#clearly i am still pretty fucking pissed. or at least i thought i had calmed down until i got that text

[mirmidones]

ok bitter bitch moment, but i HATE when people repeatedly do not even try themselves to do something and just want me to do it for them.

even when it's something absolutely idiotic, like idk, bc of construction works the main entrance to the school is closed but there is literally a sign on the door that explains how else to enter. all you have to do is read and follow instruction. it's not like i did anything different yesterday when i got there. "nooo i still dont know im scared ill wait for you outside so you can show me" why. just get the fuck inside. or like when they ask me the time schedule literally everyday and at one point im like. or you could look it the fuck up. yknow. just how i do. since it is a class you also want to attend. it's not like the school desk calls me personally to let me and only me know. "what trains do i have to take to come see you?" i dont know, what trains are there? why cant you do it for yourself . and like i obviously dont mind being asked for help and offering help in general. i do mind it when people my own age start treating me like im their second mom or something. and i know it takes 2, i could just shut up and not be helpful but then most of the times it damages me as well as them and when it doesnt it is still super fucking annoying bc i have to sit there and listen to them whine and do nothing about anything and just. idk. patiently pretend to feel anything other that pure rage. and that does feel like a waste of my time

[cremationstayshun]

Kiss with a Fist - Chreon

Summary: If one thing was certain, is that Leon S. Kennedy knows how to push buttons. Something from the beautiful man that was Chris Redfield was better than nothing, right?

Right?

Trigger Warnings: Implied sexual assault/rape

AO3

Leon sneered at the lone double bed in the hotel room. He could hear his roommate for the night lumbering in behind him.

"Well at least it's a king," Chris shrugged trying to maintain neutrality with the prickly DSO agent standing next to him. He received a scathing look as a reward for his efforts. Chris took a deep breath to simmer down his exasperation. Their flight back was delayed due to a blizzard, which was currently screaming at the windows outside. While the sleeping situation was not ideal, it was better than staying the night at the airport. As much as he tried to remain civil and gain favor with Leon, the man seemed to push back harder and harder. He looked back to the man who was eyeing up the couch against the opposite wall, his face barely giving anything away. It was enough for Chris to know what he was thinking.

"Oh, come on, are you serious?"

Sharp, blue eyes cut over to him, "what?"

"Why are you so dramatic? We can just share the bed, Kennedy."

Leon did not answer right away, but the pause was barely noticeable. A crease formed between his brows in thought and his eyes darted across the other's face before his face hardened. A vicious smirk fell over his face, instantly setting Chris on edge. He practically sauntered across the room, reminding the BSAA captain of a predator. He came up to where Chris had moved closer to the bed and met the larger man's eyes defiantly. Chris shifted quickly into defensive. He was not about to put up with the DSO agent's shit.

"You that desperate, Redfield? Valentine isn't around, so you gotta shoot your shot at the nearest warm body?"

"The fuck? That's not what I am asking for and you know it. You're so fucking difficult."

"Yeah unlike you. Evidently, it's easy to get in the pants of the great BSAA Golden Boy."

"Better than being the bitch of the DSO who crawls around for any scraps that they throw your way!" Chris' voice has risen in volume at this point, and he was chest to chest with Leon and he felt a prickling in his face as his anger grew. The little fucker remained perfectly calm with his stupid perfect hair and that just pissed Chris off more.

The calm was downright eerie when Kennedy responded, "Yeah, they fucked everything out of me like a cheap whore to keep her safe, and I let them. But at least I was able to protect her because I wasn't hung up on my boss betraying me instead of fucking me."

CRACK

Leon felt the impact but could not register the pain as he was losing his balance. The backhand sent his body into a spiral and he would blame it on exhaustion that Chris actually got a hit on him. His ribs which were bruised from their mission slammed into the arm of the couch which was barely padded. He could definitely feel the sharp edge of its frame jam into his tender flesh. He was thankful that he kept himself from making a sound. It took him a moment to breathe through the pain and when he finally looked back up Chris was hovering over him, hands up and not touching him, and his face pinched in guilt and worry. He opened his mouth, probably about to apologize or ask what he needed or some other dumb caring thing that will just make Leon love the man more. He could not let that happen when he was already so vulnerable. He easily cut the other off, still keeping his cocky persona, "That all you got? I've been hit harder while getting railed on some nice fat cock."

It’s like your pretty boy face was made to be bruised, kid. 

The man cycled through many emotions which were etched clearly in his expressions. Shock, confusion, a strange grimace that Leon couldn't read, and then a grim determination that almost made the smaller man regret his words. Chris pulled him up easily by the front of his shirt. Grip so tight, that Leon can hear the fabric creaking in strain. His eyes burned with a frightening determination. His gaze flicked down to Leon's mouth, but he made no move to press his own against them. He took his other hand and shoved three thick fingers past those slightly parted lips and down his throat, making the DSO agent gag and moan around them. Fuck. Yes. His tongue quickly worked against the digits, trying desperately to memorize Chris' flavour since this will likely be his only chance with how furious the man seemed. His breath was being cut off in a delightful way and he decided then that he would take whatever he got tonight.

"You're right about one thing at least. You really are a cheap whore huh?" He pulled his fingers out of Leon's throat. He coughed and gasped for air, his legs shaking with arousal and something he couldn't quite explain. Drool dripped down his chin but that was the last thing on his mind as he looked up at Chris through hazy vision. The other man looked harsh, cold in a way he had never seen before. Leon's entire body trembled, help up only by the hand gripping his shirt. Leon was struggling with catching his breath, but Chris didn't seem to care, "absolutely pathetic. The great Leon S. Kennedy is such a slut that it just takes the promise of cock to make him listen."

Leon's world tipped off balance as Chris shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress. The plushness off it was a pleasant surprise but he did not have enough time to think about it as Chris' voice sliced through his thoughts.

"Strip."

Leon stared up at the other man for a moment, absently not believing this was happening. Chris, however, was out of patience, "Strip or I'll cut them off."

You’ll do anything to be stuffed full on a nice dick.

The threat was very serious from what Leon could tell. He scrambled up onto his knees and started undoing the buttons of his shirt. Apparently, the man was really fed up. As soon as the buttons were undone, he yanked the material down to Leon's wrists and deftly twisted it so that the man was trapped. He could easily get out if he tried but before he could he was pulled down the bed with the force of the tugs on his pants and boxers. He was quickly exposed to chilled air drafting from the windows. He wasn't sure if it was that or Chris fully clothed and towering over him that caused shivers to wrack through his body. He figured he probably went from predator to prey for the other man, his eyes wide and anxiety forming deep in his gut. It was quickly forgotten, though, as he was flipped onto him stomach and his ass pulled into to air. He tugged at the shirt tangled around his wrists. Leon managed to free then but not without leaving friction burns behind.

"Spread your legs." The command was simple, and Leon could not do anything but obey. Apparently, it wasn't good enough and Chris took a moment to jerk Leon's legs further apart, forcing him to bow his back unnaturally. He knew Chris was still fully clothed and that did so much to make Leon feel even more vulnerable beneath him. A large hand grabbed one cheek and spread it to expose the tight pink hole there. The feeling of cold air sending another shiver through his body. He had to force himself to remember that this was the only way Chris would touch him. He gasped as a dry thumb pushed against the tight ring of muscle, forcing it open. The dry pull of it thrusting in and out soon followed and Leon had to clench his jaw to hold in the sounds that wanted to pour out. He realized he was painfully hard which caused his face to redden. The flow of blood warring between flowing north and south made him dizzy. He felt like everything was swaying around him, adrift at sea and lost in the own torrent of his mind. The sharp pain of Chris' other thumb pushing into him was like the beam from a distant lighthouse.

You’ll spread your legs for anyone, won’t cha?

"If I didn’t already know how much of a slut you are, I do now that I see how loose your cunt is."

Leon could barely believe the words coming out of Redfield's mouth. They were filthy and caused the thump of his heart to be deafening. Leon hadn't had sex since-- well it's been a long time. Either way the words still made feel cheap and dirty, but the arousal was undeniable. In his embarrassment there was no words that he could say to fight back.

"Bet a whore like you doesn't even need lube."

He didn't take the words seriously until he felt Chris lean forward and spit harshly onto his spread hole. He wanted to cry but would not allow himself. As much as he did like it rough at times, this is not what his first time with Chris was like in any of his fantasies. This Chris was someone that he had only seen directed at his most heinous enemies. He was ripped out of thoughts when the larger man pulled his thumbs from his hole and quickly replaced them with three thick fingers. It was all too much at once and the sound that tore from his throat was a strange mix of a moan and sob. He rested his cheek on the bed and breathed raggedly through the painful stretch, pleasure still burning through his veins despite everything. He was given a few rough thrusts that provided no pleasure before they were yanked out.

Tense silence pervaded the room only disrupted by Leon’s ragged breath and the jingle of a belt being unbuckled. Leon could barely move except a slight adjustment to be able to watch Chris over his shoulder, sure the other man could see how much of a mess he was. The larger man’s eyes were impossibly dark, and lust was clear even through harsh downturn of both his brows and lips. The anger was clearly visible. Leon swallowed even though his mouth and throat had long gone dry.

C’mon comrade, I know a slut like you can take it. Don’t you disappoint me, now. 

"Fuck, Kennedy," the words were punched out between thrusts and clenched teeth, the man below him practically sobbing into his arm. Leon felt like he had lost time somewhere, but it was hard to tell with the miasma that was his psyche. His heaving chest was pressed into the bed and hips held in the air by a bruising grip. He was tight, not prepared nearly enough before he has speared on the obscenely large cock of one Chris Redfield. He practically wailed when a large hand came down on his ass.

"You just can't shut the fuck up, can you?"

The words pierced through his haze and doused him in shame.

"Such a whore. Bet you'd let anyone fuck you," Another harsh slap. He had stopped thrusting at the bruising intensity as he leaned down and pushed his mouth near Leon's ear, "You get passed around the office as a cocksleeve? I bet the reason you won't shut that slutty mouth is cause you need a dick down your throat to satisfy you."

I always knew you were mouthy. How ‘bout I teach you how to use it?

Cold was creeping through Leon, taking over the pleasured delirium he was previously in. Chris' comforting warmth, despite the previous harsh treatment, (and really that was Leon's fault anyway) was replaced with a familiar and oppressive weight of a body on top of him, taking what it wants. He wanted it to stop. His throat had closed, and it felt like his jaw was wired shut. He couldn't get a sound out. What had felt so euphoric moments ago speeding towards nightmarish. His chest was tight. He couldn't breathe. Was he even breathing? A hand on the space between his head and neck pushed him deeper into the bed and terror alike. He couldn't even fight back. This is what he had wanted wasn't it? He decided to piss Chris off and goad him into sex. Of course, the man would be rough. He hated Leon and he wanted the mouthy agent just to shut the fuck up.

When Leon tried to speak, all he could get out was a thready and pathetic whimper. He felt so small and weak with spots dancing in front of his eyes. He still couldn't tell if he was breathing, focus having closed in to racing thoughts and flashing memories. Rough, battle worn hands, a gun pressed to the back of his head then those hands around his throat pushing him down, a cold gravelly voice in his ear.

That's it comrade. You're so loose, you fuckin’ cocksleeve.

"Leon?"

Chris had been working up into a good rhythm, enjoying watching the gorgeous agent beneath him squirm on his cock. He never thought he would have a day when he would be able to fall into bed with Leon S. Kennedy of all people. Well, it was more like he had pushed the man, but it seemed that he liked it rough and mean and Chris was trying his best to do that for him. His concentration was broken by a small sound from below him. It sounded different from his previous noises, without a hint of pleasure. It was like ice went through his veins as he looked at his bedpartner.

Leon was barely moving. He was practically panting, and his breath wheezed out of him harshly. His eyes were distant and unfocused with tears flowing freely down his cheeks. Blood oozed from his lip where he seemed to have bitten it at one point. Chris instantly loosened his grip on the back of Leon’s head as his protective instincts took over. This clearly was not right to him. Even if he had never been with Leon in such an intimate way before, it felt off. He pulled out from the man, dick already softening as his panic overtook him. When he released Leon’s hip he fell limply against the bed. It reminded Chris sickeningly of a marionette with its strings cut.

“Leon?” He crawled up the bed to lean over the man. He did not seem to notice Chris. He tried calling his name again, but there was no response. He lifted his hand to place it on Leon’s shoulder, and before he could the man flinched violently, another small whimper whistling from his throat. His gaze locked on the larger man’s form. Chris still was not sure that Leon was completely seeing him. He reached out again, this time carefully telegraphing his movements. He could tell that the other was tracking his movements sluggishly with his eyes, but the flinch when Chris made contact was much more subtle.

He just rested his hand on Leon’s shoulder and let the man work through his panic with silent support. It took a painfully long time for the smaller man’s breathing to slow to a even a marginally reasonable pace. Chris didn’t think he was fully back to the present, but the panic seemed to dull enough for him to be comfortable with bundling Leon against him. He ripped the blanket from where it was tucked into the bed as an afterthought and wrapped it around both of them. Leon hadn’t lashed out or freak out more, which Chris decided to take as a good sign. He settled in to wait for Leon to come back to reality, the silence leaving space for an unbearable guilt.

[thearvariblues]

The Mysterious Case of Jaskier's Immortality

Word count: 3601

*

“So nice to see you again, Yennefer,” Jaskier says, putting on one of his many fake smiles.

“Jaskier,” she replies with a smile that almost looks genuine but Jaskier is pretty sure that it’s not. Which she confirms a few seconds later by saying: “Shouldn’t you be dead already?”

“I see you’re as kind as always, my dear. But don’t you worry, Geralt is doing a very good job when it comes to protecting me.”

“Hm,” Geralt sighs resignedly, clearly regretting his decision to spend the night in an inn instead of the middle of a forest.

To be fair, it was Jaskier who suggested it, claiming that he refused to be eaten by angry drowners, no matter how many times Geralt tried to explain to him that the probability of finding a drowner in the middle of a very dry forest is extremely low.

If Jaskier knew they were going to run into Yennefer in the inn, he would have risked the drowners.

“I don’t doubt that,” Yennefer smirks. “But seriously, how old are you, bard?”

“No idea. I stopped counting after fifty, I think.”

“You know, you don’t look fifty,” she says.

“Oh, well, my mother had an elf lover before I was born, so there’s a fifty-fifty chance that I’m not gonna age anytime soon. Sorry,” Jaskier smiles again, sweetly – and this time, it’s genuine.

“As if,” Geralt grunts.

“I’m sorry, dear?” Jaskier blinks.

“Come on, Jaskier, it doesn’t work like that. You’re a viscount, that means your father must have been a viscount, too.”

“You don’t know much about nobility, do you, Geralt?” Yennefer snorts.

“Hm,” Geralt grunts. “Still, he’s not a half-elf.”

“Let me guess, you’re a Witcher, therefore you could smell it if I was? I hate to break it to you, dear heart, but you’re going to have your nose checked.”

“You’re not a half-elf, Jaskier,” Geralt repeats. “You’re not immortal, you just… look young.”

“Yeah, right, you got me,” Jaskier shrugs. “I just look good because I moisturize. Happier now?”

“Much,” Geralt nods. “See? You can be honest if you want.”

“Yup,” Jaskier nods. “Honesty personified. Now please excuse me, I need to go and moisturize some more. Internally. With ale.”

*

“I’m actually a mermaid, you know?” Jaskier grins the next time he’s asked, this time by a very confused and very old Valdo Marx.

“A siren, Jaskier. Not a mermaid,” Geralt sighs, praying to Melitele to give him strength. “And you’d know that, of course, if you actually were a siren.”

“Just so you know, the term siren is actually quite offensive to my people.”

“You mean idiots?” Geralt chuckles. “You’re not a siren, Jask.”

“Can you prove that I’m not?”

“Well, last week you tripped and fell into this creek that was like… knee-deep, and you nearly drowned.”

“I was in shock!” Jaskier proclaims dramatically. “But I have a proof that I am, or at least could be a siren.”

“What proof?”

“Well, my lovely voice, of course!”

“Not as lovely as you think it is,” Valdo Marx snorts.

“Come on, Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, ignoring the old troubadour. “You have much better voice that any siren I’ve ever heard.”

“Geralt of Rivia!” Jaskier gasps, clutching his chest. “Was that a compliment?!”

“Fuck,” Geralt mutters. “I didn’t mean…”

“Really though, Jaskier,” Valdo says. “How?”

“That’s a secret I’ll take to the grave, I’m afraid,” Jaskier grins. “Once I manage to reach it.”

“Keep on with the bullshit, Jaskier,” Geralt growls, “and you can reach it tonight.”

“Fifty years traveling with him, and he still thinks he can scare me. Cute, isn’t he?” Jaskier laughs. “Oh, Geralt you could never.”

“Try me.”

*

“All right, I’ll tell you my secret,” Jaskier winks at Ciri, who lifts an eyebrow. “I’ve got this neat… magic ring.”

“Hmmm,” Ciri observes. “Looks like a normal signet ring to me.”

“Well… Yeah, well, it looks like it, all right, but actually–”

“Jaskier, I was born a princess. This is clearly a Pankratz family signet ring.”

“Damn,” Jaskier groans. “Like father like daughter, eh?”

“Sorry,” Ciri shrugs.

*

“I got myself cursed.”

Triss Merigold lifts an eyebrow.

“Somebody cursed you to live forever, is that so?” she asks and her voice is almost dripping with disbelief.

“More like cursed me,” Geralt murmurs.

“Oh, shut up, Witcher, you know you couldn’t live without me,” Jaskier smiles brightly, and Geralt has to bite his cheek to stop himself from smiling back.

“Hm,” he says instead.

“Eloquent as ever,” Jaskier nods.

“Would you like me to...” Triss clears her throat. “You know, try to lift the curse?”

“No!” Geralt yells before he can stop himself.

“See?” Jaskier beams. “You could never live without me!”

*

“A bruxa,” Jaskier repeats to a young man who claims to be his son, but looks older than his supposed father.

“You’re not a bruxa, Jaskier!” Geralt whines.

“Excuse me, and how would you know?”

“Because I’m a fucking Witcher?!”

“Well, you’re clearly a fucking horrible Witcher if you haven’t noticed until now!”

“I think I’d notice if you tried to sneak out of the camp at nights to feed,” Geralt comments, crossing his hands. “You can’t even sneak out to take a piss, Jask.”

“Maybe I do that on purpose!”

“Besides, bruxae are mostly women.”

“Mostly being the important word here.”

“Fuck’s sake, Jaskier. You won’t even eat a piece of meat if it’s not so well-done that it’s almost cremated.”

“Do you know how disgusting the blood is, Geralt?!” Jaskier groans, and then immediately blinks when he realizes what he just said. “I meant…”

“Case closed,” Geralt nods, satisfied.

“Oh, dear,” Jaskier mutters. “I fucking hate you sometimes.”

“Uhm, my lords, if I may,” the young man says.

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but if you’re aging like a normal human, you’re probably not my son,” Jaskier shrugs. “Sorry. I get it why your mum might be confused, though. It was quite a night, with at least four–”

“And that’s enough,” Geralt says, grabbing Jaskier by the collar and pulling him away from the man. “You know, lifting the curse seems like a good idea now.”

“There isn’t really a curse, Geralt,” Jaskier laughs.

Geralt sighs, his lips curling into a tiny smile that Jaskier cannot see.

“Thank fuck.”

*

“You see, we were in a crazy mage’s tower and I saw this bottle and I thought it was slivovitz, so I drank it, but it seems that it actually was some sort of an immortality potion,” Jaskier explains to a lady at the ball, whose grandmother he’d apparently fucked once, when said grandmother was still a young, unmarried woman.

Geralt only blinks, because it’s the first truly plausible explanation for Jaskier’s mysterious immortality.

“Oh, that must be so horrible to watch everyone you love die!” the woman nods enthusiastically. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me about it in private?”

“Of course, my dear…” Jaskier smiles. “Just… wait a second. How old is your mother?”

“Forty-seven, why?”

Jaskier’s lips are moving silently for a few seconds while he counts, and then thy turn into a wide grin.

“No reason, dear,” he says, offering her his arms. “Shall we?”

When Jaskier and the lady flee the ball, Geralt pulls out his flask of White Gull and pours its contents into his empty tankard.

So, a potion…

*

“There is no such thing as an immortality potion, Geralt,” Yennefer shakes her head.

“How can you be so sure?” Geralt asks. “Maybe this mage really did find a way to at least make the human life longer!”

“And why would he do that?” Yennefer scoffs. She has been doing that a lot since she finally ended their relationship for good about twenty years ago. (He later found out that she had left him for none other than Triss Merigold, but Yennefer still doesn’t know that he knows, and he’s having way too much fun with it to break the fact to her. So right now, he is pretending he doesn’t notice that Triss is eavesdropping on their conversation behind the door leading to Yennefer’s bedroom, and that he absolutely believed Yen when she claimed that the loud thud a few minutes ago was caused by a cat.) “We are immortal, Geralt, unless killed. There is no reason for any of us to make a potion that would make a human live forever.”

“Well, perhaps this mage fell in love with a human and wanted them to stay with him!”

Yennefer pauses, inspecting Geralt from head to toe and back again, and then she sighs.

“Oh, Geralt. Really?”

“Really what?” Geralt blinks, genuinely confused.

“Oh,” Yennefer murmurs. “Oh, no. Really?”

“Really what, Yen?”

“You mean you don’t… Oh, dear gods. Really?”

“Yen, I swear that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Geralt grunts, frowning.

Yennefer rolls her eyes and tries counting to ten to calm herself down. She doesn’t even get to three before Geralt’s eyes go wide.

“Oh,” he whispers. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed, Geralt,” she nods solemnly. “Fuck, indeed.”

*

“I found a djinn, he granted me a wish,” Jaskier says when Geralt asks him, about five minutes after his meeting with Yennefer. (He agreed to use a portal to get to the bard as soon as possible. A fucking portal!) The bard is sitting in a tavern and eating his dinner, utterly undisturbed by the sudden appearance of an angrier-than-usual Witcher.

“You never mentioned a djinn,” Geralt growls. “And after your last encounter with one, I sincerely doubt you’d engage with another.”

“You clearly don’t know me at all–”

“Besides, Valdo Marx, as far as I know, had an apoplexy while fucking a young student on his desk, and I don’t think you’d ever let him die like that if you had a choice.”

“You see, that was kind of a my mistake, since I didn’t specify the time and the circumstances of his apoplexy in my wish, so…”

“What was your third wish?”

“Pardon me?”

“Your immortality, Valdo Marx dropping dead, that’s two. What was the third one? And don’t even try to mention the Countess de Stael, since you’d have to dig her up first.”

“That was disgusting, even for you, you know that, Geralt?”

“How are you immortal, Jaskier?!”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Jaskier puts a piece of bread in his mouth and grins.

“Maybe some other time, Witcher.”

*

“I am a fae,” Jaskier replies a day later.

“You’re not a fucking fae, bard.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you fucking lie, Jaskier. All the time.”

“Fuck. Didn’t think of that.”

*

“You see, there was this artifact–”

Geralt closes his eyes, turning Roach around.

“Let’s consult Yennefer about this.”

“Oh, mother of…” Jaskier whines. “All right, no artifact, there was no artifact! Geralt, I’m telling you, there was no…”

*

“You’re not a succubus.”

“But it would be a perfect explanation, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not succubus, because if you were, you’d know that a male one is called an incubus.”

“Oh, you and your stupid Witcher terms again.”

“You’re not an incubus, Jaskier, because if you were, I could never let you near Eskel.”

“All right… Explain, please?”

Geralt grunts.

“I’d really rather not.”

*

“A dragon,” Jaskier grins victoriously.

“No,” Geralt says, shaking his head.

“No,” Jaskier agrees with a sigh.

“You know you could just tell me the truth and be done with it, right?”

“Hm… No.”

*

“All right, enough is enough,” Jaskier growls that night in their rented room, tossing his doublet aside. “You’ve asked me three times today, Geralt. Why the sudden interest in my immortality?”

“As you said, enough is enough. You’ve been traveling with me for what, a hundred years?”

“A hundred and four.”

“Yes, and you still look the same as the day I met you in Posada!” Geralt growls. “And it drives me mad!”

“It wasn’t driving you insane for at least fifty years, so why the sudden change of heart?”

“Fuck off, bard. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t care.”

“But you do, Geralt,” Jaskier says, taking a step towards the Witcher. “Why?”

He’s standing in Geralt’s personal space, his chemise half undone, and he’s watching Geralt with those sincere blue eyes, and Geralt can’t fucking think…

“Because I love you, you idiot!” he snaps. “Because I fucking love you and I need to know if I can love you, or you’re gonna just drop dead one day without a warning!”

“Oh,” Jaskier whispers, his lips forming into a huge, happy smile. “Oh, fucking finally.”

“Fucking… what?” Geralt blinks, his arms suddenly full of an enthusiastic bard.

“I love you too, you silly Witcher,” Jaskier laughs. “I’ve loved you for a hundred years! Well, a hundred and four, but who’s counting?”

“You…” Geralt mutters.

“Silly, silly Witcher,” Jaskier repeats, pressing his lips against Geralt’s in a kiss that could be described as chaste, or at least the chastest Jaskier has ever been capable of. “We’re going to Lettenhove in the morning.”

“We are?”

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier whispers. “See, I’ve told you the truth about the source of my immortality once. But I think you need to see it to believe me.”

“Wait, you have? When?” Geralt asks. “Was it the artifact? Just tell me, I promise I won’t make you consult it with–”

“Shut up now,” Jaskier says, kissing Geralt again with way less chastity than before. “And in the meantime, believe me this – you can keep loving me, and I’m not planning on dropping dead anytime soon. Also, I’ve spent the last hundred years imagining fucking you senseless, so if you’re not opposed to the idea, perhaps we could, well…”

The kiss that this idea gets him is as far from chaste as one could possibly get.

And Jaskier definitely isn’t about to complain.

*

“You sure this is a good idea?” Geralt asks as they march towards the Lettenhove castle’s gates. He tugs at his doublet’s collar, way too tight for his liking. He’d much rather walk in there wearing his usual attire, but Jaskier insisted that Geralt must look presentable if he wants to meet his family.

It turns out that it only takes a single I love you to turn the bard into a manipulative bastard. Who would have guessed?

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jaskier replies, grinning cheerfully. “And stop frowning, you’re gonna scare the servants, love.”

“How long it’s been since your last visit here, Jaskier?” Geralt says, his frown deepening. “Who rules Lettenhove now, hm? Aren’t you only going to be a distant relative, a great-great-uncle risen from the grave?”

“I sure hope not,” Jaskier chuckles, stopping in front of the guards by the gate. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Viscount Julian, here to see the Viscountess Madeleine.”

“How can you still be a viscount?” Geralt blinks when one of the guards promptly disappears inside.

“We kind of decided to, you know, share the title,” Jaskier shrugs. “Seemed fair. Besides, father, well, the former viscount, insisted that I inherit the title, but he never mentioned anything about Mads not inheriting it, so…”

“How could your father have known who the viscount is going to be in almost a hundred years?”

“He really didn’t,” Jaskier chuckles. “See, it will all start to make sense once you meet her.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for.”

*

The guard returns a few minutes later, telling them that the Viscountess will meet them in the garden.

Geralt, knowing a thing or two about nobility, think it’s a little weird, but isn’t about to protest. He only thinks he could have left the fancy clothes at the tavern.

“Oh, shut up, you,” Jaskier chuckles when Geralt voices this thought. “You look gorgeous.”

“I know. You’ve mentioned it a few times. But I didn’t have to look like that, because we’re going to meet the ruler of this land in a fucking garden, and–”

“Julian!”

A woman in a long white dress throws herself at Jaskier, who happily catches her. Geralt’s first instinct is to reach for his sword, only to realize that he (luckily) left it in the tavern – because Jaskier insisted, of course.

“Madeleine,” Jaskier chuckles. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“Oh, yes. Shocking, isn’t it?” she laughs, pulling away from him, and for the first time, Geralt truly looks at her.

The woman is shorter than Jaskier, slim, and her dress is much, much simpler than Geralt would have expected considering the fact that is supposed to be a viscountess. She has dark, long hair and her face is so beautiful that it almost – but only almost – takes the focus off her pointed ears.

“Lady Madeleine,” Jaskier grins, “may I introduce Geralt of Rivia, my Witcher. Geralt, this is Lady Madeleine, the current ruler of Lettenhove and my younger sister.”

“You’re…” Geralt blinks.

“A half-elf, yes,” she nods. “Julian! You haven’t told him?”

“Hardly my fault. I really tried,” Jaskier shrugs. “But he just wouldn’t believe me.”

“So you brought him here to prove it to him, rather than to visit your beloved sister? You are a horrible, horrible sibling, Julian!”

“Your… sister,” Geralt mutters, all his thoughts speeding through his head, colliding and falling down, one over another.

“Yes, we definitely share a mother,” Jaskier confirms. “Most likely a father, too, and trust me, it wasn’t the old viscount. Madeleine got the elvish looks, I only got the non-aging bit. Well, apparently.”

“But…” Geralt blinks. “Your father. The title.”

“Yen was right, dear heart, you really don’t know shit about nobility,” Jaskier snorts. “But I admit that even though our dear departed noble father knew that Mads wasn’t his daughter, obviously, it never occurred to him that I might not be his true son.”

“But you don’t age!”

“In his defense, that only became clear after his unfortunate passing.”

“And you aren’t going to start to age anytime soon,” Geralt mutters. “You really aren’t.”

“Told you so, didn’t I?” Jaskier winks, letting go of his sister and wrapping his arms around his lover instead.

“I… I…” Geralt stammers. “Fuck.”

“Maybe later, love,” Jaskier smiles. “Madeleine, my dear, wouldn’t you say that my return calls for a feast?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I have started the preparations the second my spies informed me that you have crossed the border.”

“Oh, so we have spies now?”

“It’s really only a net of nosy old ladies, but it works wonders,” Madeleine laughs. “I must admit, though, that I was only planning a feast to celebrate you coming home, but now I see we have a much better reason to party. Tell me, brother, did you finally get your stupid Witcher?”

Jaskier smiles brightly, turning his head to Geralt.

“Yes. I finally got my stupid Witcher.”

“Party,” the Witcher in question growls. “Is that why you made me dress like a pompous prick?”

“No, that was because while I find your usual self extremely attractive, you still look much better when your hair is properly combed and you’re not covered in monster blood.”

“Hm,” Geralt hums, but wraps his arm around the bard to hold him close.

“Oh, yes, about monsters,” Madeleine says with the most innocent expression Geralt has seen since Ciri broke Vesemir’s favorite vase at Kaer Morhen. “You see, we have a tiny problem with a cockatrice…”

“Right,” Geralt nods. “I’ll go grab my armor from the tavern.”

“That won’t be necessary. I have already arranged for your things to be brought to the castle. And your horse,” she adds before Geralt can even open his mouth. “You can leave for your quest as soon as the servants get here.”

“So much for you not being covered in monster blood,” Jaskier sighs.

“Hm,” Geralt grins. “Lady Madeleine, I suppose you happen to have a bathtub somewhere in the castle?”

“Of course. In fact, there is a private bathroom right next to Julian’s bedroom.”

“Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier purrs. “You know me so well.”

“Yes, and I expect to get to know you even better. In another hundred years or so.”

Jaskier laughs, pulls Geralt closer to him and kisses him.

“Another thousand years, I’d say.”

*

“What… the… fuck?!” Geralt croaks, staring at the smouldering remains of the cockatrice that would have surely killed him if Jaskier… If Jaskier…

The bard looks at his hands, then at the cockatrice, and then back at his hands again.

“Geralt? I have a feeling that I’m not really… A half-elf.”

“No shit.”

“I think I might be… Uhm…”

“Oh, shit,” Geralt whispers.

“I suppose, uhm, you know…” Jaskier stammers, wiping his palms on his trousers like he could wipe away the feeling of literal flames shooting out of them mere moments ago.

“Yeah. We’re gonna have to consult this with Yen.”

“Splendid,” Jaskier sighs. “Can it at least wait after the feast?”

“After more than a hundred years of you not even knowing, I think one feast will be fine.”

“Thank the gods. Madeleine would kill me if I tried to leave now,” Jaskier chuckles. “Let’s go, then. We need to get the fried monster remains out of your hair.”

“You’re… I was fucking right! You’re not a half-elf!”

“Yeah, you’re a great Witcher,” Jaskier nods, grabbing Geralt’s arm and dragging him away from the monster. “Didn’t notice I was secretly a fucking mage, but otherwise a great Witcher.”

“Explains a lot, though.”

“Does it now?”

“Yeah. I always had a thing for mages, you know.”

“Oh, Geralt. You’re such a fucking idiot,” Jaskier chuckles.

“Made you laugh,” Geralt shrugs, smiling.

Jaskier shakes his head.

“I’m so, so gonna drown you in that bathtub.”

“My love,” Geralt grins, “you’re more than welcome to try.”

***

Tagging @lottelorelei - I’m sorry I always forget to reply to your lovely comments, but believe me, they always put a big smile on my face! :)

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

How about a request for batsis getting hurt during a mission and batboys exaggerate 😈 thank u!

I DO LOVE MY BATSIS AND BATFAM FICS LETS GOOOOOO

Also I’m assuming you want a reaction! If you want otherwise do let me know! So let’s get started!

Batsis!Reader Gets Injured in a Mission and the Batboys are the Only Ones Home

No Specified AU

TW: Language

Genre: Fluff, Light Comedy

[DC Masterlist]

Word Count: 1.3K

You skid to a stop on your motorcycle, leaving tire tracks behind you in the batcave. You could clean that later when you weren’t bleeding out. You stumbled off of the vehicle, your hand still clutching on to the bloodied towel that kept your uniform from getting dirty and took your helmet off. You had a rather dirty run in with a few lowtime criminals who some how got their hands on alien tech, how that happened you’d have to ask Star Labs later, but either way despite your many encounters with villains who were much worse, the sudden blast from a laser shocked you just enough for them to get at least a cut in. Regardless you took care of them quickly and took the weapons back, which were now pathetically hanging off the side of your motorcycle.

You rolled your shoulders back and began you ascent up the stairs to get back into the manor, it would be best if you cleaned this up as soon as you could because god were you tired. You opened the door quietly.

“Please may no one be home,” you said to yourself repeatedly. Your brothers had a knack for getting rather loud when you came back with cuts and bruises, but you couldn’t blame them with all of their unresolved trauma and the fact that you, miraculously, happen to be the one Bat that hasn’t either died and came back or gotten beaten nearly to death, which you constantly held over them because damn in this business that’s more than just an achievement.

You successfully made it to the bathroom and pulled out the small medical kit and started working on the shallow wound, and right as you finished the shower curtain pulled back.

“Ahh!” You jumped back.

“Ahh!” Tim got into a defensive stance.

“What the hell are you doing in the shower?!"

"What the hell are you doing without a shirt?"

"I asked first!"

"You don't just sit in the shower to think?" You do, but you lock the door when you decide to do that. "Oh my god, did you get injured?!"

"No," you grabbed your shirt and hid the bandages that wrapped around your torso. You both stared at each other for a moment before Tim darted out of the bathroom. "Don't you fucking dare tell anyone, Drake!" You followed him out and ran into the worst possible person.

"Whoa, careful there, (Y/N), when did you get home?" Dick asks. Then he notices your bandages. "What happened? Who did you fight? Why didn't you call for backup? Where were you?"

"Oh my god, I'm fine, Dick," you walked past him and he caught up with you.

"Fine? Fine? You didn't even wrap that right, (Y/N)," Dick begins his lecture and you begin to tune him out right as you walked into your room and shut the door. Dick, knowing his boundaries, stood outside still lecturing you, and you walked out with a new shirt on and continued to ignore him while he shot you rapid fire questions. "At least answer my first questions, (Y/N)." You sighed, and without turning to him, said,

"Got grazed with a knife. Ran into some burglars that for some reason had alien tech. Didn't need it. Downtown," you answered his questions in succession while entering the kitchen, waving to Jason, who was getting a snack, and Tim, who was probably telling Jason about your predicament.

"Alien tech? And they didn't use it?" Tim asks.

"Exactly, they probably didn't know how to. But it doesn't matter, because I am very clearly fine," you reached past Jason into the refrigerator and pulled out a fruit cup.

"You're bleeding through your shirt," Jason points out. You look down and he was right. You let out another loud sigh and tear off a few paper towels from the sink and placed them under your shirt. "At least dress it right or you'll die from bleeding out rather than actually getting stabbed."

"Well, to be fair, if Tim didn't spontaneously pop out of the shower maybe I would have," you complained.

"You didn't lock the door?" Jason turns to him.

"There are ten bathrooms in this mansion, I didn't think anyone would go in!" Tim defends. "But that's besides the point! (Y/N), I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. If they had alien tech then that knife could have been laced with something."

"Are you implying that I could have alien eggs in me?"

"Why's everyone screaming?" The youngest Wayne entered the kitchen. "I can hear you all from my room."

"Tim thinks (Y/N) got eggs implanted in her," Dick says quickly.

"No, no I don't. Besides, that's not how alien fertilization works."

"You know how alien fertilization works?" You couldn't help the contorted face you made at the thought of how he knew.

"You always do this when we call you out, (Y/N), the point is you could very likely have some kind of alien virus or bacteria inside of you that could quite possibly kill you!"

"Tim, I'm pretty sure it was a normal knife," you walked over to the pantry and took out a bag of potato chips.

"But, if what Grayson just told me was right," Damien cuts in. "How stupid could you be? Letting something as simple as a knife get to you?" He mocks.

"If you weren't a kid I would've punted you by now," you pointed at him with a potato chip and ate it. "Do I have to remind you about last week?"

"No," he scoffs. "But that's not the point. You're trained well enough to avoid bullets and you let a knife get close to you? How out of it were you?"

"I will admit that the alien guns that also shot Bruce did distract me a little."

"And you let them go free?!" Jason finally grasped the gravity of the situation. "What if they come back to find you because they're pissed?"

"Relax, I have them in the batcave," you waved him off.

"You could've been killed," Jason argues.

"Oh stop being so dramatic, Todd, I'm obviously standing here right now, aren't I?"

"One shot from any of those and you could've either been disintegrated or catapulted into another dimension," Tim adds.

"Or worse, completely debilitated and decommissioned," Dick continues.

"You could be dying right now and you wouldn't know it because of how dense you are, (L/N)," Damien was next. You continued eating your chips while they started to talk over each other, then you finally spoke up.

"Okay, I get it, I'll be more careful from now on," you spoke in a steady voice. "Now, I'm gonna go clean this up because I was so rudely interrupted by someone, and when I come back, this discussion will be over," you held your hand up to silence Jason, who was about to retaliate. Then you walked over to the kitchen door and pulled it off of its hinges.

You stood there for a good few seconds, staring at the door in your hands, and the ruined door frame. Then you looked back at the other boys, who essentially all had their jaws on the ground.

"Could she do that before?" Jason asked Dick.

"No..." the other shook his head.

"Alfred's going to kill me..." you laid the door against the wall. You reached for the water bottle on the side of the table and opened it, intending to chug the whole thing down to calm your nerves, but none of the water came out, instead the whole thing was iced over. "Uh..."

The kitchen was silent. You ran back to the bathroom and took your shirt off then the bandages, seeing that the wound had turned blue and had completely frosted over. The other boys followed you, their heads sticking through the door.

"I was right?!" Tim's voice echoed throughout the manor and you slammed your head on the wall behind you.

[princesimp]

Yan!Helen Otis/Bloody Painter x Reader

I used a prompt by @bowtied-pasta for this one! It's my first writing piece in YEARS so I'm a little rusty, but I hope you guys enjoy! Any constructive criticism or comments are welcome!

Light yandere obsessive type, I wanted to give my boy Helen a little attention cause I think he's underrated and pretty swag so here ya go, if anyone wants this one to continue I might make a pt 2 ☺️

Prompt; You didn’t think leaving your window open would be a bad idea last night. The air was cool and the sounds of your neighborhood were familiar to you, so you knew you would be able to fall asleep. You didn’t think anyone would be in your room when you woke up, but the figure in the corner proved otherwise.

You stayed silent for a while. You knew you’d had a… ‘secret admirer’, let's say, for the past few months. They left a few notes, a gift or two, ordered you a damn doordash meal one time with a note saying to “look after your delicate health”, but for some reason you hadn’t expected them to be in your fucking room. You couldn’t make out their form; they had thick layers of clothing on, and the shadows warped around them to hide most of their face. Could that be a mask? Fuck if you were gonna keep looking to find out, you had a will to live. How could they even stand wearing so much anyways? It was cool at night, sure, but it was still summer, and a heat wave was still going through. You were surprised they weren’t passed on your floor.

You went over the options you had in your head. You didn’t know what the person in your room wanted; if they were angry and out for blood, if they were just a little too infatuated with you and just wanted to see you, if they just wanted a quick fuck, you knew nothing. You didn’t know how much stronger than you they were either, though you could take an educated guess as to how they’d square up against you based on the fact they were ballsy enough to be in your house.. You really didn’t wanna piss them off, they were obviously dangerous, or at least unhinged, but they were In. Your. God. Damn. Bedroom.

Rage was slowly bleeding into terror, now. There was a pocket knife on your dresser. You thought about grabbing it. That’d be a shitty fucking decision though, you had it for opening shit and to intimidate anyone from bothering you, that didn’t mean you knew how to wield a knife in a fight. Maybe you could pretend to fall back asleep and see if they left in the morning? You were shaking like a fucking leaf, they’d call your bluff. On the verge of tears, trembling like a leaf under the covers. They definitely knew you were up, and they knew you were scared, oh god what if that's what they wanted? That’s why they’re here, to scare you, so you wouldn't find help, and they were going to kill you, weren’t they, and, and-

Stop. Now isn’t the time to panic. You did your best to slow your breathing. To not whimper. Not sniffle. To not make a single noise. You heard shifting, and a light thump against your doorframe. A light huff followed soon after, but it didn't sound annoyed; Amused, maybe? No, that wasn't right either- you didn't dwell on it for too long. Their eyes pierced into your soul, you didn’t need to dwell on that to feel it clearly. This went on for a while; you almost work yourself into a panic, manage to calm yourself, they give a (maybe it’s relieved? No, that's not right either, it sounded too relaxed, too content-) huff, rinse repeat. You slowly felt your courage come back to you when you saw it was almost dawn. Your neighbor worked early, you could scream for help if something went wrong. Why haven’t they said anything? It felt like it'd been at least an hour now. You’d think an intruder that knew you were awake would say something, anything.

“Are you the one that’s been leaving me notes..?” you asked, barely above a whisper, bracing yourself and tensing up to prepare for a violent response that never came.

“I am.”

Their voice was a bit deep, a little raspy, and you almost didn’t know what you should’ve expected. They were quite straightforward. You turned your head to face them, waiting to see if they continued.

“And the gifts?”

“The small stuffed bear and the cloud necklace, yes.”

“And that doordash order?”

“You were so stressed that week. I felt you needed a little something nicer to eat.”

You sniffled a bit. They turned their face to you. You were able to get a good look at them now. They did, in fact, have a mask on, white with black eyes and a red smile painted on. They looked... Sophisticated. Terrifying, still, they were so calm and collected, like they'd done this hundreds of times before. Like this was routine.

He tilted his head. You were terrified. He wouldn’t fool himself into thinking he didn’t know why, but he could still hope to calm you down. “My name is Helen.”

It was a nice name. A name put you at ease. Someone planning something more dangerous wouldn’t give their name out like that, would they? “Please don't hurt me, Helen.”

“I won’t, If I’m given no reason to.” Reasonable. In your head, you correctly translated that to “Do as I ask and don't scream”. That will to live firmly intact, you slowly nodded and sat up, pulling the blankets up with you both for some sense of security and because you felt like you were freezing because of the anxiety and adrenaline running through you. “What do you want?”

He dropped a bag that was on his back that you hadn’t noticed in your panic before, before he started walking towards you. He was slow, like he was approaching a hurt animal, like he didn't want to scare you, like you were a delicate prize. You scooted all the way back, your back squishing your pillows against the headboard as you flattened yourself against it. He paused, until your expression softened a little, from exhaustion or from you calming down he wasn't sure, before he approached again, sitting on the edge of the bed near you.

“You’re so delicate. Beautiful. A lovely muse. I’d just like to observe you. Create beautiful art pieces in your image, maybe show you a few works I’ve completed. Make you the perfect subject, the perfect muse.” He reached out to run his fingers through your hair, not hesitating even as you flinched.

You were confused. That didn’t sound right, there had to be a sinister meaning behind those words, and yet he said them so innocently, so politely, sugar lacing his words, like all he truly wanted was an art subject. “Is.. is that all you want?”

“For now.” He huffed again (Admiration? Is that it?) before pulling his hand away, trailing his fingertips, gloved in black leather, across your jawline, gently tipping your head up. “I can be gentle, kind, even, with you. If you do not force my hand.” You couldn’t even attempt to force yourself to pull away from him. His presence and actions had become alluring; Terrifying still, yes, but you felt yourself entranced by his calmness and by how politely he spoke to you.

He suddenly stood, retrieving his bag and starting to leave quickly through the still open window. He paused for a moment, looking back at you.

“I truly don’t wish to hurt you, Y/N. Try your best to calm yourself.”

He ducked out the window, and in the three seconds it took for you to gather your wits about you and dash to the window to see where he went, he was out of view. You closed your window and sat down right there on the floor, going over what in the everloving fuck had just gone down in your head. Jesus, that… that was a fucking rollercoaster. You brought your hand up to your jaw, tracing where he’d traced, and sighed out a shaky breath. You got up and got back into your bed, attempting to sleep to try and collect yourself.

Fuck it. You’d call out of work for the day later and say you were sick or something.

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

This story takes place during the summer of 1987. It’s the time of the Cold War, and heavy metal, and Just Say No.

Ten chapters, each with a specific song as its soundtrack.

I’m so excited to finally share it with you.

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Also posted at AO3

—-

Chapter 3: Dancing On Glass

I've been through hell // And I'm never goin' back // To dancing on glass // Going way too fast...

Need one more rush // Then I know, I know I'll stop // One extra push // Last trip to the top...

Soundtrack: “Dancing On Glass,” Mötley Crüe, 1987 [click here to listen]

Three P.M.

Group.

Claire’s hands wrapped around the hard sides of the plastic chair, holding herself upright, watching about two dozen fellow patients? inmates? addicts? shuffle into the room.

Two people stood at the door – greeting others as they entered, handing out small packets of tissues and bottles of Coke.

Today’s facilitator – a middle-aged, bearded man – stood to one side, chatting with a few people.

“Hey!”

Claire startled – and turned to her right to see Jamie slide into the chair beside her.

“How’s it going today? Day two, right?”

She nodded. “Met with my therapist this morning.”

“That’s great! Who’ve you got?”

“Gillian.”

Jamie cracked open a bottle. “Oh, she’s great. Been here a long time. She’s married to the director – did you know that?”

Claire’s eyebrows raised. “No, but that’s really interesting.”

Jamie gulped about half the bottle in one shot. “Yeah. We owe everything to them.”

“Yeah, well. I got assigned to dinner set-up duty.”

He beamed. “Great! I’ve been on that rotation for the last few weeks. I’ll show you all the ropes.”

“Few weeks? How long have you been here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He set down his Coke. “I don’t. And I’ve been here eight weeks. The best eight weeks of my fucked-up life.”

“Don’t say that,” she chided. “Surely everything can’t be so terrible.”

He stared at her for a long moment.

“It can be, if you were the reason why a sold-out European tour couldn’t happen, and it cost your backers and buddies tens of millions of dollars, and it pissed off countless thousands of fans.”

Now the greeters took their seats within the circle.

“Couldn’t, or didn’t?” Claire hoped her words were gentle, but when her head split with pain like this she could never tell. “And what do you mean by ‘tour’?”

His eyes narrowed. “Couldn’t. My manager said I’d come back from Europe in a body bag. He’s a bloodsucker but he had enough sense to not kill the golden goose.” He finished his Coke in one long gulp – flexing the tattoos swirling on his forearm and elbow. “And I’m a professional musician – in case you couldn’t guess from the way I look.”

“I see.”

He grinned. “How about that – someone who doesn’t recognize me.”

She folded her hands in her lap, closing her eyes against the pain, so desperately wanting to disappear. “I guess between medical school, and being a surgeon, and my ex-husband…and the pills…there are a lot of things I haven’t paid attention to.”

“Hey.” Softly he reached out to touch her knee – and she looked up at him.

“I’m not making fun of you, Claire. It’s just…I don’t know. Refreshing.”

She smiled tightly.

The facilitator clapped his hands. “Everyone – are we ready?”

People around the circle nodded, and the man sat down in the last empty chair.

“Great. Well, hi everyone. For those of you who don’t know me – I’m Murtagh. Been clean for just about eleven years now. Before that I spent a small fortune that I didn’t have – ”

“ – on enough blow to kill an elephant,” Jamie and several others chorused.

Murtagh smiled. “Wiseasses. Now – today’s topic is: clarity.”

“Can you be more specific?” A heavyset, bearded man across the circle piped up.

“You mean – provide more clarity?” Geneva snickered from somewhere near Jamie.

“Easy,” Murtagh interjected. “And yes, Rupert, of course. What I mean is: something I hear a lot from people here is that being away from substances gives them clarity for the first time in years. Clarity of thoughts – meaning, you’re logical and rational. Clarity of judgment – meaning, you feel like you are empowered to make good decisions. And overall, clarity to step away from all the bullshit that the substances made you do, or made it easier for you to do, and say – damn, what the hell was I doing?”

Across the circle, Rupert nodded. “OK. Oh – hi everyone, I’m Rupert, and I’m an alcoholic. Yeah – I can definitely relate. I wanted to not have clarity, so that I didn’t have to think about how much I was screwing up my job, and my marriage.”

“Good,” Murtagh praised. “And now that you can’t avoid it – how do you feel?”

Rupert stroked his thick beard. “Like shit. I love Scarlet so much, and I fucked it all up. I understand that now.”

“I feel the same way,” Jamie added. “Hi, I'm Jamie, and I'm an alcoholic, too. I drank because I’ve always felt so responsible for everything going on in my band – because I’m the guy that brought us together, and I’m the guy who writes the songs, and I’m the guy who’s across the table from the record company executives, advocating on our behalf.” He bounced a long, thin, jean-clad leg rapidly up and down. “I felt like I was being used, and that I was the only one who cared. I felt that really clearly. So I drank to…to avoid that clarity.”

Claire carefully watched the others around the circle. What Jamie was sharing could make any one of them a quick buck – all it would take was one phone call to a tabloid. But everyone was listening raptly – clearly thinking about parallels in their own lives – and it began to dawn on her that Jamie had one thing she didn’t have much of for herself: respect.

“And then when I drank, I’d just get really mean,” he continued. “I’d say things to rile up my drummer. I had a fling with my manager’s girlfriend, just to fuck with him. And yeah, I’d destroy hotel rooms.”

“Your reaction was to want to hurt people,” Murtagh said gently. “You had had clarity – clarity that you were shouldering too much, for too many people – and you reacted by wanting to push them away.”

“Yeah.” Claire spoke without thinking. “Um – hi everyone, I’m Claire, and I’m addicted to pills. Halcions, mostly.”

“Oh, those are the best,” a woman to Claire’s left remarked.

“Hey – no positive talk,” Murtagh interjected. “You know better than that, Letitia.”

Letitia huffed.

Murtagh turned back to face Claire. “Tell us more, Claire, if you’re comfortable?”

Now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop. “I was – am – a trauma surgeon for an emergency room. I love it – I love the adrenaline of it, and of course being able to help people on the worst day of their lives. I love being able to heal people. But…but it’s pretty heavy stuff. People die, no matter how hard you try to save them. People wake up and they’re not happy that they don’t have a leg anymore – and I say, would you rather be dead?”

“And you wanted to get away from that?” Jamie asked gently.

She closed her eyes. “I had to have clarity to do my job properly – it’s hard to describe, but it’s like having a laser focus on what’s in front of you. Getting in the zone. Shutting out everything else. And then when it’s all done – I would crash. The whole world would come rushing back, and I’d be covered in someone else’s blood and barely able to sit down before I had to work on the next person. That was so, so hard to deal with.”

“I understand.” Claire opened her eyes – it was an older man speaking right next to Jamie. “Hi everyone – I’m Ned, I’m a lawyer and crack addict, and there are a lot of jokes I’m sure you could make based on that.”

Claire managed a small smile.

“I’m a defense attorney – I’m that guy you see on TV arguing in a courtroom and presenting to a jury. I totally get what Claire said, because I needed to have that kind of really focused clarity, too. It was kind of like acting – I had to remember my argument, and I had to present it to the jury, and I had to pick up on cues from them to see how well I was doing. And then afterward I’d just crash. But I still had to have energy to prep for the next day, and that’s where Miss Crack came in.”

“So what I’m hearing is that clarity is something you already had – and then you turn to substances to get away from it.” Murtagh folded his arms. “Because it’s hard to flip that ‘off’ switch. And then eventually, the substances change from being something to take a vacation from that clarity, to completely blocking out that clarity altogether.”

“Exactly.” It was easier for Claire to focus on Murtagh than the sea of faces surrounding her. “And it’s a deliberate choice. I’m sure, Ned and Rupert and Jamie, that you deliberately sought out something to prevent that clarity. I know I did – I wrote the prescriptions for the pills that I consumed.”

Rupert nodded. “The bottle didn’t pick itself up and pour the liquor down my throat. And you’re right, Claire – at first, at least, it was a conscious decision. Until it became something I had to depend on.”

“I think that there are ways for this to happen more positively.” A woman seated beside Rupert quietly spoke. “Oh – hi, everyone, I’m Marsali, and I’m an alcoholic. What I mean is, there are ways to flip that ‘off’ switch that aren’t so…destructive. You can go for a run. Listen to music. Cook a meal. Watch a movie. Make love to your significant other.”

Murtagh nodded. “Marsali brings up a good point here. I’ll repeat something that I’ve already told many of you before, because it bears repeating. Substance addiction is addiction, first and foremost. All of us are here because our brains are hard-wired for addiction. We can’t change that. But we can change what it is that we’re addicted to.”

“Like what?” Letitia had calmed down a bit, but clearly she was skeptical.

“Whatever works for you,” Murtagh shrugged. “Jiu Jitsu. Flower Arranging. Reading. Playing the drums. Writing. Riding motorcycles. Not all addictions are bad – we just need to find the addictions that help us, and don’t hurt us or the people around us.”

Everyone’s heads nodded in agreement, quietly reflecting.

“So – that’s my homework assignment for all of you.” Murtagh pulled a small spiral notebook from his pocket, flipped to a fresh page, and began scribbling in it. “To think about the thing that you can become positively addicted to. Something you already enjoy, or something you’ve never done before. But I hope that even just thinking about it will give you focus. Improve your clarity.”

“Got it,” Ned said quietly.

Murtagh flipped back to an earlier page in his notebook. “Now – I have here my notes from the last time I facilitated Group. OK if I start going around and asking people for follow-up thoughts to those? Rupert?”

Rupert nodded, and began to speak.

“Facilitators take turns hosting Group every fourth day.” Claire started a bit, but held steady as Jamie leaned in close, spoke quietly into her ear. “We talk about things, and we’re assigned homework, and then the next time the facilitator is back we talk about it.”

“Thanks,” Claire murmured.

Jamie didn’t pull away. “If you ever just want to talk…”

She swallowed. “Thanks. I do. I just – it’s a lot to process.”

“It is. But you’ll get there. Talk more at our dinner prep.”

With that he pulled back, and a low buzz settled somewhere between Claire’s ears as the people around her chimed in to the conversation.

[morganaspendragonss]

hiya. could you write a fic where tk has a panic attack from carlos’s pov? 😘🧡

i can indeed! this is combined with an idea jamie ( @silvarafael ) had and very kindly allowed me to write - i hope you both enjoy! the first section is also based on a vague idea i had after watching the ep.

ao3 | 1.9k | 2.10 spoilers

TK is silent the entire drive home, choosing instead to stare out the window with his jaw firmly clenched, his hands making fists in his lap. The silence extends all the way into the house, right up until the point when he flops down on the couch with a loud, frustrated sigh, burying his head in his hands. 

At this point, Carlos knows not to push when TK is like this; he’ll talk when he wants to, and not a moment before. So he simply walks over, sitting next to him and placing a hand on TK’s back, rubbing gentle circles. TK slowly relaxes under his touch, unfurling his body, and Carlos is all too happy to let him shift into his arms, holding on and pressing kisses on the top of his head.

I’m here, he’s saying - not with words, but he knows the message gets across regardless. It may have only been less than a year since they started dating, but already they don’t always need words to communicate.

“I’m sorry if you were uncomfortable back there,” TK says suddenly. “I know my dad kind of dragged you into it all, and that must have been awkward for you.”

“It wasn’t my favourite interaction with your dad ever,” he admits.

TK snorts. “Understatement,” he mutters, and Carlos laughs, tilting his head in agreement. “I am sorry, though, really,” TK continues. “It was amazing of you to even be there; you didn’t have to be. I’m sure there are hundreds of places you’d rather be than an intervention session for my dad.”

“You mean supporting my boyfriend through something difficult and important?” Carlos corrects gently, shifting to catch TK’s eyes. “Because there’s nowhere I’d rather be than there.”

TK blinks at him, managing to hold his gaze for all of two seconds before he blushes and looks away. He takes Carlos’s hand, tapping restlessly on the back of it - a sure-fire sign he’s still worked up about something, so Carlos leaves him be, waiting for it to come out.

“Is it bad that I’m pissed at him?” TK’s voice is quiet, small, and it’s mirrored in his body language when he turns to Carlos, drawing his legs up and hunching his shoulders. “I’ve spent my entire life trying to connect with him, and it just feels like he’s constantly throwing it all right back in my face. And he’s… He’s such a fucking hypocrite. Ever since my first overdose, he’s been going on and on about how good it is to talk about my feelings and how I shouldn’t keep things bottled up, yet he insists on hiding this shit from me.”

TK laughs, short, sharp, bordering on hysterical. “He didn’t even tell me when he was fucking dying; I had to find that out by myself. And I’ve tried. I haven’t stopped trying.” He deflates, sinking back into Carlos with a defeated sigh. “But there’s only so much I can take, you know? I can’t… I can’t keep doing this, Carlos.”

Carlos’s heart breaks for his boyfriend. He wishes he could take the pain away; as it is, all he can do is hold him, and hope that he has enough words to at least dull the ache somewhat.

“It’s not bad to feel what you feel, TK.”

TK looks up at him, eyes wide. “You don’t think so?”

He shakes his head, kissing him again. “No. I think… I think your dad has treated you pretty unfairly, actually, and you’re well within your rights to be mad at him right now. But, I also think that you said it yourself; there’s only so much you can do. Before you can take care of your dad, you have to take care of yourself, and you can’t do that if you’re worrying over him.”

If TK’s eyes were any wider, it’d be comical. “But -”

“No buts.” Carlos smiles tightly, keeping his tone gentle. “TK, babe, you just led an intervention into your dad’s mental health, which I know was hard for you, yet you did it anyway because you love him. You tried, but if he doesn’t want to engage, then there’s nothing you can do.”

TK is silent for a long time, staring down at his lap. He’s still holding Carlos’s hand in one of his own, but his free hand is rubbing the material of Carlos’s shirt between his fingers; Carlos doubts he’s even fully aware he’s doing it.

“I know that,” he says eventually, voice little more than a whisper. “I do. I just wish he wasn’t so goddamn stubborn all the time.”

Carlos’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he speaks before he can stop himself. “Guess it runs in the family.”

TK stares at him, open-mouthed, and Carlos immediately regrets his words. He’s halfway through an apology when it’s like a dam breaks, and TK breaks out in giggles, his head thumping against Carlos’s chest.

“You’re lucky I love you, Reyes.”

Carlos grins and pulls TK as close to him as physically possible. “I really am.”

*

The call comes early the next morning, waking both of them up. TK grumbles as he smacks his hand against the nightstand in a blind search for his phone; the sight would be adorable if Carlos weren’t so tired himself. After the exhaustion of the past few days, he’d been desperately hoping to have a peaceful morning for once, maybe even - god forbid - to spend some quality time with his boyfriend without the threat of parents or work or sudden emergencies hanging over them. 

Clearly, though, it’s not to be, as TK suddenly sits bolt upright in bed, all traces of sleep gone.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” he promises to whoever’s on the other end, before lowering the phone and turning to stare at Carlos, terror obvious in his eyes. 

“TK?” Carlos asks when he doesn’t speak, sitting up and slowly reaching out for him. TK startles at the contact, but quickly leans into it, covering Carlos’s hand with his own.

He swallows once, twice. “Buttercup’s sick,” he whispers. “Dad had to rush him to the vet’s. Carlos, what if… What if…”

He trails off, shaking his head viciously, as though he can erase the thought from his mind. Carlos quickly moves to steady him, stroking his thumbs across his cheekbones to calm him down.

“Let’s get dressed, okay?” he says, knowing reassurances won’t mean a thing right now. “Then we’ll go, and we’ll know more.”

TK just nods, quiet as they go through the motions of getting ready. Carlos makes sure to press an apple into his hand before they head out; he knows it will likely go uneaten, but it’s the only choice he has, given he knows that TK will refuse to stop for breakfast without finding out about Buttercup first.

If the drive back from Owen’s yesterday was silent, today’s is far worse. TK’s hands are constantly moving in Carlos’s periphery, alternating between fiddling with his apple, tugging on his clothes and hair, and rubbing at his face. On the rare occasion he does try to stay still, his hands end up twitching in his lap, followed by a sudden burst of anxious movement before falling back into some semblance of a pattern.

Carlos presses his lips into a firm line, accelerating more than is technically legal; at any other time he’d make a joke about how TK’s turning him into a criminal.

They’re forced to stop at a traffic light, and Carlos curses under his breath, getting jittery himself as the drive extends. He turns to check on TK, then curses again at the sight of his boyfriend’s pale face, his wide eyes and trembling body. TK gasps, then again and again, a hand going to his chest, and Carlos knows what this is. 

A panic attack, but the second he reaches to help, the lights change and he’s forced to keep driving. He keeps one eye on TK the whole time, heart beating faster as he seems to get worse, and he’s thankful when he spots an opportunity to pull over, taking it immediately.

TK stares, shaking his head frantically and gesturing in a motion that Carlos takes to mean keep driving. His mouth opens and closes but he can’t form words, breaths coming short and fast. He folds in on himself when they stop, eyes closed and forehead almost touching his knees as his body heaves and shakes.

Carlos unbuckles himself and shifts as close as he can, placing one hand on TK’s back and taking his hand in the other, rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb. He’s had to do this a few times over the course of their relationship, shootings and kidnappings and disasters taking their toll on his boyfriend.

But that doesn’t make it any less difficult.

“You’re going to be okay,” Carlos says, pushing his own fears aside. “Just breathe slowly, in and out, that’s it; it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

He keeps it up, murmuring assurances he barely registers himself until the shaking lessens and TK’s breath slowly but surely begins to even out. He straightens in his seat, eyes still closed, and leans his head against the headrest. 

Carlos pulls back, giving him a moment before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

TK shakes his head, then immediately changes his mind and nods. Still, it takes him a few seconds to speak. “What if it’s the cancer, Carlos?” he asks, peeling his eyes open, despair written all over his features. “He could - He could die, he could be dying right this second, and I don’t know if I can handle that, not after everything else.”

“I know,” Carlos says. “You just have to remember that we don’t know anything yet, and you have to believe that Buttercup will be fine until we do know more. We’ll take it from there, and if it is the cancer - which, yes, it might be - then we’ll all be around to support each other. Buttercup’s strong, though, I’m sure he’ll fight whatever this is with everything he has. He’ll be fine.”

Carlos smiles, noticing how TK is pretty much hanging onto every word he says. He takes a deep breath, briefly looking away before continuing, “As will your dad.”

TK frowns. “Who said anything about my dad?”

“TK.”

He sighs, hanging his head. “You’re right,” he admits, “this is a little bit about my dad. The longer he puts off this surgery, the more scared I get that the cancer will come back and we won’t get as lucky this time. I know it’s stupid, and I know I should be focused on Buttercup right now, but…”

“But,” Carlos agrees, reaching out and squeezing TK’s hand. “It’s okay, and it’s not stupid at all, I promise you. Let’s just take this one thing at a time, okay? First, we’ll get to the vet’s and find out how Buttercup is, and then we’ll see about having another conversation with your dad - maybe telling him what you’ve told me?”

TK exhales shakily, then nods. “Okay. Okay.”

Carlos gives him a small smile, squeezing his hand once more before shifting back in his seat to keep driving. “I’ll be right by your side,” he can’t help but say. He’s sure TK already knows, but the reminder can’t hurt, especially after what just happened.

TK stays quiet, but Carlos doesn’t miss the mumbled, “I don’t deserve you,” from the passenger seat. 

“Wrong,” he replies, eyes on the road. “You deserve the world.”

And, in his periphery, TK smiles.

[ducky-moo]

It’s Nothing

A scream ripped through S.T.A.R Labs, sending everyone into a flurry. Weapon in hand and suit donned, Cisco and Barry rushed into the former's workshop, where the sound had come from, only to find you sitting bolt upright in a chair, alone, but panicked.

        "Are you okay? What happened? Did someone hurt you?" They asked a million questions, but you just shook your head. Confusion crossed Barry's face, while realization crossed Cisco's. "Nightmare?" He asked, tilting his head to the side to really look at you. You let out a weak laugh and nodded. You had been having increasingly worse nightmares recently, and it was near impossible to determine whether or not they were real. You had been having them ever since your last encounter with the Twisted Shifter, which was what Cisco had decided to call the shapeshifting meta-human that was after you. It had been a week and a half now, and even though you were finally almost fully recovered from your concussion, you had still been staying at Cisco's every night. The two of you weren't dating, but...no, yeah, you were basically dating. He had been taking such good care of you over your recovery, and he stayed up with you when the nightmares hit, and he was the best binge partner you'd ever had. The two of you had already watched all 8 of the Harry Potter movies at least 5 times.

        "Did you watch Chamber of Secrets without me again? You know what that does to you." Cisco chided as he lowered his weapon. This was the first time you had had a nightmare at work, and you hadn't really told anybody else about them yet. You only told Cisco about them because, well, he'd been sleeping right next to you when you had them. You made him promise not to tell anybody, and although he desperately wanted to help you solve them, he agreed. So he put up a flimsy excuse for the nightmare, and you went along with it. Barry seemed to buy it, as he laughed and shook his head at the two of you before leaving the room.

        As soon as he was out of earshot, Cisco closed the door and sat down in his chair and rolled over to you, taking your hands in his and resting them on your knees. "Are you okay? That one seemed pretty bad, Y/n." Concern was evident on his face as he leaned towards you, searching your eyes for some kind of hidden answer.

        "I'm fine, Cisco. Just another stupid nightmare," you mumbled as you turned your head to look away from him. You pulled your hands away from him as well, and he looked at you with even more concern. You tried to wheel away to go do something else, but he grabbed your chair firmly by the arms and held you there in front of them.

        "They're not stupid, and you're not fine, Y/n" he reached out and turned your face towards him with his thumb and forefinger, "I wish you would let me help you," he all but pleaded. You shoved his hand away and stood up.

        "You don't even know what they're about." You shot back, then turned to leave the room.

        "Because you won't tell me!" Cisco exclaimed in frustration as he rose from his chair. He stepped in front of you and placed his hands on your shoulders. You immediately shoved his hands away, afraid he would vibe you and find out what your dreams were really about. Hurt spread across his face as you took a step back from him. "Why won't you just let me help you?" His voice was strained, and you could tell he wanted to reach out for you again, but was trying to respect your space.

        "Its not something that can be helped Cisco. It's my grave and I'm going to lie in it. Alone." By this point you were near tears as your eyes darted about the man's face, trying desperately to make him understand. Your whole life you had had to fend and look out for yourself. It wasn't easy, but it was what you knew.

        "You can't handle this alone, Y/n. For Christ's sake, I've been sitting up with you half the night for the past week, watching Harry Potter on repeat because you're too scared to go to sleep. There's only so much Michael Gambon Dumbledore I can take."

        "You said you liked watching Harry Potter with me." You were trying to redirect the conversation, and you knew Cisco was easily distracted by movies.

        "I do. I do like watching Harry Potter with you. But the reason we've been watching them is keeping us up half the night, and frankly, I haven't felt like I've been getting any sleep because I'm up the other half of the night worrying about you!"

        "Please," you scoffed, "you snore like a freaking freight train as soon as you think I'm asleep." Cisco made a face that was a mix of surprise and offended.

        "Okay, one, hurtful, and two, maybe I have my own dreams! And in my dreams, I'm worrying about you!" He defended himself. You had to admit to yourself, that made your heart melt a little. 

        "Why do you worry about me so much, Cisco? Of all the things in all the worlds to care about, why me." Your voice broke as you sunk down into your chair, and you buried your head in your hands. You heard him inhale deeply, and he crouched down in front of you, taking your hands in his and looking into your eyes.

        "Because you're worth caring about, Y/n." His voice was quiet and soft, but there was such earnest in it that you couldn't help but burst into tears. "Baby, please," his voice cracked with emotion, "let me help you." He reached up and cupped your cheeks in his hands, holding your face so that you had no choice but to look at him. His thumbs brushed under your eyes as he wiped your tears away. You shook your head, watching his heart break as you denied him once again.

        "I can't." You whispered. He heaved a sigh and leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. You sat in silence for a moment before Caitlin's voice rang out from the cortex. 

        "Cisco!!! We need you!!" Cisco muttered profanities under his breath and shook his head.

        "You know where to find me." He sighed as he stood. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and jogged back out into the Cortex.

        Hours later, Cisco was sitting at his desk in the Cortex, going over data from all the previous fights with Twisted Shifter. "Caitlin, you said Y/n's vitals-" He was interrupted by a short, weak scream coming from his workshop. His head fell, and he sighed as everyone turned to look towards the sound.

        "Was that-"

        "Yep."

        "Are you going to-"

        "Yep." Cisco rose from his chair and made his way back to the workshop. At this point, Cisco was pissed at you for not letting anyone help. He was preparing his angry speech when a second scream rocked through the building, causing him to jump. "Jesus fuck," he muttered as he jogged the rest of the way to the workshop. "Y/n?" He looked around, confused and possibly slightly panicked as he couldn't find you immediately. Finally, his eyes landed on you, curled up in the back corner of the room. "Y/n? Hey, hey hey hey, you're okay." He rushed over and dropped to the ground next to you, pulling you into his arms. After a moment, he felt you struggling against his secure grip, and rather than fighting with you, he simply let you go.

                "I'm fine." You snapped, wrapping your arms around yourself as you turned away from Cisco. He let out a loud groan as he schlumped back against the wall.

        "Fine my ass, Y/n, I just found you curled up in a goddamn corner!" His voice rose in his frustration and he threw his hands in the air. 

        "I don't-"

        "This is the second time today you've had these nightmares. You're being totally stupid! You need help!" Cisco was all but yelling now as he stood up. You started to walk away, but he grabbed you by the shoulder. You tore yourself away and whirled around to face him.

        "Don't vibe me, Cisco!" You exploded at him, your voice growing louder as well.

        "I am not vi-"

        "Hey, woah woah woah, what's going on in here?" Joe asked as he walked in, followed closely by Barry and Iris. Cisco drew his mouth into a tight line and looked at you expectantly. He was gonna do what he promised, no matter how stupid he thought it was. You looked away from all of them sheepishly, rubbing your arm, but saying nothing. There was an awkward silence for a moment before Barry spoke up.

        "Are you guys...Okay?" More silence. Cisco threw his hands into the air, finally giving up.

        "Yeah, everything's fine. With me at least. I can't say the same for her though," he threw a hand in your direction, and you closed your eyes, sucking in a deep breath.

        "Cisco-"

        "What? I didn't say anything. I left the fun part for you."

        "Y/n, what is he talking about?" Iris asked, taking a step further into the room than the boys would dare.

        "I-I- nothing. It's nothing. I'm fine." You stuttered out, unsure of how to get out of this.

        "Oh for Pete's- It. Is NOT! NOTHING!"

        "Woah, Cisco, calm down dude." Barry walked over to his friend, taking him by the shoulders and moving him back a bit.

        "Okay someone better tell me what the hell is going on right now or we're gonna have some issues." Joe stated, pointing to the two of you.

        "It's nothing, I-" Before Cisco had the chance to explode again, Iris held up her finger to him.

        "Okay, don't say it's nothing, because clearly it isn't. I'm pretty sure you're going to give Cisco a stroke if you say that one more time." Her voice was firm, but her touch was gentle as she rested her hand on your arm. "What's going on?"

        "It's noth-" you winced as you caught yourself, and you looked frantically around the room as if searching for a way out of this, "I- I just- I-" You stumbled over your words as you tried to find the right thing to say. Preferably something that would cause minimum concern, or at least de-escalate the situation at hand.

        "Take a breath, Y/n." Joe's soothing deep voice cut through the chaos in your head, and you closed your eyes, inhaling deeply.

        "I- I've just been having really bad dreams, lately." Blanket terms. As simple as you could hope to put it.

        "You're fighting...over...bad dreams?" Barry sounded confused, and you could tell by his voice that he looked it to.

        "Yeah, I'm not following." Joe chimed in. You squeezed your eyes tight, not wanting to explain any further.

        "How recently did they start?" Iris asked, rubbing your arm as she pulled you closer to her, away from Cisco's wide-eyed, hopeful form.

        "Not too long ago- um- just a couple weeks." You were tiptoeing around the actual issue at hand, hoping they would let it slide.

        "A couple weeks? Like- wait, a couple weeks like these started happening after you two fought the Twisted Shifter?" Joe asked incredulously as he looked back towards the door and back at you.

        You bit your lip and looked down, nodding as you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself.

        "Wait, is he still in your head?" Barry was suddenly coming to understand the situation at hand.

        "Whoomp, there it is," you heard Cisco behind you, and you squeezed your eyes tight again. Barry looked between the two of you.

        "Y/n, why didn't you tell us this?" You tried not to flinch at the disappointment and concern in Barry's voice as he questioned you.

        "They're honestly not that bad, I didn't think it was that big a deal-"

        "Oh no no ma'am! You are not going to pull that crap anymore." Cisco shook his finger at you as he approached you, then turned to the others. "She hasn't slept a full night in a week and a half. She's been forcing herself to stay awake so that she can avoid them, and there's only so much Michael Gambon Dumbledore a man can take, people!"

        "What are the dreams about?" Barry asked. Immediately, your lips drew into a tight line. This was not something you were prepared to talk about. Not with Barry, not with Cisco, hell, not even with yourself. "Y/n, if it's something that can help us beat Twisted Shifter-"

        "It's not." You interrupted him, shaking your head.

        "Are you sure? There's nothing he's making you see that we can use?"

        "No. It's just...He's just messing with my memories. That's all."

        "That's all?"

        "Yes, Barry, that's all. I swear. There's nothing in my head that's useful for this mission right now."

        "Hey, she won't even tell me what they're about, so don't feel bad man." Cisco reassured Barry, clapping him on the shoulder.

        "Okay...well, we should probably have Caitlin and Cisco run a few tests on you anyway, see if they can figure out a way to block him out."

        "Everything's gonna be okay, Y/n." Iris reassured you as she squeezed your arm, then left to go back to the cortex. Joe and Barry left promptly, leaving you and Cisco alone again. Silently, you sunk into your chair, schlumping down as if the past 10 minutes had wiped everything out of you. And mentally, of course, they had. 

        "Y/n-"

        "Don't, Cisco." You held one hand up to stop him and rested your forehead in the palm of the other. "I can't right now. I just can't"

        "Okay." His voice was tiny, and quiet as he nodded in response. "You know where to find me."

        At home later that night, you were walking around Cisco's living room clad in yet another one of his t-shirts. You had brought your own clothes from home, of course, but you simply liked wearing Cisco's better. There was something about the familiarity of each shirt that made you feel safer, almost.

        "Y/n, can we please talk." Cisco was pleading with you as he moved to stand directly in your path. You stopped, and looked him in the eye, your expression blank. You had hardly said anything the rest of the day- just answers to questions Caitlin and Cisco asked while they were running their tests. You had just been left completely drained after the event of the day. "I'm sorry, okay? Actually, you know what? No I'm not. You needed to tell people what's been going on, and you did, and, surprise surprise, everyone's working to help you!" Silence. "Okay, look," his form deflated as he looked at you, feeling defeated, "I know you're upset with me. I get it. I'm sorry about that part, but not the rest. You're finally getting help. Soon we can have all of this figured out, and you can go home and-"

        "You are my home." The words left your mouth before you had the chance to process them, and your hand flew to your face almost immediately. Cisco blinked, taken completely off-guard, and it took him a second to process what you had said. Once it sunk in, however, Cisco's expression softened significantly. His chest filled with warmth as he reached out to you. His hands stopped, however, before they made contact with you, as he remembered all the times you had pushed him away throughout the day. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

        "Can I? I'm not trying to vibe you, I swear. ...I just want to hold you." You could hear the yearning in his voice as he opened his eyes to reveal a pleading look. You took a step back and saw his heart break a little. After a moment of consideration, you nodded slowly. Letting out a long sigh, he reached out and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you snugly into his chest. It was more of a relief for the man than he thought it would be, and he felt a weight being lifted from his shoulders as he finally got to hold you again. He wanted nothing more than to keep you safe and happy, and every time you pushed his affection away, he felt a little piece of him die a little.

        You stood there for what felt to you like ages, just tucked away safely into Cisco's arms as he held you. You were almost falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat when he finally spoke up.

        "Be mine. Like, for real. I want you to be mine. I want to do all the stupid cheesy couple things with you and I want to tell people you're my girl and I want to be able to hold you and kiss you and smack your ass in public," despite how your heart was racing, you couldn't help but giggle a little, "and I want you to know that you'll always have a home here." You could hear the smile in Cisco's voice as he spoke, and you couldn't keep a matching one from growing on yours as you simply nodded, burying your face in his chest. You could hear his heart skip a beat, and couldn't help but giggle as you realized you had caused it to do that. Suddenly, Cisco had scooped you up into his arms, and was carrying you into the bedroom. Gently, he tossed you onto the bed, causing you to laugh as he climbed on top of you. "There's that beautiful smile." A soft hum came from your throat as he bent his head down and planted a kiss on your neck. There was a quiet gasp that came from him, and he suddenly went still.

        "Cisco?" You reached up and grabbed his biceps, then ran one hand up into his hair. "What's wrong?" He suddenly lifted his head up and looked at you, blinking slowly.

        "Nothing. Everything's fine." He smiled and bent down to kiss your cheek, then got up and walked to the kitchen. You sat up on his bed, crossing your legs as you looked out the door behind him in confusion.

        "Just forgot I left the oven on." He remarked as he entered the room once again. You simply nodded and watched as he did a lap around the room to throw laundry into the pile, then returned to you. "Hey." There was a wide smile on Cisco's lips as he looked at you, then down to your lips, then back again. The simple gesture made your face flush, and you smiled back at him goofily.

        "Hi." The word came out as a giggle, which only made Cisco's smile wider as he reached out and ran his hand through your hair. His thumb ran along your bottom hairline and you froze, your smile faltering.

        "I never noticed this scar before." He commented as he pushed your hair away from the long-healed wound. 

        "Huh. Funny." You replied, your mouth going dry as you backed up a bit.

        "What's it from?" You were quiet for a moment, trying to come up with a convincing story when you heard a flash of Cisco's thoughts. Your eyes immediately widened, and you looked at him with panic and anger.

        "You vibed me!" His eyes widened at the exclamation and he shook his head.

        "N-no, I didn't, I-"

        "And you're lying to me about it? God, Cisco." You groaned, burying your head in your hands. 

        "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to. I really didn't, I swear. How did you know?" You looked up at him and were silent for a minute. He raised his eyebrows at you. "You were in my head?"

        "It was an accident-"

        "So was vibing you! Sometimes it just happens, alright? Let's just move on." You nodded as he climbed onto the bed next to you, and you were both silent for a few minutes. Your hand drifted up to the scar at the base of your skull.

        "Cis...what...what did you see?" Your voice was quiet as you stared straight ahead. He didn't respond, so you turned to look at him. He was leaning back against the headboard of the bed, with a look on his face that told you he wasn't sure if he should tell you. "What was it?" You asked again. He sighed and sat up a bit more, running his hand over his face.

        "I saw...that." He gestured to where your hand was still pressed to the back of your neck. Another brief moment of silence.

        "All of it?"

        "Y/n, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

        "So you saw all of it." He sighed heavily.

        "Yes, I did. I saw all of it...Is that what you've been having nightmares about?" You bit your lip as you felt your eyes well up. Hot tears started rolling down your cheeks before you had the chance to control them, and Cisco reached out to grab you around the waist and pull you back to him. "Baby..." His voice sounded sad, which only made you cry even more. He smoothed your hair down and kissed your head, simply waiting for you to calm down. "You're okay, I promise. We don't have to talk about it tonight. Let's wait until tomorrow morning when you've gotten some sleep, alright. You need to wind down." He rested one hand on your back as he reached out and grabbed the tv remote, turning on the second Harry Potter movie. "Scoot." He urged you to move forward, then slipped behind you and pulled you back between his legs. His hands began to work their way across your shoulders and back, carefully rubbing out every knot. You let your head fall forward, and he pushed your hair over your shoulder to place a kiss on the back of your neck. You smiled a little bit and closed your tired eyes.

        "Thanks, Cis."

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 12- Grief

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Masterlist Ko-fi

Over the course of your relationship Hawks has seen you pissed off quite a bit. He’s seen you mildly annoyed, he’s seen you decently irritated, and he’s seen you practically rabid with rage. He is intimately familiar with the spectrum of your anger.

And yet all of those times combined cannot compare to the level of rage he sees in you now.

Red Riot, who Hawks now realizes must have arrived with you, rushes to Bakugo’s side to check on him. Only once you’re positive Hawks and Bakugo won’t lunge at each other again do you unceremoniously drop Hawks to the ground. “What the fuck is your problem?” you demand as you storm over to him. “Look I’m sorry but-“ he starts but you don’t let him finish. “There shouldn’t be a ‘but’ in that sentence Hawks why the fuck are you fighting Bakugo of all people? You could’ve killed him!” “Technically he could’ve killed me too, let’s not make him sound helpless.” “That is NOT the point Hawks.” “Right yea no, of course it isn’t. Look I’m sorry things got out of hand but-” “Out of hand? OUT OF HAND? Your lack of self awareness is genuinely fucking phenomenal my GOD.” “Christ will you fucking listen to me instead of cutting me off every fucking time I try to speak?” “You don’t get to make demands right now! You know all this shit reflects back on me!” “Right your precious fucking reputation.” “Yes! My job relies on it remember!” “Could you forget about All Might and the press and whatever else for one goddamn minute? Our relationship is fucking drowning in it!” “What fucking relationship? I don’t even know what the fuck this is anymore.” “What are you on about now?” “We’re not lovers Hawks! We’re just strangers with the same damn hunger to be touched, to be loved, to feel anything at all and it’s gotten genuinely pathetic now.” “Pathetic?” “Yes pathetic! Because clearly we aren’t supposed to be together!” “Says who?” “Look around you Hawks! Apparently fucking everyone and everything!”

Your words seem to echo around the two of you, both of your chests heaving in the wake of the argument. Both of you had forgotten yourselves for a moment and as awareness creeps back in you suddenly can feel the eyes of every reporter and civilian in the area boring into you. “What are you saying (y/n)?” Hawks asks and his voice is heartbreakingly quiet, hands clenched into fists. “I’m saying this is done,” you reply. “Don’t do this, please, I love you and-“ “No you don’t Hawks. You might think you do but you don’t. We love love and the idea of it and for fleeting moments between the arguments and the press and our bosses and everything else we thought we had it but we don’t. Or at least it’s not strong enough to out weigh everything else. I’m sorry,” you sigh before turning away. Cameras flash and reporters shout questions but you ignore them all as you walk over to where Kirishima is helping Bakugo up off the ground. “(Y/n)-“ Bakugo starts to say but you cut him off. “Don’t. I’ll deal with you after we get you patched up,” you tell him before you and Kirishima start walking him back to your agency.

Hawks stares after you, feeling frozen in place as you leave him behind and take his shattered heart with you. “Told you so,” Monoma suddenly taunts from beside him. Hawks jumps, having not noticed when Monoma had come down from the building’s rooftop. Hawks whirls around to face him, grabbing hold of the collar of his shirt. “Ah, ah, ah, don’t you think you’ve done enough damage?” Monoma asks cheekily, jerking his head towards the still flashing cameras. Hawks’ grip tightens momentarily before releasing the other man. Unfortunately Monoma has a point and Hawks really isn’t eager to make things even harder for you. “Don’t worry bird boy, I’ll invite you to our wedding,” Monoma tells the other man before flouncing away, pleased with himself. Hawks tells himself the best he can do now is wait for you to calm down and talk to you then so without another word and before he can do anything else to worsen the situation, he takes off back to Endeavor’s agency and hopes the others from the task force will have good news to share.

The first words he hears when he walks into the meeting room on the top floor are “You’re a fucking idiot” from none other than Shoto Todoroki himself. “I really don’t want to talk about it,” Hawks sighs. “You’re the only one. Pretty much every gossip blog and news outlet ever is talking about it,” Tokoyami tells him. “Headlines are all about how (y/n) is rubbing off on you in the worst possible ways and speculating about your break up,” Midoriya adds in, an unspoken accusation buried beneath his faux neutral tone. “We didn’t break up, she’s just upset,” Hawks denies, desperate to be right. “Really? Looked like a break up to me and the thousands of people who’ve already read the articles and the few dozen people that watched this whole train wreck you started,” Shoto quips. “Can we please just focus on the mission? Please tell me you got good intel,” Hawks sighs. “Since some of us are capable of doing our job, yes. Luckily for you the terror group is in the building we were watching and since you and Kacchan drew so much attention to the other building they think we’re way off base in our search for them. We should be able to make a move by this weekend,” Midoriya informs him. “Great. What now?” Hawks replies. “Now we wait to move out and I go back to my agency to reassure my probably panicked best friend,” Midoriya bites out before handing the last of his operation notes to Shoto and storming out.

“Jesus, I thought Deku was a puppy,” Hawks remarks as the door slams closed. “Midoriya’s always been scary when he wants to be, he’s just also very genuinely kind,” Tokoyami shrugs. “Which is exactly why being on his bad side is a nightmare,” Shoto points out. “Thanks Shoto. Really making me feel better.” “I wasn’t trying to make you feel better. In fact you should feel bad.” “I’m gonna call her,” Hawks sighs as he pulls out his phone to dial your number. The first call rings for awhile before going to voicemail. So does the second. The third is sent straight to voicemail. The fourth doesn’t even go through as he’s promptly alerted his number has been blocked. Hawks swears and tosses his phone onto the table in frustration. “I must have really crossed the line,” he sighs. “You think?” Shoto asks with a raised eyebrow.

“For the record I threw the first punch,” Bakugo admits somewhat sheepishly as you dab at one of several cuts he sustained during the fight. “Unprovoked?” “Obviously not.” “Then it doesn’t change anything. And you’re not off the hook either, what the fuck were you thinking?” you question as you start bandaging him up. “I don’t know, Monoma was being a little shit which got Hawks all worked up and then I tried to get him to back down and we both got worked up and well... you know how that went,” he admits. He watches as your phone lights up again with Hawks’ contact info. You grab it, sending him to voicemail again before blocking his number and putting your phone back down. “Are you sure about breaking up with him?” Bakugo asks and you can tell by how uncharacteristically gentle his voice is that he’s concerned. “I.... don’t know. In a perfect world I’d love to take the time to unpack all of this bullshit and work it out with him. I already know I’ll miss him. I’ll miss the mornings with him laying in my bed and the thought of a forever him and me but I bet all he’ll miss is my body,” you confess. “Don’t you think you’re not giving him enough credit?” “Probably. But I can’t sit at home and be his housewife which means I have to focus on salvaging my career. I’m lucky All Might is out of the office, gives me time to try and think up a sales pitch.” “You’re a good hero (y/n). All Might knows that.” “He also knows he gave me an ultimatum,” you point out. You finish off bandaging Bakugo up and he looks as if he’s about to say something else but you resume talking before he can. “I’m going to head home and lie low. Hopefully I’ll still be employed next time you see me,” you sigh before giving Bakugo’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze and walking out.

The video of you and Hawks’ break up is already viral by the time you get back to your apartment.

You walk straight past the living room, completely ignoring your concerned roommates, and head right into your room. Your phone alerts you to several no doubt concerned texts from Midoriya but you ignore them all as you collapse onto your bed. You lie there for awhile, letting your phone ping almost incessantly with concern from your friends and all the news alerts mentioning your name. When your ringtone cuts through all the other alerts you almost ignore it, assuming it’s Midoriya calling to check on you. Your heart sinks when All Might’s name flashes on the screen instead. You take a deep breath, stubbornly ignoring the way it rattles in your chest, and then answer the phone. “(Y/n)....” All Might starts. “I know,” you answer. “We had a deal.” “I’m a good hero. You know I am.” “I know you are. But we had a deal. I’m sorry.”

Numb.

Achingly,

Heart wrenchingly,

World endingly,

Numb.

That’s how you feel as you listen to All Might continue to justify his decision without actually hearing a word he’s saying. You vaguely register apologies and talk of the agency’s reputation, but for the most part you’re too busy feeling your entire universe crashing down around you to pay much attention to his words. You don’t know how long it’s been when you finally register that he’s been calling your name. “(Y/n)! Are you alright?” All Might presses. You don’t answer. You hang up your phone, face still blank, as Denki and Mina appear in your doorway. They both look you over for a long moment before wordlessly climbing onto your bed to join you. They cuddle up on either side of you and only once you’re safely wrapped up in their arms do you finally allow yourself to break. You mourn the career you worked so hard for as sobs wrack through your body. Your chest and ribs burn with the force of it but the feeling is nothing compared to the bitter grief of losing your job. As your friends hold you, you utter only one heartbreaking phrase between sobs:

“What am I if not a hero?”

Author’s Note: 🥲 we’re getting close to the end game now everyone, and boy oh boy does it hurt

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Love your writing! I was wondering if you could write something where Draco and y/n get into an argument and it ends up with both of them crying and confronting each other?

Oh you want Angst? I GOT A WHOLE VAT OF ANGST

You and Draco. God you two were this ultimate couple. You got together after your third year, both of you falling head over heels. You both absolutely adored each other. However this was not a good day for either of you. You got into a fight. Something was going on with you that you absolutely avoided talking about. Draco respected your privacy but you were now acting out. That wouldn’t be a problem if this didn’t involve fights and other self destructive habits. You were essentially breaking yourself and Draco was having enough of it. “Y/n would you fucking hold still!?” He groaned as he put disinfectant on a cut near your eyebrow. “It hurts Draco, excuse me if I don’t appreciate the burning sensation.” you mumbled. He sighed. “What the hell drove you to even piss off Pansy?” Draco asked. “Why are you assuming I pissed off her?” You asked. “Because you’ve literally been looking for fights for the past few weeks. I haven’t said anything but I have to know: is something going on that I don’t know about?” Draco asked. You sighed and pulled away. “No.” you lied. “Y/n.” Draco said. “I don’t have to tell you shit, okay!?” You snapped. Draco frowned. “Y/n, what is going on?” Draco asked. “It’s nothing! Christ!” You said. “Y/n why won’t you just talk to me!?” Draco asked. “Because I don’t fucking have to!” You yelled, clearly aggravated. Draco shook his head, looking at you. “Y/n, what is wrong? Did I do something?” he asked. Your silence was an answer he didn’t like. Oh shit, what did Draco do? “What did I do?” Draco asked calmly. “I know about the bet.” You said, glaring at him. Oh. Oh no no no no “Well you fucking won!” you said throwing your hands up.

A few months before you started dating, Draco made a bet with Pansy that he could get you to love him. Considering you hated talking to people, this was a challenge that was going to take a while. What you didn’t realize is that two weeks into the challenge Draco dropped it because he actually liked you. “Y/n...” Draco sighed. “Don’t. Just don’t okay.” You snapped. “You have every right to be angry.” Draco said. “Yes. I do.” You said. “I’m sorry.” Draco said. You shook your head. “Sorry isn’t fixing this Draco.” You said. He sighed and you shook with anger, unable to look in his vicinity. “I trusted you. And after everything I’ve been through, you know that isn’t easy.” You said shaking. “I can’t fix this--” “You’re fucking right you can’t! Draco I loved you. I loved you and supported you, even though you’ve done some pretty fucked up things!” You snapped. “Y/n--” “I depended on you! I thought you my entire God damn world!” You yelled. Any student could walk in on this conversation but you didn’t care. You were tired. So fucking tired. “I don’t know what to say-- I will do anything to fix this Y/n!” Draco said, pleading with you. “No! Draco no! You knew I had a hard time around people. I hated being around them but I found comfort with you. Now I can’t even look at you.” You said angrily. Draco was silent. So were you. You were crying and Draco reached out, making you back away. “Tell me it was a lie. Please.” You whimpered. Draco couldn’t look at that expression. He closed his eyes and you shook your head. “Oh my god.” You whimpered. “Oh my god I feel so stupid.” You whispered. “Love, no--” “Don’t!” You snapped. “We’re done.” You said. Draco shook his head. “Y/n I can’t lose you, not like this.” Draco said. “Then tell me it was a lie. Tell me that this is one big misunderstanding.” You said. “I can’t.” he admitted. “Then that’s it.” You said. “You want to throw all of this away-- just like that!?” He asked, frantically, tears building in his eyes. “I love myself too much to EVER put myself through this shit. Until you fucking find a way to reverse this, we’re done.” You snapped. You left, leaving Draco alone. Draco sat on the edge of the couch in the common room, sobbing into his hands. 

You weren’t any better, going back to the Gryffindor common room in tears. Fred and George looked up from and stopped you. “Woah woah woah, what happened?” Fred asked. You said nothing, hugging him and he looked at George with a “What do we do?” glance. After calming down, you explained everything to him. The fight, the dare. Everything. “I am going to kill Malfoy.” George growled. “I can’t believe that fucking moron would do this.” Fred sighed. “I just wasted nine months of my time.” You muttered, looking at the fire in the fireplace. George hugged you, you sighing and wiping your eyes before someone walked in. “Y/n.” a voice said you turned around and groaned. “What do you want Pansy?” You asked. “I need to talk to you. Alone.” Pansy said. Fred and George looked at you and you nodded that it was okay and they left. “Heard you had a break up.” Pansy said. “Really. What gave it away? Was it the emotional distress or the newfound trust issues?” You asked sarcastically. “Draco’s been having a meltdown. I want to explain this. All of this.” Pansy sighed. “I thought you hated our relationship?” you said confused. “It’s better than having Draco’s snot on my skirt because he was crying on me.” She said. You rolled your eyes and looked away. “The dare wasn’t all him. I came up with the idea.” She began. “Why?” You asked. “Easy target. We were bored, you were there.” She sighed. “Draco took it. Mainly because no one except Fred and George knew you and he figured since you were in Gryffindor there was nothing to worry about.” Pansy said. “Then. Two weeks in, he called it off. We all thought ‘wow is she that unbearable?’. But we knew that wasn’t possible because he was getting to know you anyways.” Pansy explained. “Two weeks was all that boy needed before falling head over heels for you Y/n. That’s fourteen days.” “I can do math Pansy. But that doesn’t change the fact that he lied to me Pansy. I don’t trust people easily and I trusted him.” You said. “It’s not like he went and told us your darkest personal thoughts here.” She said. You shook your head. “Pansy, I trusted him to come to me on his own terms. Not a fucking bet. A bet I had to find out about through Blaise!” you snapped. She sighed. “Look, I’m not saying the situation isn’t fucked. It is. All I’m saying is to try to see this like Draco does. He hates people. He hates talking, he hates interacting, he hates it. But he went to you. He befriended you, yes on the pretense of a bet, but he stayed. He never trusted anyone until you. I get you not wanting to date again. But at least talk to him.” She said. You sighed. “I hate that you’re logical.” You muttered. “Someone has to be logical in this bitch. You and Draco are so God damn dramatic I half expected to come back to a Hamlet reenactment.” Pansy grumbled. 

The next day Draco didn’t even bother with classes. He just remained face planted on the sofa, hair messed up, clothes wrinkled... The boy was a disaster. Finally he had a plan. He got up one morning, leaving something for you in the common room. You walked out and saw journals sitting on the coffee table. “What’s this?” You asked. “Draco dropped them off. Said they were for you. Can we use them as kindling?” Fred asked. You sat on the couch, opening it to see that it was his diaries... Why the hell did he leave this here? 

Well after reading and looking in it you knew why. You were HEAVILY mentioned in them, him starting off in true Draco fashion and acting like a smartass the entire entry. He was so sure he had that bet in the bag. Then you got to the next one. “We have a lot in common.” followed by “I never thought I’d be able to tolerate a Gryffindor.” the next entry made it clear how this was going “I’m beginning to think this bet was a terrible idea. It’s like I’m betraying her in some way.” You gripped the book tightly reading on. “She’s becoming a constant thought. I swear Snape is beginning to think I’m on something because of how spaced out she makes me.” You swallowed a forming lump in your throat “I called off the bet. I couldn’t do it. I think I actually fell for her. Ironic. I was supposed to seduce her.. Instead she’s captivated me.” You let out a long shaking breath. You spent most of the night reading page after page. His first kiss with you, his first date, his first time seeing you in a dress, his first time talking with you all night, the first night you two woke up next to each other. Your heart stopped when you read “Honest to God... I want to marry this woman. I want to keep her in my life for as long as humanly possible. She’s trusted me with so much, as I her. I love her. She’s my world. She sang this song in front of me once... I think the best way to describe this is.. I’m stupid in love.” You closed the last journal and leaned back crying. “Y/n? Do I have to kill someone?” George asked. “Guys... I messed up.” You admitted. You explained what you just read, avoiding any deep personal thoughts that Draco most likely wouldn’t want them to know. “....Crap.” Fred groaned. “What?” You asked. “I want to hate this kid. But... Damn if this isn’t a way to make up for this.” He admitted. “Feeling like he betrayed your inner thoughts so he gave you his... Even I can admit this is... Wow.” George agreed. “I have to go find him.” You said leaving.

You walked in seeing his face buried in a pillow, laying flat on the couch. “What the hell?” You muttered, making him snap up. His hair... Yes, you were depressed from the breakup but that hair looked like an owl nested in it and you snorted, busting out laughing. Draco was confused until he saw his reflection and fixed it. You recovered after a bit and finally cleared your throat. “I’m here to say--” “Can I--” “Uh--” “Oh you talk--” “No you--” You both sighed and you motioned for him to talk. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You trusted me with your feelings and I betrayed them. It doesn’t matter if I called off the bet or not, I just... I’m so sorry and I understand if you can’t trust me.” Draco said. You nodded. “It is going to take time for you to earn back this trust. But... I betrayed your trust too. You trusted me to stay and I didn’t... You trusted me with your thoughts, your ideas, your love and I just... I left.” You said. Draco swallowed. “I read them. The journals. All of them.” you admitted. You took in a breath. “I’m sorry.” You said. He shook his head, hugging you. “You did nothing wrong Love...” he said. You pulled away, wiping your eyes. “I love you Draco.” You whispered. He rested his forehead on yours 

“I love you too.” 

[jenanigans1207]

You Felt Like Mine |BakuDeku| |1|

In the end, it’s not a villain’s quirk that gets Izuku, it’s the quirk of the woman he’s rescuing.

Katsuki was there, but he didn’t see it happen. He’s only heard about it from the police officers and the woman herself. All things considered, it doesn’t sound too bad. Izuku was able to land safely before losing consciousness and Katsuki finished off the fight and rounded up the villains just fine. Katsuki found Izuku’s body slumped on the ground and walked him to the hospital himself, the woman trailing a few steps behind him, knowing she’s important but too timid to approach Katsuki directly. The walk to the hospital was short and the emergency room doctors took Izuku immediately, calling Recovery Girl and carting him off somewhere to be treated, promising they’d come find Katsuki the moment Izuku was allowed to have visitors again.

So then, Katsuki  got to do the two things that he never wanted to do: call Izuku’s mom to tell her what happened and wait.

The first was distinctly uncomfortable but it was over quickly. She begged Katsuki for details that he didn’t have yet, so the most he could do was promise to call her again when he knew more. He did his best to be reassuring without lying to her and honestly, he was pretty shit at it. But Inko knew him well and appreciated his efforts all the same.

The second, though, that was nearly torture. Katsuki wasn’t known for being patient on his good days and shit like having his hero partner and best friend down was not considered a good day. He paced Izuku’s room restlessly, blatantly ignoring the chair that was situated right next to his bed and bristling every time somebody suggested that he take a seat.

In the end, the quirk wasn’t that harmful, although it did make Katsuki feel like his stomach was an anchor, sinking slowly to his goddamn feet.

The woman who had accidentally discharged her quirk on him was more than happy to explain all of the details to them, apologizing profusely for any trouble she had caused. She absolutely hadn’t meant to use her quirk, but she’d been so frightened in the moment that she’d briefly lost control. Katsuki wasn’t particularly inclined to forgive her, especially given the nature of her quirk, but he bit his tongue and swallowed the words because he was a pro hero and she was a civilian and he had no right to say the things he wanted to say to her.

“It’s sort of a memory loss quirk.” She at least had the decency to look sheepish and that alone was probably the only reason Katsuki didn’t flip the table between them. “But it doesn’t erase someone’s entire memory! It only erases their memories… of the person they love the most.”

The entire room got very, very still after that, everyone staring at her and waiting for her to say something else. Katsuki can’t speak for anyone else, but he’s personally waiting for her to take it back and say that this is some kind of sick fucking joke.

She doesn’t.

“They can get their memories back!” She rushes on, placing her palms flat on the table, likely to steel herself. Katsuki knows the weight of his stare can be pretty heavy but he couldn’t possibly be bothered to care. “It’s just that, ah, the person they love needs them to fall in love with them again.”

Katsuki sucks a breath in through his teeth, trying to use it to calm himself down. It doesn’t work, but he has enough practice at not cussing out people he’s meant to protect by now that he can at least get through his question with some semblance of civility. “So what you’re telling us,” He begins stiffly, his shoulders feeling tight. “Is that Deku is going to wake up and he’s going to remember absolutely everything except one person? And whoever that person he forgot is, that’s the person he’s secretly in love with? And that person, whoever they are,” Katsuki is so close to smashing his fist through the wall or exploding the table to smithereens between all of them. Holding his anger in check is getting physically painful. “Has to get Deku to fall in love with them again, or he’ll never remember who they are? Am I missing anything?”

Despite his clearly simmering rage, all eyes in the room remained glued on the woman as Katsuki talked, gauging her reaction and waiting for her to respond. She looked down at her hands on the table, bottom lip wobbling and it only served to piss Katsuki off further. She had no right to be upset right now. She wasn’t about to find out that her best friend and closest person  was in love with someone else. She got to walk out of here and go back to her life, all of this forgotten. But Katsuki was moments away from facing one of his worst nightmares. So fuck her and her wobbling lip, she wouldn’t be getting any sympathy from Katsuki.

“No,” She replies quietly, “You didn’t miss anything. You’ve got it all right.”

“Fucking splendid.” Katsuki growls, knowing he’s going to get reprimanded by Izuku for that when he hears about it. And he will hear about it because he somehow manages to hear about everything, all the time.

It’s not like Izuku’s scoldings have stopped him in the past, though. Although, Katsuki will admit that Izuku has helped shape him into a better person, one more fit to be a protector of society, if only barely.  Izuku spent his entire life at Katsuki’s side, enduring his scalding moods, getting his ear chewed off repeatedly and having his ass blasted to high heaven on more than one occasion. But Izuku also stayed at Katsuki’s side when he decided to become less of an asshole (less being the operative word), when he went through a rough few years trying to find out who he was. Izuku was still by his side, to this day, smiling through his verbal beatdowns and picking him up whenever he fell. The one constant in Katsuki’s life was izuku.

And yet, despite all of that, and behind everyone’s backs, Izuku had fallen in love with someone. At least, that was the only thing Katsuki could assume. There was a slim— very, very marginally slim— chance that Izuku didn’t love anyone and would wake up perfectly fine and Katsuki could let out a breath of relief and tease the damn nerd relentlessly for it. But the odds of that were so slim that Katsuki didn’t even let himself consider it. It was only reasonable to assume that Izuku loved somebody. The kid was warmth and sunshine and happiness and full of so much goddamn love that he just exuded it. It spilled over without him even trying, pouring from his heart like he just made too much of it to keep to himself.

Izuku not finding someone to love was nearly impossible to believe.

These thoughts burn through Katsuki’s mind as he stands from the table and stalks away, heading back to Izuku’s room. He has no further questions for the woman, doesn’t care what the cops end up doing with her. Likely she’ll get fined for using her quirk against a pro hero, even if it was an accident, but it doesn’t really matter. All Katsuki wants is some distance from this. He wants to simultaneously get it over with and run from it completely. He doesn’t want to find out who Izuku is in love with, but it doesn’t seem like there’s much of a choice in the matter.

The back of his throat tastes bitter with emotions he swallowed down a long time ago.

He pushes open the door to Izuku’s room and strides in confidently, halfway to the bed before he realizes there’s a pair of green eyes staring back at him from amongst the blankets. “Oh thank fuck.” he says, eyes landing on Deku.

The relief he feels is small, but he refuses to focus on the other emotion swirling in his gut, the dread. He doesn’t want to know who Izuku secretly loves, he thinks again, doesn’t think his life— or heart— needs that information. Doesn’t think he can handle that information. And he’s damn certain that he won’t be able to handle watching whoever it is make Izuku fall back in love with them.

And no, thanks, Bakugo won’t admit that he has feelings for Izuku. He won’t say anything of the like, mind your fucking business.

“Honestly, you chose the middle of the battle to try and catch up on some beauty sleep?” He gripes as he finally takes a seat in the chair next to Izuku’s bed. He’d been too restless before, too anxious for Izuku to open his eyes to sit. But now that Izuku was awake and Katsuki knew that nothing life threatening had come from that quirk, he could settle his nerves enough to sit relatively still.  “Leaving me to do all the hard work? That’s pretty low. Especially for you, Deku.”

The use of his name seems to surprise Izuku whose eyes suddenly become wide saucers staring back at Katsuki. “You know who I am?”

“The fuck?” Katsuki meets his gaze head on, eyebrows knitted together in frustrated confusion. What was the nerd on about this time? “Of course I know who you are, you idiot. What kind of question is that? I’m not the one who got hit with a quirk.”

“Hit with a quirk…” Izuku mumbles and immediately, Katsuki can see the gears turning in his mind, trying to piece it all together. It should be relatively easy, given what the woman had said. Izuku should, as far as Katsuki had clarified, remember every single thing but this one person. So he should know that he’s a pro hero, that he was in a fight, that he’s Katsuki’s hero partner and together they have been topping the polls consistently since they graduated.

He shouldn’t, however, be surprised that his childhood friend, middle school rival and then high school half-friend is sitting in his hospital room, aware of who he is and waiting for him to wake up. So truthfully, Katsuki’s not really sure what to do with that information.

“Real inconvenient for me, nerd.” Katsuki mumbles, but he doesn���t mean it and he’s sure Izuku knows that.

Despite the fact that they’d grown closer again, despite the fact that Izuku had forgiven Katsuki for all the terrible years of their past even without receiving a formal apology, they still interacted in much the same way they always had. It was just that the genuine bite and the underlying hatred was gone from it. But their interactions were a sort of comfort to both of them, a defining characteristic of a relationship that they both held dear, even if Izuku was the only one to ever really put that into words. Katsuki still used his nicknames for Izuku, still bristled when the man interrupted him. But now, Izuku smiled through those things, bumping his shoulders with Katsuki’s and laughing at the pinched expression on his face.

Katsuki certainly hadn’t ever succeeded at pushing Izuku away— not even at his worst— so he had resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t about to succeed at it now. And this resignation seemed to give Izuku a boldness and a sense of belonging that allowed him to nestle right in along Katsuki’s heart and refuse to apologize for being there.

“Is that why you know me, then?” Izuku asks, completely bypassing Katsuki’s comment. Katsuki has the words on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask Izuku what the fuck he’s on about again and to tell him what a stupid question that is when Izuku deals a blow that Katsuki did not see coming. “Because I don’t know you.”

The entire world grinds to painful, screeching halt around Katsuki as he stares at Izuku, mouth open as he tries to figure out what the fuck he’s supposed to say back to that. Unsurprisingly, nothing really comes to mind, so he snaps his jaw shut and just stares at Izuku, bores into him, pleads with him to take back his stupid, sick joke. He glares at Izuku with as much force as he can muster under the situation and watches as the seconds tick by and Izuku wilts under the weight of it.

“I’m sorry!” Izuku rushes, reading Katsuki’s expression clearly and easily. “It’s obvious that we know each other somehow. I just— I don’t remember. Did I hit my head? Or— what does that quirk I got hit with do? Is that why I don’t remember you? I feel so terrible!”

“Deku,” Katsuki says evenly, hands gripping the arm rests of the chair with so much force that he might snap them right off. “This isn’t funny. This is a really shitty joke.”

Izuku is gripping the blankets in his lap with equal force, looking distressed. Katsuki knows that look, and can read how genuine it is with ease. He’s seen it on Izuku’s face so many times over the years. And truthfully, Izuku would never play a prank like this, Katsuki knows that, even if he can’t believe what’s actually happening. Izuku really, truly, has no idea who he is. “I’m not joking! Please— please tell me about the quirk. When does it wear off? What can I do to remember you?”

A long silence stretches between the two of them. It’s just quiet. Everywhere. In the room, in Katsuki’s mind, everywhere. There isn’t a single sound, not one fucking thing breaking their eye contact, but Katsuki waits. He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for— something, anything to break the trance, to make Izuku admit that, for the first time ever in his entire goddamn life, he decided to play a practical joke. He waits for the woman to come in and say she explained it wrong, that Katsuki somehow misunderstood the information she had given him. He waits, he fucking waits, but none of that comes.

The thing to finally break the silence is Izuku, eyes cast downwards as he fiddles with the blanket and Katsuki’s heart is ripping open in his chest. “I really am sorry. I get the impression that we’re close.”

Finally, Katsuki releases the arms of the chair, scrubbing his hands across his face. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, but it doesn’t help. It’s not anger that’s swirling around in his gut, it’s something else. Something he doesn’t know how to deal with. It’s an emotion that he recognizes, even if he’s refused, repeatedly, to put a name to it. It makes him feel sick, jittery, wrong.

But he has to at least start giving Izuku some answers. “We’re hero partners.” He begins, moving his hands up to grip fistfulls of his hair so that way they aren’t muffling his words. “And best friends. We’ve known each other our entire lives.”

Izuku’s eyes are impossibly wide as they snap back up to meet Katsuki’s gaze. For a brief moment, Katsuki thanks whatever god has chosen to fuck him over for at least being kind enough to not make Izuku cry. It was something Izuku had— mostly— grown out of over the years and it’s the only blessing Katsuki has in this moment because he’s never been good at dealing with anyone who cries, especially Izuku.

“We have?” There’s so much tangible pain in Izuku’s voice that Katsuki immediately reverts back to wanting to punch a hole in the wall.

It’s pretty typically his go-to reaction. It’s a feeling he knows how to handle.

“Yeah. And your ass landed in the hospital leaving me with the job of calling your mom and telling her the bad news.” Katsuki grumbles, because he’ll tell Izuku damn near anything he wants to know, but he won’t tell him about the quirk. He can’t. He can’t even believe it himself, there’s no way in hell he’s going to say it out loud to Izuku. “So thanks for that.”

Izuku doesn’t say anything for a long moment as he considers all of this information. Katsuki knows it’s only a matter of time before he brings the quirk back up, so he needs to get out now. He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking in another deep breath and trying to sort through whatever the hell is going on here. He knows what it all looks like, but he can’t believe it. He won’t.

He spent years being an absolute dick to Izuku and he never properly apologized. He doesn’t deserve Izuku’s friendship and he knows it, so he sure as shit doesn’t deserve his love, leaving aside whether or not he wants it. If there’s one thing Katsuki can say about himself, it’s that he doesn’t take shit he doesn’t deserve. He earns everything.

The only reason he accepted Izuku’s friendship without a formal apology is because he worked hard to stop treating the nerd like shit. He made a point to have his back, to support him, to encourage him. He may not have apologized, but he still put in a lot of work. And even then, he had days where he knew he didn’t deserve Izuku’s friendship, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get rid of it, either. He didn’t want to and there wasn’t a high hope in hell that Izuku would let Katsuki slip through his fingers a second time. He’d said so in no uncertain terms.

Despite Katsuki’s turmoil, Izuku is still being, well, Izuku. He’s smiling a little wistfully down at the blankets, clearly not put out by the entire situation. “I have a hero partner?” He says after a long moment, looking up to meet Katsuki’s gaze with shining eyes, “That’s so cool! I always wanted one of those! Are we any good?”

“You bet your ass we are.” Katsuki replies, smiling a little despite himself. Only Izuku could find learning about his one life exciting. “Number one.”

At that, Izuku’s face absolutely lights up. “Really?”

“Hell yeah.” Katsuki drops his hands down into his lap, suddenly feeling like he has no idea what to do with them. “But I can tell you more about that later. Right now you need to get better.”

He winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth, realizing too belatedly that he brought up Izuku’s condition again and it would no doubt lead to the one question he was trying to avoid.

Sure enough, Izuku jumps at the opportunity. “Right! You still haven’t told me about this quirk. How does it work? What does it do? When does it wear off?”

Part of his curiosity is no doubt in relation to his own condition but the vast majority of it, Katsuki assumes, is because he’s Izuku. Which means that he’s basically a walking encyclopedia for quirks and makes it a point to know anything and everything about every quirk he encounters. There isn’t an ounce of doubt in Katsuki’s mind that he’s going to be asking for a pen and paper at some point and scribbling down everything he’s told, mixing it with his first hand experience to gain a comprehensive understanding. There’s a reason Katsuki calls him a damn nerd.

Just the mention of the quirk has Katsuki’s throat feeling tight so he grapples for an escape, knowing that sooner or later he’ll have to face what’s happening. He’s definitely picking later. “I’ll let the doctor explain it all to you once he checks you out. I’ll go grab him so just hold tight.”

Izuku nods, reclining in his bed comfortably as Katsuki stands stiffly from his seat and exits the room almost mechanically. He catches the doctor in the hallway, barely manages to choke out that Izuku’s awake and asking questions and then he does the one thing he does best when it comes to emotions— runs.

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

“Wait, he’s my boyfriend?”  Izuku asks in disbelief, falling back onto the pillows behind him. “He didn’t tell me that.”

“Well, now, I’m not saying that.” The doctor was smiling at Izuku, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m saying that the quirk made you forget the person you loved the most. What you two are to each other, outside of hero partners, is not known to the public so I honestly have no idea.”

In truth, that makes the most sense. Izuku may not remember the guy who was in his room earlier— the doctor only refers to him by his hero name which helps, but not a ton— but he remembers absolutely everything else as far as he can tell. And he knows that he wouldn’t want that sort of information to go public. He wouldn’t want to put his potential partner in danger, even if they were another pro hero. Even if Izuku knew that they were more than capable of taking care of themselves— and that guy certainly looked and sounded like he could take care of himself.

And honestly, it’s better to find out what they are from Ground Zero— Izuku is left referring to him by his hero name, too, until he can figure out his real name— instead of the doctor anyways. That kind of conversation was no doubt laced with a lot of emotions on a good day, and could only be charged with even more emotions now that Izuku didn’t remember. He hoped that he hadn’t hurt Ground Zero’s feelings, hadn’t in some way made him feel like he wasn’t good enough. Izuku knew that didn’t make sense, but he wouldn’t feel better until he heard Ground Zero say it. So Izuku shelves his personal questions until he gets a chance to meet with him again.

“Right, okay, that’s fair.” Izuku agrees kindly. “So what’s the catch? How do I get my memories back? I can get them back, right?”

Izuku can’t honestly imagine many things worse than forgetting the person he was in love with. He can’t imagine what Ground Zero must be feeling, what he must be thinking. He didn’t come back with the doctor, but Izuku can only assume that he, too, is trying to keep whatever their personal relationship is under wraps and doesn’t want to expose anything, even to the doctor. Izuku appreciates the gesture, and the fact that, at the very least, they’re clearly on the same page about things.

“Yes, you can get them back.” The doctor replies, but then he hesitates for a long moment. His eyes finally drift away from Izuku, looking down at his chart, at the whiteboard on the wall next to his bed, pretty much anywhere but at izuku himself. “It’s just that, ah, you have to fall in love with him again.”

There’s a pause where the doctor is clearly waiting for Izuku to react negatively, but honestly? Izuku can’t see what’s so bad about that. He was in love with Ground Zero before, he can’t imagine it would be hard to fall in love with him again. And they’re hero partners, giving him plenty of time to spend with Ground Zero and to get to know him again. Really, as far as outcomes of quirks that Izuku has been subjected to, this is easily one of the most benign.

Even if falling in love with him again hadn’t been the catch of the quirk, Izuku imagines he would have done it. If he was so in love with Ground Zero that this quirk was able to sink its claws into those feelings and yank them away, he doesn’t know how anyone could expect him to be around Ground Zero and not immediately fall back in love. Izuku doesn’t even think he’s going to have to try, he thinks it’ll likely just happen.

“Okay?” Izuku breaks the silence, the question of why that’s a bad thing clear in his voice.

“Okay.” The doctor replies, clearly relieved. “That’s all the information I have for you. As far as everything else goes, you’re in perfect health. I’ll write a letter to your agency letting them know that you’re fit to return to your work and the rest is up to you.”

Easy enough, honestly. Izuku smiles at him, grateful. “Thank you so much for your help, sir.”

The doctor smiles at him again, scribbling a few things down on his chart before hooking it to the edge of his bed. “Oh,” He says after a moment, reaching into the pocket of his lab coat and fishing something out. “Here’s your phone. Ground Zero left it with me to give back to you.”

Izuku reaches out and takes the phone— completely unscathed somehow, despite the sheer number of times it’s been in battle with him— and he feels a little bit better with it in his grasp. He imagines that his phone is going to provide him a lot of answers and he needs those. Izuku has always felt better with more information and that was a million times more true when that information was directly about his life and his past— and the person he’s in love with.

The doctor nods in response to Izuku’s grateful smile and heads towards the door, pausing before he exits the room completely to turn back and look at Izuku. “And Deku? I promise word of this won’t get out. I’m sure you guys have kept your life private for a reason, and I’ll do everything in my power to help it stay that way.”

That is a really big relief. The last thing Izuku needed was their relationship coming out when he, personally, didn’t remember any of it. If they ever decided to go public, he wanted it to be just that— their decision.  “Thank you,” he says again, with so much gratitude it brings a smile to the doctors face.

Then the doctor does take his leave, promising to have the discharge paperwork handled in a couple hours so that Izuku can go home. Until then, Izuku is left alone with his thoughts and boy, does he have a lot of them.

The first thing Izuku does is move to unlock his phone. He doesn’t even get to put his password in before he sees Ground Zero again. As it turns out, his background is a picture of the two of them, Ground Zero scowling at the camera and Izuku at his side, smiling widely as he leans into him, one hand giving him bunny ears. Immediately, it makes Izuku smile. He spends a long few minutes just looking at the photo, tapping his screen every time it starts to go dark, just examining Ground Zero’s features, the closeness of their bodies, the clear and unadulterated happiness on his own face.

The guy in the room earlier— he seemed so… gruff, maybe. Izuku couldn’t put his finger on it right away, but he seemed like he was rough around the edges. Still, there had been worry in his eyes, so Izuku had no doubt that he had a kind and genuine heart. Izuku could see all of these things reflected in the photo. The way he scowled matched his callous exterior that Izuku had noticed earlier. But he was clearly not pushing Izuku away in the photo, wasn’t leaning away from him or trying to put any space between them. And honestly, if Izuku looked really close, he could see a fond edge to the frown.

He tapped on the screen again, giving him a better view to look at the photo. Ground Zero was handsome, there was no denying that. Sharp jaw, deep eyes and a well defined body. At the very least, Izuku considered himself pretty lucky to have won over the heart of someone so attractive.He flushed a little at his own thought, realizing that it probably only seemed foreign because he couldn’t remember the guy. He’d probably had a million thoughts similar to that in the past and he was pretty certain he’d have thoughts like it again in the future.

Still, his ears burned.

Quickly, Izuku forced himself to move past that train of thought, focusing on the next piece of information he had about the guy: they were hero partners! And childhood friends! It really is so easy for him to believe he was in love with this man. Everything he’s heard about this situation so far sounds exactly like the kind of situation that would lead to a fulfilling romance. He wonders when it happened— which one of them confessed first. He wonders about their first kiss, about the nights they have spent together. Do they live together?

His face flushes with the thoughts, a deep red to match the tips of his ears as he finally unlocks his phone and actually begins to look through it. The first thing he does is look through his text messages. The very top thread in his list is one labeled Kacchan with a picture of Ground Zero next to it. Okay, alright, that was definitely a big step in the right direction. At least he now had something to call him other than his hero name. And, Kacchan… that was clearly a nickname, something that he’d only use if they were close.

Izuku smiled to himself as he opened the thread and scrolled through it. Nothing hugely important inside, mostly discussions about work and details of plans they’d made. No love declarations, nothing particularly mushy. It struck Izuku as a little odd, but he could still believe it. These sorts of things got leaked all the time— it was one of the biggest hazards of being a hero. And if what Kacchan had told him was true, being number one heroes just made them more susceptible to this sort of thing.

And for all he knew, they did live together, so there was no need for romantic things through text messages. If they lived together and were also hero partners, they probably spent all day every day together, leaving them with plenty of time to have those sorts of conversations in person.

While still in the thread, he clicks in the box at the bottom, bringing up the keyboard and firing off a quick text: Are you coming back?

Next, he moves on to his camera roll, not surprised to find it filled to the brim with his friends, Kacchan included. In almost all of the photos, Kacchan is scowling the same as his background photo, but the more Izuku looks at it, the more endearing he finds it. He keeps flipping through photos until he pauses on one, heart stuttering to a stop in his chest. In this photo, Izuku isn’t looking at the camera. The photo is clearly taken by someone else and must have been sent to him, but he can understand immediately why he saved it.

He’s not looking at the camera, his gaze somewhere off to the side. Kacchan is sitting by his side, gaze turned on Izuku, eyes so soft they look like molten lava. The edges of his lips are quirked up in the first smile Izuku has seen on him and the genuine affection is so visible that Izuku can feel it rolling over him in waves just looking at it.

With his heart filled to the brim, Izuku locks his phone, pressing it against his chest tightly, as if he could place that specific photo in his heart forever. The smile on his face is so big, his cheeks nearly hurt. He closes his eyes, feeling a little better. He learned enough from his phone to at least understand that what the doctor and Kacchan had told him were true— not that he doubted either one of them!-- but there are still so many things that he wants to know. So, he gets comfortable in his bed, never letting his phone stray far from his heart, and spends the hours waiting for the discharge paperwork fantasizing about their life and what it’ll be like to fall in love with him again.

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

Katsuki doesn’t even bother knocking. It’s been ages since he felt the need to knock at Eijiro’s place and he isn’t about to start now. He’d sent a quick text to Eijiro on the way just to let him know that he was coming. He hadn’t explained anything, hadn’t told him what happened. He wasn’t honestly sure he was ready to tell him what happened but he needed to tell someone.

He probably should’ve told Inko when he called her back, but he didn’t. He had bitched out and lied to her. Okay, so he’d told her a lot of the truth, actually. He’d just said that it was a quirk that caused random memory loss and nobody was sure exactly how deep it went, but that it should be pretty easy to reverse. So it really wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.

Because the truth— the real truth, not just the truth of Izuku’s condition— was that Katsuki was terrified that Inko would tell him he wasn’t good enough for Izuku. She’d be absolutely correct and he knows that, but he doesn’t think he could handle hearing it from her.

Though, really, he knows she’d never say that to him.

Izuku has always gotten his forgiveness and his kind nature from his mother. She had been more than willing to forgive Katsuki in the same way Izuku had, inviting him over for family dinners and sending him gifts on his birthday. She would never see the bad in him and would never tell him that he didn’t deserve her son, no matter how much it was true. And maybe that’s the thing that scared him most of all. Maybe he was even more afraid of being given a chance and fucking it up, because that’s what he did with most chances he was given.

It takes him a moment to kick off his shoes once he’s inside Eijiro’s apartment, trying to fend off thoughts of Inko, Izuku and what they both think of him. Although he’s about to be bringing that topic right back up. And honestly, he wasn’t going to be successful with his attempts, anyways, and he’s fully aware of that. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to think of anything else for a long time, if ever.

“Hey, bro!” Eijiro greets, raising a hand up in the air. He’s sprawled out on his couch, just enough room for Katsuki to come and join him.

Katsuki stops by the fridge on his way, grabbing a bottle of water before joining Eijiro in the family room. He’s not particularly thirsty but holding the bottle will give him something to do with his hands and a way to delay answering if he really needs to. With a gruff sigh, he flops onto the couch, whacking Eijiro’s feet away so they’re not right next to his face.

Eijiro just laughs, pulling his legs back and propping himself up a little. “What’s up, man? You look stressed,”

“It’s Deku.” Katsuki begins, trying his best to seem composed. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, so he figures it’s probably best to just dive on in. Like ripping off a bandaid— just get it over with.

Eijiro rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “It’s always Izuku.”

Katsuki bites back a snarl, trying to figure out how in the hell he’s supposed to explain any of what happened today to Eijiro. The villain attack— that part will be easy. But everything after that… “He’s in love with me.”

Immediately, Katsuki flinches away from his own words, hand fisting so tightly that the water bottle nearly explodes in his hand. Eijiro stills next to him, his entire body freezing in its place. And then, all at once, a smile spreads out across his lips, turning into a grin that Katsuki has seen far too many times. It’s the kind of grin that’s knowing, the grin he gives when someone else finally finds out the thing he’s known all along.

“He finally told you, huh?” Eijiro asks, and he almost looks proud.

“You fucking knew?” Katsuki explodes, slamming the water bottle down on the table in front of the couch. “You knew and you didn’t ever say anything?”

Immediately, Eijiro is holding his hands up in front of him in surrender, but he’s still smiling and clearly not even the least bit bothered by Katsuki’s outburst. “I assumed. I mean, dude, come on. It’s pretty obvious. He’s been in love with you since we were in school. Probably even longer.”

Katsuki is fuming, and he thinks smoke might literally be coming out of his ears. What in the actual fuck. There is no way that Izuku has been in love with him since high school and definitely no chance he was in love with Katsuki before that. They weren’t even that close for a large part of that time. There’s absolutely no way— the idea is just asinine— Katsuki doesn’t even know how to express how utterly stupid Eijiro sounds.

“That’s such shit.” Katsuki spits, turning his gaze away. Eijiro’s smile has turned into more of a shit eating grin as he watches Katsuki’s reaction to the news.

“Whatever. So how did he tell you?” He asks. When Katsuki bristles and doesn’t respond right away, Eijiro nudges him with his foot, earning a wicked slap to the ankle.

“He didn’t tell me, that’s half the fucking problem!” Katsuki finally says, grabbing a pillow and using it to pin Eijiro’s feet to the couch. “He got hit with a fucking quirk that made him forget the person he loved the most.”

It doesn’t take more than half a second for the information to click into Eijiro’s mind. Katsuki can see the exact moment he registers what he’s being told and then he’s just staring at Katsuki in disbelief instead of anything else. “He forgot you?”

This time, when Katsuki responds, it’s not angry or bitter or any of the usual scathing things. If anything, it’s dejected and a little bit broken. “Didn’t have a fucking clue who I was.”

Eijiro sits up properly finally, scooting so he can bump his shoulder with Katsuki’s, his tone softening to match the same emotions. “Well, this is a good thing, isn’t it? That he loves you?”

“Why the hell would that be a good thing?” Katsuki asks, but he still can’t put any conviction behind it,

“C’mon, bro.” Eijiro nudges him again. “I know you don’t want to admit it but you’ve also been in love with him since high school. Maybe you guys can finally make it work.”

No, not even to Eijiro who is, aside from Izuku, Katsuki’s closest person will he admit that he has feelings for Izuku. He absolutely will not say that he’s been in love with him since high school, that he was probably in love with him in middle school too but his habit of picking on Izuku for being quirkless was too ingrained to stop. He won’t say that he was probably in love with Izuku in middle school but mad at himself for treating him like such shit for so long that he denied and repressed those feelings and it only led him to treating Izuku worse. He will not say any of those things, not even when Eijiro is looking at him with soft eyes that clearly already know all of these things, even if Katsuki has literally never put words to them before.

“Fuck off.” Katsuki replies instead of acknowledging anything Eijiro said. His tone is defeated and he’s staring down into his lap.

With a sigh, Eijiro moves on to the next logical question and Katsuki honestly isn’t really glad about that. “Can he get his memories back? Does he remember everything else?”

“He remembers everything ‘cept me.” Katsuki hates the way the words hurt, hates how upset he is that he’s no longer in Izuku’s mind. He hates the way the words taste bitter on his tongue as he spits them out like venom. “And there’s one way to get his memories back.”

“But?” Eijiro prompts when he doesn’t immediately continue.

“But it’s fucking ridiculous.” Katsuki grabs the water bottle again, snapping the lid off and bringing it up to his mouth to take a drink. He’s still not thirsty but he really doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. He’s quickly regretting ever bringing it up. Eijiro watches him the entire time, clearly aware of what he’s trying to do and determined to wait him out. Once Katsuki chugs half of the bottle and Eijiro is still waiting for an answer, he lets out a growl and finally just puts it out there. “He has to fall in love with me again.”

He expects Eijiro to burst out in delighted laughter and is surprised when he remains somber, eyebrows drawn together as he studies Katsuki’s expression. “This quirk is literally forcing you to shoot your shot.”

“I don’t want to fucking shoot it, though.” Katsuki grimaces, realizing too late that it hints towards some emotions that he’s denying.

Eijiro kindly pretends he didn't hear it. “You don’t want him to keep forgetting you, either.”

No, Katsuki doesn’t want that. He doesn’t think he’d be able to stand that. After everything he’s gone through in his life, his anchor is Izuku and the way he says Kacchan so brightly. He doesn’t know how to face a day without Izuku by his side. Seriously, he’s never had to do it. Even in the depths of his worst days, Izuku didn’t give up on him.

Katsuki knows that the least he can do— the literal bare minimum— is to refuse to give up on Izuku now. But not giving up on Izuku comes at such a strange price.

“You’ve met the guy, right?” Katsuki says instead. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability and he already hates it, already feels uncomfortable, like his skin is crawling and he needs to get out before he gets in deeper. “He’s actual fucking sunshine. Have you ever seen him do a mean thing? To anyone? He is kind and he cares.” Eijiro is nodding along, clearly having no idea where Katsuki is headed with this but agreeing with his assessment of Izuku all the same. “And have you ever seen me be nice to somebody? We don’t match. I would just make him miserable.”

“What are you suggesting?” There’s a dangerous edge to Eijiro’s voice.

Katsuki crushes the water bottle in his hand. “Maybe he’d be fucking better off without me. Maybe I’d be doing him a favor—”

A pillow makes contact with his face before he can get any further into his idea. Immediately he’s ripping the pillow away from Eijiro, whirling on him with wild eyes. He’s about half a second away from blowing Eijiro to the moon, palms feeling hot with the desire to set off some explosions when Eijiro replaces the pillow with his own hand and smacks Katsuki upside the head.

“You’re an absolute idiot.” He says sternly, completely unflinching in the face of Katsuki’s burning anger. “Besides the fact that it doesn’t make sense logistically, that’s an absolutely terrible idea. Do you really think that’s what Izuku would want? After all those years, you really think he’d want to forget you?”

“It’s not always about what he wants!” Katsuki slams the pillow down on the couch between them before launching to his feet and taking angry laps around the room, clenching and unclenching his fists as he goes. “I know I don’t have a habit of looking out for people, okay? I fucking know. But try and tell me this wouldn’t be better for him! Try and tell me his life wouldn’t be better if I wasn’t fucking in it.”

“Okay,” Eijiro says and he’s clearly getting riled up, too. It’s a rare sight for Katsuki because Eijiro is typically very calm and the first to bring someone to a peaceful place. “I’ll be happy to tell you. Izuku’s life wouldn’t be better if you weren’t in it. I mean, seriously? Are you fucking stupid?”

And that is even rarer. Eijiro certainly never balks when Katsuki swears, but he rarely does it himself. “Excuse me?”

“Listen, man. I get that you feel like shit for how you treated him in the past. I get that you’re scared—” Katsuki opens his mouth to protest vehemently but shuts it the moment Eijiro’s angry gaze settles on him. “But he’s in love with you. You know him better than anybody else, do you really think it would be better for him to give that up? If you want to do right by him, get your head out of your ass, straighten your spine and be a man. Own up to your feelings and try to make it work.”

The outburst stopped Katsuki dead in his tracks and he stands completely still, staring almost blankly at Eijiro. He’s never had anyone talk to him like that. All of the anger deflates out of him at once and he sinks to a crouch in the middle of the room. He knows Eijiro is right— to do right by Izuku he needs to stop beating around the bush. After he’d made the first steps all those years ago, they’d managed to get closer. Maybe it was time for the next step.

“I don’t deserve him.” Katsuki is outright broken now, Eijiro’s verbal beatdown landing more than a few winning blows.

“That’s his choice to make, not yours.” Eijiro stands and crosses the room, crouching down, too, and placing a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “And you have to let him make that choice. You can’t make it for him.”

“When the fuck did you get wise?” Katsuki barks and Eijiro laughs, all of his rage from earlier completely gone. “I didn’t come here for a goddamn therapy session.”

“Promise me you’ll talk to him? Talk to him, not yell at him, belittle him and then try and push him away.” Eijiro squeezes Katsuki’s shoulder fondly as he says it.

It takes a moment for Katsuki to respond, too busy thinking about how well Eijiro knows him, about how badly Eijiro just wants the best for him. He’s grateful for his friendship and makes a mental note to tell him so one day. “Yeah, yeah, I fucking promise or whatever.”

“Great.” Eijiro stands back up, groaning and stretching out his legs. “Now quit your moping, we’re ordering pizza.”

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

It’s barely even a few hours later when the doctor comes back in his room, flanked by two of Izuku’s closest friends, discharge paperwork in hand. He talks to Izuku briefly again, reminding him that there isn’t anything else wrong with his health but nobody is sure if the quirk could potentially have other side effects so he needs to keep a careful eye on himself while he navigates whatever he chooses to do next. Izuku understands, stating as much, and thanks the doctor for all of his help. With a smile and a pat on the shoulder, he takes his leave and suddenly it’s just Izuku, Ochako and Tenya in the room.

“Why does it seem like you end up in the hospital once a week?” Ochako says, taking his paperwork from his hands so that he can slip his shoes on easier.

“It’s not that often.” Izuku defends, although it really does feel that way some days.

Call it an occupational hazard.

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” Tenya says, clapping him on the shoulder once he’s upright. “And I’m glad the doctor came to discharge you because I’m starving.”

“Yes!” Ochako agrees immediately, “Lunch before we take you home! We haven’t seen you in forever!”

The interesting thing that Izuku has noticed in the last few hours is that it feels like parts of his memory are missing entirely. He can only assume that those chunks of time were times when he was with Kacchan and losing the memories of him made Izuku lose the memories of that entire time. It’s still a strange sensation though, to feel like he has so many large holes in his memory.

Despite that, though, he knows it really hasn’t been that long since he’s seen Ochako and Tenya. He can remember seeing them about two weeks ago when they’d come over to his apartment for movie night. Which raises the question of where Kacchan was during that time. Or maybe they didn’t live together, Izuku still wasn’t sure.

That aside, he’s not going to disagree with his friends. “Lunch sounds great.”

Technically it’s a little late for lunch, but it’s still too early for dinner. It’s the middle of the afternoon and the sun is beating down on them, not a single cloud in the sky. Izuku falls into step with his friends as they lead him down the street and towards a new cafe that Ochako had heard only good things about. Ochako and Tenya were in street clothes, this being their day off apparently, but Izuku was still in his hero uniform. It got him a lot of smiles and friendly waves on the street that he willingly returned.

“Am I really number one?” He asks after a group of girls ask to take their picture with him. “Like, actually?”

“I know, it’s hard to believe,” Ochako teases, nudging him playfully. “Especially since you’ve got to make up for Katsuki and his bad attitude.”

She’s obviously kidding— it’s clear in the fond way she says it— but it still gives Izuku a moment of pause. His brain’s immediate response is to snag on the name Katsuki and to immediately see how he shortened that to Kacchan. Alright, he tells himself, another step in the right direction. He now actually knows the guy's name. Or most of it, anyways. The next moment, though, he’s thinking about the bad attitude she mentioned. It’s probably just that callous exterior. She said it with enough kindness that Izuku can tell immediately that she doesn’t actually think he has a bad attitude, or at least, it’s not enough to sour her image of him.

“He’s not that bad.” Izuku says despite himself, realizing that he doesn’t really know Katsuki well enough anymore to be making such a statement. Still, it rings true in his head and even though he doesn’t know Katsuki, he knows he’s right. He wouldn’t fall in love with someone who was awful.

“To you.” Tenya replies as they finally make it to the cafe. Tenya holds the door for the other two of them, trailing in after Izuku and adding. “He has a soft spot for you now.”

That brings a smile to Izuku’s face as he waits for the hostess to direct them to a table. The move towards their designated table in a single file line so as not to leave room for other patrons to pass them by. They end up in a booth, Ochako and Tenya taking one side and leaving Izuku to have the entire other half to himself.

“He’s always had a soft spot for you,” Ochako comments as if their conversation hadn’t been put on pause during the walk to their table. “He’s just better at actually showing it now.”

“Really?” Izuku wishes he could remember it. He wishes so badly to remember what it was like, when things changed. He could only assume that he was elated when the shift began and this soft spot started to become more obvious. “When did that change?”

Tenya gets halfway through his sentence before Ochako cuts him off. “Why, can’t you see—”

“--wait.” She is leaning forward onto the table the tiniest bit, palms flat against the top of it as she scrutinizes Izuku’s face. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I want to know?” Izuku replies first before realizing that he hasn’t told them anything about the quirk that was discharged against him so they don’t have the context to understand. “Oh.” He says next, shaking his head. He glances around quickly to make sure nobody is eavesdropping on their conversation before lowering his voice a little to explain. “Sorry, right, you don’t have all the info. That quirk that landed me in the hospital? It made me forget the person I loved the most. Everything about them. So I don’t remember anything you guys are talking about right now.”

There’s a long moment where Tenya and Ochako exchange a very pointed look. Finally, Ochako turns back to him, her face a large grin. “You forgot Katsuki?”

“Yeah?” Izuku can feel a knot forming in his stomach at her expression. “Is that— should I not have? Is that weird?”

“No,” Tenya replies instantly, “It’s not weird.”

It makes Izuku feel better, but only marginally.

“Were we—” he pauses, taking a deep breath. His heart is fluttering in his throat and he can feel it all the way down to his fingertips. He doesn’t want to ask the question but he supposes it’s less mortifying to ask them and know than to have to face Katsuki without the knowledge. “Were we not dating?”

“No,” Ochako says kindly before quickly adding, “But I’m not surprised to hear it was Katsuki you forgot! You guys are incredibly close and we’ve all been waiting for something to happen between you for awhile.”

That makes Izuku feel more than marginally better. He could work with that. Maybe they hadn’t gotten to officially dating, but they were obviously close and on those tracks. “Why aren’t we dating then?”

“That is something you have to ask him.” Ochako begins, the rest of her thoughts cut off by the waitress showing up to take their order.

Izuku scrambles, having not actually looked at the menu yet. Ochako and Tenya both order as Izuku quickly scans the options, picking the first thing that sounds good and thanking the waitress as she takes the menu from his hands after he’s ordered. She promises to bring them back their drinks right away, so the lull remains in their conversation until she returns with three glasses of water in hand, doling them out and leaving a pile of straws in the middle of the table.

“So,” Izuku fiddles with his straw wrapper, trying to put his thoughts together. Talking to Ochako and Tenya is probably the safest place he can get information. They would never lie to him, but they’d also never judge him. And, being his two closest friends— besides Katsuki, as he understood it— they would have nearly all the information he needed. “We’re hero partners.” Ochako nods. “And best friends?” She rolls her eyes but nods again. “We’ve known each other our whole lives, he said—”

“Wait, you’ve seen him since this happened?” Tenya cuts in, eyes growing wide behind his glasses.

“Yeah? He was in my hospital room when I woke up. Doctor said he’s the one who carried me to the hospital.” It’s increasingly weird to have to learn about his own life from someone else. But on top of that, it’s unnerving to have them think things he never even questioned are surprising. He feels like he has absolutely no semblance of control over his life at the moment and it’s not a great feeling.

“It does make sense.” Tenya agrees quietly. “I’m sure you were on the scene together. And it’s not surprising that he’d take you himself instead of waiting for an ambulance.”

“But?” Izuku isn’t honestly sure he wants to know what is going to come next.

Ochako glances at Tenya before taking over and answering his question. “But, as far as we know, you’ve never told him that you love him.”

Yeah, Izuku definitely did not want to know that. Just great, he thinks bitterly, he doesn’t even get to confess his own feelings. Katsuki had to learn about them from a quirk. Talk about the worst way to ever get confessed to.

“Well that explains why he isn’t answering my texts.” Izuku replies dejectedly, leaning back in his chair with a groan.

Both of his friends are looking at him sympathetically, but it doesn’t do anything to change what a terrible situation this has suddenly become. He’d spent all those hours in the hospital coming up with such wonderful situations where they were happy together and now they were being ripped out of his hands and smashed to bits at his feet. How was he supposed to face Katsuki now? Not only did he still not really know anything about the guy, but his secret feelings had been outed.

Maybe he could just avoid him.

No. He mentally smacked himself as soon as the thought came. They were hero partners and best friends, he couldn’t do that to Katsuki. On top of that, he couldn’t get his memories back that way. Sure, it would be awkward to fall in love with Katsuki (again) if Katsuki didn’t feel the same way which was now a very real possibility, but Izuku couldn’t go on without at least trying to get his memories back. And yeah, Ochako had said that they were all waiting for something to happen between them which boded well on his behalf, but wasn’t solid proof of anything. For all he knew, Katsuki was going to push him away, upset with his feelings, and Izuku wouldn’t have the choice but to say goodbye to his memories of him permanently.

“Hey,” Ochako reaches across the booth and snags one of Izuku’s hands in her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. He’s not going to shut you out completely. And if he tries to, I’ll kick his ass.”

Tenya chuckles next to her. “That’s a fight I’d love to see.”

With another roll of the eyes, Ochako wedges her elbow between Tenya’s ribs, causing him to flinch away, swatting at her arm. Izuku lets out a shuddering breath, knowing that stressing about it right now won’t do any good. He can’t make any assumptions until he at least gets a chance to talk to Katsuki. Until then, he resolves himself to enjoying his friend’s presence, eating the delicious food that is brought to their table and just waiting.

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

It’s damn near the middle of the night by the time Katsuki finally stumbles back to his apartment, tired and in the midst of an emotional torrent. At some point in the evening, Ashido had showed up, kicking Katsuki off of the couch and onto the chair that sat next to it. Katsuki had gone willingly, but he’d grumbled the whole way. It had taken Eijiro all of two seconds after that to spill Katsuki’s entire dilemma to her and Katsuki could still hear her squeals, even as he flipped on the lights to his very empty apartment.

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket as he kicks his shoes off and it takes everything in him to suppress a groan. The damn thing has been going off all day and he knows that he’s being shitty by ignoring it, but he’s just not ready to face anything yet.

Ashido had been quick to jump on Eijiro’s side, threatening Katsuki with certain death if he dared try to push Izuku away. Katsuki wasn’t afraid of anyone, but if there was one person he didn’t want to square up against, it’d be her. He’d sneered at her in response, shoving a pillow in her face and hoping that his face wasn’t flushed.

A second vibration of his phone draws Katsuki back out of his thoughts and he growls as he finally pulls his phone out. His screen is littered with notifications, most of them text messages. He sees Eijiro and Ashido’s group text in there, some from Ochako and even a few from Tenya, which is surprising. The least surprising though, are the series of texts— including the two newest ones— that are from Dumb Deku.

With a heavy sigh, Katsuki unlocks his phone, ignoring the texts from everyone except Izuku. He can already imagine pretty clearly the kind of threats he’ll find in all of them if he’s not kind to Izuku, so he doesn't waste his time reading them.

Are you coming back?

Ochako and Tenya came to get me from the hospital, you don’t have to worry about it.

Those two make Katsuki’s gut clench as he is forced to face what a dick he was to leave Izuku at the hospital alone. Leave it to Izuku’s other friends to clean up his mess. They’d done that for him back in high school, too, constantly trailing Izuku to pick up the broken pieces that were left behind when Katsuki tore him to shreds time and time again. Their forgiveness had been harder to earn than either Izuku’s or Inko’s, but he had eventually done so. He can only assume they’re less than thrilled to see him slipping back into his old ways though.

It’s okay, though!! Don’t worry about it!! I’m sure you were busy!

Classic Izuku, giving Katsuki an out he doesn’t deserve and refusing to blame him for anything. Katsuki’s heart feels heavy in his chest as he keeps reading, only three texts left.

I hope we get a chance to talk soon.

And then, the two he’d just sent.

I hope you had a good day.

Goodnight, Kacchan.

The very first thing Katsuki wants to do is blow his phone through the fucking roof. Even when Izuku can’t remember him, he’s being unfailingly kind and trying his best to meet Katsuki in the middle. It was this exact thing that made it impossible for him to shake Izuku— impossible for him to want to shake Izuku, even if he hadn’t said it back then.

One truth that Katsuki will admit is that he never honestly wanted to be rid of Izuku. Even at his worst in middle school, he knew that he’d never forgive himself for actually pushing Izuku away. He always worried that he’d gone too far, that it was finally the time that Izuku would disappear for good. For a while, he’d thought that he really had succeeded at scaring him away. And then that slime villain had gotten hold of him and Izuku hadn’t even thought before jumping in to try and save him.

Sometimes, Katsuki still played that memory in his mind, thinking back to how frantic Izuku had been, fighting desperately for him despite the tears streaming down his face. Katsuki had yelled at him, even then, but Izuku hadn’t relented. That was probably the first time Katsuki first thought that he owed it to Izuku to try and change. It was still a long time before he actually put in that effort, but from that moment on it was in the back of his mind. It would nag at him when he’d start to say something scathing, catching the words before they left his mouth, forcing him to just turn the other cheek and walk away instead.

And it was probably that change that encouraged Izuku.

Leaning into the wall next to his door, Katsuki types out a text of his own.

What are you still doing up, Deku?

He doesn’t even have a chance to lock his phone before he sees the bubble pop up to indicate that Izuku is typing back to him. In truth, Izuku has every right to make some scalding remark about how Katsuki had been ignoring him all day, leaving him to cope with this all on his own. To be fair, even though it’s shitty, Katsuki knows that this has to be harder for Izuku than for him. He’s not the one with all of his memories gone.

In fact, it’s precisely because he still has all the goddamn memories that he’s suffering so much in response to this.

Can’t sleep. Have a lot on my mind.

With another bone deep sigh, Katsuki pinches the bridge of his nose again. He can’t deal with this shit. Old him would’ve blown Izuku off, refusing to talk about it. But if Izuku had sent him this text yesterday, before this happened, Katsuki knows he wouldn’t have even responded. He would’ve tucked his phone away, slipped his shoes back on and headed straight over to Izuku’s apartment. He would’ve gotten there to find out that the door was already unlocked, that Izuku would have been expecting for him to show up.

Because all of their fucking lives they’d been orbitting each other like that. One pushing and the other pulling, constantly together, never apart. It was always the two of them.

Want to talk about it?

He hesitates for only a moment before he hits send. He hovers in his entry way as he waits for the response that he knows will still be just as quick. Sure enough, a second later, he sees the new message appear on his screen.

Not over text.

Well, fuck. He’s absolutely not ready to have this conversation with Izuku— he’s not ever going to be completely ready but he’s not even mentally prepared for it right now— but he knows he can’t just leave him like he did at the hospital. The friendship that they’ve developed, their partnership as heroes, and his unnamed place in Katsuki’s heart won’t allow that. So Katsuki slides his shoes back on, scrubbing a hand over his hair in frustration and typing as he opens his door.

Open up. I’ll be there in ten.

Truthfully, he has the spare key to Izuku’s apartment. It’s on his key ring, right next to the key to his own apartment and his locker at work. He rarely uses it, though, because Izuku always leaves the door open for him. He could use it now, but he doesn’t want to freak Izuku out. He has no idea what information Ochako and Tenya had given him, what pieces his brilliant brain had put together. He had no fucking clue what the picture looked like in Izuku’s mind and he hated how terrified it made him feel.

The walk to Izuku’s place wasn’t ten minutes, but the extra time was for Katsuki to stop at the convenience store on the corner and grab his favorite snacks. He fucking hated himself the entire time he was plucking them off the shelf. How in the hell did he get to know Izuku this well and not think anything of it?

He knows the answer to that, though. It’s not that he never thought about it, never tried to read into his own feelings and put names to them, but rather that he refused to do exactly that. Every time the question arose in his mind, he squashed it vehemently. Every time he caught himself thinking about how fucking gorgeous Izuku was, he mentally berated himself until the thoughts were gone. So it wasn’t that he couldn’t figure it out, but that he didn’t want to.

And now his feelings have been shoved in his face plain as day and he has no idea what the hell to do with them. How is he supposed to acknowledge something he’s been purposefully ignoring for so many years?

With the bag of items firmly in his hand, Katsuki steels his will as much as he possibly can and finishes the walk to Izuku’s. He finds the door unlocked, just like he has so many times before, and takes a deep breath in through his nose before entering. He kicks his shoes off and heads straight into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and depositing a few of the extra drinks inside.

“Kacchan?” He hears from the other room and it sounds so normal to him that it takes Katsuki’s brain about five seconds to catch up and realize that Izuku shouldn’t know that nickname for him anymore.

His heart aches so deeply that it feels like it’s pulling itself apart in his chest. “Who told you about that nickname?”

As he says it, he realizes that Izuku had used it in a text message, too. He hadn’t even noticed, he was so used to seeing and hearing that. There were so many times that the nickname had been his lifeline. He’d heard Izuku call it in the middle of a battle to warn him of danger, he’d heard him say it, ragged and broken, as he feared that he’d lost Katsuki. But he’d also heard it soft and tender, with Izuku on the brink of falling asleep, and brighter than the morning sunshine when Izuku greeted him first thing in the morning.

“Oh,” Izuku crosses into the kitchen finally. He’s in pajamas, hair messy as if he’d tried to sleep but failed. “That’s the name I have you under in my phone. I hope that’s okay?”

Katsuki snorts. Of course he’d put him in his phone that way. “ S’fine.”

It’s more than fine, actually. It’s both a comfort and an assault to Katsuki’s heart, but he can handle that. It reminds him that Izuku isn’t a stranger to him, even if he’s been caught entirely off guard by Izuku’s feelings and forced to see him in a new light.

“I appreciate you coming.” Izuku doesn’t come any further into the room and it’s very easy to tell just how nervous he is. It’s rolling off of him in waves, doing it’s best to knock Katsuki off of his feet.

“Here,” Katsuki extends one of the drinks in his hands to Izuku, forcing the man to come further into the room to take it from him. And no, there’s definitely not a feeling of electricity skipping across his fingers where Izuku’s hand brushes his own.

Izuku takes the drink and retreats back to the doorway, clutching it close to his chest. “This is one of my favorites!”

Katsuki knows, that’s why he bought the damn thing. It’s the drink that Izuku loves but won’t let himself drink unless he’s had a bad day. Normally, Katsuki wouldn’t give him something with caffeine in the middle of the night but these are special circumstances. Plus, Izuku had already said that he couldn’t sleep.

“Listen,” Katsuki doesn’t turn to look at Izuku as he talks. He methodically takes the snacks out of the bag, piling them on the counter. His heart is thumping painfully against his ribs, each one like the beat of a drum. Instinctively, he wants to run again, to get away from this, but he had promised Eijiro that he wouldn’t do that. At some point, enough had to be enough. “I know we have a lot to talk about and that’s— fine.” It hurts, every word hurts. “We can start it right now, if that’s what you need. But can we at least save the thick of it for tomorrow after the press conference?”

Fucking excellent, Katsuki tells himself sarcastically, he’s already trying to run away again.

“Press conference?” Izuku echoes, popping the lid of his drink.

“You’re not going.” It’s a finality. Katsuki won’t allow Izuku to attend the press conference. They have shit they need to work out on their own and he will not let it leak to the media. “I’ll handle it myself.”

“Do you always insist on doing everything alone?” Izuku sips from his drink. Katsuki can feel the weight of his gaze burning a hole between his shoulders but he doesn’t succumb to it. “Is it really that hard for you to let someone in?”

A bitter laugh, a burning in Katsuki’s chest. His heart is on fire and it’s burning him down to ashes. “So you haven’t really forgotten me then, eh?”

That seems to startle Izuku. Katsuki still isn’t looking at him, hands pressed against the cool countertop, but he hears Izuku shift and he knows that he’s trying to figure out how to word his thoughts. He knows Izuku so goddamn well that he can tell what he’s doing without even looking at him. It makes a sick feeling fill Katsuki’s gut.

“I don’t think it’s that.” Izuku says after a moment of silence. “I think I’m just… good at reading you.”

Yeah, that’s for damn sure. “You’ve been good at that since we were kids. It’s annoying as fuck.”

Izuku huffs out a laugh and it stokes the fire that’s currently consuming Katsuki. He loves Izuku’s laugh. It’s bright and warm and full of so much happiness. It’s contagious— and that’s coming from someone who doesn’t laugh. Katsuki can feel the tension in his shoulders, can feel the ache up his neck and into the base of his skull. He knows he’s pressing all of his weight into the counter, knows that he’s seconds away from losing his cool.

He just has no idea what he’s going to do when he loses it. He suspects, for once, it’s not blasting Izuku off the face of the earth.

“And yet,” Izuku finally moves a little bit further into the room. Katsuki can feel his presence approaching. “Here you are, at one in the morning, coming to take care of me because I couldn’t sleep.”

“If you’ve got something to say,” Katsuki tries to snarl, to bite, to put anything behind his words. They come out breathless. “Spit it the fuck out.”

He hears Izuku take the next step as much as he feels it. And then he takes another, and another. From where Katsuki is glaring down at his feet, he can see Izuku’s shadow growing larger, engulfing his own. And then there’s a hand on his shoulder, tripling the tension that Katsuki feels. All of the fire that’s been enveloping him shoots to the spot where Izuku is touching, the concentration of it so intense it’s almost unbearable. Katsuki knows immediately that he never wants it to stop.

“I think you care about me.” Izuku whispers, his breath a warm ghost across the back of Katsuki’s neck. What small grasp Katsuki had on his self control was slipping by the second. “I know I’m your best friend and your partner, I get that. But I think you care about me even more than that and you just don’t want to admit it.”

Slowly, so fucking slowly it hurts, Katsuki spins in his spot until he’s facing Izuku. Izuku moves his hand from Katsuki’s shoulder as he begins to move and it hangs in the air between them as Katsuki finally meets his eyes. His breathing is ragged, like he just got out of a fight. His lungs ache with each breath he takes in. Izuku is staring up at him with a determination that Katsuki knows well. It’s an expression of no apologies, an expression that says he knows the potential consequences for his actions but he’s not going to back down.

It’s the expression he gave Katsuki over and over again, year after year when he refused to give up on him or let him go.

“And what makes you think that’s the case?” The tension between them is so thick that it could be cut with a knife. There’s a sizzle in the air between them and Katsuki thinks he could probably blow the whole place to bits with just a small spark.

Those goddamn green eyes have always been a weak point for Katsuki. They’re so expressive, full of so much emotion. To meet Izuku’s gaze was to see the depths of his heart, the inner workings of his mind and the colors of his soul all at once. It was impossible not to crumble under the weight of his gaze on a good day, and today wasn’t a good day.

Today Katsuki had not only been forced to confront his own feelings— a battle he was still, currently, in the midst of— but he’d also been brought face-to-face with Izuku’s. Today wasn’t the kind of day where he could hold strong under those eyes. Today was the day where Izuku chipped his way past the final of Katsuki’s defenses, pushing the walls to the ground and tearing open the locked doors. Today was the day where everything collapsed and all that was left was for Katsuki to decide how to— or even if he wanted to— rebuild it.

“Like I said,” Izuku’s hand stretches a little closer to him, then. It doesn’t touch him, but it’s there, almost like he’s asking permission. His tone is still a quiet whisper that's charged with emotions and Katsuki feels the exact moment his final wall turns to dust and blows away in the wind. “I’m just really good at understanding you.”

Without even thinking first, Katsuki reaches up to grab that hand hanging in the air between them, yanking Izuku forwards until he’s flush against Katsuki’s chest, head tilted up so he could still read Katsuki’s expression. His lips were parted in surprise, his other hand thrown out to the side to avoid spilling his drink. But still, despite it all, despite the fact that he doesn’t remember Katsuki, that whatever feelings he did have are temporarily erased, his eyes are smiling as he waits for Katsuki to do whatever it is he’s going to do.

And god damn it all, Katsuki wants to kiss him.

It’s a deep and immediate want, reaching all the way to his bones, flooding through his veins. He wants to kiss that look right off the damn nerd’s face and then kiss him again just for good measure. He wants it so badly that it physically aches in his chest, but he can’t do this.

This isn’t the time for something like that. They still need to talk, he needs to give Izuku a chance to regain his own feelings. If— when— he kisses Izuku, it’s going to be the Izuku that’s actually in love with him. It doesn’t matter that this one staring up at him looks like the Izuku he knows, it doesn’t matter that he has the same warm eyes and the same kind smile. It isn’t the Izuku he’s known for all these years and he refuses to do anything until he has that Izuku back.

With a low groan, Katsuki wraps his free arm around Izuku, leaning down to bury his face in a sea of unruly green. Izuku lets out a content noise, setting his drink down on the counter behind Katsuki before wrapping his arm back around Katsuki and fisting it in his shirt at the small of his back.

The physical ache is still there, the burn still smoldering in his lungs. This isn’t what he wants, but it’s more than he’s ever let himself have and for now, it’s enough.

[glitxhwayventeen]

Ghostin

Seungkwan: Chapter 3 (Never Enough)

Characters: Seungkwan x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst (a shit ton of sadness honestly), semi-unrequited love, death mentions, mental illness (depression), runaway mates, family fighting, implied violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: Okay so this chapter is a bit shorter than I had anticipated, but please bare with me. The next one for him should get pretty intense and I think it’ll be worth it. But this chapter had to slow it down a bit for explanation purposes. And I’m sorry for all the Angst recently, I’m better at writing that than I am fluff or smut. But I swear, Hansol and Chan’s chapters won’t be as edgy.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀

Ghostin Master List

Chapter 3: Never Enough

It had been almost a week since you left. Seungkwan barely left his room. He hardly ate. He hardly slept. Hell, he hardly even cried anymore. He just stared up blankly at his ceiling. He was just doing the absolute bare minimum to stay alive for his pack, and that’s mostly because you asked him to. But he didn’t want to continue his life without you, even if you didn’t love him, he still loved you. You were everything to him. Living a life without you wasn’t a life Seungkwan thought was worth living.

At this point, anytime he slept and dreamed, it was of you. Whether it be some small memory he had with you, or just a random nightmare that terrified him to his core, it was always you. It killed him to see you without ACTUALLY seeing you, so he tried not to sleep much. Of course, he still did. He had to, and when he did, he always dreamt of you. And it seemed he wasn’t the only one who had that problem now…

Flashback

“How could you?!? How could you make her leave?!?” Seungkwan screamed at the top of his lungs at the older wolf, having to be held back by his other brothers so he wouldn’t lunge at him after he had spent hours outside looking for you.

He came home dirty, covered from head to toe in twigs, leaves, mud, and dirty. He tried to track you, he really did. But you were just… gone. He tried to follow the pull, but it always lead him back home, the last place he had seen you. He knew you must’ve used your powers or some sort of spell to mislead his instincts. You didn’t want him to find you, you left for his own good, and it broke him fragile little heart.

“Seungkwan… I’m sorry. I didn’t think- I didn’t think she’d actually leave you I-” Jihoon tried, still at a loss for words from the events that happened only hours ago.

“You fucking asshole!! I hate you! I HATE YOU!” Seungkwan cried out with mud streaking his face, trying to tear himself out of the other pack members grips to get to him, failing miserably due to his lack of strength.

“I HATE YOU! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING! I FUCKING HATE YOU!!” He sobbed into the closest members shoulder, finally letting himself fall to the floor in agony.

“I hate you… I hate you… How could you… I hate you…” he continued to mumble as Soonyoung started to comfort the younger wolf, rubbing his back softly while whispering words of encouragement to him.

Jihoon couldn’t believe what had happened. You actually left his brother to fend for himself. Seungkwan was too devastated to even speak coherently. You hadn’t actually denied him, you wanted to be sure he still had a chance at living and denying him would’ve killed him, but you could make sure he didn’t find you. And that’s apparently what you had done. You made true to your promise of leaving Seungkwan so that he could be happy. He could never blame you for it, he loved you, you were his mate after all. So that only left one other person he could blame it on…

“Jihoon… you fucking prick… I fucking hate you… I fucking HATE you…” Seungkwan whimpered out in the direction of the older wolf, still laying on the floor with his brothers surrounding him to be sure he didn’t hurt himself.

“Okay that’s enough. I think Seungkwan needs to go and rest. Hansol, you and Seokmin will be in charge of him. Take him up to his room and stay with him. He’s had a long day and- and he just really looks like he needs to sleep.” Jeonghan decided as the one currently in charge.

As one of the Alphas, it was his job to remain impartial and make sure everything was running smoothly. Usually, it was Seungcheol’s job as he was physically the oldest, but he went out with a few of the others to try and find you. So it was left to Jeonghan to take care of the remaining pack. But seeing his brother so broken and hurt from losing his mate tore at his own heartstrings. He decided it was best he be kept in his room under supervision to be sure he didn’t hurt himself.

“And YOU!” Jeonghan quickly turned and pointed to Jihoon, who was standing with wide eyes, clearly caught off guard by the sudden demeanor change in the older wolf.

“You come with me NOW!” He barked, walking to the back patio with the smaller boy following his exit.

“What the actual HELL were you thinking?!?” Jeonghan demanded, his eyes already starting to shift to red as he angrily stared his baby brother down.

“I- I don’t know. I just wanted her to treat him better. We all did. But she just- she just left…” Jihoon stuttered, not quite used to being yelled at by anyone.

He generally kept to himself and out of trouble. But this time, he was the direct cause of it. There was no denying it. And he had no fucking way to fix it. His brother was gonna hate him forever and NEVER forgive him. Even if he managed to find a way to get you back to him, he fucked up too badly.

“You damn well KNOW it wasn’t your place to say anything. It wasn’t YOUR mate with the problem so you shouldn’t have had a fucking say. And now look what you’ve done! You’ve made Seungkwan’s mate run for the hills and now he could DIE! Do you even realize the severity of the situation you’ve just made Jihoon?!?” Jeonghan screamed while throwing his hands in the air, really wanting to punch him in the face but knowing that that would solve none of the problems he was listing off in his head.

Jeonghan was the silly alpha who liked to have fun and pull pranks. He was NEVER the one to handle the serious situations. And generally speaking, when he did, he always found it easier to sit down and talk to the others on a peer level. But he was BEYOND pissed. And Jihoon knew why. Seungkwan was one of the kindest most innocent people he’d ever met. And he had just scared off his mate by running his big fat mouth off. He deserved the harsh treatment his brother was giving him and much more.

“I… I know.” Jihoon responded, looking down at his hands that were now connected over his torso in shame.

“I REALLY don’t think you do know Jihoon. Seungkwan’s one of the few pack members who can keep us all together. Even if she hasn’t TRULY denied him, we both know someone like him could never go more than a few days without seeing his mate before getting sick and DYING! What do you thinks gonna happen to not just him, but the whole pack when he decides to give up?” Jeonghan pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, attempting to keep himself calm.

“I- I don’t know.” Jihoon whimpered out, even though he knew just how bad shit was gonna get.

“Well know THIS.” Jeonghan started with his index finger pushing into Jihoon’s chest.

“If ANYTHING happens to Seungkwan OR (Y/N), YOURE the one that’ll be responsible. And YOULL be the one to dig the graves before we kick your ass out of the house FOR GOOD. Am I making myself clear to you?” Jeonghan questioned through gritted teeth, getting more upset at him by the second.

“Yes Jeonghan Hyung.” Jihoon whined out with watery eyes.

“Good. Now you BETTER find SOMEWAY to fix the damage you caused, otherwise you better start looking for a new place to live!” Jeonghan spoke as he gripped onto Jihoon’s collar, lifting him up slightly during the conversation to show dominance.

Jihoon was terrified. He didn’t want his brother to die. He didn’t want to get dropped from the pack. He didn’t want you to die, even if he made it seem that way. He didn’t want a bunch of shit to set into motion because of his stupid actions. He felt like he was spiraling into a pit of despair. What was he going to do? His brother was gonna die and it was all his fault. You were going to die and it was all on him. He wouldn’t have a pack anymore and it was all because of himself. It felt like the whole world was closing in on him and he couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, flashes of your and Seungkwan’s corpses flashed through his mind. You guys’s eyes were white and hallow and your skin was cold and blue. Your mouths were stuck open in horror and all the life had been sucked out of the both of you. He killed you both. He killed you both. HE killed you BOTH. WHAT DID HE DO?!?!

-

Jihoon sat up gasping for air. He started patting his head and body, making sure they wouldn’t pass through him to prove he was awake. It was a dream. It was a dream. He was still alive. Seungkwan was still alive. You were still alive, at least he hoped. That thought frightened him more than anything, but he tried not to give into that fear.

He slowly laid back down to slow his rapidly beating heart and began breathing in and out at a deep pace. From through the walls, he could hear Seungkwan whimper in his sleep, his pulse beating as fast as a jackhammer. He must’ve been having another nightmare about you. Jihoon closed his eyes tightly.

He had to fix this. He had to help his brother. He caused all his pain. He was the reason he was alone in his room crying in his sleep right now. Seungkwan didn’t deserve what had happened to him. He was such a loving, sweet brother and mate. He had to get you back to him. But how could he possible do that? Your strange background meant you could do things they couldn’t even comprehend. You made it to where Seungkwan couldn’t even follow the pull. It was like you had vanished off the face of the Earth. So how the actual fuck could he manage to find you when even your own mate couldn’t?

Jihoon didn’t get anymore sleep that night, he staying up racking his brain on how he could get you to come home. And, by sunrise, he thought he had figured out a half decent plan. It was risky sure, but Jihoon would walk through hell if it meant getting you back to his brother now. He’d grovel on his hands and knees and beg you to come back with him if he had to. He had to rectify his mistakes.

He didn’t even care if he got kicked out of the pack at this point. He didn’t care if he lost his other brothers love anymore. All he cared about was Seungkwan and his sadness. The sadness he could hear every night. He had to bring you back, for Seungkwan’s sake.

And he was gonna do whatever he could to make that happen. Even if it meant getting himself killed in the process, he had to. Because even if he managed to lead you back home, no amount of sorrys or forgive mes we’re gonna bring his brother’s mind back from the abyss he had put him through. No amount of kisses or hugs from you were gonna have his brother’s smile shine as bright as it once had. Seungkwan was always gonna remember the pain of you leaving due to Jihoon’s hard words and actions. No matter what Jihoon did to try and make it all up to Seungkwan, it would Never be Enough in his eyes.

(Updated 8/23)

[paypay0315]

The Space Between (4)

She didn't sleep a wink last night. These nightmares are becoming too much for her and all she wants is for it to end.

But she has to keep pushing through or she want be able to defeat the Titans. "HARMONY!" She hears her name being called out, she wakes up.

Was she asleep? She really was that tired.

"WHY ARE YOU SLEEPING!?" Her commander screams in her face.

She immediately stands straight up giving her best form she could think of. "AM I BORING YOU CADET?!!"

"N-NO SIR!!" She stutters.

"IF YOU WANT TO SLEEP THEN YOU MIGHT AS WELL LEAVE THIS PLACE NOW!!!" he screams again this time up in her face.

"YES SIR! I UNDERSTAND BUT I WANT TO BE HERE SIR!!"

"WELL THEN ACT LIKE IT!" She can feel the spit starting to hit her face.

He walks away and to be honest she was honestly scared at how fast his mood can change.

......

Pushing this cart was alot harder then what she thought it would be. How does he expect them to push this cart with two cases of water in them? She huffs trying to control her breathing but its no use she feels like she could pass out at any moment.

Before she could take another breath the cart immediately starts to fall down from the hill. She strains her arms to try and pick the cart back up. "It's your fault" she heard a faint voice

No not this again.

"You're weak" she heard it again she looked behind her and saw Jean.

"What did you just say?" She questioned him.

"Huh?! I didn't say anything?" He points his eyebrow up.

She turns around with confusion written all over her face. Is she going crazy?

It gets harder for her to push up the cart since it just got knocked back down almost all the way to the bottom of the hill.

She's pretty much the only person who hasn't succeeded in getting the cart up to the top except for Eren of course but that's not a surprise there.

She struggles to even pick the cart back up and by the time she gets half way, time is up.

She failed...... again.

She can't keep going on like this.

........

Training becomes a lot harder for her. She can't even seem to keep her eyes open long enough to do any of the training. Ever since she started having nightmares again she hasn't slept at all. How will she ever do anything if she is letting stupid dreams get to her?

She starts to become weaker everyday and Eren notices. From the very beginning Eren kept an eye on everyone, he only did that because he wanted to test everyone's abilities to see if he can get stronger than them.

At the very beginning Harmony was on the top of many, she went through each training session in a blink of an eye and now it seems as though she can't even keep up? What's wrong with her?

Not that he cares or anything. He watches her struggle trying to pick up the cart for the second time. Why can't she pick it up?

"Hey Eren!" Armin calls out to him and knocks him out of his trance. "Hey can you please help!" Armin struggles to breathe while picking up the cart.

"Oh yes sorry" He says and picks up the cart all the way to the top of hill. When he looks down he sees Harmony at the bottom once again.

.......

After training was done all the cadets just went to bed after the tiring day they have had.

"Hey Eren!" Armin calls out to him.

"Yes?"

"What's up with you? Today you were out of it" Armin asks him.

"Nothing, and I wasn't out of it, what are you talking about?"

"I'm just saying, everytime I saw you, you were looking away" Armin says.

He noticed that?

"You were staring at Harmony" Eren becomes shocked at how much he noticed. Was he that obvious?

Eren face starts to heat up. "Didn't me and Mikasa tell you not to let her get to you, besides she's not doing very good right now so what's the problem?" He asks.

Is that what he thinks this is?

"That's not..... I mean-" he doesn't even know what to say.

What was he doing with her? Does he hate her still? Did he truly even hate her to begin with? After all he is just a kid who wants to kill Titans and anyone who stands in his way will get pushed back down. That's what Harmony was to him..... at first.

Someone who was in his way, but clearly something has changed. What was it? Pretty much all of there interactions with each other have been them yelling at eachother or calling each other names. But what changed?

The one time he felt like he saw the real Harmony. That's what changed. That day in the Tavern when they were cleaning. That felt so long ago, but he can't stop thinking about it. He can't stop thinking about how pretty she looked under the stars or how nice she treated him. And he couldn't also get it out of his head that he knows her from somewhere but where? That day at the Tavern he actually got a real good look at her that time.

And he noticed how she actually has a small dot on the right side of her lip, he's surprised he can see it even from her smooth dark skin. But it was very cute. And how her hair looked soft, he swears he has seen her before but he doesn't know from where.

"What is it?" Armin interrupts his dazing.

"L-Look it's nothing, and it's really none of your business Armin" Eren spits.

"I know but...... don't you think you are being a little bit..... mean" Armin struggles to say.

"Huh?!"

"I mean- I don't see what's got you so worked up about her? We are all here for the same thing are we not?"

"Yeah, but she's rude and she punches every chance she gets, she's loud and she doesn't even acknowledge me as a human being!" Eren almost screams. What was he saying? Does he still hate her?

"Maybe because you don't acknowledge her as a human being either"

Eren doesn't say anything back to that. He was...... right. So then he doesn't hate her? Lord this is so confusing. It makes his head spin.

"Maybe being a little nicer to her will change who she is..... and maybe you guys can actually work together on things" Armin suggests.

Eren still doesn't say anything back. What can he say? Armin was right.

Armin always had a way with his words. And he always knew how to calm Eren down when the time was right. He doesn't want to or rather he is too stubborn to admit it but he wants to maybe possibly....... be friends with her.

Will she even accept him as such? He at least has to give it a try right?

......

She walks outside to get some more fresh water from the well when she sees Eren at the same well.

Great.

She can't let him stop her from getting water. Cmon Harmony just go up there.

She takes slow steps just in case he notices her too early and she will have to start a conversation with him. But it's too late because once he is done getting the water he turns around quickly and sees her there.

They stare at eachother once again and don't say anything to one another.

It's quiet. A bit too quiet.  

It's so quiet you can hear the sweat coming from Erens forhead drop on the floor. And it's honestly getting really awkward at this point. Usually the two will be yelling at each other but neither one of them has said anything. Why is it weird all of a sudden? She thinks.

"Can I help you?" Eren breaks the silence.

"No, actually you can't!" she growled.

Is she angry with him?

She walks up to the well not breaking her eye contact with him until she drops her pot in the well.

Remember Eren, just treat her like a human being.

"So u-umm nice weather we are having right?" He says with a sly smile.

Eren what the fuck is wrong with you? He immediately regrets even saying anything but she doesn't even say anything back to him. Is she ignoring him?

"Y-yeah that's a pretty dumb question" he laughs it off but tension starts to fill the air. She still isn't saying anything back.

"Piss off will you!" she snapped.

Eren sometimes lets his anger get the best of him and all of a sudden he gets furious at the lack of respect he is receiving. He just doesn't understand why she's being such a bitch to him.

"Did I do something?" He asks.

She tries to ignore him but he just kept on bugging her with the same question.

"Can you please leave me alone!" She almost screams.

"Look i'm just asking a question, I don't know what i did to make you so angry"

What you are doing is talking so much. She thinks.

"I just wanna know what the hell I did? I told you I didn't want any distractions-"

"Excuse me?" she interrupts him.

"Oh, i'm sorry. Am i distracting you Eren?" She folds her arms around her chest.

He stutters. "Look, I just mean that I can't have an annoying little witch pestering me all the time when i'm trying to-"

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!!" She immediately yells out.

"STOP DOGDING MY QUESTION!! I ASKED YOU WHY YOU HATE ME?!" He matches her volume.

"THIS! BECAUSE YOU JUST INSULATED ME!!" She screams.

"I ONLY INSULATED YOU BECAUSE YOU CALLED ME A LITTLE GRIMMLIN"

"ITS NOT MY FAULT YOU LOOK LIKE ONE-" She yells and picks up her fist once again about to punch him.

"HEY!" someone yells at the both of them and they stop.

It's their commander.

"What the hell are yall out here yelling for?!" People are trying to sleep!!" He yells.

They don't say anything.

"If I see you guys out here past bedtime again both of you will be KICKED OUT!" he yells at the end and walks back into his room.

They are both silent. This isn't how Eren pictured it at all.

Well that was a total fail. Armins plan sucked. She still was treating him like shit. Why should he have to be nice to her? Why couldn't she be nice to him?

He doesn't understand women at all.

How could she let that little man get to her like that? She's better than this.

She didn't fail to notice though how for the first time Eren was trying to actually talk to her, but why? She also didn't fail to notice how he has changed in some way, she doesn't know how but she feels it.

.....

Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday to Harmony, Happy Birthday to you"  The small crowd sang.

"Okay sweetie now blow out your candles" A young women said.

The little girl blew out her candles and laughed after wards because of her excitement about eating cake.

She loved cake.

Her mother cut the cake for her and she dug into it using her hands and mainly her mouth. Everyone around her laughed at how cute she was.

"Can you believe she is now seven years old?!" the woman almost cried.

"I know where did the time go?" An older man said.

Yes. Where did the time go?

"You're weak" the little girl turns around and looks at her family.

The little girls eyes go wide at the picture she is seeing. Her families eyes are not even in their face. It's like they have gone black.

"You're weak" the girls mother points at her.

"If only you hadn't been so weak, we wouldn't have died" the father comes up to her. He bends down and grabs her face and starts squeezing it.

"DADDY STOP IT!" The little girl cries out.

"You're weak" he says again.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it!

She wakes up. Another nightmare.

When she wakes up she sees she's in the Tavern. When did she get here?

"You sure were sleeping good" Someone says in front of her she looks over and sees her annoying roommate.

"Are you sure you got enough sleep?" She asked.

"Yeah..... I was just shutting my eyes for a minute" Harmony tells her.

"We've been here for an hour and you have been alseep the whole time" Sasha says with a stuff face full of food.

"Maybe you should eat all that food first before you talk, it's disgusting" Harmony nagged.

Sasha doesn't even care she stuffs her face with more food. What is wrong with this girl? Doesn't she have a stomach?

"You should eat as well Harmony" Sasha suggests.

"Oh and a question, why is your skin so dark?"

Did she seriously just ask that? Harmony honestly doesn't even know the answer to the question herself.

"I-I" Harmony stutters out.

"You haven't been eating either" Sasha doesn't progress on the last question.

Thank god.

"Have you been watching me or something?"

"No and yes I mean you are my room mate, I notice things...... like how you use your trauma to hurt Erens feelings" She says with a smile on her face.

"Huh?!"

"Are you gonna eat that?" She points at the bread next to Harmony and she shakes her head no, Sasha has never grabbed anything so quickly in her life. She grabs Harmony's bread and stuffs it in her mouth. "Well we all have noticed Harmony" she says.

"And to be honest I think it's wrong, you see I understand you lost your family but that doesn't mean you have a right to bully people" She doesn't even stutter when she says this stuff. It seems like she has been wanting to tell her for a while.

But Harmony can't stand any of it. Who the hell does she think she is?

"What the hell do you know about me?" Harmony spits.

"I'm just saying, the past couple of weeks Ive noticed Eren has refrained from being mean to you so maybe you should stop being mean to him" She gulps down her water.

Harmony just sits there and watches her like she is watching an animal eat.

"I have no idea who the hell you think you are, but you don't know me. So I would refrain from trying to tell me about my life!" She almost yells.

"I'm just saying-"

"I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE SAYING BUT ITS NOT TRUE!!"

Sasha stops eating.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ME???!!"

"You're weak" she hears again.

Everyone in the Tavern starts to hear her.

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I HAVE BEEN THROUGH!!"

"You're weak"

Her head starts pounding again. "IM NOT WEAK!"

She throws the food along with the table on the floor about to pounce on Sasha. "HARMONY" She hears a familiar voice call out to her and she looks over, she sees it's Eren.

She looks at him softly and she calms down. But that doesn't stop her from walking out the Tavern.

Sasha was right. That's why she got so angry because she knows she is right but once again she will not admit that.

.....

She finds herself outside again. Ever since the first night she did it she can't seem to stop. It calms her. Thinking about 'the big toe' star. She has no idea why that's the star that calms her down but it does.

The story touched her heart more than she liked to admit. It was cute in a way.

She just wants her mind to be clear for once. Since she can't seem to sleep she comes out here to clear her mind. It helps in more ways than one.

She's just so tired. She's tired of all of it. She's tired of the fighting she's tired of this world, this place. She doesn't even feel like being in training anymore.

She just wants to see her family again.

But the one person who's mind cant stop running is Erens. He's watching her again.

He just wanted to see if she was alright especially after the incident earlier, okay maybe he is some what fond of her but that's only because the past two years he has gotten to know her. But he just can't stop thinking about her and he has no idea why. It's honestly driving him crazy. One minute he wants to hit her in the face and the next he just wants to see if she is okay.

He hates feeling like this. So confused on everything. But it's also because he can't stop thinking about how he may know her from somewhere. But where?

He knows he has seen her from somewhere.

"Staring at people is rude you know?" He hears her say. Did she know he was here?

"Oh- ummm..... s-sorry I wasnt trying to"

"It's fine" she looks his way. Wait what?

She didn't yell at him? "You aren't going to call me a gremlin or yell at me?"

"No, i'm..... too tired" she looks down.

She seems sad. And she looks like she had been crying. He notices some stains on her cheek and how puffy her eyes are.

"Are you okay?"

"Are those the only words that come out of your mouth?" She asked clearly annoyed at the question.

"N-no, look I just wanted to see if you were okay, your outburst earlier......"

"Yeah?"

He takes a deep breath. "You seemed more aggressive then usual" he says all in one breath.

She looks over at him she honestly should feel offended but at this point she just feels numb.

She looked up at the stars once again, and doesn't even answer his question because she doesn't even know if she is okay.

"Why are stars so pretty?" She asked Eren. He looked over at her looking up at the stars.

This was the Harmony that he wanted to get to know, the Harmony that was soft and kind. Why was she always hiding this side? He thought. Its nice.

"Oh I don't know, you know i've always wondered how they got up there" He says. "It's something i wanna do though"

"Go see the stars? How would you even get up there?" She smiles.

He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know, so where do you wanna go?"

"What?"

"Like what's the one thing you've always wanted to see or go to?"

"Ive always wanted to go to the ocean" she tells him.

"What?'

"Ive heard from my grandparents that the ocean is pretty, that the water is always cold and how blue it is" she smiles at the memory.

He looks her way. "I wanna go to the beach, I wanna watch the waves, I wanna go beyond the wall"

She sighs, "OH- I even heard that there are animals in the water too, isn't that so cool?!!!" She cheered. She was so excited she started to clap her hands at the memory of her grandparents that told her these stories.

She's so cute, "My friend, Armin.... he told me about it, his parents went past the wall before they died"

"Really?" Her eyes glow at that, Eren's cheeks start to turn into a faint pink. Shes really cute.

"Y-Yeah, he had a whole book explaining these things, his parents made it"

"You have to show me" she beamed.

"Oh... well we dont really have it anymore"he sighs.

"Why not" she pouts.

"The attack... on my hometown.... it got lost...."

Oh yeah.... he still doesnt know that she was there that day. The attack.

If that attack didnt happen she will be able to see the book of the sea. Hell if that didn't happen she would still have her grandparents here to tell her these stories. If only she hadn't been so weak. If only she had just been stronger. It was all her fault.

"Its your fault" it all comes crashing down on her hard. Her head starts banging once again.

"You're weak"

She doesnt know why this keeps happening to her. Is it the lack of sleep? The lack of food?

She puts her hands on her head to stop the trobbing that is happening but it doesn't work it feels like the pounding is actually getting the louder the more she does it.

"AHHH!" she yells out in pain. And she falls off the well and she hits her back on the floor.

Eren runs to her side and tries his best to lift her up, "Harmony are you okay?" he asks panic in his voice.

She keeps holding her head but its no use, "GET OFF OF ME!" she pushes Eren off of her.

"Hey what the hell!" he yells at her but he stops when he starts to see she stopped screaming. Was she in pain?

He just sees her curled up in a ball rocking back and forth saying, "it's your fault" "you're weak"

Her eyes are wide open and she looks like she is just about to lose it.

"Harmony-" he reaches to touch her shoulder.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" she pushes her self up getting into a fighting position.

She sees them, the Titans, they are there.

She holds her head again trying to stop the images from coming.

"DAD NO!" She yells out. Eren doesn't know what to do. He just stares and watches her fight the air.

"Harmony-" he says again. She can't hear him all she can hear is buildings being crushed and screaming.

"No go away!" She yells. It's like she can't even hear him. What's going on with her? She keeps punching the air like someone is in front of her but there is no one there.

He runs up to her to try and grab her arms to make her stop.

"HARMONY!"

"NO!!! GO AWAY!"

"HARMONY!" he yells louder than he has ever before and all of a sudden she stops. She stops struggling to get out of his hold and she looks him in the eyes.

She seems so scared, so lost. It's like she's in there but she's trapped and she wants to be freed.

"Eren-" is the last thing she says before she passes out.

......

When she wakes up she gets confused on how she ended up here because she doesn't remember anything.

"Oh, so youre alive?" Sasha asks.

"What?"

"Well last night you looked like you were dead" she poked her cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you were all passed out like" she starts to imitate exactly what she did "And Eren even had to carry you back here"

"Eren carried me?"

"Yeah, he did. He carried you all the way here. Ah so sweet!"

Harmony doesn't refrain from showing her confused look. What the hell happened last night?

.......

Another day of training for her. She wouldn't lie and say she wasn't getting tired of the same old stunts being pulled.

"Today class we will be doing something different today...... we will be sparring" the bald man shouts. The whole class rumbles with excitement and so does she.

Finally some real action.

"I will give you a partner for the remainder of your training, here is the list"

He puts a paper out in front of the class.

Harmony runs towards it hoping she gets a good partner that helps her training.

When she looks at the list her eyes go wide because she got the one person she couldn't even look at.

Eren Yeager.

Why? Why of all people did it have to be him?

Why couldn't she get someone else?

She hasn't spoken or even looked at Eren since..... that night. She doesn't even remember what happened and she honestly doesn't even want to know.

"Sir I think there has been some mistake!" She tells him.

"There has been no mistakes maam" he tells her.

"No, you see I can't work with him" she points towards Eren who doesn't even realize she is talking about him.

"This was the list I made and it's final if you have a problem with it then you can leave and never return to the Military Training again" he spits.

"B-but Sir!"

"No buts, This is final! Now get to work!" He shouts.

This is just great. She hopes she will be able to handle herself while training with him. Knowing him she probably won't but she can't let him distract her from her goal.

They get in there standing positions ready to start. They stare at one another for a quick moment and Harmony takes off.

She reaches back her arm and punches him right in his face knocking him down to the ground.

Maybe that was a bit too personal but she doesn't care.

"Hey, what the hell man!" Eren yells out in pain.

"What? Are you hurt by one little punch?" She smirkes.

His eyebrows furry. "No, but I think you're forgetting we are just sparring" he informs her.

"Whatever, if you can't handle my punches what makes you think you will be able to handle a Titan" she was challenging him.

She has a point.

He picks up his hands again and gets in his fighting position. This time he is the one to take the first punch but he misses it because she dodged it.

"Too slow, pretty boy" she smirked again and another punch landed right on his nose.

He falls to the ground once again. This time he struggles to get back up but he eventually does.

"What the hell is your problem?" He asks.

"My problem is you!" She yells out.

"What did i do?"

She doesn't answer because she doesn't know what her problem is.

"Look just fight me" she says.

He swings and she blocks and punches him right in his stomach.

"You dont need to punch so hard!" he screams in pain. "What the hell is wrong with you?!""

"I told you"

Before she can swing again he catches her arm and holds one in the air, when she uses her other arm to try and hit him he also catches that one and puts it beside the other arm. Shes now locked in place and can't get out.

They are face to face and breathing heavy. "I asked you, what the hell is your problem?" This was a different type of Eren. He wasnt just mad, his whole aura had changed into this dominate man. He wasn't asking, he was demanding her to answer.

He looked down on her, and she saw his eyes up close for the first time.

She eventually used her strength to let go of his hold and push him away and on the ground.

"You think you can come in here and talk about what happened that day like you just won some prize for going through it" she spits.

That day? Does she mean the attack?

"What?!" Eren says while standing back up.

"A lot of people died that day...."

She swings at him but she misses "alot of people lost there families.... lost there loved ones" She swings again but she misses once again. Eren notices her swings are starting to become a lot weaker the more she talks.

"I lost......" she stops swinging

She starts to take deep quick breaths, she can no longer think. Its like every thing from that day comes crashing down on her, everything that she was holding back comes out. The tears that she had built up in her come down like a water fall.

Erens eyes go wide when he realizes shes crying.

"I LOST EVERYTHING THAT DAY!!!" she screams so loud everyone in training turns and looks at her.

"I LOST MY MOM *she swings and misses again* "I LOST MY DAD" she swings.

This time Eren grabs ahold of her arm again and holds it in place, she swings her other arm and Eren grabs that one as well she got caught in the same position she was before. She tries her best to get out of his hold but fails.

"THEY ARE GONE!!!! She says spit coming out her mouth. "and they arent coming back." she says soflty. She puts her down, more tears start to stream down her face she can barely even see because of how blurry her eyes have become.

Tears still streaming down her face she stops once again because now all she can see is the images pictured in her head from that day. The images that she tried so hard to get out of her head.

The image of her mother dying, how her father sacrificed himself to save her, her grandparents. Everyone was gone.

"AHHHH" she screams in pain because of the pounding in her head. Eren catches her from falling on the floor when her legs give out.

"They are all gone!" she yells out.

"MAKE IT STOP, MAKE IT STOP!" she cries out.

Eren looks like he might cry as well. He's never seen her suffer this much before.

She looks up at Eren but she doesn't realize Eren is there. "It's all my fault" she says before she slowly passes out...... again.

Everyone in the training just looks at her wondering what had happened. Everyone was quiet, not knowing what to say or do.

All they see is Eren picking her bridal style and taking her to her to rest up.

........

She was there that day? The day the Titans attacked. Why didnt he see it? Why didnt he know?

All the times he told the story of the attack must of have triggered her. He hates this. He hates how hurt she is because of this. If only he had seen, he would have helped her. The last thing he wants to do is hurt someone who has been through the same thing as him.

But then he remembered something it finally hit him where he had seen her from.

........

He remembered her parents, he remembered how she would always give him bread when he was hungry. Her parents owned a bakery and they would always give him milk to bring back home. They seemed so sweet and kind.

He has to apologize for everything.

......

When she wakes up she sees, she is in her room once again. What happened?

Oh yeah, she passed out again.

"Oh, you're okay. I was so worried about you." Sags runs over to her to give her some food and water.

"Sorry I ate some of the bread" Harmony looks down and sees most of it all gone. She quickly sets down her food on the bed.

"Thank you" Harmony says softly. Sasha clearly tells something is still bothering her.

"Im guessing things didnt go good with Eren?" she asked

"What?"

"Well everyone pretty much saw saw what was happening, did you even take my advice?"

"Your advice was shit" she spits.

Sasha just looks at her, she was clearly offended by what Harmony had just said and she couldnt help but feel heartbroken by the comment. Sasha was a nice person, yes she was dumb but she was always there for Harmony.

She doesnt know why but she felt a stinge of guilt in her heart when she saw the girl form a small pout and put down her head.

"Ummm... look, things with Eren are complicated...." she stuttered.

...

"Yeah it seemed pretty tense" she said back.

Now that harmony was sitting there she didnt realize what exactly had happened. She had completely forgot she had a mental breakdown in the middle of training out in the open. She can't help but feel a little embarrassed by it now and she honestly doesn't want to step foot out this room anymore. But all those feelings that she felt finally feel washed a way out of her.

But she finally realizes what Sasha has been saying this whole time. She didn't realize she was holding it all in like that. She thought she could just bury it down and forget about it eventually but she never did. She never wanted to.

All that anger that was bottled up inside of her finally feels free. And she can't help but feel terrible at the way she treated Eren. She never once even gave him the light of day all because of what she went through.

Should she apologize? She doesn't know, her head starts to spin at the confusing decisions she has to make. Since that day she has been alone, she never really talked to anyway. Her pride was too big and so was her ego.

She tries to wash it all away once again, she stands up about to walk out the door leaving Sasha there, but she stops at the door knob.

"Maybe you were right Sasha" she says aloud. Sasha looks up from eating the rest of the bread that was in the plate and Harmony turns towards her.

"You were right about everything." Tears start to well up in her eyes again and she tries her best to not let them loose. "Maybe I was a bit mean to Eren- I mean i dont know..... I just" tears start to come down again and before she can finish her next sentence Sasha runs off the bed and hugs her.

"Im sorry, i dont know what happened but I am truly sorry about what happened to your family I know if they were here today they would be so proud of you"

Harmony shivers in her touch, she hasn't felt this close to someone in years. She hasn't felt the warmth of someone in years. She feels like a child, she feels like this is her first time experiencing this at all.

Sasha deepens the hug and for a moment Harmony felt safe. She felt like she could be free from the anger that had built up in her all this time. She slowly puts her arms around her to complete the hug and they stay there a lot longer.

.......

"Now everyone get into your partners I assigned you with and start killing titans!"

Great. Another day with Eren.

She sighs. She hasn't spoken to him since the day she went all crazy. She honestly doesn't want to. She doesn't know what to say.

"Eren-" Mikasa calls out to him.

"Yes?"

"If she even thinks about hurting you i'll hurt her back, don't forget to tell me" Mikasa nose flares.

"Mikasa i'm okay she's not gonna hurt me" Eren tells her more aggressively.

Eren walks up to her more determined then usual. "Are you ready to kill Titans partner?" he has a big bright smile on his face. And of course something has changed. She didn't want this to happen. Why couldn't they just keep there regular banter going? Why did he even have to say anything to her?

"The team with the most cuts in the Titans neck wins, alright now everybody....... start!" Their commander yells.

And everyone jumps up in the air ready to take down anything that stands in their path including Harmony.

Flying through the air she notices the first Titan on her right but she sees Connie trying to get their first. She speeds up as much as she can but it's no use she isn't going to make it. He's too fast.

But she doesn't give up she keeps pushing through only until she sees Eren from the corner of her eye right beside Connie. Eren pushes himself off of a tree branch and it makes him go farther than Connie and he slices it. That's one point for their team.

She huffs put in anger at how slow she was to reach his neck.

Next one she will do better.

The next three times she got all of them.

They now have 4 points in total. They were in the lead but not for long though because Mikasa and Armin come around the corner with a total of 10 points.

Eren and Harmonys eyes go wide. "Did he just say 10?!" Eren gulps.

How is Mikasa beating her?

She swings from MOD gear onto one of the last Titans. She has to make this, if she doesn't her and Eren will lose. She will lose.

She pushes her self off of a tree branch and sees Mikasa flying towards it as well. She has to hurry this time. She realizes her and Mikasa are almost getting close to one another.

Mikasa is purposely doing it though. The more she scoots back the more she gets closer. Eventually Harmony has no where to back up to because she hits a tree and her MOD gear snaps back into her pouch.

She starts to fall from the air. Did she purposely try to kill her?

She might be a bit dramatic but the fall was very long and there was nothing on the ground to help her land softly. Before she could close her eyes she was stopped and her hand was being grabbed.

When she looked up she saw..... Eren.

He saved her. He had her hand tight and pulled her up with all the strength he could conquer up. When he pulled her up there faces almost touched eachother. Maybe he used to much strength.

And they looked at eachother and for the first time she actually saw his face up close and more personal.

And for the first time Eren wasn't calling her names but he was actually helping her. Is this what Sasha was talking about all this time? How he had been nicer towards her.

If he knew who Harmony was at the beginning he wouldn't have even called her those things. This is how he wants to repay all those times he did.

He hasn't even apologized to her because he doesn't know how to. But he does know that she didn't deserve what she went through, he will kill all the Titans just to make her suffering stop.

Harmony looked at him closely. Were his eyes really that green? They looked beautiful in a way.

What? No Harmony stop. She pulled her hand away from his and backed up away from him. She gulped and eventually pushed herself off the tree they were just on and she quickly goes back to the task at hand.

She didn't want to look back. But for some reason her heart was racing, and it wasn't because of her fall but something else.

What was it?

.....

218 cadets managed to make it to graduation. Including Harmony.

It was such a long road but she finally did it. She finally did what she came here to do and that was be apart of the survey Corps. She smiles brightly.

A lot of people were shocked at how big her smile was and Connie even laughed at it but she didn't care because she was happy. For the first time in forever she was happy.

It was a strange feeling to have because it's something she hadn't felt in so long. But she can now finally get her revenge.

.....

He didn't realize how fun doing this with his friends was. He is so glad that he had Armin and Mikasa and everyone esle by his side to fight the good fight.

"EREN CONGRATULATIONS ON MAKING TOP 5!" One of his fellow cadets yelled out to him.

"THANK YOU!" He yells back.

He can't believe he even got top 5. Well he can, he did train hard for it. But even though he is smiling and laughing it up with his friends he still feels weird...... he feels like something is missing.

Like there was something missing he looks around and he doesn't see the one person he wanted to tonight.

"Hey Sasha have you seen Harmony?" He asks her.

"Oh yeah, she stayed behind to just do some cleaning I guess" Sasha slurs her words because her mouth is filled with food.

Why didn't she come? He quickly grabs an extra plate of food and is about to run out the Tavern when he stopped by Mikasa.

"Eren, where are you going?" She asks him.

"No where! Mikasa let go!" He tries to swing his arm out of her hold but she brings it back down.

"You can't possibly be going to Harmony, especially after how she treated you" she tells him.

"Mikasa stop it! You are not gonna stop me from seeing her!" He now swings his arm so hard he almost gets knocked on the floor. But Mikasa doesn't stop him further because Armin holds her back.

As Eren is walking out the Tavern he tries a figure out a way to actually apologize to Harmony. It's been months since they have even spoken to each other the way they used to. Now was time for a change.

He knocks on her door slowly and she opens it.

"Eren? What are you doing here?" She asks.

"Oh umm..... Well I-I didn't see you at the celebration so umm I just wanted to see if you were okay" He stutters.

"Oh- yes umm I'm fine, I-I was just cleaning the room a bit more, living with Sasha, she king of leaves food everywhere" She laughs and so does he but the laughs start to die down and it starts to get really awkward.

"So- umm i brought you this before Sasha could eat the rest of it"

"It looks like she did already" Harmony takes the napkin off the plate that reveals a half eaten bread and all the corn being gone.

"I must have grabbed the wrong plate, let me go get-" He freak ti leave but Harmony stops him.

"No, No Eren really it's fine. It's not the first time Sasha has eaten my food before." They both laugh again and once again it starts to become really awakes cause of the long silences.

Eren runs the back of his head. "So I'm-" they both say at the same time.

They both give off a small smile. "You can go first" Eren speaks.

"Umm look, Eren i'm so sorry. For everything. The way i treated...... was horrible. I should have never treated you that way, I was just throwing my trauma into you and it wasn't right-"

"N-No Harmony I should be apologizing to you" Eren interrupts her.

"I'm the one in the wrong, if i had known you went through something like that as well I would have never said anything about that day. It clearly triggered you when i was talking about it, and for that Im sorry"

"Eren it's okay really, thank you though....... how about we just start over. We never got to have a decent relationship now did we?"

Eren shakes his head. "Yeah let's do that"

"Hi, My name is Harmony"

"Hello, Harmony my name is Eren" They both shake eachothers hands and laugh at the sarcasm in their tones.

She walks out the porch with the food in her hand and she sits down and looks at the stars.

"Are you gonna come look at the stars with me?" She asks Eren. He rushes over and sits right next to her.

They both end up sharing the half eaten bread and laugh all night. She didn't realize Eren was this funny. She always saw him as some hard working, determined kid but she never saw him as a clown type. Though he was a bit dumb at times.

She wishes she could have seen this Eren from the very beginning but she is glad that she is seeing it now. That night was honestly the best night of her life.

......

[queen-scribbles]

Acceptable Risk

Art trade fic for the extremely patient @theheroofoakvale, exploring if Shepard’s recruiting Thane had gone a little.... differently.

-----

The door opened with a quiet hiss, and Shepard’s entry was greeted with the raised barrels of several assault rifles. The mercenaries, however, paused before opening fire, despite being confronted by three heavily armed individuals pointing guns back at them.

The asari in the middle of the cluster--clad for business rather than combat--spun to face them, her eyes widening. “Shepard?!”

Shepard smirked, centered his pistol on her. “Nassana.”

There was a muffled clatter in the ceiling that had the mercenaries’ attention swiveling upward. Her posture shifted defensive. “You’re dead.”

“I got better,” he retorted, and shot her in the throat.

Her bodyguards zeroed back in on him and his team, torn between them and the threat above, and that was their undoing. A dark figure dropped from one of the ceiling vents, and Shepard used that moment of distraction to take out two of them. When the remaining mercs focused in on him, the dark figure punched one in the throat and shot the other center mass. The few that were left went down quickly.

Massani and Vakarian kept their guns up, leveled at the late arrival, a drell, as he stood in the middle of the carnage, eyes fixed in an unblinking, regretful stare at Nassana Dantius’ body.

“Sorry if I stole your kill,” Shepard said after letting the silence go as long as he could tolerate. His pistol hung at his side in a loose grip, ready if he needed it. He didn’t think he would.

“I was not here for her, though the galaxy is no less for her removal,” the drell said softly, finally looking up from the dead woman and blinking just before he met Shepard’s gaze. “I am here for you.”

Behind him, Massani muttered a quiet curse and Vakarian tightened his grip on his gun, but Shepard didn’t even flinch. “I did wonder. Dantius hardly seems worth the time for someone of your... reputation.”

“And yet you still came,” the drell said, clasping his hands behind him and looking in no rush to kill anyone.

“She used me.” He let the barest edge of a snarl color the words. “I can go along with a likely trap if it gives me an excuse for payback. Also,” he took half a step forward, “seemed the best way to meet you, Krios. We need to talk.”

Thane Krios did not look at all perturbed that his target knew who he was. His expression remained impassive as he studied Shepard’s face. “Do we? What about?”

“I need your help on a mission. You can feel free to continue trying to kill me after we’re done.”

“Why?” Krios asked, still studying Shepard’s face.

“Why, what?”

“Why do you need me? Why should I help instead of killing you now?”

Shepard laughed darkly. “The fucking galaxy is at stake, I need the best of the best, even if they are out for my blood.” Another half step forward, Vakarian and Massani following this time until he waved them back. “As for the second question.... I know some things about you, Krios. I know you’re dying, and I know you have a son.” His pistol folded in on its clip as he crossed his arms and stared hard at the assassin. “And where he is. I imagine you’d hate for something to happen to him before you had a chance to mend fences.”

Three rapid blinks, a sharp breath, posture unchanged, but it was the most reaction Krios had shown in this conversation. “And would you make this...   something happen if I say no, Shepard?”

His calm was impressive. Shepard wondered if it was an easier illusion to maintain with eyes that had neither pupils nor iris to betray strong emotion. “If I have to. I need the best, Krios, which is you. Don’t really care how I get your cooperation.”

Krios was silent for a long moment. “This threat must be grave indeed for you to employ such measures.”

He was nigh impossible to read, but the slight shift of his clasped hands was hint enough. “I’m hunting an enemy who’s abducting human colonies and has ties to the Reapers, I’d call that pretty damn grave. Like I said, you can resume trying to kill me if we survive. What’s it gonna be?”

Another heavy pause, though shorter. “You have left me only one viable option if I care about my son.”

Shepard arched a brow.

“I will assist. Consider this a pause in the contract on your life.”

“Good enough for me.” Shepard cast a smug glance at Dantius’ corpse, then turned to exit the room. “We’re done here, so you can either come with us or meet us at the ship.”

“I will meet you shortly. I have a few personal effects to gather,” Krios said.

“Alright. We’re on a clock, so don’t dilly dally,” Shepard replied, and motioned their departure to Vakarian and Massani.

“What’s to stop him from shooting you on our way down?” Vakarian muttered as they headed for the elevator. “He’s already planning to kill you and you threatened his kid.”

Massani beat Shepard to the answer. “Doesn’t know if there’s a dead man’s switch on that something happenin’ to his boy if Shepard bites it.” He chuckled darkly and smirked at Shepard. “What the hell’d you do to earn a death mark, anyway?” 

Shepard shrugged, watching the blur of downward travel out the elevator’s glass-paned wall. “Hell if I know, Massani. Certainly pissed off enough people for there to be some options.”

The mercenary gave a rough laugh and slapped him on the shoulder. “Wear like a badge of fucking honor, kid. Means you got someone real riled up.”

---

Krios was, as promised, aboard the Normandy well within an hour. His personal effects he’d gone to collect were few enough to fit in a small shoulder satchel that he politely refused to let anyone inspect. (Lawson was not happy when Shepard told her to drop it, clearly suspicious of allowing an assassin on board without first vetting his gear.) He settled in life support at EDI’s suggestion, and ruffled no feathers with the rest of the crew, unless you counted Taylor’s mistrust of his career in general.

“What will be expected of me, Commander?” Krios asked, in that same modulated tone he’d used on Illium.

“No shipboard duties, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Shepard said. He leaned against the wall by the door and studied Krios. “You can do as you like here. When we have missions, I may want you to come watch my six, if your skillset seems a good fit.”

“I see.” He folded his hands, elbows braced against the small worktable at which he sat. There was a hesitation under the words that almost rang in the air.

“If there’s something else you wanna say, now’s the time,” Shepard prodded. He didn’t have time to be gentle prying out secrets or whatever.

“My son,” Krios said, words measured and careful. “You say you know where he is. Would you be willing to share that knowledge?”

Shepard mulled it over, weighing the value of his options. “In time,” he finally said. “We have a couple pressing assignments that are more important than family reunions. But if we hit a point with some free time I’ll let you know.”

Krios nodded, his expression unreadable as ever. “Very well, Shepard.”

“One thing I need to know from you,” Shepard began, pushing away from the wall, “is if whatever’s killing you will affect your abilities in a fight.”

“It shouldn’t, not yet.” He paused for the space of a few blinks. “I should have several months at least before the symptoms become noticeable even to myself. More than enough time to complete your mission, if it is as urgent as you make you sound.”

“Is that something you doubt, Krios?” 

“Not at all.” Krios pushed to his feet and crossed the room to examine a rack of spare rifle parts. “Even someone of your reputation would have to be on a mission of urgency to blackmail an assassin sent to kill you into helping your cause. I simply mean this threat seems the type where a decisive outcome will be reached swiftly; whether in victory or destruction. Well within the time I have before functionality is... affected.”

“Good.” Shepard nodded. “Not sure when I’ll need you, but I want to be sure you’ll be worth it when the times comes.” He left the room, noting Krios’ undertone murmur as he did, and from the cadence wondered what the assassin was praying for.

---

Shepard first tested him on something that seemed of no consequence; a mercenary base on a backwater planet trafficking stolen eezo. Thane did his job, no more no less, all the while making note of how the man fought. The risks he thought worth taking, the sacrifices that were acceptable cost, the balance of recklessness and cunning. It was not a complete picture, not off one mission, and Thane wouldn’t act on what he’d gleaned even if it were.

Not with the blade the commander had hung over Kolyat. Not with the hope of learning where his son might be. Patience was the hallmark of an assassin, after all; knowing when to strike as well as how. And Thane had been an assassin a very long time. He could wait.

Especially as conversations with others aboard the ship painted a clearer and clearer picture of the mission’s scope. A trip through the Omega 4 relay was very likely to be suicidal just on its own. Destroying whatever these Collectors used as a base doubly so. When Shepard made ‘if we survive’ comments, he wasn’t joking. Thane could wait. He could help with the mission--it was a worthy goal after all, one he would have assisted in accomplishing without the threats--and then resume his contract.

After the mercenary base was eliminated, and easily, Shepard made use of Thane’s skills a few more times. Usually on missions with plentiful shadow coverage and good sight lines.

“How’re you holding up?” Garrus asked on one such mission, the two of them picking off targets from a bit of a distance while Shepard made viciously short work of the battlefield.

“I’ve had worse assignments.” Thane’s rifle kicked against his shoulder and the krogan he’d been targeting dropped. He fired another shot, just to be safe, and watched the body jerk then lay still, before searching out another target. “What of you?”

Garrus snorted, took down his own target. “I’m  here because he’s my... friend” --there was a brief hesitation, as if the turian wasn’t completely sure that was the right word--”and I trust that whatever he’s doing is worth whatever it costs to accomplish.”

“You’ve fought alongside him before.”

“Against Sovereign, yeah.” Garrus’ mandible twitched as he focused on sighting in another shot. “This feels different.”

He didn’t elaborate, and it was only a few moments more for them the claim victory and press further on with their mission.

Thane watched Shepard, and wondered what had changed in the eyes of his friend.

---

It was after the derelict Reaper, after adding a geth to their mix, that Thane’s patience paid off. At least in part.

“Your kid’s on the Citadel,” Shepard informed him out of the blue. “Lucky for you, Vakarian has some unfinished business there as well, and the techs need some time to integrate the IFF to the Normandy’s systems. I can spare a side trip for personal issues while they get that squared away. Be ready to go in an hour.”

Thane didn’t protest. Didn’t question. He could ask for details on approach to the Citadel.

They set a cold knot in his gut when he learned them. “He’s here to kill someone,” Shepard said bluntly, and all Thane could think was Like father, like son. That was not a path he’d ever wanted for Kolyat. Shepard didn’t have a lot of details, just that Kolyat was there. Apparently even Cerberus’ resources had limits.

They spoke to a C-Sec officer, then to Mouse at his suggestion--Thane was surprised but pleased he was still alive--both conversations Shepard kept as short as possible. Clearly he was not in the mood to waste time. Thane wished that hadn’t involved the commander breaking Mouse’s nose, but couldn’t muster much sympathy when the same proved true of Kelham once they got his name and interrogated him.

“We have some time, not a lot of it,” Shepard growled. “And we still need to find Sidonis when we’re done with your shit, Krios.” He turned to Captain Bailey.  “What can you tell me about this Talid Kelham wants dead?”

The picture Bailey painted--up and coming turian politician, vocally anti-human and gaining support--made it obvious why Kelham would want Talid gone. He had to be very bad for business. He was also in a very vulnerable position currently; pressing flesh on a walk through the Wards with only one or two bodyguards along for protection.

Thane had to admit surprise when Shepard was alright with them splitting up to track Talid and (hopefully) find Kolyat.

“You can’t find him alone any more than I can,” Shepard commented with a sharp smile s he and Garrus headed for the catwalks. “Stay sharp, Krios.”

As if he would do otherwise. Still, he bowed his head and asked Amonkira for strength and guidance before he vanished into the shadows, hoping they weren’t too late to save his son from a very familiar dark path.

Are you really surprised? a voice inside him mocked as Thane picked his route along catwalks and ducts, through shadows and crowds. Even if he hates you, that’s the example you left.

He shook it off. He didn’t have the luxury of internal debate right now. He had to pick out his route on the fly, keep in touch with Shepard and Garrus, plot out several ways to handle the situation that all depended on Kolyat’s behavior. And he didn’t know his own son well enough to predict that, so his solutions were all loosely structured ideas at best. Some plan was better than none.

It was a close thing, despite their best efforts. Kolyat spooked, shot the bodyguards and dragged Talid into his apartment with a gun to his head.

Shepard was only a step behind once Kolyat broke cover and very quickly had a gun pointed at him.

Thane went very still, watching this standoff. He didn’t know Shepard well enough to know what the man would do, but he knew what C-Sec protocols would be, and he could hear their approach. Shepard had been very clear about the limited time they had for this side trip, the fastest resolution--which would also fulfill C-Sec’s mandate to keep Talid alive--would end with his son dead, and Shepard was not a patient man.

Kolyat’s anger blazed, even from across the room, and he was far from willing to cooperate, his pistol pressed to the back of Talid’s head.

The loud crack of a pistol shot nearly made Thane flinch, his chest squeezing in protest at the thought of his failure. Just this one thing, I wanted to fix just this.

But Shepard’s shot snapped Talid’s head back, not Kolyat’s. The turian collapsed in a spray of dark blood and Kolyat recoiled. In that moment of distraction, Thane surged forward and twisted the pistol out of Kolyat’s hands, unsure if the tremor was adrenaline or rage.

Shepard was talking to an incensed Bailey; “No one will miss a racist asshole, I did you a favor”, but Thane’s focus was all on his son. 

“This was not the best way,” he said softly.

“What do you know?” Kolyat hissed back, struggling against Thane’s unrelenting grip.

“More than you might think.”

Kolyat yanked away as if the contact had burned him. Fury simmered in his eyes, and resentment, but he was alive. C-Sec would still have to take him in for what he’d been ready to do(attempted murder? That would likely be the charge), there would be consequences for what he tried to do, and Thane didn’t know if they even could “mend fences” as Shepard had put it. But he was alive. And hopefully could be deterred from a path Thane wouldn’t wish anyone to tread.

“Krios,” Shepard barked and Thane pulled himself out of his reverie watching C-Sec lead Kolyat away. But rather than Time to go, the commander nodded after the arresting officers. “Massani can help with tracking down Fade. You have until we’re done. I wouldn’t count on more than an hour or two.”

Thane blinked, thrown off kilter by the gesture, but recovered quickly.  “Understood.” He’d taken three steps after the C-Sec officers before he stopped and turned. “...Thank you, Shepard.”

The man waved him off, already walking away with Garrus in his wake.

---

An hour and a half didn’t go very far working through a decade of distance, but it was a start.

“Why do you stay with him?” Kolyat asked when Thane’s comms crackled with a heads-up Shepard and the others were on their way back and he stood. “If... this” --a quick gesture, more a flick of the wrist than anything, between the two of them-- “is so important?”

For you. In more ways than one. “Shepard’s mission is... critical. And there is, unfortunately, a time limit on saving the galaxy.”

Kolyat snorted at his father’s dry humor. “Right.”

“I will keep in touch,” Thane promised. “Perhaps we can meet again once this is finished. If you would like.” If I survive.

“...We’ll see.” Kolyat was staring at the table rather than him, but Thane would take it.

He nodded and headed for the door. “Very well.”

“Does he have something on you?” Kolyat asked abruptly. “With the reputation Shepard’s made, he doesn’t seem the type honorable people would be following.”

“I have made no claims of honor,” Thane said quietly, hand on the door frame.  “And with  the stakes of mission, some sacrifices may prove necessary.”

“Sounds familiar,” Kolyat muttered.

Thane made no reply, and didn’t look back as he left the room with a cold weight in his chest.

---

It ha been the right call letting Krios reconnect with his son. He seemed more centered, more focused, for having dealt with his baggage. Probably that whole ‘something to live for’ schtick. Shepard only cared that Krios did his job and the mending bond made the kid an even more effective pressure point.

Not that Krios had ever protested. Ever balked. But everyone had their limit, and if he happened to find the assassin’s, it never hurt to have a brute force solution in your arsenal. Especially as they were very close to actually pursuing the Collectors through the Omega 4 relay.

“Just a few more tests,” Lawson assured him. They wanted it to work right, after all. It’d be a real short trip otherwise.

“So,” he asked Krios, “out of morbid curiosity, who wants me dead?” There were plenty of options, he wanted to know who wanted it badly enough to hire an assassin. And it wasn’t like he currently had anything better to do with his time. 

Krios cocked his head, a flicker of what might have been amusement crossing his face. “I cannot tell you, Shepard.”

Shepard snorted and arched a brow. “Client confidentiality?”

“Client anonymity,” the drell corrected.

“You let some faceless coward point you at a target with my body count?”

“As you know, I am dying,” Krios said in that implacable tone of his. “Odds of survival were... far from troubling, as a factor.”

“And odds of success?” Shepard retorted.

This time there was definitely a small smile before Krios schooled his expression neutral. Not mocking or cocky, just... amused. “There is a first time for everything.” The faint amusement was gone when he locked eyes with Shepard. “How will we handle this, commander? When we are finished our mission, assuming we both survive, and I resume my contract to kill you?”

“Feel like giving me a day’s lead?” Shepard grinned sardonically.

“I could be persuaded,” Krios said. He shifted in his chair. “Let us see how things progress, shall we?”

You’d never know to look at the man he’d been... convinced to help with this by threat of harm to his son. He seemed perfectly at home, posture easy. He didn’t talk to the crew much, Shepard knew from EDI, but it was hardly surprising an assassin was accustom to solitude.

As if summoned by his brief thought of her, a glowing sphere materialized on the AI kiosk. “Shepard, Miss Lawson wished you informed that the IFF installation is in its final stage. For the shakedown we will need complete access to the Normandy’s systems, so it is recommended you use the shuttle for whatever you plan to undertake next.”

“Got it,: Shepard tossed in vaguely the direction of the AI. “That’ll make things tight,” he muttered to himself. He had something in mind that would likely need the whole team. They’d fit in the shuttle, but it would be tight. Last thing he needed was Lawson and Jack killing each other before they even hit the Collector base.

Krios was eyeing him with curiosity. “Commander?”

“Gear up,” Shepard said, heading for the door. “Got a search and recover that might take all hands.”

The assassin nodded and pushed to his feet, heading for his locker. “Very well.”

---

Their mission went well. Things on the Normandy in their absence, not so much. Shepard left a fully-staffed state of the art warship an returned to a picked-clean husk manned only by his pilot and the now-unshackled AI.

The Collectors had bloodied his nose, cost him his crew. Again. He’d had it.  “Ship’s not getting any more ready than it is. Joker, head for the Omega 4 relay.”

“Aye, aye,” came the determined, hungry reply.The pilot was probably even more eager than Shepard to punch back at the bug-eyed bastards.

Unlike Joker--and probably the others--Shepard viewed getting the crew back as a secondary objective to taking out the Collectors. The threat they posed to humanity ended now.

Get us there was his order, and that didn’t change when they came out of the relay having to dodge starship wreckage, or when they were harried by drones, or even when a fucking occulus busted into the hold.

“Krios, Massani, with me!” he barked, rifle in hand, listening to the scrape and thud of wreckage and lasers ricocheting off the upgraded hull on the way to the bowels of the ship. By the time they had trashed the occulus, Joker had them past the debris field and the drones, and a new problem had arisen.

New, but familiar--the same Collector vessel that he had encountered numerous times before. But this time, the Normandy had sharper teeth. “Let ‘em have it!” he ordered, a command Joker follow with alacrity Darting, looping, dodging, the pilot had them dancing around the larger ship, deftly avoiding the beam that had been their destruction before.

The surge of satisfaction at destroying the vessel was short lived, as it erupted in a fireball more than large enough to knock the Normandy into a crazy, barely controlled descent that could more bluntly be called a crash.

“Everyone alive?” Shepard checked over comms. When that was affirmative, he followed with, “Assemble in the CIC.”

This was it. A quick rundown of schematics pulled from the vessel and what he expected to find inside, a victory whatever it takes reminder, and it was time to go.

---

Than prayed silently to Amonkira as they disembarked from the Normandy. Let our hands strike true, and victory be worth the cost. There would be a cost, of this he was sure. He was familiar enough with Shepard’s methods by now there was little room for doubt. If I am among that cost, please guide my son, that his steps may trace a better path.

He wondered, if he should fall, whether his client would hire someone else to complete the task of killing Shepard or if they would let it go. He hoped it wouldn’t come  to that. He wanted to survive, to speak more with Kolyat before the end, but it would be what it was.

They split into groups, Shepard leading Thane and Zaeed, Garrus the rest of them, to serve as distractions while Tali crawled through the vents to let them pass. It was a good call; the Collectors swarmed thick enough any other plan would likely have been overwhelmed by the sheer number of them. They were not given the luxury of time for sighting in targets, so Thane stuck with his pistol--and occasionally biotics--firing, reloading, firing, with the odd interruption to scrounge more thermal clips because he’d run out.

Shepard’s back and forth with Garrus and Tali was just background noise, like the beating wings of their foes, as Thane gave his focus to the task at hand.

Tali stumbled out of the vent just as they finally reached the heavy doors barring the end of the hall. She beelined for the access panel, teetered as a couple shots ricocheted off her shields.

“Get it open!” Shepard barked as the three of them wheeled to give her cover fire. “Vakarian, where the hell are you?!”

“Almost there, a group of the bastards ambushed us!”

A Collector dove toward Tali and Thane shot it--rushed, imperfect, but the grazing shot knocked it off course long enough for him to try again. This time, it fell and did not rise again.

---

The sense of urgency, pounding Hurry, hurry, hurry through Shepard’s veins thrummed louder as the door beeped and started to hiss open. A muffled burst of gunfire reached his ears a handful of seconds before Vakarian and the others came into view, hauling ass down the passageway toward them.

“Massani, Krios! Through the door!” He rattled off a stream of cover fire, driving the Collectors to hang back for a second. Just a second. But it was enough time for the second fire team to reach the end of the passage and dart through the door.

Krios and Massani maintained some cover fire from the far side of the door, buying breathing room for the others as one by one they darted through the door. Lawson brought up the rear, her barrier shimmering out as the doors groaned on closing.

“They’re stuck!” Tali bit out, shoving one door with scraping, grinding protest along its track. Shepard and Lawson ducked through the narrowing gap just as a final shot slammed into Lawson’s shoulder and sent her stumbling.

“I’m fine,” she ground out, slapping medigel on the injury as the group of them shook off the adrenaline to register what the room held.

The walls were lined with dozens, hundreds, thousands, of the Collectors’ pods. The dingy yellow glow throughout the room spoke to them all being occupied.

Movement caught Shepard’s eye and he swung his rifle toward the potential threat. it was just one of the nearby pods; the dark-skinned, dark-haired woman inside stirred, pounding against the transparent canopy in a futile attempt to escape. Even as Tali and Krios rushed forward to try and free her, the pod hummed and the woman only had time for a single terrified scream before she simply... liquefied into a sludgy brown paste which drained away almost before his crew had time to recoil in horror.

“Commander! Over here!” Taylor fumbled with a nearby pod until a very disoriented figure tumbled out. “It’s the crew!”

That broke the horror that had frozen them, and the group surged forward to free their comrades before the same fate could befall them.

Chambers. Daniels. Donnelly. Gardner. All of them were here, as Shepard ran a mental roster, but Chakwas was the one to explain. Near as she could tell, the humans in the pods were being reduced to genetic material and ...piped elsewhere in the base through tubes, though she wasn’t sure where or why. That sounded like where they needed to go.

“We need to get them out of here,” Taylor said, hovering near a few of the engineers as they stumbled to their feet.

We don’t have time for this. “You wanna take them back, be my guest,” Shepard returned brusquely. “We need to destroy this base, but we can mange without you if it’s that important to you.”

“It is.” Taylor’s voice was firm as he tugged Chambers’ arm around his shoulders and herded the crew back toward the Normandy. “See you on the other side, Commander.”

---

Thane almost offered to accompany them; it was a lot of people for one man to safeguard. But Shepard was already snapping orders for the next stage of their infiltration. He’d be taking Garrus and Zaeed, sheltered from the overabundance of Seeker swarms by Jack, down the shortest route that followed the tubes. “The rest of you follow Lawson on the other route EDI indicated, draw some of the flying bastards off.”

Forward, then. Thane checked his reserve of thermal clips, made sure his pistol was undamaged, and fell in with the others as the door hissed open and they pressed on.

They hadn’t advanced far when the first Collectors appeared, drones and a small number of husks that were easy enough tot pick off. Their numbers only increased as time wore on, but that was the point wasn’t it? Draw them here, so Shepard could get through. Thane stood shoulder to shoulder with Tali as their squad advanced, shared his thermal clips when hers ran out first, lent what strength he could to the biotic barrier Samara had summoned to protect their backs.

“There’s a lot of them, Shepard!” Miranda hollered into comms when they were forced to take cover from a particularly large group, dotted with abominations and led by a scion.

“Good!” his reply crackled back underscored by gunfire. “Keep them the hell off us! We’re almost there!”

She hissed a quiet curse, then, “Yes, Commander!” Her fist flared blue and a pair of husks flew off the edge of the path. “Samara, push them back on three!”

The justicar nodded and the rest of them by unspoken agreement turned their focus to give the women cover fire.

“One!”

Strafing fire raked Grunt’s armor and he bellowed a laugh as he shot back. Thane admired his defiance.

“Two!”

The barrier Samar had been maintaining shrank inward in preparation. Amonkira, guide their strength.

“Three!”

The combined power of two gifted biotics exploded outward in a wash over overwhelming ozone-scented blue. Just as it slammed into the descending Collector horde, a heavy, white hot pain tore into Thane’s arm and side. 

He was dimly aware of Miranda yelling for them to move, of a hand closing around his bicep to drag him with them, of his legs moving to keep up until the gave out and he was hauled over someone’s shoulder instead. There was  rushing sound in his ears and it wasn’t until it was it was punctuated by gunfire and Miranda hollering at Shepard they were under heavy attack Thane realized it was Collector wings and not the lure of unconsciousness.

“Give us a minute, Lawson!”

“We don’t have a minute!”

Shepard’s curse was broken by static. “Vakarian, get that door open! Now!”

Time was fuzzy with the pain that swirled fresh at each jolted step of whoever (probably Grunt) was carrying him, but it still seemed an eternity before, muffled, he could hear someone calling an encouragement.

He slammed against something and the pain flared so white, for a moment he saw Irikah’s face. There was a dull murmur of voices, then a spike of numb shot through the pain and spread, blanketing, pushing back until he was aware again.

Tali knelt beside him, her omnitool just closing down as he became conscious of her presence. “Good, you’re still with us.”

“Thanks to you,” Thane rasped. He passed one hand gingerly over his injured side. The healing wound was large, like from a plasma- or other energy-based weapon rather than bullets. He could cope much better with bullets.

“You are welcome,” Tali said, pushing to her feet and offering him a hand up.

Thane accepted, but leaned against a wall once he’d gained his feet. It would take a few minutes for the medigel to truly do its work. He cast a surveying glance about as he waited. Mordin was limping heavily, Grunt, Garrus, and Zaeed all had significant battle damage to their armor....

And Miranda lay still, half-slumped against a wall, pistol resting in her limp grasp. Shepard knelt next to her, blood streaked in his stark white hair, but stood even as Thane’s gaze landed on them. “She’s gone,” he confirmed, as if there was any doubt. He half-turned, hand rising to his ear, expression flint-hard. “Got it, Joker.”

Garrus’ mandibles clicked. “The crew?”

“They made it back.” Shepard shoved a new clip into his rifle. “Taylor died getting them there.”

Thane grimaced. He should have gone along. 

“It happens,” Shepard said, as if he’d caught the self-reproof without even looking. “According to EDI, this next room’s the core. Vakarian, Massani, you stick with me, the rest of you cover our asses.”

He didn’t wait for agreement or confirmation, just strode to the console for the necessary door and and punched in the command to open it. Garrus and Zaeed followed silently, the former briefly locking eyes with Tali before the three of them disappeared down the hallway.

---

The rest of them hastily arranged themselves in a defensive perimeter, gazes and weapons trained on the two doors that separated them from the Collector forces.

Thane said a rushed but heartfelt prayer to Kalahira for their fallen, working the fingers of his injured arm to test the medigel’s progress. It would do.

The sheer number of Collectors made the task a difficult one--more than once Thane feared running out of clips for his pistol until a brief pause between waves allowed them to scavenge and share from the fallen. This sort of sustained firefight was far from his normal milieu, but this close to the end he was still determined to do his best.

They held as battle chatter from Shepard’s squad broke through the static. They held even though Mordin fell and Legion fell and Jack nearly followed, snarling and spitting curses as she struggled back to her feet. They held until Shepard’s order came over comms, “Move if you don’t want to go up with this place!”

Then they ran, Samara and Jack shielding them from as much as they could, the rest picking off the bolder Collectors even as they ran. They reached the Normandy, adrenaline surging as they gave Shepard’s squad cover fire until they were aboard as well. Joker had them rocketing toward the relay before the doors had fully closed, and the whole ship seemed to hold its breath until they were safely through.

---

As the adrenaline wore off, all Shepard wanted to do was sleep. But he couldn’t. Not yet. There were things that needed to be settled first.

Krios was in the medbay, sitting serenely still as Dr. Chakwas more thoroughly treated the nasty, half-healed burns on his side and forearm. (In sharp contrast to Jack, who was glowering and cursing about both having to sit still to let her injuries heal and being around so many people.)

“Looks like we both survived,” Shepard said without preamble. Chakwas took the unspoken cue and moved off to see to Jack.

“Indeed.” Krios didn’t move, hands folded in his lap as he sat on the edge of a bed.

“You make up your mind about that head start?”

Krios chuckled. “I believe my recuperation will be a bit more than a day, Shepard. A good time for me to visit my son, I think, and a good head start for you as the contract resumes.” His lips twitched to a small smile. “Perhaps my client will reconsider in light of your actions.”

“Doubt it,” Shepard snorted. “I get the sense their beef with me is personal. Doesn’t lend itself to rational decision making. We’ll see, I guess.” Stranger things had happened, but he wouldn’t be holding his breath.”I’m not going anywhere near the Citadel, in case the Council gets any bright ideas about me or my ship, but we can drop you on Omega before we head off.”

Krios nodded solemnly. “A fair arrangement.”

A less intelligent person might have wondered--hoped--leaving him on Omega injured was as good as a death warrant, but Shepard had seen him fight. It would take more than a set of already-healing electrical burns to put Krios at a disadvantage against the thugs on Omega. (And if they did happen to prove too much for him, one thing less for Shepard to worry about.)

“We can have you there in an hour or so,” he said. “once the doc’s done with you go get your things together.”

Krios inclined his head. “I shall.”

---

It had been a while since he was last on Omega and Thane hadn’t missed it in the slightest. Fortunately he wouldn’t be here long. Passage elsewhere was easy enough to  procure, and from there he could work his way to the Citadel. He could take some time to mend more fences with Kolyat before he resumed his hunt.

That was one thing about Shepard; he was never a hard man to find.