#also a ring of debris=more shit falling on us

[sunlitmcgee]

making an original setting is so funny. girl i have to look up how it would realistically affect the planet if the moon got split in half. it wouldn't be good for us btw. in case you were wondering

[sugarmountainspring]

April 15.

6:30 : I woke up. Liv was having bad dreams. I had 2 coffees and got dressed while consoling her. I didn't wanna go to work. I grabbed leftover dinner from the fridge, switched my insoles from my rubber adidas to my cheap jordan work shoes, grabbed my backpack and tool bag and went out to my car.

8:00 : I showed up at the office. Its liv's exam week so she doesnt need a lift to school cause theyre all online. I'm always early. Today my drive took me about 10 minutes. I left late and everything. Mondays I go to the office, most other days I just show up where I'm needed. B***** the office lady is taking some time off (I guess), and as usual I show up before the boss. I clock in and clean some old cardboard and garbage from the warehouse. I have a chat with L***, the architect. He tells me about some DJ software he uses and tells me he ran a DJ company for weddings and graduation parties for 26 years. Every time we chat he always reveals something cool like that. After a bit I go out to the front room of the office and hang out with Z**, S*** and N*****. J**** is late, as usual. After a while chatting like that, I check my phone and realize I had a call from my dad (who is also my manager). He says there's a couple of things to do around some properties out in A**********. I like those properties cause nobody is really out there except for R****, the super of the property. He's nice enough but he always talks about stupid shit and doesn't listen back. That's one thing, he's old so I kinda expect that. But if he catches you out by his properties he'll give you all kinds of work that's his responsibility but he doesn't want to do. Luckily, I avoid him as I pull into Building A.

10:00 : Unit 302 has some pretty bad water damage. I throw on the new Super Eyepatch Wolf video to listen to while I work. Above the window is a huge sheet of drywall, heavy, warped, and half fallen out of place. I start by trying to slice it up. I saw and saw and saw with my utility knife. I make a cut about 2 inches into the sheet. No dice. I decide hitting chunks off with my hammer would probably work better. I give it a hard whack and make nothing more than a small dent. Awesome. It looks like the repeated wetting and drying have turned the naturally flaky, wafery drywall to what is equivalent to a solid piece of cement. At this point, my grade 11 and 12 auto shop teacher's words ring in my head. "There are surgeons, and there are butchers. You should aim to be a surgeon, but butchers exist for a reason." I start tearing down the sheet with my hands, careful not to disturb the L-bracket that holds the bad piece of drywall to good ones around the window. From the ceiling falls several dead wasp nests and what appears to be a birds nest. No critters in there. Lucky me. I pack up the debris I've made and toss it in one of the garbage bins around the property.

11:30 : this is why I like a********** properties. Nobody ever does anything around here. At the end of my last little bit of work, I cleaned up the hole I made with my knife. With that solid drywall, my blade broke off like I was trying to carve the hole out of a lemon wafer stick. I just spent the last 20 minutes fucking around, trying to find a new blade. Nobody breathing down my neck or telling me to get back to work. It's kinda nice. Once that's done, I remember I was told to help out cleaning up the properties. Normally what that entails is moving garbage people are too lazy to throw in the garbage bin from the side of the bin to the inside of the bin. At the main hub I go to at this property, the bins are overflowing with junk and there are 4 twin sized box springs, 2 couches and several bags of garbage to the side. Hm. Down the line of houses and apartment buildings on the street, lots of bins that are much emptier. Guess I'm doing some hauling.

11:54 : I've scoped out some empty bins, and I've thrown some couches and shelves into them. I never ate breakfast, so I eat lunch. Today, I will be eating leftovers, a luxury I don't normally have. Normally, I'd eat at Wendy's, A&W, or grab something from the hotplate at the Foodland around the corner. But today I'm eating the Thai chili chicken on fluffy jasmine rice I made yesterday. Saving money never tasted sooooo good. At this point I'm listening to a video from one of my favourite channels, ANIKI, about the history of the yakuza from the 17th century to today. I grab a seat in my car, roll the windows down a crack because it's getting hot out (finally) and chow down.

12:05 : I finish lunch. During lunch, I think about how my car really needs an oil change, and how sometimes the "check coolant" light pops on. With the weather changing, I understand the latter and that doesn't worry me. The former? A little more pressing. There's one mechanic I trust in town. It's hours are the exact same as my work hours. I use my car for work so I can't just drop it off and pick it up at the end of the day. And one of those "half hour oil and tire change" places? Forget it. My mom got one of those a month ago and she's had nothing but trouble with her car since, from them explaining she needs a new fly wheel which she didn't pay for, to a transmission fluid flush that she did pay for, which immediately sprang a leak, stopped working, and needed to be repaired at the garage I trust that I mentioned earlier. I can change oil no problem, I just don't know where to dispose of the old oil. Maybe I should just lean into being scummy and throw it in the lake or just let it drain into some Tupperware and throw them into public trash cans. Much to consider. Much to stress over, more like. But for now, I'm back to slugging around old dirty wet couches and beds. I would ask myself why I don't get a desk job doing data entry and sending emails, but I know I'd be just as whiny and complainy there as I am here. At least here I get some exercise and some sun and a decent wage. My town isn't exactly a hub for business, but this is where I live so I take what gets doled out to me. There's a real meth problem in my city. Everywhere you go, you see people pushing shopping carts full of jumper cables, old shoes missing matches, and pounds upon pounds of sweets, eyes bugged out of their heads, screaming at people, twitching and itching all over. I've been having a nagging thought over the past couple of months that, while that seems less than optimal, I'm kinda at my breaking point. Should I just give up on regular society and run with that society? Or should I finally do what I've been thinking about since I was 15 and just kill myself. I know everyone says life gets better as you get older but I found that hard to believe back then, and I still do today. For now, I haul garbage.

2:49 : moved around as much junk as I could. There's still a couple of couches and a huge mattress by one of the bins but they don't fit in my car and the next empty bin to the one they're next to is about a kilometer away. I still have an hour left at work today so I may drag them over. I may not. Who's to say. I may just hang out. That's the beauty of working at the farthest property from the office. Nobody's gonna say anything! Since I last logged my stuff here, I went out to the D*** road property. It's a lazy Monday, I'm done all my make readys for my move ins next month so I'm not stressed, and I just cleaned up some garbage there. There's a lot less to do over there. One box spring, a couple cardboard boxes, and an old bathtub. All tossed in a bin. I caught one of the cleaners out there and we talked. I'm bad with names, so I can't put it here, even in a redacted form. She's nice though. We just talked about how expensive shit is getting, and how much of a dickhead our boss is. He drives a ferrari. He's a landlord. He's kinda a local villain. He sent me and everyone I work with an email to explain that we wouldn't be able to get in touch with him cause he's skiing in the north pole right now because business is so bad because hamas terrorists killed a bunch of innocent colonizers on the other side of the planet. OK man. I've worked here since the beginning of January and I still haven't seen him. And this is his second vacation of the year. Last was at the south pole. Thoughts and prayers dude, I hope you can crank up rent even higher soon 🙏. During my chat with the cleaning lady my bestie sent me some pics. During high school we were super tight, but their parents moved to Nova Scotia on our last day of grade 11 and they've lived there ever since. But just yesterday they touched down in Alberta for a summer job out in the mountains at some kind of resort. Included in some of the pics they sent me was a trailer park at the foot of some mountains. Doesn't that just seem beautiful? I'm not a man of excess, I'm very very easy to please, I think I could do well in a cheap double-wide with a view. I think I could convince Liv to get out there with me. She's in school right now so it would probably take a year or two. But I've talked about moving all over (even to alberta) so many times this is all just another pipe dream. That being said, best of luck to the homie Llewellyn and all of their future alberta endeavors.

4:00 : leaving work. Didn't do any more cleaning. Just sat around.

4:26 : just got home. Liv stayed home to study for her exams. But she cooked me some Ramen and hot dogs that were ready when i got home. Thank you Liv ❤️. She's watching a YouTube video where some Korean guys bite things in a kitchen, and some of the things they bite may be cake. It's a beautiful warm day out so I put down my tools and stripped butt naked, sat down on the couch, and dug into my food. I think I'm going to play some pokemon quarantine crystal on my phone.

4:54 : changed my mind and changed the TV to something we can watch together. Literally since I made that last entry to now I've been looking for a movie to watch. I settled on hereditary. It took me half an hour to find a movie. I think there's something wrong with my brain

5:15 : Liv wanted to paint so I'm here on da toilet thinking of things to paint

6:29 : I painted a face. I always paint faces. This one came out ugly. That's ok cause plenty of people have ugly faces. I feel ugly so I wanted to make something kinda ugly. I had a beer and now I'm laying in bed. I never nap but I feel like I want one right now. I asked Liv to wake me up in 20 but idk if I'll actually fall asleep at all. Guess we'll see.

6:34 : instagram was always fucking dumb but now it feels extra extra dumb.

8:29 : Liv came in to "wake me up" (I didn't sleep) but she climbed into bed and we held eachother and we had sex. We left bed, she continued painting and I played some Persona 4, which I haven't played in a bit. Good news everyone: Yukiko Amagi is safe!! Me and Liv are going out to get Boba now. Liv's painting is really pretty. A long time ago she painted one really similar to what she's painting now, so this one is kinda an update. A psychedelic bust of a headless pink and yellow lady on a royal blue background. She says she's gonna have flowers busting out of a crack in her chest and her head hole. I can't wait to see how it turns out.

10:04 : it's the end of the day. I took my garbage out and passed my downstairs neighbors in the hall. We said hi. Paper recycling today. I've been slacking on that one. I don't care about recycling, it's just that it tears the regular garbage bags so it's easier to put it in a bin. So it's all outside now. I took a quick shower. I didn't wash my hair because I don't like the way it looks after it's been washed, all poofy and round. I blew my nose in my hand and it was still black from the dust in the unit with the warped drywall. A symbol of a hard day's work. Well, maybe not that hard. Either way, I'm in bed right now. Liv is calling her mom. They're tight. When she hangs up, we'll probably watch some simpsons or seinfeld and fall asleep hugging eachother all soft and warm uwu

[elvaria-project]

Oversimplified-ish Elvaria Lore- Part 2, Classical History(Age of the Cycelian Empires)

We cut back to Elvaria lore where we ended off last time, being there's now whole ass kingdoms that are quickly becoming empires Big 3 are Solaris, kingdom of the sun, Lunaris, kingdom of the moon, and Urthalis, kingdom of the sunrise and sunset There's a 4th smaller kingdom that is on the same continent as Lunaris called Estellis, which is the kingdom of the stars There's also a massive storm in the center point of where all the continents would meet Remember the Åkthora? Yeah they're the ones that are living on a small floating set of islands surrounded by extreme storms, and now they're known as Åsterlis but still isolated Miners quickly discover veins of Asurei which are the energies that course through the world Golden Age incoming with breakthroughs in magic and practical application of Asurei into inventions, turns the big 3 kingdoms into empires Golden Age would become known as The Prosperous Gold or Golden Age of the Prosperity Technologically, the world would hit something similar to the 1990s Estellis was particularly advanced but hid their hyperadvanced shit underground after they found out about something they weren't supposed to

Estellans hit a technological point equivalent to the not so distant human future Asurei experiments start early on in the Prosperous Gold and continue for thousands of years Estellis is absorbed into Lunaris via treaty somewhere at the 50,000 year mark An organization called the Accord of Oracles rises into prominence as trusted aides of royalty, and the people in it are blessed(or cursed?) by otherworldly beings with control over time to give them foresight -Roughly 490,000 years of experiments and prosperity pass by until the oracles warn the empires of the end of their glory through an event that will come to be known as The Fall They warned them of the folly of careless experimentation and complacency with the world with no cautions, but at the meeting of the empires, they were written off as madmen The Empress of Urthalis completely disregarded the warnings as she believed that Urthalisan technology was flawless, and the suggest otherwise was a slight on her kingdom's intelligence The King of Solaris believed that the oracles had begun speaking nonsense and had lost their gifts, only becoming doomsayers to sow chaos among the rulership of the empires The King of Lunaris briefly considered the possibility that the warnings were true, but decided to write off his worries and trust in the judgement of his fellow monarchs The representatives with Lunaris that represented the old kingdom of Estellis would side with the oracles, not doubting the truth of their warnings

These representatives held no true power though, and ended up being removed from their positions by the judgement of the 3 monarchs under the reason of doubting the prowess of the empire and conspiracy. The Accord of Oracles was then forcefully dissolved and the Asurei experiments continued as those 10,000 years slowly ran their course, until that fateful day where an oversight in Urthalisan storage chamber systems caused pure Asurei energy to leak and then explode. These chambers were each roughly the size of a lake and were spread across and around the capital city of Urthalis, and the detonation of one set off all the others, creating a massive blast that would decimate roughly 6,300 km of land from the force alone The rings of destruction around it brought debris that rained down on many more people and choked the sky with dust and rubble, but what would kill the most people would be the Asurei contamination itself There was a good reason why the most potent Asurei ran deep within the group in veins and the commonly used Asurei was impure and in less concentrated amounts in the air, and that was because pure Asurei was pure poison and acted similar to radiation This would mark the end of the Prosperous Gold, and thus the empires fell in under a week, them now realizing too late that their mistake to not heed the words of the oracles was fatal This event would become known as The Fall from then on- the fall of the Cycelian empires and all they had worked for, and the fall of the people as the world descended into darkness and chaos- But this is not the end of Elvaria's story.

[mellaithwen]

And if all the sky is falling (hold on) 3370 words. I actually cannot believe it's gone 3am but SUCH IS THE WAY OF THE CLOWN CAR <3 inspired by everyone's spiralling, particularly @astronautdiaz 's post here

Buck's injured on a call, and so of course Eddie's on the other end of the line when he dials 9-1-1....

Buck groans as he comes to.

His ears are ringing with a shrill whine sounding on repeat, and almost instantly a deep ache starts to creep into his awareness before he’s even opened his eyes. As soon as he recognises the hurt for what it is, his body seems to light up with it all at once. His back, his chest, his legs, everything throbbing as his muddled mind tries to make sense of what’s happening.

He tries to move, but as his body shifts he can’t help but gasp in pain and his sharp inhalation is quickly reduced to spasming coughs that make his ribs scream and shift unnaturally.

The air tastes like ash and dust, and smoke, and that’s never a good sign.

He opens his eyes finally only for his vision to swim. It’s dark, and he can’t make out much of anything, but it doesn’t take long for him to realize the strange crack in the center of his eye line is actually the broken visor of his now useless mask. Definitely not a good sign.

He tries to remember where he is, or what call they were even attending, but his head’s a foggy mess, and he can’t…he can’t remember.

Judging by the nature of the debris, he thinks he must have been caught in a structure collapse. He thinks he can hear the rumbling of a hungry fire still raging in the distance, and it's getting harder and harder to breathe in the smoky air. He just hopes no one else was down there with him when the ceiling came down.

He carefully lifts his right arm, glad to find that the pain doesn’t increase when he does so, and he carefully pats his chest in search of his radio. His movements are slow and sluggish and when he finally finds the damn thing it’s crushed and broken. He tries using it anyway, keys the button a few times in his palm, but he gets nothing but static in return.

Shit, he thinks. Shit, shit, shit—

He remembers his phone’s in his right side pocket. Undoing his turnout-coat takes more energy than he has to spare, and he’s almost certain it’ll be a fruitless effort but he keeps going regardless. His gloved fingers feel clumsy as he goes, reaching for the cell but when the backlight from his lock-screen almost blinds him in the near dark, he feels like crying.

He also feels like puking, because the light is like an ice-pick to his brain, and his eyes are already streaming at the smoke in the air, but for the moment he focuses on the relief instead of the inherent dizziness from his likely concussion.

The screen’s cracked to hell, pieces of broken glass crumbling in his hand; completely unresponsive to his touch, but the time’s still visible, even if he can’t quite make out the numbers, and there’s actually a goddamn signal.

“Siri—” he tries to say, before a coughing fit hampers his progress.

Sorry I didn’t quite catch that, his phone chirps and Buck has a sudden vivid image of Eddie’s ongoing war with Hildy that would normally leave him laughing, if he didn’t think his ribs would protest loudly at the action.

“Siri,” he says again, steeling himself to stave off the coughing just long enough to get through, “call 9-1-1.”

read the rest on ao3

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[jackrrabbit]

Sidekick /// Dabi x f!Reader x Shigaraki (18+)

Summary: During a rescue gone wrong, a rookie sidekick catches the attention of two villains.

A/N: Thanks for 1k followers!! This is the fic that made me create a smut blog/lowkey inspired this. imho this might be the spiciest thing I’ve ever written 😳 also wanted to call out @kazooli​ because this is highkey inspired by her lol thanks queen

Tags/warnings: quirk kink, reader’s quirk makes other quirks stronger, noncon, threesome, lots of foreplay, outdoor sex, mild overstimulation, degradation, mild violence, threats, chronological/temporal inaccuracies, fucking long

You can hardly be blamed for not recognizing them. It’s only been three weeks since you debuted as a pro, and you’re not even really a hero. You’re a sidekick, and apparently you’re not important enough to have been briefed on the major villains you need to look out for. You’re just…doing your duty. Rescuing civilians indiscriminately. Stupid, naive little sidekick. It’s not your fault that the lives you just saved belong to the two most notorious villains around.

Still, Shigaraki can’t wait to see the look on your face when you find out.

///

The disaster you ‘rescue’ them from—the League’s bar crashing down, the result of a small-time villain’s poisonous gas quirk—isn’t even a disaster. It’s a minor annoyance, sure, but Shigaraki and Dabi would have been fine without you…even though both of them missed Kurogiri’s warp gate and ended up trapped under a wooden beam in the wreckage of the building… Okay, it’s more than a minor annoyance. Shigaraki hacks violently as the cloud of foul-smelling steam and powdered debris enters his lungs. The poisonous quirk doesn’t seem to be having the same acid-burn effects on his body as it did on the building, but he can’t assume it’s harmless.

Father… Shigaraki took Father off his face to drink at the bar earlier before the gas hit, and now in the confusion the severed hand is either buried underneath the rubble that used to be the League’s main base or somewhere else out of view. “Father? Father!” Shigaraki calls out, attempting to shift under the crushing weight of the beam.

“Shut up,” Dabi says from somewhere to Shigaraki’s left. “Kurogiri took it in one of the portals, I saw it.” He looks worse than Shigaraki feels—something hit him in the face as the bar collapsed, and a few of the staples (piercings? stitches? whatever) on his right cheek are torn open and bleeding.

“Are you lying to me?”

Dabi sneers and rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get out of here.” His palms glow blue and Shigaraki follows suit, letting four fingers sit on the wood that’s pinning both of them to the ground. It’s too heavy to lift, so they’re going to have to get rid of it…a task that seems significantly more difficult when it becomes clear that neither of them are positioned at the right angle to touch it.

Shigaraki tries to wrest his arm out enough for his thumb to touch the wood, but it’s impossible. Beside him, Dabi’s having the same issue. “Shit, I can’t reach—“

“Is someone there?” Confident, clear, and oddly robotic, your voice cuts through the din of gurgling water from cracked pipes and police sirens like a lit flare in the darkness. Shigaraki tenses and halts his attempts to get free from the beam, and a second later Dabi mimics him.

“I heard voices.” The same unfamiliar voice rings out through the half-light, now accompanied by a body—your body, taking a series of awkward jumps down the piles of rubble to land in front of the two of them. The outfit you’re wearing is ridiculous: a pair of metal boots that clang against the cement wherever you step, matching braces on your arms, and a space-age chrome motorcycle helmet to top it all off.

A hero. Shigaraki’s lip curls in disgust as your head turns his way.

You scan the scene quickly, eyes resting on the two men trapped in front of you for a moment before you turn back to the opening in the wreckage. “Found two civilians!” you call out to the rescue workers just in case they’re within earshot, although it’s unlikely.

Dabi snickers under his breath. Civilians? Even in the chaos, you should’ve known the second you saw them who you’re looking at. Are you faking ignorance? Got something up your sleeve?  It’s either that, or you genuinely don’t recognize them. Priceless.

You kneel down in front of the fallen beam and give a half-hearted attempt to pick it up. It doesn’t budge. No surprises there—if it were light enough for you to lift by yourself, the two men held down by it would have no problem getting out with their combined strength. You’re going to have to use your support gear to get it off them.

But first—you search for a memory of your rescue training. Reassure the victims. They’re probably panicking.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell them, your voice coming out mechanical and distorted from the helmet you’re wearing. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here to save you.”

This time, Dabi has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Ah, yes…they’re so lucky that there’s a do-gooder little hero around to rescue them, because they’d be helpless otherwise. The laugh is still audible, though, and Shigaraki shoots him a glare.

You raise an eyebrow at their expressions. Did he just laugh? Well…you’ve heard that people sometimes have inappropriate reactions in times of crisis. The dark-haired man seems more badly hurt, so you creep toward him first, careful not to disturb any of the debris and trigger an avalanche reaction. “I’m going to check your injuries now,” you tell him, and your gloved hand brushes away a sweep of spiky hair to examine the sizable red bump growing on his forehead.

Ouch…there’s no way that doesn’t hurt, but the man’s not letting any of the pain show on his face. Instead, he looks disinterested at best, and at worst? You almost get the feeling that he’s eyeing you up under your hero costume. Not that you can blame him. Damn this skin-tight bodysuit—it leaves basically nothing to the imagination.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask him. “I don’t think this is too serious, but they’ll look you over for a concussion when I get you to first aid.”

Dabi shrugs and you frown. Is the non-verbal response because of the ripped stitches in his face? Is it too painful to talk? Or could there be brain damage? Or maybe he’s just a man of few words or something…?

“Can you get on with it? Pick up the fucking beam already,” Shigaraki hisses.

Startled, you pull your hand away from the other man’s forehead. That ungrateful little…nope, nope, don’t get annoyed, he’s just in shock. “O-Of course, sorry. Just gotta make sure it’s okay to move.”

Luckily, the beam doesn’t look like it’s supporting anything else that’ll fall if you pick it up. You crouch down next to one end and steady your feet against the cement, lifting up with all your strength while activating the effects of the support items you’re wearing. When you feel the metal on your arm braces grow warm, you remind yourself again to thank the developer of your costume. You may not be a fan of the way-too-tight bodysuit that clings to everything, but the strength-enhancing armor that you wear on your arms and legs more than makes up for it.

A second later, you hold back a grin. It’s moving! You try to ignore the unpleasant screech of metal against stone as the beam slowly lifts into the air. As soon as the men get out from under it, you pant and let it crash back into the ground. “You guys okay?”

“Mm…yes,” Dabi replies, running a hand over the torn piercings in his cheek. “Got any more gas masks for the poison mist?”

“Don’t worry! The Commission is familiar with the villain who created it, and the gas isn’t harmful to anything living. Only buildings. It’s a troublesome quirk, but we’ve got it under control.”

“Then what’s with the helmet?”

He can hear the hesitation in your reply, even distorted and tinny through the metal speakers. “Uh…I, well…”

Now that you’re getting a good look at them, the two scarred faces in front of you seem weirdly intense, considering you’ve just saved them from a collapsed building. The dark-haired man’s eyes are…very, very blue next to the burned-looking skin underneath, and the other man’s greyish-blue hair isn’t quite long enough to obscure a pair of red irises that are scrutinizing your face with obvious hostility.

You give a nervous shake of your head to clear it. “Um, the helmet is…it’s dangerous if I take it off. I should get you guys back to the rescue area, I need to meet up with my hero…” Without thinking, you take a step back and then one more, not knowing exactly why you’re backing away when you’re supposed to be escorting them. “I’ll just lead the way?”

With your third step back, though, you bump into something hard. What was that? Your head jerks around but before you can identify what it is that stopped your retreat, you feel the faint sensation of something tapping lightly on the back of your helmet.

And then…it just…crumbles.

What just happened?

You cough and shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of dust. A breeze whips through your hair, sending a chill through you in more ways than one. How? No one pulled the helmet off; you would’ve felt it if they had. More dust sticks to your face, and you rub your eyes so you can open them.

Behind you, Shigaraki waits with outstretched fingers an inch away from your neck. If he had to explain the decision to decay your helmet strategically, he could—you’re a hero, a potential threat, and he wants to know what you’re hiding under that outfit just in case you figure out who they are and decide to turn on them.

But really? He didn’t think about it that much. It was an impulse reaction to you walking away from them; a tantrum. Child-like.

Once your stunned face is exposed, Dabi has to wonder what you were even trying to hide. You’re…surprisingly ordinary. Young-looking—a rookie, fresh from hero school graduations a few weeks ago maybe? Large, expressive eyes, lips parted in shock, but nothing particularly interesting. Shigaraki cocks his head to the side to study your face too, and both of them are so focused on your appearance that it takes a moment for them to notice the feeling.

Well, feeling isn’t really the right word, but there isn’t a word for the way your quirk works. Dabi’s eyes widen when it reaches him and behind you, Shigaraki stiffens. You notice.

There’s an involuntary quiver in your voice as you break the silence. “Y-You guys must have strong quirks if you can feel it just from that.”

Dabi sucks in a breath. So this is your quirk? It’s different…he’s never felt anything like it, not that he’s exactly sure what it is. There’s some kind of energy in the air around you that he’s breathing in, a feeling like taking a shot of espresso after days of sleep deprivation.

No, it’s stronger than that. The head rush after doing a line of cocaine would be a better metaphor.

Either way, he’s awake—more awake than he can remember feeling in a long time. Heat rises to the surfaces of his palms unbidden, his quirk appearing without him calling it. “What is this?”

“…It’s called Boost,” you say, licking your lips as a dry wave of heat radiates out from the man in front of you. “I can strengthen other people’s quirks. That’s why it’s dangerous—if the villain finds us—“

“It must have been hard to get through hero school with a quirk like that,” says a raspy voice from behind you.

What—? Your head twists around. When did he—

Shigaraki grips your shoulder with three fingers, holding just tightly enough to keep you from stumbling forward and away from him. His pinky and ring finger hover an inch over your costume, careful not to disintegrate the fabric he’s touching—although with the power sparking through his veins at the moment, it almost feels like three fingers would be enough.

“…Doesn’t really seem like the kind of quirk a hero has.” His voice, soft and pondering (a weird contrast to the harsh architecture of his facial features you’d seen earlier), feels very close to your ear. Something soft tickles your cheek. His hair?

A voice (an instinct?) deep inside of you is telling you to run. You ignore it. This is normal, right? It’s not uncommon for civilians who’ve just suffered a traumatic villain attack to have questions, even if those questions seem irrelevant to the situation at hand. You have to answer, even if your gut is churning. “I’m not really a hero. Not yet. For now, I’m a sidekick to one of the pros—and speaking of which, I really need to find—“

“But how does it work?” Dabi doesn’t notice himself making a conscious decision to step forward, but he does anyway and being closer to you feels right. He can see the trepidation on your face as he gets close enough to reach out and touch you, but you can’t really ask him to stay back, can you? Not when your quirk feels this good?

“I—“ Is it unreasonable that you think you’re being trapped right now? They’re just a couple of civilians, right? The question itself is common enough. People often wonder how you can be a hero. It’s a concern you’ve had to address dozens of times over the years. “Well, I work with rescue operations, especially with other heroes who have healing-type quirks. I can also assist in combat in some situations.”

“In combat? If you’re with a hero and a villain, you’ll enhance both quirks. Seems counterintuitive,” Dabi says, half aware that his voice is getting lower.

“And you clearly don’t have physical abilities. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have…these.” Shigaraki taps three fingers on the metal brace on your right arm.

“The effects can be unpredictable. And I can increase the degree of the enhancement with physical contact.”

“Contact?”

“Yeah. The gloves of my costume come off. My quirk is way stronger when it’s skin-to-skin.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

You shouldn’t have said that.

Shigaraki’s ring finger and pinky, which were hovering over the arm brace, come down to rest on the cold metal. The effect is instant: no crumbling, no slow decay—it’s there, and then it’s dust. His quirk in action, boosted by yours.

“What—What are you doing? What did you just do?” You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tight by your collar. His other hand comes up to grip your chin, and in one long sloppy stroke, he licks you from your neck up to your jawline.

You shudder. So does Shigaraki.

“It’s my quirk,” he tells you slowly. His breath is steamy warm on the cold, wet trail of saliva painting your throat. “Decay. Have you heard of it?”

You flinch away from his hand and your back falls against his chest. Of course you’ve heard of the Decay quirk. You might be a rookie, but even civilians know about the young, impetuous head of the League of Villains. Jesus, how had you not recognized him earlier? White hair, red eyes…you should have known. You should have left him under that beam. “Shigaraki…Tomura.”

“So you’re not completely clueless. Do you know me, then?” Dabi asks. He would think he’s the more noticeable of the two (the burn scars usually identify him), but you just stare up at him with the same deer-in-the-headlights look as before. Smirking, he lights a blue fire in his palm and it jumps up toward your face—not just the small spark he intended, but a bright, high flame. “Maybe this will help you remember.”

“The Forest of Beasts incident. You’re the one who started that fire,” you whisper. You’ve seen the TV coverage of the attack on UA’s training camp, the abduction of that teenage student, the forest lit up blue from wildfire. No wonder his skin looks burned.

“Dabi,” he corrects you.

Breath is coming out of your mouth in shallow puffs. Are you hyperventilating? Is this what hyperventilating feels like? You’re definitely panicking. They’re so close to you, caging you in between them. The smoke from the blue fire is uncomfortably hot over the exposed skin of your face, and Shigaraki’s lethal hands are still touching you. If they want to kill you—and why wouldn’t they?—you’re fucked.

The flame goes out and Dabi’s hands come down to squeeze your wrists. His palms are hot like he was holding them in front of a lit stove. It’s not painful, but it’s a threat.

“I’ll fight,” you say.

Your voice is trembling, and Shigaraki likes it. The effects of your quirk, the way he felt when he licked your face… And you’re afraid. He can see it in your shoulders, the quivering of your torso pressed into him. It’s nice. He wants to feel it more.

You’re struggling against their hold, and Dabi feels the urge to laugh. “You’ll fight…the two of us.”

“If you try to kill me, I’ll—“

Before you can finish your sentence, Shigaraki’s hands flit down to your metal support gear and disintegrate it. Shit. He’s fast, and you’re helpless.

Dabi releases your wrists and cups your face in a mockery of intimacy. His eyelids flutter closed as his skin meets yours… Fuck, he could get used to this. You smell so good, sweet and soft and clean, like fruity shampoo. What is that, watermelon?

Life must be difficult for you, hm… Everyone around you must want to touch you constantly. It seems like Shigaraki enjoyed licking you—maybe bodily fluids are an even stronger conductor of your quirk? Pushing easily past your resistance, Dabi forces your jaw upward and kisses you.

Oh…yesyesyes, just like that. Perfect. Dabi has to bite down a groan as his tongue enters your mouth. It’s ridiculous for someone else’s spit to taste this good, but he’s right—your quirk is amplified by the contact from the kiss.

After a moment he has to break it to regain focus and make sure he’s not burning you. You cringe away from him, your cheek brushing against Shigaraki’s neck, but Dabi tangles his hand in your hair to pull you back. He runs a finger against your closed lips, letting the pad of his fingertip heat up until your mouth drops open in response to the threat.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shigaraki asks, voice laced with revulsion. Privately, you agree. What’s going on? You were sure you were about to be either burned to a crisp or decayed into the equivalent.

Dabi laughs under his breath. “Try it. It feels crazy good.”

Curious now, Shigaraki wrenches your head around and tilts your jaw up to repeat Dabi’s action. When you refuse to open your mouth, he taps your jaw warningly and a hiss of fear escapes you. Would he really kill you? He decayed your support gear so quickly—would it be the same for your body?

Well, what’s going to stop them?

You open your mouth.

Shigaraki’s lips are harsh and unsentimental against yours. His tongue sweeps over the inside of your mouth, invasive and brutal. He grips you forcefully, his face pushing you deeper into the strained hold with your head twisted toward his. You’ve never been kissed like this before. His spit—it’s in your mouth.

And Dabi’s hands are on your waist. “How do you get this thing off?” he murmurs, pinching the fabric of your bodysuit.

A surge of panicked adrenaline gives you the strength to pull back away from Shigaraki. “What? No, you can’t!”

“Are you going to stop us, little sidekick?” Dabi mocks. “I think I can burn it off without too much damage.”

“Let me.” Shigaraki takes hold of the cloth, careful so when it dissolves into dust his hand isn’t touching you, and within a second—a second—you’re left shivering in just your underwear and boots.

“Help!” The plea squeaks out and you hope blindly that there’s a hero close enough to hear you. But is there even anyone who can fight them? You certainly can’t. “Help me! Somebody!”

“Shut up.” Dabi sends up a tongue of flame from a fingertip and you shriek as the heat sears against you. “Oh, come on. You should feel lucky. Bad guys like us usually don’t hesitate to take heroes out.”

“I don’t— Please, I’m just a sidekick, I’m a rookie— What do you even want from me? Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone! Please let me go.”

“Well, I think I know what I want.” Dabi traces circles over the tender skin of your hips, playing with the elastic of your underwear. He meets Shigaraki’s eye over your shoulder. “I think he wants that too. Right?”

“Yeah, I want…I want to fuck her,” Shigaraki hums. This isn’t like him, but he can’t help himself. You’re different. Leaving you here and never feeling this stimulant again isn’t an option. He buries his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, bites down on the soft skin there, and sucks.

You whimper, half from his answer and half from the sensation of his chapped lips on your neck. “Why are you doing this?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…you smell like something I want to eat. Especially this.” Dabi kneels down in front of you and hitches one of your legs up over his shoulder so you feel his hot breath washing over your clothed pussy.

You whine and attempt to wriggle back away from him, but Dabi’s grip on your thigh holds firm. His other hand brushes against the fabric of your panties to rub up against your slit and another surge of panic jumps up your throat. You can’t let him do this.

You kick your foot against his back, desperately attempting to make contact using the heel of the high boot that’s the only piece of outerwear still left on your body. It hits him awkwardly and he growls. “Damn it. Can’t you keep her busy?”

“Ahh…” Shigaraki ceases his oral assault on your neck and scratches a fingernail against one of the bright red marks marring your skin. He feels almost dizzy from the way your quirk is affecting him. Behind him, the broken expanse of wall digging into his back is the only thing keeping his focus. “Behave, sidekick.”

Before you can respond to the mocking title, Shigaraki’s face is against yours and his tongue is in your mouth again. Rough fingertips work up under the band of your sports bra and pushes it up over your tits. You screw your eyes shut at the sudden feeling of cold air on your nipples, and you know without looking that they’re standing up. Shigaraki gropes you thoughtlessly, keeping one finger lifted off of your skin, and you gasp on his tongue.

“That’s better.” Dabi’s mouth returns to brush against your panties. To be honest, eating you out isn’t the first thing on his mind. What he wants—what he really wants—is to shove you up against the wall and fuck into you and find out what your quirk feels like when you’re wrapped around his cock. But you’re probably not wet enough for that, and it’s not like Shigaraki is going to do anything to take care of you. Dabi would be surprised if the other man’s ever eaten pussy before in his life.

Besides…you smell good. It’s not even just the feeling of your quirk exciting him. The rich, feminine scent of your pussy is inches away from him, and Dabi is dying to make you cum in his mouth.

A moan curls up from deep in your throat as Dabi caresses the lips of your pussy through your underwear. You don’t bother protesting—at this point, it’s unlikely that any plea you could muster would stop them. Your earlier begging didn’t do much besides spur them on, but you still cry out as softly as you can when an unnaturally warm fingertip slips under the cloth of your panties to dip into your slit.

“Oh? You’re wetter than I expected. Are you enjoying this?”

Your frantic denial falls on deaf ears. Shigaraki rasps out a laugh and bites down on your neck again. He’s supposed to be keeping you still, but he can’t help enjoying the way your almost-naked body feels as you press yourself back into his chest, trying to force some space between yourself and Dabi.

Your squirming is no problem for Dabi, though—you’re so soft and vulnerable and the velvety skin of your inner thigh looks so delicious… He nuzzles against the area of bare skin and latches on to it, sucking until he’s sure you’re going to have a mark in a few minutes. The thought of leaving hickeys on you like a teenager is sickeningly nostalgic. You’re probably going to try to forget this when they’re done, aren’t you? But you won’t be able to, not when you’re covered in love bites and bruises. You’re going to be marked up for weeks.

Fuck, he’s hard.

Too impatient to bother taking off your panties, Dabi just pushes them aside to gain access to your damp cunt. His fingers feel hot—too hot, almost unbearably hot; you feel like you could melt into a puddle and your pussy is certainly slick enough as he pets your clit and slides one finger in, then two… You whimper and shake your head, silently denying what’s happening to you. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but Dabi’s fingers quickly find that rough patch inside of you that makes you want to beg like an animal. You hate it, but it feels good.

“She’s so tight,” Dabi says with something like awe in his voice. You can hear Shigaraki panting behind your back.

“Get on with it,” Shigaraki says.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

For a second you just feel Dabi’s humid breath against your dripping cunt before he closes the space between the two of you and his tongue slides onto you, laving over your cunt to come to a rest on your clit. A sound you’ve never heard yourself make before forces its way out of your mouth as Dabi eats you out in earnest, rubbing his tongue against your clit in a stuttering rhythm that gives you no time to catch your breath.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Your head rolls back onto Shigaraki’s shoulder. You feel like crying for a million reasons at once. Maybe you’re already crying—the sounds you’re making are almost like sobs. You want him to stop. You never want him to stop. Your hands twitch as you fight the impulse to fist them in the villain’s hair and pin him down between your thighs.

“Fuck, oh fuck, no stop please stop, ah…!” The stream of gibberish coming out of your mouth crescendoes into a real sob as you feel your climax coming. No—you can’t—you can’t cum here, in this broken-down bar, on the tongue of a villain, but it doesn’t matter that you can’t, because you’re going to cum anyway.

“Please don’t, please let me go—“ You writhe uncontrollably as the desire to cum sweeps over you, but Dabi just curls one arm around your thigh and pulls his face away so he can push his fingers back in, angling his palm to grind roughly over your clit. The harsh, rough texture after the warm wet softness of his tongue is enough to push you over the edge and you cry out your orgasm, your pussy clenching onto Dabi’s fingers as he works them in and out of you.

Unable to support yourself, you crumple like paper, and only the two villains you’re sandwiched between keep you upright.

“Fucking finally,” Shigaraki growls, and he pushes you down so your knees scrape painfully into the rubble. Your earlier resistance was cute, but so is your dazed compliance as he pulls your hips up to meet his.

“You’re going first?” Dabi asks incredulously. After he did all that work getting you off? No way.

“You can use her mouth,” Shigaraki tells him. His cock is straining against his pants and he groans as he releases it and rubs it over your panties. He could decay them, but…they’re cute. Pale pink, peach-pink, except for the wet spot over your cunt. Precum is already dribbling out of his cock as he pulls your panties to the side and lines it up with your pussy. Jesus-fucking-christ, you’re wet, sopping and slimy. Doesn’t that mean you’re begging to get filled up? Shigaraki hears himself sigh as he slides the head of his cock up and down your slit so it’ll be wet enough to go in.

You’re still out of it, dizzy from your orgasm and the tension of the situation, but you snap back to your senses with the feeling of something hard pushed up to your entrance. “Wait!” you yelp for what feels like the hundredth time. The gravel scattered over the wreckage where you’ve been forced onto your hands and knees digs painfully into your flesh as you pull away from Shigaraki, but he holds fast to your hips with pinkies raised.

“Uh-uh,” Dabi admonishes with a grin, as if he’s reprimanding a dog for not coming when called. He settles himself in front of your front and kneels again. Your hair is mussed but still silky soft and he takes a moment to enjoy the way the strands slip over his skin before he tangles his fingers close to your scalp and yanks your head in his direction, forcing your cheek to chafe against the crotch of his pants. It’s not difficult to tell what the the thick bulge is through the fabric, and you try to flinch away only to be caught again and immobilized.

“You’re going to take care of us,” Dabi tells you. “Like I took care of you. Okay?”

No, it’s not okay, it’s absolutely not okay, and you would say so if you didn’t see Dabi’s expression darken at your obvious denial and feel a wave of acrid heat coming from his hand in your hair. The smell is worse than the feeling, honestly—you’ve had enough run-ins with hair curlers and flat irons to recognize the smell of hair when it’s three seconds away from burning. “Okay! Okay,” you answer, panicked, voice muffled by the fabric of Dabi’s pants.

“Good girl,” he purrs, and the heat fades.

“I’m not waiting any longer,” Shigaraki says from behind you.

“Then don’t.”

You whine, too scared to try to get away again or even plead with them to let you go, but it doesn’t matter. Shigaraki’s cock presses into your pussy, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him as he slides into you, inch by inch, torturously slow. Is there anything to bite down on? You need to do something, anything to distract from the pain of Shigaraki’s cock stretching you out. He’s big, impossibly big.

Eyes squeezed shut, you bite your lip until you can taste copper and scrabble around blindly until your hand finds loose fabric to grip. It’s something of Dabi’s, probably the coat he’s wearing if you remember correctly, but your brain isn’t exactly working right at the moment—

“You were right…shit, she’s…she’s so fucking tight.” Shigaraki’s voice is low and labored with the effort of not thrusting into you all at once. “Feels like…she’s trying to push me out…”

Fuck it, he thinks. Would it really be so bad if he did push all the way into you in one stroke? It’s better to just get it over with, isn’t it? Yeah…you’d probably prefer him to do it quickly. And besides, he can’t wait another second to feel you all the way up to the base of his cock.

Your strangled whimper is drowned out by his satisfied groan as he shoves the rest of the way into you in a single sudden thrust. The pain knocks the breath out of you in a gasp, and your eyes fly open as you clutch Dabi’s coat like a lifeline.

“It hurts—!”

“Yeah…yeah, I bet it does,” Shigaraki pants, holding your hips steady as he thrusts in and out of you. The bored nonchalance of earlier is gone, replaced by a feral intensity as his cock carves its way through your pussy. If you didn’t know better, you’d think there’s something affectionate in his voice.

For Shigaraki’s part, he can hardly think of anything aside from the soft, hot, wet cunt wrapped over his dick. It’s taking every vestige of concentration he has left to make sure he’s holding a single finger on each hand away from your skin. It’s pure bliss. Your body was made to be fucked like this. He wants to live inside your pussy, he wants to do this every day, every minute. Fucking you raw is the best he’s felt in months…years. And it doesn’t hurt that your quirk is still working on him, still sending pleasurable shocks of energy that make him feel simultaneously like he could keep you pinned down for hours and like he could cum any second.

“Oh, she’s crying,” Dabi says, tilting your chin up so he can look into your eyes. You flinch and try to jerk your head away, but his hand is still holding you by your hair and he’s so much stronger than you are. They both are, even without using their quirks. “Look at me.”

You comply, more by reflex than any real desire to obey. It’s pretty striking to Dabi how cute you look as Shigaraki pounds into you so fast and deep you can hardly catch your breath. Your eyes are glittering with unshed tears, your tits bounce with every thrust, and you’re still holding onto Dabi’s coat like your life depends on it. It’s almost like you’re pulling him closer. Adorable.

“She can…take it,” Shigaraki responds breathily between thrusts. “Such a good whore, taking my big cock in her tight little pussy…”

The backhanded compliment jars you and you feel hot tears spill over your cheeks. “I’m—not—a—whore,” you manage to say, each word punctuated with Shigaraki’s skin slapping against yours.

“Really?” Shigaraki’s pace slows and he leans closer to you so he can reach an arm around and swirl two fingers against your clit. You mewl like a kitten at the unexpected stimulation and he laughs rudely. “Feels so good…can’t believe the heroes don’t want to fuck you like this all the time…”

You shake your head desperately and bury your face in Dabi’s chest, barely noticing him stroking your hair and then reaching down to unzip his pants.

“No, no, I bet that’s what you do as a sidekick, right?” Shigaraki’s thrusts are back to frenzied jerks, and he rubs over your clit just as roughly. “Spread your legs for your hero…you’d make a great personal cocksleeve. Or maybe they rotate you around so every pro hero gets a turn…?”

“No, I don’t! No! Ah— ahnnn…” The denials pierce the air uselessly as the villain’s cock fills you up again and again. You’re not a whore, you’re not…even if it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the growing pressure of Shigaraki teasing your clit in time with his cock rubbing against your sweet spot. It still hurts—he’s so big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had sex with before, but there’s no way you’re going to admit to yourself that it’s starting to feel good.

“…Is my cock better than All Might’s?” Shigaraki’s words are cut off by his own grunt of pleasure as your cunt twitches around him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Dabi cuts in. “I’m sick of hearing a guy’s voice moaning. I’m going to get soft.”

Past the point of comprehending the situation, you look up at him gratefully, only to reel back in shock as Dabi frees his own cock from his pants and it brushes against your cheek. Trying to pull away from him is more instinct than rational thought, but he holds you just as easily as before and forces two fingers into your mouth. You tense, ready to bite down, (and hopefully take a few knuckles off) but he sees it coming and suddenly your mouth is horribly burning hot.

“You’re going to suck my cock now,” says Dabi conversationally, extinguishing the flame almost as soon as he started it. It’s not so bad—probably more like a coffee burn than anything else—but you’re coughing and spitting anyway. “Say yes.”

“…Yes,” you whisper, voice barely intelligible.

“Good little sidekick. And you’re going to be very careful. You’re not going to use teeth.”

You nod, unable to mount a defense with Shigaraki mercilessly fucking you from behind.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Y-Yes!” you squeal as Shigaraki finds a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

“Good.” Dabi drags your head down to hover over his cock and massages your jaw until it falls open. “Suck.”

One of his hands falls to your shoulder to try to stabilize you, but you can’t help feeling the threat in the motion. You quickly duck down and attempt to ignore the heady smell of sweat and precum as you trace your tongue up the underside of his dick. He’s big too, maybe thicker than Shigaraki, and you hate yourself for feeling lucky that it’s not this cock inside your pussy right now.

The stunt Dabi pulled burning your mouth made you salivate, and you let drool coat your tongue as you lick around the head. But it’s not working—you rock forward every time Shigaraki stuffs his dick back in your aching pussy, and Dabi’s cock smears over your mouth haphazardly.

“I said suck. Not lick.” Suddenly (although you don’t know why you keep expecting some kind of warning before these villains find a new way to violate you), Dabi grabs the back of your head and shoves his cock into your mouth. Your throat constricts involuntarily as the thick head triggers your gag reflex, and all three of you shiver in unison.

“Do…do that again,” Shigaraki says, voice strained. “She tightens up…when you do that.”

Dabi smirks and thrusts into you again, relishing the warm, humid cavern of your throat around his cock along with the pure swell of energy from your quirk enhancing his. His rhythm matches Shigaraki’s and his cock hits the back of your throat with every rapid pump, making you gag and clench like you’re trying to milk the cum out of him. What a perfect little slut… He can see from Shigaraki’s sloppy movements that you’re squeezing around his cock every time too.

The feeling of having one villain cock buried in your pussy while another ravages your throat is unthinkable, even more so with Shigaraki’s fingers on your clit coaxing out an earth-shaking orgasm. But you’d almost be able to forget what’s happening—god knows you’re delirious with sensation, barely able to keep track of who’s doing what to you—if not for the sound. The wet slap of Shigaraki’s hips against your ass, the horrible squelching from your (dripping wet, even if you don’t want to admit it) pussy as his cock pistons in and out of you, your choked moans and gagging noises, and above it all, the unrestrained voices of the villains fucking into you.

You feel like a fuck toy, a sex doll, used without mercy by the two most evil people you can think of…and you’re about to cum.

Your voice is getting louder by the second, and the pulsing of your cunt around Shigaraki’s cock is telling him exactly how close you are. He curls his body over yours to get a better angle to rub your clit, enjoying your high-pitched whine in response. “Yeah…that’s right…good girl. Cum on my cock…like a good little sidekick.”

You keen and goosebumps rise on your skin as Shigaraki licks at the sheen of sweat on your back. He feels your climax almost as soon as you do… If your scream wasn’t stifled by Dabi’s dick in your mouth, everyone within a one-mile radius would know you were getting fucked silly, yeah? The walls of your pussy clamp down on Shigaraki’s cock, your body begging for his cum, and he grips your ass to make sure you can’t get away as he comes to his own orgasm inside of you.

Fuck… Shigaraki could die right now and be happy. He keeps stroking your clit, knowing it’s cruel, knowing you’ll be overstimulated and sensitive and that it’ll hurt to keep touching you like this after you already came, and not caring because every time the tips of his fingers push that little magic button, you shiver and squeeze him like you’re trying to milk him dry.

Shigaraki gives a few last thrusts, pushing his cum deeper into your body, fucking it into you so you’ll be dripping white for hours, and then finally pulls out. The slurping sound your cunt makes as his cock leaves your pussy is obscene. So is the cloudy trail of mixed white and clear fluid that connects your pussy and the head of his cock until he pulls it away. He loves it.

Knowing that Shigaraki came—inside you, no less, the inconsiderate bastard—Dabi grips the back of your head and tugs you down to deepthroat him. Your walls twitch involuntarily and Dabi groans, letting himself shoot his load down your throat. “Yes…yeah…yeah…just like that. Swallow.”

You don’t swallow. You don’t do anything but gag on his cum and gasp as he thrusts into you. Dabi pulls you off of him, annoyed and ready to threaten you into submission again…until your head lolls to the side and he can see that your eyes are closed.

“Shit, she passed out.”

“…What? Are you kidding?”

Dabi slaps your face lightly. You wince in your sleep but don’t wake up. “Nope. Must’ve been when she came the second time.”

“Is she…” Shigaraki trails off, not sure how to end the question. ‘Okay’ isn’t exactly right.

“She’s breathing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The two of them wait for a moment, but you don’t move. When he catches his breath, Shigaraki wipes off his dick and pulls up his pants. Dabi does the same. Without them holding you, you flop down into the fetal position on the broken concrete. “What now?” Shigaraki asks.

Dabi wipes the sweat from his forehead. “You tell me, leader. I’m surprised Kurogiri hasn’t opened another warp gate to get you back. Guessing you don’t have your phone either?”

“…We can go to Giran’s place to meet up. They’re probably waiting for us there,” Shigaraki says, scratching at his neck.

“Do you have cab fare?”

“I don’t have my wallet on me. You?”

“Not enough for a cab. We’ll have to take the train. You can owe me.”

Shigaraki looks down at you. You make a pitiful scene, naked except for your boots, sports bra, and cum-soaked panties. Your neck is bruised red and purple, and you’re shaking, shivering in the cool air now that the sun has sunk further toward the horizon and you’re not being touched. “Are we going to leave her here?”

“What, you want to bring her on the train with us? You don’t think that’s gonna look suspicious?”

“Well…” Their eyes meet and Shigaraki knows Dabi’s thinking the same thing he is. You have a lot of potential as an asset. They haven’t even had the chance to see how your quirk boosting works in combat, but Shigaraki almost wants to pick a fight just to give it a try.

And fighting power aside, Shigaraki isn’t a fan of the possibility that he’ll never get to fuck you again.

“Yeah, I know. But she’s a pro hero’s sidekick. She can’t be too hard to find.” Dabi shrugs off his coat and crouches next to you. You’re limp enough that he has no trouble lifting you into his lap and guiding your arms through the sleeves of his coat. Once you’re wrapped in the black fabric, he does up the buttons, combs through your hair with his fingers, wipes the mixed cum and spittle off your chin, and admires his handiwork. Sure, anyone looking closely at you will know at least a little about what happened—you’re still sweating in the cold, you have that undeniable ‘just got fucked’ look all over you, and the smell of sex is overpowering. But at least you won’t have to walk back to the rescue tent in your filthy underwear.

In your sleep, you nuzzle into Dabi’s chest, reaching blindly toward the source of warmth. He grins and strokes the back of your neck, soothing warm fingers over the bruised skin there and enjoying his last opportunity to touch you and feel your quirk working…for now, at least. “You know, I wonder why villains don’t get sidekicks. Seems a little unfair, right?”

Shigaraki’s sneer matches Dabi’s as he bends down to run his fingernails over your cheek, almost hard enough to hurt. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

Hey~~ could you write Annie x reader? What I had in mind was towards the end of s1 when Annie was trying to climb up the wall, could she try and take reader with her because they always talked about being together? Kinda like when Ymir took Historia in s2, and I really love your writings 💕 thanks~

TAsdfhjksfadh you didn’t specify whether Annie made it over the wall with the reader or not so uh I just kinda picked one lol hope you don’t mind

Also, sorry this is a little late, I've been feeling just a little sick for the past couple of days.

Prove It

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: Season 3 spoilers

Category: Mostly angst, little fluff

Summary: When Annie was outed as the Female Titan, she didn’t have a lot of options on where to go. And, as the fight between her and Eren progresses, it becomes clear her best option is to flee. Yet, there’s just one thing she can’t leave without. And it seems the feeling’s mutual.

Words: 3.1K

That wicked laughter.

It rung through the empty streets of Stohess, abandoned specifically for this military operation.

The goal? To lure out the suspected Female Titan, Annie Leonhart. Your girlfriend.

At first, you were violently against participating in the operation. You weren’t going to incriminate her, that would be incredibly faithless. Really, you wanted nothing more than for her to be vindicated, and to prove the the world the the “heartless” Annie Leonhart is a loyal soldier, not the traitorous snake they started to make of her.

It got in your head, most certainly. Within hours of the first discussion, ‘Annie Leonhart’ and ‘Female Titan’ had become synonymous with each other, and you hated every bit of it. You always defended her fiercely, because you could only hear so much distasteful talk towards her before you started to broil over with rage.

So, you agreed. You were going to lure Annie down in to the tunnel and prove once and for all that she wasn’t a monster. You could clear her of suspicion, and the two of you would go back to your ordinary lives with each other.

And oh, if only that was what happened.

But you watched in horror as Annie refused to go down the tunnel. She laughed, laughed, when you pleaded with her to follow you, that all she needed to do was come along with you to be unshackled from the scrutiny and doubt.

But her feet remained planted in her rigid stance of defense.

“Y/n...” She slurred out, laughter finally subsiding. “I’m glad I could be a good person to you.”

The slope of fear seemed to lose it’s steadiness, and the drop-off into the pit of empty horror occurred when she held up her hand to her mouth, preparing herself for the bloodshed to follow.

“You’ve won your bet. But this is where my bet begins...!”

The signal flare fired, and the countless soldiers waiting in ambush jumped from all angles. You watched, wide-eyed and frozen, as they restrained her and gagged her, like muzzling a dog. But, it was no use. Her ring, the silver ring she never let you touch, sprung up a spike out of it’s side, and a quick slide of her thumb across the tip opened up a bloody gash in her finger.

And then came the lightning.

Mikasa had thrown her arms around you and Armin, dragging you down into the tunnel to get out of harm’s way of the transformation.

You knew she had finished her transformation when the thundering stopped, and chunks of debris rolled to a stop at your feet, stirred dust slowly settling itself back onto the stone ground. For a moment, everything stilled, and only the ragged breaths of Armin and the sheathing of Mikasa’s blades were audible.

And then something moved.

You weren’t sure what it was, until around the corner, the light was consumed by a large shadow, growing closer and closer and absorbing more of the sunlight until it rounded the corner.

A fingertip. Then the finger. Then the hand. An arm—and it was traveling down the hallway, fingers frozen in a pose as if it were trying to grab onto something, something it couldn’t see.

“Shit!” You let out a terrified yelp and took off running, Mikasa hot on your tail and Armin stumbling closely behind.

It sought after the three of you, until a distant thump could be heard. You whipped your head around and stopped running, noticing the hand—ever present, it’s finger stretched desperately in an attempt at grabbing something, but it was no use. You caught a glance of it’s upper arm, flush against the wall of the curve.

She couldn’t reach any farther.

You let out of a sigh of relief, falling to your knees and gazing at it. It’s shaking fingers stopped, finally, and went limp into it’s palm in defeat, before slowly pulling itself out. You had no clue whether it was trying to grab you, or Armin, or Mikasa, or if it was planning on killing you or not. Bottom line, it was unsuccessful.

But then more thunder.

It seems Eren finally got his cue, because the signature yellow hues of transformation shone even into the dark abyss of the wrecked tunnel.

The three of you took a deep breath and shared a collective glance. Before long, the unsaid instructions were followed, and the three of you scurried out of the tunnel to witness the action.

And action it was—the first sight you were greeted with upon exiting was that of Annie delivering a decisive punch to Eren’s jaw, sending him flying backwards into the streets of Stohess.

Eren returned to his feet as fast as he could, and let out a menacing roar as he charged at Annie, arms low like a football player preparing to pounce on something.

He charged, but her feet remained planted, arms bracing for impact.

You watched as the two of them brawled furiously. You didn’t even notice that Mikasa and Armin had left your side—you hadn’t moved. You couldn’t find it in your heart to fight Annie, but neither were you going to fight Eren. No, all you could do was watch, helpless.

The battle continued fiercely, absolutely wrecking the city in the process. Building were destroyed and crumpled, streets of stone completely upended as one or the other got helplessly tossed around.

It came to a head as the fight eventually progressed to a wide, open space of stone, and the two of them were fighting hand to hand, both of them looking worse for wear. You shot your ODM gear into the roof of a nearby building, watching the fight with a slacked jaw. You had no clue how Eren was even standing a chance to Annie, since you yourself had seen how skilled she was in martial arts.

Soon, though, a decisive kick to Annie shin sent debris and rocks flying everywhere. Annie lost her footing, tumbling to the ground with a thump.

And you had been so fixated on Annie in that moment that you failed to notice the debris, and it was headed right towards your face.

Something—rigid and powerful—collided with your head, and you fell to the ground instantly.

Your vision was already fading, and you watched as tiny streams of crimson flowed over the shingles and down the roof—no doubt stemming from the newly opened gash on your scalp.

The distant clinking of the rock as it tumbled down the slope of the roof was the last thing you heard, and the world around you faded to black.

---

Through the darkness, a memory flashed through your mind.

---

It was dark out, of course it was. Shadis would never let you have leisure time at all when the sun was up.

You leaned against an lone oak tree, fingers brushing through the soft grass idly. The air was cold and crisp, and a soft breeze flowed through the air, just barely enough to rustle your soft hair.

Annie sat silently next to you, shoulder brushing up against yours. Slowly, she slinked her hand over yours, hesitantly grasping at your hand. You entwined your fingers with hers, and she looked away shyly.

She often had bouts of insomnia, lying awake at night for hours, unable to get her body to relax. And, the first night she tugged at your nightshirt, waking you up to go outside with her, she fell asleep in your arms due to exhaustion almost immediately.

So, it had become an unspoken ritual from that day on. She couldn’t sleep, she’d wake you up, the two of you would go outside, and talk or busy yourselves until sleep inevitably caught up to her.

But today was different. For whatever reason, something had been keeping her up for a lot longer than usual. You knew something was weighing down on her heavily, but you weren’t going to pry it out of her.

Deciding to break the tense silence, you squeezed her hand gently, getting her attention before you spoke.

“It’s nice out, isn’t it?” You observed. You weren’t talking about the weather per-say, but the thousands of white speckled stars that dotted the sky, and the bright, full moon that illuminated the grass and dirt beneath you.

“It’s cold.” She said bluntly.

You chuckled softly, her bleak attitude was so characteristic of her.

“I guess that’s true.”

More silence.

And then she sighed, bringing your hand into her lap to cusp it in both of her palms, clinging onto it as if it were grounding her.

“What do you plan on doing later in life, Y/n?” She huffed, leaning her head backwards against the back of the tree and gazing up at the sky. “You don’t possibly plan on staying in the military your whole life, do you?”

“No, of course not.” You sighed.

“Then do you have plans afterwards?”

You paused for a minute. She raised a good point, you didn’t really think of anything after the military. Deep down, perhaps you understood that by joining the Cadet Corps you didn’t have much ahead of you. You can only survive so many brushes with death before it’s your turn to go.

“I guess not...” You hesitated, deep in thought. You swallowed a lump in your throat before changing the subject. “Why, do you?”

Even through the darkness, you could feel the shrug of her shoulders against you.

“Not really.” She muttered. “Just... stay with the MPs, make a living wage, retire somewhere in the interior, and... relax. I just wanna... find somewhere to relax.”

She paused for a second. Clearly there’s something tugging at her mind, something she wants to say. So, you sit back and wait for her to find the confidence.

“Do you promise me that... sometime, after a while in the Scouts, that you’ll come back to be with me?”

The future between the two of you was always painted with uncertainty—whether the two of you could ever truly stay together. It would be difficult, between soldiers, to be able to settle down and stay together no matter what, especially from different regiments. But you could always try.

She exhaled shakily, struggling to get the words out of her throat.

“I just can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you. ‘Cause... if anything ever happened to you in the Scouts...” Her voice trailed off near the end, and you assumed she was trying to plan out her next words carefully, until you heard a small sniffle pass her lips.

Surprised, you turned to face her. She was trying to fight off the tears at the corners of her eyes, lip trembling as she struggled not to cry. It wasn’t until now that you realized just how tightly she gripped your hand.

“Annie- Annie it’s alright.” You stumbled, trying to comfort her. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was upsetting her—she was scared of living a life without you.

You hooked an arm around her lower back, pulling her closer to you and putting your other hand on the back of her head and guiding her to your shoulder.

“I promise you, no matter what, I’ll live. And one day, we can spend all our time together. I’ll go wherever you go, I swear.” You ran your hand through her hair, undoing the bun she kept it in and evening it out over her shoulders.

“You promise?” Her voice sounded shaky and weak, a vulnerability to it that she rarely showed. “No matter what happens to me, you’ll trust me and stay with me?”

“I promise. Of course I do.”

---

Warmth.

It was the first thing you noticed upon waking up. The second was darkness. You sat up, noticing how wet the surface beneath you was. And how how fleshy.

Your face paled in realization. You were in a titan's mouth.

You raised your arm up, cringing at the trail of saliva that connected you to her tongue.

Immediately, you searched for a way to get out. You didn't plan on leaving her behind, but you'd rather not be stuck in a place as slimy and dark as this either. However, your efforts were pointless, since her jaw was clamped shut, her teeth caging you in and preventing you from escaping. Your heart dropped a little, wondering if she didn't trust you not to run away.

Suddenly, you felt a large thump, the unexpected movement causing you to grab desperately at anything that would keep you grounded in one spot.

But then, another thump. And another, and another. It felt like running, almost, but far too slow. You pondered it for a moment, before you realized what was going on.

She was trying to climb the wall.

But then, the thumping stopped. She wasn't falling, thank god, but all movement has seized.

Hesitantly, her jaw started to open, giving ample space for you to squeeze through. A sudden thought came to you—she needed your help.

With no hesitation, you drew your blades and burst through the skin of her cheek, not even waiting for her to part for lips. Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you immediately search for the source of the problem. And you found it in the brute of a soldier, Mikasa Ackerman.

The girl was perched on Annie's nose, staring down at her. A quick glance to your side and you realized, with horror written all over your face, that Mikasa had cut off almost all of Annie's fingers—one more and Annie would easily lose her grip.

You understood, as soon as Mikasa drew her blades towards Annie's hand, you only had one option.

You shot your ODM gear towards her, not even caring when the hook dug into Mikasa's shoulder, causing her to yelp in pain as she turned to you.

She wasn't even given a moment to process as you came hurtling towards her, colliding with her shoulder and sending both of you flying through the air and towards the ground—fast.

Despite the small voice telling you that it would be easier to just ditch Mikasa, to release your ODM gear and let her fall, you shot the other hook into the wall, and your momentum halted to a stop.

She peeled her arms away from their protective guard around her head, processing that the two of you had stopped before looking up to you in surprise. You looked back down at her, an expression of sorrow in your eyes. It hurt you to betray her, and all of your comrades, like this, but you knew as soon as Annie placed her trust in you by opening her mouth that you only had one choice.

"Y/n what are y—!"

"I'm sorry Mikasa!" You yelled, trying to put aside your emotions for the time being. "I can't... I can't leave her, I promised I wouldn't!"

You took a deep breath, positioning on your finger on the trigger, preparing to release Mikasa from your ODM gear's bloody grip in her shoulder. "I'm sorry..." You muttered, before pulling the trigger, watching Mikasa tumbled towards the ground, her betrayed expression still glued helplessly on her face.

You decided that it would only hurt you to look at Mikasa—engraining that image into your head would certainly plague you later on.

You finally turned to look back at Annie, and your heart picked up a couple paces at the sight.

Her head was turned to you, watching—waiting—for you, her hand outstretched in your direction. You smiled, firing your ODM and flying into the palm of her hand, quickly climbing up onto her shoulder to allow her to finish her ascent up the wall.

You turned back one last time, looking over at the destroyed city, and the furious and betrayed faces of your comrades. You sighed, turning back around. That's in the past now, you thought. It doesn't matter. I... made a promise to Annie, I can't betray her. I can't...

---

The line of trees in the distance grew closer and closer as Annie jogged forwards, having made it over the wall and all the way to the forest inside Wall Maria.

She slowed down to a walking pace as she neared the trees, kneeling on the ground before releasing herself from the nape of her titan. Steam flowed from her body as she immediately collapsed forwards, and you instantly lurched forwards to catch her exhausted body in your arms.

"Grab on." You instructed, waiting for her to securely wrap herself around you before you flew through the air and onto a tree branch, making sure you were safely out of the reach of any mindless titans before you let go of her.

She took a deep breath, leaning against the wooden trunk of the tree to recollect her strength. After all, even as a titan, the fight had done numbers to her body.

You sat there in comfortable silence for a little bit, waiting for her to catch her breath while you idly readjusted the straps to your ODM gear.

Finally, she reached over to take your hand, grabbing it in both of hers just like she had during your conversation with her years ago.

"I'm so glad..." She sighed, voice weak and wavering. "I was so scared when I opened my mouth that you would just... run off without me."

Slowly, she shifted, wrapping her arms around your neck and leaning her entire body weight on you. You could feel some of the tension leaving her body as she sighed against you, burying her nose in the crook of your neck.

"I was terrified that if you found out my real identity, you would just leave me. I don't know how I would've handled it. I was just..." She took a shaky inhale as she continued, and you felt a few wet tears against your neck. "Scared. So... So scared..."

You set a comforting hand on her back, hugging her tighter in an attempt to sooth her.

"Annie..." You cooed in her ear. "I promised you, remember? I would never leave your side. I'm gonna stay with you for the rest of my life."

Her breathing started to calm against you, your words managing to ease her worries.

"Yeah," She sighed, pulling away from you. "I shouldn't have doubted you, sweetie."

You smiled and placed your hands on her shoulders, bringing her in for a quick kiss before wiping her tears with the back of your hand.

"It's fine. Just remember," You leaned in and hugged her, exuding a warm feeling that made Annie's heart swell with love. "I'll always be on your side, no matter what."

"God, I love you so much, you dork." She muttered, heat rising to her cheeks with a content smile.

You chuckled, "I love you, too."

MAN THIS IS ASS

This is what happens when you force yourself to write with a headache whoops haha

[freewayshark]

buddie fic masterpost

look into your heart and you’ll find love - 11895 total words - complete

It starts after Eddie’s Abuela breaks her hip.

Not an auspicious start, and certainly not a sexy one, but after Buck introduces him to Carla he’s so damn grateful he barely waits for the door to shut behind her before he’s crowding Buck up against the kitchen counter and dropping to his knees.

-or-

Eddie falls into a friends with benefits relationship with Buck, and then he just keeps falling.

All short prompt fills can be found here!

white lights in your arms tonight - 2594 words - rated t - complete

Buck crowds in next to him, wrapping his shirt around the debris and then pressing down to staunch the flow of blood Eddie now realizes is oozing out around it. He squints at the debris, trying to identify it.

“Guess Chim’s not going to be the only rebar boy anymore,” he jokes when he realizes that’s what it is.

dying with an idiot - 731 words - rated g - complete

ficlet based on the prompt "“I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

i've been thinking 'bout the way you smile, golden - 1767 words - rated e - complete

There is very little that Eddie loves more than mornings like this, where it’s just a little too cold in their bedroom, but perfectly warm under the blankets, and Buck’s arm is wrapped around his waist, palm broad and warm on his skin where his hand had snuck up under the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. Eddie can feel his breath, soft, even puffs exhaled against the back of his neck, the quietest hints of a snore every once in a while.

-or-

Buck and Eddie have soft morning sex, and Eddie has an epiphany

must be some kind of twist, I could get used to this - 38794 words - rated e - complete

He doesn’t remember much from last night, even less after the fourth or fifth tequila shot. So he certainly doesn’t remember bringing someone back to his room.

He steels himself for the lancing pain and cracks his eyes open.

Oh. Oh no.

This is either really bad or… Well, not really good, but just. Not really bad, and that’s probably all Buck can ask for it to be.

Because Eddie is in his bed, Eddie’s arm is wrapped around his waist, Eddie’s legs are tangled with his. And he has no idea why.

-or-

Buck and Eddie wake up married in Vegas

safe in your hands - 5053 words - rated e - complete

More muttered cursing. “I’m unpacking the damn bag. I’ll repack it myself, but I’m tired of tripping over the fucking thing.”

Eddie scrubs at a plate, ignoring Buck’s theatrics. If he wants to unpack Eddie’s bag for him then let him. He can deal with the shirts, and socks, and underwear, and–

Oh shit.

The plate almost slips out of Eddie’s hand and he barely has the presence of mind to stick it in the rinse water before he’s sprinting up the stairs.

“Buck, wait–” he gets out, the words dying on his tongue as he reaches the top and has his worst fear realized.

Because Buck is standing there over the duffel open on the bed, fingers curled around the base of Eddie’s purple dildo.

a voice in the dark - 1697 words - rated g - complete

Linda appears at Eddie’s side just as a call wraps up, and he’s already got an easy smile on his face as he turns towards her, an easy smile that drops when he sees her expression.

“What is it?” He demands, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“I got a call, Eddie, asking for you personally. It’s Buck.”

the phone rings, my heart beats - 9432 words - rated m

10 phone calls after Eddie leaves the 118, and Buck decides he won't let them drift apart.

here we are, after it all - 2856 words - rated e

Buck leans against the wall of the elevator and watches Eddie with a smile. Eddie’s a little drunk, undeniably so, considering half an hour ago he’d sat down on Buck’s lap and kissed the breath out of him in full view of the entire reception, but he’s also just so—

Happy.

It’s a look that’s more and more familiar on Eddie’s face every day, and Buck’s heart swells with the knowledge that right now, it’s there because of him.

what my heart used to dream of - 9290 words - rated g

Two weeks to the day that Eddie returns from Texas, Buck shows up on his doorstep with a duffel bag and a nervous smile.

“Why did you knock?” Eddie asks suspiciously.

“Because letting myself in with my key feels a bit presumptuous when I’m here to ask if I can crash on your couch for an indeterminate amount of time.”

Eddie bites back the gut instinct to say as if you have to ask. “Of course you can. Why, though?” He adds as he steps aside. 

Buck heaves a world weary sigh as he drops his bag next to the couch and then plops down on the cushions.

“Taylor and I broke up.”

And many more on ao3 here

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Just one Island…Watch it fall: Part 3.

*With his blades spinning in his hands, Akira takes steps towards the group of girls.

I’ll say it one more time...Stop resisting and give up your people. 

You say that...but you’re not so sure of your chances against us, are you?

...!

Not only are we the Remnants of Despair, but we’re also Ultimate's. Those two alone make us extremely unpredictable. And this is hardly the first time we’ve taken down Ultimate Despair Agents.

How can you hope to stop us when you’re not even sure of what it is we’re going to do?

This isn’t just about trying to stop you getting to our friends! It’s also about not letting you leave this island in one piece!

We dedicate our lives to destroying the despair that we unwittingly brought unto the world. We are not going to allow you and Organization Zetsubou to bring it back into ruin.

Kehehe...Haha...!

HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAH! *WHEEZE!* KEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

WH-What the hell!? What’s so funny!?

Nothing, it’s just...! I can see why it is Narumi gets so excited over the prospects of fights now! I’m glad you’re so determined to give it your all! Anything less would be BORING!

That said...You’re still not gonna defeat me...!

I wouldn’t be so sure. Without that stupid hoola hoop of yours, you don’t have anything to take us down with. Look at you! You’re just skin and bones!

And we’ve got Mahiru’s camera and hacking guns to disable it!

*sigh* Yeah, that’s kinda annoying. That camera’s certainly a unique lil’ tool. And that’s why...

Wha-HAAAH!

MAHIRU!?

She’s gonna be the FIRST to die!

*Against anyone’s expectations, two pieces of the ring suddenly circle back around and piece Mahiru’s shoulders, rocketing her straight up in the air! Akira also launches himself upward after her with his ring pieces carrying him.

WOOOH!

UGH! AAOUGH!

*SMASH!*

*Akira punches Mahiru round the face, then uses his weapon to send them flying into the distance. They crash into the second island library.

But you’re not gonna be the last...

Negh!

*Mahiru smacks Akira away and rushes down the alley.

Where are you going!?

Yah!

*Mahiru ducks as the pieces of the ring barely hit her, slicing through her short hair.

HHNNGH!

*She grabs a nearby bookshelf and thrusts whole weight into it, causing them to topple over like dominos.

Really!?

*Akira reassembles the hoop and slices through the bookshelves like they’re paper. 

ACK! YEAAAAAAGH!

*The hoops pieces hook themselves to Mahiru again and launch her through the library ceiling. In the distance, Peko and the others make their way as fast as they can over to her.

This is bad! He’s going to kill her!

What do we do!?

...!

...!

Don’t worry...! She knows what she’s doing!

Huh?

*ZZZZRRRK!*

*Akira basically slices the whole library to ribbons, and as Mahiru falls, she rolls on top of the falling debris. While she’s airborne, Akira flies in as fast as he can.

Let’s end this!

*catch!*

!!!?

And now...

*WHOOSH!*

SAY CHEESE!

*SNAP!*

OH SHIIIIIT!

*Akira doesn’t see it coming. He goes in for a punch, but Mahiru catches his fist. He then maneuvers himself behind her, but Mahiru predicts this attack, whirls around and snaps him with her camera. Akira’s weapon is immediately disabled and they both fall a long way to the ground.

CATCH ME CATCH ME CATCH ME!

HOOYAH!

*Peko leaps into the air and catches Mahiru before she smashes to the ground.

*CRAASSH!*

AAHAAGH!

*Akira isn’t so lucky. He falls into a pile of rubble and the pieces of his ring clatter to the ground beside him.

I told you! Without that weapon, you’re NOTHING!

Nggrgh...! You...bitch...!

Sorry!? I can’t hear you! Stand up and say that to my face you loser!

Yeah! Where was all that bravado you had before!? Was that all a failed attempt at intimidation!?

You act all sure and casual about everything, but it doesn’t make you mature! In fact you’re quite the opposite! Like an overconfident egotistic little brat.

...!

*The pieces finally regain energy and they reassemble back into swords. Akira grabs them and they pull him to his feet.

Talk as much shit as you want...! You’re not gonna-

*SLASH!*

ECK!

I’m sorry? What were you saying?

Hngh!

...!

*Before Akira can launch himself forward, Peko jumps towards him and slices him across the chest. Akira briefly clutches his wound then throws his blades at Peko, who dodges both of them.

*POW!* *POW!*

!!??

*WHAM!*

UGH! 

Do us all a favor and GO DOWN ALREADY!

*After Peko dodges the swords, Hiyoko shoots both of them with the hacking gun, sending them clattering to the ground in pieces. Defenseless because being unable to recall them, Akira cannot block an ensuing kick to the ribs from the kimono-clad dancer.

HEEE!

!!!

*Akira then reaches up and has to push into Mikan, as she brings a huge syringe down upon him.

I don’t care who or what you are! I’m not gonna be satisfied until I run this jab through you!

You think I’m scared of some little girl with some giant ass syringe!?

MIKAN! GET BACK!

HAAH!

*With Ibuki’s shout, Mikan jumps back in time to avoid Akira recalling his ring.

Where are-!?

*SMASH!*

AHACK!

*CRASH!* *BASH!* *BANG!*

*As Akira lurches to his feet, Ibuki goes crazy on him, smacking him in the face and body with her guitar weapon.

You might think you’re above everyone else, but you’re just like all the other boys.

You think you’re special, or that you’ve got some special power, but I’ve never fought a real battle a day in my life, and I could STILL kick your ass!

Why you-!

*SNAP!*

!!!??

*Mahiru once again disables Akira’s ring before he can attack Ibuki with it.

Nice one Mahiru!

*SMASH!*

AHACK!

Pekoyama Art...KIERU!

*SLASH!*

GAAGH! YAAAAGH! AH!?

Mikan!

GOT IT!

*SPAT!!*

AAHCK!

*Everything happens too fast.  Ibuki gives another wallop to Akira, and sends him flying. While he’s soaring through the air, Peko readies her blade and gives Akira another hard slash with it. When steadying himself, Hiyoko suddenly ties his hands behind his back with a ribbon and then kicks him forward, allowing Mikan to stab him in the leg with her needle! Akira collapses on the floor.

Hnggh...GAGH!

...

*He tries to get up, but Mahiru stamps on his chest and pins him to the ground.

Go ahead. Call back that weapon of yours. I dare you to.

...

*Akira looks around as Peko, Ibuki, Mikan, Hiyoko and Mahiru all loom over him.

*sigh* Hehehehe...

*He lets his head hang back.

I got my ass beat by a buncha girls...Narumi’ll never let me hear the end of this...

I gotta admit. I know I was talking a lot of smack, but that was seriously a lot easier than I thought it’d be.

Yeah, for the final boss, that was pretty easy.

I don’t like it. Is this really the same threat that killed Fujimori and is trying to take over the world?

Rub salt in my wound why don’t you? And I’ll have you know it’s the boss that’s the one trying to take over the world and make this Killing Game happen.

By “the boss” you mean Tsumugi Shirogane, don’t you? 

If you don’t care about her killing game, why are you still helping her with it?

What the hell else am I supposed to do? Go back to trolling Reddit and Twitter users? Nah...This is way more fun...

...Fun...?

Hm? GAAHACK!

Mikan!

*Mikan suddenly runs her syringe through Akira’s chest. She on purposefully misses his heart or lungs, but he still feels the pain.

You disrupt the lives of innocent people just for fun and games? Are you serious!?

Oh come now...as ex-terrorists, you gotta *SPLUTTER!* admit there’s...merit to wrecking shit, don’t ya?

Are you BEGGING to be killed!?

Not really...Dying...sucks...Still though, even if I do somehow die here, no one’s gonna care. It’s not like my role here matters.

Wh-What does that mean?

There’s something you girls got wrong...

*Akira suddenly points to the sky.

I...am not the final boss...

!!?

EVERYONE GET BACK-!

*CRAASSSSH!!!

*SCREAMING!*

*A massive impact suddenly bursts down from the sky and blows the whole group backwards!

HUP! HAH! YAH!

Hajime! Nekomaru!

*Before any of the girls can feel the impact, Hajime and Nekomaru suddenly arrive and catch them before they land.

Are you ok!?

eh...kinda...? Ibuki?

I teenk may brain jus commeeted sooside!

She’s fine.

Wh-What even WAS that?

Everyone get behind me.

...

*The dust cloud settles and the masked figure emerges from it.

Tsuchiya. Are you alright?

Hm...I dunno...

*He sarcastically looks down at his wounds.

No, I don’t think I am?

Then tag out. Stop waffling and go and complete your mission. Taking these guys out was MY job.

Sorry...Got carried away...

There’s a secret passage underneath the island that leads to the docks. Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko are probably travelling through there. You can get inside it from the hotel.

!!!??

H-How did he-!?

Oh sweet. Thanks man.

*Akira picks himself up with his rings, and then flies through the sky towards the hotel.

Oh no you don’t!

*Mahiru aims with her camera, but before she can take a picture.

*WHAAAMMMM!!*

!!!!!!???

MAHIRUUUU!!!

*The man in the mask rushes forward and delivers a huge kick straight Mahiru’s jaw! She rockets straight into the brick rubble and is taken out immediately! The figure flips back through the air.

Sorry, but this was all part of the contract. Now tell me, who would like to step up next?

!!!??

!!!??

!!!??

!!!??

!!!??

!!!??

*Everyone else is left speechless and motionless faced with the sheer presence of the masked man.

As I thought...You might all be talented and powerful, but you’re ALL cowards. You never use your abilities for the right purpose when it matters.

...You’re wrong...That sort of thing only applies to me...!

Hm?

*Hajime nods to Mikan, who rushes over to Mahiru and tends to her wounds, digging her out of the rubble. Hajime turns back to Nagito.

Mahiru created that special weapon so that she could utilize her talent in a way that no one else would ever even think of. You’re WRONG to say that she’s too shallow with her usage of it!

The same goes for Ibuki! And Mikan! And everyone else! You have no right to call any of them cowards, especially when you hide behind that stupid mask and won’t show your face!

Go on! I dare you to take it off! Show us EXACTLY what you’ve become...! Nagito Komaeda!

*Dead silence fills the air after Hajime’s proclamation.

N-...Nagi...to?

You’re saying that that man...is Nagito...?

Hajime figured it out almost instantly...I couldn’t believe it myself.

...You’re naturally pretty perceptive...That much I’ll give you...Unless you’re just relying on those Ultimate Talents of yours.

But...WHY Nagito? Why would you sign up with Organization Zetsubou!? They’re evil, and they stand for everything you oppose!

Who are you to tell me what I do and don’t oppose!? It’s not out of the question that people would grow and evolve, and turn their backs on old ideals. In fact, ever since I met YOU, everything I’ve ever stood for has come into question!

*He points at Hajime.

And you can’t accept that, can you?

Let’s just say this isn’t me falling into Despair...It’s my own special version of finding Hope...You want to see me take off the mask Hinata? Well, don’t start crying when you don’t like what you see...

*Nagito removes his armor and his helmet.

...

*Hajime staggers backwards. His worst fears proving to have become very real in an instant...

No...you’re...you’re kidding me...!

I don’t...believe this...!

I know you must think very lowly of me for this...But do you recall what it is that I despised about you most Hajime Hinata? It’s the very fact that through thick and thin...

You and I have always been the same...!

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 11

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 11

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2616

Summary: Another dream makes things more clear for the reader and less clear for Sam.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w  b u r n

           The booths are those plastic-coated pressboard swoops that are so easy to clean, one row down either side of the long room once you walk past the counter to order. Like other pizza places, there are red pepper flakes and grated parmesan on the table, but they also keep ranch dressing in a minifridge behind the counter as a concession to Midwestern sensibilities. You know you’re just outside Dayton just like you know the pizza shop is run by a family, father and two older teenage daughters deftly throwing dough and scattering cheese evenly over it in a way that shows their years of practice. Dean sits across the table with his elbows on it, one forefinger and thumb picking through a plate of nachos between you. His black t-shirt, amulet, and lack of flannel make you notice the hum of the air conditioner in the background, straining over the 90’s alternative radio and reminding you that you’d been here in a heat stroke the summer after you and Dean had gotten together, his golden freckles and lightened tips of his slightly messy hair underlining the memory.

           “They don’t serve nachos here.” It’s half statement and half question.

           “Babe, it’s your dream. They’ll serve whatever you want. Does the pizza suck in Wisconsin or something?”

           The two sisters are whispering to each other as they look over at your table, an almost-argument that ends with who you suspect is the older sister poofing a pinch of flour into the other’s face. They’re both cute girls but she’s adorable, soft cherubic cheeks and messy bun piling impossibly glossy hair on her head as she walks over to the table with a gigantic pizza. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks in a perfect welcoming cheerleader pitch.

           “I think we’re good for now, sweetheart,” Dean purrs with a wink. That you remember; you’d playfully chastised Dean for dazzling the teens, laughing in his face when he’d said it wasn’t on purpose, that he couldn’t help it if chicks dug him. The wink had proved your point then and now it makes the girl’s cheeks flush red.

           She catches herself remarkably well, the stammer almost slipping under the radar as she assures you that you can “holler if you need anything!”

           Dean brushes his fingers free of nacho debris and loosens a piece of pizza from the melting cheese of the ones next to it. “Last time you had all kinds of sweet nothings and questions for me and now you’re Silent Cal?”

           “I don’t think this is real, but I’m pretty sure if I push it you’ll either die in this dream or I’ll wake up, so my plan is to stay here as long as we can.”

           He drops the pizza back into the box and wipes off his fingers on a napkin before slouching into the booth, arm stretched across its length. “So test me then. Gimme a question only I would know or something.”

           “Well if I ask you something that I know the answer to, my brain will just project you knowing it. See the problem?”

           Dean squints and pouts in consideration, touch of a smile dancing across his face and if it isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen may you be struck dead right now. “Then ask me something you don’t know the answer to.”

           You think about explaining how that too could just be some part of your subconscious recreation of Dean but you don’t want to keep pulling at loose strings in the event that it wakes you up. It’s too hard to keep from smiling, seeing Dean charming and relaxed like this, and when you grin it makes Dean bite his lip. “What’s something I don’t know the answer to?”

           “Ah, ah—I thought I’m just a hologram, how would I know?”

           “Projection, but okay,” you stall. “Wait, here’s one. Sam said when I first started going on jobs with you guys that you had to have a conversation about staying focused. What was that all about?”

           He runs his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. “Man, why would he tell you that?” he says under his breath, smirking mostly to himself before leaning forward to meet your eyes. “Fine. I’m not even sure that you’re going to remember this. There was a vengeful spirit in Indiana, some like homesteader guy, ring a bell?”

           You have only the vaguest sense of recollection and sort of waggle your head to show it.

           “It was way at the beginning of when you started coming on jobs with us. You and Bobby got into it because he wanted you to bring your own car so you could ditch us if we were ‘acting like cretins’ or some shit like that?”

           That fits the last puzzle piece in for you and makes you chuckle. “He ended up giving me like $250 of mad money in case I needed a new room or a bus ticket, yeah. I remember.”

           “I didn’t know that part but that’s gotta be the same trip. The whole thing was really stupid. Basically we were supposed to have your six but both me and Sammy wanted to carry a shotgun instead of doing that protection spell because it looked cooler. We were arguing about it when the spirit whipped a chunk of the barn’s scaffolding at you and we didn’t catch it in time. You heard it coming and ducked so nothing ended up happening, but it fucking demolished the wall behind you. It was a huge fuckup—thing could’ve taken your head clean off, you know? Sam was so broken up about it he was wasted for like a week solid after we dropped you back off at Bobby’s.”

           “Really? That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

           “I know, usually he does some kind of pouty baby bullshit. But I mean both of us felt really guilty that bitching at each other could’ve taken you out.”

           Dean’s eyes rake over your face, seeming to linger over every inch like he’s going to draw a topographical map of it later by memory. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something but you can’t think of anything other than tracing each of his freckles where they dust across his nose.

           A hand reaches over the table to run his fingertips along the back of yours, and that certainly feels real enough to send an ache into your gut. “What if you ask Sam? If he says that’s not what happened then you can keep saying I’m not real and you don’t have to listen to me.”

           “But he already basically told me that. The only thing I probably wouldn’t have guessed about that is Sam getting drunk about it—these could’ve been just well-informed guesses about when it probably was or the kinds of things it seemed like he was implying.”

           His lips press into a firm line and the barest touch of pink rises in his cheeks. “We, um, we pinky swore on it.”

           The adorableness of his embarrassment makes you grin teasingly as much as the divulgence does. “A pinky promise? You guys must’ve been pretty serious to take such a sacred oath.”

           He rolls his eyes at your ribbing and throws his hands back in his lap with a defeated smirk. “Laugh it up. Would that be good enough proof for you?”

           It seems like Dean has figured out a loophole in the system, but you’re sure the light of day and Sam’s scrutiny will figure out why it isn’t actual evidence of communication with Dean beyond death, and you tell him that.

           A curtain of suspicious confusion falls over Dean’s face. “Sam being weird about it is what’s keeping you from trusting this? Kid, I’ve been talking to Sa—”

           And you woke up.

           The bed was empty next to you but you could smell something sweet in the air and hear the light clinking of pots or pans Sam was trying his best to keep quiet. You blinked back a few tears of frustration—who even cared if it was real or not? Reliving a great memory with Dean was more than enough and instead of enjoying it you’d wasted a chance at some small respite from your constant ache of grief. And even then, you hadn’t used any of your time to figure out how the whole thing worked, how you could see him again.

           But the most pressing issue was what you thought Dean had been trying to say before disappearing; that he had gotten through to Sam. Sam, of course, deserved to have secrets, but if he had been sitting on the resolution to all the angst you’d been struggling through in the last weeks (months?), you couldn’t imagine a reason why that wouldn’t hurt. Nothing would be solved by laying in your bed to sulk about it, though, so you threw on some clothes and went to brush your teeth.

           When you came out, Sam was hunched slightly, the standard stove highlighting his decidedly non-standard height as he shuffled a pan’s handle. He had a dishtowel over his t-shirt clad shoulder, a habit from the bar that sometimes held over when he was in the kitchen at home, and bare feet under old jeans. They were wearing through at the knees, and you knew they were absolutely pajama-soft from having periodically thrown them in with your own laundry. Through the kitchen window, enough snow-brightened sunlight came into the room to cast him in a halo glow that gleamed off of his hair. As long as it had gotten, chunks still swept into his face as he looked down at the stove, and he tucked one behind his ear as he looked up, half-singing a Buddy Guy song that was playing softly. It was stunning—he was stunning, statuesque and strong and right there in front of you. Cooking you breakfast while you slept in, of all things, chocolate chip pancakes he had to have remembered were your favorite from ages ago. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d had them and right now, nothing in the world sounded better. He beamed and tilted the pan toward you. “Morning! I made pancakes, you want some?”

           And you should’ve just let the moment rest, sat in the rare bright winter morning and eaten chocolate chip pancakes and relished how well the boiler was working, maybe later in the day read a predictable murder mystery or taped off the living room to be painted and listened to REM until your shoulders were sore from running rollers up the walls all afternoon. Instead, about as stupid and weird a flop as if a toad had come out of your mouth, you said, “Have you been talking to Dean too?”

           Sam’s face fell but not in the right way. There was too much angle in his brow and that confirmed it. “What?” he asked, but it didn’t land.

           “How long have you been talking to Dean?”

           He kept that curious smile for a second, like maybe he could push through by playing dumb and you would forget, but finally his lips flattened and his jaw clenched as he stacked a finished pancake on top of its predecessors. “Just because I’m having dreams about him doesn’t mean it’s really him,” he finally answered, softly and as though he was telling the bubbling pancake batter in front of him, unable to meet your eyes.

           You felt the lump forming in your throat and tried to get the words out ahead of its solidifying. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

           “For what?” He let go of the pan and turned toward you, supporting his weight on the countertop. “So we can both—”

           “Both what? Be delusional? Is that what you were going to say?”

           Sam didn’t answer, but the set of his jaw was firm and he kept his eyes locked on yours.

           “He told me you were drunk for a week after the hunt you were talking about.” You watched as Sam’s pupils widened a touch. “And that you didn’t just promise each other to buckle down, you pinky swore.” Sam’s Adam’s apple jumped in his throat. “It’s true, isn’t it? I can see in your face that it is. Did you already know it’s really him?”

           He looked down at the floor and clenched his jaw. “I was pretty sure. Or at least I really hoped I was pretty sure.”

           You felt more than consciously allowed your mouth’s falling open. “How? How long?”

           “It just—I don’t know, it just felt different. I—uh, the first time was after we made those cupcakes; he asked about the cupcakes.”

           You slumped against the countertop opposite him, speechless. He shoved the pan off the hot burner a little too hard, put a palm on either side of the stove to brace himself. The two of you stood like that for a long minute, the smell of chocolate not matching the stiff heaviness in the air at all.

           “I don’t—what if it’s not real?” His throat sounded bound even though you couldn’t see his face, hulking mass of him spread across the tiny kitchen.

           He seemed so defeated, so young, and then you couldn’t believe how selfish you’d been, not putting two and two together that something challenging Sam’s grip on or understanding of reality must shove him back to the brain melting torture he’d endured in the cage and the months—years, maybe, he was always so tight-lipped about it—afterward. What the fuck were you thinking, not seeing it before, how this could seem like a perfectly laid trap for Sam, the most poetic way to whip his mind into stiff peaks of meringue. It made so much sense why he would need time to really suss it out, see the situation from all angles and investigate, check and re-check. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away. This was not about you or your complicated need for him, it was about Sam, what he’d been through, what he was likely putting himself through even now.

           “The, um, the pancakes smell really good.”

           “Yeah?” There was half a laugh behind his words, humorless as it was. “I hope they’re okay, I know they’re your, uh, your favorite.”

           “I’m surprised you remembered.”

           Sam leaned on one arm to rub his face with his other hand. “Yeah, well.”

           “Can I help?”

           After a beat, he stood up and offered some space next to him on the stove. You worked hip to hip, sprinkling the chocolate chips while Sam flipped. He was scraping the last of the batter into a last little runt pancake with a spatula when you couldn’t help yourself and wrapped your arms around his waist. He seemed surprised, if sad, before setting down the bowl and covering as much of you as he could, folding over you like a protective shell. It reminded you of that dirty motel room, months and months ago, when Sam held you together as you cracked in his arms. All he could do then was be steadfast in reminding you he was still there, if nothing else was, and you hoped you were able to give him the same now.

           You silently laid two place settings on the kitchen counter while Sam set the food out. He sat next to you and had picked up his fork when you touched his wrist to still him. “If it’s not real for you then I’m losing it too.”

           Sam thought for a second, then raised his forearm and kissed the back of your hand where you held onto him before cutting into his pancakes.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 12

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[willadisastercry]

When the dust clears and you almost wish it hadn’t...

tw: emetophobia warning (brief but there), depictions of being trapped/pinned, broken bone, head injury, blood, threat of being crushed, threat of drowning.

The paladins respond to a distress signal on a foreign planet and make quick work of getting its civilians to safety, but on their last sweep surface side, shit hits the fan. Pidge and Lance are hurt but Shiro is trapped and can’t help them. On top of that, the conditions they’re stuck in are only getting worse. With no access to the coms and no tools to help them, the trio is forced to get creative and make some sacrifices.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Dust rained down in a continuous sheet, the tiny particles lit up in beams where the brightness of the day outside peaked through the mottled roof of debris now sheltering them. It seeped through their shattered visors and cacked their lungs making whatever ragged breaths they took after they realized they’d finally stopped falling harsh and desperate.

Shiro was the only one who hadn’t been knocked out after the initial collapse, more just dazed in momentary shock from the suddenness of it all, his visor most in tact and his com emitting static output that would catch a few garbled words every now and then.

The planet they were on had sent out a distress signal when the galra outpost stationed in their solar system had somehow managed to pull their moons out of alignment, and like on earth, their moons had significant influence over their tides.

Before they arrived, the land had only been hit by minor floods but as soon as voltron and the castleship entered their atmosphere, the unruly currents ramped up tenfold and small tremors could be felt from somewhere deep underground.

The abnormal weather phenomena hadn’t yet delved into anything seismic, just tidal, but they’d only been planet-side for ten minutes before alarms started blaring and the locals emerged from their homes frantic and scared.

Evacuation via lion had actually gone relatively smoothly, the paladins able to relocate the citizens before the trembles of the shifting plates became truly dangerous.

It had started off pretty tame, the rumblings far between and only enough to shake the windows and trees. But they steadily amplified the longer the evacuation went on until shaking became shuddering and soon trees were swaying and buildings were groaning.

After everyone was loaded onto the castle outside of the planets orbit Pidge flew the green lion flew back down to the surface stowing Lance and a lionless Shiro. They were in charge of carrying out the final sweep to check for stragglers, though the only thing they’d actually found was themselves caught in the height of a particularly large quake.

They were in the city center attempting to make it back to Green who was stationed at the beginning of the tree line on the outskirts of the city, antsy and waiting. But they would never get there because the intense trembling brought them to the knees before they’d even caught sight of the lion.

It would’ve been alright if the solid ground they thought they were on was truly as solid as it appeared, but it wasn’t, because the cracks splitting the pavilion open splintered towards them before they could even cry out and then the last thing they could hear was a roar almost as deafening as the sound of the planet ripping apart beneath their feet.

The fall wasn’t long or else they wouldn’t be alive to choke on the sheer amount of crap in the air, their helmets not surviving the broken bits of sediment that accosted them on the decent, cracking their visors and damaging their com systems.

Though cumbersome and clunky, their paladin armor was also sturdy and could withstand the weight of the rubble they were more or less sandwiched in. Their suits were ultimately what saved their lives in the initial collapse but it beat their human bodies to hell in the process.

Their senses returned with the panic of not being able to breathe, the moment they realized the ground beneath them was rough with rubble and uneven uprooted earth that wasn’t quite earth audible, marked by disoriented cries of surprise at the debris still falling while the quake that brought them down tapered out.

Pidge and Shiro came back to themselves first, raucous coughs pulling each other to reality over their ringing ears as they worked to clear the soot from their mouths and lungs. It was hard work. The air was dense with all kinds of minuscule specks of ruin that silenced them for a good minute while they struggled against the dryness in their throats.

It was Pidge who tried to move first. She was slumped over a chunk of what used to be a stone pillar from the building that was sucked into the chasm of non-earth along with them, her legs tucked awkwardly beneath her. She stopped abruptly to let out a strangled wail when she went to push herself up.

She hadn’t felt much of anything when she first woke up, just incredibly dazed as she fought to open her eyes under the layer of dust encrusting them. But when she put pressure on her arms she discovered that something was seriously wrong with one of them, collapsing back onto the jagged piece of stone to writhe as pain shot through to her shoulder and seized her back.

“Pidge?”

She barely registered the crackle of a low voice from somewhere nearby, her mind entirely consumed by panicking over the pain she was in as well as the unknown regarding the extent of the injury.

“Pidge is that you? Are you okay?”

It clicked then that it was Shiro speaking but she didn’t have air in her lungs to produce any answer other than a panicked whimper, too afraid to lift herself off of the injured limb to see the damage and incite another wave of agony. She didn’t have enough air to handle that again, sucking down what she could in too large of quantities for such a limited supply.

Shiro was going through a similar mental battle, though the first thing dawning on him as he registered his new surroundings was that Pidge needed help, not his own physical wellbeing. So naturally, he’d tried to get up as soon as he heard her call out only to discover he couldn’t move much because he was sprawled on his back amongst an ever growing pile of debris, his prosthetic arm likely crushed to shit under a sizable slab of stone with smaller chunks pressing against his chest and legs.

He was sufficiently stuck, pinned in place and unable to get to her but forced to listen as her anguished sounds continued.

“Pidge I’m trapped, I can’t—shit, I can’t get to you. And I don’t have visual confirmation from Lance yet so you’re gonna have to work with me here... talk to me, where are you hurt? How bad does it look?”

The sound she contrived then was like the ones before, except not for her own misery, not entirely at least. Because that meant there was still no sign of life from Lance which meant there was a very real concern that there wouldn’t be which left Pidge having to pull herself together and search for him since Shiro was otherwise incapacitated.

This would be sucky and not ideal at all, but necessary.

”Pidge?!”

Logic told her that bones mend and that pain was fleeting. That agony would be temporary, fear too, and once she found Lance it would be better, bearable at least.

And so with that resolve she willed her breathing to slow enough to form a coherent statement.

“It’s my arm,” she huffed quickly, the shrillness in her voice evidence of the severity of the injury.

“Okay, can you move? Is there something on top of you?” Shiro asked calmly, his voice level and sympathetic.

“No, I’m on top of it... if-if I move again—“

“Take a breath, it’s probably broken.”

Clearly, but Pidge was already ten steps ahead, her brain grappling with the notion of whether stabbing pain meant safe compounded fracture or gruesome and bloody and open fracture that would make her sick if she even caught sight of her own arm like that.

She shuddered violently at the thought and bit back a gasp when it jostled whatever lay beneath her.

“You’re okay, just breathe... are you sitting or laying down?”

Still so calm, somehow. So incredibly practical and disarming. It was almost unnerving how well he could do that, compartmentalize everything.

“S-sitting, sort of.”

“How?”

Awkwardly, Shiro. The man might be terrifyingly apt at rationalizing the impossible but seemed utterly incompetent in predicting the obvious.

“Folded over a rock and using it as my pillow... all my weight is on it—on my arm,” she ammended with a gulp.

Shiro took his precious time turning this information over in his head and the radio silence almost had Pidge worrying he’d passed out until his voice came back somehow even more blunt and pragmatic than before.

“That’s better actually. What I need you to do is hold your arm in place with your good hand, press it to your chest and use your shoulder to lean on as you sit back again. It should be less agitating that way—“

Shiro’s gentle instruction was cut off by Pidge’s cry as she sat up and away from the slab of stone like he recommended, her vision whiting as she cradled her arm against herself.

When she could see properly again she found her curiousity too overwhelming and spared a look at the mangled limb.

It was both better and worse than she had imagined. The forearm component of her armor was hanging on in pieces and clearly displayed the horrifying mess that lay under what remained. No skin was broken, but the tip of her bone was very visibly poking the already swelling flesh where the middle of her forearm sported a new joint.

The sight was overwhelming and her breaths soon came in short pants, the threat of passing out suddenly very real.

“Good Pidge, that was great. Take a couple deep breaths for me while you adjust,” he asked gently, his voice taking on a more solemn tone now.

She already knew what was coming next and began rearranging her legs beneath her, several deep breaths required to clear the black dotting her vision before she was confident she could stand testing their strength without them turning jelly.

“I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, but you need to find Lance... I’m not mobile and I haven’t heard him yet.”

“Already... on it,” she panted as she leaned on her knees before coming to a shakey stance.

The lighting was sparse in the pocket of nothing that the pavilion collapsed into after the fissure opened, barely enough to make out the terrain in front of her and then some. So she made her way slowly, toeing rocks and larger slabs before proceeding, checking for stability with every step as she slinked across the unnatural landscape.

“Follow my voice... I can hear you now... watch out for the crap still falling...”

Finding Shiro wasn’t difficult when his voice carried so well through the wreckage, even despite the shifting fauna and bits still crashing down and settling.

There hadn’t been another quake in the time that they’d woken up, but that only made finding Lance that much more important. If he hadn’t responded yet then it was more than likely he was pretty hurt, which would be even more dangerous for him to be alone if the rubble decided to rearrange itself.

“Hey...” Shiro laughed pitifully as she ducked under a slanted piece of stone to get to him.

Pidge saw his predicament immediately, he was looking at her from where he was propped up one elbow, his metal arm wedged underneath a piece of stone bigger than he was.

“Well, that’s not good,” she stated before coming down hard on one knee, clutching her arm extra close as she lowered herself to the floor for a better look.

“Let me see your arm,” he ordered in his leader voice, a futile attempt to deflect from his own issues.

“My arm is snapped, let me see if you still have one,” she countered expertly, pushing away his searching hand after once he’d laid back down try and examine the disfigured appendage now securely in her lap.

He sighed in defeat. Pidge had too many years of experience dodging brotherly coddling with Matt to concede to Shiro’s fretting and let him distract from her own triage efforts.

“How bad? Can’t really tell from this angle...”

“I’m not seeing much but there is quite a bit of space between the floor and the rock still so that’s kind of promising for the integrity of the prosthetic... let me get this crap off though—“

“No, you’re hurt don’t push yourself, it’s fine.”

But Pidge acted as if she hadn’t heard him and began to remove the rocks, turning over the more meager pieces of broken stone from his chest with her good hand.

“Pidge, it’s okay. I’m not hurt and you need to save your energy to look for—“

“Wait! Shut up...”

“Excuse me?!”

“Shhhh!”

Pidge held her hand up to Shiro’s face as she closed her eyes and listened for something. Shiro only heard a faint whooshing and a steady trickle until it happened again. A very guttural but human moan.

“Lance! Shit.”

“Go, he’s gotta be close, he was just beside me when we fell...”

Pidge moved swiftly, more nimble than she could’ve thought possible as she maneuvered around the rubble with only one arm to steady her.

“Lance, call out!”

Every time she moved her arm throbbed horribly, but slowing down was not an option, not when another quake was due and could occur at any moment.

“If you can hear me I need you to make a sound, throw something, anything!”

Her repeated shouts are what in the end got him to groan again, the sound of her pointed words coming closer making the pressure in his skull swell exponentially.

“That’s it, keep making noise...!”

As he tried to wake up and open his eyes he only succeeded in making himself more disoriented, the world seeming to spin even with his eyes squeezed shut.

It dawned on him then that closing his eyes when he had absolutely no idea what sort of life threatening situation he may or may not be in was a sort of really bad idea. He had no clue how he was oriented, no grasp of what was up or down, how his body was positioned, if he was hurt or not. He wasn’t even entirely sure he was alive but the second heart beat on the side of his head seemed to eventually convince him he was.

“Lance?!”

But then again the agony swirling around in his brain didn’t seem to care if it was stupid to close his eyes, nor did the intensity of the light above him that burned his retinas when he attempted to open them.

“Call out!”

Uh, no I will not, thank you very much.

Whoever was screaming in his face needed to learn some manners and stop. The sound pierced his ears like a thousand needles and traveled to the center of the heartbeat in his skull, another pathetic moan escaping his lips as he tried to reach for the spot.

“Oh, no—no, don’t do that.”

He was sprawled on his side, limbs askew and otherwise undamaged aside from his armor appearing nearly shredded in some places with how roughly he’d been tossed around in the fray. His helmet was missing and it took Pidge a few moments to locate it, almost wishing she hadn’t once she did.

The left side was dented, the visor cracked so severely that there was nothing but a few jagged shards left of it.

“You’re okay, I’m here Lance, it’s Pidge.”

Lance didn’t care that it was Pidge, she was screaming at him and it was making him nauseous. He couldn’t understand why she insisted on being so loud when he had such a bad headache or why she held his wrist so tightly.

“You’ve got a pretty nice gash there—” she muttered, her restricting hand releasing him to turn his head to the side “—a nice few gashes, actually.”

He must have made a protesting sound at the movement because she stopped and cupped his cheek instead, using the top of her thumb to wipe the tears making their way to his chin.

“Hey, you’re gonna be alright. Can you open you’re eyes at all?”

“Mmmmm.”

“Can you try? Only for a second, I just need to see something. C’monnnn, don’t you want to see my pretty face?”

He made a softer sound then and his eyelids began to flutter as he tried to pry them open, wincing at how painful even the dim lighting was once he did.

“Good, that’s good. Okay, I’m just gonna help you out here, don’t be scared...” she said as she moved her thumb and pointer finger to prop open one eyelid at a time and keep them still so she could get a good look.

His pupils were blown which was probably why opening them hurt so bad, more light was coming in than should be which couldn’t feel nice for his clearly rattled brain.

“Kay, all done... I think you have a concussion, but nothing else seems to be wrong aside from the still gushing head and facial wounds. Can you keep your hand there do you think? ” she asked as she brought it to where the bleeding was worst and pressed down, illiciting a hiss but no other resistance as he held it place.

“Great, you’re doing so great. I know you probably feel really out of it but we need to get you over to where Shiro is... and my arms kinda busted so I can only give you one hand...”

His groaning halted for a moment to let loose a low whine as he tried to open his eyes long enough to look at what she meant, his face scrunching up with concern when he finally managed to.

“You-your arm... s’hurt...” he choked out, more a restatement than a question, his tongue unwilling and his energy spent as he tried to form something coherent.

“Yeah, as I said, busted. But don’t worry about that now, just give me your hand.”

Lance seemed a bit confused at her command so she took up the hand that was limp at his side and moved it to his lap where she could reposition her own at his elbow.

“This is gonna be a tad tricky so just work with me, okay?”

He grunted a sort of ‘uh huh’ and returned with his own grip on her upper arm.

“I’m gonna stand up and lean back, when I do you’re gonna lean forward and stand with me...” Pidge detailed as she moved his legs so that they were bent towards his chest and in front of him.

It wasn’t that he was immobile. The rest of his body was free of visible injuries but his brain and his limbs seemed to be on different frequencies for the time being, the channels of communication disconnected and not taking signals from one another making his movements sluggish and sloppy.

“Okay, ready? Alright, up we go...”

What happened next was anything other than graceful. As soon as Lance was upright he lilted into Pidge who fixed her stance as he stumbled to keep standing, his grip tight on her arm and his weight almost entirely on her hip as he held his throbbing head.

“You good? Here, arm around my neck, just don’t touch my arm... there ya go. We’ll go slow, it’s not far,” she assured as she began to walk forward, Lance following in his own sort of zigzag next to her.

They made their way excruciatingly slow. Pidge moved with care, constantly analyzing the most doable path to lead Lance into, stepping on top of and over boulder sized bits of stone as he continued on whatever even ground she could find.

It was only when she was tapping her toe behind his knee to get it to buckle that he was aware they’d made it. He hadn’t heard Pidge asking him to sit, didn’t even register her hand on his face as he fought with the terrible heat on the side of his head that threatened to make his stomach act on how unsettled it was.

He let out a breathless ‘oh’ as his butt connected with the ground, a layer of recently upturned dust rising after him. Once he was safely seated Shiro removed his hand from his back from where he’d been assisting the transition.

“Shiroo...!?!” he gushed, the word sloshing in his mouth.

“Hey, Lance.”

Though he knew his friend’s demeanor was the result of a pretty gnarly head injury, Shiro couldn’t help but let a fond smile appear at his almost childlike vocalization.

“How ya feeling?”

“Oh, not good I think, right Pidge?—yeah, really not good...”

“Concussion, I checked,” Pidge provided after Shiro took Lance’s bloody hand away from the source of the bleeding to check the damage out for himself.

“That looks painful,” Shiro sympathized before returning his hand to the spot as gently as he could.

Lance processed that his hand had made contact again about ten seconds after which seemed to send his head realing because the next moment he was choking back a gag.

“Crap, it’s alright if you need to throw up. Just get it out, don’t hold it in,” Shiro ushered, his hand moving to Lance’s arm as he doubled over himself, his throat clenching against the bile rising and he sputtered.

He was sufficiently out of sorts and could hardly hold on to a coherent thought but he knew that he did not want to throw up. Not here in front of his friends, especially Shiro.

But the wave of nausea that was making his stomach cramp and his head throb was overshadowed by the sound of something crashing, like a stack of precariously placed objects falling over abruptly except much louder and followed by a sustained gush.

“Shiro..?”

The trepidation in Pidge’s voice made her sound so much younger, like how she did before Shiro left for Kerberos.

At the same time that fear erupted in his friend’s chests, saliva welled up in Lance’s mouth and he let out a pitiful sound, the new commotion having him seeing stars with how angrily his head pulsed from it.

“It’s probably just rubble settling, can you see anything?”

Pidge moved towards the biggest source of light from where the surface above them split apart, the scene hazy through clouds of dust and substantially obscured by larger breakages of sediment. She lifted herself onto her toes to try and makes sense of the destruction around them.

“No...”

Pidge couldn’t see much through the chalky blackness, just hints of structures here and there.

“There’s nothing there—oh.”

The gushing sound seemed to pull to the forefront of the concerning noises then, like a geyser of something had erupted and was emptying itself out into the chasm that had opened up beneath them and swallowed them down. This was concerning for a lot of reasons.

“Yeah, never mind we are so fucked.”

Lance wasn’t even trying to follow the progression of events going on around him, listening intently enough to make sense of a single sentence worsening the pressure behind his eyes while he stomach continued to flip.

The acid taste coming up his throat was putrid, but mixed with a grating layer of dust irritating the back of his throat, the presence of it while already massively disoriented was overwhelming.

“What is it?-crap Lance. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Shiro soothed, his hand secure on the other boy’s back while his frame shook from retching so hard.

“Pipe must’ve burst, well I guess not a pipe, more like a main...”

“A main? As in a water main?”

“Yes,” Pidge deadpanned, using her good hand to steady herself against a taller shred of stone as she continued evaluating just how fucked they were.

Shiro gulped, convinced he could actually feel the tons of weight on top of his foreign prosthetic growing heavier the longer he remained wedged under it.

“How much is coming in?”

He could hear it clearer now, like the rumble in your ears when wind rushed past them.

“Too much...”

With a hiccoughing whine, Lance pitched forward, nearly collapsing into the puddle of his own sick as he continued to gag.

“Woah, okay! You’re alright, I’ve got you... just do what you have to do bud.”

Shiro’s free hand on the center of Lance’s chest was the only thing keeping him upright as he worked through the rolling waves of dizzying nausea.

Pidge spared a cursory glance towards her friend, watching how his shoulders worked as he heaved for a moment before returning back to her internal spiral.

“Coms are wrecked but they’re out of range so it’s not like that really matters anyway... the air is pretty thin already, but the longer we’re down here the less viable o2 there’s going to be... and the crater we’re in is flooding so the more pressing issue is—”

“Pidge,” Shiro drawled slowly, his tone placating as he watched her pace back and forth, images of Matt doing the same thing surfacing in his mind as she did.

She might resemble her brother in appearance but their personalities for the most part could not be more opposite. Though during his time in the castle of lions Shiro had found that they actually share a lot of the same nervous mannerisms.

He knew Pidge probably had no idea how similar their actions are and he’s sort of glad only he does, suspecting the knowledge would only make her sad.

The only issue with this discovery is the fact that even though her reaction isn’t new to Shiro, dealing with it was, and once Pidge’s mind started working it was hard to get it to stop.

Lance was winding down then. His breaths still heavy and uneven, the stream of blood down his neck and front steady as ever, but he wasn’t gagging anymore.

“You’re arm is... fucked, my arm is fucked, and Lance’s head! Oh god, this is—“

“Calm down, we can figure this out.”

She spun on him abruptly enough that Shiro was scared for a second she might’ve given herself whiplash.

“Calm down?! How do you expect me to do that when we’re going to be underwater in an hour, hell maybe even a couple of minutes?!”

Lance’s shoulders seemed to slump somehow further from the volume of her voice and Shiro took a second before launching into his response to help him sit back on his heels and away from the vomit.

“No, I’m going to be underwater. You and Lance are going to start walking, climbing, whatever it is you have to do to get to higher ground—“

“Yeah okay, fuck that. We’re not leaving you—uh buh bah, save whatever case you were gonna make because I’ll promptly stop listening.”

The visage of Matt retreated entirely with Pidge’s indiscretion, her words seeding with irritation as she shut Shiro down.

“Pidge!”

“I’m so very sorry for my attitude but you really did just pitch us leaving you to drown, are you really that surprised?”

Shiro took a practiced breath, the kind he uses to ground himself because the pit in his chest was expanding and the last thing they needed was him devolving into panic.

He eyed the way Lance swayed as he sat with his legs splayed on either side of him, his hands limp in his lap and coated in blood from the gash on his head.

“You can’t stay here, not when Lance is hurt like this.”

“Okay.”

“Huh? Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. If you want to waste your energy trying to convince me to let you die, then that’s whatever because the reality is that you’re the one stuck under a rock and I’m the only one whose mobile. This is very much my call. Sorry big guy, but we’re sticking around.”

Shiro actually laughed.

He couldn’t ignore the way that his heart filled with admiration at Pidge’s defiance but it was overwhelmed by the burden of the fact that no matter how much pride he had in her for stepping up, he was still trapped and they were still going to watch him die.

He shuddered and Lance hummed at the movement, wondering vaguely if Shiro was hurt at all before the thought disappeared and the only thing he could remember was how insanely painful the knot on the side of his head was and how heavy his aching body felt.

“M’tired... think I’m gonna... mmmh, gonna lay down,” he managed with some concentration and put his hands on the ground to brace himself but didn’t make any further moves, his face scrunching up in confusion as he struggled to figure out how to maneuver himself down when his arms were so difficult to control and his head pulsed blindingly any time he moved.

“You can’t go to sleep yet, dude. Just sit with Shiro for now, I need you to keep an eye on him for me anyway,” Pidge instructed with a grin.

Shiro huffed and narrowed his eyes but it only made her smirk widen.

“W-why? Is Shiro hurt?” Lance asked worriedly, forgetting himself entirely and attempting to twist around to see.

The gravity of the action caught up with him a beat later, the groan that bubbled in his chest ungodly.

“Easy there, hot shot, I’m okay. Just a little stuck,” Shiro assured, stilling him with a firm hand on his shoulder when the surge of pain had him tipping nearly over.

“Kay... s’good,” he noted through clenched teeth before his eyes fluttered shut and his head began to lower to his chest.

A sharp pain from where Shiro flicked the side of his cheek that wasn’t cut up and coated in blood roused Lance from his attempt to rest.

“Ow. Rude.”

“Not rude, necessary. There’s no napping on the job.”

“I’m so tired though... just wanna sleep... you guys are so mean... why can’t I just—“

“Nope. You’ve gotta keep your eyes open for me bud,” Shiro chided, shaking his shoulder gruffly enough to have his bloodshot eyes shooting open.

“But why?” he slurred, the exasperation in his whine sort of heartbreaking, “I could just nap through... the worst of this, it’d be... it’d be so nice... wouldn’t hurt so much...”

“Since when are you all about what’s easy, you’re like the most stubborn human I know?”Shiro asked, his voice full of fondness.

“And you get enough beauty rest as it is, lover boy, you’ll live if you miss a few hours.”

The rushing water filled the ambient silence while Pidge made her way back to her friends from her watch post amongst the rubble.

“Are... we?”

Lance’s voice was a broken whisper, the gravel in it a painful attribution to the stress his throat had been put under between the abuse of the acid in the bile and coarse texture of the dust.

“Are we what, Lance?”

“Live... are we gonna live?”

The gush of moving water rose up in Shiro’s ears like roaring wind again but stronger this time, effectively tunneling his attention on those words, the innocence of them.

“Of course we are—“

“I want it on the record that I, Pidge Gunderson, am making no such promises.”

“PIDGE!”

“So loud... please... shhh...” Lance cried desperately, his hands almost comically slow to rise and cover his ears.

“WHAT?! I’m being honest!”

“You’re being negative!”

“Coming from the guy who just told me to leave him for dead!”

The fire in both paladins eyes was burning so brightly Lance could’ve sworn there was an actual glow with how horribly his head was beginning to hurt from listening to them.

“Alright, I might’ve had a moment of doubt, but we can’t—“

“Stop shaking me Shiro...” Lance whimpered as he drew his knees up to his chest carefully “—it hurts... please quit it...”

This broke the two out of their heated argument.

“I’m not touching you, Lance...”

“Then t-tell whoever is... to fucking stop!”

His chest hitched pitifully when punctuating the last bit with a pleading whine had his head swimming in vengeance. If it weren’t for the stability of hugging his propped up legs so tightly he would’ve fallen over with how dizzy he was.

Pidge looked at Shiro as if he’d know any better than her what the hell he was talking about.

Unfortunately for the both of them, he did not.

“Deep breaths, Lance. You’re probably just disoriented, it’s normal for head injuries to mess with your sense of balance and equilibrium—“

“Shiro...?”

He was beginning to hate hearing his name being called when it was almost always followed by something he really wouldn’t enjoy hearing.

“Yeah, Pidge?”

But she didn’t have to continue because he felt it then.

A steady thrumming from somewhere below.

A rumble.

“Quiznak...”

[isnt-it-loverly]

Fall of Rome// five hargreeves

warnings: blood, alcohol, implications of you know what, mentions of panic attack, and pregnancy

summary: when you learn a shocking truth, you look back on your life to see where it all went wrong.

requested

word count: 2436

A/N: Did I work on this instead of my school work? mmm yeah. Am I gonna regret that later? mmmm yeah. Was it worth it? mmm yeah! ALSO very important!!!! Flashbacks are in italics and Five and the reader are 25ish when rescued by commission 

You thought the apocalypse was bad but this was far worse. Sitting on the dirty floor of some rinky-dink motel, clutching that stupid piece of plastic you screamed. How could you have let this happen? How could you let those two lines appear? You closed your eyes tightly and pictured where it went wrong.

 You woke up with a gasp, pain radiated throughout your entire body. You sat up with tears involuntarily streaming down your face. Your surroundings were nothing but rubble and fire as far as the eye could see. You coughed and a few drops of blood spilled over your lips. Clutching your side, you stood up. 

“Hello? Anyone?” You yelled. There was no response other than the crackling of fire.

 “Mom! Dad! Please, I’m scared,” You cried in anguish. 

You sat on a pile of rubble and waited for anyone to come. That’s what your father always told you to do when you were lost. You wailed for hours until your voice went hoarse. You whimpered, and somehow you knew that this is where you were gonna die. You slowly laid down and excepted your fate, you would not be a sole survivor. You just simply didn’t have it in you. At some point, you had drifted off to sleep but eventually awoken by something fiddling in your pockets. You bolted up to see a young boy in a dirty and tattered school uniform, looting through your jacket pockets. You both jerked back and let out shrieks of terror.

 “Holy shit, you’re alive?” He asked in utter shock.

 You simply just nodded, too shocked to say anything. So you two stared at each other for a moment, both very unsure of how to proceed. The boy cleared his throat and held out his hand. You took it slowly and very cautiously, still dazed from the day’s events.

“My name is Five,” he stated with a small smile, “what’s yours?”

“I- I’m (Y/n),” you rescinded in a meek tone, voice still ragged from your hours of yelling.

That’s where it all began, but that was too far back. Meeting Five was no regret either. He saved your life, and you saved him from being alone. You searched your memory again, trying to find the exact moment that altered the course of history.

 It was a cold, winter’s night, the snow was falling down at a million miles an hour and the wind was screeching like a million sirens. Luckily, you and Five found shelter in an old wine cellar that had managed to stay untouched. It was underground and it provided great shelter from the harsh elements. Five had built a fire and you suggested to drink some of the wine for that rush of warmth being drunk provided. Both options sounded amazing. You were snuggled up next to him, bottle in hand, and head on his shoulder. 

You watched as the flames dance around the kindling you found. There was a comfortable silence between you two. If you weren’t living in Hell, this would be a perfect moment. You felt a shiver run down your spine and Five instinctively pulled you closer. He was always like that with you, at first it had bothered you how he treated you like a porcelain doll just waiting to break. But as the years went on, He relaxed a bit. Realizing that you were tougher than you looked and that perhaps you were with him for the long run. Boy, had he fallen hard for you. Even if you weren’t the last girl on earth, He would always find a way to be with you. You were the one good thing about the apocalyptic future.

 He just wished he had the courage to tell you. Sure there was this unspoken bond between the two of you, you both cared immensely for the other. He was there to hold your hair back when you got sick, you were there to patch up his wounds, he was there to comfort you when the nightmares came, and you were there to sing him to sleep when they plagued his mind from time to time.  He had to make sure you knew how he felt, God forbid something happens without you knowing how much he loved you.

 “(Y/n),” He spoke softly into your ear bringing you out of your trance.

 “Yes?” You respond, gazing deeply into those beautiful emerald eyes.

 He didn’t know what to say. How could words describe how he felt, there were none. He leaned in closer, your faces mere inches apart. He took note of every detail of your face, the scar above your eyebrow, the dirt smudges on your face, and the redness of your nose from the cold. God, he wished he could take you away from this place. You didn’t deserve it. He placed a hand on your cheek and you nuzzled into its warmth. It was now or never he told himself. He broke that microscopic gap and kissed you. You were surprised at first, but you quickly kissed him back. It was like electricity and a million fireworks going off all at once. 

That was the first of many. You had loved him long before that and was very grateful that he felt the same. From that day on, everything was different. You two weren’t just two traumatized adults making their way in the world anymore, you were lovers. That made the world a little more bearable to be in, and it definitely made life a whole lot brighter. You decided that wasn’t it, there was nothing wrong there, and you wouldn’t change a thing.

 Five had been nervous and finicky all day, something very unusual for him. You were getting worried honestly. After twenty minutes of watching him pace back and forth and ramble to himself, you decided to intervene.

 “Five, dear, are you okay?” You asked obviously concerned. He would get like this when pining over an equation but he would always come to you for comfort. This was something new and something was off. 

“Everything’s fine. Why?” He said instinctively putting his hand in his pocket. Something you noticed immediately.

 “Empty your pockets,” You replied unamused. 

There was a silence before he spoke up again. “No.” 

“Excuse me?”

 “I said no, (Y/n).”

 “Say it again so I know you’re serious.”

 “No!” 

Without a second thought, you lunged for his pockets. There had never been any secrets between you two, so you weren’t going to start now. He quickly blinked out of the way. That little cheater! You made a dash for him, and he did the same. Five managed to pin you down pretty quickly but was careful not to harm you in any way.

“Are you done?” He asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“No! Not until you tell me what you’re hiding Hargreeves!” You snap back.

 “Fine,” he grumbled in defeat. 

He helped you up and began digging in his pockets. He pulled out a diamond ring attached to a silver chain. 

“I found this ring in the rubble. I knew it wouldn’t fit because of your inhumanly tiny hands. It took me months to find this necklace for it. Everything had to be perfect. So what do you say?” Five explained nervously.

 “I say, I would love to be Mrs. Hargreeves,” you replied while crushing him in a hug and showering him in kisses.

 No, that couldn’t be it either. It was definitely not the proposal you had imagined when you were a little girl, and there was no grand wedding in the apocalypse. That didn’t matter to the two of you though, all you needed was each other. You tried to think harder because to you all of this was meant to happen, you had come to love your little makeshift life in Hell. Then it hit you. The day that she came- the Handler. The day that she gave your husband a chance to leave the apocalypse, but not you. Luckily Five didn’t take her up on the offer, not if you weren’t by his side. Eventually, she cracked and you two were recruited for the Commission.

 You looked in the mirror. It had been so long since you had seen yourself, you almost forgot what you looked like. You ran fingers through your hair, it was soft and plush. Your stomach was full, and your face free of dirt and debris. This felt wrong. Nearly 15 years in an apocalypse, and suddenly you were tossed back into civilization. You felt a sob escape your throat, what had you two gotten yourselves into. You heard a knock on the bathroom door, and composed yourself quickly- this was no place for weakness.

 “(Y/n)? Can I come in? You’ve been in there for a while,” Five asked, worry evident in his voice.

 You muttered a quiet yes and your husband lets himself in. 

“Ya know, I’ve never seen you not caked in dirt and blood. You were beautiful then, but this is just a whole new level,” He said grabbing your arm. He carefully examined where they had placed the tracker, it was still bruised and he assumed sore. He placed a tender kiss around the area.

 “And it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you clean-shaven and with a fresh haircut. And never in a suit, so much more dapper than those schoolboy shorts you used to wear,” You said while placing a hand over his heart, feeling the crispness of the fabric.

He hummed in response and pulled you into a tight hug. This wasn’t easy for him so he knew it was hard on you. You breathe in smelling his cologne, what a change from the smell of fresh earth. You felt him place a kiss on the top of your forehead. 

“We have to get going. Our orientation class starts soon, and after I need to give you a crash course in combat before our first mission,” He said while pulling away. You nodded in response. Surviving this place would be nothing compared to the apocalypse. 

Yes, you thought, now we are getting somewhere. This is the fall of Rome. This is where your life began to crumble. That sense of security and the smallest ounce of normalcy gave you comfort and confidence. That was dangerous. That was it! That’s why you were in so much pain right now, that’s why your marriage could crumble, and your life terminated. 

The mission had gone sour fast. You hated every minute of it. You hated every aspect of it. You hated this life. You hated your life. You didn’t want to kill someone who wasn’t your target, but they got in the way. They threatened your life, but even worse they threatened Five’s. You had no choice.

 Sitting on the crusty bed of your motel room, Five hands you a bottle of tequila. “I know you’re more of a wine gal, but I think you might need something with a little more kick tonight,”  He said quietly, carefully unscrewing the cap for you.

 Once again you felt like that porcelain doll, except this time you had broken. You took a huge swig and Five did the same. He sat the bottle down and sat behind you. Carefully rubbing your shoulders, you let out a small sigh.

“I’m sorry that happened, Love, I should’ve been quicker,” He whispered into your ear. 

You picked up the bottle and took another long sip, loving the burn as it slid down your throat.

 “It’s not your fault, we got the job done. That’s all that matters,” you said in a monotoned voice. 

Five hated this. He wanted to take you out of the apocalypse and give you a better life- but this is not what he envisioned. He hated how The Handler has made you into a killer, he wished he could keep your hands clean. Sometimes that wasn’t an option. You turned to face him, the flush of alcohol clear on your face. You kissed him deeply and passionately.

 “Make me forget,” You whispered in between kisses. 

And one thing leads to another. One drunk night in that stupid red dress, and now your life was over. 

You stared at the pregnancy test, two lines. Shit. How could you be so stupid and reckless, how could you have let this happen? You hated yourself even more now. You couldn’t stand being in this life, so how could you bring a childinto it. The tears fell freely now, you had royally fucked up. You were so engrossed in your thoughts you didn’t hear Five walk in. 

“Honey, I’m home,” He chided jokingly. 

Your face paled and you felt like you were going to be sick. He was back early, you thought you were going to have more time to figure out what to say and more importantly what to do. 

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” Five asked, quickly rushing to your side. He dropped to his knees and wiped away all of your tears. You clutched the test tightly so that he would see. Your hands were shaking too much though for him not to notice. He reached for your hands and you didn’t have it in you to stop him. He let out a gasp and looked straight at you.

 “You’re pregnant?” He asked in disbelief. You nodded and let out another loud sob, without missing a beat Five pulled you in close. He whispered words of comfort and stroked your hair. He told you it was going to be okay, but you couldn't fathom how it would be.

 “I’m so sorry Five, I’m sorry,” you cried out. He pulled you away so he could look into your eyes. The fear behind them was evident.

 “This does put a crunch on time, but I swear to you I will figure out those equations and stop the apocalypse. We will have a normal life, I promise,” He said in a loving yet forceful tone. 

“You’re not- you’re not mad at me?” You whispered.

“No, I’m not mad at you. I love you (Y/n), with all my heart. I won’t let anything happen to you or this child,” He said pulling you into a tight hug.

 Your fears melted away, and you pretended that this was a normal moment. No impending doomsday, no time-traveling assassins, just two people in love who are cherishing a new chapter in their lives. You closed your eyes and imagined a future. It was bright, and you knew that Five would never break a promise.

“I love you too,” You smiled back.

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

Everybody wants to rule the world (number 5 x reader)

Ask:  the reader somehow survives the apocalypse and gets found by five and they spend a couple of years together, in those years they learn about eachother , unfortunately the reader doesn´t make it through the 45 years and dies somehow. When jumping back in time, five goes to find the reader at Griddy's  and goes to check on her often and talk with her over coffee, when the apocalypse comes he brings her along with their siblings and also back in time and tells her he's not loosing her again

A/N: Hope this is what you wanted, they’re both 16 at the start like lets pretend instead of running away at 13 he waited a few more years. when he goes back in time to 2019 theyre both 16 just like idk its easier to write them both being 16+

Words:1917

Worked dragged on cold, quiet nights, sometimes the minimum wage job at the small town diner didn’t quite seem worth it, forcing a smile on your face at every new customer. “Can you go down to the freezer and get some ice please, sweety?” Smiling, you nod at your coworker, starting your descent down the steep steps to the basement. You never understood why it was placed quite so far down under Griddy’s but it was a welcome break, the near freezing air cooled your skin. 

Deep into the freezer, you hear the door gently click shut behind you as you try to find any ice left at all. Once you spotted one, high up on the top shelf, you reach up on your tiptoes, your finger just skimming the cold plastic bag before you were thrown to the ground by an astronomical force followed promptly by a loud bang that resonated in your chest.

Before you could even gain a sense of what was happening another bang wracked through your body, followed by another, only for multiple hitting all at once almost like a nuclear strike, hell, it was a nuclear strike, that was the only reasoning you could think of to explain what was happening. Then it went silent, you find the courage to shakily make your way onto your feet, slowly edging towards the door. 

Quivering, your fingers skimmed the cold door handle of the freezer, almost opening it before being thrown across the freezer by a shockwave, your back slamming against the floor giving you whiplash. Darkness filled the corners of your eyes as the world above you collapsed, the cold from the freezer almost freezing you in place as slowly, everything went black.

Cold seeped into your core as your eyes regained focus, as memories came flooding back tears came flooding in. Ignoring the pain from your back you throw yourself towards the door, begging for it to swing open to reveal that everything is normal only to be greeted with a door full of rubble. Without a second thought you start trying to dig through the rubble with your bare hands, almost instantly getting cuts and debris on your hands, only for a large rumble to cut through the quiet, you run away from the door as you watch it all fall down into the freezer.

“VANYA?”

Your head turns to the freezer door, seeing a stream of light just shining through the top, the outside world, and someone was there. “HELP!” You shout with every ounce of your body. 

“HELP!”

Five couldn’t believe his ears, someone was still alive. He tried to find where the sound was coming from then he heard the call for help again, clear as day. Running in the direction it came from, he desperately searched for the sound of the voice before it was too late. 

“Hello? Where are you?”

You see a shadow cross the small gap that separates you from the outside world, you hoped it was someone, anything. “I’m here! I’m right here. Look down.” The shadow moved back across the hole, stopping directly in front of it. Suddenly, he was behind you in a flash of blue, you turn to face him, not even bothering to question how he did that and threw yourself towards him and giving him a tight embrace.

When you release him and look around you’re on the surface, your eyes taking in the wasteland of the world. Your mouth fell open at the sight, turning around to see Griddys crumbled to the floor, buildings on fire and people lying dead. 

“What happened?” Locking eyes with the boy, you hoped he had an answer.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. How long were you down there?” 

“I think since last night,” Your eyes started to water as you spoke, looking at the smashed up Griddy’s sign lying on the floor. “I went to get some ice from the freezer and next thing I knew there was all these bangs going off, like bombs.” You mimicked an explosion with your hands before continuing. “Just before I could try and open the freezer door, a shockwave from something big hitting, I got thrown back and went unconscious.” 

“Shit.”

“I’m y/n, I think we might be sticking around each other for a while.”

“Five.” He stuck out his hand, a sad smile on his face.

It was hard fending for yourselves, you were lucky that Five had some survival skills but even with some skills, it was hard. Two teenagers should never be left to fend for themselves, let alone be left as the last ones alive. You taught each other some vital things however, you teaching Five how to cook with limited food and supplies and other small things you’d picked up in your life and Five taught you how to fight and protect yourself, you were quite the team.

Slowly, you became more than a team, more than just two people trying to survive. As the years went on, you were surviving for each other, Five was trying to get the maths right so you could go back together, stop the apocalypse together and live happily, together. No label could describe your relationship but at the same time there was no need to label the relationship when there was only the two of you in the world, it was something special just for you two, the world was yours. 

He knew everything about you, your job, favourite movie and book, how you liked greek mythology and the stars. On a night, you’d lie looking at the stars, running your hand through his hair and telling him about a different Greek God and their relation to the stars.

“And that one-” You stopped dead in your tracks, the moon was full but something wasn’t right with it, a part of it was missing. “Five, a part of the moon is missing.”

“Huh?” He squinted his eyes to look at the moon. “Holy shit.”

Now it was just a game of determining how the moon broke, if it was the moon that truly caused the apocalypse. You had plenty of time to think about it as Five worked on his equation to get you both back home. He’d been working on it for years, you weren’t sure how many years had past but you were both much older now, more mature and smart, even if you did have to educate yourselves using whatever books you could find.

A heat wave wracked through the area, fatiguing you and Five during your travels. You’d walked for miles in the blistering heat, there was a welcoming sight of shade next to an upstanding building which was a rare sight. Gratefully, you move into the shade and rest your back against the tall wall, noticing all the exposed beam poles, dangerously hanging exposed above.

But you’d run out of luck, it was bound to happen eventually, almost as if in slow motion the wall gave out behind you and down came the beams, piercing right through you. Everything was numb yet your eyes were open rivers, the memories of you and Five flashed before your eyes, he was your whole life, the love of your life and you ruined it just as quickly as it started. Five was right next to you, begging you to keep living yet you couldn’t hear him as everything went blurry.

“I’ll wait for you in the past Five, just don’t forget to come get me, okay?” You never heard an answer just the ever deafening ringing that consumed your mind as it went blank, all you could make out was him sat right next to you, saying something but you weren’t sure what. Weakly, you raised your hand to his cheek. “I love you.” You spoke, then everything went black.

Work was always slow on the weekdays, with most people being at work it made for a quiet and relaxing shift. A chime echoed through the diner, signalling a new customer. Smiling, you were met face to face with a boy around your age, almost looking at you in awe.

“Hi, how can I help?” Your pen was poised ready to write down his order. 

“Black coffee, please.” He seemed nervous, you just smiled and went to get his coffee, coming back and pouring it in front of him. “I like your bracelet, it’s the constellation for Gaia, right? The Goddess of the earth?”

“Wow, yeah,” You smiled to yourself before locking eyes with him. “You know your stuff.” 

“I had a friend, a long time ago,” taking the mug, he held it in both his hands as he talked. “They taught me all about the different constellations and their relation to the Gods.” He took a sip.

“I think I’d get along swell with your friend.” You leant against the counter, you felt a wave of deja vu as you spoke to him, he seemed so familiar but you were certain you hadn’t met him before.

“I haven’t seen them in years, maybe I could be the next best thing. I’m Five.” He held out his hand.

Gently, you took it. “I’m y/n.”

As soon as you released his grip, the bell rang again and in came people in black suits and guns, all pointing at Five. Just before you were going to speak Five cut you off.

“Duck.”

Shots ricocheted around the diner as you dropped to the floor behind the counter, frozen in fear you couldn’t move. You didn’t even want to know what was going on behind you, you just kept your eyes firmly shut, hoping it would all be some big dream that you’ll wake up from. As soon as the shooting had stopped you felt a pair of hands on yours.

“Don’t move.” It was Five, a sudden sickening feeling came over you followed by a wave of disotatation. When you open your eyes you’re in an unfamiliar room with Five, the boy you’d met mere minutes ago. “Please hear me out, I can explain everything.”

So you listened and tried to take everything in, the apocalypse, you surviving, building a life with Five and being essentially the last people on earth, then you died. It was overwhelming, the entire situation but one thing struck you, is there any proof?

“Can you prove it? Prove that any of this happened and that you’re not just crazy.” He sighed.

“Promise you won’t freak out?” Once you nodded, he handed you a picture, a picture of you and him but older. “After about 3 years of walking, we found a polaroid camera that only had one film left so we took a picture together.” It was most definitely the both of you in that photo, smiling behind a wasteland behind you. 

“I also have this.” He pulled out a silver chain and handed it to you, it was your bracelet. “It’s one of a kind right? You’re grandad made it for you.” He was right, there was only ever one of these bracelets but he had the exact same one.

“So we were the last ones standing?” He nodded. “Cool.” It was not cool at all, it was terrifying.

“I’m going to stop the apocalypse, y/n, but I can’t do it without you. I can’t lose you again.” 

You stare at the items in your hand before locking eyes with him. “Okay, me and you, we’re gonna stop this. I promise.”  

[starkslawyer]

Everything happened so fast that it was hard to even comprehend what was going on.  The Avengers got the stones, Hulk snapped his fingers.  For the first time in a long time there’s a subtle hope in his heart but then just as fast as it seemed like it might be okay, everything went to shit again.

He had been in another part of the compound away from when he heard the rumbling outside. And then things began to blow up, the building began to crumble and Oliver fell from the third floor to one of the lower ones.  There was no doubt in his mind that this had something to do with Thanos.  Somehow, someway all this was his doing.  Oliver groans an expletive as his back smacked against a chunk of debris.  His head aching, ears ringing, but at least he’s alive.  He just hopes that everyone else was just as lucky as he was.  Of course Kara’s whereabouts worry him.  He lifts his hand to speak into his watch that also acts like a communicator, but it’s shattered .... broken beyond use.  

As he pulls himself up from the ground, he begins to walk carefully across the floor, worried that any moment it’ll give away again and and he’ll be free falling once again.  There’s so much noise outside that he can tell that it’s just not gunfire and bombs laser blasts, but he also hears people and aliens .... creatures yelling and screaming -- it’s almost too much for him to bear.  For a moment he thinks about going to the shelter underground.  Kara always told him that he should head there if anything like this ever happened.  It was impenetrable and he could wait all this out.  But as he begins to make his way there, another thought comes to him and he switches direction.  He needs to check to make Kara’s lab is secure.  With all her tech in there, he worries what would happen if Thanos or whoever got ahold of it.  

When he’s just about to the lab he hears something behind him and when he turns his eyes widen and mouth falls open slightly at the sight of an armor-clad alien holding a long pointing weapon.  It chitters something and then begins to charge and Oliver takes no time to turn and run down the hall.  He’s not a superhero.  He has no powers or special abilities to help him in a situation like this, so all he can do right now is run towards the lab.  Maybe in there he can find something to defend himself.  But just as he rounds the corner of the hall, he feels a sharp stab through his back.  He looks down to see the spearhead poking through his chest before it’s pulled out.  There’s more chittering from the alien attacker but just before he’s stabbed again, there’s more rumbling as the building crumbles again, taking the alien with it.

Oliver looks down at his white button up shirt which now has a huge red spot pooling on it.  Blood --- there’s so much blood, but he keeps going towards the lab, getting slower with each step.  Fuck -- he really thought he’d have more time, there was so much more he wanted to accomplish in this life.  He thought he’d have more time with her and he wished he told her everything he wanted to tell her, but it was too late now.  He staggers towards the lab which he can see is open wide from the building being blown up but he knows there’s force field mechanism that goes on as a fail safe.  Unfortunately it’s not on.  “Fuck...” he mutters, breathing heavily as he approaches the lab.  He brings himself over to the console on the wall to see if he can manually get it up and running again.  His last act on this earth, he wants to do something for her.  

His vision is going blurry and his head cloudy.  His bloody fingers slip against the console as he tries to put in the code.  He’s not successful the first two tries but on the third there’s a small beeping noise and the force field goes up around the lab.  Oliver breathes out a sigh as his vision darkens, legs begin to weaken and he slides down to the floor leaving a bloody streak from his body against the wall.

@akryptoniangirl​

[hoe-doroki]

We’ll See

Happy birthday, to my sweet boy, Kiri. Glad I managed to just barely get this out in time for you.

pairing: Kirishima x demisexual!fem!reader

genre: gen, light romance, light fluff, light comfort

word count: 6.3k

summary: After a fateful meeting where he saves you from a villain attack, you and Kirishima keep running into each other. And although he’s so nice, you only feel fear around the fact that he might be interested in you. Even though all you want is, for once, to let yourself be happy and maybe fall in love, you can’t seem to be able to. You just can’t.

a/n: I’ve been trying to think about what a comfort fic might look like for a demi reader because romance stories never match my lived experience and sometimes make me feel worse. I think I’ve finally managed something here. I hope this provides comfort to anyone who has difficult romantically/sexually for any reason, especially those of us who are acespec. My ask box is always open for acespec or similar requests as well. <3

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

For a moment, you thought it was hail. Little flecks of white—not quite white, really—falling from the sky at a more precipitous pace than snow, and bigger, more irregular. More dangerous.

Then, when you looked up, you didn’t know how you’d missed it.

You were always attentive when walking in the city, even in your Sisyphean commute to work: home, walk, train, walk, work, day after day. You held your bag close on your shoulder, had your pepper spray at the ready, and didn’t bother changing into heels until you got to the office. You always had your eyes on the surroundings, so, just before it happened, you could have told the cops that it had been a lovely spring day, white and pink flowers just beginning to bloom, but still jacket weather—not at all a day for hail. The streets had been congested with people just like you, all headed to work or school. The woman in front of you had been wearing a brightly striped sweater, standing out against the sea of black suits.

Then, concrete had begun raining down.

You looked up in time to see a slab from one of the old concrete buildings give way, suddenly casting shade right where you were standing. And the next thing you knew, you were on your back, and there was a man on top of you. Your first thought was that he must have been a dragon. Hard scales, sharp teeth, all jagged edges sharp enough to scratch grooves into the pavement below. He could kill you in an instant.

His arms were caged around you covered in fabric. But upon closer look at his exposed neck, you saw he didn’t have scales; his skin was like rock. Rocks that hadn’t yet been touched by the erosion of wind or water. They were new ones that were unbroken.

It took a moment of stillness, a moment of him trembling under the weight of the concrete wall for you to realize he wasn’t here to brutalize you—he was saving you. And when you realized that, your brain snapped into focus. There was chaos around you—you could hear the screams. Maybe they were civilians who were worried that you’d just been flattened to a pancake, but maybe they had greater fears than that. There was probably a villain on the loose, and this hero was wasting his time on you—just one person.

“Go!” you shouted, making eye contact with him for the first time. Red eyes like uncut rubies encased in cracked ivory. “I’ll be fine!”

For a moment, he struggled to lift the broken remnant of the building off of you both, but then you honed your focus. You stared at the concrete and it lifted off of the hero’s back, watched as his shoulders settled in relief. He looked at you in confusion for a second, taking in your furrowed brow and tense mouth, frozen body. Then, he took you in his arms and carried you to safety before you gasped, and the concrete fell with a smash.

He left you gasping on the sidewalk and ran into the fray, where it looked like a villain with a power-up quirk had crashed through the office building onto the sidewalk, where they were now wreaking havoc.

Someone offered a hand to help you up and you took it. Telekinesis always took a lot out of you, especially when an object was as heavy as, oh, say, a side of a building, but you shook it off as best you could, just focusing on getting your breathing under you.

More pro heroes were turning up, either drawn by the noise or the masses of pedestrians fleeing the area. The latter of which was exactly what you should have been doing.

But you couldn’t.

You’d never desired to be a pro hero. Yeah, you admired them, but as a job it sounded, well, awful? Seeking out trouble, always in danger of major corporeal damage, a constant target on your back—you’d never be able to handle the stress. You desired consistency in your life and, even if it wasn’t saving the world, an office job gave you that. Still, you’d always told yourself that if you even found yourself in a situation where you could help, where your quirk would be useful and it would be a net gain for you to stay instead of run, you would help. It was your duty.

Awfully hard to live up to when the situation actually came, though.

“Get out of here!” you said to the guy who’d helped you up as you staggered forward, hands on your knees. You were fine, you were standing. You didn’t have to fight—you absolutely shouldn’t fight—but if there was anyone who needed your help, you’d provide it.

As you pushed yourself up straight, the guy threw you one last look and then joined the crowd running from the scene while you stood, planted in it.

The fight was moving away from the building as multiple heroes took on the one huge villain, whose club-like arms were able to send them flying back before anyone could restrain him. But that was perfect. The building was still crumbling and you could check if anyone was stuck.

As you got closer, it looked as though you’d been the one hit by the biggest piece of debris—which, frankly, was a miracle. You were likely the one person in the crowd with any chance of surviving that, and the red-eyed hero had been there to save you anyway. But there was a lamppost that had been knocked over, thankfully pulled out of the ground so you could hold your breath and levitate it, vision just turning black around the edges as you dropped it harmlessly back to the ground. The victim likely had a broken leg, but some others managed to haul them out of the fray and hopefully to a hospital. One person saved.

The move left you capsized, back on your knees as you blinked color back into your vision. Fortunately, there wasn’t too much rubble—not yet, anyway—so all else there was to do was find a couple of the people who’d been knocked down or injured and send them out of the line of fire to where someone else could take care of them. You could use your quirk to keep back, not have to get too dangerously close to the fray in order to help these people. So you did your best to stay in the shadows of the punched-out building where there’d be no attention on you. Each time left you strained, but not broken. You just needed a little rest, and then you could keep moving.

You’d fallen to hands and knees after the last person, wheezing greedy gulps of dusty air. It felt like there were hands around your chest, squeezing palms against your heart and thick fingers against your throat. You weren’t practiced enough with your quirk to move this many heavy things successively, but you’d also never overused your quirk before. Never had to. You didn’t know where the line was, but so long as you were conscious, you’d keep moving.

But you felt lightheaded. The weight was suddenly off of your knees and wrists and you wondered if you were about to faint. Suddenly, the you felt a new compression around your waist as you were flipped upright, and you opened your eyes, looking down to see gray, damp skin pressed against your middle, and your feet dangling off the ground.

Oh, shit.

This was why civilians weren’t supposed to get involved when villains were around. You could become a liability for the heroes. Now they wouldn’t be able to fight all out against the villain, because you were effectively a meat shield. A hostage.

This wasn’t a net gain. Sure, you’d saved a handful of people, but now the villain couldn’t be caught. They had more power than just their quirk—they had leverage.

You thought quickly. You weren’t going to be the reason these heroes’ mission failed. You needed to take control of the situation so that no one else would get hurt. You needed to get the net gain back on your side.

You closed your eyes and took a couple breaths. After one last big one, you sent the villain up in the air, and you with it. As your ears began to ring, the last thing you heard were worried cries rumbling out from the chest you were pressed against. You felt the air as you both rose up in the sky, and then their arms loosened around you.

And then, you began to fall.

The next thing you heard was beeping. Gentle, even beeping to the rhythm of your gentle, even breaths. You weren’t heaving, weren’t gasping anymore. You must have been feeling better.

You took a breath and tried to push yourself up, instantly regretting it as your ears began to ring. Again. Suddenly, you remembered where you’d just been, what you’d just done.

Ugh, you were an idiot.

“Woah, you okay?”

You cracked your eyes open and saw a man in front of you. Definitely not a doctor, if his total lack of a shirt was anything to go by. You could feel your heartbeat in both ears, pulsing like a rock concert and waking up a headache you hadn’t realized you had. You closed your eyes and relaxed back down again.

“I’m okay,” you tried, but your voice came out all raspy. You wondered if dust had come out with it, expelling like smoke from your dry lungs.

“Here, let me get you some water.”

You blinked your eyes open and saw a straw being held up to your lips. You craned your neck up enough to purse your lips around it and took a small sip. Better.

The man in front of you had strange cuffs on his shoulders and something almost like a cape around his waist. But when you saw the wire piece around his face, you were finally able to place him.

“You’re the rock dragon,” you said.

The man laughed and you saw how young he was. When he’d been in his rocky form he could have been any age. No wrinkles or actual hair to go by. But now it was obvious that he was likely in his early twenties, just like you. Impressive for him to be a hero.

“Rock dragon?” he echoed. “I’ll take that.”

“Did you guys get the villain?”

That’s all you wanted to know. It didn’t really matter what had happened to you—evidently you were in one piece, so it was all but irrelevant.

The hero nodded. “They’re locked up, not too many major injuries on the scene. Thanks to you.”

“Urgh,” you groaned. “I’m so sorry. Usually I don’t do stuff like that.”

“Stuff like what?” he asked. “Save the day?”

“No, just…” You were glowing under his praise, but you didn’t want to. What you’d done had been idiotic and so easily could have gone sideways. More so than it seemed like it had. “I’m not usually so impulsive.”

“Must be good to know that you have good impulses then,” he said. “Although, I gotta ask, what was your plan there at the end?”

Plan? There hadn’t been any plan, and judging by his cheeky smile, bumping one cheekbone up against his wire mask, he realized that.

“I figured if I levitated that villain, then they wouldn’t be able to do any damage to anyone except me,” you said. “Of course, then there were a million questions about what could happen after, but the worst case scenario was that only both of us got hurt.”

“Very self-sacrificing,” he said. “You should be a hero. Although, we usually have to get the self-sacrificing impulses beat out of us a bit. But still, you’ve got the quirk for it. I have a friend who’s got a similar one. The world would love you.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head and feeling your brain slap against each side of your skull. “I think this was my first and last foray.”

He clutched his heart jokingly. “Oof, really one to break hearts, aren’t you?”

You froze. Suddenly the pulse that had been between your ears and behind your eyes moved back to your chest and was squeezing uncomfortably. Had he been saying that flirtatiously? Was it a joke you were just taking too seriously? Did this guy just use his hero costume to lay a bunch of girls and you should be kicking him out before he got any ideas?

“I’m really not,” you mumbled, reaching for the water glass again and drinking from it yourself. You felt the tug of an IV hooked up to your arm and you were only part way through the drip. You were stuck, unable to go anywhere until it was done. The good news was, your limbs felt generally fine. Just a little stiff and achy. The only real pain was in your head—the aftermath of using a psychic quirk.

“No,” Kirishima agreed. “You seem too nice for that. And, hero or not, the world was really lucky to have you today. So I just wanted to thank you for helping and, you know, make sure you were okay.”

“I think I’m okay,” you said.

“That’s what the doctor said,” he confirmed. “I’m just glad I caught you.”

So that’s what had happened. You weren’t sure if you’d passed out before or after the villain had landed, but you remembered focusing on trying to lower them to the ground slowly before everything had gone black. But you couldn’t use your telekinesis on yourself, so you’d resigned yourself to plunging to the ground. Not that you’d had much time to make peace with it.

“Sorry you had to save me twice,” you mumbled.

“I’ll save you as many times as I need to.”

Okay, that definitely felt like flirting. His smile was so open and genuine—he didn’t look like a fuckboy, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t want him interested in you, even if he was a hero. Even if he was attractive. Even if he was nice. You couldn’t deal with it. So you put the water back and pursed your lips awkwardly, unsure what to say.

“Oh, I’m Red Riot, by the way,” he said, extending a hand towards you.

You took it, feeling how callused his hand was. It wasn’t hard, like it had looked back when he’d been made of rock and gemstone, but had the feel of a fighter. Yours were soft as a baby’s. “Y/N,” you said.

“I know,” Red Riot said with a grin—his teeth were sharp even when he wasn’t transformed. “We found your ID in your wallet when you were being admitted. So you’re not a Jane Doe.”

“Oh.”

You supposed that was comforting. If you had fallen and broken every bone in your body, at least your family would have found out.

Your attention was diverted when someone walked into your room—a woman in a white coat and definitely wearing a shirt. This must be the doctor.

“Red Riot, you were supposed to press the button when she woke up,” the doctor chastised, though her voice was light.

“Sorry, doc, I was just seeing if she was lucid,” he said with a grin. “She remembers her name and everything that happened.”

“Right,” the doctor said, not looking especially amused. Still, there was a friendly energy between the two of them, and you wondered if heroes had close relationships with hospital staff. They probably found themselves in hospitals often enough—it would make sense. “That will be all, Red Riot.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, standing up from the folding chair he’d been planted in and pushing it against the wall. Then he turned back to you. “I really can’t thank you enough for what you did today. You’re a really good person.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you said, not sure what to do with the praise.

“Anytime.”

He waved and gave you one last smile before heading back, returning to duty. And as you were able to breathe easy again, answering the doctor’s routine questions and making sure that you actually were okay, it felt like Red Riot’s lingering smile never left.

The first thing you learned afterwards was that most ‘life-changing’ events weren’t actually life changing. They confirmed what they confirmed in your worldview, but, largely, life went on as normal. Like, now you knew for sure that you were the kind of person who could act in a crisis. But that was the story you’d been telling yourself before too, so what was the difference? After your day of heroics—and a day of rest, necessitated by the doctor—you went back to work and life became about staring at numbers on a screen once again.

Some of your coworkers asked about what the rescue had been like—apparently bits and pieces had reached the news, and there’d been footage of Red Riot and the others, but thankfully nothing official about you. They were suddenly very interested in your quirk—your quirk had never been a bad one, but you’d never made a habit of talking about it. And they wanted to know about the heroes.

Apparently, Red Riot was a name that some people knew. You didn’t tend to watch news about heroes and villains—you didn’t figure you needed to know much more than a bit of politics and the weather in your day to day—but those who did knew who Red Riot was. He was a rising star in the hero rankings and had graduated a few years ago from an apparently notorious class at U.A.

Even you knew what U.A. was.

You told everyone he was very nice but that you didn’t know much else. You hadn’t talked to any of the other heroes and if wasn’t like you were besties with Red Riot now. You didn’t even know his real name. Or you hadn’t, until some of your more eager coworkers informed you it was Kirishima Eijirou.

But…you didn’t like the questions. You didn’t like people asking you about how attractive or fit he was, people talking about how in love with him they were, as if you should be drooling and agreeing. Because, nice as the boy was, you didn’t feel that way. A pretty face was a pretty face and a kind soul was a kind soul. But you didn’t have a crush because, well, you almost never had crushes.

And the reminder of that, how different you were from your fantasy-having, simpering peers made you remember just how alone you were. How without those feelings, playful though they were, you felt like you would always be alone. Destined to shy away whenever a sweet boy flirted with you, to say no whenever one asked you out, to cry in your too-large bed on the days where you couldn’t convince yourself that just because you’d always been single, didn’t mean you always would be.

The second thing you learned was that, in actuality, life was always changing. Down to a simple train ride.

Public transit was one of your favorite things about living in the city. Sure, waiting for trains was irritating when you were running late, but you loved that on your morning commute you could read a book or do work instead of staring at a license plate in front of you, trying not to shout into gridlocked traffic.

You always made a habit of pausing your reading the stop before yours, just so that you could double check that your bag was tucked close, still zipped, and that all of your belongings were still on your person. You didn’t like fumbling with a bookmark and your purse just as the doors were opening and stumbling out, hoping you hadn’t left something on the seat—on the days that you were lucky enough to get a seat, that was. This time you’d been stuck, pressed against the window at the back of the car, but, when the stop before yours came, you put your book away and began pushing toward the door.

When the doors pinged open, you were one of the first ones out, flooding onto the platform as a crowd eagerly waited to take your spot, the train destined to stay full until sundown. You’d almost made it out of the station when you heard your name shouted above the din of the train pulling away.

You turned back abruptly, forcing the people behind you to split around you as you wondered if you’d made it up, heard a phantom voice without a source. But then you saw someone pushing through the crowd toward you, sharp grin present on his face.

His torso was hidden under a graphic tee, appropriate for how much warmer the weather had gotten in the past few weeks, but you’d recognize him anywhere. Really, even if you hadn’t had the reminders of people shoving phones with his picture in your face, he was unmistakable from his hair to his eyes to his teeth.

“Red Riot?” you said with surprise, noticing that he was getting a few stares from passersby.

“Ah, you can call me Kirishima,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “Red Riot’s just the guy in the uniform.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, wondering if this man, Kirishima, was going to be imprinting himself on all ends of your commute by the end of the year.

“Day off with my friends.”

Kirishima gestured behind him at a few other people, visible now that the station was thinning out. There was a scowling blond who looked vaguely familiar—probably another hero—two other boys and a pink girl with horns.

“You’re coming home from work?”

You looked down. You were one of the youngest people in the office, so you always tried hard to look the part by dressing as professionally as possible in a button-down and slacks. It definitely stood out against his friends’ casual wear. “Guess it’s pretty obvious, huh?”

Kirishima nodded and you wondered if this was your cue to leave. Cool to see you again, bro, but I’ve got a hot date with Netflix and some leftovers, so why don’t you and your friends enjoy a real Friday night while I begin my descent into my final crotchety cat lady persona?

“Kiri’s told us all about your awesome quirk,” the pink girl said, dark eyes sparkling. “He said you were really brave.”

“And he told us how pretty you were, but man, he didn’t do you justice,” one of the boys—the blond who wasn’t frowning—said.

You bit your lip. The praise was flattering but…uncomfortable. The boy’s brows were raised in what could be interpreted as a suggestive manner, and you wondered what Kirishima had said. Something like She was really brave, cool quirk, kinda cute too or Next time I see her I wanna tap that ass.

Honestly, they made you about equally uncomfortable.

“Cut it out, Kaminari,” Kirishima said, having the decency to flush a little bit. “Listen, we were just going to go to the park and hang out if you wanted to come along?”

“Oh, I…”

You glanced at his friends. All of them—except the one—were smiling and looked like friendly, genuine people. And you usually did like hanging out with people when you actually got up the gumption to do so.

But…your mind was always ready to supply you with a lot of ‘buts.’

But, you’d just gotten off work, looked like an idiot in your slacks and needed to get changed.

But, it was uncomfortable to be in a group where everyone knew each other but you.

But, what if any of these boys were interested in you and tried to get with you?

The last thought always felt so stupid—who did you think you were to assume that any man who looked at you might be thinking about you in that way? Not that you honestly assumed they did, but you feared it. And that didn’t feel much less stupid, to be honest.

“That’s really nice of you,” you said, putting extra cheer and enthusiasm in your voice so it didn’t sound so much like a rejection. “But I haven’t had dinner and work was rough, so I don’t think I’d make a very good impression.”

“Oh, no worries!” Kirishima said, his voice holding the same false merriment as yours. Or maybe you were projecting and he was being totally genuine. “Maybe next time.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, managing a laugh. “If you manage to catch me on another part of my commute—and there’s no villain involved—I’ll make sure to say hey.”

“All right, Y/N,” Kirishima said as he and his friends began to walk on. “I’m counting on it.”

And the third thing you learned was something you’d actually known for a long time. When things changed, usually they changed slowly.

You’d only said what you’d said to Kirishima last time because you figured there was no way in hell you’d be seeing him again. After all, it was a big city with hundreds of thousands of residents, and it wasn’t exactly like accountants and pro heroes ran in the same spheres.

But it seemed life was getting a kick out of keeping you to your word these days.

It was a weekend and you’d actually managed to leave your apartment to hang out with friends. As predicted, you actually did have a good time, though that didn’t keep you from dipping out early—mostly because you were never excited about heading home alone at night. So, purse clutched close to your side, you walked through the streets, reassuringly lit by friendly lampposts and the many bars that were still open.

When you saw the shocking head of red hair, you thought your brain was making up. Because why would he be here, walking the streets on your route home again?

Judging by his shirtless state, it was because he was on patrol. Which, you know, made sense.

It didn’t take him long to spot you. Because while you were attentive—and especially alert, since it was after dark—he was a hero. Trained not to miss a thing.

His face brightened at the sight of you and he jogged over.

“Y/N!” he said. “I thought you were gonna say hello next time you saw me.”

“I said on my commute,” you quipped, feeling the burn of awkwardness that he’d caught you looking at him. “I thought heroes needed to be detail-oriented.”

“Touché,” he said. “Well, it seems you’re spared again. Can’t hang out while I’m working.”

“But you can do this?” you asked, gesturing between the two of you.

Kirishima grinned. “Of course! This is just me building a relationship with the citizens!”

You didn’t know if that was a thing or not, but it sounded legit enough for you. At the very least, it you were in no place to accuse Kirishima of not being good at his job.

“So, I know why I’m here,” Kirishima continued. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, I was just hanging out with friends,” you said. “Heading home now.”

“But that stop that we got off at a few weeks back,” he said. “That’s the stop for your house, right? That’s still pretty far from here.”

Ah, so he was attentive. You had to give him points for that, even if the fact that he’d paid so much attention made you feel…squirmy. Your flight reflexes were humming under your skin, waiting for the moment he said something that made you think too close, too far, too soon.

“I feel safer walking,” you said, subconsciously gripping onto your purse’s strap.

Some people felt safer taking the train home in the evening, but even if it doubled, tripled the length of the trip, you preferred being in a space where you could run away if necessary. And in the city, there were always potential witnesses outside, if you were ever to need them.

Kirishima’s brows furrowed a bit. “Do you want me to walk you? I can go with you at least to the end of my beat.”

The humming increased. His offer was gentlemanly, chivalrous. It reminded you of old-timey courting—and you were being crazy. You didn’t want to walk home alone and a hero was offering to accompany you part way. You ignored your nerves “That would be really sweet, thank you.”

So you walked and talked. He had more to say about your quirk and you told him that you’d never had much interest in them. Rather, you were an accountant who worked nine to five and quite happy living a quiet life with modest success. You didn’t need a lot—certainly not fame or recognition—and you were mostly content. You didn’t mention the chronic loneliness or bouts of fear around dying alone, but that was how you got by. Loneliness was something you were always trying to outrun, and most days you managed to. Letting it catch up and thinking about it never made you feel better and talking about it rarely did either. It was something you felt powerless to change, so the best thing you could do was try to be happy with the rest of your life and hope for the best.

“I’ll admit, the fame is pretty different in real life from what you think it’ll be as a teenager,” Kirishima said.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said. “I thought about famous bands and stuff and even when I was a kid I didn’t want the kind of notoriety that they have.”

“I’m not sure I ever wanted that either,” Kirishima said. “I just wanted people to look up to me the way I looked up to Crimson Riot. And now that I’m starting to have that, I like that people can rely on me, even if they don’t know me personally.”

You smiled. “That’s a pretty nice way to look at it.”

“You think?”

“I do.” You nodded. “I can see you on the street and feel safer for your being there.”

Kirishima’s shark teeth showed through his smile. “That’s exactly why I’m allowed to talk to you during my patrol.”

“I see,” you said, beginning to think that there was a lot more to heroes than you’d thought.

“Speaking of which,” he said. “I’d love to take you all the way home, but I can’t abandon my post. And this is kind of the end of it.”

You looked at where you were, about to cross a major intersection. You wondered if there was a hero on the other side who would be happy to walk you to the edge of their patrol too.

“No, thank you so much for walking with me this far,” you said. “You didn’t have to do that and it was really sweet.”

“I was happy to do it!” he insisted. You moved to keep going, about to wave your hand in goodbye when he said, “Wait!”

You stopped, heart beating loudly. Flight, flight, flight.

“I was wondering if you’d like to hang out sometime?” he said, a hint of nervousness and hope on his face. Too much hope. “On purpose, you know?”

“Oh,” you said, wishing you could go back in time. Wishing you could have left faster or maybe not even walked with him, even though the walk had been pleasant and comforting. Wishing you were a different person entirely. “I, um, can’t.”

“Oh, do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, the nerves eclipsing the hope. “If so, I’m really sorry if it seemed like I was assu—”

“No, no, I don’t have a boyfriend,” the words almost pulling a wry laugh out of you. A sardonic choke. “I just…I don’t really date.”

“Oh,” Kirishima said again, short brows scrunching in confusion. “Um, sorry, and you don’t have to answer but…what do you mean?”

“I’m on the asexuality spectrum?” you began, hating how apologetic the words sounded. Hating that you couldn’t seem to find a way to be proud of your sexuality, that you could only wear it as a burden. “I’m demisexual. Which means that I can’t feel attracted to people that I barely know. So dating is just…really hard.”

Kirishima’s brows raised. “So…you need to get to know people really well before you’d even be interested?” he asked slowly, clarifying.

“Yeah,” you said. “Very…slow burn.”

“So you’re saying,” he continued, his face becoming warm with a smile again, “that I’d have to see you more often before seeing you officially.”

“Oh, yeah, uh, not that simple,” you said, nervous and confused that he hadn’t let it go yet. “I don’t casual date either. Like, I wouldn’t want someone showing interest in me and then dating other people while they wait to see if I come around. Which I know isn’t fair. Basically, seeing me would be a lot of risk for potentially no reward, because even if we do spend time together, I might never like you. So, yeah, you understand the dilemma.”

The concern was back on his face, and, somehow, your entire urge to flee went away. You’d scared him off, and there was some comfort in that. Sure, maybe it was running away from your problems, but you were able to trick yourself into thinking it was the mature thing to do because you were telling the truth. You were being honest about what the situation was.

“So this really is hard for you.” There was compassion in his voice that took you aback. That wasn’t him running. That wasn’t him being scared off.

“Um, yeah, it kinda sucks,” you said.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Kirishima said, and you thought, hoped that would be the end of it. But he kept going. “But, honestly, spending more time with you sounds like a really nice thing, even without any expectations or anything on it.”

Some boys had made this offer in the past. And it sounded nice on paper, but no matter what you did, you couldn’t remove the expectations in your mind. The fact that you knew why they’d looked at you in the first place, what they were looking for, and that you were still in a position to lead them on. You always made it so hard for yourself, even though you just wanted with everything in your heart for it to be easy.

“And, just so you know,” Kirishima said, glancing down shyly, “I don’t date a lot either. I’m not sure what kind of impression I’ve given off, but really, I don’t have that much time because of this career, and the time that I do I try to spend with my friends. So, it would make more sense to, you know, try and do that anyway. I just…as a hero, I often see the worst of people and so I want to spend all my other time with good ones. And you seem like a really good person.”

“I…” You had one last shot. One last thing to show the worst of yourself and see if he’d turn around on you. “When I’ve tried dating before, I’m not the best version of myself. I get really uncomfortable, so I treat people in a way that’s less than they deserve. I don’t think you’d like that version of me.”

“It’s a good thing we wouldn’t be dating then,” Kirishima said. “Just…two friends trying to become better people.”

You were at war with yourself. He was saying all the right things but you were still so scared. Of someone liking you when you couldn’t like them. Of you falling for them after they’d put you in the friend zone. Of falling in love and it not working out. Of falling in love and getting everything.

“How about this,” Kirishima said. “I’ll be here tomorrow—my shift starts at six. And if we happen to bump into each other by accident, well, that seems to be our pattern, so how bad could it be?”

You smiled, having a quick response for that one. “I could be held hostage by a villain, pass out, and need you to take me to the hospital.”

“Well, at least we know we can get out of that one.”

“I suppose so,” you said. It was casual. It was literally the lowest stakes invitation you’d ever heard in your life. If you couldn’t say yes to this, then what were you doing? “I…okay. I might see you tomorrow.”

He grinned at you and you became immediately convinced that his cheer was totally genuine. He was just a happy guy, and maybe nothing he said had any innuendo or hidden meaning to it. It probably never had. “Is it okay if I give you my number? I just want to know that you get home safe.”

In the bright lights of the busy street, you’d almost forgotten that it was quickly becoming the middle of the night, and that you’d had such unease when you’d first stepped out into it. You’d felt totally safe for a minute, even in this strange world you lived in.

“Okay,” you said. “If I’m not home in twenty minutes, you have permission to get worried.”

“I’ll send a search party,” he said. “I know a guy.”

You laughed. “Sounds good. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise…”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

“We’ll see.”

He nodded. “We’ll see.”

It was half a promise, the start of a maybe friendship. It was probably nothing at all, you had to remind yourself for the whole walk home, otherwise you might go crazy with nerves.

But, also, it might be good.

Time would only tell.

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 37

Carry On My Wayward Son

The NINE Engines

"Alex"

Site Hotel Bravo - Lab

Kicking the door open, Alex quickly dashed through the squeaky halls while Jack held on to his shoulder for support. The alarms echoed through the facility and everyone else was gone. Whoever was compromised among his teammates must be in a pinch right now, and the best thing the duo could do is plant the charges.

Alex paced through the halls and checked every corner, Jack continued guarding his six and they checked each room for intel. Luckily, they stumbled upon a framed layout of the building.

"Thank Goodness, a goddamn map." Jack sighed and looked at the thing, starting at the huge red star that said "You are Here"

"Any idea where the engine room is?" Alex turned to him, while leaning by the door, his body angled to peek at the hallway.

"Well for starters, this is an engine room." He turned and squinted his eyes in disbelief.

"But it's empty." Alex pondered.

"Shit. They already loaded this one." He continued.

"There are 9 other engine rooms out here. And with 10 engines on a single rocket, this thing was meant to go far." he explained and ran back to Alex.

"The next one's just on the other side of this corridor." He muttered and they immediately kicked open the second engine room.

"Empty. Eight more. Let's get a move on." Alex sighed as they continued kicking more doors and discovering more rooms. It looked like they were all empty.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking Alex?" Jack asked as they slowly creeped on the stairs down to the lower floor of the facility.

"If you're thinking about Samantha right now, then yes. But I hope you're not because that would be weird." he retorted as the ground shook violently. The two of them felt the heat emanating from the area below them and it didn't bode well for the duo.

"Focus, kid. Now do you see where I'm getting at?" He replied, proving his point. Alex slowly nodded and stepped further down the stairs.

"How can we attach an explosive charge on a whole rocket?"  Alex asked the million dollar question and was greeted with complete silence, other than the sound of their footsteps descending the stairs.

"If only we still have one engine… It could be enough to start a chain reaction of explosives." Jack hummed at the last step. The underground floor was where the rumbling was coming from. From the looks of it, the rocket was about to launch.

The launch grounds were already deserted and Shepherds Research team were already in a sheltered bunker somewhere far away from here. 

"Fuck. How did Shepherd afford this bullshit off radar?" Jack cursed and looked at the towering rocket as it slowly hummed to life.

"There!" Jack pointed at the doors on the other side of the launch room. 

"I trust you could stop those bastards from pushing that button." He nodded. Alex wanted to reason with him and stop his heroic act, because he was living proof that it won't end well for him, but the urgency of the matter at hand made him press on with his orders. It was the only shot they could do it.

"I'll see you on the far side." Alex muttered and Jack nodded, as he assured him that they both will make it out of this one.

Alex thought Jack's task was the hard one, it turns out that his 'stop the launch' mission was harder than he'd expected.

He peeked his head behind the glass of the launch room, as he surveyed three researchers who looked eager for the launch and the three big guys they once met back at the ship. Apparently, they survived the sinking ship part and here they are now.

He could go guns blazing, but the reinforced glass begged to differ. Standard bullets won't penetrate through these kinds of glass even at point blank range.

"Seriously, why do the bad guys always get the good stuff?" He complained, tilting his head to the guards.

The researchers looked unarmed while the big guys wielded AK-47s, which slung across their backs. The smiles on the researcher's faces lit, and that didn't mean well for Alex and his team. He needed to act fast and halt the launch. But he doesn't know how.

They were already mouthing the countdown when Alex knocked on the door and immediately hid. He never expected someone to open the door but he was glad someone did.

A huge blast shattered the room, sending enemies unconscious on the floor, struggling to get up. Alex's eyes focused and looked for the red button but it looked like he was a second to late. The ground shook as smoke billowed from the rocket, covering the whole area with smoke.

Alex knew he had to stay low for oxygen and he did, pressing the button for their comms he tried to alert Jack about the situation.

"Jack! I was too late! We need to get out of this place now! Jack?!" He roared as the loud rumbling noise of the launching rocket filled his ears making him temporarily deaf to any other noise.

He couldn't see the rocket rise up to the sky but he could sense it using the sound of the engine. It was getting away without the bang they were expecting.

"Jack?"

"Run kid! Away from that place!" Jack warned, panting as he did it. Alex quickly got up to his foot and swung his hand, clearing away the smoke as he dashed to the exit.

Halfway through the dark tunnel from which they entered, Alex heard a mighty booming noise, assuming it was the rocket that exploded to pieces. But he had no time to celebrate as the cave started to crumble and collapse just above him.

His elbows and arms sensed the pain of the rocks poking through his shirt as he crawled. 

"Shit." He muttered as he felt the rocks fall from where he came from and his foot felt the heat of the now enclosed area.

"I got ya." Jack caught his hand and pulled him up but his metal leg was already stuck between the rocks, making it hard for him to escape.

"I can't pull you anymore!" Jack yelled and Alex let go of him, as he quickly removed the lock of his metal leg, as Jack pulled him free of the collapsing tunnel.

The two panted heavily and Jack supported Alex as they made their way to the other side of the base and met up with the rest of the squad. They didn't need to tell them how their task ended as it was already evident based on the falling rocket debris from the sky.

Extraction was the hardest part of the trip. With Alex losing his metal leg, he wasn't able to help the heavily injured Ghost and Roach and the weakening Alexandra. He frowned at the view as he sat there by the plane, looking at the pained expression from his comrades. Shepherd was also with them, all tied up and his face was expressionless. Alex's blood boiled at the sight of him, making him want to beat him up for another round, but he knew it wasn't necessary as the man would not cooperate. The former general's defeat was too fresh and he still had little pride to keep information from the team.

With Roach continuously bleeding, Nikolai decided to stop by a small town he once belonged in, the team settled on a small hospital which housed troops whom Nikolai deemed were his allies.

From there, they helped patch up Roach and tried to add more blood in him as he lost a lot. Luckily, he was able to hang on and is now resting.

"Rough day, huh." Soap sighed, sitting beside Alex and crossing his arms as they rested in the Hospital's waiting room. 

"Yeah. I already missed my leg." Alex commented, tapping whatever's left on his thigh, chuckling at how it looked.

"Well, your leg could be replaced, you know. I know a guy. Actually, I'm not supposed to tell this to you yet, but… Samantha kinda asked me for help. Not me technically, but you get the idea." Soap rambled and all Alex did was look at him quizzically.

"Listen. She - OW!" Soap winced in pain as France teasingly pulled his ear.

"I knew you couldn't keep a secret. Okay Alex, what did he spill?" France looked at Alex seriously, and smiled as soon as she realized Alex doesn't know anything.

"You're lucky he didn't catch up on your babbling." France rubbed Soap's hair and smiled, leaving as soon as Price once again asked for her help.

"Hmm.. Seems like she had you on her ropes." Alex teased.

"On the outside." Soap added confidently. Alex didn't bother decoding what that meant, but he was glad they found each other in a situation like this.

"Hey Soap."

"Aye?"

"Do you have international minutes?" 

He nodded and fished his phone from his pocket and handed it to Alex. And after thanking the man, he quickly typed the numbers he memorized and dialed Samantha.

"Hello?" Her voice filled his mind almost automatically. He was indeed smitten by this woman as he smiled goofily on the phone.

"God, I miss that voice so much." Alex exhaled.

"Alex. I miss you too. How are you? Is everyone safe? Are you hurt?" her questions flooded Alex's ears.

"I'm fine Samantha. We had a few injured people but we're fine. We got General Shepherd."

"Oh thank goodness! That's one step closer to ending this war." She excitedly said over the phone.

"I wish I could hug you right now." Alex said out of the blue.

"Yeah. Me too. I'm with John's Mom downtown. We're helping her up with her shopping." she said and he could feel her snickering on the other side.

"Looks like fun!" 

"Yeah. I'm seeing a lot of places here, and all I ever imagined is walking around the place with my arms wrapped on yours." Alex couldn't help but blush at her words.

"I love you." He muttered.

"I love you too. I gotta go, duty calls." She chuckled and hung up the phone, leaving Alex in a dreamy state. 

He fished a small box from his bag and opened it, showcasing a beautiful ring that he'd been keeping for quite a while now.

"When this war is over…" he muttered, looking at Soap who he forgot was beside him all along. But the guy was already peacefully asleep, so he kept his phone with him for a while so as to not disturb the resting soldier.

Next Chapter : The EIGHT-Thirty Appointment

Notification Squad my Beloved

@ricinbach @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @whimsywispsblog @bumblingbee1

[fallingappleshurt]

Secrets to Save You

Its here after way too long of a wait!

Tommy plays baseball, Techno has a few issues in the Nether, and his family gets increasingly worried

This took longer then expected because I just really didn’t want to write this chapter but then next one should be out soon!!

Chapter 3. Rising Restlessness

TW: non graphic violence, swearing, fighting

It had been three weeks since Techno and the Captain had started working together and Techno was exhausted. It wasn’t constant trips to the Nether, he usually only had to go twice a week. It was gathering supplies late into the night and the constant anxiety that they were going to be caught.

He had to convince himself that the guards weren’t giving him weird looks, that the people in the fourth ring weren’t going to snitch on him, that Tommy wasn’t going to snoop in his room and find the maps, that there weren’t hundreds of eyes always on him.

His nerves were fried, and his family could tell. Phil resting a hand on his shoulder, Wilbur’s worried glances, Tommy straight up telling him he looked tired- or in his words; “You look like shit,” but was obviously concerned. He said that Techno should ‘relax’.

Techno guessed that was why when Tommy had a school day off, he drug Techno to a baseball field with his classmates. He wasn’t really interested in sports but after Phil said someone should be keeping an eye on Tommy, he agreed to go.

Tubbo was there, looking healthy and happy, as he waved at Tommy from the metal bleachers.

Techno sat down next to him, looking over the field, it was a dusty little square with four pieces of metal sticking out of the ground, kids scrambling to random positions on the field, Tommy was in the middle of the field, casually tossing a ball.

“Why aren’t you playing with the others?” Techno asked Tubbo, who deflated slightly.

“My dad wants me to take it easy, I’m lucky he even let me out of the house today.”

Techno nodded, “Makes sense, how’s your chest?”

“It aches a little but other than that I’m fine.”

They sat in a comfortable silence while more kids trickled onto the field. Techno watched Tommy throw a ball at a kid with a bat.

“What is Tommy doing?” He asked.

“He’s the pitcher,”

“What’s that?”

“He throws the ball for the batter,” Tubbo explained, pointing to someone standing across from Tommy.

“Uh huh- and what’s the batter?”

Tubbo laughed, “Do you not know what Baseball is? Or how to play it?”

“Uhhhh, no,” Techno raised an eyebrow.

“I forgot you’re really weird, I’ll explain the game, so-”

“Wait hang on-”

“So there are two teams,” Tubbo continued, ignoring Techno’s interjection. Tubbo described the different teams and the field positions and point systems, Techno didn't get a lot of it but he appreciated the thought.

He watched as Tommy reared back and threw the ball with force Techno didn’t know he possessed. The batter missed and the person behind him called out, “Strike one!” and tossed the ball back to Tommy.

Techno watched as Tommy made the other boy strike out three times, he made it look easy.

“He’s really good at this,” Techno commented.

Tubbo nodded, “Oh yeah he’s our best pitcher, can’t bat for shit but he’s got a good right hook,” He paused, “Good left hook too.”

Techno chuckled, watching the game continue, other kids slapping Tommy on the back. Occasionally he’d look over to the bleachers, Tubbo would cheer and Techno would give a thumbs up.

After about an hour Tommy jogged up onto the bleachers, sweat beaded on his forehead.

“What’d you think?” Tommy asked, Techno shrugged.

“Decent.”

Tommy looked elated.

“You should come down and play with us, we could use another player.” Tommy gestured to the field, Techno shook his head.

“I don’t play sports-”

“Yeah yeah I remember, just figured it was worth a try.” Tommy said, jumping down the bleachers, “Last time you tried you couldn’t get it and kept making that little grr noise.”

“I do not make a ‘grr’ noise!” He shot back but Tommy was either too far to hear or just didn’t care. Techno guessed the latter.

“You do,” Tubbo said, nudging his shoulder, “I’ve heard it.”

“Lies,” Techno said, putting his hand in front of Tubbo’s face, as Tubbo laughed.

They watched Tommy for another hour before the game started to dissolve and they went back to their apartment, Tommy telling them more about pitching.

Later that night Techno went back to the Nether. When he had dropped Tubbo off, Captain slipped him a note saying that he was running low on gold and knew there were small pockets in the Nether.

Techno didn’t have anything to really mine it with but he did have a rusty trowel and the netherrack was softer then stone so it might work.

Techno moved quickly and slightly to the portal, heart in his throat the whole time. He was hoping that after going to the Nether a few times that it would lessen his anxiety but it hadn’t, in fact it felt worse. He pushed the feeling down, he had a job to do.

After lighting the portal and stepping through Techno headed west, he remembered seeing a large pocket gold in that direction. On the way he grabbed a few blue fungi for Skeppy, he didn’t ask for any but Techno knew he’d find some use for it.

Once he spotted the sparkling gold snippets he knelt down and pulled out the trowel. He started chipping away at the netherrack, ripping small hunks from the rock and tucking it into the pouch on his belt. Captain said he didn’t need a lot so Techno didn’t want to stay for too long but he also didn’t want to come back.

He was picking over the vein one last time when he heard a howl of rage. He whipped around, grabbing his sword to see a group of Piglins charging at him all with raised swords and cocked crossbows. He realized he couldn’t take them all at once, quickly pocketing the trowel, he turned and started sprinting.

More Piglins came tearing at him from other directions, panic rising in his chest, Techno ran into the blue forest in hopes to lose them. He didn’t want to lead them to the portal, not knowing if they could cross through or not.

The roots of the fungi ripped and pulled at his ankles and Techno almost tripped multiple times while the Piglins barely seemed to notice them. After realizing he probably wouldn’t be able to outrun them, Techno started looking for something to climb onto, to get the high ground.

Only to then trip and faceplant into the netherrack.

Techno rolled away just in time to barely miss a golden sword to the back, taking out his own sword, Techno kicked the closest Piglin away, and scrambled to his feet.

An arrow shot past his ear as he lashed out at another Piglin then clashed swords with another. There was no point in holding out and letting more Piglins gather so he looked for escape options.

He could try climbing up one of the trees but he could still be shot. There was a huge, sharp, slope to his left so that was out of the question. The forest seemed to thicken more to the right and the only way he knew to get back to the portal was back through a crater. Trying to get a look at his escape Techno realised an issue.

There was a huge line of fire blocking his path, it looked like a ghast and piglin got into a fight, debris still littered around.

Mentally recapping his options were 1) try to get up the slope and most likely fall or get shot into a horde of Piglins. 2) He could try the fungi forest and get cornered again or 3) he could run through fire. Great.

The fire was his best option but he’d really rather not be set on fire today.

The choice was made for him as he disarmed a Piglin and stepped back, one managed to jump forwards and slash his shin.

Sharp stinging pierced his skin, adrenaline overriding his indecision, Techno turned and rushed through the fire, trying to ignore the heat licking at his legs. He weaved through the forest and under rocky overhangs and didn’t stop until he dove through the portal and knocked out the purple.

He collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily. That was too close for comfort, he didn’t even know what he did that made the Piglins so upset, he was wearing the pin!

The adrenaline was wearing off and Techno could feel pain searing up his leg, the ends of his pants were scorched and ashy and the skin around was red and swelling. The cut on his shin was long and sallow, slowly oozing blood.

There was nothing he could do, Techno sighed, twisting his pant leg to try and cover the wound. He stood up, brushing dust and dirt off his clothes and face, and climbed out of the cave.

He shuffled through the fourth ring, making a pit stop at Skeppy’s and throwing the fungi through the hole in his broken window then headed towards the Captain’s house.

Techno tried to walk as normally as possible to avoid stares from the people who were just trying to get to work. He managed to get to the Captain house and dropped the nuggets of gold into a flower pot by the door then set off home.

He didn’t know the time but by judging the amount of people out in the streets Tommy would be at school and Phil, hopefully Wilbur too, would be at work.

Techno hobbled into their apartment and felt a rush of relief upon seeing the place empty. After stashing his sword under his bed he went into the bathroom and pulled out the first aid kit. He gingerly cleaned the wound and wrapped a bandage around it.

He was trying to push off sleep so he started on housework, dishes, laundry, and tidying up. He stitched up the ends of his pants then gave in to the tiredness and fell asleep on the couch.

Someone prodded at his shoulder, rubbing at his eyes he saw Wilbur leaning over him, “Oh thank god you’re alive.”

Techno sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes, “Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Wilbur licked his lips nervously, “We were all pretty worried when you weren’t home this morning,” He trailed off, Techno looked away, he forgot they assumed he was going to duel.

“I-I’m, uh, sorry about that, I’m fine.”

“It’s alright,” Wilbur paused, “but are you okay? You’ve been really, uh, weird lately.”

“What?”

“You’ve look like a wreck, I haven’t seen you like this in years-”

“I’m fine Wilbur, don’t worry about it.” Techno said flippantly.

“Okay but whenever you say to ‘not worry about something’ that makes me worry more.”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

Wilbur let out a defeated laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Should’ve known you were just going to blow off the question.”

Techno raised an eyebrow, “Okay, uh rude.”

“Yeah I’m definitely being the rude one here-”

“You kind of are-”

“I’m trying to make sure you are okay and you’re being an asshole but that’s normal for you so I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“I told you I’m fine, you’re the one whos being an asshole.”

Wilbur shook his head, “We have been worried about you for weeks! Those damn duels are becoming more and more frequent and you have been acting like a paranoid cunt!”

“Why are you all so hung up on the duels?” Techno glared at Wilbur, rising to his feet. He was trying to fight the rising panic in his chest, he didn’t trust himself to not slip up about the Nether. “I’ve been doing them forever but now everyone has a problem with it?”

“We’ve always had a problem with them! Techno you could get seriously injured! We just let you go on with them because you’re so damn stubborn!”

“Well thank you so much for allowing me to provide for you guys, its a fucking wonderful opportunity.” Techno threw his hands out to the sides, Wilbur sighed again.

“It’s impossible to have a conversation with you-”

“With me? You change the subject every minute, I’m getting whiplash.”

Wilbur groaned, “That’s it, I’m too tired for this, I tried to care but no it’s over. You win. You fucking win.” He stalked off to his room and closed the door much too loudly.

Techno flopped back down onto the couch, rubbing his temples, that was bad. He didn’t want to fight with Wilbur but he didn’t know what to do.

So he sat there, staring at the wall and trying to formulate some type of apology but kept coming up short. He got up and tried to start something for dinner, willing Tommy or Phil to get home and fill the quiet of the apartment.

They had a box of pasta and a can of beans, Techno opted for the pasta and started boiling water. Phil came home a little while later, talking about his weird day at work and Techno was thankful for the background noise, the anxiety adrenaline was starting to wear off when Techno remembered Tommy.

He looked at the clock, 6:34, Tommy should have been home by now. Logically he knew Tommy was probably just running late but all he could think about was a guard grabbing him off the side of the road and shipping him off to god knows where.

Techno tapped his fingers nervously against the counter, “Did Tommy say he was going to be late?”

Phil shook his head, “I didn’t hear him say anything like that, he’s probably fine though, you know how he is.”

Techno nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t stop thinking about Tommy, he could be kidnapped or hurt, waiting for someone to come help him. It hit Techno that some of the guards could’ve taken him and his blood ran cold. They could’ve grabbed Tommy just like they grabbed him and he would just be gone, they wouldn’t be able to find him again.

What if someone noticed him sneaking out, connected the dots, and grabbed Tommy as a hostage. They could try to trade him for money or resources, they could report everything-

“-hno? Techno!” Techno was knocked back into reality with pots clattering and fire sizzling filing his ears. The pot was boiling over. He rushed to take off the lid and turn off the heat.

“Techno, are you okay?” Phil placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m worried about Tommy, he should be here by now.” Techno couldn’t stop his hand from shaking.

“Do you want to go look for him? We’d probably intercept him on his way home from Tubbo’s.”

Techno nodded, he grabbed his shoes as Phil called for Wilbur. He whipped the door open and rushed down the rusty stairs, Phil and Wilbur trying to catch up.

It was cold out, the sun was setting and the wind was sharp and strong. Techno moved quickly along Tommy’s normal route, eyes flickering frantically from building to building, he tried to pick up on every sound and movement.

Wilbur came up behind him,“Techno, calm down. He’s probably just running late.”

“What if he’s not?” Techno didn’t voice his other thoughts and continued down the street, getting increasingly worried.

They had been looking for 10 minutes and it was getting darker which put Phil on edge too.

“He should’ve a least started home by now.”

“You guys worry too much, Tommy is a smart kid, he’s fine.” Wilbur said reassuringly, Techno could hear the nervousness pricking in his voice.

Techno heard something crash up ahead and ran, skidding to a halt to see Tommy trying to set someone’s trash can up straight. He ran up to him, looking him over.

“Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah?” Tommy gave him a weird look, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Techno couldn't express in words how much he wanted to simultaneously slap the kid upside the head and hold him and never let go.

“I was just worried, you were late and it’s dark out.” He tried to coat his words with his normal nonchantelness.

Wilbur and Phil came up behind him, visibly relaxing when they spotted Tommy.

“See! I told you guys he was fine, you were worried for nothing.” Wilbur said, satisfied.

“You guys were that worried about me?” Tommy asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

“It was mainly Techno-” Wilbur was cut off as Techno elbowed him.

“Aww, well, sorry I didn’t mean to worry you. I was trying to take a shortcut through the alleys and got lost.”

Techno sighed, Tommy was fine. He wasn’t trying to escape anyone, he wasn’t hurt, everything was fine. He could feel Tommy’s eyes bore into him but he ignored it as Wilbur walked forwards, messing up Tommy’s hair and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Let's get back home, hopefully Techno didn’t burn dinner.”

“Oh fuck the pasta-” Techno was okay with ignoring his and Wilbur’s argument, he was too drained to want to fight anymore tonight.

Everything seemed alright except Tommy was oddly quiet the rest of the night.