#besides it's not as though I have any emergencies to save for anymore

[ayakashibackstreet]

On the one hand, I have 20 PLN left before I get my scholarship in like, two weeks, so I shouldn't spend money

On the other hand, I want a snacc Right Now

[slytherinshua]

HOLD MY HEART, KEEP IT SAFE

genre. hurt/comfort. mafia au. this is a part 2 to my other jeno fic (your wounds wrapped with my love)!! warnings. death, blood, knives, guns, gas chambers, & jeno almost dying all mentioned. reader going through immense guilt and complicated emotions bcuz of killing someone for the first time, nightmares, crying... i think that's it? pairing. husband!jeno x fem!reader. wc. 1.4k. request. requested by @blue-jisungs unofficially but i took it as an official request bcuz she's my baby all the rest of you are losers. a/n. read part 1 here!! this fic can be read as a standalone, but it's still part of the same universe so i recommend reading pt 1 if you haven't already!!

You woke up heaving in short and painful gasps, tears pricking at your waterline. The nightmares were almost like routine, yet they still felt so real everytime that you could never get used to them. You hadn’t enjoyed a good night’s rest in weeks. You could only fall asleep wrapped tightly in your husband’s arms, and even then you would always wake up from the dreams. 

When you had first met Jeno, you knew that getting yourself involved with someone who worked with crime was a risky choice to take. You knew the dangers, but Jeno was worth it to you. You swore to never mess with the stuff firsthand, though. Jeno insisted that you train enough to defend yourself in an emergency, so you were no stranger to a gun’s mechanisms or the best technique to stab someone in the throat with a knife. But you never touched his guns or daggers unless it was for training, you never went along on missions, and you certainly never took a life with your own hands.

That was, until 2 weeks ago.

It was your first wedding anniversary with Jeno, but, of course, you couldn’t expect that you would be able to have a romantic day like other couples. Jeno’s biggest enemy had baited him with an opportunity that was too important to pass up. But the risk was extreme. You trusted your husband without a doubt, but you knew in your gut that something would go wrong. And you were right.

Jeno had smoothly been able to get in and take out almost all of the henchmen, but he hadn’t anticipated that they would lure him into a locked room with a highly advanced gas system installed. There were no windows, the door was barricaded and too heavy duty to break, and Jeno had no way to stop the gas. 

If you hadn’t trusted your instincts and followed him to the base, you wouldn’t have been able to stop the gas flow and disarm the enemy. Thanks to your training with knives, you were able to take him out before he could harm your husband anymore. If you hadn’t taken that risk, Jeno wouldn’t be alive to this day.

In the moment, your only concern was saving your husband’s life, but the lingering regret and guilt from having a death on your hands was eating you whole. You couldn’t get it out of your head— the power you felt driving the knife straight through the man’s stomach, the horror that followed once you heard his blood curdling screams, and then the deafening silence. You had no idea how Jeno did it for a living. 

You heard your husband stir beside you, probably sensing your distress or the slight noise of the sheets shuffling. He trained himself to be an incredibly light sleeper for his own safety. He would wake up to the sound of a pin dropping when he knew there was an active threat.

He knew that there was no threat right now. You had made sure of that 2 weeks ago. But Jeno still sat up, letting his tired eyes fall to your figure, his heart clenching in his chest at the sight. He knew exactly how you felt. He had experienced the same thing when he was still training under Johnny and Ten. The knowledge that someone had died at your hands was unlike any other. No matter how justified the death was, it still felt the same.

He reached out his hand, gently tracing a line on the top of your hand before he threaded his fingers with yours and squeezed. Slow rubs of his thumb over your knuckles was a small amount of comfort for how much you were feeling, but Jeno knew it was all that was needed to calm you down. Any conversation immediately about the nightmare would only lead to more tears. Once Jeno heard that your breathing had evened, he spoke up.

“I wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t killed him. I know it was hard.” He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, his lips soothing your hot skin. 

“Can you wash them again?” You asked, referencing your hands that Jeno still held. 

It had become obsessive ever since that day. The image of your hands soaked in blood never left your mind. You had already washed away any remnants of the red stains 2 weeks ago, but in your brain, they were still there. The constant scrubbing had caused damage to your skin. Jeno took over washing them for you, knowing that he would be gentler on your skin than you would in your current state. He was patient with you, obliging in anything that you asked for in hopes that it would help you feel better.

He led you to the sink of the bathroom and turned on the tap, finding the right temperature before he let your hands fall under the stream of water. He had bought soap that was extra gentle on the skin just for you. Squirting some into his palm, he massaged it into your hands as gently as possible. He was thorough yet soft with how he washed you, handling your hands as if they were the most precious thing. They were what had saved his life, after all.

He guided you back to bed, gathering the covers over your figure and sliding under them himself. He tucked himself next to you so that his head was mere inches from yours, lying on pillows side by side, you resting safely in his arms. You wanted to thank him a million times as your eyes wandered over his face gazing back at you with so much love. He had so much to worry about already just from the nature of his job. You hated to add to his burden in any way.

Truly, if it had been anyone else, Jeno would not have been able to be so patient and caring. His fellow assassins were well able to handle a few deaths. They were prepared for what a mission would look like and had time to separate whatever happened on the job from their everyday life. You weren’t prepared for that, and unable to make that switch in your brain. Everything that had happened that night lingered in your mind whether you wanted to think about it or not.

“I still feel sorry for ruining our anniversary night. I wanted to take you out on a nice date, show you how much I love you. When you feel better I’ll make it up to you, yeah? I’ll plan something 10 times as nice as I originally had in mind. Just for you.” He whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear, admiring your beauty. 

“The ruined anniversary is the last thing on my mind. You almost died, Jeno.” Tears welled in your eyes as you said it out loud. By the time you had killed the man and unlocked the door to the gas chamber, Jeno could barely stand on his own. Although you had stopped the gas flow beforehand, he had inhaled enough that it was hindering his breathing. Had you taken much longer, he would have already been dead by the time you got to him.

“I’ve almost died a million times. It’s not like it’s new.” He muttered.

“I haven’t seen you almost die before. Don’t say that it doesn’t matter. How am I supposed to live if you die?” You were crying again at this point. 

Jeno sighed. He wanted you to see it from his perspective, but it wasn’t worth a fight. Especially not right now. You were already distressed.

“I know, darling. I’m sorry.” He pulled you closer, head resting against his chest so you could hear his heartbeat. He was alive. That was all that mattered to you.

“Go back to sleep, Y/n. I’m right here.” He whispered, stroking your back to lull you into dreamland. 

Being in his arms felt warm and comforting. Others would say that he was a cold man, too dangerous to even approach. It was true that his job was uncertain and risky, illegal at many points, and only succeeded, in some cases, at the cost of others' lives. But his heart was warm. For you, he would risk everything. 

Despite what anyone else said, you knew that Jeno was a good man. He was not the first person to capture your heart, but he was the only one who you trusted enough to keep it safe. He could carry it with him wherever he went and bring it back to you unscathed. He would never need to give it back to you, though, nor did you ever want him to. You wanted him to keep it until the end of time, safe in his possession, and you, safe in his arms.

↳ nct dream taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @lovesuhng,,

@planetkiimchi,, @ujisworld,, @heavenfilm,, @sobun1est,, @emmylksblog,,

@bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @talking-saxy,,

@cupidslovearrows

[sunny-mercya]

Hey, Brother do you still believe in one another?

11. Osaka Trip - Abducted

Heiji Hattori x Male Reader | Plantonic! Shinichi Kudo x Brother Reader

Fandom -> Detective Conan/Case Closed

Masterlist | Previous / Next |

If I could turn back time

If I could find a way

And you'd stay

Sachiko shirked loudly—gaining looks of confusion and judgment from the by passing people in the shopping district—dropping her shopping bags to the ground in shock and gasping like a fish, even though they don't need to, for air.

Droving with both hands through her hair, clutching it, Sachiko turned her head in every direction—spinning herself around—and tried to find something, someone—searching for you.

But you are nowhere to be seen, because you're gone. Gone. You're gone.

For Sachiko it felt as time stood still—freezing her in the spot where she was standing—while the surroundings of hers continued to move on as if nothing had happened—as if the crime, which just occurred in front of everyone, didn't caused a notice and disturbance in the daily routine of living flow.

Taking a sharp inhale of breath, Sachiko felt breathless. She only had turned around—some sign had catches her eyes and you were still right beside her—for a mere few seconds and when she turned back, to tell you about that sign—which was local shop—you weren't there.

Is this—the way her chest tightens, so painfully she wanted to cry out, coldness—despite the mildly warm temperatures today—sweeping through her body and bringing her bend into a shudder—how a Panic attack feels like?

Sachiko couldn't tell, wouldn't know, as she never had experienced such and only being a comforter for you—when you had them.

Taking out her phone, cursing loudly when it slipped from her—shaking and clammy—hands and fall down onto the pavement, Sachiko felt—once she had picked up her phone again—lost to whom she has to call.

Sachiko's finger hovered over Shinichi's—old and deactivated—number, wanting to call him—the first person which popped up in her mind instantly—as Shinichi is (or had been) after all your emergency contact.

But that's an impossible thing to do now as Shinichi is gone as well.

Sachiko slapped herself against her forehead more than once, rubbing her face—staying crouched down and inhaling deeply the air, she still felt she didn't quite have, again.

Stupid, stupid, absolutely stupid, Sachiko thought—berating herself for forgetting about the fact that Shinichi is gone, but wanting to call him anyways.

Like, as if the automatic voicemail of; We apologise, but this number is currently not available anymore—would help in such, any, situation and neither would make it Shinichi magically appear back.

»Dumb wishful thinking« she scoffed in a huff, feeling ashamed afterwards for such thoughts and berates herself again, because such wishful thoughts are helping you to pull through hard days—the ones where you want to just lay in bed forever and giving everything and yourself up.

So Sachiko called Heiji, despite him being at a crime scene currently—because honestly, it's like a curse or something, whenever they went somewhere there always seemed to be a murdering happen—but she couldn't care less about this, as the Inspectors and officers are capable enough to solve this on their own, without Heiji's help.

Finding and freeing you—because Sachiko was absolutely sure that Daiki had kidnapped you—and it was a fear she knew would come true eventually—was top priority now and Sachiko knew that Heiji was the only person who would be able to save you.

~~~

There weren't many moments in times, where Conan thought he had failed. Nor had he many regrets to think about.

But when Heiji told how Sachiko had called and telling him in upcoming panic—sounding close to crying, holding back choking sobs—you're gone, disappeared so suddenly in board daylight—under eyes of many "witnesses"—and that she, in absolutely certainty, believes Daiki had taken you—Conan felt like a failure.

Failure. Conan had failed miserably as your older brother, who promised you—once ago, during your first suicidal attempt—to never leave you alone and behind in your darkest times of need—and to always protect you from the dangers and evil of this world.

But look! Here is he, failing not only once but twice—trice even, when he couldn't save Narumi—and breaking promises after another, building a path of hurtful lies for you to walk on. Honestly, you deserve someone far better than him as your brother.

It was foolish to think, that they might be able to call you, but even the simplest thing to do—in cases like these, calling you even though the chance stood high that your phone had been already destroyed—could might lead to an better outcome of the situation.

When it ringed and someone picked up the line, they hoped it was you—but when Daiki's voice rung out, the hope extinguished.

„Oh, it's the brat calling. C'mon dear, tell them Goodbye.“

„Fuck off, Asshole.“

A clash, a thud and a short gaps from you—and the line went dead afterwards.

»What now? Osaka is big and we can't search through the whole city and its landscape, without a sort of fixpoint to begin with.....« said Heiji, gnawing at his lower lip and looking at Conan.

The bubble of panic didn't came spiking up in one sudden rush—like how Sachiko must had experienced it firsthand now—and neither did it came slow rising—how for Conan it was, whose eyes shone with ridden guilt and although masking it professionally like a actor, starting to crack under its slowing crawling pressure—for Heiji.

Of course Heiji is worried about you, he always will be—after all you're his boyfriend and worrying about ones partner and the ones you love is a natural feeling to do—but Heiji is also a Detective and haywire emotions wouldn't help in any situation nor does it any good.

Conan knows this as well—is the one who believes, participate, the most in this sort of mindset—but sometimes a once rational, logical, mind and heart can make a spin into the irrational side of the humane

There was also the crucial fact—which is the reason why Heiji doesn't feel the heart aching panic just yet—that everyone seemed to forget that you weren't just a mere helpless person.

You could defend yourself with ease, were cable of fighting—with your strength of Qing Mado—against Adults and opponents twice your age and size.

But Heiji himself seems to forget—while knowing of the information above—that there a tools out there which could make you helpless and unable to defend.

»My Radar Glasses!« exclaimed Conan

»Huh? When did ya chip [Name]?«

»Not him, but his phone-keychain«

Conan was getting restless he's aware, knowing well that his idea might be just a glimpse into the blue of nothing, but what else are they supposed to do?

They had to give it a try, even when it would lead into a dead end. Just sitting around and waiting wouldn't do anything, wasn't going to help you!

Conan couldn't give up, especially not on you—his precious little brother, who he vowed to protect.

~~~

Whatever was on their side—be it luck, fate or destiny, fortunas generosity or simply Daiki's own dumbness���they hoped it's gonna last till you are found.

When the glasses did indeed pick up a low signal of yours, Conan and Heiji went to the location as fast as possible.

Once there, in an alley—near the outskirts area, with soon to build houses and buildings and the ones getting destroyed—all they had found was your phone—still in tact, but useless now. Then again, this alone could lead to you—as it minimise the area, distance and possibility of where you could be.

Conan wouldn't give up and he hoped neither would you.

I'll keep finding, finding you

Right through hell and heaven

And in all dimensions

I'll keep finding, finding you

[pocketramblr]

Super late, but 5 hc ask game where Giran gets a kid showing up at his doorstep who says his name is Izuku and his mother recently died and he was given instructions by her to seek him out if anything happened to her. Giran recognizes his mother's name and remembers he had a relationship with her years ago. Upon further investigating he realizes this is his son.

1- It's not super unusual for teenagers to knock on Giran's door. Usually they're delivery boys or messengers, but sometimes they're customers in their own right or looking for recruitment. This kid, however, clearly has no idea who he is: "Um, hi, sorry to intrude, my- my mom told me that if anything happened to her, I should find you. I'm- her name's Midoriya Inko, I'm Izuku." (Giran initially wondered if he's the son of someone he placed who got in trouble there, but then he hears Inko's name, and she wasn't a customer. He waves the kid in and asks what happened.)

2- Izuku's been at a group home the last couple of weeks but slipped away after school today instead of going back. Giran listens, and asks what he wants- he could fake records, get Izuku sent somewhere better, or set up with a new relative, or his own place. Izuku doesn't have any other relatives on his mom's side and never knew his dad, so Giran eventually gets an apartment in "Midoriya Hisashi's" name and has Izuku moved out from the home. The place is really just for him, because he wanted to stay at the same middle school (he's only 13, and he's never had to move schools before). Then, Giran starts poking around to confirm the relationship before offering anything more.

3- But Izuku is lonely, and grieving, and quite depressed. On his fourteenth birthday, Giran comes to visit- a first since getting him moved in, and while they've got each other phone numbers they don't talk much. Giran admits to being his father, which Izuku had almost hoped for before he answered the door. Giran never wanted kids, but he has to admit Izuku's almost not a kid anymore, and since Inko did all the hard parts he isn't going to disrespect her work and throw the teen away. So, he asks Izuku what he wants, and Izuku admits he wants to be a hero, even though he's quirkless, even though he couldn't do anything to save his mom. Giran nods, then says "Ok. I'm sending you to your Uncle Oguro's for the rest of summer break."

4- "My What" Izuku asks, but Giran tells him that he helped save the man's daughter once, so he owes him, and besides, seems like he wouldn't mind Izuku anyway with the company he keeps. "And, your uncle is also quirkless. Tell him you want to be a hero anyway. C'mon, go get packed up while I call him."

It seems to be a very loud conversation from the other end, but all Izuku can hear is his father's easy, calm voice the whole time, still talking like the whole thing is a joke all while being completely serious. Izuku begins to wonder how the hell his parents met.

5- "C'mon, ask." Giran says on the train. Izuku does, nervously, and Giran tells him he won't find out things if he doesn't look and ask, and he should, he's got a good curiosity and a sharp mind. "That'll help at Oguro's. Oh, and if there's an emergency, call me right away, kay?" He's not particularly concerned with Izuku figuring out about the quirkless man being a former hero with a quirk, or learning about AfO that way - Oguro will make it clear Izuku isn't to look for the man or listen to any offers.

[serickswrites]

Make Me Your Villain XVII

Master list here (includes links to chapters, summary, bios)

Warnings: fire, left for dead, burns, attempted murder, power suppression, implied murder

Liam snuck into the warehouse quickly and quietly. This was his one chance. Jude was alone, no apprentice in sight. He was alone and seemed unprepared for a fight. Surprise was on Liam’s side. Liam’s strength was on his side. Liam could defeat Jude. And then he would be free. Nova and Henry would be free. And safe.

He quickly cloaked himself with his shadows, though they moved sluggishly. Perhaps he had been burning the candle at both ends for too long. He needed a break. Nova was always nagging him to rest. So was Henry.

But he couldn’t rest as long as Jude was prowling the earth. Couldn’t rest as long as Jude sucked the souls of innocents. Even if those innocents tried to hurt him, tried to kill him. They didn’t know any better. How could they when Jude had everyone fooled?

As his shadows began to fade and drip away, Liam realized something was wrong. He called on them, pulled on them desperately, but they merely lazed along. What was wrong? He tried to slip into the in between, but found it was blocked.

Liam realized he made a mistake going after Jude. He realized it very quickly. But he couldn’t find a way to extract himself.

“You are just so predictable,” Jude said as he stalked down the hall towards Liam. “You couldn’t resist me being alone.”

Liam couldn’t teleport out. Somehow Jude had frozen his ability to do so. His shadows barely responded to his commands. “What did you do to your apprentices?” This was the first time in a long time Jude had more than one apprentice at a time. Liam knew one of them how the ability to suppress other powers and he was experiencing their raw power. The other, Liam wasn’t entirely sure what they did, only that Jude guarded their powers.

Jude chuckled darkly. “Oh, they’re still with me in one form or another.”

Liam tried not to let the knowledge that Jude had sucked another soul stop him. Which one had he killed? Had he taken both of them? He had to find a way to corner Jude. If he could just corner Jude, he could hurt him. And win. “Does killing them affect you anymore?” He ran out from his hiding spot. He just needed to lure Jude out into the place of his choosing.

“Why would it bother me? And only one of them is within me now. The other set this trap for you and then left town. Something about a family emergency. Don’t worry, they’ll be back soon and then perhaps they will live within me. And besides I’m not killing them, I’m changing them into something better. They should be honored. They’re now a part of the strongest and greatest superhero in history.”

“Hero? You call yourself a hero? Heroes don’t sacrifice others. Heroes don’t murder innocents. Heroes protect. You do nothing of the sort.”

“Oh, but heroes write history, Liam. And I am the one who will be writing our history, have no doubt about it. History won’t know how hard you tried to save them. How hard you tried to stop me. They’ll just know you are the villain. And I will emerge triumphant. Because the hero always wins.”

“Just keep telling yourself that,” Liam said as he sprinted towards Jude. While his shadows weren’t responsive, he could still take Jude hand to hand. Especially now that Jude was older and softer. Liam had been stronger physically for a lot longer.

Jude smirked as he turned and faced Liam. His grey hair reflecting the flames in his hands. “You are just too predictable, Liam. That was always going to be your downfall. Don’t worry,” he said as he released the flames around him, “I won’t take your powers. No, I will enjoy watching you burn to a crisp.”

Liam froze as the building went up in flames. No. No. NO. This could not be happening. Not again. He had to get out of there. It didn’t matter that this was an opportunity to take out Jude. Clearly it was a trap. There would be other opportunities. He just had to get out.

The ceiling above him creaked and cracked. Liam looked up and ducked away just as a beam fell. The beam caught his arm, searing the flesh. Liam suppressed a scream as his flesh burnt. He had to get out of there.

Smoke obscured his vision. He dropped to his knees as he looked for an opening. The air was becoming too thick with smoke to breathe. He had to get out of there. Quickly. And get home before Jude made his way to the Haven to hurt Nova and Henry.

Nova.

She wouldn’t cope well with hearing that Liam had gone after Jude alone. He could just imagine her yelling at how it was so clearly a trap. When he made it back to the Haven, he would gladly let her yell at him for being so stupid. He would gladly let her do whatever she wanted because she would be safe. That was all that mattered.

Just as Liam was certain he had missed the exit once again, the smoke gave way to a door. “Thank goodness,” Liam coughed as he pushed the door open and breathed deeply. Air. Fresh, delicious air.

He could hear the wail of sirens as fire crews approached. He had to get out of there. If they arrived when he was there, they would no doubt try and have him arrested for his alleged crimes. Including this arson if Jude had any say.

Liam could see his shadows rising out of the corner of his eyes. The apprentice’s powers were fading. Liam sighed as he slipped into the in between. He was safe. He made it. Jude had been wrong. Jude had underestimated him. And he was going home.

Tags: @dutifullykrispyland@jesssmolfur@parad0xical2@st0rmm@keeper-of-all-the-random-things

@pigeonwhumps@gala1981@allylovessweets@whumpitywhumpwhump

[gigi-the-writer]

Hold on…

Dr Flug x Reader

Notes: suicidal ideation, self harm, suicide attempt, angst/comfort.

Word count: over 1,500

Flug felt the cold night air biting through his lab coat as he glanced nervously at the clock on the wall. It was well past midnight, and the moon cast an eerie light across the empty streets of the city. The Black Hat Organization’s headquarters was eerily quiet, save for the occasional hum of the machinery and the muffled sounds of distant villains plotting their schemes. For once, Dr. Flug wasn’t occupied with his usual tasks or inventions; instead, he was focused on the person sitting beside him, staring blankly at the darkness outside the window.

The anguish he saw in their eyes was almost more painful than any failure he had ever encountered in his career. His hands trembled slightly as he tried to offer comfort, but the weight of the situation made it difficult for him to find the right words.

"Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?" he asked softly, though he already knew the answer. They had been like this for days—withdrawn and distant, burdened by a heaviness that neither he nor their closest friends could understand. Flug had hoped that their silence was a temporary phase, but now, after seeing the blood-stained letter on the floor, seeing them lying down, a bloodied razor in their limp hand, he realized the situation was far more serious than he had imagined.

His heart raced as he recalled the words from the letter: “I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of the pain, the emptiness. Goodbye.” It was as if those words had reached out and gripped him with icy fingers, paralyzing him with a blend of fear and helplessness.

His hands clenched into fists as he tried to steady his breathing. “We need to get you to the hospital,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

Flug took a deep breath, trying to quell the storm of emotions inside him. “You’re going to be okay—“

He reached out and gently took their hand, his own shaking slightly as he did so. “Please,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “Please, PLEASE be okay..”

Dr. Flug’s heart ached as he picked them up and carried them to the door, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts and worries.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, filled only by the hum of the car’s engine and the occasional crackle of the radio. Dr. Flug kept glancing over at them, feeling their pulse every now and then, hoping, praying, that they would be alright. There was a stark contrast to the confident facade he usually wore while dealing with Black Hat’s schemes.

When they arrived at the hospital, Dr. Flug took a deep breath before opening the door. The sterile, brightly lit environment of the emergency room felt almost alien compared to the darkness of BlackHat’s manor. A nurse at the front desk looked up as they approached, her expression shifting to one of concern as she took in the situation.

“Hello,” Dr. Flug said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions within him. “My partner needs help. They… they tried to kill themselves.”

The nurse’s eyes widened slightly, and she quickly motioned for them to follow her to a small examination room. Dr. Flug stayed close by their side, his heart pounding as he glanced around the room, taking in the stark white walls and the various medical instruments that seemed to symbolize the distance between them and the safety they sought.

The nurse asked a series of questions, her voice calm and professional as she gathered the necessary information. Dr. Flug tried to answer as best as he could, though he felt a pang of guilt for not recognizing the signs of their distress sooner.

As the nurse went to fetch a doctor, Dr. Flug sat down beside their partner, squeezing their hand gently. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I should have been more aware of what you were going through.”

No response, only the sound of the monitor beeping very slowly along with your heart.

Dr. Flug felt a lump form in his throat. “No one should have to handle this alone. We’re in this together.”

A few minutes later, a doctor entered the room, a kind and experienced woman with a gentle demeanor. She introduced herself and began to ask more detailed questions about what had happened. He stayed by their side, offering support and answering questions as best as he could.

The doctor listened carefully, her expression serious but compassionate. After a thorough examination, she assured them that they would receive the care they needed and that they were in a safe environment now.

“Let’s start by assessing their immediate needs and then we can discuss a treatment plan,” the doctor said. “It’s important that we address both the physical and emotional aspects of this situation.”

As the doctor took them for further evaluation, Dr. Flug was left alone in the waiting area. He sat in a chair, his fingers clutching the edge as he stared at the floor, feeling a profound sense of helplessness. He couldn’t shake the images from the letter, the words that had cut through him like a blade. He had always been able to face the most daunting challenges at Black Hat’s side, but this—this was different. This was personal.

As the hours ticked by, Dr. Flug tried to stay calm and positive, despite the gnawing worry in his chest. He paced the waiting room, his mind racing with a million thoughts and fears. What if things didn’t get better? What if they couldn’t find a way out of this darkness?

Just as the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, the doctor returned to the waiting area. Dr. Flug stood up quickly, his eyes searching the doctor’s face for any sign of news.

“They’re stable,” the doctor said, her voice soothing. “We’ve begun the necessary treatments, and they’re responding well so far. We’ll need to keep them here for a while, but we’re hopeful that they’ll start to feel better with time and the right care.”

Dr. Flug let out a shaky breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. “Thank you,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “Is there anything I can do right now?”

The doctor nodded. “You can spend some time with them if you’d like. It’s important for them to have support from loved ones during this time.”

Dr. Flug followed the doctor back to the room where his partner was resting. They looked pale but peaceful, the tension in their body having eased somewhat with the treatment. Dr. Flug sat by their bedside, taking their hand in his once more.

“I’m here,” he said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

As he watched them sleep, he couldn’t help but reflect on the journey that had led them to this point. The shadows of despair that had loomed over them were more than just a personal struggle; they were a reminder of the fragility of life and the importance of reaching out for help.

Dr. Flug vowed to be there for them, to support them through the darkness and to help them find the light again. He knew that the road to recovery would be long and difficult, but he was prepared to face it alongside them, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

In that quiet hospital room, as the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the window, Dr. Flug felt a glimmer of hope. It was a fragile hope, but it was there, and for now, that was enough.

He squeezed their hand gently, his heart filled with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered. “Together.”

As the days turned into weeks, the road to recovery was far from easy. There were moments of hope and moments of despair, but through it all, Dr. Flug remained steadfast. He was there for every therapy session, every check-up, and every step towards healing.

He learned to listen more, to understand the signs of distress, and to be a constant source of support for the person he loved. He became their advocate, their cheerleader, and their unwavering companion through the darkest times.

It wasn’t always easy, but with each passing day, there was progress. Their smiles began to return, their laughter slowly came back, and they started to find small joys in life again. It was a slow and arduous process, but Dr. Flug remained by their side, offering love and support through every twist and turn of their journey.

As time went on, the darkness that had once seemed all-consuming began to recede, replaced by the hope of a brighter future. Dr. Flug knew that the struggle was far from over, but he was ready to face it, together with the person he loved. In the end, it was that shared strength and unwavering support that would light the way forward.

And in that hospital room, amidst the quiet moments of recovery, Dr. Flug found a new resolve.

[dimdiamond]

Chang is such a fascinating character because he has all these unexplored material by the canon and yet canon gives us a few scenes of him that leave such a strong impression.

He is Tintin's best friend and his first actual friend as, until Blue Lotus, Tintin didn't have anyone besides Milou and Thompsons were more or less the comedic duo that chased him to arrest him for one reason or another. Chang appears as equal to Tintin, same small size (at least in the comic), same wit and same bravery. He is here obviously to support Tintin but he is still in the back as he is treated as younger and less experienced, not meaning that Tintin disrespects him in any way, the opposite Tintin relies on him after they gain each other's trust. Chang protects Tintin and worries for him and refuses to leave him alone, to the point of himself being reckless and even more risky.

This trope would seem very familiar to what we have watched in adventure movies like the Indiana Jones movies or even other adventure books, where the traveler meets the native (young) guy that navigates him and helps him in his country after being saved by said foreigner, if Tintin and Chang weren't that equal and what connected them was only that "I owe you my life". Tintin and Chang connected because they were alone and found to each other someone who understands. Tintin found someone who can keep up with him and care for him and Chang found someone who noticed him and in the end gave him a purpose. Remember that Tintin, although alone, had a purpose and something to fill his life with, and what is more appealing than adventure? Chang, who had no family and no purpose, was charmed by Tintin and his way of life. And since meeting him he wants to be part of this.

In my eyes, Tintin and Chang immediate liking each other and becoming friends, isn't just because of kindness, it's also because of need and selfishness. And I don't mean that they're bad people who took advantage of each other. I mean that they were two lonely boys and the moment they saw how well they go together they also saw their chance to fill the void in their hearts. However that didn't mean it would last, as it was an emergency solution.

We can see that in the way Blue Lotus ended, Tintin left back to Belgium and Chang found a new family in the Wangs. Their bond is strong and they mean a lot to each other but they know that they can't stay like this forever. What Chang needed was a family and that was how he was saved from a lonely life, with purpose or not. I think Tintin sees or understands that in a subconscious way and leaves back his first friend, even though he will miss him, because he knows that he doesn't want Chang to end up like him. Does Chang know that though? Does Chang understands that and if he does, does he accept it or ignores it in favor of dreaming a life where he would share adventures with Tintin, a life that it is very unlikely to ever happen?

Till Chang and Tintin meet again, Tintin has already found a family, seemingly being in balance with a family and a purpose in his life. After Tibet though, Tintin is in doubt about his purpose. What is even his purpose? Endanger himself and his closed ones? Catch bad guys? Save people? To do that he needs to be alone but he isn't and can't be alone anymore. He has a life and people he treasures and he doesn't want to risk them for any pointless reason. He wants his adventures to count and have a meaning, otherwise why even do them? At this point, Chang had already his family for quiet some time but he is in search of his own purpose. So although they reunite, they can't synchronize, Chang is about to start his own adventures while Tintin reconsiders his lifestyle.

Their friendship is so tragic and real because, despite their hardships of reconnecting, their bond is strong and no matter how far they are and how long it has been since they last met, their feelings are strong and genuine, they will always love and care for each other. Timing was on their side only in moments of crisis, for the rest of their lives, they move on away from each other. It's like they say to fate itself to fuck off, no matter how much it wants to separate them, they will still be each other's best friend in the way only your first real friend can be.

I know I'm blabbering about Chang's friendship with Tintin but it's just so crucial to his character that you can't understand him otherwise. For Chang, Tintin is his hero, his savior, his idol, his first and best friend. He hangs on the image he has for him after years of not seeing him and it is what follows him wherever he goes, whoever he meets. He has no idea of how much Tintin has changed. He has no realization of how much he has changed himself. When he is kept in a cave by Yeti, Tintin, his savior and hero, is the only one that can give him hope and this image of him is still in his head. I can only imagine that after being rescued and spending some time with the Tintin now, he must have felt like meeting someone new and yet familiar. He must have realized that reality is different from what he had thought and now he doesn't have to rely on an image from the past. Chang can discover himself and get his own purpose in his life without meaning that he has to delete Tintin from his life, although he is far from him and the possibility of walking in the same path is even lower now.

Chang has his second chance for a family with the Wangs and no way he would let it go to waste. He wouldn't let his life go to waste though so he travels, finds his own adventures. He wants to learn more of this world, young and hopeful as he is. Despite his hardships, he is extremely kind and thoughtful but not naive or innocent. I see Chang as a romantic soul that had to mature very early and, despite what life showed to him, he insists on keeping his beliefs and values and ideals.

[kramaku]

Theory time, with bkdk content and mha spoilers.

I'm 99% sure the "you only have 5 minutes to kill SFO or the world is doomed." is not only there to make us think this quirk is insanely powerful, but to foreshadow Izuku's death. Lemme explain.

The 2nd clearly told him his quirk got a lot more powerful after being transferred with OFA so many times to the point where they don't know the extent of its current backlash. Which is why Izuku didn't use it against Nagant, or why the 2nd was against using it when Izuku was on his way flying above the ocean a few chapters ago. I think Izuku took into consideration that the backlash could be deadly, which is why he saved it for SFO, and which is why I think he's really going to die. The final battle can't end so fast, so SFO will definitely find a way to counter it, and can't end without SFO using all of his quirks (or it would be disappointed as hell).

(... imagine if izuku holds Kacchan's hand but realizes it's cold so he cries on his last breath and their dead bodies just lay there like dead lovers under the rain- okay I stop)

Izuku's death could also make a crazy good cliffhanger and a nice switch to Ochaco and Toga's fight... ( they're gonna talk about their love for Izuku while he's dead... the dark side of mha I smell) I'm personally expecting Ochaco to declare she doesn't chase after Izuku anymore because (even though her feelings will take time to go away) she deserves more than a man who isn't interested in her. "Besides... he already has someone he loves more than anyone else in the world." And back to the UA platform, Kacchan wakes up... everybody talked about and was excited for zuku's reaction to Kacchan's dead body but.. what about Kacchan's reaction to Izuku's dead body...? Kacchan could have his "I'm worried sick for Izuku once again to the point I'm gonna cry" daily crisis we all love to see and he could yell at Aizawa to go for their last card, the plan they made out before the last war in case of an Emergency... Emergency being Izuku's death since then all know he's the only one in the world who can kill SFO. That back up plan being Eri. I know a lot of people are gonna hate on it if it happens (and I would too in any other situation but here it fits well.) Eri would finally use her overpowered quirk in a life or death situation -ever since the overhaul arc- (because not using her quirk in a war that decides the future of the entire world, that, would bad writing to me) and it would be to save Izuku, the hero that saved her. For those who would hate it saying Horikoshi is just using Eri as a cheating card to make up a "bad writing", that he's taking the easy way would be wrong by how many sacrifices would be made. Bringing Eri on the battlefied is a big no, so it's Bringing Izuku to Eri... so Monoma has to stop using Erasure and use Kurogiri's wrap gate and allow SFO to reduce all of the UA platform to dust... maybe Eri will even rewind Kacchan too in the process. It would make sense because the last time Eri used her quirk was for Mirio, before the 1st war, so 1 month ago in mha. Her horn had the time to grow big... yet in a time of crisis like this, she didn't even rewinded Aizawa, or Mirko, or any powerful hero that was gravely injured. The only explanation is that she's saving it for someone. Izuku told everyone about all of his quirks after he came back to UA so they probably decided then to keep Eri's power to rewind Izuku in case of death or severe injury since he's their last hope. It wouldn't be bad writing. It would just make sense.

During that time, SFO would escape and go to free Gigantomachia himself, Kacchan and Izuku would go after him and have their so long waited and fated encounter with the sludge villain, before they would fight together to save Tenko and kill SFO, all quirks all out, a final bloody battle.

So yeah, the "you only have 5 minutes to kill SFO or the world is doomed" could have been said because Izuku can only be revived once. Eri will have used up all the power from her horn after that so there won't be a second chance.

It's all just my head theorizing but that's how I see things going rn

[wonderfulmangotea]

Long vent/ word vomit incoming

(Not that i expect this to get any notes I'm just venting/writing out my thoughts)

So the results for the lump that they removed from my breast is that it was cancerous so I was diagnosed with breast cancer on Thursday.

This understandably has been very upsetting and scary to me. And I keep going from scared and crying, to angry, to trying really hard not to think about it, or just trying to make Wyatt as a situation and make a couple jokes (ie: my eyebrows are really light and hard to see so people mistake it for me shaving off my eyebrows and so I made the joke that hey now my eyebrows match my condition) and just like....more darker humor too.

And I also have a pretty bad shopping addiction used to I could manage it and pay the bills and everything else before I bought anything for myself but for the past year or two sometimes I would have to wait till the next check because I overspent on things that weren't really necessary. I know this stems from having the motto when I was depressed of getting my serotonin where I could get it and it could be most easily gotten from shopping. And though I'm taking medicine and no longer have depressive thoughts as much I still use that unhealthy coping mechanism of buying things to kind of perk me up when I'm feeling a little down.

Recently my boyfriend has kind of been cracking down on me for buying so much unnecessary stuff, saying that I need to save money in case of emergencies and especially now that I'm about to have a ton of doctor's visits another surgery possibly chemo or radiation if it comes to that.

And he makes a valid point and I know I need to slow down on spending but it's really hard. I figured a nice work around would be that I save up for something nice instead of buying a bunch of little trinkets that add up, for example there's a really nice dress that costs $125 and it's in my favorite color but it's only there for a limited time, so I figured instead of buying a bunch of random stuff from like the thrift store or whatever I would save my money to buy this dress. When I told him about it he flat out said no I don't need to be spending money period.

Now I don't know about you but in drug addicts or any kind of addict really it's really hard to quit cold turkey, so I figured this would be a kind of slow buildup to not spending money like crazy.

So it kind of upset me and kind of made me mad because on one hand it's my money that I worked for I should be able to spend it however I want to, but on the other hand I know it's a bad habit and also he's the person that I want to be with for the rest of my life and is just looking out for my well-being. ( his thing is that he always goes out to eat instead of cooking at home which can become very expensive and unhealthy) this is also kind of made me a little bit more sneaky about buying things I'll try to hide stuff or get to the package before he does and I know that that isn't a good way to go about things.

Lately I've been trying to find more clothes that fit my style because I gained a lot of weight and most of my clothes don't fit anymore so my confidence has also been pretty much in an all-time low.

I also really need to go through my things because not going to lie to the house has become a little bit crowded from all the stuff I've bought I'm a little afraid that I'll become a hoarder.

I probably need to go see a therapist but any good ones are like an hour drive away because I really don't want to use any from the mental health place we have here I've worked in the field and I know how fucked up some of the psychiatrists can be about treating their clients. In fact the first psychiatrist I tried to see years and years ago was so condescending and so arrogant he walked up to his standing computer typed in a bunch of stuff looked down at me sitting in the chair and said all the things in my head are my own fault and honestly I don't remember if he really said anything else besides that because all I remember next is being in the nurse's office bawling my eyes out about what an asshole he was and telling them never to set me up with that psychiatrist again. I went back and saw a different psychiatrist for 2 years and the most she helped me with was somewhat depression, they never told me that they couldn't prescribe ADHD medication and I kept begging to be put on ADHD medication because it was really negatively affecting my life and she would always change the subject or brush me off until one day she put me on this third rate drug called Strattera that made me sick as a dog I lost 20 lb in like a week or two, and it took me going to the Urgent Care to try and get something for the nausea for the doctor there to just be like why don't I just put you on Adderall that doctor did more for me in 5 seconds then my psychiatrist did for me in 2 years. I also had tried to change psychiatrists and the people at the desk told me it would be medically negligent for them to let me change psychiatrist because she had been my psychiatrist for so long and knew me best. This bitch did not even consider diagnosing me with bipolar which one I asked my current doctor Who is not a psychiatrist but deals with a lot of psychiatric patients, said that I checked off pretty much every box there was for bipolar but because he wasn't a psychiatrist he couldn't actually diagnose me or prescribe me bipolar medicine all he could do was prescribe mood stabilizers, which helped so much. But I still need to talk to a psychiatrist because I want to bipolar diagnosis not to change my medication but just to have the diagnosis and know that I'm not making it up in my head even though my doctor said pretty much that I checked off every box. But my best bet is probably going to be a private practice which probably will not be covered by my insurance.

TLDR; I was diagnosed with breast cancer so I've been dealing with that, I have a pretty bad shopping addiction and I'm dealing with that, my local Mental Health places suck and I have bad experiences with them etc.

[cloudbattrolls]

35. Insomnia + Ullane

Ullane looked at her hand. True to Friday's word, she couldn't see any difference.

She could barely even feel it. If someone else touched the backs of her hands, perhaps they might notice...but who did that anymore?

"What would you do without me?" Asked Friday cheerfully. The other yellowblood sat across from her in her office leaning back in a spinning office chair, eating some bizarrely-flavored bar. Cream-covered kiwi? Why.

"Make a different plan." She retorted.

Friday laughed. "Face it; you don't have any other last ditch efforts besides this." Then she sighed. "It's too bad...all of it is. At least we'll have more to study if he doesn't make it! But that's not really the same."

"No, it's not." Murmured Ullane.

The curly-haired surgeonhiliator fixed her boss with an amused but appraising expression.

"You know how to pick 'em, don't you? I understand, though."

The porcupine-firefly troll gave her employee a glare, but it was more automatic than anything.

"C'mon, Ullane." Said Friday, coaxing but gentle. "I'm sorry about the mistletoe thing, okay? I won't do anything like that again."

"Better not." Retorted the administrator, tail flicking irately. Friday was one of her few employees who knew; her fellow lowblood hadn't batted an eye at it.

Friday took a few more slow bites of her bar, and Ullane leaned back in her own chair, stretching, examining her arms, feeling her neck. It really was all seamless. They'd known it was possible - such a procedure had been done before successfully on numerous patients - but it still wasn't a common surgery.

It also wouldn't be easy to undo. Not that she thought she'd ever want to. Outside of what it was intended for, this would be useful to have for other emergency situations.

"What you think of this, Friday?" She murmured, tired yet unable to sleep just yet. "Am I insane?"

"A little. But you wouldn't be doing this if you weren't. I think a little insanity is healthy for us. So many trolls we save die anyway!" Said the beefly troll cheerfully. "What we do is totally pointless sometimes, but we still have to do it, or how could we live? Plus it'd be really boring if we just did nothing."

Ullane blinked.

She looked at her hands again, dull gray with yellow undertones, her tricolor claws in need of a trim. This wouldn't kill her. But it had certainly changed her.

Would it be enough if it was needed?

Was anything ever enough? To atone? To fix her mistakes that could be fixed? To make a new life?

Of course it wasn't. Such things couldn't be weighed so simply, added and subtracted like ingredients in a serum.

But it was better than nothing. Maybe only good for putting her own mind at rest, even if she couldn't yet sleep.

She closed her eyes.

Love made you do strange things.

Perhaps this was the strangest of all.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

panic {e.m}

Plot: Eddie is the person who knows you best and can calm you down when the panic creeps up.

Character: Eddie Munson x Plus Size Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Anxiety attack/panic attack, negative thinking over weight

requested by anon

part of my e.m ‘pretty eyes’ series

Exams were swiftly approaching and you couldn't help but feel the impending doom creeping up on you. You'd tried to study, tried to be as prepared as you could be for them but there was a lot riding on you to pass and get the best grades possible in order to get into your chosen college but there was too much pressure and you were crumbling beneath it all. You were barely surface level anymore, barely keeping your head above all the water.

Eddie knew that something was going on with you. You'd been cancelling plans left, right and centre recently, only seeing him when he practically had to drag you to his trailer. Even when you were with him, it was like you were in another world, always seeming so low and down and Eddie wanted to know what was going on.

So, as your boyfriend, Eddie Munson was prepared to go to any length to find out what you weren't telling him.

He knew that you wouldn't come over for no reason so Eddie told a little white lie. He hated lying to you, the two of you were very much against it but he knew that there was something that you were holding back and he needed to find out what it was. You'd pulled away from him, pulled away from yourself and he was worried. You seemed like a shadow of yourself so of course he was worried about you.

He had called you on the Friday after school and had begged for you to come over, giving an excuse of it was urgent and he needed you here immediately. His tone had been one of urgency so you complied, confused as to what was going on but when you arrived at Eddie's the first thing he said was, "Okay, don't be mad at me but everything's okay."

You frowned as you walked into the trailer, half expecting it to be on fire or something, "What's going on?"

"I lied." A pang of guilt reverberated through him as he saw the hurt on your face, "I'm really sorry, I know we don't lie and I know you hate it- I hate it too- I just- I was worried, (y/n) and-and I'm sorry." He looked sorry, to be fair to him. He looked terrified of your reaction with wide eyes and pale skin. He kept fidgeting with his rings and you knew that he was nervous about something. Usually Eddie was so confident in his choices but seeing him like this made you realise that something was wrong.

"Why did you lie?" You asked, "Why are you worried?"

"Would you have come over had I not said it was an emergency?" He asked, eyes sad.

You swallowed.

Eddie's face softened. It hurt him to know that you wouldn't have come had he not feigned the situation being an emergency but he knew that something was wrong so he gave you the benefit of the doubt. Before, Eddie would've thought it was because of him and he would've broken up with you in order to save his heart getting broken from you first but now, through your constant trust and love, Eddie was more secure in himself to not suddenly snap to the most extreme thing. He had remained calm which he was pretty proud of.

He led you over to the couch, sitting you down as he grabbed a beer from the fridge before sitting beside you, "I don't want to corner you," he admitted quietly, "but I know that you're not telling me something." Your heart beat began to quicken and you couldn't look at Eddie. Your eyes moved to look at your hands which were fidgeting with the sleeves of your jumper, "I'm worried about you, (y/n)."

God, you just wanted to cry. You hated that you'd pushed yourself so far away from the one person who was there to help you. You hated that you'd allowed yourself to become swallowed up by the ocean that was the pressure and stress you were under. You hated that you'd let it control you this much. That rising sense of panic which felt as though it was permanently nestled in the pit of your stomach began to swell and grow as though it was taking over you.

"I just want to help you."

"I-I-"

The panic was reaching out, grabbing onto the inside of you to drag its way up and up and up. It took control of your lungs, squeezing them and making them feel like they couldn't function properly. Your breathing hitched as you tried to suck in a deep breath trying to offset the panic but it didn't work.

"Babe? Are you okay?"

"I-I can't breathe-"

The panic's icy cold hands reached out, squeezing on your heart, repeatedly pumping it harder and faster until you were so aware of it painfully battering off of your ribs. As the panic crept up to your chest, squeezing it, your eyes snapped to Eddie's and he could see the terror. It didn't take long before the panic had taken your vision, replacing it with bleary, blurry vision instead and had taken over the rational side of your brain, replacing it with the negative, scary thoughts.

Eddie was quick to jump into action. He moved from his place on the couch and propped himself on his knees in front of you, grabbing one of your hands tightly, "Hey, hey, you're okay," he said quickly, voice with an edge of fear but mainly calm, "(y/n), look at me. You're okay."

You blinked hard, squinting as you tried your best to focus on him but the panic was too much, it was interfering with your scenes and you couldn't focus, "I-I can't, Eddie. I- I can't see-"

"Close your eyes," he cut over you, "You don't need to see me. Close your eyes, (y/n)."

You could barely concentrate on what he was saying, the sound of your racing heart filling your ears like a drum banging loudly in your head. You felt dizzy, world spinning and tilting as you struggled to take a decent breath.

"Hey," his voice was louder but calm, "close those pretty eyes for me." You did and it helped to take the edge off. If you closed them, you couldn't freak out about not seeing, "Good, good, well done," he cooed, thumbs running over your knuckles, "Next we're going to slow our breathing, okay?"

"I-I'm so stressed, Eddie-" you choked out, "So- so fucking stressed. E-Exams and s-studying- and- and-"

"Shh, love, it's okay." He had to stop you from thinking about it or else it would get bad - well worse - really quickly, "Let's breathe. Remember nice and slow."

But you couldn't. You couldn't stop the thoughts that swirled around your head, you couldn't help but panic more as the anxiety coursed through your body, pressing down hard on your chest and squeezing your lungs tight until you were gasping for a breath.

"I-I can't," you wailed opening your eyes, ripping your hands from Eddie's and standing up. You were trying to gulp down air but the panic wouldn't let you. You were sweating, beads forming on your forehead as you flapped your hands, eyes wide open and blurred, "T-Too hot- c-can't-"

Eddie snapped into action, flinging open the kitchen window and throwing open the door to let air in, "(y/n), you gotta try and listen to me," he said, once again taking your hands and standing in front of you but you were too far gone. Eddie felt useless, he felt like he couldn't effectively help you and then he remembered something that he'd read in a book a while ago.

He didn't know if it would work, when he'd read it even he was sceptical of its effectiveness but he thought that it would be worth trying anyway. His hands tugged you towards him as you tried to form a sentence before he pressed his lips to yours, locking you in a hard kiss.

The abruptness of it shocked you, making you blink a few times in surprise as Eddie's lips were pressed hard against your own. You were confused. He held you there for a few seconds before pulling away slowly. You had been so confused and so focused on him for those few seconds that your brain had forgotten about the panic, had forgotten about your lungs not working and now, now the rational part of your brain had kicked in again. You could breathe, not perfectly, it still hitched every now and again but it was an improvement and your heartrate slowed.

"What- What was that for?" You asked quietly, focusing on getting your words out.

"I, uh, saw it in a book," he rubbed the back of his neck, "that a kiss might shock the person having a panic attack long enough for you to lose focus of the panic and instead focus on the kiss... Gonna be honest, it was a shot in the dark, I didn't know if it would work."

You moved into him, wrapping your arms around his waist as his looped around your shoulders, squeezing you gently, "Thank you, Eds," you whispered, "I-I just got so overwhelmed. I've not-" you swallowed and Eddie knew that you couldn't talk about it just now.

"Hey," he said pulling back, "have I played you the new Metallica song on guitar yet? It's called Master of Puppets and it's fucking insane." Eddie had played it for you already, several times actually, but you knew that you needed the distraction so you allowed him to tug you into the bedroom where he sat you on the mattress which lay on the floor before he grabbed his guitar and began to play.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the music for a while, swaying gently. Eddie watched your carefully, constantly eyeing you to make sure your breathing was slow and you weren't panicking. He was always good at providing a distraction for you, always seemed to know your limits and know when to intervene. You loved him so wholeheartedly for taking care of you during an attack. He never complained, never once got annoyed at you; he was perfect. He didn't enjoy them, he hated that you suffered with them but he took on part of the responsibility to help you out of them as best as he could.

Eddie had some experience with anxiety, though at the time he didn't know what it was. When he was a kid, he suffered a lot, it would feel like his chest was being crushed and he'd lie awake, panting and terrified. He learned his own coping mechanisms such as counting the stars he could see out of his window, trying to name every street within a two mile radius, humming a song quietly; all of those things helped shift the focus from the panic to concentrate on something different, that's why he kissed you because he knew that the shifting focus could work.

When he finished playing, he set the guitar down before crawling onto the bed beside you, pulling you down to lie with him, wrapping you both up in the duvet, "How we doing?"

You nodded, "Better... Thank you."

He shook his head, "You ready to talk about it?"

You puffed your cheeks out, "It's all a bit silly if I'm honest."

"Your feelings aren't silly," he chimed in, "let's go through them."

So you started at the beginning. You started about how stressed you'd been, "We've got exams coming and every time I try and study, every time I actually try and do something, I just can't- I can't focus, I can't concentrate. I started staying up late at night to try and see if that would help and it did... until it didn't."

He had noticed the dark circles that had been residing under your eyes for a few weeks.

"At night that's when all the bad thoughts came, telling me I wasn't good enough, I wasn't smart enough, pretty enough, skinny enough... It wasn't just the stress of exams anymore, it was everything. I felt like I was drowning under it all. My brain was attacking me, telling me I was ugly and pathetic, telling me I'd amount to nothing, telling me that you hated me, that you wouldn't love me... I..."

Eddie shook his head, "Baby, look at me, show me those pretty eyes," you looked up at him, "You are more than enough. I love your body. I don't care what size you are, it doesn't bother me or affect my love for you at all, I promise... Look at you, you're so fucking gorgeous, I love everything about you. You are so deserving of love and I am here to give you it."

You smiled up at him, "I love you, Eds."

"As for your exams, we'll study together. We have plenty of time before your exams, we'll study together and come up with a plan of action, yeah?" You nodded, "It's going to be okay, regardless of your results. One day at a time." He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "But you have to let me help you, you can't shut yourself away from me if you do that again, you'll make it worse off for yourself. Let me help, let me take some of the pressure from you, okay?"

You nodded, moving into rest your head on his chest, "Okay..." you breathed slowly, "I won't shut you out anymore, I'm sorry by the way. I- I didn't mean to, I just got so overwhelmed and-"

He shook his head, "Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad or annoyed I just want to help, okay?"

You nodded again, promising him that you'd let him in and talk to him more. You pressed a soft kiss to his clothed chest as you lay there before Eddie started talking about his new Dungeons and Dragons campaign, he knew that when you were anxious he would talk about random topics so tonight's topic of choice was Dungeons and Dragons. You relaxed into his embrace, getting lost in his words. Already, you felt like a weight had been taken off of your shoulders. You felt ten times better after talking to Eddie and letting him in. It felt nice to be reminded that you were wanted, that you were cared about and that you had that one person who was there to listen. It wasn't long before your eyes fluttered shut and you were snoring softly on Eddie's chest.

He smiled, he always loved when you fell asleep on him, before pressing a kiss to your head, "I love you," he whispered softly, "You're gonna be fine, I promise."

[inhuman-obey-me]

For the @solomonbday2021 collab project with theme Ruins. (Be sure to check out the rest of the pieces from the collab too, we were the hosts and had many wonderful and talented participants join!)

Art by Mod Cosmos

Writing by Mod Chaos

A Kingdom Lost

Can also be read on Ao3 here Word Count: 3.6k Description: Solomon travels back in time to journey through some of the ruins of the kingdom he once ruled, and reflects on his life and history. [cw: references to death]

"I'm sorry I failed you," Solomon whispers quietly to the tomb, placing a single chrysanthemum atop the lid. He touches his fingertips softly to his lips and brushes them gently over the name engraved in the stone. Rehoboam.

The sorcerer doesn't often visit these graves, or at least not anymore. For a long time, he had visited so frequently that it seemed nearly every day was the anniversary of another loss. So it went, for an immortal man who'd had so many dear to him to lose. But responsibilities called, and centuries passed, and gradually he'd come less and less until time crumbled stone and memory alike, until he was left with hardly anything to visit. It's only with the help of Barbatos, amplified by his own powers, that he's still able to come to this place now.

The light herbal scent of the fresh flower cuts through air hanging heavy with the weight of death and dust, but every movement seems to echo through the thickness of the atmosphere, and despite the luster of the gold that seems to line every surface in here, the room is dark. Here, among the remains of his forefathers and descendents alike, it feels almost as though the flowers are the only living thing -- as though Solomon himself, bones weary as any corpse after so many millenia alive, is just another of these long-deceased kings.

Really, by all rights, he should have been.

He glances guiltily at the tomb beside this one, all too aware of the puppet that rests within, standing in for his own supposed corpse. It had been hard, watching from afar as the world mourned him, and harder still to stand by and watch his kingdom fall afterwards. But that, he supposed, was his own fault as well, and it was not his place to step in to save that which he had doomed.

Although, he laments to himself, running his hand over the name on the tomb again, I do wish I could have spared you the pain of being blamed for what was meant to punish me.

He straightens, looking back over the bouquets on this and every other coffin in the room, thoughts thick with memories of his long-gone loved ones. It quells his heavy heart for now to know that their spirits must have felt the life of the flowers upon them. Perhaps this will rest their hearts too, looking down upon him and seeing his deception, his ongoing life and wretched never-ending journey about the world. Or perhaps, like so many others, the lie has caused them to lose track of him. Perhaps none of those he loved in his first life are watching over him anymore.

That won't stop him from honoring their memory, though. He owes them at least that much, he thinks, as he takes one last glance before walking out.

--

The sun that greets him as he emerges is harsh, bleaching the flat outer rock of the old structure with its rays. Solomon had nearly forgotten, after so long in the cold of the constant Devildom nighttime, how hot the temperatures got out here.

It'll be a trek to reach his next stop of his little history tour; normally, he might have simply cast a teleportation spell for such a distance. But today, full of memories of his former life, he recalls what it was like to simply walk, so instead he simply casts a spell to transform his clothes to something lighter and more appropriate to the terrain, followed by a wind spell to help keep the heat at bay.

He makes his way through the desert, taking in the rough feeling of sand slipping into his sandals and the way the sun bears down on his skin. Even when he had lived in his own time, he'd had the luxury of grand palaces, fine silks, and all manner of servants taking care of his every whim. But he remembers the way he had to journey back through the desert, after a quarrel with Asmodeus ended in the demon flinging him far across the land, and walking this way now feels reminiscent of that time.

He'd been so angry, at the time. In fact, he had spent a good several days plotting how he'd exact his wrath when he returned. How dare this demon, whom he commanded, a demon that he was fated to control, trick him and take his ring. At the time, he'd hardly possessed much magical power of his own, and having the Ring of Wisdom taken from the great sorcerer had reduced him to little more than any other average human. But he'd been promised glory, and he had been enraged at the prospect of the blessing he'd received being snatched away so easily by this lowly demon.

Not, of course, that Asmodeus was really a lowly demon, by any means. But the Solomon of that time had been much more arrogant and entitled, and had treated his demons as lesser beings to be controlled. He's not proud now of who he was then, and has since worked to repair his relationships with his pact-mates, of course. But still, he knows the way some of the demons at RAD look at him with suspicion, has heard their rumors of his deviousness and trickery even now, and he can hardly blame them. He knows that's who he used to be, even if he's tried to become better than that.

But the memory of the man he used to be is exactly why he's come back to this time -- to walk the ruins of the world he'd inhabited and influenced and see the aftermath of his mistakes. This is what he thinks as he starts up the steps to the grand palace he used to inhabit.

His footsteps are careful, cognizant of the delicate state of disrepair that surrounds him. Sand has worn at the stone, leaving it uneven in some places, and in others, he can see thin cracks that have begun to form, threatening to crumble with the barest weight upon them.

Still, their grandiosity remains, and even having walked these steps a million times and more, they never fail to inspire awe as he looks up upon the great structure at the top. Faded remnants of beautiful designs adorn the walls, studded with golden accents interwoven throughout. Grand pillars hold up the impossibly tall overhang above the ornate entrance.

The echoing sound of every footfall bounces against the decaying walls, which are impressively still standing mostly intact despite everything, and Solomon makes his way through the vast entryway further through the palace. It feels strangely large now that it is empty of the lively bustle of the courtiers, visitors, and servants that he used to see moving about; the ceilings feel so much more distant now that they don't contain the raucous cries of life all around.

He moves on, wandering the halls until he arrives at the living quarters, almost a small city in and of itself. Gazing upon the vast network of luxuriant rooms, he remembers with a pang of loneliness the many wives and children who had once resided here. His own chambers were separate, but the plethora of family he'd taken had once filled these halls with laughter, and filled his own life with joy.

Perhaps it was just lust after all, to have had so many lovers, many of whose names he hardly even remembered anymore, but at the time, he'd really convinced himself that he'd loved them all. Of course, some of them had held more favor with him than others, and some, like the pharaoh's daughter, had come with demands of luxury that he'd happily obliged. But still, he'd enjoyed their company deeply and lavished them with gifts of all kinds -- including the many temples to their foreign gods that had eventually come to earn him his own God's ire. He'd gotten lost in fascination with them and their cultures, so eager to learn and expand his wisdom through their tales and mythologies that he had doomed his own kingdom. Was that not enough to be called love?

Yet, after learning what love really felt like, could he honestly say that he'd loved all his wives? What he'd felt for them hardly compared to his true former beloved. And it was that beloved alone who had inspired such passion in him...at least until only recently, when a certain other human had begun to grow on him far more than he'd anticipated.

Despite these thoughts crowding his mind, he wanders aimlessly through the place, reminiscing with a mixture of fondness and grief for those who had lived here. Distant memories of laughter and crying alike present themselves to him as he walks.

The rooms feel luxurious and beautiful even now, tattered silks still draped about as if to hide the corrosion of the walls and floors. Graceful shapes of delicate glasswork are scattered around on various surfaces, at least half of them tipped over or broken. Emeralds are dotted both above and below, their shine weak behind the layers of dust and sand that cover everything in sight, and other gems are interspersed throughout lines of gold that run along every surface of the building.

Absentmindedly, Solomon traces his fingers along one of these lines as he travels, brushing away the dust to reveal a streak of the opulent decorations, following every bump of decay left behind in this abandoned place.

Eventually, his aimless wandering leads him back out of the living quarters to the halls again, and he finds himself just outside of the throne room.

This had been one of the most lavish areas of the whole palace, designed to impress any and all visitors who came to see him. And so it had, as even the legendary Queen of Sheba, who had a grand kingdom and riches of her own, did not look down upon this room so extravagant.

As Solomon steps foot into the room, he can still feel a tinge of residual magic lingering from centuries past, and the ground murmurs gently below him with the promise of a spectacle, though not enough magical energy remains to fulfill it. To the sides of the room, rows of soaring stone pillars, coated in red and gold paint now chipping away, flank the wide-open center on raised platforms from which his advisors used to observe. Intricate geometric designs atop the columns stretch even beyond the edges of the walls so that the warm glow of sunlight can filter in from all sides, illuminating the room with the sparkle of the many gems embedded throughout. A magnificent domed ceiling arches above, some decorative red tassels still hanging on from their spots on it despite the way they have become frayed and worn.

The openings of the walls now fill the room more with sand than sun however, with no one remaining to sweep the floors each day, and the tiles below are barely visible at all except in a few select spots. Each footstep the sorcerer takes into the room brushes some of the grains away to reveal just a hint of the marble floors beneath. The entryway leads forward into a large rectangular court, vast and open with room to fit any size of visiting party. It was here that he entertained all audiences, from royal caravans to the humble pair of women who had infamously appeared before him with a baby. Here, he'd made his legacy as a master of wisdom -- King Solomon the Wise. He'd accepted the moniker with some pride at the time, but now, looking back on it, the title makes him cringe with embarrassment.

Solomon can't help thinking to himself that perhaps the wisest thing he ever did was to leave this place.

It is hard to be a wise man when spoiled with all manner of material gratifications. Wives, concubines, gold, jewels, land, feasts, parties -- there had been no end to the distractions and delights available to him at any time. His greed had gotten the better of him, as is obvious to him now, faced with the excessive opulence of this entire palace. And before him, at the fore of the room, stands yet the most egregious example of his excess of all.

Solomon's former throne stands six steps high, each level bookended by a small lion statue of pure gold on either side, and each of those accompanied by a golden eagle sculpture just as large. Though some parts have been worn away by sand, many of the details upon their faces and feathers are still clearly discernible. Indents in the ground mark where several other golden animals further up, presumably long since looted, formerly decorated the area surrounding his seat. It's a shame to see the fish on either side of the seat missing, but he supposes they're better off stolen away elsewhere than left here to rot like everything else.

There is a weak mechanical whir below his feet as he ascends, gears stiffly attempting to stir back to life after ages of neglect and disuse. Little happens; the metal fauna they were meant to move are long gone, and sand has seeped into the spaces between the wondrous mechanisms besides. But it's reassuring, in a way, to hear the click of something alive in this place, not quite nostalgic but a relief compared to the bizarre silence in this room which was never meant to be empty like this.

Up close now, the golden wings that provided him shade where he'd sat were also gone, and he can see how the vulnerable plush cushion of the seat has become faded and threadbare now with its exposure to the sun and sands. At least the rest of the throne seems intact, however. Sculpted from ivory, covered in gold, studded with all manner of gemstones, from emeralds and pearls to onyx and cat's eye. How prideful, how arrogant. What kind of king had he been, really?

He leans down to blow dust off of the back, rubbing a thumb against the gems to polish at least a few back to their former luster.

It strikes him again, as it always does on these visits, the futility of it all. The riches, the kingdom, the wives and children, even blessings from God Himself. And yet, had the kingdom not fallen? It had, and he'd had to watch from the sidelines in his falsified death as everything he had ruled crumbled apart.

Then why not embrace the demons he had come to command? In a strange way, being condemned and punished for straying too far had been freeing for him. With time, he had learned to become friends, not just master, of his many demons, and among them, he found company in his lonely immortal life.

Before he's even realized it, he's spent quite a while pondering back upon his history, seated in this throne he used to occupy. But he should get going; there's one more stop he wants to make before he returns to his present.

--

The former king gazes upon the temple he had built and takes a deep breath.

The courtyard in which he stands is surrounded by crumbling bricks forming massive walls around the compound, but this structure, this single building in the vast open space, towers far above the limits of its surroundings. But although the outer walls have succumbed to fissures and fractures, the outside of the temple is still mostly undamaged, no doubt the work of devoted priests who diligently tried to keep up maintenance upon it until the mountaintop area was wholly left to its disrepair.

It is now, in this singular moment, that Solomon can visit this piece of his past -- before future temples, before it becomes contested ground, between wars and onslaughts, just abandoned enough to sneak his way in.

More out of ritual than respect, he conjures forth water into the rusting grand basin outside and washes himself in it before entering.

The gates are heavy as Solomon pushes them open, carrying the weight of various symbols and designs embossed in gold plates upon their panels.

The thunder of the doors echoes across the vast empty chamber. Here, unlike the palace, the quiet feels appropriate, a solemn and devout solitude. He waves gently, flickering flames into existence on the long-unused candelabras which line the walls. Immediately, the room fills with a warm glow as the light of the torches bounces off of the gold-covered walls and floors. Beautiful illustrations light up all over the room, geometric designs mixed with the fables and stories his father had shared with him of God and His kingdom.

It feels more than a little ironic, truly, that this historic and magnificent house of worship had been built by demons, at his command. Granted, they'd had little choice in the matter, with his pacts allotting him power over them. But the Celestial Realm had gifted him with this power to control the demons, long before he'd really developed magical strength of his own, and who was he, at the time, to defy their wishes?

He wonders, for a moment, if Asmodeus has ever truly forgiven him for it. The Avatar of Lust isn't one to openly hold grudges, but Solomon knows all too well that he can certainly be petty when the whim strikes. But the moment passes, and he comforts himself in the reassurance that a fickle demon like Asmodeus certainly does love him after all, or he wouldn't call upon the sorcerer so frequently for favors in return nowadays.

He drifts gradually towards the altar farther in, dipping his head at it like a muscle memory long forgotten. On a side table, neglected loaves of bread have long since rotted, filling the atmosphere with the musty air of mold. Though he's sure no one will be by anytime soon to replace it -- he knows for a fact that it will be another couple years before anyone returns here -- he decides nevertheless to cast a restoration spell, turning back the bread to a fresh state. Similarly, he restores and relights the incense upon the altar, feeling it too strange to see the stand unlit.

Taking another moment to immerse himself in his surroundings and reflect on his past connection to this place, he gazes back over the room. Perhaps surprisingly, the gold that covers the walls and floors here has remained intact, safe from the weather of the outside world. There is hardly any sand inside at all, aside from what little followed him in today. A layer of dust coats nearly everything, but he clears it away quickly with a gentle gust of wind.

Beyond the altar, the steps beckon him -- gleaming in the candlelight, leading the eye towards a massive set of wooden doors with golden sculptures of the cherubim on either side.

Though he refrains from stepping inside, he throws open the doors nonetheless and stands at the entrance.

Here, in the Holy of Holies, he'd once stored that most precious of religious treasures. Another set of gold cherub statues stands guard over it, safely stored in the center of the room in a grand golden chest. The interior is pristine, not even dust managing to slip into this inner sanctum.

It has been a long time since Solomon has prayed, but here at the edge of this holy place, even if it's one he himself architected, he feels impulsed to murmur some quick words -- for humanity, for forgiveness, for past and future. It feels as wrong to do so as it feels not to, but at least in respect for a figure he knows for a fact to exist, he will offer this much.

Heart and mind feeling heavy, he leaves then, closing the inner door before exiting the outer ones. The candles will burn themselves out; he doesn't have the heart to put them out himself.

--

When he returns to the palace grounds beyond the temple courtyard, Barbatos is there waiting for him.

"Were you able to visit everything you wanted to?" the demon greets him with a smile.

Solomon tries to shake the thoughts from his head, putting on his own opaque smile in return. "Yes. For now, at least. Thank you, Barbatos."

His companion eyes him quietly for a moment before opening the portal to return home to their own time. Taking his hand, they walk through in silence.

Once they've stepped through, however, Barbatos does not let go right away. "Solomon, you do understand that you do not have to do that, do you not?"

The sorcerer quirks his head back at him. "I don't know what you mean," he answers with a laugh more lighthearted than he feels. "You don't like holding hands? But you're still holding mine, you know."

His friend persists, tight-lipped smile never leaving his face, though he releases his grip. "You know secrets are not easily kept from me. I am well aware of why you ask me to make these trips every few centuries. But King Solomon the Wise should have enough wisdom to know that the past is the past. You ought to leave it in the past, where it belongs."

The nickname elicits a real laugh this time, though accompanied by a sharp cringe. "I wish I could leave that name in the past," he jokes evasively. "But do we really have to talk about this right now? I'm sure Luke is waiting at the castle for his baking lesson..."

Barbatos hums in disapproval but nods, letting the matter drop for the time being.

"Have a good lesson!" Solomon waves cheerfully as his demonic friend begins to leave.

Leave the past in the past, huh? That would be better. Without a doubt, that would be better. Anything would be better than to feel this guilt and regret forever. Of course he should leave them in the past, where they belong.

If only he could.

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

Hi!! Um if you're feeling up to it, do you think you could possibly write something about the Mob! Turtles s/o having gone missing for a few days? (The reason for having been missing is up to you) sorry if this sounds dumb, feel free to ignore this :)

Not dumb at all, babes. In fact I love it! They would not be happy turtles if you went missing.

Mob! Leo

It's been 2 days and no call, no text, no internet use from any of your accounts

he's beside himself

he always, always said that he would keep you safe, that his work would never interfere with your life

but some things he can't control catch up to him

when he finds you, you're shivering and covered in blood, he's not sure how much of it is yours and how much is the guys he just killed who took you

he made their deaths quick, straight head shots so you wouldn't get too traumatised from seeing him do what he actually wanted to do to them

he'll save that for whoever ordered you to be taken, once you're home safe.

he scoops you up s carefully as possible

kisses your cheeks and forehead and nose

he's got a blanket in the car for emergencies that he wraps around you

the next week is just coaxing you back to your normal self

he gets you the best and most discreet therapist money can buy

gets you flowers every day

breaks down crying at one point because he's the reason this happened to you

he can't get over it

every night he holds you a little tighter than he did before

also gets you 24/7 protection

Mob! Raph

The big guy himself

a little needy and likes to know where you are at all times so the second you miss 3 calls he's out there tracking you

when he finds you, it's only been a few hours so you're not too hurt or shaken up

but you're still scared and relieved as fuck to see him

guns pointed at him and the guys who took you yell at him to get the fuck out

Raph just looks directly at you

"Cover your eyes, baby. You're not gonna wanna see this"

but you hear everything

it's mainly screaming but the occasional sound of what must be bone breaking or a guy being flung across the room.

when you open your eyes again there's blood everywhere, especially on Raph

he leads you out, holding on to you to support you the entire time

after that he gets you a gun, only a small one but good enough to do what needs to be done

he trains you, too

always telling you to go or the eyes and the throat first

and to fight dirty

he's a lot more vigilant about where you are from then on

if you miss one call he shows up at your work or house

it's not too long before he asks you to move in, though

it's easier to keep an eye on you when you're closer

he breaks down at one point, though

crying and begging you to forgive him for getting you into this mess

he'll never forgive himself if you got hurt

Mob! Mikey

you don't want to fuck with Mikey or what he considers to be "his"

but someone was stupid enough to and they paid the price

you couldn't keep track of where he was, it was like he was everywhere at once

he had a baseball bat with nails in it

you could hear the skin ripping and tearing as it swung away from whoever he just hit

eventually you just closed your eyes

he wanted to send a message loud and clear: "don't fuck with what's mine"

there were tears in his eyes when he went to untie you, though

he couldn't be more sorry that you were taken and that it was because of him

he makes a promise to you right there and then in that blood soaked room that nothing like this will ever happen again

after that he's a lot more attentive

does everything for you, at your beck and call day and night

he just wants you to understand that he will never let that happen again, that you're safe with him

secretly he's a mess, barely sleep anymore. too scared someone will come in the night to take you again

lots of "I'd be lost without you, I don't what I'd do if you were gone"

has Donnie keep track of you and update him every hour about where you are, just to be safe

Mob! Donnie

He knows you're gone after half an hour

there hasn't been any interaction on your phone, no cctv cameras can find you and he called your work and roommate and they don't know where you are

he's a mixture of pissed and worried

you, however, are tied to a chair in a place to don't recognise watching Donnie sneak up behind a guy who's yelling in your face before slitting his throat

That's very Donnie's style, not a quick death and a very bloody one

he knows where to cut so it'll take the longest to bleed out

he's worried, there's no doubt but he also has to rub it in

"I told you to take the better lit route home. This is what you get for not listening to me"

finds the other guys and kills them too the same way

after that, he uses it as leverage on you

you do what he says because he knows best

because the last time you didn't listen, look what happened

he'll never let you see it, but he's a bit of a wreck privately

there was a lump in his throat until he was you alive

he could only calm down once he knew they hadn't taken you from him

he watches you sleep most nights and keeps extra tabs on you than he did before

one day, the facade begins to crack, though

you didn't answer a calls and their wifi was fucking up so he couldn't find out where you were fast enough

you've never seen him so pale when he turned up at your house

he looked like he was about to cry or puke or pass out

"answer your fucking phone" was all he would say, though

you could barely move he held you so tightly that night

[whiteqnn]

PURE [2] - Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

A/N:  443 notes?! THIS IS INSANE! Thank you guys so much for all the love under the first part of this, I was so shocked to see how many people enjoyed this story! I hope this one will be just as fun for you as the first one ^^

part 1

part 3 

part 4 

part 5

PURE [2]

Corpse stared at the red screen with the word IMPOSTOR written in the middle, his eyes widened, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“No way” he murmured into his microphone, no longer holding himself from breaking into laughter. “Do you guys see this? I wish I could see Y/N’s reaction.”

It took his audience just a second to respond, his chat being flooded with lots of comments about the said girl. 

“SHES SHOOK” he managed to read one from the hundreds of comments, once again bursting into laughter. “Yeah, I can imagine.”

He decided to follow Lily for a while to make himself less suspicious. He probably didn’t need to do that this time, since the others usually suspected him when he was innocent. Ironically, each time he was the impostor, they seemed completely blind to every murder he committed. 

They were both doing their tasks in O2 when the first body was reported. 

“Woah, Y/N is fast” he mumbled, before unmuting himself. 

“Okay,” Lily began speaking first “Corpse is 100% innocent, we were together this whole round, doing our tasks in O2. That’s all I have.”

“Yeah I saw you guys in there,” Felix said. “Where’s the body Sykkuno?”

“Um, so first of all I can also vouch for Dave and Y/N, we were hanging out all this time. So in the beginning, we were all in the upper engine, protecting each other like good friends that we are, and then we headed towards the medbay. And that’s where it gets interesting because I’m pretty sure I saw Poki leave medbay and run to the cafeteria.”

“You really think I would kill my best friend in the first round?”

“Yeah well, some people do” Sean scoffed, clearly referring to the last game when he was murdered by Felix. “Besides, I saw you guys when I was leaving Security so it looks like you were with her the entire round.”

“Wha- Okay, let me defend myself. I would never kill her if I was the impostor, which I’m not because she’d literally come barging into my room to murder me. She’d kill me for killing her first.”

Toast, who seemingly still held grudge against Corpse’s fellow impostor, decided to call Y/N out “Y’know, we all played with Rae before, so we all know how furious she gets after being killed first... but there’s one person who doesn’t know that.”

“Y/N/N?” Sean’s voice blared through their headphones “As much as I know how hard it would be for her to make the first kill, I can actually see that happening.”

“What?! Sykkuno vouched for me literally seconds ago, where the heck did you get that from Toast?” she asked in utter shock. Corpse glanced at his chat and leaned towards his mic, making sure that he was muted in the game.

“Y’know guys, if I didn’t know she’s the impostor, I’d believe in her every word. I mean, she’s so innocent, just listen to her.” he said with a smile, not expecting in the slightest how his audience will react. 

“Aww, he goes soft for her ^^” 

“The duo we need but don’t deserve”

“Y/N FOR THE BRIDE”

“What?” he almost stuttered, quickly going through the growing number of such comments. “I mean-”

“Ooh, someone’s getting angry. Where the heck? That’s aggressive, Y/N” Felix’s amused voice brought him back to reality, and even though Corpse didn’t use a webcam, he still tried to hide his pink-tinted cheeks in the material of his hoodie.

“It was not me! I swear! I was doing my tasks all this time, making sure that no one murders Sykkuno or Dave!” 

“You’re pretty defensive for someone who claims to be innocent,” Toast said with a smirk hiding in his voice. 

“Give her a break guys, she was literally with us all this time. I’m sure we would’ve noticed if she killed somebody” Dave stood up for her, but it seemed like all the attention was directed from Poki to Y/N. 

“Well maybe the other impostor is either you or Sykkuno and you’re just trying to clear each other?”

“Um, if there were two impostors among the three of us, the third person would have to be a crewmate. I mean, it would be impossible for them to kill somebody without a crewmate seeing it.” Sykkuno pointed out, much to Corpses’ relief. 

“I knew Sykkuno would vouch for her” he told his chat, before unmuting himself to defend Y/N as well “Haven’t we already established that Poki is sus as well? She was last seen near the body and has no alibi.” 

“I didn’t do it. The only person that could vouch for me is dead, we were with each other the entire round. I leave her for a few seconds and somebody kills her, but it wasn’t me.” 

“I don’t think she’s lying guys, I mean, if she killed Rae she’d probably be dead already” Felix chuckled “Let’s just skip this round, we don’t have enough evidence.”

“Alright, but Y/N,” Toast said, as everyone pressed the skip button “I have my eyes on you.”

Corpse could hear her sigh before everyone muted their mics. 

“We’ve gotta get rid of Toast guys, he’s too suspicious. I don’t want him accusing my partner in crime, even though he’s right” he chuckled under his breath, following Toast’s character into Admin. “Alright, Felix is with us as well, good. If I just pretend I’m doing card swipe, they’re gonna both vouch for me since everyone knows I’m great at this task.” he shook his head with a deep laugh escaping his throat. 

He could see the other two astronauts running around admin, before they both decided to leave, which gave Corpse a perfect opportunity to frame Toast. He killed the lights and chased his victim who, much to his joy, was now completely alone in comms. 

“Hi, Felix. Bye, Felix.” Corpse snapped his neck before speeding out of the room and venting into Navigation.

That’s when someone fixed the lights. And Corpse jumped out of the vent, only to come face to face with none other than Toast. 

“SHIT” he laughed in panic, seeing that he couldn’t use the kill function yet. “Shit, he must’ve seen me.”

And indeed, it took Toast just a split of second to run out of the room and speed towards the emergency button, Corpse hot on his tail, even though he knew he wouldn’t avoid getting ejected. 

“I’m busted guys, there’s no way they’re gonna believe me” he told his audience, watching as Toast’s character approached the button. However, Corpse wasn’t sure if he was just seeing things, but he thought that he saw an outline of another character appear out of nowhere just mere seconds before Toast called the meeting...

“YES” he almost screamed, at the same time laughing hysterically, when he saw the red cross decorating Toast’s name. 

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!” Sean yelled, similarly to every other player that remained alive. “HOW DID THAT HAPPENED?!”

“Oh my God.”

“But- I don’t get it. What just happened?” Y/N’s soft voice sounded out, making Corpse laugh even more. 

“Someone killed Toast the moment he called the meeting.” Sykkuno explained, barely holding himself from laughing.

“Is that even possible?” she asked confused, her voice sounding so innocent and sweet that the other impostor couldn’t stop himself from grinning.

“Oh my god, she’s just- I can’t.” he chuckled deeply “She’s too precious guys, I swear I’m gonna do everything to keep her alive.”

“Yeah, that’s some big brain move. And since Toast is dead, there’s only one person with balls who could do it” Sean said, clearly very sure of his next words.

“CORPSE!” Lily chirped into her microphone, her voice soon being followed by others who eagerly agreed with her. 

“Okay, I admit I saw them in admin where I was doing the card swipe, but then they both left and I haven’t seen them anymore.”

“Were you in admin this whole time?” Poki asked. 

“Um- yeah, pretty much. I tried to beat my own record in failing a card swipe.” he replied, making everyone laugh. He thought of it as a good cover, unless someone entered the admin after he left... 

“Sykkuno where are you?” Poki directed her next question to the lime astronaut.

“Why am I accused again?” he asked confused “I was with Sean in medbay, I think Y/N joined us for a moment to do the scan, then she left, and then Toast called the meeting.”

“So maybe it’s her?” Dave commented “I mean, medbay is right next to the cafeteria, so she had quite an easy access to the emergency button.”

“Yeah, that would actually make sense” Lily added.

“Oh no, they’re gonna vote her off...” Corpse mumbled under his breath, deciding that he had to intervene. She just saved his ass, he couldn’t possibly just watch her get ejected because of that. 

“Guys, I didn’t even know it was possible to kill someone this way. Trust me, I played only a few times and Jack made sure not to reveal any of his big brain moves.” she scoffed at the last part, making Jack let out a loud laugh.

“How can we be sure you’re not just acting all innocent? I mean, you exposed Felix last game, being one of the last people to stay alive.”

“Y/N was with me when Toast called the meeting, she is innocent” Corpse decided to finally speak up. The silence settled among other players. “She found me in admin and made sure nobody killed me when I failed the fucking card swipe.”

“Why are you saying this just now, Corpse?”

“Cause he’s fallen for her god damn trap! I told you!” Sean argued.

“What trap?” Y/N asked confused.

“I mean, who wouldn’t? It’s like listening to an angel” Corpse said, before he could stop himself. Everyone on the call went wild, just like his chat did... He didn’t know why he said that, it just slipped before he really thought about it.

“Corpse, you do realize you’re simping only makes you even more suspicious?” Poki asked with a laugh, and Corpse felt the blush rising up his cheeks. Even more, when Y/N completely ignored this comment, deciding to suddenly stay quiet...

Did he make her uncomfortable with such comments?

“Seriously though, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t her. We watched each other’s back, so I’m also clean.” 

“As much as I hate to do it, I have to agree with Corpse on this one” Sean suddenly said. “That she’s innocent, I mean. I’m sure Corpse just follows her around like a lost puppy and I didn’t see the two of them, but I doubt Y/N knew it’s possible to kill somebody like that. No offense kiddo.”

“See? Guys, it wasn’t me!” she exclaimed. 

“Wait, why do you hate to agree with me?” Corpse asked in confusion.

“CAUSE YOU’RE KINDA SUS CORPSE” 

“What? I just told you my alibi, weren’t you listening Jack?”

“We have twenty seconds left” Lily reminded, cause everyone seemed to forget about the voting time. “We don’t skip at 7, right?”

“Alright, I’m voting Corpse, I still think he’s sus even though I agreed with him.” Sean announced, much to Y/N’s dismay. She quickly objected, trying to defend her fellow impostor:

“It’s NOT him, I watched him fail that dang card swipe!”

“DANG?! NO NEED TO BE SO OFFENSIVE YOUNG LADY” 

“I’m also voting Corpse, he must be one of them.” Lily agreed with Jack.

“Sykkuno, I hope you’re not doing what I think you’re doing” Y/N asked the lime astronaut, who was silent for the past few minutes.

“I um- I don’t know, they kinda have a point Y/N...”

“Sykkuno, listen to me.” she lowered her voice, trying to convince him “Corpse is not the impostor. You know you can trust me, right?”

“...”

“SYKKUNO GOD DAMN IT, DON’T LISTEN TO HER!”

“Sorry guys...”

Corpse burst out laughing, seeing that out of seven remaining players, five of them decided to skip. 

“She’s too good” he chuckled, quickly running up Y/N’s character when they started the next round. He circled her white astronaut, and she seemed to get his message because she eagerly followed him into Electrical to fake the tasks and wait for someone to show up. 

Soon enough two figures waltzed into the room, only to be simultaneously decapitated by the two impostors, who then swiftly vented into medbay and locked the door to their crime scene. 

“That was smooth” Corpse smiled, happily running around Y/N’s character. “I love being impostors with Y/N, it’s so much fun. The best thing is that no one besides Toast really suspects her of doing something wrong.”

Corpse figured Y/N sabotaged the oxygen because the next thing he saw was Lily running past medbay to stop it from depleting. 

“Ladies first, Y/N” he mumbled, and even though she couldn’t hear him, her small character sped up and left the medbay, chasing after Lily. He waited a few seconds, before bursting out laughing.

Victory. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sean yelled in shock “Y/N?! EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT NOW”

“Y/N HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!”

“That was... I would never guess it was you!” 

“I’m sorry guys, I really didn’t want to kill any of you” she laughed apologetically, but Corpse could sense she was smiling “I just had no other choice...”

“Yeah, I’m sure you killed us by accident” Toast’s voice blared out, followed by loud laughter.

“What was that again? I didn’t even know you could kill someone this way?” Felix mocked in a high pitched voice, making them laugh hysterically. Corpse also found himself unable to catch a breath between his giggles.

“I told you guys they’d fuck us up.” Rae spoke up “But I was actually glad Y/N killed me first, watching her kill Toast was so much fun.”

“Ha ha, thanks, Rae!” Toast exclaimed ironically.

“Y/N and Corpse are just complete serial killers, I don’t know how else to comment that” Felix chuckled. 

“Well...” Corpse mumbled, unmuting his microphone “I can’t disagree. She’s a perfect partner in crime.”

“NOT AGAIN WITH SIMPING CORPSE” he heard Sean’s response, and once again felt awkward when his all his friends laughed at him, and Y/N remained quiet. 

That was, however, until her soft voice effectively quietened everyone. 

“It was.. an honor to murder my friends with you.” 

Corpse never thought his face could hurt from smiling so much...

“Alright, who’s up for another game?” Felix asked after a few moments, and received a chorus of me’s from almost everyone. 

“Unfortunately I have to go now, but it was so fun playing with you guys!” Y/N said, making everyone (Corpse included) object rather loudly:

“One more round, please? I want to see you kill someone again!”

“C’mon kid, what else do you have to do?”

“Stay with us Y/N, I need someone to protect me!” 

“I’m sorry but I’m really tired. I’m sure I’d just fall asleep on my desk and Toast would come up behind my back to murder me.”

“Well, that was actually my plan...” the man in question replied with a chuckle.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay?” Corpse finally asked “Killing won’t be the same without you...”

“I know, and I’m sorry... But I was working the whole day and my eyes just hurt and I feel like I’m gonna faint” she replied. 

“Alright, but just so you know, we’re playing again later this week, and I better see you entering the lobby on time” Felix said, trying to sound threatening, but failing at it. Y/N giggled to herself, the sound making Corpse smile almost unknowingly. 

“I wouldn’t dare to miss a chance to murder my new friends!” 

“Oh my god, she’s too adorable!” 

Everyone said their goodbyes and soon Y/N left the call, her small astronaut disappearing from the lobby, much to Corpse’s disappointment. He wished she’d stay a little longer, playing with her was something he found incredibly fun and quite relaxing if he was completely honest. Or maybe aside from playing itself, listening to her voice was what kept bringing a smile to his face every time she spoke up. 

“Guys, I think I’m also gonna call it a day, it was really fun.”

“What? It’s not even been over an hour!” Rae protested. 

“Yeah, I um.. I know but-”

“Don’t push him guys, he can’t play without his partner in crime” Toast’s teasing voice made everyone burst out laughing, and Corpse just shook his head, glad that nobody could see how red his face became.

“Fuck you guys, okay?” he chuckled into the mic, before finally saying his goodbyes and leaving as well. He thanked his viewers for watching and promised to stay longer next time, before closing the discord. 

He sat for a moment in his chair, staring at the black screen, a smile slowly widening on his lips. It was one of the best games he had ever played in Among Us, and he couldn’t wait to be Impostor with Y/N again. 

“Perfect partner in crime... I’m such an idiot” he mumbled under his breath and felt himself blush, shaking his head at how awkward that must’ve sounded. He pulled his phone out and checked his Twitter, only for his eyes to widen once he saw the top trending hashtags. 

#Y/NxCorpse

#Y/NfortheBride

#PerfectPartnerInCrime

“Oh my God...” Corpse yelped, covering his eyes with his hand as if it would make all those tweets disappear. “Why am I the way I am?” 

He considered texting her, trying to maybe make things less awkward than they already were, but decided against it. He feared he’d make even more of an idiot out of himself... 

Convinced that all those comments about simping and now those hashtags made her uncomfortable, it didn’t even cross his mind that Y/N might be looking at them at the exact same moment, with adorable blush tinting her cheeks, and her lips turning into a small, shy smile...  

A/N: I think about writing 3rd part... 

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 1

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren't a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner's 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

A/N: if you couldn’t already tell, I have planned this as a series/full story. I was torn between writing it on here or on Wattpad or something, but ultimately decided on Tumblr . . . but let me know if you would prefer it on another platform as well! Also, this series will eventually include smut/NSFW content but that will be tagged appropriately when the time comes. As always, I hope you enjoy. 

Next →Part 2

Slamming the front door behind yourself on your way out that morning, you quickly stuffed your earbuds into your ears and cranked your music as loud as you could to drown out the sounds of your parents yelling after you and, consequently, at one another after you had dropped the bomb about your new job on them seconds before you had left, giving them as little time as possible to shame you for it.

After graduating high school and turning 18, you had decided it was time to take your life into your hands, which wasn’t too easy while you were still living under your parents’ roof, but you had to start somewhere and that somewhere was getting a job at the local corner store, Sakanoshita Market. 

You knew that your parents wanted you to go to university and ‘make something of yourself’, but you also knew that you could never truly be happy under their dictatorship-like ruling, so you decided to get a job, no matter how shitty, save your money, move out as soon as possible, and go from there. 

It was definitely going to be a process, and not an easy one, but all you had to do was take it one step at a time.

Rounding the corner and seeing the market in the distance, you felt your nerves begin to bubble inside of you a little. Sure, you had gotten some part-time jobs here and there during summer vacation before, but you had never gotten a full-time job before and had never needed the money from a job like you did now. Before, the cash you made was for extra spending money during the summer and school year, but now the money you would be making would be funding your future. It seemed like a lot of pressure to put on a job that entailed stocking shelves, checking out customers, and cleaning. 

The lady who had hired you had basically explained that since she was getting older and her son, who had been maintaining the place previously, had gotten a new job, the store needed someone to learn the ropes and take care of the place on a daily basis; and since you were young, a fast learner, and didn’t have anything else in your life besides work, you were a perfect fit. 

As the shop doors slid open smoothly to welcome you into the store you had been inside countless times in the past, you suddenly felt completely out of place in the familiar market. Now that you were an employee instead of a customer, the atmosphere had completely shifted. Instead of heading right for the fridges to grab a drink like you usually did, your eyes shifted immediately to the front counter where a figure with its feet up hid behind an open newspaper.

Just like every other time you had visited while the store owner’s son was working, he did everything humanly possible to avoid interaction. Usually, you would have appreciated not being bothered while trying to scan the shelves, but since this time was different, the lack of acknowledgement was slightly unnerving. 

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, hoping it was enough to catch his attention. It was not. Instead, he flipped the page of the newspaper and you watched as a hand emerged from behind the paper barrier to flick the ashes from his cigarette into an ashtray sitting beside the register. 

Eyebrows furrowed, you really wished that the shop owner herself had been there to greet you for your first day instead of her seemingly useless son. “Hello.” You stepped up to the counter, the feeling of not belonging sinking deeper into your bones. 

Slowly, the newspaper separating you from the man behind the counter lowered and the shop owner’s son glared back at you, eyes half-lidded as if he were seconds away from falling asleep and the cigarette from before hanging from his bottom lip. This was far from the first time you had interacted with him, but you would be surprised if he remembered you as a customer even a little. Whenever he checked customers out, you could tell he was running on autopilot. 

The man’s eyes drifted down to your hands, which were resting on top of the counter now. Noticing you didn’t have anything to purchase, he cocked a brow. “Need help finding somethin’?” 

“Ugh, no,” you answered. “I’m the new employee. I’m supposed to start today.”

His eyes scanned you once more, this time more thoroughly, and you swallowed hard. Feeling as if you were being observed under a microscope, you slid your hands off of the counter and stuffed them into your pockets self-consciously. 

As he inspected you inch by inch, you took the time to take a closer look at him as well. With dyed blonde hair, two earrings in his left ear, an apparent nicotine addiction, and a noticeably flippant attitude toward his job, he was the definition of the type of man your parents would kill you for bringing home. Somehow, this only made him more intriguing. You wondered if he really was as disinterested in everything as he seemed or if it was just this job he thoroughly hated and became someone a lot more interesting when he wasn’t behind a counter.

“How old are you?” he asked out of the blue, catching you off guard a little. While he waited for you to answer, he set the newspaper to the side, dragged his feet from the counter top, and patted out some of the wrinkles from the white apron he had tied around his bright orange sweatshirt. 

“I’m 18,” you responded, not sure why it mattered but also not seeing any harm in answering honestly. 

Seconds later, the door to the back of the shop and storage room opened and the familiar face of the woman who had hired you stepped into view. “Oh, Y/N!” she greeted happily; much more enthusiastically and welcoming than her son. “Sorry about that, I was just getting some last minute things together.” She eyed her son out of the corner of her eye and noted the fresh embers in the ashtray. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No, I just got here,” you told her. 

“Good.” She smiled sweetly before turning to her son. “Well, you can head out now, Keishin. Thank you for watching the counter.”

“Yeah,” the man, Keishin, grunted as he untied the apron from around his waist, slipped it over his head, and hung it up on a hook behind the counter. “See ya.”

With that, Keishin left, leaving you and his mother alone. Wasting no time, Mrs. Sakanoshita, whom the store was named after, got right to work on teaching you the basics and gifting you with a white apron of your own to wear while on the job. Since it was the middle of the day and the customer flow was relatively slow, she introduced you to how the register and scanner at the counter worked before moving on to unpacking boxes.

Just like you had promised on your resume and during the interview, you were a quick learner and Mrs. Sakanoshita was more than pleased to see you picking up the job quickly and efficiently. 

By the time the after work/school rush of patrons picking up items on their way home had begun, you were feeling confident in your abilities and, with your boss by your side to answer any questions you may have, you checked out customer after customer, building up muscle memory for scanning items, collecting cash, opening the register, handing out receipts, and sending customers on their merry way. 

All in all, the job was quickly growing on you. You liked the fact that, for the most part, you were the only employee on duty, so when there weren’t any customers in the store, you could work silently on unpacking boxes without having to worry about making small talk or being friendly with any coworkers. In fact, as far as you knew, the only people who worked at the store at all were you, Mrs. Sakanoshita, and her son, Keishin. 

It seemed as though you had really landed a sweet gig. 

After showing you how to lock up, Mrs. Sakanoshita headed home for the night, leaving you to finish stocking the shelves and cleaning the shop before you would head home as well.

Now that you were truly the only person left, you walked over to the old radio you had spotted on the counter during training that day and fiddled with the dials, trying to get some music playing to accompany you during your evening chores. After some careful handiwork and enduring some horrendous static and high-pitched screeching while searching for a station, you settled on what sounded like some old instrumental music and got to work on stocking the remaining shelves.

Throughout your shift, you quickly learned that the store got quite warm during the day and you had needed to tie your hair up to keep the back of your neck from dripping with sweat. The night wasn’t much better either, especially since the lack of customers so late meant that the doors rarely opened, keeping the cold night air outside and the warm store air inside. 

After finishing the last box of supplies, you exhaled and wiped your brow. You were exhausted, that was for sure, but you still had to sweep. 

Deciding to take a quick break, you turned toward the floor-to-ceiling fridges at the back of the shop and pulled open the door, sighing happily when the cool air hit your skin. Exhaling slowly, you snickered when you saw your breath fog up in front of you face. 

“You’re letting all the cold air out.”

You shrieked when you heard a voice in your right ear and slammed the fridge door shut, jumping back in the process. Thanks to the music from the radio and the loud hum of the generator that kept the fridges cold, you hadn’t heard the front doors slide open or the footsteps of Keishin approaching you.

“Jesus!” You clamped your hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sorry?”

“What are you doing here?”

Keishin glared at you. “You work here one day and suddenly act like you own the place?”

Realizing how rude your question had come across, you composed yourself and rephrased. “What I meant was, your mom didn’t say you were coming back.”

Pointing upward, Keishin sighed, disinterested. “I live in the apartment above the shop.”

“Oh.” Things started making much more sense and you suddenly felt pretty embarrassed for how you had reacted. 

“Yeah . . . oh.” He rolled his eyes, but it didn’t come across necessarily rude but more like he was exhausted and you were adding to said exhaustion. “Why were you standing with the door open anyway?”

As he spoke, he stepped toward you. At first, your feet felt cemented to the floor and you didn’t move. But when he persisted closer, you eventually stumbled back and Keishin opened the fridge door you had been standing in front of to grab a beer from inside. With drink in hand, he eyed you once again, waiting for an answer.

“It’s really hot,” you said, gesturing to his orange sweater. “I don’t know how you wear that thing in here.”

Looking down at his apparel, he just shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.” He turned and started for the counter, presumably to pay for the drink he had just taken. “In the future, stand outside if you’re warm.”

“Okay.” You nodded, mindlessly tailing him. You had to grab the broom from behind the counter anyway, but that was the furthest thing from the front of your mind at that moment. If anything, you were still trying to calm down a little from being startled and now being alone with your boss’s son. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He popped the tab on the beer, settled into the stool behind the counter, and downed at least half of the drink in a few large gulps. 

You watched him, probably a little too closely, and as you did you found yourself reexamining the features you had taken note of earlier that day: the dyed blonde hair held out of his face with a thin black headband, the natural brown hair that peeked out from the roots, the two small silver hoop earrings in his left ear, the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to him like how the smell of rain clung to the air after a heavy storm. 

Noticing your gaze, which would have been nearly impossible to miss, Keishin quirked a brow at you and held out the can of beer toward you. “You want a sip?”

Startled from your thoughts, you shook your head. “I’m only 18.” You reminded him.

“Oh, right.” He withdrew the can and took another sip, this one much smaller than the first few. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Eyes wide, you thought quick to come up with an excuse. “The broom.” You pointed to the item behind him. “Can you pass me the broom?”

After handing you the broom, Keishin pulled a slip of paper and a pen out from his pocket and started writing and scribbling things down, sipping the remainder of his beer occasionally and ignoring you completely. 

Trying to avoid staring at Keishin anymore than you already had, you started sweeping at the far end of the store and left the area around and behind the counter for last. Eventually, though, you had worked your way back over to the the silent man and was forced to clean the floor behind where he was sitting, trying hard not to disturb him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of what he was so focused on; it looked like a crude drawing of a volleyball court. “What’s that?” you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you realized you were being rude again and snooping.

Keishin, however, didn’t seem angry or annoyed in the slightest. “Volleyball positions,” he huffed. It was clear he was growing frustrated.

“You play volleyball?”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “I used to. Now I coach the boy’s team at Karasuno.”

“I went to Karasuno,” you said mindlessly, just trying to make conversation at that point. 

He hummed in response and turned his attention back to the sheet before him. “Did you play volleyball?”

“No. Soccer.”

“Do you still play?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you still play volleyball?”

“With a neighbourhood association sometimes . . . but not really.”

“Why?”

The corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk, Keishin looked back to you once more. “I asked you first.”

“It’s not a good answer.” You leaned against the broom handle and sighed. “Don’t have the time.”

“You’re young and just graduated high school. You’ve got nothing but time.”

“Not with this job.”

Keishin scoffed, folded the paper, and shoved it back into his pocket with the pen. “Speaking of which, why would you take such a boring job at a store like this?”

You just shrugged. “I need the money.”

“Don’t you live with your parents?”

“That’s the problem,” you said, noticing the confusion on his face. “I told you it wasn’t a good answer.”

“Do they know you work here?”

“Do they know? Yes,” you answered truthfully. “Do they like it? Absolutely not.”

Keishin grinned at that before finishing his beer and tossing the empty can into the recycling bin beside the front door. “So you’re one of those teens, huh?”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Trust me, kid, pissing off your parents just for the sake of it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“You think I’m doing all this just because I can?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Why then?”

“That story’s too long and convoluted for me to recite right now . . . especially to some old dude I just met today.”

Keishin chuckled under his breath, hands stuffed into his pockets as he headed for the door at the back of the shop so he could head upstairs to his apartment. “’Old dude’,” he repeated, clearly amused. “Don’t forget to lock up before you go home.”

As he turned his back to you, your curiosity got the better of you. “How old are you?”

Stopping in his tracks, Keishin pulled out a carton of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket along with a lighter. After placing the smoke between his lips, he lit it and inhaled deeply. “Too old for you, sweetheart,” he spoke while exhaling, smoke spilling from his lips as he smirked at you. 

With that, he disappeared into the back. You wanted to shout after him that you had told him how old you were without hesitation when he had asked, but you stayed silent instead. 

As much as his presence unnerved you and his superiority complex aggravated you, you still found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Maybe it was because he seemed completely disinterested in you, or maybe it was because he was everything you were always told to stay away from. 

The one thing you did know, however, was that if everyone around you was going to keep trying to convince you they knew how you should live your life better than you did, you were going to prove to them just how they wrong they were one way or another. 

[shurisneakers]

harmless (ii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, stealing cultural landmarks, frustrated bucky

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: made a header 4 this fic but i couldn’t take it seriously enough <3 

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! it’s always fun to hear from y’all. 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

It’s roughly a week before he sees you next.

Right on time too, according to the briefings he had received. Once a week you’d come up with your next batshit crazy idea and someone would be sent to make sure you didn’t execute it.

It was more of a babysitting gig than anything. Most people would do one, maybe two assignments before asking to not be sent again. 

He was not most people. He volunteers to go again. His afternoon is relatively free and he’s bored. 

Also, and more importantly, he needs to get out of the house before Sam finds out what he did.

“You’ll find her near the Statue of Liberty.”

“How do we know?”

“Oh, she tells us.”

“...she tells us where to find her?”

“Most times, yes. She says it’s time efficient.”

Absurd. He thinks you’re absurd.

Bucky finds you in line to board the ferry. You’re dressed to the nines like an obnoxious tourist, even though you were a local, topped with binoculars and a bucket hat. 

On an unrelated note, he thinks that maybe the mission today is to kill you for daring to wear sandals with socks like a suburban dad. A shudder runs through his body when he sees it.  

He’s wearing all black and a baseball cap. Somehow he’s standing out more than you are.

He boards the ferry behind you, keeping a close eye on all your movements. You take your place near the railing, a seat near the front of the boat. 

His phone rings. He answers it, expecting Sam to screech at him for painting Redwing neon pink again. He should have known it was coming after he shoved Bucky off the quinjet before he had time to strap his parachute on properly. 

“I thought I told you to bring a cape.” 

He quickly looks up at you but you’re not facing him. You have your phone held up to your ear, however.

“How did you get this number?” he asks icily.

“I knew you’d show up again.” Your head tilts to look at the statue in the distance. “Also, thanks for the door money, but I’m not sure I appreciate how you think the least creepy way to give someone money is to drop it off anonymously at their doorstep.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He swiftly gets up, stalking over to where you’re sitting. He was advised not to do anything aggressive. Advised was a flexible word. 

“Because I wasn’t going to answer it.” You look up at his figure looming over you. “Oh, hey.”

The phone is still pressed to the side of your face even though he’s right beside you. He cuts the call, shoving it back into his pocket.

“Allow me to introduce my pl-”

“What are you doing here?” He cuts to the chase. 

You send him a glare. “I was going to say it before you told me to. And sit down before everyone thinks you’re going to kill me.”

“Why are you going there?” He doesn’t have time for this, he thinks. He has important things to do. Like watching the reruns of Masterchef Junior. 

He sits in the seat beside you.

“Look at us.” You grin at him. “Me with the evilest outfit I could think of, you with your... Addams Family cosplay. We’re like, two peas in a po-”

“Start explaining,” he interjects. 

You roll your eyes. “I’m going to shrink the Statue of Liberty and use it as a keychain.”

“What?” It’s probably the most benign plan he’s ever heard in his life.

“I’m kidding.” Oh, good. “I’m not using it as a keychain, I’m taking it to class.” Nevermind. 

“What?” He finds himself repeating his previous question.

“I’m shrinking all the statues I can find. I want to use it in my classroom to teach the kids.”

“You’re... a teacher?” He blinks.

“You got a problem with that?” You look offended, to say the least. 

“No.” It’s not what he would peg your occupation as. He didn’t think you had one at all. “How are you planning on shrinking it?”

You rummage through the ugliest fanny pack he has ever had the misfortune of seeing. You pull out a small ring box, complete with a bow tied neatly on top. 

“I was saving this for our third anniversary, but-” you offer him a nervous laugh.

His stony expression doesn’t change, not even a blink. 

“Fine, Jesus, you’re no fun,” you huff, dropping the emotional act when he doesn’t look amused. 

You flip open the lid. Inside there are a few small disks. It looks familiar, he realises.

“Your friend Ant-Boy didn’t file a patent, so I just took his whole shtick.” He wants to defend Scott’s honour; it’s Ant-Man not boy. He doesn’t. He’s too transfixed on what you have in your hand.

“Pym particles.”

“The diet version.” You pick up one of them carefully. “A ripoff, but effective. Just gotta attach it to the thing I want to shrink and give it a few minutes.”

“You’re going to steal the Statue of Liberty,” he says, frankly a little taken aback that you were serious.

“Would you relax? I’ll put it back.”

“That’s not the point,” he damn near exclaims. “You can’t take away the Statue of Liberty just because you feel like it.”

“I literally can.” You point to the chips in your hand. “That’s the point of this, keep up.”

He feels exasperated. He didn’t sign up for this when he became an Avenger.

“Give me the box.” He makes a grab for it but you yank it away from his reach.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

“I don’t have time for this.” His reruns would begin in an hour.

“That’s my problem, because...” you trail off. 

He rolls his eyes, makes a grab at the box again. His tactic is different this time. He stealthily pins one of your arms down so that you’re basically incapacitated.

“Hey! Stop that.” You fumble against his reach, shoving him with your elbow.

“Just give me the thing and we can all go home for the day,” he huffs, unfazed by your squirming.

“No! Over my dead bod-” 

He doesn’t immediately notice what goes wrong in the scuffle. 

Until you look at the ground near your feet. A disk lay there, undisturbed.

“Is that-” All of a sudden, either he’s getting taller or the ceiling of the boat is getting lower.

“Oops,” you say, not remorseful in the slightest. 

“Are we going to-”

“I’d give it five minutes max.” 

Great. He was stuck on a boat that was beginning to shrink. The other passengers were either oblivious or ignorant to seats that were starting to become too small for them, but Bucky’s heightened senses and extreme reflexes made it hard to skip.

He nudges the piece of tech with his foot. Maybe he can kick it off the boat.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you warn solemnly. He wants to disagree but doesn’t know enough about the device to dispute you. 

“Fix this,” he hisses, panic slightly rising. His fingers find their way to his phone to send out an emergency text requesting backup and mass evacuation. 

“I think it’s a rather lovely day for a swim, don’t you?” You stare dreamily at the waves that were inching closer up the boat. 

Or you were inching closer to the water. Technicalities were frivolous. 

“There are other people on this boat.”

“River’s big enough for all of us, I reckon.”

“Fix it.” 

“Or what?” There’s a wicked gleam in your eye. “We both know I have the upper hand here.”

“Or I call the entirety of the Avengers here and haul your ass to prison.”

“Will they bring snacks?”

You’re insufferable. You know it. But you also are the fastest way to get out of this situation and right now, he didn’t want to be responsible for a shipwreck simulation. 

“Fine. Tell me what you want.”

“I like soy chips.”

“Soy chi-” He nearly throws his hands up in frustration. “You know what I’m talking about.” 

“I want one historical artifact so I can impress the kids. They think I’m the cool teacher and I want to keep that reputation alive.”

“What makes you think I can arrange for that?”

“You’ve been alive since goddamn dinosaurs roamed this earth, I’m sure you have some connections.” You pause to assess his face. “You know, you don’t look a day over 29. Dermatologists must hate yo-”

“I’ll get you an artifact, now fix the fuckin’ boat.”

“You promise?” You grin brightly. 

He stares at you. You are unyielding. 

The boat’s uncomfortably small and people are beginning to take notice. Worried murmurs fill the air behind him.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You shrug simply.

You kneel over, picking up the chip from the ground. You do nothing else for two minutes, instead turning away from him to look at the Statue of Liberty that was coming closer.

It takes him a while to realise that half his body isn’t hanging off his chair anymore. The ceiling is moving further and further away from the top of his head. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He wants to strangle you. 

Why did he listen to you when all of this would have been over the minute he kicked it off the ship. 

“You can drop it off at my lair on Monday and pick it up on Friday.” You gather your belongings, leaving him steaming behind you. “Nice talkin’ to ya, Sergeant.” 

You step over him, flashing him a quick smile before walking off the boat with the rest of the tourists as if nothing had just taken place. When he looks down, the stupid ring box is on his lap.

He sits there, unmoving, eyes fixed on the container.

The ferry conductor asks if he’s going to get off the boat. 

He simply shakes his head.

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