#and still has some of my close friends getting death threats to this day for old platonic fics lmfao

[ruthlesslistener]

We need to make you a rainworld mod that smoothes out the pixels. Awesome rage quitting game. Tho it is a shame the fan base is. Crazy.

PLEASE I AM CLAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE (the physical limitations of whatever it is with my eyes/brain that makes RW a confusing headache-inducing mess for me to look at) I WANT TO PLAY IT SO BAAADDDD

as for crazy fanbases, i really can't complain, i used to be in the seraph of the end fanbase and that was deadass the worst fandom experience in my life. i doubt that rw would be worse that that clusterfuck lmfao

[temis-de-leon]

Demon Brothers as Single Fathers

What if the brothers already had a kid when MC first appeared in the Devildom?

Characters: demon brothers, gn! kid and gn! MC

Part 2

Masterlist

CW: lesson 16, death during childbirth mentioned, but there's nothing explicit. Some brothers are better fathers than others, but they all love their kid with a passion. Romantic interest towards MC at the end

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Lucifer

There´s no way he’s having a kid with a random woman. I already posted a headcanon regarding demonic pregnancies, stating them as difficult, so my guess here is that he had a long-term relationship and his partner died during childbirth.

Of course, he’d cope with her death just like he coped with Lilith’s: hiding his feelings. He had his sister’s room hidden in the House of Lamentation without any of his brothers knowing, so it makes sense that he’d hide everything regarding his former partner from everyone, including his child.

Now, don’t get me wrong, he loves that kid, but he is who he is. A strict parent that wants his family to be perfect, obedient and loyal to Lord Diavolo. His child might get an obvious special treatment, but they still have to reach their father’s standards.

All of that, mixed with the load of paperwork he has to take care of on the daily, makes bonding time very limited.

When MC arrives, he makes sure they know not to bother the kid, his threats visible to anyone with eyes.

We know MC, however. They meddle and they become friends with most of the brothers very easily, so it’s understandable that the kid wants to get close to them too.

Lucifer tries really hard to break that friendship, not trusting MC at all, but the more effort he puts in that task, the more effort his kid puts in disobeying him. And we all know Satan is helping them just to anger Lucifer.

It all reaches an end when MC frees Belphie from the attic.

The kid doesn’t understand the situation, why their new friend is all bruised and bloody on the floor and why their uncle is laughing in such evil way.

Lucifer only gets how much his kid loves the human when he sees their distraught over MC’s death and their tears of relief when MC reappears in perfect conditions.

Time passes and the family is whole again, granting the kid a new feeling of happiness and comfort they’ve never felt before. Lucifer feels obligated to rethink the situation when he sees that.

Then comes the last day of MC’s stay at the Devildom and he knows he’ll regret not showing his desire of deepening their relationship before they leave.

His kid and his brothers are not the only ones that need MC anymore.

Mammon

I kind of imagine him having a child with a one-night stand, to be honest. For the sake of this fic, the other parent is not in the picture, but Mammon loves kids, so there’s no doubt he’d keep his own.

And oh, how much he spoils them. He saves money just for them. Does he go right back into bankruptcy after that? Yes, but the intention is there, you know.

I also think the brothers would use the child to blackmail him, like “you’re such a scumbag, Mammon, you’re going to disappoint the kid”. A dick move, but they are assholes to Mammon most of the time.

And then comes MC, rocking Mammon’s world and, by extent, the child’s.

No matter how old the kid is, they can sense their father’s love towards the human. It’s almost painful to see and it brings so much second hand embarrassment, but Mammon’s happiness makes everything worth it.

Especially when MC starts to defend Mammon from his brothers’ insults.

The kid promotes themselves from child to matchmaker. 

They spoil their uncles' plans with MC so they can spend time with their father, boasting Mammon’s confidence and telling MC how good he is and how good of a couple they’d make.

At first MC thinks it’s pure childhood innocence, not suspecting the kid is acting on ulterior motives, but Mammon knows what his kid is doing.

He tries to defend his status as too good to be interested in a mere human, let alone date them. Of course, the child sees right through his bullshit.

No one stands a chance against his little hellspawn, not even him.

Suffice to say, MC and Mammon establish their relationship long before the year ends.

Leviathan

I love Levi, I truly do, but c’mon guys. I doubt he has any friends outside the online world, let alone a partner; we can all agree he’s a virgin. So, for him to have a child, I think he would’ve had to be either really lucky or unlucky (depending on how you see it), meaning that his brothers took him out of his comfort zone so he could lose his virginity and he left that one girl pregnant.

I think the mother wouldn’t have wanted to be in a relationship with him, leaving him more reclusive than ever. He needed his brothers’ help to lose his virginity and now not even the mother of his child wanted to stay with him? Yeah, he’s not leaving his room ever again.

It’s difficult for him to bond with the kid at the beginning due to the lack of knowledge on how to take care of a child and the kid being born out of a loveless meaningless one-night stand.

He watches and buys anything family-related, finally understanding that the way he became a father doesn’t have to influence their relationship, so he steps up really quick.

Don’t worry, the brothers offer their help the whole time.

They spend most of the time in his room, bonding over anime, manga, videogames and cosplay, especially about TSL. He also forces himself to get out of his room more often for the sake of his kid, even if it’s minimal.

He still distrusts MC when they arrive, not paying them any attention, but he has to reconsider a little bit when he sees the kid so interested in them.

The whole TSL quiz happens and he’s surprised to see not only Mammon and Beel helped MC, but his child too. He feels betrayed and irrationally mad at all of them for an hour or less, just until the kid insists on MC’s genuine interest on TSL and convinces him to give them a chance.

After that, their friendship develops quicker than anyone could've ever anticipated, as well as Levi’s crush on MC.

Another kid that evolves into a matchmaker, although their methods are more dramatic due to being based on anime and manga.

The rest of the brothers have a lot of fun witnessing the whole thing.

Satan

My man has contacts, he knows people all around the kingdom, he fucks. I’m not sure if the child came out of a long-term relationship or a one-night stand, but his contacts definitely have something to do with it.

His whole mission is to treat his child better than Lucifer ever treated him.

No baby voice at all, what nonsense is that? When he reads to them at night he uses different voices according to each character, same as when they play.

The type of parent that wants to respect his kid so much he kind of treats them like an adult. Full conversations and everything. More like monologues, actually, but Satan is patient enough to wait for his kid’s answer, even if it’s a babble.

Cats everywhere. Toys, clothes, bedsheets… You know the drill.

Overall, Satan puts his whole heart into his child’s development.

And when MC arrives, he’s only curious about them because Lucifer is on edge. He’d prefer if his child was left to their own devices, living their life in peace with no human bothering them for no reason.

Then he swaps bodies with Lucifer.

Boy oh boy.

The moment he sees his child running to his brother instead of him, he’s spitting fire. MC intervenes just when the kid starts to get scared, something he’s extremely grateful for.

After the pact is made, both him and the kid see MC in a completely different light, but he doesn’t think about taking them out on a date until his child trips and falls while playing in the garden.

MC tends to them, dries their tears and cleans their bloody knees before using some cute bandaids on them. Cat-themed bandaids.

How could he say no to that?

Asmodeus

One-night stand one-night stand one-night stand one-night stand.

One-night stand? YES.

I’m surprise he doesn’t have a legion of children, Hercules style, but oh well, what do I know.

I like to think the mother tried to stay, but Asmo is a certified narcissist who loves spending time with himself and who’d also love the idea of having a mini him running around, ready to try new clothes on every opportunity and match him.

It’d be difficult to stay in a family like that, with a partner that monopolizes the child’s time so selfishly. It’s bad, but I could understand if the mother chose to leave. I don’t even know if Asmo would care, given that it was a one-night stand with no feelings involved, and he’d probably believe himself to be enough.

Asmo is as dirty minded as ever and he still has various relationships, but he tries to tone down really hard, at least in front of his kid.

They’re partners in crime above all, their chemistry is insane. ‘Don’t talk to me or my son ever again’ type of relationship.

Although the kid doesn’t have Asmo’s charming powers, they’re cunning. Doe eyed with a shiny glare and a brilliant smile, who could say no to them? Sometimes they even fool their own father.

Both of them are pretty superficial, but kind-hearted at the bottom of their hearts. It just takes some time and effort to see that.

The kid treats MC the same way Asmo does, although they have no ill intent, they just want to be like their father. So when Asmo starts to show some interest in MC, pursuing a friendship, so does his child.

Partners in crime, remember? It doesn’t take long for the child to act coy and cute, turning MC’s interest to Asmo. Again, no charm nor manipulation, but a little help from an innocent hand never hurts anyone, does it?

Beelzebub

I don’t have a single idea where the child came from, but if there’s something I’m sure of it’s that they’re each other’s best friend.

Beel takes them everywhere, in his arms, strapped to his chest or sitting on his shoulders, he doesn’t care, but they’re together all the time.

Scared to his very core of losing them, but tries not to be overbearing, trusting his brothers to take care of them when he can’t, mostly Lucifer and Belphie.

They're the most important reason to control himself, Beel feels guilty when he lets loose and scares his child. Seeing your father eat a column can’t be pleasant, after all.

Another one that ignores MC when they get there, preferring spending time with his child. Now more than ever, since Belphie apparently went to the human realm as an exchange student.

When he breaks MC’s wall and they’re forced to share his room, he’s introduced to the dilemma of whether letting them sleep in Belphie’s bed while he shares his own with his kid or letting them sleep in his bed, with his kid in Belphie’s and him on the floor.

He’s very reluctant to let anyone but his twin sleep in the other bed. His nightmares lessen when he shares his space with the child as well, so Beel’s very conflicted.

MC offers to be the one sleeping on the floor, something he immediately refuses, so he finally agrees to let them both sleep in his bed while he’s on the floor.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

It isn’t until MC defends him from his own brother that he starts to think of them as a true friend. He trusts them with his kid and he even feels okay leaving them alone while he’s out doing his own things.

Days after MC goes back to sleeping in their room, his child confides in him how much they miss having the human with them and Beel can’t help but agree.

He asks for his child’s permission before taking MC out on a date.

Belphegor

Had the child with a situationship, but the mother thought he would be too absent to be a good father. She tried to leave with the kid, but Belphie insisted on keeping them. Being one of the Avatars of the Devildom, he had the upper hand.

As much as he tries to be present, he can’t help but fall asleep most of the day, so Beel takes the role of second father. Still, Belphie wants to be in the same room as his kid all the time, even when unconscious.

He’s able to enter other people’s dreams, so his favourite way of bonding is at night, interrupting his child’s nightmares and transforming them into beautiful dreams where they can do whatever they want to do.

He even made versions of Lilith and Beel for them to be together during those dreams.

Kind of entitled, to be honest.

Belphie is a brat and so is his kid, but the child at least has the benefit of the doubt.

When Lucifer imprisons him he’s ready to destroy the house. The only way he can talk to his kid now is through dreams and even then he isn’t sure what to tell them. In the end he decides to let the kid be, but he’s always on edge, trapped, not knowing what’s happening until everyone goes to bed.

MC’s presence feels like a gift. A pathetic gift, but a gift nonetheless.

He asks about his kid and he seethes when MC tells him they’re becoming friends, how much they like spending time with the child.

He focuses so much on revenge that he doesn’t even realize what the kid could think of him if he carried along with his plans; how they could feel when all of it is done.

Killing MC is satisfying and leaves him wanting so much more.

That look from his child, his own blood, takes it all away.

Why are they crying? Why are they hiding away from him? Trying to reach MC’s corpse despite Lucifer’s words or Beel’s grabbing hands, screaming in terror when uncle Mammon doesn’t answer their questions.

Then MC reappears, looking as perfect as ever, and Belphie is overwhelmed with relief, convinced that maybe his kid will stop looking at him that way.

But that doesn’t happen.

He sleeps with Beel that night, feeling lonelier than ever, hands aching and reaching for a smaller body that isn't there. He can’t find them in their dreams when he falls asleep and when morning arrives and he goes to the bathroom, he makes sure there’s no blood under his fingernails.

It takes days before his kid can even look at him without that angry pout on their face. They tell him they’ve been sleeping with MC, listening to their advice so they can mend their relationship with him.

Ever since then, Belphie can’t help but blush whenever MC is in the room.

.

.

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Tagging: @deepestartisanhumanoidshark

[throneofsapphics]

the ebb and flow of fate part 3

(part one) (part two) (part four) (part five) (epilogue)

Cazriel x f!Reader

Summary: Then they looked at each other, some sort of silent communication passing before their expressions shifted back to neutral as they turned to examine the surrounding area. As they turned their backs on her, right when she wanted them most. A tear finally dripped down her cheek.

Warnings: injuries, blood, poison, references to past sa, death, angst

Word Count: ~5.2k

A/N: sorry this took so long!

She paced back and forth in her bedroom, wearing a track in the wood. Overreacting. 

How does she fix this?

Wait. She paused. This isn’t her job to fix it. If they’re going to act like misogynistic, overbearing males and blame her for her sexual assault, she’s not going to give them the time of day. If they’re going to blame her for that, they don’t deserve her friendship.. 

Tears filled her eyes, as she turned to gaze at the mirror. Her hair was dull, skin pale, eyes almost … haunted. This wouldn’t do. A few deep breaths later, and she came up with a plan to get her life back. 

You can explain it, a soft feminine voice whispered in her ear. It might have been Azriel who said the words, but she knew Cassian believed them as well. They betrayed her in their own way, and she wouldn’t run to them pleading. 

If they really cared, they’d ask. She replied silently. The voice hummed. 

Her mind came back to Azriel’s threat. Don’t leave Velaris. She could play by his rules for now. Maybe even take a bit of revenge in her own way. 

-

She went out to Rita’s that night, reconnecting with a few of her friends. Lights flashed overhead as they danced, matching each other shot for shot. Thank the mother she has good tolerance. 

That night, she took out a piece of paper and tried to focus her blurred eyes. Play by the rules. 

One male looked at my ass for a secmpd. 

A female tolded me i’m preeeety.

Is that a danermeous situatomn? According two you it isss. 

She frowned down at the sheet. The words were barely legible, but he’d understand them. Play by the rules. A laugh left her as she folded the paper into fours, filled with messy creases. 

She stumbled out of her room, kicking her heels off before she left, still wearing the short and tight dress from earlier in the night. Her feet carried her down the hallway, the world swaying as she walked. 

She heard him, and slid the paper under the door, making her way back to her room as quickly as possible. 

-

Azriel opened the door, spotting a drunk y/n trailing down the hallway, holding onto the wall. He knew she’d gone out, but how much had she drunk? He crouched and picked up the messily folded paper. Her scent combined with alcohol flooded through him. This couldn’t be good. 

He closed his eyes after he read over the words. This is how she’s going to play. He should’ve known. A male looking at her ass. A female telling her she’s pretty. No threats, the bargain mark didn’t prick at him, but she was doing this to make a point. 

“Fucking brat.” He cursed under his breath. 

“Who?” Cassian asked from across the room, crossing to meet him at the door. He wordlessly passed the paper. 

Something between frustration and amusement crossed the other male’s face. “We should frame this.” 

“We’re not exactly on speaking terms with her.” They’d ignored each other for weeks now, and he knew Cassian was aching to speak to her - to clear the air and get back to their tentative friendship. But, she didn’t seem to give a damn. Going out of her way to avoid them, even training with Mor. If she wanted to play that game, he’d gladly participate. 

She’s the one who all but broke their bargain. He doesn’t owe her any apologies. 

Why didn’t you leave? His own words echoed, the broken look in her eyes took over his mind. She knows him well enough to know he didn’t mean that. He wouldn’t need to actually explain that, right? It could open up conversations none of them are ready for. 

Weeks passed, a few more notes - none of which got any kind of reaction from his bargain tattoo. The male had only sent one letter - in response to a strongly worded one sent by Rhysand. A half-assed apology he didn’t let her see. It wasn’t genuine, and maybe she was better off leaving this in the past. Part of him questioned if he should be making those decisions for her, but he was busy enough with work he could push that down. 

-

Two months had passed since the … incident, and she made her way down the hall. It was a day off for her, and she’d spend it out in the city, going through the various markets. Some fresh air would do her good - sun on her skin, and time away from the confines of the library. Her hair had some of its shine returned, her skin not quite as pale as before, and a bit of new life breathed into her eyes. She felt more like herself than she had in months. 

Of course, she still missed the two Illyrians. But - they made zero effort to approach her, and she returned in kind. 

She paused outside of the doorway to her cousin’s office. Three heartbeats. A new shield she’d experimented with hid her sound and presence completely, and their voices escaped into the hallway, clear as day. 

“Why are you avoiding her?” Rhys asked. She should leave, right now. Eavesdropping couldn’t lead to anything good. 

“Avoiding who?” Cassian hedged. 

An exasperated sigh came from Rhys. “Y/n.” 

“We don’t owe her anything. She’s nothing to us.”

Rhys snarled, she felt his power even from here. 

“Azriel,” Cassian said in a warning tone. 

Nothing. She left now. The damage was done. At least she knows exactly where she stands with them. 

In her distraction, the shield dropped and her heavy footsteps echoed as she broke into a run. 

-

Cassian whirled as he heard the footsteps. How had he not detected her approach earlier? Rhys’s power was still rumbling through the room. 

“I didn’t mean that.” Azriel said quietly. But, she was too far gone to hear that. 

“We need to find her.” Cassian fought to ignore the pure dominance rumbling from Rhys - the overwhelming power threatening to bring him to his knees. It abated, slowly. 

“I don’t think she’ll want to see us.” Azriel countered. 

“Tell me what the fuck happened between you.” Rhys all but ordered. 

They exchanged a glance. “You know about the letters.” Rhys nodded. They’d only shown him what she’d hidden and he could put the rest of the pieces together. 

“We … said things we regret.” At least he does, he can’t speak for Azriel. He’d seen her in the kitchen that day, and turned his back on her. There was more that happened Azriel hadn’t told him about. As much as he pushed, he was a stone wall - revealing nothing. 

“Why haven’t you fixed it?” Rhys carefully watched both of them. His brother’s eyes were almost black, and he saw the tentative leash on his power, threatening to break free and destroy anything posing a threat to his family - even if it’s them. 

“She hasn’t made an effort either.” The words came from Cassian. Suddenly, he felt … childish. Holding onto a grudge like this, foregoing friendship and something else that had built. He should’ve been the better person, to go to her and try and get both sides of the story - to let go of a stupid grudge costing him so much. Azriel was still quiet next to him. Rhys didn’t say a word, only studying the two of them. 

“Fix it.” It wasn’t quite an order. “Before it’s past the point of return.” 

Were they already there?

Alarm crossed Rhys’s face, eyes glazing slightly. His hand reached for the knife at his hip. He knew that expression - danger. 

“She left Velaris.” Rhys stood, shoving his chair back. “Find her.” That was an order. 

It had been months since the last threatening letter arrived - but immortals could be patient. A trap could be laying in wait for her, anywhere. Azriel was still trying to sniff out how they had eyes on her movements outside of Velaris.

“Any idea where?” Cassian asked. 

“I’m locked out.” 

He cursed under his breath. 

“I have an idea.” Azriel sighed, as if the situation was a mere annoyance - a fly fluttering around his head. Cassian fought the urge to snarl. 

“Be quick.” The worry in Rhys’s tone set him on edge. Azriel tensed as well, but grabbed on to his arm and winnowed them, traveling through the world through his shadows. 

The sleeping mountains. She’d told them they’d been used for healing in the past, and explored them before as part of her research, he and Azriel in tow occasionally. A pit settled in his stomach. A sense, tugged against his consciousness. One he’d never heard before, a soft and feminine voice pleading; find her. 

-

Clear mountain air filled her lungs as she winnowed to the first place she’d pictured. 

A sparkling, turquoise lake lay before her - dipped beneath two peaks. A lake for healing. One of the few places she could find complete peace. Where her thoughts seemed to float away, worries became insignificant, silence became healing. She settled herself on the edge of the lake, watching the water ripple across, tossing stones once in a while. The dew from the moss soaked into her dress, coating her legs as she kicked them out, resting back on her elbows. The midday sun was a warm glow on her skin, pleasantly heating her body. 

She tilted her chin up towards the sky, breathing in the fresh, clean, nearly untouched air. She let her mind drift, let the sounds of nature around her float in, acknowledged any thoughts - and let them go. 

The temporary peace was bliss, weights lifted off her shoulders - she felt her body calm for the first time in weeks, maybe months. Almost like a drug, she was high on the absence of how her mind went quiet for once. No memories beating against her mind, rattling and tightening her throat. 

Like everything, it was temporary as she heard the beat of wings. Loud in the way he was announcing her presence. The familiar scent hit her a second later, and her jaw clenched. Rhys had set up some way of notifying as she left the city. Boundaries, she needed to set some fucking boundaries.

-

He spotted her, propped up on her forearms - legs stretched out in front of her, the sheath of one knife. One. outlined under her dress. The midday sun set an ethereal glow around her, as if the light itself was drawn to her. Beautiful. She was beautiful, magnetic, and he hated how it drew him in. That wasn’t quite enough to abate his anger as he landed a few feet behind her, the slope set him a few feet above - towering over her prone form. 

“I didn’t know you were this stupid.” Cassian seethed. Any earlier thoughts of mending bridges disappeared. Her fists clenched as she stood, slowly turning to face him, but she didn’t meet his gaze - her eyes moved behind and a ring of white shown around them. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. In the split second, before he could react, a familiar wave of magic, her magic, shoved him to the ground. 

He was rolling, back on his feet - moving. He spotted Azriel landed ahead of him, no doubt his shadows whispering to him. It passed in minutes. Flashes. And it was over. They needed to leave now, the carnage and prisoners tied in front of them could be dealt with later. The archer, now dead, had come from the trees nearly one hundred paces away. 

It took a few seconds for him to realize her magic hadn’t joined the fray. 

-

A pained cry came from behind him and he swirled to see her, the tail of an arrow sticking out of her thigh as she fell to her knees. An arrow meant for his head. A string in his chest tightened, tugged, and his face went slack. 

Look, a voice had whispered. Beyond. Not at Cassian, she knew that. Her eyes scanned the horizon, magic starting to curl under her skin, reacting to a danger she couldn’t see. Treeline - the leaves shifted in the opposite direction of the wind, a small zing - her magic acted on its own, shoving him to the ground as a blur shot through the air. There was no question about it, no chance she could let that happen to him. Not only because he came after her, but she physically couldn’t let harm come to him. 

The ash arrow that would’ve gone through his head, lodged in her thigh. Magic left her at once, an empty stillness left behind. Azriel had landed as well, him and Cassian moving into action faster than she could think. Don’t look don’t look don’t look she chanted to herself, and palmed the knife sheathed on her thigh, a pained noise left her - it had gone right through the fabric and as she moved it she could feel it. Not lodged, directly through her leg. 

A pained and pathetic noise left her as she fell to her knees. The wood was slick, not like blood - something thicker. Hands shaking, she reached her opposite arm across to try and grab the knife - cut the arrow and get whatever the hell it was out. Wrong wrong wrong, her body seemed to scream. 

A hand gripped her wrist, Cassian’s face pale and raw. “Out,” she screamed, “I need it out.” 

“Hang on a second,” he murmured, examining it. Her body was barely holding her up, but if she fell backwards it would only push it further into her - push whatever was coating it around into her bloodstream.  Azriel was there as well, shadows swirled around her wound, examining. Two shields had surrounded her, tinted blue and red. 

Magic ripped shredded through them like paper. She knew exactly who that was, it sung to her like a familiar sound - echoing the magic she normally could reach. 

Her sister shoved Cassian out of the way, falling to her knees in front of her.

She bit the inside of her cheek harshly enough she tasted blood. 

Azriel’s hazel eyes met hers as he stood behind her sister. Something like grief, pain, and a hint of anger flooded through them. The normal cold mask had disappeared, replaced by raw emotion she’d rarely seen from him. He staggered a step back - his eyes going wide, pupils blowing. His expression mirrored Cassian’s from before. Then they looked at each other, some sort of silent communication passing before their expressions shifted back to neutral as they turned to examine the surrounding area. As they turned their backs on her, right when she wanted them most. 

A tear finally dripped down her cheek. . 

They turned their backs, again. That pain was more than the physical. That pain struck deep into her soul. He’d meant his words. If a friend was so easily discarded, were they friends in the first place? She was nothing to them, just as he’d said. At least she knows exactly where she stands with them now. The air is cleared. 

Mor’s frown followed her gaze - right at the two Illyrians, undoubtedly seeing the tears filling her eyes. She turned to her sister and saw the questioning look on the blonde’s face. She shook her head. Not here, not now, not ever. The last few months proved she didn’t need them. Want is different than need, and want she can overcome. As soon as she was well, she’d drag her sister back in the training ring. Luck or fate had him there in the nick of time, but she couldn’t rely on that. 

Mor had cut through part of the arrow with her magic - her hand now reaching to slide the arrow out, instinct guided her and she snatched Mor’s wrist. 

“Don’t touch it,” she snarled. 

“It needs to come out,” She replied, expression cautious. Gods, she wants it out … but a sense, something tickling at the back of her neck, tells her it’s a bad idea. 

“Pois-” she tried to force air into her lungs, tried to override the panic, but her sister's eyes had widened in understanding. Had the arrow been intended for her? Or designed to down whoever was in her path? 

“Just nod or shake your head,” Mor said softly. “Can you feel your magic?” 

A shake of her head. Mor’s mouth tightened and a small shield surrounded the wound - even as her sister’s magic seemed to recoil against it.

-

Cassian had to turn away from her, had to dig up every semblance of self control he could muster. The bond snapped for him and Azriel at the same moment - but he could see it in her eyes, it hadn’t for her. If he didn’t turn away right then, he would’ve done something abnormally stupid. Maybe Mor knew, because a shield had thrown up around the two of them, blocking out all sound and access. It’s likely Rhys was the only person who could break that down, or tear it away. Sometimes he forgot just how much power Mor has, of what the female was capable of. 

Rhys winnowed in, with a few quiet words he’d explained what he saw. Azriel stood next to them, one eye on the males still unconscious and bound a few paces away. They turned back in time to feel Mor’s shield drop. She met their eyes - and he could read the panic as clear as day. Her brown eyes glazed for a moment, before she winnowed out. 

“What?” He demanded. Rhys paused. Azriel had gone stiff next to him. 

“Some kind of poison.” He said under his breath and winnowed. Take care of this. House of Wind he spoke into their minds. Another clear order. 

-

She awoke to her sister pacing at the foot of the bed, burning a hole in her carpet. Y/n was laid on her side, arrow still poking from her thigh. 

“Don’t touch it.” Mor said, spotting her hand reaching for it. She withdrew it quickly, tucking her hand up into her chest. 

Normally, her sister's anxiety would increase her panic, but this time she calmed, like she needed to be the strong one now. Rhys came back with Madja, and she forced herself, promised herself she would keep her mind steady and centered. The lack of magic felt like a missing limb. 

The healer hovered over her, magic running different diagnostics as she asked questions she could barely answer. Mor explained what she could, still moving back and forth. 

“Good call.” Madja said to y/n, “keeping it in place.” She smiled weakly at the praise. 

“Getting the poison,” Rhys flinched at the word. Madja hadn’t explained exactly what it was yet, and probably for good reason, “is going to hurt.” Like hell. Her eyes had a silent question, do you want them here? She gave a slight shake of her head. 

Madja turned to them. “Both of you out. Keep a shield around here. Do not enter until I say so.” Their faces tightened, but they didn’t dare question her, only shooting a nervous glance to y/n. She nodded at them, looking more confident than she felt. 

“I can’t use any pain relief,” Madja talked her through it. She had spent hours watching the healer before. “I don’t know how it will interact.” 

“Do you know what it is?” her voice was hoarse and each word hurt like hell. Madja’s silence was an answer enough. She handed her a piece of leather. Y/n steeled herself, and dug her teeth into it. 

Her voice was hoarse from screaming by the end - like whatever it was was fighting to stay inside and she felt each droplet leaving, but the healer said she could only get what was clinging to the arrow, what was still clenched to her muscle. Anything in the bloodstream would have to come out the natural way. She’d moved quickly to get it inside a vial - out of the air and before it could make contact with anything. Because of that, it had to go slowly, in all it took around an hour. 

“Now the easy part,” she gave her a reassuring smile and yanked the arrow out before she could protest. Her teeth clenched, but soothing magic ran through the wound, stitching it back together. After what felt like an eternity, she helped her move to sit. Rhys must’ve asked her mind-to-mind, because the door swung back open the second she was situated.

Then - more diagnostics, more notes scribbled in between. Madja’s face was too neutral. 

“What was it?” Mor asked. 

“Bloodbane.” The two winced, although she knew they suspected it. She did, for certain, given she couldn’t feel her magic still. 

“How long?” Y/n asked. 

Madja clicked her tongue. “One week at least. It was a heavy dose,” she shot her a tight glance. “Once it wears off, you’ll need to be cautious. Your magic will come back in a flood.” 

“We’ll take necessary precautions.” Rhys assured her. 

She winced as pain echoed up her thigh, radiating through her body, and waited for the other shoe to drop.  Madja clocked her movement, and slowly added, “there was a small trace of modified hemlock.” 

Silence filled the room, and she could’ve sworn the temperature dropped. Modified? Madja, if she was unnerved, didn’t show it. Hemlock could kill in the right amount. “With the dose and the alterations, you can expect to feel sharp pains, perhaps just in your leg or body. Luckily it wasn’t a full dose.” Luckily. She supposed Madja was right - compared to the normal symptoms of that particular poison, she’d be grateful if that’s all she experienced.  

“What can you give her, for it?” Mor asked. 

From the brief studying she’d done on healing, and the books she’d read - y/n already knew the answer. “Nothing.” 

Madja sent her an approving nod. “We won’t risk any interactions. Nothing for the pain, no drugs, no alcohol.” Maybe this was the Mother’s way of scolding her - of calling her a dumbass. 

Madja clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Try to keep activity to a minimum. Drink plenty of water, let it run its course. I’ll come by twice a day for the first week.” 

She grimaced. If Madja’s insisting on coming twice a day. She’d be lucky if any of them let her leave the bed. 

The healer gathered her supplies and began to take her leave, Rhys walking her out. 

-

Azriel had escorted the leftover soldiers to Hewn City as he flew back to Velaris. Flying faster than he ever had, he realized - like the winds were adapting around him, encouraging him to move faster - faster. 

He landed on the balcony, Az a second behind him. “She didn’t …” his words trailed off, seeking confirmation. He shook his head. Maybe it was the ash arrow, blocking her magic and keeping her from realizing. 

“No.” He responded quietly. “She didn’t.” 

“Do we tell her?” Gods he’d thought about finding his mate before, thought about it a lot over the decades - they all had. He supposed it was some primal instinct in him, always searching for that connection. As soon as she’d taken the arrow for him, her magic working instinctively, he confirmed his suspicion. But, suspecting and feeling it snap were two very different things. 

“Not now.” 

Madja and Rhys’s conversation drifted through the open doors. 

“Keep a close eye on her,” she was telling Rhys, intending for the two of them to overhear. He noticed Azriel’s shadows swirling around him. “The Fae Bane,” he shuddered, “is significant. One week is the minimum.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“I don’t know exactly how they modified the hemlock.” His fists clenched, some of that deadly rage returning. “But the intention is pain without permanent physical damage. Expect sharp pains, depression, nightmares, and possibly hallucinations.” 

“We won’t leave her alone.” Rhys promised her. 

She gave a nod. “No alcohol, drugs of any kind, tonics, or pain relief of any kind. Even if she begs for it.” 

Begs? Would she be in that much misery? His chest tightened. As mad as he might still be at her, the thought of her in agony is worse. 

“Understood.” He replied, as if he’d heard this before. Maybe Madja was sharing it for their knowledge too. 

“I’ll keep looking into it. I’ll be back in the morning” Her careful eyes fixed on them, nostrils flaring. “I need a word with these two.” She fixed a look at Rhys, who gave a quick bow and strode back inside, not bothering to look at them. 

“I’ll keep your secret,” Madja murmured quietly as they approached her. She’d scented the bond - on them? Or y/n as well? Nothing flew past her. “I’ll trust you two to take care of her. She won’t be herself.” Her words felt like a warning and a plea. 

“We will.” Azriel answered, in that cool and voice of his. Cassian was nearly trembling with built up anger and those protective instincts - ready to tear apart the entire house, kill any threat - perceived or real. “Tell me everything, please.” Azriel said mildly.

Madja, of course, picked up on it too - and gave them all of the details she could; in layman’s terms. Depression, nightmares, pain. He picked up on those three - the ones she put the most emphasis on. And instructed them to hide anything that might slow down the healing process. Although, he got the distinct sense the house might do some of that work for them. 

She left them with one final word of caution; “I cannot guarantee how much she will remember - if anything.” 

Rhys, as if sensing the end of the conversation, strode back through the doors. “I’ll take you back,” he said to the healer. 

-

Minutes later, Rhys returned looking drained. “I’m sure Madja explained everything to you.” In more detail than he could know. “I’m not going to force you to babysit her, but your assistance would be appreciated.” 

“She doesn’t need a babysitter.” Cassian countered. Azriel noticed with a hint of amusement that he’d bristled and come to y/n’s defense. 

Rhys only raised his brow, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. Azriel, so far, had refused to process just how close they came to losing her. That’s something he could think about later. “For the next week or so, she does. We can’t leave her alone.” Azriel read through that; he’s terrified of what might happen if they do. 

“I’ll keep eyes on her,” Azriel said with a soft menace. Like hell he’d let anything hurt his … his and Cassian’s mate. Even herself. Even if he still was pissed at her. He kept the neutral mask firmly in place, but part of him felt a bit ashamed at the relief in Rhys’s eyes. He’d harbored some doubt they would help. 

“We’ll work things out.” A rotation, he figured. They all still had jobs to do, duties they had to keep. Rhys or Mor would tell the priestesses she would be off for the next few weeks. Perhaps she could bring some work for her to do here, if she had any moments of lucidity. 

Gods, he had no idea what to expect - and that put him on edge more that he’d let on. Azriel worked on knowing everything, that was his nature. 

“Can anyone else help?” Cassian asked, but he could sense the doubt in his voice. 

“I don’t trust anyone else. Except Amren.” Something pricked the back of Azriel’s neck. He knew Amren wouldn’t harm her, but something about her always made him uneasy. 

Madja hadn’t oversold the side effects. Not at all. When they entered the room, minutes after their conversation with Rhys. Mor was already wiping a wet cloth against y/n’s forehead. 

Pale and wan skin, fists clenched and eyes squeezed as her leg seized. The scar was red and angry. A contrast against the rest of her skin, marring the otherwise untouched flesh. Reflexively, he looked at his own hands. Cassian, putting on a much better show than him, sauntered up to Mor and snatched the cloth from her, nudging the female out of the way. Her eyes dug into his back, but she promised y/n she’d be back later, shooting each of them a warning glance. 

-

They had the gods-damned audacity to show up, acting like everything is perfectly normal. Like they hadn’t torn her soul in half this morning. The day had been too much. So much happening in such a short amount of time, maybe two hours if that. Words, words were too difficult as she clenched her eyes shut - a pain, one she wasn’t sure was phantom or real - ripping through her thigh. 

A gentle hand ran a wet cloth over her forehead, she hadn’t realized she was panting. The bed dipped, and she blinked her eyes open to see Cassian sitting next to her. Worry radiated through his features. Where she could usually feel his or Azriel’s emotions … nothing. Maybe a side effect of her magic disappearing. 

“Talking can wait until you’re feeling better.” He offered. An olive branch. She didn’t want it, so she turned her head away from him. One finger gently pressed against her cheek, dragging her attention back to him - frowning. “If you’d rather talk now, we can.” 

-

She slapped his hand away, gritting her teeth through the pain to cross her arms over her chest. “Why bother?” Her voice was bitter. “I’m nothing to you.” 

Did they both say it in Rhys’s office? She couldn’t remember clearly. Everything was blending together, memories blurring in and out. 

He blinked twice. “That’s not true.” Her eyes slid to Azriel, and he gave a short nod. There was some sort of emotion in his eyes, one she couldn’t read. That pissed her off more. 

“It doesn’t matter.” She muttered. Not now, she told herself. It’s not something she can talk about now. There’s too much to process. What happened earlier … 

“You’re not in your right mind.” Azriel cut in. Her jaw dropped and her eyes rolled. “Why did you go off on your own?” His voice almost sounded pained. Cassian cut him a sharp look, hissing in warning. 

“I’m a free female.” 

“Nearly a dead one. If we hadn’t been there - the arrow still would’ve hit you, and you’d be gone.” Maybe he learned something from the soldiers already. Did he forget she saved Cassian? Well, he wouldn’t have needed saving if she hadn’t left. Her head shook, those thoughts were useless. 

“Not the time Az,” Cassian snarled, standing abruptly and shoving him towards the door. Azriel’s shoulders tightened, and he strode out the door, shutting it softly behind him. Uncomfortable silence filled the room. 

“You should sleep.” He finally said. 

“Then leave.” 

He let out a low edged chuckle. “I wish, but you’re stuck with me princess.” I wish. The words had the effect he wanted and she willed the tears away as she turned on her side, facing away from him. This might be the most miserable week of her life.

taglist: @infinitely-kate @foreverrandomwritings @anuttellaa @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @justasillylittlegoofyguy @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

hi! do you have any dead girl detectives thoughts? (either as genderbent edwin and charles or roleswap with niko and crystal, whichever floats your boat)

Do I! So I love the genderbent Dead Girl Detectives, but I'm partial to role swaps where Crystal and Niko are the teenage ghost detectives and Edwin and Charles are the humans that get adopted into their agency. Here's my version:

Crystal is a student at a boarding school in 1916 who ends up getting possessed by David the Demon. Her school chaplain calls in an exorcist and she ends up dying during the exorcism, getting dragged to Hell by David in the process. The school covers up her death and she's written off as a runaway.

She escapes Hell in 1989, finds herself back at her old boarding school, and stumbles upon Niko in an attic. Niko is dying after being possessed by dandelion sprites. Crystal keeps her company until she dies, expecting Niko to move on to her afterlife. Instead, Niko decides to stay.

Niko is obsessed with detective shows, so she comes up with the idea to start the Dead Girl Detective Agency. They keep the dandelion sprites that killed her in a jar on their desk, despite Crystal's many threats to drown them.

David is a much more active antagonist than Edwin's demon in canon. He pops up throughout the decades, causing trouble for Crystal and Niko and trying to use Crystal to get back to Hell.

Charles is a psychic who comes into their (after)lives about 30 years later. He gets caught up in some kind of supernatural danger, they save him, and he sticks around, declaring himself the brawn.

One of Charles's visions brings them to Port Townsend, where they save Becky Aspen from Esther and meet Edwin, a student at Gray Wake.

After getting caught in the crossfire of Esther trying to retaliate against the Dead Girl Detectives (and Charles), Edwin starts being able to see ghosts. Charles immediately has heart eyes over him, Niko adopts him as her new best friend, and Crystal is not a fan (she's totally not jealous of how close he gets to Niko within days of meeting her. Totally not.)

I don't see the Cat King pulling the same tricks with Crystal or Niko that he tried on Edwin, so I think what would keep them in Port Townsend is knowing that if they leave, Esther is just going to start killing little girls again.

David also follows them to Port Townsend and maybe even teams up with Esther, because I think they would hate each other and it would be fun.

Meanwhile, Crystal starts to realize she's been in love with Niko for over thirty years and oh no time to have a bisexual crisis.

When David succeeds in dragging Crystal back to Hell, Niko goes to find her. (She has to lock Edwin and Charles in a closet to stop them from following her. They may or may not make out while in said closet.)

Crystal confesses her feelings on the staircase out of Hell and Niko tells her she's been in love with her for years.

They get back to Port Townsend and Esther promptly kidnaps Charles and Edwin to feed them to her snake (they're not little girls, but they're young and killing them will hurt Crystal and Niko, so they'll do.) Crystal and Niko go after them and Lilith conveniently pops up to drag Esther off.

When Charles, Crystal, and Niko return to London, Edwin comes with them, because he thinks becoming a supernatural detective (and having Charles within snogging distance) is far more interesting than anything he could learn in school.

(Jenny, Tragic Mick, and the Night Nurse are just as they are in canon. The Cat King is still in the background, being his trickster god self and offering occasional tidbits of advice for dealing with Esther.)

[hiraethwa]

one summer day

10 epiphany. where ushijima has a sudden realization

<< 09 disconnect. | >> 11 epiphany.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: we only go up from here, my loves - ave word count: 3.7k 💀 warnings: violence, threats, vile, misogynistic comments (by a rando), cursing tags: @lemurzsquad @daisy-room @integers -- (inbox me if you want to be added to the tag list)

april, third year

ushijima wakatoshi is by no means a people person. he is a highly motivated individual, mind always focused on the task at hand. he does not mind people interacting with him, although he can survive without it. 

he enjoys playing volleyball and listening to his teammates, occasionally adding to the conversation, but he has never been a particularly talkative person like tendo. it’s not that he dislikes human interaction, he just finds that sometimes, some things are better left unspoken, or perhaps unnecessary altogether. 

he never goes out of his way to befriend someone – he was already busy with volleyball as it is, and to add to it, staying on top of his school’s demanding curriculum. people has commented on his stoicism and general unapproachability behind his back, not that he cares enough about it. so naturally, he did not have a lot of friends to begin with. 

wakatoshi thinks that he is satisfied with his way of life and intends on keeping it simple with just school and volleyball, and none of the drama that he’s heard going around his year all the time. or rather, he intended to. 

and so, he finds himself confused, and irritated as well, when this guy from his year, apparently the captain of the basketball or baseball or whatever, he could care less, tries to start some kind of shit with him. 

ushijima was on his way to lunch with tendo when this idiot came and started badmouthing him and the volleyball team, calling him a useless piece of shit and some other names that he stopped listening to. he wondered what the point of this confrontation is when he doesn’t even know who this person is. 

with a blank stare and a twitching eyebrow, ushijima cuts him off, “i’m sorry, who are you again?” 

it only made him angrier and humiliated, with the crowd that is starting to form around the commotion. “my name is yamasaki takeo.”

“i don’t recall asking for your opinion, yamasaki-san,” ushijima retorts irritably, eliciting a gasp from tendo who is next to him. 

yamasaki gapes at him, as the whispers from the students around them grow audibly. 

that ought to be the end of it, ushijima thinks, as he makes to leave the scene that yamasaki caused. he has better things to worry about, like the fact that you are still not on speaking terms with him, rather than this pointless confrontation that is clearly wasting his time.

“that’s right, because you’re too busy trying to get into miyamura’s pants than focusing on volleyball, aren’t you?” 

tendo reckons that the idiot is relentless in picking a fight with him, and apparently has a death wish. for he had the balls to bring your name up when it is currently occupying the top spot in ushijima’s list of touchy subjects, which is very, very short. in fact, it only has one entry right now.

ushijima clenches his fists. now he is truly irritated, and his short patience is reaching its end. 

yamasaki, noticing that he is finally getting a reaction out of the indifferent volleyball captain, delightedly goes on to drag your name through the mud. 

“is it really that difficult to get your little girlfriend to sleep with you, captain, if you are so high and mighty? or is it just you that she is not interested in?” he mocks ushijima, a shit eating grin on his face now that he has ushijima’s full attention, discovering his weakness. “maybe she’s actually sleeping around with your friends. in fact, i wouldn’t be so surprised if she is, considering how close she is to semi eita as of late.”

if looks could kill, yamasaki would be long dead by now. his only saving grace being the thin fraying thread of patience that ushijima is holding on to. a very, very thin thread. 

“if you know what’s good for you, keep her name out of your filthy mouth.” ushijima grits his teeth. 

ushijima hates that he has you dragged into this spectacle. you’re not his girlfriend, much less his friend at this very moment. he hates that too, that you are so far away from his reach. he dislikes the hole your absence left in his meticulous schedule, and he misses the warmth your presence brings him. 

for your sake, he has been keeping his temper in check. convincing himself that getting into a brawl with yamasaki would only serve to fan the flames of the situation when word spreads around school, and the one who would suffer the most would be you. 

but it appears that yamasaki is asking, practically begging for it, as he continues his goading. “maybe i need to get a taste of her, considering how well she has you wrapped around her finger.”

the thread explodes. 

red. red is all ushijima could see as someone grabs a hold of yamasaki’s collar and throws a fist into his cocky face. he is so full of shit. a killing calm descends on ushijima as he watches the person pull his arm back and send another punch to yamasaki. again. and again. 

he vaguely registers his friend shouting his name and pulling on his arm with a few of other students. semi and ohira, he realizes. puzzled, he looks down to see his hand gripping tightly onto the front of yamasaki’s uniform, and his left hand is covered in blood. 

oh. oh. that was him who punched the asshole.

ushijima releases his hold on yamasaki, breathing heavily as the gravity of the situation settles in. it isn’t some inconsequent drama to circulate around school anymore. 

yamasaki struggles to stand, coughing out blood. his nose sits crookedly on his face, most possibly broken. but he has the nerve to smirk, as much as he could, at ushijima. “not so strong now, are you?”

“says the one with a sorry state for a face,” semi retorts, tense from the whole situation.

he merely wipes at his bloodied face, waving semi off. “i am not the one you need to worry about. i am also not the one who is risking his spot on the under 19 team for the youth world championship with a scandal.”

ushijima recoils, blood running cold. was that his goal all along? 

“maybe, i will forgive your actions, if you get on your knees and beg,” yamasaki pauses, a dark glint in his eyes, “and give y/n to me.”

his words have ushijima struggling to break free from his teammates, caution thrown to the winds, ready to beat him to a pulp. 

“let go of me!” ushijima growls. fuck the consequences, there is no way in hell he will let this asshole lay a finger on you.

he does not notice the crowd parting as the students recognize you and allow you space to get to the front of the commotion. the frown on your face from witnessing the latter half of the events unfolding after you yielded to chika’s curiosity of the commotion that sent students running in the hallways and getting their friends to join them. the sigh that escapes your lips from being the center of the drama. 

“is that all it really takes?” your voice stops him in his attempts to break free, his head snapping towards you in shock.

ushijima has not felt fear in years, certainly not on the volleyball court, not since his parents had a messy divorce, but your words send his heart dropping to the floor. “y/n–”

“stay out of it.” you breathe sharply at him, needing your wits about you if you were to get him out of this situation unscathed. turned away from yamasaki, you let out a trembling breath and steel your nerves. 

you’ve worn a mask in your own home for years, this is nothing, you remind yourself. sure, the whispers would spread, but for him, you would wreck yourself. to hell with this asshole if he dares to try to bring ushijima down. ironic, considering you distanced yourself to save your own heart. when it is all said and done, it still belongs to him.  

“unfortunately, i am not an object that ushijima can simply give away, yamasaki-san, but am i worth the lengths you went to?” 

you observe as his eyes dart behind you at ushijima. so that’s how it is. you are not what he wants. what he wants is to get to ushijima, for reasons you can surmise from the gossip that had been floating around the last week. 

if you play your cards right, you could twist his arm behind his back, figuratively speaking. he would have no choice but to back down, you hope. if not… you don’t want to even think about it. this has to be enough.

“why don’t i propose you a better trade?” you bat your lashes at the scum in front of you, playing the role of the ever helpless girl using her body to get away with things. praying to the gods above that he will take the bait. just come a little closer and i will show you my teeth, bastard.

surely, you can’t be thinking of actually going out with yamasaki, ushijima tries to convince himself as he watches you smile at the asshole coyly. you are smarter than that, and he is not worth your sacrifice. 

or is he? he averts his eyes as you lean in towards yamasaki. shoves the prickling sense of unfamiliar discomfort down. shushes the pealing bells in his mind. the urge to pummel his face to nothing. 

he tries to put his mind elsewhere, but a sense of inevitability creeps in. dread, he realizes, crawls up his spine and makes its home there.

he wants to shout at you. something. anything. anything but this. he doesn’t need to be in the youth 19 team. he would rather risk it all. he doesn’t need anything, doesn’t want anything but you by his side. and the thought of it terrifies him.

“wakatoshi-kun,” tendo nudges him and grabs his attention away from his thoughts. he follows tendo’s gaze towards you and takashima, whose cocky smirk was completely wiped off his bloodied and bruised face and replaced by a paleness that looked like fear. “that’s your girl.”

“i’m so glad we were able to come to an understanding, takashima-san. i would hate for such a nasty argument to get even more out of hand, don’t you agree? now that we are on the same page, i’m sure this won’t happen again. right, takashima-san?” ushijima shudders at the underlying hostility in your fake cheery voice that is directed towards takashima. he never wants to be on the receiving end of it, he thinks. 

you lay a hand on his arm, an eerily innocent smile on your face. and takashima winces, nodding quickly and too eagerly compared to his earlier behavior. 

“i guess we will see you around?” ushijima catches on to the hidden demand under your nice words. you better stay away from us. “oh, do you need a hand to the nurse’s office?”

what exactly did he miss? but he is too awestruck by the way you turned the situation around that he forgot to correct tendo’s earlier statement. 

he tunes out takashima’s stuttering response as you turn around, a frown finding its way onto your beautiful features as your cold eyes land on him. barely registers tendo calling “show’s over” and gesturing at the crowd to disperse and mind their own business.

he hates the mask you are wearing, pushing everyone, and him, away as a defense mechanism. he hates that he is the reason you had to don it today to protect him from his own actions.   

ushijima finds himself reaching out to you to smooth out the furrow in your brows, only to be met by resistance. your slender fingers hook onto his wrist, halting his movement for a split second before dropping his hand like a hot potato. 

“people are watching,” you remind him. your eyes catch on his left hand, where the skin on his knuckles was split, hesitating on your next words. “you should get that treated.”

he frowns, already missing the feeling of your skin on his. why would he care that people are watching?

the four of them end up walking to the nurse’s office with ohira dismissing himself from the group for some errand he had to run for his class. tendo being tendo, starts pestering you about what you did and how you did it despite your clipped answers. 

ushijima finds himself staring at the back of your head, unsure if you are just a figment of his imagination from how long he went without interacting with you. next to him, semi nods his head at you, “she doesn’t hate you, you know.”

he stays quiet. if that’s true, then why are you so intent on avoiding him?

“you are both impossible,” semi huffs in disbelief. 

finding the nurse’s office empty, semi lets your little group into the dark room. tendo beelines for the cabinet, rummaging for supplies. you didn’t have the energy to tell them that they should probably wait for the nurse to come back.

you keep to the door, fidgeting as if you could not decide to stay or go. “see you guys” you blurt, feet moving quickly out the door.

“y/n–” ushijima panics. is this it? is this all he has left of you?

“i’ll go talk to her.” semi promises, running after you, leaving ushijima in tendo’s hands.

they sit in silence as tendo cleans up ushjima’s bloodied knuckles, the latter unphased by the sting of disinfectant on raw skin with his entire focus on the doorway. wishing. 

sure enough, semi returns with an uneasy y/n in tow, looking like you would rather be anywhere but there. 

he makes you sit on the bed across from ushijima, an indecipherable look in his eyes. “stay, you two need to talk. tendo and i will be right outside.” translation: don’t think about leaving until you talk to him. to which you return an unamused look, crossing your arms in a defensive manner.

you wait until the door clicks closed behind them before stealing a glance at ushijima. his stare displaces you, as if there is nothing more important than you. unbelievable, you think. 

you open your mouth to say something – something mean and hurtful so that he would stop looking at you like he cared, but decide against it, knowing full well your anger, the serpent that rarely rears its head is nasty when it does. 

“why are you avoiding me?” he breaks the silence. the first words you’ve heard from him in a long while, not counting the short exchange earlier and during orchestra practice. you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his voice. that it didn’t calm the wary hissing wild animal in you on some subconscious level.

“why do you care, ushijima?” the name still leaves a bitter taste on your tongue even though you have tried to get over it. you don’t actually love him, right? it’s just a schoolgirl infatuation. or at least, that is what you keep telling yourself, hoping that it will be true when you repeat it enough times. 

“you are my friend, y/n.” his eyes snap to yours, begging you to understand. 

the feeling of drowning creeps in, bringing you back to the first sleepless nights after you cut him off. how pathetic you were running after someone who did not even treat you as their friend. how worthless. how you went from wishing that he saw you as you are to wishing that he never walked into your life.

“no, if i am your friend, then why didn’t you tell me about the nationals? fuck, i had to find out from semi, and it was only because they needed me to stop you from hurting yourself. what the fuck am i to you, ushijima wakatoshi?” you snap at him. 

he starts to say something, but you are not done, not yet. 

“why bother? why save me from myself, tell me you’re my friend, when you certainly don’t act like it when it comes to yourself? do you think so little of me? or am i just some basket case to you?” your fists curl at your sides, angry tears threatening to escape your eyes, as you will them back. 

why did you start the fight? why? 

and then he is at your feet, kneeling and taking your hands into his, looking at you as if you are his salvation. “it was easy, caring for you. felt right, like second nature. you matter to me, but i–” he glances away for a second, almost too much, he thinks “–i don’t know how to let others do the same to me, even if it’s you, that didn’t come naturally. i’m sorry, y/n.” his knuckles are gentle against your skin, brushing away the tears that you didn’t realize started sliding down your cheeks.

the silence stretches, interrupted by your sniffles here and there. 

“talk to me.” he tucks the hair that is covering your face behind your ear. 

your voice is a pained quiet. “i was running away from you, afraid of what your answer could be. i was scared that you found me unworthy. i felt pathetic, yearning for your friendship if you didn’t feel the same way. but–” your throat tightens at your cowardice, realizing your own mistake.

“it could have been avoided if you just talked to me.” wakatoshi finishes your sentence for you.

“you’re a fucking hypocrite.” you retort, kicking his knee in pettiness. “don’t think you’re so easily forgiven.” and just like that he is forgiven. your heart once again safely tucked away in his hands, returned to its owner after weeks of being torn away bleeding and broken by yours. 

it’s unfair, really. the effortlessness it takes on his part to make you whole unknowingly. maybe you were born without a heart, given away to ushijima by fate. maybe he is meant to come into your life and give it back, to remind you that you are alive, and to live. 

you keep telling yourself that he is meant for more than you. which is the truth. but it is also because you are afraid of losing him forever.  

but he recognizes the way you deflect away from your own vulnerability. “make me beg for it, i’ll do anything to redeem myself.” you mean too much to me.

“anything?” you tap your chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “how about going to the tanabata festival in your kuromontsuki haori hakama?” 

you are trying to see how far he would go to satisfy your demands. usually people wear yukatas to summer festivals, the most casual traditional option, and the most comfortable one in the sweltering heat of summer. a kuromontsuki haori hakama is the highest rank of kimono for men and only worn for formal occasions like weddings and funerals. 

but you would kill to see him in one, and it doesn’t hurt to ask.

“that would be a little difficult… how about a haori hakama?” which is less formal than what you suggested, though enough that he will still stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd, but– “fine.” you wanted to see him in a full formal kimono. 

“i get the crispy ends of your katsu.” nod. “give me a piggyback ride home.” an eyebrow raise, but nod. “i want the only bottle of grape squash that you guys buy every single time.” nod. 

“no more keeping secrets from me.” 

“done.”

“i will have to think of more later, you’re currently on probation.” you narrow your eyes at him, gesturing with your hand, i’m watching you. he catches it deftly, getting all up in your space. 

your breath hitches as he comes eye to eye with you, only inches to spare. “i’m sorry. i’ll do better, i promise.” 

you hear his words, sure, but the thunderous beating of your heart is coming from every direction, deafening. in that moment, you forgot how to speak, tongue twisted in a way that cannot be undone. so you panic, feet kicking out instinctively. 

several things happen in quick succession. wakatoshi grunts, curling backwards in pain. the door bursts open as semi and tendo comes running in to defuse the situation. you sit there in shock. tendo starts cackling at the scene in front of him, tears shining in his eyes. 

“damn, one after another, y/n, you’re putting these boys down real hard.” he wipes his eyes with laughter.

“it was an accident!” 

“sure, sure, if you say so.” he slowly backs out of the room, having a distinctive feeling that you may want to land one on him too. 

“get back here, tendo satori! oi, where do you think you are going? you still need to dress toshi’s wounds.” you dash at him. 

“back to toshi now, are we? why don’t you do it yourself?” he snickers, running away.

semi shakes his head at the two of you, glancing at his captain who is still recovering from your kick in the nuts. he winces at the thought of it. “you good?”

ushijima looks towards where tendo now has an arm thrown over your shoulders, affectionately ruffling your hair, utterly unfazed by the way you are snapping at him. 

“i told you, i am not telling you! it defeats the purpose of what i said to that scum if i told you! get your dirty hands off of me.” you frown at the redhead, and then as if sensing his eyes on you, you point at ushijima. “you, don’t ever pick fights again even if i get dragged into it, it’s not worth it.” 

“but he picked a fight with ushijima-kun first.” 

“why, you brat. do you want to find out what dirty secrets i know about you?”

“wah, scary, y/n-chan. remind me to never get on your bad side.” 

you make a face at tendo, which ushijima finds adorable. his lips quirk in a smile at the scene unfolding in front of them, finally responding to semi’s earlier question. 

“yeah. yeah, i think so.”

“ushijima-kun, you’re down bad.”

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[gardenofnoah]

it was never ending (pt. 1)

wc: 5.3k (pt. 1 only) tags (whole series): bakugou x reader, oc character death (not reader), grief, healing, found family, getting together, slow (medium?) burn, child rearing, descriptions of pregnancy, morning sickness, friends to lovers, confessions, eventual smut

notes: i've had the idea for this in my drafts for the last 82 years. i blacked out and wrote this whole thing in like 12 hours. fingers crossed for the same motivation demon to visit me in my sleep for part 2.

summary: when the father of your child passes away suddenly, you get by with a little help from your friends (and a really intense Bakugou).

There was a part of you that already knew, as soon as the phone rang. At 7pm, there was no reason to assume it wasn't benign, like your mother calling to confirm what you'd already told her you'd bring to brunch the following weekend.

It wasn't, though. You knew it wouldn't be.

The drive is something that happens to someone else. You see it in flashes. Distantly, you think that it's probably not safe, driving in this state with an infant in the backseat. But you don't really have another option—or at least not one that occurs to you.

A nurse—a young woman, who can't be any older than early twenties—meets you in the lobby. She's practiced in her stoicism. There is no forced smile, no apologies—just a quiet invitation to follow her. She leads you with a hand on your elbow, like she's expecting you, too, to collapse, down a series of hallways that you don't bother to notice. You wonder how long she's been doing this, and what the impact of it might be on someone so young.

A doctor is waiting for you in the room. He immediately launches into a lengthy, medical term-laden explanation of the two hours prior to your arrival. You hear none of it, and you're not even looking at him.

Behind him, a thin sheet covers the body of the father of the child in your arms.

-

You turn your phone off.

You have to, really. The barrage of well-intentioned but poorly timed (and often poorly worded) texts and calls and emails renders the thing unusable.

The number of days that've passed between today and the hospital are of little consequence to you. You've survived on autopilot for however many have passed but the bone-deep exhaustion you feel has spread deeper still. Through the wall, Kaede cries, but there's nothing left in you to get your body to move. Kaede, named so at her father's request.

She was an angry thing, born with no small amount of indignancy at the act of bringing her earthside, against her will. She was red and raging for the first several months of her life, and while it exhausted you, Takeshi had taken it in stride.

"My darling girl," you'd hear him through the monitor, cooing to your daughter as she pitched a fit for the umpteenth time that night, "it won't always be so bad."

How would you convince her of the truth in that now?

The sound of knuckles against your front door jars you out of your half-consciousness. It seems it's only a courtesy, though, because you hear it open immediately after. It dawns on you that you haven't thought to check if it was locked since you've been home. Regrettable, especially now. Some distant alarm ringing in your mind tells you that should be concerned that someone has just entered your home, but there's a wall up right now. In an effort to keep you safe, your brain has blocked out everything.

Through the wall, a voice coos to your daughter. You recognize it as Mina's, and you let out a quiet breath. You brain loosens its grasp for an instant and relief floods you. You'll get up and thank her, when you can.

There is a chorus of voices, telling you that there is more than one person in your house right now, but in the absence of a threat, your eyes flutter closed. The door to your bedroom opens, and you blink hard at the light that seeps in over the massive body in your doorway.

The door closes just as quickly, and in the darkness, the body moves around the room to the other side of the bed—the empty one. There is a weight—your body dips with it minutely, and then settles again. You close your eyes, this time to relieve the sting you feel for the first time since getting home. With another breathing body as its witness, the grief hits you so suddenly you can taste it.

"Katsuki," you whimper, feeling him at your back. Familiar arms reach for you, pull you in.

"Y'r alright," he murmurs, pressing the underside of his jaw into your hair. The pressure on all sides squeezes something loose in you. You suck in a gasping breath, and then it leaves you—broken apart and limp. He holds you while you cry—keeps you there, tethered only to him in this storm.

_

Once the hurt comes, it lingers.

You suppose you can be grateful for that. People do crazy things under the burden of pent up emotion, and you can't afford to come unglued. Not like that, anyway. But while grief pulls you apart in different directions, your friends flit around your peripheral. You'd feel guilty if you could—for not being able to do what you should be able to—but few things get past the mountain of mourning that keeps you pinned to your bed.

They seem to have worked out shifts among themselves. Mina in the morning to get Kaede up and fed, Kirishima and Denki in the evening to get her bathed and ready for bed. Izuku comes around most afternoons with rattle toys and books to keep her engaged, talking and playing to keep her brain developing in your absence. Shielding her from this.

Katsuki doesn't leave.

He sleeps on the couch. Or you assume he does—you've not ventured out of your bed for much of anything. He's in and out of your room during the day, always with little meals or water or reminding you to shower, to get up and walk around the room if you can. It's hard and you cry often, but right now he's not his brash, abrasive self. He's gentler than you've ever seen him, a hand at your back to steady you, his voice low and grounding.

Your relationship with Katsuki is complicated, but not in a bad way. You'd met him, along with the rest of the group, in college. The civilian track at UA landed you a cushy office job—one you promptly turned down due to Katsuki's outrage at you working anywhere that wasn't with him. He'd gotten you a job as a resource coordinator at Jeanist's agency—which was something you found you really enjoyed. Your quirk was less than impressive—similar to Shouto's but not nearly as powerful, you could really only bring tea just shy of a boil. It certainly wouldn't be saving anyone's life, but in this role, you could help. Displaced families needed temporary housing, victims of violence needed access to affordable counseling, the injured needed connected to hearing aids and wheelchairs and prosthetics, ongoing care.

It was hard work, but you felt a certain privilege in being the one to do it. It was an honor to walk along side someone in their most vulnerable moments, and you tried to do it with as much grace and compassion as you could. When Katsuki was big enough to start his own agency, you followed him there. He gave you room to grow, and now, you head a team of community crisis response workers.

You haven't thought about work since the hospital. It's fascinating, how quickly something that matters so deeply to you can leave your mind. Katsuki hasn't mentioned it—in fact, he's not said much of anything, aside from his quiet prompting every few hours. You know that he's only doing what seems so inherent to him, and if you had the energy to, you'd tell him to go home—to take a break. The energy isn't there, though—all you can do is follow his directives to keep yourself alive.

Katsuki has always been protective of you. You're not sure when it started. You'd always been drawn to him, and there was seldom a time when you were somewhere that he wasn't. Your mother took to making up the spare bed for him when you'd come home for weekends and holidays, because it was a guarantee that he'd follow you through the screen door like a shadow. In your third year, she started asking, not so in jest, when the wedding would be.

When you met Takeshi, it was a surprise to everyone. But he was kind, and personable, and the newly-pro heroes adopted him into the fold.

Takeshi knew what Katsuki meant to you, and you were grateful for his patience. While his relationship with you was neatly defined, a specific box in your heart with his name on it—Katsuki was not. He was in everything that you were, and it was something that Takeshi chose not to interfere with. You're certain it was difficult, but he took it in stride.

He really was a kind man.

Within a year of being together, you found out you were pregnant. It was a shock—but what news filled you with terror, Takeshi received with utter delight. You were only a year out of college and in no way financially stable, but his joy left an impression on you. With each day, your child grew, and so did your tentative excitement. Takeshi was through the roof—as were your heroes.

Katsuki was the one to figure it out first. You'd been absent from a few of the group's weekly dinners at the bar in town. When you finally showed up, dressed in a big hoodie that covered most of you, you'd politely declined all offers of beer and stuck to stealing fries off of his plate.

"You pregnant?" he'd asked, not bothering to lower his voice. You blinked up at him, caught of guard.

"I—uh. Yeah."

You could've heard a pin drop, with how silent the table had fallen. You lowered your eyes—uncomfortable, unsure how to proceed—and reached for another fry. Mina broke the silence first.

"Oh my god!" she'd shrieked, already in tears. The rest of your friends followed in suit, cheering and reaching for you across the table in some strange attempt at a hug, at comfort.

You'd looked back up to Katsuki, who'd been strangely quiet. His eyes held a question—something undeniably concerned.

"It's okay," you told him, smiling softly. Squeezing his knee under the table, you couldn't miss how tense the muscle felt under your hand. "Honest."

_

A month crawls by, and you find that you can't sleep in your bed anymore.

After a few, agonizing hours of tossing and turning, and pointedly avoiding the other side of the bed, enough is enough. You stumble in the dark to the living room, trying your hardest to be quiet. It's your sniffling that wakes him up.

"Y'alright?" slurred, endearing. It would make you smile if you weren't crying. You shake your head, though his eyes aren't open to see it.

"Move over," you whisper, already pulling the blanket out from under his hip. Katsuki shifts, rolling to his side and lifting an arm for you to slot yourself underneath.

His heart beat, steady and slow, taps against your temple. You close your eyes and imagine the shape of it—the chambers that expand and contract and keep him alive. The wave of gratitude is immense and sudden and brings another sting to your eyes.

He doesn't go back to sleep—you can tell by his breathing.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, watery and broken. The arm around your waist tightens.

"Enough." His voice is gravely with sleep, but that's not all that's there. There's an edge to it, and you know that he's worried. "Try t'sleep."

_

Takeshi had made it a habit to talk with Kaede before she was born.

Each night, he would shuffle down the bed and speak softly to your growing stomach, filling her in on the events of the day.

"We wanted to go on a picnic today, but you made your mother sick." He'd pat your belly, shaking his head with a tsk. "That wasn't very nice, little girl."

Pregnancy was hard. You'd wished to be like those women that glow—that love being pregnant, that feel all connected to their bodies and the earth and the universe and whatever—but it was awful. Your ankles swelled and your back ached and you were sick all of the time.

Takeshi worked a 9-5 job outside the city, so Katsuki would stop by to check on you. It became something like a routine. You'd spend all morning throwing up, and then Katsuki would stop by and spend most of the afternoon here, feeding you anti-nausea medication and small bites of food (you'd really only wanted toast, which would launch Katsuki into a several minute tirade about how you'd kill yourself and the baby if you didn't eat a god damned vegetable. This was also part of your routine).

Katsuki's quirk was surprisingly helpful. It took some convincing ("You're not going to fry the baby Katsuki, Jesus Christ,"), but you found that if you had a layer between you, his hands could act as a high-powered heating pad. He'd sit behind you on the floor, one hand on your lower back, the other scrolling through his phone. You'd keep your head between your knees to stave of the nausea.

"You nervous?"

It was the first time he'd really asked. You rested your cheek on your knee, looking back to catch the blonde spikes of his hair in your peripheral.

"Honestly? Yeah. Really nervous."

He'd hummed, something noncommittal and gruff. You let the silence stretch on for another moment before breaking it again.

"I'm worried I'm going to poop on the table."

He'd snorted, and you could feel the eye roll from behind you. "That's what y'r worried about?"

"I mean, yeah. And the possibility of irreparably fucking up my child, I guess."

He'd gone quiet again, and you'd let your eyes close. Content for the moment.

"You'll do fine," he'd said, too quiet for him. The heat spread wider, his other hand joining the first at the small of your back. Kneading softly. "Kid's got a good mom."

_

She sits in front of you now, her chunky legs kicking wildly inside the cloth seat of her jumper. You watch her little toes feel out the ridged bottom, curling around the textures. It might be the first time since Takeshi died that you have really spent time with your child.

Kaeda grunts around the teething ring in her mouth, gurgling happily as Mina sits next to her—pink fingers pressing light up buttons on the tray to catch your daughter's eye. It works for a few seconds, but you sniff, and Kaeda's eyes find you.

"Dah!" the teething ring goes flying as she reaches for you, her head not quite catching up to the jerky movements of her body.

You smile at her, and the stretch of it feels foreign. "Hi, my baby."

It's effort, but you stand, reaching to grab under her armpits and hoist her out of her seat. Her fingers tangle in the strands of your hair. She seems bigger—heavier than she was before. It makes your chest ache. She sits on your hip as you spin her slowly, a sort of sashay around the perimeter of the rug.

"My big girl. Have you had fun with Mina?"

Katsuki watches you with lazy interest from his spot on the couch. Mina immediately busies herself with another task—folding blankets, cleaning up toys. You don't waste your breath telling her she doesn't have to. You'd already tried once, and she waved you off like a pesky fly.

"I'm not doing this because I have to, honey," she reminded you, not bothering to look up from pulling clothes out of the washing machine. "I want to."

At seven months, Kaeda has started to crawl. Or, sort of. It's more like an army crawl, with her little legs propelling her, in a way, across the ground. She gets antsy in your arms, and fusses to be put down.

"I hear ya, I hear ya," you murmur softly, bending to guide her to the soft ground. "Go nuts."

She does, squirming her way across the rug—right to Katsuki. She reaches where his arm hangs over the edge of the couch—and gives it a good, solid smack, her little palm splayed open across his skin.

"What th—y'little brat—"

He peers over the couch at her, and she squeals, clearly enamored by the game she's forced him into. She tries it again—winds up, determined, with her arm up by her head—but he snatches it up before it lands. This time it's a screech that leaves her, all of the air pushed out of her lungs to make room for the belly laugh that she dissolves into when he makes a big show of eating her grubby little fingers.

It was never a surprise to you that Katsuki was so good with Kaede. It was unexpected, though, how much he wanted to be around her. You'd asked about it once, after spending several moments watching him carry her around like a football and seemingly enjoying it, and he'd only shrugged.

"She's cooler than you, so."

You'd laughed, only a little indignant, shoving him lightly. He'd hissed at you to be careful, don't you see the fuckin' baby here, which made you laugh harder. It was absurd, this wall of a man toting around a tiny, slobbering infant.

She was just as enamored with him. She would seek him out anytime he was in her line of vision, often fighting her way out of your grasp to get to him. It reminded you of the way cats seem to flock to the one person that doesn't like cats—she'd picked the meanest looking man in the room and latched on.

Like mother, like daughter, you suppose.

_

"Do you have a name picked out?"

It was late—your head hung off the edge of the bed, which seemed to be the only position that didn't send acid reflux straight up your throat, oddly enough. Takeshi sat up at the other end, your feet in his lap while he pressed his thumbs into the soles of them.

"No," you told him honestly, "truthfully, I'm drawing a blank."

He'd hummed, hands moving up to get at your swollen ankles. "What about Kaede?"

"Kaede," you rolled the syllables around in your mouth, testing the shape of it. It felt nice. "How come?"

"I just—want her to be strong." It was thoughtful as it left him, hanging around in the air above your heads. "I want her to be like a maple tree."

"Like a tree," you repeated dryly, making him snort.

"You know! Like, rooted and strong. But able to change and sway in the wind, all that."

"Wow," you breathed, smiling, "you are so corny."

He sputtered, trying to defend himself, "It's not corny—!"

"Alright, alright," you reached down to pat the duvet, trying to placate him from afar, "Kaede. I like it."

_

Katsuki was the first one in the room after Kaede was born.

It was—unconventional—and you were made well aware of that by the open gawking of the nurses, but Takeshi didn't mind. You felt some guilt, fueled by the reaction of those around you, and told him as much.

"I'll have the rest of my life to hold her," he'd said. "I'll go grab him."

How sad it was to remember that moment now.

You'd closed your eyes for only a moment before you were stirred by a familiar hand on the crown of your head. You'd blinked and were startled to find him visibly concerned.

"You look like shit," he'd said, tilting your head to each side, as if to check for injury. It made you smile.

"Yeah, well, you push a watermelon out of the smallest orifice in your body and let me know how you feel."

He'd gagged, which made you laugh, which hurt.

"Oh, don't do that," you exhaled, long and controlled, "Everything hurts."

He'd gone quiet for a moment, watching you shift and settle back into the bed, wires and leads twisting and clanging off the plastic railing.

"Y'r okay?"

It made you smile. "I am. She's so beautiful, Kat. I can almost forgive her for totally wrecking me on the way out."

As if on queue, the child in question let out a grunt from her spot in the little plastic cradle—moving like a grub, swaddled. He looked at you for another long moment before rising to see for himself. He stopped, too far from the crib, and bent at the waist for a better view. You snorted.

"You can get closer, Katsuki. It's fine."

Another step toward her and he'd stopped again, clearly maxed out on his own comfort. The smile pulled at your cheeks so tightly that it ached.

He looked back at you, and then again to her. It was comical, how fascinated he'd seemed by the tiny person in front of him. And then, over his shoulder—

"You shit the bed?"

You groaned, bringing your hand up to cover your face, mindful of the IV. "I think I did."

His laugh was a crackling thing, echoing around the sterile walls of your room, and Kaede didn't stir at all.

_

When you step foot outside, it's immediately apparent how long it'd been since you last did.

It's a sort of sensory overload—the bright light and the birds and the passing cars and the knowledge that someone has been keeping up with your lawn while you rotted away inside.

From the shaky lines that cut into the grass at odd angles, you have a hunch it was Denki.

Mina accompanies you to the mailbox, as requested. Her arm, strong and assuring, looped through yours as she all but drags you down the short drive to the edge of the road.

You open the box, and immediately shut it.

All of it is for Takeshi.

"Oh sh—sugar," Mina hisses, as if you were not an adult with a fully formed (and often colorful) vocabulary. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't think about that."

You shake your head. It's an inevitable thing that you don't have the energy to waste the tears on. "Will you sit with me?"

You end up on the porch swing, the metal springs above your head creaking with each suspended shove of your toe off the porch. It's a nice day, you think, trying hard not to find that particularly egregious.

Inside, you hear the squeal of your daughter, followed by the grumbling of Katsuki. It sounds a bit like a lecture that Kaede seems to think is hilarious. Another laugh—this time Denki.

"I'm really glad you're all here," you say eventually, quiet under the buzz of the world around you. "I know it's hard to put your own lives on hold."

She reaches for you, threading your fingers together and pulling them into her lap. "It's not hard at all. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now. I know the boys feel the same."

You lean your head against her shoulder, the gentle swaying lulling you somewhere else—on a beach, maybe. With the wind in your hair and salt on your lips. Anywhere but the home that your child's dead father haunts.

"Has Bakugou left at all?"

You snort. "I don't think so."

She sighs, shaking her head. You can hear the smile in it. "He's a real mother hen, that one."

You smile, feeling fond. A mother hen, and your protector.

The breeze turns colder, and Mina shivers. You focus your quirk into the hand she holds—the first time you've used it in quite some time.

She sighs. "God, that's nice. Way better than Blasty's in there."

Her chin presses into the crown of your head when she opens her mouth to speak, and then closes it again. Suddenly she's a little tense, like she's trying to build up her nerve.

"You can say it," you offer gently.

"I was just wondering if you'd stay here."

You've thought about it. It's been hard not too, with the way you can barely get yourself to open your bedroom door at this point. You'd spent every night on the couch with Bakugou since that night.

"No." You speak quietly, as if it's a secret between you. It feels strange to say it out loud. You think, if Takeshi is lingering, you don't want him to hear this. "I just—I don't know where to go. We'd planned to raise her here."

Here, in the home that you love. In the home that you can't bear to spend one more night in.

"Did he have..." She trails off, reconsidering. "I mean, did you get a..."

"Yes," you say, already knowing what she's asking. "I was paid out last week. I put all of it away in an account for Kaede." You sigh, sitting up to straighten out the kink that now exists in your neck. "With my job, we're fine. It's more...the principle of the thing. This is her home."

Mina squeezes your hand gently. "She's a baby, honey. She won't remember it. This was your home."

You tilt your head back, willing away the sting of fresh tears and the irritation you feel at having done so well today until this point.

"Yeah," you sniff, closing your eyes, "it was."

_

Time passes in waves. Slowly, creeping, and then all at once.

The longer you're in the house, the more you realize you can't stay. You are certain of it, the first time you're left alone.

Katsuki had stepped out to grab dinner. You'd all but shoved him out the door, assuring him that you'd be fine for the 20 minutes it took to pick the food up.

"Y'need anything, you call." It was the fourth or fifth time he'd said it to you.

"Alright, alright," you tell him, trailing down the front steps behind him. "I will, I promise."

When you shut the door behind you again, there's a feeling of lethality to it—a debilitating silence that you haven't heard in four months.

You don't want to go any further into the house. You do, only to grab Kaede, and then you're right back outside. It starts to rain, and it feels fitting. You sit under the awning behind your daughter as she sticks her toes out into the drizzle, curling them with each drop that falls on her skin. You think about how overwhelming it must be as a baby—how new everything is.

It's less than 15 minutes later when Katsuki pulls into the driveway. He's out of his truck and in front of you in record time, frowning at you like he already knows something's wrong. Kaede reaches for him, and he scoops her up like it's muscle memory. He waits for you to talk. A moment passes.

"I can't be here anymore," you whisper, shaky. He looks at Kaede for a long moment, like she could have something offer on the topic.

"Alright," he says, reaching for the front door with his free hand, "pack a bag."

_

It takes you longer than you thought it would. You'll be back—you have to come back, because you can't take everything right now—but it feels final. The beginning of the true end. There's a framed picture of you and Takeshi at your baby shower on your nightstand. You consider taking it with you—instead, you turn it face down and move on.

By the time you manage to shove a hoodie, some shorts, a few pairs of underwear and your toiletries into a bag, Katsuki has already packed two bags for Kaede and put her in her carrier. You just look at him, wholly dumbfounded.

"You good?"

You look at him for another beat. "Yeah, fine."

_

The drive to Katsuki's isn't long. You follow him in your car, not wanting to leave it in your driveway. Kaede is with Katsuki, something you didn't fight him on.

You spend 10 of the 15 minute drive flipping through radio stations before you finally turn it off. You're left in silence, and you're now well and truly alone for the first time since Takeshi died.

You suck in a breath, trying to dislodge the thing that has lived in your chest everyday since.

"You knew something was wrong," you say, out loud, to no one. "You knew something was wrong, and you didn't tell me."

You picture him next you—mouth opening to respond, to defend himself. You beat him to it.

"It was preventable," your heart breaks again. "There was no reason—"

You'd tried to keep this at bay—the knowledge that Takeshi's death was meaningless. You hadn't heard a word the doctor said, but you'd read the pathologist's report. It was too hard, too much to process with everything else that needed tended to, but your brain seems to take advantage of every quiet moment you get.

"You left her without a father," your breath comes ragged, both hands gripping the steering wheel tightly to make up for the tears that threaten to block out your vision, "you—you left me,"

With impeccable timing, no sooner than you pull into Katsuki's apartment complex and park do you dissolve completely, curling in on yourself in your seat. It's crushing, this grief and this anger together inside a body that surely cannot hold all of it.

You don't see Katsuki when he approaches your driver's side door. You don't see him when he hesitates, one arm holding Kaede and the other outstretched as if you grab hold of you and pull you from your suffering himself. You don't see when he decides against it—when he turns around to leave you to do what you need to do on your own.

_

In a way, you start to feel lighter. Like something has shifted, like the boulder in your chest has fragmented just enough to let a breath through.

You get Kaede up on your own today. You let yourself linger over her, leaning on the side of the pack-n-play to watch her as she sleeps. Her little eyelashes frame her round cheeks, fluttering with whatever dream she's in the middle of.

The upturn of her nose, the slope of her forehead—these are things she gets from Takeshi. The curve of her eyes, the shape of her fingernails—those are yours. She is the most even mix of two people you’ve ever seen, and something about that makes losing Takeshi a little easier. It would’ve been a lot harder if she had simply taken his face. 

She stirs as if she’s felt your thorough examination. “Hey, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching down to pull her up. She lays her head down on your shoulder, sleepy, and something about it brings tears to your eyes so suddenly that you startle yourself. 

This tiny person that relies on you for everything. This little girl that fits so easily in your arms. She is yours, to keep safe and happy and content. She is a promise you made, both to Takeshi and yourself. She is the thing that will keep you going, even when you’re certain you cannot take another step. She is the thing you have to show up for, no matter what. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” your voice is tiny as it is watery, whispered into her hair, to her already sleeping form. You stand there, in the middle of Katsuki’s spare bedroom, rocking your child and letting the tears fall down in fat drops—and it feels like the most normal thing in the world. “I’m so sorry. I’m here.”

It’s only when you turn your head that you see Katsuki lingering in the doorway. You open your mouth to tell him that you’re alright, but you only manage something wounded, something pathetic and broken and painful. He’s in front of you in an instant, unwinding Kaede from your hold and putting her back into the pack-n-play, still sleeping. It’s only another second before he’s dragging you to him, nearly crushing you to his chest. It pulls another wave of tears from you, because it feels good. To be held, and to be held by Katsuki, who would reduce every source of your pain to ash if he could. He holds you like he means to keep you intact—to put you back together the best he can. The only person who has ever held you like this, meant it like this.

Six months, 13 days, and 11 hours after Takeshi dies, something changes.

part 2 soon. thanks for reading, love u. <3

[star-boi0720]

Giant lore dump here, basically they're the seven deadly sins, in my version to become one you commit an act to break a seal that Irene made to contain the devil within and their punishment is to become the new host for said devils. so I'm gonna go person by person and explain how they became a sinner

(the concepts aren't complete, still needs work but I just want to have it written down)

Aaron-Wrath, has a similar backstory to the OG, but I added a thing I remembered from Emerald Secret of the Utltimas backstory (this was solely from my memory and might not be exact) and took Zane out of the equation, basically Aaron had a hobby of hunting and he without knowing killed this holy wolf that Irene created, and as a punishment he was combined with it and in the foggy haze of his transformation he murdered his whole village and his family.

Lucinda-Gluttony, Her hunger for knowledge killed her best friend(/ maybe girlfriend aka Sasha don't 100% know yet) and sealed away her mother to the cursed forest. Hyria used to have like a coven/school for witches she made after Irene left. Lucinda was a prodigy and wanted to just keep learning to the point she was so desperate she stole a book her mother told her never to even touch (which had sin inside and was trusted to hyria by Irene) which made Lucinda's magic go crazy and destroy the school and seal her mom away and kill Sasha.

Travis-Lust, so his mom dies to seal his dad away all that's the same but Travis is just super lonely right, but then a girl comes to visit him and he eventually falls in love with her but she actually is a member of his fathers cult to break him free and Travis is so obsessed with her he doesn't notice, and before he can stop her fully she partially freed him and travis in the struggle to stop her he kills her and breaks his mothers necklace(which had lust inside) but right after he kills her a bunch of villagers burst into the chamber the demon warlock was locked in and it looks like Travis just sacrificed some girl to his father and they try to kill him so Travis hides deep in the mountains

Katelyn-Envy, her entire life in her village of dragons she was treated as lesser compared to her brothers Kayden and Cain cause she wasn't as strong as them and she pushed herself but wasn't enough, her jealousy boiled over and in a fight with her brother Kameron she broke a statue that had the sin inside she didn't kill him but burned him beyond recovery

Garroth- Pride, He was the cocky prince troupe kinda like Hercules from the Disney movie and he liked to play hero, and vylad always went with him like Garroth's little sidekick. but one day they came against a monster they couldn't beat and Garroth refused to back down and in which the monster which was a huge lion killed vylad garroth killed it but it had the sin of pride inside it Garroth returned home and when he told his mother of what happened she hid him away knowing the world would see garroth as a threat and kill him. So Evelyn(Aka Zianna I changed a lot of the parent's names cause it seemed repetitive to me, so mom is now Evelyn and the father's name is now Adam) sent Garroth to hide in Phoenix Drop and claimed the beast killed both of them.

Zane- Greed, Zane was always a good man the whole kind young priest get up. but after the sudden deaths of his brothers, his faith was shaken, and in a desperate attempt to bring them back he began to research black magic and corrupted his mind and he opened a box deep in the catacombs of Okasis which was Pandora's box which held the sin of greed and became and the once kind prince became a true monster.

Nana-Sloth Nana is the eldest daughter of a duke of the Tula Kingdom, her mother died when Nana was young and her father was very heartless about it, like had a new wife in 2 days and all her other siblings were only her half she tried to be close to them but her father kept her away from them to the point she stopped trying after so long but on a night a raid happened she was only able to save one of her siblings her youngest Juno who was only like 7 but as she was escaping she broke a mirror that had the sin of sloth inside and possessed her and nana escaped to ruan and made her little cafe with her sister. (Nanas I don't fully like it yet but it is something ig)

So that's pretty much just some tragic mfrs sorry for any spelling mistakes

[respawned-dove]

hihi!! really excited to see the content u make. can i get headcanons for a yan!scout? pretty please?

1st requests, and it's one of my favourites! You didn't give particular specifications on the reader character, so the reader is neutral on every trait.

yan! Scout x gn! Reader Headcanons

CW/TW: obsessive behaviour, controlling behaviour, stalking, home invasion, inappropriate touching, dubcon, guilt-tripping, death threats, sex mentions, manipulation, forced isolation, physical threat, threatening of family members, death of family members and friends, lovebombing, guns

Both BLU and RED Scout's basic instincts are to run, hit, scare off, or cling very hard, and those traits leak into their ways of showing love and obsession.

Scout is actually quite impressive, outwardly. Even with his more annoying aspects, he's cool and charming, he's good with girls (even if not so with ladies), he has an athletic body and he's very funny. It's not hard for him to draw people into his circle initially. As long as you're there and willing to compliment him and build up his ego then you are exactly who he wants around him for a night. For most people he is flirtatious with, he keeps them around for one night stands and for sleeping with. Someone distant yet all over him is just what he's always wanted. But some people are different... They actually like him, and they actually seem to desire him in an intimate way. This treatment very easily translates into romantic affection, as his idea of what would be a good relationship is very shallow. "If that person genuinely enjoys being around me, then that must mean they want me bad."

The crush forms, and the fear sets in for him. Someone is getting close to him, and therefore might see through the dents in his ego and find out the 'truth' about him. (There is no underlying truth, but Scout believes he, deep down, does not live up to his place in this world, and therefore doesn't live up to even who he is as a person.) And he could never bear to lose the positive attention you give him. For a phase, he becomes very distant from you, not necessarily cold, but he definitely seems to be avoiding you, and there's an air of performance to all of your interactions. Scout considers it a test, quizzing you in a way you're not aware of. If you keep seeking him out when he pulls away, if you chase him and continue to want him around, then he will consider that a confirmation that you want him, just as much as he does you now.

Scout continues to keep a distance, but more like a 'walking twenty feet behind you everywhere you go" sort of distance. It's not stalking, he tells himself, he's just making sure he knows where you are that day, knows if you talked to anyone about him that day, to make sure he knows you have that gift he gave you in your room, and he knows you're getting home safe. Seeking validation that you like him even when he's 'not there' (he will be there). He has a weapon, but that's just in case any creeps tried to follow you home or something!

Speaking of gifts, Scout gives them pretty often. He actually found something to spend his massive income on besides Tom Jones merch, and that something is you. It's not his specific love language, but it is a way to make sure you stay there with him another hour or two, always waiting to get the gifts he pulls out. You start getting gifts in the mail too, marked as from Scout. You don't remember giving him your address... Eh, he probably used the yellow pages for it, is all.

His actual love language is physical touch and words of affirmation.

For one thing, he can't seem to keep his hands off of you, even if it's in subtle ways. Things that could still be considered friendly, like a hug that lasts slightly too long, or grabbing your hand when he's showing you something and 'forgetting' to let go. Slowly, they get less friendly, and it turns into things like holding your shoulders from behind you, getting caught eyeing you up, or 'accidentally' touching your hips and chest. It's easy enough to laugh it off, he's a silly guy who's most likely playing around with you. A lot of his playing around is annoying like that. But the more you let it go, the further he pushes your boundaries. Touching your chest without removing his hand for much longer, grabbing you by your hips to move you around, touching your face for far too long to be comfortable. You still don't feel comfortable calling him out for it, not when he's so friendly and nice to you the majority of the time. And hey, him being nice to you makes you feel special! He can be a dick to others, and right now, you get to laugh at it from the other side rather than be stuck in his ire.

For the other, his need for approval from you knows no bounds, and he puts himself in a lot of risky and stupid situations just to hear you praise or fawn over him and how cool he is. He wants to feel adored, admired, appreciated, valued. And if you can give that to him, then you will never get rid of him. Scout can become so compliment seeking that it's uncomfortable for you, begging non-verbally for your affection like you're his mother or something. Sometimes very demandingly forcing you to look at him while he does something 'cool', expecting heavy praise from you for it. Not giving him that praise is arguably the worse option, because he will get cold and angry at you, sometimes pouting or refusing contact for multiple days. Usually when he gets back and you apologize, it comes with what you think is a playful threat to kill you if you keep it up. You hope it's playful.

He's been stalking you for months as he pretends to be your friend, and he knows so much about you now. He knows exactly how to make you laugh and exactly what you like in a person. He knows what your closet draw full of underwear looks like and he knows that you sleep on your side with one leg placed higher than the other. He knows your typical meals for the day and sometimes buys them for you before you even ask for them. From your view, Scout starts to seem awkward around you. You can kind of guess why, seeing as he hardly leaves you alone for 24 full hours at this point.

He ends up asking you out, properly. Not just friends or even his usual FWB relationships. No, he wants to date you now! Forever, hopefully!

cont.

—

If you accept his request, you will be in for the sweetest honeymoon phase of your life, full of gifts and nonstop affection and a boyfriend that craves your approval like a puppy. But he won't remain that way forever. Scout's senses run on fear like a wild animal, and the longer he gets to keep you, the more he needs to cling, to keep you secured to him. He starts trying to have sex daily, just to confirm to himself that you desire him. Sex starts to become aggressive, grabby and demanding, gripping you by the hair and ordering praises from you.

Scout needs to be where you are at all times, he must control what you're saying about him and what you think about him by being near you no matter what.

He starts to do everything for you, from cooking to holding doors open to driving you everywhere to paying all of your bills. Slowly you begin to realize you aren't doing anything independently anymore. Scout makes enough money for the both of you, so his request to quit your job feels like a no-brainer by now. He can and does pay for everything you need, and if you didn't know before, you definitely know he's doing something illegal for a job now.

He eventually begins throwing out the idea of you not leaving the house all together. Just think about it, he offers, cleaning his guns off in a way that is definitely unrelated to this conversation. What's the point of it when you have everything you could ever want here? Why do your friends need to see you outside when they can visit us here? Are you saying things to them I can't hear? No, of course not. So start staying here all day, where it's safe and I can always get to you.

Scout comes home covered in blood sometimes. You would question why your friends stop calling after those days, but you're not stupid. He slowly narrows down your circle until you don't talk to anyone but him. Even your family no longer contacts you, and you don't blame them with how threatening Scout can be. Scout has an entire family of people that could 'take care' of them and he made sure they know it.

On the surface, he still is a very loving, doting boyfriend who hangs off your arm and fulfills almost any request you have. He can provide for you and he clearly adores you in the way he seeks your approval all the time. You really do have a great partner, at the end of the day, one who takes care of you so well. What do you deserve to complain about? Scout is everything anyone could want. Murder and control issues notwithstanding.

—

If you reject his request, he will take it as a huge blow to his ego. If you offer to still be his friend, that's an even bigger blow. He thought you liked him back just as much. How could he be wrong? No, he wasn't wrong. You're just confused, surely. He just needs to double down somehow, to remind you of what you want. People love it when you patiently wait for them to change their mind. As little patience as he even feels like he has at this point. He's still following you home, and this night, he waits until you're asleep, and then sneaks in through a window you left unlocked. Why would you have left it unlocked, every time he comes here. It must mean that you know he's been doing this. That you do want him like this, but you can't admit it to him. He watches you sleep. You're beautiful when you sleep.

He takes something from your clothing drawer that night. Something you wear all the time, something he can be certain you'll notice. If you bring it up to him in a certain way, then he can tell if you know that he's doing this. He can't sleep that night, staring at your clothes on his desk chair. He's certain it must smell like you. So he tests it. And it does. Not the proudest J.O. of his life, but definitely one of the best, with your smell right there with him, your clothes wrapped around his dick for him to thrust into.

Two days go by and you haven't noticed. He puts the soiled clothing back into your drawers. Now there's no way you won't notice. And you do, bringing it up as an oddity that only might be something creepy, and nothing more. He's left you no reason to be suspicious so far either way, so him as the culprit doesn't cross your mind. But to him, it's the sign he needs that you know it's him.

He breaks into your house again that night. And again the next. He starts to practically live inside your house at night. He's doing poorly on the battlefield, and no one on the team really talks to him anymore, because the only thing he talks about is you, your rejection, your 'secret' of still loving him. That's fine, fuck those guys. Why does he need their approval now when he has you? You're the only thing he can seem to care about since then.

Around then, he asked you out again. Though the circumstances may be a little different. He breaks into your house while you're awake this time. Not only are you shocked to see him, but he has a gun as well. A gun pointed right at the side of your head as he asks, moreso demands, that you date him. There's a shaky desperation to his words, and a look in his eye that glints with the intention to harm you if you act out of line. There isn't any choice but to say yes, really. And he makes sure you don't call to anyone for help, either, staying with you through the night with the phone lines to your house destroyed.

He keeps you in the house the entire weekend, but on Monday, you have to go to work. And you beg him to let you leave just to cover your shift. He paces as he thinks about it, tapping his gun in his hand with his face screwed up in consideration. "Alright, you can go. But you know good 'n well what I'm capable of. You tell anyone, and they won't be alive to do anything about it."

And he's there to make sure of it, too. At least once an hour you swear you see him come into your work and loiter, watching you. It seems like every time you look up he's there somehow. Yet, when you get home, he's on your couch eating like nothing ever happened.

You're his partner now, whether you like it or not, and you will be kept with him through any coercion or cruelness necessary. One or two of your family members do die before you learn to keep your mouth shut and give him what he wants. Attention, admiration, approval, value. You are what gives him value. You will adore him or you will die. You should know to be a good partner by now instead of pissing him off.

[superums]

why do i cry — 42! miles prt 2.

spidey!reader. angst with happy ending. for general audiences. (cannon) character death. no y/n. childhood friends to crush to enemies to lovers. no official confession but a official confession. part 2 of this fic. somewhat of a accidental confession trope

color coded text: miles. you/spidey.

inspired by: why do i cry - margo guryan

"miles?" you felt like throwing up all over again, looking at the boy you've loved for almost all your life talking down to you. you were almost living the worst day of your life all over again.

you closed your eyes, expecting another barrage of punches only to be met with a hand grabbing your mask. you grabbed his arm but you were too weak to stop him.

in a instant your face was met with the cold snowflakes falling from the sky. readjusting your eyes you saw him standing over you. time stood still—what was a few seconds felt like years, decades.

your body loved faster then your mind did, snatching your mask, you put it back on before leaving him in your wake.

that entire week you genuinely felt sick with heart break. your mother tried to get you out of bed many times but she each time she came your face was wet with fresh tears.

you couldn't tell her why, you didn't want anyone else thinking less of you. instead you told her "i just need time.. please."

she gave you space, cooking your favorite meal every single day until you felt better and each time you did think you were getting better, the image of miles standing over you would come back making you feel sick all over again.

in the four weeks it was almost like you stopped existing from anyplace but your bedroom and in your absence crime started to pick up again, and so did the complaints from the media.

"some hero spidey is huh? kingpin robs bank after bank and that useless web-head is nowhere to be found?! new york this just shows we can't trust that sorry excuse of a hero for anything!"

jonah jameson yelled into his camera—he wasn't alone. from all over new york, anchors were throwing every professional name they could think of at you, miles felt like he was the blame.

in the weeks you've been gone his mind has yet to calm. he was about to kill you, if he didn't take off your mask theres no telling what he would've done.

he's been trying to stay away from you, but now crime is risen and theres been several threats that someone is going to attack the brooklyn bridge he knew he had to find you.

now he's standing in your bedroom. he almost stopped breathing as he stopped your still frame. walking closer, he sat next to your feet gently as he could. it took him forever before he opened his mouth.

"i..." he looked at his gauntlet. "i'm sorry for what i did... what i said." the lack of light of your room hid his the sick look on his face. your eyes were wide open and watering slightly as you saw his dark figure from the moonlight outside.

"i did believe what they said about you—how you killed my father... how you're a murderer... a cowardly killer. maybe since it was....maybe since it was him, it was easier for me to believe." you almost felt sick as you saw him wiping his face and sniffling; he was trying not to cry.

you listened as miles talked to himself out loud; he says that he didn't know how to handle jeffs death and that uncle aaron was the only person he felt like he could turn to.

that he worried his mom because he's out so late and bearly talks to anyone anymore but he has to provide for her now that his dads gone.

it takes him a while to stop talking and after that he sits in your room in silence almost like he was going to say something else, instead he heads to your window.

your open eyes stared into the darkness corners of your room as you contemplated stopping him. you wanted to let him go, you wanted to hate him but your heart wouldn't allow it—grabbing his hand you stopped him in his tracks.

whipping his head to face you, you stood on your knees in your bed, you were visibly disheveled, even shaking as you held his hqnd. "miles, i....." you were fighting back vomit and tears as you looked at the boy you love.

it didn't seem appropriate, he just confessed he wanted to kill you because of the news and that he wanted to make you pay—but you can't hold this in any longer. for as long as you could remember you've wanted to confess to him, now this might be the last time you see him ever you have to get it off your chest.

"miles...i like you—no i love you... even after what you said to me on that roof top." it felt like the world stopped for both you and him, his heart fastened as he stared at you. you closed your eyes, expecting him to leave, to say he had a girlfriend even laugh again you but instead you were met with a hug.

his gloved hand rubbed your back and his head burring itself into your shoulder. "i don't know what i'd do if you didn't..." you two cradled each other for a while before separating to look each other in the eyes. "i didnt mean to hurt you." he says after a moment.

holding your hand, he walked you to your window before opening it again. you squeezed his tighter as you saw him get ready to leave. kissing your cheek, he began to climb out of it. "i'll come see you after school... make sure you're dressed, imma take you somewhere." "y-yeah okay."

your legs felt like jelly as you watched him leave. heading back to your bed, you layed on your back for a moment before turning on your stomach and kicking your feet. "i better hurry up and get to bed.. i have a date tomorrow."

taglist: @lunagalaa @awow-2 @coffeeandtealol

[veespee]

Hey!! your writing is AMAZINGGGG and I love how you view characters.

Do you have any headcanons for vinnie everyman?

MOON!!! HI HI you are literally the reason why i made this account and started taking writing seriously,,, sobbing rn

i was planning on making a post about Vinnie but i couldn't come up with any interesting ones, so here are some that i brainstormed. sorry if there are any mistakes, i wanted to make them close to canon but i put some of my theories in there too :)

Vinnie Everyman Headcannons

-(this one's kinda sad so apologies) He sees Evan through HABIT, and HABIT through Evan. Basically: when HABIT jokes with Vinnie, he sees Evan. He sees his jokey and rowdy friend at that moment. But he has to remind himself; that's not Evan, that's a monster. But. When HABIT left Evan's body for some time, Vinnie could only see HABIT. He tells Evan that he doesn't think he's a monster, but i believe in the back of his mind, there's some bitterness. He knows this isn't Evan's fault, but he's still frustrated. He's so confused, no one's giving him answers. Except for HABIT.

That's why i think he's disappointed in a way, he wants HABIT to stay in Evan's body. HABIT is useful, although destructive. He doesn't like HABIT, he doesn't want to like HABIT, but he still needs him. He needs someone to tell him what to do, a higher being that knows more than him.

-^ continuing that, that's the reason why he didn't take Corenthal's warning seriously. He believed HABIT over his own father, biological or not, figure because HABIT is so knowledgeable. He thinks HABIT is so wise, and that's what HABIT wants Vinnie to believe. It feeds his ego, and he keeps Vinnie under his control.

-Also, it's not really hard to be manipulated by HABIT. He talks and acts like he's wise and knowledgeable, and honestly, he's good at it. Vinnie's intimidated by his threats, but also follows him around like a dog. Again, i'm repeating myself, but he's so infatuated with HABIT cause he feels like he's the only one that can answer him. And HABIT keeps him around to feed his ego, and to get his plan going.

-Furthermore, I think his relationship with Corenthal is SO interesting. Although i think Corenthal in general is such an interesting and underrated character, but that's a whole another post. Now, for this one I'll go a bit far from canon, but these are HCs so i guess that's the point lol: Basically, i think Vinnie DOES see Corenthal as a father figure, but he has complicated emotions. He distances himself from Corenthal, possibly out of just bitterness. Now i'm talking about the YouTube iteration, not Fairmount or Princeton, so that means that Vinnie has his own biological parents. However, Vinnie's memory got wiped (i mean, he knows he has parents and siblings, but he can't remember anything about them) so who's the only one he can remember? Dr. Corenthal.

Corenthal falls under someone I believe Vinnie gets attached to; someone who's wise, knowledgeable. He's a doctor, and a much older man, and he knows a lot about the boys' situation. We don't see a lot of interactions between them, so I'll just use my imagination for this part, but i believe that Vinnie is bitter because of how little Corenthal has said. He knows the Doctor knows what's going on, yet he's such a mysterious figure. He only appears a handful of times, and the other information they have about him are from old letters he had written. So Vinnie must be thinking, why isn't he helping? Why isn't he protecting us, if he has so much knowledge? So when Corenthal does contact him, he's suspicious. He doesn't believe him, instead, he believes HABIT. HABIT's there for him, even in a twisted way, and Vinnie believes that there's no way he's being lied to. So when Corenth tries to open Vinnie's eyes, he keeps them shut, and stays blind to HABIT's manipulation. Thus, resulting to Vinnie's death. Thus, resulting to another iteration where Corenthal can't save his children.

alright that's all :3 thank you for reading and thank you Moon for the request!!

[gz-missfit]

So I wanna talk about tazercraft cause their characters are so incredibly interesting to me in the best way possible. To preface this I don't speak a word of Portuguese (I'm learning tho! And have been picking up on sentences a lot more) and my native language isn't English so I may get some things wrong and if I do feel free to correct me!

More under the cut:

I'll put this in 3 separate parts, them individually and then their dynamic!

Mike:

Mike is interesting to me, he's definitely the outward instigator of the 2 when it comes to causing trouble and as many have already pointed out the brains behind a lot of it! He's managed to master the create mod in ways I genuinely never expected them to be used and it's a cute way to say that mine (his wife) was also a cause of that as the goddess of creation. To move to his personality more he's definitely the lead talker in the duo, he's a lot more confident in his voice and speaking in comparison to Pac and can often seem like the lead of the duo, tho this is the cause for people missing his weaknesses! Mike is not a fighter, far from that actually, he freezes in danger and fumbles. His hand tremble when he holds a sword and sees mobs closing in and when big threats appear his whole body turns into ice. He gets overstimulated by danger he couldn't prepare for or was the cause of. Just to name 2 examples here, the first is in the dungeon on the day the timer ran out you could hear him panic, he was a lot more shaky and especially his sword being the cause of injuries to his friends is what made that worse, it went so far that he even typed in chat that he was overwhelmed (fun fact to note is that through all of that he basically vanished from pacs pov but I'll get to that). Another example is when the code showed up to him and pac to drop Richas cow head to them, he later on explicitly state having frozen in fear to i think Fit if i remember correctly and even when ttt was typed in the chat and pac had jumped down to follow Richas to make sure he could teleport Mike was again, nowhere to be seen.

His fear of a fight that revolves around his family and death especially is so interesting to me cause it's obvious that a lot of that comes from Richas first death and how he still blames himself for it, the fear of failing his loved ones again being set deep into his bones whenever a danger for their lives comes up. This is why the prison stream actually was even more interesting to me than I initially expected, because his personality in that sense took a complete 180! Now it's been shown time and time again that Mike has an intense distaste of the federation and hasn't been fond of them for a long time, he's incredibly hostile to them and not scared at all when threatened by them to the point where it's a game for him and he's retaliated with threats that could lead to a ban for him multiple times. Before I move on I think the reason as to why this is is because the federation never showed to kill or take lives, I think that's why Mike has a lot more confidence in confronting them rather than things that have shown to be fatal with all intention of killing. Back to the prison though, Mike's personality to threats definitely took a turn in there, from the moment we saw him he looked pissed beyond believe and his tone was always threatening and almost mocking, his mind quickly was set on getting him and pac out as soon as possible and the realization that Walter Bob, someone who both have seen be the first federation worker that showed them kindness and an interest in what they do after willingly showing up for a haircut is what devastated him. Mike sees Walter as a close friend due to that and it showed because as soon as the realization of Walters long term treatment hit him he did everything to protect the worker he maybe met a handful of times, you could see him get more and more agitated the more the guards hit him and ironically enough I think if Walter hadn't been there idk if he would've killed the guard, but he was so set on finally setting Walter free as well as make sure Pac doesn't have to relive the past they shared that he was willing to do everything to get those 3 out and that all is perfectly encapsulated by his behavior once Walter got taken again, Mike wasn't sad or distraught like Pac was, no, he was fucking fuming to the point where he didn't respond to Pac. Ya know, the person he talks to 24/7 and that's attached to his hip to the point where most of their words are shared telepathically above all. It was obvious that he was angry beyond believe and I'm sure he's got a lot more plans up his sleeve now to get revenge. Cause if there's one thing about Mike it's definitely that you do not want him as your enemy. He may be an outwardly social guy who is definitely more focused on making people laugh and showing off the things he and Pac created but he's still a fugitive and would destroy the world for those he holds dear as they help him feel stronger in the moments where fear does get the better of him.

Pac:

Pac is honestly incredibly fascinating just due to how many levels his character has. He's outwardly the person that appears more shy in comparison to Mike and stumbles as well as gets flustered quick. This has also been the main cause of people seeing him as a weaker player (which also got added onto by how during the earlier days he'd be the one to die a lot) which in turn has caused an interesting dynamic between him and a bunch of the others players because he's far from that. Pac is full on the brawns when it comes to situations that mean fighting for someone's life, his brain goes into focus mode once a life is on the line and there's many examples to show that! Which is why I find it so funny that he often gets handed things due to seeming and behaving weaker than he actually is (main example here being etoiles who not only gave him a custom diamond sword early on which Pac has kept to this day but also the Scythe which he nowadays uses as his only weapon).

Now to the examples of how he can very much carry his own weight In fights and how fascinating it is to watch him, the first big show of him effortlessly carrying himself and doing his best to support others was during the timer dungeon, he was at the front with Bad,Etoiles and Cellbit and even when a lot less geared than those 3 with a weapon that did a lot less damage he didn't go down once even tho he wasn't even holding a totem at any point. It's genuinely impressive with how well he carried himself through that and used movement to attack big groups of mobs from behind only to have vanished out of their sight again before they could corner him. The only time he got truly cornered was at a point where even Etoiles had to back up a little and ended up next to him and the way Pac casually mentioned being fine only to instantly jump at the opportunity of humor through small talk sticks in my brain to this day due to him having stayed mainly silent the whole time before that. The 2 other examples are about Richas and how quick Pac is to defend his son, like I mentioned before when the Code showed up to him, Mike and Richas, Pac instantly jumped into aggressive, he wanted to hit it but fell due to underestimating the jump and as soon as he laid eyes in Richas he became Pacs priority sticking to his sons side until he was Tp'd away and only then returning to the Platform. The same thing happened during the dinner! Every parent except for him crashed when the codes revealed themselves and as much as Richas was quick to start running the speed at which Pac laid eyes on the egg and started to follow right next to him was genuinely mind blowing, he stood at that elevator once Richas left ready to die if it came to it just to make sure one of those things didn't follow him, and as soon as Mike relogged he became Pacs priority with the latter hovering around him will he was loading in.

Now to compare this to the behavior in prison is interesting. Pacs still as good as ever when it comes to putting on a persona to get what he wants but I do believe that the prison brought up a lot of trauma for him, from what I know his time in prison was a lot worse than Mike's and you could hear that through his voice throughout the whole stream. Pacs a physical fighter not a mental one. But in the end he still has that survival instinct, he still knows he needs to get out to protect his family and he doesn't want to be separated from his other half and best friend anymore so he plays sly. The way he stole the keys from the guard genuinely is the most slick maneuver ever and his ability to portrait his behavior in an exaggerated way that makes him seem like no threat at all has worked in his favor multiple times during this too. He was definitely suffering through that whole experience but his determination to protect the ones he loved still slipped through, his hesitancy when he called to the guards not to hit his friends only to have his voice go small once he was physically threatened. He's not at all comfortable when he doesn't have anything to fight back with. Pacs underestimated A LOT, he let's himself be pushed around for bits with a smile and definitely enjoys appearing a bit dumber and less skilled than he is just due to the perks of it and not really caring for bragging about fighting skills when he'd rather show off the project he and Mike have spent time on, only those with a keen eye can see how he's got the heart of a fighter (Etoiles being the first to vocally call this out) he's not weak by any means and definitely a lot smarter than he'd ever admit. He'd die to protect his family and the ones he cares about and would never back down if push came to shove for them.

To sum this all up and not make this too long (which it already is pfff) for both of them together their dynamic is very clearly the "do not separate" but funnily enough Mike is the one who definitely leans onto that more. During each fight where he panicked, got overwhelmed and/or froze he was missing from Pacs pov, they were split apart and it was Mike who was terrified of not being able to hold his own, the same happened in the prison just differently. In the prison Mike definitely put on a cold facade but it broke everytime he asked if they could share the same cell, the underlying fear of him having to fight alone lacing his words through moments like that. This doesn't mean that Pac isn't the same tho! He's just less outwardly vocal about it in comparison and shows it more through actions and looks. It was obvious to hear his distress when he called Mike's name in prison but his constant turning around to see where the other is and his hesitancy to go into areas that implied separation are what showed how hes just as scared as Mike is about loosing the other.

To go more into headcanon and theories I'd like to think of the 2 as 2 hearts and a shared soul, their telepathic communication is borderline Canon at this point and it's obvious that the thought or implications of being separated doesn't sit well at all with either of them. Their bodies and life's are separate but they're still connected by a soul. And whether that's shown through jokes like not being able to be in one spot without the other or through genuine things like Mike having to remind Pac that only he can hear him unless he uses his voice or their ability to flawlessly work around the other is up to interpretation of each viewer in my opinion but there's something to be said about the fact that without the other they'd never had the determination or confidence to get out of that prison, that without the other their weaknesses would show a lot more and end up causing a lot bigger of a struggle than they currently are. Without the other they wouldn't feel whole.

[viaviv124]

Alright you know what time it is, i have a new AU concept.

I would like to apologize beforehand about anything incoherent, the rough concept was a dream of mine and i need to fix it up a bit, but i think my current draft is coherent enough.

ALRIGHT LETS START

So we have these buncha sheep/goat kids around a hill, around 15 of 'em. No parents or other adults there for them and they range between 8 and 13. Every morning, not long after breakfast, a horn sounds. Shamura has immerged and the fight begins. Everyday around the same time the god appears and disappears at the evening and the children try to take them down.

Backstory time, the common folk have started a war with the gods (there's more than the bishops and most of the bishops are still young themselves) and didn't know what they were getting into. Bodies drop left and right, yet the mortals managed to take down a few gods as well. The world is closer to a wasteland in some places, like here. A bunch of lamb and goat kids, that lost their families in the war, gather at this hill, yet when they all got there Shamura was there. A feared upon god. So the children vowed to take them down. Shamura, on the other hand, empathizes with the kids simply because they're so young, not to mention they have young siblings of their own and couldnt imagine them in this kind of situation. They do not wish to harm them and moreso returns every day to humour them. They don't destroy anything the kids built if they can help it and they only kill if absolutely necessary, though in the years they're only responsible for one death among them. At night they disappear so the children have time to rest and make Strategies. But Shamura isn't fully gone, they make sure to get rid of all surrounding threats to grant these kids peace. Sometimes they even sneakily provide food once the kids don't have enough.

Years pass and the children have turned to late teens and young adults and among them only 3 people have died. One death to Shamura and two to illness. One lamb (protagonist and the one we know from the game, i dont have a name yet) has become the leader after the one before died to illness a few years ago and they take their role very seriously. One morning the sheeps and goats get into position and hiding, allthough they still have enough time. Breakfast is being made and handed out. The lamb is hiding with a close friend (the goat from unholy alliance) and after they had taken their food and as their friend is taking theirs whilst chatting with the cook, the lamb's eyes widen. They spot a god in mortal form that has appeared undetected. A black cat with 3 red eyes. And they are looking directly at the lamb.

Cutaway scene because it's another thing i had in mind, Leshy is entering a cave and finds a scared, unresponsive yellow cat. A mortal, all alone, sick. He takes them with him for unknown reasons.

WOO AND THATS IT SO FAR! I'd love to hear y'alls opinions and suggestions because i'm stuck as to where to take this- :')

[kybelles]

it’s incredibly disappointing and shocking to see how misogynistic and vile the capri fandom is towards jokaste even in the year of 2023, to the point of calling her “used goods” and “an opportunistic slut” (YES YOU READ IT RIGHT!) it gets extra depressing when you remember jokaste did what she did to save damen’s life and it wasn’t even acknowledged by damen or that she was really rewarded other than laurent letting her go instead of her being charged with treason.

the most common argument i come across is “we don’t know if she did it to save damen’s life! it was purely laurent’s theory therefore it’s ambiguous.” now i know media literacy has been a lost art for the longest time so it doesn’t necessarily surprise me but if you read this exchange, based on her reaction, it’s quite clear that laurent was correct in his assumption:

and if even this isn’t a solid proof for you, here’s pacat’s own words:

another arguments i frequently see are:

a- “why didn’t she try to warn damen?” damen’s literal best friend from his childhood days tried to warn him against kastor and he paid him no mind. you really believe he would listen to jokaste, someone he’d known for a shorter period than nikandros?

b- “did she really need to sleep with kastor?” …yes? do i need to remind you that damen’s entire household was killed? which would include jokaste if she wasn’t kastor’s mistress? not to mention she had to be close to kastor to save damen.

through the series, pacat intentionally draws parallels between laurent and jokaste; both appearance and character wise. remember this scene where laurent stopped the vaskian raiders from instantly killing damen?

jokaste played the same gamble. she had no way of knowing whether damen would survive in vere or not but she had to try because she loved damen too much to see him slaughtered like a pig in front of her eyes. and yes i use the word love because just look at the way she talks about him… oh my god… like while it is implied jokaste first got close to damen for personal gain, she obviously developed feelings for him after some point and had the utter respect for him. (i always think it’s quite sad us fic writers need to write her cheating on damen with kastor in modern aus for plot sake because under normal circumstances, jokaste would never let damen go)

i guess the horrible misogyny aside, what also drives me insane is the double standard. laurent had damen collared like a slave, drugged him, forced him to fight with the threat of rape if he lost, whipped him, sexually assaulted him by proxy and the fandom can still sympathize with him and love him (don’t get me wrong i love him too) but when it comes to jokaste, someone who had no choice and did the only thing she could do to save damen, people hate her passionately and call her awful names. it’s infuriating. it’s disgusting.

tldr; jokaste genuinely loved damen and made the only choice she could under those unfortunate circumstances to save him from a horrible death and while no one is obligated to love her, this appalling misogyny train needs to stop.

[yearningandstillnotlearning]

𝚃𝚘 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐.

- B.E.

First request!!! Req by: @bilsluckyheart !! Thank you for your faith in me and i hope i didn’t disappoint <3

A/N: used one of my experiences and altered it some more!! Help!!

C/W: m*n mentioned, comphet implied, death mentioned (?), angst, hurt no comfort, no use of y/n, Billie referred to with her name instead of she once, hope i didn’t miss smt

Summary: You finally get a partner and as you said you didn’t care what they were like! You just wanted to not be alone. Is that what fulfils you? Is that what you expected to happen when you were finally “not alone?” Bet you didn’t expect to lose what you realised way too late was what you truly wanted there with you.

❀。 •*₊❀。 • *₊°。 ❀°· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° ❀。 •

A man, a man supposedly being your boyfriend but you can’t seem to help that you see him as a best friend more than anything. Sex feels rather like a playtime-pass time than intimacy - what’s supposed to be dates instead is like going out with your dad’s friend instead of your lover - being with him feels more suffocating than it does to be utterly alone.

Sick worried about your sexuality and cravings, controlling to the core. You needn’t have cut her off, did you? You didn’t like her like that, right?

Or was it just you being in denial? Have you thought how obvious it is when others hear how you talk to her, your tone, your blabbering, clinging onto every little detail ever just for the sake of a never-ending conversation. How your eyes light up the entire milky way the moment she looks your way, gives you attention, answers your texts, you you you in her mind you wanted it to be you.

And he saw that as a threat, his very own misery being contagiously inflicted to you, all in plain sight.

So many excuses for how he is- but you cant deny it. You don’t dare deny it, and you know it too.

The car rides you’d wish would lead to her, the friends you’d go out with you wished would include her, the indirect questions of his old friends in a flick of hope to hear about her.

She was never to be talked of again.

He broke up with you, why are you sad? Body shaking with devastation, tears running like real-life waterfalls, screams of a broken heart hope. You had only hoped you like him, you had only hoped you could convince yourself you like men, the way they like you. The closet shut so quick for the sake of being with someone for once, anyone.

It doesn’t take long until you realise you’re better without him, you aren’t miserable yourself, you were forced to be but yourself. The episodes and constant crying is over, your body has no one to reject anymore, so as the months go by, why do you still feel crashed?

Mind replaying the thoughts you had while dating him, how often you’d think of Billie, wish for her upon every shooting star, hoping your words would reach her under the same night sky.

You weren’t in love with her though? Right?

The times she’d laugh at your stupid jokes and you’d only grow warmer, all from inside out. The way she laughed at your idiotic jokes, eyes shut closed and uncontrollable irregular panting laughs, you felt your heart open up and flutter like a lotus. You weren’t breathing anymore - you were blooming.

Or how she would always react to you with a smile, no she wasn’t always happy, but she felt that way whenever you were in the picture.

You knew she wasn’t always happy, especially when you tried to contact her about a month after your breakup, after the breakup of probably the most pathetic relationship ever.

Her hometown being your own isn’t helping, with a new year of studies crawling in and summer days shortening she’s come to visit family and friends and you cant help but imagine every other girl she interacted with was you.

Stolen glances while passing by the street, yours were full head turns, trying to drink up as much of her as you can in that luck-pathed moment, whereas hers almost looked through you. Short and cold, like broken icicles used as daggers.

The eyes that once bent and twinkled with such a welcoming warmth you now find them leaving you breathless. The hands that once opened up like wings, fingers empty of their shiny rings, -something she always did knowing how the sensation makes you cringe unpleasantly- knowing she’s gonna see you, eager to be held by you contentedly, palms facing you with a silent request to hold them — now you see fallen, the only thing about them looking at you being the big shiny intimidating rings peeking from a fist.

The mud is dirty, the water is not the best. All kinds of things found around the pond taking a sip or a dip. But a lotus flower grows again tomorrow even cleaner than before. Why can’t she see it?

You a year ago today is nothing compared to you right now, you know what you are and what you want. So why is she suddenly scared to get wet? Why is every person attracted to the pond but her?

Everyone but the one you want.

The one person to bloom the lotus within you, the one to plant the lotus seed inside you, to keep it from rotting all along. She gave it life and left it with you to die.

Or at least you tell that yourself to feel better, better about the fact that you left her without a word and hoped for the best.

You hadn’t realised just how much time had passed, or that time had passed at all. Now out of your mind and back to your body, looking right at the entrance of a park, you hadn’t moved an inch since you looked back and was met with a killer gaze. The evening sky turning to yet another dark night. Were the nights always this cold?

You lean against the random buildings fence, state of shock unbothered. Your head tilts up as the breeze kisses past your features, thats when you realise your body has betrayed you yet again, wet cold teary cheeks.

Blink,, blink,,, blink… and you shot your eyes up ahead, the stars in the dark blue of the sky dancing along the hue of the endless horizon above and beyond, and for a moment you saw her eyes again, for a moment you saw her staring at you the way she used to. For a final moment before you felt your heart rip itself apart.

...

..

You had no outlet for your love to her, you didn’t have her. What was there to do with a feeling so tender that sucker punches your stomach the moment it sees the owner of it whole? A feeling that fights against your held back words and actions, trying to get out in any way, ends up finding that the only way out, is through.

There was no room for it. If you clung onto it, it would only destroy you.

[onceuponastory]

if you believe in me - the winter soldier x reader

Part 2 of my Ghost Story AU - Read the previous part here.

Plot: Y/N and Bucky flee her grandma’s house, and with the help of Steve and Sam, soon make it back to Avengers HQ, to safety. And there, Y/N learns the truth. Pairing: The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death, violence/abuse, trauma, blood, pain, torture, brainwashing, weapons, and everything Bucky did as the Winter Soldier, and had done to him by HYDRA. Please use your own discretion. As always if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: This is the very requested part two to my fic Ghost Story, so please read that first if you haven’t already. Thank you for loving this story so much and for wanting to see more! Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Ready?” Bucky smiles. And without even thinking about it, Y/N nods. Even though they've only known each other for about a week, she’d follow him anywhere. 

“Okay. We’ll get the jet sorted. Wheels up in less than two hours. We’ll be back at HQ by tomorrow morning.” Sam explains. And then, Y/N and Bucky are alone again.

“How are you feeling about all this?” She asks, and Bucky raises a brow.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the one who’s had your whole life upended for the second time already. Sorry about that, by the way.” Y/N shrugs.

“Bucky.” She soothes. “You don’t have to be sorry. I understand why you did it. You were terrified of going back to HYDRA and thought I posed a threat. You were just trying to protect yourself.” Bucky nods. But he still feels awful about scaring her so badly, and making her think for even a second that her life was in jeopardy. At least now he knows that Y/N could never hurt him. Honestly, he doesn’t think she has an evil bone in her body. Not like him, with all the blood he has on his hands. No matter how much he tries to repent, that blood will still be there. He’s always going to be the Winter Soldier. A murderer. “Well, your life has completely changed in less than an hour. You’re going home with your friends who love and care about you. It’s probably a lot to take in.” Y/N continues. And she’s right. Honestly, Bucky feels like he just got his old life back, handed to him on a silver platter. Or at least, he’s on the steps to it. “I’m glad you’ve got it back, Bucky.” She’s so kind. Even when he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Honestly, he’s not quite ready to live this new life yet. At least, not without Y/N. She’s a big part of his life now, too. 

Yet, he notices that there’s something troubling her.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing.” He can tell that she doesn’t want to take away from his happy moment with his friends by talking about her problems. But Bucky wants her to know how incredibly grateful he is to her, and that she means a lot to him. And that includes her feelings and her worries. 

He doesn’t know what angel was looking down on him the day he found Y/N’s grandmother’s house, but he’s so glad that they were. After all, if it wasn’t for Y/N, he wouldn’t have his life back. She saved his life.

“Y/N. It’s okay. Just tell me the truth. We’ve been through a lot already, remember?” He points out, and Y/N chuckles. Some may find it strange that they’re laughing about everything they’ve been through, but he already feels close enough to her to do so. And that’s why he’s even more glad that she’s coming with them.

“I just.” She sighs, still clearly unwilling to admit her feelings. Yet, when Bucky prompts her further, she explains. “I feel weird about leaving all my grandmother’s stuff here. It’s the main reason I came here after all. What if you’re right, and HYDRA comes looking for us? I don’t want it being destroyed. That's all I have left of her.” Bucky nods. He understands her worries, of course. If there was anything that reminded him of his past, he’d want to keep it safe too. He just wishes there was something to remind him of his old life, when he was still Bucky Barnes, not the Winter Soldier. But since he can’t do that, the least he can do is help Y/N keep her grandmother’s memory alive.

“Well, how about you bring a few things with you, and I’ll help you put some stuff away and hide it? And once this is all done, I promise that we’ll come back and get her stuff. Whatever you want, and whatever you need. Just us two.” Y/N nods, smiling softly. Although that’s all she wants, she knows that Bucky’s just trying to keep her morale up. Honestly, she’s not holding out much hope for her grandmother’s things if HYDRA does come knocking, whether they’re hidden or not. Ideally, she’d stay here, keeping them safe whilst trying to live as normal a life as possible. She knows there’s no way Bucky can promise something like that.

Yet, she appreciates Bucky’s effort to cheer her up all the same. Because she knows the alternative is much worse than what he’s proposing. And besides, she knows that when it comes down to it, her life is worth more than some photographs. And of course, her grandma would’ve wanted her to stay alive too. “Just us two.” Bucky’s voice echoes in her mind. Deep down, she hopes that will be their future. Her and Bucky, just like it was before.

“Okay.” She nods. “That sounds good.”

Despite the cramped jet, Y/N is glad to be on the way to safety. Or at least, what she hopes is safety. During the ride, there is mostly silence with the occasional bit of small talk here and there. But Y/N is glad to be sitting in silence. Being in such close proximity to Captain America and the Falcon is making her heart race already, let alone the thought of making small talk with them. Y/N looks at the lights below as the sky darkens, once again realising how different her life has become since going through everything with Bucky. She’ll never be able to return to a normal life after this. Whatever ‘normal’ is now. What if HYDRA hunts them down for the rest of their lives? What if she can never go home again? …Wherever her home is now, that is.

But despite that, she’s glad that she and Bucky have been brought closer together. They’ve really made a connection, despite how they met. And at least she’s going through this new and unfamiliar experience with him. After all, she trusts him. 

Some time later, Bucky glances over, checking on Y/N. She’s asleep, softly snoring as her chest slowly rises and falls. He smiles, watching her for a little while. It reminds him of the night she took care of him, cleaned his wounds, and made him some food. That night was the night everything changed, and he started to see Y/N in a new light, as a carer rather than a danger to him. Maybe, Bucky thinks, he was wrong. When he said an angel was looking down on him when he found Y/N’s grandma’s house… maybe Y/N was the angel all along, sent to show him that there’s still good in the world after everything he went through.

The morning after, he had woken up feeling more refreshed than he ever had before. And then, he noticed Y/N fast asleep in the armchair beside him. Without even thinking about it, he had wrapped a blanket around her. Even thought it was a small gesture, it was the least he could do after all she had done for him. After that, he didn’t even focus on his mission, or make sure that HYDRA wasn’t tracking them. He just watched her. Making sure she was okay. She seemed so at peace, compared to the first time they met. As the sun rose and its golden glow shone on her face, Bucky registered his heart beating ever so slightly faster. And this time, it wasn’t because of fear. He’s started to get that feeling a lot more, he’s realised. At least, whenever Y/N is around.

But before he has time to dwell too much on that feeling, Steve interrupts with a “We’ll be there in about an hour.” Sighing, Bucky nods, and his stomach begins to churn. God knows what awaits him when they land, when he’s brought back in front of the Avengers after killing so many innocent civilians. Of course, Steve and Sam reassured him they would stand by him and explain that it wasn’t his fault, but Bucky knows it won’t make much difference. Controlled or not, he still did it. He looks back over at Y/N, still fast asleep and completely unaware of just how deep this goes… and all the violence that Bucky is capable of. 

Ideally, she’d never know, because Bucky doesn’t want Y/N to be afraid ever again, especially not of him. He doesn’t want to lose her, either. She’s done so much good for him, more than he could ever deserve, and he’ll protect her from everything bad in the world.

Even him.

Avengers HQ, Y/N soon learns, is a lot bigger than she expected. As soon as they arrive, someone takes Steve and Sam away for questioning. And with that, she's also reminded of just how unimportant she is compared to her companions. An innocent civilian who had her life turned upside down overnight, someone who doesn’t fit in this life full of superheroes and secret agents. As people mill about the building, looking at her curiously, she wonders what they’re thinking, and what’s going to happen to her. 

“Are they going to want to question me, too?” Bucky shrugs.

“Maybe. Steve and Sam are the Avengers, so they’re the ones who are in high demand right now.” But before Y/N can say much else, a group of guards suddenly swarms the pair. Two of them grab Bucky’s arms.

“Sir, come with us.” One of them orders.

“Wait, what’s going on?!” Y/N calls, trying to jump in and stop them. Steve and Sam hear her cries and come rushing. Yet, the guards ignore her and start dragging Bucky away. And the whole time, Bucky doesn’t fight it. Instead, he gazes back at Y/N sadly. And then, he just lets them take him. “Bucky!” Y/N calls after him. She tries to go after him, to make sure that he’s alright… but a guard angrily gets in her face.

“Ma’am. Move back, or we will make you move.” He snaps, the heat of his breath against her skin making her flinch. 

“But-” Yet, before she can plead Bucky’s case any further, Steve steps in, gently pulling her back.

“I understand, sir. I-I’m sorry.” Y/N tries to wriggle out of his grasp, to run after Bucky down the hallway, but Steve’s firm grasp on her arm stops her.

“Steve, where are they taking him?!” she demands. Steve sighs, his shoulders slumping. For a moment, the first time she met Steve flashes in her mind. His tall, confident pose, the image of a hero. Now, he looks the complete opposite. He can’t even look her in the eyes.

“He’s going into a holding cell, Y/N.”

“Why is he in a cell? Have they taken him into custody?”  When she sees the nervous glance Steve and Sam give each other, her brow raises. 

“It’s just a precaution.” 

“For what?! Sure, he scared me at first, but he did nothing to hurt me. He’s not dangerous.” She insists. “I can go explain to them, Steve. Just let me go!” Yet, both of them are still quiet. And Y/N feels her stomach drop. “Guys…what’s going on?” Steve sighs, releasing her arm and running a hand through his hair. 

“There’s something you should know about Bucky.”

The pair sit her down first, making sure she’s comfortable. Despite knowing their actions are coming from a place of kindness, they only make her more nervous. Whatever they’re about to tell her, it can’t be good. And then, slowly, they explain everything that Bucky did whilst under HYDRA’s control. All the blood that stains his hands, and all the lives he’s destroyed. Even everything he tried to do to Steve and Sam before Steve managed to get through to him. Y/N sits there, silent as she takes everything in. 

“He told me about HYDRA, and what they did to him. Why didn’t he tell me about this?” She gasps, suddenly grateful to be sitting down. If she hadn’t have been, she swears she may have collapsed. 

“He probably didn’t want you being even more frightened, especially after he already pointed a gun at you.” Y/N takes a few breaths to calm herself down, her heartbeat racing. Although she knows she has no right to demand more information about Bucky’s trauma, she would’ve rather heard this from him, on his terms, instead of after he’s been dragged down a hallway by armed guards like some sort of animal.

“B-But it wasn’t him, was it? At least, he wasn’t in the right state of mind. He told me they wiped his memory, so they must’ve done something to make him like this, right?!” she demands, not even realising how shaky her voice is. Sure, they got off on the wrong foot at first, to put it lightly, but Bucky has been so kind to her. The idea that someone like that could be responsible for something like this…. 

And then, she remembers their first meeting, and the gun pointed directly in her face. At first, she put it down to how terrified Bucky must’ve been to hear her walking into the room, and when she learnt just what he’s been through, that confirmed it for her. All this time, she assumed he thought she was a HYDRA agent, but stopped when he realised she was just a civilian. Now, she sees it in a new light. He really was about to kill her, after all. She was a witness to him, and he was told that witnesses need to be silenced. After all, he silenced everyone else.

No wonder she thought he looked like some kind of super trained assassin. He’s been one this whole time. 

“We don’t know the full extent of what HYDRA did to him, but now we know that yes… they brainwashed him, and manipulated him into doing it. It wasn’t Bucky’s choice.” Sam confirms. Y/N nods. That makes her feel a little better about the situation, but it still doesn’t help calm her. The same fears she had when she first met Bucky, about how she was going to die and wondering just what sort of monster she was suddenly sharing her grandmother’s house with, now rear their ugly heads once more. She tries to push them down, to picture the memories she has with Bucky now. Smiling, laughing, happy times.

He’s not dangerous. He can’t be. She saw the way he looked at the world, and at her. 

“The three of us know Bucky’s not dangerous, but in the eyes of the law, he is. He killed a lot of agents too, not just civilians. So for now, he has to be treated as such.” Steve adds. Y/N doesn’t respond.

She could’ve died.

She should be dead.

But something stopped him. Somehow, she got spared.

“Look, it’s been a long day. How about we get you some food, and find a place to-”

“Why didn’t he kill me?” She asks, cutting him off. When neither of them replies, she continues. “You said it yourself. HYDRA sent him out to kill their detractors and told him not to leave any witnesses. I’m a witness. Fuck, I surprised him in his safe hiding place. He could have shot me right away without a second thought, but he didn’t.” Her voice gets louder and louder as she speaks, almost yelling.

“We don’t know either.” Steve shrugs. “Hell, I’m his oldest friend and he still tried to kill me at first, even when I told him who I was. Maybe his brainwashing was fading, and he felt safe around you. Or maybe he took pity on you.”

“You took care of him, too.” Sam points out. “That probably helped him not see you as a threat.”

Despite nodding her head in agreement with their explanations, Y/N still can’t understand why she was spared while others weren't. Sure, perhaps Bucky’s brainwashing was wearing off, and that’s why he took pity on her, but given what she’s heard about him and what he’s capable of, she’s still surprised that she survived their first encounter completely unscathed without so much as a bruise. Maybe there’s more to it, another reason she could bring him back and convince him to let her live where others failed.

And she wants to know what it is.

A few moments later, a woman approaches the trio. Her brunette hair is tied in a pristine bun, and her eyes pass over the three of them. When she reaches Y/N, her brow quirks. Y/N gulps. Here it comes. Is she going to be hauled into an interrogation room? Or arrested for knowing too much about all of this? She could make a break for it, but she’s already seen the weapons their guards carry, and she definitely does not want to be on the receiving end of them.

“Maria. Nice to see you again.” Steve chuckles. She doesn’t laugh.

“Fury wants to see you in his office. Immediately.” She states. Judging from her stance, Y/N can tell she’s important, and that she means business. In other words, do not get on her bad side. As Steve and Sam start walking, Maria raises her brow again, glancing over at Y/N. “You too.” She beckons. Quickly, Y/N follows behind them, murmuring a ‘sorry’ to Maria. 

The office is pristine, and full of tech that Y/N could only ever dream of affording. God, she definitely does not fit into this life. A figure stands at the front of the room.

“Rogers. Wilson.” He speaks, and both nod. And then, the man notices her. “You must be Y/N Y/L/N.” Y/N’s brow furrows.

“How do you-”

“I know everything there is to know.” The man replies. “I’m Director Nick Fury. I’ve heard a lot about you, and how you helped Barnes.” Still surprised, Y/N nods. Guess she has to get used to people knowing every little detail about her life now. And if the Avengers know every aspect about her life, that means HYDRA will too, if they’re looking for her. Because that’s not terrifying at all.

“I did. So, what happens now?” 

“Well, we have to monitor him for a while until we’re sure he’s not a threat. I assume Rogers and Wilson told you about the Winter Soldier?” She nods again, too afraid of saying the wrong thing. “Good. As for you, you’ll be moved into a safe house until things are under control. We’ll put agents around you to make sure nothing happens.” When she blinks in surprise, Nick’s brows furrow. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Not at all, it’s just….” She sighs. “I wasn’t expecting all this. Honestly, I didn’t realise I was worth the trouble.” She chuckles awkwardly. Nobody else laughs. When she first came here, Y/N didn't know what she expected. But it definitely wasn’t this, to have so many people trying to protect her of all people.

“Well, there isn’t much choice. You’re not an Avenger, so you can’t stay in the compound with the others.” The casual nature of his tone surprises her. As if her staying with Iron Man, Captain America, the Falcon and their friends was ever a possibility. “But you are a witness, and you’re interlinked with Barnes’ life now, arguably just as much as these two.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far-”

“To HYDRA, that makes you incredibly valuable. They want to get their soldier back, and they won’t hesitate to go after his friends to get him. And that includes you.” He insists, cutting her off. Her cheeks heat up slightly at being called Bucky’s friend. She never saw herself as that. Bucky was just a guy she was sharing her life with, and they slowly got closer to one another. Yet, after how close they’ve become, and how she followed him here with little prompting, he’s right. Obviously, part of her decision making was because she didn’t want to have to fend off a mass of HYDRA agents on her own, but the majority of it was because she didn’t want to leave Bucky. It feels like their time together has only just begun, and she wants to stay and help him with his healing journey as much as she can. Honestly, calling Bucky her friend feels right. “Understand?” Nick asks.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

As Fury continues to explain the situation and where she’ll be staying, Y/N’s mind goes back to Bucky. God knows where he is. Hopefully somewhere safe, where he can heal. What if he gets hurt? Or he gets shoved in jail and she never sees him again?

“Any questions?” Y/N takes a breath, unsure of how this is going to go. But it’s all she cares about.

“Can I see him?”

Downstairs, Bucky sits in his cell, strapped in as much and as tightly as possible for everyone’s safety. He doesn’t even know how long it’s been since they brought him here, since he saw Steve, Sam…and Y/N. Although he knows that they’re safe now, and he’s going to get what he deserves, he wishes he was back at her grandma’s house with her. Just the two of them. Sure, HYDRA was probably hunting them down, and they likely still are, but at least they were both happy together. He would have fought tooth and nail to protect her. He would fight tooth and nail to protect her.

So why didn’t he stay there, with her?

Why didn’t he fight for her?

Groaning, Bucky tries to readjust himself into a more comfortable position. Although, considering both his hands are shackled, that’s easier said than done. The metal handcuff digs uncomfortably into his skin, and he hisses in pain. Of course, he knew that after what he did, he wouldn’t be allowed to move around freely, or be entitled to any comfort. His time as an assassin is finally catching up to him. 

Right on time, he registers the guard outside murmuring something to his colleague, and then they glance back at his cell. Bucky can only pick up a few words from their conversation, but he can tell what sort of things they’re saying from the way they look at him. Although he can’t say that he’s surprised. Who would be okay with being forced to watch over an assassin 24/7? Even though he escaped HYDRA’s grasp and is slowly starting to remember who he is, there’s no way anyone is going to trust him ever again, or see him as anything but a monster. 

And even though he isn’t surprised by their judgemental looks, it still fucking hurts to be stripped of your identity over and over, tortured and brainwashed just for someone’s sick fantasy. And even after escaping all that pain, he’s forever tainted by something he never wanted to do. Something that wasn’t his fault, while the people who did this to him escaped or were killed before they could be brought to trial. Despite the things he did, Bucky’s a victim too… and yet, he seems to be the only one being punished.

Frustrated, hot tears stinging at his eyes, Bucky closes his eyes, hoping he can at least imagine something better, more comfortable. And then… he remembers the softness of Y/N’s grandma’s couch. After so long running, he could finally sleep, and it was the best damn sleep of his entire life. Until Y/N woke him up, that is. Y/N. Where is she now? Hopefully, she’s safe. Even though he knows and hates how everyone is going to see him as a monster now… all he cares about is what Y/N thinks of him. Although they only met a week ago, somehow, she means more to him than anything in the world. Even thinking about her and her smile makes him feel a little better.

Then, a memory of them both replays in his mind. 

“You want some music?” She asks, sorting through some records and tapes. “My grandma was a huge fan of all different genres, so we have plenty of choices.” She chuckles. Bucky doesn’t reply, transfixed by the sheer number of records in front of him. Some names trigger some recognition in his brain, but nothing too intense. He peers down at the ones in front of them, reading the names aloud.

“The Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, The Beatles….” 

“If you see anything you want to play, just tell me. Your choice.” 

“I’m sorry Y/N… I-I don’t know any of these.” He sighs, disappointed by his inability to choose something.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She reassures him, placing her hand on his forearm reassuringly.

Even now, Bucky remembers how that touch felt. The comfort and the support behind it. He misses that warm touch more than anything.

“I have an idea.” She smiles, picking up a record and putting it on the player. “My grandma loved this one, and I think you’ll like it too.” Soon, the vocals of Ella Fitzgerald begin to play, and recognition dawns on Bucky’s face. 

“W-Wait! I remember her voice.” He furrows his brow, listening closer. “I think I remember this song, too.” Y/N grins. 

He remembers Y/N’s smile too. As bright as the sunshine. And despite how cold and alone he feels right now… that smile still makes him feel as warm and comfortable as he did the first time he saw it. “Say it's only a paper moon, sailing over a cardboard sea.” Bucky sings to himself softly. “But it wouldn't be make believe, if you believed in me.”

And he does have someone to believe in him. Y/N. Even after everything he did, she still treated him with kindness, and saw him as more than he was. He just wishes he saw himself that way, too.

The door to Bucky’s cell opens. Closing his eyes, Bucky braces himself, waiting for whatever’s in store for him. After being under HYDRA’s control for so long, he’s almost expecting the same abuse that he suffered at the hands of his superiors. Yet, when he opens his eyes again, focusing on the figure that just entered the room, his eyes widen.

“Y/N? W-What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh, my god… Bucky.” She gasps, taking in the sight in front of her. And how tightly they have strapped Bucky in. When he sees the look of guilt and shame on her face, Bucky’s heart sinks. Although Y/N believes in him, he hates that she has to see him like this, like some sort of caged animal.

“Y/N. You shouldn’t be here. You need to leave.” He tells her, but she ignores him.

“Why have they strapped you in so tightly? You’re not dangerous, and you’re not going to hurt anyone. Steve and Sam told me it wasn’t your fault.”

“We can’t take that risk. After my past, they want to make sure they know everything about me and what I’m capable of first. And then…” He pauses, as the full weight of the situation dawns once again. “They’ll decide what to do, and how to punish me.”

“Is there going to be a trial?” She asks. “I-I’ll testify. Say that you aren’t dangerous.”

“Y/N-”

“If they had just seen the way you looked at me, or how we laughed-”

“That’s not going to be enough!” He insists, his voice coming out harsher than he intended. Sighing, Bucky clears his throat. “We still don’t know the risks, and the last thing I want is you getting hurt. So, you should go.” 

“It is! It is enough! And I know you’re not dangerous.” She exclaims, tears falling down her cheeks. “I know that because you spared me, despite all your training and the things you’ve done before. For some reason, you didn’t kill me.” She’s right. After all the victims he’s had, Y/N is the only one where he let them go free. And he still doesn’t know why. But despite that, he knows that isn’t going to do much to help his case. One victim spared, compared to the thousands he killed, is purely a drop in the ocean.

“Y/N.” Bucky sighs. “I appreciate the offer, but really… it’s not worth it.” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “It may not have been my choice, but I still did it. And I deserve whatever I’m about to get.”

“You promised me, remember? That we’d be back in my grandma’s house again, listening to music or going through old pictures. Just the two of us.” Bucky’s stomach twists. “I’m not giving up on you.” She tells him, and something deep in Bucky’s stomach flutters. “We may not know why you spared me, but there has to be a reason. And I’m going to find it. Because it proves that you’re not the monster everyone thinks you are.” Stepping closer, she places her palm against the glass. Bucky’s arm twitches, almost as if he was about to place his hand on the opposite side, over hers. “We’ll get through this. I’m not giving up on you.” She repeats, and Bucky can’t keep a smile from growing on his face.

Say it's only a paper moon, sailing over a cardboard sea.

But it wouldn't be make believe, if you believed in me.

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[st0rmyskies]

directors cut on LMTCOY Four s'il vous plaît😭🙏I love him so much

LMTCOY Four is asexual. Whenever I write him in this story is when handfuls of apologetic complaints and the occasional death threat show up in my inbox. It's super fun and makes writing him so rewarding for me. /sarcasm

Anyway, fuck the haters. Four was an ancillary character to the LMTCOY series all up until Twilight and Dark got together, unlocking a whole 'nother half of the cast that I'd never considered before. Four shows up more often now thanks to Shadow's involvement with Dark. Four and Shadow met one another well before the events of HSH, and Shadow knows more about Four than he'd want any of the roommates to know about him. Their relationship hinges on playful antagonism that sometimes doesn't seem so playful. Four has to play fucking 4D chess anytime he wants to get anything from Shadow (e.g. don't give him your real ice pop flavor preference).

Still, there are hints that their relationship toes the line of what would be considered strictly platonic. Although maybe it's all in the others' heads. From the first part of the Igneous Voe chapter:

The blonde behind the ticketing counter [Four] regarded Time from the corner of his eye. He sat cross-legged on one of the rocks, elbows resting on his knees as he slouched forward. A hand-rolled spliff twitched on his lips. He turned away and leaned in, in, in until his cigarette met the lit end of his companion’s, who was a veritable carbon copy of himself. The other young man’s black hair brushed just above his shoulders and was held back with a similar headband.  Four’s eyes slipped closed as the two of them inhaled together. Warm embers grew between them, eating away at tobacco and paper much faster than if they weren’t pressed together. Neither of them touched the other, and still Time felt like he should look away. 

I have a lot of fun being nonspecific about the nature of Four's relationship with Shadow, so don't expect any firm calls in that arena.

Although asexual, Four is not strictly sex-repulsed. He's averse to physical touch in most encounters, which makes intimacy challenging, but he does let down his walls in certain circumstances and only for those he really, deeply trusts. And Shadow, despite ragging on him in so many other ways, respects this, because he has some insight into why. So far it's best shown in the LMTCOY vampire AU, Blood Lust, where Four acts as Shadow's bleeder.

[Four] breathed through the pain, feeling his pulse thrumming in his skull, in the side of his throat, as Shadow’s lips closed against his skin. That was the part that always made him resist the urge to squirm away each time. When the strings of Shadow’s hoodie slid down and tapped Four’s bare shoulder, he flinched. Shadow reached down right away to retrieve the errant cords and tuck them into the neck of his clothes. Other than his lips and teeth, nothing else of Shadow touched him, not even the strands of his hair, not the whisper of breath. Four could feel the weight of him on the bed, and that was enough. 

Four is indirectly involved with Dark, Twilight, and Shadow in a later chapter of LMTCOY in which, as Miniscrew so brilliantly pointed out, Dark outsources dom duty to Shadow because he's just not interested to do it. Four would normally never get roped into Shadow's side gig like this, but it's their friends, and Four is a little worried about Twilight getting in over his head, even if he'd never admit as much aloud. Shadow goes as far as to block Four's view, assuming that Twilight and Dark's 'finale' isn't something Four would be interested in witnessing.

But maybe Shads was wrong in that. There is a follow-up chapter I toy with now and then that gives our favorite mechanic the chance to get a little bit more... involved, we'll say, with their friends.

“I think I want to touch your dick.” It was one of those statements that Four blurted out of nowhere. They happened now and then, usually after hours to days of pensive silence while he turned something over in his mind. Sometimes he waited for an opportune moment to bring up such things. Others, well… On the other side of the couch, Dark choked on his beer mid-swig. He set the bottle back down on the coffee table and turned away from the others, coughing loudly into his elbow. To Four’s left and seated in the armchair, Shadow mumbled an oath under his breath as he set his controller down in his lap and put his head in his hands. He had known something was up—Four had been ‘off’ for days now—but gods above, he didn’t think it was that. Twilight, seated on the center couch cushion, was the only one who thought to pause their game. He turned to look at Four, who was staring directly at him. Twilight’s eyes were bright and questioning and clueless. “I’m sorry, who were you—” “You,” Four answered simply. “Oh.” Twilight blinked. Next to him, Dark slowly sat back on the couch, a sly smile on his face as he looked between the awkward pair. “I think I want to touch your dick,” Four reiterated. Simple, direct, leaving no room for question.  “Oh, sweet Lolia,” Shadow muttered, tossing his controller aside as he stood and retreated toward the kitchen. “No!!” Dark barked, picking up one of his discarded socks from the floor and whipping it in Shadow’s direction. “You get back here!! We’re gonna discuss this together! Like a family!!”

When it gets finished and published depends on how involved I get in the, uh, events that follow. And this in no way erases Four's asexuality. But I think that he deserves to explore sex if he wants to, both in his own time and in his own way, with people that he trusts.