#So actually stopping to think about it for more than .2 seconds suddenly exploded my brain lol thanks for that

[sysig]

Hey! For requestober, would you please draw something cute with Jake and Scriabin (once Scri gets his own body)? Maybe in a Wish Fulfilment kind of AU where Jake sticks around for Edgar/Scri? I just love the idea of a setting where they get to really meet and have it go well, esp after reading Scri's reaction to Jake in Convalescence. <3 If Edgar was involved in the piece too, that would be lovely, but I'd really appreciate it with just the two, as well. Thanks so much!

Day 1 - Satisfaction

[happilyhertale]

Long Last Love - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader, Part 2

Summary: You are finally engaged to Aemond Targaryen. As the daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra, you will now live in King's Landing and no longer on Dragonstone. Your marriage to Aemond is imminent, as is your life together. The relationship between Aemond and your family has never been particularly easy, but the future will show whether your love will withstand this and subsequent tensions.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: In some parts Smut (uncle/niece) as well as violence

Author’s note: Hi you (:

This is the follow-up story to "Long Lost Love".

The story starts just before the wedding of Aemond and y/n and goes over the events of the first season hotd. However, the events are not quite similar to those in the series. English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 5k

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

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A few weeks have passed. Your wedding with Aemond is getting closer and closer. Actually, you were relatively relaxed. You talked a lot with Alicent and Helaena about your wedding. Even Aemond was present from time to time, but wants to let you have the upper hand in the decisions. You suspect, however, that he would rather be in the training yard than sitting with you over tea and cake planning your wedding. You can't really blame him, but in the last few weeks you've just talked too much about flowers, about Lords and Ladies who come to the capital just for you, or which musicians should play for you and you just want him to suffer with you. Even at a certain point, you only agreed with Alicent and Helaena when they came towards you excitedly in a corridor to tell you thrilling news about your wedding. You are very grateful to them for taking so much work off your hands, but you just long to be married to Aemond without all that big fuss.

A new turn in all the preparations came when your family arrived in King's Landing. They arrived at the beginning of the week and since then you have been struggling with a lot of nervousness.

You really realised it when you sat with your family as well as Alicent and Helaena. You had cake and instead of tea, there was wine and then Alicent came up with the idea of discussing the plans for the wedding. Again. Your mother nearly exploded with excitement. At first you were annoyed for a moment because you'd already talked too much about your wedding and you'd rather hear what was going on at Dragonstone. But as you watch Alicent and your mother's excitement rise together and your eyes fall on your father, who just nods at you with a grin, you suddenly become nervous. You don't know exactly why, you were just nervous. Maybe it was because Jace and Luke were teasing you with something, but suddenly you needed a lot of wine.

The nervousness didn't diminish and it even got worse when some other important families arrived.

When you happened to walk across the courtyard and paid no attention to the carriage that was just arriving, thanks to your nervousness, you were swept off your feet. Without warning, someone grabbed you from behind and spun you around in circles. You scream.

"Princess, I know you're happy to see me, but I'd rather make you scream in a different way!"

As he sets you down you turn around. Your mouth is open in disbelief and you hit him.

"Rob!"

He laughs.

"You can't say things like that, I'm about to get wed!"

He grins at you, "Almost married means not yet married"

You have to stifle a laugh, "You're really terrible, you know that?"

"That's why I'm not allowed to marry the princess," he winks at you as more northern lords appear behind him.

"I think the northern lords need to move into their chambers now and stop teasing the bride-to-be," you smile at him.

"As you wish, Princess," and he bows his head briefly.

You take a step forward and hug him, "Thank you for coming"

He hugs you back, "Of course I will come if the Princess commands it"

You release the hug and chuckle, "Oh good gods, I may live to regret this"

"Only time will tell," he smiles at you again and goes to join his Northmen. Dreamily you stand in place for a moment until you turn and walk into the keep.

Now that Rob has also arrived, you realise again how close your wedding is.

Even Aemond regularly makes fun of your nervousness, which seeps out of your every pore.

Whether it's because you can't eat properly and your food actually just moves from right to left on your plate, or that you don't give him the attention he's used to when he talks to you or gently runs his fingers over you.

However, what reassures you a little is the fact that your wedding will be on a small scale. Compared to the wedding of Aegon and Helaena.

You didn't want a wedding with one ball after another, countless dinners and everything crowned with a hunt. Aemond was all for you. Like you, he can well do without being the centre of attention at several events.

Alicent was not entirely convinced at first. She would also have liked to celebrate your wedding in a big way, as was the case with Aegon and Helaena. She felt that Aemond deserved to be celebrated in the same way.

You, on the other hand, preferred a traditional Valyrian wedding on Dragonstone, no fuss, just you and your families.

But Alicent denied you this wish on the grounds that the expense would be too great to hold an entire wedding on Dragonstone. However, she accepted that you did not want a big wedding. So you resigned yourselves to this and celebrated your wedding in King's Landing, albeit on a smaller scale than Aegon and Helaena.

It is also reassuring for you that your parents are present. Your mother notices that you are nervous about the wedding and often talks to you about it to ease your nervousness. Again and again, she assures you that she is happy for you, that you have the opportunity to marry for love, as she has always wanted for you. At least as often, she assures you that Aemond would be accepted as part of the family.

Even your father seems even more loving than usual. He is often by your side and holds you in his arms just as often. His comments are also less annoying or he even refrains from them altogether. He even tolerates Amond's regular presence, even talks to him sometimes. Not much, but a few sentences are exchanged. And all this just to be with you.

You even feel that your brothers are nicer to Aemond. They also talk to him from time to time. Aemond is reserved, but you appreciate that your brothers try.

If you manage to get away from your family, you spend your time with Aemond. But this week you don't have much time together. All the time someone wants something from you. Be it because important things have to be decided for the wedding that Alicent and your mother don't want to decide alone or because some important Lord and Lady want to talk to you. Most of the time you don't have much to say anyway, you don't even follow the conversations very closely and so Aemond does the talking, his hand always resting on your lower back.

If you do have the chance to talk to each other in the evening in your chambers, one of you always falls asleep. Most of the time it's you. Your head is on his chest and you listen to him talk, but the hum in his chest and his fingers sliding over your spine tempt you to close your eyes and just as quickly you fall asleep.

But mostly you come to your chambers on your own. And the last of you to enter the chambers, which is usually Aemond, hears only soft, steady breathing. Each time you try to stay awake to at least catch him getting into bed, but sleep has you firmly in its grip each time the bed lowers beside you and Aemond slides into bed. He murmurs a "good night" in your ear as you nestle your back against his chest in your sleep.

On the morning of the wedding, you are overcome by nausea. Bravely you resist the temptation to just hang over a bowl and let it all out. Nervousness tugs at your strength, but you do your best and you try to numb the feeling with wine.

You haven't seen Aemond since yesterday afternoon. You thought it a sweet idea not to see each other last night until you met again at the altar, and so he slept in Aegon's chambers that night. But at this moment you wish for nothing more than to be in his arms for a moment. Nor did it do your sleep any good, as by now you are used to having a warm, breathing body next to you. You were even on the verge of climbing into bed with your parents, as you used to do as a child, but that somehow seemed inappropriate.

However, in order for you to be in his arms, you have to move the day forward.

Alicent, your mother as well as Helaena are scurrying around you in your chambers. With them are a handful of ladies-in-waiting, all there to get you ready for your big day. Your hair is artfully braided back at your temples for the occasion. You have thought that small braids falling freely down your back would look beautiful. And so two ladies-in-waiting stand behind you and take care of your hair.

You're sipping your next goblet of wine and Helaena is standing in front of you, she's excited that you're going to be her sister-in-law, "Oooh y/n, it's going to be great! It's not so bad being married either! Aegon ignored me after the wedding... that was quite pleasant until he came to my chambers in the evening.... but even that was okay in the end... he was even almost gentle..." she looks dreamy for a moment but then jumps up and down, "... and Aemond is much more affectionate than Aegon anyway! You'll like it!" You smile at her. You know that she only means well, but still that doesn't really reassure you.

A large mirror stands in the middle of the room. It has been brought into your chambers so that you can see the full extent of your appearance. In the mirror, you see Alicent and Rhaenyra holding your dress in their hands and talking about it. They smile almost lovingly at each other as they slide the fabric through their fingers.

You love your dress. There have been many discussions about your dress. Mostly there has been extensive discussion about what colours should adorn it. Your family would have liked to see a black dress with red applications. Alicent, however, would have liked to see a dark green dress. Aemond didn't care because he finds every dress on you irresistible. But you didn't like all that. You made up your own mind and decided on an ivory white dress, bright gold applications adorn the length of your dress.

Your hair has just been braided when your mother steps in front of you with your dress and smiles at you. You nod to her as more ladies-in-waiting approach you and help you into your dress. It is carefully put on and tied at the back.

Your dress is tight to the waist. Your arms are covered by light sleeves of silk fabric that barely touch your elbows. And although you love it when your dress is held together at the front with buckles, you have decided against this for your wedding dress. You have a plunging neckline, but not as revealing as usual. You're conjured up a perfect cleavage and your dress ends just below the base of your breasts.

The necklace you once received from your father for your name day adorns your cleavage. It lies gently on your skin and ends with the sapphire above the base of your breasts. Lightly you let your fingers glide over it and you have to smile.

In the end, all the ladies in the room stand before you and smile at you, and both your mother and Alicent have tears in their eyes. You cannot help but laugh nervously. Your mother steps towards you and hugs you gently.

You take another deep breath as your mother takes your hand and leads you out of your chambers.

Together you walk through the corridors of the Red Keep and everyone you meet is amazed at how pretty you look. You smile shyly at them and thank them. But after countless shouts of "Aaahw!", you are just happy when you step out into the courtyard.

Your carriage is waiting in front of the Red Keep. As you enter the courtyard, you see your father already standing with your brothers and they are talking. Your father looks at you when he hears you approaching. He smiles and an "Aaahw" leaves his lips. You raise your hand, "No. Please no more ahws"

You exhale heavily as you stand in front of him. He strokes your cheek and can't suppress a grin, "Nervous?" You nod and look up at him.

He hugs you carefully, being careful not to mess up your hair and dress. When he releases you from the embrace, he looks at you again, "You don't have to be nervous. It will be over sooner than you think. Believe me, I've had my experiences.... And you look really beautiful"

He gently caresses your cheek as you smile at him, "Thank you Daddy..."

He drops his hands gently on your shoulders as he grins at you again, "And you certainly don't have to worry about your wedding night anymore"

Your eyes grow huge, "Daddy!" Your cheeks turn red as he winks at you. You hit him lightly and look to the side, biting lightly on your lower lip.

He takes your hand, your mother is in the carriage by now, Jace smiles at you again, "See you in the sept," you nod at him and smile.

Your father leads you into the carriage. As you sit down and you notice that the carriage is slowly starting to move, you reach for the wine that is waiting there. You are very happy that such a thing has been thought of.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

You look at your father and shake your head slightly.

Suddenly you see him reach under his waistcoat and pull out a piece of bread. You have to giggle and even your mother laughs.

"What? I know my little dragon. And I can't have her getting drunk before the ceremony ... or vomiting on her future husband's chest."

You smile and gratefully accept the piece of bread. As you look out of the window, you see that the road along which the carriage is travelling is surrounded by people. They are all clapping and waving and calling to you all the time. Slowly you chew on the bread and look into the faces as they pass by. You can't quite imagine why people are queuing up along the road just because you're getting married. But it probably has something to do with a princess and a prince getting married.

You are lost in thought and hardly notice that the carriage stops. From your window you see that a huge crowd has formed.

Your mother squeezes your knee lightly as the door of the carriage opens and she gets out. Your father follows her. You remain seated in the carriage for a moment and look once more into the crowd. Your gaze falls to the other side of the carriage and to the door. You see the sept, take a deep breath and look at the ground for a moment. Your father's hand appears in the carriage door, the sign that you may get out. Slowly you stand up and walk to the door of the carriage and take your father's hand. The hand that has always given you a feeling of security, ever since you can remember. He has never failed to make you feel safe and even now he does not let you down and a feeling of security spreads through you.

Carefully you get out of the carriage and stand next to him. You smile nervously and he nods encouragingly as he slowly walks off and leads you to the entrance of the sept. You notice that your brothers' carriage has already arrived, but your mother and brothers must already be in the sept because you don't see them anywhere. Behind you, you can still hear the people cheering, which gets even louder as you emerge into their view. You glance over your shoulder briefly to see the crowd being held back by guards, you smile briefly at them as your gaze falls back to the Sept.

As you enter the entrance, you see a sea of people. Only this time it is all the Lords and Ladies who have gathered to celebrate your marriage to Aemond. You hold your father's hand tighter and he strokes it gently with his thumb.

As you let your gaze wander to the altar, you finally see him. Aemond is standing there. His back is to you, his hands are clasped behind his back and he is talking to Aegon, who is standing next to him.

His upper body is dressed in an elegant dark green velvet waistcoat. The waistcoat suits him perfectly, you think to yourself. His hair falls lightly down his back. As you notice Aegon nudges him and nods in your direction.

Slowly, Aemond turns to you. Your eyes meet and you feel a wave of heat flood through your body. As he smiles at you, you bite your lip. His smile doesn't falter for a second and you feel your nervousness lift. You are almost impatient, waiting for your father to finally walk down the aisle with you.

And then your father holds out his arm to you. He smiles at you and you take his arm. He takes the first step and you follow him. You barely notice how light music begins to play. He leads you down the corridor, past all the Lords and Ladies.

They all smile at you, some nod happily.

You get closer and closer to Aemond and can't help grinning. Aemond does the same, not once does he let you out of his sight, his smile firmly on his lips. In the meantime, you hold your father's arm and squeeze it tighter, without noticing it, until you hear him whisper, "But at the front of the altar you have to let me go"

Lightly you press your elbow into his side as you hear him chuckle.

You reach the altar. The septon stands there with Aemond, still unable to wipe the smile off his face. His hands still clasped behind his back, he stands before you with his head held high.

Daemon kisses you on the cheek and strokes it gently once more. He smiles at you, whispers another "My little dragon" and then turns to your mother, who is standing in the front row, and joins her.

Now you are facing Aemond. You have to chuckle slightly and he takes your hand in his. The septon makes his speech, but you only look Aemond in the eye. Your gaze wanders alternately from his eyes to his lips. How you would like to kiss him now. You hear him chuckle softly, and then you have to grin too. Neither of you seems to be paying attention to the septon as you hear Aemond whisper, "You look wonderful," a grin on his lips. You bite your lip.

You both look up as you hear the words, "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words."

You look at each other and each of you says the words, "Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his, and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days."

Together you finish your sentence as the Septon nods to Aemond and he embraces you. He holds you for a moment and looks into your eyes. You lose yourself in his gaze and breathe heavily. He gently caresses your cheek as he suddenly kisses you passionately. You hear a slight rumble from him as you place your hand on his chest. Time seems to stand still as you both lose yourselves in the kiss. Until you hear the septon clear his throat. Aemond slowly breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, you smile at each other.

You think you are sure you hear your father chuckle.

As you address the guests, everyone claps. Your grin adorns your whole face, the nervousness that has plagued you all this time has disappeared. A sense of pride flows through you as you stand next to your husband, Prince Aemond, his arm around your waist so he can hold you tightly to him. Slowly you pull Aemond down to you and kiss his cheek, a "Mhhm", sounding from him.

"I think we should go out to the carriage," you hear him whisper. As if snapped out of a trance, you look at him in irritation. He chuckles softly, "So we can get back to the Great Hall?"

Now you have to laugh too and you nod. He leans forward and lightly kisses your lips, your hand finds his face and you caress him gently.

Aemond leads you along the guests to get to the carriage.

As you step out of the sept, the crowd seems to have grown even bigger. Everyone is cheering for you. You smile and give them a slight wave. Aemond leads you to the carriage and helps you get in.

As you sit in the carriage and it slowly starts to move, you watch all the faces pass by the window. All of a sudden you can't help but laugh. All the stress, the nervousness, everything falls away from you and you just laugh.

Aemond, sitting next to you, looks at you, "What's so funny?"

You shake your head, "Nothing.... my husband."

You lean over to him and kiss him passionately. The sound you love so much rings out in his chest, "mmmhm."

You break the kiss to catch your breath. Aemond looks at you, he smiles, "My Queen.... Is this a foretaste of tonight?" he whispers.

You blush slightly and bite your lower lip. He gently caresses your cheek, "I never want to miss these sweet red cheeks," he kisses you again. The carriage comes to a halt and Aemond interrupts the kiss.

Back in the Red Keep, he leads you into the Great Hall.

As you enter the hall, everything is already prepared. Long tables are lined up along the walls of the hall. Countless dishes and drinks are already ready on the tables. Small flower arrangements decorate the tables. Likewise, beautiful flower arrangements hang from the ceilings almost everywhere, reaching almost to the floor. Some flower arrangements also hang from the walls. Numerous banners of your house adorn the walls between the flower arrangements, so that it is impossible to miss who got married today. The countless candles that light up the room create a warm and contemplative atmosphere.

Aemond leads you through the hall to the head table. You see the decorated hall and are speechless. Aemond sees your look, "My mother really went to a lot of effort, didn't she?"

You nod, "It turned out really lovely. We have her to thank for that... I've never seen so many flowers in one place" He smiles at you and has to chuckle.

He leads you on to the centre of the table, today all pairs of eyes will be on you.

To your left will sit your family, your father right next to you, followed by your mother and brothers. Aemond sits to your right and his family consequently to his right.

After the guests have all arrived, the celebration begins.

Your grandfather is too weak to give a speech, your father has gratefully declined to give a speech. This is not a big deal for you, as it is unpleasant for you to be in the public eye anyway. Aemond feels very similarly.

After a while a large crowd forms in the middle of the room, looking up curiously at your table, and you guess what they are waiting for. You look at Aemond, "I don't think we can avoid this."

He nods at you with a smile, stands up and elegantly holds out his hand to you. You comply with his request and take his hand. He leads you to the dance floor, "Enjoy it. It's the last time we'll dance," he whispers into your ear with a grin.

You look at him, "I didn't know you liked watching your wife dance with other men so much."

He squeezes your hand a little tighter in response, you giggle.

When you arrive in the middle of the hall, Aemond turns you towards him. His hand is on your hip, holding you close to him. Your hand is on his shoulder. His other hand holds your hand up, gently sliding his fingers between yours. He looks deep into your eyes, and that is enough to make your breath catch for a moment.

You visibly swallow and Aemond has to suppress a grin, "Can I still make you this nervous?" he whispers.

"Shut up, Aemond," is all he gets. He presses the side of his face gently against yours, "Mmmhm this must be the beautiful married life everyone is always talking about."

You chuckle.

As the music begins to play, Aemond starts to lead you elegantly across the floor. His gaze doesn't even leave your face. You take in his scent and lose yourself in the moment. All the Lords and Ladies present are non-existent to you, all your attention is on Aemond and how he effortlessly floats you across the floor.

After some time, several Lords and Ladies begin to join you in the dance. Several couples twirl synchronously across the dance floor.

As the song ends, you notice that Aemond has elegantly led you to the edge of the dance floor. He smiles at you. You laugh and shake your head, "Your aversion to dancing is unique!"

He grins, "So is my love for you."

He kisses the tip of your nose.

Slowly he leads you into the crowd. You see your brothers in the crowd and you go over to them. Your brothers are trying hard to be nice to Aemond, you give them credit for that. You could almost think that you are having fun together.

Aemond's hand is constantly on your lower back, he never leaves your side. You enjoy finally being able to exchange your caresses in public, that you no longer have to hide. Aemond leans over slightly and whispers in your ear, "Tonight it's getting serious..." You look at him, ".... somehow I'm glad I don't have to be too gentle tonight"

He smirks, you blush slightly again and bite your lower lip. He kisses your cheek gently and murmurs, "My Love... My Life... My Queen..."

You lean into the kiss and smile.

When you see Rob coming towards you and smiling. Jace greets him joyfully and immediately presses a wine goblet into his hand.

He nods to you and congratulates you on your wedding. Aemond thanks Rob and kisses you gently on the cheek, "I'll be right back," you nod.

You turn your attention to Rob. You are happy to see him and hug him. "You're married," he says with exaggerated joy.

"Yes! Finally!" you reply with a laugh.

He smiles, "I guess I will be soon too".

You smile, "Oh I'm glad! Who's the lucky one?"

"A Bolton Lady. Lady Myranda Bolton"

"Mhmm Bolton... the North keeps to itself", you grin.

Rob chuckles, "Well, I wasn't wanted on Dragonstone"

You nudge him slightly, "You know that's not true"

He grins, "... Would I have had a real chance if Aemond had not existed?"

You smile, "Mhmm... perhaps."

His grin widens.

Aemond is intercepted by Aegon, "Brother, you are finally married"

Aemond nods at him, "At least that's what they say."

Aegon chuckles, "Now rejoice a little, toast with me!"

Aemond raises an eyebrow but relents. He takes the goblet of wine Aegon holds out to him. They drink together and talk. Aegon is almost bearable until he turns the subject to the wedding night, "Are you looking forward to tonight?"

Aegon grins, but Aemond just looks at him.

"You can't do that much new stuff tonight," he grins broadly.

"Brother, please stop," is all Aemond replies.

"But... maybe you do want to try something new... For I have heard that you do not want the spectators to confirm that the marriage has been consummated... Although of course I would have liked to watch...", Aegon takes a big sip.

Aemond exhales deeply, "Careful brother. I think we have talked enough for today then. I don't want to have my mood spoiled today."

Aemond leaves him and seeks your proximity again.

You are still standing with Rob and your brothers.

As always, you only notice Aemond again when he is standing next to you and his hand is on your lower back. A "My Queen" is breathed into your ear. You smile and reach out to him, kissing his lips gently.

"I could get used to this," you hear him murmur against your lips.

You chuckle.

"Shall we retire?" he looks into your eyes.

"Yes... Please...", you bite down on your lower lip and feel a tingle in your loin.

You say goodbye to your brothers and Rob. They grin at you and shout a few more funny and not so funny sayings after you. Aemond leads you out of the hall and you have to grin.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@leahjean  @afro-hispwriter  @jeyramarie  @powellssaturn @notabotiswear @hoshi-miharu-blog @random-human02 @m00n5t0n3 @sporadicshepherdzinebear @drewsgfduh @stargaryenx @dark-night-sky-99 @notabotiswear @ccosmic-illusion @darylandbethfanforever9 @grungegrrrl @spn-obession @carlottalhn @elle4404 @girl-with-an-orange-cat @genshinimpactislife @imjustboredso @tragicbucky @dollfaceyourfear @magnificantmermaid @mllemarianne @stargaryenx @mikariell95 @khaothick @aemonds-wifey @burningshewolf @munsonswrld @jackierose902109 @scaraxmouche @bucky-thorin-winchester @alexandra-001 @yentroucnagol @cicaspair418

[daddywright]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @samioli ! (late getting to it, happy holidays!)

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

44... so far :)) (not-so-secret: i actually have a second pseud for one-shots in very small, random fandoms, but i don't use it often.)

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

ah hah. 682,262. i didn't really publish much before the pandemic, but then suddenly all i ever wanted to do was write, and i found such a community online in different fandoms that i haven't really stopped since!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I've published (written is a different story, haha) fic for a few fandoms: namely ace attorney, different sherlock holmes properties, witcher, dragon age, good omens (before the show), and most recently, metal gear!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

a badge of honor [ace attorney]

plumeria (new beginnings) [enola holmes]

pressure (pushing down on me) [ace attorney]

your heart is cold (but we will warm you) [the hobbit - the first Real Fic i ever published, when i was a kid]

if i woke up (next to you) [ace attorney]

flattering but not surprising that ace attorney is near the top, as far as kudoses go; i joined this fandom in 2020 and it's just EXPLODED since then. it's so cool getting into an older game series and being able to connect with a thriving online community <3

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I absolutely do! I miss one here and there, on occasion, but i try to say thanks as often as i can. i often return to the comment sections of my more popular fics on rough days when i'm convinced i'm the worst writer in existence kasd;jfalskfjf

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

hm... while i tend to avoid endings that leave readers in pieces, i do enjoy some angst now and then. i wrote a one-shot about john watson reacting to holmes's death in OG sherlock holmes titled 'when good men go to war' that definitely deserved the 'major character death' tag, even if it's one of the most famous fake-out deaths in literature LMAO. i've also written canon compliant lanamia, which just hurts. and a miles edgeworth christmas fic, which is self-explanatory. i also wrote a fic for the animated film Klaus a while back that made me cry writing it, which i don't often do HAHA

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmm. 'if i woke up (next to you)' is the epitome of cheesy fix-it for narumitsu, but i think the end of 'pressure (pushing down on me)' was written at a time, for me, when i most desperately wanted to read about a happy ending-- the whole series is a fix-it, but pressure in particular dismantled phoenix's disbarment and brought back characters i missed/wanted more of in a way that was utterly self-indulgent, so for me, that's probably the happiest ending i've ever written. :)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, thankfully. but i've gotten enough of unsolicited crit type comments to piss me off eternally-- though i've gotten better at deleting the ones that hurt rather than engaging. (I stopped writing a witcher fic i really liked because i got a comment that a chapter was boring, and it totally shattered me :///)

9. Do you write smut?

Sure! I have been known to enjoy and write explicit fics. I have an academic interest in sex and education about it, and I think some of the best character study fics in the entire universe are explicit. i also think the saddest fics i've ever read have also included explicit scenes, too.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I have! I love a good, clever crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. (knocks on wood)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Most recently (published, that is), for pacific rim.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

OOF. well. i have several, of course. i'll always be attached to classic sherlock holmes x john watson. for fandoms i fell into recently, the bangers are narumitsu, taibani (tiger&bunny, aka narumitsu lite), and newly, otasune (metal gear solid) is THE Moment. the MOMENT, damn it, PLAY METAL GEAR SOLID. and then DM me @solid-snaked because i want to TALK TO YOU ABOUT IT.

some more well-known ships i haven't published fic for over the years but still love: leopika (hxh), kakairu (naruto... YEAH. NARUTO.), kaishin (dmck), and superbat (dc). also, i tend to really gravitate towards platonic/gen fic for different fandoms as well, almost if not more strongly than shipfic.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

ooooh. toss up between 'call me through thunder' (dragon age), because honestly while i loved writing it, i liked the original writing ideas that came from it more than the actual fic elements and 'when the way is dark' (witcher), because of reasons listed above.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i would like to say my dialogue?? i suppose? i really like writing dialogue and specifically, the framing around dialogue-- i like writing body language and trying to describe facial expressions and tone shifts so that people can hear and see the scene i'm trying to write.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

ahh, i'm definitely guilty of writing intimate/emotional scenes at the cost of pacing, and of favoring tone accomplished by dialogue rather than immersion via setting (i'm bad at like. window dressing and connective tissue between scenes, i think)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

beyond my skillset, I'm afraid

19. First fandom you wrote for?

supernatural. mmhmm. i was a high school sam girlie. the first fic i ever read, also, was supernatural. destiel at age 13. life-ruiner. but i recovered.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

aaaa. overall, i'd say 'pressure' is a fic i'm quite proud of but it's the series overall that makes it my favorite as a writing and a community experience, one that got me through a really tough time in life. however, as far as my writing skill goes, i'm pretty proud of a fic i wrote on a time crunch for Holmestice, a sherlock holmes exchange, called 'the emerald circle', because i got to reference queer history in a way i really enjoyed while writing it.

feel free to pass along this prompt to yourself, fellow writers <3

[demonicsaintess]

The Most Pointless Mob Psycho 100 S2ep3 Rant Ever

warning: there’s a bit of spoilers here

Hello hello it’s me again, Holy~

So I’ve been binging Mob Psycho 100, because everyone started suddenly talking about it, and being the nosey bitch that I am…. I needed to get to it. So, of course I did. I spent about an hour writing this. I wanted to get this right. Especially since I felt some if the parallels lined up with my personal life experiences. So, it’s time to cut the cake.

*note, stuff that can be casually skipped over, will be written in orange

Damn this episode was a doozy.

Season 2 Episode 3: One Danger After Another ~Degeneracy~

I love Reigan. I really, really fucking love Reigan. He cares for Mob and is honestly a good mentor to him, although he himself is shady. He is seen as the one who is emotionally shaping, and raising Mob. I have issues with the way Reigan has been going about it though; and I don’t feel like that’s an unfair accusation. Like, sure, during the first season, he goes from lightly manipulating Mob, to taking notice of the effect of the actions he is making Mob take. Now in the second season, it seems as though he has now acknowledged that whether he wanted to or not, Mob has come to take his words as law; and Reigan is now a father figure to him. Here is the growth path it seems to be going down in my opinion. Now, I’m just speculating, but this season’s going to be a huge awakening for Reigan, to the fact that he has probably been the unconscious catalyst for a considerable amount of emotional turmoil to Shigeo’s adolescence . It’s almost laughable how Dimple can see it before Reigan. Yes, it may be because of underhanded motives, but to be fair, isn’t Reigan also using underhanded tactics? On the other hand though, I also see Reigan starting to become more honest; even if he doesn’t stop scamming. (Come on, we all know Reigan is stupidly good at cons; we love a bad bitch okay? Girl boss??) But I don’t see this season going further than this aspect regarding Reigan.

Mob on the other hand, I believe he has learned something about himself, each time he has exploded.

So, a little backstory. Once upon a time there was a little girl back in the 90s, who was diagnosed in the early days of mental health awareness, with ADHD; and eventually ended up with a final diagnosis 20 years later, of bipolar and schizophrenia, Trust me when I say, it took YEARS for me stabilize, with medicine. It was hard, scary, and way too much to have to deal with through my adolescent years; and I had a good, caring support system. Okay, end of flashback (phew).

This season has eerily similar undertones to the struggles I had faced, okay, scratch that; it’s screaming in my face; the similarities are quaking, alright? The most ironic thing I can say about this is, it’s fucking puberty my guys! Right now Mob is what? 14/15? That’s a really sensitive age for kids. Not to mention, imagine having the unfortunate issue of WHEN you reach emotional overload, you black out, and destroy things. Many mental illnesses come with loss of memory to outbursts, and even black out rages or mental breaks. When I was a child, I’d get so emotionally stressed where I’d sort of “go to sleep,” and it’d end with me “coming to” with myself, or others hurt; sometimes both. Mob is essentially experiencing that.

Mob is dealing with his emotions getting bigger, as he’s starting to try to be PART of the world now. He’s still desperately trying to keep control in the way he was taught: bottle it up. He went from trying to deny himself it felt like. Almost as if he didn’t consider himself as… anything. Almost feeling unfortunately born, but not wishing to leave the loose support system he does have. Everything he has learned about being a good person, unfortunately came from Reigan. Let me make this clear, I’m not shitting on Reigan. I actually love him. THEREFORE, being honest, I have to also fault him. I will give him back his points though for the following reason:

I think, being at the age where I would have children, I feel Reigan’s rule of don’t fight humans, is the smartest option for Shigeo. Think about it; at the end of episode 3, what did he say? “If I were to ever use my power to eradicate a person, is there anyone who would be able to stop me?” That’s a pretty heavy thing to have to think of around 14 years old. Mob is struggling emotionally this season. I can already see him having a breakdown. I hate to just bluntly say this, but I just have a bad feeling on episode 3, that is just steadily growing more gnawing. I feel like Shigeo starting to voice his opinion, and slowly learning to make his own boundaries and realizing his own morals, is also becoming his “undoing” of sorts. Acknowledging and learning about your emotions, and how to healthily cope with them, is honestly probably the most irresponsible to think a 14 year old to manage perfectly. Therefore, requiring a 14 year old boy to deal with situations where he has to make permanent decisions by himself (think the family of ghosts and whether to exorcise them “for the customers.”), is asking for way too much. I for one, think its super fucked up that he has to even think for one second about something like this, over his FOURTEEN YEAR OLD LITTLE BOY FEELINGS. (Thanks a fucking lot REIGAN).

I have a lot of hope for Shigeo this season. Just like little reporter girl said, “Mob-kun needs to grow much, much more.”

Thanks for reading yet another review by

The Holy Villainess~

[aster-d-angelo]

Reth and Valia — Growing Pains

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Sweet Lord above, I’m gonna murder him. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll find a way.

It’s only been a week and already I’ve developed a twitch that kicks in with a vengeance whenever he’s brought up.

*sigh*

Where to begin…

Okay, so I realize being a handler is supposed to be a good thing. It shows I can handle my responsibilities and care for a living being without fail. It might even be enough for a promotion in the near future.

But good God, did it have to be him?

Yes, I know I shouldn’t complain. I was given a responsibility and I’m gonna fulfill it even if it kills me, which at the rate things are going is a likely possibility, but dammit, he can’t go a little easier on me?

Every day, it’s the same: get up, go take care of the giant bastard, nearly grind my teeth to dust, and then go about the rest of my day.

Until dinner, when I have to do it all over again. Rinse and repeat.

It actually wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t make it an excruciating point to get on my nerves every single minute of every single day. He just won’t let up; every other sentence out of his mouth is teasing, insulting, or downright flirting, and the whiplash from irritation to anger to embarrassment and back has long since given me a near-constant headache in his presence.

I just…I just don’t know how to act around him. His moods flip like a goddamn light switch, leaving me scrambling to keep up. Just when I’m feeling sympathetic towards him, he starts teasing me again, and the moment I’m ready to flip my lid, he sobers up or God forbid starts flirting.

That’s probably the worst part, feeling like I’m just another warm body for him to hit on. I realize he doesn’t get out much, but it feels so useless. Like, are you really getting something out of that?

I’m probably being too hard on him, but would it really kill him to stop trying to get a rise out of me for more than two seconds? It doesn’t help that he’s so good at it…freakin’ jerk…

With a heavy sigh, Valia pushed back from her desk, dropping her pen and stretching out stiff muscles. It was probably best that she stop that particular entry right there before it devolved into a spate of name-calling and increasingly violent threats.

A glance at the clock brought on another sigh and Valia reluctantly threw on a jacket, latching the gauntlet back on and grabbing her key before heading out.

Nights were cool lately, much cooler than the warm days they’d been having. The indigo sky above was speckled with stars, wisps of cloud barely visible in the dying light. Hands in her pockets, head craned back, Valia star-gazed until the barracks blocked her view.

Walking down the dark, silent corridor alone was never fun, Valia hurrying past cage after cage trying not to look inside any of them. She almost walked past Reth’s cage in the dark, turning on the little lantern light set in the wall by the door so she could see to use the key. Should really think about a flashlight…

The cage door squeaked open, Valia slipping inside and venturing a couple steps into the darkness beyond. The lantern light didn’t reach inside very well and her skin crawled at the impenetrable blackness filling the cage. “Anybody home?”

Not ten feet in front of her, a pair of teal eyes suddenly blinked open, shining eerily in the dim lamp light and scaring the shit out of her. Before she could beat a hasty retreat back to the door, however, a hand materialized behind her, dimly backlit and deepening the gloom around her. A toothy smile gleamed in the shadows, sending a shiver up her spine.

“Well, look who’s back,” came the low rumble she was slowly becoming accustomed to. “Wasn’t sure you’d be back after this morning.”

Ah, yes, this morning, when she’d basically stormed out the second his needs had been met, head ready to explode with frustration. “Yeah well, I have a responsibility to take care of you. I’m not going to abandon my duty just because you’re being a massive jerk,” Valia shot back, a thread of steel in her tone despite the lightest tremors running through her.

The hand withdrew with a chuckle, trailing light drag marks through the dust. “Ouch. Tell me how you really feel.” Sand and clothing shifted, Reth presumably sitting up in preparation. “What're we waiting for, then?”

Mouth thinning, Valia twisted the dial, smacking the button. The bright flash illuminated the cage for a second, an afterimage of a light dust cloud and a swiftly shrinking giant burned into her night vision. Then darkness returned, Reth soon sauntering into the dim light, hands stuck in his pockets. For once, he didn’t say anything, a fact for which Valia was secretly grateful as she led the way back down the hall.

Their first and only stop was the “cafeteria” — really just a fancy name for the patch-of-dirt courtyard across from the wash stations. Reth plunked down in his usual spot against the wall while Valia went to retrieve his meal. The tray was twice the size of normal ones, half-full of stale bread, a handful of slightly overripe fruits and veggies, a cut of jerky, and a cup of water. The cadet couldn’t help the wince as she hauled the tray back to the giant — at least it wasn’t gruel.

Reth accepted the tray like he always did, with a nod and a smirk. Valia just ignored him like she always did, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms as she scanned the courtyard. They were a little later than usual today, so only a couple other assets were around, finishing up their own meals. Their handlers looked bored as hell, hardly acknowledging their asset’s existence until they were done, then leading them back to their cages with hardly a word or even a glance.

Unexpectedly, a sliver of guilt slithered through her chest, watching fellow officers handle their assets so callously and sensing an uncomfortable similarity to her own actions. She’d never thought of herself as a cruel person, and from what Reth had said when they first met, she was different, apparently more kind than others had been. She had taken a strange sense of pride in that, having won the vague approval of a species that severely disliked her own.

But given how quiet and relatively compliant Reth had been lately, she wasn’t sure how well she’d kept that up. Indifferent could be just as bad as cruel, after all.

A poking sensation pulled her from her thoughts, Valia skittering to the side instinctively as she noticed Reth in her immediate peripheral, a hunk of bread in his hand. “Wha…did you just poke me with your food?” she sputtered, brushing at her uniform and scowling at the bread crumbs.

“Well, nothing else was getting your attention, sweetheart,” Reth answered lazily, tearing off another chunk of bread and holding out the tray with a smirk.

With a huff, Valia snatched it up, feeling heat climb her neck a bit as she took the tray back.

They made their way back to the cage without issue, Reth ducking inside and heading for the corner while Valia trailed some feet behind. Another twist, another click, and Reth was full-size once more, invisible in the dark as he presumably settled against the wall.

And that was that. Okay, time to head back to the dorms and hit the books for tomorrow’s quiz—

A yelp escaped her as a hand abruptly descended, cutting off her path to the door. Valia whipped around, staring up at disembodied teal eyes, mind racing for an explanation.

“Where’s the fire, sweetheart?”

She struggled with the spike of irritation. “I’m going back to my dorm. I have a quiz tomorrow.”

“And you hafta be studying every second until then, right?” She could hear that goddamn smirk as he tilted his head. “Do you ever relax?”

Breathe, Val, just breathe. “I do, actually. Thanks for the concern, if that’s what that was,” Valia snipped, pivoting on her heel and attempting to sidestep the long fingers in her way.

They shifted with her, making her teeth grit as she glared over her shoulder.

“I don’t think ya do.” His fingertip gently tapped her shoulder, making her jerk back. “How ‘bout you hang out with me for a bit so I can be sure?”

He couldn’t really want her to stick around; hell must’ve frozen over.

“What’s the catch?” was out of her mouth before she realized it.

Another chuckle, soft and amused. “You wound me, sweetheart.” His arm came down just like before, letting him lean down into the dim light and putting her level with his smirk. His warm breath just vaguely brushing past her, Valia resisted the overwhelming urge to step back, her back mere inches from his fingers, breath held as their gazes locked.

“…maybe I just appreciate your company,” he said quietly, making her freeze in place.

Hold up. Was this flirting? It seemed like flirting, but…

Her mouth opened once or twice, but her usual sarcastic responses didn’t seem appropriate somehow and she didn’t really have any others handy…

The silence stretched almost to the point of uncomfortable, Valia struggling to process as her face slowly flushed. Thankfully, it was enough for Reth to pull back with a snort, hand moving just off to the side, essentially freeing her. “Well, that’s a no. Don’t study too hard, kay?”

For the second time that night, guilt squeezed her chest as that neutral expression of his slid back into place. It didn’t take a genius to know why he wanted the company and used her wellbeing as an excuse, but she still couldn’t wrap her head around why he’d choose her. They hadn’t had a decent interaction the entire week she’d known him, barring that one moment when they’d first met, and even now, she couldn’t talk to him without wanting to punch him in his big smug face. Sure, she was around him the most, but he had to have somebody else to hang out with!

…right?

No, now she was just being stupid. He spent at least half of each day in the cage, interaction between assets outside the cage was frowned upon, and none of the officers wanted anything to do with the assets — there was literally no one else.

She took a deep breath and let it out.

Alright — time to start being the decent human being he apparently thought she was.

Before she could change her mind, Valia moved a little closer, hesitantly taking a seat on the sandy floor and catching his attention. “I guess I can stay for a few more minutes,” she mumbled, a finger swirling through the sand as she tried to avoid eye contact. “But you try to pick me up again and we’re gonna have a problem.”

A moment’s pause and she felt more than saw him lie down on the dusty floor, getting settled a comfortable distance away to her mild surprise. Eyes still on the floor, she missed the little smile that appeared.

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, and Valia’s heart skipped a beat as the words practically vibrated through her.

This was gonna take some getting used to.

-.-

Shutting her dorm door behind her, Valia stifled a yawn as she made her way to her desk, rummaging through her textbooks. Finding the one she needed, she plunked down and went to crack it open, only to catch sight of her abandoned journal entry just off to the side. A thoughtful pause had her toying with her pen, eyes tracing the neat, tight words.

It’d only been a few minutes and she’d pretty much hightailed it out of there, but…

Her pen scrawled another few words at the bottom of the page.

Okay, he’s not so bad.

Satisfied, Valia turned back to her book, settling in for a night of study.

The next morning, she went about her duties as usual, stopping in for breakfast before heading to the cage.

“Morning,” she murmured absently, mind occupied by the day’s schedule as she unlocked the cage door and stepped inside. It was a fairly light day and her quiz wasn’t until after lunch, so she could squeak in a review if she needed to…

The lack of response finally broke into her thoughts and Valia glanced up to see Reth propped up on an elbow, watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. He was unusually quiet, making her squint suspiciously. “What?”

A smug little grin appeared, Reth tilting his head. “Nothing.”

What was his deal this morning? Valia just rolled her eyes, spinning the dial. “Whatever.”

[spacedhead]

homestuck reread #6: a5a2 part 2

this shit is so trippy and weird and honestly scary im actually scared. the context for the first image is that jade is entering a dream bubble for the first time since her dream self is dead. the second image is daves dreamself looking into the void and seeing like the horrorterrors. and then jade sees them too somehow in the dream bubble.... its honestly horrifying and has me quite perturbed.

it seems like she is also perturbed. and PISSED AWF

IM INCLINED TO AGREE WITH HIM. SUDDENLY HE SEEMS SENSIBLE AND NORMAL I WOULD SAY. I WOULD CALL HIM THESE THINGS.

this is so funny i thought this was just a jade karkat and future karkat interaction but then fucking dave just Appears out of nowhere . so cool

LOOK AT MY SON (do not look at his computer. we wont talk about it) HE IS SO REAL

okay so theres been tons happening but im pretty sure i never got an explanation as to why daves bro is just randomly on LOWAS (land of wind and shade) . and why jack knew he was there. like what are these freaks doing on my sons planet. should i keep calling him my son. gay daughter or thot son

hate these guys but love sword fights so net neutral (secretly cool)

DAVE SPRITE!!! weird that he also knew to come to lowas. i feel like i may be missing some critical information

they are so cute

this is how i talk to my friends on the internet. except maybe with meows

oh god i think this is where everything goes to shit . with umbral ultimatum as the soundtrack. really good song! anyway. gonna watch this now

this is so bad oh man oh god

well. at least theres this. L mans

stop talking to gray text stupid dumb. i think the fact that i find this funny proves that my brain needs to be studied

wow check out this awesome panel. vriska IS the fire. the irons.... are john? irons in the fire. its the thing she always says. i uh i think i lost the metaphor

YESSS HE DID IT HE DID THE [redacted]

what a fucking crazy amount of wind my son has just summoned. that is so much wind. its covering the whole planet!!!!

i love how matter of fact he is about it. like oh this giant swirling vortex covering my entire planet? oh i did that? oh thats cool.

i never read into this before but damn its crazy that feferi is dead here cause the last time we saw her she was literally fine. what could have happened..... ( i already know)

OH HELLYES . HELL FUCKING YES I LOVE THIS SONG

me to your fucking house

dawwwwww

no need to serve this hard??? but pop off i guess....

not you too....

er okay tavros just tried to make jade his girl friend without even really knowing her and he was being really annoying and kind of an asshole while doing it and then she let him down nicely but then vriska was like bro that was the worst thing i have ever seen and was very VERY mean to him about it (maybe even more than he deserved) and then admitted to being the reason why jack noir is a super powerful evil creature now AND BONUS SHE GOT A VERSION OF DAVE KILLED >:((((

i dont wanna dwell on that though because one of my favorite parts of the comic is coming up right now :3

fun fact: "heir transparent" "doctor" and "planet healer" are all songs of john egbert :D

ANYWAY ITS TIME FOR ANOTHER GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!YESSSSSSSSILOVE GAMING !!!! SBURB

8888)

he did it :)

i think this is a good place to end this one . general thoughts right now? huge. pog. things are happening. plans are being formed. i kind of glossed over them but rose and dave are planning to explode the green sun. john just went god tier. and jade is finally in. on the trolls side of things we finally understand why their session went wrong at the last moment, but it seems like even more has gone wrong since weve seen them last? feferi is dead. tavros wants to kill vriska. what could possibly happen next. tune in next time . i dont know when it will be. probably tomorrow. what with all the waiting i'll be doing.

[discotreque]

Red Yarn & Thumbtacks Into Darkness

We all know I can’t predict plot points to save my life, and my track record w/r/t this season of Picard is quite bad so far… but neither can I stop myself from formulating wild theories about where this whole hot mess is going. And maybe it’s just the meandering narrative, but the show keeps getting opportunities to disprove these, and it just hasn’t, which means now I have to inflict them on y’all so my head doesn’t explode. Buckle up!

Theory #1: Remmick’s Revenge

(Speaking of exploding heads…)

The thing in Picard 1.0’s brain that isn’t Irumodic Syndrome after all? The thing that’s also in his DNA, and has therefore has been passed on to Jack? The thing that isn’t part of Picard 2.0’s positronic body? The thing that seems to be beckoning Jack, with creepy red organic imagery, to join/connect with some kind of hive mind?

It’s one of the parasites from “Conspiracy” in TNG S1. It got into Picard during that episode, but after the other parasites were exposed and killed, it went dormant and waited for a better opportunity to strike, rewriting his DNA to make sure he’d be an ideal host when the time came.

But that time never came, and the DNA modifications and/or the presence of the parasite slowly damaged Picard’s brain (in a way similar to Irumodic Syndrome, I guess), which eventually killed his original body. And when Section 31 retrieved that body to take to Daystrom Station, the parasite was still inside: maybe dead too, maybe still dormant, but nothing that a nice fresh sample of modified, ideal-host DNA from Jack couldn’t fix.

Whoever’s giving Vadic her orders when she talks to the hand isn’t (just) trying to reignite the Dominion War—they’re trying to resurrect the parasite conspiracy.

Theory #2: Lateral Advancement

I loved that Lower Decks S3 presented not being in Starfleet as an equally valid and (at least potentially) equally rewarding path for Mariner. Obviously she chose Starfleet, but they made the alternative appealing enough that the obvious choice still had some weight to it. And every week I’m getting more and more sure that PIC S3 is mounting a similar challenge to the idea that every Starfleet officer, if they survive long enough, will—and wants to—become captain of their own ship.

Because listen, I love Shaw as much as the next damaged bitch who confuses “asshole” for “charm,” but babygirl does not seem like he’s thriving in the big chair. The only times we ever see him remotely comfortable—and neither lashing out nor squirming with the effort not to—is when he’s forced back into his old grease-monkey role.

If Captain Shaw survives the season—and at this point, it feels like he probably will—I think (and also hope) that he’s going to transfer out of Command entirely and become the first four-pip Chief Engineer since Scotty in the TOS movies. He and everyone around him would be so much happier.

Theory #3: Feint Praise

They had to know this season would be released weekly while they were writing it—like the seven preceding seasons of live-action New Trek were—so the fact that it’s obviously been written and edited for a binge-watch can only be deliberate sadism. Those fuckers.

However. Earlier this season, when I first watched 3.03, I thought it sucked pretty bad as a standalone episode: weird pacing, incomplete arcs, multiple anti-climactic lacks of payoff, etc. Then I rewatched it back-to-back with Episode 3.04 a week later, and realized 3.03 is actually a pretty decent first half of a two-part episode, and the absolutely outstanding second half corrected or cancelled out nearly every complaint I’d had anyway.

Well, here we are again, and I have a lot of complaints about 3.07. The pacing is weird, the character arcs feel incomplete at best, the amount of setup vs. payoff is way out of whack, and it seems to break some pretty fundamental rules of modern cinematic storytelling for no better reason than to suddenly start rushing this slow-ass plot along.

And all of those complaints are well within the ability of next week’s episode to retroactively address, if it’s indeed the second half to this week’s first. And especially so soon after my last volte-face, I’m more than comfortable giving them an extra week to dig themselves out of this one—they might actually pull it off.

[beautifulduckweed]

Pride Month Story #8: Giving Yourself Hell

This one is long, and ended up being split into three parts on Twitter. See the original tweets here:

Part 1 https://twitter.com/gleebags/status/1535209921129553921

Part 2: https://twitter.com/gleebags/status/1535404621799206913

Part 3: https://twitter.com/gleebags/status/1535917146135351297

* * *

The first time a demon appeared in her train car, Tai had been so busy fighting with her mom via text that she didn't notice until the screaming got loud.

Like, really, really loud.

She'd looked up from the phone to see a pillar of dark flame.

People stampeded past her, but it was hard to pay attention to anything besides the fiery column that whirled its way towards her, emanating a burbling scream that turned her bowels to water. Tai sat paralyzed, phone clutched in sweaty hands, thumb hovering over the SEND button.

Then the train reached the 6th Ave station. The doors opened and the column of fire rushed out into the heart of downtown where, according to the news, it proceeded down Morrison, melting roads, shattering windows within a hundred feet of it, and exploding all the cars it passed. The mayhem lasted for three hours before it vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

The next demon appeared during Tai's lunch break a week later. Tai was picking at lackluster tom yum in a park near work when her boss called. Heroku was down.

A giant ball of eyes popped into existence.

The wad of eyeballs, taller than a house, each individual eyeball three feet across, began to roll around the park, leaving a trail of vitreous fluid in its wake. Unlike the pillar of flame, it didn't set anything on fire or break the windows, many of which were still boarded up.

It did, however, cause people to descend into nightmarish hallucinations if they looked at it for longer than a second. The hallucinations were brief, lasting no more than 15 minutes, but it was still enough to cause hundreds of accidents and untold amounts of psychic damage.

The eyeballs, like the fire, disappeared after several hours, for no discernible reason, through no discernible method.

For months, more of these entities popped into existence at random times, in random places. Nobody knew what they were; there was no perceptible pattern.

There was, among others, a giant flying eel, a blob of corrosive jelly, and a swarm of sentient wasps—that one was actually the worst.

And then one day, six months after the pillar of fire first showed up in a train car, Tai came home to a gorgeous woman lounging on her couch.

Dressed in a severely tailored suit, she looked like a 50s star in drag—like if Veronica Lake were Chinese and decided she wanted to upstage Cary Grant just to fuck with him. Her black hair cascaded over her face in glossy satin waves. She held a gold-topped cane in one hand.

"Hey, Tai," she said casually, her voice smoke and spices. "It took me forever to find you." She paused. "Actually, it took zero time to find you, but it did take me forever figure out who was ripping all those holes in reality and yanking my demons out of Hell."

Tai felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice over her. "I…what?"

"You heard me," said the woman, who, upon closer examination, was probably not, strictly speaking, a woman. She stood up, walked over, and placed an elegant fingertip on Tai's chin. "Darling, please stop."

The not-woman's fingertip felt almost unpleasantly hot, as if a live coal smoldered underneath. Tai blinked and flinched.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Stop what?"

The not-woman cocked her head; her black eyes narrowed. Tai got the distinct feeling that she had been pinned and dissected, and the not-woman was now rummaging around her insides. It was not a comfortable sensation.

"Could you possibly not know you're a summoner?" she asked.

"All signs point to no? What's a summoner? Why do you think I'm one? You really have the wrong person, lady."

"Lord," said the not-woman absently, fingers tapping the cane. "Technically, my lord. Or Your Lordship, if you wish."

Tai clutched her head. "I'm sorry—who are you?"

The not-woman leaned back and put a hand to her chest. "Oh, how rude of me; beg pardon. I'm Baal, one of the four Lords of Hell. I don't care about my pronouns, but you may address me as Lord Baal, my lord, Your Lordship, or, if you're feeling especially subby, Your Dread Grace."

Tai gulped. "Hi, I'm Tai?" she said. "But you knew that already."

It all felt like a dream. Tai figured she'd just roll with it until Lord Baal left, she woke up, or one of those manifestations—demons?—appeared and ate her. She wasn't picky about which.

And then it got worse.

Because Logan came home.

He came through the door, said "Hey babe," saw Lord Baal, and immediately stopped. He turned to Tai, eyes hard, and said, "So, who's this?"

Tai felt her entire body clench. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lord Baal make a flicking gesture.

"This is, uh," said Tai.

"I'm Lord Baal." Lord Baal stepped up to Logan, smiling at him. "And you have an important errand to run. Out by outer suburbs. Better be quick or you'll miss the train; the next one's not for another hour." She touched a fingertip to his forehead.

"Right, shit," said Logan, his eyes going blank and dazed. "I um. Have to go. Train to catch!" He turned around, lurched like a badly-puppeted marionette, and scampered out the door.

"He has a car," Tai said stupidly.

"He prefers the train tonight," said Lord Baal serenely. "So," she continued, "what's going on with you two?"

Tai jammed her hands in her pockets and glared at the ceiling. "Logan has…a jealousy thing."

Lord Baal raised her eyebrows. "A jealousy thing."

"He, uh. Doesn't think you can just be friends with people you're attracted to."

Lord Baal's eyebrows climbed higher.

"Actually, he doesn't think it's possible that you can just be friends with anyone who belongs to a gender you're attracted to."

"Ah, the Harry Burns fallacy, yes," said Lord Baal. "We use it to great effect in Hell, actually."

"So yeah, Logan is always a pain when I'm making a new friend or whatever because I'm bi and he has trust issues, but he does settle down eventually, can we please stop talking about my boyfriend?"

Lord Baal smiled. It was not a reassuring smile. "Sure," she said. "Except."

"Except?" said Tai.

"Except I mended three interdimensional tears during the, what, two minutes of interaction you had with him?"

Tai digested this in silence for a minute. "Are you telling me," she said slowly, "that I almost summoned three demons when Logan came home?"

"Oh, no almost about it," said Lord Baal. "You did it. Ripped a big old hole, started sucking a demon through. Good thing I was here, or your living room would be a lot more crowded. Or possibly not exist anymore."

The urge to bash her head against the wall overcame Tai.

"Interesting," said Lord Baal. "I can feel another weak spot forming right now, as I speak."

Tai bit back a scream of frustration.

"Aand there it goes." Lord Baal made a gesture. Nothing happened—which, Tai supposed, was the point. Her living room lived to see another day.

It was all too much. Tai sat on the floor and put her face between her knees. A warm presence settled down next to her, the heat soothing despite being, well, a bit blast furnace-y. The silence was not exactly comfortable, but it also wasn't as excruciating as it could've been.

"I think I've figured it out," said Lord Baal. "When in extremis, your latent summoner powers activate, creating an interdimensional rift and pulling a demon through."

"I do what now?"

"You're so stressed out you're ripping holes in reality and summoning demons, darling."

Tai raised her head. "That makes no sense. I've always been this stressed, and I didn't use to summon demons."

"Some summoners bloom late," said Lord Baal, shrugging. "Regardless of the why, the fact is, it's happening now, and my poor demons are being ripped from their homes."

Tai scrubbed a hand over her face. "Ripped? From their homes?"

Lord Baal leveled a gently scathing look. "What, you think demons enjoy being topside? They hate it here. Every time you summon—kidnap, really—one of them, I can hear their screams of distress all the way down."

"Oh my God," moaned Tai.

"Until you can control your powers, it's my duty to keep an eye on you and seal off those rips before they fully open."

"No. Oh my fuck. What is happening to my life?"

"It's not so much going to Hell," said Lord Baal, "as you're bringing Hell to you."

And this was how Tai ended up breaking up with her boyfriend of three years ("I knew it!" Logan had screamed at her until Lord Baal gave him another errand to run, this time in the next state over) and moved in with a Lord of Hell, the literal hottest demon she had ever known.

###

Living with a Lord of Hell wasn't, well, as hellish at Tai thought it'd be.

Sure, the house sometimes reeked of sulfur. And yes, there was the occasional spate of eldritch chanting.

But Lord Baal didn't steal her food (not needing to eat helped), make passive-aggressive remarks about her bodice ripper collection, or make a mess. In fact, the house stayed unnervingly clean. Tai wasn't sure if it was magic, or if dust was too terrified to settle around Baal.

She accompanied Tai everywhere, including work. Nobody else seemed to notice her, their eyes sliding right off her presence. She stayed quiet, mostly.

After a week, Lord Baal said, "Your daily stand-ups are an inspiration to me," which wasn't exactly reassuring.

After two more weeks, Lord Baal sat Tai down and told her calmly, clinically, that after extensive study, she had found the definitive sources of Tai's stress, and they were:

1. Work 2. Tai's mother 3. Logan, thankfully gone now 4. Tai's utter lack of self-worth

"Not much I can do about your self-worth," said Lord Baal, "but the others I can help with. How would you like me to kill your boss, your CTO, and your CEO? I'm proficient in all forms of murder and torture, so please don't feel constrained by the limits of corporeality."

When Tai realized Lord Baal was serious, a wave of panic the likes of which she had never known overcame her. Lord Baal made several flicking gestures.

"Hmm," said Lord Baal, "that was a new record. Six rifts in ten seconds! Fine, no murder or maiming. How about banishing them?"

"Banish where?"

"Hell has several pocket dimensions going unused. I could disappear them there."

"No!"

Lord Baal sighed, narrowing her eyes. "Ugh, you're difficult. Well then, what about your mother?"

"No!"

"You're absolutely sure? Your life would be so much better."

"No," said Tai firmly. "No murder, maiming, or disappearing people into pocket dimensions."

"Well then," said Lord Baal, "you leave me no choice.

And that was how Tai finally started going to therapy after years of thinking "Wow, I probably should go to therapy." It took a Lord of Hell literally standing next to her while she looked up therapists and booked an appointment, but whatever.

One night, after a night out with old friends, Lord Baal sat down at her bedside, looked her in the eye, and said "You need to stop talking to Jan."

Tai frowned. "Wait, what? Why?"

Lord Baal raised an eyebrow. "They're not at making-you-want-to-rip-holes-in-reality yet, but they're very, very close. Haven't you noticed how they make you feel bad about yourself, all the time, because it makes them feel better about themself?"

"I can't ditch Jan," said Tai. "We've been friends since middle school!"

"That's a terrible reason to keep friends around."

Tai frowned. "You just don't understand human friendship."

Lord Baal shrugged. "All I know is, you have so many friends who don't make you want to cry."

Two weeks later, after a conversation with Jan made Tai want to walk into the ocean, she turned to Lord Baal, sitting quietly next to her. Lord Baal merely arched an eyebrow and made a flicking gesture with her fingers.

Tai stopped talking to Jan.

Time passed. One day, as Tai struggled with the fourth new ticketing workflow in as many months, Lord Baal said, voice casual, "Have you considered looking for a new job?"

Tai turned to Lord Baal. "How many rips in reality are you prepared to close at a time?"

"I've had to close two in the past half hour alone," said Lord Baal.

"That'll be nothing compared to how many you'll need to do when I start updating my resume and my LinkedIn—and that's before we get to the actual business of jobhunting and interviews."

"Humor me anyway," said Lord Baal. "You won't allow me to disappear your boss into a pocket dimension and he makes my teeth ache."

For the next few months, Lord Baal helped Tai look for a new job. After the first week, Tai asked her how many rips she'd had to close.

"I don't know," said Lord Baal. "I lost count after I hit four figures."

Tai's eyes bugged out.

"I jest," said Lord Baal. "Allow this old demon a moment of comic hyperbole."

But that was when Tai realized: she genuinely had no idea how many rips she created.

"Hey," said Tai. "You know, next time I start opening a rip in reality, could you…poke me, maybe? So I can I get a sense of how many I'm creating, and also what it feels like when I start doing it. And who knows, maybe it'll pull me out of my spirals."

"Sure," said Lord Baal.

The first poke happened at the worst conceivable time: during a fight at a family dinner. Tai's mother had misgendered her yet again.

"It's so hard for me to remember, OK?" her mother said.

"Mom, it's been six years."

"What's six compared to twenty-eight?"

A jab to her side.

Tai turned to Lord Baal, wild-eyed. Lord Baal, face stony, flicked her fingers twice in rapid succession.

Tai took a deep breath.

"Tai, can't you even look at your mother anymore while we're talking? And you think I'm disrespecting you!"

Lord Baal flicked her fingers again.

Months passed. Tai eventually learned to isolate the sensation of a hole being torn into hell; it felt like a queasy tug at the base of her gut that she had always associated with panic. Turned out it was more than an incipient panic attack, after all.

She found a new job.

After a catastrophic fight with her mother, she made the decision to go no-contact; to her surprise, her brother joined her.

It sucked, at first. It was the most painful decision she had made in her life. But having her brother helped. Her mother had the unique gift of making Tai feel like she was the irrational one. An undutiful child. Ungrateful. It took her time to realize how hard it had been to think clearly when somebody constantly insisted she was wrong—not merely about the facts, but at her core.

The separation grew easier with time, especially after she blocked every family member who pressured her into resuming contact. Lord Baal observed her process with interest.

"So what you're doing," said Lord Baal, "is sending these people into digital pocket dimensions."

Tai snorted. "I guess."

Lord Baal made a dainty snort of disdain. "My dear, we have so many pocket dimensions in Hell lying around unused. It'd be so much more efficient to banish them there than this arcane, exceedingly tedious procedure."

"No. Banishing," said Tai.

Time passed. Months. Years. One day, while Tai hunted around for a missing a jigsaw puzzle piece, Lord Baal said, idly, "You know, I haven't had to close a rip in ages."

Tai popped up from under the dining room table, bashing her head on the corner.

"Ow!" she said. Then: "Oh."

"My dear," said Lord Baal, "I don't think my presence is necessary any longer."

"Oh," said Tai, again.

"Pray do not cry."

"You know that doesn't work, right?"

Lord Baal sighed. "Fine, tarnish me with your disgusting bodily fluids, if you must."

Tai cried. Lord Baal held her. It felt like being hugged by a very small, very soft furnace that smelled of smoke and spices, with a faint undercurrent of sulfur.

"So I guess you're going?"

"It's past time I went back," said Lord Baal. "I stayed a little longer to make sure you were good."

"How much longer?" asked Tai.

Lord Baal hummed. "Oh, reckoning in human time is pointless and strange."

"Stop dodging the goddamn question."

Lord Baal snorted. "Fine. Two years."

Tai squeaked. "You stayed two years longer than you had to?"

Lord Baal shrugged. "I had to make sure you weren't going to go down a bad spiral and drag my poor demons back to the surface. And I really needed to see how they were going to wrap up the final season of Succession."

Tai laughed, then cried some more.

Lord Baal said, her voice uncharacteristically tender, "Look, I promise to visit, every year."

Tai sniffled. "You better."

"If I failed to come, I imagine you know exactly how to get me here."

Tai gave a crack of laughter. "That's right."

Lord Baal kissed Tai on her forehead.

"You'll do just fine," said Lord Baal. "Better than fine. And I'll see you in a year."

"See you in a year." Tai stepped back, and watched as Lord Baal stepped forward, and between one step and the next, disappeared from sight.

###

Decades passed. Tai fell in love; married; was widowed. Her brother had children; the children grew, and had children of their own. The world grew better in some ways; worse in others. She grew frail. She grew wrinkled. She grew tired.

Every year, Lord Baal visited.

The day after Tai's 93rd birthday, while she lay in bed and tried to summon the energy to shuffle out of it, she smelled smoke and sulfur and spices. Lord Baal appeared by Tai's bedside.

"Hey you," said Tai. Then: "Wait, has it been a year?"

"No," said Lord Baal. "But this visit is special. It's the last time I'll be coming here."

Tai stared. "Why?"

Lord Baal gave her a chiding look. "You know why."

Tai sighed. "Yeah. Shit, I knew I should've murdered someone while I had the energy and strength."

Lord Baal cleared her throat delicately. "About that," she said.

"What? The murder I finally regret not committing?"

"Sort of. If you squint. So normally, a person your caliber does not belong in Hell. But." She cleared her throat again. "I, um. Received special dispensation. Not as one of our regular, ah, residents," Lord Baal clarified hastily. "But as one of my companions. That is, if you're interested."

"Friend," said Tai, "I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend eternity with than you."

"Ha, you say that now," said Lord Baal.

A soft silence fell. Tai looked at Lord Baal. Everything was strangely dim. Murky. She blinked. The only clear thing in the room was the Lord of Hell standing next to her.

"You ready?" asked Lord Baal.

Tai sighed. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I am."

Lord Baal held out a hand.

She stepped up. She felt so light! And strong. She hadn't felt this good in a very, very long time.

Lord Baal took her hand. It still felt hot, like there was a burning coal trapped just underneath. But the heat didn't hurt. It felt comforting.

"Mind the gap," Lord Baal said.

They stepped forward, Tai's hand in Lord Baal's, and between one step and the next, Tai tumbled into a space just beyond sight that flared and glowed with uncanny light, her heart light and ready for the next adventure, with the best fiend she had ever known by her side.

- Fin -

( Thanks to @living-hel YET AGAIN for being the best rubber duck ever, and also helping me refine some of the lines ❤️😚 )

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 324: Is There a Force Field Around Him??

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal was all “please tell Midoriya that I spent a concerningly small amount of money upgrading U.A. into a wacky physics-defying funtime grid so as to make the final battle much more confusing for everyone.” Present Day!Mic (or Present!Mic, if you will) and Jeanist were all “if only somebody could deescalate this dangerously unhinged mob, we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas.” Ochako was all “LISTEN UP PEOPLE.” The mob was all, “god??” Ochako was all, “NO, IT’S ME, OCHAKO. I’M REALLY HIGH UP ON THIS BUILDING AND THE VISIBILITY IS LOW DUE TO THE RAIN, SO I CAN SEE HOW YOU MIGHT MAKE THAT MISTAKE. ANYWAYS, DEKU WAS OUT THERE RISKING HIS LIFE FOR YOU CLOWNS EVEN THOUGH HE’S JUST A KID, SO I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD ALL REMEMBER HOW TO BE DECENT HUMAN BEINGS, THANKS.” Let’s see if her Big Scolding Energy has any impact.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so I have this speech planned out, and it’s really good, but it also only really needs about 6 to 8 pages, but I’m gonna see if I can stretch it out to 17 pages so I can kill time before we get to the next volume cliffhanger two weeks from now.” Anyway but it really is a good speech though. There are feels, and tears, and more talk about how Deku is so in need of a shower that just looking at him requires a tetanus booster, and more feels, and more tears, and bonus ship drama, and an iconic callback to the very first chapter which reframes the entire series in a new context in a totally epic and moving way, and it’s all very good. Except that Horikoshi is determined to never let anyone actually give this kid a hug. Who hurt you, dude.

omg we are opening on a callback to chapter 212, a.k.a. the chapter with by far the cutest flashback that doesn’t involve any baby Todorokis

baby Ochako is lethally cute. she could literally murder someone with her cuteness. I just want to scoop her up and play airplane with her until she accidentally activates her quirk while we’re spinning around and we both helicopter up into the air never to be seen again

“a child’s insistence” huh well that’s all well and good, but I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re going to drag out the whole “sternly lecture the obnoxious citizens” plot for another whole chapter. no offense but I think we’re good

so page 2 is just continuing the whole happy/worried faces monologue, which of course is very important to Ochako’s character as it provides the context for why “who protects the heroes” ended up becoming her thing. and this is making me think we actually are in for a whole second chapter of this sob. when will my boy finally get to rest

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

HORIKOSHI: [reaches for a box of tissues while tearfully penning an homage to his beloved Spider-Man 2, specifically the train scene where the crowd sees Peter without his mask and they suddenly realize just how young he is]

HORIKOSHI’S HOMAGE SCENE: “COME TO THINK OF IT, I GUESS IT WAS KIND OF MEAN FOR US TO PICK ON THIS TEN YEAR OLD KID WHO WEIGHS 75 POUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE LOST A FIGHT WITH SATAN’S MOLDY OLD BASEMENT”

lol at this one guy who can feel the mood of the crowd shifting and is all “WAIT, NO, I WANTED TO KEEP BEING AN ASSHOLE DAMMIT”

as many pointed out last week, this man is wearing an All Might shirt. that’s some fantastic irony there

-- SDKFJWIGKS

“LITTLE GIRL, I HOPE YOU’RE NOT SUGGESTING THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE WALKING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A SOVIET-ERA BUS STOP.” heh. last week I said I was ashamed of BnHA being my favorite manga. that was a lie, actually

(ETA: in the original Japanese Ochako’s next two lines are basically “the only ones covered in mud will be us heroes!” followed by “please give us some time to get rid of the mud”, with that second line basically being the single funniest thing I’ve ever read rdslkjl. Ochako thank you so much for supporting my running gags. “YEAH WE KNOW HE’S DIRTY. WE ARE GONNA TRY AND CLEAN HIM UP, BUT IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, I’M JUST SAYING. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASBESTOS COSPLAY.”)

doesn’t the megaphone kind of look ever so slightly like an axe that she’s wielding maniacally here

easy there Lizzie Borden

also that’s a really bold claim to make there. and not one she necessarily should have to make, either. but as we all know, there’s nothing that shounen manga likes more than having its heroes bravely hoist heavy burdens of responsibility like good self-sacrificing citizens

p.s. lowkey loving how Kacchan is positioned here standing slightly behind Deku. not presuming to stand in front of him all overprotectively (because he would hate if anyone ever did that to him), and kind of being unobtrusive and letting others take center stage -- but still being close enough to Deku that he can catch him if he stumbles or passes out again

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

KACCHAN: [glancing up from his phone a few minutes later] “someone just sent me the stupidest meme about milk crates -- oh. uh. you good...?”

really, son. “the burdens you can’t carry, we’ll carry them for you. ...later, I mean. right now it’s late, and we’re all cold and wet.”)

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

I was going back and binging Ochako chapters this past week for reasons, and I gotta say it really stuck out to me just how often these two are paired with each other. they do everything together. it’s a really sweet friendship that often goes unappreciated but it’s very cute

meanwhile, not to be outdone by the OchaTsu, Iida is staring at Ochako with open admiration talking about how she’s fighting too. it’s been so long since we’ve had any IidaRaka you guys. I was starving and I didn’t even know it

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

THE LIGHT IS BACK. he finally looks like him again. what a cathartic fucking moment omg

ffklkdw

“I KNOW YOU ARE ALL SCARED, BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS, WE DEFINITELY CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY AND WE ARE ALL SCARED TOO!” good pep talk there kiddo

BUT, jokes aside, truth be told this is the exact right approach to take imo, and something that’s long overdue. I’ve said this before, but this new generation of heroes is shaping up to be much more transparent than the All Might generation. they’re basically abandoning the almighty, untouchable Superman “heroes as gods” concept in favor of the more nuanced “heroes as people” concept instead. and that’s a good thing. seeing their heroes as humans, with human limitations and weaknesses and flaws, will hopefully not only lead to more scrutiny and accountability, but also more awareness of how hard some of them are working and how much they’re sacrificing. that’s something All Might never quite grasped back at the start of the series -- that the weak, vulnerable, injured him could be just as inspiring as the mighty, invincible him -- perhaps even more so. there’s a power in seeing otherwise ordinary people show extraordinary bravery and compassion. it inspires others to try and do the same

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

so he was still back at the hospital this whole time?? smdh at this disrespect. that feeling when your sexy self-insert character’s powers of rationality are too strong, and so you have to nerf him so that he doesn’t ruin your Deku Angst arc twice over by (1) immediately talking some sense into Deku and making him come home Right This Instant Young Man, and (2) not allowing him to leave U.A. in the first fucking place. excuse me, you want to do WHAT now, Midoriya?? that’s it, go to your room

also living for Katsuki and Hawks’s soft expressions. Shouto’s too, although his is tinier and harder to see. and Jeanist’s 12-foot-long neck. imagine Jeanist’s head with Mic’s hair. maybe Jeanist had a mohawk back in the day and that’s why U.A.’s doors are so big now

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

what could this random close-up possibly imply?? hell if I know. but Horikoshi truly fears no discourse and that’s what I love about him

OMGGGG

“smh my child is so dumb.” poor Ochadad. your child is cute af count your blessings

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

this speech is still ongoing lol. Horikoshi you’re doing so good but I think we get the point now my dude. you gotta learn how to transition out of these things

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

“there we go” Horikoshi says, crossing off the last line on his list of Ochako ships. “that’s all of ‘em”

poor Ochako is just repeating the same “LET HIM REST, PLEASE, WITH EVERYONE’S COOPERATION, IF YOU DON’T MIND, WE APPRECIATE IT” talking points over and over again hoping someone will throw her a bone and acknowledge her already. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP HER

literally they’re all just staring up at her silently omg. work with me people!!

now she’s saying it for the 56th time but more dramatically all of a sudden

they got so dramatic that for a minute I thought she had suddenly leaped off the building or something

look, not to rush you or anything Horikoshi, but I’m starting to get the feeling that this is yet another one of those “the volume is ending soon so I need to either hurry things up or slow things down in order to make sure we end it on my perfect cliffhanger ending” chapters where you go to ridiculous lengths to drag things out much to the exasperation of your week-to-week readers

(ETA: ftr, volume 31 ended on chapter 306, and I’m predicting that vol. 32 will end with chapter 316 (a.k.a. “you’re next!” [explodes]). I’m guessing vol. 33 will follow suit and likely end on chapter 326, so keep your eyes peeled for a big cliffhanger in two weeks’ time. Deku’s dad?? All Might in peril?? U.A. traitor at long fucking last?? we shall see.)

is Deku straight up falling in love with Ochako right on the spot lol what is happening

I know I just said that I enjoy when Horikoshi gives zero fucks about discourse, but shipping discourse is a whole different beast lol. I hope he’s prepared

(ETA: and for the record, I have no interest in shipping discourse either, as always. and I think this scene can be interpreted as platonic, tbh, with the context being that Ochako was literally introduced as someone who was willing to help him so casually without a second thought, and now here she is saving him again.

I don’t think it really fully hit Deku until this moment how much he needed saving. like I said in another meta somewhere, selflessness is basically just selfishness on behalf of others. and Deku is selfless to a fault, but that’s okay, and it doesn’t mean he needs to change -- he just needs friends who are willing to be be selfish on his behalf in turn. and I think the full emotion of what it means to have friends like that just hit him at last. everything his friends have done for him, how much he needed it and didn’t even realize, and how grateful he is. anyways what a terrible day for rain.)

-- son of a --

is he apologizing?? or pleading?? please tell me that’s not the case, because what the actual fuck. Deku you beautiful precious radiant selfless child, this is the exact opposite of how this should be. all these motherfuckers should be on their knees apologizing to you

DEKU WHY

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS FREAKING BOMBARDMENT OF EMOTIONS GODDAMIT. OUT HERE ARMED WITH YOUR FREAKING TREBUCHET OF FEELS TO LAUNCH AT ME UNPROVOKED. WHAT’S WITH THAT

FREAKING CHRIST. THIS BOY IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND HORIKOSHI IS JUST ZOOMING IN WITH THE CAMERA, LIKE CAN WE JUST CUT HIM A BREAK ALREADY. ENOUGH OF THIS. HE’S SO YOUNG AND HE TRIES SO HARD AND I JUST NEED HIM TO FEEL SAFE, HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME THAT ALREADY WHAT IS THE FREAKING HOLD UP!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY PLEASE BE MY HUGGER BY PROXY!! SERIOUSLY GIRL IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR UMBRELLA OVER HIM OR SOMETHING AND DON’T GO THE EXTRA MILE I’M ABOUT TO LODGE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS NOW

!!!!

A KOUTA IS GOOD TOO!!! oh my god if Kouta hugs him I will seriously 100% straight up cry. go on and test me

FOR THE LOVE OF --

is this man expressly forbidden from drawing hugs in his contract or something. DO YOU DO IT JUST TO SPITE ME?? this is tyranny, sir

AND I KNOW, THIS PAGE ACTUALLY CHALLENGED THE VERY PREMISE OF THE SERIES ITSELF, AND HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HUGS, OR THE LACK THEREOF. “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes.” and just like that, he waves a polite middle finger at all of the Strongest Greatest Chosen One shounen protags of old, in favor of something much less conventional, much more interesting, and much more suited to Deku’s character. because if that one sentence doesn’t just sum up Deku to a T. he gladly relinquishes his Greatest Hero status in favor of acknowledging the hero in everyone. what a class act. that’s my protagonist

I love this kid so fucking much I swear. only just PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE HIM HIS HUG

[pan-fangirl-345]

He Would Tear the World Apart

Summary: During a raid, you're taken hostage. Shouto doesn't take the news well, and will do anything to get you back.

TW: kidnapping, abuse, alcoholism mentioned, Enji Todoroki's bad parenting, mental torture, dissociating, injuries, blood, angst, mentioned character death (no one actually dies), a lot of swearing, chains, starvation, dehydration, that sort of thing. If there's anything I missed, please let me know! Also, there is a happy ending, so it's angst to fluff!

A/N: First and foremost, I have no medical degree, I have no idea what it's like to dissociate, so anything medically incorrect is because I am not a doctor, though I am currently working on getting my psychology degree. I'm sorry if this offends anyone, that was not the intention. I have no idea what went through my head to make me write all of this in an hour, but here you go. Also, please read the trigger warnings, and if you don't like it, don't read it. Anyway, I might make a part two to this if anyone is interested. Feel free to spam my ask box, or slide into my DM's if you want. Please interact with me, I adore you all.

Aizawa sighed as he stepped into the conference room. He sat down heavily in his usual seat, and Nezu climbed onto his shoulder, as was custom after so many years, despite the situation they were in.

Again.

"As you have all heard, one of the second year students, (Y/N), has been taken. She was last seen on a raid with the hero she was studying under, and we haven't heard anything from her since this transmission."

Nezu pressed play on a recording and her voice floated through the air.

She was panting, and she was whispering, but Aizawa knew that it was her.

"To anyone receiving this transmission, this is hero-in-training Tempest, I'm pursuing the criminals associated with the gang 'The Numerals'. I've been separated from the others and my comms have been compromised by one of the members. Please, send back-up."

There was a pause where all they could hear was her breathing, and suddenly she yelled, "Hey! You, stop!"

There was static, and then there was nothing.

"We have received information from one of our recon teams that they have taken her to their base of operations, though we don't know exactly where that is yet. We have also, as a school, received a ransom demand. Her parents have yet to be contacted about this."

Copies of the notes were handed out to the teachers, and they all frowned, clearly thinking the same thing Aizawa had thought.

They were a school, what kind of school had this kind of money sitting around?

"What is the girl's quirk?"

"She can create different types of storms in her hands," Aizawa supplied. "As of the end of last year, she could make a hurricane for a few minutes at a time, sometimes a dust storm, and I know for a fact that she was undergoing training over the summer, so it might be more than that now. Under extreme duress, she can make a full scale electrical storm in a building or outside, but only if her life is threatened."

"So, not helpful for getting out of this kind of situation?" one of the other teachers chirped and Aizawa nodded.

"No," he agreed. "Though we should be checking for any strange storms and freak electrical spikes."

"Do any of the other students know about this?" Hizashi asked.

"No, and we need to keep it that way," Aizawa told his husband.

"Why?" Vlad King asked.

"(Y/N) is Todoroki Shouto's girlfriend," Aizawa replied, then waited for that to sink in before he continued. "If he finds out that she's gone, or that's she's been kidnapped and harmed . . . ." He shook his head a few times before he added, "He would tear the world apart to get her back."

"Fuck," someone mumbled, and Aizawa nodded.

Pretty much everyone that was at U.A. knew what that girl meant to Shouto, not to mention the people at Endeavor's agency, and the one that (Y/L/N) was working with.

"Alright, so what's the plan?" Midnight asked.

"We plan a rescue mission," Nezu said. "We're working with nearly every police force in the country to try and figure out where they're keeping her. We have a rough area," he clicked onto a photo of a map, one area to the far north highlighted in bright red. "But there's nothing we can do until then, we need a warrant and evidence."

"The life of a child isn't enough?" Midnight asked. "Especially such a beautiful girl?"

Everyone went quiet, the mood somber and heavy.

"Aizawa, you spent more time with this girl than anybody," one of the third year teachers said, "how likely is it that she'll find a way out on her own?"

"It's a possibility," Aizawa admitted. "She's a very capable student, on par with Midoriya, Todoroki, and Bakugou, but they know what she can do. Not to mention that sources tell us she was injured, though we aren't sure to what extent. And the longer she spends with them is more time Shouto has to figure out what's happening. Not to mention the other students. We need to get her out as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Hizashi added.

It was no secret that Present Mic and Eraserhead had both taken a liking to you when you were in Class 1-A, all of the teachers liked you, and you were a solid foundation for your classmates.

You were a calm presence, and everyone, Bakugou included, had gone to you for advice at some point, though it was all for different reasons.

You tend to be a level-headed person, but when you felt strongly about something, nothing was going to stop you.

People, Shouto mainly, would start to sense the lack of your presence, and Aizawa wasn't ashamed to admit that he wanted you back where you belonged.

"We can't keep him, Shouto I mean, in the dark about this," Hizashi murmured. "He's one of the best up and coming heroes."

"Not to mention," Aizawa added, "that we plan on flooding the streets with her photo. We've already sent it to all of the major hero agencies involved with the search, Endeavor's being one of them. If we don't tell him, his father will, and we all know how volatile that relationship is."

Everyone in the room shuddered at the mention of the father and son duo and nodded.

"Aizawa, All Might, it might be better if you both told him," Nezu said. "You both have the best relationship with him in this room, and you might be the only two that could hold him back if he reacts violently."

"And he will," Aizawa mumbled, already standing from his chair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shouto knew something was wrong.

He hadn't seen or heard from you in two days, almost three, and the teachers were acting suspicious. There were fewer of them in the halls, and Aizawa was even more tired than usual, with dark worry bags under his eyes that the students hadn't seen since the Bakugou Debacle in their first year.

The last he had heard, you were going on a raid for some gang members that were selling some sort of hallucinogenic drug based off of a mirage quirk.

You hadn't contacted him or come back since.

"Young Shouto, can we speak to you for a moment?" All Might asked, making everyone look up from what they were doing.

Despite the dorms no longer being completely necessary, (the League had backed off a little bit in recent days, and there hadn't been very many Nomu attacks lately), most of Class 1-A, now 2-A, had moved into the dorms for their second year, you and Shouto included.

"Does this have to do with (Y/F/N)?" he asked, standing quickly.

"Unfortunately, yes," Aizawa said, voice somber.

"Todoroki, do you want us to come with you?" Midoriya asked, getting that look on his face.

"If it's about (Y/F/N) then they all deserve to know too," Shouto said. "And I would feel better knowing they were here."

"Of-Of course," All Might replied, glancing at Aizawa nervously.

"(Y/L/N) has been kidnapped and is being held hostage as we speak," he told them, as blunt as ever.

Aizawa ripped his goggles off right before Shouto blew.

One half of his body erupted into blue tinted flames, and the other exploded in a rain of ice, but they evaporated quickly under Aizawa's gaze, and before any damage could be done to the dorms.

Everything went dark in his head, and his feet were moving before he even had a chance to fully process what his former teachers had been saying to him.

"And where do you think you're going?" Aizawa asked, raising an eyebrow as he moved to intercept him.

"To find her," Shouto snarled, and he didn't even recognize his own voice. It was several octaves lower than normal, and there was a rasp to it that had never been there before. "To get my girlfriend back."

"You don't even know where she is," Aizawa said. "We don't even know where she is. Besides, you're too emotionally involved."

"Too emotionally involved?" Shouto said, his voice too calm, his eyes too dead.

Everyone in the room took a step away from him. Everyone except Midoriya and Bakugou.

"Too emotionally involved?" he repeated.

"Oh shit," someone whispered, though Shouto didn't know who it was.

"That is my girlfriend. That is the love of my life and you're telling me that I can't get her back because . . . I'm too emotionally involved? What about when Midoriya went to get Eri? Was he too 'emotionally involved'?"

No one dared to point out that it was nowhere near the same thing, but there was a collective thought about it in the room.

"That is my fucking girlfriend out there," he snapped. "I will work harder than anyone to get her back. I will be the one person wholly invested in making sure that she stays safe."

"And that is why you can't be one of the people in on this," Aizawa told him. "The others are her friends, but you? You are way more than that, and that means that when it comes down to it, you can't make a clear-headed decision on whether it's worth it to try and grab her or not. Because she'll always be worth it to you."

"Damn right she will," Shouto said, staring Aizawa down.

No one had heard Shouto swear this much at once, if ever, depending on the person. He was starting to sound like Bakugou, and the others knew immediately that if you weren't back soon, he was going to blow.

"Look kid, I understand," Aizawa muttered. "I really do. I understand how you feel, I would do that same thing for Hizashi, but I also know what I would do, and we can't have that in the investigation. What would (Y/F/N) want?"

"She would want to be here!" Shouto shouted. "She would want to be teasing Bakugou in the kitchen, making sure that everyone had a blanket for movie night. She would want to be curled up with me on the couch watching bad romance movies that the girls cheated their way into picking out and making sure that I-!"

Shouto stopped as the emotions got lodged in his throat. Tears threatened to spill over as his vision got blurry, and the others were there to catch him as his knees gave out on him.

"We'll get her back kid," Aizawa assured him, crouching down, touching the top of his head softly. "We will get her back."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your head was buzzing as you came back to consciousness and you suppressed a groan of pain.

Consciousness hurt.

You did a short mental tally of your injuries.

Your ribs were definitely a little bruised, if not cracked or broken. Your lips were split in at least four different places each. One shoulder was definitely dislocated, and the other was hurt in some way. Your left ankle was bruised and swollen, broken probably. Your head probably had a huge gash if the blood running down the side of your face was anything to go by, and you were definitely concussed on some level.

Apparently getting your head slammed into solid concrete by someone who had launched themselves off a ledge would do that to you.

You were in what looked like a basement of some sort. The walls were solid concrete, there were pipes running overhead and dripping on you randomly, which wasn't appreciated, and there was insulation and plaster showing through here and there.

"Finally awake sleeping beauty?"

Your head whipped around to see your kidnapper, but your head protested and so did your stomach, despite the fact that there was nothing in it.

You suppressed a groan, trying to keep your stomach where it belonged.

"Ready to tell us who the informant is?"

"Go straight to hell," you muttered, when you were certain you wouldn't throw up on yourself, glaring at them.

"I still can't believe you were fucking stupid enough to kidnap a child! She doesn't know shit," the other man snapped at the first.

"She has to know something!" the first guy snapped. "She was in on the raid!"

His quirk allowed him to change his voice, so he wasn't using the real one, he sounded like a guy that smoked twenty packs of cigarettes a day.

The other guy you had started calling Sandy in your head. His quirk was similar to yours, he was able to turn anything he touched into sand, and then use it. He mostly made sand storms, and that's how they had gotten the jump on you in the tunnels.

One had blinded you while the other had carried you away, much to chagrin of the Sandy.

"I'm in training," you rasped. "I'm hero-in-training Tempest, from Class 2-A at the school U.A."

They hadn't given you anything to drink in the last two days, from what you could even remember of it, and you knew that you weren't going to last much longer, having been dehydrated when they had taken you.

They had kidnapped you from the raid site, and then spent six hours driving around like morons trying to cover their tracks, before driving for an unknown amount of time before they had dumped you in here. You had been unconscious for the secondary part of the drive, and you knew that with everything going on, there was the possibility you were experiencing retrograde amnesia.

"They don't tell me the important stuff like that. I get told when we're going on raids, and what my part in them is, and that's on the very rare occasion that they happen during my shifts. Most of the time, I'm on patrols around the city," you told them, taking a break in your little speech to spit blood onto the floor by your leg. "You need directions, I'm your girl, but you need to know who's a rat, sorry, I can't help."

You would've shrugged, but your arms were chained to the wall behind you, and every time you moved your right arm it made an awful clicking noise that you knew wasn't natural. Your left shoulder was dislocated as well, meaning your arms were pretty much useless.

One leg was operational, but barely. You were so far out of commission you wouldn't be surprised if U.A. kicked you out to recuperate.

U.A. wouldn't, and couldn't, pay the ransom. You knew that. The best hope you had was that you could act your way out of this, or that they planned a raid to get you out.

They had done it for Bakugou, why not you, right?

Shouto passed through your thoughts, thoughts about what he might do to get you back, but you shut them down as soon as they entered your head.

You were trying to keep him in a safe place.

You hoped that Shouto never learned about this. About where they were keeping you, what they had already done to try and get you to talk.

He was your safe place now, safe and away from this building, wherever you were. You thought maybe if you could keep him out of your head here, it was a way of protecting him from the reality of your situation, even if he already knew.

"She's a kid," Sandy snarled, pointing at you viciously. "She's a kid. You know the Boss' rules about kids and you broke almost every one of them!"

"Yeah, well-"

"Guys, hey, I hate to interrupt," you interjected, "but I really have to go to the bathroom."

They both stared at you for a moment before Sandy asked, "Do you promise to not try and escape?"

"Buddy, I don't know if you've looked recently, but I doubt I'm doing anywhere," you quipped. "My ankle is obviously demolished, my head was cracked open like an egg, thanks to your buddy Darth Vader over there. Not to mention, I'm dehydrated and starving, and don't even get me started on how much my ribs are killing me right now, probably literally. Do I look like I'm in any shape to try and escape?"

Sandy frowned, glancing at you like this was the first time he was seeing the extent of what had been done to you.

"Alright, I'm going to undo the chains, but you can't try to escape, you'll only make things worse for yourself."

"Death seems preferable at this point," you grunted, trying to hide the pain you were in.

"Don't you have healing supplies?"

"How am I supposed to use them when I can't move my fucking arms?" you asked, wiggling your fingers in emphasis. "And you morons confiscated my belt, which had them all in it! You know what my quirk is! What did you think was in it? Explosives? No, I leave that to Dynamight."

"Fuck," Sandy muttered.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" the voice dude asked.

"Because if she dies then that means no money and no chance of surviving prison again. Do you know what happens to people who mess with kids in prison? Nothing good."

You logged that little piece of information away, trying to focus on their features, but with your concussion, your eyes weren't the hottest.

"Can you move?" Sandy asked you as he worked on unlocking your chains.

You couldn't help the cry of pain when your arms dropped to your sides, tearing stinging your eyes as you bit into your already roughed up lip.

"Shit. Can we get a medic in here?" Sandy shouted.

A door opened and someone stuck their head in. Sandy repeated his demand, and the door shut again.

"Why are you doing this?" you whimpered, trying to keep your voice even.

If they were sadists, any fear or pain you showed only gave them what they wanted.

"Because we don't have a choice," Sandy said. "The Boss gave us somewhere to belong, he gave us a place off the streets. We owe him. We would've died."

"Shut up," Smoker snapped, and you glanced at him.

"I have a headache, and it comes and goes as you talk. Please, for the love of all things holy, shut up," you hissed to Darth Vader, wanting to touch your head, but not being able to for multiple reasons.

Sandy touched your shoulder lightly and you cried out again, moving automatically to hit him, but your other arm twinged, bringing more tears to your eyes.

"Sorry," Sandy murmured, pulling his hands away.

You took a shaky breath, waiting for the pain to dull before you said, "There's no way I'm moving from this spot without being in pain, and I'm definitely going to need help."

"Holy fuck, you two morons were two lucky blows away from killing her."

You glanced over to see someone with a med kit strolling leisurely down the stairs.

"Hello Tempest," they said, giving you a bright smile.

"Hello Med Kit," you replied, giving them a grimace.

"You can call me Himo for now," Med Kit said. "Do you mind if I take a look?"

"You're going to whether I want you or not, but sure, go ahead," you muttered. "It's not really like you can make this any worse."

"I could break almost every bone in your body and keep you alive while doing it, so I could do so much worse, but that's not the goal here," Himo told you, setting to work.

"So what is the goal? Since I'm assuming that I'm never going to get out of here," you said, glancing around.

"Why do you think that?" Himo asked, ignoring your first question.

"Because I've seen your faces, I know your quirks, I know a general area of where I'm being kept, unless someone used a teleportation quirk of some sort. I know the school won't pay the ransom, my parents don't have that kind of money, and my boyfriend's father would never pay to see me safe and sound. He would probably twist his son's grief to get him to be compliant," you grumbled. "Besides, I'm a hero, hero-in-training, whatever, it's all semantics. I'm basically your arch-nemesis. Isn't that what every villain wants? To kill the person in their way?"

"We aren't villains," Sandy muttered.

"You break laws put in place to protect people, you attacked a minor, then kidnapped her after assaulting her, and you are trying to get a ransom for me," you pointed out. "That doesn't really scream 'hero' or 'civilian' to me."

"Have you ever though about who writes the rules? About how money can manipulate everything? The system is flawed, and we are going to make sure people know it," Darth Vader snarled. "Do you understand how unfair the world is?"

"Don't talk to me about the world being unfair," you whispered, your voice dropping, every muscle in your body tensing. "My boyfriend loves his mother more than pretty much anyone in the world. Her parents, his grandparents, arranged a quirk marriage, and she had four children she didn't necessarily want. Her husband drove her to near insanity, enough so that she poured a kettle of boiling water over my boyfriend's face because he looks like his father. His father has already managed to get one of his children killed, and he considers the other rejects because they don't have the quirk he wanted them to have. He's a different kind of monster, and he's not in jail.

"My own father verbally and mentally abused me for as long as I can remember. My mother and I were zombies until recently, when I decided I had had enough and my mother finally found the courage and will to leave his sorry ass in the gutters where it belongs. My father always had enough alcohol in his system to make him a human molotov cocktail. I had little to no self esteem until recently, and I still struggle to understand and comprehend that I am worth love. I am still learning to respect myself. So you don't get to preach to me about how unfair the world is buddy, we all know," you snarled.

"The hundreds, thousands of kids out on the street know. The women and men that get raped, and continue to see their own personal monster roam free know. The kids that get hit every day for not being what their parents want know. That's why people like me exist, to put away the monsters wearing human skin. That's why my friends and I try so hard to be heroes. It's not about the glory, or the money. It's about bring people to justice, it's about making sure that people feel safe. It's about giving other people something that we never had."

Silence echoed through the room as what you said sank in.

You hadn't meant to burst like that, but you were sick and tired of these guys using their shitty lives to make other people's lives shitty too.

"Why are you a hero, Tempest?" Himo asked.

"Because I want to save people," you replied. "I just told you that. I want to make sure that every child like me knows that they don't have to be their parents, that there is another option. I don't want the abused becoming the abuser. I want to make sure that the people doing the bad things get put where they belong. I want to help the kids that have nothing to lose, I want to help them realize that they have everything to gain. I want to give people like you hope."

There was no use in lying to them, they were probably going to kill you anyway. Besides, it might help you build rapport, and they might let you go when they realized that they made a mistake.

"People like us?"

"People who think that there isn't another option. People who have been shown nothing but the horrid parts of the world, the horrible parts of humanity. People who don't know what it's like to be loved completely by somebody, both good and bad. People who think that they owe someone who isn't worth one minute of their time. Good people who strayed too far from the path."

There was silence for a few minutes before you said, "I've seen a lot of real villains, people who aren't capable of basic human emotions, I've seen people who have no humanity in their eyes. They are the villains, they are the monster under our beds personified. People like you, you just simply wandered. You aren't lost, you're just further to the side than some other people. It would be easy for you to walk the path again."

You paused, thinking over what you said, then added, "Well, it wouldn't be easy necessarily, but it would be worth it."

"You still have the naivety of a child," Vader snarled.

"Call me what you want, naive, innocent, optimistic, I've heard it all, but in the end, I'm right," you told him.

"And how do you know that?"

"Because, at the end of the day, I know that every life I save isn't just one life," you replied. "That young woman I saved, she might have kids some day, or foster a child that needs a loving mother. That child I shoved out of the way might help the suicidal child in his class. Every life I save touches other people's lives. As hard as it is to believe, no one is ever truly alone in the world. Every smile I give to a stranger might make their day, might help them live long enough to find the thing that makes them happy. That's why I'm a hero."

More silence.

Your face heated, but there was something in their faces that told you they had never thought about it that way before.

"So, is there anything you can do to heal me?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"Like I said, these guys were two lucky blows away from killing you, I'm surprised that you're still alive, actually, everything considered. Your head will heal on it's own, but there might be a little scar left. However, your ribs might take longer. Three are cracked, and four are bruised. Your ankle might need surgery to get it back to the way it was. It's definitely broken, and there might be small bone particles floating around in there, I'm not entirely sure, my quirk isn't that detailed I'm afraid. Not to mention that, from what I can see, your shoulders just need to be popped back into place. One was dislocated more than the other, but it will hurt."

"Can't hurt worse than the state I'm in now. So what can you do? I'm assuming that taking me to a hospital is out of the question."

"Well, I can treat the cut on your head, relocate your shoulders, and I can see if someone else can take a look at your ankle, but everything else will have to heal on it's own."

"So there isn't much?"

"Nope, we don't have the equipment needed for your ankle here, and, like you said, no hospitals."

"Fucking gre- wait a minute, to you guys still have my belt?" you asked, perking up a little.

"Yeah, it's over here," Sandy said, walking over into the back corner, pulling your med belt out.

"Hand it over. I promise there's nothing too harmful in there. There are some painkillers, but it's just Midol. It's all medical stuff," you said, wincing as Sandy dropped it into your lap.

You opened it, taking out a small device.

"What does that thing even do?" Himo asked, looking at it warily.

"It's not a communicator or anything," you hurried to explain. "I made some friends in the support courses, so I asked if they could make me a device that works like an X-ray would. Himo, take it."

He took from you gently, which you appreciated, and turned it all around, trying to figure out how it worked.

"Alright, see that little button on the top left, yeah, right there. Click that button twice, like hitting the home button of a phone."

Himo did as he was told, and the screen blinked to life.

"Alright, hold the over my hurt ankle, and it should be able to show what's going on. Or," you added, "it'll blow up. Hatsume is kind of unpredictable like that."

Himo's hands tightened on it, but he did what you asked, and was clearly surprised when a detailed X-ray appeared on the screen.

"Holy shit, it worked!" you cheered, grinning.

"You have some very talented friends," Himo told you.

"I know right? She's a little quirky, but she's great at what she does!"

"How are you able to smile right now?" Sandy asked, looking at you with something akin to wonder.

"Don't get me wrong," you started. "I'm fucking terrified, but there's not much I can do in this situation. Besides, from what I can tell, other than the initial assault, you people don't want to hurt me. You want something from me. In this scenario, what I'm guessing, is that you want something from me, so you're going to be nice, and make me want to help you out, or make me feel like I owe you one, and then, when I don't comply, you'll either torture me to try and get what you want until I die, or you'll just kill me right off the bat."

Himo winced, and Sandy twitched.

"You guys really hate the thought of me dying, don't you?" you asked, cocking your head to the side, despite the protect of your brain. "Is this one of those scenarios where kids should be off limits?"

"We may be bad guys, but we have certain priorities," Sandy admitted. "Kids are a sore spot for most of us."

You nodded slightly. "I can see why. You guys said something about being on the streets? I know that sometimes kids band together, that's how they survive. I'm assuming you've lost friends."

"Smart kid," Himo murmured, eyes darting over the X-ray.

"Sometimes they give us profile training," you admitted. "Besides, I've been working on my psychology degree."

"Wicked smart kid," Sandy quipped.

"Alright, so I can set your ankle, there isn't anything wrong with it other than the obvious fact that it's broken," Himo said, handing the device back to you. "Riko, I'm gonna need your help."

"With what?" Sandy asked, looking skeptical.

"Can you hold her legs down? I need to relocate her shoulders before I do anything with her ankle, just because I have a feeling she attacks when she's hurt."

"Good instincts," you muttered.

"I'm a doctor," he confessed, grinning. "You learn a thing or two."

"Sorry about this," Sandy said.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," you told him. "As long as that's all you do I'll considerate your way of trying to make up from everything else."

Sandy snorted, holding your legs just below your knees.

"This is going to hurt," Himo warned.

"I would be surprised if it-"

You clenched your teeth to try and keep your scream in as Himo popped your right arm back into place.

The rest of your body bucked, trying to roll away, but Sandy, Riko, had a firm hold on you.

You panted as the pain started to fade a little in your arm.

"Sorry, I've found it works better when people aren't expecting it," he said.

"Son of a bitch," you gritted out, spitting blood off to the side. "I bit my tongue."

Riko chuckled, shaking his head.

"Alright, now for the other one," Himo murmured. "I really don't understand how you managed to take this much damage."

"At least I only broke my ankle. My friend Deku has broken both arms, both legs, and both hands before. I think he's broken almost every bone in his body sa-"

Himo popped your other arm back into place and you couldn't stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks at that one, your jaw almost cracking with how hard you clenched it to try and keep the noises in.

"Fucking fuck," you muttered when the pain pulsed into something a little bit more bearable.

"Better?" Himo asked, prodding your shoulders.

"Yeah," you admitted, moving them slowly. You dug around in your med belt, pulling out two pieces of metal and a small bottle.

"What is that for?" Himo asked.

You pushed a button on the metal, and they extended to the required length.

"It's for a splint, or a cast," you told him. "Once you set my ankle, you put the metal on either side, and I can spray this one. It's a special kind of plaster, don't ask me how it works, I have no idea what's in it, but it'll hold until my ankle is fully healed, then it'll fall off on it's own."

"Amazing!"

"Heroes, when the respond to disasters, often have to set up triages until other emergency responders can arrive, so we have to know a little bit about basic medical treatments in emergencies like that. So a lot of us have belts and such to keep medical stuff in. I also keep duct tape and glue in here. You never know when you're gonna need it."

You pulled out some painkillers, popping two in your mouth, taking them dry.

"How?" Vader asked, sounding horrified.

"Hate to break it to you, but when you're a teenage girl, especially one learning to be a hero, when you don't always have time for water, you learn to take pills dry."

"TMI," Vader muttered.

"Hey, jackass, you asked," you told him.

Riko and Himo chuckled.

"Alright. Riko, see if you can get a hold on her, this is gonna hurt like a bitch," Himo warned. "Li, hold her other leg down."

"Don't use my fucking name!" Vader shouted.

"You know, I wouldn't have known that was your real name if you hadn't reacted that way," you told him. "Heroes are also trained to pick up on certain behaviors like that."

Li grumbled, but did as he was asked.

Himo situated himself, then said, "Get ready."

The pain had you blacking out before you knew what happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I knew something was wrong," Shouto muttered for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. "I should have gone with her!"

"Dude, it wasn't even your mission," Kaminari told him. "There was nothing you could've done for her."

"Yeah you half-and-half bastard," Bakugou chimed in. "Besides, we're gonna get her back, so shut up and try and think of something useful."

Everyone had leapt into action when it had sunk in that you were in serious danger. It didn't take long, and no one wanted to acknowledge that it was worrisome.

They had split up into teams.

Midoriya, Bakugou, Shouto, Kaminari, and Kirishima were working on the maps that had been given to the students.

Momo, Jirou, Uraraka, Mina, and Tsuyu were going over the interviews with raid members, trying to gather up information on what had happened, trying to see if there was a traitor among them, other than the undercover agent that they had been told about.

Tokoyami, Ojiro, Shoji, Sero, and Koda were helping the other heroes do recon missions and patrols in the area where they suspected you were being held.

Sato, Shinso, Hagaruke, and Iida were working on the case files of all the known members of the gang that you had been going after. Surprisingly, those four were the only ones able to hear about the things that some of the gang members had done.

Hagakure was crying softly to herself as she read, but no one could pull her away from the files.

"I have to know," she kept saying. "I need to know about what they did so I can help when we get her back."

Sato didn't know you as well as the others did, so he was a little less effected. He were itching to get you back, but the others had spent far more time with you personally.

Shinso, on the other hand, was powering through them, wanting to know what he had to avenge when they got to that building. He wanted to know what they might be doing to you so that he could have far more reason to get them arrested.

Iida just wanted something useful to do.

"They just cleared building seven in section 3-C!" Aoyama called from his spot the progress computer that they had set up in the common room.

Aoyama was in charge of letting them know what had been cleared, what was under suspicion, and what they had ruled out completely.

"Fuck, that pretty much clears that grid section," Bakugou muttered, forcefully crossing an abandoned apartment building off his map.

"They might need to expand their net," Midoriya added. "No one knows where she is. There's the possibility that they aren't even in that area."

"I hate this!" Shouto burst out. "I feel useless just sitting here!"

"It's either this or you get stuck back on the sidelines," Bakugou reminded him and he clenched his fists.

He just wanted you back safe and sound by his side, preferably with his arm around your shoulders.

He'd been trying to remember the last thing he said to you before you had gone on that raid, but he couldn't remember.

He hoped that it was 'I love you' or something similar, but not knowing was killing him.

"Todoroki-kun," Midoriya said, laying a hand on his arm. "We will get her back."

"Yeah, we aren't giving up on her, no way in hell," Kaminari added, eyes flashing gold in the lights of the common room.

"She never gave up on us, it's not manly for us to give up on her," Kirishima chimed in.

"I know," Shouto said. "I trust you all."

It went unsaid, but understood, that when it came time to get her back, Shouto was going to be the one leading the rescue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later, Himo came into the basement and said, "Do you think you can walk?"

"On one leg maybe. Why?" you asked.

Your ankle was wrapped in the cast that you had taken out, but your ankle was feeling a little better than it had been. It still throbbed every once in a while, but it could've been worse.

"The boss wants to see you."

"Oh, the big boss," you griped, rolling your eyes. "He wants to see me he can come down here himself."

Himo hesitated, but he nodded, heading back upstairs.

You had known that there was an undercover agent in the gang, but you had yet to figure out who it was.

Every member of the gang seemed to know that you were there, that, or they were much bigger than you had anticipated.

So far, Himo and Riko were your top two suspicions, given that they were the only two that were actually kind to you, but you had a small part of you that wasn't sure.

The door opening a few minutes later announced the arrival of the leader, and you steeled yourself.

"You fucking morons," the man muttered, rubbing his eyes like he had a headache. "What did I say about kids?"

"Sorry Boss, but we didn't have a choice," Li said, stepping out of the shadows.

He had been stay with you for the entire week, and it was clear that you didn't have the kind of rapport with him that you did with Riko and Himo.

You had been trying to make a storm, something, to let the someone know where you were, but you had idea of knowing whether it was working or not. You were in the experimental stages of the large storm capabilities of your quirk, and you were completely drained at the moment.

"What's your name kid?" the man asked.

His hands were covered in rings, and scars littered the little bit of skin his tailored suit showed off.

You had seen Shouto in high class clothes for gatherings that he was required by social convention to attend, so this guy was either rich, or so far into debt that he was on the run from the banks.

"You can call me Tempest," you said.

"(Y/N). Second year at U.A. Class 2-A student, and one of the new public favorites," Li said.

"Aw, you looked me up, how sweet," you taunted. "But like I said, I prefer Tempest, it sounds cooler."

"Far enough," the boss said.

He was wearing a mask that covered the top half of his face, and a fedora type hat, so there wasn't much to catalog, but you did anyway.

"Are you here to kill me?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, despite the way it made the chains rattle.

"No, not if you give me what I want," the man said. His voice was deep, and he looked like he was in his early thirties, but you weren't entirely sure.

"I don't know who your rat is," you stated.

"How do you know that's what I wanted?"

"When I woke up on day two, your Sandy man and Darth Vader over there were talking about it. Vader actually asked me about it." You paused, then said, "You guys do realize that I'm right under an intern right? I'm not high enough to know about UC's. Think of me like the intern's intern. I'm lucky I even got to go on the raid."

The man watched your for a moment before he said, "I hate it when people tell me the truth. It means I don't get to have any fun."

"Sucks to be you then," you replied. "So what happens now?"

"You get broken," the man said, reaching out to touch your forehead.

"Good luck with that," you muttered when he pulled away.

Then the visions started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Everybody get up!" Aoyama shouted. "Up, up, up! Someone called in a noise complaint late last night!"

Class 2-A poured into the common room.

Shouto, Midoriya, Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero ran in with no shirts on, and Kaminari fell trying to pull his shorts up over his Pikachu boxers. Shinso was already in there sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee clad in a t-shirt with a cat meme and dark jeans.

The girls poured in in a mix of pajamas and hoodies that they had stolen from the boys over the last week, their hair a mess and dark bags under their eyes.

"What's going on?" Shouto asked. He knew that his bags were darker than anyone's, and no one had seen him sleep in almost three days.

"Late last night someone called the tip line anonymously to complain about screaming from a condemned building smack dab in the middle of section 1-A. Someone checked into it and there has been a lot of activity in that area lately," Aoyama explained.

He had given up trying to keep up the sparkly attitude, though some of the French had stayed.

"Is there anything else?"

"Guess which gang has been operating in the middle of that area?" Shinso said, having stayed up with the sparkly blond.

"The Numerals," Shouto said.

"Tres bein!" Aoyama replied.

"Have the heroes been notified?"

"They started a conference at three this morning," Shinso said.

"And no one told us?" Shouto asked.

"They wanted to let us sleep. They know how hard we've been working," Shinso replied.

"I'll sleep when we get her back," Shouto snapped, heading for the conference room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aizawa shouldn't have been surprised when his former students streamed into the meeting that was being held to rescue (Y/L/N), but he was.

Though that might have been because most of the boys were shirtless and the girls were clad in their pajamas, and hoodies that were clearly not theirs.

"Catch us up," Shouto demanded.

"Shouto, what are you-"

"Shouto, you are aware that this is merely to scope out the building, correct?" Aizawa interrupted, glancing at his former class.

"We don't fucking care," Bakugou snarled. "You're going to catch us up, and you're going to let us join, because she's our friend, and we're the strongest team that you could ask for."

"We can't, in good conscience, let kids into-"

"Do we need to mention all the times that the League has attacked us in the last year? Not to mention Gentle Criminal, Stain, the whole Chisaki ordeal, should we go on?" Midoriya asked, frowning.

Endeavor went to talk again but more students started to talk.

"We can help," Kirishima chimed in. "We want to help."

"Besides," Kaminari added before any of the adults could chime in, "the more hands you have the better it'll be. We can capture more members and get her back. It's a win-win scenario. Gangs are known to be disorganized. If you can get word to your informant about a stealth mission, you might be able to get both them and (Y/L/N) out with minimal risk to them both."

"And we have useful quirks," Jirou supplied. "Kaminari can kill any power they have, Bakugou and Midoriya are good for taking stuff down, so are Kirishima and Sato. Todoroki is more than capable of restraining anyone that he comes across, and I can tell you where people are, how many and so on."

"Not to mention I can make communicators that are much harder to disconnect," Momo piped up.

"People don't really know about me yet," Shinso said, hands in his jeans pockets. "They don't know my quirk, so they're much more likely to fall for me, which is more than helpful for you, since it makes fighting back much less likely."

"We want to get her back, me more than anyone," Shouto said, arms crossed over his chest. "We can useful. Besides, I don't think I need to mention all the times that we've stepped in without your permission and gotten the objective completed while keeping everything legal."

Aizawa sighed.

"We really should just let them help," he said. "They're going to keep pushing, and I don't want any of them expelled and arrested. They are some of the best up and coming heroes. Besides, they all make good points."

"I feel the need to point out," Midoriya chimed in, "that the more of us you take, the more heroes you can have causing a distraction, or the more you can release to recharge and work on other things that are starting to take precedent, like the drug that the gang is manufacturing and selling."

There were more whispers, and finally the heroes sighed.

"Alright, but you're working with Eraserhead and Endeavor, since they're going to be leading the mission with Fatgum."

"We can work with that," Bakugou said. "But we want permission to engage if necessary."

"You would have that anyway," Fatgum said.

"We also want credit if we find her," Sero added. "We aren't going to let possible attackers think that we're defenseless. They take on one of us, they take on all of us."

"That can be discussed," Present Mic assured them.

"This should go without saying," Shouto began, "that I get to ride with her in the ambulance when we find her."

"Everyone assumed that anyway," Midnight told him. "Don't worry Todoroki, no one is going to keep you away from her."

Endeavor opened his mouth, but sharp looks from everyone had him shutting it again.

The students nodded.

"Now catch us up," Bakugou demanded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't remember when you had stopped processing things the proper way.

You couldn't remember a time before the nightmares.

They talked to you, they wanted you to know about an informant. Sometimes Shouto appeared, smiling and reaching his hands out to you. Sometimes your father walked in, drunk as always, shouting at you to do better.

You retreated in on yourself.

You turned to that small part of your brain that you had made to wait out the fighting, the yelling, the hurt. You retreated into the part of yourself that you knew no one could ever enter but you.

Shouto was there like he always was. He wasn't entirely your Shouto, but he wasn't the nightmare either.

He was a figment of your imagination, but he made things a little bit better.

"I'll come," he assured you. "I'll find you."

You were lying in a meadow, a small clearing surrounded by trees that were bent over you to create a small dome of shade.

"I know you will," you told him, reaching your hand out to him.

He touched his fingers to yours, but you couldn't feel it.

You remembered someone in the past calling it dissociating, but you weren't a professional yet.

You had never done it at U.A. since you had never felt the need, but this wasn't something that you would ever be able to forget how to do.

You could still see the nightmares, but it was like it was far away, background noise.

"Do you think that you'll ever go back?" Shouto asked. "Do you think that you'll ever go back to me?"

"Maybe, if the nightmares ever stop. If I think that it's actually you that I'm going back to," you said, watching him carefully.

"Do you remember the last thing you said to me?" Shouto inquired.

"Yeah. I said, 'I'll always come back to you'. Why are you asking me that?"

"Do you remember what I said to you?"

"You said, 'Promise me you'll be safe?' I was about to go on the raid, and you were upset about not being able to go with me."

"Do you promise to remember that?" Shouto asked.

"Yeah, I promise," you told him, smiling a little.

"(Y/F/N)! Oh, darling, what did they do to you? (Y/F/N), can you hear me?"

The nightmare was getting better at looking like the real Shouto, and this one had the same voice.

"Go to him," the dream Shouto said, sitting up.

"Why?"

"(Y/F/N), blink if you can hear me," Shouto demanded.

You forced yourself to blink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shouto couldn't describe to absolute relief it was to see you blink.

He had seen the discarded cast off to the side of you, and he wasn't sure whether you would be able to hear him in that state.

"Hey darling, come on, we're gonna get you out of here, I promise," he murmured, touching your face lightly.

"Sh-Shouto," you rasped. "Shouto, wh-what was the last thing that you said to me?"

"Darling, don't try to speak," he told you, trying to figure out how to cut through the chains without hurting you.

"Shouto, what was the last thing that you said to me?" you asked again, reaching up to grab his hand.

"'Do you promise me that you'll be safe?'" he said, eyes roving over you to try and see any wounds. "That's what I said to you."

Your eyes widened in surprise before tears slipped out of your eyes.

"Sho, it really is you!"

"Darling, hey," he murmured, touching your face softly.

You were sobbing now, fully body sobs, and Shouto wanted so badly to take a moment to just relish in the fact that you were safe, but he had to get you out of there as soon as possilbe.

"Tsukuyomi," Shouto called. "Can Dark Shadow cut through chains?"

"Yes."

"I'm on the basement level of the building. I have Tempest, can you meet us down here?"

"On our way," Tokoyami assured him.

"Guys, I have her, she's in the basement with me, we're getting her out as we speak," Shouto declared over the coms, and he was met with cheers and relief that you were okay.

"How many of you are here?" you asked, wiping at your face.

"The whole class is here," Shouto told you. "Most of the hero agencies sent representatives that are here too."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, people were really upset that you were taken, especially with the role you played in apprehending Numeral gang members on the last raid, and the part you played in bringing the drug to light."

"Wow," you murmured, making Shouto laugh.

"Hold on just a little bit longer darling," he coaxed. "Our friends are on the way."

"I can't believe that it's really you," you whispered, touching his face softly, rubbing your thumb over his scar the way you did.

"Oh darling, what did they do to you?" he asked.

"For the past couple of days they've been trying to break me, they want to know who the undercover agent is. I don't know who it is though, so the leader of the Numerals used his quirk on me. He makes the drugs. His quirk makes you see things, makes you feel things. It's like he can burrow into your head and take the images out of your head."

You shuddered in his arms and he frowned as Tokoyami appeared in the doorway.

"Hello (Y/L/N)," he said, smiling at you.

"Hey little bird," you replied, your smile watery with emotions.

"Can Dark Shadow get through those chains?"

"Of course," Tokoyami told Shouto.

"Hello starlight," Dark Shadow said.

"Hi Dark Shadow," you murmured, stroking the sentinent creature before he tore through the chains like paper mache.

You rubbed at your wrists for a moment before you threw your arms around Shouto, burying your face in his neck.

"Sho," you sobbed, tears back full force.

"I've got you darling," he murmured. "I've got you. You're free, you're free."

You nodded, arms tight around him.

Shouto scooped you up, cradling you against his chest, letting you sob as much as you needed to.

The paramedics that had been called to the scene hadn't managed to get Shouto to let go of you, and you showed no signs of letting go of him, so they had managed to do everything they needed to with you clinging to him.

"She'll need physical therapy, not to mention professional trauma therapy. She's malnourished and dehydrated, not to mention suffering from exhaustion and a very severe concussion. Her ankle needs to be further inspected, and there's some internal damage, some cracked ribs that might need to be taken care of, but we can do some more thorough work at the hospital. I assume that you're coming with her?" the paramedic asked when he was finished.

"Yes, I'm her boyfriend," Shouto said.

"Alright, well, you have to let go of her so that we can get her hooked up to an IV and make sure that we don't make her concussion any worse. You really shouldn't have moved her, but there's only so much we can do about that now," the other paramedic told him.

"I-It's okay Shouto," you murmured, pulling away from him enough to wipe your face off.

Your breathing was ragged, and you looked like you wanted to go back to being unconscious, but you allowed the paramedics to get you onto an IV and a bed with a neck supporter.

"Shouto, will you stay with me?" you asked.

"Always darling," Shouto said, gripping your hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forthree weeks afterwards, you were stuck in the hospital. Your ankle hadn't been as bad as it had been feared, you back on your feet in a week, and you were undergoing physical therapy.

You were back to a normal diet, and you were going to therapy three times a week. Well, the shrink came to you, but semantics.

Your class visited every day, bringing you your homework and recorded lessons, most of them crying, and more than elated that you were back, safe.

Shouto, after being given permission by your parents, was being counted as a family member, and he had been practically living in the hospital with you.

For the first week, he had refused to leave your hospital room. He had slept curled around you, despite the machines that you had been hooked up to, he had missed class, staying with you and keeping you company.

There was also the reason of him being the only one to be able to calm you down after a nightmare.

There were nightmares where you woke up sweaty and nervous, asking the nurse on the night shift to light the candles that were all around your room.

But there were some that had you hurtling to the small bathroom in your room, hurling the contents of your stomach up. Then there were the ones that got so bad that you locked yourself in the bathroom, hiding yourself away in a corner until someone noticed and got a hold of Shouto.

They were getting better, and you were getting better about people coming up behind you, the touching.

For a few days after being admitted to the hospital, the only person who could touch you was Shouto.

Your mother had been heart broken every time you flinched away from her touches.

Your father had only come once, and he had been carried out by hospital staff after Shouto had tossed him out of your room.

You had retreated into yourself after that, and had come clean to Shouto about some of what had happened while you were being held hostage.

The therapy was helping, and so was the massive support that you were getting from the public and other heroes that had been in similar situations.

Your friends were very understanding of you not touching them as much anymore, and you and Bakugou were closer than ever, since he had experienced something similar.

Today was your first day back in the dorms, and you weren't going to lie to yourself, you were nervous.

The class had slowly starting moving all the gifts that you were receiving into your room, so you were only carrying a small bag.

"Shouto," you began. "You know that you can walk away if I get to be too much right?"

It had been bothering you for a while, that he had stayed with you for so long. It had bothered you that he had given up so much of his time for you, while getting very little from you in return.

"Why would I do that?" Shouto asked cocking his head to the side in confusion.

"I just mean that . . . well, I know that I haven't been the easiest girlfriend to have recently, and I . . . I have more issues than when we first started dating, and things have changed. I'm way more high maintenance than I was. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted a different girl-"

"Stop it right there," he demanded, turning to you.

His eyes were hard, despite his soft tone of voice.

"(Y/F/N), I don't want anyone other than you," he said. "I don't care if you wake me up at three in the morning screaming. I don't care if you sometimes have days where you feel like you can't say anything to me. I don't care if you have days where you can't get out of bed. I love you. I love you more than anything, and those things are not going to stop me from loving you.

"You are one of the strongest women in my life, and I am not letting you go because you have some issues. We've all got issues, hell, I have issues we haven't even touched on. Those things are just another part of you that I get to love. Alright?"

You nodded, blinking back tears.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" you asked softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He waited for a moment before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

You weren't entirely sure why touch was such a problem for you now. Other than the injuries you had received during the fight, nothing had happened to you that would explain it, nothing you could remember anyway.

There had been some retrograde amnesia that went along with your kidnapping, though the doctors had assured you that those memories would come back with enough time.

And they had. There were still a few blank spots, but there weren't nearly as many as there had been.

"All the right things," he murmured, kissing your forehead hesitantly.

"I love you too Shouto," you told him.

He smiled softly at you, then turned towards the doors.

They opened, revealing your friends and a huge banner with your characterized face on it.

"Surprise!" they all said, though they didn't yell it like you had thought they would.

"Welcome home (Y/F/N)," Shouto said, sliding his arm around your shoulders as you both walked out.

Yeah, this was home.

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring deep in the soul (a katsuki bakugo/reader fic)

Summary: Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. He'd worked hard to achieve his position, his fame. And now it was all going down the damn drain, along with his hearing.

~*~*

Bakugo is suffering from hearing loss as a side effect of his quirk, and he struggles with how to face this new challenge. Enter Reader with a healing quirk.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader; Katsuki Bakugo/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood & violence. 

A/N: No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.” 

Ao3 Link: Here 

*****A/N Part 2: This post has now been updated to include the links to Ch 2

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here 

Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. Actually, he’d argue he was tied for first place with the current Symbol of Peace, Shitty Deku. Their victory statistics were basically the fucking same, the only difference was the freckled idiot was made of smiles and sunshine and stupid fucking sugar or something. The whole world ate out of his scarred, fucked up hand, and Darling Deku ate up all the media’s attention in return. 

In contrast, Bakugo wasn’t a “people person,” as Deku loved to put it, but… he also wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old brat who got muzzled on live national television. Pro Hero Dynamight was known for his crass, blunt language, his vicious streak of justice when it came to villains, but people also looked up to him. Extras cheered for him in the streets as he exploded past mid-battle. Children ran up to him on patrol and asked him to sign their books, their photos, their Dynamight merch. On one memorable occasion, that he may or may not have saved on his computer, a national news channel ran a live clip from a disaster site, a villain attack turned rescue mission after a building collapsed. The soundbite was only thirty seconds, a close up of a pale, dusty woman with a shallow cut on her brow. The splash of crimson and her bloodshot blue eyes were the only spots of color on her, everything else washed out in white plaster and cement dust, tear tracks carving grooves down her cheeks. 

But the smile on her face could have lit up goddamn Tokyo. 

“Dynamight saved us,” the woman had said to the news reporter, her voice full of awe and tears. “I-I got stuck under some debris, but I heard the moment Dynamight arrived, and I just knew we were safe. The battle was over a minute later, and then he just… pulled me out of the wreckage. He pulled us all out. He’s… the greatest hero I’ve ever seen.” 

That was a nice stroke to his ego. And the dazed woman had been right. He had pulled everyone out of that building, and not a single person died that day, which only confirmed what he already knew: 

Katsuki Bakugo was the best of the best. Deku might have been the better show pony, but Dynamight was an undefeated hero, fierce, fearless, ferocious. 

Except right now… he was fucking scared out of his mind. 

This couldn’t be happening. 

“What?” he snarled at the extra in the white coat standing before him. 

The man flinched and visibly recoiled, shuffling back a step and partially ducking behind his tablet device. When he spoke again, he’d raised his voice an entire fucking octave. 

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” the doctor stammered, but then he seemed to regain his composure and lowered his voice a little. “I… I wish I had better news for you, Dynamight, but…” 

He trailed off and swallowed, the jut of his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the thin skin of his throat. 

“But what?” Bakugo spat, something like magma roiling in his veins, pops of heat crackling against his palms like splatters of hot oil from a stove. 

“B-But this… can’t come as a complete shock to you,” the doctor said as he glanced back at his tablet. “Other physicians before myself must have warned you of the risks.” 

The risks. Bakugo bared his teeth in a silent snarl. What did this fucking extra, with his soft hands and softer body, know about risks? The heat in his palms grew until he could see their red-hot glow out of the corner of his eye. 

“Well, who and how much do I gotta pay to fix it?” Bakugo demanded as he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“That depends,” the doctor hedged and adjusted the square black glasses perched on his stupid face. “There are a variety of aid types—” 

“I don’t want fuckin’ support gear or aids,” Bakugo sneered. “I want mine fixed.” 

Now, the doctor’s face grew pitying. “I’m afraid that’s just not possible, given a number of factors, most importantly your current occupation.” 

“My current occupation?” the hero seethed, teeth bared again like a wounded dog, a cornered wolf, snapping at the world. “Are you fucking KIDDING—” 

A hint of fear sparked in the doctor’s eyes, but he suddenly raised a hand, palm out in the universal symbol for stop. “Dynamight, sir, I know this is distressing, but there are other sick patients in these walls, so please refrain from using your quirk.” 

“I’m not usin’ shit,” Bakugo snapped, but then the doctor’s eyes flicked downward, and Bakugo followed them to his hands, wreathed in sparks and flares of flames, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. 

The breath stuttered in Bakugo’s lungs. 

He hadn’t even felt himself call upon his quirk. 

Even worse… he hadn’t heard it when he did. 

He dropped his hands quickly, shoving them back in his pockets. Bile rose in his throat, but he washed it down with blood as he bit through his tongue. 

“There has to be… something,” he gritted out, curling his hands into fists in their confines. “A healer—” 

“Healers are rarer than you think,” the doctor sighed and shook his head. “And what’s more, they’re usually specific and limited. Their abilities are tied to blood types or restricted to relatives or even limbs. One nurse here can only heal femur bones.” 

“Bullshit they’re rare, I’ve met at least two goddamn healers just this month,” Bakugo spat. “These paramedics—” 

“And how strong where they?” the doctor cut him off again, raising an eyebrow. “You said paramedics, so I’m going to assume their talents mostly lie in the superficial and basic: triage, stopping the bleeding, knitting skin back together, etc.” 

“What’s your fucking point?” He was this close to punching the asshole right in the glasses. 

“My point is the inner workings of your ear are much more delicate than a broken rib or lacerated arm,” the doctor said in a really condescending tone that Bakugo did not appreciate. “But let’s say you do find a healer specific enough and skilled enough to restore the hearing you have already lost without damaging anything else in the process. What then? I don’t imagine Japan’s Number Two Hero retiring less than ten years after his debut and hanging up his quirk.” 

Bakugo scowled, heart kick-starting in his chest, his gut tying itself in a knot. 

No. No, that wasn’t possible. Katsuki Bakugo was a hero, the best of the best. It was all he’d ever wanted, and he would be damned if it was taken from him. 

The doctor must have seen as much on the blond’s face because he sighed and adjusted his glasses again. “Exactly. Which means you’re just going to keep destroying your ears again and again, and even if say Recovery Girl was still alive, the repetitive healing sessions would destroy your own body’s healing factor, and after a while, you would still lose you’re hearing.” 

“Tch.” Bakugo looked away and gritted his teeth so hard they ached. 

The doctor sighed. “You’re already at moderate hearing loss, Dynamight, so while we do still have some options, they are limited. Honestly… I’m surprised you didn’t come in sooner.” 

He should have. He fucking should have. He’d been noticing little things for years, but he just brushed it off, yelled at Deku to speak the fuck up and stop mumbling, told himself his phone must be a piece of shit and that’s why he didn’t hear a call or message. The low persistent ringing he’d been experiencing since UA was harder to write off, but after a while, it was also easier to ignore. 

Then, on his last mission, Bakugo was shoving some weak ass villain at a couple of cops. The battle had lasted less than five minutes, and he was still itching for a fight, his quirk burning just beneath the surface of his skin, like embers waiting to explode back into flame. In the next moment, a hand had suddenly clamped down on his shoulder from behind, and he’d reacted out of reflex, flipping his attacker over his shoulder and nearly blasting them in the gut for good measure. 

“Whoa! Fuck, dude, it’s me!” Kirishima had yelped, his skin rippling and hardening in an instant. Wide, red eyes gaped up at him, and Japan’s Number Three Hero even looked a little worried. “Didn’t you hear me? I called your name like five times.” 

Bakugo had dropped Red Riot like he was on fire. No. No, Dynamight hadn’t heard his patrol partner. In fact, all he could hear in the moment was the muted wailing of sirens, the low murmur of shouting extras, and the blood roaring in his head. 

Now, two days later he was standing in front of a doctor who was telling him there was nothing more they could do. 

But that was fucking unacceptable. He couldn’t lose his hearing. What kind of shitty hero would he be if he couldn’t hear where the villains were in battle or where stupid extras in need of saving were in rescue situations? 

He wouldn’t be a hero at all, just a fucking liability. 

Bakugo tried to imagine having to retire, to hang up his hero costume, to leave Shitty Hair in charge of their joint agency. What would he do? He’d wanted, and planned, to be a hero since he was five years old. He had no other skills, not really. It wasn’t like he could work a damn desk job. Well, UA might throw him a bone, offer him a pity faculty position. 

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth. 

“What… are my options?” he asked haltingly as he snapped his eyes up and locked gazes with the doctor. “You said I still had some.” 

The man in the white coat blinked in surprise, but then he straightened up and tapped at his tablet. “Currently, you have a few options, but you’d receive the best outcome if we did them all together. First, we can get you fitted for some hearing aids for you to wear while you are off duty. They would significantly increase your hearing capacity in your normal day-to-day life.” 

Bakugo felt his face pull into a scowl. “Off duty? I need them while I’m on duty!” 

“If you wear them while using your quirk, you’ll ruin the rest of your hearing in one blow,” the doctor said with a straight face. “Hearing aids amplify sounds. Amplifying your explosions is the last thing we want.” 

“Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do then?” the hero snapped, heat flaring through his body with a supernova. 

“Since I assume you’re going to continue your hero work, I would recommend contacting a support gear company.” The doctor made a note on his tablet. “We’ll email you the contact information for several companies the hospital has connections with, and once you chose one, we can send them your file. There are numerous noise-cancelling devices out there, but given your situation, you will probably need to collaborate with them for something custom. The goal is to having something to protect your ears-- a helmet, headphones, anything really—while you are using your quirk. Between such a device and the hearing aids, I hope we can preserve what’s left of your hearing and maybe give you a little bit back. But I will warn you… you’re hearing will never be as it was. You should know that now.” 

You’re hearing will never be as it was. 

You’re hearing will never be as it was. 

You’re hearing will never be as it was. 

The words cycloned through Bakugo’s head, round and round and round, destroying every other thought in their path. He felt detached from himself, the doctor’s voice fizzling out into a muffled drone. His vision seemed to narrow and darken, like he was viewing the world at the end of a very long and dark tunnel. One minute, he was standing there in that examine room, and then he blinked and was on the street, people rushing past him like a river unbothered by the boulder in its current. 

He glanced down at his hand, at the paperwork for his follow up appointment and his fitting for the hearing aids. Heat squirmed under his skin, in his veins, like something living, something that wanted to get out. 

Bakugo bared his teeth, crumpled the paper in his fist, and let the heat rush through his body, down through his arm, and into his hand. He didn’t hear the crackle, but he saw the flares of light, trapped between his palm and the paperwork like fireflies. 

Then he opened his hand, and he watched the wind catch the ash and carry if off down the street, out of sight. 

He needed a fucking drink. 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Several hours later, Bakugo stumbled out of his usual dive bar, the taste of whisky still burning a hole through the back of his throat. The night was colder than he anticipated, colder than it should be for the beginning of autumn, and he grumbled and cursed as he hunched against the wind. He squinted at his phone, debating on whether to call a car, but in the end it was too much trouble. He was less than a half an hour’s walk from his apartment, and it was late, so he wouldn’t have to worry about extras coming up to him for photos or goddamn autographs. 

Besides, the whisky hadn’t helped to quench the heat writhing through his veins, in fact the alcohol only made it worse. Bakugo felt restless, all pins and needles and ants, so maybe the brisk walk would burn off some of that energy. 

Decided, Bakugo turned in the direction of home and began the long, stumbling journey through the midnight streets. 

Time passed as sluggishly as his feet, which he made sure to stare down at so he didn’t trip over them. Like he anticipated, he passed no one on the sidewalks, and few cars rumbled past him. It wasn’t surprising, this neighborhood was mostly shops that closed by sundown and a few residences. The dive bar he’d left was a holdover from past decades when this side of town was rougher, but Bakugo suspected the old man who owned the joint would live on for at least another decade, if only to spite the development companies that kept trying to buy him out. The ornery bastard was half the reason Bakugo loved that bar, the other half being their decent whisky and usually empty stools. 

“Shit,” he mumbled as he suddenly slipped, tittering on the edge of the curb. 

He shook his head and managed to regain his balance, but when he took another step, he wobbled again. 

“Come on, you drunk idiot,” he hissed at himself as he stumbled once more. 

Except… he’d been standing still that time. 

“Hah?” Bakugo squinted down at his feet. 

The pebbles around his shoes rattled and jumped. He didn’t think he was that drunk, but he slapped his cheek with a bit of heat to his palm. The snap of warmth and pain woke him up a little, but when he glanced back down at the ground, everything was still moving. 

“What the fu—” 

Then the road undulated under his feet like a living thing, and the shockwave hit him a moment later. 

Bakugo barked a curse as he was bucked several feet into the air, twin explosions blooming from his palms so he could right himself and land on his feet. He snapped his head up as he skidded to a stop, and the breath stilled in his lungs. 

Up ahead, a man stood in the middle of the intersection, staring down the road to Bakugo’s left. Black rubble and goo floated around him like asteroids trapped in a planet’s orbit, and even from a distance, Bakugo could see the crazed smile on the man’s pale, black-streaked face. 

A moment later, several heroes lunged out from around the corner and barreled straight for the villain, only to be blasted backwards as the villain flung out his hands and commanded the black debris and goo to slam into the idiots. 

The villain threw back his head and seemed to laugh maniacally. Bakugo couldn’t hear it, but that didn’t matter. Lava was starting to boil in his veins, burning off the last of the whisky, and Dynamight felt an equally crazed smile stretch across his mouth. 

This idiot had chosen the wrong road to fuck up tonight. 

Heat condensed in his palms like collapsing stars, and then he was exploding forward, the taste of ozone and nitroglycerin on his tongue. 

Within moments, Bakugo was able to determine the villain’s quirk revolved around asphalt. The bastard was able to pull large chunks of it out of the road and then liquify parts of them until they were scalding and sticky. 

The other heroes—whoever they were, Bakugo didn’t even care to check—struggled to evade the villain’s attacks, but evasion wasn’t Dynamight’s style. He came at the bastard head on, exploding every rock and tar puddle in his way. 

Of course, asphalt was flammable, so flames were flaring up all around the street now, but Bakugo wasn’t stupid enough to get burned. If the other heroes were, that was on them. 

Dynamight was here to get the job done. 

“Come here, ya sonvabitch,” Bakugo snarled as he blasted apart a chunk of asphalt aimed for his head. 

The villain shrieked out something high-pitched that Bakugo didn’t catch, and then the fucker was swinging out his arm, a blob of black tar following the arc. 

Bakugo let out a controlled burst toward his feet and backflipped through the air, crunching down on the roof of a parked car. He could see some of the other heroes waving at him from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying over the wailing of the car alarm below him. 

The villain’s sneer was a white slash on his black, goo-streaked face, and Bakugo bared his teeth back in an expression halfway between a feral grin and a beast’s snarl. He could feel the heat crackling along his palms as he contemplated his next move, but then the villain shouted something, and all the asphalt floating in the air rocketed back towards him like the fucker was a magnet. 

As Bakugo watched, the debris and goo coalesced into a singular shape, liquifying and hardening in turns until a giant black arm the size of a semi was hovering over the road. The fingers wiggled in a jaunty little wave as the villain shouted something again that was lost to the car’s still wailing alarm, and then the giant hand curled into a fist and dropped down on Bakugo like the hammer of some god. 

He exploded out of the way and up into the air right before the fist smashed into the car he’d been standing on, and the siren cut out with a muffled crunch. 

Bakugo had barely landed before the arm was shooting out again, but this time it wasn’t aimed for him. 

A stupid fucking extra had stumbled out of one of the buildings and stood gaping like a goddamn moron on the sidewalk. Several of the on-scene heroes rushed forward, but the hand swatted them aside like annoying flies. The idiot civilian was still just standing there, though, and Bakugo found himself airborne before he could even process the thought. 

“Run!” he roared as he reached the extra and shoved him out of the way, but an instant later, he felt stony fingers wrap around his torso and squeeze. 

Bakugo wheezed out a curse as the giant hand lifted him into the sky, the pressure around his ribs increasing with every second. The asphalt was hot in some places, too, scalding the skin of his left arm where it was pinned against his hip. He wrenched his right arm around and tried to aim at the wrist of the asphalt appendage, but the angle was off, and the few chunks he was able to blast were quickly replaced by more rubble and boiling tar. 

“Fuck!” Bakugo screamed as the fist clenched down around him. His ribs strained, his lungs unable to expand, pain licking at him like the flames flickering in his peripherals. 

Distantly, he heard the villain’s laughter below him, and as the arm swayed to the side, Bakugo realized he was right above the bastard. His vision swam, his ribs screaming, his arm burning, but Bakugo gritted his teeth as he aimed his right palm down. He concentrated every ounce of his quirk into his hand until it glowed white-hot, and the asphalt around him began to liquefy again. 

The villain’s eyes widened as he realized what the hero was doing, and the fucker wildly swung out his arm in a last-ditch effort. The giant asphalt limb responded in kind, but Bakugo unleashed his quirk right before the arm flung him through the air. 

A massive explosion rocked the street an instant later, and the subsequent shockwave slammed into his back and propelled him through a window. 

He felt the impact and pain as he struck the glass, and then… 

Nothing. 

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

“Ouch, fuck!” you cursed as your pricked yourself for the millionth time. 

A red drop of blood beaded up on the pad of your index finger, and you scowled before you sucked the smarting appendage into your mouth. It was more of a reflex than anything, since by the time you pulled your finger out, the pinprick of a wound was already healed. Healing such a small injury would usually barely even register to you, but the clock above your desk was inching closer and closer to midnight, and you’d been up since 6am. You also skipped dinner so you could finish altering the dress you were currently working on, which didn’t help your energy levels, but you were just a few stitches away from completing your task, so you hunched back over and powered through the next five minutes. 

When you were finally done, you sat back in your chair with a sigh and threw down your needle and thread. The sewing table before you swam and doubled as your vision struggled to focus on something, and you rubbed at your tired, burning eyes. You always tried to work reasonable hours, have a healthy work-life balance, but somehow you always found yourself slaving away into the dark hours of the night. You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t your fault. You’d lived here less than a year, so you didn’t know many people beyond your few neighbors and the old ladies who frequented your alterations shop. 

You were also trying very hard to keep your grandparents’ business afloat. 

Your grandfather had been a tailor, your grandmother a seamstress. They’d opened a shop together over fifty years ago, and if your parents hadn’t moved to America before you were born, you were sure you father would have taken over the family business. In the end, though, after your grandparents passed, you were the one to take up the needle and pull up your roots. You’d always loved making your own clothes, and you’d always felt… disconnected in America. Nothing had ever felt… right, no matter how many jobs you hopped around to. The US had been the only home you’d ever known, but when you and your parents spoke Japanese together, it had made something ache deep in the center of you, something you couldn’t name or place. 

So, when your father said he was taking a trip to the homeland to sell his parents’ shop, you’d gone with him and somehow convinced him to sign everything over to you. Which was more than just a little insane. Your prior work history had been in food service and clothing retail, and your degree was in linguistics for fuck’s sake. You had no idea how to run a business, let alone in another country. Thankfully, you spoke Japanese fluently, so that had been one less hurtle to overcome, but everything else had been a dramatic learning curve. Getting to know the new city, figuring out the currency, hell even navigating the vastly different social norms of Japanese culture was daunting, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have numerous fumbles along the way. 

It, everything, had definitely taken some getting used to. 

Now, a year later, things were just starting to really look up. You had used most of the money your grandparents left you to renovate the shop, get new equipment, and fix the upstairs apartment you lived in. About two dozen loyal customers helped to pay your bills and keep you afloat, and one-to-two new customers walked into your shop each month just on word of mouth. You weren’t rich by any means, but you weren’t struggling like you did in America. You felt… happy here, if a little tired. Fulfilled. 

That might also have had something to do with your little… side business. 

You bit your lip as your eyes shot to your window guiltily, like someone was watching you. You weren’t doing anything wrong—right now, anyways—but for the last six months, it’s been hard to shake off your paranoia. 

And your guilt. Which was ridiculous. You weren’t hurting anyone. In fact, you were doing the exact opposite. 

But it was still against the law. Here in Japan, at least. 

That was another thing that took some getting used to. The Japanese government had strict laws on quirk usage, unlike in America where everything was about individualistic rights. In Japan, only heroes were given almost free reign, but even they had some restrictions on when and how they could use their powers. 

For the rest of the Japanese populace, using quirks in day-to-day life, without official permission, was frowned upon at best and illegal at worst. 

Because of your specific quirk, you leaned more toward the illegal side of things. 

Healing quirks were rare. That’s what you’d been told all your life. Your mother’s quirk was the ability to lower fevers by somehow using her own body to regulate the temperature. Nothing super special or powerful, but she’d gone on to become a pediatric nurse, so she had used her quirk to its fullest and made a long, happy career for herself. 

When you were young and your quirk manifested, you thought you would follow in your mother’s footsteps. 

But as a teenager, you’d come to some hard realizations about yourself. 

One, you weren’t strong enough to be a hero. You’d tried to get into a hero course in the States, several in fact. One course rejected you solely on your application, and then you failed two entrance exams. It had been a devastating blow to your youthful dreams and self-esteem, but your mother encouraged you, said being a hero wasn’t the only way to use your quirk for good. 

So, you turned your focus to medicine… and quickly discovered that wasn’t right for you, either. Your mother hated when you said this but… you just weren’t smart enough. You had tried, really did, but everything was such a struggle, like Sisyphus slogging uphill through the mud. It just didn’t click for you like it did for your mom. You also hated to admit it, but you were a little squeamish. You were fine with small stuff, cuts and bruises, broken fingers, but once you had to dissect a large pig in an anatomy class, and the smell and weight of the pig’s slippery organs in your hands made your lunch rise up into the back of your throat. You somehow managed to make it through the class, but directly after you ran to the bathroom and emptied your own guts into the toilet. 

With your dreams of being a hero and doctor dashed, you’d been a little aimless in college, taking random courses to fill your time and see if anything spoke to you. Then, during an 8am linguistics lecture you signed up for on a whim, something ignited inside you. Languages spoke to you like science and medicine never did. So, you’d changed your major to linguistics, minored in Japanese to feel closer to your parents, and took ever other language credit you could get your hands on. In between classes, you’d taken up sewing again while you listened to your audio assignments. It was just something to keep your hands busy at first, a skill your father taught you as a child until you abandoned it, but then your roommates complimented your work and started asking you to hem their jeans or take in their skirts. They offered to pay you, but you always declined, saying it was no trouble, you liked the work, and you liked being able to help. 

At some point, you realized that was all you had ever wanted to do. Help people. And if you couldn’t save them as a hero, you would find some other way to make yourself useful. 

So, you studied languages in the hopes of being able to help others communicate. You altered your friends’ clothes and made them small things like a monogrammed scarf or mittens. And, occasionally, you healed your roommates’ hangovers or food poisoning, stopped the bleeding when they cut their fingers making dinner, pushing through their pain to make them whole again. It wasn’t a lot, nothing really, but it was something, and it made you feel purposeful. 

When you moved to Japan, you mourned the loss of being able to use your quirk on others, but you shoved the thought aside and focused on your work and the shop and figuring out how to settle down in your first home on your own. 

Then, six months after you took over the shop, Mrs. Kojima, a little old lady in her seventies, had brought in her grandchildren’s uniforms to be patched and altered. She’d known your grandparents for many years, so she was always kind and had a story to share with you about your father in his youth or the gorgeous dresses your grandmother used to make. You always looked forward to Mrs. Kojima’s visits, and she always had a way of making you feel younger than you were, but not in a bad way. She just made you feel… nostalgic and safe, like you were listening to your late grandma talk over the phone. 

This was probably why, when Mrs. Kojima slipped and fell in front of your counter, you reacted without thinking. The old lady barely had time to hit the floor and cry out before you were hovering over her, a green aura illuminating your hands. Her pain hit you a moment later, like a heated slap to the face, a bone-deep ache in your leg, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through the discomfort. Then you moved your fingers over to the hip Mrs. Kojima was clutching, and a moment later you felt the drain as your energy siphoned into the elderly woman’s body. Thankfully, it had only been a fracture, not a full break, so you barely even felt the difference in your strength, but as Mrs. Kojima gaped up at you, realization struck you like a freight train. 

You had used your quirk, without a license, without permission, hell without the consent of Mrs. Kojima. Healing quirks were illegal for a reason, so many things could go wrong, and you weren’t properly trained. Your breathing hitched as panic seized your heart, squeezing like a vise, and your entire world had just begun to crash down around your ears when Mrs. Kojima sat up and threw her arms around you. 

“Thank you,” she’d sniffled into your hair in Japanese. “Thank you so much.” 

After the initial shock wore off, you had helped Mrs. Kojima into a chair, and she’d continued to thank you over and over again, saying how money was tight and she would have hated to be a burden to her children with hospital bills and a long recovery. She talked about how a lot of her elderly friends were in similar positions, dealing with perpetual aches and pains but having no way to pay for treatment or seek relief. 

The sadness in her face had twisted something in your chest, an ache you were all too familiar with. It was the one you felt after you failed the hero course entrance exams. The ache you felt when you realized you could never be a doctor. The ache of being helpless in the face of suffering. 

Your mouth had opened without your permission, and you told Mrs. Kojima that you would help her, and her friends, whenever they needed it. The elderly Japanese woman tried to wave you off, saying she didn’t want to get you in any trouble, but you had just smiled and said, “I’m fine with making a little good trouble.” 

You didn’t know where your courage had come from, but you let it carry you past your fears and doubts. 

So, for the last six months, Mrs. Kojima had brought all of her friends, and sometimes their children and grandchildren, to you when they were in need of healing. They always brought dresses or pants or blouses for you to fix as a cover, and you did do alterations work for them, but you also eased flaring arthritis, cataracts, fevers, and scrapped knees in the backroom. You refused to take payment for these secret services, it just felt wrong, but the little old ladies somehow always snuck large “tips” into your register when you weren’t looking. 

Mrs. Kojima and every one of her friends and family members swore to their ancestors to keep your secret, and you trusted them, but you still couldn’t help proverbially looking over your shoulder, holding your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the police to barge in and take you away. 

It hadn’t happened yet, but the worry of it kept you up most nights, which was maybe another reason why you threw yourself into your work until you were so tired you just passed out. 

You sighed again as you stretched and felt your back pop, releasing some of the tension in your spine. Glancing at the clock, you saw it was just past midnight, and you winced. You had to be up at five tomorrow—today, now—because Mr. Akane wanted to come in early before you opened the shop. His bad knee was giving him trouble again, an old injury he’d obtained as a boy. You were unable to fully reconstruct the joint—that took more strength and stamina than you currently possessed—but you were able to soothe his pain for weeks at a time, which he was immensely grateful for. He always brought you fresh fish when he came by, “gifts” he’d emphasized when you reminded him you didn’t take payment, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t appreciate the gesture. You weren’t exactly hurting for money, but you also didn’t normally splurge on fish caught just that morning, and you told yourself you deserved the small treat. Besides, the protein helped boost your energy and stamina levels, which meant you could heal more people, so really Mr. Akane was merely investing in his future treatments. 

Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food, and you dragged yourself out of your chair before picking your way across your messy apartment to the kitchen. The apartment wasn’t very large, one large space for kitchen, dining, and living room, with one small bedroom and one bathroom down a hallway to the right when you walked in the front door. But it had been your grandparent’s home for many years before they bought a larger house after having your father, and it sat right above the shop, so you never had to worry about running late for work.

Bolts of fabric, some client pieces, and a few of your own personal sewing projects were strewn over every available surface of the main room, but you had the cleared path through the chaos memorized, so you were tossing leftovers in the microwave barely thirty seconds later. The warmed-up curry and rice—another “gift” from Mrs. Kojima—tasted as good as it had the last several days, and you hummed as the spiced meat slid down your throat and settled in your belly. After the first bite, your hunger seemed to hit you in full force, and you scarfed down every last bite in a matter of minutes. When you were done, the minor headache that had been pulsing behind your eyes abated, and you yawned as you rinsed off the dishes. 

You set the damp plate on the edge of the counter as you reached for a towel, but then a sudden tremor, followed by a loud boom, seemed to shake the building, and the plate tittered on the counter’s edge for a moment before it crashed to the floor. 

“Fuck!” you gasped as you jumped back and away from the ceramic shards, but another tremor-boom combo had you stumbling, and you scrambled to grab the back of the couch so you didn’t fall on your ass. 

Your wide eyes took in the broken plate scattered at your feet before they jumped to the window on the opposite side of the room. The night sky was dark beyond, cut only by the dim street light just beyond the window’s view. You held your breath as your heart hammered in your ears, the hair on the back of your neck prickling, sweat slicking your palms. 

What the fuck was that? Your first thought was earthquake—you hadn’t experienced one yet, but you knew they were common in Japan—but then you remembered the booms. 

Maybe… maybe an electrical box blew? But no, the lights were still working. A car crash? 

Then another boom vibrated you down to your very bones, and you fell to one knee as the breath hitched in your lungs. 

That sounded… closer. 

With your heart in your throat, you half scrambled, half crawled the last few feet to your window, and you peeked your head over the sill just as a flash off white-hot light lit up the night sky. 

“Shit!” You squinted your eyes against the glare as you leaned back from the window, but then you saw a shadow streak through the air before it crashed into a car just at the edge of your peripherals. 

You had the distant thought that Mr. Takeyoshi’s vehicle was very obviously totaled before you realized the thing that had crashed into the car was a person. 

Your jaw gaped open as a hero pulled himself from the wreckage and shook his head groggily. The shadows—only broken by more flares of light as more explosions and fire seemed to erupt along the street—made it difficult to tell how injured the hero was. You didn’t recognize their yellow and teal costume, but you saw patches of blood along the hero’s bulky frame, and bile burned at the back of your teeth. 

Holy shit. This wasn’t an accident. It was a villain attack. 

Just as you had the thought, another explosion rattled your windows, making your ears ring, and you snapped your head to the side to see a man standing in the middle of the road about half a block down. 

The man—villain, you realized quickly—swung his arms around like a conductor of an orchestra, but his instruments seemed to be the black rocks and liquid swirling around him. The debris glistened like an oil slick in the light of the flames, and as you watched, the villain shouted something and slashed his arm through the air. 

Then a figure suddenly exploded onto the scene, lunging out from the shadows in a flare of white-hot light. It moved too fast for you to track, but the villain swung his arm again, and rocks and viscous black goo shot toward the figure still in mid-air. 

A futile scream of warning caught in your throat, but then the figure seemed to explode and backflip through the air, landing on his feet but crushing the roof of a car beneath his boots. The wailing of the car’s alarm split the air, and you clenched your teeth until they ached. 

The flames illuminated this new man’s face, a snarl of white teeth against the flames and smoke, but only the barest hint of recognition flared through you before everything exploded into chaos again. Another shout from the villain had all the rocks and black slime streaking back towards him, and you watched in horror as a stony black arm fifty feet long formed above the ruined street. 

You knew you should be running, trying to find cover, calling the police, but you were glued there, on your knees before the window, you fingers digging grooves into the sill. 

The next fifteen seconds seemed to simultaneously happen in slow motion and at hyper speed. 

The giant rocky hand wiggled its fingers before it curled into a fist and slammed down on the wailing car and the man atop it. 

The man—hero, you distantly thought, although your chaotic thoughts still couldn’t place him—launched up into the air with another explosion that rattled your windows, the car alarm cutting off as the vehicle was crushed an instant later. 

The blond skidded into a landing half a dozen yards away, but then you suddenly saw Mr. Takeyoshi standing on the street, a ghostly apparition framed by smoke and flames. 

You blinked, and the giant hand shot toward Mr. Takeyoshi, batting away several more heroes who tried to intervene. 

Then the explosive hero was just there, pushing Mr. Takeyoshi out of the way, right before the hand wrapped around him. 

You could hear the hero’s anguished scream through your window as he was crushed in the fist’s grip, and the sound hit you right in the solar plexus, knocking the breath out of you, bruising your insides, the pain settling into the familiar ache of being helpless in the face of suffering. 

You watched uselessly as the hero was lifted up into the sky, struggling, setting off explosions left and right. Then the massive arm seemed to pause in the middle of the road, right above the villain, and your eyes locked onto the hero, his pale hair and skin stark against the black, rocky hand that held him trapped. 

In the next instant, a white light, like a star going supernova, bloomed to life around the hero, illuminating the white slash of his snarling teeth before it became too bright for you to take. You slammed your eyes shut against the burning light, and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end, like the moment before lightning struck, as you dropped to the floor below your window. 

Then the world exploded, the building shaking to its foundations, right before the window burst into a million shards of glass.

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Love Conquers All

Part 2

Zuko x Male Reader

Word Count: 1643

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The next morning Y/n followed Zuko back down to the kid's campsite. Y/n was half expecting them to have packed up and left, but he was happily proven wrong when they got down there.

The kids were sitting in a half circle, clearly waiting for the two of them to arrive. From the looks of things, they might actually be more open to talking to them today.

A look at the water tribe girl told Y/n that she still had a serious distrust for them that would be annoying to get past.

They approached the group. Y/n held back. He would be on guard for anything they might pull that could hurt Zuko.

"Um, so, you guys have something you want to say?"

Y/n guessed that if you couldn't count on the Avatar to break the ice then the world was doomed.

"Yes. I'm here because I know now that my destiny is to teach the Avatar firebending. I also wanted to say that I'm deeply sorry for all of my actions that have caused you pain or worry. I know that my apology doesn't fix everything, but I hope that it can help pave the way to better relations between us."

Y/n had missed this version of Zuko. He had been buried under so much pain and anguish, and had been desperately trying not to let anyone see it. It was good to have him acting more like himself again, but no amount of royal training was going to remove his awkward manner.

"Why should we believe anything you have to say? You've been chasing us around the world trying to capture Aang and kill us! We shouldn't even be sitting here listening to you!"

That girl was really sticking with her hard-done-by feelings. Y/n was going to have to keep a close eye on her around Zuko.

"Actually," the water tribe boy interjected, "I had a question about that."

He stared into the remains of their fire for a second before looking up at the still standing duo.

"Why didn't you just use your airbending to capture Aang? I mean, it looked like you were holding your own against Katara pretty well. When we first met you could have wiped the floor with us. So why?"

Y/n was surprised. The Water Tribe boy was more perceptive than he had given him credit for.

"It's a secret."

Bless Zuko for trying to take the question for him. Y/n sent a grateful smile his way.

"The Fire Lord has decreed that any airbenders are to be executed. If any are found, it's a death sentence."

Y/n looked around at the appalled faces of the kids. Finally it looked like they were starting to realise what they were involved in.

"How can you side with monsters like that?!"

Y/n turned furious eyes on the opinionated girl.

"I don't side with them! I side with Zuko."

"That isn't any better! So you're saying that if he decided to go back to the Fire Nation tomorrow you would just go with him?"

She was on her feet and flinging her words at him much the same way she had been with water the day before.

She turned back to her friends.

"This is why we can't trust them! I know you want to have someone else who's an airbender Aang, but he won't do the right thing if Zuko doesn't."

She spat Zuko's name like it was a bad word.

Aang turned big eyes on them.

"Would you really go back to them?"

"No."

"You just said----"

"I won't go back to them because Zuko won't. And I stand with him."

Y/n chanced a glance at Zuko only to find him already looking at him. He had that soft smile on his face that had been missing for years. Y/n was so glad that it was back. They reached for each other at the same time, fingers coming together and intertwining easily, familiarly.

There was a surprised intake of breath from the kids in front of them.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Was Y/n's eloquent response.

"Well, that doesn't make it okay to do the wrong thing when you know it's wrong."

She was still lecturing them, but the wind had clearly gone out of her sails.

Y/n managed to pull his eyes away from Zuko and look back at the group.

"We really are on your side this time."

Y/n stilled. The air had shifted in the way that it did when it was trying to warn him of something, becoming electrified. He spun around, scanning their surroundings, trying to locate the problem. He spotted the man up on the cliff just in time to bring his sword up and deflect the wave of energy that he sent at them.

Y/n growled. His timing had been off, resulting in his returned wave being sent off in a different direction.

"You all need to get out of here! If he keeps this up, the whole temple is going to come down."

"Y/n, if you can keep him busy, we can try to find a way to get rid of him!"

The Water Tribe boy was apparently their leader, was Y/n's distracted thought as he stood waiting for the man's next barrage.

If they got out of this alive he was going to smack Zuko upside the head for ever hiring the assassin.

That was probably something that the group of kids didn't need to know about, Y/n thought absently.

He was almost too focused on the long distance fight between the two of them to notice Zuko attempting to distract the assassin from where he stood nearly beside him. When had he gotten over there?

Something whizzed by Y/n's ear and he was so distracted by the thought of Zuko doing something so monumentally stupid as to antagonise the most ruthless assassin in the Fire Nation from a matter of feet away, that he didn't even sense it until he felt the air move by him.

He watched as the boomerang flew true and struck the assassin in the center of his third eye. He felt the world slow down as he saw the man draw in a breath for another wave of energy, but instead of it being sent to where they were standing, it exploded in his face and in the air all around him.

Y/n's heart stopped when the whole side of the temple crumbled and fell. Zuko had still been up there.

His sword fell with a clatter that was muted in his ringing ears. He was over by the side of the temple before he even thought about it, scrambling to find Zuko. If he was gone then that was it.

Y/n felt a thought settle in the front of my mind. He felt a sickening sinking feeling in his stomach, but there was no denying it.

He turned empty eyes on the group who were all celebrating their lucky escape. It was their fault.

He stood at the edge of the temple, watching them, feeling the wind caress him. It was whispering something to him, but he still couldn't hear anything over the adrenaline still coursing through his body.

He took a step toward them, reaching for his sword but coming up empty. His gaze narrowed in on it, lying on the floor back where he had been standing.

He was shaking, he realised as he tried to take another step but found himself on his knees instead.

The wind was growing around him as he fell forward onto his hands. He could feel himself falling apart, but he couldn't seem to pull himself back together. He had always had Zuko for that, but the stupid self-sacrificing idiot had gone and gotten himself blown off the side of the temple.

There was a groan from the ledge Y/n was nearest to. The wind died suddenly.

Y/n turned his tear streaked face sharply in it's direction.

He recognised that voice.

Then he was scrambling once again for the ledge, and grabbing hold of Zuko's arm and pulling with everything he had until he had his idiot firmly in his arms and far enough away from the edge.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and held Zuko in his still shaking arms. Y/n hoped Zuko was comfortable because he was never letting him go again.

-----------

They had gathered around the fire that someone had restarted to sort out something for lunch.

Y/n had the feeling that his melt down hadn't gone unnoticed by at least one member of the group. When he had gone over to pick up his sword from where he had dropped it, the little blind girl had watched him with her unseeing eyes. He had just sheathed it and walked back over to Zuko's side, but she hadn't stopped watching him ever since.

Y/n was sitting by Zuko's side, too strung out from earlier to be properly on guard, but he was sure that since they had seen him in action they might be a little hesitant to attack so openly.

Once everyone had a bowl of food Sokka cleared his throat. He had an uncomfortable look on his face.

"So."

Y/n waited silently. This was Zuko's destiny, it was up to him to earn his place with the group.

"You know why we're here. Our reasons haven't changed. I think, it comes down to this. Can you trust us?"

"Look," Sokka started, "We don't fully trust you, but I think that's fair. I mean you chased us around the world, but we also saw what you did for us back there. You could have died trying to help. So we're willing to give you a chance. But just one."

Zuko's face lit up with his happiness. It was a sight that Y/n knew he would always enjoy.

"You won't regret this. I promise!"

[gyusbambi]

humph; han seojun (pt 4)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5

click here for humph masterlist!

story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?

note: humph! is a story inspired by pentagon’s “humph! / 접근금지”. originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 3.8k

to claim that the cupid-team is surprised to witness han seojun getting along with his long term frenemy would be an absolute understatement. in fact, they seem completely and utterly dumbfounded as they watch you both laugh at a joke seojun pulled in the middle of the bus ride back home. needless to say, the childhood friends tease each other now and then like they’re used to it, this time without hurting any feelings. all of these observations, including the fact that you decided to sit next to each other in the bus, lead to several assumptions and without you knowing, rumors start to develop. 

for whatever reason, neither you nor seojun are aware of the gossip regarding both of you. perhaps it’s thanks to kim chorong, who’s apparently really skilled at being inconspicuous. 

_

it’s been one day since you arrived home and you find yourself sleeping in till two pm on a saturday. 

seriously, you should fix your chaotic sleeping schedule.

when you finally leave your room to get some food into your stomach, dressed in your favorite hoodie and sweatpants, your mum and juyeong are already eating lunch. like expected, they give you a quick judging look without interrupting their conversation. while you’re putting some rice in a bowl they talk about juyeong’s crush on some girl. soon their conversation moves to something related to seojun, and that's when you suddenly pay attention instead of playing with the cold food on your plate.

"y/n, is seojun’s mother in a better condition now?"

instantly you look up to react to your mum’s question. instead of looking at you, she puts more vegetables on juyeong’s table,

"it's been a few days since i last visited her, maybe i should do it again soon. i really hope she gets better."

"what are you talking about?"

"seojun hyung's mum is in hospital." juyeong answers, his mouth stuffed with food while pushing the vegetables away with a scrunched face.

"what?"

"hasn't he told you about his mum? i thought you guys would tell each other everything." my mum questioned with a small pout forming on her lips, finally meeting your worried eyes.

"they broke up.", your annoying brother fails the attempt to whisper.

"we're not together!"

displeased, you hiss at your brother, voice getting higher.

"you guys act like a married couple sometimes. it's annoying."

"shut up!"

"both of you stop now." your mother sighs while her hands move in the air in attempt to stop you from attacking your own brother.

"seojun’s mum is seriously sick and i'm going to visit her tomorrow morning. y/n, maybe you should do too? or talk to him a little since he's probably not doing so well."

"i will."

feeling upset that you’re just finding out about seojun’s mother’s condition, you can’t stop thinking about it for the whole day. besides that, you are worried and consider visiting them the next day.

even though their house is quite near to yours, you have to go through the dangerous part of your quarter. as you make your way to the han’s, your hand moves to your right pocket to grab the pocketknife, which seojun gifted you in your freshman year of high school. for defense reasons, he said.

"you need to be careful when you're walking down this street. here, have this."

however, instead of seeing a group of dangerous men, you spot han seojun himself, walking towards your direction with hands in his pocket. thinking of a casual way of greeting him, you clear your throat before taking a few steps forwards in order to greet him,

"hey!”

"hey, what are you doing here?"

surprised to see you in this area, seojun raises his eyebrows.

"well, i actually wanted to visit- what the hell happened to your face?"

rapidly, you interrupt yourself when the boy is finally close enough for you to spot the multiple bruises on his pale skin. this causes you take a few steps forward and reach for his cheek instantly, worry written all over your face.

he looks horrible. bruises all over his face, lip bleeding, knuckles visibly red.

seojun catches glimpse of your worried eyes and feels embarrassed for you to find him at this state. instead of making the attempt to explain the situation, he grabs your hand which rests on his cheek. the touch of your warm and soft hand causes a pressure building in this chest. seojun doesn’t dare to take his eyes off of yours.

suddenly your cheeks feel like they’re turning into the shade of a tomato. besides that, your heart starts acting all weird when you catch glimpse of his intense eyes.

"what happened?" you question once again, this time with even more concern.

"it's not important-"

"did you get into a fight?"

"that bastard lee seungyong was getting on my nerves again, it's not important." he sighs after running his hand through his hair.

"alright. come on, we need to clean those bruises before they get worse." you mutter after grabbing his right arm and pulling him towards your house.

_

seojun hisses with a painful expression as you attempt to clean the awful wounds on his cheeks. with a concentrated look crossing over your face, you focus on the terrible cut. however, you impatiently drop your hand on your lap when seojun can’t seem to stop moving, an annoyed sigh followed after. 

“could you stop moving the whole time? i’m trying to do something here.”,

positioning yourself closer to the boy sitting on the edge of your bed, you’re ready to treat his wounds for the third time. seojun only grins playfully despite the painful bruises,

“look at you acting like a doctor.”

ignoring his comment, you raise your hand once again to reach for his chin. fingers brushing on his skin, you are able to focus. this time seojun doesn’t flinch. quite the contrary, he’s like frozen on spot. the only thing he seems to be able to focus on are your features. 

nothing but silence dominates your room as you decide to clean the cut on his bottom lip. you fingers brushing over his soft lip, eyes completely focused on them, the poor boy’s heart is about to explode in front of you. he internally thanks to god that you don’t notice his chest rising up and down or his ears turning into a darker shade of red. breath taken away, his eyes linger on your lips, blinking frequently.

yet, his relief only lasts for a couple seconds when the silence eventually makes you look up to seojun, only to find him already staring at you, eyes gazing at your lips.

not aware of your slightly surprised eyes, he continues staring. clearly, your bodies are almost attached to each other. not to mention, you leaned in a little earlier, grip on his shoulder to prevent him from moving. the young boy practically prays that you won’t hear his heart racing in his chest.

aren’t you even a little nervous? it almost makes him annoyed how the closeness doesn’t seem to bother you at all.

little does he know that you feel the exact same way. in fact, you’re so bothered by the butterflies in your stomach that you suddenly wish that he would just continue making dumb jokes or rude comments.

pulling your hand away from his shoulder in a swift move, you blink. still, you’re not able to look away which seems so stupid and unbelievably odd. 

seconds after you catch glimpse of his hand getting closer to yours but that isn’t enough for you to look away.

why would someone look attractive with a beaten face? that doesn't make any sense.

seeing him in this state, bruises, messy hair, intense gaze, flushed face, makes you want to hug him, ask him what was wrong, tell him you were here for him.

however, right when you think he is going to say something or reach for your hand and hold it...

"guess who just ate two big delicious menus-"

juyeong.

the second your brother lays eyes on seojun sitting super close to you, his eyes widen in horror.

"o-oh adult business, i get it. i'll leave now. bye, hyung!"

yet, of course, before leaving your room he doesn’t miss the chance to make gagging noises.

"and y/n, sadly, there wasn't enough food for you."

his fake pout makes you want to throw your slipper at him but you just close your eyes for a second and exhale, trying to remain calm.

seojun only chuckles with amusement.

"mum! y/n and seojun hyung are a couple again. can she move out now?"

juyeong’s annoying voice can be heard all the way too my room. embarrassed, you glance at seojun, who is obviously trying to hold in his laugh.

"i'm sorry for my brother."

"you don't need to be."

"a-anyways, are you better now? i mean your bruises?" you stammer while pointing at his face, wanting to ignore what just happened.

"yeah, a lot better. thank you."

he trails off, eyes darting through the room,

"i-i should probably leave now."

right, your stupid self forgot to ask him about his mum.

"i heard about your mum. i hope she's doing better?"

“thankfully, she is. it's a little difficult for us but we’re going through this."

“hopefully she’ll feel better soon. i’m sure you’re taking good care of her,”

you’re always like that. caring about others more than yourself.

“if you need anything, i’m here.”

he smiles genuinely, “thank you.“

and that's when he leaves.

_

the sun shines outside the next day. but instead of going out and enjoying the nice weather like other normal people, you lay on your bed while thinking about the previous day. strangely, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way seojun made you feel. 

why did your heart race? why were you left speechless?

in the corner of your mind, there’s been an explanation for your weird feelings for your childhood friend. although, you’ve always tried to ignore it and distract yourself.

but now, thinking about all the times seojun made your heart flutter, it just made sense.

you like him.

“no!”

with widen eyes you swiftly stand up, not believing yourself.

it couldn’t be, right? everyone feels this way to their friend at some point of their friendship, no?

but the thing is: you’ve been feeling like this the whole time. 

letting yourself fall on your bed, you scream into your pillow.

you like han seojun.

and there’s no way your former frenemy likes you back.

_

it’s another school morning as you walk into your class. this time however, you’re nervous to enter the room. after all, you’ll have to be around the one person you now feel nervous talking to. what if he notices your odd behavior. praying that he won’t approach you in a way that made your heart flutter, you eventually enter the classroom.

however, it seems like the universe is making fun of you when you’re met with something hundred times worse the moment you step into the room. instantly, all eyes land on you and all you hear are cheers and screams from your classmates,

“congratulations on dating, y/n and seojun!”

“you’re so cute together!”

“y/n and seojun sitting on a tree!”

at the sight of chorong and his group wearing t-shirts with your shipname printed on them, your eyes widen in horror. they think you’re dating han seojun?!

“why didn’t you tell me anything? i’m your close friend after all!”

sua pouts, hitting your arm playfully while your eyes are still glued on the ridiculous t-shirts.

“is it true, y/n?”,

from the corner of your eye you see soojin giving you a teasing smile.

“listen, guys. there has been a huge misunderstanding.”,

when you can finally focus on your friends, who surround you with curious looks, han seojun enters the classroom, completely unaware of what’s happening right now.

the young boy frowns at chorong after setting his bag on his table. yet soon his confused face changes to a shocked one, as he eventually notices the t-shirts, everyone congratulating him with cheerful laughter.

turning his head to you, he notices your helpless look while you tilt your head to the side. totally surprised by everything, seojun has no clue how to act at the beginning. 

finally, both of you manage to stand in front of the class, facing your classmates as they continue asking several questions,

“since when have you been dating?”

“no way! did anything happen during the school trip?”

“tell us the truth!”

frustrated, you move your hands in the air, trying to speak with a loud tone so that everyone can understand you,

“i don’t know how you came up with this rumor but seojun and me are only friends, okay?”

hearing your statement, everyone groans at the same time, not believing you at all,

“it’s so obvious! just tell us the truth.”

letting out a sigh, you turn your head to face seojun with an annoyed look,

“could you at least say something?”

however, seojun only raises his eyebrows before taking his hands out of his pockets,

“would you hate it that much?”

his sentence makes you frown and multiple questions appear in your head. not quite understanding his point, you continue staring at him with furrowed eyebrows before he finally slams his hand on the desk in front of him, catching everyone’s attention,

“you guys better stop spreading all those rumors around. she’s only my friend...,”

disappointed, many students groan before going back to their seats while others still don’t seem to believe seojun and shake their heads in denial.

seojun bends down to your height so that his face is only a few inches apart from yours before whispering with one eyebrow raised,

“...right?”

nervously you blink, sadness starting to grow inside you after hearing his words. of course, he only considers you as his friend. there’s no way he would see you as something more.

_

friday nights are always the same for you: watching your current favorite tv show while snacking on whatever you have at home. whereas other people from your grade probably club somewhere.

that night your phone rings and an unknown number appears on the screen. thinking it’s a stupid prank, you pick it up with an annoyed sigh.

"hello?"

"hello. is this y/n?"

"yes. who am i talking to?"

there is a short silence before the unknown person starts talking again,

"look, i work at this club near your neighborhood and this dude randomly passed out here. i found your number on his phone so i thought of calling you. can you maybe come and get him? he's seriously wasted a– dude, what the hell, stop spilling all the drinks!"

"i'm sorry but who are you talking about?"

you heard the unknown man mumble before answering, "seojung? seung- seojun?"

"han seojun?"

"yes! that's his name."

a short silence takes over when you sit up in shock.

"so, are you coming?"

you sigh before replying, "i need the adress.”

_

the moment you enter that club, you want to return to your house. many people dance on the dance floor, totally wasted. everyone is pressing their bodies against each other's. the loud music makes you feel even more uncomfortable. you look around and let out a relieved sigh when you find a bartender with a phone on his hand.

"hello, i'm here for seojun. the guy who–"

"hey, finally! he's right here."

you follow the man to the other side of the club, where people are sitting on the couches and drinks were sold every minute. it doesn’t take you long to spot seojun sitting on the couch. his eyes are closed but his head is swinging from left to right. you can’t believe your eyes. you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen him in a state like this ever before.

"don't worry. your boyfriend didn't hook up with anyone." the bartender next to you said.

"he's not my boyfriend."

"what are you then?"

"i'm his..." you trail off before answering,

"neighbor! i’m his neighbor!"

seojun shouldn't know that you came to pick him up at this time.

without waiting any longer, you help seojun getting up and wrap his arm around your shoulder. before leaving the club, the bartender reaches you seojun’s phone and makes sure to call a taxi. after thanking him you leave with seojun’s heavy body.

while waiting for the taxi to arrive, seojun keeps rambling stupid things you can’t understand. it’s getting harder for you to stand with him by yourself every minute, so you decide to sit on the bench with him, which is a couple steps away from the bus station.

you let out an exhausted sigh after sitting down and then turn your head towards him. suddenly you grab his face and make him look at you. he smiles like an idiot after you brush his bangs away from his forehead. his cheeks are extremely red, his lips pouting slightly and his eyes struggling not to close. your cold hands hold his warm, soft cheeks while you analyze his expressions. you have to admit: seojun looks cute.

after a few seconds he suddenly frowns. he narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side slightly, looks you up and down considerately before asking,

"who are you?"

“you don't know who i am?"

"hmmm..." he rubs his chin carefully, acting like he’s solving a mystery,

"no."

"good."

"you're telling me that that's fine?" seojun giggles and covers his mouth.

"yes, absolutely."

"alright! i'm han seojun. who are you?" he stretches his hand out for you to shake.

"does that matter?”

“of course! who are you, young lady?”

"that's not important right now. what matters is that you're extremely drunk. what were you doing here?"

"you're rude!" he pouts and crosses his arms,

"you won't even tell me your name."

"why are you acting so childish?"

"i-i don't know."

"never mind. that's fine."

"really?!"

"yeah, you're good."

you notice how his lips form a small smile,

"you're nice and then rude and then nice and then- you remind me of someone you know?"

yes, that's you.

"my friend y/n."

"oh, really?" you sarcastically laugh.

"yeah! she's like you. but prettier. like so much prettier. she’s pretty."

"that doesn't even make sense."

"huh?" seojun asks confused.

oh no, why do you have to be so cute.

"actually, it’s hard for me to be her friend." suddenly he’s all sad,

"sometimes i cross the line and don’t know my limits. but she's so dumb and stubborn!"

"and why is that?” frowning, you cross your arms in front of your chest, waiting for his response. 

he only sighs with tiredness, "never mind–"

and then he falls asleep on your shoulder.

_

finally you arrive at seojun’s house and fortunately all the lights are out. with his heavy body pressing to your small one, you struggle to carry him up the stairs. quietly, the door is opened by you before seojun falls into his bed. your head starts hurting, which makes you sit down next to him and massage your temples. however, you help seojun standing up and carry him to the bathroom carefully, in order to wash his face. he lets you take off his jacket and his shoes. finally he lays down on his back, with his face facing the ceiling.

"don't lie on your back." you demand.

"hm?" seojun’s eyes are firmly closed when he mutters with tiredness.

"lie on your side." you pull his body to the side, so that he could face you.

definitely, his facials expressions change. his lips are no longer pouted, his eyes extremely tired, his cheeks pale. from analyzing his face once again, you fail to notice him staring at you with his eyebrows drawn together. soon his confused expression changes to a sad one when you cover his body with his bed sheets.

"i'm sorry." seojun mutters suddenly. you expect him to continue, as he grabs both of your hands and slightly pulls you closer to him. a shiver goes down your spine.

"y/n, you deserve better."

he knows it’s you? 

"i know i treated badly but i need you."

his eyes are barely opened, his words barely understandable. your hands start shivering as his grip tightens.

"i-i should go."

"no! please stay here." he rambles drunkly.

you decide to stay a little longer, just until he would fall asleep and hopefully forget everything that has happened this night.

“i mi..."

you aren’t able to understand his quiet mumbling, so you lean in a little,

“what did you say?"

“i miss y/n."

silence takes over the room before you finally reply,

“i missed you too, seojun-ah.”

your words make him open his eyes immediately. with a surprised face he tilts his head slightly and narrows his eyes,

"y/n?"

instead of saying anything, you hold his hand while he’s still questioning your identity. all of the sudden his hands leave yours to grab your face. without waiting too long he pulls your face closer to his. instantly, your eyes widen when you notice the small gap between your noses. intensively, he looks into your eyes. so many emotions can be read from his look, yet you can’t figure out what he‘s feeling exactly. they have the most beautiful brown color you have ever seen. so deep, that you could get lost in them. only seconds pass, but it still feels like you were staring at each other for an eternity. you can even feel his soft breath on your face, which causes your ears to turn a dark shade of crimson.

seojun then glances at your lips before looking back into your eyes again. without waiting any longer he presses your lips together, one hand holding your cheek while the other grabs your waist. you let out a small gasp, your eyes remain closed, your whole body frozen. is this really happening?

when you’re finally able to kiss him back and hold firmly into his shoulders, he tilts your head, deepening the kiss. you feel your heart beating thousand times faster, almost exploding in your chest, as his soft lips press against yours. your face is glowing when you eventually wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, unable to resist the warm feeling. without doubt, you are sure that you've never felt something like this before.

seojun slowly pulls back when he feels your fingers softly tugging at his hair, leaving a small gap between your lips. you feel his breath on your face when he hums something before his lips meet yours for the second time, not giving you enough time to open your eyes,

“hmm, strawberries.”

feeling his lips forming a small smile, your heart is about to explode in your chest. seojun was insanly drunk but clearly enjoys the taste of strawberry lip balm, brushing his thumb over your cheek softly.

soon you break the kiss only to find seojun falling asleep on his bed seconds later. not believing what just happened you stare at him, admiring his features before panic takes over you and you rush out of his house.

would he remember any of this tomorrow?

_

to be continued...

(p.s: sorry for making you wait for so long🥺)

[0097linersb]

Pink Lemonade

CHAPTER 3

Pairings: Jaemin x Renjun x Haechan x Jeno x Mark x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Humor (I guess), Slow burn af

Summary: The dreamies decide to spend some weeks at an Inn in the middle of the nature to relax and enjoy some outdoor adventures, far away from their crazy idol life. What they didn’t expect was the nice girl running said Inn.

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: hEy guys, I’m SO sorry for 1. taking so long for this shitty chapter and 2. I will no longer be tagging new people simply because I am so lost and I feel like I will miss half of the people who asked so I don’t want to make anyone feel forgotten or upset

THIS ISN’t PROOF READ I SUCK I KNOW I hate thIS STORY

☼  previous / next  ☼

The next morning you woke up before Jeno, you tried to silently sneak out to give him the chance of pretending nothing happened, in case he decided it had all been a drunken mistake and it should be forgotten. Your plan was proven kind of difficult with the whole having to untangle yourself from the man and unzipping the tent open situation, bright sun rays suddenly filling the space. You winced at the light and tried to quickly close the door back up, startled by a groaning sleepy Jeno who confusedly sat up and rubbed his eyes, “What’s going on?”

“Sorry, I was just trying to get out,” You apologized.

“Oh, ok. What time is it?”

“I have no idea, my phone died.”

The man searched for his phone among the covers and sighed when he realized he had run out of battery too. You awkwardly stared at each other, not really knowing if one of you should bring up what had happened or just casually move on.

“I don’t think the others are up yet,” You tried to start a conversation before the tension could swallow you up.

“Probably not. I’m still sleepy though, could go for a morning nap,” He smiled before lying back down, you were thankful he was trying to end the awkwardness too.

“I love morning naps.”

“Come join?” He asked with hopeful eyes and you nodded before practically throwing yourself back into his side, careful to not touch him in case he wasn’t interested and you didn’t want to impose yourself. You turned your back to Jeno and closed your eyes, ready to fall asleep in seconds, but was surprised when you felt the man’s arm silently wrapping around your waist and his chest pressing against your back before lazily whispering a “Good night” against the back of your neck. You smiled contently to yourself, hearing Jeno’s breathing get heavier and slower as sleep took over him, following his steps soon after.

The second time you woke up, was to a screaming Jisung. You and Jeno both jumped awake, startled, before running outside thinking there was a snake or something dangerous like that. The two of you were soon staring at the young boy judgingly, looking between him and the cockroach on the floor.

“Jisung, it’s dead,” Jeno sighed, trying to not get annoyed at the young man.

“It’s still moving!” He whined, still refusing to go down from the camping chair.

“They do that,” You sighed too, giving up on trying to make sense of the situation and approaching the boy with your hand out to help him down. “C’mon, help me to put the things back in the truck so we can go back to the Inn.”

Jisung reluctantly did as you said and Jeno started to wake up the others, everyone folded their tents and picked up the trash in silence, too tired and hungover to play around. If looked from afar, one might have you mistaken for extras on a zombie movie.

As you arrived back at the Inn, everyone crawled into their rooms without muttering a single word. You took advantage of the moment to take a shower since you were still in your bikins and Jaemin’s sweater, feeling completely disgusting after a day (mostly a night) of sweating. You were deep in your nirvana state of mind, enjoying the hot water relaxing your muscles and finally cleaning your hair of all that lake water, when you heard a bang at the door. You jumped in shock and looked over at the door instantly.

“Whoever is there, please let me in, I really need to pee!” Jisung screamed, fist still knocking on the door in urgency.

“You can use the bathroom downstairs!”

“Cockroaches,” He squealed before letting out a loud whine. “Please, I’m going to explode.”

You lightly groaned at the inconvenience before quickly shutting the water down and wrapping your towel around you, opening the door and signaling to Jisung that the bathroom was all his. He banged the door shut and you leaned against the hallway wall, waiting to return to your very good shower that you were missing very much after experiencing the chilly wind outside.

“Is there anything wrong?” Jaemin asked after opening his door, seeming like he had just woken up from a deep slumber.

You tried to act casually, like you weren’t standing around in just a towel, “Everything’s awesome.”

Jaemin had his mouth open to start saying something else when another door opened, an annoyed Haechan appearing behind it, “Who’s yelling and why?”

“Jisung needed to use the bathroom,” You explained, feeling way to exposed and embarrassed to elaborate.

“Can’t a guy ever sleep in peace?” Renjun’s suddenly appeared from his room, whining at his friends and rubbing at his eyes sleepily.

“Ok, can everyone please stay inside their rooms for the next 30 seconds?!” You requested loudly in frustration, kind of laughing internally at the way Jeno was midway through opening his door before muttering a sorry and closing it back in super speed.

“Yeah, sorry,” Renjun apologized before going back to his nap, but you didn’t miss the way he gave you a once-over first.

“Enjoy your shower,” Jaemin smiled at you before copying his friend.

Haechan simply stood there staring at you and you looked at him in expectation and a ting of annoyance. The man smirked at you before winking, “Looking good.”

“Yeah, and very much naked, so if you could like, just go inside for a minute,” You politely requested.

“But that’s very much what I’d like to see,” He playfully flirted with a low voice so no one would hear, slowly approaching you. He gave you no time to react as he looked down at your chest, right hand suddenly pinching your hardened nipple and you gasped in surprise, “Cold?”

He looked up at you with a teasing look and you nodded with furrowed eyebrows, confused as to what he was playing. Haechan whispered a “cute” against your ear before returning to his room with a smirk, right on time for Jisung to open the door, “Thank you so much! I’m sorry for interrupting your shower. I think I had the content of two whole wine bottles in my bladder.”

“It’s ok,” You assured him absently, still bothered by Haechan’s antics. You honestly had thought he was all bark and no bite, you two have been playfully flirting since day one and you had guessed it was just part of your friendship dynamic considering you both always laughed about it.

Well, you could do nothing about it except from seeing where life would take you two.

            _____________________________________________

After showering, you prepared some yogurt bowls with fruits and granola for breakfast, figuring you could all have a late lunch. Jaemin came downstairs after an hour and helped you out, stopping you from murdering another poor orange.

“Do you think everyone will be up for an activity today?” You asked, hoping they would opt for a more relaxing afternoon, as you were pretty much tired and hungover yourself.

Jaemin softly laughed, “If the activity is dying on the floor of the living room, yes.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Slept late?” He raised an eyebrow at you and you almost dropped the knife you were holding.

Does he know?

“I went to bed right after you did, red wine is just not my friend,” You awkwardly laughed, trying to calm your mind down. He couldn’t have heard anything over the loud singing yesterday and Jeno probably didn’t tell him.

Jaemin said nothing to that and you both enjoyed a semi-comfortable silence until he offered, “Want me to teach you how to peel an orange?”

“Theoretically speaking I know how to do it, I just can’t make my hands actually work,” You laughed, but moved closer so he could show you anyways.

“I’ll teach you an easier way then, it’s not ideal but it’s better than losing half of the orange,” He teased and you glared at him. “You just have to cut it in half like this, and then like this. Actually you can cut it as many times as you want to. When they are in slices like this you can just use your fingers to pull the peel away.”

“Oh, I think I can do that,” You exclaimed in excitement, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Hey, do you by any chance have more of that pineapple cake?”

“Chenle finished it but I can go to town to buy some more when we’re done with this. You can come along if you want to, they have a lot of options.”

“That sounds great.”

The two of you managed to quickly finish decorating the bowl, even adding some pretty flowers Jaemin went out to pick on top of it. After placing it all in the fridge so it wouldn’t become a mess until the others woke up, you scribbled down a note letting them know you had gone to the city and would be right back before heading outside to the car.

“Can I drive?” Jaemin asked jokingly, knowing your car was very dear to you.

“If you crash it, you’re giving me that watch,” You rolled your eyes, throwing the keys at him, who looked surprised at your compliance but laughed excitedly when catching the keys. His watch was probably worth more than your car anyways.

You hesitantly climbed into the passenger seat and tried to not say anything as Jaemin left the property in reverse, you hated riding shotgun.

He did look kind of hot, though.  

“I know how to drive, you know? You don’t have to grip the handles so tight,” The man laughed once you were already on the road.

“I’m just not used to not being the one behind the wheel,” You apologized, forcing yourself to relax your hands on your lap so you wouldn’t offend a man’s driving’s skills. “Turn right on that street. Did you enjoy skiing?”

“I did, yesterday was just a fun day as a whole. You also looked really pretty in my sweater,” He looked at you softly and It took a lot of control for you to not melt into the seat.

“I’m giving it back as soon as I wash it, by the way. Thank you again for not letting me freeze.”

“Don’t worry. You can keep it, it looked better on you.”

“Jaemin, I know you’re trying to be a gentleman and all but that’s a Balenciaga swea-“

“And I’d like for you to have it.”

“I’m really living everyone’s fanfic’s dreams, aren’t I?” You giggled softly.

“Do you read those?” Jaemin chuckled.

“Of course. I live in the middle of nowhere, anything to pass the time. Follow that Sunny Mountain sign.”

“Ok. You should teach me how to find those, I’m curious as to what our fans write about us.”

“Uh, you really shouldn’t.”

“Dirty stuff?”

“Lots of it, probably.”

Jaemin laughed at that but said nothing more, deciding to pay attention to the road for once. You were distracted trying to find a cool Spotify playlist on your phone when you felt the man’s hand on your thigh, he didn’t move it and he didn’t look at you, just staring straight ahead with a casual demeanor like it was something you did all the time. You said nothing about it, just enjoyed the touch and followed his lead.

As you arrived at the city, you directed Jaemin around until you were parking right in front of the little traditional bakery.

“Good morning, Mary. Looking beautiful as always,” You complimented the old lady behind the counter, who you have known since you were a little girl. “Please tell me you made some pineapple cake.”

“My dear, if I didn’t I would run out of business,” Mary laughed. “I’ll wrap one up for you.”

“Thank you. Jaem, do you want to try something else?” You asked, pointing to the display in front of you full of a variety of cakes, which this region was famous for.  “This is a banana one, it’s so good. The wine one is also tasty.”

Jaemin shivered at the word wine and you laughed because honestly, same.

“The banana one sounds good,” He agreed.

“Mary, I’ll take one half banana, half peach.”

The boy looked at you surprised that you remembered his favorite fruit and you just smiled at him, showing you were also paying attention.

“On it. Is that your boyfriend? I’ve been praying for you to find someone to keep you company in that big old house for ages,” The lady started, taking the cakes from the displays to cut them for you.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” You joked, winking at Jaemin who gave you a teasing smile back. “But unfortunately he’s just a guest at the Inn.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate, but it’s a pleasure to meet you anyways. Maybe it’s better this way, my Gus would be jealous.”

You laughed in joy at the mention of your childhood summer friend, “How is he? I miss him!”

“He’s doing amazing,” She answered with a smile when talking about her grandson, placing the cakes’ halves on a plastic plate. “He just graduated last year, rented me a fancy dress and all.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that! I need to congratulate him. When he’s back in town, can you ask him to drop by the Inn really quickly? We’re having some internet problems as always.”

“Of course, dear. He will love that, I bet he’ll come around by the weekend. Here’s your cakes! I’ll put it on your account.”

Jaemin helped you getting one of the boxes from the balcony and you got the other.

“Thank you, Mary! Have a nice day!”

“You kids too!”

You carefully placed the cakes on the back seats, wrapping the seatbelts around it so they wouldn’t move during the transportation as Jaemin looked around, appreciating the view.

“The city is pretty cute, right?”

“It is, actually. Is that an ice cream place?”

“Kind of. But they do have an ice cream buffet.”

“That sounds awesome, can we go there?”

“I guess the cakes won’t go bad in the car if we’re quick.”

“They won’t, it’s kind of cold today.”

“Right? I thought I was sick or something,” You complained, pouting at the temperature change.

“Here, let’s go freeze,” Jaemin laughed, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders and leading you across the street.

                              ______________________________

You figured you liked Jaemin. As in, you really liked Jaemin. He was just so easy to talk to and a genuine funny caring guy – You didn’t see much of those anymore.

What was supposed to be a quick trip to the town turned into a 2 hour long tour around all the little spots the city had to offer, playfully taking photos of each other like you were in a romantic movie or something.  When you finally went back to the Inn, your heart was swollen and your cheeks were hurting from smiling too much.

“Be right back my ass,” Haechan welcomed you with a grunt.

“We took long but we brought cake,” You pinched his pouting face.

“Ok, I forgive you.”

“Are you guys hungry?”

“For cake? Yes,” Jisung excitedly exclaimed.

“I meant for real food, it’s past lunch time.”

“We actually just ate breakfast, Jeno is still sleeping,” Renjun informed.

“It’s ok, I’ll cook today,” Jaemin messed with your hair and you glared at him.

“No, you won’t. You’re a guest here.”

“And I’m a great cook, so get your ass back in bed and I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“That’s rude of you, Na Jaemin,” You joked.

“Learning from the best.”

You glared at him but decided to accept your fate. After your nap with Jeno and your shower, you were not sleepy anymore, so you decided to invite the rest to sunbathe in the lower deck by the lake. Haechan and Mark were happy to join and the three of you sprawled around under the blue sky after changing into your bathing suits. You were struggling to get sunscreen on your back and Mark silently asked for the tube in your hand, doing It for you as Haechan blabbed about League of Legends – It was really hard to hide the chills across your skin when you were wearing basically no clothes.

After Mark got over being awkward because of your exposed skin, he was actually one of the most fun people to be around that you had ever hung out with. He literally laughed and got excited over everything you and Haechan said and it made you feel special, you definitely understood his charms now. Also, with him being from Canada and all, you two had a lot more in common than you had imagined, which was revitalizing.

Soon enough, both boys started bickering over something and you just closed your eyes and tried to drift off, this was supposed to be relaxing time. But then again, it was hard to put relaxing and Haechan in the same sentence.

After what seemed like ten minutes of the men next to you arguing, you suddenly heard your name and opened your eyes begrudgingly with a “Huh?”

“Help us. Who’s right?” Haechan asked.

“I ain’t even listening, I’m sorry.”

“Haechan over here seems to think he has a bigger chance with you than I do,” Mark smirked and you chocked around air. What kind of demon possessed Mark Lee’s body?

“Of course I do, don’t I?” It was Haechan’s turn to smirk at you and you just stared between them totally lost. They were arguing about song lyrics a few minutes ago, what the fuck happened? “So? Who’s right?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” Haechan lifted an eyebrow at you in a challenging way.

“Let her speak,” Mark cut him off and you felt goosebumps up your body once again at his strict tone. Damn, that was definitely not expected from Mark Lee.

“This is very unprofessional,” You muttered in shock, not really knowing what to say.

“Oh, c’mon. You think I didn’t hear your little show with Jeno the other night?” Mark laughed darkly and you shrank into yourself.

“What? What happened with Jeno?” Haechan asked confused.

“Nothing,” You quickly inform, trying to end that conversation.

Mark tsks and softly put your hair behind your ear, looking at you with endearing eyes, “Our pretty Y/N had some fun times with Jeno in their tent, didn’t she? Tell Haechan.”

You gulped and turned to Haechan, only nodding in shame because you were not about to admit you sucked his friend out loud. The boy’s eyes only widened and you could see Mark’s smirk from the corner of your eyes, what a wicked man.

“Guess none of us have a chance, then. Since Jeno got to you first,” Mark played and you briskly shook your head, feeling how you were already pulsing between your legs. The man raised an eyebrow at your reaction, like it wasn’t what he had planned, “Oh?”

“Please,” Was all that you managed to let out. Too embarrassed to elaborate.

“Kiss her,” He ordered and you noticed he was talking to Haechan, who smiled widely before bending down to capture your lips.

His kiss was playful like his personality, his hand found its place behind your neck and he lightly nibbled on your bottom lip with his teeth, not allowing you to deepen the kiss like you wanted to. When you whined in frustration, you felt his smirk against your lips before he harshly grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, his tongue finally against yours.

Well, this was not how you expected your day to turn out.

You were so focused on how good it felt to melt into Haechan, that you jumped in shock when you felt Mark’s fingers playing with your bikini bottoms.

“Look how wet she it, Haechan,” He commented like he was hypnotized by the view and you two broke the kiss so he could look at where his friend was staring. Mark’s middle finger started to lightly circle your clit over the fabric and you moaned, hiding your face in shame. You were probably about to have sex. No, not sex. A threesome. With your guests!!!

“Y/N.”

“What?” You groaned.

“Y/N!”

You uncovered your eyes annoyed only to find Haechan and Mark staring at you weirdly, sitting up on their own beach towels like well-behaved boys.

“Did I fall asleep?” You asked confused.

“Yeah, we thought you were having a nightmare so we decided to wake you up,” Mark explained softly and you gulped.

“Thank you, it was horrible,” You lied, heart beating fast and chest heaving.

Mark and Haechan went back to arguing while you tried to recompose yourself, but as soon as Haechan shot you a knowing smirk, you quickly got up and left, figuring you could play cards with Renjun or something.

                                            ____________________________________

Jaemin didn’t lie when he said he was a good cook, and not only that, but he was also an organized worker, washing and cleaning everything right after using it. What a dreamy man. You were still too bothered over having a weird wet dream with your guests, who were right beside you, to think much about how amazing Jaemin was.

After everyone had lunch (and you decided to sit far far away from your sunbathing partners, safely cuddled between Chenle and Jisung at the end of the table), you washed all the dishes left while Jeno dried them, thankful that you two managed to not let things go south after your little encounter.

The Inn still had no internet so there was nothing much you could do with everyone being tired, so like Jaemin predicted, you all sprawled around the living room’s floor and played some games. After a few hours, you started getting tired of playing and turned the Tv on, trying to find the least terrible channel the Tv’s antenna could pick up, settling on a game show that got everyone pretty excited. Somehow you ended lying on Jaemin’s chest and you noticed Jeno giving you a look but couldn’t quite catch what he meant with it. He seemed normal with you after it, so you decided to let it go, realizing you were only overthinking things.

For dinner, you all had some leftovers from lunch and lots of cake. You had spent so many hours talking that you felt like you have known these boys since forever, or at least you wanted to. There was just not a moment around them when you weren’t laughing or smiling, and besides the obvious sexual tension moments, it felt really comfortable to be around them. Of course they could be annoying and inconvenient at times, they were men after all, but it was not hard to get over that.

Surprisingly enough, even after sleeping until way past noon, the boys were still tired and went to bed early with the promise of fun adventures for the next day. You and Renjun stayed back in the balcony talking about life and art, looking at the stars and drinking a glass of wine. It was nice sharing your deep thoughts with someone who matched your intensity and excitement, Renjun was indeed an artist and you loved experiencing the universe with him for a night.

When it was around 1 in the morning, the two of you said goodnight with a soft smile, knowing you two now shared a bond.

Entering your room and turning the lights on, you were surprised to find Jeno playing with his phone on your bed.

“Hey,” You offered confused.

He gave you an eye smile before dropping his phone on the bed, “Hey.”

“So, you’re in my room…”

“Just wanted to ask if I could sleep with you, it’s nice.”

“Oh, ok. Yeah, I’d like that. Let me just change,” You agreed and laughed at the way Jeno covered his eyes when you grabbed on the hem of your shirt and pulled it off, “I think we’re way past that, Jeno Lee.”

“Sorry, it’s automatic,” He explained as he dropped his hands back on the bed, watching you silently as you changed into your pajamas. You sleepily climbed into bed next to the man, both of you lying on your sides and staring at each other. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you,” You softly breathed out. This seemed all too familiar.

He delicately pressed his lips against yours, hand grabbing your cheek so his thumb could soothingly caress your cheek. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the soft touches, reciprocating the kiss with the same fluttering intensity. Jeno simply did that for a few minutes before breaking away from you and smiling, “Sorry, I just really wanted to kiss you.”

“It’s ok,” You giggled, content and in peace.

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[professorspork]

superhell fic prompt: RB+J reunite with Yang

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

Let no one ever doubt that Yang can be a champion whiner when she wants to be.

She was on her best behavior before, listening intently as Weiss caught her up on just how badly the fight with Cinder went, and brainstorming up next steps (get to the Tree; send up a flare with Ember Celica because if there were Grimm they needed to worry about, they would have run into some by now; wait). Only there wasn’t much to talk about after that that wasn’t wildly depressing, and they’d fallen into an uneasy silence-- Yang watching Weiss hunch tighter and tighter in on herself with every step.

So she’d filled the quiet: complaining about how they’d be there by now if only she still had Bumblebee; bitching about how unfair it is that they can’t seem to get their Semblances to work; grumbling over how she has no idea how long they’ve been walking because the light never seems to change here. And Weiss snaps back, of course, but Yang can tell the annoyance is feigned-- the more irritated Weiss’s answers are, the more relaxed her body language becomes. Normalcy’s thin on the ground, here; Yang will provide it anywhere she can.

Except-- 

-- except also something on the ground here, it seems-- 

-- is Gambol Shroud.

“Oh,” Yang breathes, in a tone of voice she’s not entirely sure she’s ever produced before. Weiss runs ahead and drops to her knees, but hesitates when she goes to scoop up the weapon-- her hand hovering over it, shaking.

“I-- sorry. It’s not my-- you should--”

“You should give it back to her,” Yang says, keeping her distance and a soft smile on her face.

Weiss looks up at her with wide eyes. “But you--” 

“--didn’t have to see her fall. You did. And you-- you did really good, Weiss. You should give it back to her.” It seems a small concession to make, in the grand scheme of things. She’s going to have plenty of Blake, and soon. She knows it-- she’s sure of that down to her bones, now. So what is there to be possessive of? She waits until Weiss nods, and slips the katana through one of her scabbard loops. It’s not exactly meant to be carried that way, but whatever. It looks pretty badass. “C’mon,” she says, helping Weiss to her feet. “We’re close. I can feel it.”

Weiss roasts her mercilessly when it’s a good age and a half of walking before they even hit the tree’s roots (“Oh, are we close, Yang? Can you feel it?”), but they don’t come across any other surprises. When the roots start to twist and rise above them, Yang clambers up to a decent plateau and sets off two charges-- shooting them high into the air and watching them explode like fireworks. Yang smirks, tucking her arms behind her head as she prepares to settle in and wait--

-- and promptly slips and falls out of the tree when a trio of familiar voices happily cry “Yang?!” only seconds after the flare’s report.

(It’s not her fault, okay? She wasn’t expecting them to be this close, or together; wasn’t expecting Jaune to be down here at all; it’s whatever--)

By the time she’s picked herself up and dusted herself off, Ruby, Jaune and Blake have come into view, just across the clearing. 

“Ruby!” Weiss cries, sprinting towards them, and that’s-- she’s Yang’s sister, she should get dibs on first hug, what gives, only then Weiss actually throws a thumbs up behind her as she runs and that’s just-- that’s just rude, honestly, as if--

“Yang,” Blake says, close enough to touch, and when did that happen?

“Blake, I--”

She has no idea how that sentence was supposed to end. Luckily, Blake relieves her of the burden, busying her mouth and bringing her thoughts to a grinding halt by pulling her into a swift, determined kiss. Yang’s struck so dumb by the shock of it that for a moment she forgets to kiss back-- hands hanging limply at her sides as she tries to process the intent pressure of Blake’s lips against hers; the swell of body heat where they’re pressed together, chest to chest; the tender way Blake cradles her jaw, all fingertips, the way you touch something precious and fragile. Every muscle in Yang’s body relaxes in an instant-- at last, finally, thank you-- and a needy, wanting noise tears itself from her throat, entirely without her volition.

It’s possible she goes a bit overboard when she finally gets control of her limbs again, wrapping her arms around Blake’s sides and dipping her into the kind of kiss she’s only seen on the covers of Blake’s novels, but it’s hard to care about how it looks-- not when Blake’s laughing into her mouth, and Ruby’s wolf-whistling (Yang releases her hold on Blake for that, briefly, only because she has to prioritize flipping Ruby the bird) and has she mentioned that she’s kissing Blake Belladonna? 

She’s kissing Blake Belladonna.

She might never stop kissing Blake Belladonna.

Or, okay, maybe she will; her back kind of hurts holding this weird position so long. But when she pulls Blake back to standing, she suddenly registers wetness on her own cheeks, and she wouldn’t be surprised she’s crying only she’s-- she’s really pretty sure she’s not, so that means--

“Don’t cry,” she whispers, reaching up to brush the tears from Blake’s lashes. “If you cry I’m gonna cry, and--”

“I love you,” Blake breathes, and the words lay Yang out faster than any punch, knocking the wind right out of her lungs. The look on Blake’s face is beatific-- elated and adoring and thrilled. Like she’s proud of herself for being brave enough to say it; like she wasn’t sure she was going to know how. Only then the tears well up again; her voice hitches as she stutters: “I promised; I couldn’t get to you in time, you can’t-- I’ll follow you anywhere, I promised, I swear it, but you have to let me, I thought I lost you--”

This time it’s Yang’s turn to quiet Blake with a kiss, and she lets herself savor it. She clocks every sensation, every touch, every sigh, every brush of their lips. This isn’t about utility, or merely silencing Blake’s fears. It’s reassurance, and devotion, and a promise all its own: we’re okay. We can have this, now.

When she pulls back, she takes a deep breath, determined to find words that will mean as much as Blake’s just did, to make it clear just how much she feels--

-- only it’s a little hard to concentrate over how loudly Weiss is crying, a few yards away where Ruby and Jaune have her sandwiched between them.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to-- I just-- you did promise, all of you, you said you’d never leave my side and I was-- I was alone, I was the only one left, and I--”

Yang takes Blake’s hand, gratified when she gets an understanding squeeze and a nod in return-- to be continued. Whatever confessions of love Yang’s got scratching at the walls of her insides, they can wait a little longer; right now, they need to be with their team.

Together, they join the group huddle, saying nothing as collectively they abandon any attempts at soothing words and instead finally let themselves fall apart. Ruby all but crawls into Yang’s lap, and a thread of tension deep within Yang finally, finally relaxes, knowing that her sister is safe. Jaune cries loudest and hardest of all, and Yang buries a hand in his hair, wishing she could make it better. She knows what it feels like, to stab down and feel the life leave someone’s body, but that was-- she’d hated Adam. To have to do it to an ally, a friend, to have that responsibility on you, for someone you love--

--kill me, and I can make sure the power goes to you--

-- she shakes off the stubborn image of Raven’s scarlet eyes filling her vision and focuses on the people in her arms.

“Not to be super morbid, but maybe...” She pauses and chews on her words, wanting to make sure she says what she means to. “We might be a little past promises, now. All of us. I don’t know where we go from here, and the choices are only going to get harder. But-- we’ve always found our way back to each other before. Even here, and-- and I don’t even really know where here is. So maybe we can just... trust that. See where it takes us.”

She doesn’t realize she’s closed her eyes in a wince, unsure of how she’ll be received, until she cautiously squints them open again and sees half her universe staring back at her with nothing but love.

“I think that sounds good,” Blake says, 

but her eyes say so much more. 

[phoebe-delia]

could u write a drarry oneshot inspired by sweet creature of harry styles? :)

Hello Nonnie! I absolutely can. This is a great suggestion, I love this song for Drarry. I hope you enjoy it. Warnings: injury, drinking, attempted sexual assault that is VERY QUICKLY STOPPED and NOT H/D!!! Thank you to @apr1cots for the beta!

3 Times Harry Brought Draco Home...+1 Time Draco Brought Harry Home

1.

The first time, Harry found him in the cafe near their flat.

He sat down in the chair across from Draco, who glared at him over his cup of tea. "I thought I told you not to follow me."

"I waited three hours. I figured that would be enough time for you to come to your senses, but you didn't come back, so I got worried."

"I can handle myself, thanks."

"I know you can. But you didn't tell me where you went."

Draco's eyes flashed. "That was for a reason, you imbecile."

Harry shook his head. "Flatmates don't do that—disappear for three hours after a fight without saying where they’ve gone."

"I'm an adult. And you're not my father or my boyfriend, so back off."

"No, but I am your friend. And your flatmate. And I don't want to be worried sick for three hours when you fuck off to Merlin knows where because you're feeling pissy!" Harry snapped, letting his anger creep into his voice.

Draco sighed. He took a moment to sip his tea, and then he looked at Harry. "I'll tell you what. If we fight, and I don't return, send an owl, Floo or contact you in some way within six hours, you can send out a bloody search party."

Harry shook his head. “I will give you three hours.”

“Five”

“Three and a half.”

“Four and a half.”

“Four is my final offer.”

Draco scoffed. “Is that so? What are you going to do, show up with half the Auror department?”

Harry pursed his lips. “Not if I don’t have to. But I would.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Care to find out?”

“You’re mental.”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged. “Trouble is, I don’t care. Now, will you be here for a while, or are you coming home with me?”

“I suppose I'll go, but only since I've already finished my tea,” Draco said with another sigh, which Harry ignored as they both rose from their seats. While they walked to the Apparition point together, Harry replayed in his mind the flicker of emotion on Draco’s face when he said “home.”

2.

The second time, Harry’s glass nearly shattered in his hand from how firmly he was gripping it.

He ignored Hermione’s knowing gaze and Ron’s eye roll as he unabashedly stared daggers at the bloke practically groping Draco at the bar. Harry saw Draco’s eyes widen imperceptibly, noticed his smile falter and his cheekbone twitch.

Yes, he observed this from across the room. You get to know a bloke after living with him for almost a year; besides, Harry was very perceptive—constant vigilance and all that.

Speaking of being an Auror, Harry was pretty sure this prick was breaking some sort of public indecency laws by the way he was sliding his hand further and further up Draco’s leg. Draco gently pried the man’s hand from his thigh, only for the stranger to laugh and reach over again, gripping it even more firmly.

Harry didn’t think beyond getting up from his seat and striding toward the bar, quickening his pace when he saw Draco’s eyes widen in panic. He barely registered the look of horror on the stranger’s face when he grabbed the hand gripping Draco’s thigh and pinned the man face-down on the bar.

“He said no,” Harry said through clenched teeth, ignoring the man’s grunts and protests.

“We were just talking!” The man sputtered, his cheek pressed against the counter as he twisted and wriggled to get free.

Harry tightened his grip. “Conversation’s over. If I catch you trying to ‘talk’ to him again, I’ll make sure you have a nice chat with the Wizengamot about sexual assault. Now, apologize.”

“But—”

“Apologize!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”

Harry smirked. “Good.” He released the man’s arm and let him right himself. The man froze, looking between Harry and Draco expectantly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Leave. Now.”

The man nodded, scurrying out of the now silent bar, the bell attached to the door tinkling behind him.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Draco’s face was blank other than a raised eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not. But I am glad you’re okay. You are, right? He didn’t hurt you?” Harry’s chest tightened at the suggestion.

But Draco shook his head. “No, I’m fine. But I think that’s my sign to head home.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine to Floo.”

“I want to.”

“What about your friends?”

Harry cringed and turned back to face the table to see Ron and Hermione looking at him, expressions full of nausea and amusement, respectively. He held up a hand in a small wave. Hermione shook her head and smiled fondly.

Harry grinned and turned back to Draco. “They’ll be alright without me. C’mon, let’s go home. I’ll make us some tea, yeah?”

Draco hesitated at first, but he nodded. And if Harry let his hand linger lightly on Draco’s back when they headed toward the Floo, they could both chalk it up to a safety measure.

3.

The door to Pansy Parkinson’s flat swung open before Harry could knock.

She took one look at him and rolled her eyes. “Could you have taken any longer to get here?”

Harry bristled. “I was—”

“Don’t care. Get in here, he’s on my couch.” She turned and walked away purposefully, and Harry trailed behind her.

“I thought you two were just going for drinks?”

Pansy sighed. “We were, but then we came back here for a few more, and he got into my tequila when my back was turned.” She shook her head. “Tequila is his one weakness—well,” she smirked. “One of them, anyway.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth to respond when a shout sounded from the living room.

He looked over to see Draco sprawled across the couch, an empty glass in one hand and the other nearly touching the floor, his leather-clad legs spread wide.

Draco grinned at Harry. “Harrryyy!!! Come to join the party?”

“He’s come to end it, more like,” Pansy crossed her arms. “It’s time for you to go home, love.”

Draco let out a high, keening whine and burrowed himself further into the couch. “Don’ wanna. Tired. Stay here.”

“No, Draco, we’ve got to go home,” Harry walked up to the couch. His breath caught when gray eyes blinked wide and pleadingly up at him.

Draco held out his arms. “Up.”

“Er, what?”

Draco jerked his arms up and down, keeping them in the air. “Up! Help me up, you great oaf!”

Harry sighed and bent down, taking Draco in his arms and nearly stumbling when the blond let his body weight fall into him.

Draco smirked lazily. “Oops,” he said with a grin in his voice. “Guess you gotta carry me.”

Harry scoffed, looking to Pansy for appeal.

She waved a hand dismissively. “He’s your problem, now. Just get him out of my flat and back home intact, will you?” She didn’t wait for him to respond, walking away into another room.

Harry sighed. He wasn’t sure about the safety of Apparating or taking the Floo with someone in your arms, and the twists and turns of the Knight Bus could make a sober person sick up. With a grunt, he hoisted Draco up and into his arms bridal style, and the other man yelped and then giggled wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck.

“Home,” Draco said softly, and affection spread through Harry’s chest.

“Okay, Draco,” Harry whispered as they made their way out of the flat. “I’ve got you.”

+1.

Harry woke to the sound of muffled voices shouting at each other and the constant beep of a monitor.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, wincing as a sharp pain exploded in his side with the effort. Memories came rushing back: the raid, turning his back for a split second to shout something at Ron, blinding pain, then darkness. He tried to sit up in the hospital bed, but he let himself lie back down when his side throbbed once more.

Suddenly, the door was opened and then promptly slammed shut. “Honestly, the nerve of these people. If he needs bed rest, then where is better than his own bed? Is my Healer degree rendered meaningless the moment I’m off the clock?” Draco muttered, running a hand through his hair as he paced the room angrily.

“Draco?”

Draco jumped and turned to Harry with wild, startled eyes that made Harry laugh, and then wince in pain.

“You’re awake, thank Merlin,” Draco approached the side of the bed, relief replacing the shock on his face.

“How long have I been out?”

“Two days. You were hit with a rare curse that caused an ever-bleeding wound in your side, and the healers had to put you in a magically induced coma to reverse it.”

“That sounds good. Do Robards and—”

“Yes, Ron gave Robards the full briefing. You’re not expected in the office until a Healer permits it.”

“So, can I go home?”

“Yes, now that you’re awake, you can go home. I’ll monitor you from there.”

Harry frowned. “You don’t have to.”

Draco let out a short, humorless chuckle. “You were in a coma for two days, Harry. The only reason they’re discharging you is that you’re going home with a Healer.”

“But you don’t actually have to stay and watch me all day, right?”

“What part of ‘I’ll monitor you from there’ don’t you understand?”

“But I’m fi-!” The last word was cut off as Harry hissed through another spark of pain.

“Fine, are you?”

“Shut up.”

Draco smirked. “Not likely.”

Harry scowled, eliciting a real laugh from Draco, who moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Flatmates don’t do this, y’know.”

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Take several days off of work to care for the other when they’re injured. I’m not even sure friends do that.”

Harry noticed Draco’s jaw tighten. He ached to reach up and relax it with a gentle touch, but he kept his hand at his side.

“What are you saying, Harry?” Draco asked, his voice low and even.

“I’ll tell you what,” Harry swallowed. “I won’t argue about you wasting days away from work if you let me take you to dinner when I’ve recovered.”

The beginning of a smile curved Draco’s lips. “And what will we do in the meantime?”

Harry waggled his eyebrows. “I can think of a few ways to pass the time.”

Draco chuckled. “If you think I’m missing work just so you wind up back in here because you restarted bleeding during sex, you’ve another thing coming.”

Harry pouted halfheartedly. “Apparently I won’t be coming at all.”

Draco mimicked his petulant frown. “Aww, ickle Harry, being waited on for days by his flatmate-turned-boyfriend.”

“I’ll tell you what—”

“Didn’t we already make a deal?”

“I’ll tell you what: I won’t argue about you missing work or not having sex until I’m recovered if you let me take you to dinner once I’m healed and if we can snog as much as we like.”

"What makes you think I’ll agree to those terms?”

Harry shrugged. “If you don’t like those terms, I can come up with more. Now that I’m on bed rest, I’ve got plenty of time to think.”

“You’re not supposed to strain yourself,” Draco smirked when Harry glared at him.

Harry huffed. “You need to work on your bedside manner, Healer Malfoy.”

“I’ll get plenty of practice this week, then, won’t I?”

“Yes, you will. Now, can we get out of here? I want to start my healing regimen right away.”

Draco laughed and laced their fingers together. “Alright, Harry. Let’s go home.”

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