” “Okay, good.”

“Thank you, by the way,” you mumbled, squeezing her hands reassuringly in your own. “For protecting me.” She finally let herself smile, a hum sounding behind her lips as she nodded. “You don’t have to thank me. He should’ve left you alone the moment you ignored him.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t think I even want to imagine what he could’ve done if you hadn’t been here.” Shuddering, Val shook her head. “Neither do I.”

Briefly, she squeezed your shoulder, then turned away to face your friend. “Are you alright? Did he lay his hands on you or anything?” Smiling at her concern, your friend shook her head. “No, not at all. I’m okay.” Val dipped her head quickly in acknowledgement. “Do you need a ride home?” “No, but could you guys walk me to my car? I have to walk past him and the teachers out there to get to the parking lot.”

“Of course we don’t mind,” you answered immediately, motioning for her to follow as you took Val’s hand and led her down the hall towards the door. “We should go now though. I’m sure someone called the cops or security or something, and I really don’t want any of us to get caught up in that if we don’t have to.”

Once making it outside, you both led your friend over to her car, watching her get in and making sure she left without problems before sneaking around the building to Val’s own car. After slipping into your respective seats, she started the engine and shifted into drive, eagerly leaving the school grounds and having to resist the urge to speed home. Shortly after making it away, you let your hand drive over to take hold of hers, lacing your fingers together and giving a small squeeze. She beamed brightly at you and lifted your interlocked hands to press a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

Thankfully, the drive home was short, and you were soon making your way upstairs with her trailing right behind you until you ultimately made it to your door. She fished the keys out of her bag and easily unlocked it, pushing it open and holding it until you made it inside. She followed immediately after and locked the door once it clicked closed.

After dropping your bags by the entrance, you practically fell down to sit on the sofa, instantly curling up against the headrest and closing your eyes with a sigh of relief at the comfort it provided. You could feel Val sit down by your feet, and when you opened your eyes to look at her, you found her staring back with a soft smile gracing her features. “You okay?” She asked quietly. You nodded, rolling onto your back and running your hands down your face, exasperated. “Yeah, that whole thing was just draining.”

She kicked off her shoes as you spoke, laughing and humming in agreement. You lifted your hands from your face and looked down at the feeling of her head falling to rest against your chest, relaxing her weight comfortably on top of you as her arms snaked their way around your torso to ground herself in place. “Are you okay?” You asked, hands immediately dropping to toy with her hair. “Yeah, why?” “I’ve never seen you get that aggressive with someone before.”

Lifting her head, she glanced up at you. “I didn’t scare you, did I?” You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, no, not at all. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Another hum was your response. She turned her head to its original position and closed her eyes, letting a yawn roll off her tongue. “What about your hand? Is it okay?” You continued. “Why wouldn’t it be? It was just a punch. It’s been through worse.” “There was blood though.” She couldn’t help but snicker at that. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t mine.”

Lovingly, you ducked your head far enough to press a kiss against the top of her head. After doing so, you reached back to the small table standing by the couch, your hand searching momentarily for the blanket you were looking for. After finding it, you tugged it back over your head and shook it to unfold it, draping it over yours and Val’s bodies.

Your arms wrapped themselves around her and tugged her closer to you. “Wanna watch something?” You asked, already reaching back to the table for the remote. She gave a small shrug. “Sure. I might crash, though. I haven’t gotten that upset in a while.”

“I’ll just put something on as background noise.” All you were given in response was a nod, barely noticeable with how small it was. It was clear she was already dozing off, though you weren’t going to complain. There were very few instances where you were given the opportunity to protect her rather than the other way around, and oftentimes, it was those moments where her body gave out for the day and she fell asleep.

There, though, she put every single ounce of her trust in you. In your arms each night, she felt safe, like she could let her guard down. The feeling of your nails raking through her hair and your chest rising and falling beneath her head made every concern in her mind melt away. She’d zone in on your heartbeat every time, content to know it was beating away safely behind your ribs. That sound brought her the most comfort anytime she could hear it. Your heartbeat was her white noise.

She would do anything, including laying down her life, in order to make sure that heart of yours could beat safe and sound for as long as possible. You were everything to her, and she was determined to make sure everyone knew, no matter what risks she had to take. Until her dying breath, she’d protect you.

[http-paprika]

Bite the Hand / Phillip Graves

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part four - belonging ⋆★⋆ the masterlist ⋆★⋆ previous ⋆★⋆ next

summary preparing to deploy on her first mission with the shadow company, frost begins to grow overwhelmed by the shift in her feelings.

werewolf!au / pairing phillip graves x female!reader / callsign frost / wc 1715 / warnings mentions of past trauma, alcohol, and light swearing

notes well, after weeks of painful writer's block, here we are! this chapter is what really sets the gears in motion to fling together frost and graves along with diving a bit more into frost's past which will play a big part in her relationship with graves. also, i don't know anything about military planes and deployments, so, this is definitely inaccurate, but i tried. the taglist is still open, if you want to be added, let me know.

The Shadow Company armory, as Frost had come to learn, was always uncomfortably warm. She stood, shifting her weight from one foot to another as Erikson dug around the boxes of unassigned tactical vests and gear to find something that would properly fit her. During her training, she’d been in ill-fitting gear that she had to suffer with, but now as Graves and Lerch had greenlit her for her first mission, Frost needed to be properly fitted. 

 “And you’re sure that last vest didn’t fit?” Erikson asked her again, Frost looked over at the growing pile of discards, shaking her head. 

 “It’s not my fault I’m not as beefy as the rest of you.” She shrugged, wiping some of the collected sweat off her brow. Even with how much she’d been shifting in the past months, Frost didn’t compare to them. 

 “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Finally, he stopped digging. “Here we go, this should do.” Erikson handed over a dark green vest, slightly worn on the edges but otherwise unused. Without even trying it on, Frost knew it would fit. “I’ll talk to Rodgers, and get a new set of gear ordered for you. But for now, that’ll do.” 

 As she pulled it on, Frost examined the blood-type patch that sat right over her heart, it would have to be replaced to fit her own. “So, who did this belong to?” 

 “Some corpse probably.” Erikson darkly joked, observing as she secured the vest and its various buckles and velcro before moving onto the gloves, and padding. “Very nice, one would think this was made just for you.” 

 She smirked, pulling the gear off and brushing off the dust. “Whatever you say, Erikson.” Surveying the vest fully, she spotted sloppy writing on the inside, indicating the soldier it belonged to, but the writing had mostly been smudged away, and she decided against asking and not wanting her curiosity to bring back grief. Whoever it had belonged to, as Erikson had said, was long gone.

 “How are you feeling, about finally being shipped out?” He asked, leading her to a free locker where she’d store the gear until the following morning when they would embark on the mission. 

 “Strange. Unsure. But, I’m ready to be back in combat. Even if things here aren’t the same as they were in the Marines. There’s a lot less of a moral code I’m being held to, less guilt if I fuck up.” Frost admitted, putting everything up and closing the locker. In some ways, that made her even more nauseous, she wondered how wild she could be before Graves stepped in and scolded her.

 “Just don’t plan on being reckless, and you’ll be fine,” Erikson assured her, patting her on the shoulder. “Now, let’s get out of here before I sweat my entire ass off.”

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Under the red lights in the plane, the only way Frost could describe how she felt was antsy. The mask secured over her face felt like a muzzle, like an attempt to keep her from snapping. It kept her canines, which grew sharper by the day from shifting and the new diet of fresh, hot game meat, from showing. There would be no barring of her teeth today, even if she wanted to. 

“You okay?” Graves asked, stopping in front of her. He’d been moving through the plane, making sure his soldiers were ready to deploy, that the radios were live, and everyone was in place for the hunt. 

 “Yeah, m’fine.” She promised him, but Graves shook his head with a displeased look. He’d become too familiar with her facial expressions and the way her voice strained when she tried to hide the truth. But Graves was too kind to Frost to push for the truth. 

 “You look good,” He commented, quickly finishing the sentence when she cocked an eyebrow up at him. “-In the Shadow Company uniform and wearing our insignia. Like it was made just for you.” She nodded in response, quieter than usual. It wasn’t the normal anxiety Frost had first felt when she entered combat years ago. No, it was something she couldn’t quite put words to, a fear that settled when she looked back up at her Commander or over at her packmates who chatted amongst themselves quietly.

“Frost, you’re gonna be just fine out there. I’ll be right there—“ He taps the radio strapped to her tactical vest. “If you need me. Just a call away.” 

 “Let’s hope I don’t.” Frost joked, trying to ease her unknown stress. At her feet, the case with her sniper sat, reminding her that she was the eyes for her teammates, they’d rely on her shots and calls to keep them guarded, and safe. A daunting task. She’d done it hundreds of times, but the edge of nerves would not cease.

 “What’s going on in that loud mind of yours?” Graves tilted his head slightly, a few locks of sandy hair obstructing his direct and piercing gaze. Frost quickly looked down at the gun lying across her lap, trying to find an answer that made sense of everything she felt. Loyalty, bonded, brothers, her borrowed vest, sisters, the feel of her gloves against her palms, the pack, the smell of pine needles, pale blue eyes, and Graves. 

  As she opened her mouth to speak, Frost quickly closed it, overwhelmed by the words and emotions that filled her. She’d never known how much she craved a place to call her own and surrounded by the Shadow Company pack, she had. A bundle of warmth settled in the pit of her stomach, filling the hole that she’d blinded herself to.

Graves didn’t speak, he just tilted his head again in a way that fully captured her attention. “Well, when the cat finally lets go of your tongue, you always know how to find me.” He told her, a quick pat on her shoulder before he stepped away to speak to Lerch. Her eyes followed his figure, it was the only thing she seemed to focus on, not the countdown to her deployment or the itch in her hands. Just Phillip Graves.

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Hidden in the thicket of the woods, her breathing was masked by the loud calling of crows. The pungent smell of whiskey and motor oil overpowered anything else. She didn’t know where he was, she couldn’t hear him through the trees, but she knew he was coming after her. 

“Don’t hide from me, girl. I am your father!” He barked loudly, the butcher knife in his hand still coated with sheep’s blood, his white apron stained red. The thirteen-year-old girl felt hysteric, on the verge of tears with the fear of what he’d do to her. She hadn’t meant to talk back to him, speaking before thinking. But her remark had invoked his wrath. “I can smell you, girl. A runt like you can’t hide from me, your stench is all over these woods.” 

The words hailed down on her like nails pounded into her bones, catching her off guard and unalert for when he finally found her and yanked her out of the indigo bush by her forearm. She screamed, the sound curdling into a howl. Her body convulsed, bones being broken and reformed, the skin stretched and hair grew, teeth gnashing as she tried to free herself from his grasp. 

That was the first time she ever shifted.

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Frost woke with a start, the sound of the landing gears and loss of altitude dragged her out of her slumber, ears popped in the descent. Stretching, she moved away from whoever’s shoulder it was she had fallen asleep on, her cheek indicted from the shoulder of the tactical vest, she tried to push back the memory that had invaded her mind. She didn’t like to remember how it all began, when she was younger she used to dream it had never happened, hating that she was her father’s daughter. In his eyes, she didn’t belong, even if she had the same noise and sharp tongue. 

But she was no longer seen as her father’s daughter. The Shadow Company had become the only pack she would align herself with. There, she belonged.

“Thought you would sleep the whole time.” Dipaolo chuckled across from her as Frost brushed the hair out of her face. She’d shed the mask and gloves before falling asleep, allowing herself to freely be. “Surprised Graves let you.” 

Almost launching herself out of her seat, Frost looked over at Graves who sat next to her. He didn’t give any indication that he cared, whether that was a good thing or not, Frost was unsure. “She did a hell of a good job out there, Dipaolo. Maybe next time if you do a fraction of the work Frost did, I’ll let you sleep on my shoulder.” 

“Favoritism! I’ve been here for three years and you already like Frost more!” Dipaolo gawked. “It’s because she’s a woman, isn’t it?” 

“Stop getting pissy, Dipaolo. She’s just better.” Vance tells him, cutting into the conversation. The attention was directed away from Frost as her teammates bickered back and forth, allowing her to bury her face in her hands with embarrassment, a groan escaping her lips. 

“Frost, there’s no need to act embarrassed. We’re a pack, we help each other out. Even if it means offering a shoulder to sleep on.” Graves said to her quietly as the plane jolted, touching the tarmac. “You are hardly the first person who’s accidentally fallen asleep on mine. And unlike Oz, you don’t talk in your sleep. So I don’t mind.” 

“Why does that not surprise me?” But even with his reassurance, her cheeks felt hot, a rosy shade that was hidden in the dim light of the plane. It was like an itch she couldn’t ignore. It was a feeling that Frost hadn’t felt in years, one that had once suffocated her and torn her to shreds. 

But everything was different this time, she wasn’t that same scared girl. And Phillip Graves was like nothing she had ever known.

taglist @iamcautiouslyoptimistic @delusionally-loveless-by-choice @bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus @anna-banana27 @unicorngirly1

[luna-writes-stuff]

Kili + ❛You’re interesting, and different, and I like that.❜ + A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards.

Little Thief, Kili Durin

I wasn’t exactly sure what else you wanted me to write about, so I kinda gave my own twist to it. I hope you like it!

Fanfic, gender neutral pronouns

Fluff, crack fic

Tw: A CHILD (not yours, sorry), cake heist, swear words (use of “shit”), child swearing, Established relationship?

Summary: Kili has finally been taken by the meetings. You grow bored and seek dessert after dinner. Upon finding a little dwarfling attempting to steal cake, you help him. Chaos ensues.

It had been yet another boring day in Erebor. Kili had been off to meetings the entire day. He managed to outrun a lot of them for a very long time, but unfortunately, he had been dragged away by his brother this morning. You had been left by yourself to wander the often empty hallways, look after little dwarflings and oversee the loud forges.

It had not been until after the sun had set that you were finally off to do whatever you wanted. Yet Kili had still been busy. Lonely dinners had been rare for the two of you, but there were days there was no choice. Dis had joined you for an afternoon meal, but besides her, no others really joined. Dis had informed you that Thorin and the princes would be busy for a while and that she was not entirely sure when Kili would be dismissed.

After dinner, you wandered off to the kitchens, trying to find some form of dessert. However, as you walked in, the room had been empty. Only a young dwarfling had been vacating the room. He was standing on top of one of the kitchen surfaces, threatening to fall down any moment. He had not yet noticed you, but you ran towards him the moment he started wavering. Your hands steadily held his sides, spooking him momentarily.

“What are you doing here, little one?” You asked quietly, turning him around carefully, but leaving him standing on the surface.

“Nothing.” He answered almost too quickly. The space around his mouth had been decorated with molten chocolate and cake pieces. You were onto him immediately.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” You accused, sitting down on the surface next to him, simultaneously grabbing a wet cloth and tending to his face. His expression turned into one of guilt. He had obviously not been a great liar.

“Now you can stand here, pretending to be all innocent, or you can tell me where the cake is.” You teased, lightening his mood. His frown turned into a smile as his eyes crinkled along with them.

“She hid it up there!” He admitted, pointing towards the upper cupboard. You looked down at his now clean face and shot him a quick wink.

You had jumped off the surface, grabbing the nearest stool and settling it under the cupboard. The first thing you did was lower the kid down, making sure he was safe. As he stayed beside you, you ascended the stool, reaching for the cupboard.

Upon opening it, the smell of freshly baked pie reached your nose. In front of you was a relatively large cake, decorated with sprinkles of chocolate and cookies. Carefully, you grabbed the treasure, holding it down to the dwarfling, silently urging him to grab it and put it down for you. It had been as if he read your mind, because as his hands found the platform, he put it down with great focus.

Just then, the sound of footsteps nearing was heard. You looked at the little boy, who returned the same alarming expression.

“Grab that bowl!” You quietly yelled, pointing towards the huge bowl that had been put on top of the table. The dwarfling rushed towards it, granting you the time to get back down. You grabbed the platform that held the cake, before dumping it into the bowl the boy was holding. The state of the cake would be something to worry about later.

You took the bowl from his hands and supported it with one arm. With your free hand, you reached for his, ready to run away. The boy accepted your gesture and took off running too. A faint “get back here” was heard from behind you, but you ignored it, now rushing through the halls. They had been filled with different dwarves, indicating that the meeting had finally finished.

But you had no more thought for that. All that was important for now was getting the cake to safety.

You held onto the dwarfling’s hand tight, not planning on losing him in the crowded space. Speed had been a difficulty now, so you did your best to manoeuvre through the crowd. A few questions were dropped about the cake and when it was being served, but you ignored their calls. The cake was yours. Well, yours and the boy’s.

“Y/N?” You heard Fili’s voice call out. You risked a quick glance over your shoulder and saw his confused face, the familiar mop of his brother’s hair not far behind.

“Shit.” You silently mumbled, now taking off quicker.

“Shit?” You heard the little boy wonder. Your eyes widened, though your pace did not fade.

“No, don’t say that. That’s a bad word.” You scolded, pulling him along.

“But you just said it.” He defended, his breath labored, but still he managed to keep up with you.

“It’s a bad word. Don’t say it again.” You nearly pleaded, turning around the corner. “Shit.” The boy challenged.

“Don’t say it or no more cake for you.” You threatened, though it no longer took him aback.

“I found the cake first.” Upon those words, you thought a while, simultaneously trying to find your way to your chambers too.

“Thin ice, sir.” You finally concluded.

As the crowds began to lessen, so did your certainty of reaching your chambers. These halls did no longer seem familiar, not even as you had wandered through them the entire day. Still, you did not want to upset the boy, so you kept on running. Until you eventually ended up in a dead end. You slowly came to a hold, the dwarfling stopping too. Behind you, the footsteps were still heard.

“Maybe we should just return the cake.” The boy sighed, defeated.

“No, don’t do that! I’m your accomplice now!” You shot back, turning back around.

“If we run fast enough, we can still make it.” You assured, but the boy looked at the floor in defeat.

“I’m tired of running.” He admitted, his eyes now lingering on yours. You nearly felt bad for him, but now cake was on the line and the footsteps were right around the corner.

“I can carry you. We must protect our cake.” You offered, kneeling down and offering your back to him. Just as the boy was about to step on, a figure appeared in the hallway.

“What are you two doing?” A familiar voice called.

The dwarfling quickly stepped in front of you, trying to protect both you and the cake. Or at least, that had been your train of thought.

“We stole a cake but we are running for so long and I’m tired, but please don’t tell amad.” The dwarfling said hurriedly. “She made me do it!” He ended, pointing towards you.

“Traitor!” You yelped, standing back up. Kili frowned at you as he neared the boy. He shot him a silent smile before approaching the bowl in your hand.

“You were gonna eat it without me, weren’t you?” He accused, looking back at you.

“Obviously. You eat cake as if it is the last thing keeping you alive.” You retorted, holding the bowl behind your back.

“I do not!” He defended, scoffing slightly.

“Yes, you do! Ask literally anyone!” You spoke as a matter of fact.

Another pair of footsteps suddenly approached, alerting all three of you.

“What do we do?” You asked the boy, ignoring Kili completely, shielding the cake from his eyes.

“Prince Kili can distract the cook.” The dwarfling concluded, hopping onto the back you offered to him again.

“You’re using me as decoy?” Kili gasped, looking at the boy in confusion.

“You’d make a good decoy.” You mumbled quietly, making sure the boy was secured on your back.

“I’m not sacrificing my last bit of dignity!” The prince tried, though he knew it was forfeit.

“Be our decoy or you don’t get cake.” The boy argued, causing you to let out a small chuckle. Kili send you a warning glare, but you just poked out your tongue at his disappointment.

“Fine.” Kili concluded, nodding at the dwarfling on your back.

“We’ll meet in our chambers. Don’t tell anyone.” You warned.

“Cross my heart.” He spoke truthfully, walking up to you and planting a quick kiss on your lips. A loud ‘ew’ was heard from behind you, but you just laughed at him.

As Kili disappeared around the corner, you waited to ensure the safety of you, the cake and the dwarfling. There was no other opportunity than to turn around and cross the hall on the other side of you, but the cook would see you. You would have to depend on Kili.

And as that thought crossed your mind, a loud crash was heard. You heard the cook swear and run the other direction. Whatever Kili had done, it had worked.

As you ran through the halls, familiarity finally started to hit again. You knew there halls. You were only two more halls away from your chambers. Turn after turn, you made sure no one saw you. Even the kindest dwarves could betray your position. No offense to Balin.

But as you finally reached your chambers, you all but kicked the door open, dropping the child from your back immediately.

“You took your sweet time.” You heard Kili say, who had already been seated in front of the hearth. A small scratch decorated his cheek, but beside that, he seemed fine.

“What did you do?” You asked, handing the bowl to the dwarfling, who was on his way to the carpet next to Kili.

“Being a decoy.” He spoke through a wink, standing up and walking towards you.

“What was that crash we heard earlier?” You questioned, holding his chin in one hand, turning his head so to inspect his cheek.

“I bumped into one of the candle holders. Nearly lit my hair on fire. Thankfully, it only scraped my face.” He stated as if it was nothing.

“You are the most reckless person I’ve ever met.” You mumbled, wiping the blood of with your sleeve.

“Thank you. My mom tells me every day.” Kili returned proudly.

“You’re interesting, Kili.” You admitted, letting go of his face. “And different.”

“Different?” He wondered, not sure what you meant by that.

“I like it, don’t worry.” You reassured, now grabbing his hands, squeezing them in comfort.

“So are you, darling. You stole cake from the royal cook. That is quite the accomplishment.” He praised, running his thumbs over the top of your hands.

“Learned it from the best.” You said, smiling up at him.

Before either of you knew it, Kili’s face loomed closer to yours, his breath fanning your face. Yet, something seemed to stop him.

“Still asking for permission?” You mumbled, though you did not necessarily found it a bad thing.

“Always am.” He whispered back.

Instead of giving him a verbal reply, one of your hands let go of his, instead culling his cheek and bringing his face closer to yours, finally uniting your lips. Even after all these years of being together, you did not miss the weightless feeling the kiss brought to your stomach. Your heartbeat could be felt from your throat, but it brought nothing but comfort.

Slowly, Kili let his free hand rest on the small of your back as his other one let go of your hand and held your biceps instead. Your free hand quickly found his neck, as if it had been natural. As Kili pulled you closer, you let yourself rest in his arms, letting the adrenaline of the chase fall down. All that mattered right now was Kili at your side. How he held you and how he managed to always return these way too familiar butterflies.

As the two of you broke apart, your forehead rested on his, trying to catch your breath. Your eyes had still been closed, not yet ready to come face to face with reality again.

“I love you.” Kili mumbled out of nowhere.

You smiled at his sudden words, before giving him a quick kiss in assurance.

“I love you too.” You returned, opening your eyes and looking into his.

“I love cake.” The dwarfling interrupted, his mouth filled with the earlier caught cake. Both your and Kili’s eyes widened at the sight of it.

“It’s not just for you!” You accused, dropping down beside the boy and grabbing a piece of the ruined cake yourself. Kili quickly sat down beside you, one hand winding itself around your waist, as his other reached for the cake too.

“This is great cake!” Kili spoke, his voice muffled through the full mouth.

“And completely ours!” The dwarfling returned happily.

“You know, there is another big meeting tomorrow I can sneak out of. Maybe there will be more cake.” Kili hinted, reaching for a next part.

The dwarfling gave no other response but a knowing smile and nod.

“Cake is good.” You said, catching onto his meaning. “Too good to leave for the rest of the guests.”

[respectfulkitfistosimp]

Vow to Peace

A Ahsoka Tano x reader fanfic PT1

The Jedi harbored many secrets, that was a surprise to no one, even after order 66 and the subsequent repurpose of the Temple into Palpatine's castle the deepest secret they held still remained sealed. The rumored ancient knowledge had reached a Togruta woman along with the legend of the Sith temple buried underneath her old home. She remembered how the legend of such a dark structure was spoken in secret by padawans the likes of how normal children would tell ghost stories to scare their friends, but Jedi were not supposed to feel fear, so telling that and other stories became a playful test between them, along with that one came another test, one given specifically to a youngling Ahsoka by her mates, they had dared her to ask master Mace Windu about the temple. Ahsoka had accepted it, and although she was slightly shaking she still approached Master Windu, even to this day Ahsoka could still remember the expression on his face followed by a low chuckle, Windu had told her that in time she would know in a low voice, then on a much louder tone he scolded her along with the others.

She got ready to depart to Coruscant, getting there on her own ship or with the help of any senator would be a bad idea, instead, she hid on a cargo ship and, once in the planet, easily approached the Imperial Palace. Once again she remembered her years as a padawan, how she would sneak in and out without being detected, this time it was going to be considerably harder to do so thought since she no longer fitted inside the ventilation system, but Ahsoka was too close to back down now, she had to find a way. A way that came almost to easily when she noticed the cargo of animals entering the Palace, her presence was concealed skilfully and the live animals on top of her ment that no scanners could detect her even if they were used, now what wasn't a surprise was the lack of effort from the security, presumably at the end of their shift, when she dropped her lightsaber, of course Ahsoka immediately grabbed it and kept it on a tight hold. On contrary to the outside, the inside of the Palace was almost deserted of any type of security, still she couldn't take any chances considering she had no idea where the entrance to the old temple was, she had no other choice but to disguise herself like a red guard, unfortunately their robes weren't made for togrutas or any other species that had montrals and lekku, meaning she had to be quick and with how the place was filled with the energy from the dark side it was impossible to guide herself with the Force. Ahsoka thought as much until she reached a door with a suffocating pressure, even if her instincts were telling her to run away her senses told her there was something else inside; something she was looking for. Entering thru the front door would be reckless, so she once again had to find how to get inside, at this point, she had spent a whole day inside of the Palace and every second Ahsoka was inside the possibility of getting caught grew bigger. This time she had to resolve to the ventilation system, even if she barely fit inside she still managed to enter the room, the guard's inside where no match to her, especially since she only had to knock out two, but opening the ominous doors was since it was only possible to do so with the Force, Ahsoka didn't want so use it since it meant that any Force user would be able to feel her, specially Dart Vader or Sidious, but she had already done so much to get inside that it would be stupid to go back. So she reached out to it with both her hands, opening doors with the Force was easy for her, but these one were heavy enough to a point were she had to reach deeper, she had to use more power than adviced and even when she opened them she had to squeeze thru them before they shut behind her.

The place was dark, even the light of her lightsaber so it only lit a couple of steps around her before everything sank in darkness, going down the stairs proved the easiest part of the challenge, for some unknown reason the dark side was stronger outside of the temple, but on the inside it was mild at best. Once on the end of the steps the darkness considerably lessened, Ahsoka reasoned that the feeling of eyes watching her was due to the dark side and the sounds was her mind responding to it, even when she saw shadows on the corner of her eyes she didn't suspect the possibility of anyone else inside, on the dusty steps there were no footprints and no one could withstand for long the exposure to the dark side before going crazy, not even her, so she had to be quick; get what she needed and leave before it was to late. In front of her stood a door, one laced with intricate designs and scriptures written in the old language the were impossible to read even if she wanted to, this door opened by itself to reveal to her a clean and well lit room, there was not a single spec of dust, it even had shelves filled with flimsiplast and even more strange, there were books, some looked to be centuries old and others looked like they were being actively written, it was the first time that Ahsoka had one so close to her, she reached out to one that had piqued her interest before a loud voice came from the darkness.

—Who goes there?—it sounded deep and came from no direction in particular, Ahsoka didn't inginte her lightsabers though.

—My name is Ahsoka Tano, I'm in search of ancient knowledge—she answered while looking around.

—Ahsoka Tano—the voice repeated—Are you a sith or a Jedi?

—Neither—Ahsoka ignited her sabers to prove a point, the sound of footsteps approaching behind her made her turn, you came out of the shadows, you wore Jedi robes and by the way they hanged off your body you were probably malnourished—What about you? Are you a Jedi or a sith?—she asked playfully, ignoring the sense of familiarity she felt from you.

—A Jedi, my name is (f/n)(l/n)—one of your hands was placed on your chest, the other one clinging to the collum beside you—I know you Ahsoka, we were padawans together.

Memories flooded Ahsoka's mind, she remembered you now, she remembered your playful matches and the time you two snuck out past bed time to look at the lights of Coruscant from above. Next she remembered how everyone bad mouthed you and your master, she couldn't recall why though. Still that didn't stop her from running at you and embracing you, Ahsoka felt you shake underneath her before your weak arms hugged her.

—I'm so happy to know that another Jedi is alive—before Ahsoka could answer you shushed her—you were the best of us, a true Jedi. Even if we drifted apart before the council expelled you I was so sad and disappointed to find out—no words came out of Ahsoka's mouth but you knew what she wanted to ask—On the day of the Purge I was in the Temple, I had felt bad all day before it happened so when the clones turned on us I reacted instantly.

You remembered vividly every part of that day. As soon as the first shots were fired you along with your master grabbed a bunch of younglings and hid them, given you superior speed and stealth you had asked your master to stay with the younglings so you could go out looking for more, even if you were fast you couldn't outrun blasters, so when your leg got caught on the crossfire running was no longer an option, if it wasn't because of the master that protected you while you escaped back to the room where your master and the younglings where you would have perished. Things got considerably worse when you noticed the arm sticking out of the room preventing the doors from closing, before you were even close you knew they were all dead and you would follow them if you had gotten near them. Hiding was your best option, escaping by land would be impossible with your leg, the same went with air because of the smoke coming from every port, you didn't want to hide, you wanted to fight, you didn't want to live with the burden of all of your friends, masters and younglings on your back, but dying wasn't an option either. Then you heard it, a deep voice calling you, guiding you to a room behind what you thought was a wall, inside, the doors that Ahsoka had gone thru opened themselves to you, back then the dark energy that came off of it was at an all time high, the voice urged you to come inside or die, so you walked in. The first year there were numerous times were you almost fell to the dark side and many more where the ghost of previous Sith Lords haunted you, whether they were trying to make you fall or not you appreciated their company and so did they, once they even let you in on a secret; the reason why not even the council could prevent the fall of the Jedi and who was the dark lord behind the war, needles to say you were beyond surprised it was the Chancellor, to you he had just seemed like any other politician but finding out that it was thanks to his ritual inside of this sacred place that everyone you knew had died you had felt the closest to slipping. You didn't though, instead you secluded yourself on your mind, on a constant state or meditation to cleanse the temple or at least lessen the ritual so that everyone with a gram of Force sensitivity could feel just how putrid he was inside.

Ahsoka stared at you and your right leg, or rather the lack of it. She was amazed that in all of this time no one had founded you, but after you told her your experience with this place her respect for you grew even bigger, then she remembered how she got in.

—We need to leave, I used the Force to get inside—she explained with urgency, grabbing your shoulders.

—It's okay, the carvings on the door make it so that only those who belong to the light side can enter—you explained to calm for comfort—Besides I can't leave, you have seen all the knowledge held in here, I'm in charge of keeping it safe.

Your smile creeped her out when paired with the sound of footsteps on top of the temple. Ahsoka was going to get you out no matter what.

—Why did we part?—Ahsoka asked.

—Oh, that—you said, you knew how she felt and why she had suddenly asked that—I made a vote of no violence when the war started—you had decided to humor her, moving to the table where years upon years of knowledge stood—I haven't broke it yet—you added.

—That's good—she answered, helping you with the books and flimsiplast—You guys were the strongest on the Force, everyone held grudges against you because of it—Ahsoka said with desperation, she wanted to get you out of here before they could get to you—You never left the temple right? How about you come with me?

You looked at her, seriously considering her offert, 'you had played it safe all of this time, why not go for the unknown now?' you thought, your thoughts being backed by the voice of old sith—But what about these books? All of this knowledge cannot fall on the emperor's hand.

—You have read them all, right?—Ahsoka asked, purely based on her gut, when you nodded she let out a sight—The we take those you consider the most important, the rest get's burnt.

It was reckless, not what you wanted but it was what needed to be done. Stars, you felt your heart beating on your chest at the thought.

—Let it all burn—you answered just as the door before the steps broke.

The light keeping you from the darkness of the temple moved towards the flammable pages of the books setting everything a blaze, it was truly a shame how such knowledge disappeared from the galaxy, but it was better than letting it fall on the hands of Palpatine. Ahsoka and you weren't the only ones who thought so, the ghost of those who had succumbed to the dark side binding you goodbye as you two escaped while the flames lit your way out, there were few Jedi who could make a friend out of the Sith, you were one of them.

[damn-stark]

My fault

Reiner Braun x reader

Requested by @rxvxr “i was wondering if you could do a reiner x fem!reader where they’re “enemies” but both have secret feelings for each other, and one day the reader gets really badly hurt by one of the other scouts and tries to hide it, but Reiner notices and asks “who did this to you?” and he’s like so unbelievably furious and she doesn’t think he would care and he just gets really angry at himself for not noticing her injury earlier and is like SO protective? sorry it’s so specific i’m just in a mood. thank you🥺🥰”

Warning- talks of blood and injury, fluff and swearing

———-

“Shit,” you hiss, “shit.” You roll down your pant leg over your bleeding wound and try to hide the fact that you had been hurt during the fight. There were more significant things to worry about instead of wounds you sustained while you had been a little reckless.

Instead you focus on your comrades barely managing to keep themselves awake, heaving and panting as they try to get on top of the wall.

You throw your hand out to grab a hold of Bertholdts, and struggle to pull him to the top. “Are you okay?” You question.

He nods whilst he lets you go and falls back to try and catch his breath. You turn back around and look down at Reiner to throw your hand out towards him. He doesn’t hesitate and wraps his hand around yours, trying to help you out by using some of the strength he had left to pull himself up as you helped him to the top of the wall. Once he’s safely secured on top, his hand unlike Bertholdts lingers around yours.

It’s a moment you let happen, even if you both had a complicated relationship and tended to argue a lot, even if sometimes you “hated” each other, you don’t pull your hand away. You enjoy the moment, let the warmth of his hand bask yours and bring comfort to your tired and panicked state as you look up to the clouded sky.

It’s not until a sharp, burning pain shoots through your leg and makes you pull your hand away to throw your body forward and briefly grab onto your wound, but stopping as you remind yourself that you had to keep this fact hidden for now. Instead you pretend that you had intended to stand up.

“What are we going to do now?” You wonder as you try to hide the strain in your voice. “Are we really going back home?”

“We have the Jaw Titan, that’s all we need now.” Reiner reminds you.

You scoff and keep yourself from trying to grab onto your wound. “Gone for five years, and we return with something we left with,” you sigh, “we’re going to die.”

“We have information we didn’t leave with,” Bertholdt tries to assure the group.

From the corner of your eyes you watch as the boys and Ymir sit up, they still struggle to control their breath, but you all felt much safer. Or as safe as you could feel here now that the Scouts knew your real identity.

“Beast should be here soon, rest up, we’ll most likely have hell to pay.” There was nowhere to go on top of the wall to hide, but you walked off far enough to feel as alone you could possibly be. Now you had time to deal with your bleeding and throbbing wound.

First you hastily made sure no one was looking at you, albeit that’s when you should’ve taken your time to actually make sure because when you turned away suddenly Reiner was next to you, casting a tall shadow over you that makes you freeze and pull your pant leg down in hopes he didn’t see your wound.

“Do you—”

“When did that happen?” He cut you off.

You avert your gaze and pull off the green cloak that was no longer any use to you to tear off two long pieces of its material. He regardlessly walks before you and demands an answer in a much louder, and angrier voice. “Who did this to you?!”

Your eyebrows furrow at the sound of his voice and you finally make yourself look up to him to give him an answer. “One of the Scouts.” You blink to look back down and continue cleaning your wound to attempt and wrap it the best you could until you could properly heal it. Seeing the shadow still over you, before hearing footsteps begin to quickly pace beside you. “What are you doing?”

“Why didn't you say something sooner?” He seethed.

You scoff and just shrug nonchalantly. “Because I didn’t want to worry anybody. Plus it’s not like I thought you cared.”

He suddenly stops and you feel his eyes burn into you. You continue cleaning your wound, hissing softly as it slightly stings. You didn’t expect him to say something, but you were proven wrong in that next moment because out of the anger you didn’t know he felt, he kicked an abandoned wooden box over the wall, causing you to snap your eyes over to him and fall silent and drop the guarded and angry act you carried around him. “It’s okay.” You hesitantly assure him.

“No,” he snapped back, “you could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known because I wasn’t paying attention!”

Your breath hitches and you feel as if your heart skips a beat, feel your face burn at the sound of his comment. There were moments where you did share your concern over one another, it wasn’t ever with words, but actions, those small vulnerable moments. It was in those times, like the one now, where you dropped all the “hostile” behavior towards him and let those true feelings you tucked away seep through.

Hiding them was a tacking thing, but it was better that way because if something were to happen no one would get hurt. No one would need to react like how he did now.

“It’s okay,” you assure him once you snap away from your train of thought. “I’m alive, and this will heal.”

“It’s not,” he argues whilst he swiftly turns around to face you. “I was reckless, I was foolish.”

“Stop.”

“I didn’t pay attention, it’s my fault.”

“Stop!” You exclaim as you jump to your feet out of frustration. “It wasn’t your fault, I was the one that hid that I was hurt, I didn’t tell you. I got hurt because I was reckless, not you. So please stop blaming yourself, just stop….” You pause and shoot him a pointed look that hid what you really expressed in your eyes. You wanted to play it off that you were angry, but knowing he was worried didn’t allow you to feel anything but touched, and happy; that was before the pain from your wound shot throughout your leg let you feel anything but pain in one moment from the next. Causing you to groan sharply and clutch onto your throbbing leg.

“Fuck.”

“Hey, be careful!”

“Yeah,” you sneer, “I know.”

Reiner walked closer to you and sat you back down, grabbing the cloths you had torn and not hesitating to continue doing what you had been trying to do.

“You don’t have to do that.”

He glances up at you and a soft blush paints on his cheeks. “Let me.” When he doesn’t hear you argue in return he quietly continues to wrap your wound so at least the bleeding would stop. Adding one more thing after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “I’ll do better next time, I’m sorry.”

Your eyes flicker over his face and a sigh leaves your lips, you pull your hand from your side and hesitate for a second before you cup his shoulder. “You saved us, you saved me from the Titans, and from the Scouts. None of us died because of you. You did great.”

Reiner’s light eyes lift to look at you, to share a speechless look while the corner of his lips twitch and his cheeks burn hotter. He clears his throat and doesn’t add anything to your comment but a slight scolding comment. “Just promise to be more careful next time.”

“I can’t promise,” you smile. “I'd be lying if I did.”

Reiner scoffs and finishes wrapping your leg to pull away, grabbing your arm to help you to your feet. “Does it feel better?”

“It hurts,” you exhale, “but at least the bleeding stopped.” You continue to hold onto him as he takes you back to your small group, feeling your smile widen at the warm feeling of his hands around your arms. You let yourself enjoy this small moment and don’t give into the “anger” you faked towards him. “Thank you for helping me.”

The corner of his lips tug slightly and he looks at you while you’re not paying attention to say, “always.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Do you think you would enjoy writing a fairytale-esque Nielan story? Except, instead of being the scary beast or the fearsome dragon like he usually is, it's Nie Mingjue who gets to be in the heroine/damsel's role. :D

Toxicity - part 1 - ao3

When Nie Mingjue turned sixteen years old, he was alone.

He had taken nothing with him but his saber, Baxia. He had hugged his brother maybe-goodbye, and then he had gone down into the saber tombs to wait to see if this was the year he was going to go insane.

He hoped it wasn’t, of course. They’d lost his father only the year before, murdered by one of their political enemies – poisoned with his own saber, secretly weakened so that it’d shatter in the middle of a night-hunt and coated with some sort of toxin that ate away his brain within a few months. If Nie Mingjue went insane this year, his little brother, Nie Huaisang, would need to step up as the leader of their sect, and he was only eight years old.

(He didn’t have to spend his eighth birthday shivering in the saber tombs that he hadn’t even known existed before that day, clutching a saber he barely knew, in pain and wondering if he was about to die, but then again, Nie Huaisang wasn’t the one who’d been cursed with a body that cultivated three times as well as everybody else but would eventually cause him to lose his mind when he turned some multiple of eight.)

If he didn’t go insane this year, Nie Mingjue would finally accept the role of sect leader officially, and he’d devote himself to making his sect as powerful as he could in the short time he had left to him. He’d been refusing the role so far, purportedly on account of his grief at his father’s death, and everyone had been very understanding – only those closest to him knew the truth. He would have preferred that Nie Huaisang not know, maybe not ever but definitely not so young, but if Nie Mingjue really did go insane this year then Nie Huaisang would have to be sect leader, or at least sect-leader-to-be with their uncle twice removed acting as sect leader until he was old enough to take charge, so he had to know.

He’d cried a lot before Nie Mingjue left, and there wasn’t anything Nie Mingjue could do about it other than spend a bit of his time in the cold saber tomb mentally cursing the ones that did this to him.

It was, he’d been informed, originally meant as a gift.

His parents had had trouble conceiving shortly after their marriage, all their pregnancies ending up as miscarriages, and rather than marry in a concubine his father, hotheaded and reckless, had taken his bride to the mountains to request help from the dragons that sometimes stayed there as they passed through Qinghe on their mysterious business.

There’d been two of them, apparently. One was a celestial dragon, blue and white as a sky at noon and just as noble, five-clawed and smooth-scaled; the other a lowly flood dragon, yellow-bellied and scuttling and stinking of earth – while the ways of dragons were mysterious, Nie Mingjue’s father had confidently asserted that the two of them were sworn brothers in the same way as men, the latter having once saved the life of the former, and that their brotherhood had once included as its chief the proud azure dragon of the east, green of scale and mightier than either of the others.

The celestial dragon had heard their plea and had been delighted to be asked. He had sung them a song of overwhelming might, filling their ears to the point that Nie Mingjue’s mother became half-deaf, and promised them that they would not only bear a child, but that it would be blessed with the strength of the heroes of the ancient days, so as to serve with honor his parents, his sect, his land, his world. He shall be righteous and unyielding, straightforward and upright, the celestial dragon had declared, and then, having exhausted himself in his exertions, had retreated to the top of the mountain to sleep.

The flood dragon had watched the whole proceeding with a pleasant smile on its face, nodding along in interest, but the very moment the celestial dragon had closed its eyes he had said, Let me give you something too and breathed out poisonous fumes that had choked them both nearly to death. With that pleasant smile still firmly on its lips, it had told them a secret: that the celestial dragon had given them a gift, but that all gifts had a price. Their child would be just like the heroes of old, a candle burning too fiercely – doomed to madness that would turn all his strength into destruction, rendered blind and unable to tell apart those he loved from those he hated, turned into a beast that knew nothing but slaughter.

But not to worry, the flood dragon said. While he did not have the strength of the celestial dragon, he had taken a little bit of their life energy and used it and his own poison to lock away the prophesied madness into one year in every eight, so that their child would be able to live free and carefree the rest of the time.

At the time, they had thanked him, but – Nie Mingjue’s mother had been so weakened by the poison that she had not survived his birth, his father rendered vulnerable to his neighbor’s underhanded attack, and far from living free and carefree Nie Mingjue lived instead in terror of his eventual fate, knowing that one day he would go mad in the worst sort of way.

Some gift!

Nie Mingjue spent his sixteenth birthday meditating in the saber tombs, his saber unsheathed on his lap in the likely vain hope that if he really did go insane, he would turn it against himself out of lack of any other enemy to butcher as his ancestors had once done to animals for trade. He remained there for two days and two nights, wracked with terrible gripping pain from the remnants of the flood dragon’s palliative poison, and emerged only once there was no trace of the date left and he had answered all the questions posed to him by the guards set at the door to the tombs to their satisfaction, proving that he hadn’t gone mad and didn’t need to be left inside to either kill himself or slowly starve to death.

His brother was waiting for him by the gate of their home and had thrown himself into his arms, weeping, and Nie Mingjue vowed to himself that he would use the next eight years of his life to let Nie Huaisang live the best life he could give him.

He did the best he could.

Nie Mingjue devoted himself to strengthening his sect, recruiting steadily and devoting all his time to sect matters, putting aside any frivolity; to each one who rose to a level of sufficient strength and trust, Nie Mingjue entrusted the duty of guarding Nie Huaisang, pleading with them that when he died they would put themselves into his shoes, care for him as any elder brother would. He made sure his borders were well-defended and well-stocked, layer after layer of protections in place in the event of external attack, building it so that it could shut tight like a turtle in its shell, hidden behind an implacable wall of iron. To deal with internal threats, he promoted people on the basis of talent, careful not to have either too many old retainers or too many new faces, wanting each group to watch the other to try to forestall the other.

He tried to strengthen Nie Huaisang himself, but he had much less success with that. Terrified as he was of lashing out against his loved ones, Nie Mingjue found himself yielding time and time again to all of Nie Huaisang’s requests, forgiving all his faults and mistakes, the only educational tools left to him being scolding and appeals to Nie Huaisang’s own good sense.

Still, Nie Huaisang grew up clever, if lazy and a mediocre cultivator, and there was darkness in his eyes when he spoke of dragons, a common artistic motif that never appeared in any of his art.

When Nie Mingjue was twenty three and Nie Huaisang fifteen, he sent letters to the reclusive Cloud Recesses, a sect hidden away in the mountains of Gusu that was renowned for its artistic achievements in music and painting as well as swordsmanship, asking for permission for Nie Huaisang to attend lessons that summer. They agreed, leading to a flock of other sects seeking similar permission lest the Nie sect use the opportunity to form an alliance without including them.

Nie Mingjue had only been trying to find a place where Nie Huaisang could learn skills that would suit him well, and also to keep him out of the growing tensions developing with the Wen sect that had killed his father and had made several attempts to kill him, too, that only failed on account of underestimating his cultivation and martial skills – an easy mistake to make, if you didn’t know his story – but having Nie Huaisang befriend the other sect heirs and shining talents of his generation could only help increase his security, so he approved.

When he came to drop Nie Huaisang off, though, he insisted, as regretfully and politely as he could, on hearing about the defenses they had in place.

“If you do not trust us to protect your brother, perhaps you should rethink sending him to us at all,” Lan Qiren said, voice sharp and querulous. He was the sect’s representative – not actually sect leader, but the one who left their reclusive abode to do the external parts of the job normally associated with leadership – and the teacher in charge of the visiting students, and Nie Mingjue did not want to offend him, but he also knew how insidious the Wen sect could be when they wanted. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unwilling to retract the demand but also not wanting to spoil Nie Huaisang’s visit before it had even begun.

“It is a reasonable request,” said a calm voice that nevertheless carried with it a hint of laughter from behind his back, and Nie Mingjue tensed, not having heard someone approach. “Let me show Sect Leader Nie around, uncle.”

Lan Qiren’s face softened at once, something Nie Mingjue had never seen happen on his face before; he stroked his beard and cleared his throat before nodding, saving face by allowing himself to be persuaded.

Nie Mingjue saluted and bowed deeply, murmuring, “My sincere thanks for your indulgence,” before turning to look at – the most beautiful young man he’d ever seen in his life, actually. Tall and slender, dressed in the Lan sect’s white and blue, with a xiao tucked into his belt and a gentle smile on his face and warmth in his eyes...

Nie Mingjue had to clear his throat himself before saluting him as well, although the young man hummed immediately in disapproval and caught him before he could bow. “Nie Mingjue,” he said. “Of Qinghe Nie. And you are…?”

“Lan Xichen,” the young man said, omitting even his sect affiliation – though that was obvious enough. “Come with me, I’ll show you the main defenses we have set in place, although not all of them, of course.”

“Naturally,” Nie Mingjue hurried to say. “I would never want to pry into your sect’s secrets, Lan-gongzi! It’s only – my younger brother…”

“You’re worried about him,” Lan Xichen said, his smile deepening. “I understand.”

Normally, Nie Mingjue would leave it at that – he was not overly given to speaking with people, but he couldn’t help himself in this case. “He’s all I have in the world,” he admitted. “And I know I can’t protect him forever, or even for very much longer, but…what I can do, I would do.”

“You don’t need to explain, Sect Leader Nie –”

“Please,” Nie Mingjue said gruffly. “Call me by name.”

“Then I insist you call me by mine,” Lan Xichen said.

Nie Mingjue nodded, and they walked in comfortable silence. After a while, he, again uncharacteristically, initiated conversation: “You called Teacher Lan uncle, and he seems especially fond of you, much more than most. Are you directly related?”

“Oh, yes,” Lan Xichen said. “I’m his – ah, his nephew.”

Nie Mingjue frowned. “Really? I thought that was Lan Wangji…?”

“My younger brother,” Lan Xichen said, and he looked so pleased that Nie Mingjue didn’t have it in him to question any further, even though he’d really thought that Lan Wangji was the sole sect heir.

Still, when they came across Lan Wangji himself a little later, he saluted them both and referred to Lan Xichen as ‘xiongzhang’ – formal, but then again, Lan Wangji was very formal in all things – with a minute change of expression that suggested adoration, even awe, and so Nie Mingjue told himself that perhaps he had been mistaken. Or perhaps he had simply misunderstood, perhaps Lan Wangji was only the acting sect heir for external affairs, in the same way that Lan Qiren was, or maybe Lan Xichen had simply been exempted from the line of inheritance for whatever reason…

Either way, it wasn’t really his business.

He certainly wasn’t going to bring it up in front of Lan Xichen, with whom he unexpectedly got along splendidly – the conversation flowed easily, ranging over all sorts of subjects, and Nie Mingjue felt comfortable as if he’d known the other man for years.

“We must have been brothers in a past life,” he told Lan Xichen, and noticed the way Lan Xichen’s eyes grew briefly distant and dim, a little sad.

“We must have been,” he agreed, and clasped Nie Mingjue’s hands in his. “Regardless, I do not have words to express how much joy it brings me to meet you again in this life, my friend.”

Nie Mingjue went home feeling as light as air.

He clung onto that feeling throughout his twenty-fourth birthday, when the pangs of the poison wracked his body into horrific spasms, his back arching and arms and legs thrashing and every vein and meridian in his body aching fit to burst; it hurt so much that he thought he really would go insane, but just when he thought it was too much the pain began to fade and he survived.

Still, the experience was a bitter reminder that no matter how much Nie Mingjue’s heart sang and mood brightened at every letter from Lan Xichen, no matter how much he looked forward to discussion conferences as much as he had previously despised them only for the chance to see him, they could never be anything more than friends.

Distant friends, even. Bad enough that he would cause Nie Huaisang so much pain when he died too young – it didn’t seem right to impose friendship on someone else who did not know.

Of course, thinking was one thing and enacting another, and Lan Xichen ignored every attempt he made to try away and put distance between them, visiting whenever he didn’t answer letters and refusing to be dissuaded when he tried to keep his responses curt and uninviting.

“Xichen, please,” Nie Mingjue said one evening, when they had been walking the ramparts in the Unclean Realm, he in his familial green and Lan Xichen in blue but both cast into equal shades of grey in the light of the moon, and he thought he’d never been happier in his life. “You don’t understand – I’m going to die, and you’ll be left behind. How can I do that to you?”

“Even if you died tomorrow, I would be happy to have been your friend today,” Lan Xichen declared, and Nie Mingjue wanted to kiss him more than anything. “Don’t push me away, Mingjue-xiong. Please.”

Nie Mingjue always yielded to those he loved most.

“All right,” he said with a sigh. “All right. Only promise me that you’ll stay safe, and that if – if I ever turn on you, or threaten you –”

“Remember that I can defend myself,” Lan Xichen said with a laugh. “Better than you might think. You aren’t nearly as bad at controlling your temper as you think, Mingjue-xiong.”

Nie Mingjue couldn’t explain more without explaining it all, and he didn’t want Lan Xichen to pity him, so he didn’t. They parted on good terms, with Nie Mingjue promising to return each correspondence as soon as he received them this time, and to let Lan Xichen know if he got any more “stupid ideas” from which he needed to be dissuaded.

The next letter arrived in the hands of a young man with a pleasant smile who introduced himself as Meng Yao.

“Xichen-xiong said that you valued talent and recognized merit,” he said. “I thought I might prevail on his recommendation, if you have room…?”

Nie Mingjue thought to himself with a smile that Lan Xichen had sent him a babysitter, and agreed to accept Meng Yao as a guest disciple. It didn’t take long to realize that Lan Xichen had sent him a treasure, brilliant at organizing and personnel management, wise beyond his years, and while he didn’t want to embarrass his friend by thanking him directly, he made sure to speak very highly of Meng Yao in all his letters.  Lan Xichen responded warmly, saying how happy he was that Nie Mingjue was surrounded by people he trusted who supported him, and Nie Mingjue thought to himself with satisfaction that his message had been understood.

[wyverian-lady525]

Imagine the reader having to descend via a rope and they just loop it around their leg and free fall for a bit before catching themselves using the same leg (if you can't imagine it, look up pole dancing tiktoks, you'll see what I mean) now being face to face with Kyle as he almost has a heart attack from watching them fall like that. He drops the tsundere act and scolds them for being reckless while the reader is grinning as this was a bet from his brothers to scare him, they expected a spook scare not a I'm going to go into cardiac arrest scare

Ha!😂 Try my best!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Heart Attack

You decide to, for once, accept a bet from Kyle’s brothers. His reaction is not quite what you expected.

“Ok. Let’s go.” Kyle said as he tied the rope sturdy and dropped it down a small ravine. You blinked as the frazzled snake descended into the abyss below. It wasn’t so far, but far enough that a fall would be dangerous.  

“I’ll go first.” Kyle stated while grabbing ahold of the rope. He secured it around his hands before wrapping his legs around the rope as well. Then he began to slowly and safely go down towards the ground below. 

As he made his way down, you watched with creeping dread. 

You see, you made a rather...unpleasant bet with his brothers. They wanted to scare him, and they were past the point of being able to do so. However, they knew that their little brother had one weakness: you. They figured if you’d be able to pull something off to scare him, in return they would quite the teasing for a week.

Win-win for everyone. Right?

However, you figured that the tsundere who was descending on the rope below you, could care less about the stuff that happens with you. So, you eyed the rope curiously, an idea forming in your head...

“Alright! Your turn!” Kyle called once his feet reached solid ground and he gave the rope a tug to make sure it was secure. Your little head popped over the side of the rocky cliffside and you gave the hunter a thumbs up. 

Kyle had his hands on his hips and tapped his foot impatiently as you slowly copied his hold on the rope. He rolled his eyes at how cautious you were being. After a good 5 minutes of you getting the perfect grip, you slowly inched your way down like a worm.

“I’m gonna be here all...” The hunter’s jaw soon dropped when he saw what happened next.

You let go of the rope. 

You were free falling in the air with only that one frazzled piece of rope wrapped around your leg. For a moment, Kyle thought he was watching you fall to your doom. You were diving, almost headfirst, towards solid ground. However, before you did (and before his heart stopped), you used your other leg to grab hold of the rope. Along with a slight hold of your hand, you slowed your descent until you safely plopped down on solid ground.

“I’ll be here all night.” You said with a slight bow as Tsukino (who magically appeared beside Kyle) began to clap with a wide grin on her face. 

“Well done Y/N!” The palico praised (yes, she knew about the bet). You just smiled at the praise.

“What is wrong with you?!” Kyle growled, balling his fists at his side. You and Tsukino just stared at him.

“You could’ve gotten hurt! You could’ve DIED! What would I have...”? He trailed off, running a hand through his blonde locks with a frustrated sigh. Tsukino had to walk away before she broke out in laughter. You just slowly began to grin.

“I mean, you almost gave me a heart attack! What is wrong with you?!” He shouted, with more worry this time, as he placed a hand over his heart. It was then that he noticed your grin that could put a melynx to shame.

“What?” He asked, still a bit in shock.

“Guess I win.” You stated while putting your hands on your hips.

“Win what?” Kyle asked again.

 “With Tsukino as my witness,” as you said this his palico appeared by your side with a grin of her own, “we shall be tease free for a week.”

“Huh?” Kyle was so lost. You and Tsukino just began to laugh before high fiving and walking back towards Lulucion. Kyle was still stunned, and it took him a couple seconds before he began to follow.

“I didn’t think he would freak out that badly.” You whispered to the felyne who merely nodded in agreement.

“I guess he does have one weakness.” The palico mused and you arched a brow as she grinned. You looked back towards the hunter in question, who was watching you like a hawk. 

You may have won a bet with his brothers, but you may have also won something else. Only time will tell.

For now, enjoy your one week of the swarm leaving you be.

[stargaze-issei]

— "𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞" (𝐛. 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; when your father, the head of the japanese mafia, was killed, your childhood friend swore to protect you till his death. now, you're the empress of the underground world, and he doesn't know what's harder, to keep you safe or manage to hide his feelings. what will he do when, for the first time, your life's at risk and he isn't anywhere near?

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; mafia!au, angst.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; swearing, mentions of blood, guns, murder, kidnap, yk... mafia stuff.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 2.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; lemme know if u want a part two bc i felt like it was getting too long and i don't know if anyone will read it or like it 👉🏻👈🏻

"where the fuck are you?" bakugou's voice stroke over the phone, noticeably angry. he had told you several times to never go anywhere without him, which you mostly did, if it weren't for him being away a lot of times. nothing less was expected from your right hand, who handled every dirty job, and considering your line of work, it wasn't scarce. but you did had other bodyguards, just as trained as katsuki, willing to give their lifes for you, which was extremely better than having bakugou giving his life.

to his eyes, you were still the little girl from before. he saw you as a someone who needed protection. at first, you agreed. your father was murdered, someone managed to get through all his security and killed him, none of the guns he and his security team carried around could protect him, killing you would be like stealing a sweet from a baby. bakugou had always kept you safe, despite his agressive usual safe, he cared about you more than he cared for himself. so you stuck to his side, believing, hoping, he'd die for you. but that was a long time ago, now, you could defend yourself, and had raised a sense of loyalty in your people by your own. your father's empire was based in fear, yours? by admiration. you didn't see your people as working ants, but as important parts of a whole. still, anyone who was a threat to you, bakugou made sure to erase them forever.

"don't talk to me like that, i'm your boss" you could feel him losing his shit, a smile began to form in your face. even when everyone respected you, he was still the same.

"you can't boss anyone if you're fucking dead, you dumb shit" a laugh came out of your throat, he couldn't avoid smiling at the sound "wait, oh, okay, i know we're you are. stay there, i'll be in three" he hung up before you could reply.

you looked back, at one of your guards who was just putting away his phone. of course they told him. why couldn't you go get your own coffee? being in the office all day was tiring, to be five minutes outside was all you asked for. a few seconds after, they handed you your coffee, obviously, a guard had to try it first, in case that barista wanted to suddenly murder you. of course he didn't.

"who let her go outside without me knowing, huh?" a furious katsuki appeared through the door, making a scene in the place. you gave him a warning look. if there was something you hated, was that. everyone in the area knew who you were, but why make it any more obvious. those people were just living their usual lifes, and people tend to get nervous around you. "the car is waiting outside" he understood, but you knew he was going to scold you anyways.

you walked outside, smiling, and got into the car, followed by katsuki and one of his subordinates, the other one got in the front sit, next to the driver.

"save it, i'm n–"

"the fuck you are" he cut you "your safety is my responsibility, if i say you can't go out without me, then you fucking don't. specially not when there are people after your head" there was no denying he was right, but still, it upset you.

"there's always people after my head, bakugou".

two weeks ago, two men went into your office. they were in charge of some dealing territories, though small, important. most contraband had to pass those places, you controlled those police departments making everything easier to your truck drivers. they were beaten, cover in blood and barely standing.

"our men, all of them... they all..." only one of them could talk, the other being too shocked to even look at you. "kazuhito's men, it was them... they said we had to tell you, they're coming after you" you couldn't show any fear in front of your so called soldiers, and your template remained at ease. a shout was enough to get those men the help they needed, after holding their hands, you promised to go see them once they were checked by doctors. you called bakugou as soon as they left, he was the first who should know and help you decide what to do next.

the kazuhito family had always been rivals, enemies of the worst kind. everyone suspect they were behind your father's assassination, but with no proof, even you knew it would be the biggest mistake to charge against them, despite your personal desires.

"i already told the drivers they had to take rout b for a while, but we can't let them just keep what's our" you explained to katsuki once he arrived. "those drugs have to get in town by us, damnit". it was clear how frustrated you were, those assholes had mess with your and your father's hardwork.

"if we retaliate, a war will unchain. your father tried to avoid that for years"

"and see how he ended up" bakugou didn't know if it was the anger, or you talking. "we will lose everyone's respect if we don't do something, they killed dozens of our people, katsuki".

he was trying hard to stay objective in that situation, but it was near impossible. a war would put you in more danger than ever, your life was at stake, and bakugou wasn't sure if he was willing to risk it. growing up by your side, your father taking him in when his parents died, you were his only family. more than that, he loved you. the only reason he was able to do his job right, was the fear of losing you. your head was already valued in millions, how could he protect you in the middle of a conflict, that would end only with your death or the kazuhito's leader's death? your power was bigger than theirs by little, but they did something that reckless, which meant they thought they had out powered you. had they? or were they just bluffing? had they miscalculated?.

"we're taking action, wether you support me or not" you looked into each other's eyes, you knew him enough to understand his fear, just not the reason behind it. your voice softened "but i'd much rather do it with you by my side".

"you're the boss" he spoke, already regretting it "i'll schedule a meeting so the high charges let everyone else know, i'm staying at your place so we can trace a plan".

and there you were now, being reprimanded by bakugou. he was extremely tired, he decided to stay with you until things were calmer, which could be several months from then. getting up at six a.m, going to sleep past midnight, being always looking for possible threats, it had given him bags under his eyes.

"i'm sorry" you said once you were alone with him, it was only then that you could let your guard down "i'm making this harder for you".

"yeah, you are. but it's my job, after all" that came out wrong, he thought. it wasn't his job, it was his fucking life purpose. he wanted you to live a long, happy life, as hard as it seemed.

"i guess it is" deep down, his response disappointed you.

"hey, look at me" out of nowhere, his body was insanely close to yours, you felt his breath in your face as he lifted your chin with his finger "there's nothing i wouldn't do for you, got that, dumbass?"

for a brief moment, the taste of his lips was all you could think about. i bet they're soft. but as fast as it started, it was over, katsuki pulled away harshly, inventing an excuse to leave. he had flown too close to the sun, so close that it burned his skin.

a few more people went to see you that day, asking for diverse permissions, advice and stuff like that. since it had been slow, compared to other times, you decided to home early. a call to your team, and the car was already outside. bakugou left instructions for your departure, because he had things to do somewhere else, much to his displeasure. you were accompanied by your escorts to the doors of the building, that seemed like a normal office compound. there were waiting two other guards, making a total of six people protecting you. way to go, bakugou.

"how's your wife, ryota?" you asked the driver. of course, not everyone fitted in the same car, so you got into the second one, middle seat, between a built up woman and a big man. you tried to remember everyone's name, but it was difficult.

"she's good, ma'am, sends her regards" he smiled at you over the mirror.

"and the baby? he must be a month old, right?" at the memory of his child, his face lightened "you should take some days off, i bet your wife and son miss you"

"i have a duty with you, m–" a loud impact interrupted him, the front glass had exploded. the car had an abrupt movement back and forward, all you could see was blood, everywhere.

the woman next to you took her gun out, in order to protect you , you thought, completely wrong. before everyone could react to her act, she shot the guard in front of you.  you looked at your side, searching for someone alive, the same bullet that had killed ryota was in the guard's at your right forehead. besides you , the only other person was that woman. if she hadn't glasses on, that stare could've seen throughout your soul. then you remembered, katsuki made you bare with a knife under your sleeve. with a weird move, you felt its sharpness against your skin, it was there, but she read you like a book. before you could even pull it out, another shot stroke followed by a intense pain in you thight. the bitch had shot you. you blamed it on the adrenaline, because nothing hurt. what happened after was a couple of blurry images in your memory.

bakugou had called you more than a hundred times, you, the drivers, the guards, everyone in his fucking team, but no one knew anything. the cameras at your house never showed you arriving, your phone's location was off. he was out of his head, if he didn't hear from you in the next five minutes, someone's going to die. he rushed into his car, following your rout at a dangerous speed. 

both cars were full of bullet holes, and every guard he had hired was dead. there wasn't a place without blood. tears of pure rage came to his eyes, fuck, it was his fault. he started to look for you, but the whole world was spinning around him. where were you? where was your body? were you alive?, this couldn't be happening. he had left you unprotected, alone, and now you could be dead, because of his uselessness. his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"sir, we– we have– the kazuhito's are here" he left as fast as he came. they had touch you, they had taken you away from him, and he wasn't going to let them get away with it, even if he had to go against a whole army, whoever was behind it all was going to pay.

a man in a suit was sitting in the chair of your office, smoking a cigarette, as calm as a rock. katsuki was so close to rip his head of right there, that somebody had to hold him down. his own people updated him, saying that he had gone into the building alone, with no weapons of any kind, not even a cellphone.

"where the fuck is she?" he crashed his hand against the desk.

"ah, mr. bakugou, please take a se–"

"tell me where she is right now if you want to keep your head, fucking bastard" his hand had wondered to the tip of the gun in his belt, menacing to blow up at any second.

"you won't do that, mr., if i don't return to my people in one hour, she'll be so fucked up that not even you will recognize her" a laugh surge grom bakugou, a dark, cold laugh.

"i don't have to kill you, then" one of the man's hand rested in the desk, like asking for katsuki to rip it off his body. as you did, he also carried knifes under his shirt. in less than a second, one of them was buried into the man's hand. he screamed, both in shock and pain, giving your bodyguard a hatred look. "what do you want, shitface?"

"i-it's quite simple, actually" his face was white as paper, and even though he wanted to talk normally, his voice shivered "we want you to take over the y/l/n's business, under our command of course" he let out a sigh, trying to keep his composure and ignoring his bleeding hand "if you– if you agree, she will have to leave japan and never..."

bakugou won't agree to that. not now and not ever. to give away what you and your father built from scratch, and spent decades keeping safe, was like killing your child, and your father's memory. to send you away, alone, where he most likely won't see you again in years, was also off the table. it wasn't funny anymore. he started walking around the man's chair, picking up his sleeves. he checked the clock in the office, he had forty-five minutes with the man, meaning, forty-five minutes to make him talk. he ressourced to every fast interrogation method he knew. the people outside the door weren't surprised when they heard the man's screams, even wondering what had taken so long for the boss to start acting. katsuki was never a patient man. his senses were blocked, he couldn't hear anything but screams and begging, all his eyes could see was pain through all the man's body, his hands felt nothing but warm blood. but for the first time in a while, he wasn't enjoying it. he was doing it out of need, the need to save you. every minute that went by, was a minute were your life risked. he never felt so close to losing his sanity.

"outside the city! she's in one of our safe houses outside the city! i don't know which, please stop!" ten minutes before the timeline he finally gave up. your intelligence had all their safe houses, storages, garages, every location needed. not a second passed when one of yours men delivered a map with all the points marked. there were five in total.

"throw him outside in ten minutes" he shouted, walking to the armory "two teams, six people each, my fucking people, hear me? now, dammit! we're leaving in a minute, if i have to go by my fucking self, i'll do it"

when he was armed to the teeth, almost a dozen of people followed him outside. they were his most trusted men and women, being trained together, he knew they were as skilled as him, and they were all willing to put their life's at stake for you, their boss. in the car, bakugou barked the instructions. he had narrowed it down to two possible locations with all the information he had. if they had to kill every person in those places, then be it. he's going to get you back.

[zelzenik]

all of her longing

prompts 19 & 20 of @zutaramonth 2021: hurt/comfort & longing

Three times Katara asks Zuko for a baby... and the first time Zuko says yes.

click here to read on ao3 or keep reading below the cut!

i.

“Zuko?” Katara whispers into the darkness. She flips onto her side, a few dark curls slipping over her shoulders.

It’s been almost an hour since Zuko dimmed the lights in their room with his bending and a single flick of his wrist. She can tell that he’s just about ready to drift off to sleep when he replies, “Yes, Katara?” His voice is a soft rasp as he shifts his position so that he can face her, reaching out and drawing her close.

Tucked securely beneath her husband’s chin, curled up against his warm body, Katara somehow finds the courage to admit, “Zuko… I think I want a baby.” She can feel the way his muscles tense as he registers what she said.

All of a sudden, Zuko’s more than awake. “What?” He pulls back slightly so that he can glance down at her, golden eyes earnestly searching her face.

“I want a baby,” Katara repeats, her brows furrowing.

Cupping her face with his hands, Zuko presses a kiss to her forehead, hiding a laugh, “Katara, we’ve been married for all of two weeks, and you want a baby?”

Katara isn’t joking, though. “We’ve been together for all of two years now, Zuko.” It’s true. Katara was only seventeen when she began courting the Fire Lord, and now, at nineteen, she finds herself married to him, sharing his bed and holding his tender heart in her careful hands.

“You’re… You’re not serious, Katara,” Zuko manages to choke out in reply. Upon realizing just how earnest on the matter she actually is, his golden eyes suddenly fill with an anxiety that she hasn’t seen from him in years. “I… Katara, it’s too soon for us to have children.”

In this moment, Katara knows that it’s better to drop it than press further. So she does, for her husband’s sake. She remains quiet, wrapping her arms around his bare waist, rubbing soothing circles into the small of his back.

Above all else, above her maternal instincts, above her deep desire to have children, Katara loves Zuko. And, when he hides his face in the crook of her neck, she holds him tightly, peppering kisses along his skin, whispering words of comfort for whatever pain that grips him in the dark of the night. “It’ll be okay, Zuko.”

ii.

“You’re quite distracted, Fire Lady Katara,” Zuko notes, his voice teasing. “Like what you see?”

They’re sparring in the courtyard, both sweating lightly from the pervasive Fire Nation humidity. Seamlessly gliding in and out of forms, they dance around each other in a way that’s unbelievably familiar but still manages to keep them on their toes.

With a coy smirk, Katara arches her back, narrowly avoiding a fiery kick to the face. “So what if I do?” She’s light on her feet as she launches herself away from him, pulling streams of water along behind her.

“I should hope you do,” Zuko replies, rolling his eyes lightly. He pursues her, though, just as he always has over the past five years.

Before they know it, their sparring is long forgotten as they tear down the hallway together with reckless abandon. By the time they reach their chambers, they’re both breathless, panting heavily as Zuko nearly shoves open the front door.

As soon as they’re both inside, Zuko shuts the door behind them, pinning Katara against a wall, hovering over her. The air grows thick with tension as he brushes her nose with his, broad arms caging her in on either side.

“Katara,” he murmurs, pressing kisses along her jawline. “Katara, I love you.”

Tipping her head back slightly, giving him better access to the soft skin of her neck, Katara allows her eyes to close, blissfully. “I love you, Zuko…”

The windows to their room are still open, and their skin glistens beneath the afternoon sun. Their limbs tangle, and Zuko’s fingers run along the curve of her waist, skimming beneath the blue fabric of her simple training tunic.

They’re a mess, really, but they’re a mess together.

Katara doesn’t mean to ask, but the question tumbles from her lips before she can stop it. “Zuko… What if we tried for a baby?”

This time, Zuko seems perfectly content pretending as though he didn’t hear her, far more interested in the bottom edge of her tunic than her question. He pushes her toward the bed and hovers over her, love shining in his eyes.

“Zuko?”

His eyes seem to shift back into focus as he meets her gaze. “Yes?”

“Can we try for a baby?” She asks, completely in earnest. “We’ve been married for several weeks now, and I just…”

Zuko sits up, pressing shaky fingers to his temples. “I… I don’t know, Katara. The council barely approved our marriage to begin with. I don’t know if springing a baby on them so soon would be wise.”

Rolling off the bed, Katara begins to rummage through their closet, looking for a fresh set of robes to change into, hiding her disappointment. “Yes… You’re… You’re probably right, Zuko. We can wait.”

iii.

There’s something very peaceful about the turtleduck pond that had once belonged to Zuko’s mother. Standing at the edge of the water, soft waves lapping at her bare ankles, Katara breathes in once, then twice.

After receiving several pointed comments from various members of the council regarding the current insecurity of Zuko’s line, Katara fled to the pond. Under normal circumstances, she would have snapped back at them in an instant, but now, she’s all too aware of the fact that she’s a nineteen year old girl that many of the more traditional council members believe to be merely a figurehead. Deep down, though, she’s also mindful of the fact that, in some regards, she agrees with them.

This is a subject that she and Zuko have spoken of on several occasions before getting married.

Children.

Really, after the sheer amount of conversations they had during their courtship regarding becoming parents one day, Katara would’ve expected a more positive reception from Zuko when discussing carrying on their family line. She thought that they were of one mind on this, that they’d look toward starting a family as soon as they were married.

But, no… They’re married, and Zuko’s shied away from the topic twice now, and Katara can’t bring herself to push him too far, too soon.

Kneeling beside the pond, Katara doesn’t pay the clods of mud and loose grass any mind as she trails her fingers along the surface of the water. A few turtleducks swim nearby, occasionally daring to quack in her general direction. The air is balmy, and she basks in the gentle warmth of the day.

“Katara?” Zuko appears beneath an archway leading toward the gardens. “I thought I’d find you here.” Then, he’s by her side in an instant, looking down on her kneeling form with concern. “I’ve scolded the council members who spoke out of turn soundly. They had no right to make such remarks toward you.”

Her lips twist into a frown. “I can fend for myself, Zuko.” She can. And she does, when the situation calls for it.

Zuko seems taken aback. “I know that… I just… I didn’t want them speaking of you in such a way.”

“Thank you,” Katara replies simply. “But while I disagree with their delivery and the methods by which they convey such a message, I can’t help but think that perhaps what they say has some merit.”

“You’re not some… harlot or concubine with whom I’m supposed to conceive children, Katara.” Zuko looks scandalized.

Katara’s temper flares as frost forms at her fingertips. “No. I’m not. I’m your wife. Your wife, Zuko.” She stands abruptly, water she doesn’t bother to bend away dripping from her robes. “We spoke about children before getting married, and Dad and Iroh aren’t getting any younger, and we have the security of a nation to think of, and… I was under the impression that we… that we weren’t going to waste any more time.”

“Waste any more time?” Zuko repeats, hurt clouding his eyes. “How is any moment I spend with you a waste of time?” He stumbles backward, nearly tripping on his long robes.

Almost instantly, Katara’s anger dissipates. The surface of the water toward the edges of the pond have begun to crackle with ice, but she steps away from it before she causes any further damage, turtleducks quacking indignantly. “Zuko…” She reaches for her husband, gripping his warm hands in her freezing ones. “I didn’t mean it that way…”

Zuko stands rooted to the ground in silence, allowing her to trace his palms with her thumbs.

Then, Katara reaches out to tug her husband into her arms, not bothering to heed her drenched robes. “Zuko, I love you.” She rests her head against his chest, hoping that the tears glistening along her lashes go unnoticed. “We can talk about this some other time.”

iv.

“Katara?” Zuko lingers just outside of her study, a hand resting on the doorframe.

Fingers stained with ink, her hair piled atop her head in a way that’s likely quite unfitting for a Fire Lady, Katara lifts her head, meeting her husband’s gaze. “Yes, Zuko?”

He steps into the room uncertainly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder as he stands by her side. “Are you… Are you feeling okay?”

Forgetting that she’s covered in ink, Katara pinches the bridge of her nose lightly. “Of course.” She’s buried in paperwork and notices and letters, and she’s very likely overworking herself, but she’s also happy, helping others, serving Zuko’s people and, by extension, her own.

A ragged sigh slips from Zuko’s lips as he tugs an empty chair forward so that he can sit beside her. “Katara… I’ve given everything a lot of thought, and I think that I’m finally ready to talk.”

“To talk?” Katara repeats, her brows furrowing. “Talk about what?”

Zuko dips her brush back in its ink well and scoots her parchments across the table. “Children.”

Instantly, Katara’s eyes fill with worry. “We don’t have to – Really. Not until you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Katara,” Zuko replies, his voice a light rasp. “But I think that I am ready, now.”

So, Katara stills her body and gives him her full attention, correspondence and paperwork long forgotten.

“I’m… scared.” Zuko’s confession is soft enough that she almost doesn’t catch it the first time. “I’m really scared.” He clarifies, “I’m scared to have children. You know as well as anybody that I don’t really give a damn about what the council says, as long as they’re not hurting you or our people. But I’ve been using them as an excuse because I haven’t been sure of how to explain this to you.”

Carding his hands through his hair, Zuko unties his topknot, dropping his Fire Lord’s crest onto her desk. “I love you, Katara, and I’m sorry that I haven’t been more clear about how I feel or what I’m thinking.” He hangs his head, suddenly looking less like a twenty one year old man and more like a sixteen year old boy. “When we’d spoken about children in the past, it had always felt so distant, so far away in the future.”

Zuko continues, “But now the council’s pressuring us for an heir, and we’ve only been married for a month or two, and I guess I wasn’t expecting for everything to happen so fast.” He steals a glance at her when he thinks she’s not looking. “I don’t want to be like my father, Katara.”

And suddenly, it all makes sense.

“I don’t want to be like my father,” Zuko repeats again, stronger and with more conviction. “The thought of having children scares me because I don’t know who I’ll become with them around or who they’ll become with me as a dad.” He laughs bitterly, “I’ve always known that you would make a wonderful mother, Katara. I just didn’t have confidence that I would be a good father.”

Katara softens, opening her arms so that he can collapse lightly against her. “Zuko… I’m sorry for all the times in the past where I’ve pushed you.” She drops his gaze. “I had no idea.” Running her fingers through his messy hair, she presses a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for sharing this with me… And, for what it’s worth, I think you’ll be a wonderful father one day.”

“I think so too,” Zuko agrees in a whisper, as though saying it too loud will cause it not to come true. Then, he flicks his gaze from her eyes to her lips and back again. “Hey… Katara. Ask me again.”

“What?” She nearly laughs, tugging him even closer.

Zuko’s expression shifts, the features of his face softening with joy. “Ask me if we can have a baby.” He pulls her onto his lap, allowing their limbs to tangle despite their heavy robes.

It’s as though the wind’s been knocked out of her. “Can we have a baby, Zuko?”

“Let’s have a baby, Katara.” Zuko surges forward to kiss her again, and they’re both nearly delirious with happiness. “I’m ready now… We can have a baby,” he whispers.

And those are the sweetest words Katara’s ever heard.

[maxineswritingcenter]

The Little Mermaid AU! - Sam x fem!reader part 2

Haha, nothing like procrastinating

Here’s part 1 as a refresher to whatever the hell I’m doing. 

------------------

(Y/N) slowly peaked her head out of the water, searching for treasures left behind. She had found a few things, including her new prized possession. It reminded her or her father's trident but had four of the pointy things instead of three.

To her right, a fish rubbed up against her side.

"Flounder, there you are." She smiled, running her fingers softly over his scales. She produced the fork from her sack she wore, "Look at this? Isn't it cool? I've seen the humans use these to brush their head hair. Or... It looked like that's what they were using. I'm gonna call it a dingle hopper."

Her fish friend look at her, then back toward deeper water, "Uhh, (Y/N)..."

"What is it?" She thought, trying to remember if she had anything to do today, "Oh no. Oh No!" She started swimming back towards her home, Flounder hot on her heels, "The ceremony!"

-

(Y/N) swam through the curtain to the throne room where her father at in his throne, flanked by her sisters.

"Well, look who the catfish dragged in." Pallas spat.

Ignoring her sister, (Y/N) bowed her head, "Father, I'm so sorry. I forgot-"

"Young lady, as a result of your behavior-" Father began.

"Reckless behavior!" The royal advisor crab, Sebastian piped in.

"The whole ceremony-"

"Was a disaster! I was the laughing stock of the reef!" Sebastian clicked.

"Sebastian."

"I had a courtship planned with the prince of the Arabian see but I dropped it all for you!" Triteia shouted.

"No wonder we were mother's favorites!" Pallas sneered.

"Enough!" Triton struck his trident on the ground, silencing the chatter. He moved him thrown to where she was, head still bowed. He lifted it up gently.

"My sweet child, you have such an amazing gift."

"I know," She sighed, meeting his eyes, "I have mother's voice."

"Then please, for her memory's sake."

"Alright, father. I promise." She smiled softly.

"It wasn't her fault really." Flouder bubbled up, "She couldn't have heard the call horns from shore-" He quickly shut his mouth, realizing what he had said.

"The shore?!" Triton bellowed.

"Nothing happened." (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers.

"How many times must I tell you?” Triton boomed, “You could have been seen by those barbaric humans!” 

“Father, they’re not barbaric!” 

“They are dangerous. I will be long gone in the muck before I see my youngest daughter snared by some fisher-eater’s hook.” Triton crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I am not a child!” She called back. 

“Don’t you use that tone with me, young lady. As long as you live in this ocean, you’ll obey my rules.” He turned to go back to the throne. 

“But, if you would just listen-” 

“Not another word - and I am never, NEVER to hear of you going to the surface again. Is that clear?” He didn’t even look at her, just tossing a glance over his shoulder. Tears pooled up in her eyes, she swam out of the throne room. Flounder came up behind her.  They both swam all the way to her secret cave where she had started collecting her human treasures. 

‘Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Flounder asked. 

She shook her head, “If only I could make him understand.” She sniffled, “I just don’t see things the way he does. I don’t see how a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad.” She swam to one of her shelves, motioning to the various items. 

“I mean, look at this stuff. Isn’t it neat?” She swept her arms out, “Look at this trove, treasures untold. How many wonders can this cavern hold? Looking around here you’re probably think that I have everything that I would need. I’ve got gadgets, gizmos, whozits, whatzits. And thingamabobs, I must have twenty of those. But, I want more.” She grabbed a flimsy thin thing that had colored art of people near the beach. 

“I wanna be where the people are. I wanna see them dancing. Walking around on those...feet. Feet. Flipping my fins, I won’t get too far.” She motioned to her tail, “Legs are required for jumping, dancing, walking along down the...what was it? Ah, the street. Up where they walk, run, stay all day in the sun. Wandering free, I wish I could be part of that world.”

She sighed, “What I would give if I could live out of these waters. What I would pay to spend a day warm on the sand. And I betcha on land they understand, bet they don’t reprimand their daughters. Bright young women, sick of swimming and ready to stand.” Flounder only watched her rant, following her around the cave. 

“I’m ready to know what the people know. Ask them my questions and get some answers. Like what’s a fire and why does it...does...burn. I just wish I could be part of the human world.” She sighed, resting on a large rock. 

Suddenly a large crashing brought both of their attention to Sebastian who was scuttling around the cave. 

“Sebastian!?” They both shouted. 

“(Y/N), have you gone mad? How-what-what is all this?” He clicked. 

“It’s my collection. Of things.” She said.

“Ah your collection. Hmm.” He thought a moment, “IF YOUR FATHER KNEW ABOUT THIS HE’D-”

“You’re not gonna tell him are you?” Flounder swam up to Sebastian. 

“Oh please, Sebastian. He would never understand.” She pleaded. 

“Your highness. You are under a lot of pressure down here. Come with me, I’ll take you home and get you something to help you feel better.” As he said this, the cave went black, meaning a ship was passing overhead. With an excited giggle, she started her way up towards the surface, Flounder followed while Sebastian called after her. She swam up until she was looking across the floor of the ship. It seemed the humans were having a little party. They were laughing and music was playing. One of these men was the most handsome creature she had ever seen. He was tall, his hair was longer and a brown color. He had the kindest looking smile. 

A short man with shorter came up to the tall man. 

“Congrats, First mate.” He chuckled, patting his back, Here, I wanted to show you this.” 

The tall man took the picture, “The woman and white case. First picture of our first hunt together. Thanks.” 

“No problem. Bitch.” 

“Jerk.” He chuckled. That must be his name. Bitch. It sounded cool.

From up above, the sky grew dark and thunder rumbled in the sky. 

“SEA STORM! STAND FAST! SECURE THE RIGGING!” One of the man shouted. (Y/N) and Flounder swam a ways from the ship, the violent thrashing of the waves was too dangerous to be around.

-

 A large wave crashed into the ship, causing the Dean to loose his footing, falling and sliding across the deck, holding onto the bars of the ship top. 

“Dean! Hang on!” The Sam shouted over the wind. 

“WE’RE GOIN DOWN, LADS! GET TO THE BOATS!” The sailors made their way to the boats. Sam went to follow, but his life line to the mast was tangle around his feet. 

“I’m stuck!” He called, but the rest of the sailors had gotten to the life boats. 

“SAM!” Dean called. He was about to call back his brother’s name but the tallest wave he had ever seen crashed down on the ship, plunging him down into the depths. 

(Y/N) watched the ship go down, “Oh no!” She dived down, Flounder calling to her. 

“It’s too dangerous!” He bubbles fell on deaf ears as she swam down into the wreck, seeing the tall man. His eyes were closed and little bubbles came from his lips. She grabbed the sharp silver stick from his belt cutting the rope, grabbing him under his arms and pulling him towards the surface. When they broke the surface, she pulled him all the way into shore, laying him on the beach. The storm had gone as quickly as it came. 

(Y/N) looked over him, brushing wet hair from his face. He looked so peaceful. He suddenly turned his head to the side, coughing up water loudly, taking deep gulping breathes. She pulled away, then came back when he was back on his back, he eyes still closed. 

“Oh what I would give to live where you are. What would I pay to stay here besides you. What do I do to see you smile? Just you and me and I could be part of your world.” She spoke softly, tracing his face.  

-

Sam slowly opened his eyes a bit, the bright sun making it too hard to see. He could see the outline of someone above him. He could hear a soft, sweet voice humming, the same song that he had heard earlier that day. 

“Sam!” He heard a voice in the distance, the person above him looked in the direction and quickly moving away, followed by a splash in the water. He heard footsteps approaching, Dean kneeling down next to him. 

“Sam! Sam, can you hear me?!” Sam opened his eyes a little more. 

“Yeah, I can hear you. Loud and clear.” 

“You almost gave a heart attack, you know that?” It had been a while since Dean scolded him. 

“There was a girl. She rescued me.” Sam panted, happy to feel the air in his lungs, “She was singing.” 

“Did you drink too much sea water?” Dean raised an eyebrow at him, “Come on, up you go big guy.” Dean helped Sam to his feet, helping him back towards the others while medical helped arrived. 

- 

(Y/N) watched them from behind a stone, Flounder and Sebastian at her sides.

“We just gotta forget this whole thing ever happened. The sea king will never know. You won’t tell him, I won’t tell him. I stay in one piece.” He clicked, snapping his claws nervously. 

“I don’t know when, I don’t know how.” She clutched the photo of the two humans to her chest, “But I know something’s starting right now. Watch and you’ll see. Someday I’ll be part of your world.” She said to herself, following after the crustacean. What she didn’t see, however, were the two eels that had been following and watching them. 

--------------------------------------

I definitely didn’t only now just make the sequel for this AU it’s fine. I think I’m afraid that these will never be as good as Beauty and the Beast AU

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated! 

Taglist: 

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

@tranzfred

@vicmc624

@ria132love

@lilulo-12

@teenwaywardasgardian

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@mikrokosmicjoon

@calaofnoldor

[wackybuddiemewbs]

Random Buddie Fic Snippets - Shadow

AKA, it's me, back on my regular bullshit. This is part of a fic that continues to ghost through my Word files, mocking me relentlessly. And now I pass the mocking on. Bon appétit. Basic idea is that Buck disappeared after the lawsuit without a trace. For mysterious reasons.

Eddie breaks into a run the moment he parks the car. He still can’t believe it that some asshole tried to blow himself up on a plaza in bright daylight, the same plaza Chris and his friend from school went to on exactly that day. His ears had been glued to the radio throughout the drive as he got announcement after announcement, one more horrifying than the other.

“The man has a bomb belt.”

“He has taken a hostage.”

“A young woman.”

“Special forces have been blocked due to traffic.”

“A man stepped in.”

“They struggle. There is a knife.”

“There is blood.”

“Both men are going down.”

Eddie shakes those thoughts off, pushes them as far back as he possibly can as he runs through the masses of people gathered around the plaza. Because apparently, even a guy with a bomb strapped to his chest will get peoples’ attention more than it will get their survival instincts to run the hell away from a bomb.

He runs into Deborah, the mom of Christopher’s friend, nearly misses her, then halts. His ears are whooshing, his heart is pounding so hard he can feel it in his throat. She keeps rambling on about stuff he doesn’t care about. And if he wasn’t a first responder who knows better, Eddie would want to shake her right now to just say it straight: Where is Christopher? Is he okay? Because that’s the info he needs to know how to get his feet to work again.

If this were Buck, I’d have all info in the first three seconds of…

Eddie stops himself. Buck is no longer with them. He left, which is why his son is at the plaza with Deborah and her two kids rambling on.

At last, at last, between the many sorrys, Deborah can finally bring herself to say that Christopher is fine, which makes even less sense to Eddie. Because if he was fine, then why wasn’t he with her? Isn’t she supposed to be watching him?

“He’s by the ambulances. He wouldn’t leave.”

Eddie isn’t sure he says something in reply to Deborah before he starts running again, though he reckons she won’t hold it against him. Even if she does, he doesn’t bother to care. Eddie needs to get to his son. Maybe Christopher was hoping to see some familiar faces. Maybe he’s waiting for his dad to jump out of one of the trucks.

Eddie can finally slip through the onlookers to the ambulances. Just as he takes off running again, he can hear Christopher shouting shrilly. While his son screaming is not exactly calming, it makes Eddie breathe a little easier. He is alive. He can hear him. Everything else, he can fix.

Eventually, Eddie finds his son sitting on top of a gurney halfway rolled into the back of one of the ambulance cars. Next to him stands a very frustrated paramedic, trying to reason with Christopher to climb off the gurney and let go of the someone actually lying on the gurney. Though Christopher holds on as if his life depended on it.

What is going on here?

“Christopher!” he shouts as he approaches.

The paramedic turns around as he sees him come near. “Hey, you are from the 118, right?”

“Yes, Eddie Diaz,” he confirms. “That’s my son. Is he okay?”

“He is fine, he just won’t let me load up the guy I’m supposed to take to the hospital,” the paramedic laments, pointing at his son holding on to the person’s lower leg like a little monkey to a tree branch.

“Christopher! I”

“Dad!”

“I told you that you can’t be in the way of paramedics working! They got to help people who are hurt,” Eddie says. While he doesn’t want to upset his son, he knows that there is due order, and Christopher is disrupting it.

Eddie motions past the opened door of the ambulance car.

“I am not letting go of Buck!”

Buck?

Eddie blinks, tears his gaze up, forgets how to breathe all over again.

“Hi, Eddie.”

“Buck.”

Buck is on the gurney, shirt cut open, his side bandaged, seeping some blood. The guy who went in after the bomber took the hostage – Evan Buckley. His former colleague, former best friend, the guy who’d told him instantly if Christopher was okay, who never would have left him out of sight – until he did. The man who disappeared after the lawsuit. The man he hasn’t seen in over a year.

He can tell that this is actually Buck. Just that it isn’t. He looks nothing like the always cheery, smiling guy who lit up any room he entered. Sure, the face is still the same, Eddie would know that birthmark anywhere. And yet… there is no spark to his blue eyes. His hair is cut as short as it will go. Eddie can tell that he has even more muscle to him than he used to, even before the firetruck exploded and he was in top shape. But what makes it so much worse is to see the distance, the way he can’t seem to hold on to Christopher but tries to gently keep him away. Because nothing in this world would prevent him from letting that kid close to him.

At least we all thought. But that man is full of surprises, we learned. Even more so now.

This is Even Buckley, but he looks like a strange version of himself dropped off in the wrong universe.

Like a ghost.

Like the ghost Chimney said he saw in that burning building the other day.

Could it be…?

“Could you please talk to your son?” the paramedic interjects, pulling Eddie out of his thoughts abruptly. “I get he’s scared for your friend, but we can finally get moving again after the traffic was re-navigated and he needs to go the hospital.”

“I already told you that the guy didn’t hit anything vital, Jack,” Buck scoffs. Normally, Eddie would say that this is Buck as he knows him, but there is that edge in his voice all of a sudden that puts him on that same edge. The words come out just the same way, the voice is the same, but they ring hollow, they never make it to his eyes.

“He knifed you, dude.”

“I used to like you until a hot second ago, man.”

“Buck?” Eddie asks simply. The younger man’s eyes instantly flicker back to him, and Eddie can see his sudden discomfort as he bows his head.

“For the love of God, either you take your son, or you take him inside so we can drive!” Jack shouts.

“We’re going with you, Buck!” Christopher screams, holding on even tighter.

Eddie decides right at that moment. Okay, he doesn’t really. His body does as he grabs Christopher and gets him off Buck’s leg under much protest. Jack loads Buck inside – and then Eddie climbs in with Christopher in his arms right after. He ignores the protests coming from buck all the same.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Jack groans, setting everything up.

“Language,” Buck scolds. “There’s a kid here. Also, you just turned out to be my least favorite paramedic, Jack. Just so that you know.”

“I’m not here to make friends,” Jack says as he slams the door shut.

“With that attitude, you are sure as hell ain’t getting any,” Buck shouts after him.

“We are ready to roll!” Jack calls out, tapping his hand on the side of the car as he makes his way to the front.

“You know you’re just making a fool of yourself, dragging a guy to hospital, even though all you’d have to do is disinfect and stitch, yeah?” Buck tries to reason, but Jack isn’t having it, “Not taking any chances.”

“Coward.”

“Buck,” Eddie tries again. It seems to be a little magic trick, as Buck’s attention instantly return to him. Though it’s a piss-poor magic trick, really. Because Buck won’t even look at him. Can’t, for some reason. Instead, he keeps his head fixed on some of the equipment on the other side of the ambulance.

“Trust me, I didn’t plan on this,” he says feebly, some of the tough masquerade momentarily slipping.

“How are you in LA?” Eddie wants to know. He can see the shift in Buck instantly as he rounds his shoulders. “Plane.”

“Will you at least look at me?”

Buck turns his head. Eddie tries to read the emotions, but it’s like he gets the door shut in his face before he can take a look inside. And that even though they used to know each other so well.

How did we come to this?

“Buck, we haven’t see you or heard from you for over a year,” Eddie tries to reason. “Some more information than having come here by plane would be appreciated.”

“As I said, didn’t plan on this. Though of course I’m always happy to see Chris…,” Buck says, managing the smallest of smiles at Chris still snuck in his father’s arms. “Though I would have hoped for… different circumstances.”

“So you wanted to come see us?” Eddie asks.

Buck doesn’t answer, which is answer enough for Eddie.

“What were you thinking, going after that guy anyway?” Eddie can’t help but ask.

Buck shrugs at him. “Just had to. Will say though, that he brought a knife to a bomb fight came as a surprise. Thankfully, he was just as surprised to me bringing fists to a knife fight.”

“Why are you being that reckless, huh?” Eddie can’t help but scold. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“Yeah, or I could’ve watched as anything within a periphery of half a mile would’ve blown up,” Buck retorts. “Easy equation to my mind, really.”

It shouldn’t be that easy, though, Eddie thinks to himself bitterly, but he doesn’t say it. He has a million questions, but they won’t come. Because he knows Buck won’t give those answers. There is a wall between them that wasn’t there before, not even when Eddie was overcome with so much anger over Buck’s behavior about the lawsuit.

So he just sits back, makes sure that Christopher stays secure in his arms.

Once they arrive at the hospital, things set back into motion fast. Buck has a small moment of victory when he’s getting wheeled inside, arguing that Eddie won’t get the doctors to let him pester him like Jack did.

Joke’s on Buck in the end when Eddie talks to the receptionist because he forgot to update his emergency contact list, in which Eddie is very much included.

“See you in a bit, Buck!” is all he says as Buck is wheeled away.

And Buck shows him the finger as he is taken away, well aware that Christopher can’t see as he is resting against Eddie’s chest.

After that, Eddie makes himself not at all comfortable in the plastic chairs he loathes with a burning passion. He gets out his phone, hoping that he can get through to Maddie at least. Maybe she will have more luck trying to give Buck a piece of mind, but as he checks his phone, there is no signal. No calls, no internet. Looking around, he can see that the same issue applies to many people waiting – and the staff as well.

While Eddie still doesn’t believe in all-powerful universes, he will have to say: Well played, universe.

An hour later, Eddie is none the wiser and Christopher asleep next to him in the small room they were brought to, as this will be where Buck is supposed to come back to after his tests and examinations are finally over.

Christopher could provide at least some context to how they ended up like this. The kid is too smart for his own good at times, it turns out. He caught sight of Buck when he took on the bomber and saw that he got hurt. And since hurt people go to ambulances where people like his dad save them and make them better, this is to where he went. And he would threaten Deborah with his crutches, which Eddie will have to lecture about later. Once he found Buck, he just crawled up the gurney and didn’t take no for an answer.

Another fifteen minutes later, Buck is wheeled into the room, looking tired and pissed and just a bit more like the guy he remembers, the man who hates being in hospitals with every fiber of his being.

For a time, they just sit in silence. It is Buck who can’t take it anymore in the end, and snaps, “You can stop staring. I already have a puncture wound, don’t need to get stabbed by the evil eye now, too.”

Eddie shakes his head. “How are you still joking about this?”

“Because I still find myself utterly hilarious.”

“We didn’t know where you were for over a year. No message. No nothing,” Eddie accuses.

You disappeared. You left. You left the 118 behind. You left your family behind. Maddie. Christopher… me…

“And that you know I’m in LA right now was not part of the plan, I told you.”

“Why wasn’t it?” Eddie wants to know.

Buck shrugs, his voice non-committal. “I made the cut. I’m the bad guy. I know. Rules of the game.”

“I’m just trying to understand, Buck.”

“There’s nothing to understand,” Buck argues. “I had no intention to run into you guys. I went away. I didn’t want to cause further upset by coming back. I didn’t choose to be here. It was because of the job.”

Speaking of…

“What job is that anyway?”

“Water slide tester,” Buck replies, his face perfectly blank.

Eddie snorts, shaking his head. “Piss off.”

“I slide around the world.”

“Would you take this seriously for one second?” Eddie demands. He can’t believe this guy sometimes, many times. Can’t he see the damage done? Can’t he see how out of line it is to joke about it?

“I think I’ll pass,” is all Buck delivers. And it pisses Eddie off to no end.

“So that’s all I get? After all that’s been?”

Buck licks his lips, folds his arms over his chest, winces at the strain against his aching stomach. “Yup.”

Eddie can’t even say he is angry. Okay, he is angry, but one good look at Buck’s face and he can see how the mask is slipping. He sees pain there, thinly veiled by his quipping. He notices the longing in Buck’s eyes whenever he allows himself to look at Christopher dozing peacefully, only to pull away as though he got electrocuted for letting that emotion happen.

Just what is it with the man he used to know so well? How could they become strangers in the course of a year?

Eddie doesn't get to finish the thought as a doctor motions inside. Buck’s attention instantly bounces over to the dark-haired man.

“Hello Mr. Buckley.”

“What’s the news, Doc?” he asks.

“Good news for you, actually,” the doctor says. “You are free to go.”

Eddie shakes his head, as though he was trying to get water out of his ears. “Wait, what? What of the test results? Is there tissue damage? Is it ruled out that there is no internal bleeding? Won’t you keep him overnight? Did you even look at his medical history? He’s on blood thinners…”

“Haven’t been for almost half a year,” Buck argues.

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

“… Surprise?” Buck holds up his hands, pulling a face.

“Still!” Eddie shouts, turning back to the man in scrubs.

“It’s really more of a nick,” the doctor tries to assure him.

Eddie has seen the bloody bandages. He knows that this is bullshit. Just what is this doctor doing?

“Told you. AndJack,” Buck chimes. “Joke’s on both of you.”

“He got stabbed. With a knife,” Eddie argues, still not quite believing it that he has to point that out to a medical professional.

“I saw. And we treated it. Just needed stitches and a shit ton of antibiotics.” He hands Buck a clipboard to sign some things.

“A shit ton. Could you be any more precise?” Eddie asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Chill. Doc will know what he’s doing,” Buck argues, though Eddie pays him no mind. His eyes are now set on that pathetic excuse of a medical professional and Eddie is ready to throw a fit, if he has to.

“We need to keep the beds clear for emergencies,” the doctor adds, as though that was in any shape or form reason to release a man who just got stabbed. With a knife. After he was on blood-thinners – apparently – half a year ago.

“It’s workday, I know you aren’t…,” Eddie tries, but Buck interjects, “Doctor’s orders. Gotta listen to the experts, c’mon.”

He looks back at the doctor standing beside the bed, handing the clipboard back. “Okay, all signed. Thanks, Doc.”

The doctor studies it for a long moment, then nods his head.

“You are seriously just going to go?” Eddie asks, not quite believing what’s happening.

“The doctor said I could.”

“Look, if it puts you at ease, I will get my colleague in here to speak to you to get a second opinion while I take Mr. Buckley here to get his medication. Then you can rest assured that all is as it should be,” the doctor tries, his tone now mild.

Nothing is as it should be. Absolutely nothing.

This whole situation is abnormal. Buck shouldn’t be in hospital. He shouldn’t act like this. He should be spooning Christopher on the bed, cuddle him and kiss his head. He should have asked for Maddie by now. The 118 should be on the way here. Buck should still be working with them, with him. They should have movie nights on Fridays and Buck should babysit Christopher at least once a week. They should watch games together and doze off on the couch. Buck should ask for juice and burritos. Eddie should be making arrangements so that Buck can spend the night over at their place, so that he isn’t alone after such an event. There should be a spark in Buck’s eyes. He shouldn’t feel like a ghost. None of this should be. And yet, it is.

“Show the way, Doc,” Buck says, cutting through the silence. Eddie looks up.

“I’ll just get you a wheelchair, hold on.”

Buck sits up. Eddie doesn’t miss how the air leaves him for a moment, but he still pushes on. Eddie rounds the bed, extending his arms to steady Buck, but the younger man just holds up his hands, gritting his teeth.

“Don’t.”

It’s no demand. It’s not aggressive. It’s a plea. And a desperate one.

Eddie holds up his hands to give Buck space as he folds his legs out of bed, ignoring every instinct inside himself to hold on anyway, if only to calm the tremor in Buck’s body the way he used to do it when he saw him this upset.

“I’m sorry for all this,” Buck mutters, not looking at him. “I’m glad Christopher is safe.”

“You know, just because you didn’t plan on seeing us, you still can.”

“No, I really can’t. Thanks, though.”

“Ah, you’re already up, Mr. Buckley. See? He’s doing great. Will be as good as new in a matter of days,” the doctor chimes as he comes back inside with the wheelchair. He helps Buck settle in, though Buck is basically doing it entirely on his own.

“We’ll be right back.”

Eddie watches as the doctor wheels Buck out of the room, out into the busy hallway. He tries his phone again, still no luck. Though he could really use some support here. Because none of it makes sense to Eddie anymore.

------------------------

“Coast’s clear,” Neil says, peering around the corner.

Buck hits the other man in the arm, hard.

“Hey! What’s that for?” the other man whines, pulling back into the storage room he maneuvered him into at Buck’s behest written on the clipboard.

“You didn’t have to put on an act as a doctor, you jackass,” Buck grumbles as he pulls the hoodie over his head, ignoring the pain flaring up in his side.

Just a nick my ass.

“I watched enough Grey’s Anatomy to know my way around,” Neil snorts. “I totally pass as a McSexy.”

“He’s an ex-Army medic and first responder, dude,” Buck argues. “Also, you are not McSexy, you’re McSaggy.”

“Ah, so it’s the ex-ex!”

Buck hits him again.

“You slut!” Neil laughs. “I guessed you had a thing for Latinas.”

Buck hits him again for emphasis, though he knows it’s all lost on a guy like Neil. He also knows he shouldn’t be surprised by the guy anymore. But the moment he rolled in with the white coat and the toothpaste smile, Buck will have to admit he was shocked. Though that was basically his modus operandi throughout the day. First the bomber, then Christopher, God, Christopher, and then Eddie.

“Okay. I checked, you can use the stairway…,” Neil tries to say, but Buck cuts him off. He’s tired and not up for faux tactic talk. “Dude, I know that hospital better than I’d like to. Just tell me where to in the parking lot.”

“Towards the back. Black sedan.” He tosses him the keys. “And you won’t be driving.”

Buck rolls his eyes as he stuffs the keys into the pocket of the hoodie. “No shit.”

“Wanna bid adieu to lover boy?” Neil asks, though not really.

Neil always says one thing, means the other, then says what he means, then he doesn’t. On most days, Buck enjoys Neil’s company. He’s at least fun to talk to, when he isn’t being a little bitch about it. The guy keeps a calm head in any situation without a stick up his ass. But right now, everything in Buck hates him. Though even that, Buck knows, is just projection.

It’s myself I hate.

“I did over a year ago,” Buck answers, whether to assure Neil or to remind himself, he isn’t quite sure. “Let’s just get moving.”

“Hoo-yah.”

Buck looks back out the hallway to see Eddie still standing in the doorway, fuming. He hates to see him like this, to leave him like this, but it’s just another thing to add, in the end. To all the hatred Eddie and the others are entitled to feel. Because yes, Buck is the bad guy in this. He knows it’s true.

It’s what he left behind, 413 days ago.

It’s what he won’t ever go back to, no matter the amount of days passed.

“Coast still clear?” Buck asks.

Neil checks, nods. Buck takes his cue and ducks out of the storage room, swiftly making his way to the staircase.

He leaves the comforting thought behind that maybe, someday, Eddie will forgive him this, all of this, and remember only the times Buck wasn’t there to wreak havoc in his life.

Buck finds the car with ease and he climbs in with not as much ease. Because his side is burning and he needs to sleep. He rather sleeps through nightmares than live through them.

Neil emerges a few minutes later, laughing to himself as he gets into the driver’s seat.

“Nice of you to make me call him a taxi,” Neil points out. “The lines are still dead, as could be expected, but I could get through with the super fancy, not at all fancy-looking phone we got.”

Buck noted that down on the clipboard as well, of course. It’s the damn well least.

“He left his car at the plaza,” Buck almost whispers.

Neil starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot, eyes fixed on the road. “You okay?”

“I was stabbed, so I’m bloody terrific.”

“Good, then you’ll be delighted that we’ll be staying a while longer,” Neil informs him.

Buck leans his head back. “You’re fucking me, right?”

They had a plan. Just two weeks. Just this case. They had the network down. They should have been done with this guy thanks to whom he took a knife to the stomach today. That should have been it. He should have a flight booked out of here, away from the eyes haunting him in his dreams, the questions that burned on Eddie’s lips, though he wouldn’t say them. Because he never does.

“For as long as you don’t turn out to be a hot redhead with no appendages between the legs, no, I’m not fucking you.”

“How long?” Buck sighs. It’s not like he has any illusions about it: He will have to tay for as long as it’s demanded of him.

Rules of the game.

“At least another two weeks,” Neil lets him know. “The big boss man agreed with your assessment about how the network operates. And apparently, there’s been additional intel that just came our way. Get this: The pack leader is supposedly in town right now.”

“Fuck,” Buck curses. He hoped that that person’s appearance would be as far away from L.A. as is humanly possible. His prediction was that with the evidence gathered here, they could narrow down the pack leader and then move before the network spread any further. But the pack leader is here for a show, and it will blow.

“Big boss man also said you get the rest of the week off to heal up, coz you actually belonged in hospital”

“No shit,” Buck snorts, trying to find a comfortable position he knows he isn’t going to get.

“But so long you take it easy, you should be fine.”

“I appreciate the care,” Buck snorts.

“Oh please, I don’t care a rat’s ass about you. You’re just damn good at the job, is all…,” Neil says jovially, but then adds in a smaller voice, “Couldn’t help but notice, though.”

“Notice what?”

“You didn’t kill the guy.”

“Damn, you’re observant,” Buck scoffs.

“We are trained to shoot first, ask questions later.”

“I thought I could talk him out of it. And I did, after he stabbed me, fine. But no one turned to human confetti.”

“Precisely. You had a gun on you, of course you did,” Neil argues. “You could’ve just taken the shot.”

“Risk would’ve been higher for him to release the trigger, had I taken the shot. I had to get close anyway. Like that, I had a chance to wrestle the switch from him,” Buck replies. “Also, that means we have two witnesses now we can squeeze out for information regarding the pack leader. Normally, we only get to pick up their pieces.”

Neil shrugs. “Just saying, don’t slip into old habits. You’re no longer a firefighter. You see a bad guy? You kill a bad guy.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t hear you,” Neil huffs.

“Don’t be a bitch and drive, damn it.”

“I mean it, Buckley,” Neil adds, grinding his teeth. “I have no intention to get dragged into your problems. You can’t turn the switch? You gotta go.”

Oh, and how much Buck would love to. But even if Neil may hate his guts, Buck is where he belongs, where he belonged long before he could fool himself into believing that his place was in a firehouse with red furniture and a house wherein the most adorable kid lives and plays video games.

Even if I wanted to, if you wanted me to, there’s someone who wants me to say. And he calls the shots. Rules of the game.

“I made a call based on the evidence and my experience,” Buck reasons, because it’s still true. He took a risk based on what he knows himself capable of.

“Good, just checking.”

“There’s no need.”

“There better not be. We have a mission to fulfill.”

“Hoo-yah.”

[thathopelessromantic]

Reckless Good (3/?)

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Fic Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Teen+

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku 

Note: Thanks so much for the great response so far! And if you haven’t already, please check out some of the other great pieces for the TDDK Big Bang this year!

Todoroki Shouto had accepted his fate as a public figure when he became a pro-hero, but there are some parts of his private life he would like to stay private. When he gets invited to be a speaker in a college lecture series, he goes to the meeting with one goal: to give the coordinator a piece of his mind and finally put an end to people hounding him for information about his family.

The last thing he expects is the curious, and quirkless, hero- and quirk-study professor, Midoriya Izuku, who has no interest in his family’s history, and, somehow, even more ties to the hero industry than Shouto. Intrigued by the professor, Shouto tentatively agrees to the lecture series, unknowingly intertwining their futures.

But the more Todoroki sees of Midoriya, the more questions he has. When a villain attack leaves them living together until the culprits are apprehended, maybe he’ll finally get some answers.

AO3: (x) Chapter One: (X) Chapter Two: (X)

Shouto is, regrettably, not unfamiliar with the process of checking into the hospital, or the protocols in the burn unit, but things seem to go surprisingly quick with a doctor at his side, explaining not only the extent of his injury but the cause. Just a few moments after they’ve arrived, Shouto is whisked away from Dr. Midoriya and Kou to have his burn cleaned and dressed. They run the usual battery of tests, poke him for blood what feels like a dozen times, and after about half a dozen reassurances to various doctors and nurses that, yes, he does know how to care for a burn at home, he’s told he might be able to go home later that night.

The room he’s put in is, admittedly, one of the nicer hospital rooms that he’s visited. It’s part of a private wing made specifically for pro-heroes to get a little peace from fans and the media while recovering, but it doesn’t make him hate it any less. He’s only been alone in the room for twenty minutes or so, but he’s already contemplating a prison break. Let Momo handle the paperwork for his unconventional discharge on her next day at the office and call it good. But the risk of being put on some extra mandatory leave is too great. His doctor and Momo have been on his case about taking care of himself properly for months now and they’d love any excuse to bench him for a few extra weeks, instead of the couple of days he’ll need for the burn to heal enough that he can cover it securely and get back to work.

There’s a short knock on the door. Shouto starts to mentally prepare himself for another argument with a doctor when the door inches open and Kou peeks in. Surprised, Shouto waves to her. Kou smiles back, turning to motion at someone behind her. A moment later the door opens the rest of the way and Kou rushes in, followed by Dr. Midoriya.

“Dr. Midoriya and I are on a secret adventure.” Kou announces in a whisper. There’s a Uravity-themed spacesuit sticker on her cheek and she looks as if she’s recovered from the evening’s events, but her clothes have been replaced by a colorful hospital gown and fuzzy bathrobe.

Dr. Midoriya hasn’t changed his clothes, but he has a white lab coat on over top.

“Oh? What is your secret adventure?” Shouto asks. He shifts to the side and makes room for Kou to climb onto the bed besides him.

“Visiting you!” She announces, happily. “It’s a secret because I’m not supposed to leave the quirk ward, but Dr. Midoriya snuck me out. This is for you. Dr. Midoriya said you were friends!” She pulls two more stickers out of a pocket in her robe and hands them to him; a music note that says Earphone Jack and a nesting doll in Creati’s costume.

“Thank you,” Shouto says genuinely, though he has no idea what he’s going to do with the stickers. But his mind is distracted by Kou’s other words. The quirk ward? Obviously there was a reason the villains had targeted the girl, but that detail had gotten buried in the chaos of everything else. Now he’s reminded of the villain’s words…something about her being the key.

He looks up but Dr. Midoriya meets his eye with a subtle shake of his head.

Shouto lets the subject drop for now, but he’s determined to stay a part of this investigation. He’ll get his answers eventually.

Turning back to Kou, he tries a hesitant smile. “Would you still like that autograph?”

Her whole being lights up. “Really?” She reaches into the pocket of her robe again only for her face to drop. “Oh. I forgot my notebook.”

Dr. Midoriya taps her on the shoulder, holding out a small, heart-shaped notepad and a glittery gel pen.

Kou gasps, taking the items from him with excited thanks. She flips through the notebook quickly looking for a blank page, and Shouto is surprised by how many signatures she’s already amassed. Satisfied with the location, she hands the notebook and pen to him. She’s practically vibrating in excitement as he writes a quick note to her, trying to make it sound a little more personal than his usual scribbled signature.

Just as Shouto finishes his note, there’s another knock on the door. Yet another doctor steps into the room, reading through something in a folder. Her long, silver hair is draped over her shoulder in a thick braid and there’s a sharp horn coming out of her forehead. She seems faintly familiar to Shouto but he can’t place why he would recognize her. At the very least he doesn’t think he’s ever had her as a doctor before. She stops in her tracks when she sees Dr. Midoriya and Kou gathered around his hospital bed.

“Izuku!” she scolds, crossing her arms over her chest.

It takes Shouto a moment to remember Izuku is Dr. Midoriya’s first name. He glances up at him.

Dr. Midoriya leans close to Kou, covering his mouth with one hand to stage whisper to her. “I think we got caught.”

Kou copies him with a quiet giggle. “Oops.”

Shouto closes her notebook carefully and slides it across the bed. Kou covertly slips it into her robe.

“What are you even doing here?” The new doctor asks, exasperated. There’s no way she didn’t hear the two of them whispering, but she seems to be ignoring it.

“Kou just wanted to thank Entropy for saving her!” Dr. Midoriya insists, apparently choosing to take no blame in their “secret adventure.”

“Dr. Aizawa has a quirk kind of like mine,” Kou tells Shouto in a hushed voice while the two doctors argue. “She and Dr. Midoriya are really nice. And funny.”

Dr. Aizawa makes it all click. The light hair and the horn. She was the same little girl Aizawa had adopted during Shouto’s first year.

“We were just leaving, Dr. Aizawa!” Kou chimes in suddenly, sliding off the bed and grabbing Dr. Midoriya’s hand. “Bye!”

Dr. Aizawa shakes her head as Dr. Midoriya is pulled out of the room by a girl a quarter his size. “This isn’t over just because you have a patient protecting you, Izuku.”

Dr. Midoriya sends a bright smile back at her just as the door closes on the two of them.

“I hope they weren’t bothering you too much,” Dr. Aizawa says as she comes over to Shouto’s bed.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m glad I got to see her again. I was worried she’d be a little more upset after everything.”

“Kou’s a strong girl. She’s going to be okay.” Dr. Aizawa says with certainty. “Anyways, I’m Aizawa Eri, I’m part of the hero staff here.”

“Aizawa, er...Eraserhead’s daughter, right?”

Dr. Aizawa smiles and it looks so shockingly like Dr. Midoriya’s, Shouto can’t help but wonder about what their connection to each other is. Especially with how casually she spoke to him. Could they be related? It seems like he would have known if his homeroom teacher had also had or adopted a son his age, wouldn’t he? “That’s right, you were one of his students! Nice to see you again.”

Shouto bows his head in acknowledgement. He knows he met the young girl Aizawa adopted a few times, but his memories of her are fuzzy at best.

Dr. Aizawa checks him over again, asking him a few questions about how he’s feeling and what’s been done already. Finally, she gets to why she’s here to see him. “I’m not sure if you would remember, but my quirk is Rewind. It’s delicate but helpful for healing, especially for many pros. If you remember about how long ago you were burned, I should be able to heal your arm so that you can get back to work without too much fuss.”

“Really?”

Dr. Aizawa nods. “I can rewind your body back to before it happened, but it will rewind your whole body so the closer to the exact time it happened the better, otherwise too many things could change. Do you have a good idea of when it happened?”

“What time is it now?”

Dr. Aizawa glances at her watch. “Almost ten.”

Shouto is briefly surprised by that information. He hadn’t realized how long he had been in the hospital already. “I left the agency after the first alerts came in around 6:30, so it was probably around 7 that I made contact with the villain. I can’t be more exact than that, unfortunately.”

“That should work alright. Would you like to be rewound, or would you prefer to let it heal naturally?”

Shouto shakes his head. Anything to speed up the process. “No, please rewind it if you can.”

She smiles. “Okay, it will be just a moment then.”

Dr. Aizawa pulls on a pair of gloves and takes his arm in her hands, gently, mindful of the injury and the loose bandages protecting it.

A moment later the horn at her temple begins to glow, Shouto has to look away as the warm light grows brighter and then, just like that, it’s over. When he looks back at the doctor, her horn has shrunk a little, losing some of the sharp edge at the top.

“Okay! You should be good to go. How does it feel?”

Shouto moves his arm a few times, relieved that there’s no pain as he moves it. Carefully he peels off the bandages. It looks as if he was never injured, not even a small scar left behind.

Dr. Aizawa looks pleased with the results. “Perfect. Unfortunately it doesn’t work on non-living things so you will have to have your costume repaired separately.”

“That’s fine,” Shouto says. He was more worried about being forced to take some sick leave than repairing his costume to begin with. “Thank you.”

Dr. Aizawa smiles again. “Of course. I’m happy to help.” She pulls a few papers out of her folder and hands them to him. “If you are ready, you can take these to the desk out front and you’ll be discharged.”

Shouto hesitates as he takes the papers from her. An hour ago he was ready to run at the first chance, but now…she was someone who might have some answers…

“Kou mentioned that the two of you had similar quirks,”

“I’m sorry. If you become a part of the investigation I’m sure you’ll find out more information, but for now I can’t disclose a patient’s information.”  Dr. Aizawa says before he can even finish figuring out exactly what he wants to ask.

“Right. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I don’t blame you for being curious, not after everything that’s happened.”

Dr. Aizawa looks ready to leave, but there’s one more thing Shouto has to ask. At least while he still has a chance.

“Can I ask about Dr. Midoriya, then?”

Dr. Aizawa stops with a puzzled look. “Izuku? What about him?”

Shouto's mind goes blank. Everything doesn’t seem like a plausible response. At least not one that would get him anywhere. “Uh, I…I was just surprised to hear you call him Izuku. Are you close?”

Dr. Aizawa studies him for a long time as if she could determine whatever ulterior motives he had for asking just by staring him down. Maybe she could if even he knew what he was doing asking these questions.

“I’ve known Izuku for a long time,” she finally says. “He’s like family.”

The answer is careful, guarded. With the slightest undertone of a threat.

“…Right.” Shouto replies awkwardly. “Thank you.”

Dr. Aizawa inclines her head to him. “Have a nice night, Entropy.”

 After checking out with Dr. Aizawa’s discharge papers, Shouto heads back to the agency. Sunspot practically tackles him in the lobby.

“Entropy! You’re okay! I thought you were just going to check on the kidnapped civilian, but then Ingenium told me his friend was taking you to the hospital and that I had nothing to worry about so I should just go back to the agency but I didn’t know why you were going to the hospital or what was happening,” she stutters over her words for a moment, taking a breath. “Was it okay to leave? I didn’t know what else to do but I didn’t know what hospital you went to or why. Were you injured? You don’t look hurt. Is that how you damaged your costume?”

Shouto lets her run on while he goes to his office. He knows she’ll follow. And that it’s pointless to try and get a word in until she runs out of breath.

Sunspot sinks into one of his office chairs as he goes to turn his computer on. He lifts a brow at her slumped form in the armchair.

“Are you done?”

She opens her mouth to speak again but after a moment shuts it again and nods.

“The villain who took the hostage burned me. I hadn’t realized the extent of the injury until later. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you personally so that you knew it was okay to come back, but it was fine that you came back. It wasn’t serious.” Shouto explains calmly. “You said Ingenium told you to come back?” Shouto thinks back to Dr. Midoriya texting in the ambulance and he wonders if the two know each other.

Sunspot nods again. “He came and found me and told me a friend was taking you to the hospital. I assumed he meant one of the paramedics. I didn’t know he was friends with the paramedics. Was that part of U.A. training? Getting to know first-responders closely? Or just a coincidence?”

“I think it’s just a coincidence on Ingenium’s part. Not something you’re missing out on.” Shouto says. “You did good tonight. Go home and get some rest.”

“But-”

Shouto gestures to her before she can argue. “You expended a lot of your reserve helping the rescue crews with civilians trapped under the rubble and then helping me melt the ice. It’s okay.”

Sunspot looks down at herself. The faint glow she normally gives off as a result of having excess energy saved up by her quirk is almost completely extinguished. At the late hour, she wouldn’t be able to get any more energy even if they needed to go out into the field again. Not until the sun was up again.

Sunspot pushes herself out of the chair. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help tonight.” She says with a short bow.

Shouto waves her off. “It’s okay.”

“Good night, Entropy.”

“Good night, Sunspot. Good work tonight.” Shouto says. He catches just a glimpse of her relieved smile as his office door closes quietly behind her.

Alone, Shouto settles into his desk chair, already mentally preparing for a long night. He considers going against doctor’s orders and getting some coffee but just barely resists the temptation. Caffeine might end up making him too jittery to focus and this is important. Writing up a more in-depth report of the event for the police and the agency records is the first priority of the night. But after that, Shouto has some research to do.

 X

Momo finds him like that in the morning. Sometime in the night the combination of the late hour and bright computer screen got to him and he went in search of his rarely-worn glasses to take some of the stress off. His final report and the accompanying paperwork are tucked in a folder for safe keeping, but the rest of his desk is a disaster zone of scattered pages, printed news reports of the attack last night with any information he might have missed, any police reports on the matter he could get his hands on with his current clearance, his own compiled notes.

He doesn’t even realize someone else is in the office with him until Momo clears her throat, placing a paper to-go cup of tea in the middle of his desk, on top of the latest piece he’s reading.

“Shouto,” she says seriously, crossing her arms over her chest. “ When did you last take a break?”

Shouto tries to come up with an answer but his brain is fuzzy at best, street names and potential identities floating at the forefront of his consciousness. “Uh, what time is it?”

Momo sighs, rubbing at her temple with one hand. “ Go home, Shouto.”

“I just need to-"

“No.” Momo comes around the other side of his desk, pulling him up and out of his desk chair by one arm. “It’s almost eight o'clock. You need to go home and go to bed.”

Momo might have had a point, his shift was supposed to end at six that morning and he hadn’t even noticed the time, but he digs his heels in, resisting being dragged from the office to the best of his ability. Unfortunately, Momo is stronger than she looks, and has the advantage of a full-night’s sleep on him.

“Go home. Go to sleep. Don’t come back until Saturday.”

“But-”

“You were injured! You should have called me as soon as you were taken to the hospital,” Momo scolds.

“I got better.”

Momo looks at him curiously. She comes to a stop, scanning him over. Shouto’s sure he looks a mess, still half-dressed in his damaged hero-suit, the top unzipped and tied around his waist. His hair has started to escape the braid he had it in for work and he can see the loose hair floating in his peripheral vision. Not to mention how exhausted he probably looks after spending the whole night scouring the police database. But – he’s not injured.

“What do you mean you ‘got better’? You weren’t really injured?”

Shouto sighs. “No, I was. There was a doctor at the hospital with a quirk who fixed it. Aizawa’s daughter, actually.”

Momo’s brows shoot up in surprise. “I didn’t realize she became a doctor. That’s wonderful.” She pauses. “But not the point. You still should have called someone. Though I suppose I should be grateful you went to get help, at all.”

Shouto rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well…there was a doctor on the scene when I was talking to the girl who was targeted who saw my burn.”

“A doctor?”

“Uh…Dr. Midoriya.” Shouto explains. He isn’t sure if Momo will recognize the name, not entirely sure if he wants her to remember or not.

“The professor from the lecture series?” Momo asks in surprise. “What was he doing there?”

“Apparently he’s not just a professor.”

Momo studies him for a few moments, trying to figure something out. Shouto doesn’t blame her. He’d like some answers about his behavior too. He just hopes she comes to an easy conclusion, like Shouto cooperated with Dr. Midoriya because he sort-of knew him, and not anything else ridiculous. Or revealing. Or uncomfortable.

Finally, Momo shakes her head, brushing off whatever conclusions she may have come to. “I don’t care. Go home. Sleep. Eat something. I’ll finish submitting your reports to the police and I’ll make sure they know you are interested in joining the case searching for the villains who escaped last night, but other than talking to anyone who contacts you about the case, I don’t want to hear about you working again until this weekend.”

Shouto wants to keep arguing, he’s not even hurt anymore, but he knows this is the best he’s going to get from her. He is also unbelievably grateful for all the years they’ve known each other and how Momo knows exactly what he needs to hear to relax, even just a little.  “Okay. Thank you.”

Momo nods. “We’ll get whoever it is, Shouto. But you don’t have to do it alone. And you can’t do it in one night. So please take care of yourself. I’ll see you on Friday for dinner.”

Momo waves to an intern, instructing them to escort Shouto to the exit. Shouto wants to protest being babysat the rest of the way to the door, but Momo pins him with a hard look before he can even open his mouth and he lets it happen. Admittedly, now that he’s not pouring over his research to keep himself moving, he can feel exhaustion settling over him.

Though he could still find the way to the damn door himself.

 Shouto stumbles into his dark apartment twenty minutes later. He leaves the lights off as he comes through the entrance. The morning sun has started to fill the front room with light, and its enough for him to make his way to the bedroom without tripping over anything. His bed is cool, the sheets still ruffled from the previous morning. Shouto just barely remembers to strip off his ruined hero-suit before he drops into the bed, using his left side to warm up the sheets quicker. In a minute, he’s asleep.

When he wakes again, warm golden light pours into the room from his half-open window. He runs a hand over his face, trying to will away the strange, disorienting feeling of waking up. He reaches to his bedside table, knocking a few things to the side until he connects with his alarm clock. Pulling it close, he squints at the lit screen. It was almost five in the afternoon. Shouto tosses the offending thing away. He takes just a few moments to reorient himself before he forces himself out of bed and into the shower.

He only remembers after stepping into the spray that half of his hair is still twisted into a braid. He swears as he tears the now-wet strands free of the stubborn rubber-band, tugging at the knots there unhappily. He doesn’t mean to stay in the shower for long, but after fighting with his hair for who knows how long, the heat and relaxing pound of the spray against his shoulders eases some of the tension from his body and he wastes time under the comforting water until it starts to run cold. The temperature change doesn’t bother him much, but he figures he’s wasted enough water like that and climbs out.

After drying off a little, Shouto brushes his teeth, and that, combined with washing off the grime of the previous day, helps make him feel a little more awake. A little more human.

Shouto dresses in casual civilian clothes. He finds his phone, dead, in a pocket of his hero-suit before tossing the ruined thing in a bag to give to the support team. They’ll probably just have to make him a new one, but he feels bad throwing it away without trying to salvage it.

His charger is plugged in near the bed, so he goes to grab it so he can charge his phone in the kitchen while he makes something to eat. But in fumbling around looking for the charger, he spots his forgotten glasses in the mess of sheets and pillows on his bed. The ear piece on the right side is bent at a strange angle and one of the lenses is cracked. Shit. Well, he supposes, that’s what he gets for wearing them for the first time in months while running on fumes. He tosses the damaged glasses on his side table and leaves for the kitchen.

Finally, he switches on a few lights.

His apartment is mostly bare, plain white walls with just a few basic pieces of furniture, mostly just there to fill the empty space. The occasional dirty glass or dish that gets left behind if he’s in a rush on his way to work are the only signs of the life in the otherwise dull place. Those, and the three picture frames hanging on the wall in his living room; one of his mother and siblings, one of his graduating class with their teachers mixed in with the colorful crowd, and one of the day he and Momo started their agency. They’re the only decoration he needs. They represent all the important people in his life.

There are a few containers of leftovers in the fridge, and while it would be easier to warm something up and leave it at that, Shouto takes the time to pull out some fresh ingredients. Washing off the vegetables and prepping them while rice cooks is a simple, familiar routine and it helps ground him.

He starts a simple stir fry with chicken just as his phone finally comes back to life, chiming with a number of missed notifications. Lowering the heat slightly, Shouto lets it simmer for a minute while he checks his phone.

A few of the notifications are basic news reports he usually dismisses, though today he saves any about last night’s attack incase there’s been any updated information. There are two texts from Momo asking if he got home safe and if he ate anything. He shoots of a quick reply to her, apologizing for not letting her know right away and reassuring her he’s making food now. He takes a picture of the pan and sends it as an after thought, just in case she doesn’t believe him. There are also a few texts from Kyouka telling him to stop worrying her wife and to stop being an idiot. He responds to those with a few choice emojis and nothing else. She’ll get the message.

Finally, he looks at the emails he missed. There’s one from an Officer Uchida he doesn’t recognize, confirming he (Momo) submitted the right paper work to join the case against the villains from the night before and once the task force has been officially formed he would be contacted with more information. Relieved, Shotuo saves the contact information and sets it as a priority so he’ll be sure to get any future notifications right away. The only other missed email is from Dr. Midoriya.

Shouto goes back to checking his food, stirring it for a few minutes and adding a few more ingredients. His attention goes back to his phone a few times, but he resists going back to it. He’s not sure why, he’s been waiting for this stupid email basically since he left the professor’s office, but suddenly he’s nervous about opening it. He’s not sure what to expect once he opens the list of the professor’s topics. What if he imagined all of this and the professor still wants him to talk about his family? What if Shouto can’t answer any of his questions about how his quirk works? Is it even a good idea for him to talk publicly about how his quirk works? Couldn’t someone use that against him?

Shouto turns his phone upside down, hiding the blinking notification.

He’ll look at it after he eats.

He finishes cooking a little while later. Scooping out a generous serving of rice into a bowl and getting a plate for the stir fry he settles in the living room. He has a perfectly good table he could eat at in the kitchen, but there’s something satisfying in breaking the rules and eating on the couch. Out in the open, casually. He hasn’t lived with his father since he was a first year, but he still takes satisfaction in all the ways he can defy him and the rules he kept in that house.

Shouto turns on the local news channel to watch while he eats. Unsurprisingly, the attack from last night is still the focus of the station. There’s a reporter discussing the widespread damage through downtown on the screen. In the background, heroes and clean up crews are still working to clear the rubble. Shouto recognizes Uravity’s bright pink costume amongst all the grey and black. She’s moving two giant pieces of concrete overhead, some kind of broken metal rods coming from one look particularly dangerous.

A scrolling banner runs across the bottom of the broadcast, asking anyone who might have information about the villains to call in to a hotline, and a separate call for anyone with quirks that might help in fixing the damage done to the roads. There are also short headlines for stories meant to air later that night and a small graphic with the weather.

The camera view changes suddenly and the report comes back into view with a police officer, answering questions about the attack.

What did they know about it? Not much yet, but they don’t think it was random.

Was anyone seriously injured? Thankfully most casualties were only minor injuries and the paramedics on scene took care of most of the civilians who were hurt.

Who were the villains? No one in particular. They don’t think this is an organized group starting attacks. Not like in the past. No one needs to worry.

All safe answers that tell them basically nothing about what happened. Shouto learned more in the two minutes he spent on the radio before pursuing the villain than the news report. He changes the channel. A talk show re-run is showing an old interview with Hawks. Shouto hesitates changing the channel again.

“So, Hawks, it’s no secret that you’ve been a fan of Endeavor’s basically since your debut, and the two of you made a good team as Number 1 and 2 for a while,” the interviewer says in a fake cheerful voice. Hawks gives a stiff smile, placating but revealing nothing about how he actually feels about the subject. “What are your thoughts on the rumors brewing about a civil trial after the allegations against Endeavor from his family?”

‘Tis the season.

Shouto clicks the TV off before Hawks can reply.

Not hungry anymore, Shouto puts his plate down. He ate most of what he had taken anyways. The rest will be fine for leftovers.

Getting up from the couch, Shouto goes back to the kitchen for his phone. The same ignored email is still waiting for him with that mocking, blinking notification light. Taking a deep breath, as if preparing for a fight, he opens it.

Entropy,

I hope you are doing better after Dr. Aizawa’s visit with you at the hospital. Sorry I couldn’t see you off. Here is the list of possible topics we discussed the other day. This is just an abbreviated list of some basic things to talk about. You can obviously go into more detail about anything that might interest you or that you think might be important information for anyone with two or dual quirks to consider.

Thank you for considering being a part of the Hero Talks Series.

Thank you, also, for your help with the attacks last night and with Kou.

Midoriya

 Shouto isn’t sure what to focus on first. The dropped title from the professor’s name? Midoriya thanking him for doing his job of all things?

Making the executive decision to focus on none of them for the time being, Shouto opens the attached document with the lecture topics. Dr. Midoriya’s “abbreviated list" is still two pages long.

Somehow, it’s exactly what Shouto was expecting.

[han-shinsuke]

🇳 🇦 🇴 🇾 🇦 🇿 🇪 🇳 🇮 🇳 ANGST

•life starts here•

He might have heard of it for him to do such reckless decision of acquiring me under the Zenin household. Mom had brought him with her in our home–I find his behaviour unusual for his age—well, I am not that old to speak this way but, Naoya Zenin IS really odd. How come a boy like him, who has everything that I always dream of, seems unhappy of his possessions and privileges and his eyes—whenever I lay attention on those, I see someone really different from the boy standing before mine. Does the life he has right now suffocates him?

“I can give you a life far better from what you have right now. All you have to do is to marry me.”

I see. He sees his way out through me.

Might as well use him as a path and tool towards security.

Fifteenth of September, I married Naoya Zenin.

•••••

“Ears on me, Nao.” Mom would definitely scold me if she finds out that I, a nobody, is going to lecture the boy who holds so much power and authority in his hands, “what’s so funny ha? Stop smirking.”

“You. I find your tantrums ridiculous.”

Is it possible to feel this kind of bloodlust for a boy? Can I kill him this instant? Uh, no. That would make me a criminal and most certainly, my body will not leave this house intact. Head for every life someone would take.

“May I remind you, I agreed to marry you three years ago but we both promised not to engage ourselves in any bedroom activities, right?” Naoya was only eighteen back then while I was already in my twenties. I don’t prey on children and will never not even if he’s already an adult.

I’m on my last year in college and one more year and we will give each other the freedom we always wanted.

“Can’t I use you according to my terms and needs?” He still has the annoying grin he had two hours ago.

Naoya Zenin, you really made my blood boiled. “You just did, Nao. You kissed me in front of my friends!” How can a man lie about his incapabilities to please a woman? I feel goosebumps all over my body! I can still feel his lips on mine!

“It was just a kiss, Y/N. It does not grow feelings, doesn’t it?” There was something in his eyes that makes me wanna doubt my incoming response.

“Of course. It was just a mere kiss.” I don’t kiss then fall in love.

Liar. The devil in me contradicted.

•••••

Responsibility is what makes a man, a man. And a bloke’s ability to fulfill the onus that have given to him is what makes a man deserving of power bestowed upon him.

But, whaf if, once upon a man’s life, all he had ever dreamt of was to have a normal life like the others?

Would it make him a bad man to desire life according to his preferences?

Would it make a man, not a man at all, if he chooses who he really wanted to be?

To choose. To live. To be accountable for the mistake he would make.

Freedom is all he ever wanted.

Once in his life, Naoya Zenin feels the sense of belongingness under her care.

••••

“You look bad.” What’s new? I always look terrible. Been in a fight—almost a cat fight with Naoya’s ex-fianceé, Shei. I roll my eyes at him when he took a photo of me.

“How can you stomach this face, Nao?” I catch a glimpse of my snap in his phone and it makes me wanna vomit. “I’m an ugly shit.” Messy hair and few scratches on my face. Kill me now.

Shall I apologize to him? I have gone feral on his supposed to be wife. Well, he can’t blame me for fighting back. Shei, had hit a nerve.

“I’m sorry. I slapped her.”

“What were you sorry for?”

His hand ascends in the air. I closed my eyes when I thought he would hit me, too, in exchange of the pain I inflicted in his girl.

“You’re really warm, Y/N.”

That day, the wind blown north.

And there was his captivating smile.

••••

“You would never find a man who will love you.”

“I regret having you as my daughter.”

“You won’t make it. You’re weak. You are a fool for believing in miracles.”

“I just want you gone in my life.”

Dad, do you still believe I will not make it?

Do you still want me gone?

Dad, he’s the miracle dressed in a villain’s coat.

Do you still not believe it?

One day, I will be home to tell you all about it.

•••••

“You’re just a tool for him, bitch! And once he gets his freedom, you’ll be dispensable!”

“He would throw you out just like what your father had done to you!”

Winter is approaching. And guess what?

I just landed a killer slap on someone's face out of fury.

••••

“I married him for his money.” The woman sitting adjacent to me will not believe me if I say that we married each other for love.

Mrs. Zenin slides a blank cheque to me and says, “name your price.”

“I sold my words and my loyalty to your son, Madame. You cannot buy a devil twice.”

On this day and forward, I solemnly swear I will get him out.

“My son has big responsibilities to this family.”

“And so is he to himself.”

Naoya deserves freedom.

•••••

Can I last a day in the Zenin household?

Good news, I have been living with them for almost four years now.

“Do you miss your brother?” Suddenly, he asks. I turn to him and rest my eyes under his bed.

We don’t sleep on the same bed. I’m comfortable lying on the floor.

“No.” I lied.

He’s with me wherever I go.

At this time, he was under his bed. Smiling back at me.

I cannot let go of him.

After all these years, my brother’s ghost is still haunting me.

He died under my bed.

••••

“I saved your fund from the robbers.”

He was young. He was full of life.

He was innocent. He had dreams.

On the day of Christmas Eve, robbers had invaded our home. No one was there aside from my thirteen years old brother.

My parents got into a fight so they left home.

I got tired of their shits so I left home, too.

“I fought for these. Are you proud of me, ate?” I found my brother covered in blood. Hiding under my bed. Protecting my stupid piggy bank.

My brother was a hero.

He protected my dreams.

And that caused him, his life.

•••••

“Had you dated a man before?”

“Never. Men are scared of me.”

I check his tie and it perfectly clings around his neck. We have our graduation pictorial today so I volunteer assisting him in his clothes.

“Am I scared of you?” He holds my chin and moves my head up and down then left and right. I give him a soft blow on his stomach and that makes him laugh.

“Why are we having this conversation, Nao?” The contract is nearing its end. Naoya Zenin will be free in three months.

I get him to stay. I get him to choose. I get him to be accountable for every consequences of his actions and decisions.

“Can we be friends after our divorce?” Can we? Can I be just a friend for the man I want to keep for as long as I could?

“Thank you, Naoya.”

“For what?” He checks himself in the mirror and smiles.

“For saving me from becoming a total mess.”

Fifteenth of September, I almost sold my dignity in exchange of money.

Fifteenth of September, Naoya Zenin came.

•••••

On our graduation day, just when I’m about to receive my diploma alone on the stage, my father came with flowers in his hand. Even though he was struggling to walk using his prosthetic leg, my father march with me.

It was not the diploma that made me cried a river on our way down but the words I longed for him to say,

“I’m sorry for not being a good father to you.”

And oh, I also found out that she’s living with my mom again.

•••••

“I’m returning every penny he has spent on me, Madame.” I did not mean to boast but I save enough to pay back Naoya’s generosity.

“Does he know?” Mrs. Zenin picks up the cheque and plays with it.

“Yes, Madame.” Naoya knows I work part time up until now.

“May I ask you, how do you envision Naoya Zenin without his family?”

“A man who don’t value his roots is nothing. There would be no Naoya Zenin without his family, Madame. Please, do not abandon your son just because he sees life differently from yours.”

••••••

—five years later—

“Y/N, can you assist the new guests?”

I stop checking the inventory report in the computer and immediately come to aid my best friend who is also my co-owner of the small coffee shop we established five years ago. I wear the black apron and pick two menu card from the counter.

“Good day! Welcome to Carri—”

“Y/N...”

“Mrs. Zenin!” I almost dropped the menu card on the floor but the man who has his back against my direction caught them on time.

“Hello, wife!” Naoya flashes his captivating smile and gives back the menu card, “can I take you home after your duty?”

“Wa—wife? I am no longer your wife, Nao.”

Mrs. Zenin clears her throat and put an envelope on the table, “he didn’t signed the papers so technically, you are still his wife, Y/N. And please, just call me ‘mama’, I kinda feel old when you uses formalities on me.”

“I found you again, Y/N.”

First snowfall, Naoya Zenin finds his way back to me.

•life never ends here•

THANK YOU FOR READING 😊😊❤️❤️

icon artist’s profile: https://pin.it/1TnFoH6

[abizarreyodelingincident]

LU: Our Nightly Confidant 2

Deserted Hyrule

It could be worse.

Don't get him wrong. He'd gone through far more dangerous situations with not nearly as much ressources, or the faint hope that someone would notice and come help him. He's actually fairly confident he won't die in this ditch. A few factors led him to that conclusion.

For starters, his legs are no longer broken. And he isn't in his Hyrule, so chances are, he's not in immediate and urgent danger of being found by hungry monsters. Which is a very big positive note, because he currently can't do much more than lift a finger. Healing takes a lot out of him, but healing himself is so much worse. Taking his own energy to repair the damage, also a demanding thing to ask of his body... well, he's pretty resigned to spending the night at the bottom of this ravine if none of the others find him before nightfall.

Light is dimming, already hindered by the thick foliage all around him, worsened by the imminent sunset. Shadows crawl on the dirt and the bark of trees, tall spindly things. And yet, it still lacks the sort of venomous promises of home. Back home, no one slept in a forest if they could help it. No one with the will to live, at least. Here? He has the feeling he'll, at worse, be spooked once or twice.

The wind turns, again, and it strokes his hair like a kind old man's hand would. It's strange how appeasing the whistling in his ears feel reassuring. It's nothing like he is used to. Winds don't just stop and start all over again naturally. There's a presence in these woods. Something ancient, tied in the blood of the land. Some Hyrules feel more alive than others. This one is striving, brimmed with an undercurrent of Light.

Twilight had told them not to wander into the woods. It's got a lot of hidden ravines, he said, and poison mists. Hyrule cringes a bit remembering the heavy look aimed at him and Wild. Were he able to travel through time, he'd tell his past self to pay attention. He might have been too confident in his ability to avoid the danger. Poison and sheer drops should have been second nature for him at this point. Between his fairy and his jump spell, he had this covered.

That's probably why he fell now that he thinks about it. He never thought bushes could hide that kind of drop. They never grew around the mountains and hills of his era. The thought brings heat to his cheeks. The Hero of Hyrule, laid low by some harmless bushes.

“Maybe it's best the others don't find me right away. An hour, give or take, and I'll be able to scale this,” he mutters to himself, blushing.

The snap of a twig grips his heart in a vice grip. With what little energy he has, Hyrule snaps his head around to face a large shadowed wolf.

“W-Wolfie?” he asks, his voice uneven.

The bark that is his reply somehow sounds sarcastic. A drawled 'woof' that's like rumbling clouds.

“Huh.”

Despite his better judgement, Hyrule does relax. It's hard not to when faced with something that baffling.

“The others sent you to get me?” he says, remembering the last time the beast had spent hours leading him and Wild through the woods. That glare scorched. “Right, right... huh, think you could wait a few minutes.”

It's not much better tonight.

“Sorry, Wolfie. I got injured in the fall. I healed, but it's taken its toll.”

Worry makes the wolf's face shift. A cold nose pushes against his foot, and Hyrule chuckles at the tickling sensation.

“I'm fine. It's... just a bit of rest should do the trick... I give you a lot of work, don't I?” I am a burden, a failure, he doesn't say.  

With a huff, Wolfie rolls his eyes and lifts his head. For a second there, Hyrule has to blink, convinced the light of dusk is playing a trick on him, but no, Wolfie's fur is darkening. From grey to black. Like ink spilled on top of him, bleeding over his entire form until even his eyes are swallowed into the darkness.

He flinches back, willing his hand to grab his sword. Ache, he thinks. He's been a fool! He was so willing to believe his luck had turned he'd forgotten the most basic safety precautions of his time!

Blocks of darkness fly off Wolfie's silhouette, which somehow doesn't change. Doesn't stretch into a standing position and a face full of mocking fangs. Wolfie disappears in a flurry of pure black and Hyrule's brain stutters to a miserable stop.

And then, just above, the darkness gathers, swirls together. And out emerges Wolfie, same as ever, with the markings on his forehead and the chains clanking against the edges of the ravine. Teleportation.

“You can use magic?!” Hyrule yells, forgetting all about keeping a low profile in the face of that shock. Animals aren't supposed to know magic! Most monsters can't use it!

For some reason Hyrule can't wrap his head around, his shout causes Wolfie to pause. His next movement is more careful, a little more hunched, and he disappears beyond the edge of the cliff, a hint of his tail the only sign that Wolfie has turned around.

Sky would tell him that it's another sign that Hylia is watching over them. That she sent Wolfie as a sort of messenger to pass along hope. Something like that. And Legend would have the hardest time keeping his disdain off his face. For all he was prickly, he also had a sixth sense for what was and wasn't an unacceptable line to cross.

Hyrule... Hyrule doesn't know who he leans toward in that case. Before this quest, he'd have no clue, not because he was uncertain, but because he didn't know what a goddess was supposed to be then. Now that he does, it lacks... appeal. It doesn't help that none of the others can exactly agree who and what the goddesses of the world are, what's the point of belief.

'Faith that there's a way to save yourself,' rings Legend's bitten answer, whispered late at night.

It's probably a coincidence that the moment the memory plays out rope drops quite directly into his hand.

Wolfie is looking down, a low huff and nod for him to grab onto the rope. Even though his every limbs are weighted with iron, he has to give it a fair try.

And he drops the moment he's on his feet.

The dizziness hits worse with the echoes of a panicked bark over the howling wind. He has to close his eyes for a second. What he wouldn't give for a potion right now.

A rough texture licks the back of his hand. It's not anything he ever got to experience before. What few dogs he knew before this were more the sort to bite than offer comfort. And that's what it is, comfort, an apology, maybe, for pushing. Slowly, he opens his eyes, comes face to face with Wolfie, who lets out a pitiful whine.

“Sorry,” Hyrule repeats. “I don't think I can climb that.”

The ears flick on top of Wolfie's head, and he grabs the rope in his mouth. Circles him quickly. Oh. That could work. Together, they manage to tie the rope around his waist, secure it tightly, and Wolfie's gone again. The tugs start right away.

It's uncomfortable at best, but he's not about to complain. Who ever heard of a wolf pulling someone up a cliff before? Throwing someone a length of rope? He figures the discomfort is his punishment for not listening. It doesn't last long regardless. He has to blink back the sleep when his back scrapes on dirt. Groans. Thinks.

Now that he knows Wolfie can use magic, the scolding feels even worse. He's not scared. Just... the weight of those eyes grew. It's not just Wild's tame wolf being sent after him. It's a thinking beast annoyed at his recklessness. He should know better, the glare inside his head tells him.

He bites his tongue. The words don't want to come out.

Wolfie crouches low and nudges him with his nose, hints at his back. An invitation. It makes shame curdle inside his stomach. He can feel it sloshing around. The ravine suddenly sounds appealing. But he can't do that to Wolfie. Not twice in a row. He only has to swallow a bit of embarrassment. He's lucky. So lucky. Most people just die.

Few people ever seem to live in his era.

Wolfie's fur is still unfairly soft even when he can feel the rolling muscles underneath. He lies on top of Wolfie, his arms hooked around the beast's neck, hoping he's not too heavy.

Wolfie makes an inquisitive sound, almost a question.

It takes Hyrule some time to realize he's waiting for an answer too.

“I, yes, I'm ready,” he says, wishing to disappear.

They start at a slow trot. His weight is an obvious burden for the beast he's seen rocket through a battlefield to maul a monster about to strike one of them. His next apology might not even be said out loud. Hyrule's not sure anymore.

Wolfie feels like a well-hidden cave or a barricaded inn room at night. Deep breathes after a sprint to escape a horde. The buzz of magic in his veins, full, potent, ready to fry a daring monster. Face half-buried in his friend's coat, Hyrule's eyelids grow heavy. The exhaustion of his accident, pushed aside by the meeting with Wolfie, is returning with a vengeance.

He listens to the rhythm of Wolfie's steady heartbeat. The breaking of twigs and brushing of leaves on fur. Little grunts when the wolf goes over large roots and the scritches of claws on bark.

“I... I used to be pretty scared of wandering off, you know?” he whispers into the wall of fur.

Wolfie swerves and twists, his big head turning just enough to give Hyrule a glimpse of a wide blue eye. Shock is an understatement.

He can't help it. He chuckles and runs a hand just behind Wolfie's ears, the way Time does on rare occasions. He is rewarded with a huff and a jolt when Wolfie picks up the pace again.

“It's a dangerous business, going out your doors. So I never did, until one day there was no one left and the food had run out. Then an old man gave me a sword. That's the kindest thing a stranger ever did for me,” he says, fond, the bearded old man flashing through his memory.

A quiet whine rings to his ears. Wolfie's posture lowers. Hyrule can't quite tell what it means. Is the wolf tired? Ashamed? Exasperated? He's not sure. But now that he started talking, it's harder to stop.

“Once in a while, I'd meet people that would help me. Offer me shelter. Help me treat my wounds. But nothing like that first time. When I first wandered around, past the little alcove that had been my home forever, into the great vastness of my country. And it was a hundred times bigger than I could imagine from my little hole in the ground. That old man... gave me the world.”

Fireflies fly above, and Hyrule leaves his thoughts to trail off. These woods are lovely. Yes, even with the hidden drops and the ravines with whistling winds, with the deku babas here and there that leer at the wolf too far for them to reach... all he sees is a forest thriving, so full of life it's in the very air he breathes.

“I... Poisonous mists didn't sound so bad. I've got tons of poisonous rivers, full of hostile zoras. Poisonous swamps, full of monsters. Heck, poisonous caves too... My Hyrule's pretty harsh, y'know?”

A grunt. Not angry. Just... a grunt.

“Don't get me wrong, it's my home. I love it. And I'm not jealous. I'm not!”

Even though Wolfie is looking forward, never faltering from the obstacles on his path, Hyrule can feel Wolfie's full attention bearing down on him. Can feel the anticipation, the worry. And a knot in his chest unties itself long enough for a fear never voiced to suddenly latch onto words and thoughts.

“But how will I look the princesses in the eye if I can't even describe to them what the world would be like without Ganon's influence? If I can't give them hope for a bright future when I've been to those futures myself? I don't want to fail them.”

Fur soaks up a stray tear or two.

His tongue refuses to move anymore. They make the rest of the trip in silence.

                                                  ***

The others, indeed, hadn't been very pleased, but Hyrule had more or less fallen asleep before the eldests (minus Twilight somehow) had finished berating him. He'd woken up just before dawn, greeted Four still on the third watch, and busied himself until the inevitable. He's not looking forward to the concealed worry on Legend's face or the exasperation on Warriors'.

He hovers on the outskirts of the camp.

Which is where he notices, at first lights, their goatherd breaking away from the group. 'Probably going to relieve himself' is Hyrule's guess. It could have been true, but when the others start stirring, Hyrule's hit by a bunch of nerves. Nothing wrong happened to Twilight, right? It's his era, he can't have been taken out by a surprise cliff, right?

He takes off in the direction he saw his elder leave. And, luckily, he's easy to spot in the plains of Hyrule Fields. There's little but grass and the occasional tree here. Yet, Twilight's crouching behind a rock.

Puzzled, Hyrule lowers himself to the ground and tiptoes near Twilight.

“What's going on? Is there an enemy nearby?”

Twilight hides part of his grin by putting a finger to his lips. In his other hand, he's holding some strange weapon. With a long wooden handle and then a circular hand, with... a cloth hood? He... is that something to suffocate your enemy? It's a violent thought, and he doesn't quite associate it with Twilight, their farmhand, their goatherd, who'll whistle with grass on a slow evening.

It's twice as strange for the lack of visible monsters around. He prays it's not another round of  moas or kasutos...

Responding to an unheard signal, Twilight stalks forward. Crawls on his knees, slow and patient. The pelt on his back is coming alive in Hyrule's mind. He needs to blink, to chase away the image of a wild animal, and by the time he does, Twilight is pouncing, weapon striking a tree.

“Gotcha,” Twilight says, pumping a fist.

“Huh?” He couldn't see a thing. Did he forget the cross somewhere...?

“Hyrule, come here.”

Twilight's hands are cupped together, hiding something from view. It immediately tickles his curious side, who can't help lean forward.

He gasps.

The bug's shell glimmers in the morning light. Specks of dust around it catch its glow. Sparkle. He's never seen an animal like this. With hesitant fingers, he makes a reaching motion. A very faint hums of magic brushes against his finger before the beetle scurries backward. That's Twilight's cue, it seems, and the bug is dropped into a glass bottle, cork sealing it in. He can't help the pang of envy that pierces through his heart at the sight.

Twilight rubs the back of his neck, rueful. “Never been big on going out of my village, it's the farmer in me, but darn if some things don't feel worth the risk. Home's nice, but Hyrule as a whole... s'a place of wonder for me.”

“It is,” Hyrule says, unable to quite look away from the little thing.

“Want to keep it?”

And Hyrule's heart is sent into a stuttering mess, his hands clenching around the little glass bottle so hard he fears it'll break.

“I... can I?”

He doesn't dare hope yet.

Twilight's mouth pulls into a wry grin. “Sure thing. Bit of a hobby of mine at this point. Bug catching, I mean. There's this girl in Castletown that used to pay me to find some for her. I scoured my whole Hyrule looking to find all the golden bug species. Fetched me a pretty rupee.”

“Oh, huh, right, lemme see how much I-”

“Don't be daft, 'Rule,” Twilight says, slapping him between his shoulder blades. “You don't make brothers pay. 'specially not for a bug, of all things. I'll find a dozen the next time I look. Mind you, you might wanna check on 'em once you're back. Queen Zelda told me them buggers can spread like nobody's business. They think each other's shell's pretty too.”

A wink.

And there's a vision in his mind, of golden lights fluttering through Saria Town at night. Of colonies of radiant ants scuttering in the burning hills and shining dragonflies hanging from reeds. He thinks of that gentle warmth from the beetle's shell, spread like dots over ravaged countryside. Little, in the face of poisoned wells and bone-thin monsters. Little, just a sign that it's not only evil that thrives. Would that be so bad?

Hyrule's mouth feels a bit dry. He swallows, dares meet Twilight's gaze. “Would it be okay if... if we looked for more of them?”

Twilight's blue eyes – nearly the same shade as Wild's wolf – flicker back to the camp, and Hyrule fights to keep the disappointment off his face. Of course. Twilight is one of the responsible Heroes. Someone the others say has 'common sense' – that Hyrule never seems to grasp. Going on a bug catching quest was a nice thought, but they obviously can't. They have a mission. The others would disapprove.  

And then, Twilight turns back to him with a look that's startlingly like Wild's. “How fast can you run?”

He stalls. “I, dunno, the monsters never caught me, but-”

“Good enough for me.”

The bug net is shoved into Hyrule's hands, and it's all he can do to grip it before it slips through his fingers. Yet the moment he's holding it, Twilight bolts, waving a hand to beckon him.

This... this he can do. Running's easy. Stamina's simple. He's never had trouble pacing himself. It's easy, comforting, to sprint after Twilight's back. For once, his eyes don't wander to the breathtaking beauty of a Hyrule spared the King of Evil's malice. They stay firmly on the black pelt strapped to Twilight's back, the swaying tail at his belt, the pulled hood and ears. There's the same comfort there, the same... magic he found in resting his head against Wolfie's fur. The same promise. Safety.

It's not a feeling he is used to. But he loves it.

And he runs, a wide smile on his face, already eager to show the princesses the wonders that their Hyrule might one day have.

[shadow-scenarios]

Omggg how you wrote out my request certainly surprised me but I totally enjoyed what you did with it!! And you said that you'd love to write a second part? Well, may I perhaps request that? 👀👀 (P.S.: I'm really relieved that you liked the idea haha, I've been sitting on it for awhile)

Hey again, simulationone!! I’m happy you like the direction I look it in. I was going to have the Reader become Akechi’s Navigator but I think that was a better direction to take it. Also, I tried a different style with this one, so I hope you like it!!

I loved the idea, it was so unique! If you have anything else that you want to request, you’re more than welcome to. By the way, this is suuuper angsty. If you don’t like that kind of thing, skip this post!!

Link to Part 1 here!!

- Nexus.

Trigger Warning: Major Character Death ;; Blood ;; Violence ;; Injuries ;; Swearing

Dance With Justice [2] | Goro Akechi

Perhaps there was a reality where she never had to hurt anyone. A world in which the Phantom Thieves never existed & justice was never an issue. Everyone could simply be happy without any concerns. However, thus was not her current fate.

This was never supposed to happen. She was going to die here, stuck in Mementos until she bled out.

{ Sat, 23 / 10 / 20XX }

Akechi had laid the plan out to her on this day: He had been given an opportunity to meet with the Phantom Thieves at the Shujin Academy. In particular, there was a panel in which a Q&A style show was being held. All they had to do was attend & imply they knew the identities of the Phantom Thieves before he ‘ inconveniently received a phone call ’. Afterwards, the group would be forcibly assembled in the Faculty Room & there they would unfurl the evidence. The photos the both of them had gathered & the video of them disappearing into the Metaverse.

As a result, they would be forced to stop committing their crimes after they took down the Palace of one individual in particular: Sae Niijima. He did admit that he was afraid for the life of his colleague because she was investigating the Phantom Thieves. If they were the perpetrators behind the metal shutdowns, she might be targeted next because she was seen as a threat.

However, there was one thing they were not to be informed about. The additional plan to arrest their leader as a warning of sorts. Additional police forces were to be sent out into the Metaverse & they would corner him when he was alone. It was quite simple but effective. All they had to do was cooperate with them.

This was all communicated to her over lunch in the school rooftop & she nodded, steeling her resolve.

{ Wed, 26 / 10 / 20XX }

Alas, the school festival came too quickly. The first day was ‘ unimportant ’, according to Akechi { although he did look rather embarrassed when she asked what happened with the Phantom Thieves... }.

It was about 20 minutes before the panel was due to start & she had already taken a seat somewhere near the centre. People were already gathered at this point because the Famous Ace Detective: Goro Akechi was going to be answering questions. Frankly, she found it quite creepy the levels most fans went to in order to see him.

Eventually the debate began. Makoto Niijima, student Council President, was hosting & essentially demanded answers related to his detective work reguarding the Phantom Theives. It was immensely impressive how he managed to dance around the answers, giving something vague yet satisfying. Was this is the life of a celebrity?

The question about the identity of the mysterious group soon came up. As her cue came, she texted him & there was the sound of Akechi’s ringtone going off. Silence spread through the auditorium in a strange mix of disappointment & comedic timing. After making a remark along the lines of not wanting to be trolled online, he quickly requested that a break be tacked on.

Quietly, she moved her way across the row & slipped out before the crowd could congest any corridors. The PE Faculty Office was easy enough to find, with many students easily offering directions. Slipping in before anyone else, there he stood.

“ Akechi. Are you ready for this? There’s no going back after we present the evidence. ”

“ Of course. The Phantom Thieves are a menace to society & by getting rid of them, people will finally feel safe in Japan. That’s what you want as well, right? ”

“ Yeah. Murderers aren’t welcome. ”

Once they had all entered, she presented the photographic evidence & introduced herself. Ryuji was in shock. Makoto seemed to be struggling to process the information. Explaining how both herself & Akechi had met, she pressed onto the point: Sae Niijima. She had to be saved from the mental shutdown culprits. An agreement of sorts was made by their rather stoic leader Akira. They would all work together to solve the cases.

{ Wed, 16 / 10 / 20XX & Thurs 17 / 11 / 20XX }

After the initial investigation into Sae’s Palace, keywords & location, these were the days of infiltration, so to speak. The Casino of Jealousy was vibrant & full of money. Coins were messily spread around on every single surface, posters containing snappy tag lines about how winning was key to survival. It was all so decadent. Cognitive shadows lined up for a chance to participate in the game known as the legal system. What a sick way to look at justice.

Despite the crimes they had committed, the Phantom Theives were very casual. They showed no symptoms of guilt nor doubt & insisted on these strangely flashy moves such as the All-Out Attack or the Showtime, in which they would defeat a bundle of enemies all at once. Although they were powerful, did they really feel the need to show off that much?

The other problem was their leader, Joker. He was tenaciously gripping onto both herself & Akechi { or Crow, was it? She never understood the need for the ridiculous code names... } to remain on the front lines to see what they could both do. Despite having bounds of energy at the beginning & regular breaks, it was quite tiring to keep having to constantly battle. Perhaps that was why she ended up being held captive by a Shadow.

It demanded Yen & safety. It was not a substantial amount of money & the Palace’s supposed ‘ Security Level ’ was not particularly high. She had seen how Akira had been picking through remains of the corpses of these beings, as they contained Yen. For some unknown reason during the negotiation, he simply refused to part. Apparently Joker, the supposed leader of the just Phantom Thieves believed some money more important than an ally.

Even as the shadow tore through skin & left almost fatal wounds, it hurt more to reaffirm her belief that the Phantom Theives were merciless.

Waking up was a surprise to be sure. To be greeted by Akechi in the nearest Safe Room asking if she was okay? It was very much a shock. He offered to patch up the wounds that were unreadable by her own hands & scolded her for being so reckless on that battlefield. It was good that both Queen & Mona were on hand, otherwise she would have died. Despite the presence of the other members of the group, this felt like a rather intimate moment.

The two of them kept having these strange moments: Delicately & intimate but as though something was missing.

A touch that lingered for longer than it needed to; Comforting words on a cool evening when she felt upset; Sitting within close proximity despite there being more space for the two of them than needed. Small signs that seemed to be hesitantly trying to convey something.

Even now as she paused to take in his appearance, it was startling. Dressed up in his princely regalia that was his Metaverse outfit, he looked rather charming. With golden tassels & a red cape, something about him seemed to just ooze noble. Though at times he could be slightly extra with the poses he pulled, Akechi was kind.

That was why she never saw it coming.

{ Thurs, 18 / 10 / 20XX }

Signaling for a meeting, Akira explained that they were going to write & send the Calling Card today. The debate about where to send it was long, strenuous & boring. After they eventually decided to be direct by mailing it to the Niijima residence, everyone disbanded for the day.

Aside for Akechi, who invited her to play Darts in Kichijoji. What a strange request.

The atmosphere was actually rather calming. At night, there were few around to disturb them. Handing over 800 Yen to play, the game began. It was nice to simply be able to talk about something unrelated to the Phantom Thieves for the both of them & although Akechi’s aim was unerring, she found it rather difficult to hit the tiny target, let alone land it in a specific place to score as many points as possible. After a while & with some expert advice, there was definitely some improvement.

By the time night struck, she had barely noticed until he had pointed it out. Everything was moving so swiftly. Offering to walk her to the train station, he was ever so polite. Until it rained.

It absolutely poured down with rain as the two of them descended the stairs of Penguin Sniper. Luckily, she had packed an umbrella into a crevice in her bag. The detective next to her? Not quite as fortunate as he sighed. Feeling bad, she offered to share & he accepted with reluctance after realising that it was better than the alternative of running home in the rain.

Being this close was both enthralling & embarrassing. Something about being forced this close to him was killing her. Akechi seemed to be doing alright, staying underneath to avoid both his hair & briefcase from becoming drenched by the cascading water. After a while that was in some respects a long time but in others not long at all, they reached the train station, parting ways when they had a difference in train line.

She knew exactly what she was feeling: There was no use in denial. Repressing such feelings would be more painful in the end. However, now was not the time to tell him. Catching the Phantom Thieves & saving Japan was more important than a high school romance. Filing the secret away for later, it was kept close to her heart.

{ Fri, 19 / 10 / 20XX }

It was almost too easy how quick everything was to fall into place. Putting on her best acting face was difficult but it was a believable lie, especially when most of the stress was based around getting Joker out alive. All their valiant efforts were for nothing. Similar to a spider spinning a web to catch prey, they had fallen victim.

After facing down the shadow of Sae Niijima herself on this strange roulette like battlefield, her desperate desire to achieve victory at all costs was her downfall & as she fell to her knees, clearly defeated, Queen went over to comfort her. Skull took Fox with him to steal the Treasure & once they discovered the numerous police forces that had made their way into the Metaverse, everything was taken up a notch.

Whilst Joker agreed to take the Treasure, thus becoming a distraction, everyone else would take the time to escape back to reality. A makeshift plan but one that would work in both her own & Akechi’s favour. Dashing along the protruding walls of the casino was thrilling as the group moved in sync, grappling along & weaving through like a natural born instinct.

Inevitably, he was captured. The leader of the Phantom Thieves, put behind bars. People would be safe from the mental shutdowns, they would no longer have to worry about having a psychotic breakdown. Without the branch that held them all together, there were no roots. As to not arouse suspicions, everyone parted ways until Akechi stopped her.

“ I... Know it’s rather late & we’ve just been to the Palace but there’s something I need to warn you about in the Metaverse. Will you join me in Mementos tomorrow morning? Preferably before school, if that’s okay with you, ” was all he requested with a ghost of a smile.

“ Sure, I don’t mind. Is there something else dangerous I should be worrying about? ”

“ It’s nothing too urgent but I thought I’d bring it to your attention since we are working on this case with the Phantom Thieves together. After all, we still need to hold the others accountable for their actions. ”

With that, she left. Akechi had always been a reliable source of information, so why would he lie?

{ Sat, 20 / 10 / 20XX }

It was the early morning. Despite the cold, she was in warm spirits as she approached the Shibuya line. Waiting there for her was the Detective Prince himself. Overnight, there was a decision made that once Akechi broke this bad news to her that she would change the mood by confessing. After all, it would be difficult to keep under lock & key.

Fading into the background as other students filtered in, they talked for a short period of time before getting down to business. Typing in ‘ Mementos ’ to the MetaNav was easy enough & there they were, standing at the dusty entrance.

Together, they fought their way down into a few floors below the surface. Although it took longer for them to traverse these levels due to not having a method of transportation such as the Mona Car, the Shadows were easy pickings for the two of them. At least, that is what she thought until two laser blasts from a ray gun burnt into her back.

Standing over her was a very different Goro Akechi to the person she had preciously known. What was once a charismatic smile that could charm anyone become a psychotic grin that looks unnaturally wide. Though she had once thought of his eyes as a storm of emotions, worries about the future & the safety of Japan, they were most definitely a typhoon, pulling victims in to tear them apart without a trace of mercy. Even as he called her a blind fool for trusting him & berated her sense of justice, the burning pain of the wounds that burnt through the Metaverse outfit were clouding her vision. She could have sworn there was the sound of someone walking away but there was too many sensations for her to clearly tell.

No one was going to find a dead body in the depths of Mementos. She found it morbidly ironic that her last thought was that she would never be able to tell Akechi how she truly felt.

Word Count: 2.3k

Publish Date: 06.10.20

[takerfoxx]

The Owl House, Season 1, Episode 8, “Once Upon a Swap,” First Impressions!

I see what they’re getting at, but...

So last episode was heavily focused on the series’ main draw: the dynamic between Luz and Amity and their developing relationship. As such, it makes sense to pull things back for the next episode and do a more self-contained wacky, fun adventure, which is what I expected them to do.

But while I liked this episode and laughed a lot, it was kind of...

Well, we’ll get to that later.

Anyway, what’s our plot? While manning Eda’s human novelties booth, Luz, Eda, and King get into an argument about who has the most difficult life, with each believing that the other has it pretty easy. To solve this, Eda just spontaneously has them switch bodies and live a day in someone’s else’s shoes, with Eda going into King’s body, King going into Luz, and Luz going into Eda. So it’s a deliberate Freaky Friday setup, complete with a blatant shoutout to the actual movie.

Now, this is a funny, and I really like the new designs for the characters, especially King in Luz’s body. Like, she (or he?) just looks outright feral now, and it’s great. But my main question is...why? Why did Eda immediately do this? Their argument didn’t seem to be much more serious than their usual banter, so why choose to do something so dangerous so quickly? I mean, she’s scolded Luz for being reckless many times in the past, and she just lets Luz take her body for a ride, magic and all? It’s kind of like the Hexus Holdem game and her addiction to it, it just kind of comes out of nowhere. 

But whatever. They part ways to enjoy what they perceive to be each other’s easy life. With Eda, she wanders into the demon equivalent of a Cat Cafe, and at first is enjoying being pampered. But then she finds out that the propeitors are kinda nuts and are literally brainwashing all the cat-demons in their care until they lose all sense of self, and now she can’t escape and has to wear a Bee costume and be cute.

King jumps headfirst into the whole mischievous teen thing, taking over a group of rowdy teens and leads them on a day of pranks, until one of them has enough and challenges him to a race, which goes wrong due to a busted track, he accidentally smashes their clubhouse, and things devolve from there.

As for Luz, she has fun using Eda’s magic to spice up the human novelties booth and grandly turns on the showwomanship, but just as Eda predicted this attracts the attention of the town guards, who arrest her and take her to prison, where she’s interrogated by none other than Lilith, who is still trying to convince her to quit a life of crime and join the Emperor’s Guild. Forcibly. Luz is having none of that, and hijinks ensues.

Naturally, the three friends then cross paths, save each other, switch their bodies back, and escape by having all of their pursuers switch their bodies instead, and they all learn a valuable lesson about not dismissing the hardships of others.

Okay, again, this was a very funny episode, but it just left me scratching my head. First, why did Eda do this? She just hit the spell almost immediately. Wouldn’t it have made more sense if they switched bodies by accident and THEN decided to have their contest? 

Also, the whole premise of the contest doesn’t make any sense, since their new lives got derailed by some very special circumstances that their bodies’ original owners wouldn’t have found themselves in (save possibly for Luz in Eda’s body). King only lost because of the road being out and him landing directly on the clubhouse by pure chance. And if Eda had gotten back to the Owl House, she really would have had a fine time lazing about instead of randomly running into the deranged cat cafe. 

Also, if Eda is so powerful that Luz can literally bust free by accident despite being in handcuffs and held in maximum security with Lilith right there, what is Eda even afraid of? And why don’t the guards have magic cancelling handcuffs? Shouldn’t that be what they want to disable?

But again, it was still a very funny episode. I just felt that the justification for the body swap was a little weak.