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dorki-c · 3 years

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My Guardian Demon |Chapter 1, Part 2: Two Dreams

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X (Reader)

Rating: 16+

A/N: Hey! Hey! Hey! Everybody! I just wanted to let you all know that in the beginning of this series like prologue story arc wise, I will only be highlighting the main points of said story arc.

TW: Suffocation and depiction of injury!

[Masterlist] [<--- Previous| Next --->]

(Song reccomendation for this chapter: Feeling Good by Michael Bublé)

PROMPT QUESTION FOR THIS STORY ARC: Are all demons ‘bad’?

When leaving the school gates with a silent warning that he gave to (y/n), there were a few minor details bothering him when traversing through the empty streets leading home.

At least he was able to walk alone to clear the commotion of todays events.

Sure, Izuku was used to Bakugou’s harassment towards him. For the most part, his mind always filtered out the nasty phrases that were thrown at him for the longest time.

However, what Bakugou had said was completely out of line.

Telling Izuku to commit suicide? Wow, what a great friend he was (if you could even call him that…).

Though the green-haired boy could easily say that about (y/n) as well. Even though its him and his stupid demon against society.

Was he sure that something may happen today? No, absolutely not. Even when turning a corner of the semi-suburban area that was closest to Aldera Junior High school, Izuku isn’t clairvoyant to anything that involves him.

Nope, not at all.

Even when making his way under the dark tunnel (to which he ignores his demon trying to hold him back from going in there, saying something along the lines of “W-w-wait! I don’t want to go down this way…”), Izuku still holds his head up high and ventures down the tunnel.

Like I said before, the green-haired boy isn’t clairvoyant that involves around him.

Plus, that shouldn’t exempt him from being cautious about what might lurk in the shadows.

Until this point, (y/n) only spoke in short sentences, though the only thing that caught Izuku off guard was the shaky utterance of “Izuku…L-Look behind you!”

He regrets looking behind him; A thing manifesting as a large murky green glob, paired with two large eyes and razor layered teeth (that scarcely resembled shark teeth), loomed over the 14 year old’s body.

I-I-It’s a villain!

As soon as Izuku blinked, one moment he was free and scrambling to his feet (fearful of the sludge villain) and the next, his body was trapped in something slimy… The green sludge body dripped with viscous thick globs as it wrapped like a vice around the boy. With a waterfall of pleading cut short and shown through desperate green eyes as Izuku squirmed annoyingly to the villain, there was no chance of escaping because he would be dead “in a minute” tops.

In a vain attempt to free Izuku from the grasps of the villain, the demon’s futile attempts to scratch away at the slime, only resulted in their misty hands to pass through the slime like their hand was non-existent.

Fuck—If a damn hero isn’t going to save Izuku, then it has to be his demon’s duty to do so.

Though it’s quite challenging for (y/n) to grip Izuku’s shoulders and pull him forward, it doesn’t have enough energy to stall for time.

Was fate cursing (y/n) again? The sun was up high in the sky, yet it always deceived the unguarded and weakest of them all. Didn’t it? If it wasn’t for the saving grace of a frisbee object hitting the villain in the eye, the sludge villain recoiled backwards and (thankfully) released its hostage, where the boy’s limp body met face first into the pavement.

Staying close to Izuku’s unconscious body, (y/n) watched as the pro-hero blatantly invaded their owner’s space and didn’t hear their screeching of something along the words of “DISGUSTING!!!” and “AAAAAAAH BEGONE! BEGONE! BEGONE!!” And the boy wasn’t woken up because of the cheek slaps, it was because of (y/n)’s obnoxious protests of the pro-hero’s cheek slaps.

Let’s not forget the loudest sigh released by the demon when one, Izuku (finally) woke himself up, and two, when that (god forsaken flimsy, annoying, outrageous) hero, was actually the number 1 hero, has retracted his hand from the demon’s owner.

(And (y/n) definitely called the number one hero “a filthy maggot that is followed by an equally filthy contra-” before they were tuned out of Izuku’s ears.)

“Ah! Thought we lost you there!” Announced the hero (to nobody in particular).

This, unfortunately, caused Izuku to pale- where it practically looked like his whole face lost all of its colour, including his eyes- and for (y/n) to think (if they even have thoughts in the first place…) that if there was a camera pointed straight at their face, it would show the most horrifying deadpanned expression on the demon’s non-existent face which would break the camera lens.

Screaming and scampering backwards, Izuku only managed to utter the words “C-C-CAN I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH!!” before seeing his notebook (which was coincidently fish food a couple of minutes ago) signed by the hero and bowing to said hero out of gratefulness, although knowing their owner; (y/n) figured that Izuku would obviously cherish this autograph as a ‘family heirloom’.

(Izuku may or may not have blurted that out in the moment. Oh well. You can’t take everything you say back.)

“I have a question…” Murmured the green haired boy as the hero turned tail to “deliver this villain to the police station!” Sadly, the hero didn’t hear him and was about to leave the boy, where his demon was shaking their head in disappointment- “Why bother asking him?” Whispered (y/n), leaving the faint trace of their empty temperature to scarcely brush his cheek, “The man in front of you is a mere façade of bravery.” - it’s not like Izuku cares about his demon’s opinion.

Even when it’s in situations like this.

(And by situations, I mean when Izuku and his demon are clutching for dear life on the infamous hero’s legs when flying more than fifty feet above the ground.)

Looking below his feet, Izuku is always reminded that great power also has a greater price to it.

And well, All Might would probably agree (if it weren’t for being airborne).

Additionally, why did it look like you were enjoying him scream in fear for his life, when you know that if he dies, you die too.

(Was his demon secretly a sadist?!)

The landing was rocky and rough, but at least his feet managed to stand on their own after a few moments of wobbling and the small rub of your hand against his to beckon him to stand “tall and proud for being uniquely him”.

Glancing towards the hero, (y/n) scoffed in disgust at the retreating soldier whereas Izuku only begged him to “Wait,” continuing along with an unspoken prayer casted off to the sky and “one second!” to remain.

“No!”

It’s typical of a hero to say that word, but situations like this aren’t.

“I don’t have any time.” --- “I have to know!” --- “Why do you bother with him, Izuku?”

The years of quirklessness weren’t new to him. Though he wanted more.

“Even if everyone thinks I’m useless…” Izuku wanted more fulfilment for himself.

“Despite what anybody thinks.” (Y/n) wanted freedom for themself.

“I need to know.” The two of them had dreams.

“Is It possible to become a hero, without a quirk?” Even with a fearless grin, the man before the aftermath was the symbol of peace.

Well to put it simply, the embodiment of peace was secretly a human coat hanger. Now, how would the murky red demon and green haired boy react to said human coat hanger?

Uh…Yeah, they’re both screaming; Izuku was doing it out of horror, (y/n) was doing it out of disgust.

(This is a typical occurrence.)

“WHERE’S ALLMIGHT?!” The worn-down skeleton of a man looked like a couple of popsicle sticks were stuck together with Elmer’s glue as the artist called it a day. Looking left to right, then again, and finally- just for good luck- glanced left and right, as society always said, “Third time is the charm”.

“You! You’re not him!” Izuku profoundly screeched, where in fact both his demon and scrawny adult rolled their eyes. “Izuku, you don’t even have his birth certificate to prove that he—” Though poor (y/n) got cut off by Allmight proclaiming “You know how guys at pools like to suck in their muscles and flex at the same time?” The flaxen haired male then said “I’m kind of like that…” which did nothing to soothe the teenager’s shock.

“What! No! Allmight isn’t some scrawny—old—depressed looking human being!” Oh boy, your owner was as stubborn as an old mule.

“Izuku, stop what your—” Again, (y/n) was cut off by another person, “All Might’s is a hero with a fearless grin who beats every obstacle!”

“Kid, there’s plenty of fear behind a smile. Don’t be fooled.” The rustling of a white shirt caught the attention of the demon and human alike. And what it revealed…well…it was pretty nauseating.

“Pretty gross, isn’t it?”

The merged sickening stitching of skin pulled together in a makeshift attempt to preserve as the hero’s body, at the epicentre of the wound was a thick encircled glob of pink that seemed to allow an abundance of conjoined violet speckles to extend outwards in an attempt to infect the rest of his body.

“I got this in a fight around five years ago.” Relaxing his body, and moving the shirt downwards, the hero continued, “My respiratory system was destroyed, I lost my stomach, and the rest is history.” Even if his shitty joke didn’t lift the depressing tone of reality, all Izuku could do is stand there in shock—maybe a tad bit of horror— however he would’ve never thought that the one and only top hero of Japan had an injury!

(Izuku’s naïve thinking always rubbed his demon the wrong way sometimes.)

“W-wait! Does that mean Toxic Chainsaw gave you this injury!” Chuckling and turning his glance to the side, All Might shook his head. “I’m impressed, you know your stuff- however, that punk couldn’t land a couple hits on me, even if they wanted to.” “Most of the world wouldn’t have known about this fight, regardless of how much you dug through any news articles.”

(And most of the world would’ve never known about the deadly purple miasma growing on their precious hero’s body.) .

“This job isn’t easy, and to be nice—” At least Izuku would listen to All Might, whereas he ignored you at least 50% of the time, “—I think you would be better off picking a better profession, like a Police officer!”

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

“I mean he is right…” (Y/n) said to Izuku, as they continued their trek back home, with the boy loathful to agree at the red mist’s statement.

“Heroism isn’t easy.” Maybe he should give up his dream?

“You saw how disgusting his wound was.” He could be horribly injuried like All Might if he tries. “It’s practically oozing with miasma.” But Izuku can’t bring himself to give up his dream.

And if Izuku ever asked you to give up your dream of freedom, you would answer back with defiance.

“I know it isn’t easy (y/n).”

“I know I could die or get a wound like that.”

“But I��m not giving up on my dream, if you aren’t going to give up on yours.”

Alas, the gloriously golden sun highlighted the features of the old dusk that was soon turning into their new dawn.

(And might I say, if society got in their way, they will pay their dues the hard way.)

Taglist:

@glitterfreezed, @izukubabe, @sweater-weather-seven, @nyanyabisjjj, @quietlegends, @dragonsdreamoffire, @candybabey, @honeylavender13

CREDITS:

All content and art used within this story belongs to their respective owners. PLAGARISM WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!

Art credits: Dorki-C and @glitterfreezed

[MASTERLIST OF “My Guardian Demon”] [MAIN MASTERLIST]

#Izuku midoriya bnha #Izuku midoriya mha #Izuku midoriya #Izuku midoriya x y/n #Mha Au #Bnha au #Toshinori Yagi #Toshinori Yagi mha #All Might bnha #All Might mha #mha x reader #Mha x y/n #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #Izuku Midoriya X Reader

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whatiwillsay · 4 years

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hey! i love your blog and i've read the swiftgron masterpost. i'm kinda wondering what songs (you're pretty sure) are about dianna?

(also i think wanegbt is abt di but it's more of taylor poking fun of her and di's on/off rs rather than a "shady" breakup song. i kind of see some parallels between wanegbt and ayhtdws)

oh yessss last time i got this question it ripped the fandom asunder (kidding but you know people disagree w me)

ok let’s start with Red

SINCE I CLEARLY PROVED AND ESTABLISHED THAT SWIFTGRON WAS NOT ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED UNTIL SPRING OF 2012 BECAUSE BOTH LADIES SEEM TO BE INVOLVED WITH OTHER WOMEN UP UNTIL THAT POINT CLICK HERE FOR PROOF OF ALL OF THAT

it’s fair to say none of the breakup songs are about Dianna

state of grace mentions four blue eyes, a fire sign, and is a breakup song so not dianna

red = breakup song = not dianna

we know IKYWT was not about her because breakup song

taylor said treacherous was about the same person as IKYWT so we cannot claim that song (SADLY I WISH WE COULD IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL) All Too Well = written long before dianna was on the scene and a breakup song so not Dianna

22 = well her damn name is in the liner notes so this is the first song we can canonically claim for swiftgron nation yasssss

I almost do = break up = nope

we are never ever getting back together - this one i waver on. the indie record line is dianna to a T and it is very light-hearted and almost satirical song. i think it’s possible it was born out of silly tiff the two had, but one issue with claiming this for swiftgron nation is when taylor wrote the song in June the girls had not been separated for an entire month so the “we hadn’t seen each other in a month when you said you needed space line” would be sort of “inaccurate” (ofc it’s music/poetry so you know taylor could easily fudge that detail/use hyperbole in a song but still now that i know the timeline as well as i do i have to note that) - dianna did tweet about that song so perhaps she was claiming it, perhaps she was just celebrating her girl - i’m undecided here y’all tell me who it’s about

stay stay stay = i’ve heard it was written in 2010 but never seen a receipt. if it wasn’t then i would claim it. y’all tell me.

the last time = breakup song written just as swiftgron was happily ramping up in spring 2012 = not dianna

holy ground = breakup/reflective song written before swiftgron was together = not dianna (YES i KNOW about the note on the door with the joke they made but i think that’s a coincidence - the song was written before that party)

sad beautiful tragic = nope break up so not dianna

the lucky one = written either right before or right after they got together, supposed to be about joni Mitchell right? posssssibly inspired a bit by dianna’s experience in Hollywood? but i don’t think so. this was before she was written out of glee.

everything has changed = YEP swiftgron love ANTHEM. (i think it was originally written for liz with her Gemini status and green eyes but taylor flipped the lyrics and dianna tweeted that bitch the day red came out it’s HERS)

starlight = about the Kennedys but maybe a hint of the swiftgron early love story hidden in there begin again = swiftgron love anthem!!! come back... be here = swiftgron love anthem!

the moment i knew = no

girl at home = no

now for 1989

welcome to ny = not dianna but it’s a skip anyway so who cares? it’s a friendship song about appreciating the city and maybe hints of karlie

blank space = nope satirical reflective song

style = yes cam’s fav thankfully is a swiftgron anthem!!!

out of the woods = i used to think was a song ab bearding with harry but just last night while recording a pod ep i decided no it’s a swiftgron song! listen to it today click here

all you had to do was stay = yep and tbh (aside from babe) that’s as bad as it gets for our girl i personally think. taylor has dropped some absolute DISS TRACKS about exes and people she has beef with but dianna never got put on blast compared to mad woman, should've said no, dear john, among others

shake it off = nope and skip

i wish you would = yep about dianna driving by her house after they were broken up in fall of 2013

bad blood = i kind of do think this is about katy perry but it’s not about a business dispute idk i don’t know how to exactly explain but it’s a vibe

wildest dreams = song about karlie that she wrote through the lens of just having had a rough breakup with dianna “i can see it ends as it begins” she’s nervous at the start because she’s scared kaylor will end the same way, but in general it’s about karlie tho the hint of a swiftgron breakup is in the air

how you get the girl = yep about dianna (supposedly proposing tho tbh i don’t know if i believe that)

this love = yep about her and dianna reuniting in fall 2012 i know places = so i know supposedly kimby kloss liked a tweet that said it was about karlie (haven’t seen the receipt but whatever) but kaylors gotta pick blue or green eyes. dianna has green eyes. taylor starts singing about blue eyes when she gets with karlie, and also taylor writes the line “we are the foxes” i believe she had already written that line or had it planned out when she wore that stupid fox sweater when she was out with harry in nyc because she was planning on people tying that lyric back to that day and tie the song to harry because she’s insane like that:

so if she had already written the line at the time of this hangout the song is about dianna (or you know...harry if you’re into that but if you are why are you on this blog bye)

clean = yes swiftgron breakup anthem

wonderland = i think about kellie pickler

you are in love = about karlie but early drafts supposedly contained the lyric you were in love so maybe originally about looking back on her relationship with dianna but taylor firmly gave it to karlie with that Instagram post

new romantics = just about friends and fun and should have replaced welcome to ny

OTHERS:

babe obviously

and i think you can make differing strengths of arguments for other post 1989 songs but none i would lose sleep over someone telling me it wasn’t dianna

so it goes..., death by a thousand cuts, and the 1 are the ones i think there are the strongest arguments for

also i think lea michele’s songs battlefield and on my way are about her but who asked

also thank you for loving my blog this blog loves you back!

also to be clear i don’t know for sure who any songs are actually about let me make it clear that this is just my best guess and opinion

also the thing ab wonderland being about kellie pickler was a joke it’s obviously the loudest most obnoxious swiftgron song in existence

#Anonymous

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bellathechildbitch · 4 years

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Spending Quarantine with:

All might, Aizawa, and Present Mic HCS!

(I've read some with the students in 1-A but I haven't see one for my three little baby teachers so╮(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)╭ why not write one myself)

All Might/Toshinori Yagi:

💪🏻He would watch the news 24/7 ngl

💪🏻Cuz of his weak immune system he kinda does have a reason to be worried about this whole.... Situation

💪🏻When he doesn't have to do any hero work you two spend your days in bed just chilling, you know?

💪🏻Y'all find something to entertain yourselves with

💪🏻You guys would read to each other

💪🏻Most likely read all the books in your home and the only "book" you guys didn't read was the dictionary. You guys read it.. and learned new words

💪🏻Helping him with modern slang because y'all have plenty of time to do it now so why not 🤷🏻‍♀️

"Y/n.... What does "snatched my weave" mean?"

"Why do you need to know what that means...?"

"I sent a picture of us to Young Midoriya. And I forgot he didn't know we were together and he told me that his weave was snatched.....so his hair was fake this whole time.?But I couldn't of "snatched" it becau-"

"Toshi...it is just a slang word... That everyone uses now and days."

He smiled "Is that so? well then Y/n you have snatched my weave as well"

"TOSHINORI THAT'S NOT HOW YOU USE IT"

💪🏻He doesn't mind being inside for a long period of time he kinda enjoys it

💪🏻I can imagine him cleaning random things

"Why are you using a Clorox wipe to clean... The Clorox wipes...."

"well I have already cleaned everything else here."

You raise your hands in the air in defeat and slowly walk out

💪🏻In the evening time you would sit on the couch and he would lay his head on your lap and sometimes you would have music playing in the background or y'all just watch a movie

💪🏻Helping him with online work

💪🏻Pretty chill quarantine partner ngl

Eraserhead/ Shouta Aizawa:

🧶 Quarantine is like heaven for him????

🧶No students, no work, just peace and quiet.

🧶...

🧶until they started online school

🧶but before they started you guys would be in bed for a long time

🧶you👏best👏play👏with👏his👏hair👏while👏you👏guys👏are👏 cuddling 👏👏👏👏

🧶at one point during this quarantine you style his hair sometimes he just wears the hairstyle around the house. Sometimes he has a man bun, braids, ponytail,pigtails , even french braids.

🧶He would just love to lay in bed with you in his arms

🧶But sadly he can't get what he wants all the time

🧶 Sometimes while you are cleaning or something he would be in his Sleeping bag and just lay in random spots of ur guys house/apartment and u would trip over him

"Hey aizawa look at this cat video I saw on facebo-" THUMP

There you went face first on to the wooden floor

"Watch where your going...." He would say as he fell back asleep again

🧶He won't show it but he is worried for his students and he misses them D:

🧶He as well would be .... A really chill person to spend quarantine with

Present Mic/ Yamada Hizashi:

🔊 have fun being annoyed 25/8

🔊out of everyone you could of spent quarantine with you had to pick the loudest child ever......

🔊Hizashi doesn't want to be cooped up in a small house all day...

🔊that's boring as hell

🔊If you need to go to the store to get somethings you were running low on he would LITERALLY GO ON HIS KNEES AND BEG TO COME WITH YOUUU

"Alright Mic imma head ou-"

"PLEASE Y/N LET ME COME WITH YOUUUUUUU" he cried as he was on the floor holding your ankles like that was going to stop you from leaving

🔊He will be a happy little puppy when u let him go with u

🔊if you leave him behind he will sulk in the corner until u come back

🔊He does his radio show at home.

🔊Sometimes you are his special guest

🔊Him missing his student

🔊He sometimes would miss them so much he would start rambling about them

🔊Will pester you almost every five minutes

🔊The guy is just bored cut him some slack D:

🔊I wouldn't say he would be a chill person to spend quarantine with but more like.... Hmmm...... Interesting? No that's not it.....he is slightly obnoxious .... Eh he would be just obnoxious and a bit annoying

🔊JUST GIVE HIM SOMETHING TO DO AND U WILL BE OKAY

(first mha imagine hope it's good??? I didn't think so but who knows maybe u guys will enjoy it??? And the first gif isn't mine I found it on Pinterest so credit goes to the person who made it. Anyway stay safe, stay healthy and remember you are loved!!!! Good bye 💜💜💜💜 -Bella🖤)

#mha #mha imagines #present mic imagines #present mic #mha aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa imagine #my hero academia toshinori #toshinori headcanons #toshinori x reader #my hero academia #Eraserhead #hizashi yamada #all might

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numbjaw · 4 years

Text

Suspicious Minds

Prompt: Erasermic. I see you specialize in angst. Hizashi saves a woman and she ends up kissing Hizashi (who is with Shouta and he didn't kiss back) and it gets photographed. It circulates around UA before Hizashi finds out. Shouta finds out and breaks it off with Hizashi thinking he's cheating but doesn't say way to him. Class A is protective of Shouta and refuse to let Hizashi near him. Todoroki is the one who figured it out and they decide to help Hizashi win back Shouta. And it works. - phoenixtodoroki

Shoto Todoroki was too buried in his studies to get involved in the gossip huddle taking place towards the front of the classroom; it wasn’t that he didn’t notice, he just didn’t care. Through hushed tones and electrified whispers, he put together some clues: something about a photo and someone of notoriety ‘cheating’. Based on Tenya’s quietness, it probably wasn’t cheating of the academic kind.

With the League of Villains currently in retreat again, things in Musutafu had been pretty mundane and quiet lately - a so-called “purse-snatcher” week. It was really no wonder some celebrity scandal was fueling the interests of his classmates this morning; there simply wasn’t anything else to talk about.

Shoto continued to look through his notes, even as Aizawa came in and sent the rest of 1-A into a clumsy scramble back to their seats. Aizawa, of course, punished them for not being seated with one of his newest challenges: an entire hour of complete silence. And by silent, he meant silent. Anyone who made so much as an involuntary sneeze would have a lap added to gym class the following week, and more laps added for anything remotely resembling noise after that - absent-minded pencil-tapping and skipped-breakfast-stomach-growling included.

Personally, Shoto enjoyed Aizawa’s silence tests, priding himself a little on being the only student who hadn’t been given an extra lap so far. Even straight and narrow Tenya, Class Rep, had fallen victim to Aizawa’s strict practice when one of his pencils had accidentally rolled off of his desk and clattered to the floor. It must’ve haunted him quite a lot, because Shoto noticed that Tenya had now attached grips to his pencils - something they hadn’t seen since elementary school - to prevent them from rolling around.

This hour was different, though. Not a single student made a sound, but Shoto had a strange feeling that it wasn’t because they were seriously trying their best to avoid running laps. There was particular tension within the classroom, and only himself and Aizawa seemed to be outside of it. Had whatever gossip his classmates been on about that morning been that captivating? Man, it really was a boring week...

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

Nemuri Kayama watched as Hizashi yawned into the corner of the teacher’s lounge, one of his gloved hands clutching what had become his third cup of coffee that morning. It was a little more than his usual two, but nothing too out-of-the ordinary she supposed. Still, something about her fellow instructor seemed off lately.

Literally the loudest person in the entire school, maybe even the world, Hizashi had been a little less obnoxious lately. Tired, even. She wondered if this was the effect of dating Shouta Aizawa, a man who literally kept a sleeping bag folded under his desk.

“Long patrol last night?” She asked, to which Hizashi glanced wearily over his shoulder.

“Huh? Oh, something like that,” He answered with a little grin, despite his visible exhaustion that his sunglasses did little to conceal, “Nothin' too exciting though. How about you?”

“Oh, you know my nights are always exciting…” Nemuri winked, almost causing Hizashi to choke on his coffee.

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

By the end of the hour, Shoto was fairly sure he had every word in his notebook memorized. As long as Aizawa didn’t pull any “logical ruses” about what would be on the exam next week, Shoto was fairly confident that he had nothing to worry about.

Upon being excused, the silent treatment ignited 1-A into simultaneous, unintelligible blabbering, which made Shoto sincerely miss the quiet. But a few words overheard from Izuku and Ochaco caught his attention.

“Mr. Aizawa doesn’t know yet,” Izuku said.

“Deku! Are you sure?” Ochaco exclaimed, “What makes you think that?”

“Well, several things,” Izuku began, clutching his chin thoughtfully, “He acted completely normal, for starters. I know he’s really professional and calm no matter what’s happening, but this is something really personal to him. I really don’t think he would have punished us into a silent hour if he knew - that would have been the last thing he would have wanted. Instead, he would have wanted to be engaging with us, talking to us, keeping his mind off it…”

“That makes sense…” Ochaco said, “What do you think he’ll do when he does find out?”

Izuku sighed and looked down sadly. “That I don’t know…”

“Hey,” Shoto greeted, finally took an opportunity to step into their conversation, “Not trying to be rude, but what are you two talking about?”

Izuku looked up and Ochaco tilted her head.

“You don’t know?” She asked, to which Shoto shrugged.

“I wasn’t part of the class huddle this morning," He said matter-of-factly.

“That’s right…” Izuku remembered, before looking around carefully, “It’s about Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada.”

“What about them?” Shoto asked, though he felt he already had enough clues to guess. He just needed to confirm it.

“We think Mr. Yamada might be cheating on Mr. Aizawa,” Ochaco whispered, her tone as serious as it was concerned.

Shoto had to lean back slightly. So, his hunch had been right, the cheating scandal involved… their teachers? Oh man. Boring week aside, it was no wonder everyone had been so invested.

“Seriously?” was all Shoto could say as Ochaco handed him her phone.

On the screen was an image of Present Mic in his street clothes, lip-to-lip with a slender brunette in a pencil skirt, the blurred lights of the city outlining their features in what would have honestly been a beautiful photograph of a couple locked in an romantic, late-night embrace if it weren’t for the simple fact Yamada was supposed to be with Aizawa.

“No way,” Shoto breathed as he took in the photo, “Who took this?”

“Not sure. Mineta said he got it from a friend of his who was working downtown last Friday.”

Shoto’s brows lowered in suspicion. “How do we know it isn’t a lie? What if this was taken years ago?”

“Yeah, I thought that, too,” Izuku said quietly, “But look right here…”

Izuku pointed to the edge of a billboard in the photo, that, though a little out-of-focus, had an advertisement for a movie. Shoto squinted, unable to make out a date, only two characters, pointing up at a shooting star. It seemed familiar enough...

“That movie is in theaters right now,” Izuku said.

“Meaning this picture is definitely recent,” finished Ochaco.

Shoto felt a sudden pang of remorse for his homeroom teacher. Suddenly, it all made sense… but at the same time, it didn’t. At all.

Only students and staff at UA knew, but Aizawa and Yamada had been together for close to a year, having only gone public about it a few months ago. Obviously, no one within UA was surprised about it, but the tale of two opposite Pro-Heroes finding love sparked a tabloid firestorm for the first few weeks after they came out about it. Reception was positive, but mostly in that purposely-supportive-therefore-grossly-insincere kind of way, where more conservative sources questioned both the hook-up itself and the school; they were both UA teachers, after all. Though sparse, it was still enough for Principal Nezu to make a statement, quickly shutting down any claims of unprofessionalism in regards to staff relations at the school. After that, most of Japan generally didn’t care, other than Yamada’s radio fangirls and maybe Ms. Joke, who had finally figured out why Aizawa had always been so quick to shut down her not-always-joking advances. Still, she seemed to be their most genuine supporter of all, not shying away from teasing Yamada for ‘beating her to the punch’. Well, apparently Yamada had beaten her to the punch from the time they had both been students themselves at UA: half of their lifetimes together.

That’s why Yamada suddenly cheating on Aizawa didn’t make sense.

Shoto worriedly looked up to Izuku and Ochaco. “How many people did Mineta send this to?”

“Well, first he sent it to Ashido, who sent it to Aoyama, who then sent it to…” ブツブツブツブツブツブツブツブツ

Shoto spaced off as Izuku recited the entire order of recipients, who thankfully only seemed to be from Class 1-A. So far, anyway...

“We can’t let this get outside of our class,” Shoto said, “Not until we know the truth about it. I need you guys to help me contact everyone and find out where else this picture was sent.”

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

Shouta Aizawa could tell something strange was going on with his students. Not only did they, for the first time ever, all succeed in not making a sound, they had seemed to be mutually preoccupied with some kind of knowledge that he was unaware of. He threw out the idea of it being a possible seven-month early surprise birthday party right away. Thoughts of any anniversaries as a teacher or a Pro-Hero were also scrapped. There was literally nothing significant in April other than his upcoming anniversary with Hizashi, which he was certain his students had no knowledge of… unless Hizashi had said something.

Shouta felt himself smile as he sifted through the paperwork on his desk, a daydream of Hizashi sneakily getting their students in on some kind of surprise anniversary gift. It wasn’t completely irrational, Shouta figured.

But then again, when was love ever truly rational? If at all? He certainly had it bad for the Voice Hero...

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

Hizashi was trying his absolute best to avoid his fourth cup of coffee that day as he walked to his classroom, where 1-A would be gathering shortly. Shouta had already texted him a heads-up about how unusually they were behaving by actually… behaving. Hizashi joked about being a little grateful, considering the absolute lack of sleep he’d had the night before. Shouta had replied with something along the lines of knowing a good remedy for sleep, combined with a winking emoji, which made Hizashi forget all about his need for more coffee.

Yamada, Hizashi:

Don’t tease me at work like this

Read at 11:36 AM

Sho 🐱❤️:

Or what?

Yamada, Hizashi:

I might just need to have a private meeting with you

Read at 11:36 AM

Sho 🐱❤️:

I really enjoy meetings. ;-)

‘Again with the winky face?!’

Yamada, Hizashi:

Class is starting soon.

I’ll deal with you later.

Read at 11:38 AM

Sho 🐱❤️:

You better.

Tenya Iida was one of the first students in, as usual. But as Hizashi greeted him, he was met with a not-so-usual response: a very reserved “Morning” in lieu of his usually pitch-perfect “Good morning, Mr. Yamada!”

It only continued as more students almost seemed to cautiously shuffle into the room. Some of them neglected to even greet him at all, and probably most striking was how every single one of them sat at their desk and said absolutely nothing to each other.

“Sheesh, Shouta wasn’t kidding…” Hizashi thought. He hadn’t seen them like this since their first day at UA.

Hizashi cleared his throat and looked over the students thoughtfully. He was never one to break under a tough crowd. Whatever prank, scheme, or demonstration Class 1-A was on about today wouldn’t phase him. Clearly, they were all dead-set on silence today,maybe out of protest for Shouta’s continued push for it, so Hizashi would have to assure the next fifty minutes went exactly the opposite of quiet. His specialty.

Thinking quickly, he targeted Tenya first. No matter what was going on, he was certain the Class Rep would always have an opinion to declare - especially when it regarded ethics. Seeing as all of the instructors were collaborating on the exam, his lessons were crossing into Shouta’s, and vice-versa.

“Iida,” Hizashi started, “Can you tell the class the definition of a ‘vigilante’?”

Tenya stood up, though some hesitation was clear. “Vigilantes... are groups or individuals who act independently, usually attempting to perform the duties of Pro-Heroes, but outside of the law and without licenses. Despite acting in good faith… vigilantism is considered illegal.”

“That it is! Don’t let the Good Samaritan act fool ya,” Hizashi praised, as Tenya sat back down. He then noticed Tenya bowed his head, as if ashamed - but why? He’d answered perfectly. Was it because he answered anything at all? Was 1-A really attempting a silent protest? Not in Present Mic’s class. “Righty-o. So! Can any of you tell me what you should do if you encounter a vigilante out in the field?”

Silence and stillness. It was a hard-ball question, Hizashi supposed. Shouta’s so-called “problem child” Izuku Midoriya would probably be a good student to call on, Hizashi figured. The kid wasn’t so much as a goodie-two-shoes as he just genuinely wanted to excel whenever he could, even if it meant going against the grain from time to time. The perfect student, as far as Hizashi was concerned.

“Nothin’, huh? How about… Midoriya. Tell the crowd what you think you should do if you encounter a vigilante.”

Izuku mirrored Tenya’s hesitation, but eventually stood none-the-less. “They’re considered criminals… so maybe apprehend them, but...” Izuku said, before his eyes swept up at Hizashi, “It depends on the situation…”

Hizashi tilted his head. Why had Izuku said that so… directly? “Go on...?”

“Right,” Izuku murmured, then looked back down, “If a vigilante is encountered during an incident with a villain, you’d have to prioritize the villain over the vigilante. But, if a vigilante is assisting a citizen, it’s best to help, or at least take over if possible. And, I suppose if a vigilante is encountered alone, you should attempt to apprehend them, but no matter what the circumstance, you must contact the police as soon as possible.”

“Nailed it! That was a mouthful, though - y’all catch all that? I hope you did!” Hizashi sang, shifting through Aizawa’s notes. He really did hope the rest of 1-A had paid close attention, as Izuku had just supplied the exact correct answer to one of their upcoming exam questions. It was hard to tell, though. No one was asking questions about it. No one was asking for it to be repeated. No one was speaking unless called on. No one was even taking notes. Hizashi’s smile faded slightly.

“Can anyone name which statute that affected vigilantism?” He asked.

The weird tension in the room only seemed to thicken like humidity when Hizashi called on Momo Yaoyorozu, who wasn’t so much distressed, but rather… angry. Towards who or what, Hizashi had no idea, but it certainly wasn’t him… right?

“The Rhode Island New State Statute,” She said effortlessly, without even looking at Hizashi.

“How many vigilantes were affected?” Hizashi challenged, to which Momo met him with a glare.

“Over a hundred.”

Hizashi waved a finger at her. “Ah-ah. How many exactly?”

“You know, maybe you should answer that… how many others?” Momo said, “Or was it just the one?”

Hizashi tilted his head as the rest of 1-A looked to Momo in shock.

“Do you… not know?” Hizashi asked, looking over his sunglasses at Yaoyorozu.

“Oh, I know. We all know,” Momo muttered, before sitting down, looking as though she was close to crying. The rest of the class seemed to have absorbed her words, which seemed to affect Mineta the most as he down-right sunk into his seat.

On second thought, maybe 1-A was better off staying silent after all. Honestly, Hizashi hadn’t been so relieved for a class dismissal since he’d been a student himself. As soon as 1-A had finished filing outside, he texted Shouta immediately.

Yamada, Hizashi:

Yooooooooooooooooooooooooo

you were right! 1-A was OFF AF

Hizashi, mostly confused, tried not to think about why Shouta didn’t respond to him right away. What had Momo meant when she said ‘how many others’?

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

Shoto managed to catch Momo out in the hallway while Izuku and Ochaco got stuck behind a wall of students departing for lunch. She was still flustered, he noticed.

“That was a little harsh back there, don’t you think?”

“How was it harsh?” She shot back, “The guy’s a total sleazebag, cheating on Mr. Aizawa like that!”

“Keep your voice down,” Shoto warned, “This’ll only get worse if it spreads.”

“Well, maybe it should,” Momo argued, “He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this.”

Shoto looked over his classmate sympathetically. He understood her pain well, as they had both developed a special bond with Aizawa after the final exams; just the idea of someone trying to hurt their teacher made his left side want to ignite.

“Look, I’m not disagreeing, but whether it’s true or not, we owe Mr. Aizawa his privacy. Can you imagine the media circus if that picture gets outside of our school?”

Finally, Momo’s dark eyes softened with the realization of the matter; she couldn’t imagine how downright embarrassed, ashamed, and angry Shouta would feel if that image of his boyfriend got plastered over every tabloid imaginable, along with pictures of him, and maybe even UA...

“You’re absolutely right, Todoroki… I’m so sorry,” She sighed, and calmed herself, a familiar confidence returning to her eyes. “What do we do?”

“First, we need to convince everyone else to delete the picture off their phones. Deku and Uraraka are already working on that part. I was thinking about tracking down Mineta’s friend, the one who took it in the first place, and find out if they sent it to anyone else other than Mineta. Maybe even get a little more context behind it, too.”

“Todoroki…” Momo realized, “You... really don’t think Mr. Yamada cheated, do you?”

“I just don’t want to believe that he actually did,” Shoto sighed, “So, will you help us out?”

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

Yamada, Hizashi:

Yooooooooooooooooooooooooo

you were right! 1-A was OFF AF

Read at 12:08 PM

It was late in the evening. Hizashi’s once-mild concern over being left on read had graduated to a storming panic. It was absolutely unlike Shouta not to text him back unless something bad had happened; their status as both Pro Heroes and teachers at UA doubled this chance, and, of the two of them, it was usually Shouta who wound up hurt. Hizashi personally wasn’t sure if his heart could handle another hospital visit. Stomach continuing to knot, Hizashi attempted another text.

Yamada, Hizashi:

Getting kinda worried. You ok?

Shouta didn’t make him wait any longer, which normally would have been a relief if it weren’t for the single word that he replied with.

Sho 🐱❤️:

No.

Yamada, Hizashi:

What’s wrong?

Sho 🐱❤️:

You should know.

Hizashi swallowed a growing lump in his throat as his exchange with Momo Yaoyorozu that morning rang out in his head.

“Do you… not know?”

“Oh, I know. We all know.”

Yamada, Hizashi:

???

I have no idea

Did I forget something again?

Sho 🐱❤️:

It would seem.

Yamada, Hizashi:

Can’t be our anniversary, that’s next week... :)

Can I have a hint?

Read at 8:40 PM

Yamada, Hizashi:

Sho?

Read at 8:47 PM

Yamada, Hizashi:

talk to me!

Read at 8:52 PM

Yamada, Hizashi:

I honestly have no idea what’s wrong. But I’ll make it right, whatever it is. Don’t leave me in the dark, Sho. Please?

Hizashi’s thumb hesitantly hovered over the call option on the phone screen, but he refrained, chalking it up to a really weird day. Maybe Shouta just needed to sleep off whatever it was, Hizashi thought, as he went on to wonder what exactly he had forgotten about that had made Shouta react as he did.

What had he forgotten? Shouta’s birthday was November 8th… right?

Suddenly, Hizashi wasn’t really sure about anything.

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

Touma Okamura was the childhood friend of Mineta and also the spark of what was becoming a wildly-growing forest fire for UA. Despite the best efforts of Shoto, Izuku, Ochaco, and Momo, it had seemed news of Present Mic’s after-school activities had already leaked outside of their class, and possibly UA. It was only a matter of time before Aizawa found out, if he hadn’t found out already. For Shoto, it was more important than ever to get the context behind the damn picture, which would hopefully stomp out the flames before the smoke was noticed by the press.

Shoto was pleased that Momo had decided to join himself, Izuku, and Ochaco on the trip into the city. The location of the photo was right outside of a gaudy souvenir store in Downtown Musutafu. It was a constantly-busy, loud area of town that never seemed to sleep or be without traffic. Shoto felt his stomach turn a little when he saw the movie billboard from the photo, “Lost Stars”, prominently displayed on a nearby rooftop. And just below, Touma, wearing a work apron.

Touma was similar to Mineta in nature: immature, rather small and squirrely, but with a Quirk that was similar to Ojiro’s - a large tail, but more lizard-like, striped with green and brown scales.

“Thanks for meeting with us,” Izuku said, as Touma just nodded, looking more bored if anything.

“No biggie,” Touma said, “Mineta gave me a heads-up about you. But just so you know, I only have five minutes before I have to get back, so I gotta make this quick. What’d you wanna know?”

“For starters… just what was going on before and after you took that picture of Present Mic,” Shoto said, crossing his arms.

Touma looked up at the sky as he recalled back. “I had a late shift that night. Got out around 9PM. I was on my way out and when I saw Present Mic and that lady. Actually took me a second to recognize it was him, and once I did I wanted to get a picture… and that’s pretty much when they kissed.”

“When you say they kissed… did it seem… mutual?” Momo asked carefully.

Touma shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean, he didn’t exactly stop her.”

“How long did it last?” Ochaco asked, and Shoto took notice of Izuku beginning to blush slightly.

“Eh, not long. Maybe only a second and she went on her way. He kinda stood there a minute watching her before walking the other way. It was pretty weird now that I think about it.”

“Did Mic seem… okay?” Shoto pressed, knowing they were running low on time.

“I don’t know. He seemed fine to me. Maybe a little confused, but fine.”

“Okamura. Why did you send the picture to Mineta?” asked Izuku.

“Because it was funny,” Touma explained, grinning in a way that definitely explained his friendship with Mineta, “I knew Present Mic was one of his teachers, and come on, that lady was super hot. I knew Mineta would get a kick out of it!”

“He’s going to get a kick out of it, alright,” Shoto muttered, as Momo glanced at him worriedly.

“Did you send the picture to anyone else?” Ochacho asked, to which Touma shook his head.

“Nope,” Touma started, “I mean, I posted it on my feed, but I didn’t tag Present Mic in it or anything.”

“Wait. You… posted it… online?” Shoto asked slowly.

“Yeah. Like, I only have maybe a hundred followers? That’s not many at all. Practically nobody else saw it. I’m kinda underground, you know?”

Shoto had to step away.

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

Hizashi awoke to a loud knocking at the door. He blinked wearily in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window, unsure as to when he had managed to fall asleep or, more so, how. Before Hizashi could check his phone, he answered the door, somewhat surprised to see Shouta standing there.

“Hey,” He smiled at first, until realizing Shouta didn’t look too pleased and was cradling a cardboard box.

“You said you wanted a hint,” Shouta said coldly, shoving the box into Hizashi’s arms, “Hopefully this will suffice.”

With great alarm, Hizashi realized all the contents inside the box were things of his that he had either gifted to Shouta or things of his that he had left at Shouta’s apartment, and Shouta was now walking away.

“Shouta, wait, I don’t understand what I did!” Hizashi called after him, setting the box down at the doorstep and running after the fellow instructor, who was making a beeline for the nearest stairwell, “Shouta!”

“Stop,” Shouta said, pausing halfway down the stairs, “Stop treating me like a fool. It won’t work.”

“I’m… not…” Hizashi trailed off, “Shouta -”

“Stop calling me that,” said Shouta, “We’re done.”

“I…” Hizashi said quietly, “Hold up a second, would ya…? I seriously don’t understand what I did…”

“If that’s really true,” Shouta said, “Then we really have nothing else to talk about.”

“Sh - Aizawa…” Hizashi tried, but it was as if he had suddenly swallowed a razor blade. Was Shouta using his Quirk on him? No, his eyes weren’t red. They were hurt.

“Going forward, I’ll maintain a professional relationship with you - but only for the sake of our students. I’ll expect you to do the same. Goodnight, Yamada.”

“Aiz…”

Shouta was already gone, leaving only the echoes of his quickened footsteps behind. Hizashi lost track of time again, standing at the top of the stairwell until the sun left the sky. Was this a nightmare? It certainly felt like one. Actually, no. Nightmares felt real. This didn’t feel real. Only the ache of his legs and the cold breeze felt real.

Hizashi walked very slowly back to his apartment, unable to stop thinking about the way Shouta had looked at him. The box was still on his porch, and within it was everything that apparently reminded Shouta of him. Hizashi heavily debated whether or not to take it inside or just throw it off the balcony, eventually deciding to take it in, hoping it was all a nightmare, or that it was some kind of cruel prank, or some strange spell Shouta and their students had fallen under…

Strange spell...

Hizashi found his phone, not surprised to find a text from Shouta telling him he was on his way to drop off his stuff. He swiped past it, then opened a search engine instead.

“Quirks that make someone break up with you for no reason”

A definition of Quirks popped up, followed by several Cosmopolitan articles.

“Break up quirks”

Several ‘breakdown’ lists of quirks, missing the phrase ‘up’.

“Quirks that erase love”

Hizashi should have known better, as the keywords ‘quirk’ and ‘erase’ brought up a slew of Eraserhead results, including his favorite picture of Shouta - a press shot of him in his Hero gear, demonstrating his capture weapon. Shouta hated the picture, just as he hated every picture of himself, but Hizashi loved it.

He loved Shouta.

Just what the hell had he done?

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

“Present Mic’s Newest Gig - Has Eraserhead Been Erased?”

The headline and accompanying picture was inescapable. It was on every social media feed, television, jumbo-tron, and grocery store newsstand in Japan.

Despite this, Aizawa still showed up to school, on time and on schedule, looking as he often did - disheveled and tired. It was a little comforting, Shoto thought at first, though the toll of the breakup going viral made itself known in other ways, such as Aizawa acting far more apathetic than usual. He called on literally anyone who raised their hand, even if it was the same students over and over. When provided a wrong answer, he didn’t probe too hard for the correct one like he usually did, simply stating the correct answer himself before moving on, voice monotone and passionless. Well, more monotone and passionless. He allowed Katsuki to doodle something that remotely resembled Deku with his hair on fire, while Denki and Eijiro passed notes (as if they didn’t have cell phones) and, probably most profoundly, allowed Rikido to sleep in class.

Shoto exchanged worried looks with Momo, who also seemed to have noticed their teacher’s unusual lack of spirit as well. Shouta Aizawa was running on auto-pilot, pushing himself to teach while his personal life was being put on blast by every seedy media corporation in the world.

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

Class 1-A, with the exception of Shoto, Izuku, Ochaco, and Momo, seemed pleasantly surprised to find Midnight standing at the podium in English class. Unlike Aizawa, news of the picture had apparently sent Yamada into hiding.

“Mr. Yamada is home sick today, so I’ll be taking over for him,” Kayama explained, careful not to give away too much, “After lunch, you’re all to return back here for Art History. I’d rather not have to shuffle my things between two classrooms if I don’t have to, so I’ll shuffle all of you instead. Work smarter, not harder… depending on what you’re doing, anyways.”

Minoru Mineta made a semblance of a wheeze, one of his first signs of life since the scandal had begun. He’d been unusually quiet otherwise, probably sensing he’d made a mistake by carelessly circulating the photo throughout the school and not having the foresight to stop Touma from posting it to social media before it was too late.

Kayama did her best to get through Yamada’s “ineligible” notes, mostly sticking to having them read from a book written entirely in English. But just like Aizawa, they could sense she was somewhat unfocused and troubled, checking her phone far more than usual.

Once 1-A was dismissed for lunch, however, all Hell broke loose.

Shoto wasn’t sure who had spotted Mr. Yamada first, but a majority of the students had already cornered him in a hallway near the entrance. For being a Pro, Yamada looked positively startled and broken, his usual spike of hair hanging in uneven locks around his face.

“You know, if you’re sick, you shouldn’t be here,” said Katsuki, arms crossed as he stared at his teacher defiantly.

Shoto knew that tone of voice and his heart leapt; sometimes Katsuki was an even bigger hothead than his damn father was, but he wasn’t dumb enough to go head-to-head with a teacher on school grounds, was he? It seemed as though Izuku picked up on this as well, as Shoto spotted him trying to rush up to the front of the stand-off where Katsuki was.

“Yeah. Go home, Mr. Yamada,” agreed Eijiro, stirring up the other students, some of whom were outside of 1-A.

Before Shoto and Izuku could attempt to break up the line and share what they had learned from Touma, a very loud and very obvious voice, second only to Mic himself, broke out over the crowd.

All Might, dressed in his sunflower-yellow pinstripe suit, rushed beside Yamada in a cloud of smoke that generated solely from how fast he’d appeared, and looked out over the student body, smiling like usual, like there wasn’t a single thing wrong in the entire world.

“Mr. Yamada, a quick word?” All Might said, knowingly stepping between Yamada and the students, before a rush of wind shot out over their heads.

Just like that, All Might had swept Yamada out of the scene. In his wake, a small form appeared - Principle Nezu.

The atmosphere changed immediately as he looked over them, usual tea cup in hand.

“Students, shouldn’t you all be in the cafeteria?”

No arguing with that.

As they re-routed to the cafeteria, Shoto couldn’t help but think of how calculated the teacher’s rescue operation had been. Geez, what had Yamada been thinking, coming on property at a time like that? There was no way he’d get anywhere near Mr. Aizawa, not if Class 1-A had anything to do about it.

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

The teacher’s lounge was thankfully empty as Toshinori escorted a very distraught Hizashi inside.

“Would you like a coffee, or tea?” Toshinori asked, to which the other blonde simply shook his head ‘no’.

Toshinori took to the couch across from Hizashi, whom he hadn’t seen look this bad since an incident during his Bronze Age days. But at least those had been the kind of wounds that could be healed by Recovery Girl.

“I thought it was all bad enough,” Hizashi said after a while, “but now the entire school seems to hate me, too…”

“They don’t hate you,” Toshinori said, though he knew his words weren’t exactly convincing, “They’re simply suffering from the same amount of ignorance as Mr. Aizawa is.”

Hizashi forced a small laugh, but returned to leaning on his knees and staring at the floor. “I just can’t believe they’d believe it so easily. Well, no. That’s not true. I get the kids. But Shouta…? Smartest guy I know… how could he doubt me so much, y’know?”

“Haven’t you talked to him?”

“I’ve tried to. Several times. But he’s blocked me on just about everything you can be blocked on. Even our work email, somehow. That’s why I was going to try to catch him today, during lunch. Didn’t expect the entire student body to tell me otherwise, but yeah, here we are... I just want him to hear me out, for five minutes. That’s all it would take to explain to him that I have no idea who that girl even was and that she kissed me because I’d got her purse back from some crook! It all happened so fast that I wasn’t even sure it happened at all. I seriously didn’t even remember it until the tabloids came out… ughh, I can’t believe this…”

Toshinori watched as Hizashi ran his hands through his hair, yanking the strands up in frustration.

“Well, maybe I can have a word with Mr. Aizawa?” Toshinori offered.

“Ha,” laughed Hizashi, “Good luck. He won’t hear anyone out. Not me, not Ken, not even Midnight… they’ve all tried but he just gives them this generic ‘please don’t talk to me about personal matters at work’ crap!”

The door opened, signaling the arrival of Principal Nezu, who seemed a little less-than-enthused, to say the least. Hizashi and Yagi greeted him, but he strode past them to look out the window quietly.

“It seems that even our students are buying into what the press is selling…” Nezu pondered aloud, “And if our students believe it, then that’s the only truth that will matter.”

Hizashi watched as Principal Nezu turned to look at him. “Mr. Yamada, I understand this is a personal matter for yourself and Mr. Aizawa, but if it’s going to affect UA in this way then I must ask you both to come to a clear resolution immediately.”

“Tell Aizawa that.” Hizashi remarked, folding his arms.

“I already have, and he says he’s already requested professionalism from you. I’m sorry for how things are, truly, but you’re going to have to abide by this request or I’ll be forced to… restructure.”

“You mean you’ll fire me?”

“That’s not what he said, Yamada.” Toshinori cut in.

“All Might - please…” Principal Nezu took the last sip of his tea, then cleared his throat, “Mr. Yamada, there are many other schools who could… appreciate what you have to offer.”

“Tch…” Hizashi just nodded his head, mostly in disbelief.

“Have a good rest of your day, both of you,” Nezu said.

No sooner than the door closed, Hizashi stood up slowly. “I think… I’m gonna head home. Think about things. Say, Yagi. If you do happen to chat with Aizawa… ask him if there’s anything of his he wants back. Catch ya later, I guess...”

Toshinori could only watch on as Hizashi sauntered towards the door. He grit his teeth.

‘I’m sorry, Mr. Yamada, but I’m not going to ask him that.’

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

Izuku felt as though he was underwater, too lost in thought over the situation with his teachers to really hear any of the talking going on around him. Eventually, a concerned voice caught his attention - Ochaco’s.

“Deku, aren’t you going to eat?”

Izuku looked down at his plate, finally realizing that he hadn’t touched it yet.

“I… don’t really feel hungry…” Izuku answered slowly, before looking up suddenly. “I need to go. I’m sorry. I’ll catch you in class, alright?”

“Deku, wait!”

Izuku left behind his tray, Ochaco, and the cafeteria. Maybe it wasn’t too late to catch Present Mic and ask him for his truth himself, like Shoto had suggested. Without thinking, Izuku burst into the teacher’s lounge, only finding a startled Toshinori Yagi.

“Young Midoriya!” He exclaimed, smoke puffing around him as he took his Hero form, “Students are not allowed in the faculty lounge, you know!”

“All Might - where is Mr. Yamada?” Izuku asked, though even he had to admit it sounded more like a demand, “I need to talk to him about something.”

“And what would that be?”

“The picture!” Izuku said, “Todoroki, me, and few others… we don’t think it’s what everyone is hyping it up to be. We just want to hear Mr. Yamada out.”

All Might paused, reverting back to his true form, then turned to Izuku.

“I think I may be able to help...”

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

That evening, Toshinori watched uneasily as Shouta poured himself shot after shot of whiskey; what had once been a brand new bottle was steadily falling under the halfway-mark, and Toshinori had yet to pour any for himself. He knew Shouta needed this, though. Not the alcohol, but what it provided: an escape from the situation. If it weren’t for his duty to Class 1-A, Toshinori was pretty sure that Shouta would have left the country by now. So Toshinori merely allowed his friend to imbibe, but only within reason... reason that was quickly reaching a limit.

Shouta was dead-set on gaining the Don’t-Give-A-Fuck Quirk that alcohol so easily provided. He’d repay Toshinori for the bottle later and do penance for his sins with what would surely be the worst hangover on record the next day. Just so long as he could forget how to feel for a while. Forget the picture. Forget Hizashi. Forget the world.

Shouta reached for the bottle again, but found a large hand suddenly placed over his own. He stared at it, struggling to focus, then realized it was Toshinori’s. He glanced up at the other man, confused.

“You might want to slow down between shots,” Toshinori advised, with a polite smile that Shouta suddenly felt drawn to.

Wouldn’t that be something, Shouta thought drunkenly as he took in the rest of Toshinori, sitting so closely beside him. Wouldn’t that be just the thing to end the tale of him and Present Mic - for him to instead be with All Might. Toshinori wouldn’t cheat on him. He was too valiant, too kind, too...

Toshinori recognized the shift in Shouta’s eyes way too late; it was only a second, but Shouta had already moved in for a kiss. It took a lot for Toshinori to turn away from him. Aside from looking like an absolute hermit, Shouta had always been really beautiful to him, with a heart too big than he let on. But that heart was shattered right now and Shouta was drunk on half a bottle of whiskey.

“I’m sorry,” Toshinori breathed as he clenched his fists.

Shouta didn’t ask why. He just turned away and fell quiet again, his long dark hair falling over his face like a curtain. After a moment, Toshinori heard the sound of the bottle scraping off the coffee table and the sound of liquid being poured into a glass again.

“I think you should stop, now…” Toshinori said hesitantly.

“You won’t let me kiss you and now you won’t let me drink,” said Shouta, and Toshinori wasn’t sure if he had meant to say it out loud.

“Because I think you’ve had enough, Aizawa.”

“Aizawa…” Shouta repeated mockingly, chuckling to himself. He’d had enough, alright.

“Shouta,” Toshinori corrected, his voice settling back down to it’s more natural state, “I know things are stressful for you right now. As someone who was in the media spotlight nearly their whole career, I know how... intrusive it can be. But I promise it’s temporary. It’ll blow over as soon as the next thing happens. You just need to ride out the storm.”

“I’ve been riding it out,” Shouta argued, “And when it blows over - what then? I’ve still lost my best friend. Hm. Figures. It’s all I ever seem to do...”

Toshinori swallowed hard, understanding that Shouta was referencing Oboro Shirakumo, whom he had lost in an accident back in their high school days. Before Toshinori could even articulate how to respond to that, Shouta rose up from the couch suddenly.

“We never should have done it,” Shouta began, “I knew it would ruin our friendship. I told him it would. But he said he loved me, Toshinori. And I believed him, and we…”

Toshinori watched as Shouta cringed from a memory that he would never know of. He wanted to hug his friend, badly, but he knew Shouta would probably react in a way that wouldn’t be easy to reject. Toshinori wasn’t sure if he’d be able to deny Shouta another kiss. But for the sake of Hizashi, Shouta, and their students, Toshinori kept his distance, allowing Shouta to pace back and forth across his living room instead.

“I was an idiot, you know,” Shouta continued, “I had suspicions about him for months…”

“O-Oh?”

“Lying about where he’d been, constantly tired, smelling like women’s perfume…” Shouta said of Hizashi, “And I never questioned him. Not once. Do you know why? Because love turns you into a completely irrational fucking idiot.”

Toshinori didn’t know how to react to Shouta’s sudden outpouring of information; he knew Shouta wasn’t lying, he had no reason to, but he also knew that Hizashi wasn’t that type of guy. He was eccentric, funny, and loud - God, was he loud - but he wasn’t some heartless playboy. He openly gushed over Shouta every chance he got. He played songs for Shouta over the radio every single night. He was Shouta’s best friend for over a decade before they finally realized there was something a little more than friendship going on, a friendship that Toshinori knew neither of them would throw down the drain for something that hadn’t been substantial.

“I think that may be your problem, my friend,” said Toshinori finally.

Shouta stopped pacing and smirked. “And what’s that, Yagi? That I’m an idiot? You can say it. No need to keep playing shy. Tell me the truth. Tell me I’m an idiot.”

“No, though you are acting like one right now,” Toshinori said, “Your problem is that you never questioned Yamada, one way or the other. You never asked him yourself what was going on. You only assumed as much.”

Shouta suddenly glared, eyes flashing red, his hair rising from off of his shoulders, “Are you suggesting that I should have? He only would’ve denied it. He acted like he had no idea what I was talking about, and now that it’s on every single news site and he hasn’t bothered to say a single word to me in person.”

“That’s because the students haven’t let him get near you,” Toshinori finally revealed.

Shouta’s gaze changed back to normal and his hair fell back into place. “...what?”

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

Shoto felt exhausted by the scandal that never seemed to end. His fellow classmates seemed to feel the same. Everyone missed how things had been before - before their teachers were estranged and unfocused. The rumor floating around about Present Mic possibly being transferred to another school was met with a strange reception, too: some were happy about it, but despite everything, a good few were upset. It seemed as more time had gone on, more of their classmates had started to feel as he did, that Yamada actually hadn’t done anything wrong and that it was a total misunderstanding.

But how could they prove it, other than the word of Mineta’s idiot friend who had started the entire thing to begin with? Aizawa wasn’t having any of it, plain and simple. Shoto had tried to talk to him and he’d been shut down quicker than the time Aizawa had stopped Izuku from throwing a baseball.

It wasn’t until Izuku pulled him aside and informed him of the first promising news he’d heard since everything had begun: Izuku had gained some information from All Might, who had apparently had a little heart-to-heart with Aizawa after school hours, which revealed much more to the situation.

Aizawa wasn’t reacting based solely on a picture or the ensuing tabloids, as everyone had originally thought. He was reacting to several months-worth of suspicions over Yamada, who apparently had been very secretive over his whereabouts and even smelled like perfume at times. The revelation made Shoto’s stomach tense up. Had he been wrong, then? Had Mr. Yamada really cheated after all?

The only way to truly know was to ask Mr. Yamada himself.

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

“We came because we wanted to get your side of the story.” Shoto said to Present Mic after the rest of the class had filed out. Only himself and Izuku had stayed behind.

“Why? Gossip well getting empty on you?” Yamada sneered, pretending like the paperwork on his desk was more important; most of the pages were blank, Shoto noticed.

“No, Mr. Yamada. We… sincerely just want to hear you out. We don’t believe all the tabloids or what everyone else is saying. We don’t think you cheated on Mr. Aizawa,” said Izuku.

“Then that makes two people on the entirety of planet Earth,” Yamada huffed, “Honestly, after being drowned in this for a week, I’m starting to think I really did.”

“Well, did you?” Shoto said, voice firm.

“‘Course I didn’t! That picture - that lady - I have no idea who she even was.”

“But… she’s kissing you…”

“Yes, yes, yes, because I was able to stop some jerk from stealing her purse. She was so grateful about it that she decided to jump up and smooch me - pfft, it was so quick that I forgot it even happened.”

“No wonder you were so confused when Mr. Aizawa dumped you…”

“Ya think?! And of course when I saw the picture on the news it finally clicked. But thanks to good ol’ 1-A, I couldn’t get two seconds to explain myself to him. And he’d already blocked me on everything. My only outlet was my radio show, but my producers put me on a leave of absence so I couldn’t get the word out that way either. I was really tempted to just start screaming about it from a rooftop, loud enough for him and all of Japan to hear me, buuuut that’d probably lose me my license… then again, I’ve pretty much lost everything anyways, so what would it matter? I’m kidding! Sort of.”

Shoto and Izuku glanced towards the door, where they saw Toshinori give them a thumbs-up.

Shoto cleared his throat. Stay focused. “What were you doing downtown that night, anyways? You weren’t in costume, so it definitely wasn’t Patrol, and it was too early for your radio show… and far.”

Yamada removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, “You won’t believe me… ah, but what’s new? That was because of a side-gig I picked up about two months ago.”

“Side-gig?”

“I was washing dishes, alright?!”

“Is that code for -”

“Midoriya. No, it’s not code for anything. I was li-ter-ally washing dishes at Tonkatsu.”

“Tonkatsu? The ramen shop? Why?” Izuku asked the obvious.

“Because it’s my favorite hobby, on top of teaching you little annoyances, screaming at would-be villains, and running a radio show every night until 5am,” Hizashi said sarcastically, “To earn extra cash, duh.”

“Extra cash? For what?” asked Izuku.

“Sheesh. You kids really ought to stick to Hero work instead of detective work...” Yamada said as he fished out a small box from his jacket pocket.

“Mic -”

“This,” Yamada said, flipping open the ring box to reveal a sleek, tungsten engagement ring.

“You were going to propose to Mr. Aizawa…!” Izuku marveled, before clasping a hand over his mouth. Crap. Aizawa was right outside the door with Toshinori. Had he overheard that?

“Glad I didn’t have to explain that part, too,” Yamada teased, before sighing and tucking the box away.

“I don’t understand, why didn’t you just tell Mr. Aizawa that you picked up another job instead?” Shoto asked.

“Because he would’ve figured it out! Just like he figured out every single other thing I tried to surprise him with! When I got the idea to propose, I knew I had to be sneaky about it or he’d catch on! I just thought he might be a little smarter and know it wasn’t because I was freaking cheating on him! I guess I gave Eraser too much credit…”

Izuku jabbed Shoto with his elbow suddenly.

“U-Um. What about the perfume?” Shoto asked.

“Perfume?” Yamada repeated.

“Mr. Aizawa said you came home a few times, smelling like women’s perfume…” Shoto asked, feeling awkward as he did so.

“Did he honestly tell you guys that? As a class? Wow, he really does hate me now, doesn’t he?”

“So it’s true?” questioned Izuku, doing well to hide the fact they were the only two students from 1-A who knew, and only due to All Might letting Aizawa drink himself into a practical coma.

“Ugh. Yes, okay? But it wasn’t because I was cuddling up to some no-name lady during my dishwashing gig. It was a… personal thing…”

Shoto looked to Izuku unsurely, then back to Yamada. No way Izuku was going to ask the weird questions. Shoto cleared his throat, biting the bullet. “Do you... like smelling like a woman?”

“NO!” Hizashi boomed, his Quirk slightly blowing both Izuku and Shoto’s hair back.

“I’m gonna spit this out as quick as I can and then I’m done playing Sherlock with you two, ya dig? One time Aizawa and I planned a sort’ve - I don’t know - picnic-y thing…”

“That’s ah... cute…” tried Izuku, voice cracking. Shoto wanted to smack his own head.

“Shuddap! It was very impromptu,” Yamada said, crossing his legs, “So much so, that we didn’t realize a freak storm was rolling in and wheeeew - before we knew it, we were being doused in rain. It was so heavy that we had to stay underneath a tree for almost two whole hours until it finally let up enough for us to bounce. By the time we got home, we both had this… I dunno, earthy, rainy smell going on? Then Shouta made fun of my hair, which was totally ruined. He said I looked like a ‘sad daffodil’, so I told him he looked like a komondor. You know - that dog that looks like a literal mop? And then… he just started laughing.”

‘Mr. Aizawa laughing…? Why is that such an unsettling thought?’ Both Izuku and Shoto thought.

“I mean, I could’ve sworn I swapped Quirks with Ms. Joke for a second because I’d never made him laugh that much in my life… and ever since, I started checkin’ this perfume store next door to Tonkatsu for something resembling the rainy smell from that day.”

“The day you made him laugh,” Izuku echoed.

“Yeah. Never did find that smell again, not that it really matters that much anymore…” Hizashi sighed, before standing, “So, are we done here or -”

He trailed off, as he noticed Shouta standing at the door, mouth parted slightly in shock.

“Hizashi… is all of that true?” Shouta asked.

After a moment of shock, Hizashi fought back a sad smile. “‘Course it is, dummy. You really think I’d throw us away for anyone else?”

Shouta looked down, and Shoto noticed a slight trembling on his teacher’s shoulders that didn’t seem to be from his capture weapon.

“I’m… sorry,” Shouta murmured, “I acted completely irrationally. I should have spoken with you about it, instead of...”

Izuku watched a shift in Hizashi’s face and he glanced at Shoto worriedly. Shoto looked back, equally unsure if they were being rude by staying. Just when they got the thought to sprint to All Might and leave the two instructors in peace, Hizashi suddenly got down on his knee before Shouta and withdrew the box from his jacket once again.

“You said it yourself once,” Hizashi said as he gently opened the box, “Love isn’t rational. Makes even the smartest people stupid. Surprise, by the way.”

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

Gym class was brutal.

Well, at least for everyone except for Izuku, Ochaco, Shoto, and Momo.

It was especially brutal for Mineta, who had… somehow… earned an extra 20 laps around the track that he was expected to finish within the period.

As most of 1-A jogged along the track, Shoto glanced down from the bleachers at Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada, who stood side-by-side, observing, smiling, and sometimes even laughing - about what was anyone’s guess - but it was nice to see them somehow closer than they were before, and that UA was back to normal.

Shoto looked to Izuku, who was looking worriedly at the track.

“Hey, what’s your deal?” Shoto asked him, “Do you feel guilty or something?”

“Yes,” Izuku admitted, “It feels weird just sitting here while everyone else has to run.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, Midoriya,” Momo said, sunglasses on and feet propped up on the bench beside them. Ochaco mirrored her.

Shoto smirked at the girls and looked back at the track, where Mineta was visibly wearing down and practically sobbing as he struggled to keep running.

“Only 14 more to go, Mineta!” Cheered Present Mic, which was replied to with an audible groan.

“Thanks for everything, guys,” Shoto said suddenly.

“Hey, no problem. We should really be thanking you, you know,” Izuku said.

“Yeah, if it hadn’t been for you, we probably would have believed it like everybody else,” Ochaco stated, causing Shoto’s chest to stir.

“Seriously,” Momo chuckled, tilting her sunglasses up, “I was about to take Mr. Yamada out before you talked to me… thank you, Shoto.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Ochaco added.

“No problem,” Shoto sighed, mostly from relief, then looked up at the sky as a few clouds drifted over the sun.

He wondered if it might rain. He thought about the story Mr. Yamada had told them about the picnic, and Mr. Yamada and Mr. Aizawa themselves, dressed in gym clothes, running the same track when they were his age. Would he go on to know someone from 1-A for that long? Would he develop some kind of relationship like that, with someone he already knew from here?

Shoto had never really thought about it before that moment, but as the clouds moved and the sun returned, he found that he liked the idea of it.

The End

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

Thank you so much for this prompt, phoenixtodoroki! I really enjoyed writing it. First attempt at erasermic. Still feeling out all the characters and things. If you liked this, please drop me an ask for anything you’d like me to fill relating to this ship - I’d like to keep my spark going. Thank you for reading. I’ll put this on my ao3 soon.

Also, I was thinking of writing a bonus companion fic to this one regarding the disaster picnic - let me know if you’d like that sort of thing! ^^ - numby

#erasermic #erasermic fic #phoenixtodoroki #slight erasermight because i have no self control #id like call this genre angsty cheese

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jensenknowsdeanbetterthanyou · 4 years

Note

Since spn is ending do u think we'll git rid of the delusional shippers? I have no problem with ships but these extreme ones that want validation just ruin stuff for others

i’m hoping the more obnoxious fans in general, which do tend to be shippers one way or another, will burn themselves out, after all, the loudest tend to be the newer fans who haven’t become tired and worn-torn like oldies such as myself. problem is, they get renewed...the old ones move on and new ones sprout up in their place.

also, sadly, the idea that dean is simply one part of a ship and not much else will never die because it’s been a bug for us Dean stans to bear since the beginning. all we can do is keep promoting Dean as more than that, and hope other fans will listen.

#replies #bitter dean girl blogging #Anonymous

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ftkd-arts · 4 years

Photo

Trixie: Aw, babe, you had a crush on me~? Embarrassing.

Sunset Shimmer: We're married.

Trixie: Still ;)

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In my AU, Sunset Shimmer and Trixie Lulamoon are wives! I loved their relationship in Equestria Girls, and they're even more liable for a relationship in the pony world.

[MORE]

After the graduation of her peers, Sunset Shimmer returned to Equestria. For a while, she was torn between her two worlds. Until she reunited with her family. She ran into her stepsister Starlight almost immediately. Starlight got Sunset back in touch with Sunburst, her brother, and visited their baby sister Moondancer. Soon, they held a family reunion in Sire's Hollow, where they saw their mom Stellar Flare, fathers Firelight and Sunspot, cousins Spitfire and Short Fuse.... It was very nice. Thankfully, it wasn't limited to just family, and Starlight brought along her best friend Trixie. This is where the two met. Sunset was currently living in Ponyville as Twi's guest, so the sisters ran into each other quite a lot, and Star was usually with Trixie. A budding friendship blossomed, filled with snark and sarcasm and lots of swapping embarrassing stories about Glimmer. Sunset slowly started spending much more time in the pony world than in the human one... totally not because of Trix, nononononono; it's for her family, of course!

Trixie dared Sunset to prank Starlight Glimmer by making her believe her best friend and sister are sugary, syrupy-sweet girlfriends. Starlight finds it absolutely humiliating. Even though the trick worked, they... don't stop. They continue their shows of grand affection, drowning the other in flowers and chocolate gifts and random snuggies. Everytime Trixie and Sunset are in the same room, Sunset has her arm over her, or they're loudly making out, or obnoxiously complimenting each other, or ear-nippling, or grinding or doin bunny kisses or writing a love poem in her honor. Eventually, Starlight gives in, admitting that the two seem really happy together.... she realizes she's been wrong, and apologizes, giving them her blessing. That's when they admit that aha you just got prannked bro and Star's like bitch it's been half a year?????? anyways they're like no it hasn't and Starlight's just fucking face-palming at this point. Starlight real-talks the SHit out of those idiots and tells them to just fuck already it's okay you gay morons

and they do! thus creating their son, Apollo. Overjoyed soon-to-be mamas get hitched with a giant wedding (paid for by Trix's dads), buy their own place in Ponyville, and Sunset decides that... maybe she's outgrown the human world. She still communicates with the human version of the Mane Six through the book. She hasn't been back since the pregnancy, and finds herself enjoying the sunshine, rainbows and magicks of Equestria more than she ever did at Canterlot High. Trixie, though, loves hearing stories about Sunset's adventures there.

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To recap a few things

- in my hc and Harmonyverse, Firelight married into Stellar Flare and Sunspot's relationship after the death of Firelight's wife/Starlight's mother (died in childbirth). Together, the three of them had Moondancer (yes, THAT Moondancer). This makes Sunset Shimmer and Sunburst Starlight's older stepsiblings. Also, Stellar and Stormy Flare are sisters, and Short Fuse is the baby brother of Spitfire.

- Sunset Shimmer is a trans lesbian, which is how they got their oopsie baby

- The two certainly weren't trying for a kid, but that doesn't mean they didn't want one. Both of 'em just figured they'd have kids longer down the line, when they were married, whether it was to each other or some other mare. But when they found out Trixie was pregnant from that night, they were both overjoyed, and Sunset proposed on the spot. so. many. happy tears. just the fucking loudest of sobs combined with the biggest grins ever. It wasn't a question of whether they were happy with it, or if they wanted to keep it. They knew from the second they begun questioning the possibility.

- Trixie Lulamoon's dads are Jack Pot and Big Bucks. The mare featured in the comics is Big's sister

- Trixie wears Sunset's Equestria Girls element shard around her neck

- Apollo is a charming, envious actor with crippling self-doubt. He was raised as a child star, and now that he's a grown boy, he latches onto his dried-up fame. A very "do you know who i am?!" type pony. You ever seen Along Came Polly? You know Ruben's best friend in that movie? He's basically like that guy, except much more manipulative and self-loathing. His mums raised him to be confident and take what you want, but sadly the effects of stardom at a young age seeped into his image incredibly quickly, and he can't emotionally register that you care for him unless there's something he can offer you. This leads to him trying to protect himself before he gets hurt, which ends with him cutting ties more often than not before any relationship can get too serious. Apollo is also a complete and utter mama's boy

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i don't think i've ever drawn either of them before so there's nothing to link i guess?? Uh have this link to my Luster Dawn post, she's Sunset Shimmer's niece https://www.deviantart.com/gayswillrule/art/Creak-of-Dawn-852691314

#mlp #mlp fim #mlp sunset shimmer #mlp trixie #trixie x sunset shimmer #mlp nextgen #sunset shimmer #trixie lulamoon #pastelglitches20 #pastelglitchesdrawsiguess

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canimal · 5 years

Note

Did you had a bad/mean review ?

That’s a pretty normal occurrence, unfortunately. It just really annoyed me the other day to get a review on a story I literally finished writing years ago blasting the lack of character development for the character they couldn’t even bother to spell correctly. 🙄 It’s annoying that usually you only get reviews on completed stories when the reader wants to tell you how much it sucked. Most people never bother to review stories that are finished for reasons I’ve frankly never understood, so it makes the one review you get for that story for the first time in a long time especially obnoxious if they’re complaining. If they can’t proofread their own review as they’re telling you how disappointing or boring your story was, it just makes you want to roll your eyes extra hard.

Encouraging reviews are so important for writers. No encouragement often means no desire to continue to write. If you’re not reviewing and encouraging the writers of the stories you enjoy (completed or WIP), it just means that there may come a day when they no longer see the benefits of continuing to write anymore. We don’t get paid to write. If all we ever hear is how much we suck or what garbage our stories are, we will just go find a new hobby that doesn’t make us hate our lives. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I wish bad/mean/hateful reviews weren’t a thing, but sadly, they are. Lots of bitter people out there with an axe to grind or self-important people who think their opinions are the only valid ones. It’s sad that the nice people are generally the quiet ones and the dicks are the loudest.

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

Text

54 is hard...why did i put him in a drop? Now I have to wait while he comes out of it. Buuuut soon two of my favourite scenes are coming

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imaginedilestrade · 6 years

Text

Soul before sovereign. (10/?)

Summary: While studying history at university, an unlikely encounter between a mysterious, handsome man in glasses makes your last year at the uni a memorable one.

Warnings: None!

A/N: Thank you for waiting! So sorry about last night but my wifi is back to normal again thankfully! This is the calm before the storm next week 😏😅 I hope you enjoy and have a great weekend! ❤️

Missed the last part? Catch up here

——————————

Chapter 10

——————

"You know who'll be best to meet Y/N..." John whispered to Mycroft as they stood outside Greg's room at the palace, waiting for him to call them in when he was ready.

"He might tear her to shreds...but perhaps your right, he can get a lot of information out of someone." Mycroft uttered back.

"What are you two on about?" Sherlock made them both jump as he unexpectedly appeared out of nowhere.

"Nothing!" The two guards chirped with slightly suspicious smiles on their faces. Before Sherlock could hound them, the door opened and out emerged Greg. Without his glasses.

"Now we're stuck in the period when it's the days between Christmas and new year and no one knows what to do with themselves..." he sighed out and walked passed his guards.

"Yes well not you!" Mycroft smirked "You have a lunch to attend to this afternoon with your parents and their guests."

"Who's the guests?" Greg was loosely listening as he took out his phone and smiled seeing a message from you. You had both messaged each other every day.

"Uh...well..." John nervously cleared his throat.

Greg froze. He went as white as a sheet. Turning on his heel, he looked at his guards with a worried expression "No." The three guards shared an uneasy look with one another "No! No! No!!" Greg attempted to run back to his room but his guards caught him.

"The faster you get it over with the less painful it will be!" Sherlock tried to assure him as he and the two others pushed him towards the dining room.

"No! Please!" Greg tried to dig his feet into the floor but ended up sliding forwards.

"An hour, Greg. An hour and then it will be over!" John uttered in his ear.

"It will never be over! Don't make me do this! That's an order!" Greg fumbled in the arms of his guards.

The guards each shared a look before pushing Greg into the dining hall where his parents were with their guests and her. He let out a small, yet audible sigh as she scurried up to him with her bodyguard dismally trailing behind.

"Greg," the young prince could hear his mothers soft voice behind him "You remember Dolores, don't you?" His mother placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. Greg's eyes flickered from his mother to the obnoxiously loud wannabe debutante slash princess with the loudest red lipstick he had ever seen. Most of it was on her teeth.

"Unfortunately..." he mumbled under his breath to himself before flashing a polite smile. She opened her mouth to say something but Greg was saved by his grandmother, Clarice, who came shuffling through the door. He rushed over to take her arm and lead her to the dining table. Greg loved his grandmother, he loved the stories she'd share with him. When his grandfather, the king, died his grandmother stepped down as queen and let Greg's parents ascend to the throne.

Greg's grandmother glanced up and let out a groan "Not her..." she uttered seeing Dolores while Greg tried his best not to chuckle. He sat her down at the table and she thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. He decided to sit next to her, trying to stay as far way from Dolores as he possibly could.

There was a reason she was always lingering around the palace.

Greg's mother wanted him to marry her.

---

"You should put that away..." Greg's grandmother nudged his side seeing him check his phone under the table just after lunch. Looking at his phone was a million times better than looking across at Dolores.

"Yeah," Greg quickly sent a text to you before putting away his phone "Sorry."

"I can get us out of this," she whispered under her breath and quickly stood up, causing everyone to raise their eyebrows at her.

"Mother?" Greg's father looked over to her "What's the matter?"

She looked down at him, unimpressed "What? I can't go for a walk after my lunch without being interrogated?"

Greg's father cleared his throat "No I-"

Clarice cut him off "-Well don't put me through an inquisition! Come on Greg," she tapped his shoulder and he promptly stood.

"Greg can stay," his mother widely smiled, growing increasingly uncomfortable from the anxious gaze Dolores was sending her "He can stay at the table and we can all chat about future prospects!"

Greg tried not to cringe at his mothers overly enthusiastic tone. Clarice was having none of it. "Oh so you'd rather have me walk by myself and have me fall? If I was holding onto Greg I wouldn't."

Not wanting his mother and his wife to start debating in the middle of the dining hall, Greg's father interjected "Alright! Just go, you are both excused." Greg locked arms with his grandmother and quickly thanked her as they walked out of the dining room. Dolores angrily sulked in her seat.

Greg took his grandmother to her study, he'd spend endless afternoons hiding in the room with her to avoid the dull etiquette lessons he was forced to endure. When someone knocked on the door and asked her if she had seen Greg, she'd flash a smile and say that she hadn't seen him all day. That's was until he was caught by his mother of all people. His mother was usually highly strung, she was a proper lady and met Greg's father, a prince back then, at a ball years ago.

Greg sat his grandmother down and make her a cup of tea. "Thank you, dear," she took the cup from him with a smile, she took a sip before pestering him "Who were you talking to?"

He cleared his throat and sat down on a seat across from her, shifting in it a little "A...friend...from the university." Clarice raised an unconvinced brow and Greg let out a small sigh "Okay...maybe a little more than a friend."

She smiled and placed down her cup "I thought so, I've never seen you smile so much. Go on, tell me about them."

Greg bashfully smiled "Y/N is a history student at the university, I bumped into her one day...I say bumped but in actual fact I kissed her between the gaps of two buildings to hide from the 'three musketeers'," His grandmother sniggered at Greg's nickname for his guards "And then she slapped me, but I kinda deserved that for kissing her out of the blue. Anyway, I couldn't get her out of my mind and then I met her the next day and..." Greg smiled to himself and Clarice noticed a little glimmer in his eye that wasn't there before "And since then I never want to spend a day without her. She doesn't know I'm a prince and she treats me like a normal person and it makes me so unbelievably happy."

A moment of silence passed before Clarice shared a story "When your dad was your age he met your mother, she similar to Dolores, debutante wise, although your mother was less annoying and not as loud. I liked her. Your mother was a good match for my boy." She paused for a minute to smile "But this girl you've found, you and her remind me of myself and your grandfather, bless his soul. I wasn't a lady or a debutante or anything. I was just me. Your grandfather, he went to university and that's where he met me. Since that day we loved each other."

"I don't think mum and dad would approve of me being with Y/N..." he sadly trailed off.

Clarice took Greg's hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze "Greg you can love whoever you want. I know you'd never love Dolores, not in a million years, even beyond that. I've known you all your life and I know for a fact you don't just like this Y/N...you're falling in love with her."

---

"You want me to do what?"

Sherlock was glaring at John and Mycroft almost sternly, he couldn't believe their proposal. They were currently standing in the middle of the street after finishing their duties for the day, Greg was still talking to his grandmother by the time they left.

"We want you to get a feel for Y/N. Assess her, get to know her- that sort of thing." Mycroft explained "We thought you'd be good because you can get a lot of information from a person. You can also get a feel of a persons personality from the first few minutes of talking to them."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and let out a sigh "Fine but I'm going to complain all about it when I'm finished speaking to her."

John scoffed "Complaining is what keeps you alive, now put in this earpiece," he handed Sherlock the small device and he placed it in his ear "You'll be able to hear us so Mycroft and myself can ask some questions."

"If you wanted to ask her questions you should have gone yourself," he uttered.

"We are going to be in the bar across the street from the cafe, try and get a seat next to the window so we can see." John nudged Sherlock's ribs "Here she comes, act normal."

Sherlock let out a huff and walked towards you. You barely noticed him walking towards you as you were too busy smiling at a text from Greg. Sherlock made the effort to 'accidentally' bump into you.

"Oh I'm sorry!" He apologised.

"No, that was my fault! I'm so sorry! I should have been paying more attention. I apologise," you smiled at him. Sherlock was impressed with how polite you were. Nothing like that Dolores who doesn't make an effort to thank someone who's bent over backwards for her and got her everything she wanted.

"Sorry if this seems strange..." he trailed off and you raised a wary brow "But are you Y/N?"

"Yes..." you slowly dragged your reply with narrowing eyes.

"I thought I recognised you, I'm Sherlock, Greg's roommate!" Sherlock almost patted himself in the back for his acting skills. "I recognise you from the drawing he did at Christmas." That was true, but he also knew you from the extensive investigating he and his two fellow guards had done.

You relaxed and let out a sigh of relief under your breath "Oh! It's so lovely to meet you!" You shook his hand "Do you live close then?" You asked, gesturing around you.

"Yes, quite close. Are you busy or can you spare twenty minutes for a coffee?" Sherlock asked glancing at the cafe.

"Sure! But I insist on buying!" You weren't taking any 'buts' from him "It was my fault for bumping into you so take a seat and I'll get you a..." you trailed off waiting for him to tell you his drink of choice, he asked for a tea. "One tea coming up!"

Sherlock waited for you to bring the tray with drinks over, he could see the two guards looking out the bar window directly across to the table you were sitting at. Sherlock wasn't sure if they had blinked. "Here you go," you placed the tray on the table and placed the tea in front of Sherlock as well as a plate of biscuits. "Freshly baked ginger nuts."

Sherlock's eyes went as wide as saucers "Ginger nuts? I love ginger nuts!"

You lightly laughed as he reached across and grabbed one. "I hope that burst pipe just before Christmas wasn't too bad!" You took a sip of coffee. It wasn't as good as Sherrinfords, which only made you think of Greg more.

"Huh?" He furrowed a brow with a mouthful of biscuit. Sherlock could hear Mycroft disapprovingly sigh.

"It was the excuse Greg gave her to leave early!" Mycroft's voice crackled in Sherlock's ear.

"Oh yeah...it wasn't to bad. Greg felt bad about leaving." He continued eating biscuits before looking up at you with a genuine smile "Thank you for the tea, the ginger nuts and the Christmas gift."

You flashed a grin "My pleasure. If I knew you liked ginger nuts so much I would have bought you a couple of packets for Christmas!" You laughed seeing the plate bare with a few crumbs scattered over it.

Sherlock slowed down his chewing and looked down at the plate "Oh..."

"Don't worry," you smiled and stood up "I'll grab more."

Sherlock watched you return to the counter and ask the woman for more biscuits, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he turned to look at the two men across the street and held up both thumbs.

John and Mycroft looked at each other and nodded. They knew you had to be a genuine person if they got that kind of reaction from Sherlock.

---

"Look what I've got..."

The editor watched photo upon photo being placed on their desk.

"Good work, Anderson. You better get typing up that exclusive report. It won't be long until others see these photos, we need to publish first."

————————————

Tags: (let me know if you'd like to be tagged/untagged)

@daynaan-black-dawn @the-baby-bookworm @imnottalkingtoyou @theyre-my-divsion @girl-next-door-writes @annkli @princesspeach212 @heyyou-guys @-waythe- @sherlockedtash88 @redgreyandpurple @babynovak05 @damnitman-jamlocked-inthetardis @holmes-maev @wcsteland @laterthantherabbit @disneymarina @becauseflife @blackloveangel13 @hetaliafan11950

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vallygirl285 · 3 years

Text

The Ugly Side of SPN Fan

Okay I've written and deleted this post several times lately but I saw that I'm not alone out there so I decided to post it.

Why is it that the trolls of the SPN fandom are the loudest fans? Yes we all have our favorite actor...yes we all have our favorite ship but seriously why do people feel the need to shit all over anyone else they don't agree with.

Are the Hellers obnoxious...yeah...are MC minions obnoxious...absolutely...but guess what there are just as many ugly fans in Jensen and Jared camps too.

I'll say right up front that I'm not a Destiel on Wincest shipper but honestly I don't care if others are. If that floats your boat, good for you. I'm a Chestervelle (Dean and Jo Harvelle) shipper.

I just want to know when did it become so friggin embarrassing to be a fan of these actors? I adore Jared, I've been a fan since Gilmore Girls. I started watching SPN for him. Jensen I really only know from SPN but still I love his portrayal of Dean.

I never really followed the fandom too closely over the years. I just read fan fiction and I followed the some of actors on Twitter and Instagram but that's about it.

Now I see so much coming onto my feed, even with all my 'safeguards' not to have to see it. It's just so horrible. I'm not even sure how some of this shit hits my feed but sadly it does.

So I'm going to say something here and now that isn't going to win me any followers. To the obnoxious Jared and Jensen minions who feel the need to tear down every other actor who appeared on the show.

Can you please check into the real world. Are Jared and Jensen successful? Absolutely. Are they A List...house hold names superstars? Nope sorry they aren't contrary to what you think. That isn't a dig to Jared or Jensen, it's just the reality of the industry and the world outside the fandom bubble.

I have to laugh when they go on and on about how successful J2 are. You would think they were earning a million dollars an episode(trust me they weren't...J2 aren't anywhere in that league) but they definitely earned a nice income from the show and the convention circuit.

You put a 100 average television viewers in a room who maybe caught episodes here or there over the years and ask them who Jensen Ackles or Jared Padalecki are and they wouldn't be able to tell you without some other prompting.

Like I said I know that will piss people off but I'm not saying it to be mean towards either of them or take anything away from them. It's just honest facts.

SPN does well for a fandom show and I do believe both Jared and Jensen are respected in the industry...as I believe a number of 'extras' (as Jared's minions like to call any of the supporting actors/guest stars from the show) are also very well respected in the industry.

They cling and brag about 'the awards' Jensen and Jared have won. Hmmm I believe that extra Sterling K. Brown won the Emmy for Best Lead Actor in a Drama a few years ago.

Seriously SPN was very luck to get some of the guest stars they got over the years. Season one alone they got people like Loretta Devine, Daniel Hugh Kelly, Jamie Ray Newman, Dan Butler and Julie Benz to name a few. The guest stars got even better as time went on and we had some great recurring characters too.

But for every shitty post I see from JA or JP minions demeaning the other actors who appeared on the show I find myself embarrassed to call myself a fan of these men because those are the fans who are the most vocal.

Now I know some actors tend to interact too much with the fan bases(and yes I don't like it and have posted that I can't stand it either *cough*MC, KR, RC, SF, CL*cough*) but they attack anyone who so much as 'Likes' a post one of the boys make even the ones who don't interact with the fans like that.

Alona had the audacity to like Jared's post supporting Jensen for The Boys (on Twitter no less...where she doesn't really post other than to like other people post occasionally...she's mostly active on Instagram and doesn't follow either JP or JA on that platform). I see shit she's 'riding' Jared's social media coattails like a 'typical attention seeking extra using Jared'.

OMG...newsflash. If that was the case and Alona was 'riding' anyone's SM coattails you think it would be Jared? Umm lets see JP has 2.9 million Twitter and 5.8 million Instagram followers. She hasn't worked with him in 10 years. She's just finished her second project for Reese Witherspoon's production company...RW has the same 2.9 on Twitter and 25.6 million on Instagram.

Now I'm not saying she wouldn't use someone to raise her social media presents(I don't know her so who the Hell knows) but really Jared or Reese...who would you use to accomplish this? Hell she's buddies with Gal Gadot...I would use her 55.2 million Instagram followers to boost my SM if I was her not Jared.

Again I'm not saying this because I have anything against Jared or Jensen...but these are the loudest part of his fan base lately and it makes it hard for the normal fans to enjoy not only Jared or Jensen but other performers from the show too.

So please tell me I'm not alone? Tell me there are other fans of Jared and Jensen who don't feel the need to shit on every other actor who's been on SPN just to try and build up Jared and Jensen success?

Can the fans who appreciate Jared and Jensen who don't feel the need to belittle every other actor who worked with them please try to be a little more vocal.

Obviously I'm not insane and I'm not tagging any actor or SPN here because I don't need to be 'target' as the enemy. I don't need that crap in my life. I just needed to vent and get this off my chest so my small little group of followers can ignore this post. It's really just for me more than anyone else and is being posted privately.

Edit to add...obviously I'm insane but I'm sick of seeing people I like being shit on by Jared and Jensen minion fans(especially due to what happened last week). Screw it, I'll take hate if it come my way. I'm changing this from private and tagging.

Then again I'm a very little fish in the Tumblr pond...

#spnfandom #supernatural #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #sick of this shit

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junisohare-blog · 7 years

Photo

The O’Hare Family:

Finally!! I got inspired to do this when everyone else was putting names and faces to their kid’s family’s and I was like, I need to do this too. (And since Orville is kinda up in the air if we’d ever have a Wilbur, which lol I doubt but I wouldn’t want to set anything that might change later.) Not that anyone was looking out for this but ayyee I got it together. In that regard; please let me know if any of these don’t make sense racially for the biologically related members!! I tried my best, but I’m human so I expect to make mistakes. Just let me know and whack me upside the head.

Relation to Junis: Name, Age (FC’s Name)

Father: Henry O’Hare, Deceased (Ahn Sung Ki)

Took over the farm from his father, was a really warm and inviting guy in all honesty. He loved doing what he did because of the community! He loved Swynlake a lot, even though it was a little crazy. But yeah, he was a really great father, loved and accepted all his kids equally. Got a little restless at times and expected them all to be the est that they could be. Could be very stubborn when it came to things, like he would expect everyone to be ready when HE was ready. So if you were ready to eat dinner at 6 and he wasn’t, ah well everyone has to weight until like 7 for when he’s going to be hungry. But, wait you’re doing something at 7 because you were trying to be productive and he all of a sudden is getting impatient with you because! Hey! Let’s go! DINNER!

Mother: Martha O’Hare, Deceased (Kim Mi Kyung)

So!! Lovely! She was such a good mom, but she expected a lot from her kids so she was very pushy with them even at a young age. But she was still that very motherly figure of like the wind where she can be soft and kind but wouldn’t hesitate to be harsh if someone attacked her kids! Sadly she died when Junis was 12 meaning Stewart was only 2. I want to say she died in a #Swynlake disaster.

Step Mother: Victoria May LO’Hare, Deceased (Sophie Okonedo)

She was a little bit more of a doting mother and little bit more freeing with the way she parented. She adopted 5 out of her 6 kids! And grew up in a more laid back environment so she took that with her to her own kids. She taught Henry to be more like that too, and to not push them so hard that they go toppling over the edge or hold their hand so tightly that they start to lose feeling and don’t trust their parents! Give them space! They’re kids, they want their privacy. She encouraged her kids to do what they wanted, and even sat Junis down a few times away from his father to be like, honey you can say if you don’t want to take over the family business, it’s okay! But she could be a little too passive and let them get away with too much sometimes which would result in a burned living room rug and a lost Stewart at 3am. Nothing DRASTIC just, some bad decisions with young kids. She learned though.

Sister: Daphne O’Hare, 33 (Shin Min Ah)

UHM, honestly a diva. but a nice diva. Like she’s hot as hell, knows it, but doesn’t make people feel bad about it. Would try to build people up! Loved to practice on her siblings. Could go all MacGyver on everyone’s ass with the contents of her purse if they were in a tight spot. Can be a passive aggressive bitch when she needs to be. Really the only one who could give Junis a run for his money, but in contrast she actually likes being around people and adores conversation! So when people met with the O’Hares she would be the only one talking and being like, oh haha don’t mind my brother he’s just a bit sour! Right now she is graduated, has a wife and a dog, and is a practicing lawyer. Junis calls her for legal advice and even though she’s far north he only trusts her for that kinda stuff!! Everything stays in the family.

Brother: Travis O’Hare, 30 (Gong Yoo)

He was the one who took the Farming thing to the next level. He was always kinda shy because Junis was DEMANDING and Daphne was really friendly so they both kind of never let Travis get a word in until they grew up a little. But he was more quiet than those two, and Stewart. Really nice, like OVERLY nice because he was trying to over compensate for his siblings being all over the place. Then when they gained new siblings and things calmed down he came out of his shell, but was still nice and funny and just a genuine down to Earth guy. As I was saying before, he got REALLY passionate about the environment and is up over in Alaska studying the receding icecaps. Would die for the Earth, will chew you up and spit you out if you litter or don’t seem to care about the environment he gets very personally offended. Like, “don’t you know it’s the REASON you’re ALIVE right now!”

Brother: Stewart O’Hare, 26 (Ji Chang Wook)

He was kinda an asshole. Like his gimmick was, I don’t stand out among my siblings, even more so with all my new siblings, so I’m going to be a jerk in order to get people to notice me! And he thought he was being funny, but he was really just obnoxious and annoying as all hell. But he was really book smart, not so much people smart, so he got in trouble but his siblings were like, “Stewart you gotta stop being such a fucker and calm down.” So he did towards the tail end of secondary and wow would you look at that people actually liked him for himself! Imagine that. He is now an architect and is dating a lovely woman who Junis has only met twice and is getting IMPATIENT since Stewart has learned to keep his affairs away from the family until he preps the person for the whole gang. He’ll get there soon.

Step Brother: Nathan O’Hare, 34 (Mike Godson)

He is the biological son of Victoria and some guy who skipped out on her. He is the warmest most huggable person. If anyone of the O’Hares needed a hug, Nathan was the first door they were knocking on. He was just super into board games and strategy. He was like, kinda a nerd? But a ‘cool’ nerd. Like no one wrote him off because of the things he liked and he sure af wasn’t embarrassed by any of it either. He is always so happy! And warm! It was rare to see him down and when the family was at odds or when their parents died he was the one who lifted their spirits with good stories and happy memories. Right now he works with the Child Protection system in the UK because he grew up around five adoptive kids, and he really got inspired to want to help kids get out of the situations like some of his siblings were in. He’s got a flat and currently lives alone but Junis keeps asking when he’s going to bring home his secret girlfriend. Who doesn’t exist but Junis doesn’t believe it because Nathan is too good nOT to have a girlfriend what are these LIES.

Step Brother: Peter O’Hare, 29 (Aaron Smith)

The Sporty One™. And adopted! He was really quiet at first when they were all meeting and bonding for the first time so Junis plopped his ass down next to Peter and pried him open like a clam. He is very sarcastic and dry, but light hearted and can take a joke. Very lowkey and keeps to himself until you get to know him and he is the LOUDEST person you’ll feel really special seeing him be comfy. Also everyone hates him because he’s so fucking TALL, except Junis who is like, hey you should come home and reach the high shelves for meee. But yeah, he plays rugby, is really grand at it, is playing that right now and will probably end up coaching somewhere when he’s done with that. He’s surprisingly never been injured, knock on wood, and on his first game on the major team the WHOLE clan went to watch. Even Junis had a good time with all the yelling drunk people.

Step Sister: Lily O’Hare, 26 (Ashley Argota)

She use to be the shyest of the shy! A complete wallflower, even worse than Travis because she just was so not into talking to people. When Victoria adopted her she was intimidated by her brothers but when they turned out to be really nice and lovely she was like, okay this is okay, and then the additions to the clan made it more okay. And then Victoria got married and she kind of shrank back at the sudden new siblings, esp Daphne who was like, omg SISTER!, but eventually grew to love them all so much! And she was really good at singing from a young age so Junis, who happened to hear her because he is nosy, and pushed her into doing theater which she ended up falling in love with. It helped her come into her own person, esp when she went to Uni and found her people! Now she does plays and theater and is starting to get into acting on screen. They’ve all seen her perform and Junis cried because look at little Lily having the time of her life on stage!

Step Sister: Christine O’Hare, 25 (Nesta Cooper)

One smart cookie. She was always one step ahead of everyone, Junis would always get so! Frustrated with her smart alec attitude! But she liked to get on people’s nerves, toe the line of too much but just funny enough to where they could all laugh it off. Christine is smart and she knows it? She owns it, lives in it, works it until she has everyone in awe of her. Junis is worried one day she’s going to get pushed off of her pedestal. The truth is that she’s actually very aware of how easy it would be to fail, she’s thought about just failing for the sake of doing it and seeing what happens since she is a curious person at heart, hence why she is so smart, she learned a lot at a young age since she consumed knowledge and got her brain accustom to picking things up. But she won’t because she doesn’t want to give Junis a heart attack. She is currently doing research in a lab with a team.

Step Brother: Buster O’Hare, 24 (Austin P. McKenzie)

He and Bella were going to be separated, but Victoria took both of them and he was always so grateful to her for keeping them together. He was the weird art kid, alright, he was the one who had the emo phase and only sort of regrets it. He’s very empathetic so he’s very emotional and easy to talk to. His siblings usually came to him when they needed someone to just retell their day to because he would just understand them, not give his opinions unless they asked that of him. A little on the annoying side in that he is very indecisive so when it came down to him he would flounder around because he didn’t want to make one side angry, but would just end with everyone being exasperated. Went off to art school and is currently working in a museum and freelancing on the side for people. Junis commissioned the first one. It’s of the O’Hare house and it hangs above the mantle.

Step Sister: Bella O’Hare, 22 (Katie Douglas)

A very physical being. Like her reactions are not just on her face or in her head she reacts with her whole being which Junis found annoying! at first as he is very still and keeps his movements to a minimum as not to touch anything, but eventually loved her for it. She would run and slip, dive, circle her arms, just took up so much life and energy, but still kept going. She knows how to brighten a room just by stepping into it with her high energy! She is also very chill in her emotions, though, like she has a lid on everything so she is calm and collected. Rarely got mad or testy with the siblings, would kind of be the person who calmed everyone down and was like this is the stupidest fight we have ever had, please let’s just mOVE ON. She doesn’t like her people to be unhappy, it takes her down from her love of life when the people she cares about arent enjoying it with her! She actually calls Junis the most out of her siblings, every single day and he panics if she doesn’t at this point.

Half Brothers: Kenneth and Edward O’Hare, 19 (Cedric Stout)

Kenneth: The elder twin of 5 minutes! EVERYONE was here to see these two be born! It was a DAY at the Swynlake Hospital I can guarantee you omg. Anyways, Kenneth is the more friendly of the two. He is more into reading and really fell in love with history and learning all the bullshit that has gone down in the world. And he really wanted to teach history because whenever he could he would bore his siblings to death with what he learned in school. Very approachable, laid back person. If you saw him on the street you would be like, oh he looks nice I can probably just ask him for directions and he won’t skewer me with a back handed reply. At University right now!

Edward: A little more callus than Kenneth, but he’s a little more recluse. Except he does put in a lot of work to his #looks. He’s got a large online presence lmao. Not like HUGE but he has a decent following across the platforms because he puts more effort in there than he does talking to people most of the time. Minus his siblings because he not only loves them but he can’t escape them either, ahaha. He’s also the most blunt and forward about things, like he doesn’t hold anything back once you do get to know him. He’s easily the one who would knock on someone’s door and force confrontation that would need to be defused. Very technology forwards, always tried to get their parents to think about updating the farm to make the work easier but he was too young or whatever, so they didn’t listen. Junis is kind of the same way towards him, but he’s more like, well now Edward take all those ideas and do something wonderful with them!! So he’s at University for engineering.

#the family #the o'hare's #ugh i love them #junis loves them all so much #UGH

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thejamesoldier · 7 years

Note

98 w/ Steve or Bucky I CAN FEEL THE ANGST ALREADY

I love me some fluffy angst haha enjoy love, and thanks for requesting!

Prompt #98: “Why can’t you just believe me?” - “Because you’ve lied about it before.”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

{observe: a puppy that kicks his own damn self; i’m furious}

Rattling Those Perfect Teeth

Steve made an obnoxiously persistent point of reminding everyone and their mother that he did not, in fact, want a big deal to be made of his birthday. And since his birthday was on Fourth of July it was easy to hide behind the national holiday. But of course when Steve says white, Tony, by call of sass-master duty, must under all and any circumstances say black.

It took a long while for the Avengers to all forgive each other. A painful slow process of fixing hearts and stitching up souls. Everyone is fucked up, and when they all truly realized this they decided to be fucked up together rather than alone. Nothing is hunky-dory or anything, but they’re a family. And even though families are really good at fighting, they also know how to love each other despite all else.

What they had, what they were for each other was something to truly marvel at. You were jealous of them sometimes, of how they carefully and cautiously knit themselves back to each other one stitch at a time. The hold now stronger than ever.

But despite this new found kinship, Tony still has and frequently exercises his uncanny talent of pressing all of Steve’s buttons in a practiced and most effective order. You would have laughed more at their little banter battles if you weren’t Steve’s girlfriend and thus had to show some loyalty. Steve knew its who Tony is, to push and prod and poke, and that when push comes to flying through a space hole above Manhattan to blow up an alien army with a single nuc, Tony has his back.

So a week before the fourth Steve announces at dinner (yes they all have family dinner together at least once a week in the dining room at Avengers’ Tower), standing up formally from his seat at the head of the table, that he did not want a big birthday party, Tony sitting at the opposite end of the table got that look in his eye. Nat saw the ‘DANGER DANGER’ neon flashing sign in Stark’s eyes first, and silently rolled her eyes up to the heavens probably praying for strength while continuing to cut her steak. Bucky sitting at Steve’s right only watches Steve’s face knowing his friend is bracing to be fought on this, stuffing some mash potatoes in his mouth distractedly. Sam makes a weird affronted noise as he drops his silverware and they clatter against the china Pepper got in France. As you’re seated next to Sam, on Steve’s left, you quickly step on his foot under the table warning him to keep quiet. Sam feels your warning and only huffs out the air that was supposed to be a retort and pouts at his green beans.

There are a variety of other reactions from Pepper, Thor, Wanda, Bruce, Clint, and nothing of course from Vision (he still came even if he didn’t eat anything), but Tony remains threateningly – unnervingly – quiet. Steve is staring him down from across the long whoville table spread, daring him to say something in rebellion against his wish.

Tony only pours himself some more red wine with a dramatic flourish and eyes Steve right back over the lip of his glass as he lifts it to take a sip.

You sigh and skull back the rest of your drink knowing that look from Tony only meant trouble.

It’s July 4th and Steve wakes up a total crank pot.

No one is normally all sunshine and giggles in the morning (or if they are you steer very clear of them), but when you wake up before Steve and bring him some homemade pancakes for a little birthday breakfast in bed, something small to show him you love him, and he practically sneers in your face that he’s not hungry you’re a little taken aback.

Steve is never purposefully rude. I mean you know he’s almost like Bruce in the sense he’s always angry (you get it; you’ve been with him a long while and you love all parts of him), and that he expresses his anger if he deems it necessary, but he’s never been nasty. Even when he’s been beside himself furious Steve Rogers isn’t nasty. His fury is direct, clear, straightforward, not instigating, manipulative, or downright mean.

He had swung himself out of bed, shoulders hunched, lip curled in a foreign snarl, and shoved on some clothes before storming out of the bedroom in your shared apartment in Brooklyn. You were sitting shocked-still on the bed when you heard the front door slam. Your frozen in surprise still staring at the indent in the pillow where his head had been not moments before. It takes your body and mind a second to reboot, and when you do you feel an overwhelming tidal wave of concern.

You knew Steve wouldn’t ever try to hurt you on purpose, so you easily brush off his actions and focus on what could really be bothering him. If its got him this twisted then its really bad. As you think, you absentmindedly – sadly – pick up the breakfast tray you arranged all sweet and cute like (you even had that day’s paper folded on it), and carry it back into the quaint kitchen. You keep your own feelings out of this knowing Steve needs you even if that is the last thing he’ll outright ask for right now.

You eat his breakfast slowly, digesting more than just the food you’re eating, and make a decision to go to the gym you got a membership at, like, a year ago. You never really went, but you felt the need to work off some of this tension. (You can’t help but notice how much Steve has rubbed off on you, he always likes to work out his frustration, punching things when he’s mad.) After cleaning up the dishes Steve’s present wrapped perfect and pristine on the island catches your eye. You were going to give it to him after breakfast. Sighing you grab it and slump into the bedroom.

Trying to continue the momentum of energy you had to work out, you tuck the box carefully under the bed incase he comes home and you’re not here (and he’ll have a cow if you’re not there to talk him into accepting the gift), and throw on some work out clothes.

Grabbing the keys out of the bowl on the little table in the foyer, you head out the door and down to the complex garage. You notice in the spot next to your car, Steve’s bike is gone.

When you get home around 3pm (you treated yourself to lunch because working out has to be rewarded with food) and Steve still isn’t back yet you huff pulling in to the parking spot. You spend the next hour lounging around, showering, shaving (in case he wanted birthday sex, although that is looking less and less likely), exfoliating, plucking, really any and every grooming activity you could think of waiting for Steve to get home. He hadn’t texted you which meant he didn’t want you charging after him. No one from the Tower had contacted you which meant he wasn’t there. You choked down the instinct to worry knowing Steve’s a big boy and he can watch after himself – even if he’ll get an earful from you about it when he gets back.

After wasting away another fucking hour, you snap. That’s it. You are not going to let Steve grump around all day, birthday or not. This is ridiculous. After an educated guess, you figure to try the Tower after all. You call Friday (which is still a little weird but you’re getting used to it),

“Miss Y/l/n, how may I be of assistance?” The female Scottish AI greets warmly barely after the first ring.

“Hi Friday, uh is Steve there?” You grunt as you hop on one foot trying to get into a pair of worn jean shorts one-handed, a soft casual shirt and bra already on (thank Christ).

“Yes Miss Y/l/n, Captain Rogers is here. He was on the gym floor but is currently making his way to the roof. Mr. Stark is hosting a party on the terrace.”

“A party?” You start in alarm, Tony wouldn’t.

“Yes, a Fourth of July party.” Friday responds with that patient curl to her voice.

You squint your eyes at this and trap your phone between your ear and shoulder as you use both hands to do up the front of your shorts.

“So its not a birthday party?” Comes your suspicious confirm.

“Yes, it is.”

Your heart jolts.

“Who’s birthday party is it Friday?” Your voice rises an octave and you clutch the phone to your ear with your hands, abandoning the stubborn buttons of your shorts.

Tony wouldn’t.

“America’s.” The AI answers in what you could have sworn was a slightly sarcastic tone.

You let out the world’s loudest and most annoyed sigh of relief before grumbling a little under your voice about stupid AI systems. With exceedingly less patience you tell Friday you’re coming over and will be there at 6.

When you walk in through the grand glass doors, you can practically hear Steve’s mental screaming from the lobby as you rush past the receptionist who knows you personally now, as you dutifully follow the scent of turmoil.

“Hello Ms. Y/l/n, what floor can I take you?” Friday announces herself as the elevator doors close.

“The roof, or which ever floor Steve’s on.” You sigh a bit flustered from rushing here, readjusting your purse under your arm and checking your phone quickly for the time – 6:02pm.

“I’ve been instructed to inform you that Captain Rogers does not wish to see you at this time.”

“Friday,” You warn as your hands ball at your sides. Sometimes Steve can really be a stubborn, bull-headed, thick skulled –

“Would you like me to pass on your request to see him?” Friday offers as you start to boil over like an overcooked pot of spaghetti in the grounded elevator.

“Tell him if he doesn’t let me see him then there is no sex for a month.” Comes your low-voiced threat as you speak through clenched teeth and a tight jaw.

“One moment,” Friday pleasantly informs as silence reigns in the elevator another minute before the smooth Scottish AI voice returns, “Captain Rogers has granted you access to follow him up, I’ll take you to the roof now.”

With a victorious huff you cross your arms over your chest as the elevator rises soundlessly and near motionlessly. Steve’s a sucker for intimacy and physical familiarity, having been starved of it for as long as he can remember. It seems he isn’t completely lost to reason then. You wonder how Friday contacted him when he was apparently on the roof with a terrace full of people. You fucking hope it made him blush, you don’t even try to quell the self satisfied smugness knowing he wouldn’t dare give up touching you and feeling you and being with you physically (and more so emotionally) for even a week let alone an entire month.

You could play dirty if you needed to.

Knowing you two aren’t actually fighting, you understand why he is doing this, keeping you away. You know it has to do with something else. There is no reason for him to try and keep you away too long though, he always caves eventually but this time you’re gonna push him a little. Steve’s talked about how sometimes space is better for him than company, and you readily respected that. Steve learned though that if he wanted you there, all he had to do was ask. No reason needed.

It took him awhile to understand that he had you. Really had you. Even now he sometimes still needed to be reminded.

When you reach the roof floor with a ding, the well-oiled doors swing open in a woosh and you walk out onto the windy terrace. Stepping out you almost choke because when Friday said Fourth of July party you thought low-key barbecue, not a party in full fucking swing. A Stark party, then.

The red white and blue colored lights that hung low over the guests practically blinded you as you wove through the people and almost covered your ears at all the noise. People were chatting and laughing, the smell of barbecue polluting the air, and the push of bodies made you want to run all the way back to Brooklyn. You didn’t mind a good party, but you at least always prepared yourself before attending one this big and crowded. Eventually you found your Steve looking ready to explode, appropriately, like a firework as he loomed over Tony. Tony was standing cool and calm and collected, sipping on a festive looking cocktail, shades on, and souped up in Fourth of July colors.

They look like they have been arguing for awhile, shocker there, and you quickly pushed your way to their sides.

“I specifically asked not to have a big deal be made of my birthday.” Steve growled in a tone he usually reserved for Hydra agents he was about to murder. “And here I am, wanting to just come to enjoy a nice quiet afternoon in the gym, only to be informed that this is going on!” Steve waves his large hands generously wide at the commotion around them, all the voices and people drowning out the volume and menace in his voice.

Tony only blinks at him behind his shades (why was he still wearing them? It’s like 6:15pm?), catches the pink straw of his drink in the side of his mouth, before responding,

“Cap allow me to straighten the stripes in your flag, this is a Fourth of July party, this is America’s party, not yours.” Tony explained between loud obnoxious sips of his drink, “I remember you didn’t want a party but does that mean I can’t celebrate the birth of my country?”

For the first time today the anger rippling on Steve’s face drew back, hesitated, then completely swiped clean away, like an arm sweeping everything off a very crowded table. Guilt and slight embarrassment were the two main emotions that soon replaced it and shown clear through the pink blossoming quickly on his cheeks.

“Alright thanks Tony for clearing that up, well golly I’m starving Steve are you starving? Course you are you’re always starving! Let’s head over to the grill to grab some of those hot dogs Sam’s making!” You chirp when Steve remains standing silent before Tony, shrinking by the second. Snagging Steve’s tree-trunk thick forearm you promptly tug him away, happy when he lets you.

When you’re a few people deep in the crowd, far enough away from Tony, you hush at Steve knowing he can hear you with his enhanced ears, “You wanna tell me what’s really going on baby? Cause something has got your balls in a knot,”

“How delicate of you,” Steve snarks loud enough for you to hear in his usual sarcastic way, not nasty, that strangeness from this morning seems to be gone for now. You relax a little.

“Seriously, what’s up?” You respond not missing a beat as you scoot by Nat who squints her eyes questioningly. With a shake of your head you end the silent conversation between you, promising to tell her about it later, and continue to follow the smell of cooking meat.

“Can we go somewhere a little more private?” Steve is suddenly whispering right in your ear, having to bend down quite a ways to achieve this. You lick your lips when his mouth brushes the shell of your ear – reflexive habit.

“Yes, but first we’re getting those hot dogs. I wasn’t kidding that I was starving.” Comes your answer as you finally arrive at the grill, watching Sam boast of his skill to a very competitive looking Bucky.

When you both get your hot dogs, hot dog buns, and assorted dressings, you both sniff out a quiet corner on the outskirts of the terrace near the roof balcony railing. Together you decide wordlessly that this is where you’ll park and settle. With your hip cocked against the wall, you shake the hair out of your face and dive in to that hot dog teeth flashing. Steve usually finishes them in two bites but he picks at his wrappings now, staring down at it with that Steve Rogers Look of Inner Conflict. You chew your big bite, allowing him time to formulate whatever it is he’s trying to say. When he still hasn’t said anything (or even looked up from his now drooping hot dog) when you swallow the last bite of your meal, you clear your throat.

“Are you okay?” You ask the most basic question, hoping Steve will be honest with whatever version of his answer he chooses. You don’t mind him not telling you everything, there’s room for some personal secrets between you, just not lies. When Steve finally understood that about you, that you were giving him that privacy and not letting it effect your intimacy as a couple, he had said I love you for the first time.

Steve rolls his lips in and his eyebrows crease just a hair more (if that’s even possible) before he responds with the classic:

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

You stop dead from the cleaning escapade with your napkin, and lift your eyes up to him. Steve isn’t even watching you but he can feel the look you’re giving him and he honest to god flinches.

Good, You think, so he knows he just shat out of the wrong hole.

You don’t even respond to that, just sigh loudly and wait, wiping your mouth thoroughly of any stray sauce. Waiting Steve out has proved to be the most effective way to get him talking. He really can’t stand the silent interrogation tactic. Put him in a fight, get him yelling and punching and he’s all set, but the minute the silence sets in his minutes are numbered.

Steve lasts another five minutes under your silent as the grave gaze (a new personal best) before he breaks. He tries to wrangle his anger up like a replacement for his shield, you can almost physically see him gathering it to himself, arm muscles bunching, preparing for a fight even if the only weapons allowed are words.

“Why can’t you just believe me?” The blonde spitfire shoots at you, adjusting his tone to be hard and spiky. He’s looking to provoke you. He’s trying to start a fight. It’s a habit of his if he wants to avoid a serious topic.

Nice try soldier, you smart in your head as you dead ass stare him in the eye and retort with a cold dousing of:

“Because you’ve lied to me about it before.” You make sure to emphasize the word ‘lied’. Steve knows how much you detest being lied to, its one of the reasons you both make such a great couple. Steve hates being lied to almost as much as you do. It goes against all that he believes in really.

You see Steve’s anger waiver on his face as he was never really good at hiding his feelings (thank fuck) but just as you’re experienced with handling him, he knows how to handle you. And Steve Rogers never went down without a fight.

“You’re the one who said I could have emotional privacy,” He hisses over his forgotten hot dog that’s getting reduced to questionable mush as his fist closes around it, “I’m starting to think you didn’t mean it because all you seem to do is push and push and push, ask and ask and ask, poke and poke and poke.” Steve is leaning closer to you with each third repeated word and you’ve never felt in any actual physical danger from Steve, but you still step back, its instinct with someone so obviously physically superior. “You better remember that I allow you into my life, I allow you into my thoughts, you don’t own them. You don’t have automatic rights to them their mine! Mine!”

Steve had begun raising his voice and while you were glad to be getting something out of him, something real that with each word was being stripped of all its layers, you couldn’t deny that Steve’s words hurt. You knew he wasn’t really talking about you, that he was deflecting because he was too scared to say it naked and raw out in the open, even to you. This feeling that he doesn’t have rights to himself, that he doesn’t have privacy, doesn’t have a sense of self outside of Captain America, are all demons you know he fights. He tries to fight them alone, but you’re working on that.

Today, on his birthday, on the fourth, you know Steve’s a bit weaker (and you realize that some of the anger is at himself for being weak, because apparently Steve Rogers isn’t allowed to be weak, ever), and that they easily scratch to the surface and win the battle against his better judgment. After all, he is human despite the government’s opinion that he’s more a weapon than anything else.

You know people at the party have started to notice you both but are pretending not to out of courtesy. Tony definetly has picked up on it and is currently trying to distract everyone with some sort of announcement out of the corner of your eye. He knows, Stark knows…..Stark knew. You had to hand it to him, he really was a genius.

“And if you plan on continuing to be allowed to be apart of my life then I suggest you stop demanding to know everything that goes on in my head!” Steve’s voice rips your attention back sharply to him, a bit of emotional whip lash occurring as you were listening to Steve but also grateful for Tony turning everyone away from Steve. Your eyes never left his but now he seems to be so crystal clear, so diamond edge sharp, that you realize he’s closer than he was a minute ago.

He had continued to lean in and you had stopped leaning back. Your faces were inches apart now and the wrath of those neptune irises of his is directed solely on you. It feels like liquid iron is filling your veins and you get heavier and smaller under that unforgiving gaze. You know you don’t deserve it and that that fury is meant for the unmanifested demons Steve can’t physically punch to death, but you still feel a responsibility to burden it. It might be messed up, but you would rather Steve take it out on you than someone else who didn’t know him as well as you do. The only reason you weren’t mad is because you knew that none of this was meant for you.

And Steve is really fucked up and not by his volitions. He gets a pass, everyone needs a pass sometimes and this is definitely one of those times since Steve is usually so careful, so so fucking careful about how he expresses his true feelings. You’re about to say something, to reach out to touch him because Steve is a very tactile person (gathers strength, comfort, and reassurance from physical touch), when the sound of a fuze being lit sizzles distantly behind you before a soft whistling sound echos followed closely by a huge exploding boom.

You nearly jump out of your skin as fireworks are being set off in a rehearsed and timed fashion. This was Tony’s distraction.

Fizzle, whistle, BOOM!

Steve had frozen after the first firework went off, the side of his face being lit up with reds and blues against the backdrop of the Manhattan evening city scape. Your eyebrows furrow into worry as panic bubbles up in your gut, shards of glass digging into your lungs every time you try to breathe as you watch Steve descend into a full fledged panic attack.

The noise of the fireworks caught him off guard – triggered him.

Steve starts shaking, expression thrown into the disciplined terror of a soldier, before his knees buckle under his own weight and he collapses to the ground, head spinning, chest heaving like a rhino is sitting on it, as reality slips sharply from his grasp.

Fizzle, whistle, BOOM!

“Get down!” Steve shouts hoarsely as he reaches for you and tucks you tightly under the thick curl of his body as he presses his forehead to the floor, hands shaking as they knit behind his head to protect his neck, elbows boxing your upper body beneath him. “It’ll be over soon,” Steve whispers to the soldier under him, the body feels small and soft…a boy’s body…they sent a boy to fight Nazis with Captain America…he can’t let that boy die…that boy needs to live…Stevie’s dead…they killed Stevie…

‘Steve!’ A distant voice calls, one of his men probably, he hopes they’ve taken cover.

Steve shakes his head against the noise of explosions and huddles down on the boy beneath him harder.

‘Steve!’ That sounded like Bucky, he prays to Holy Jesus, Mary, and Joseph that Bucky is safe.

“GET DOWN!” Steve yells with all the force his throat can handle, forehead smashed against the concrete of the ground, hoping Bucky hears him over the noise and takes cover. He wants to look up and move to protect Bucky, but the boy is beneath him…he can’t abandon the boy….the boy can’t die….

‘Steve!’

Rogers here’s his name again but is not going to let his subconscious fool him, the bombs seemed to have stopped but it’s likely that his ear drums have blown. He won’t risk moving, he has to protect the boy…

‘Captain Rogers!’ The voice calls louder this time, sounding right by his ear. Steve doesn’t even flinch and holds steady like he himself is the bomb bunker.

The boy beneath him is squirming. Steve panics before quickly being comforted by the fact that the boy is not squirming out from under him but is in in fact worming closer, wrapping their arms around him actually, holding him closer to them.

Good, Steve thinks shakily, I need to protect the boy…can’t let them kill him too…

His mind is a jumble of his worst memories, some of them sharp and stabbing, others falsely lulling and poisonous. Steve can’t grab hold of anything and he’s falling falling falling in his own goddamn mind. Or its not his mind, Steve’s mind, but their mind, America’s mind, Captain America’s mind, the fucking world’s mind –

“Steve! My love, you’re crushing me!”

My love…

Sarah called him that.

Steven, my boy, my love…

“Ma?” Steve thinks he says it out loud, his ears feel like they have cotton in them and his lungs are clogged. “Ma is that you?”

Suddenly Steve’s over come with the most unbearable fear.

“Ma!” He yells, no longer aware of anything other than the boy he still readily clutches to his person as he sits up – he has to sit up, the bombs might not be done but his mother is here! “Ma you gotta go home! It ain’t safe here! Don’ care how you managed to get yourself to the front, but you can’t be here Ma! Get some where safe! They’ll kill ya too like they killed me! I’m sorry I let them kill your boy, your Steven, but please Ma, Ma please, please! RUN!”

Steve can’t see and he feels wetness on his cheeks and the boy – he has to protect the boy – now still as a corpse in his arms. He keeps shouting for his mother to run! Run Ma! Before they get ya! and holds the boy – Oh God he feels dead! – in his arms tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter. The boy can’t be dead, he can’t die, not him too…not him too!

‘Steve you’re killing her! Let her go!’

Bucky’s voice rattles loud and echoy in his ears as strong forceful hands start trying to pry Steve’s arms off of the boy –

“NO!” Steve feels himself roar, “NOT HIM TOO! NOT THE BOY, SPARE THE BOY!”

‘Steve this is the year 2017. You’re in Avengers’ Tower in Manhattan. It’s the Fourth of July. The war is over. My name is Bucky, pal, remember me? Yeah that’s it, look at me, come right back to me, there you go, you’re safe. You’re safe. Your Ma is safe, Sarah is safe.’

Steve slowly starts to blur back to reality as the fear and panic that grips him loosens its claws tick by tick as that voice continues talking, repeating those words, those sentences, over and over again. Pieces of his body blur into his conscious awareness slowly, like the static in the TVs. The first sense to regain itself is his hearing. The voice continues talking and Steve realizes he’s been hushing at him this whole time when earlier he could have sworn the voice was screaming at him. His vision turns into a Pollack painting of black spots, the world yawning into color through multiple circles before widening into a single picture. Touch and body awareness is the last thing that Steve shivers into reality with.

“There ya are pal, now just gimme Y/n, slowly now,” Bucky, that’s Bucky’s voice and Bucky’s face in front of him. Steve is shaking like he use to when he caught pneumonia before the war. He realizes there is a very still body in his arms – the boy.

“N-no!” Steve redoubles his efforts in holding the boy to his chest, pulling back from Bucky, “B-buck – buck, we gotta protect the boy, he’s only a boy, we can’t let them kill ‘em –,”

“Steve,” Bucky says, his eyes cutting through the last of Steve’s haze with a sharp tender slice. “That ain’t a boy, that’s Y/n. Look down, you’re crushin’ her,”

Steve doesn’t know what expression he’s making, his face feels numb, but he does look down and finds not a young boy but a girl – a woman, in fact. It takes Steve all of a second of not knowing who you are before he gasps and quakes ever more violently. Your eyes are closed to let your lashes rest sickeningly dainty against your skin, face leached of blood and emotion, body limp and feeling extraordinarily frail in his enhanced grip.

“Oh God,” Steve sobs, a horrid wet sound – he killed you, “Oh GOD!”

“Steve!” Bucky quickly interjects sensing the new wave of panic, “She’s alright pal you just squeezed her so tight she passed out,” He gently transfers your dead weight out of Steve’s violently shaking arms and cradles you to his chest, trying not to rush to check your pulse when he can hear your heart beat. “Her heart’s beatin’ strong Stevie, strong and true and just for you.” Bucky turns back to Steve, offering a weak smile, feeling shaky himself and thoroughly disturbed but keeping it together for Steve.

The terrace is clear. Party and strangers are gone. Only family are here now hovering worriedly in a tight half-circle a few yards away to give Steve space. They all know what a panic attack feels like, and this one was really bad. Steve went so far under, none of them have ever witnessed him get pulled out of his mind so violently like this before.

Tony is no where to be found.

Steve watches Bucky’s fingers against your pulse point in your neck like a life-line, dragging his eyes up to look at his second in command in a desperate way he’s only ever let show a total of three times in his entire life. Bucky recognizes that desperation, saw it in Steve’s eyes, heard it inSteve’s cry of his name as he fell down down down through the whirling snow.Bucky’s mood shifts into dangerous emotional territory so he softly motionsSteve over, shoving the frosted memories away.

“Here put your fingers right here, you’ll feel her pulse pumpin’good,” Barnes encourages shakily, trying to sound as reassuring as he can asSteve scoots closer to him. Steve leans over you in Bucky’s arms and slowlybring his fingers to replace Bucky’s at your neck. Thud-thud Bucky hears and Steve feels, “There it is, told ya punk,”

Steve still shakes but not as uncontrollably at the confirmation that you weren’t…dead. The fact that you easily could have been quickly steals what semblance of stability Steve had managed to bargain from his demons, and loses ground again fast.

“God I could have killed her–,”

“I’ll be hearin’ noneof that now,” Bucky interrupts sternly knowing Steve’s first instinct is tobeat himself into the grave. He knew the instinct well. “Y/n knew what she wassignin’ up for when she hitched her wagon to yours, and she’ll tell ya that thedamned second she regains consciousness, but until then I’ll be makin’ sure youdon’ think up anythin’ stupid.”

Hearing Bucky talk like they were back in 1934, just two kids roughing it before the war, makes Steve sob again. He presses the quivering heel of one hand into his forehead to steady himself, not daring to move the other one from the grace of your pulse point. Bucky doesn’t say anything, knowing what caused Steve’s sob this time. It wasn’t a panicked sob but a sad one, a mourning one, a nostalgic one. Bucky knows Steve’s panic attack took him back to that time; Barnes doesn’t envy the weight Steve is baring at this moment.

“Hey pal, ain’tnothin’ ever gonna be easy for us,” Bucky attempts to ease mostly for Steve buta little for himself as well, “But we gotta make it through. You got yourself asweet lass here and a family, we got ourselves a chance at another family. Weare the luckiest bastards on this planet for bein’ blessed with the chance atredemption and love –,”

“After gettin’ unjustfully punished like we was it’s the leastthis shit universe could do, it owes us.” Steve adds on vehemently, fallinginto his easy Brooklyn home tongue with Bucky as he regains his sense of selfand the constant stream of his usual anger breaks through the dam of hissorrow.

“Damn right!” Buckydeclares for the both of them.

“Damn right,” Steverepeats quietly, petting your face now with such tenderness and care saidaccused universe feels rightfully guilty.

When you wake your head feels a little dizzy but everything seems to be in order. Without opening your eyes you register you’re laying down in an unfamiliar bed and it smells like a hospital. The med-wing of the Tower then. The last coherent thought you had before the forced black, was the panic and horrified second-hand pain you felt for Steve. He had been calling for his mother…

You squish your eyes tighter and try to deny the tears slipping from the corners of your shut eyes and down your cheeks to drip into your ears.

How did you not see this coming? An attack that bad had to have displayed signs. Yes you knew something was bothering Steve, but you tried so hard to respect his privacy you were most of the time afraid to ask. You usually let Steve bring it up. And not asking what was wrong sooner resulted in him nearly losing his mind to fear and anguish. A thought flashes suddenly in your mind and your eyes flash open – Tony.

He had set off the fireworks to distract everyone from Steve and your argument. If you know anything about Stark, it’s that he will be trying to take the blame for all this. With a start you realize that’s what you’re trying to do too. Blame yourself for not helping Steve sooner. You swallow against an ash-dry throat, feeling suddenly thirsty, and are crushed with the need to see Steve. Your fingers itch to touch him, your eyes burn with hot tears to look at him, your arms shake to embrace him, and your soul weeps to connect with his. You should feel weary of returning to Steve’s embrace after he almost crushed you alive (turned out you had a broken rib or two, you could feel the ache even lying down and not moving, no biggie though) but you couldn’t even try to convince yourself to be anything but desperate for it.

Steve is your home. And even if that home is broken, it still keeps you safe and warm and loved. Quickly you search the obnoxiously bright room having to squint like a motherfucker to see anything against the light. You turn your head to find exactly who you’re looking for sitting in an extremely uncomfortable looking plastic chair even though there’s a nice cushioned one placed against the wall behind him.

What a martyr.

Your home is looking down at his too-big hands folded messily in his lap, golden lashes sweeping long and soft over his high cheekbones as he blinks slowly. You know he knows you’re awake, probably listened to your heart come out of its sleep rhythm before you even gained full consciousness. Biting your lip, you stare at him knowing it’ll take months to get Steve to even consider the idea of forgiving himself for hurting you.

“Steve,” Comes your sleep hoarse voice.

He doesn’t do anything but blink slowly again. His shoulders are hunched and his body sags in the small chair you’re actually impressed he’s fit himself into and that it hasn’t collapsed under all that supersoldier. His hair is disheveled like he’s been pushing his bangs up – a nervous habit, a worried habit, a frustrated habit, an angry habit. Bucky told you privately one time, that to him that’s when Steve seems most like his old self. Steve before Captain America always pushed his hair out his face and fidgeted like he had ants in his pants. And as you watch Steve sitting so still, you can’t help but notice that how he’s holding himself is out of place on his big body. He’s sitting how a smaller person would sit, how his former body would sit. You’ve seen him do that before, in the privacy of your apartment, in the rare vulnerable moments he allows himself. And it breaks your heart to see it now.

“Steve,” You try again, this time with much more emotion in your voice.

His name curls out into the space between you like a tendril of smoke, fragile but fragrant – asking. Steve still doesn’t look up but he readjusts himself slightly in the chair with a quiet sigh. His shoulders rest unevenly on the back of the chair, his torso curled and squished into the opposite of its usual formal erectness, his hips crooked against the seat, one thigh is higher than the other, his hands still mangled in the rocky terrain of his lap, and the long long line of strong legs tangle on the way to the floor.

You gingerly shift your arm across the bed, not lifting it so you don’t tweak your broken ribs, but slide along the fabric of the sheets reaching for him. You’re so focused on Steve’s downturned face you missed that there is an IV in the vein on the back of your hand. You didn’t particularly like needles (I mean who does) but you refrained from wincing in favor of sparing yourself some pain. Steve watches your hand work its way slowly towards him and when your fingers reach the halfway mark between your side and the edge of the bed, Steve breaks.

He lurches out of his seat and ducks to your side, delicately swooping your hand into both of his enormous ones. You feel him kneel, although it doesn’t deny him any lack of height with those long enhanced femurs of his. If he looked up he could catch your eye but he only cups your hand in his, cradling your appendage like it’ll explode if he holds to fiercely – or holds on at all really. You want to chide him for treating you like you’ll break, but you hold your tongue when you realize that you really could…break.

“Hey,” You whisper as your fingers climb the canyon of his cupped hands to grip his wrist, wanting to hold on to him even if he won’t hold on to you.

He did hold on to you, Your mind interjects quietly, and he broke you.

A flare of anger at yourself heats your gut, how dare you not be strong enough to take care of Steve.

“Steve please look at me.” Steve didn’t look at anything but your fragile fingers latched on his thick wrist.

“You’re so weak,” His voice startles you not because he was loud, actually quite the contrary, he sounded so defeated, “You’re so breakable. I warned you not to trust me, I warned you that I wasn’t strong enough to watch myself. I told you this would happen and you didn’t listen. Hopefully this puts some perspective on our relationship and gives you the reality check you didn’t want.”

He keeps his eyes down – ashamed – as a couple strands of his golden hair fall into his eyes (it had gotten a little long you offhandedly note, like how it was before he cut it short after waking up – how it was in 1944). You let his words have weight, let them settle in the air and be respected and considered, making sure Steve understood you really heard him. With matching graveness you respond in the only way you could ever want to,

“I love you Steven.”

And with those words you break Steve’s feeble angry front line of defense he always scrambles to put up; his face crumples. He oh so gently lowers his forehead to your hand still shakily clutching his wrists, careful not to disturb the IV. You feel him practically vibrating with the effort not to cry or make a single sound of anguish. Internally you sigh with frustration at not being able to reach with your other hand across your body to cup his face. Instead you hold on to his wrist with as much strength as you dare, not wanting to engage any muscles in your torso that could aggravate your ribs. Broken ribs were really a bitch but they were worth it if it meant you could love Steve Rogers.

“You could snap me in half and I’d still love you, broken body and all.” Comes your second attempt at a confession.

Steve’s body heaves at the imagery and this time he does sob out loud. You bite your tongue – what the fuck were you thinking?!

“Okay yeah b-bad example, but you – you know what I mean.” You pause momentarily watching this great man sagging over your hand and think maybe he doesn’t, “Well you better know what I mean Steve Rogers, because sometimes you can be so thick in the head I wanna shake you till all those perfect teeth Tony’s always going on about rattle.”

A weird suffocated watery noise emits from Steve’s throat and you grin knowing you got him to laugh, even if you feel wetness on the back of your hand. So you eagerly push on, simply dying with the need to see him smile and those dark seafloor eyes shin into bright cerulean.

“Yeah, and if you think that’s the only thing that’ll rattle you’ve got another thing coming! That brain of yours could use a healthy swirl or two in that pretty blonde head, maybe stir in some common sense. Because if you think for one fucking second that I don’t love you with every stupid weak breakable bone – every fucking non-enhanced cell – in my body, then we need to get you a head x-ray.”

Steve chokes on another wet laugh and his fingers twitch to hold your hand but force themselves to relax again. Progress. You press determinedly on, all fucks thrown to the wind.

“You’re my home Steve, you big dolt,” You start with a little less humor this time, the tenderness in your voice is so thick its almost a texture you could physically touch, “We’re end game. I mean for me at least, and I’ve never said that out loud before because I didn’t want to scare you off. I realize I risk doing that right now,” You gulp down air for lack of saliva but force yourself to continue despite you’re flaming cheeks and your doubts shouting over the sound of your own breath, “Seeing as I’m shackled to the bed with an IV and you could up and run and I wouldn’t be able to chase after you. Because I would, chase after you even if I couldn’t catch you. But I’ve tried to communicate this through my touch, how I hold you, when I tell you I love you, but apparently I have to be as subtle as Tony expressing his dislike for capers on his damn baked salmon in order to get it through your thick skull.”

You feel absolutely breathless like you’ve just run a mile even though you’re laying down and have barely been talking for more than ten minutes. Steve still refuses to look at you, say anything, or give any indication to what he could be feeling or thinking. It’s making you nervous as every worst possible reaction runs rampant across the stage of your brain. You feel like you need to say more, but your throat is tight and your brain shrugs dumbly as your tongue frantically requests more words to shove out. Your hand clutching Steve’s wrists starts to shake with its effort to hold on to him, God you feel so weak. The vulnerability you just exposed yourself to admittedly wasn’t helping either.

Maybe you should have saved this conversation for a time when you were well enough to actually run like you said half-jokingly half-actually dead serious. You’re literally about to save face and deny all of what you just said, blame it on the pain meds they probably put you on, but Steve finally responds.

“I’ve,” Steve’s voice cracks under the pressure of his emotion, he clears it a couple times before starting again, head raised off your hand but still faced down and hidden from your searching gaze, “I’ve never been loved this way before.”

A heart beat and a half goes by.

“You frickin’ idiot!” You shout after you digest Steve’s words, wincing when the force of your shout punches at your ribs.

Steve jumps like he was just electrocuted in the butt as his eyes wrench wide open, overflowing saucers of churning ocean, stormy currents making a mess of his irises as he finally locks gazes with you.

“What do you mean you’ve never been loved this way before?!” You chastise huffily as your eyes burn with fierce intent.

“I –,”

“Your Mother?!” You interrupt Steve, “Bucky?! Tony?! Natasha?! Basically the complete entirety of the Aveng –,”

“Y/n!” Steve yells over you as he carefully but quickly places the thick fingers of one hand over your lips to shush you.

You can only retaliate by glaring fiercely at him so you do so with gusto. This outburst hopefully convinces Steve that the blush on your cheeks has nothing to do with your recent confession and everything to do with Steve’s incompetence. Steve sighs and shakes his head fondly as he removes his fingers from your lips only to drag them up your jaw, into your hair line, big thumb tracing one of your brows. He’s looking at you like one would look at pictures of the galaxy, all wonder and awe and endless possibility. Nobody had ever looked at you like that before.

“No one has loved me like you have,” Steve starts when your face falls from its glare, “You love me. Romantically. I, I haven’t had this with anyone. I didn’t have enough time with…with Peggy to develop the connection to this level.” You watch his thick throat work as he swallows and his eyes stray shyly away from yours for a moment before snapping back, “I know people love me, I’m not completely oblivious, I just – I’m just not good at this whole declarations of love stuff.”

Your lips part when you realize he’s going to reciprocate your feelings. In fact your heart blasts off in your chest and gets stuck in your throat as you wait in petrifying suspense. Steve clears his throat again and softly brings his hand away from the side of your face to gently hold your hand still clutching his other wrist. He holds your hand now, really holds it, with both his hands.

“You might as well have been Shakespeare over there, while I’m wrackin’ my brain for ways to tell ya I love you too and that ya basically own my soul.” He offers with that familiar charming sheepish smile of his as he cocks his head to the side a little while his shoulders go up in a mini shrug.

“I’m pretty sure some famous poet said that, you’re doing great.” You whisper so sincerely the universe swoons. Steve swoons too as his cheeks turn an envious shade of pink and his eyes flutter under the intensity of the moment.

“I’m pretty sure no famous poet said that,” Steve counters in a hush of his own once he recovers as he draws closer and closer to you, his eyes gazing longingly down at your gently parted – inviting – lips.

“Maybe….not….exactly….that,” You breathe and eye his full lips as he leans over you since you can’t sit up, your noses brushing now, “Close….enough…thou–,”

And you’re kissing.

Steve’s hands have abandoned your hand in favor of cupping your face like it’s the last real treasure on this planet. He’s careful not to move you too much but his caution doesn’t steal from the unbridled passion of your kiss. It’s bold and subtle and powerful. It’s simple and complex and real. It’s naked and secret and yours. You both sigh through your noses because: home –

“Friday are you getting this?”

You both startle at Tony’s voice booming unapologetically as always in the room, clacking your teeth together a little as Steve jumps.

“No sir,” The female Scottish AI responds smoothly, “I don’t find it moral to record such a private moment.”

Steve lifts his head and slowly closes his eyes with a comical wave of expressions washing over his features. You can’t help but bite the grand smile growing on your lips as you watch Steve above you. Tony continues on, uncaring of the effect his presence has on people per usual.

“But I felt like I was just watching the tear-jerking finale of a romantic drama when the lovers break that last wall between them, and their souls become eternally bound to live on forever in ever-lasting love or something.” You giggle but cut yourself off because ribs, ow. Steve’s eyes flash open to check that you’re okay and then zip to rest with familial tolerance on Tony in the doorway, “I don’t think I’m capable of such emotion so I wanted to have it on file to remind myself that true love is real, Disney doesn’t hold a candle to this.”

“That’s nice sir.” Friday adds with a slight curl to her voice like an amused mother.

“Tony please –,” Steve starts but is promptly interrupted.

“I love you too Cap.” Tony quips, almost interrupting himself with a sharp sniff, before pivoting on his heel and strutting out of the room calling ‘Relationship goals as fuck!’ as the door swings closed behind him.

You’re both sitting on your bed back in your guys’ apartment. Steve has your gift sitting innocently on his lap where you placed it oh about a century ago. He’s just been staring down at it like it’ll explode in his face if he breathes. You know he doesn’t like gifts, but its not technically his birthday anymore, its the day after. Your ribs still hurt but you’re sitting up, waiting for Steve to do anything at this point. All you want is Steve to smile.

“Alright!” Steve grumbles and side eyes you practically staring holes into his ridiculously perfect profile, “I can hear ya thinkin’ all the way from here.”

“Well open the damn thing and I’ll stop trying to give you a telepathic migraine!” You try to scold around a smile as you gesture animatedly to the box in his lap. “It’s not even your birthday anymore so you have absolutely no excuses.”

Steve huffs, realizing he’s defeated, and turns to glare at you as his hands start tearing the paper like steel through butter. You giggle at his usual dramatics and bounce a little in your seat as he opens the cardboard box and looks down. Steve’s barely had a second to take in whats peaking out from under the tissue paper before you jump in,

“I had them custom made!” You burst as you clap your hands together and bring both sets of fingers to your mouth, nibbling on them as Steve delicately rifles through the paper and really gets a clear look at what rests at the bottom of the box.

Crisp dark tan suspenders lay folded neatly before him, shiny bronze buckles winking humbly in the dim light of the bedroom.

Steve’s face goes through a myriad of emotions you can’t keep up with as he reaches two fingers down and gently strokes the tailored fabric, almost like he was petting a wild animal. For a second you wonder if this only made Steve sad, brought back memories of a time lost to history books and old film reels. You had been so excited because you had done your research, went to Bucky for advice on what Steve used to like and everything.

“Do you…do you like them?” You wanted to wait for Steve to say something first, but you’ve been keeping this a secret for so long and you’re desperate to make him happy.

When he stays silent, just staring, face unreadable, your nervous blabbering habit kicks in full throttle.

“We can return them if you don’t like them, I asked Bucky about the style you liked and stuff and he helped, I asked Tony for your measurements because I wanted to get some that fit you just right, so you could wear them and be proud, but I, I know – I know that this was a bit of a risk because it’s such a tender spot for you and I –,”

You were promptly shut up by a fierce kiss that made angels blush and demons smirk.

“I am never going to deserve you.” Steve murmurs lovingly against the pillows of your lips as he shakes his head in disbelief, your foreheads touching and grinding a little at the movement.

And before you could retort because um no what the fresh hell is he talking about? Steve overwhelms you once more with the press of his lips. This time he numbs your brain so thoroughly with his touch that you forget your own goddamn name.

Yahtzee! Writing angst then fixing it with fluff is so satisfying tbh, lemme know what ya think :) THAT WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING STEVE PLS TELL ME IF HE’S WELL CHARACTERIZED xxx

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

Text

🏰⚔️⚔️🐲🐲👑 - DMODT 54 full

Growling and hissing, Eren stalked his cell. He'd heard the bells and horns of the castle, loud explosions falling outside of his cage. With each loud bang, a snarl came from Eren's bloodied and chapped lips. His clothes worn and torn, dirtied and shredded from his near feral state. Left to his own thoughts, and scared beyond words for the life inside of him, his omega had invaded his mind in an attempt to prevent him from breaking completely. With booms above him, the whole castle shaking from the unknown attack, Eren lashed out the walls, attempting to protect his child from the perceived danger, his hands bloodied from continuously futile attempts to break the webs of spell surrounding him. Roaring and screaming, his voice seemed to bounce and echo, screaming for Luca to come. It wasn't the first time he'd cried out to his son before, but they'd threatened to slaughter him and string him up outside the cell if he didn't stop. With the chaos above him, he screamed for his son to come, to be safe within the thicker walls of the now unguarded cells. He couldn't lose both Luca and the child inside of him. Both so incredibly precious to him, and both so incredibly innocent. Another great explosion above him sent dust dancing down from the wall above, Eren reduced to his knees as he coughed. A series of thuds grew closer, a dulled roar followed the loudest thud of all. Wood sent flying as a bloodied guard was thrown through the door with force, the man's chest torn to ribbons by an enraged Luca. Throwing himself against the metal bars, Luca trilled loudly, the sound so familiar to his omega, yet he was let to look up, coughing too hard to for his brain to process anything much outside of his irritated throat "Shit! Luca, what have you... Eren?! Oh, God. Armin! Armin, we need the keys!" "Moblit? Luca?! Bad Dragon! What did you do?!" Two voices that were so familiar. Threats. They could only be threats. Only those who threatened him and his children came down here. Throwing himself at the bars of his cell, he snarled, the effects diminished by his coughing. The cuffs around his wrists tore at his skin as he tried to grab for Luca "Eren...?" "Don't go near him. Give me the keys and stay back" "What's wrong with him? Eren, it's Armin! Your friend..." Friend? What was a friend? His son was right there. He needed him. He needed Luca. He was the only one who could protect him "He's feral. His omega's acting on instinct to protect his children. Once I get the cell door open, you need to stay away from him and Luca, or he'll attack you" "Here... here's the keys" He'd had enough of these two strangers. Luca was staring right at him... why didn't his son come to him? Had he failed him? "L-Lu-ca?" With a jangle of metal, and a long scrape, the obnoxious bars that had held him moved. Eren pushing his way through to the first freedom he'd had in weeks. Throwing himself at Luca, he collapsed over his son. Love. Warmth. Soft scales and belonging "L-Luca..." His son. This was his son. He was ok. They hadn't hurt him "Luca... Luca... my baby..." Trilling, Luca pushed him off, the dragon pinning him down to the dungeon floor as he started licking at Eren's face. This was his son. His Luca was safe and warm... safe. Safe... "Eren? Eren, it's Armin" Snarling at the voice, Luca scolded him with a chirp. Headbutting his mouth, Luca growled. He'd done something wrong? His son was rejecting him? Luca didn't want him? Luca didn't want him? Was he a bad omega? Pushing Luca back, Eren curled in on himself. His mind still under the protection and influence of his second dynamic. He wasn't able to understand why Luca didn't want him. He hadn't meant to leave his son. It hadn't been his choice to go willingly... the voice started again. Luca clawing at the cuffs on his wrists "Eren?" "Stay back, Armin. He and Luca need to work things out between themselves" "We don't have time for this..." "Then we have to make time. Eren's been here this whole time from the looks of it" "No wonder Luca had been so unruly" No one insulted his son, pulling himself up, he growled, Luca trilling again to scold him. Taking Eren's cuffs in his mouth, Luca wrestled with the spellbound metal "What's he doing?" "There's some kind of cuffs around his wrists. I'm going to take a look" "Moblit, you just said to stay back" "That's why I'm going to look. You're going to run if things go wrong" "Don't be stupid. This is Eren" "He's pregnant and he's scared. We don't know what's happened to him since he went missing. You were ordered to stay in the castle where you are safe, and this is hardly safe" As the stranger came close, Luca growling as he continued his struggles with the cuffs. The man... he was familiar... he knew the face, but from where? "Luca, I want to take a look at them. Can you let me do that? See if I can get those cuffs off your mother?" Trilling, Luca released them. His son trusted this person? "Eren. It's Moblit. I'm going to look at your cuffs now. I'm not touching Luca" Baring his teeth didn't get the stranger to back off. He kind of felt like he knew them... but they weren't his mate, and not the father of his baby... "Armin, there's a red scale in the middle. If I break that, will they come undone?" "Maybe? I don't know" Luca licked at his face, the stranger looking at the little dragon "I'm not going to hurt Eren, but we need to get these off him. It might look like I'm trying to hurt him, but I'm not. So please don't kill me like you did the guard" Kill? Luca had killed someone? Whining, Eren looked to his son, Luca hanging his head. Luca wouldn't kill. He was just a baby "It's ok... I've got this. Hold still Eren, for once I'm actually thankful for all this sh... stuff Hanji makes me keep on hand" Ignoring the kicking and hissing omega, Moblit hacked at the red scale in the middle of Eren's cuffs with a broken screwdriver. Trilling louder and louder, Luca gave a small roar as Moblit snapped through the scale, breaking the spell holding the cuffs in place. Eren's magic rushed through his body as he threw the disgusting objects. Now freed, he could hold his son. Casting a glare in the man's direction, he cautiously reached out, taking Luca into his hold. Breaking down into sobs as he held him close "Moblit?" "We should leave them for now" "We can't leave him!" "Eren needs to come out this on his own. He can't when he sees us as an enemy. We need to send word of what we've found, and send Petra's squad down to guard the hall" "They're alphas. I'll stay" "Armin" "He's my best friend. I'm staying Moblit" The man who'd he'd helped him crept back with his hands raised. Eren couldn't understand why he hadn't hurt him. Did they want him to do something? He couldn't do anything... he just wanted to hold Luca, but Luca was staring to wiggle in his hold, chirping urgently as he did. Did Luca want him to do something? Something to do with strangers? Because he knew them? "Luca?" Taking his hand in his teeth, his son pulled until Eren got that he wanted him to stand. Luca wanted him to go with him? Go where? He didn't want to go. He didn't think it was safe... there were loud noises out there "Luca...?" Tugging harder, Luca's teeth tore into his hand. His magic was still working to heal the rest of him, but his son was a force to be reckoned with. Eren's free hand protecting his stomach as he was forced along. He hated the cell he'd been left in, yet being out of it felt too open... he missed the closeness of the walls. Knowing that no one was coming for him from those three sides, but outside of the dungeons, he could hear the explosion even louder. Every now and then an explosion would hit the castle, the magic webs pulsing with blue through their purple. Something big was going on... Luca wanted him to do something about it? Guided up the stairs, his legs protested, his body weakened from captivity, but to see sunlight again... He staggered over to the window, Luca letting go of his hand so he could jump upon the sill, giving a cry as he did. Outside, there was an explosion, thick black smoke drifted across the sky. Gun powder, fire and blood. In the back of his mind, the word "war" came to mind. Eldia was at war... Luca wanted him to do something about it... his son whining sadly at the explosions, his claws scratching at the window. Sinking down to sit in front of the window, Eren buried his head in his hands. War... he needed do something... but he needed to protect his children... but Luca wanted him to do something about what was happening outside... He couldn't think. He couldn't process... what was he supposed to do? * Bringing his breathing under control the first thing Eren noticed was that he wasn't in his cell anymore. His body wasn't torn up thanks to his own stupidity and fear. The second thing he noticed was Luca wedged across his lap, having forced himself between Eren's swollen stomach and legs. His son whimpering at each loud bang outside the walls. What the fuck was going on? Raising his head, his breath caught. Armin was huddled in much the same position across from him. Blinking, for a moment he didn't know if he could trust his eyes "A-Armin?" "Eren? Is that... really you?" Armin looked scared... "I... what... what's going on?" "Eren?" Why was he saying it like it was a question? He was himself? "Armin, what's going on? What's happening? Why am I here? And why are you there?" "We're at war with Marley. You went missing for weeks... 5 weeks Eren... you were here the whole time" Armin's eyes glistened with unshed tears. War with Marley? What? Why? Because he was gone? "War?" The word fell from his lips softly "Zeke and Erwin didn't want to go to war. They searched everywhere for you...for the first two weeks. Zeke, he was so worried. He thought Erwin had taken you away. Erwin thought Zeke had... then Zeke returned to Marley. Three days later war was declared. Queen Dina said you broke the terms of your marriage by running away. Historia and Ymir swore you left Draecia, and guards reported you returning. Eren... we didn't know you were here... it was so scary..." Crawling over to him, Armin wrapped his arms around him "Moblit and I found you. Luca lead us to you... you were feral. We couldn't get near you... I was so scared" Oh.... feral... Feral? Was that an actual thing? Armin whimpered as another explosion went off "Sorry. They reached the castle grounds with dragons... the bombs only started a couple of days ago" "They have dragons?" "Eren, I'm so scared. Erwin told me I had to remain here, but he's on the front line... Mikasa's squad is with him... they left me here" "Mikasa... and Erwin" Armin nodded, not letting the fact Eren stank stop him from holding him tighter "All our friends are fighting. What if they're already dead? I hate this. I hate this, Eren. Why do I have to stay here?" Probably because he was heir to the kingdom if Erwin died "Shhh. Ok, Armin. Ok. I need you to do something for me" "Y-you do?" "I need you to watch Luca" "What?" "This was is because of me. I need to find Zeke and Erwin before things get worse" "You can't! They're on the front lines, nearly Shinganshima. Erwin rode out the moment the warships hit the coast" "Armin, if I can get there, I can stop this. You need to look after Luca for me" "You can't go! Not like this. You need to eat and shower... people need to... to see you or something! You're my best friend... I can't... you can't leave me... Please, Eren. I don't know what to do" And Armin thought he did? Eren had no real idea other that he needed to find Zeke and Erwin. He needed to try to bring this war to an end. Luca was terrified. Armin was confused and lost. Mikasa was on the front lines... Fuck... Ok. He needed to get Luca somewhere safe first. His omega was screaming at him that he needed to protect their son "Armin, take me your quarters. You're right. I need food, and I stink. You looked after Luca for me, didn't you?" "He didn't want anyone else near him... He was going crazy... he must have been trying to tell us you were here the whole time" "He's a good boy... my beautiful boy" Armin pulled back to wipe his face, his friend looked a wreck. Crying, he snorted, trying to lighten his tone "You really stink" "You don't smell that great either. Can you help me?" "Yeah. Yeah. Of course. I'm really happy you're home, Eren" Did it count given he'd been home the whole time? "Thanks, Armin" * The hot water stung at his skin like a rain of needles, but fuck if it didn't feel amazing to be clean. 5 weeks Armin had said. 5 weeks of being stuck in his own filth and rotten clothes. No wonder he'd gone insane. Stepping out the shower, he wiped the condensation off the mirror to find he didn't look as horrible as he'd thought he would. He still looked like shit, his body was extremely weak, but his baby was kicking... that filled him with more relief and happiness than the shower did. Next came trimming his hair and brushing his teeth. It was the simple things in life that he'd missed the most, and if he was to be taken seriously, he needed to not look like he'd been held in the dungeons. Covering himself with two towels, his omega wouldn't let him leave the bathroom with his stomach exposed. He'd grown a little in captivity, but not so much as look due like he should. Padding out the bathroom, Armin was pacing back and forth "What happened?" His friend jumped visibly as he was pulled from his thoughts "You were in there for so long, I was worried..." "Sorry. I really needed to clean up... I tried to do my hair, it doesn't look too bad, does it?" Armin raised an eyebrow. The gesture just didn't suit him "What? What is it?" "You... how are you even walking? They kept you in a cell. And now you're complaining about your hair? It'd been weeks. Weeks, Eren. Weren't you sick? Why didn't you find a way to tell us you were down there? Why were you even down there? And the baby... are you still pregnant? That couldn't be good for it..." Armin broke down into tears, stumbling over to throw his arms around him again "I thought you were dead!" Wailing against him, Eren turned to protect his belly as he held Armin "Armin. We don't have time for me not to be ok... We have to help our friends. The baby is still kicking. They're still there. Yes. I'm completely exhausted and confused. I'm scared by all this space around me, and as fucked up as it is, I want to go back to the cell... I'm terrified, and I'm starving. I don't know what it means to be feral. I know I'm not doing great... I don't feel great... but we can't stop to rest" "You need to rest. Zeke and Erwin were both beside themselves. Mikasa tried to kill his Zeke's personal guard, convinced he'd ordered them to hurt you" "It... it was Queen Dina. I don't really remember what happened. Zeke hated Eldia, but he grew attached to the baby. I know he's a bad alpha, but he also tried to help me. I have to find him and Erwin before they get themselves killed" Stupid shitty Erwin. The man only had one arm, why would he even ride out to battle? He was just a burden? No. Burden wasn't quite the right word. He was still a strategist, but with one arm he was limited in the ways he could protect himself "You can't go like this. Please let me send a messenger" "Armin, we can't risk any more people being hurt in this war. In an ideal world I'd have time to stop and rest, but while I'm resting they could both die. Please listen to me. I'm the only one who will be fast enough to go. Erwin knows my dragon form. If he sees me, he'll know this war is a trap, and might be able to stop this senseless slaughter. I know it's hard. I know I'm always leaving you behind, but you're my precious friend. My brother. I can't have anything happen to you, or to Luca. Eldia needs you... Now, I need to get dressed. Then we need to eat and find the others. Who's still here?" Armin stuttered "M-Moblit. Habji's in command. Petra's squad returned from the port to reinforce the castle..." Petra might be a bitch, but she still loved Eldia. Also, Levi had trusted her and her squad "Ok. Where are they?" "The royal library. It's more protected then sunroom" "Alright. Can you clean Luca up? He's got blood on him" "He killed a guard. The guard at the dungeon door... he tore his chest to shreds" Luca had done what now?! His poor baby boy "Does he scare you?" "No... I mean, he had it coming. I can't believe you were so close. Luca hasn't been the same without... it's just... I know he's a dragon..." Armin was freaking out "Armin, Luca trusts you. He won't hurt you. I trust you know that" "I..." "Please take care of my son while I get dressed" "I grabbed some of Erwin's clothes... I didn't know what to get" That was better than charging into battle wearing two towels and an attitude for armour. Plus, he didn't have a lot of clothes that would suit his body shape given how big his stomach was now "It'll be fine. Thank you" Forcing himself not to scoff down every morsel of food in front of him, Eren's stomach still tried to repel what he'd eaten. The stew was too rich for his sensitive stomach, causing him to throw up into his mouth as he mentally begged for it to stay down. With a full stomach, he wanted to nap, yet he couldn't allow himself to sit still or stop moving. If he did, he'd surely fall asleep on the spot, leaving everyone in danger. He knew it was arrogant to think his reappearance would bring an end to this war, but it might be enough to bring Zeke and Erwin together again, then maybe the two leaders would be able to find a way to end all of this. It was shocking how fast the two alphas had been prepared to rush into battle, and devastating to think his disappearance had caused all of it. If he'd just waited for Zeke, maybe things wouldn't have turned out like this? All these people were dying, when none of their deaths were necessary. It broke his heart to think about it. And to think of those already dead and rotting on the battlefield. War was the one thing he'd hoped to avoid, even at the cost of his freedom. Now it was right upon the castle's doorstep, which meant there was no time for resting. Dressed in Erwin's clothes, he'd shredded the end off a sheet to make a makeshift belt that sat beneath his swollen stomach to give the fabric some shape. His chest still tickled from poor condition of his lungs, this was the most dressed he'd been in weeks with the thick clock helping to keep him warm and helping prevent another coughing fit. Pulling his hair back into a bun, Eren left Armin's quarters with him. Luca striding along beside him as he held himself tall. Everyone they passed could be involved in his detainment, so he wanted everyone to see that he was now free. Even if they sent for help, or word to Dina, Eren was an omega scorned. His people suffering, and to him, it was like someone striking his precious children. He wasn't going to stand for it. Marching to the royal library, the door was guarded by two of the royal advisors instead of guards. Things must have been for there to be a lack of guards at the door of what was now the most important room in the whole castle. Ignoring the way the tried to prevent him from entering unannounced, Eren pushed both wooden doors open with a slight bit of magic, causing everyone in the room to stop what they were doing and stare. All of them shocked over the return of the missing "prince". Locking eyes on the maps rolled over the reading tables, Eren strode forward. Oozing the confidence of man who hadn't been sleeping in his own filth for weeks "Hanji, status report. How far have they advanced, and where is Erwin on the battlefield" Gawking at him, Hanji blinked, her face brightening as Eren shot her down before she could even start "Now is not the time. Armin has filled me in on the gist of things, but right now I need to know where Erwin is, and Zeke too if you have that information" No one appreciated an omega barging in and making demands, let alone the one they thought pregnant to Zeke. Hanji's face took on a more professional expression as Eren reached the table "Soldiers have infiltrated Mitras and rounding up members of nobility. We've taken in as many as we can, but the castle's sustained heavy damage from repeated dragon attacks. "Levi" rode for the port, taking 5 thousand soldiers with him to help with evacuating as many citizens as possible. I don't have the exact numbers of those who rode on with him. As for Zeke, we've had reports he's in Eldia, engaged in battle along the coastline with the anti-naval squads. Marley has 3 dragons in its control. They're distinguished by the thick iron collars around their necks. They'd been concentrating the main attack on the port. Once they take the port, they'll be able to land more reinforcements" Pointing out what she meant on the map, Eren nodded along. Dragons were going to be the biggest hurdle for their soldiers "Can we get mail out?" "As far as I know" "I need you to write to Historia. I need you to inform her that I have returned, and that you'll need all the burn salve she can send. Have those who can move help those wounded down to the lower castle. The mages can use the power of the oracle's altar to cast a protection spell over the place. If the castle falls, that will be the only safe place left. What are our food stocks like?" "We have adequate food for now" Eren shook his head "Then we don't have enough. Have the mages work on seeds and herbs. We'll need them for both food and medicine. No one who asks for aid shall be turned away. Water is to be distributed to all, as well as blankets. It is the job of the guards to keep the peace with the refugees. The people of Eldia must come first, and families are to be kept together. Take a list of those missing or known to be dead for later identification. Despite what we wish, mourning those who have fallen will have to wait, or we who are left will soon join them. Hanji, Armin mentioned battleships. What are they equipped with?" "Anti-dragon harpoon cannons. As well as 50mm shells" "They all run on fuel?" "Yes. Their hulls are reinforced steel. The cannons are wood mounted with full 360 degree range" Alright. First thing he needed to do was take care of the cannons. The harpoons didn't sound like a whole lot of fun, but he'd have to run the risk of being shot down "We feel Zeke is most probably on the front line" "What colours are his troops wearing?" "Red, black and white. Why? What are you planning?" "I'm planning on flying down there" "You can't" "Hanji..." "Eren, you've come out of a drop. Moblit debriefed me on what happened within the cells" "If you mean my turning feral, there seems to have been no real deficient from being held down there in that state. The child inside me lives" "You mean to face both Zeke and "Levi"?" "I do. This war was engineered from the beginning by Queen Dina. I know bringing them together now won't stop things, but we cannot allow either of them to die and fuel the cycle of hatred between Marley and Eldia further" Hanji blinked at him, taking a few moments before letting out a deep breath "When did you become so strong?" "Don't waste time on stupid questions like that. Now. If anything is to happen to you, Levi, or myself, let it be known Armin is to take the throne of Eldia and to rule as it's crown prince. He has both the wisdom and compassion, and it is both mine and Levi's wishes that he do so. I'll be departing for the front lines immediately. Luca, you are to stay here with Armin" Luca wasn't impressed. Jumping up on the table, his son glared at him "Baby boy. I need you to be safe" Chirping, Luca flicked his tail, not impressed. Leaning down, Eren took Luca's face into his hands, nuzzling his forehead as he kissed the spot gently "You are my pride and joy. My baby boy. I know how hard you tried to tell them, and I am so proud of you. I need to know you're safe every moment I am gone, or I might not make it back with my life. Do you understand why I can't take you? Because I love you more than I love myself. I'm going to give you a special mission. I want you to stay with Armin at all times. If something happens, you are to run. Only fight when there's no other option left" Luca trilled sadly "I know. I know, my baby. I promise we'll be reunited soon. I love you" Luca gave a sad chirp, nuzzling back into his kisses "Be good for me, my beautiful son" Releasing Luca, the dragon let out a sad cry. It tore at Eren's heart, but he had a job to do. Looking to Hanji, he gave a nod "Keep them safe" "I will... I wish you wouldn't go. You need to rest and recover. Rushing into battle may... you may go right back into another drop. You're in such a delicate mental state, not to mention physical state. You're pregnant, the battlefield is the worst place for you to be. You may drop again, and if you do..." He already knew it was going to be an enormous strain on his body, but he also knew he had to go. They didn't have time for this "Then tell me, what is it you can do?I'm the only one who will reach their in time, and the only one here who can shift into a dragon. It's like I told Armin, in the time I waste resting, our friends could be dead. Do this for me Hanji. Protect our people, and protect our home" "Eren..." "I have to go. Stay safe, Luca" He kissed his son's forehead again. He was coming back for him. For all of them... but mostly Luca.

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