#gonna be honest though the bandages on the arms are there just cause they look cool /HJ

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

I’m loving Mark and Sarah’s designs here! Though, I am curious on what’s up with the bandages around Sarah’s neck? If that’s not spoiler related.

Oh, just some scratches, that's all.

[tmnt-fun]

Raph Adopts The Mud Dogs(Chapter 1)

Depending on how well this does I'll keep writing it :)

Word count- 1289

The mud dogs were a… pretty well-known bunch. They’ve been doing a lot of stuff, breaking the law, and stealing things from people. You know, just… standard lousy things. About a year ago, they met this guy, said he was someone else, was not that person, course.

And they got mad. 

Of course they did! They got lied to, why would they NOT get mad about that? They tried to kill the guy, blah blah blah, shit happened. Honestly? Dastardly Danny seemed the most hurt by it. He trusted that big green freak and what happened? He got his back stabbed. 

Malicious Mickey seemed pretty bothered too; he trusted the guy as well and it felt weird to know that he was being lied to that whole time. He really thought that they could have been friends. Loathsome Leonard tried to get them to calm down, who cares? Ain’t like that guy was ever gonna come back, but… yeah. 

They were all pretty down in the dumps for a bit after that. 

Ha! At least Loathsome Leonard was back to being the leader. The boy in blue is always the leader! Like he said. They shoulda listened to him in the first place, then that wouldn’t have happened…

Though, sometimes, they have to be honest. They did think about that red guy, what was his name again? Eh, whatever, didn’t matter. They did sometimes think about him. Malicious Mickey thought that his plans of evil were really good! They were strange and seemed thought up at the moment but dang, if they didn’t get them a lot of money and a place to stay. 

Now they have a new place to stay!

In jail… again.

Malicious Mickey was sitting on the bench, his tail pulled up his head rested against it while his fins were wrapped around, hugging it to his chest. Loathsome Leonard was walking back and forth in front of the bars, punching at them every once in a bit. He was pretty pissed at himself for getting them caught! How was he supposed to be a good leader if he gets himself and his group caught? Dastardly Danny was just laying on the bed his arms behind his head, staring up with a small frown on his face.

They tried to break out when they were caught; yeah, didn’t work very well. Got shot at, Dastardly Danny had bandages wrapped around his arm to prove that. He didn’t get hit, just grazed, but that was enough for him to be pretty dang pissed right now. 

The other two knew not to talk to him when he was like that. Not that he would be mean to them or anything, more just he got overwhelmed sometimes. Dastardly Danny sighs and looks over at Loathsome Leonard and sits up on the bed, holding his ankles with his legs crossed. “Ey, stop banging on the bars. It ain’t helping and it’s giving me a headache” 

“You shut your mouth hole, it’s gonna work” What would? Banging on the bars? Yeah, that’s gonna help a lot. Loathsome Leonard punches at the bars again then hisses, holding onto his hand his eyes shut tight. Damn it! Malicious Mickey looks at them, frowning, then turns his head down and moves his fins over his head to cover where his ears would be.

He hated it whenever they got caught. 

The two of them started to bicker, Loathsome Leonard and Dastardly Danny. They argued more often when they were caught, they just butted heads sometimes. Dastardly Danny was overwhelmed and Loathsome Leonard disliked being in tight places.

While they were bickering, one of the guards came over to the cell and stood, with their arms crossed. Most likely waiting for them to stop their bickering. She was a fox, three tails though. She taps her foot on the bars, “Hey” she said to get their attention. 

The three turn their heads quickly at the sound, and Loathsome Leonard squints, “What? Can’t ya see we’re busy here?” He snapped, which causes Dastardly Danny to push on his arm, muttering, “Shut up and listen to what she’s gotta say” Loathsome Leonard snaps his teeth at the other one, something he did when he was annoyed which made the other roll his eyes. 

"Right," she starts, "Well you three are lucky, someone's come to bail you out" That was confusing, who would do that? Big Mama might have? But why would she go and do that? 

Malicious Mickey stands up, moving over, "Who did that?" he asks. 

"Raphael, like I said... very lucky" she turns, walking off which caused Loathsome Leonard to snap, "Hey! Don't walk away from us while we're talking to you, chick!" 

She ignored him which made him huff and puff. Annoying! He turns to look at the other two, "Do you guys know who this Raphael fella is?" They both shake their heads, Malicious Mickey holding his fins together in front of him. They were both confused... well all of them were!

That was until there were footsteps and a very, annoyingly, familiar voice, "Hey guys..." 

Loathsome Leonard slowly turns his head to look at the person that was talking. That big red turtle was there, holding his arms behind his back and looking at them with a little nervous smile. 

“You little-” He runs at the bars, reaching out to try to grab him, “Get over here!” Dastardly Danny blinks then frowns and walks over, pulling him away, “Leonard, what are you doing? He’s the one that got us outta here” his eyes shoot up to look at Raph, who was frowning.

He sure has changed, got taller, one of his eyes was… pinkish? Sharper pupil. Weird. 

“Don’t care, I’mma beat him!” He goes limp in Danny’s arms though, panting softly to try to catch his breath. 

Raph sighs shaking his head and he walks closer. “Look, guys, I’m doing this cause I feel bad for what I did earlier, I shouldn’t have lied to you three.” He puts his hands together, smiling, “Raph’s gonna help you three get out of the crime life”

That made the three of them start to laugh, thinking he was joking… he was not. 

And that’s how they were now walking out with him, he had the key to their cuffs and they knew that they wouldn’t be able to get out of these easily without that key… they figured hey, why the hell not try to work with Raph for a little while, up until he decided that they were good enough to take off the cuffs. 

Then they would leave. 

Malicious Mickey seemed to be having a hard time walking. Raph looks over his shoulder at him, “Hey, you need a little help?” When Malicious Mickey squinted at him, he corrected himself, “Do you want some help?” 

“How’d you help me?” he asks, annoyance in his voice. 

“Uh… try not to shock me, aright?” he asks, then walks closer and gently scoops him up in one of his arms making the other two blink then snicker while Malicious Mickey’s face went a bright color, “Hey hey hey!” he waves his arms the best that he could; a little embarrassed. 

Raph laughs and looks forward, “Don’t worry, it’s just for now. I won’t drop you” The eel huffs but relaxes, grumbling under his breath as he looked forward. It… felt weirdly nice to be held like this, most wouldn’t even bother trying cause, you know, the fact that he could shock. He could control himself pretty well! Just… not all the time. 

Loathsome Leonard and Dastardly Danny started to tease him all while he was ignoring them. He had the high ground now, boys. 

[thewritersofdeceased]

guys I finished the story >:))!!

(Ik one of my sillies wanted to know it so :D @local-ginger-snap )

INTRODUCTION STUFF FOR TUMBLR

REX WOODSTONE ;; QUEENS OC ;;

TRIGGER WARNINGS ;; SUICIDE

SONG ;; MY R

JUST AS I WAS ABOUT TO TAKE MY SHOES

OF OF THE ROOFTOP THERE I SEE

A BOY WITH DARKER HAIR HERE BEFORE ME

DESPITE MYSELF I GO AND SCREAM.

“HEY! DON’T DO IT PLEASE.”

Rex wasn’t lying when he said he was gonna do it. When he was gonna join his oldest brother in the afterlife. His boots were off as he stood on the rooftop of the parking garage, staring at the figure in the view of his eyes. He didn’t think he’d call out to a random person. As if trying to reach for this figure and to get a solid sounding answer. But why did he care? He couldn’t care less either way. To be honest? He was pissed, because he missed the opportunity to do it. To join his brother. He stared at the back of the figure’s head, jet black hair, just like his own. The figure never once turned to look at Rex, but yet they spoke their story. “You’ve probably heard it all before. I really thought that she might be the one, but then she told me, she was done.” Rex held an annoyed expression at this as he stared at the figure, who seemed almost a bit shorter than he was now. Now, as a junior, he stood at around 6’2, maybe a little taller. This boy was around 5’8, so he assumed. Speaking with a cold tone, his voice never went down to a whisper. “For god's sake, are you serious!?” How did someone with such a stupid reason get there before him? “Are you upset cause you can’t have what you wanted!? You’re lucky you never got robbed of anything!” He shouted at this figure, venom lacing in his tone as the figure took a glance back at him. Though the figure had tears forming from their eyes, they only smiled at Rex. “I’m feeling better, thank you for listening.” Though even with Rex listening and saying his own opinion, the figure with jet black hair had disappeared.

The next day, he swore he’d do it. Rex swore he was gonna join Dean. Today’s the day, or so he thought, just as he took both his boots off. He stood in the same spot he had just a day prior, a smile on his face. A smile, even if he knew what he was doing would lead to friends upon everyone. But that’s okay. They’ll all be fine without him. Turning to walk towards the spot he’d seen before, he had paused. Another figure. Another one similar to him. This boy had a bunch of bandages on his body, but mostly his arms and around his chest. He was confused. How could someone get up here again? Despite himself and how BADLY he wanted to get all of this done and over work. “Hey! Don’t do it, please!” He’d call out again, catching the attention of this figure. Everytime the figure, both this one and the day prior, every time they’d look at Rex, their faces were never… seen. Like they were blurred out. It was weird to the ravenette, who now stared at the figure, who once again began to explain their story. “You’ve probably heard this all before.” They started, lifting their head and looking at the sky above them. “Everyone ignores me, that stupid bitch steals! I don’t fit in with anyone here.” Again, Rex’s annoyed expression never disappeared. Now there was a slight trace of anger as his eyes remained fixated on the figure. When he went to speak again, Rex sounded about ready to murder this idiot. Taking in a deep breath, his tone was much more harsh and violent this time. “FOR GOD’S SAKE, PLEASE! ARE YOU SERIOUS!?” He snapped, which had resulted in the figure jumping slightly from the yell. “I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE THAT FOR SOME STUPID REASON YOU GOT HERE BEFORE ME!” Rex had begun to pace as he snapped at this figure. For what? “‘CAUSE EVEN SO, YOU’RE STILL LOVED BY EVERYONE AT HOME! THERE’S ALWAYS DINNER WAITING ON THE TABLE, YOU KNOW!” Just like the last figure had, this one looked back at Rex, tears spilling before they spoke. “I’m hungry.” The boy said as he shed a tear. Then just like that, he disappeared.

Just like that, there would be someone everyday. People would tell their tales and Rex would listen, just for them to turn away. Yet he knew something. Nobody would do the same for him. No way was there a way to let out all this pain. Days and days passed as he waited for the perfect time to do it. About a week or so later, a Sunday night, he stood on the roof of the parking garage again, his boots off as he began making his way towards the spot he said he’d do it. But again. There was someone there. Someone waiting for their own chance to jump now. Someone all too similar like him. This boy had jet black hair, such as he did. Jet black hair, a black t-shirt, ripped jeans, a leather jacket and boots. The figure looked back at the other boy, giving a small smile before they had looked back towards the ground below, the sound of cars rushing by. “I just wanna stop the scars that grow, everytime that I go home.” The figure started to speak, the hiccuping from the tears that began to fall catching them mid-sentence. “That’s why I came up here instead.” They finished their sentences short. But that’s what the boy in the leather jacket said. Wait a minute, what the hell was he saying? Rex couldn’t care less either way. This wasn’t his issue. But in the moment, he just screamed. Something even he couldn’t believe. “Hey, don’t do it please!” He was realizing maybe he couldn’t help this person like he had the others. He couldn’t stop this boy, now that is new. For once? He thought he bit off way more than he could chew. “But even so! Please just go away, so I can’t see! The pitiful expression is too much for me!” Rex would’ve requested, looking away from the figure with a shaky tone, and shaky breathing. It was clear he was bound to break and cry. The figure looked back at Rex, letting the tears flow again. “I guess today is just not my day.” They would speak, and then just like the ones before them, would disappear.

Finally, A day where nobody was stopping him. Like the weeks and days before, Rex stood on the very top of the parking garage, listening to the streets down below. It was just him on the rooftops. Finally. Nobody would bother him. Nobody would stop him. Taking off his black boots and placing them down by his bike, where his lovely bike was, he was debating on really doing this. Sam, his second oldest, would be alone. But it wasn’t like Sam really liked him. At least in the back of his mind, Rex thought Sam hated him. He thought Sam would’ve loved to be alone. So that’s exactly what the middle child would get. Rex continued to listen to the streets below, the sound of cars driving past, the conversations that he couldn’t even make out. People… caring about other people… why didn’t anyone come up to care about him? Was he that easy to forget about? He knew he was an asshole and everything, but was he really easily forgotten? As these thoughts lingered in his mind, Rex would continue to take any accessories or such off. Taking off his leather jacket, the one thing that he never took off unless he was piercing someone or giving someone a tattoo. His boots were already off, so no need to worry about those. His jeans were ripped, just like the ones the boy the other day had been wearing. He slipped off his spiked wristbands, placing them on top of his leather jacket and right next to his boots. He’d be able to run now. Run towards the edge. He had to do this. He layed it off so many times. Now he couldn’t. Now he had to do it. Just him. Himself. Rex was by himself. His hair was a mess, both from the bike helmet that rested on the seat and the fact he was high above sea level. No one who could interfere. Making his way towards the edge of the rooftop, there was a couple seconds of silence. . .

Before he jumped.

[rotshop]

GONNA B HONEST W/ YOU ,,,,,, i rlly dont like how this is written lmao ,,,, but also im sleepy tired so i get a pass dhmu /j

[ TW ; gore, some violence, death ]

notes ; based offa DIS ,,, u might wanna read it for some context n shit ,,, lawl ,,,

-

Between the two of you, it's hard to tell who's suffocating more. It's hard to tell if its you, with the little pants that pass by your teeth in shaky steps, hitching whenever they're cut down when you have to stop to cough up blood. It should be you, you who has your guts spilled out onto the floor and your blood staining all the concrete underneath the both of you. It has to be you, who's leaning heavy against 2b's chest and drawing unfocused circles onto his shoulder. It had to be you, you just had to go inside by yourself, you just had to be slow on the draw and nearly be ripped clean in two. It just had to go wrong with just you.

Even with all that in mind, he feels like there's nothing in him. There's no lungs to draw in breaths, no mind with clear thoughts on what to do and how to stop this once more, and certainly no heart beating steadily. In those places was instead viscera, a mangled, nameless mess of pink and red weighing him. There was some clump of pink that drew in some shaky puffs, barely reaching him as he choked on his own pride. There was nothing but tangled strings and weights in his head, making his skull pound as something in the back of his mind screamed to do something. There was a heavy weight behind his ribs that stayed put, a finality hanging over his shoulder as it always would.

He doesn't want to cry. He shouldn't be, you're the one with your innards exposed to the eyes of any and all and your face buried in the crook of his neck, it should be you who's crying in pain. He shouldn't be crying, he shouldn't be shedding tears when there's not a single bleeding wound on his skin. He shouldn't be and yet they're tight in his throat, threatening to tumble past his lips and create an embarrassment of himself. A shift brings him back from his thoughts, turning his attention back to you.

There's a little stutter in your movements, a quick pause as your vision momentarily fails you and your breath is wheezed past your lips. A quick, aimless grasp at your innards to have them follow your movements, rather than stay partially stuck to the floor, tugged further from your soon-to-be-cadaver as you readjust. You're just pulling yourself ever closer to him, little to no space left between the two of you as you support yourself on his figure. He can't help the way his own movements choke and pause as he moves his arms to wrap around you. He can't help the way he takes a sharp, shaking inhale as the skin of his arm ghosts over the start of your gash.

He remembers the first time he'd been with you in your 'final' moments. He remembers how the line had fallen dead on your side and the others all fell into a silence. They'd only told him later on why, they 'didn't want to scare him off.' He was still a little upset about it, even now. He had always been stubborn like that, it was a fact of him that you regarded with warm laughter and endearing teases.

He remembers the pure terror that'd gripped him as he came across you, choked squeaks and hisses leaving your lips as you writhed. The debris around you and the tangle of pipes and bars you'd been impaled on told the story he never bothered to ask, the one he'd never truly questioned you on even to this day. Something about the way you'd glanced at him in that moment never left him. Maybe it was how the pure agony you'd been in moments before shifted to confusion on his being there, shifted into something gentler yet still as forlorn and miserable, either way it haunted him endlessly. He remembers how you were such polar opposites after he'd managed to tear himself from his place.

The clatter of his goggles against the ground fell on deaf ears when he'd rushed for you. He barely even noticed how quick his breath was speeding up, he was far too focused on helping you, on getting you back to base so he could fix this. It'd taken your weak swipes at him and breathless pleads to just stop to snap him back, he didn't want to listen to you. He wanted to tear you from that metal and drag you back to base, he wanted to set you down and get to work, and then he wanted to grab you by the collar and ask just what was going through your head. He wanted to be mad, he wanted to argue and to let go of all the tension wracking him and making his hands shake. It was tearing him limb from limb in the worst way possible, in the one way he never wanted to feel.

He was afraid. Honest to god terrified from the moment his gaze fell on your bleeding-out form. It shook him to his core in a way he hadn't felt in forever, breaking past the facade he'd worked so hard to build in an utterly humiliating manner. He hated the way he had to clench his hands and bite his tongue as he stared down at you, his weak attempt at keeping his tears back that hung by a thin string. He hated how he fell to his knees, coming face to face with you as you looked back at him.

Your eyes were still soft with accepting misery in the moment, a weak smile finding it's way onto your lips as you reached for him. You'd struggled, finding it difficult to meet his face when the world was spinning so dizzyingly. He'd hesitated, hand shaking as it found your wrist, him leaning into your touch with an unsteady breath. If the tears weren't already hanging behind his eyes, they would've burst up with a vengeance when you started brushing your thumb over the bandages on his face.

He couldn't remember how exactly you'd spoken, how you'd been able to between the gurgle of blood in your throat and the copper piercing you, but you had. It was a request ; a final wish of sorts he didn't want to deny you. You could've asked for anything in the moment and he would've done it for you, he would tear through whoever and whatever he had to for you. He would rend flesh and ruin relationships and scar the world if he had to in that very moment. He'd never been an especially generous type, he could extend a certain amount of kindness to others but there was a limit to his softness. Yet, you managed to turn him so, managed to make him give an excuse of 'it wouldn't hurt,' or 'it's just a one time thing,' when it came to you.

Even so, you'd made such a simple request. One he would've asked you himself in other circumstances if he weren't so stubborn with what little ego he clung to. One he would've been happy to hear from you in the comfort of home and privacy. Even so, he'd nodded when you asked. Even so, he'd ignored how his own hands shook as he held his over yours gently.

It was an odd feeling, your blood seeping into his mouth, iron heavy on his tongue as his lips met yours. The taste would've been revolting under any other circumstances, making him recoil and pull away with a note to never repeat the cause. Yet, he didn't. He kept his lips against yours gently, experience slipping him in the thick anxiety of the moment. Even then, reluctance followed when he pulled away.

Content lost its footing when you'd given him once last smile, then it fell with a crash when your gaze grew glassy and unfocused. He'd never forget the panic that gripped him so tightly, enough of a disturbance to slip past his guard and make the tears start to fall. He didn't even notice them in the moment, all he saw was your corpse and the end of the compassion and emotion you'd helped him regain over time. He never asked the others if they heard him then, if they heard him plead with you, if they heard the sobs and begs he never would've given if it weren't you. He's glad they never brought it up, it was just a touch easier to forget how he'd completely broken down for the first time in a long time when you'd fallen still.

He was glad you weren't able to hear them. He's sure you would've made some dumb comment about it as you stood before him, alive and well as though nothing happened. He's sure you would've smiled and hummed a question he wouldn't answer, he's sure he would've reacted all the same. He's sure he still would have grabbed you by the collar and shoved you back against the wall, he's sure he would've still hissed at you to explain yourself, ignoring the desperation laced in his voice as his eyes began to burn again. You had an effect on him, one he wouldn't ever admit to even if you poked and prodded at it time and time again by simple virtue of you being yourself.

You were a surprisingly good kisser for someone on the brink of death once more, but you were better at it when you could count how many of him there were.

He's not sure what pulls him back as he looks down at you again, noting your still form blankly. He's not sure why he pauses for a few long moments, simply keeping his arms around you as your body grows colder and colder. He's not sure why he tucks hair behind your ear and lets his hand linger, warm by contrast against you. He's not sure when he pulls himself up off the floor, careful of your innards as he pulls you up with him.

He is however sure he feels a hell of a lot better when you sit up from your previous place on the table, hand trailing over the stitches that line your stomach and chest as you give a little hum of approval. He's sure he's smiling a little at that simple bit of praise. He's sure you'd make a comment about it if you noticed.

"Happy to see me, huh?"

He's happy to be right.

[collecting-stories]

Strawberry - Daryl Dixon

Request: Hi love! I adore your daryl dixon works and i was wondering if i would be able to request a scenario where you risk your life to save a baby that you found and daryl’s reaction (you still survive but it was a narrow escape) to your maternal instincts? 

A/N: I think I went a little off course with this one. To be fair, I tried it out three different ways and settled on this so hopefully it’s good. 

The Walking Dead Masterlist

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

The atmosphere at camp had taken a relatively negative turn after you’d gotten back from the run with Daryl. It didn’t help that you were injured, cuts so deep on your leg that if Daryl hadn’t vouched for them being caused by barbed wire you were sure Shane would’ve shot you on the spot, convinced you’d been bitten. Hershel had to stitch you up and you could hear Andrea bitching the entire time, voice carrying through the door, that this was all a liability. You, your recklessness, your injury, and, most importantly, the baby that you were holding on your lap for the entirety of Hershel’s work.  

A little girl without a name, she was wearing pink corduroy overalls with strawberries embroidered into them. The run, which should have been routine, had taken you and Daryl further into town. He’d been spending a lot of time looking for Sophia but when Glenn injured his ankle on a run, Rick nominated you and Daryl to head out in search of supplies.  

“When I told you to bring back whatever you could find,” Rick said, watching the baby skeptically, “I didn’t mean a baby.”

She was little more than five months old you guessed, trapped in a car seat in the back of an old Volkswagen that Glenn told you hadn’t been there when he passed through before. “Must’ve been other survivors, travelling through the area.” Everyone seemed to have an opinion on the baby and on your decision to save her, at great personal risk to yourself, but you tuned most of them out. Aside from situationally, most of these people weren’t ones you would ever actually spend time with and you didn’t care if the Andrea’s of the world passed judgement on your personal convictions.  

“How’s she doing?” The only one who had been surprisingly without criticism of your actions was the one person you had expected to admonish you for being reckless. Daryl sat down on the porch steps beside you, crossbow on his lap.  

You had seen the baby trying to outrun a hoard of walkers and get back to Daryl’s bike. She was inside the car, crying, and you had doubled back for her, nearly killing yourself when you caught your leg on a bundle of barbed wire from a downed fence. Daryl had cut it from your leg, part of your jeans ripping off with them as he pulled you and the baby to safety. He’d been the one to bandage you enough to get you back to the farm too, not a word to you the entire time.  

In all honesty, you were waiting for him to be angry. Maybe not yell because you hadn’t really experienced him yelling at you before, but certainly had heard him go at it with Shane a few times. And you expected something, at least a “yer stupid” but so far he hadn’t said anything.  

“Alright,” you shifted the baby in your arms and placed the empty bottle down between you and Daryl, “she finally ate.”

He nodded, glancing over at the baby as you laid her against your chest to burp her. “Yer good with her, ya got any experience with babies then?” He asked, more than you’d talked to him since Merle went missing, presumed dead. Probably more than you had spoken to him before that too.  

“I was the middle kid of nine,” you replied, “babies are pretty much part of my wiring. I always thought I’d have one.”

“Got one now.”

You laughed, maybe the first honest one since you’d wound up in Atlanta. Daryl wasn’t one to joke around and that, partially, had thrown you into the minor fit but, more over, he was right. As judgmental as Lori and Andrea and Shane wanted to be, this baby wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. None of them would as you to do that.  

“I guess I do.” You finally said, “I’m sorry for getting us all mixed up, by the way. I wasn’t trying to jeopardise your safety.”  

“I ain’t some heartless bastard, not gonna ask ya ta leave a kid ta die.” He replied.  

“Still, thought you’d have something to say about it. Everyone else seems to.”  

“Yeah well,” his hands worked to clean the crossbow and he paused his speech for a moment, full concentration on the weapon in his hands. He listened for any sign of footsteps or the possibility of somebody that might overhear the conversation. “Shane woulda just as soon shot ya both in the back.”  

“That’s true.”  

“Everybody’s losing that bit of ‘em...it’s good ya still got it.” He said quietly and you nodded because you understood what he was trying to say. The same thing that had him out there looking for Sophia had propelled you back to the car. And if he had seen the baby first he would’ve done the same thing.  

The baby made a quiet heaving noise before something akin to a giggle and you laid her on your thighs as you reached for the spit blanket that Maggie had given you. Daryl reached a hand over, steadying the baby she didn’t roll off your lap, the infant cooing at him and grabbing at his fingers.  

“I looked through her diaper bag,” you finally said, adjusting her again so she could sit up, facing her out to the yard and letting her look around at everything. She seemed transfixed with Daryl, reaching out for him and clapping her hands together when he gave her his hand back. “There’s no name or anything on it…not even on her tags.”  

“I ain’t good at naming things,” Daryl said, as if sensing that was why you’d brought it up. “Stray cat used to come in our yard ta eat and all I called him was kitty.”  

“Yeah…I’m gonna pass on naming her Baby.” You joked, “just figured since you were there when I found her.”  

“She’s all yours,” he replied hastily though he had set his crossbow aside to play with her. Not going so far as to take her off your lap but keeping her occupied, holding her attention.  

-

You pushed open the door to the jail cell, sliding the curtain out of the way as you slipped inside, surprised to see Daryl sitting on the bed in your tiny room, the baby on his lap. You had put her down for a nap only thirty minutes earlier, heading outside to check the snares with Rick and had come back in to make sure she was alright.

“Beth asked if I’d check on her,” Daryl said, not even looking away from her as you shut the curtain and pulled the chair over. “Said Judith was fussing.”

“Thanks, sorry I was out in the field...guess I shouldn’t be leaving her with everyone else if I’m the one who’s supposed to be taking care of her.” You joked. Lori was gone now but the admonishment had been from her. That if you so desperately wanted this baby around than you should be the one to care for her.  

“Ain’t just a job for one person.” Daryl replied, “she ain’t hard to take care of anyway.”

“That’s cause she likes you.” You observed. His cheeks flushed and he bowed his head, almost bashful at the thought and you just smiled like you hadn’t noticed his sudden behavior, turning your attention to the baby.  

-

“Frazier,” the little girl rocked back on her bottom, giggling when she met Daryl’s shins and tilting her head back to look up at him. Her knees and the palms of her hands were stained from the grass that she’d been tearing through.  

She smiled, rocking herself forward so that she could clumsily stand up, turning swiftly to face Daryl again as she reached her arms up for him. “Daddy!” The moniker was new, ever since Judith had started talking, calling Rick ‘dada’ when she saw him, Frazier had decided that she, too, required a dad. And, naturally, she had decided that it was Daryl.  

He shouldered the crossbow he was carrying and leaned down to scoop her up, doing his best to ignore the name. You’d suggested that maybe the term would die out as she got a little older but so far it was sticking and, while Daryl made like it bothered him, it didn’t really. Taking care of the baby, who you’d named from your mother’s side of the family, had seemingly brought the two of you closer. Or at least it had created a reason for Daryl to stay close to you. Looking out for the baby, as he always put it.  

“She’s been waiting all day for you.”  

Speak of the devil, he turned toward the house to see you coming out to greet them, still pulling a hoodie on to combat the chill that had settled into Alexandria. In the time between Hershel’s farm and now you had seen a lot of bloodshed, lost a lot of people. For a brief moment in time Daryl had been fairly positive he had lost the both of you too, but you had turned up in the woods outside of Terminus, Frazier right there with you.  

“Ya been keeping watch?” He asked, jostling her slightly and being rewarded when she giggled and nodded her head.  

“Yeah, no naps!”  

“Oh Lord,” he muttered, handing her off to you when you reached out for her.  

“Come on Frazier, let’s get some food?” You offered, carrying her towards the stairs. She twisted in your arms, reaching over your shoulder for Daryl as he followed behind you.  

For all the maternal instincts everyone always said that you had, you thought Daryl was just as protective and acutely aware of Frazier, and now Judith, as you were. He was just less obvious about it. Trying to pass it off as indifference when in actuality you had seen that side of him often and in excess.  

-

Taglist: @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare @mainokutan @solllaris @twdeadfanfic @legit-emily @gigilame @sabertooth-potato @enrapturedbythemoon @thanossexual @yespleasejayhalstead 

[whipped-cream-writings]

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

PAIRING: Bakugo x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

WARNINGS: None

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Happy Birthday Bakugo!! <3

“You need to be more careful, Bakugo.”

It was a simple thing to say, and you mean it - you weren’t sure what was driving him, but you knew it was a powerful, powerful thing.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I already heard that from eyebags.”

His carmine eyes seem to be focused on everywhere but you. He stared at informatics for far too long and even opted to watch empty walls.

“Eyebags?”

“Aizawa.” He grumbles, shifting his weight from left to right. “Do I have to spell everything out for you?”

You sigh, “No.”

The nurse's office was cold - it always was, that was standard regulation - but you had gotten used to it. Assisting Recovery Girl wasn’t always easy, considering the trouble that the heroes-in-training always got into.

Bakugo Katsuki had only started to visit more frequently within the last month. It was never of his own accord, either. Friends, sometimes even teachers, would bring him in, saying that he had pushed himself too far.

Every time, he denied it.

He was strange, yet he wasn't unbearable.

“I’m fine. Don't touch me.”

You give him a sharp look. “Don’t lie. Your friend brought you in here, didn’t he?”

“Dunceface is just dramatic as hell.” He grumbles, rubbing his face with the back of his hand. “You shouldn’t listen to him.”

“He's worried about you, you know.” Bruises and cuts and marks line his arms, though he pays no mind to them. He walks and talks as if they weren’t there at all.

How hard was the hero course?

That causes him to pause, and so you push, “It’s hard to see a friend hurt themselves, you know?”

“He shouldn’t worry about me. I don’t need his fucking pity.” He adds more under his breath, nothing of which you can understand.

You get to work, though, warning him that the rubbing alcohol will sting. He doesn’t complain. He doesn’t even wince.

“You gonna do anything other than put bandages on?” His voice makes you jump, and you snap your head up to meet his gaze.

The sunset works in his favor.

His face looks like it’s glowing, the sun reflected in his eyes as he watches you work. His expression is still tight, eyebrows still furrowed, but there’s something you can't quite place swirling in his eyes.

Your noses are only inches apart. When did you get so close?

You can feel his shallow, short breaths on your face.

Why wasn’t he moving away?

“I...” You clear your throat, pulling away. You're finally able to breathe again. “I’m not allowed to do anything more than that. I have to wait until my third year.”

He scowls. “That old hag isn't giving you nearly enough experience. The hell are you supposed to learn like this?”

You can't help but laugh, one gentle and light. Bakugo's gaze is as sharp as a blade, and it's cutting right through you. You redirect your gaze to his other injuries, silently placing bandages on each of them.

“Alright, then. You should be good to go.” You say, rising to your feet and wiping off your pants. “Unless you need something else, that is.”

“I don't need anything.” He mutters, staring out the window. “Took you long enough.”

“You're welcome,” you snicker. “I’ll see you soon, Bakugo.”

As you wave goodbye, he doesn’t bother to even spare you a glance.

He certainly was strange, wasn’t he?

And as he left, you couldn't help but feel the ghost of his breaths on your face.

Bakugo couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He was supposed to be training, studying, working - all of which interrupted by thoughts of you.

It was tiring. Annoying.

You were so close to him. The feeling of your breaths on his face was merely an echo. He found himself rubbing his face every now and then, even his bandages.

Your touch was delicate, sweet. Bakugo’s hands were calloused and worn, rough with sweat and work. Yours were soft, and he found himself imagining - no, wanting - your touch once again.

Even your damn smile was stuck in his head. You were practically glowing in the sunlight, taking time out of your day just to put up with him-

He rakes a hand through his hair.

Fuck.

“Hey, Bakubro, everything okay?”

“What do you want, Shitty hair?”

“Nothing. You just looked... Lost, I guess.”

Bakugo glares at him, to which only an apologetic smile blooms on Kirishima's face.

“I’m just thinking. Mind your business.”

“Alright, alright. You look kinda red, actually-”

“Shut up.” Kirishima lets out a loud, honest laugh.

“Fine, I’ll stop.”

The walk home always cut through a road lined with shops - it was never too busy, only two or three people at most in a store at any given time.

One, in particular, caught his eye. He hadn't noticed it before, maybe because he had no reason to, but the store reminded him of you.

“Oi, Kirishima.”

“Huh? Is something wrong?”

“No. I need to make a quick stop.”

You couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday.

New patients made stops by Recovery Girl's office, and you patched them up. Yet, even first-time visitors could tell something was off.

The more you thought about it, the more you understood why you enjoyed seeing Bakugo.

“Dear, can I trust you to clean up?” Recovery Girl wonders. She always left around noon, leaving you in charge until school got out, and sometimes even beyond then.

“Yeah! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nods, slow and smooth. “Thank you again, darling.”

You wave goodbye, and you let out a heavy breath.

Finally, you were alone.

Today was busy - you were put to work the second you got to school because some kid had taken quite a fall. Students had filed in since then, and you didn’t even have a moment to rest.

“Hey.”

You know that voice.

“Do you need something, Bakugo?”

“Shut up for a second.” You purse your lips.

For the first time, he looks nervous. You shift, sitting on your hands.

“I... bought this.”

He holds out a bouquet.

It’s modest, made of only a handful of flowers. Each one has been planted and tended to with care, tied together with a delicate red ribbon. Most of the flowers are painted with the dying sunset - pink and red blossoms and orange and yellow flowers.

“Eyebags told me to say thank you for yesterday.” He adds, avoiding your gaze on purpose. “Thought you wouldn’t hate it or whatever.”

“Oh. Wow, um... thank you.” You say, giving him that same smile from yesterday. 

It makes his heart leap into his throat, and he blurts out what's burning on the tip of his tongue without so much as a thought.

“Go out with me.”

Shit.

There's silence. Tense, unbearable silence that unfolds like a suffocating blanket.

“I... I’d love that.” You admit. “Unless this is a joke, or something-”

“Don't be stupid.” He's smirking. “Tomorrow. Four. Don't be late.”

“Got it. See you tomorrow.”

The second he leaves the room, an uncontrollable grin spreads across your face.

A date, huh?

You were right from the beginning - Bakugo Katsuki was strange.

Very strange indeed.

[lexacoolfox]

I saw your bio about angel of death too!! May i request nagito X s/o who's like zack!!:D I hope i don't bothering you and have a nice day^^♡♡

Yes finally! Also your not bothering me, and thank you for wishing me a nice day! Your such a sweet heart adelia-Chan!

Nagito with a S/O like Zack!

Now it is modern time, you probably aren’t a murder but you can be, um…problematic.

You liked to beat people up when the looked to happy or mad. It made you feel good.

You obviously laughed like a mentally insane person when you did.

Now on the first day of school you saw a boy with white hair looking way to happy, he looked like a good target.

He noticed you right away and introduced himself with that smile, he sounded so joyful while doing it. That just made you want beat him up even more.

“Hello I’m Nagito Komeada!”

“Hey Komeada. I’m S/O. You got three seconds to run.”

The last part you said with a dark tone. He looked at you confused.

“Um…why would I need to run?”

“Cause you look way to frickin happy, makes me want to beat you up! I like to give people a fair chance to try to run away. As long you beg or scream for me not to hurt you to bad! I love seeing fear on my victims faces! Gets my blood bumping!”

He softly chuckled.

“Oh I’m not going to run away. I’ll let you do it. Come hit me! An ultimate like you hitting trash like me is an honor!”

You stumbled back and leaned by a nearby trash can and threw up.

“Man is something wrong with you. That’s the most messed up thing I’ve ever heard. You not running away or begging for your life. it makes it no fun. See ya later weirdo, I going to class I guess.”

Unfortunately (or fortunately) you both had the same class.

So you really couldn’t escape him, you had to listen to him insult himself and his thing on hope. Which kinda annoyed you.

You interested him and he wanted to get to know you. Like what your hobbies, your goals, or why do you like to beat up people who look happy.

“Is there a reason why your following me like a lost puppy?”

“Your interest me. Just pretend I’m not here.”

You saw a group of girls. They were laughing at another girl. They poured milk on her and laughed even louder. This brought back a memory from your childhood. A very bad memory.

You feel into a rage. You ran and proceeded to beat these girls to the point where they were knocked out. You turned to the girl who they were bullying you held out a hand for her to grab. You helped her getting up, patted her head then walked away.

Nagito followed close behind. You forgot he was following you. You went somewhere quite with a low chance of other students walking by. Then you grabbed him by the neck and shoved him against the wall.

“You better not tell anyone about anything you saw! Or else your gonna end up worse then those girls!”

“Oh I was never going to tell anyone anyway!”

“You better not be lying! I hate liars more than anything!”

“I’m not lying.”

You looked at him in the eyes. He was completely honest. You let him go.

“I thought it was kinda cool to see you standing up for that girl.”

“I wasn’t doing it for her. I was doing it cause it reminded me of something. Something I’d rather forget.”

“Even though, your speed and strength was amazing to see in action. You also held such passion in your eyes.”

You started angry mumbling not because he was annoying you but your were honestly embarrassed, you weren’t used to hearing much praise.

One day your class decided to have a party, you don’t know how they convinced you. But they did, you didn’t listen to the details just the time and place.

The party was a bonfire party.

Once you arrived you were the last one to arrive, they started off the fire. To where you started internally freaking out. Also frozen in fear.

At some point you were escaped into the back of the woods, Nagito noticed and went to follow you. He heard you near by. You found you punching a tree while yelling. You hade to stop cause of your hands

You wore bandages all over hands, shoulder, arms, and up your back a little, from a incident from a long time ago. You heard a twig snap.

“Who’s there! Show yourself!”

“Oops looks like I’ve been spotted.”

“Ugh! What’s with you and following me!”

“Well I noticed you left the party. I just wanted to know why.

He said sitting on a tree stump. You lean against a tree.

“Don’t tell anyone this. But. I’m scared of fire.”

“Oh. Well, how about we go to a near by gas station. We can get some snacks!”

“I don’t have any money.”

“Don’t worry I’ll pay.”

You weren’t saying no to free food. You guys got a couple of snacks and went to a nearby park to sit on a bench.

You actually had a nice conversation with Nagito. You actually were laughing a lot. For the first time ever somebody smile didn’t want to make you beat them up. Nagito smile made you smile.

You developed a crush on Nagito.

You treated him different from then on.

No threats were thrown his way from you. You didn’t mind when he talked to you. Anytime somebody gave him a nasty look for saying something. You punch your hand against your palm as a sign. You often lean against him when he talks to somebody. Anytime he says an insult to himself, you put him in a headlock and start giving him noogies while saying “why do you keep saying that! Do you got some screws loose Huh?!” You could say it’s tough love. Everbody knew you had a crush on Nagito. But you were to dense to notice your own feelings and Nagito was to oblivious to notice your change in behavior. Surprisingly you and fuyuhiko had a kinda Frenemy thing going on. You two acted like you hate each other, which you do. but you two had a lot in common so sometimes you got along. He’s the one to point out your feelings

“When you going to tell Nagito you like him?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“It’s so obvious you have a crush on him. Which is kinda weird.”

“What’s a crush?”

He gave you a shock looked. Then called you an idiot. He explained a crush and then it made sense to you.

“So…how do I tell him.”

“Just tell him. Unless your a chicken.”

“Shut up! I’m not a chicken! I’ll go tell him right now!”

You stomped away looking for Nagito to tell him. You found him being Ganged up by some guys. You beat all of them up. Some puked from your punches, some passed out, some ran away. You picked up Nagito and threw him over his shoulder and started walking away with him.

“Um s/o can you let me down? I can walk on my own.”

“No.”

You went back to your place and threw him on your couch.

“Thanks for saving me back there. I didn’t think you would save me like that.”

You flicked him in the forehead.

“Of course I saved you. I love you dummy.”

He blushed at the sudden confession.

“I love you too.”

You blushed and pulled him to your chest. You cuddle him, so you guys are now a couple.

Here somethings you do now your a couple

You are always touching him in someway, simple hand hold, hugging, leaning against him, just anything works.

Your like his own personal bodyguard.

He helps you with your bandages when you need to change them.

He comforts you when there’s fire.

You give him random small kisses.

Everybody and anybody is too scared to flirt with Nagito.

When you two are anywhere like a booth at a restaurant. You have you arm wrapped around Nagito shoulder.

After a long time. You told him things about your childhood, which he understood and helped you deal with your trauma.

Bonus: for this to make sense. I ship fuyuhiko and Peko.

You noticed how fuyuhiko acted around peko. You and Nagito decided to play match maker.

Nagito invited fuyuhiko to a cafe to hangout. While you did the same with peko.

They arrived at the cafe both texting you asking where you were. Both of you texted something came up with your significant other so you couldn’t make it. They spotted each other and decided to hangout. Just according to plan. you and Nagito where wearing disguises to watch them. Nagito went up to their waiter after he took their order, saying he’ll pay for them.

When they learned that somebody payed for them and the waiter pointed who. They realized it was you two. You practically grab Nagito and made a mad dash for the exit.

Later that night you got to listen to a mad fuyuhiko, while receiving passive aggressive text from peko.

“Why you so mad? I’m just helping you out. I mean you helped me and Nagito get together. I’m just returning the favor.”

“What?! Are you implying I have a crush on peko! What gave off that idea?!”

“A lot of things gave off that idea. C’mon you like her. Don’t be a chicken.”

“I hate you!”

“The feelings mutual. Just go for it.”

“You don’t tell me what to do-“

You hung up. You put your phone on silent and went to sleep. Luckily it was Friday so you didn’t have school the next day. So they couldn’t bother you about it.

[dumbass-extraordinaire]

Duck, Duck, Grief

The newly reopened wound on Aubrey’s thigh throbs dully as she limps away from the base of the ruined Mt. Kepler and back towards the gate.  She hears a voice in the back of her mind, the sensible one that sounds a lot like Duck, telling her that walking on an injured leg is a bad idea and that she’s only gonna make it worse.  A louder, more vicious voice tells her she deserves it.  This one doesn’t sound like Duck.  She ignores them both and keeps walking.  The night air is cold, numbing her exposed arms and face.  Aubrey is grateful for it.  Having a body feels like an impossible task right now.  Thinking is out of the question, because thinking means acknowledging everything that just happened- 

(gone all gone all gone he’s gone he’s gone it’s all your fault why couldn’t you heal him useless you didn’t even try you told him to leave he was supposed to leave now he’s gone it’s your fault)

-and she wasn’t ready.  Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and her ears were buzzing and it was too cold and she couldn’t breathe-

(he’s on the ground his eyes are open he doesn’t see you he isn’t breathing why isn’t he breathing his hands are cold he is never cold he is always warm warm warm warm smile warm laugh cold)

“Miss, are you okay?  Can you hear me?”

There is a voice above her-

(it is not his voice you will never hear his voice again your fault all your fault dead dead dead)

-the voice continues, but it is not talking to her anymore.

“I think she’s in shock-- Oh god, she’s bleeding, oh that’s real bad, aw jeez,” warm hands grip her arms and lift her to her feet.  She doesn’t remember falling to her knees.  That explains why her leg feels like it’s on fire-

(burning burning the house is on fire there is a man in a mask her dad is on the ground burning)

  She is vaguely aware of being half-carried over to an ambulance.  They sit her down, telling her to put pressure on the wound, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.  She does this without comment, cannot open her mouth for fear that the words will come tumbling out and never ever stop.  She does not move.

…

Duck and Minerva had just finished taking down the abomination and were making their way over to Leo Tarkesian and Dr. Sarah Drake when they saw the top of Mt. Kepler lift into the air, then came crashing back down, shaking the earth and causing the telescope to creak and sway a little, which in all honesty was really terrifying.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Duck yelped as the ground shook with the aftershocks of the mountain’s collapse.  He lost his balance but Minerva grabbed his arm to steady him before he could fall over. 

“Duck Newton You Should Be Careful!  Core Strength Is An Integral Part Of Any Hero’s Skill Set!” She exclaimed cheerfully, clapping a hand onto his shoulder with almost as much force as the mountain’s collapse.

“Thanks Minnie,” he wheezed, rubbing his sore shoulder.  Sarah ran up to them, her eyes wide with shock.

“What the hell just happened to the mountain?” she asked, her face pale with fear.

Duck scratched his head.  “Honestly, Sarah?  I got no earthly idea, but we should probably go find out,” he sighed.  “C’mon, we got a ways to go.”

The group of four made their way across the field towards the parking lot, Minerva still giving Leo a piggyback ride on account of his injuries.  When they reached the front gate, Sarah paused and turned to Duck.  She looked as exhausted as he felt.

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, “As fun as this has been, I think I’ve just about maxed out my daily limit for weird.  If it’s all the same to y’all, I think I’m gonna head on home.”  She points to him, “Don’t think this means I’m gonna let you off the hook about this, mister.  I expect an explanation.”

He salutes her playfully, “Yes, Ma’am.  I’ll have that report on your desk by Monday.”

She smiles and says, “See ya around, Newton,” before turning and walking into the night.

Duck, Minerva, and Leo do the same, making their way to Duck’s government-issued truck.  He chucks the extra broadsword into the truck bed, slings Beacon back around his waist, and slides behind the wheel exhaustedly.  A part of him waits for Aubrey to call shotgun before remembering with a start that she isn’t with them.  He’s so used to having her and Ned as back up in life threatening situations that their absence right now is disconcerting.  He’s more than a little anxious to see them again; they’d all been so busy with their own situations the past few days that they hadn’t had much of a chance to hang out.

“What A Fine Chariot This Is, Duck Newton,” Minerva booms jovially, slapping the roof of his truck.  There is the distinct sound of crumpling metal.

Duck squints blearily at her as she squeezes into the passenger seat, mentally cycling through the five stages of grief as Minerva buckles her seatbelt.  He turns the key in the ignition and drives out of the parking lot.

… 

The closer they get to Amnesty Lodge, the more nervous Duck gets.  Not for the first time since the whole Sylvain mess started, he resents Kepler’s location in the Radio Quiet Zone.  Usually he didn’t mind not having a cellphone, but right now he would give just about anything to call Aubrey and Ned and make sure they’re okay.  The herd of ambulances and police cars heading towards the Lodge do nothing to quell Duck’s mounting anxiety levels.

His anxiety turns to dread as he turns onto the dirt road leading to the lodge and sees the crowd of townsfolk gathered in front of the gate, an ambulance parked off to the side.  He jerks the truck to a stop and jumps out, not even bothering to take the keys out of the ignition as he scans wildly for his friends.  Minerva moves to follow him, but he stops her, telling her to watch out for Leo.  Things are complicated enough without throwing an honest-to-fucking-god alien warrior into the mix.

When he finally does see Aubrey’s colorful shock of dyed hair, it is both a relief and an extra source of stress.  A relief because she’s alive, and a source of stress because she’s sitting in the ambulance.

Duck rushes over to her, his heart dropping into his stomach as a list of every worst case scenario runs through his head.  Someone found out about the lodge, someone went through the gate who wasn’t supposed to and went on a rampage, Agent Stern arrested someone, someone got hurt, someone got killed.  At least Aubrey is okay.  And while he doesn’t see Ned anywhere, Duck isn’t too worried about the old guy.  He’d survived ramming into a Pizza Hut sign with a jetpack, as well as the explosion of said jetpack immediately afterwards.  The man was damn near unkillable.  He skids to a stop in front of Aubrey, his momentum almost causing him to crash into the side of the ambulance.  He takes her in, noting the bandage on her leg and the shock blanket around her shoulders.

“Y’okay, kid?”  He asks, “Aubrey?”  She doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at him or even seem to register his presence.  

That’s his first clue that something’s wrong, because he’s seen her like this before, after the whole ordeal with the Pizza Hut sign.  The hollow, haunted expression on her face is nearly identical to the one she’d worn that day.  It scared him then and it scares him now.

“Aubrey,” he repeats her name.  “C’mon kid, ya gotta talk to me.  I just got here, I’m way outta the loop.”  Nothing.  She just keeps staring blankly ahead.  He crouches down in front of her, waving a hand in front of her face to get her attention.  Again, nothing.  Shit.

He stands back up and starts pacing, raking his hands through his hair, “Aubrey!”  He snaps.  The longer she stays unresponsive, the more nervous he gets, “I need you to say something, kid, you’re fuckin’ scaring me!”  Try as he might, he can’t quite keep the panic from bleeding into his voice.

Finally, finally, she looks up at him, and his heart breaks.

Aubrey looks absolutely wrecked.  Her eyes are bloodshot and ringed black with smeared mascara and eyeliner, her face blotchy and tearstained.  Disconcertingly, both her irises are a bright, piercing orange.  Duck figures this is something important, something he should ask her about right away.  He doesn’t, though, because he couldn’t care less about whatever earth-shattering event made Aubrey’s eyes change color.  He doesn’t care about all that world-saving, chosen one stuff, and he never has.  He cares about people, his people, and right now that’s Aubrey and Ned.  They’re the Pineguard, his family, and he would rather die than see them hurt.

“D-Duck,” Aubrey whimpers, her voice fragile like his ma’s best china.  “Duck, I couldn’t…h-he…”  She shatters, then, curling in on herself as she sobs.

“Hey now, uh,” Duck has never been good at comforting people, especially when they’re crying.  But this is Aubrey and she needs him, social anxiety be damned.

He sits down next to her on the tailgate of the ambulance, shifting so that he’s almost facing her, and puts his arms out, “Do you-- Ooph!”  Before he can finish his question, Aubrey collapses against him, sobbing into his shoulder.  Duck freezes for a moment, unsure, before wrapping his arms around her.

“I-It’s all,” she hiccups, “it’s all m-my fault, Duck, I-I couldn’t…”  She dissolves into sobs again, too distressed to continue.  Her shoulders shake with the force of it.

Duck pats her back awkwardly.  “Aw, Aubrey, I don’t know ‘bout that,” he says, “I don’t think-- don’t blame yourself, kid.  I’m sure you did everything you could.”  Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because she starts crying even harder.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he just hugs her tighter instead.  He hates himself a little for that, wishes to god that the words didn't stick in the back of his throat like old gum on the underside of a picnic bench.  Aubrey hiccups, and Duck rubs her shoulders soothingly.  He’s never seen her like this before, never seen her this broken.  Sure he’s seen her cry, seen her upset, but never like this.  Something is very, very wrong, and Aubrey’s clearly in no shape to tell him what, so he scans the crowd for someone who can.

Finally, he makes eye contact with Jake Coolice.  Which, okay, not exactly ideal, except for the fact that he’s standing next to Mama, who’s engaged in conversation with Detective Maygen.  Duck jerks his head towards the matriarch of Amnesty Lodge, hoping Jake picks up what he’s putting down.  The neon-cloaked Sylph looks confused, and he points at Mama and mouths her name in a silent question.  Duck nods emphatically.  Jake smiles and gives him two thumbs up before tugging on the sleeve of Mama’s duster to get her attention.  The older woman turns to Jake, who points in Duck’s direction.  She squares her shoulders, like she’s preparing for battle, and makes her over to the ambulance.  

The first thing Duck notices is how tired she looks.  The second is the blood on her shirt and hands.  

His blood turns to ice in his veins, “What the fuck happened?” he demands, “Are y’okay?”

Mama sighs, her whole body moving with it, “It’s not mine,” is all she says, and her shoulders slump in something a bit too much like defeat for Duck’s taste.

“Whaddya mean, whose is it then?” he asks, panic setting in.

She exhales softly through her nose.  “Duck, honey, I’m real sorry,” she begins, “now I don’t want you blaming yourself for this, ‘cause it ain’t no one’s fault.”  Mama pauses, looking up at the night sky before running a hand down her face.  There is dried blood under her fingernails.

“Whaddya mean, Mama, what happened?  What don’t ya want me blaming myself for?”

She looks pained, “Duck, sweetheart--.”

“No!  Don’t baby me, I aint a fuckin’ kid,” he snaps.  “What. The. Hell. Happened.”

“I-it was Ned.”  The response comes not from Mama, but Aubrey.  She pulls aways from Duck, exhaling shakily and wiping her eyes.

Duck stares at her.  “Whaddya mean, did he get hurt or somethin’?” he asks, pretty sure he already knows the answer to that question and hoping to god that he’s wrong, “Aubrey?”

She shakes her head.  “No, uh,” she takes a shaky breath, “Shit, I can’t do this.  Mama, uh, can you explain, please?”  Her voice trembles as she gives the older woman a pleading look.

Mama gives her a sad smile, “Sure, baby.”

“Thanks,” Aubrey sniffles.  Duck puts an arm around her and she buries her face in his shoulder.

Mama takes a deep breath, “Duck, ya said ya didn’t wanna be babied, so I guess I better just say it outright.  Ned ain't hurt, honey.  I’m so, so sorry, Duck, but he’s dead.  Ned’s dead.”

The words hit him like a punch in the gut, leaving him breathless and gasping.  

That can’t be right, Ned can’t be dead.  Ned ‘Cowardly’ Chicane, the only one of them with any sort of self-preservation instinct, the guy who just the other day had assured Duck that he didn’t need to worry about him getting hurt because he quote-unquote, “knew when to get the hell outta Dodge” was dead?  No way.  This had to be to work of the shapeshifter, or some sick practical joke.  It couldn’t be true, because if it was, it would mean Duck had failed.  It would mean that something happened and he hadn’t been there to take the big hit.  It would mean that Ned had taken the hit instead.  And he can’t handle that.  What’s the point of being the “Chosen One”, the so-called savior of the planet if he can’t keep the people he cares about safe?  

“Duck?”  Mama’s voice cuts through the haze of grief and shock clouding his brain.  He doesn’t respond, “You with us?”

He wants to argue, wants to break down and scream at the injustice of it all.  But he doesn’t, because he’s not the only one grieving Ned’s-- he’s not the only one affected.  Aubrey’s here too, huddled against his side like a barnacle on the hull of a ship.  God, she’s so young, still just a kid, really.  She shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.  She shouldn’t have to deal with this at all, truth be told, but that’s not in the cards.  The least Duck can do is be strong for her.  He’s good at being strong.  So he pushes aside all his grief and anger and self-recrimination, packing them away in a cardboard box in some dusty corner of his mind to deal with later.  Aubrey comes first.

He takes a deep breath, “Yeah, Mama, I’m with ya.”  He runs a tired hand down his face, “What, uh, what happened?”  His voice trembles right at the end.  He clenches his jaw.  

Mama glances ever so slightly at Aubrey.  “I’m fine,” is all the young woman says.  Mama looks to the night sky, as if hoping the stars can tell her how to make this easier.  Whatever she was looking for, it isn’t there and she faces Duck once more.

She does that thing again, squaring her shoulders like she’s getting ready for a fight, “The Abomination, it took Ned’s shape an’ then spilled the beans about everything on television.  The lodge, the gate, Sylvain, all of it.  That’s why all these folks are here,” she gestures to the crowd of townspeople.  

“Ned, he killed it and came down here to try and divert ‘em, send ‘em on a wild goose chase.  It sorta worked, actually, he got rid of about half of ‘em.  He starts talkin’ folks down, tryin’ to get the rest of them to see sense,” she laughs bitterly, “And it mighta even worked, too, ‘cept then the glowing coffin shows up and out pops Dani.  And she’s all feral, completely outta her mind after being separated from the hot springs for so long.”  

Her mouth presses into a thin line.  “And then she, well… She charged these here folks, and Ned, he tackles her.  Thing is, you get a buncha scared folks with guns in one place, well, someone’s bound to get hurt.  And tonight, that was Ned.  He got shot, and by the time the ambulance got here it was too late.  There wasn’t nothing any of us could do,” she looks over at Aubrey when she says that.  “And that’s… that’s the whole story.  I’m sorry,” she gives him a sympathetic look, “Y’alright, Duck?”

Duck says nothing, just nods sharply.  Because how do you respond to something like that?  What do you say when someone’s been ripped from your life and you can’t remember the last thing you said to them?  What do you say?  What can you say that would be enough to encompass the raw, gaping wound that takes the place of your heart, the way your stomach drops, when you think of all the things left unsaid?  What do you say?

As it turns out, “Let’s go home,” is a pretty good start.

[helen-high-water]

Bloodborne bosses and how angry they are:

(before starting please note that I'm basing this solely on the limited amount of information I have on each boss, Bloodborne lore is confusing and I have forgotten a lot of it,also these are in the order of the wiki page,also I am aware some of these bosses may not even be able to feel human emotions but that's not gonna stop me)

The cleric beast:

MA'AM UH SIR OR MX WHATEVER YOU ARE PLEASE CALM DOWN AND STOP SCREAMING (VERY ANGRY, lovely screams tho)

Father Gascoigne:

He's angry but he's allowed to be angry cuz he's a dilf (very angry, thought I wasn't attracted to him then I heard the beastly howls)

Viscar Amelia:

I'll be honest I liked you more when you weren't a monster the size of a movable house with a shit ton of bandages? ribbons? whatever it is it's very hauntingly beautiful though (angry,she has a normal amount of angry but not a normal amount of beast unfortunately)

Blood starved beast:

it's just hungry,I think if we give it enough blood it'll just become a puppy, unfortunately it's hungry and the only blood around is yours(Hangry,Less meat flaps please)

The witch(es) of hemwick:

I do not enjoy the clusterfuck of eyes you coat yourselves in, I think they may be slightly angry but they mostly just want eyes(Slightly angry, Please wear normal clothes grandmas)

Dark beast Paarl:

it's a puppy! Skeleton puppy! skeleton puppy with lightning magic!angry skeleton puppy with lightning magic! (Angry,love it's zap zaps,would make a wonderful pet if it wasn't murderous and electrifying,oh also being the size of a small building doesn't really help)

Shadow of Yharnam:

They might be a bit busy being snakes to be angry,also probably a fight that might cause me to go insane if I were to do it(angry snakes?maybe?)

Rom the vacuous spider:

she's not angry, she's just disappointed (HA mom joke) , She's too nice to be angry at you but throwing meteors and sicking her children on you is fair game(not angry,Love and hate your name)

The one reborn:

put it back in the moon please,the definition of creepy and wet, whatever birthed this monstrosity should've considered an abortion,has 4(I think?) Adoptive witch mothers and none of them make it less bad(it's a fucking moon baby it doesn't know what anger is)

Martyr Logarius:

Santa is not doing well,and he's going to make sure you know that by kicking your ass into next Friday (angry, please stop floating it looks weird)

Amygdala:

what kinda fucked up giant enemy spider are you,why did you rip out your arms , couldn't you just hit me with them without ripping them out?why are you named after a brain part?(angry,stomps a lot)

Celestial emissary:

what even are you supposed to be,you 're kind of blueish so that makes you less angry,but also you look like there is a huge egg where your brain should be,I don't like you (not angry, please stop existing)

Ebrietas, Daughter of the Cosmos:

she's just lonely,she doesn't even attack you without you attacking her first, poor child (not angry,She looks like she has a giant clam for a head)

Micolash host of the nightmare:

who's crazy twink is this,he's way too crazy to feel anything other than utter chaos(not angry,needs a shower)

Mergo's wet nurse:

now I wouldn't say she's angry on account of the fact that she doesn't even have a body,or at least one we can see,she looks very calm but she's still gonna slice you like a lawn mower specifically made for hunters(not angry,very spooky,love the theme)

Gehrman the first hunter:

legit the first time I read your name I just said "is he German" ,grampa off the chair what will he do,he's not angry he just wants you to leave the dream (for some reason?) (Not angry,cool scythe)

Moon presence:

depending on which ending she can be very angry or not angry at all ,if you leave the hunter's dream she probably doesn't even aknowledge your existence after that,if you beat Grandpa G and you don't have enough umbilical cords in you she's not angry too,but if you want to turn into a slug you have to make the moon angry,very flowery, please don't bite my stomach that hurts (not angry/angry)

Ludwig the accursed holy blade:

is your name an oxymoron (I don't think I'm even using that correctly) starts out very angry but then calms down a little, unfortunately for you that means he's stronger (very angry then not angry, Horse man very cool,very cool sword)

Laurence ,the first viscar:

It's literally just the cleric beast but on fire , still very angry though(very angry, someone get a fire extinguisher,or don't idk)

Living failures:

if I see one of you fuckers make a "ha same" joke I'll send you to the shadow realm, they're not really angry,but they sure as hell want to ruin your day, pretty star magic though (not angry,what happened to your heads why are you deflated)

Lady Maria of the astral clock tower:

Probably my favorite boss,but she's not angry, she's way too tired to be angry,her anger has burned and burned and burned and left her empty,she needs some rest, although similarly to Ludwig,her being not angry just makes it worse for you (not angry,Badass lady with swords , wonderful, please don't stab yourself)

Orphan of kos:

ah yes Kos,or as some say kosm gr- *gets hit with a placenta*,You really should've listened to Lady Maria when she said "a corpse should be left well alone" because this baby knows only three things

1) Something killed it's mother

2)you are something

3)unending violence

The angriest thing in the game,how is your placenta so solid,not even therapy can make it not angry (VERY ANGRY, Stop screaming you butterfly looking MOTHERFUCKER,Very fair reason for being angry I would say tho)

And that's it,if you disagree with any of these please consider the following:

Suck my ass/j

[darthkruge]

Could you do an imagine where Anakin comforts an insecure reader

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Insecurities 

Summary: Anakin comes home to find the reader drowning in their own insecurities and does everything he can to make it better.

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: Heavy talk of insecurities, including the reader feeling insecure about their body, personality, relationship, basically themself in general. A little bit of blood and some injuries but nothing major. Angst to fluff, I’d say?

A/N: Hi anon! First off, I hope you’re okay. Secondly, thank you for requesting! And ofc I’ll write this, comfort fics are my shit! I tried to get this request out as quick as I could and it did take a tiny bit longer than I wanted, but I wanted to do it justice. Also, y’all are beautiful and perfect and I love each and every single person reading this. If anyone ever needs anything, I’m here always. If you wanna talk or vent or just share some of your thoughts, I got you. 

(not my gif)

It was just one of those days. You weren’t a stranger to them but, nonetheless, you always felt unprepared when they hit. The feeling where you wanted to crawl out of your own skin, your own mind. Where regardless of what clothes you wore, you hated how you looked. The thoughts were the worst part, telling you lies that felt terrifyingly like truths. 

You’re worthless. You’re unlovable. You’re ugly. Everyone else can see it. They all know. No one really wants to spend time with you. You’re annoying. You’re stupid. You’re a bad person. 

The thoughts spiraled and spiraled and spiraled until you were lost in your own head. When it came to this, you frequently fell. It was too painful to hold onto your consciousness and fight it, so you let go. The thoughts continued as you curled back up in your bed, in the apartment in Coruscant that you shared with him, the one that normally brought you such comfort, and stared blankly at the wall. Tears streamed down your face and you didn’t even have the energy to wipe them away. 

Truly, the worst part was feeling so defeated. You were a strong Jedi and you took your training seriously. You’d fought in countless battles, you should be able to handle one in your mind. You wished you were strong enough to fight against these thoughts. The shame you felt around your insecurities only made you feel more alone. Instead of reaching out on days like this, you just forced yourself into silence. 

You were especially afraid to tell Anakin. Your beautiful, perfect, kind, loving boyfriend. He didn’t deserve to deal with you. He had enough on his plate, it wasn’t his job to comfort you because you weren’t strong enough to deal with your own shit. You were scared that once he saw how you viewed yourself, he would come clean and admit to seeing you the same way. I mean, you were so obviously hideous, how could he not see it, too?

Meanwhile, Anakin was finishing up a training session in the Jedi Temple. Normally he’d train with Obi-Wan, but today he wanted to focus on himself. Honestly, he was a bit distracted. Since he had a busy day today and you had the day off, he had to leave before you woke up, which he absolutely hated. He loved being there when you woke up and cooking breakfast for the two of you. You’d been dating for a few months and he was truly shocked that you’d kept him around for this long. You were everything he’d ever wanted. 

He realized he was smiling as he thought of you and decided to reach out with the Force to be reminded of your presence. He knew it wasn’t what the Force was supposed to be used for but he honestly couldn’t help it, he missed you. You were a comfort to him and he liked to check and make sure you were alright. 

Anakin’s brow furrowed as he searched for you. Normally, you were meditating at this time and he could feel a sense of serenity and contentment around you. Today, however, he was met with pain. Pain, and fear, and hatred, and sadness, and anguish, and loneliness. Anakin braced himself against the wall, stumbling back at the severity of your emotions. Right after, he composed himself and took off in a run, trying to get to you as quickly as possible. 

“Y/N? Y/N?!” Anakin yelled, bursting through the door. He was immediately taken aback when he noticed that all the lights were off. Walking quietly, he heard your sobs coming from the bedroom. He went in and felt his heart shatter. There you were, his angel, curled under the blankets, sobbing. He looked around and noticed the mirror in your room smashed. He walked over and gently placed a hand on your back, trying not to startle or upset you more. 

You looked up at him and started crying even harder. He pulled you into his arms and noticed how you fell limply into his chest. The fight seemed to have extinguished from your eyes, causing him to hold you even closer. Your arms weakly surrounded his middle as his hands stroked your back and gently combed through your hair. 

You felt lost and trapped, the world around you fuzzy and distorted from the tears. Even so, you felt him. You breathed him in, inhaling his comforting scent and feeling his warmth. He helped you ground yourself, the broken wails eventually quieting into soft cries. Anakin didn’t try to shush you, he just whispered reassurances into your hair, let you get it out, and held you. “I’ve got you, love. It’s alright, get it out. I’m here, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

You listened to those affirmations as you sagged into him, taking a few more minutes to just lay there. Softly, Anakin pulled you away from him so he could study you. You saw his face contorted with worry and immediately felt guilty. Great, Y/N, now you’ve made him upset. Fuck, he doesn’t deserve this. Why did I have to be so fucking needy?!

Your thoughts were interrupted by him. “What happened, angel?”

“I-” You trailed off, not sure what to say. “I just had a shit day”

You could tell he knew it was more and, feeling vulnerable under his intensely caring gaze, brought your hand to move the hair out of your face.

Quickly, you heard Anakin take a sharp inhale of breath before grabbing your hand. Ouch. You looked down and noticed the cut on the back of your hand. It had mostly dried by now, thankfully, but the pain from punching that mirror earlier was definitely still registering. 

He wordlessly went to the bathroom and brought out some gauze and anti-bacterial medicine. When he returned, his eyes drifted to the mirror and you saw him putting the pieces together. He spent a few moments in silence, his expression downcast. He worked quickly, bandaging you up and collecting his thoughts. “Why?” He asked, softly.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t stand to look at myself anymore” You whispered, wiping away some residual tears from your eyes. 

“Y/N, you’re gorgeous, love. Please, angel, please look at me.” He cupped your face and moved you so you were in his lap, making sure you heard every word. “You are truly the most breathtaking person I’ve ever met. You’re ethereal.”

Anakin’s voice was quiet as he told you these things. Quiet, yet powerful. Almost as if it was the gentle caress of his innermost thoughts. Completely honest and raw, yet too intimate for anyone to hear except you.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry your brain is lying to you. That must be so hard, fighting against your own mind. Baby, you’re brave. You’re so, so brave.”

You were shaking your head, “Ani, no, no I’m not. I’m not brave, I didn’t fight. I let them consume me. I was drowning and I couldn’t breathe until you came in. I couldn’t anchor myself at all, I was so weak” You said, disgusted with yourself. 

“Shh, shh, Y/N, listen. You are strong because even though you felt the weight of everything on your shoulders, you didn’t drown. I know you felt like you would, but look! You’re here. You didn’t drown.” He took a second to pause, kissing your forehead lovingly. “Do you want to talk about what brought this on?”

“If I tell you, promise you won’t think differently of me?”

“I promise. Nothing could change how I feel about you.”

You inhaled deeply, hands shaking slightly. Ani took them in his own, steadying them while looking at you deeply. “I’ve been dealing with some shit for a while and I think it all kind of caught up to me today? I hate how I look, Ani. I look in the mirror and I can’t handle it. That’s why I broke it, I just, I couldn’t. And then I was just thinking of how you don’t deserve to deal with someone like me. You shouldn’t have to come home after a day of training and deal with my breakdowns. I know I should have told you I’ve been feeling like this. I just was terrified. I was terrified you’d agree with me. I’m terrified you’ll leave me. I’m terrified you’ll wake up and see how you deserve so much more than the shitty fucking messed up person I am.” You trail off and meet his eyes, tears glistening in both of yours, “Ani, I’m so terrified” You finish, voice wavering. 

Anakin rests his forehead against yours, pressing kisses to your hands. He lets his eyes close and tears fall down his cheeks. He couldn’t believe you were in this much pain and he never noticed. You were the love of his life and he felt like he’d failed you if you feel like this. 

“Y/N, I’m not gonna leave you. I’m not going anywhere. You are the best person for me, hell, you’re the best person in the entire fucking galaxy. Everyday I wake up and think about how lucky I am to call you mine. You’re smart, you’re kind, you’re compassionate. You’re stubborn as hell and I love that about you. You challenge me and you’re a damn good Jedi. You’re strong, stronger than anyone should ever have to be. Your heart inspires me everyday. Simply, you’re good. And I know I said it a bit earlier, but I’m gonna say it again. You are stunning, love. Truly.” Anakin said, pulling away so he could really see you. 

“Look at your legs! They’re so pretty, baby. Especially when you jump up and wrap them around me after I get home from a mission? That’s the best feeling in the freaking world! And your stomach! You always let me rest my head on it when I’m tired and I know you think it’s weird but it’s such a good angle because I can lay there and play with your hands. And, baby, your arms!! You give such good hugs and you when wrap them around me?? It makes me feel safe in a world full of chaos. And at night when you use them to curl into me, or when we’re dancing together? Fuck, I just love them.”

Anakin trailed off for a second. He held your face in his palms and you leaned into their warmth. “And you’re face, Y/N. It’s just so perfectly you. When I look into your eyes, I know I’m home. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. I don’t understand how you can hate your body when it's the body that makes me feel like I’m going to be okay. You make me feel like I’m going to be okay. I’ve always felt so out of control, so lost. But you ground me. Please, come to me if you ever feel like this again? You are not a burden or a messed up person. You’re everything. I’m here for you. I know my words won’t fix anything overnight. Even so, I promise you, I will repeat them everyday until you believe them and, after that, I will continue to remind you until my last breath.”

You hugged him and nuzzled into his chest, overcome with emotion. “I’m trying Ani, I’m really trying. It’s not easy for me to come to people when I feel like that but I promise I’ll try.”

His arms tightened around you and he placed a kiss on the top of your head. “That’s all I could ever ask of you, love. Thank you for being willing to try”

“Thank you, too, for talking me down today. It doesn’t normally get that bad. Some days are worse than others, you know? But you really helped me. I love you more than anything. I love you for loving me when I feel unlovable” 

“I will always be here to remind you how deserving you are of love, happiness, and every other positive thing in the universe. I love you, too. I’ve loved you for years, I love you now, and I’ll love you forever”

Anakin hadn’t really let you go since he returned to the apartment. He was naturally a protective person and hated to see you hurting. He was so soft, so comforting. Although vulnerability is always hard, he made it so much easier. You knew he would always validate you, comfort you, and be there without judgement. He was everything you could possibly need and more.

Eventually, your breathing evened out as he rocked you in his arms. Anakin layed you back under the covers and went to pull away to sweep up the broken mirror’s glass. As he attempted to release himself from your arms, you whined and only tightened your grip on him. Anakin smiled and chuckled quietly, laying down and pulling you on top of his chest. You hummed contently and he placed a few more soft kisses onto your hair, your forehead, your shoulders, everywhere. You were his top priority always and he wanted to keep you safe physically, mentally, and emotionally. He could never deny you comfort, especially not in this state. After waiting a few more moments to ensure you were truly at rest, Ani closed his eyes. The glass could always wait until tomorrow...

[mettywiththenotes]

320 bits I wanna talk about

Iieda looks like he’s doing the *inhale* before the BOI IF YOU DON’T- meme. Something along the lines of “BOI IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR ASS BACK TO UA-” kind of thing lol.

He holding something in definitely. Maybe charging up for an attack? Idk but he sure seems concentrated

Actually, Iieda seems kinda considering. Maybe he’s weighing up if he should join in the fight, as if he’s asking “Will I have to fight Midoriya, if it comes down to it? Or can the others handle this?” Something tells me he doesn’t want to have to weigh in on the fight. Maybe tear into Izuku verbally, but fight? No I don’t think he wants to do that

But also, I find it interesting that that black panel of text is under him and then it cuts to Bakugou yelling at Izuku. I mean, it could very well be Bakugou thinking that, but if that’s so, then why is Iieda the first person we see?

So, I think it’s Iieda thinking that. Tensions are rising, it seems. I’m expecting his turn to be full of a lot of emotion, or at least trying to get across to Izuku that he feels betrayed but mostly just wants Izuku to come back home.

I don’t really know what’ll happen with Iieda exactly, but I’m totally interested to see what happens

I know Bakugou has problems with his emotions and words and stuff, but I also think here he’s trying to anger Izuku in order to get him to fight back, maybe so he’s more angry than flexible in a fight, so the end result would be Izuku getting too angry to predict anything and eventually tripping up, and that’s when 1A could capture him.

The one thing to remember about Izuku is that allowing him to think is going to be the opponent’s downfall. We saw in the Kacchan VS Deku 2 fight that Bakugou knew this and so kept attacking as much as possible so Izuku wouldn’t have time to think. Which worked, because Izuku is great at analysis, so making his “Win” attitude [getting competitive therefore putting more energy into attacking than strategy] come out over his “Save” attitude [you’re my friend and I want to help you] is kind of a weakness of his. That’s kind of one of the reasons he lost that fight.

Then again, maybe Izuku has improved since then? I don’t really know but I think enough time has passed for him to have maybe improved more on that so idk we’ll see

I really love Bakugou’s expression in that bottom screencap lol

His wound!! All bandaged up!! I wonder if there’s a scar there or smthg :O

LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I know Enji or Bakugou probably gave them details about the multiple quirks but I still find it wild that everyone just knows now

KOUDA! MY SWEETHEART! I’m glad he’s getting a part in this too, along with Sero. Two of them who didn’t really hang around Izuku but still want him to come back :’)

Sero and Black Whip! Finally! I mean it’s not much but it’s still better than nothing

Also, seems like Sero is trying to taunt Izuku to get him to attack him maybe [same as Bakugou feeding into Izuku’s competitive side] soooo idk Sero following Bakugou’s lead? Maybe :)

Look at how,,,, innocent Izuku looks,,,,, *head in hands* AND SERO TEACHING HIM!!

I knew this lil moment would come bite me in the ass at some point, I knew and yet I’m still tearing up goddamn

That “I thought she was going to tell me its a useless hobby” bit really drives home how Izuku’s friends are 1A, that he loves them and they were the only friends he’s ever had [except Bakugou but he was a bully at the time so I’m not really gonna count him for back then]. HOW many people before UA had gone around and told Izuku his taking notes hobby was useless? SHOW me the people!

I, mettywiththenotes, will NOT allow anybody to slander one of my own!

I know it’s like the only moment Izuku and Ojiro shared, with the sports festival thing, but it’s still really sweet that Ojiro sees that Izuku stood up for him

*head in hands*

Shouldn’t this kid be more worried that he’s likely going to get kidnapped?

“Yeah this super evil villain guy has decided he wants to kidnap me and take me away, but like nbd guys really, that’s why I left in the first place! So I wouldn’t be a burden!” Somebody get this kid a fucking therapist or some shit

This is kind of a chilling and pretty scene though. The rain falling above Izuku and him looking down with these piercing green eyes likely being the only light between them. Good stuff.

Satou! Aha I like how he’s pulling all the stops, such as “I WON’T LET YOU BORROW MY INGREDIENTS FOR ERI!”

Also let’s appreciate that Satou caught Ojiro and Jirou and managed to land on a freaking traffic light. The balance on this kid! Very well done

Kaminari putting Izuku in a headlock! How cute :)

Be cuter if they weren’t trying to subdue a martyr-complex cryptid from killing himself, but still

Does Shouji have some kind of support-item?? Or could he always do the stretchy thing?? Or I guess maybe he’s just stretching his arms out like branches [like he usually does] and using them as more like a capture weapon rather than his usual stuff. I don’t think we’ve ever seen him use his heteromorph body and quirk for anything other than the 5 senses, though I could be wrong

Also Shouji remembering what Izuku said at the training camp, I’m so glad! Shouji always seems like the kind to be so protective over his friends, so I’m glad he remembered that. Then again, Izuku did compare them to freaking ALL MIGHT, but if the nice analytical kid in your class who knows your limits and strengths says you could basically beat A GOD, then that’s definitely one for the memory scrapbook lmao

“It’s nice and dark here, Dark Shadow.” Who said that?? Kami or Izuku?? I just have this mental image of Izuku being shrouded in darkness and trying to keep his eyes open from falling asleep haha

Tokoyami remembering that from all the way back then!! It makes me think that not only have Bakugou and Izuku been watching each other, but that Izuku has always had everybody’s eyes on him! Which is true, he’s inspired everyone! It goes both ways; Izuku loving his friends, and them loving him back :’)

Kami telling him to take a bath lmao I love it. Finally somebody said it

*ugly sobbing noises*

This kind of segment, with a mask falling, a space in-between and a reveal, reminds me of Compress’ reveal :) In that, the person is hiding their identity and then when the mask comes off, they reveal who they truly are underneath

While Izuku is of course determined to go after AFO and is quite the fearsome powerhouse, I really think when he takes off that mask, he’s showing who he really is underneath - a scared little boy who just wants everyone to be happy

JESUS, SHOUTO REALLY IMPROVED HIS QUIRK HUH!! LOOK AT IT, IT’S EVEN HIGHER THAN THE SKYSCRAPERS!!

“The burden placed on you... it doesn’t allow for tears, right?” He sounds so sassy here.

Kind of like saying “Oh you look upset. But that’s weird, I thought Heroes weren’t supposed to cry.” Lol it really shows here how pissed Shouto is at Izuku

But then he relents from that snark and is like “Hey, come on, we’ll share this burden. I’m not letting you go it alone, remember that we’re all here.” :’)

I love when Shouto is sassy and passive aggressive but I also love it when he shows that soft side of him

Okay, this is something I really love.

Tsuyu didn’t join the Bakugou Rescue Squad because “they would be just like Villains breaking the rules”

But here she is, learning from that regret of hers and coming right back to make sure Izuku isn’t the one struggling. She wants to be a part of this rescue squad and pick up where she left off :)

Tsuyu has always struggled with her regrets. It was shown after Kamino when she cried, but for me, I only realised this fully during the Joint Arc when she had her regrets about not making better decisions and not being quick enough [I think that was it].

“I won’t cry in such a flurry” reminds me of “I want to live a life without regret” and so that’s what she’s saying here. This won’t be another regret of hers. She wants to do her best to save her friend

“When scared, you’re allowed to tremble when it’s tough, you’re allowed to shed tears. That’s how you become a Hero like in the comics.”

I feel like that quote piggybacks off of Shouto’s “Heroes cry too”, in that, this is now 1A comforting Izuku. This is them fully coming up to him and telling him that they can help, and that he’s allowed to feel sad about his situation. Shouto’s quote was the teaser, while this entire chapter [and the rest that come to follow] is the main course.

And this is exactly who Tsuyu is. Reassuring, comforting, someone dependable. It says a lot that she’s come from not going to help in Kamino, confessing her feelings and crying about it, then coming back in a similar situation and offering her help - that she’s not willing to just let an opportunity go to better herself. I think I remember reading a few posts on her crying after Kamino and saying it was “performative” or that she just “wanted attention” or smthg like that, but I think she’s really just quite an honest person, and here she is making a great show of how she won’t let something like her guilt slow her down from being the hero she wants to be.

[A part of me feels like this is also a little more evidence with the whole People Not Caring About Bakugou’s Feelings Of Helplessness but like. I digress. It kinda counts but at the same time, it’s not what is going on at the moment.]

Seeing everyone try to reassure Izuku was lovely, and I can’t wait for the rest. I’ve seen a lot of people waiting more for Bakugou’s portion of the battle [AND YEAH DUDE ME TOO] but I really feel like Bakugou’s won’t come until like 2 chapters later or something.

Cause, if this chapter is anything to go by, we’ll probably get through Mina, Mineta, Kirishima, Hagakure and Aoyama next chapter, and then we’ll move onto the “more important” conflicts which will be Iieda and Uraraka, and if their segments are chocked with tension drama and tears, then Bakugou will have a whole chapter to himself hopefully.

Which means we’ll probably have to wait 2 more chapters until we get that sweet, sweet Bakugou chapter :( I hope I’m wrong and it comes sooner than predicted but whatever

I know for some people, that’s all they want, but personally I love these little bits that reflect on the background characters. As someone who isn’t really obsessed with the background characters but also likes them enough to appreciate their development/the little moments they have, I gotta say I really liked this :)

[kokororyuu]

miles apart [levi ackerman x reader]

synopsis: “you’re going to die,” “i know,” “you’re dying,” “i know, levi, i’m sorry,”

warnings ⚠️: major character death(s), SPOILERS up to season three, slight suggestive themes (its brief!!), brief description of gore

word count: 3.8k

author’s note: no, because,,, this was my first levi fanfic, and i’m immensely proud of it ‼️ if we ignore the “suggestive” part 😩😩 anyway, have fun reading, lovebugs <33

PART TWO: once more

whatever just happened, had happened too fast, and now both you and levi were laying side by side, miles apart from everyone else and the chaos that caused this whole mess in the first place.

you’re both injured bad from the war, and the stench of blood, both humans and titans alike, lays thick in the air. you find yourself nearly suffocating in it as you cough up what seems to be more blood, it’s metallic taste coating your lips and tongue in red.

you can barely feel your arms and legs, and you’re pretty sure they’re either broken or torn off from the fight. you pull your heavy lids open and stare blearily at the night sky, how many hours had passed since you two had been laying here like this?

you turn your head slowly, hearing the multiple cracks your joints made in the effort as your eyes trailed to levi’s face. he’s still in the same position, facing the sky with empty, soulless eyes. you reckon he was pondering something, how long were we gonna stay here? when will someone arrive to help us?

“levi?” you croak out, and he lets out a little rumble of acknowledgement. “are you okay?” what a stupid question... with how levi is, he definitely isn’t, but he was sure to make it seem like he was. he nods to the best of his ability, though he isn’t faring much better than you. gashes that gush with blood cut across his body in what seems to be parallel and equal in length, claws, of some sort, you assume. “good,” you whisper so softly that he almost doesn’t catch the murmured word.

your life seems to be flashing before your eyes quite slowly for the amount of time you’ve spent here bleeding out beside the man.

you recall the first time you caught him off guard.

it was a complete accident. as a member of levi’s squadron, you worked under him as a subordinate and did as he said, after all, he had chosen you to be on his team, and you put as much trust in him as he did in you.

you were bringing him some tea after you had dropped off a huge stack of paperwork in his office. you knew he needed it, after all, it had only been a few days after your most recent expedition and paperwork was a bore if you ever knew one.

a simple teapot and cup of black tea rested on the tray in your hands as you made your way from the kitchen to his office, acknowledging a few cadets that would respectfully greet you before going on their way. when you had finally made it to his door, you knocked gently before waiting for his usual question of your name and reason for entering.

a few seconds, maybe minutes passed, and you were beginning to think he wasn’t even there, but you hadn’t want the tea to go to waste, so you hesitantly pushed the door open with your foot, entering the sparkling clean room with tray in hand.

“captain levi?” you nearly bit your tongue (oluo would have laughed in your face if you did before biting down on his own) and froze with your head peeking inside the room at the sight of the man leaning his head against the back of his chair, his eyes closed and his usual frown wiped off his face.

it had you in a wonder, surprised that even humanity’s strongest (and grouchiest) soldier could have a face as calm as the one on his as he slept. you stepped as quietly as you could toward his desk, setting the tea down with care before you nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand wrapped around your wrist.

your eyes traveled up the scarred and rough hand, up the toned arm, and looked straight into narrowed grey eyes. “what are you doing here?”

“got you tea, captain,” your nerves were calm now, and you spoke with a grin, “thought you would need it with all the paperwork commander tosses at you,”

levi’s hand lingered on your wrist a little longer before he pulled away and carried the steaming cup to his lips in his strange cup hold that you’ve tried to mimic yet still can’t get right. he drank a little, his face ever so stoic. “tastes like shit, brat,” he said, though he made no move to drop the cup back into the tray and continued to sip away at the red orange liquid.

“thought you’d say that,” you turned to leave after saluting him, your hand wrapping around the doorknob before a mischievous impulse lit in you once more, “you know, captain,” he didn’t even glance up from the papers on his desk. “you look cute when you’re sleeping,” his gaze snapped up at that, and he was about to chew you out for making the comment, but to his dismay, you were already gone, having gotten the amusing response from him that you wanted.

there were many times after that where you’d make a little comment here and there, only to get an icy glare and a click of the tongue from levi, which wasn’t a problem to you at all, if anything, you found it the best part. the way he’d scowl at you and turn away, only to let you get away with it the very next day. it was like a little game the two of you would play, and you were winning if eye rolls, embarrassed blushes hidden behind callused hands, and, “tch,”’s counted as prizes.

you would’ve never thought he’d bite back, especially this far into the game.

“captain levi~!” you drew out his name with a little hop in your step. he didn’t stop walking, if anything, his pace sped up as he tried to leave you in the hallway. “captain!” you groaned childishly and ran after him. he turned the corner and into his office, leaving the door ajar. you grinned, it seemed he knew well enough you wouldn’t stop for a closed door. you opened it as soon as your hand touched the cool wood, and sang out, “levi~” you saw him standing by his desk and looking down at the papers that littered it. “i’ve got another joke for you—”

“—if you keep this up, i might actually get angry,” you halted in your tracks and clamped your mouth shut, angry? oh no, you weren’t trying to make him angry, only annoy him if anything. you knew, everyone knew to not get on levi’s bad side, and after seeing the man kick the titan shifter boy from the 104th cadets merciless, it’d be terribly stupid of you to try and anger him.

he dragged his fingertips across the tabletop and looked up through hooded eyes, “might even punish you,” you were stuck in a stupor at his words and how they obviously had implications for something else.

“but i guess you’d like that, hm? i wouldn’t want give you that satisfaction,” he seemed pleased with the way your cheeks flamed up and your jaw stayed dropped in shock. after he grabbed whatever he needed from his desk, he walked by you with a sly quirk of his lips, dragging a hand up to close your agape mouth. “close the door after you leave,” he called out before he disappeared out the door and down the hall.

-

from there on, your relationship had changed drastically. this game now had two players, and that new addition was the original target of the game himself. the teasing and playful jokes continued on for days, weeks, and you were having so much fun that you barely realized how much some people were noticing, including a certain bespectacled one.

“hey, hange!” you plopped next to them as you watched them fiddle with a little gadget. “what’s this?” you eyed curiously as hange laughed.

“my new creation! i’m trying to make something erwin asked for to help with his arm. you nodded, understanding immediately. the commander had lost his arm when the scouts went to save eren from a kidnapping. there was a few moments of silence before hange asked, “so… you and levi?”

you opened your mouth to retort but they beat you to it, “don’t deny it! even eren can tell, and he’s as dense as a rock!” you cowered from their accusing finger before huffing out a sigh.

“you know it doesn’t work like that, hange,” the mood dampened with your honest but hurtful words. you were right, it didn’t. with a world of titans and destruction, war like this, there would never be a second of peace, of life, of freedom. you could be alive and happy one day and then die and suddenly gone forever the next. and with levi being an ackerman, he was bound to survive longer than you, you just didn’t want to cause him more unnecessary pain.

hange hummed under their breath, “you’re right, but if it were me, i’d rather die knowing i had the chance and took it, than die letting it slip between my fingers,” they continued to tinker with the gadget as you pondered quietly on their words. they were right, but so were you, and now it was just up to the risk both sides were willing to take. what would happen if you ever confessed these buried feelings of yours to your terribly stoic captain?

-

in the end, you never said anything, at all. the two of you stayed at this sort of flirting and joking around type state. it was comfortable, you concluded, though you had to be honest, there were a few close calls where you felt you blushed too much, said too much, or gasped a little too loud when his touch lingered on you for too long.

you hadn’t said a word about your feelings for the man, and neither did he.

-

levi didn’t know when his heart had decided to let you in.

it was probably after erwin had passed away on a roof of a building with a gaping hole in his side that colored his cape and the white bandages around his abdomen red.

he brought his body back for a proper burial, but even then, levi couldn’t cry, nor let a single tear slip down his cheek. for a few weeks, even if he seemed put together, there was a heavy feeling that resided in his chest. no matter if he tried to sleep it away or drown himself in paperwork, it never left him.

it had been a rough night. there were complications with the imports from a faraway town in sina, and while hange was busy with things as the newly appointed commander, levi had to deal with the papers that came with the conflict.

he didn’t know how long he had been sitting before the fireplace in the mess hall, scratching away at the parchment under the warmth of the flickering fire that casted a warm orange hue around the room.

he clicked his tongue as another wave of aches hit his head before rubbing at his temples. erwin would’ve been better at handling this shit… his brow furrowed at his thoughts, you know better than that, there’s no bringing him back, you made the choice, levi.

levi didn’t regret his choice, but he had guessed the heavy presence of death had just stuck with him a little tighter this time around. it was fine, it would pass, at least, that was what he told himself.

during his turmoil, you had entered the mess hall as quietly as you could, “captain levi?” he looked up from the papers and pulled his hand away from his face with a quirked brow. “i brought you tea,” you spoke softly as to not agitate him any further. “i hope it tastes better than last time, i practiced,” you sent him a lopsided smile that you hoped would ease his frown, but instead, it brought the opposite.

the lines on his face became deeper as he scowled, “i don’t have time right now,” and the grumble of your name right after sounded harsh on both yours and even his ears. it was now your turn to pout. you definitely weren’t trying to mess around with him right now, not with all the stress and the recent death of one of his closest friends.

you sat there across from him at the table in silence for a few moments as he penned the paper. what could make him feel better? you thought quietly to yourself, your eyes raking over levi in search of something, any indicator to help him. a sudden idea popped in your head as you stood, making your way to stand behind him as you watched his eyes never leave the documents. “what are you doing?”

you reached over and plucked the pen from his hand, placing it down on the table and ignoring his glare, “just relax, levi, i’m gonna try and sort out these tense ass muscles of yours,” as soon as the words popped out of your mouth, your hands began to press into his shoulders, eliciting a little sound of surprise from levi. he almost immediately tensed back up at the foreign feeling but relaxed to the best of his abilities after a few pointed words from you.

“i’m not just here to get you tea, you know?” you worked out a knot in his neck, watching as his head lolled to the side to give you more room to work. “i had the same training as you, and i know how to handle paperwork, you could always ask if you need the help,” he hummed at your offer, and you only chuckled before getting back to his tense muscles.

levi let himself relax, more so than he probably ever had. your hands made their way up the base of his neck, and he let out a little sigh. he didn’t think this would feel this good, and he was considering what he could do to pay you back before realizing. what was the need to? you were doing the work of a subordinate for a superior, there was no need for him to treat you to anything.

but there was something that made levi realize that it wasn’t true, no matter how much every fiber in his body wanted to reject the idea. you were different, in your own weird way, and he couldn’t place his finger on it yet, but he decided he’d find out along the way.

“alright, you can work with me starting tomorrow, meet me here after dinner. if you’re late, i’m not letting you help again,” you smiled victoriously and pat his shoulders to signify you were done massaging them.

“alright then! see you tomorrow, captain,” you saluted him and shuffled out of the mess hall to leave him to his work.

the man held back a chuckle, sipping on the now lukewarm tea by his side. he had to admit, you were getting better at brewing his favorite drink.

levi’s heart felt a little lighter that night.

-

the two of you were almost impossibly closer after that. early mornings were spent with hange at important meetings and gatherings, most of the days were spent listening to hange rant about titans and ridiculous (but hilarious) and sometimes even useful plans, and late nights would be spent on paperwork and idle chatter by the warm fireplace in the mess hall.

the two of you would talk about nothing and everything, sometimes levi letting you talk his ear off as he added comments here and there or choosing to bask in each other’s silence as the flames beside you two crackled.

there were nights you fell asleep at the table, only to wake up in the middle of the night with a blanket that looked suspiciously like the one levi refused to share with you the night before around your shoulders that smelled of fresh laundry and lemons.

-

levi remembered all these little moments, including the time he had to yank a paper from under your arm to save it from your impending drool, or the multiple times he draped his cotton blanket over you and pulled it around your shoulders, his hands hesitating to pick off the dust that had resided on your cheek before gently brushing it off you and holding his breath when you’d twitch or move from his touch.

he still couldn’t really understand how it happened really, but spending time with you made him realize how much he liked the way you smiled at him no matter how annoyed he was with you, and the way you talked to him like he wasn’t humanity’s strongest soldier.

he felt normal, and strangely free.

and for some reason, he felt that if you ever disappeared from his sight, he’d lose this light feeling in his chest that outshined the bitter emotions he was always burdened with.

he didn’t want to lose you.

levi huffs, trying to control his unsteady breathing. there’s a feeling of discomfort that settles in his chest, and he’s not sure if it’s from just the cuts and bruises he obtained from the crash. you’re treating him like he’s fragile, like glass, and he hates it, sure, he’s broken, even he knows that, but he hates it.

humanity’s strongest soldier… he scoffs internally at himself, well, he feels pretty pathetic at the moment. he then outwardly scowls, gripping onto the pants of his torn uniform.

“you’re going to die,” he doesn’t mean for his words to sound so sharp, and he’s sure that his tone hurts you more than the gashes that litter your torso.

“i know,” he’s right, it hurts, and they seem to cut deeper than your wounds, as if someone struck your heart with a knife and twisted the blade.

his voice nearly breaks when he says this, but he stays... strong, “you’re dying,”

“i know, levi. i’m sorry,”

you know this man has been through so much, too much. he lost too many, has seen too much, he’s been through so many tragedies, and you still haven’t seen him cry, not once, and not now as you lay beside him, shivering and keeping your eyes open enough to watch him glare up at the night sky.

one last attempt, you think to yourself. you need to get his attention before it’s too late, before you fade away and disappear, but you can already feel your conscious slipping through your fingertips and your eyes drooping.

“levi…” your voice sounds pained when he stays turnt away from you and looks up at the moon, “i’m proud of you,” levi’s heart squeezes and so does his eyes, he doesn’t want to hear your soft voice right now, nor look at your mangled body, or hear the shouts of soldiers swinging around on their odm gear or the battle cries as they slice into titans’ napes.

you bite back a cry at his act of ignorance to your pleas for him to just look at you, and fall silent as your energy drains along with the blood that comes from you and him and soak into the earth. you meant those words, you mean what you said, and you beg him with your eyes focused on his high cheekbones to just spare you a glance while his stay glued to the twinkling stars.

it becomes so quiet, that levi begins to think you’ve already kicked the bucket with how he can barely hear your breathing.

he’s already preparing himself to do what he usually does, steel himself against the terrible emotions of survivor’s guilt and sorrow. every time he feels the twinge of depression and desperation creep up and wrap itself around his heart, he escapes to his mind, the logical part of him. the part that keeps him miles apart from everything, distance, safety.

he does it so much that you know, and you can tell he’s doing it right now with how tense his brow is and how the nails of the hand which lays between you digs into his palm. he’s closing himself off again, even after all these years you’ve spent together as comrades, partners in crimes, and what you hope was as friends.

you try to distract yourself some more, with anything really, the way his hair, though covered in blood seems to flow seamlessly to the sides of his head, revealing his undercut, and his eyes that stare silently into the endless blue sky, or the familiar smell of citrus and fresh laundry that you get from him even with the layers of smoke that are wafting from the ongoing battle burning your lungs or the smell of blood still seeping out from the both of you.

you want to hold onto the lingering hope that he’ll turn to you and at least say one last goodbye, or say those unspoken feelings he’s always hidden behind cool grey eyes, but he doesn’t say a word.

time is running out, and you need to say this, say this before you leave him like everyone else. levi’s fingers twitch when he hears you take in a sudden breath, your voice coming out quiet, weak, frail.

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” levi’s eyes open, and his head snaps toward you, and he regrets it, so bad. he manages to catch the exact moment the light, the life, fades from your very eyes he always thought were so gorgeous.

he’s lost his light.

you’re gone.

levi feels this terrible grip on his heart that makes him lose his breath and his head pound worse than it already is, and he chokes on the blood that gushes from his lips. his hand reaches out to you weakly, his arms, losing their strength, and he barely has the energy to keep his eyes open.

he almost can’t bring himself to do it, but he leans forward to press a shaky and hesitant kiss on the top of your head that he hopes conveys all the unsaid confessions he could’ve showered you with before your passing. his lips are warm, while your body turns pale and blue, and he finds it ironic how someone as kind and bright as you now seems dull in comparison to him.

as unshed tears pool at the corners of his eyes, your lifeless ones bore into his for the last time before he pushes them close with a touch of his hands over your eyes.

his heart, it hurts so bad, more than it ever has, and no matter how much he tries to push down the lump in his throat or the burning of his eyes and heart, it persists. he slowly falls back into his previous position, your corpse beside him losing its warmth and his steel grey eyes facing the moon once more.

the fuzzy lines around the full moon start to blur as he blinks a few times, the hues of white mixing with the blue of the sky, “it is…”

and finally, he lets himself cry.

explanations

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

this is a more poetic way to say “i love you” in japanese :D

“it is...”

this is essentially “i love you too” in reply to “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

[pagingdoctorbedlam]

Ready for zombies, Zoro, and some hurt/comfort? Then take a swig of this potion for @quirkyseastone ‘s “Brew a Love Potion” event! (But please read the warnings first!)

Characters: Zoro x Reader; appearance by Bartholomew Kuma

Genre: Zombie/Apocalypse, Hurt/Comfort (a bit light on the comfort though, woops)

TW/CW: Violence, guns and swords, blood, light gore, mentions of cannibalism, undead bodies

Inspiration: The concept for zombies in this fic is inspired by the novel Breathers by S.G. Browne (at least, what I remember from having read it over 10 years ago...)

Word Count: ~3.1k words

...

"Hold still, we're almost..." You apply the last bit of blush before appraising your handiwork. Not bad, if you said so yourself. At a glance, Zoro doesn't even look dead. "There. Want a mirror to see?"

"I trust you not to doll me up too bad." Roronoa Zoro yawns, even though the legendary zombie hunter no longer needs to sleep, having recently been turned into a zombie himself. Which, contrary to popular belief, is not in and of itself a death sentence. Most zombies act as they did in life, even if their bodies no longer recover the way a living human's does. The danger comes from the zombies who try to stop this decay by feasting on human brains...and sometimes more dangerous are the humans who've decided that every zombie is a ticking time bomb regardless of said zombie's intentions. 

At least Zoro had never been that way, but now he's got to hide from the hunters who once considered him a legend. Sure, it wouldn't be hard for him to fight off hunters, even if you've had to stitch each limb back on at least twice (and you're still not sure where one of his eyes ended up). But you'd rather your newfound partner in protecting innocent zombies not cause a scene simply by walking through the market.

"Remember, don't rub your face. This makeup cost me a fortune. And try to fake breathing this time, okay?"

"Yeah yeah, I got it." He manages to take a breath that's believable but isn't so deep that it rattles the loose bones and organs in his slowly decaying chest.

Both of you get to your feet and finish the rest of your preparations for the outside world. Your clothing hides as much skin as possible, even with the warm temperatures outside. You spray Zoro down with cheap cologne so he smells less like roadkill and more like a teenager trying to cover up a bad case of B.O. And you slip on filtration masks in a vain attempt to avoid the ever-present smoke and dust beyond your walls.

No one's sure if the zombies came about because of the bombs, or if the bombs were secretly launched because the powers-that-be learned about the first nascent zombies and failed with their pre-emptive strike. But now much of the world is a wasteland, and bargaining for resources is bad enough without half the population lobbing accusations of cannibalism at the other half. You can't hold off this trip any longer, because you've ended up looking after a number of innocent zombies, and they need medical supplies before they fall apart any further.

You shoo Zoro away from the driver's spot on your motorbike. "Nuh uh buddy, we aren't getting lost today." You've heard a new band of hunters is coming to town, and the last thing you want is to run into them before you have a chance to secure your supplies.

"I don't get lost! They just keep changing where the market is." Zoro still reluctantly waits for you to take your place at the front before he sits behind you and firmly snakes his arms around your waist. You pretend you can feel his pulse when he holds you, even though you know the heart in his chest has long stopped beating.

Markets are supposed to be neutral ground. Everyone needs resources to survive after all, and one of the few things that bombs and zombie outbreaks couldn't kill is commerce. Stalls line the aisles of what was once a grocery store, faded advertisements promoting foods that no one's seen in years, and someone has fixed the speaker system to play the same old pop hits in a vain attempt at normalcy.

You hold tight to Zoro's hand, both to keep him from getting lost and so he stays close in case of danger. He obliges, and even holds bags for you as you pull him around. You might've called this romantic in the times before, back when your purchases would've been far more frivolous than bandages and shelf-stable rations, but you're unsure how close you and Zoro would've been without being thrown together by circumstance.

You pause by one stall, eyes wide. Zoro doesn't notice and keeps walking until he notices that you won't budge. He raises an eyebrow when he finally joins you. "What, some kinda' plastic plant?"

"Not plastic. It's real." You forgive him the mistake though, as the plant has sturdy, waxy leaves that almost look sculpted. It feels like so long since you've seen anything green (aside from Zoro's hair), much less an actual plant. But you note the name scribbled in tape on its battered plastic pot. It's nothing useful, not medicinal or edible in the slightest. Just a begonia that hasn't even bloomed yet.

The shopkeeper asks, "Gonna gawk, or you gonna' buy?"

You know you can't afford a plant, what with how rare they are. You might be able to bargain and beg if it were something more useful, but...

"We'll buy." Zoro slams something down on the table. "This'll be enough?"

You catch the glint of gold peeking from between his fingers. Jewelry isn't useful anymore, but human greed has a hard time giving up old habits. The shopkeeper smiles wide and practically shoves the begonia at you with one hand while snatching up Zoro's earring with the other. You thank him and depart the stall without another word, clutching the flower close to your chest.

"What was that about?" You hiss at Zoro.

"Looked like you wanted it," he says with a shrug. You squint up at his remaining earrings, only to realize that in his haste to remove the one he traded away, he tore the hole in his ear a little in the process. Probably didn't even notice that he'd done so, the stubborn fool...

Well, what's done is done. "Thank you. I'll make sure to take excellent care of it."

"Don't mention it." Which you know is Zoro-speak for "you're welcome". So you smile back at him without saying anything more on the subject, and continue the rest of your trek through the market.

You make the mistake of thinking this is a surprisingly nice day. But you don't realize that someone has noticed how Zoro isn't bleeding.

When Zoro pulls out one sword and tightens his grip around your midsection, you don't have to ask why. You're being followed.

You absently wonder what gave you away. Never removing your masks? A smudge in Zoro's makeup that revealed the deathly pallor underneath? It doesn't really matter, you think. Whoever is after you will chase you down until they can swing their weapons and play at being heroes, so all you can do is fight on your own terms. You avoid going home and swerve the bike toward the burned-out husk of an abandoned store that not even the most desperate zombies would hide in.

You glance at the tilted rearview mirror on your bike. The figures chasing you are hulking brutes, but nothing compared to their ringleader. He's built like a brick house with legs, and his imposing figure is thrown off by the pristine white hat topped with small bear ears. Instead of a holstered weapon, he has a bible strapped to his side. You've heard of this man. Judging by the look in Zoro's eyes, he does too. One of the most notorious zombie hunters in the country: Bartholomew Kuma.

What is he doing here, of all places?

Zoro says, "Soon as we touch down, hide. It's me they want."

"I can't just leave you. You know who that is back there?"

"Doesn't matter. I already died once. They can't do worse than that to me. But they could still hurt you plenty. 'Specially if you came back before they were done with you." In the rearview mirror, Zoro's eyes are sharp and cold as his blades.

You know how to handle a weapon in self-defense, but you're nowhere near the master that Zoro is. And he has a point. You're still human, you can bleed, you can hurt. And that might chew Zoro up worse than anything Kuma and crew could throw at him. You resign yourself to your fate and think of where in that burnt-out building you might be able to hide, preferably while still keeping an ear out for danger.

You speed on, trying to shake your pursuers, but soon the road runs out. The bones of burnt buildings jut out before you like oversized tombstones. You remember scouting here before, trying to usher out displaced zombies before the remnants of the building could collapse on them. Much of the ruins have fallen since you were last here, but there's still a concrete bunker that was once a stockroom, and it's mostly intact. You can lay low there until the fighting's over. 

You relay this plan to Zoro, and you tell him, "I'll be safe there, don't worry about me. Once the fighting's done, I'll come back down and patch you up. So don't die on me again, alright?"

Zoro nods, even though he surely knows the claim is more for your comfort than anything. He's a zombie, after all, and they don't heal the way humans do unless they devour human brains. He won't bleed, but if he looses a limb, or even his head? There's nothing you can do to fix that. And to be honest, you're not sure if that'll do him in, or if he'd continue living in pieces. You don't want to find out.

You park. And you know you should hit the ground running, but your heart is hammering in your chest. You turn to Zoro as he pulls out his blades.

You quickly put your warm hands on his cold cheeks and pull him in for a kiss. You two never attached words to what's simmered under the surface for so long, but in case of the worst...you couldn't handle him not knowing how  you truly felt. He blinks as you pull away, briefly stunned. You wonder if he'd blush if he could.

You run into the burnt-out husk of a building. The touch of your lips on Zoro's is replaced by a sword between his teeth.

In another lifetime, before people stopped dying right and the world went to hell over it, this building was a clothing store. You shopped here for outfits you haven't seen in years. Once, a friend who worked here snuck you into the back room, and you ate cheap takeout while surrounded by wall-to-ceiling racks of clothing and shoes. If you took time to wipe away the dust, you might still find graffiti left by the workers during their final shifts. You wonder if your friend left one.

You cannot look because you are huddled on a shelf and trying not to make a sound. The shelves are sturdy metal and easy to climb even without the rolling ladder. You're hidden high above the heads of anyone who might come in and pressed against a wall. No one should find you here.

For awhile, you heard sounds from outside. Speaking at first, though you couldn't make out what was being said. Then battle, swords colliding and guns firing. Screams. Then...nothing. You don't know if it's safe to come out. You'll find out soon. There are footsteps approaching.

A voice you do not recognize says your name.

"Roronoa Zoro is dead. Again. I am sorry that it had to happen." Heavy footfalls contrast a voice that is soft, almost even kind. "I understand why you might want to save him. You've built quite a reputation for that, you know. But I'm afraid it ends here. We cannot allow you to keep any more abominations alive. You understand that is what they are, don't you?"

You know he's trying to goad you into revealing yourself. It takes everything in your power to hold still and silent.

Metal crumples nearby with a shrill squeal, as if it could protest its false bones being broken.

"If you were to go on a trip...where would you like to go?"

The question throws you off guard, almost enough for sound to escape your lips.

"We do not have to kill you. All the government wants is to talk. If you cooperate, you'll be transported somewhere safe. Free of zombies, even." More metal crumples, and you wonder how Kuma is doing it. Does he have a weapon, or is he strong enough to break the storage shelves with his bare hands? "All you have to do is come willingly, and when we're done, you can go wherever you'd like, and you'll be kept safe."

But the only place you can think of is home. With Zoro. No matter what might come after you there.

The shelf under you shifts, and your body spasms as if you fell in a dream and awoke with your mind still lurching. You reach for anything to grab onto, but your fingers only touch air. (For the briefest instance, you spy graffiti drawn by a familiar hand upon the wall.)

You do not immediately recognize the feel of the arms, because they are warm and pulsing with life. You stare up at Zoro's face in disbelief. He's missing an eye and his face is smeared with blood, mouth drawn in a thin line.

"You survived," Kuma intones softly. "You ate them." And you wish you could refute him, but even before he spoke, you knew it to be true. Zoro's bloody fingers dig into your clothes to hold you tight. You hear his heartbeat for the first time, and it rarely skips a beat. Kuma says, "Let your friend down, Roronoa. You don't want to do this."

"Think I'm some mindless cannibal? Think again." Zoro sets you down and looks  you dead in the eye. "Told you I wouldn't die. And neither will you. Now, get out of here." Half a second before returning his sword to his mouth, his tongue flickers over his blood-stained lips. "Hurry!"

You do as he asks and flee to the doorway of the building. You know you should run to the motorcycle and drive out of here, but there are two problems with that. One is how you don't want to leave Zoro again. The other is that even if you admit the truth to yourself, that he finally gave in and consumed the brains of his enemies like the zombies he used to put down...you don't want to turn around and see what he did to the corpses of Kuma's followers.

The fight is swift and brutal. You've seen Zoro fight before, but while he's normally a whirlwind with his blades, now he's a demonic torrent. Much as he tries to stick to his traditional fighting forms, they slip into more instinctual slashes when Kuma pushes back, and the only thing that keeps Zoro on top is sheer ferocity. He moves so fast, you swear he's slashing three times faster than a normal man, leaving the afterimages of a three-faced demon. (You've heard rumors of zombies growing entirely new parts when they've eaten too much mortal flesh, but surely those are only rumors, survivors not understanding what they're seeing...)

Kuma is far quicker than his size would suggest. But even he begins to buckle. He blocks one blade with a bible far sturdier than it appears, and then lunges forward in a final desperate attack. Zoro braces to parry an attack, but is taken aback as no blow comes. Something metal and blinking is clasped onto his wrist.

"We will not meet again."

And Kuma is gone. You blink in surprise. You swore you didn't see him leave through the other holes in the building, didn't feel anyone pass you, and yet...

The normally composed swordsman growls as he sheathes his swords and tries to pry the blinking metal bangle (a tracking device, what else could it be?) off his arm. You want to approach him, but are unsure if you should; all you can do is watch as he uselessly paws at the bangle. Until he stops suddenly. You catch a glimpse of fresh crimson.

Zoro freezes as the reality of what he's done, what he's become, finally settles in. He's a statue slowly dripping red, most of which isn't his own. His breath shudders, and that too takes him off-guard. He sways where he stands, almost falling to his knees but somehow staying upright.

Before you can stop yourself, your feet carry you toward him, and you reach out. Your fingers brush against his back. He growls, "Don't. I'm not..."

"It doesn't matter what you are. You're still Zoro." 

Gentle pushes at his shoulders turn him around so he faces you. His face has more color than you've ever seen, blood red and flesh pink and mottled blues and violets of bruises. His closed eyelid twitches as the eye underneath regenerates. How long will it be until all the color's gone, and electrical impulses run short to leave his heart to hang heavy and empty in his chest, and how much longer than that until he gets a taste for life again regardless of the cost?

That doesn't matter right now. The future looms taller and more frightening than Kuma, but right now, you're two scared humans in a broken warehouse. You wrap your arms around Zoro and pull him close.

For the briefest moment, you feel his mouth open, hear the click in his jaw. His teeth brush against your ear. You close your eyes and refuse to think about it.

His chin rests on your shoulder. Mouth closed. Arms wrap around you right and your hearts beat together, lungs scramble for air together, blood and worry (and tears, you think, but you're not sure whose) intermingle and crawl to a slow stop until only a numb and temporary peace remains.

"You'd be forgiven for walking away." His voice is raw and tired with the weight of living again and all that took.

"Maybe. But someone has to keep you from getting lost." You give him one final squeeze before letting him go. "Come on. Let's go home and get you cleaned up."

When morning comes, you'll have to face what the future holds for a brain-eating swordsman and the one who looks out for him despite it all. But tonight, the both of you are miraculously alive and breathing, and there's a green new plant in the window ready to soak up all the sunlight tomorrow can offer.

[pinkplantmakesstuff]

[Sat opposite me is none other then The Commander himself. We are in my office; surrounded by stacks of notebooks and stationary, this is no battlefield and it's clear The Commander is currently out of his depth.

I will admit I was shocked when he agreed to an interview; the Commander is infamously secretive about his private life and personal affairs, and there are terrible rumours about his foul temper and monstrous appearance. Sat opposite me however, is a young, world-weary man]

Exclusive interview continues under the Read More...

Let's start with some introductory questions, can you introduce yourself?

[There's a pause before he finally speaks, he's surprisingly soft spoken.] My name's Alec. [He looks at me, and I have to prompt him for more] Oh I see. Uh people refer to me as the Commander, but I'm, not really? I don't, well I don't belong to the Pact anymore? But apparently the title stuck. And I just, end up helpin' with stuff still. [He shifts uncomfortably, and I need to know what brought him to my office today, why he's changed his mind before I continue with the more personal questions.]

So, Commander, what's changed? Why an interview now? After refusing to talk to any journalists for so long, what caused this change of heart?

[There's a another long pause.] Well, I mean...a couple of people told me it might be...good for appearances, to you know talk to one of you people, instead of just... lettin' everyone make stuff up about me all the time. [I assume he means the rumours that make up most of his public perception - like the idea his mouth is full of flesh-tearing fangs- which I can now confirm to be false. He may have pointed fangs but they are small, and he seems more interested in gnawing at his own lip.] Oh, uh and you can just call me Alec I guess.

Well thank you for choosing to speak to me Comman-Alec, now lets move onto the more personal stuff; what is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

[This seems to catch him off guard.] That, that is kind of, personal. [He grimaces and draws his arm tightly across his chest. "You said you didn't want people to make stuff up about you anymore, why don't you tell people so they know the real you."] I, well, ok. [He gives a defeated sigh but it seems I've swayed him around for now at least] Uh I'm a guy and I like other men. And, uh, there, might be someone. He's...[Alec mulls over his words for a minute, the "fearsome" fangs nibbling at his own mouth again] well he's like, there's a connection? It's hard to explain. ["You've just disappointed many potential suitors I suspect!" At this he lets out a surprised laugh, as if he can't believe what I said. "Is this potential someone your fearsome companion you've been rumoured to be spotted with? With fangs and horns even greater then your own?" At this he frowns, folding his arm in again.] He's not fearsome he's just, well he's great. [I've clearly struck a nerve so I choose to move on.]

Where and when were you born?

[Another one-armed shrug.] Dunno. Some small place. Don't remember it, don't care. And uh, I'm like, well I think I'm twenty? Something like that I don't know my birthday. I think it's in Winter. [At this it was mine turn to let out an incredulous laugh - which I admit was unprofessional of me. "I knew you seemed young but, only twenty? That's, you've done a lot for someone so young." There's another, lengthier pause.] S'pose so. [He doesn't comment on this further.]

Here's something you should know plenty about! What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

[He narrows his eyes at me, and then tilts his head thoughtfully. For a moment I thought he was going to demonstrate his magical capabilities I've heard so much about but then he simply shakes his head, a if deciding against it.] Magic. People don't like it. ["Yes I've heard the rumours of your powerful necromancy, as well as the tales of you being able to transform-" He cuts me off] I fight with magic. [Again I've struck another nerve, but I don't blame him. The rumour-mill has been particularly unkind to this young man, and it's no secret how many people view darker aspects of magic unfavourably.]

Lastly, for these introduction questions, are you happy?

[We sit there in silence for several minutes, and it seems he has no answer for me. I decide to move on quickly.]

Let's move onto the people in your life! What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

Uh, I don't. Well my family is, well she's a baker. We grew up together. And V-my... partner? [He catches himself, clearly trying to protect keep them anonymous.] I don't have any other family I guess. But, I'd do anythin' to keep them safe. [I don't push further but it's clear the Commander's family means as much to him as the next person. Something the rumours have lead people to believe is not the case.]

Have you ever ran away from home?

Yeah. When I was a kid. My friend - the baker. We left together. it was better after that. [Alec doesn't elaborate further to begin with, before realising he's only told me part of it.] From an orphanage I mean - it's the same ol' story about kids losin' family to the Risen then being taken into care when I was a baby. We hated it. We got old enough. We ran away.

You mentioned you have a partner, this mysterious V. Would you consider marriage or having children?

[Alec's demeanour almost doesn't change, but I've not spend years in journalism and not learnt how to read people. This question has clearly flustered the young commander.] Uhh, that's, kind of personal. I don't think about stuff like that? I, well it's just nice having someone around more now. [I was about to move on before he interrupts.] But, kids are good, if, I think I'd have liked too, if things had been different.

Let's talk about some juicy gossip! Do you secretly hate one of your friend?

What? [This clearly catches him off-guard, before letting out a bitter laugh.] No. I haven't got enough of those to secretly hate one of 'em. Plenty of people have made it clear how much they hate me though. I wouldn't be surprised if more of them secretly hated me too. [Another short pause, he shifts in his seat and I catch a peek at the small wings sticking out oh his back.] I'm too tired to hate any of them, especially secretly.

I see, so which friend knows everything about you?

[Almost subconsciously he touches his horns, they are short, stubby things.] I don't think, I have- maybe the two I mentioned earlier know the most. It's hard to talk about things. ["Hmm I'd picked up on that." At this he laughs, the minor tension that had started building up eased slightly.] Yeah I'm not great at words and stuff.

The next set of questions are asked my fans! Are you literate? Have you been to school?

Fans? [He shakes his head in disbelief before leaning back in his chair, hair obscuring his face slightly.] The orphanage wasn't much for teachin'. Next question. [I resist the urge to press further.]

The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

[He seems to spend some time thinking this one over before shaking his head.] Dunno. I guess I just assume most of the people I meet won't stick around long enough to be friends and...well I guess in a way they don't get to stick around I've....I've lost a lot of people. I guess that counts right? [He laughs slightly at this, but it isn't a happy one. Even the commander, who is oft described as cold is clearly affected by the ongoing tragedies he seeks to help stop.]

What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

I don't think I realised Sylvari could glow for like, ages. [He puts his hand up to his face slightly but he smiles slightly as he speaks, and it's only now I've realised he's without his infamous blind-fold. I mention this but he shrugs it off.] I still 'ave it. I just, don't want to wear it right now.

Do you have mental health or physical issues?

[He waves the stump of his missing arm, bandages still visible. Everyone's already heard about the fight against the fearsome Jungle dragon that cost him his arm, as well as the Marshall of The Pact .] Does this count? [He makes no mention of his mental health so I try to press further.] I'm fine.

What is your current main goal?

[Alec shakes his head, before shrugging again.] I'm not gonna talk about stuff like that, in case it puts people at risk, it's, well it's stuff that needs doing to help people.

Let's move onto something easy! Some choices! Drink or food?

Food. I like cooking. ["Really? The famous Commander, known and feared on the battlefield, enjoys being in a kitchen?" He smiles slightly and nods.] It's just nice y'know. I like making things a lot.

Cats or dogs?

Cats. Their senses are easier to see through and they can fit in smaller places. [Before I can ask what he means he continues.] I would like a pet one too I think.

Early bird or night owl?

I prefer getting up early, it means I have longer in the day to get stuff done.

Optimist or pessimist?

[He frowns again.] Don't know. I don't think things are ever gonna go very well. [He merely shrugs when I point out that he sounds like a pessimist.]

Sassy or sarcastic?

I wouldn't say I'm either to be honest. ["There have been reports from Queen Jenna's courts that you have been known to make the occasional sarcastic, scathing remark."] Well there are also reports I've got a huge dragon tail but that don't make it true either. [I don't point out that dry remark he made.]

You'll be pleased Alec, we are finally finishing up! Finally it's time for some "Have you evers". Lets start with have you ever been caught sneaking out?

Nope. I used to be unnoticeable, though, that's changed a...little. [He gestures to himself in what I am assuming is reference to his small wings and horns] Like I said earlier though, magic.

Broke a bone?

Nope not that either. ["Really? With your work on the field and from the battles I've heard, you've truly never broken a bone?] I guess that's just the one thing I got goin' for me I guess.

Received flowers?

I don't think so? Wait yeah maybe but they are from people I don't really know as thanks which is nice I guess- I give 'em to...my baker friend coz she likes to display them in her shop.

Ghosted someone?

[There's another pause, it seemed he'd been slowly getting used to speaking to me but this one has him quiet again.] Not....intentionally. Keepin' in contact is hard when you're constantly travelling. And writing is... not one of my greatest talents.

Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

Uhh to be honest I probably wouldn't realise it was a joke sometimes', and if I did and I don't get it then maybe they should have told a better joke. [He shrugs and I can't help but laugh at his honesty]

[There you have it readers, an EXCLUSIVE interview with the feared Commander himself. Nothing like the rumours who describe him as "The Beast", The Commander is just another war-weary fighter trying to do what's right.]

Thank you @the-mystic-dragon for tagging me this was so much fun to write! (Even if it took like, an hour, and I massively changed the format XD) This is written as if it's around mid to late lws3 and before PoF as well as in the au with Vasche! Vasche is @resonatingfern's wonderful character and Alec's "mysterious partner" in this. In terms of tagging, if ya wanna do one go ahead! Though I did change the format quite a bit oops XD

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

ahh i apologize in advance, but about the request i sent about annie’s s/o (reader) being a goddess, can i add on? basically everyone views her as a goddess, and one day, connie (or whoever) gets injured and reader rips their clothing to bandage his wound. everyone else starts saying things like “hey y/n i got injured too y’know” haha tysm <3

I think I got a little carried away from the original prompt haha... I do that a lot though if I’m being honest.

Also, sorry this took so long, Tumblr literally just deleted everything halfway through >:/

Flirting

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: Minor injury

Category: Fluff

Summary: Annie’s s/o happens to be particularly admired by many of the 104th, and, while everyone is fighting in the battle of Trost, Annie gets a little jealous.

Words: 2.4K

It happened out of nowhere.

The colossal titan towered over the wall once again, appearing with a bolt of foreboding lightning.

The force of it sent you and the other cadets of the 104th flying helplessly off of the wall, and you could do nothing but gaze on in horror as it kicked a wide hole in the gate, and titans slowly started to pour in.

You and the other cadets were quick to action, considering you were already there to begin with. Your main priority was to escort all the civilians safely into Wall Maria, and slay any titans that got in the way.

“This has gone pretty smoothly, all things considered.” You sighed, turning to face your girlfriend Annie as you both flew through the air in sync using your ODM gear.

“I suppose, but I can’t really see this having a good outcome. After all, so many have already gotten into the walls, and we can only save so many civilians. Plus, we don’t have any means to plug that giant hole back there.” She stated bluntly. You sighed again. You knew she was right, the Trost district was as good as lost already--it was that way as soon as the gate was destroyed--but you still clung onto the hope of saving as many innocent people as possible.

You released the trigger on your blade, and the grapple of your ODM gear retreated into your side. You enjoyed the unrestrained air time for a quick moment, before pointing your blade at a nearby building, pulling the trigger and launching the grapple into the brick sides, using up a fair amount of gas to keep up your quick, but steady momentum.

“Still, I’m glad we’ve kept casualties to a min-” You had no time to finish your sentence before you felt a sharp yank on your waist, and you yelped as you were sent tumbling through the air and into the ground with a thud.

You regained your bearings quickly, and you looked behind you to see what had yanked you out of the air so unceremoniously, but your eyes widened in horror as your eyes slowly processed the scene in front of you.

A titan—at least 15 meters tall—stood there with a wide, eerie grin as it held onto the iron wire of your ODM gear. You gripped the wire tightly, pulling desperately on the only thing tethering you to the bloodthirsty monster behind you.

It was all in vain, however, and you gulped back a scream as the titan started to pull on the wire, dragging you backwards against the stone beneath you and into it’s outstretched palm, having full intention of grabbing you the second you were within reach.

You winced in pain as the harsh friction against the stone started to tear up the fabric of the shirt, and eventually, your skin, leaving a small trail of blood behind you as the distance between you and the monster grew shorter and shorter.

You gazed back in horror to the road in front of you where you and Annie had been swinging so nonchalantly through the air mere moments ago. Your panicked eyes finally landed on the blonde, who had quickly turned around, and was now flying towards you at an inhuman speed. Once she got closer, you were able to see her face, which was painted in panic and desperation as she steadily zipped her way towards you.

The sight of her coming to rescue you brought you a little relief amidst your panic. There was no doubt she would be able to save you—after all, she is one of the most talented soldiers in the 104th Cadet Corps. Thank god I have such an amazing girlfriend... You thought.

You were dragged out of your thoughts, however, as you felt a tight squeeze on your torso. You looked up in horror as the situation suddenly sunk in.

The titan had you securely in it’s fist, and was bringing you to it’s open mouth with the same wide, murderous grin.

And, as you turned back to face Annie, a realization hit you.

She wasn’t going to be able to make it in time.

“ANNIE!!” You suddenly screamed out, reaching out to her with your free arm in a useless attempt to reach her, and tears started to run down your cheeks as you feared for your life.

Annie did the same thing, reaching her arm out as she tried frantically to reach you, screaming out your name desperately.

You squeezed your eyes, bracing yourself to be mercilessly bit in half by the monster. Suddenly, a quick slash sound could be heard from behind you, and the titan’s grip on your torso slacked, and you fell to the ground limply.

Your eyes peeled open and you gasped at the sight in front of you. Someone slashed it’s neck...!

You weren’t given any chance to rest, however, as the titan’s limp body started to fall in your direction. You were frozen in fear as it’s shadow loomed over you, and it’s large body threatened to crush you in a moment’s notice.

However, a pair of arms--human ones, thank god--wrapped themselves around your torso, and you heard the familiar buzz of the grapple hook, before you felt yourself whizzing through the air, and landing clumsily on a nearby rooftop with a groan.

You opened your eyes painfully, and found yourself tucked into someone’s chest, their arms wrapped protectively around your injured body. You lifted your head and immediately recognized the face before you.

“Mikasa!” You gasped out, and she looked back down at you with a worried expression.

“Are you okay?!” She kept her tight grip on your body, holding you close with a worried look on your face.

You heard quick footsteps approach you from the side, and you turned to see Sasha running across the rooftop towards you and Mikasa, her blades stained with titan blood, leaving a trail of steam in her wake.

“You guys saved me! Thank you!” You buried your head back in Mikasa’s chest as you hugged her tightly, the terror not quite having left your body yet.

“Ah- Y/n...” A pink blush started spread across her cheeks, flustered at such close contact with you.

“Y/N!” A voice called from the other side, and you immediately recognized the voice as Annie’s.

You pulled away from Mikasa and ran towards your girlfriend, tackling her into a hug with so much force that she nearly toppled over. Once she regained her footing, she returned the hug, wrapping her arms tightly around you and planting a kiss to the top of your head, and you swear you could hear her quietly sobbing.

Sounds of ODM gear filled your ears, and you assumed from the comfort of Annie’s chest that more soldiers had arrived.

After a small *ahem* from Mikasa, you pulled away from Annie, and she wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

“Don’t scare me like that...” She choked out weakly. “I thought something bad was gonna happen...” She blushed a little bit, clearly not used to admitting her affections so openly as she is now.

You only giggled at that, before responding. “Don’t be silly Annie, I would never die on you.” You offered her a sweet smile, reassuring her and helping her regain her composure.

“Right...” She straightened up, smiling softly. “Of course...”

You enjoyed the tender silence before a voice spoke up from behind you.

“Uhh... Y/n...” A soothing, deep voice spoke up, and you turned to look at the source. It was the tall, black-haired male, Bertholdt, who you had come to know quite well through Annie. He had averted his gaze from you, a pink tint on his cheeks.

You glanced around to scan the faces of the soldiers now lining the rooftop. There was Annie, Mikasa, Sasha, and Annie of course, but Reiner, Connie, Jean, Ymir, and Historia were also present. You noticed that, strangely, nearly everyone had the same pink blush as Bertholdt. You were extremely confused for a moment, before Bertholdt finished his sentence. “Your shirt...”

You glanced down at your shirt in confusion, but you immediately blushed in embarrassment at the sight.

During your run-in with the titan, while it was dragging you across the stone, it had torn up your shirt quite a lot, leaving a good portion of your back and midsection exposed.

You flustered up at the sight. “O-Oh... I didn’t notice that...” You stuttered out. Almost everyone had averted their eyes courteously, but a few, namely Reiner and Ymir, kept their gazes more or less... fixed on you.

Annie, despite having the biggest blush out of everyone, was the first to offer any help at all. She was clearly dissatisfied with the... attention... you were getting, and jealousy filled her head.

“Here.” She muttered, sliding her hoodie over her shoulders quickly and handing it to you in a bundle. “Put this on. Now.” Her voice spoke with jealous persistence, but at the same time, it wavered with fluster.

“U-Uhh... Yeah...” You graciously took the hoodie from Annie, and slid it over your torn clothing. You let out a sigh in relief at not only the warmth of the hoodie, but also the cover it offered.

“Dammit...” Reiner muttered quietly, and it seems Annie and Bertholdt were the only ones to hear. “Too bad Annie had that hoodie with her... It would’ve been better without it.” He chuckled.

Annie marched over to Reiner with a deadly stare, and his face dropped as he realized that Annie had heard him.

Once she reached him, she said no words as she delivered a powerful kick to the back of his legs, causing him to keel over and tumble off of the roof, catching himself on the side of the building with his ODM gear. Annie only raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to where she was standing moments ago, next to you.

As soon as she stopped walking, you turned to look at her curiously.

“Annie? What was that about?” You questioned.

“Nothing.” She muttered, looking straight ahead with an extremely unamused look. “Just dealing with the pervert.”

After a minute of comfortable silence mixed with light chatter, Mikasa cleared her throat and spoke up.

“Everyone!” She yelled, pointing her sword up into the air to signify a command. “The supply room has been overrun. I’m heading there now to save the resupply team and stock up. If you’re wise, you will follow me.” She announced before getting a running head-start, and launching herself off of the rooftop with her ODM gear.

“Right.” Reiner muttered, climbing his way back up onto the building, before punching Bertholdt lightly in the shoulder. “Bertholdt, let’s go.” The tall boy nodded, before following the blonde man.

“You heard her, Y/n.” Annie spoke. “Let’s get going.”

You gave her an encouraging smile. “Right, let’s go!” You said triumphantly, stretching your arms above your head. Pain quickly shot up your back at this, and you hunched over as you whimpered quietly, trying not to make a big deal of your injury.

It was in vain anyway, since Ymir seemed to notice, and she smiled slyly. “You know, Y/N.” You turned to face the freckled girl, and she slowly walked over to you. “If it really hurts, you could always ride on my back.”

You chuckled uncomfortably, before Annie stepped in front of you. “She’s fine. I’ll take care of it.” She stated firmly.

Ymir laughed whilst looking down at Annie, using her height to her advantage. The two glared at each other tensely for only a moment, before Ymir’s eyes settled back on you.

“Whatever.” She chuckled. “If you say so darling.” She finished the sentence with a wink before turning to follow everyone off of the rooftop. Cadet after cadet followed after, but Annie only turned to you with a mostly emotionless, but slightly sympathetic look.

“Does it hurt that much Y/n?” She asked, walking closer and lifting up the fabric of the hoodie slightly to assess the wound.

“It’s not so bad.” You smiled again, hoping she wouldn’t notice the way your voice shook slightly in pain.

She sighed, before turning to face you directly. She looked as if she wanted to say something to you.

“Annie? What is it?” You tilted your head in confusion.

She didn’t respond to you verbally, instead just closing the gap between you two and burying her head in your chest. Her sudden action caught you off guard, and you looked down at her soft, slightly messy blonde hair. You felt the small vibrations of her muttering something into your chest, but it was muffled behind comprehension.

“Annie, I can’t hear you.” You giggle, finally getting comfortable, and running her fingers through her hair soothingly.

She turned her head to the side, and pressed her ear into your chest, and seemed to relax at the sound of your heartbeat. “I don’t like everyone flirting with you so much...” She finally let out.

You giggled quietly, finding her jealousy almost adorable. To everyone else, it was terrifying, but it made you feel loved, if anything.

“You know I’m only interested in you...” You spoke soothingly, continuing to drag your fingers down her scalp, causing her to sigh.

“Still...” She trailed off, not quite being able to find the words for what she meant.

“I get it.” You spoke affirmingly. “We can talk to Reiner and Ymir about it later if we need to,” A small chuckle left your lips before you continued your sentence. “That is, assuming getting kicked off of a rooftop isn’t enough of a lesson for Reiner.”

Annie let out a sweet, genuine laugh at that, and you smiled knowing you made her feel better.

She stood up calmly, stretching lightly before turning her back to you whilst looking at you over her shoulder.

“Now get on, you’re in no condition to use ODM gear.”

A small blush spread across your cheeks, both in response to the affectionate gesture, and at the embarrassment of having to be carried around.

“I-I can carry myself y’know...” You mumbled whilst climbing onto her back, your words clearly not lining up with your actions. Truth be told, you were in a bit of pain, so you didn’t mind the ride.

“Hold on tight sweetie.” She spoke, before getting her running head-start. You gulped and wrapped yourself around her tightly. She took off and followed after the rest of the cadets.

As you zipped through the air, you rested your head on Annie’s shoulder, placing a delicate kiss on her collarbone.

“I love you Annie.” You smiled at her, and she smiled back sweetly.

“I love you too.”

[victoria-daydreams]

The Long Way Home

Chapter Twelve: A Plea to Come Home

AN: Guys, it’s only two chapters left in this story can you believe it? It’s feels like I was just posting the first chapter yesterday.

Trigger Warnings: none.

Word Count: 3.4k

Taglist: @iloveeverything-09​, @eiferundruhe​, @greatscott--wrongdecade​

Chapter Thirteen: An Unexpected Visitor

"So Erik was telling the truth," Raven started, sitting across from Charles at the kitchen table. "It's either me or Trask," She stated, staring at the four of us.

I stood behind Charles, my hands resting on the top of his wheelchair. Hank stood to the left me with his arms folded, leaning against a cabinet while Logan stood to the right of me just staring at Raven.

"If you kill Trask, they'll be ten more like him," Hank pointed out.

The blonde turned and looked at him, "Well then I'll kill them too and anyone who comes next," Raven threatened, a hardened expression on her face.

"Raven, do you hear yourself right now?" I asked in disbelief, staring at her.

"Let's just cut to the chase here," Logan spoke up, seemingly fed up with the polite conversation. "You wanna know how all this ends? Cause I've seen you in the future," e addressed Raven brusquely.

She shifted her veiled, suspicious gaze to him and held her ground, "Yeah, what am I like?" she challenged.

Logan met her scrutiny without blinking, "You're a cold,murderess bitch," he answered bluntly.

"Hey!" Hank protested weakly.

"Well don't hold back!" Raven exclaimed.

"By the time they finish you, and they finish you," Logan emphasized. "You've killed so much, you are knee-deep in human and mutant blood. You don't even know who you are," he finished.

The words hung heavy in the air and on us, like weights on drowning, helpless supplicants. Covering and suffocating us, in the undeniable horror of what could be. Raven stared at Logan for a moment, taking in his words with a hint of fear behind her eyes.

"Well, maybe there wouldn't be as much mutant blood if we made our move now!" she shot back at Logan.

"Gee, I wondered where I've heard that sentiment before," I commented sarcastically, moving to stand beside Charles.

"These are Erik's words, not yours," Charles chimed into the conversation. "Besides, you'd be giving Trask exactly what he wants: A reason for humanity to—to fear, to hate us," he said.

"You think they need a reason? Do you honestly think they'll ever be able to see me like this—" she briefly paused to shift into her natural form, to which he held his hand up and turned his head away for a second, "—and feel anything but fear? You can't even look at me!" she pointed out.

"That—That is not true," Charles denied and though his face was no longer turned, his eyes were looking somewhere above her head.

Raven reverted back to her human form, visibly easing Charles' comfort level, "I can hide, like you. But what about the ones who can't? I saw them in Vietnam. It's hard to hide your powers when you're getting shot at. And the ones that couldn't hide became lab rats for Trask," she continued.

"I will never let that happen to you," Charles vowed, his tone laced with sincerity. "I made you a promise long time ago that I would keep you safe, that I would protect you. If I had done my job, perhaps none of this would be happening to us. Perhaps you wouldn't have left home," he reasoned.

"I couldn't stay here forever, Charles," Raven sighed.

A slight smile tugged at Charles' lips when he pressed his fingertips to his right temple to telepathically speak to Raven.

"That's why!" she slammed her palms on the table clearly angry and rose to her feet.

"Raven, I'm sorry. I don't-" he began, but clearly there was some old habits Charles had never learned to stop and Raven was going to remind him of them.

"And it's not me you should be worrying about," she warned. "Erik is gonna start that war whether you like it or not,”

"Well, how do you know?" Hank wondered.

"He told me,"

Finished talking to us, the shapeshifter started limping to the bottom of the staircase. Raven's limping was pretty bad and it was clear that she was still injured from earlier today. She didn't get more than a few steps before Charles stopped her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Charles called, as I spotted the large dark stain on her pant leg.

"When was the last time you changed your bandage? On...on..your...leg?" Hank asked, his voice soft.

"Hank is going to see to your leg," Charles told her.

"I don't-" Hank interrupted.

"Yes you are," he told Hank. "You need some rest, my girl," This he directed to Raven.

"I'm not your girl," she softly snapped at him, but it wasn't said with much conviction.

"You will find your room just as you left it," he informed her before turning to his most loyal student. "Hank, go," he urged.

"I don't-"

"You know you want to, go on," Charles insisted.

"I don't blame Erik for trying to kill me," Raven interjected. "I would've done the same thing," she stated.

"How you're still able to defend a man who just attempted to murder you only a few hours ago is beyond me," I said, shaking my head.

The former professor absorbed his adoptive sister's radical opinion, unsure of how to reply.

"Go on, Hank,"

Knowing that Charles was ultimately going to get his way, Hank remained silent and caved and the pair walked up the flight of stairs together. Charles took my hand in his, effectively stealing my attention from the staircase and I looked down at him.

"Would you be so kind to give Raven a fresh towel and washcloth?" he asked softly.

"Of course Charles." I answered, nodding my head.

"Thank you darling," he said, planting a quick kiss to back of my hand before releasing it.

I made my way up the stairs and just as I was walk down the hallway I heard Charles' voice.

"She's home,"

"What are you trying to do?" Logan questioned him, not even attempting to conceal his emotions.

"I'm trying to save her," Charles answered, it as if it were obvious.

"Men who try to do that to women, in my experience, it doesn't end well,"

~~~x~~~

Now carrying a fresh, fluffy white towel and washcloth in my hands I stood outside Raven's bedroom door. I don't know why, but I've suddenly become so anxious about speaking to Raven alone. We hadn't seen each other in over a decade, but we didn't exactly end on friendly terms either. Raven wouldn't hold a grudge that long would she? Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath I knocked on Raven's door before peeking my head in to see her sitting on her sofa.

"It's just me," I informed, fully stepping into the room. "Charles just wanted me to bring you a towel and washcloth." I explained, as I walked over to her bed and placed them down.

Raven just nodded and I interlocked my fingers behind me, giving a nod of my own before slowly walking backwards out of her room.

"It's funny you know," Raven began, causing me to stop. "How the roles have reversed," she continued, turning her head to look at me. "Once upon a time it was me who was welcoming you into the mansion. And now here you are doing the same for me a decade later," Raven lightly chuckled, shaking her head.

"Who would've thought?" I asked, my lips quirking up into a smile. "Well, I'll leave to it you then," I stated, clasping my hands together and moved towards the door again.

"Wait!" Raven called, and I stopped once again this time I was at the door frame. "Stay awhile," she added.

I arched a brow, "Why do you want me to?" I asked, the question a lot more blunt than I meant it to be. "I mean, its just been a decade since we've last seen each other. And it wasn't on the best of terms," I clarified.

A small smile formed on Raven's lips, "I was young and immature," she admitted, nodding her head. "But I'm not her anymore," Raven added.

Giving a nod of my own, I made my way back into the room and sat in the sofa next to Raven, leaving a cushion space between us. An awkward silence permeated the space shared by us. As hard as we tried to ignore it, neither Raven nor I could deny that things between us had changed dramatically. We were both completely different people than we were in 1962. I hadn't really thought about Raven this much in awhile, sure she she had popped into my head quite a bit after the years following Cuba, but slowly she became an afterthought.

So many questions raced through my minds as we sit next to each other, praying for something, anything to interrupt the silence between them.

"How have you and Charles been getting on?" Raven questioned, breaking the crippling silence.

I breathed out a laugh and turned my body to face her, "To be honest you, it was only a few days ago that Charles and I saw each other again," I confessed, and Raven tilted her head in confusion. "Charles and I...well we separated in 1967." I explained, shaking my head. "It's been that way up until now,” I added.

Raven's eyes widened to the size of saucers, "What!" she exclaimed, grabbing my hands. "You two were perfect each other!" Raven claimed in disbelief.

"We were, we are." I chuckled, nodding my head and glancing down to the floor. "But the serum that helped Charles walk, it severely damaged our relationship along with other factors.” I sighed, lifting my eyes to see Raven's sad gaze.

She squeezed my hands gently, "I take it the school closing down was one of them?" Raven guessed.

I just smile at her sadly, "I think that was the biggest blow to Charles," I answered, sighing again. I put my hand on top of Raven's. "Enough about me and Charles, what about you?" I asked, looking at her expectantly.

"I was with Erik as you know already, up until JFK's assassination," Raven stated. "After that I went off on my own to fight for mutant freedom. I know we hold different views on what fighting for mutant rights looks like, but that's what I've been doing," she finished.

I looked away from her momentarily and out the window, "How was he? How was Erik?" I asked, looking back at her again.

"He...he missed you dearly." Raven answered. "Erik said he lost the woman who truly understood him," she continued. "And for awhile I envied you Claudia," Raven admitted. "I wanted to Erik to see me in that way," she added.

"But he did eventually, didn't he?" I questioned, remembering Erik's and Charles' conversation on the plane.

Raven nodded, "Yes, a relationship blossomed between us," she replied, a faint smile on her lips. “Did you ever think about Erik, after everything that happened?” Raven asked curiously.

“Of course!” I answered quickly. “More times than I should of honestly,” I said truthfully.

A small laugh escaped her and she shook her head, "God, I miss conversations like these," Raven breathed.

"Conversations like what?" I asked curiously.

"Trivial ones about men and relationships," she answered, laughing lightly. "And most importantly, I miss having them with you," Raven continued. My brows raised and my lips curved into a soft grin. "You were my first friend Claudia and I've missed you. Jealously shouldn't have ruined our friendship and for that I apologize," Raven finished.

I let out a chuckle and I righted myself. I immediately opened my arms and wove them around Raven's shoulders pulling her into a hug, which she reciprocated happily.

"Stick around Raven," I suggested. "I might let you even have the honor of calling me ‘Dia’ again." I joked, and Raven’s laughter vibrated through me.

~~~x~~~

Smiling to myself as I walked down the hallway I noticed a door was half-open, allowing me to spot Logan who was laying in bed with a cigar in his mouth. I scrunched up my nose in disgust at the smoky wisps that came out of his mouth. I knocked on the door catching Logan's attention.

"Yeah?"

I pushed the door open more slightly, "May I come in?" I asked sheepishly, to which Logan gave a nod. I scrunched nose my up even more now fully being hit with the cigar smoke. "You know those things give you cancer?" I commented, arching a brow and Logan rolled his eyes.

I took a seat on the edge of a chair that was placed underneath a desk and listening to the sounds of the TV before Logan spoke up.

"I have to know Claudia, how did Charles end up with a..." Logan trailed off, like he didn't want to finish his sentence.

"Say it Logan," I encouraged, my lips curving into a smirk. "It's alright," I added.

"How did Charles end up falling in love with someone who is such a bitch?" he asked bluntly.

I let out a laugh, throwing my head back in the process, "Well, you know what they say Logan," I began. "Opposites attract," I reminded, a grin on my face. "I do have to have thank you Logan." I stated, interlocking my fingers.

"What for?"

"If you hadn't found me, convinced me to help you. Charles and I probably wouldn't have gotten back together to try and work things out," I explained, slightly shrugging my shoulders. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I owe you...everything," I informed, looking at Logan.

He met my gaze, "You really wouldn't have come back if it weren't me?" Logan asked skeptically.

"No," I answered truthfully. "Charles showed no signs of changing his ways," I added, remembering my time in the mansion.

"Until now," Logan stated, and I nodded.

I lifted a brow, "So, in the future. You really never heard of me or even seen a picture of me,” I questioned, placing my arm on the desk and leaning my face on my knuckle.

Logan hesitated, "No," he told me. "It's like I said before, I never heard of you." he said.

My mind was reeling. How could have Charles never mentioned me. I thought I was his...his everything.

"Wow, so Charles just erased my entire existence in the future," I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. "I take it that someone took my place. Who's he married into the future? What's she like?" I inquired curiously.

Logan shook his head, "Charles isn't married in the future," he corrected, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Being here now," Logan continued carefully. "I get the impression that Charles had found it difficult to talk about you, mostly because of how your relationship had fallen apart," he stated, staring at me. "I don't think Charles could never see himself being in a relationship if it wasn't you," he explained, his voice taking on a softer tone. "It's obvious the man adores you Claudia, so the guilt of him pushing you away which subsequently led to your death must've ate at him," Logan finished.

I sat in stunned silence, "Wow," I finally breathed out.

"Ah, there you are Claudia," Charles called from the door, and my head snapped to the door. "I wondered where you had gone," he continued.

I stood up from my seat, "Oh, Logan and I were just having a chat," I stated, moving towards Charles with a faint smile on my face. "It was very...illuminating," I added.

I looked at Logan, the man who had changed everything, and I made a promise to myself. I would not let that be my future. I refused to die and I refused to lose Charles again.

~~~x~~~

I watched the sunrise from Charles' bed with a cup of coffee in hand, the morning light spilling through his window. The clock that was on his wall ticked softly in a way that was soothing. I was usually the only one awake at this time of morning, but the feeling of lips placing butterfly kisses up my back made it clear I wasn't the only one awake. I smiled to myself and slowly let mug float over to the nightstand as I turned over to face Charles.

"Good morning," I greeted, a smile still on my face as he draped his arm around my waist.

"A good morning indeed," Charles said, locking eyes with me and I could see nothing but absolute bliss behind them.

Holding myself up with my elbow, I let the tips of my finger graze his jawline and Charles leaned into my touch. I moved my fingers higher and ran my hand through his long hair.

"You need a haircut," I commented, and Charles smiled. "And a shave." I added, breathing out a laugh.

Charles leaned in closer to me, placing his lips on my cheek. My nose. My lips. I placed my hand on the nape of his neck as Charles slowly broke our kiss. Softly, he ran his thumb across my cheekbone. For a minute, neither of us spoke a word.

"You're so beautiful," Charles whispered, and a smile pulled at my lips.

The sound of knocking on Charles' bedroom door broke us from our reverie. His grip around my waist loosened and I slipped out of the bed, making my way towards the door. I opened the door only to find Hank with a panicked expression on his face.

"Hank what's wrong?" I asked, my previous feelings of serenity quickly disappearing.

"I've made a mistake," Hank informed, and I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"What?" I asked in confusion, folding my arms.

It was only ten minutes later when we stood in front of a broken up Cerebro, that I understood what Hank had meant.

Hank held the broken helmet in his hands, sighing. "We can't track her now," he said, shaking his head.

"She's cut her ties..." Charles sighed as well, gazing at the damaged Cerebro in sorrow.

I ran a hand down my face, "So essentially we're screwed," I stated, looking down at the now useless helmet.

Hank’s face suddenly lit up, "Wait!" he called. "There's something I need to show you," he added.

We followed Hank, back up the lift and to one of the rooms in the mansion that he had turned into something else during the time I had been away. Multiple TVs were plugged into computers. Tapes were rolling as three voices clashed with each other and a web of wires covered the floor.

Hank sat down and flipped some switches. "This is the system I designed to record any news about Paris, over all three networks and PBS." Hank explained.

"All three? Wow," Logan said dryly.

Hank nodded, "Yeah, and PBS," He remarked, with a light chuckled before shifting his attention back to the matter. "Anyways, look what I found," he said, turning up the volume on one TV.

"Tomorrow in front of the White House," a news reporter began holding a black microphone. "The President will make his announcement. He'll be joined by Secretary of Defense, Laird, and has even sought the help of renowned scientist Bolivar Trask, his special adviser to combat this mutant issue. The White House has asked..." Hank stopped the recording and turned back to us.

"Raven doesn't realize that if she kills Trask at an event like that with the whole world watching..." Charles started.

"Then I came a long way for nothing," Logan finished.

I bit my lip, "What are we going to do?" I asked, running a hand over my hair.

"Wait, there's more bad news," Hank informed. "I saw the report, they found traces of her blood in Paris. For all we know, they already have her DNA, which is all they'd need-"

"To create the Sentinels of the future," Logan finished again and sighed in frustration.

"Now there's a theory in Quantum Physics," Hank began. "That time is immutable. It's like a river, you can throw a pebble into it, create a ripple, but the current always corrects itself. No matter what you do, the river just keeps flowing in the same direction," Hank finished, and I looked up at him.

"What are you trying to say?" Logan questioned, arms crossed.

"What I'm saying is." Hank sighed. "What if the war is inevitable? What if she's meant to kill Trask? What if this is just simply who she is?" I looked back down at the floor.

"It sure seems like it," I murmured.

Charles shook his head slowly, "Just because someone stumbles, loses their way, doesn't mean they're lost forever." He said, as if reciting someone else's words. I lifted my head smiled, Charles I had known was slowly coming back. He looked at Hank. "No, I don't believe that theory, Hank." Charles disagreed. "And I cannot believe that that is who she is," Charles stated, and Hank nodded in agreement.

"Now ready the plane, we're going to Washington,"

Chapter Fourteen: The Battle of Washington D.C.