#made me cry at least once may it be out of fear sadness or frustration and/or anger! lovely. the main cast has also made me cry

[rosemary-bells]

nangong xu: *lore drop* goodb

meatbun: AND HERE COMES HUA BINAN WITH THE STEEL CHAIR

[rin-itoshi]

mc’s departure | obey me

summary: how the brothers would react to MC returning to the human world after a year in the devildom

contains: fluff , angst , ?!!!!&;@;&:idk

♯ LUCIFER

he’s the one to see you off, reminding you of the many things he had taught you so that you’d never forget.

his pride is much too large to admit that he will miss you to death and that he loves you dearly.

after you’re gone, he’s gone for hours at a time, holed up in his room with as much as work as he can take on.

he overworks himself with the intention of getting rid of the heavy emotion on his heart.

everything reminds you of him, even the paper clip on his desk that you had once found under his bed.

he gets easily irritable, feeling rather empty now that you’ve gone and left him alone in this now quiet house.

barely leaves his room, only works.

never cries but gets quite emotional when he finds a belonging you left behind.

♯ MAMMON

he cried every single night up until your departure but never showed you that side of him once

after you left, he cried non-stop, not caring if he looked like a cry baby in front of his brother’s who watched him with pitiful eyes.

once his eyes dried up, he soon never returned home as he partied all day and night.

he forced himself to attend parties after parties in order to forget about you.

it never works because everything reminds him of you.

sometimes he sits in his car and just stares into space, wondering what you’re doing now that you’re back on earth.

literally cannot stand the mention of you or your name or he may break down.

pretends to be okay but can’t go a day without getting upset about your absence.

money soon becomes pointless when he realizes no amount of cash will bring you back to the house of lamentation.

♯ LEVIATHAN

curled up in his bath tub and cried himself to sleep.

stopped leaving his room in general, continuously playing games all day and night.

couldn’t look at his ruri-chan figures because they somehow reminded him of you and how much you used to admire them with him.

every inch of his room has your touch on it and it makes his heart ache painfully.

struggles to attend online school but manages to make it through the day by zoning out in class.

claims he doesn’t care about a normie like you but genuinely misses you

sends you messages, forgetting you can no longer contact him without your D.D.D

writes about how much he misses you on his blog fully aware you’ll never see it.

♯ SATAN

reading. that’s all he does.

he hides in his room and reads every single book he has stacked up along his room, even rereading them if he finished everything.

uses books to get his mind off of you—or more so the lack of you.

will sometimes get excited about a stray cat he sees but stops himself when he realizes he can’t tell you because you aren’t here.

gets angry. a lot.

the smallest things set him off and he can longer feign a smile when he hears your name or anything related to you.

he misses you so much that he wants to tear out his hair and rip apart all these book page by page.

his room is in shambles and he can’t seem to think straight anymore.

♯ ASMODEUS

loses his interest in everything.

forgets his skin care routine and lets himself go without caring about it.

forces himself to go to parties and tries to sleep with someone to feel better but when it fails, he stops sleeping around in general.

like mammon, he doesn’t come home often to avoid seeing the house he had lived in with you happily.

cannot forget about you no matter what he does, and that frustrates him the most.

wishes he had done something to stop you or at least slept beside you one last time.

neglects himself for a while.

♯ BEELZEBUB

poor bby isn’t hungry for once.

can’t seem to eat now that you’re not sitting beside him, giggling about something he had said.

spends a lot of his time doing weight training and exercising to get his mind off of you.

misses all the meals you used to make on the nights you were in charge of cooking.

sometimes forgets you’re not around whenever he’s about to go downstairs to eat dinner.

clings to belphie in hopes to fill the gap in his heart.

accidentally broke down your room door in an angry fit when your absence finally set in.

♯ BELPHEGOR

either he sleeps even more or somehow gets less sleep.

no matter what, he feels sluggish and blank.

locks himself in the attic, almost as if he was never released in the first place.

even though he hated humans, your absence affected him the most after he had grown to love you as a human.

nearly went demon mode on diavolo when he found out that you were being sent back to the human world.

partially wishes he never met you but cherishes his memories with you too much to ever wish for that wholeheartedly.

sleeps in your bed often to hold onto your lingering scent that was fading quickly.

complains to beel that you were nothing but a stupid human who turns their backs on demons like them, but he never means anything he says.

“Why is it so quiet in here?” Diavolo asks as he opens the front door of the House of Lamentation with Barbatos at his side. The man’s golden eyes scanned the entry hall, noticing how it was so eerily dark and quiet that it almost felt like something out of a horror movie. It felt like no one had lived here in over two thousand years. “Hello?”

Upon receiving message from Diavolo, everyone had exited their rooms for the first time in a while, looking like they were dragged through the mud. The state they were in made Diavolo jump with surprise, shocked to find that even Lucifer looked like he was ill. “What happened to you guys?!”

“What is it that you need, Lord Diavolo?” Lucifer asked as he ran a hand through his hair to compose himself a bit in front of the red haired man. “If is nothing important, may I kindly ask you to leave and return another time?”

Diavolo sighed, shaking his head lightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what’s up with you guys, but I brought everyone’s favorite person along with me so sing your praises now!”

Mammon huffed, “If ya’ talking about that butler of yours, ain’t nobody care right now! We got bigger things to worry about!”

Barbatos simply smiled, taking no offense to the sly insult thrown his way.

Diavolo cocked a brow in confusion. “What? Of course not! It’s-“

The person stepped out from behind Diavolo, catching the attention of every single male in the room. The seven brother’s choked, staring at the one person they had longed for these past few days.

“[y/n]!” They shouted in unison, practically flying down the stairs to get to you. Mammon was the first to reach you, wrapping his arms around your entire body as he tackled you to the floor. The other brother’s climbed on top of you two, hugging you so tightly that you feared this would be where you’d die. “You’re back!”

Diavolo chuckled boisterously. “This is amusing! You lot are acting like you didn’t know they’d return today!” His laugh came to an abrupt stop when he saw the flat expressions coming from each and every brother. “Oh- Did I not inform you?”

“Obviously you didn’t.” Belphegor scoffed with a roll of the eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. “[y/n]...”

“Ya can’t ever leave again! I’ll seriously get angry at ya if this happens again! Ya either go to the human world with me or ya don’t go at all!” Mammon snapped, cupping your cheeks while getting dangerously close to your face to yell at you.

“I’ll severely punish you if you ever leave this manor without giving me a heads up as to where you’re off to. You’re not just an exchange student anymore. You’re special.” Lucifer explained, a panicked glint in his tired eyes as he reached out to pat your head gently with his gloved hand.

Satan sighed, pressing his forehead against your back. “If you leave again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control my emotions, so don’t leave.”

The avatar of lust whined loudly, “my beautiful self can’t handle a life without you! Don’t ever go anywhere without me again!” He clutched onto her waist tightly.

“Don’t... Don’t go anywhere.” Leviathan said with a sad frown on his lips as he held your hand, bringing it up to rest against his cheek. “It’s so empty without you.”

“Let’s eat dinner together, [y/n].” Beel suggested, his voice full of emotions as he drooled at the thought of dinner with you.

A million emotions ran through your veins as you sat there, basking in the warmth of their touch. It was overwhelming to receive so much love all at once but it was amazing.

A smile slowly crept onto your lips as you leaned into their touch, enjoying the way they clung to you as if you’d disappear any moment now. “I missed you guys, too.”

“What a lovely reunion!” Diavolo exclaimed happily, snapping a view blurry photos on his D.D.D to send to the group chat later.

After the heartfelt moment, they quickly disappeared upstairs to fix up their appearance before rushing downstairs to the kitchen where you stood. They clung to you like bugs to a light, hounding you about your sudden departure, only to find out that you had gone up there with Diavolo and Barbatos to help the man experience human world activities he had never gotten to try before. Diavolo was sure he had told them that but seeing as they were genuinely distressed, he assumed the message never reached.

Even though they were beyond pissed with Diavolo and his carelessness, they were just glad you were back. Them being here with you really was their idea of a perfect life.

a/n: UH YEA K GOODNIGHT

[theglitterypages]

25 and 54 for levi ackerman plzzzz?! ❤❤

Based on Prompt 25 and 54: ( 25. “I’ve never met someone like you.” “Because everyone in this world is different and there isn’t another face like mine? Duh?” )

(54. “Brat, I have nothing to lose.” He touched my head. “Or at least once had nothing to lose.”)

Prompts list

Requested by optamisticsmiles and @geese-goose18

Title: His Worst Nightmare

Pairings: Levi x fem! reader

Summary: You're one of the most skilled Captain of Survey Corps but during one of the expeditipn outside the walls some of your Squad's horses were killed. As a captain you wanted to save them, you knew you can survive outside the walls but your squad may not be able to because all of them are tired so you chose to be left outside the walls and you fend for yourself.

Warnings: None might appear to be a little sad though.

Word Count: 2000+

••••••

“Captain! Most of our horses were crushed by the Titans, we won't be able to meet with Commander Erwin and Captain Levi!”

Your grip on your weapon tightened as you saw the terrified look on your comrades' faces, most of them were young yet skilled but you knew this kind of scenario would really shake them up because this is dead end.

“Take the remaining horses and meet with Commander Erwin!” you shouted as you use your gear so you could slice the Titan's nape. “What the fuck are y'all looking at?! Go before the remaining horses get killed!” four of your subordinates looked at you with tears in their eyes, “We can't leave you here, Captain!” you cussed underneath your breath and swung towards an abnormal titan aimimg for the horses.

“We'll all die if you won't follow my orders. This is not a request, it is an order from your Captain, leave! Now!” You growled as you viciously charged yourself towards the Titan to kill it.

When it fell on the ground, lifeless, you immediately looked behind and a small smile made its way across your lips upon seeing your subordinates ride the remaining horses to save themselves.

You tore your eyes away from them and looked at five Titans charging themselves towards you, you only have one blade left and to say that you're exhausted is understatement, you knew that this is the day where you'll die and you'll embrace your death proudly and wholeheartedly.

Dying to save your young comrades would be the most glorious part of your career as a captain, your young comrades has so much to learn, they still have a lot to know but you've already done your part if you will die in here today your only regrets would be the fact that you can't see Levi in your last breath.

But you heard from your father who's a doctor that once a person dies, they will have flashbacks of their whole life, looking at the brighter side you'd probably see Levi on those flashbacks before you die.

“Let's finish this motherfuckers.”

°°°°°

Levi was obviously anxious as he kept on looking behind him, your squad should be here by this time, you should be tailing them now already but he still can't see you not even a sign of any of your squads.

“Levi, we should go faster.”

“She's still out there, if you want to you can go but I'll wait for her...” he whispered in his shaky voice, before it was so damn easy for him to go on because he had accepted the fact that not everyone could go back alive and he has mastered of masking his grief whenever another comrade has fallen.

But if he's gonna lose you the way he lost his comrades, he would lose his sanity, he would probably go mad once that happens.

“Squads of Captain YN approaching!”

Hope bloomed in Levi's heart as he heard the announcement of your squad's arrival but when he looked back there are only two horses with four people and you're not one of them.

He felt like his heart stopped beating when he tried looking back further but still no sign of you, he decided to shout at your subordinates. “Where is your captain?” he asked in a firm tone and none of them answered.

The teens just looked down and one by one, they broke down into tears. “We're very sorry Captain Levi.” Erwin overheard the conversation and he felt himself go numb. He doesn't want to believe it, he's not losing one of his greatest Captain, not today...

“Can you please stop fucking crying and answer me! Where the fuck is my girl?!”

“She ordered us to leave her, she faced the Titans alone, we're sorry...”

Levi immediately pulled the reins backward, halting the horse from running. “I'm going back for her.” Erwin also halted and looked at Levi as he shook his head.

“By the walls, Levi! We can't afford to lose two of our greatest Captains today. We have to move forward.”

“I'm sorry Erwin. She's the only one that I've got, losing her means I'm nothing.”

“Levi!” Erwin called out but Levi still chose to go back to the forest where you should have been.

As he get closer to the forest his heart beats faster and faster at every moment, his determination of finding you kept him going, he would never leave you, not when you're the only one that he has.

On his way towards the heart of the forest he encountered three Titans and he chose to let out his frustration in killing those three viciously.

When he arrived at the heart of the forest, he immediately looked around, there were no bloods but there's still some remaining of the titans that hasn't evaporated yet.

Which only means one thing;

You're alive.

“Brat!” he exclaimed as he saw your figure laying down on a big branch of tree while you hold your weapons close to you, eyes half closed as you breathe heavily.

You could hear his shouts, he's telling you not to go to sleep but as much as you want to do it your eyelids felt heavy, you can feel him gently slapping your cheeks in attempting of waking you but it obviously doesn't work.

“You can't close your eyes, no. Please baby, don't. We made a promise didn't we? You need to stay with me, you promised to stay with me.”

Levi kept you close in his chest as he rides his horse, he silently prayed that there would be no more titans to appear because dealing with them wouldn't be his priority, he has to make sure you'll get back safe, your head was wounded and he's not sure of how serious the injury was so he did what he could and used his shirt as a bandage to stop the bleeding.

“Lev..”

“Just hang in there, don't sleep. I'll tell you stories so don't close your eyes and hold onto me tightly huh? Can you do that for me baby?” he begged tears streaming down his cheeks, the way you called out his name sounded so weak and every time that he'll look at you, he could see your eyes closed and fear filled his heart, something he has never felt years before meeting you.

After his friends died, he made himself tough, promised not to get attached again so he wouldn't have to lose his mind over and over again whenever he lose a comrade but you came along, he wanted to blame Erwin and Hanji for introducing you to him but he actually would thank them, because he never felt this way before.

The way you made him feel at ease, every time you'll hug him he feels contented and peaceful and whenever he feels your lips on his it is his paradise and his days without you in his side is hell.

So he couldn't afford to lose you now, not today not forever.

“I—I love you, Levi. Take care of yourself for me hmm? I'm sorry if I—”

“I'm not listening so whatever you want to say, say it to me when we get back inside the walls.”

Of course, he can hear you clearly but he's not strong enough to hear you say those words he doesn't want to hear you saying that you love him as if you're saying goodbye and that's not what he wants.

“Lev, I'm tired.”

“Baby just hold on, don't leave me please. I'm begging you.”

As he bursted into tears, his mind was filled with memories of you and him together.

Flashback

“Once we eliminated all of the titans, I would open a book shop and I will read for the rest of my life.”

“Where am I in your plans, brat?” he asked his arms wrapped around you as you rested your head in his hard chest. “You would be spending your days sitting beside me while I read.” you playfully said, pressing your lips in his jaw.

Levi looked down at you with a smirk, “That's not so bad but we should open a teashop with a bookshop inside it so people can read and drink tea.” you chuckled. His love for tea is really strong and to be honest there are four of you in this relationship.

Tea, Books, you and Levi.

Well at least there's no other girls, there's just tea and his cleaning obsession, “We'll do that and I'll tell Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Jean, Connie and Sasha to stay with us. I will be making apple pies and they would love it.” you've grown fond of the teens from the 104th, probably because you've seen how they've grown, how the playful teenagers became brave soldiers ready to fight for the humanity.

And you really want this nightmare to end so those kids would have the normal life, “I didn't know we're also planning to open an orphanage now.” he said, sarcasm perfectly implied.

“Quit talking as if you don't like them.”

“If you want children we can make a lot.” he playfully dipped his head down to press his lips on yours and you hold onto his hair as you returned his kisses, when he pulled away, his grey eyes were sparkling as a small smile made its way across his lips.

“God, I’ve never met someone like you.”

“Because everyone in this world is different and there isn’t another face like mine? Duh?”

Levi stared at you, left dumbfounded of how you sassily replied to his heartwarming statement, “You're picking up my attitude, it's alarming.” he sighed pinching your nose as you slapped his hand away.

“Your fault not mine.” You glared with a pout.

End of Flashback

“You can't sleep because our brats are waiting, Mikasa, Armin, Eren, Jean, Sasha and Connie is waiting for us to be back. We'll still eliminate the titans right? We have so much plans baby, don't leave me please.”

“I'm sorry Levi.”

°°°°°°

“Captain...” Levi lazily looked back at him just to see Armin standing awkwardly as he rubbed his nape, “You should eat and go get some sleep.” Armin told him politely, the blond teen doesn't want to make the Captain mad especially he knows what Levi is going through.

“No. Leave my office now.”

“Captain, we know that it's not easy but you can't sacrifice your health.” Eren appeared bebind Armin and soon after, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie and Jean appeared, each one of them carrying different kind of food but Sasha is holding a container of water because the others forbid him in bringing the food, knowing that she might get tempted to eat it.

“Leave me alone and let me work in my office quietly loud brats. None of you knows what I feel.”

“We do. You're not the only one who's sad, we missed Captain YN too but this is beyond our control. The least we can do is to take care of you because we know that she wouldn't want you to be like this.” Mikasa said, her voice devoid of any emotions as she walked towards the Captain as she placed down a tray of food on top of his table.

“We believe that you're old enough to eat by yourself and we wouldn't have to shove that spoon on your mouth just so you could eat.” Mikasa looked at the Captain blankly and when Levi looked up at her, he narrowed his eyes.

“It's really scary how you sounded like me some times, fine, I'll eat so you brats would shut up.”

The teens' faces lit up as they watch Levi eat, he still doesn't look like his usual self because of what happened but they're all not fine but they also knew that they will be.

“Levi! Captain YN is awake.” Hanji said in between hear breaths, Levi didn't respond and left his unfinished food while the teens followed him, running so they could match his pace.

Levi opened the door of the room and he saw you sitting on the bed, the bandage was still on your head, there was a clueless look on your face when your gaze landed at him and Levi immediately ran to hug you tightly.

You let out a sound of surprise and Levi pulled away thinking that he hurt you. “I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened to us? Do you want some water?” you smiled and shook your head, your gaze landed at the flower vase beside your table and Levi saw how your eyes sparkled when you saw the white Carnation.

“I recognize this flower...” you whispered in a soft voice, you reached out for the flower vase before glancing at the man next to you.

“But I don't know you. Who are you?”

The moment you said that, the teens arrived and they heard everything you said. You heard their gasps and you innocently looked up at them, “Hello kiddos, the nurse told me that I've been out for two weeks. I think I missed something, this man suddenly came in here to hug me.” Armin felt cold sweats on his forehead, he doesn't have any idea how to handle this situation especially they saw how heartbroken Levi is.

“Captain, he's your—” before Jean could even finish his sentence, Levi already cut him off, “Leave, brats. Let me talk to her alone.” you frowned at him before glancing at the kids, “Sir, you're not even suppose to be here. Why are you asking them to leave? I know them.” Eren didn't have to hear Levi's reply to you, he just dragged his friends away from that room, scared of what would happen next.

The room was filled with deafening silence after the teens left, Levi was looking down as his breathing got heavier at every minute that passes by while you were still sat on the bed still looking at him cluelessly.

“You don't have to remember me, just let me take care of you, this is better than losing you completely.” he whispered as he took the flower vase from you, placing it back to where it was. “Do you remember anything aside from the kids? Like how you got injured?” he spoke in a calmest way he could even if he's damn broken inside, the first thing he had imagine once you wake up is you hugging him, telling him that you're not leaving him just like what you've promised but here he is sitting on a chair beside your bed while you don't remember him.

When he didn't get any response from you he decided to stand up as his grey eyes got dulled again, it lost the sparks it has earlier.

“You're probably uncomfortable of having a stranger here. I'll go get the nurse.” he turned his back on you to leave but he heard your voice.

“Levi Ackerman, you'll just leave your girlfriend like this then?”

It only took him three seconds to return to where he was, his arms immediately wrapped around yours as he sobbed on the crook of your neck. “I was at the end of my wits, the whole world can forget about me but not you. Don't pull that shit again.” he scolded, you wanted to chuckle or laugh but you couldn't because you heard his sobs, he's like a child as he hug you tightly as if scared that you'll suddenly disappear.

You slowly pushed him away and wiped away his tears as you comb his hair, brushing off some strands of his hair that's hiding his eyes from you. “Sorry, it was a joke and it's obviously not funny.” Levi sighed as he closed his eyes before a low chuckle escaped from his lips, “I can't believe you even picked up my terrible sense of humour.” he whispered weakly as he pulled you close for another hug. For two hellish weeks he drowned himself in paperworks and in between those times he'll be looking after you while you sleep and it drained him a lot.

“You lost weight.” you stated. You memorized every inch of Levi's body and 2 weeks of being unconscious wouldn't change that fact, you knew that he lost weight, those dark circles around his eyes also suggests the fact that he didn't have lots of sleep.

“You scared me.”

“Where was the guy who told me once that he has nothing to be afraid of 'cause he got nothing to lose?” you brows raised and Levi rolled his eyes before leaning in to kiss you quickly.

“Brat, I have nothing to lose.” He touched your head, his grey eyes looking down on yours as a genuine smile made its way across his lips. “Or at least once had nothing to lose.” he whispered before cupping your face for another kiss, much longer than the first ones, it was also slower as if he's still trying to make sure that everything is real, he's still trying to make sure that his worst nighmare wouldn't happen.

His nightmare where he lost you.

[yououui]

" i'm trying so hard, but... i can't stop myself from falling in love with you. " - but it's kurogane saying it! because you know he tried to stop himself before deciding this was just his lot in life and it was time to wife that boy

I accidentally wrote a 5 page fic of Kurogane just being a lovesick idiot enjoy

They sit in silence after Tomoyo leaves them. Kurogane wants to yell at her a bit because what the hell is she playing at dressing the mage like that?! but it turns out that cutting off an arm is exhausting and he doesn’t have the energy to fight her. He does give her a glare as she exits the room and she winks back at him.

Tea is brought for them eventually and Fai carefully pours them each a warm glass. “How are you feeling?” Fai asks while handing Kurogane his cup, the first words spoken since he socked Kurogane upside the head.

Kurogane shrugs, a natural instinct that proves to be a mistake as pain shoots across his left side. Fai notices his wince and moves closer in concern, like he thinks Kurogane will need to be caught before fainting, but Kurogane waves him off. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“And in pain,” Fai says. He almost sounds angry, but the sad look on his face betrays his tone.

“It’s not that bad,” Kurogane tells him instead. “As long as I don’t move too much.”

Fai regards the empty sleeve hanging at Kurogane’s side and the white bandages wrapped tightly around his chest. “You’re such… an idiot,” He says eventually. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Thought I made it clear a while ago,” Kurogane responds, as easily as ever. “I’ll do anything to protect the people I love.”

Fai laughs, though it sounds more like a sob, and shakes his head. “If you love me then you’re even more of an idiot.”

“Trust me, I know,” Kurogane says. When Fai lifts his eye, Kurogane offers him a small smile just so the idiot doesn’t get the idea in his head that Kurogane is serious. Somehow, even for as upset as he is, it gets Fai to smile weakly as well. That gives Kurogane the encouragement he needs to continue. “Y’know mage, I’m trying so hard—I’ve been trying for a while, but…”

But…?

When did it start exactly? When did the annoyance towards the insufferable man sitting beside him turn into curiosity? When did he begin finding himself wanting to know more about him—when did he begin to care?

He can’t be certain but Outo springs to mind first. The moment Fai’s casual admittance that he wanted to die spiked anger in Kurogane. Anger not towards Fai, as Fai believed, but towards the mere idea of him going through with it. And the moment he saw the mage’s ribbon on the ground, no body to be seen as demons surrounded him and that anger returned like a tsunami wave engulfing him until he could barely see or breathe.

And the relief when he saw the idiot was actually alive. And the frustration at himself for feeling so relieved for someone that didn’t care about Kurogane or himself. Kurogane knew that it was pointless to let himself be interested in the mage; Fai was a liar that carefully kept them all at arms length and Kurogane had no idea who he would see when the mask finally fell.

But he didn’t want Fai to die. As grating as Fai could be, Kurogane wanted him to stick around. He didn’t care about Fai’s past, but he wanted to understand him more. He wanted to know what he liked—liquor, music, cooking, annoying Kurogane, cats, dogs?—and what he disliked—hangovers, waking up early, pickles, personal questions, green tea. He wanted to understand what had Fai so guarded, what had him so afraid, and he wanted Fai to understand that he could let the walls down every now and then, that Kurogane would protect him from whatever he was running from.

And then Yama, Piffle, Lecourt, seeing those walls break down brick by careful brick. Feeling the strength of Fai’s magic for the first time as it engulfed them, the sheer power of it suffocating and brilliant. And Kurogane felt a brief spark of hope that maybe, maybe, Fai was beginning to learn that caring wasn’t such a bad thing.

And then the fear that came with the weight of Fai’s limp body in his arms, the way his blood fell like morbid tears and stained usually flawless skin. Kurogane had felt that once before as a child, the night his life was burned to ruins but he still refused to let his mother go. Kurogane also refused to let Fai go; he needed to feel the mage’s breath and heartbeat, no matter how weak. He needed to know with certainty that Fai was still alive.

It may have began earlier, but it was then that he realized that his minor curiosity had grown into something he couldn’t control or bury or pretend not to notice. In that moment, his worldview narrowed down until he could only see Fai, the noises around them dulled except for Fai’s wavering breath and weak voice, and suddenly anything else he’d ever wanted didn’t seem to matter. He made the wish and paid the price and bound himself to Fai, a man who would keep running seemingly forever.

Well then, to hell with Nihon—he could find a new home or wander around new worlds with Fai until the day he died. He could give up his own life, tear out his own heart, anything it would take to keep that idiot alive for one more day.

It was only after it was over and the price paid that Kurogane reminisced about his parents and realized that there was a word for what he was feeling.

“But I can’t stop myself from falling in love with you.”

Fai says nothing but the breath he takes is sharp enough to cut the stillness around them. Because sure, Kurogane loved him, he cared, they were friends after all. But to fall in love…

It was something he knew he shouldn’t feel as soon as he realized it. He knew he should avoid it. If he tried to pursue someone who did not want to be chased, it would only end in disaster.

And gods did he try to stop it before it reached that point. Kurogane had heard of heartbreak of course, through others lamenting the loss of their beloved or reading about it in books, but he’d never experienced it himself. He didn’t understand how such a feeling could overwhelm someone completely and scoffed at characters in stories that threw themselves from high windows or drank poison rather than live a day without their love.

But then he felt it, that hot knife of rejection stabbing him straight through the chest. Each cold word and hostile glare twisted the blade until he was certain his heart had been crushed to a gruesome, mangled mess, and yet there were still tender bits of it left for Fai to sink his claws into. And then Kurogane understood the windows and the poison and honestly, he’d rather cut off his other arm than ever experience that again.

But at least Fai was alive. At least he was there, and Kurogane would take the bitter pain and more for Fai. Only for Fai.

Kurogane chuckles to himself now, the entire thing so miserable it’s almost humorous. If the person he was before Tomoyo cast him away could see him now, he’d probably call himself a moron, just like those characters in the stories. Kurogane never knew one person could change him so much. “Even when you hated me, I couldn’t help it.”

Fai’s head falls forward and he digs the heel of his palm into his eye as if it could shove his tears back inside. His other hand trembles and fists his kimono so tightly, Kurogane is worried he’ll tear right through the silk.

“I never—hated you,” Fai gasps, shoulders trembling. Kurogane feels bad for making Fai cry—Fai’s cried a lot recently. It comforts Kurogane to hear the truth, though, and he thinks the mage needs it. He has about five lifetimes of tears built up. “I couldn’t. So I tried to make you hate me but—gods, even after all I did... how I treated you…! You still wouldn’t...”

Kurogane turns his body a bit so that he can reach Fai with his right hand. He ruffles Fai’s hair and the indignant squeak Fai lets out as his head is pushed down feels entirely worth it. “Guess we’re both idiots then,” Kurogane tells him quietly.

Fai peers up at him through his hair that Kurogane has made a mess of. His face is shining with tears, his cheeks splotched red and his eye swollen and Kurogane marvels that such a beautiful person could ever exist in the mortal world.

Fai weakly—playfully—swats Kurogane’s hand away and wipes his sleeve against his cheeks. Kurogane snorts, humored that the outfit Tomoyo carefully picked for Fai to wear for a very specific reason has been reduced down to a rag to dry his face. “I think Kuro-sama must be on all kinds of strange medicine,” Fai says with a fragile but honest smile. “He’s in such a good mood and saying all kinds of weird things.”

“Mm. Don’t expect to hear this shit when I wake up tomorrow,” Kurogane tells him with a nod. He’s still smiling though, smiling like a lovesick idiot with hearts in his eyes but damn it he’s been through too much and has almost lost Fai too many times to care about it now. Hearing the slightly teasing tone in the mage’s voice and seeing him here, alive and at Kurogane’s side, soothes his torn up heart and begins stitching the pieces back together.

Fai’s smile grows as well, the fragile edges chipping away and leaving behind a look of pure happiness Kurogane has never seen on him before. Fai reaches over, letting go of his own kimono to grab the empty sleeve of Kurogane’s. “I’m sorry,” He says. “And thank you. But never do something like this again.”

“Don’t almost get yourself killed again and I won’t have to,” Kurogane tells him, grinning.

Fai nods, still smiling. “Fine. You’ll live a long, long life with me by your side, Kuro-sama. I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

It’s probably the strangest proposal in the history of any world, but it’s one Kurogane is happy to accept.

[shai-manahan]

28 with Alex. I just need a little bit of our caring brother🥺

All right. Giving this a shot. I mean, I feel like I managed to make this a little softer compared to the ones before, I think?

Can't resist including hints every time.

Alex - 28. grabbing the other’s hand so they don’t fall

An eerie atmosphere emanates from the air. Everything's dark. Everything's cold. The floor is full of dust and dirt, cobwebs populating the corners, and the walls, despite all the grand embellishments decorating their surface, lack a sense of life to them—stripped away of meaning.

And you stand there, right in the middle of it all, thinking of what may have been. Thinking of what your childhood house would have looked like if you had stayed.

Memories invade your head as you continue walking, as you continue wandering around the lifeless shell you once called your home. They come in like a sort of tandem—the happiest moments overlapping with the ugliest ones—the most painful ones. The fights, the unveiled secrets, the deaths. It all seems pointless when you think about them in hindsight, but you weren't alone, were you?

You didn't face any of it alone.

He was there. With you. Always with you.

"Let me see again."

The image of a young Alex kneels in front of you—no, the eight-year-old you—as you approach the balcony. The two of them are about ten paces away from your position, your grumpy young self trying to shrug away from Alex's hold, and you find yourself focusing on that sight—that specific memory that has held you together during your early years.

You push the others away. You bury them, deep below, all to make way for this one. And you watch. You're the spectator today, not the actor, and so you watch.

"What did I say about sneaking out alone?" Alex whispers as he lifts the kid's chin, checking for bruises and injuries.

"I'm old enough."

"No, you're not. Not old enough to be climbing roofs on your own. Not yet."

"And it's okay when you're with me?"

He shrugs. "That's what they call... adult supervision."

"You're fourteen!"

"Shh," Alex raises a finger against his lips. "Do you wanna get caught?"

He glances behind him, right towards your direction, and you find yourself clinging to a curtain and using it to hide yourself in the dark. You know you don't have to—it's just a feeble memory, after all—but you also know why you end up doing it anyway.

"Okay, maybe I'm not an adult yet—" he flicks your younger self's forehead with a finger— "but at least I'd never be so clumsy with my head." The way Alex did it wasn't a hard one as you remember, but you did bump that same head when you messed up with your stunt, so of course it hurt the kid. It hurt you.

The child swats his hand angrily. It wasn't just the frustration of your brother's teasing, or of a failed climb. It was everything else—the reason why you had to sneak out in the first place. This house. Your parents. The sad, dull life you've had enough of. They felt it all. You felt it all. The child was ignorant, totally unaware of the luck they've always had by their side simply for having a life like this—boring, yes, but safe; not like everyone else's. But you know better now, don't you? And so will they.

But of course you were still a snotty kid back then, an angry one who felt like everyone was going against them, so you witness the kid pushing Alex away, running away, sobbing, crying—you step back a little as they come rushing, and it all plays back just exactly the way you remember it.

The eight-year-old you, going for the stairs, eager to get away from it all—no fixed destination in mind, no concrete plan on what to do. Alex, trailing after every step—he may have been good at climbing, but he was a slow ass runner.

And there come the stairs.

The child trips. The child sees the world go slow for the first time in their life. Eyes on the ground. Eyes on their impending collision.

Until someone pulls them back.

"Are you hurt?" They're both lying on the ground now, Alex hugging the child protectively, slowly separating as he checks over his sibling. "Hey. Are you hurt? Anything feel weird? Hey."

But the child wasn't done fighting yet. They wanted to get away. Wanted to get out of this suffocating place. Wanted to be free. "Let me go!"

"Shh. Let's get you back to your room, talk about this tomorrow."

"No!"

"Look, you don't want Mom to see us here, do you?" Alex spares another glance around. "I sure as heck don't. Where would you even go this time?"

"Away."

"Away," he repeats mockingly.

"They won't care anyway." The child glares at him. "They'd never care."

Silence.

At first, you begin thinking that was the end of the memory, that the rest is gone, forgotten and left within the lowest depths of your brain, then you see a flicker of doubt in Alex's face, gone only after a second.

What did he know?

What did he keep from you?

"They care." He stares back at the child, eyes unflinching. "They care, okay? They love both of us, and they will always care. They're just... there's just a lot going on. Give them time, and everything will be better. Everything will be fine."

The child looks away. "You can't promise that."

Another round of silence.

"Maybe not. But how about this?" He gently touches the child's cheek to turn their focus back to him, his other hand clutching the kid's shivering ones. "If things don't go better, if they keep behaving like that, I'll still be here. For you. Anytime you need me, I'll be here. Right beside you. Anytime. We can be a team of our own."

He takes a deep sigh, and he adds, "Even when the whole world turns against you."

No.

You know that didn't happen. He didn't say that, not that time. Not at that moment. It was in a different situation, with a different meaning behind it. It wasn't supposed to happen here.

Nevertheless, the last fragments of the memory fade, the image of you and your brother slowly slinking away into the darkness. Like the others before.

And you're alone. Once again.

You vaguely wonder if that's the last time you'd hear those words.

The words that made you accept this as your home. Your refuge.

You press your palms against your eyes. Whose fault was it? Why you? Why this family? Why this city? You've had a lot of answers by now—most of them breaking every single hope you once held onto—but for every answer, another question emerges.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Then you hear your name. You remove your hands from your eyes, scanning for the voice you just heard. His voice. Maybe the scene you were seeing earlier wasn't over yet. Maybe it's just one of the voices you keep hearing, slowly driving you insane. Maybe it's just your broken mind finally making up things on its own.

But then it comes again.

"Is that you?" The voice cracks. "Is that really you?"

You turn around in a swift motion, and you see him, for the first time in years. The ragged, broken look on his face tells you how much he's gone through—no words needed—but it's still him. Your brother. Your stubborn, self-sacrificing brother. His hair appears more unkempt than ever, no longer the cleaned up look he always used to boast about, and he seems... much older, as if more than a few years have passed. But it's still him.

Alex.

Your brother.

Your refuge.

Your home.

The hand that had always pulled you back from danger, no matter what it cost.

The hand that had persevered to protect you from this unforgiving world.

The hand that had always stayed behind to catch you as you fall.

He's there.

He's right there.

"You're alive." The words come out of his lips as a whisper. In between his tears, over and over. In between the incoherent words he attempts on saying.

"You're alive."

Alex walks closer, one step in front of the other, and your mind struggles to comprehend the sight that unfolds before you. He's really there. It's not a sham. Not a trap. Not your imagination. So when he proceeds to hug you, you let him. When he proceeds to clutch you tighter, in fear that you'd leave him again, you let him.

When he decides to stay there for a while, not saying anything, not doing anything else, you let him.

Maybe you're not too late.

Maybe there is hope.

For you.

For the both of you.

And for everyone else.

[sparklingpax]

Farewell, Brother

a/n: Um um um. y’all know how the interaction actually went down, but I found a drabble from a little while ago where I kinda made my own re-imagining of it..........and so I hope it’s not too dramatic or...wrong? I just wanted to write this and well, after reading it over, I thought it would be ok to share....so lmk what y’all think! 

....go easy on me tho...as usual, I’m nervous as hell posting anything I write....and it’s a little old....anyway *gulp* here you go ^~^ 

(and as always, sorry for typos or grammar mistakes, ooc-ness, or places where I accidentally forgot I reworded a sentence so there’s the thought and then the thought again--)

///

All good things come to an end. It’s just a truth of life--however sad it may be. But honestly speaking, aren’t all of them? These truths.

...

Megatron growled, optics glistening with such contempt that Orion felt his insides sqirm. He had a tendency to do that, and it served its intended purpose well, that glare did.

“I was a fool to hope fate could smile in my path,” he spat.

“Megatronus--”

“Don’t call me that!” He cut into Orion’s plea. “I am my own self, my own mech now. I chose myself name. I am Megatron. You know that already.”

Orion felt guilty. He’d forgotten in the hours passed.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured solemnly, bowing his head.

“You’re….sorry?” Megatron’s tone dripped of disbelief. As if that was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to hear, and Orion had said just that. 

Something bad was coming. 

If only Orion had known what to say, but for once, he wasn’t knowledgeable in the field of speech...or de-escalation. 

And in a moment he’d needed it most.

If only he could have saved their friendship, and none of what followed would have come to be.

“This--this unattainable reality that all but grazed my fingertips,” his eyes were daggars that swiped and cut. 

He lunged forward, seemingly an impulsive act, and grabbed the smaller mech by the throat.

Orion let out a small noise of surprise before he cut it short.

“And you stole it!”

“M-Megatron, I’d do no such--”

“You stole it!” He barked, his voice rising. “You played with me, Orion!”

Orion pawed at the hands around his throat, fighting the urge to cry out. Resentment began to bubble up inside him.

Did Megatron truly have so little trust in others--in Orion--to instantly assume he’d planned all this? 

Planned asking to become a leader--a Prime, no less--when he’d rather study alone in his room? 

Plan to steal his friend’s greatest dream?

He bared his teeth. That resentment was beginning to seep into his bloodstream.

I did no such thing, Megatron. I’d never betray you. How dare you even think that.

But out came none of those words.

Instead, he held his gaze as unwaveringly harsh as he could manage, training it on his friend. Megatron, meanwhile, hardened his own glare, like lava solidifying itself to ashy rock.

Obstinate, inconvincible rock.

He wouldn’t stand for this.

Being picked up and threatened like this was not what Orion expected from his friend. From anyone, really, but least of all Megatron. 

“Let go of me!! Or are you such an animal like the beasts you fight?!” 

He snapped his words like a whip, yanking with sudden force at Megatron’s grip. Force he’d learned in their self-defense training sessions together. 

The silver mech’s optics widened. It was like he realized something, and jolted back to something like control again. 

He released his hold and Orion felt the ground beneath his feet again.

But the apprehension didn’t lift quite yet. Megatron took one step back, as if disgusted to be near Orion. 

As if pressed by that unseen pressure of tension.

He looked the smaller mech up and down, vibrating with negative emotions Orion was sure he could feel.

Or was it...his own fear? But, why would he be afraid?

I did no wrong...I did...I didn’t do anything, right?

“You,” Megatron growled in a low tone, one that withered the fire of anger Orion was feeling.

“Brother--”

“We are not brothers, scholar!” He cut Orion off, purposefully using the impersonal term. “Not anymore...”

The look in his eyes was one Orion realized he had only ever seen directed elsewhere, never one he thought he’d be staring into himself. One he was sure the monstrosities of Kaon’s pits had seen after striking the gladiator and his pride a little too hard. 

One they saw before they died. 

There was a bitterness swimming up to the surface, yet a sadness pooled at its base, far below. He was clearly trying to stay in control of the situation, to seem as if his anger, and not his unstable emotions, was the driving force of it all.

But he’s like a wounded beast. He’s hurt.

Orion didn’t like that look. But he didn’t like this, either.

He uncomfortably looked to a tree in the distance.

I didn’t hurt you. I didn’t.

For a moment, Orion considered trying once more--as his gentle, naive, forgiving nature was wont to do. At least, as others said he was. 

He opened his mouth to speak.

But when he refocused his gaze, Orion felt his own frustration close his mouth.

No, he realized. 

Nothing he could say would sway Megatron. 

It was just like when they first fought. Except this time, they wouldn’t be making up. 

Orion felt a deep ache in his spark upon realizing that he’d never see the burgundy-silver mech on friendly terms again.

They’d never sit in a park and speak of philosophy and art again.

They’d never share a meal and laugh over each other’s idiosyncrasies again.

There would be no fondness between them again.

He had lost his only brother, even though their sparks had never touched in creation. Because Megatron had felt more to him than even family ever could. 

I didn’t want this, I truly didn’t want this. I said what was in my spark, and you said what was in yours. I didn’t want them to hear, I didn’t to leave my place in the spectators, I....didn’t want to even leave my study...

“Never look to me that way again, scholar.”  

I came....to help you....

“You are a traitor.” 

I...am not the Council.

Orion watched wordlessly as Megatron bowed his helm and turned. Its rims glimmered for a fleeting moment with the golden light from a setting sun, somewhere in the distance.

Gaze hardened with resignation, the newly-named Prime stood still. His eyes had remained on the broken, angry mech as he trudge slowly down the street, washed in golden hues of the sunset.

And then the shadows, the further he ventured from Orion. 

For once, Orion hated the sight of the golden skies. 

Because under them he’d been given memories, and under them, they’d been ripped away as if unimportant in the first place. 

///

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Asorted ADA x Reader | The "happy" friend

BSD misc. Reader insert

Warnings- mentions of suicidal thoughts. Mentions of Verbal and mild physical abuse.

The happy co-worker, happy friend, happy ex, happy girlfriend. No matter what you pushed it on to yourself. So many of your peers had it worse. Look at Dazai, he manages to smile and joke despite his pain. You thought you could do it too. So, that’s what you did. Since you joined the agency. You never let them see you break down. They never got to see you cry. They never got to see you under anything but happy. Even if you were annoyed, you held onto your smile. There were so many orphans among your mighty crew of detectives. The ones you were the closest to, you confirmed them to be orphans from a young age. Dazai, parentless at 14. He may have been an orphan for even longer than that. You just know he didn’t have any at 14. Then there was Atsushi, who had lived his whole childhood abused in an orphanage. Kyoka, she lost her parents to her ability. The others you were not too sure about, but the sneaking suspicion this organization was full of gifted orphans, was high.

Then there was you. A girl, no older than Dazai. Not the best looking, at least that’s what you told yourself. The others had no idea about your insecurities regarding your body. Maybe you were too tall, too short, too thin, too fat. Some days were better than others. Some days the situation flipped. There was always something you could nit-pick about yourself. Your mind wandered constantly back to the words of your parents. “Not skinny enough, too skinny. Not fit enough, but don’t be too fit. Men don’t like to be threatened.” you had parents. Maybe they weren't the best but you had parents. They were a bit abusive with words but never had they placed a finger on you. Well, there were a few times but it was normal right? For a parent to lose their cool and lash out once or twice, maybe even a handful of times over the years. They judged you for your choice of occupation and the people you hung around. They called you out on outfits and the way you acted. That’s why you were here now. Far from them, but their words still haunted you. In truth, you feared them but wanted their approval.

Today, you stood with your coworkers finishing up the latest job. You hummed in your outfit. It covered your arms, which you already bandaged but wanted to keep that a secret. The things you did to keep this false joy were extreme. The things you took in impacted your state. Listening to Atsushi, holding Kyoka when she broke down. Hell, you were even there to scold Dazai and occasionally listen to his drunk words. The tales of how much he had suffered broke you. Even Kunikida learned to confide in you. He would tell you about his stress, and the pain he felt about past mistakes that resulted in his ideals being missed or broken. There was nobody in the agency who didn’t trust you with their problems. To them, you had none. They were okay with talking to you. They felt better after talking to you. That’s how it worked.

Biting the inside of your cheek, your feet moved to Kunikida. You knew he’d want to talk about this one. He hated seeing people killed before his eyes. He’d already nearly beaten Dazai for letting the boy die. Atsushi was off in the corner, fidgeting around with the tight atmosphere. You had arrived a little too late to prevent the death of the kidnapped child. Things like this happened, mistakes were bound to happen but… they had larger effects on some than they did on others. Dazai was facing the wall, his hands in fists. His head against the wall. You could tell he was blaming himself. Atsushi just felt awkward being here. “Kunikida?” you whispered trying to keep a joyful yet soft tone to your voice. Your hand reached out to tap his shoulder only for him to slap it away with a heavy glare.

“How can you smile like that? Somebody died in front of us and all you do is smile! You're always smiling no matter what happens! Do you even understand what’s going on right now? We failed (Y/n). Do you need somebody to explain to you what you should be doing right now?” his voice kept raising pitch by pitch. It sent flashes along your eyes. The way your father's voice would start soft and gradually get louder by the second, until he slammed a fist against the wall and screamed at you. Those yells always ended in the verbal assault. The comments on your form, the comments on your social life, and the useless degrees and jobs you had.

The wince you suppressed went unnoticed. The shaking of your hands is easily hidden behind you. Hands clasped together as your eyes trailed Kunikida. His body stood towering over you. Heavily glaring as he turned away. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” you tilted your head to play this off with a smile.

It was no help to your situation. He pushed past you, heading for the building exit he froze in the doorway. “We have to go tell a parent we failed to save a child's life. Do you understand how hard that is for a parent? How could I be alright? How can any of us be alright?” he was one step from overfilling your glass. The cracks forming were starting to show. Your eyes unable to meet his eyes. “You can be heartless and an idiot at times. Smiling in the presence of death.” there it was, the same words you had gotten at your grandmother's funeral. You’d tried to stay strong for your mother. You only knew how to smile. You knew no other way of staying strong. Hearing it from a friend sent you into overdrive.

“Shut up.” you hissed through clenched teeth.

This time Atsushi seemed to join in. shocked by your sudden negativity. He had never seen you like this. None of them had ever seen you drop a smile. “Are you mad?” Atsushi asked before you shook it off and smiled.

“Huh? Of course not! I'm just as normal as ever! I don’t know what you mean? Did I seem mad? Sorry, guess I just let that slip. I meant to say you shouldn’t assume I'm heartless, just cause I'm still… happy! I feel the pain you guys feel over this! I just think we should move over this!” giving a closed smile, Kunikida's raised voice washed over the room again.

“Move past?! We could have saved them if we had been a bit faster in getting here! The kid wasn’t supposed to die! Stop smiling and grasp the situation! Stop being insensitive to your acting just like Dazai does sometimes!” Were you that bad? Was it really that bad to just want to stay happy? “You have everything perfect, you can’t even grasp the situation!” you couldn’t do this anymore. His words were starting to turn from accusations to frustration. He was taking his pain out on you. Instead of doing it in the kind form he normally used, he was using anger to express how hurt he was right now.

Unable to take any more of the words he spat, you dropped it all. His words were getting on the triggering side. The words he spat slowly started to inch closer and closer to your parents' words. Words that made you have to act like this. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered trying to keep your tears locked inside. It was useless though. The container shattered as his words brushed by your ears. Faded and fuzzy, the world drifted away. You were pulled back into the world by a brunette. His slender hands shaking your shoulders. You shoved him away glaring.

“Woah, she’s pissed,” Atsushi whispered before you shook your head looking at the ceiling, you smiled.

“No Atsushi, I'm sad, for lack of a better word. I want to walk up the stairs of a very tall building and dive into nothingness. I want to lay down with a bottle of whiskey and drink myself into sweet relief. I want to look in the mirror and like the way I look. I want to walk to my parents with the courage to tell them I'm perfect no matter what I look like. I want to tell them that what I do for a living makes me strong. I want to have the strength to shout and tell them I don't need a man to dictate my life. I want to scream at them that the only man I want is a man who isn’t afraid of a fierce, strong, and independent woman.” the words fell from your lips as your tears fell. They fell through your smile. The happy look stuck to your face.

“(y/n)...” Kunikida started before you chuckled, closing his sentence off.

“Aren't I just perfect? I hate my body, I hate my personality. I hate everything about myself. I hate my gift, nobody would like the real me. Nobody knows the real me. Hell, I don't even know the real me. I am nothing without my smile. But… it's okay as long as I can keep smiling! I can just fake it until it's real. I fooled all of you, didn’t I? I really seemed happy! Even I was starting to think I was! But then, I get home, look in the mirror, and all I can see is a useless shell.” your voice stopped before you were wrapped in bandaged arms. Those arms ran over your back to pull at your arms. Concerned hazel brushing skilled tender fingers under the cloth of your sleeves. Those fingers dancing over the white cloth. His hair falling over his now darkened eyes.

“You too…” he whispered just as you yanked away your arms and held them, still keeping a smile.

Of course, he had to lift your spirits just a bit. So, as you looked away unable to meet his gaze, he got to one knee and pulled your hand to him with a smirk. Kunikida facepalmed realizing the words the brunette would spout next. “Dazai, this was a crime scene. Are you seriously going to… I'm going to kill you!” he shouted stomping over to you two.

Dazai’s eyes met yours as he put his playful smile on. “Would you commit a double suicide with me~?” he hummed before being shoved into a wall. “Kunikidaaaaa! Why would you do something so cruel?!” he dramatically put a hand over his chest and his other hand on his forehead. Kunikida clicked his tongue, turning to you. His eyes reflected only guilt, as if your outburst had been all his fault. Even if you had been dying to talk to somebody about the crumbling emotions for months.

“I’ll think about it, Dazai-san!” you playfully responded to his request. For a moment you truly did feel a flutter of joy.

“I swear if you start doing his habits, I will add to your paperwork!” the worst kind of threat. A threat that made both you and Dazai cringe but chuckle.

“We should get going.” you hummed looking up to the ceiling again. “We do have a family to comfort.” Everybody fell serious and nodded.

[cocobutnochanel]

The Kims | 18+

Genre: smut, angst, romance, au, drama

Main Characters: Kim Minseok, Kim Junmyeon, Kim Jongdae x Reader (oc: female)

Warnings: swearing, sex scenes, slavery(not literally iguess), mentions of death, mentions of abuse, abandonment

Summary: When you thought life wasn't a fairytale and you were no Cinderella, truth slaps you in the face when you become an orphan overnight and your step-family sells you off to the richest family in town.

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

Part 1

(Part 2, Part 3)

‘Live, baby. Live your life to the fullest.’

You can still hear your eomma's last words to you before she passed away. It kept replaying in your head ever since she was announced dead.

She was the only family member left. You were an only child whose father was also dead. Life may have not been in your favor exactly but you came from a rich family. At least, that made up for it.

You feel hot tears run down your face when you see your mother's face inside a coffin. Sadness, anger and longing wash over you. You knew your mother's health was getting bad but you weren't expecting her to leave you just like that.

"Y/N! Get your stuff sorted!" You hear your stepbrother, Oh Sehun, scream from the second floor of your house. You were suspicious as to why he was in your room and touching your things but you shrugged it off. Your stepfather would kill you if you said something bad about his sons.

You ignored the the strangeness of the situation and immediately climbed upstairs. "Coming!" You called, wiping your tears away. You hear Chanyeol, your other stepbrother, chuckle at the sight of you crying. You just sigh and make your way to Sehun who wouldn't stop shouting your name now.

You knew it was strange that he was in your room but what surprised you was him stuffing your things inside a suitcase.

"Oppa! What are you doing?" You exclaimed, running to your room that became a mess after what he did. Your hands were trembling as your eyes scanned your things that were half-ruined now because of your stepbrother. You quickly get on your knees to see your belongings now scattered on the floor.

You look up to him, looking for some sort of explanation but his eyes were dead and he refused to say anything. God, this frustrated you so much. 

You feel another presence in the room so you whip your head around and see Chanyeol leaning on the doorframe. "Appa's getting rid of you finally." His icy deep voice was enough to scare you, the idea of moving out made you want to faint.

You tried to control your breathing as you see Chanyeol smiling at your state. "Please don't." You begged shamelessly and that earned another chuckle from Chanyeol. You bit your lip so hard, you tasted blood in your mouth.

Moving out? Getting rid? The hot tears you wiped off your face earlier came back in a split second. The Ohs weren't exactly nice to you but they were all you had after your mother passed away. No relatives, no family friends, no anything. This house was the only roof you could go under. Fuck, the world outside was meaner than the Ohs could ever be. It terrified you beyond belief.

"I'm sorry." An emotionless apology from Sehun didn't make it any better. You spent almost eight years with them ever since your eomma married your stepfather when you were barely eleven. "Appa was struggling with the funds when your mom was sick. He had no choice but to borrow money and now, he couldn't return it. The only way to pay it was to send you there." Your eyes widen at his reason. It was absolute bullshit.

"B-But my trust fund! It could pay the debt, right? Shouldn’t we call the family lawyer first?" You try to find another reason to stay but Chanyeol cut your thoughts off with his voice. "Pack it up, Cinderella, you don't have all day." With that, he walked out of the room. 

With slumped shoulders, you fall to the floor. You were defeated in all aspects. You lost your mother and now, you had to lose your home and only family too.

"I don't understand it at all. I had a trust fund. That would be enough to pay off eomma's hospital bills." You whispered as your heart ached. You tried to look at Sehun again but his eyes were emotionless. You knew he was the kinder brother to you despite being whiney but what you couldn't believe was him lying to you right now. Your trust fund was more than enough. Also, your mother’s company wasn’t going bankrupt for your family to reach this measure.

"You really need to pack up, Y/N. Appa would be fuming if he went home and you're still here.." Sehun said, pushing your suitcase nearer to you. It might hurt that these people you consider family are sending you to some stranger they borrowed money from but Sehun made a point. "You know it'd be bad to anger Appa." He retaliated.

That woke you up. Your stepfather may have not laid a finger on you before but he spat so many hurtful words. He had the shortest temper and you weren't sure that he wouldn't hurt you physically now that your mother was dead. 

With his anger management issues and hugeass body, he could kill you with his bare hands. That urged you to stand and start stuffing your suitcase with as much clothes as you could.

Your tears eventually dried and Sehun left your room. Your knees and hands were trembling like they were earlier but that didn't stop you from packing your things. The imagery of your angry stepfather's huge figure made you go on. It was fear that made you want to live even if your whole life was as trashy as it was already. After all, this was all your mother wanted before she died. For you to live.

After putting all the stuff you needed inside your bags, you quickly scurry off to the entrance of your house. You had no idea where you would be going but staying in this house also meant you'd die. You had to try your chances that the people your stepfather is indebted to is somehow less cruel and would not kill me. Wherever it was, you tried to assure yourself it'd be better than staying here.

"Hey, Cindy! A carriage is waiting outside for you." You hated the new nickname Chanyeol gave you but you knew you'd never see him again in your life. You guessed. These people would never let you go without paying the debt and you know your stepfather would never do that. That thought dismissed all the anger in your head for him.

You drag your luggage outside and see a black car. This must be the carriage Chanyeol was referring to. It looked very expensive and it was also heavily tinted. Whoever your stepfather was indebted to, they were filthy rich.

You hesitated as it approached you. Was this right? Your mother's dead body was lying in your living room right now. You should be weeping instead of running away. You haven't even had the chance to grieve yet here you are, being kicked out of the house you grew up in. The house you made memories with. The only home that you ever knew.

The hesitations quickly evaporated as you heard your stepfather's Range Rover approaching. You knew that engine sound all too well. You have hurried off to your room a lot when you were younger whenever you got in trouble with your stepdad. So instinctively, you ran to the black car's door, never looking back at the home you once had.

Your hands stopped shaking and you finally started to breathe properly as the black car pulled out of your home's driveway. Your stepfather’s Range Rover was already out of earshot and you knew you were safe. For now.

Doubts and overthinking clouded your mind. You wanted to be afraid and scared at what might await me. But also, you couldn’t go back home. Your head hurt after so much thinking, you dozed off inside the car as the worries now left your troubled mind.

You felt a nudge on your shoulder, pulling you to consciousness. Your eyes slowly flutter open as you try to sit up properly. "We're here.." You heard the driver say. He was a white-haired guy my age. He also gave me a smile and tried to help me up.

"Where are we, sir?" Your voice was hoarse and the car door flew open beside you. It revealed a grand mansion in front of you and it earned a gasp from you.

You see a man walking by the entrance of the huge manor. His tall stature demanded attention and you automatically assumed he was the owner. With that classy tuxedo and refined posture, you knew nothing about him was cheap.

He suddenly turned around and your eyes widened at that. As if his money wasn't enough to make him intimidating, he had a perfect face. It may have a permanent scowl but you couldn't deny his face was truly perfect. Tanned complexion, defined jaw, plump lips and thick eyebrows. He was definitely handsome.

"Who are you to look at me straight in the eye?" His voice was deep and authoritative and loud enough to snap you out of your thoughts, it surprised you. His scowl even grew which made you bow your head and quickly apologize. "I'm sorry." You mumbled, the fear of death immediately taking over your senses. 

"Be nicer." Another voice interrupted that made you look up. A man with a child on his arm went out of the house, standing by the door. He wore a similar suit to the man who was scowling. Another handsome man, you thought. He looked older but no less handsome. He also looked friendlier as a little girl bounced in his arms.

This man was definitely kinder, you could safely assume. His eyes were soft despite his features being sharp and his thin lips had a pressed smile.

The scowling man passed by him and went inside the huge house. You could only look at his leaving back, hoping you didn't piss him enough to get yourself killed. You couldn't possibly die the first day you're here.

"Hey, get inside. I'm sorry for that. My brother's just wired that way." He offered a smile as the little girl in his arms looked at him adoringly. You nodded at what he said, trying to take in the information. His kind smile was nothing compared to the previous man’s scowl. Their air was too different. "Let her inside, Baek. We’ll be at the study." He nodded at the driver before going back inside his room.

The driver who was named Baek started carrying my bags. "No, it's okay." You try to take it away from him but he insists. He carried your luggage inside the house to the large living room. 

The house was so large, it was nothing compared to your home before. Marble walls made everything stand out in elegance as the paintings that graced it made it warmer to the eyes. The furniture was obviously expensive despite its basic structures. The grand staircase that led to another floor also made it seem like it’s a palace.

Baek snapped you out of your awe by entering with your bags. He set it down by a sofa. "I'm Baekhyun and I'm the errand boy here." He gave you a toothy grin which made you smile back at him. "It's hard to find a friend here but I assure you, I can be your friend." You nodded like a seal at what he said. You knew you needed help and an offer like this isn't something you can pass up.

"I'll find time to talk to you and all but the bosses need you at the study right now. They'll decide whether what to use you for." You look at him in confusion. He immediately gets the message and tries to clear up the confusion. "Your family is in a debt and now, this family owns you. The Kims. You have to be of use to them. We’re considered as slaves here but it doesn’t really sound that bad. It’s just working without pay but with absolute loyalty." You were surprised at what he said. How could he know? You didn't tell him anything. Also, the fact that you were called slaves sounded wrong to you. It seemed inhumane despite what Baek tried to explain.

He looked at me as if he was sorry. “It’s okay. I know cause it happened to me and all the others too. I will explain soon since I’m always the one hanging around here but right now, you have to go to the study. They will decide how to use you before they let you settle in. Now, go, okay? You don’t want to anger the youngest Kim.” He was talking while he dragged you at the end of the first floor’s hall. The information was too much to take in and before you knew it, you had to face your new bosses now. Or owners. You have no idea how to refer to them.

Baek turns the doorknob swiftly as he stands straighter than he did when you two were alone. He looks back at you once last time and assures you with a look as he entered the quiet room. "Young masters, the new girl is about to get in." You hear someone say to bring you in and Baek immediately ushers you inside.

The room they called study was large and carpeted. It was filled with books and tables. The air inside was also warmer than it was in the hallways. 

Baekhyun pointed to the center and I immediately got the signal. Baek left as you finally got to where he wanted you to stand. You stood there, in front of four men in suits. Their eyes were examining every inch of you and it made your skin crawl. The black dress you were still wearing for your mother's funeral wasn't exactly pretty. The thought of showing your makeup-less and swollen face to four dashing men who were supposed to be your new bosses didn't make it any better.

"Jun-hyung, what do you think?" The guy with a baby girl earlier spoke up first and asked a man in an all-black suit. You wanted to keep your eyes on the floor but they were too handsome to peel your sight off them.

This man called Jun looked angelic yet his face was stoic. He had a gentle aura but something about him warned your gut that you should be extra careful around this man. Nonetheless, it amazed you how four extremely good-looking men could be in one room. You suddenly recall Baekhyun’s words and they were the Kims. Must be a family. Amazing genes, you couldn’t help but think

"She has no special talents mentioned in her file." You wince at that Jun guy's comment, quickly waking you up from the daydream you just had about these gorgous men. You realize you were just an average human which is basically why your stepfamily didn't want to keep you. You weren't talented, intelligent or creative. 

You were also surprised that you had a file already with them. But then, it was your stepfather we were talking about. He would go to hell and back just to get rid of you

"She's pretty. I want her. Can I keep her, Jun?" You looked up at the person who spoke. It was a man who gave a different vibe. He looked very playful with his exotic face features but something told you he was just as dangerous as the other two. The man with a baby in his arms didn’t really scare you as much as the scowling man did. The other similarity he had with the rest was the expensive suit he was wearing.

He takes a good look at you before speaking. "Jun, I want her. You know we need a new plaything." He spoke with finality, smiling at you. You didn't know what he meant and your puzzled face gave off what you were thinking. "He wants to fuck you, dummy." The scowling man glared at you with so much intensity as he solved the confusion in your head.

Fuck me? Plaything? These words resonated in your head. You didn't know how to react. How was somebody supposed to react to someone wanting to fuck them?

"We don't do that anymore, Minseok-hyung." The Jun guy sighed, his eyes filled with pity as he stared at you. He really does look angelic, you thought. You snapped out of it again and bit your lip as you put your head down, not knowing what to say.

"We can if we get her consent." The guy with exotic features who seems to be named Minseok shrugged. He looks at you with so much determination once again. "Hey, what's your name, again?" He speaks again and you widen your eyes at his question.

"U-Um.. Y/N." You stuttered with so much fear. You really didn't want to die at all. You know you had to do whatever they wanted just to stay alive. Living was so meaningless like this but you didn't want your mother to be disappointed in you for just giving up. If these men returned you home, your stepfather would kill you. 

"So, Y/N, is it okay if we have sex with you from time to time? We really need the stress reliever." This Minseok guy smirked again. His directness shocked you to the core. You had to say yes, right? If you didn't, they'd kill you? Or torture you? Or return you home? None sounds appealing to you.

You really have no choice...

"I-I'd like t-to be of help to you with a-anything." You fiddled with your fingers as you said this. You were nervous as hell and hearing the scowling man's chuckle made it worse. 

"See, she's okay with this, Jun!" Minseok exclaimed with a huge grin on his face, eyeing you up and down. He patted Jun’s back and smirked at the scowling man. You weren't really opposed to what they wanted. They were handsome and you wanted to be alive, nothing more or less. You weren’t usually this shallow and easy but your eomma’s words keep ringing in your ears. You had to be alive.

"I guess it's settled then." The man with a baby girl earlier gave you an apologetic smile and stood up. You were about to walk out but the Jun guy spoke once again. "Tell Baekhyun to show you the available room on the fifth floor." He nodded at you. You were about to walk again but then something interrupted.

You heard the scowling man beside him laugh, stopping your tracks again. "Jun, you're really treating your whores right." He smirked and looked at you as if he was belittling you. You shuddered under his sight. He was truly intimidating, he had a different air to the other men. He was blunt and he never hesitated.

"You should leave now. Never mind his foul mouth." The guy with a baby waved off to you. Once again, this man has made your arrival here warmer. You nodded at them with finality and got out of the room as you heard Jun scold the other guys. “Jongdae, thank you for being nice today but treat slaves as they should be treated. Jongin, stop being mean. You’re being irrational.” He authoritatively announced to the two boys, making you assume he was the leader or something.

You close the door behind you with a final thud. You see Baekhyun leaning at the wall beside the study. He immediately went up to you.

"So, how did it go?" You didn't really know how to answer this question. How would you explain to someone that you agreed to fucking people? 

"U-Uh.. That guy named Jun told me to tell you to show me the room on the fifth floor?" You said with so much uncertainty, chewing on your bottom lip. His eyes were as large as saucers and his jaw dropped the moment you say this aloud. He couldn’t believe himself either.

Baekhyun shook his head in disbelief and tried to be as calm as he could. "What the hell did you agree to?! They never let slaves like us in the fifth floor! What more live there?" He asked in a hushed yet raised tone. He briskly dragged me to an elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

"Well, the Minseok guy asked me if I could help them sexually? I guess?" What you just said earned a loud gasp from Baekhyun. Your cheeks heated at the mention of this. "Holy shit..." You heard him mutter a curse and honestly, you couldn't help but agree. Non-survival you would never agree to anything like this but this is the new you. You had to survive. For your mother’s wishes and for your own good too. This time, Baekhyun looks at you with so much amusement.

"You're in for a fucking ride."

[alvhiedeir]

Raging Storms

Poseidon X Reader.

Angst I guess. Trying to write angst it hard.

1322 words

Sorry for any errors in advance✌️

The sound of the crashing waves used to comfort you but now, standing infront of the very being, the god that controls it, it only serves as a painful remainder that they may be beautiful but once you dive in they will reveal their claws and drag you into the abyss.

Just as you did.

You fell, you fell in too deep and couldn't come up for air. Couldn't or wouldn't? Your brain chastised you. If you could you would have laughed at how stupidly naive you were. So damn optimistic and hopeful that you could change him, that he loved you as much as you loved him. That that love will be enough to get you through. A ever so brave sailor battling the monstrous waves, trying to find the paradise that was promise to be ahead.

Only to find that there was nothing.

Nothing but the cold and dark neverending sea.

One could only take so much.

"I- I can't do this anymore," you couldn't even recognized your own voice. The proud voice of a goddess that can hold her own against an army now rendered to a meek whisper. Your eyes were glassy as the tears you dared not to drop pools. You want to appear strong, to show that you are not backing down, not this time. Not anymore.

But the unmistakable tremor in your voice and the shaking of your hands easily gave you away.

"I can't do this anymore," you said firmer this time. You almost pat yourself in the back for not stuttering. You took a deep breath, and with a small pause you finally uttered the words you've been wanting say for so long.

"I want to end this, Poseidon."

The said god did not say anything. His eyes not even meaning your's, staring by the side. He remained silent, as he have from the beginning. Despite sitting on his bed, his presence as enough to make you feel so small compared to him. But you let it not intimidate you.

Taking his silence as a chance to continue, you did.

"All this time, I just wanted you to treat me as your partner, as that's what I am."

Years of built up turmoil and anger and loathing came crashing to you faster than you can feel. Your palms were numb and sweating at the same time. The hammering in your chest likens to a beast howling.

"I thought that you loved me as you have told me all those years ago. I thought that the smile you gave me was enough to say that you hold affections for me. Fuck! I thought it was enough to save this marriage!"

You started to raise your voice, losing the composure you promised yourself to keep. You didn't even feel your tears started flowing, when they hit the gorgeous carpet the bedroom adored only did you notice.

You let a small laugh remembering how you picked the color of the carpet. A shade of blue that makes you feel as if you are looking at the clear waters of a majestic lake. Something to remained you of the man you married even when he is not there.

How ironic that is.

"Why?"

The sudden voice startled you, and you raised your head to see that he was directly looking at you, looking at your eyes. The first word he muttered all throughout this whole thing made your skin crawl. No longer with fear or anxiety. No.

You were furious.

"Why? Why?! You ask why?!" Your voice rivaled the thunder outside as you let your anger known.

"Why you asked?! Poseidon, when was the last time you held me in your arms? The last time you shared a laugh with me? When was the last time we had fun together? Was there a time that you actually thought of me as you wife and not just an obligation you had to do?!"

Your throat feels tight and rough. Eyes blurred with the tears that didn't stop. But still you yelled. You yelled every pain, frustration and fear you had.

"And by heavens, you scare me! You kill anyone who you deemed a bother to me and always telling me you know what's best for us, but for fucksakes! Can't you even listens to me!"

"I loved you! Damn everything I loved you! And I still do! But loving someone shouldn't be this painful! It shouldn't hurt this much! I already lost because I loved you more than you could ever love me!"

It was silence after that. With your head low, you cried. The deep breaths you took and the mundane sound of the ocean below feeling the eerie silence. As your sobs died down, you gained enough courage to raise your head and meet his gaze once again.

His eyes were still the same, steady and emotionless compared to your red and puffy ones.

"But you know what, I now better now. I finally accepted that. I'm no longer going to beg for your attention anymore. I know I deserve more than this. So good bye, Poseidon. I hope you're happy now."

You turned to your heel, keeping your head high. To the very least, just this moment, you want to look strong infront of him. Your heels clicks as you approach the door. The moment your hand touched the doorknob, you heard it. Something you have yearning for for so long.

"I love you," it was spoken so quietly and calm just as he is. But the sincerity in it made you question if it was the same person. You hold on the doorknob tighter.

"I'm sorry." You bit your lip, trying not to turn around.

"Please, don't leave me." Your heart broke hearing his voice. It sounded so broken. So small and scared unlike the mighty god you knew.

You took a deep breath and said, with the steadiest voice you could.

"It's too late for that now."

And with that, you slammed the door shut and walked far from the place you used to call home.

You didn't know how long you have been walking under the storm but by the time you reached their door, you were drenched and cold. You a shaking hand you pressed the doorbell and not a minute later, a woman with blonde hair and innocent smile greeted you. Though the moment she took in you appearance her smile turned into a worried frown.

"Hey Persephone," you greeted quietly as you wave you ice cold hands at you.

"Oh my! What happened to you?! Come, come you are freezing darling!" She ushers you insides and quickly findings towel to at least dry yourself. You greatfully took it and wrapped it around yourself. She sat beside you after brewing a tea offering it to you. You smile at her in gratitude and took a sip from the warm drink.

"Are you okay?" You bit your lip at her question. You slowly put the cup down the table and shook your head. You let out a sob. And then another. Within second you were crying once again, fat tears sliding down your cheeks as everything sinks in.

She wrapped her arms tightly around your fragile frame and comforted you. Her eyes held sadness, pity and anger in them as she listen to your cries. She can't help but feel useless as she squeezed you tighter, not knowing what else to do.

"Don't worry darling, it will be ok." She whispered into your hair.

You laughed drily at her words.

"It isn't. And it wouldn't for a long time."

But despite that thought you can't help but feel relieved. It may hurt for now, or for a long time. But someday, it'll be better. And it's worth holding on to.

And as you cried, the heavens cried alongside you. The mourning skies masking the anguish of the god you just left.

[pedropascalssimp]

Heyyy, can I request a really angsty Anakin X Female reader with the angst prompts 19 and 20?? Can it be just before Anakin turns so the reader is ruined when he turns but he still cares for her. Thank you 🥰

Yesh you can! Oi this is my first time writing for Anakin Hehehe. Here it is! I hope you like it!

Prompt 19: “I'm leaving” “of course you are, that's all you know to do”

Prompt 20: “did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?”

Warnings: Angst! Sadness! Anakin turning to the dark side. It's short! Possibly horribly written. (I was trying to hurry and get it done and it was spewed out of my mind at 2am so, sorry🙏🥺💕)

Anakin Skywalker x fem reader

whatever Obi-Wan was saying fell to deaf ears, words flying over your head as you simply play with the metal band wrapped around your finger.

You felt the distance between you and your husband, you saw him less and less each pacing day, something you thought was because of the war. You knew he had duties to attend to, he was a general so you knew he was a busy man. But after spending many nights alone in your little apartment, not hearing from him like he had promised you would, you knew it was more than the war keeping him from you. It hurt knowing that somewhere along the way, spending so many days on end away from you, that Anakin had let you go. He hadn't even talked to you in so long, hadn't even let you know if he was alright after returning to your shared home Coruscant after a long period of time. The only thing letting you know he was still alive at all was Obi-Wan.

“Are you alright Y/N?” Obi-Wan spoke more firmly as to grasp your attention. Finally snap out of your sorrowful thoughts and meet the concerned gaze of your friend.

“I'm fine…just, a little stressed is all” you shrug his question off. You weren't fine, you were dying on the inside. Heart slowly being torn apart by the absence of your husband.

The doors to your small apartment slide open, making you and Obi-Wan turn around only to see your husband standing by the now closed door. His blue eyes holding a look you couldn't quite place as they fell on you for the first time in what felt like years. The once loving lively glint in them was replaced with a dark, almost raging look. As if the mere sight of you made his blood boil.

“Anakin, thank the stars you've arrived. I was just telling Y/N here about the —

“Obi-Wan may me and Y/N speak alone?” Anakin never once tore his gaze from you, face displaying no emotion. Lips in a straight line as his usual coy smirk was gone. It concerns you to no end, heart pounding in fear for what's to come.

Nodding ever so politely, Obi-wan bids you goodnight and spares Anakin a small smile on his way out. The doors sliding shut behind the man as you are left alone in the room with Anakin. You stood in the spot you've been standing in since Obi-Wan had come by to discuss something you've already forgotten about, frozen in your place as you suddenly felt like a stranger in his eyes. Anakin slowly walks toward you, hands by his side as his cloak hides them. He only stops when he's directly in front of you, eyes glued to yours.

“It's been a while since we've talked…” Anakin breaks the unbearable silence, voice as soft as you remembered.

You offer him a small smile, the same innocence showing in it that he found entrancing. One of many things he ever loved about you. “It's been forever since I've even seen you” you whisper as tears fill your eyes, a mix of happiness and fear swimming in your eyes.

“I know, it's been hard for me…” he trailed off as a look of conflict shows in the blue eyes you adore. Tongue darting out to wet his lips as he looks to the wall in thought.

“Hard for you!? Ani I've been trying to send you transmissions! Every time I catch a glimpse of you it's as if you run from me. It's been hard on me!” you exclaim as you blink the tears away, voice cracking as you swallow the lump in your throat. You knew that his position in this war left him rather stressed, but that was no excuse for him being so neglectful towards you, his wife.

“Well I'd like to see you contribute to this war! All you do is sit here all day long! While I'm out there trying to at least make progress in this mess!” he raised his voice as anger rolled off of him, something Anakin has never directed towards you before.

His words hurt you, but that doesn't stop you from walking closer to him, reaching a hand out to cup his cheek like you've yearned to do for so long, but he backs away with a clenched jaw. This breaks your heart into a million pieces, chest tight with pain. “Anakin…I didn't mean —

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, sighing with a shake of his head, frustrated with you obviously. “I'm leaving” he said while looking back into your eyes, the seriousness in them enough to shoot right through your heart. The meaning behind them far more than a "I'm leaving to cool off" kind of leaving, but rather him leaving you… forever possibly.

“Of course you are, that's all you know to do” you huff out as tears fall from your eyes now, he always turns his back on you whenever something like this happens. Leaving you alone to drown in this sorrow, the pain of this failing marriage. You honestly saw a future with him, children… Anakin painted a picture in your head that allowed you to think he would run away with you, give you a family as you grow old together on some backwater planet. Of course though, that was just a dream.

“At least I'm doing something” he growls out as he turns his back on you, going to walk out the door. But your small desperate voice stops him.

“did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?” you sounded broken, voice barely above a whisper as you cry freely. Not caring if your sobs are loud, not caring if someone hears them. But they send hurt spiraling straight into Anakin, breaking his heart. He would ask you to join him, walk by his side through it all. But he couldn't, he couldn't watch you succumb to the darkness as he had…. You were far too innocent and sweet to be brought down this path.

He looks over his shoulder at you, hair falling in front of the scar on his eye. “If I said yes, would you believe me?” he muttered, looking down at his feet. You managed to let a dry laugh slip past your lips, for you knew that nothing could stop him from leaving you now. You saw the way his blue eyes were tented with darkness, the look of a Sith overtaking.

Did you believe him? The part of you that has known him for years thought yes, but the pained, broken part of you thought that perhaps you never stood a chance with the Jedi before you. “I don't know what to believe in anymore Ani” you muttered while slowly sitting on the floor, watching him slip from your fingers like sand. “I love you” it slipped out in a cry, eyes closed as you finally broke down.

It tore his heart in pieces, making this hard for him. But his mind was already made, his path chosen as he would walk it alone. He didn't have the heart to say it back, he didn't want to give you hope that he could stay. So he left, leaving you alone for the last time.

It had broken him far worse than he let on, but when he heard your screams of agony, it only fueled his rage and made him storm away faster. Leaving behind his heart as he took yours with him.

[marjansmarwani]

heavy from the hurt inside my veins

3.8k || ao3

In the wake of the volcano, the 126 reels and tries to heal. Coda to 2x02.

Vignettes from each character in the aftermath of that episode. It’s sad, be warned. Beta’d by the wonderful @officereyes with some additional input by @firefighterstrand and @justaswampdemon

--------

Why not me?

It was the question he had asked himself for the first time on September 12th, 2001. It was the question he had asked himself as he went from house to house, informing family after family that someone they loved would never be coming home again. 

Even as he had entered his own home: tired, worn, and hurting in so many ways, he had been unable to stop the question from floating through his mind again even as his son latched onto his waist with tears in his eyes and his wife hovered at the edge of the room, eyes full of fear and grief. Even as he assured TK that he was okay, that everything would be fine, even as he put out his free arm for Gwyn, holding her tight when she stepped into his embrace, he couldn’t help but wonder: why did he deserve to live any more than anyone else?

Thousands of people had died that day. He hadn’t known most of them but the ones he did know has been his family. They had been his brothers and sisters, and they were good people. He was not better than them, so why was he still here?

As time passed he asked himself the question over and over again. He asked it as he watched his marriage fall apart, he asked it as his son grew older and became better and better at hiding his disappointment when Owen wasn’t there. He asked it as he watched his family crumble because of him. It would have been kinder, he thought, if it had been him. For his family to not have to watch him fall apart, for him to not have to feel all of this. 

But it hadn’t been him, and it never was. 

The ash fell in slow spirals around him, drifting down into his backyard like snow. He watched it absentmindedly, one hand clutching his glass of tequila while the other stroked Buttercup. It was beautiful in a way the ash that had followed the collapse of the towers had never been. And just like then, he was sitting and watching with the same question. It had been a matter of feet rather than minutes this time. But just like last time, he had survived and someone else did not and he still didn’t know why. 

It had been so long, but the guilt felt familiar. He supposed that might be because it never truly left. 

He wasn’t better than Tim. If anything, the opposite was true. Tim had lived to help people, he had never hurt anyone. He was kind and sincere and completely dedicated to the work he did. He had helped save his son’s life, and Owen had never forgotten that. He was caring and funny and a good person. He had done nothing in his life to warrant being flattened by a flying, flaming, hunk of volcanic rock. If it had been something to do with fate or karma, Owen didn’t see it.

The only thing he is sure of is that he doesn’t deserve to be the one who always walks away.  

---------

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep”

It’s been hours now, and her words have haunted her ever since. Even as she had rushed over, even as she knew in her heart that they couldn’t save him; that there was no saving him, she thought those words. Now, in the quiet aftermath, they repeated in her head like an echo. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She had never promised Tim anything, explicitly, but there had been an implied promise as his captain: I am here for you, I will make sure you stay safe. 

And she hadn’t. She had failed in the most spectacular way possible. 

She knew, logically, that Judd was right. She knew that as hard as she tried, as much as she would have liked to, she did not have the power to stop an act of nature. She knew that there was no way this could have been changed, no way to avoid this. But that did change the facts: she had made a promise, and she had broken it. Just like she had scolded him for.  

Even now she felt like she was failing. She had lost a teammate, someone in her command. She had lost someone she was meant to look out for and here she was thinking of her own family and how this incident had reignited the fears she had had, reminded her of the reasons she hadn’t gone back in the first place. Even now she was letting him down, but she didn’t know how to stop. 

Picking up Buster and taking him in had been a peace offering. Perhaps it was small in the face of everything, but it was the only thing she could think to do. It was the only way she could think to help him now, like she should have before. So as she stroked the cat as he drank from the bowl, as she thought about her girls sleeping in the next room and of flaming rocks falling from the sky, she came to a conclusion that was small in the face of this all: her family now extended outside of the walls of her home and she would not let them down again. 

----------

When it came to loved ones, sometimes being able to read people so well was a double edged sword. Paul had always known when someone was lying, when they weren’t telling him the whole truth. He knew when they tried to hide things, and he knew right now that his team was hiding their collective hurt. 

Sure, they were grieving but he could tell that there was so much more to it than that. Each of them had a tension bubbling under the surface, something inside that was aching to burst out. He just hoped that they’d be able to survive the fallout. 

He wanted to help, but he didn’t know how. Vaguely he realized that he was being a hypocrite; looking to problem solve for others rather than confront his own. Maybe that was the case but he couldn’t bring himself to be too bothered. These people meant more to him than just about anyone in the world and if making sure they were okay was what he needed to focus on now he could live with that. Everything else could wait. 

So he accepted the coffee from Marjan, who needed to look after others in the face of upset; it had been the same when TK was shot. He watched her cross to TK and place a hand on his shoulder as he sat quietly, his face blank but his head a cloud of emotions. He watched as Judd clutched the pillow to his chest, tightening his grip around it as he fought to stay present, to not make the connections between what they had just lived through and what he almost hadn’t. He listened to Mateo admit to an insecurity, knocked off balance by the sudden and expected shift in the equilibrium of their already unmoored lives. He asked if the Captain was okay when he was clearly not. 

He watched, he listened, he analyzed because it’s what he did. 

In the end they all dispersed. The Captain home to his ex-wife, Judd to Grace, TK to Carlos. Mateo mentioned something about going for a run, and the remaining two paramedics disappeared to the ambulance bay. All that was left was Marjan, looking unsure now that everyone was gone, that there was no one else for her to focus on. 

Marjan was someone he understood maybe even better than the rest. His fellow Austin transplant, they had bonded over the shared surrealism of leaving behind everything and everyone you had ever known to start fresh. He had learned, over time, that they had much more in common than simply being new to town. He had learned that they both looked to cope in similar ways, that they enjoyed using physical activity to quiet their minds, to work out whatever was frustrating them. 

So tonight when he gathered his things to go home, he grabbed his gym bag. He found Marjan in the kitchen, absentmindedly washing the dishes with a distant look in her eyes and once he had her attention, held up his boxing gloves in question. As they sparred in silence he allowed all his frustration to come out. As he held the bag for her to punch, he watched her do the same. And when she finally crumbled, hitting the point in which tears were the only outlet left, he held her, and shed a few of his own. 

-----------

The universe was determined to tear her family apart, and there is nothing she can do to stop it. At least, that’s what it’s starting to feel like. 

They had been lucky before. They had almost lost TK, they could have lost the Captain to cancer, but they hadn’t. They had been okay; her little family here in Austin had remained whole. And now they weren’t, and she didn’t know if they would ever be again. 

She didn’t want to dwell on the questions. She didn’t want to think about all the ways the universe had let them down, she didn’t want to ponder questions of faith. So instead she focused on her team - or, what remained of it. She checked in on them all, brought coffee to Paul, offered silent support to TK, leant her closeness to Judd. Tim may not have been as close to her as these people, but he was still a part of this station and therefore still a part of her family. He was still someone she saw almost everyday, someone she relied on. To have him so suddenly gone, to have his life ended so suddenly and violently had shaken her to her core. 

She showered and changed after they were dismissed and headed to the kitchen, watching as they other dispersed with plans or destinations in mind. She had none. She didn’t know where to go and she didn’t know what to do. She knew the others were coping, falling back on their support systems outside the firehouse. She didn’t have one of those. The firehouse was her family, they were her support system. So instead of facing the question, she busied herself instead. She washed dishes that strictly speaking may have been clean while she tried to figure out the next step. When Paul appeared with boxing gloves in hand, she could have kissed him. 

Now as they sparred and she put all her anger and fear and frustration into each punch, she felt the dam break. When the tears came, she wasn’t surprised. When Paul pulled her into his arms and let her cry into his shoulder she felt a little better. Not for the crying, but for the proof: their family was still here. Maybe they could still be okay after all. 

-----------

He had been quiet, since it happened. 

Marjan had commented on it, Paul had asked if he was okay. He had nodded, but he hadn’t said a word. He was too ashamed to admit what his first thought had been, what feeling had rushed through him when he had realized who was under that flaming rock. 

He didn’t want to admit that he had been relieved to see Tim’s prone form smouldering under the volcanic rock, because it meant it wasn’t his dad. 

Everything had happened so fast; there had been fire and flying debris everywhere. He had ducked with Marjan, turning away from the scene only to hear shouts and the sound of someone calling for his dad. His heart had jumped into his throat and in the first few split seconds that he had turned all he had seen was a turnout coat peeking out under a large chunk of volcanic debris, and he had feared the worst. 

He had spent most of the past year terrified he would lose his dad to cancer. They had had the good news about that for just days now, and the idea of losing him in a volcano after all of that was too much and far too soon. So when the figure next to the rock had picked themselves up and TK had seen the red captain’s emblem on the helmet, the relief that had washed over him was all consuming. When he heard Nancy’s scream, the guilt had followed instantly. 

He knew if he explained it he would be forgiven, but he didn’t want their absolution. Tim had been his friend, his teammate. Tim hadn’t deserved to die, and he certainly hadn’t deserved that reaction. He was mourning Tim’s loss, he knew that things at the station would never be quite the same ever again. But in the moment that he had felt a sense of absolute relief and even thankfulness and now, in the moments and hours following, he couldn’t shake the guilt. 

It followed him as he left the station, still clinging to him even after a shower and a change of clothes. It lingered even now, after he had checked in with his dad and started the trek to the one place he truly wanted to be right now. It followed him as he went, opting to walk the mile rather than inflict his presence on any unsuspecting uber driver. It was weighing on him by the time he unlocked the door and stepped inside. He sighed as he turned, planning on quietly sneaking up the stairs, on sliding into bed besides his boyfriend to savor his calming presence.

But he turned and found that wouldn’t be necessary. Carlos was waiting on the stairs, a sympathetic look on his face. For an instant, TK was surprised, but it didn’t last. Of course Carlos knew, or course he had known TK would come here. TK knew he was anything but a mystery to Carlos Reyes. 

Carlos held out a hand and TK headed towards it gratefully. But the guilt weighed on him more and more with each step and by the time he reached Carlos he was falling, sinking to the ground and into his embrace. The guilt and shame were pressing on him as if he was suddenly at the bottom of the ocean and now that he was somewhere safe, somewhere he could fall and not be lost, it overtook him. 

He curled into Carlos’s chest, wrapping a hand around his arm even as he felt his boyfriend press a light kiss to the top of his head, his strong and safe arms tightening around him. Soon he would have to explain; soon he would have to tell Carlos why he didn’t have the strength to move another step, why they were here on the stairs instead of up in his bed. But for the moment he was content to sit here, safe and secure in the security of Carlos’s home and his arms as finally, he let the grief and the shame out.  

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

When he left the station Paul had asked where he was going. He had told him for a run, because he didn’t have another answer. All he knew is that he didn’t want to stay here. The station felt like a grave and he wanted to get as far away from it as possible. Going home wasn’t an option: how did you explain to your roommates who had never faced anything more stressful than a low grade that you had lost someone today? That you had lost someone that felt just as much like family to you as your own family? 

He briefly considered going to his parents, seeking the comfort of his childhood home. But he nixed that idea as well; he didn’t want them to worry. His mother worried about him and his job enough as it was. He didn’t need to add the visualization of a teammate dying within feet of where he had been standing to her nightmares. 

In the end, he ran. 

He set off with no particular destination in mind, simply letting his feet carry him through the city. He jogged straight through the sunrise, and when he finally stopped in the dim morning’s light and saw his destination, he shouldn’t have been surprised. 

As he took in the steeple of the church above him, he felt a little bit more at peace. He couldn’t go home, but he could still get a piece of it. Growing up the church had practically been a second home, afterall. He stepped into the church quietly and settled into a pew in the back. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t make a move to offer a prayer or seek out someone to talk to. He was content to sit in the quiet comfort, absorbing the calm familiarity after a day that had changed so much more after a year full of it.

And in the quiet familiar calm, he let himself rest and reflect. 

-----------

The flames had been too similar. 

That was the only thought he had as he sat on the back of the couch, watching the others distantly, worrying the pillow in his arms. 

The flames had been high and bright and loud, just like that day. 

If he closed his eyes long enough, he could go back there. He had been doing better but it was still there and today had brought it closer to the surface.  So he focused on his team instead, on the people before him, on the family he was determined to protect. 

He hadn’t, tonight; but he would be damned if he didn’t succeed with everyone he had left. 

That was his role, after all. Judd the big brother; Judd the protector. Grace had once told him he was like a shield: determined to put himself between those he loved and harm, no matter the cost. He had joked a few dings in his armor would make him look more rugged, but she hadn’t laughed. “Remember that those people you are so determined to protect need you in one piece too,” she had told him softly, successfully ending any debate on the topic. There was no arguing with her, not on this. 

Even so, he would be damned if he let a single one of them fall on his watch. 

He took them all in, their various expressions of shock and grief. He answered their questions, offered reassurances and the hard truths: nothing anyone could have done could have prevented this, and there was nothing anyone could have done to save him. That was his job, after all. As the rest of them dispersed he sought out Tommy, he talked her off the ledge. He needed her to know that she was good at what she did, and that this didn’t change that. Nothing could ever change that. 

Eventually they all parted ways and he headed home. Stepped into the silent house, dropping his bag and shedding his jacket before heading to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to take in the sight of Grace peacefully sleeping. 

He entered the room quietly, not wanting to wake her. He craved her comfort but she deserved to sleep, so he would settle for her presence right now. He slid into their bed and placed a gentle hand on Grace’s hip, needing the contact, needing the comfort. There was no one left to focus on now and without the distraction of others to distract him, the fear and anguish - both fresh and familiar - came back to the surface. She reached around without a word, pulling his hand into her own and wrapping their joined hands around her body. In the darkness, out of others to worry about, the tears finally started to come. 

Judd Ryder was a shield. He needed to be strong, to be the barricade that protected those he loved from all the bad in the world. It was all he had ever wanted to do. But he didn’t know how much more of this he could take. 

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

Nancy didn’t want to go home. 

Home was filled with too many memories, home was filled with silence and solitude. Home was filled with reminders that she was alone now, that the only person who had always been there wasn’t here anymore. 

Home was just another reminder that her best friend, the one person she had always been able to count on, was gone and that he was never coming back. 

Paramedics were like firefighters in so many ways, but there was one way in which they had always differed: a firefighter always knew that running into a burning building carried a risk. They made their peace with that and carried that knowledge with them everyday. Paramedics were different. Paramedics worked outside the flaming structures, at the edge of the car accidents. Paramedics healed the people the firefighters rescued, they didn’t often do the rescuing. Sure there was risk just by being there, sure there was just as much risk as any other person faced on a day to day basis. Paramedics were not the ones to run into the heart of danger, they were the ones that patched up the people who came out. 

Nancy had been a paramedic for years, and she had worked with Tim the entire time. They had both lost people before - they had both lost their entire station, once upon a time. They had both stood at the edge of the destruction and watched as the people they spent everyday with were taken, and it had just been them, Michelle, and Judd left behind. Then the new crew had come in to replace the old one, Michelle had left, and life moved on but Tim had always been there. Nancy had never pictured a time when he would not be. 

In the aftermath she had sat at the edge of the group, a spectator to the close knit family of firefighters wondering how she was supposed to move on here without her other half. She liked the crew and felt welcomed by them, but it was so different being on her own. There was a gulf between them that she didn’t know how to bridge. 

Now she cleaned out his locker, packing up his personal effects to be shipped back to his family in Baltimore, feeling just a little bit more of her composure fall away with each item she placed in the box. Captain Strand had offered to have someone else do it, someone from a different shift with no tie to Tim, but it hadn’t felt right to her. He was her best friend and she owed him so much, this was the very least she could do. So she folded his clothes, took down his picture of Buster Keaton, and shared some of the burden with Captain Vega. Then the Captain left and she was alone again, sitting in the ambulance bay on her own. She didn’t want to go home. 

But she had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to so eventually, she packed up her bag, and went home.  

[pearl-blue-musings]

Grow as We Go: part 10

Part 10 schweee

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x fem!reader

I done goofed and forgot to put an indicator. When it switches to y/n talking to Shinsou it’s a few weeks later. Love hurts y’all and feelings take time to figure out!

Warnings: extra long written part sorry, blood mention, death mention

10.5 Masterlist

You threw your phone onto your couch and then flopped onto the couch in anger. You yelled into the cushions, blessed they can take your frustrations. Sure it’s been a couple of weeks, but isn’t this ridiculous? Well you were one to talk so you flipped yourself over and sighed deeply.

You knew you got yourself into this mess by not opening up to him from the beginning. But you were only trying to protect him, and look at how well that went. You didn’t want him to know about your family crisis because it wasn’t something that was supposed to be common knowledge. But then again he was your best friend... Still, he was still training and focusing on internships he didn’t have time to deal with your issues. 

You’re about to dive deeper into that well of unending sadness until your phone starts buzzing. It’s a call from Aizawa and you pick up immediately.

“Hello?”

“(Y/n), we’ve had a situation come up. I’ve already called Shinsou and one other. I’ll text you the coordinates but be ready for anything. You still haven’t forgotten your close combat skills right?”

You chuckle softy, “as if I could forget! You two practically killed me.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line.

“Right,” you huff, “not the time.”

“I’ll see you in 15.”

And he hangs up. Whatever the situation is, it must be serious if he’s not budging at all at your banter. That has to be what Shinsou was called over, you muse.

*********

Once you’re at the determined meet up spot, Aizawa and the police chief give you all the rundown. A ragtag team of villains have created a hostage situation in the hotel. A gala for the elites is being held there and it’s been ransacked. Some people have been hurt but none that require surgery or a hospital visit. 

“Which is where you come in. We need you to infiltrate to take care of the wounded and read back the situation to us. They’ve cut off all links of communication and the feed inside the building is on a loop. You’ll have this camera and microphone attached to you. Eraserhead and Mind Jack will be flanking you the whole time.”

“Why them? It could have been anyone,” you asked.

“Yes,” the chief continues, “but the criminals asked for you specifically and then mentioned the other two. Do you understand your role,” the chief turns to your cohorts, “you two as well?”

The two men nodded and you begin to prepare for infiltration. You’re in the middle of getting the camera and mic ready when you feel his presence behind you. 

“I’ve been through worse and you know it.” Once the camera is secured and hidden you turn around to see deep lavender eyes staring back at you.

“I wanted them to use me instead.”

Your eyes roll as you get ready to meet with these villains. “That’s not your call to make. I can handle myself.”

“Yeah I’m aware of that.”

You hadn’t missed the snark and hurt in his tone. “Shinsou we don’t have time for this.” You read over the files of who all is in there and what their quirks may be, lest things go south. “You made it perfectly clear to me you need space. At least honor that.”

With that, you head straight for the hotel, doing your best to not draw attention to Shinsou and Aizawa flanking overhead and enterting from up top; if the villains have a video feed. You walk into the grand lobby and are greeted by one of the crew. He looks you up and down and you do your best to keep a poker face and not snap at him. You do your best to avoid the comment about your body and skin and keep up appearances. With the camera and mic, you do your best to stay silent. Once you’re at the room, you swiftly knock him unconscious, the cue for your flankers to come down. 

“We’ll be right outside here. The minute we hear anything go awry or you’re not back in five minutes, we’re heading in.”

Aizawa’s firm and cold whisper fills the reverberant hallway as you nod. You don’t meet Shinsou’s gaze as you walk into the double doors. The hall where the gala is being held is gorgeous. You wish you could take it all in but once you see what’s around you, that becomes an afterthought. 

You see what appears to be a stage at the front of the hall, and members of the elite all huddled and scared. You make sure to turn your full body around so the police outside can get a better grasp on the situation.

“Ah, (Y/n)! It’s so nice to see you! Please, make yourself useful and help my man here. Poor bastard got stabbed with a shoe. Can you believe this people? The nerve.”

You flinch slightly at the use of your real name and not your working name. You ignore it and go up to the stage where there’s a man bleeding with a shoe stuck in his stomach and a woman, whom you now assume is either dead or close to it. She wasn’t killed by anything loud, so it had to have been a quirk related incident. 

You move down to the injured criminal. “I’m going to take out the shoe, it’ll hurt for a little bit okay?” You words soothe him over until you forcefully take out the shoe. The man cries and curses at the pain but then your quirk goes to work to heal him, repairing the damaged cells and skin as it goes back to being normal.

You hear claps above you as the, you think, pompous leader applauds your work. “Marvelous work! Just as I would expect from someone with a rare healing quirk such as yours.”

That sentence and his accent alone was enough to strike fear into your core. The way this man was acting was too over the top but now you know why.

“Long time no see, that’s the phrase yes?”

Your blood ran cold as his disguise was taken off and you were met with the face of Akira Fukawa, the man behind your attempted kidnapping and the bane of your family’s existence.

“Surprised to see me out of jail? It helps when you have yakuza ties.” You try to approach him in an attack but he read through your movements and only had to touch you once in order for his quirk to activate: time manipulation. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion for you while Akira appeared at normal speed. “Aww, is this where you were gonna take me out? Pity, that’s what all these people thought too. Poor woman got close but I averted her attack in time. Ashamed I had to kill her though.”

Once the effects have worn off, your arms are tied behind your back and the man you have been afraid of and detested for years at your back. His breath makes you want to vomit but nothing comes out of your mouth, not even clipped words.

“I had always wondered what made you and your family so great. Why everyone from your old home and even the yakuza and Shie Hissaki here wanted you! And now I get it.” Fukawa pulls a knife out from behind you and you try to wiggle your way free but his hold is on you tight. “Your quirk is so rare! A healing quirk that can help detect other health problems in the body? What a sight! Now tell me, what was wrong with my guy over here hmm?”

You steady and calm yourself as you recall using your quirk on the healed man beneath you. “Other than being stabbed with a shoe, his blood thinning is getting worse and his heart may give out soon.”

You hear a satisfied hum behind you and the sound of a strangled cry coming from the once healed man. Did, did he stab him?

“He was on his way out anyways. But really I’ve wanted an audience with you! You, you look delicious. Not like these Japanese women here but-“

“You fetishizing piece of shit!”

“There’s that spunk I was looking for,” he chuckles. “You really are something special. And I want you, actually wanted you for a long time. But now that other people want and have you too...

“I don’t want anyone to have you.” The terrifying man dangles the knife in front of your face, “ see this? It’s quirk cancelling. Been waiting for years to use this.” Your stomach drops lower into your body as you begin to realize your fate. You faintly hear the sounds of the police and the two heroes burst onto the scene but it was too late.

Fukawa menacingly whispers in your ear as the doors open, “say hello to your mother for me.”

You don’t feel anything until you look down at your torso, blood staining your clothes quickly as you lose consciousness.

“(Y/n)!!”

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

I’m sorry lol

Taglist: @cupcake-rogue @chefakari @angelofdarkness1020 @pettyjayy @minninugget @bakugosteddybear93 @thatonegeekchick @graybabyxx @rainbowgundrops​

[anakinisvaderisanakin]

Twist of Fate (Anakin and Ahsoka’s meeting in Siege of Mandalore goes a little different, aka sappy sibling AU)

“Every opportunity we waste here, gives Maul an opportunity to slip away,” Bo-Katan pressed, the stern expression on her freckled face conveying her stoic determination.

For a split second, Ahsoka caught Anakin’s pale blue eyes on hers. Forlorn, their depths spoke of a deep seated sorrow. Of disappointment, of insecurities unravelling. She broke the stare to focus on Obi-Wan, still feeling her former master regard the side of her face; her heart aching as she did her best to keep her professional guise up. She had missed him too, but this wasn’t the time to get emotional. It had to wait, and there were so many things she wanted to tell him when the moment presented itself. Now, everything was rushed, the stakes high. She had promised to aid Bo-Katan in the mission of eliminating Maul and his crime syndicate’s control over Mandalore, of deposing Almec. She needed a clear head to prevail in her goal.

“We understand,” said Obi-Wan with a cryptic expression, already moving to take the conversation into more private quarters as he spoke. “Please, follow me.”

Obi-Wan took the lead, Bo-Katan following right behind him. Ahsoka fixed her stare straight ahead, even as she could sense how Anakin expected her to at the very least acknowledge his presence. She’d cut him off, despite his obvious excitement and relief at seeing her again. She wanted to express the same sentiments, wanted to tell him she was glad to be back and meet up again. But the wound was still open, the rift between her and the Jedi order not yet a scar, but an oozing gash. It stung to see Obi-Wan, who had sided with the decision to expel her, even if he may not have agreed with it. 

It hurt to see Anakin, too, despite the fact that he had tried so hard to free her of the false accusations placed on her. He’d managed to clear her name, and she owed him her life for it. But he’d expected her to stay with the Order, with him - and she’d declined. She had secretly hoped he may come clean and follow her lead, knowing that he too wished to sever all ties with the Jedi’s dogma. It appeared both of them had suffered from naive lapses of judgment.

We will have to catch up another time, she’d said.

Ahsoka already regretted it. She could sense the impact the refusal had had on Anakin. She wanted to rectify it, but it was too late. It would take too much time, too much work. Seconds to waste that they simply didn’t have. But with each step, even as the armoured boots of Bo-Katan’s fellow Death Watch squad trailed behind her - Anakin’s melancholic presence remained, looming in the background. Making no attempt to follow them, Ahsoka frowned at the odd occurance. She had meant for him to negotiate on her behalf, to make their case. Surely, if Obi-Wan may be on the fence despite his direct emotional connection to Bo-Katan’s deceased sister; Anakin would be the fuse to light the fire and push him in the right direction. She slowed her walk deliberately, allowing Ursa Wren to pass her by as the last in tow.

No Anakin came up alongside her.

A gnawing sensation of concern made Ahsoka’s stomach churn, and she pursed her lips as she peered over her own shoulder behind her. Anakin was still stalling, lingering between the hydraulic exit port and the ship she and the Mandalorians had arrived in. He was making no attempt to move, head hung low and face turned away from her. Hands balled into tight, trembling fists. Shoulders slumped, quivering with a visible strain. He was tense, paralyzed. As if he’d been rooted to the floor, as if he’d forgotten how to physically move.

She didn’t have the time, and yet even as she began to walk away and follow the small company - Ahsoka faltered. She hesitated, watching the doors slide shut and leave her alone with Anakin in the hangar. The familiar faces of helmeted and unmasked clones prowling about the area, tinkering with ships or carrying cargo. Off to another battle.

Ahsoka took another tentative step forwards, before shutting her eyes and swallowing down the lump of guilt gathering at the base of her throat. She couldn’t just leave Anakin behind, she needed his advice. She needed his devil may care attitude, his clever schemes. She missed his sarcasm, his affection. The brother she had lost, desperate to get back and shutting down so callously. She wanted to apologize. For abandoning him, for walking away, for making him doubt himself. For putting herself first. Taking a deep breath, she rejected common sense and shifted towards him. A few quick strides and she nervously reached out to press her gentle palm to his shoulder.

“Anakin?” she asked, voice soft, as her worry bled through the cracks.

His hair had grown longer, pooling in golden curls at his nape. His bangs covering the side of his face, falling in unruly sandy blonde waves. Biting her lip, Ahsoka felt frustrated when she received no answer. She scowled, wanting to snap at him; tell him to stop it, that they didn’t have time for petty arguments or sparking long gone grudges. She opened her mouth, but shut it again when she caught a sniffle.

Blinking a couple of times, it took a repeated barely restrained sniffle for her to realize Anakin was crying. Brave, loyal, witty, fearless Anakin was crying. At the same time, it dawned on her that she was the reason. 

Tilting her head to the side, she glanced cautiously at his face; using her fingers to tuck his stray curls behind his ear. His eyes were shut; shame evident on his flustered features. Embarrassment, as wetness brimming along his fair lashes. One pearly bead broke free, trailing slowly down over his cheekbone to fall from his jawline. It felt like Ahsoka had been dunked in icy water; the air sucked out of her lungs. She noticed a burning sensation behind her own eyes, stubbornly refusing to tear up. Anakin needed her at the moment, she had to be strong for his sake.

Without a word, she reached out with her thumb to gently brush away the lingering tear streaks over his prickly, faintly stubbled cheek. He flinched, head shooting up as he caught her gaze. His bottom lip quivering, fresh tears welling up in his glassy eyes. Ahsoka said nothing, but simply shifted to wrap both arms tightly around her former master. If she’d expected him to push her away, she’d been wrong. Instead, he larked his own arms around her smaller frame; gathering her in a firm, unrelenting squeeze. She felt him shudder against her, burying his face against her shoulder and exhaling shakily. He sniffled, and gasped for air before letting out a muffled sob.

Ahsoka clung to him, one hand splayed against his strong back; the other gently petting the back of his head. She shut her eyes, and what may have been awkward had she been asked to comfort anyone else, came natural to her. 

She’d seen Anakin mourn, seen him close to tears when Obi-Wan was presumed dead. She’d seen his rage, his anger, his pain. She’d seen his composure wane, his resolve wavering when she turned to walk away from the temple. Sun setting, bathing her in warm twilight. Tears blurring her own vision, knowing she’d never be able to leave if she looked back. He was the only thing that could keep her, the only Jedi loyal to her. The only who would not betray her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered close to his ear, and it barely registered as her own words; his embrace unyielding, and she allowed it without complaint.

“I missed you,” he croaked, another sob barely slipping past his defense as he kept his face hidden from view.

Ahsoka nodded, her own throat feeling tight. She wanted to say something more, to reassure him, to confirm that it was a mutual feeling. Instead, she threaded her fingers through his matted hair. Instead, she placed a chaste kiss against his temple, surprised by how she managed to evade her own urge to weep. She wished she’d hugged him right away, wished she hadn’t been so harsh, wished she hadn’t dismissed his feelings. She’d always known he was sensitive, despite how he may present himself. Even after the fever dream that was Mortis, despite the hazy memories of what felt more like fantasy than reality, he’d been emotionally distraught. He’d feared for her safety, for her well-being. She was grateful for his affection, sometimes she felt as if the only person to truly love her in this world was Anakin.

“I know,” she managed to admit, sighing softly with relief as he relaxed somewhat in her arms.

“I was… so scared. That you might be hurt, that you might be… I felt you, but you were so distant…” he snivelled, sniffing; voice thick and hoarse with tears.

Ahsoka understood, and she hoped as she reached out for his Force signature to rekindle the close bond they’d once had that he could sense that. That he would trust her, learn to rely on her again as she did on him. She was reluctant to withdraw, as was he, even as they knew time was short. The moment had been too quick, too fleeting but as Anakin picked up his head to weakly hold her stare; Ahsoka smiled. Bittersweet, both hands coming up to cup his face. Thumbs stroking his damp cheeks, his hands soon engulfing hers. He swallowed hard, his adams apple bobbing and Ahsoka felt that same concern from before resurface.

“Thank you for coming back. You’re right, we don’t have much time,” he said, clearing his throat as he straightened up and offered her a smile in return.

He sniffed a couple of times, his puffy eyes and flushed complex the only hint to the fact that he had been crying. Ahsoka took his bare left hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. There was sadness in his eyes, but also a resolute sense of understanding; of acceptance. She needn’t reply, they would have time eventually to talk and settle their differences. Now, Mandalore needed their help, and they had stalled the mission entirely too long. Ahsoka gave Anakin a small trademark smirk, as she nudged his arm with her elbow.

“Let’s go, before Obi-Wan gets impatient,” she chuckled.

“Better,” Anakin agreed, his gloom all but lifted and Ahsoka could swear his steps were lighter while they hurried to catch up with the others side by side.

**************

An AU wherein Anakin and Ahsoka get their hug in season 7, and RotS never happens I guess. Just self indulgent, sappy fluff, but I enjoyed writing it.

Ao3 link below:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115100

[mimosaeyes]

This is a dream, then. A fantasy conjured by the last firing of his synapses in the moment before death. Martin silently thanks his subconscious for it. He’s never had faith the way his mother did, but if there is a heaven for him, he’s quite sure it would have Jon in it.

Post-200. Jon and Martin wake up somewhere else. 2.2k, fix-it but not really.

In case this turns out to be the last fic I finish in this fandom, I want to especially thank my beta @emberidzae for introducing me to TMA. Or, at least, for talking about it enough in my general proximity that eventually I got curious.

Someone is cradling Martin’s head on their lap, and running their fingers through his hair. Jon, he thinks absently. He’d know him anywhere, even by such tiny details as the shape of his calluses where he grips a pen, and the texture of his burn-scarred skin.

But that can’t be right. Jon is dead. He’d killed him in the Panopticon, hands shaking until the instant before the knife had plunged in. The only way he could force himself to do it was to make it as quick and painless as possible. He couldn’t falter and draw out Jon’s suffering, not when it was already such a torment to hear him groan and scream as the building began to crumble around them. Or to see the look in his eyes, the utter trust and love warring against the Beholding’s hold on him.

This is a dream, then. A fantasy conjured by the last firing of his synapses in the moment before death. Martin silently thanks his subconscious for it. He’s never had faith the way his mother did, but if there is a heaven for him, he’s quite sure it would have Jon in it.

He breathes, even and steady like he’s trying to fall more deeply asleep. If these are his last seconds of awareness, he wants to spend them just like this.

Then he hears Jon quietly ask, “Are you awake?”

Martin opens his eyes. Jon is peering down at him, his expression tender and tentative. In the weak sunlight, he looks washed out, his features rendered nearly in greyscale. There’s no trace of the bright red from when Martin had lifted a bloody hand to cup his face. The only indication of everything that’s happened is a faint mistiness about Jon’s eyes.

Furrowing his brow, Martin reaches up and touches his cheek. It’s wet; he leaves behind a fine dusting of black sand that has stuck to his fingers. “Are you crying?” he murmurs, almost confused. Surely, if this is all in his imagination, he’d have made Jon happy.

Jon surprises him with a soft laugh. “Tears of relief, Martin. Look around.”

Reluctantly, still half-convinced none of this is really happening, Martin rolls to one side and sits up. Jon scoots over a little for him, even though there’s plenty of space. The shore is completely deserted apart from them, and silent but for the gently lapping water.

“Is this...?”

At Martin’s questioning look, a smile slowly spreads across Jon’s face. It’s a complicated one, balanced between joy and disbelief, sadness and resignation. “Somewhere else,” he affirms.

“But I—” Martin stares at Jon. There’s no blood on him, no wound; only a tell-tale rip in his shirt where the knife had gone in. “I killed you.”

“I told you to,” Jon objects. His hands come up as if to touch Martin, who rocks back on his haunches.

“I killed you,” he repeats, this time in a whisper.

Jon watches him for a moment. His shoulders lift in a helpless sort of shrug. “Or maybe,” he says, “you killed everything that wasn’t me. Everything tethering them there.”

Martin can feel tears welling up in his eyes. He’s shaking his head slowly, but he doesn’t know why. It’s not like he can deny the physical fact of Jon, here with him, miraculously unharmed and apparently, entirely human. It’s not like he wants to, either. He just hadn’t been expecting to wake up again — in a world he may have helped to doom, next to a boyfriend he was supposed to have died with.

It’s a lot to process.

A single sob escapes Martin, and at once Jon is hushing him, almost vaulting forward in his rush to pull him into a hug. They meet awkwardly halfway, in a tangle of clumsy limbs and warmth. 

With Jon’s arms around him, Martin lets himself just cry for a while.

It feels long overdue. The back of Martin’s throat has felt tight and strained since the moment he woke up to find Jon gone. He’d rushed to find Georgie, Melanie, and Basira, and then he’d rushed up the countless flights of stairs in the Panopticon, not daring to stop and catch his breath for fear he’d be too late. He was, anyway, and the moment Jon had turned around to face him, voice crackling with static and eyes illuminated as if from within, it had all come crashing over Martin: Jon had left him behind after all. He’d broken his promise, been so willing to die in some perverse kind of atonement that he hadn’t even waited to say goodbye.

Martin hardly dares to believe he’s here now, rubbing soothing circles over his back and murmuring, “It’s okay. Shh. I’ve got you.”

It takes some time, but eventually Martin subsides. The trembling stops and his breathing slows. Mildly embarrassed, he pulls back from the embrace. “Don’t ever,” he says wetly, poking Jon in the chest, “do that to me again.”

“I won’t,” Jon says softly. He waits until Martin has settled back on the sand, then takes his hand and interlaces their fingers. 

For a while, they both stare out at the water, the way the seafoam stands out against the dark beach.

“Any idea where this is?” Martin asks.

Jon shakes his head. “I think Iceland has black sand beaches, but... you know. That’s back in our reality.”

Martin lets out a long breath. “It worked, then.” His voice is muted with weariness. “We saved the world.”

“And doomed every other one.” Without letting go of Martin’s hand, Jon pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them.

“Not everything is your fault, Jon. We all agreed on the plan.” 

He waits, but Jon gives no sign of having even heard the words. He watches him for a long moment, biting his lip. Then he clambers to his feet and pulls on their linked hands. “Come on.”

Jon blinks up at him. “Where are we going?”

“On a walk,” Martin tells him.

The beach looks the same in either direction, and a steep wall of volcanic rock prevents them from going farther inland. Undaunted, Martin starts off towards the left. Jon follows, possibly from force of habit. They’d gone on many such walks together, in the halcyon days at the safehouse before the world ended. 

Normally, Martin would point things out as they passed them by — good cows being a bonus, of course — but this place seems eerily devoid of life. There aren’t even any seashells or bits of driftwood. The air is still. The fog sits in heavy reams.

He’s just wondering if he should bring it up when Jon abruptly starts talking. He’d given one last statement, he admits, up in the Panopticon before Martin arrived. Becoming the pupil of the Eye had given him answers, at long last, about how the entities came to be. 

Jon’s train of thought is uncertain, and he frowns a lot as he rambles. Sometimes he stops and gazes out across the water, the look in his eyes vacant. It’s probably just a side effect of his being ripped away from the Ceaseless Watcher, Martin tells himself. Probably.

“We created monsters,” Jon says at last, “and then I set them loose on the whole universe.” He stops walking and hunches his shoulders. “What does that make me?”

Martin closes his eyes for a moment. “Jonathan Sims, you are not a monster.”

Beside him, Jon’s breathing goes shaky. “But I told you—”

“That I wouldn’t want to see what was left of you?” Martin interrupts. He hasn’t forgotten the desperate look on Jon’s face in that moment, when he’d first refused to leave him. “I’m looking at you right now, Jon, and you know what I see?”

Illogically, he’s almost angry at him; that’s how frustrated he is that the man he loves cannot seem to stop blaming himself for everything. “I see someone who has given everything to make things right. Who chose kindness, even though he’d been marked and manipulated. Even though he kept getting kidnapped and hunted and hurt and — and used.”

Jon is staring at him now, wide-eyed. Martin thinks about the way he’d looked in what he thought were their last moments together. Beautiful and beatific. He touches two fingers to Jon’s chin, tilting it up. “It’s not monstrous to protect the people you love,” he says. “It’s human.”

With his free hand, Jon swipes at a tear that’s running down his cheek.

“Okay?” Martin presses, but gently.

Jon sniffs. “Has anyone ever told you,” he says, “that your pep talks can be rather aggressive?”

He’s deflecting, but Martin decides to let him get away with it. He’s pushed hard enough for now. In any case, he thinks his words have hit home, at least to some extent. There’s still guilt in Jon’s eyes, but although it runs deep, Martin thinks it looks a little less sharp.

Pulling back and turning to resume their walk, he says, “They have to be, to get through your thick head.”

A corner of Jon’s lips quirks up. “That sounds like something Basira would say.”

“Is she alright, do you think? And Georgie and Melanie?”

Jon waves a hand. “I’m sure they’re fine. They’re probably putting the world back together already.”

“Probably make it better,” Martin muses. He sighs. “They’ll have their work cut out for them.”

A beat. “And what about us?” Jon asks quietly. “What do we do now?”

They fall silent, each contemplating the question. 

If they’ve ended up in the same world as the entities, Martin figures, at some point they’ll probably have to start seeking out organisations like the Magnus Institute, working out who the next Archivist is. And if they somehow stop the apocalypse from happening, it’ll only be for a while. There will always be another attempt to foil. 

By some miracle, they’ve made it here. Maybe they’ll be able to build a life together, and enjoy it for a while. But mostly, the future Martin sees stretching ahead of them is just full of more danger and guilt and sacrifice. 

Jon must be thinking along the same lines, because he sighs and says, “Do you know what this reminds me of? It’s like I thought the play was over, but it turns out it’s only the intermission.”

“What did you want it to be?”

For the space of several breaths, Jon is silent. “A good epilogue,” he says at last. “I’d like to think we deserve that much.”

Martin swallows past a sudden lump in his throat. There isn’t really anything he can say to that, so instead he gives Jon a little nudge, and keeps walking.

When he next looks up, his eye snags on a shape on the shoreline ahead of them. It’s the first thing they’ve come across since they woke up here and started walking. In tacit agreement, they both wander over to get a closer look. 

It’s a small boat, complete with a set of oars. The wood has only the faintest suggestion of brown. It’s been bleached to a light grey, though how long that would have taken, Martin can’t guess. 

He clears his throat. “Is anything about all this just a little bit on the nose to you?”

“What?” Jon asks, still peering at the boat. Then: “Oh.”

This looks more like an ocean than a river, Styx or otherwise, but Martin can’t deny that there’s something ethereal about this place. Interstitial. Plus, there’s the otherwise inexplicable fact that Jon’s wound is gone. Honestly, he should have put it together sooner.

He notices Jon watching him then, his head canted and his expression fond. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Jon says. “You’re just... taking the possibility that you’re dead very well.”

“So are you,” Martin points out.

Jon shrugs. “I’ve had time to get used to the idea. Besides, you’re here.”

His smile, at that moment, is a brittle thing. Martin finds he has to look away from it.

They never seem to get enough time, do they? The cottage in Scotland. That week at Upton House. And now this. Part of Martin is tempted to try and stay here, in this final pocket of respite. He knows that’s irrational, though. 

Maybe this is just a very dramatic-looking beach, and they’ll feel very silly when they wash ashore. Or maybe they’re right. Maybe they’ll get in that boat and... pass on, head towards the light — any one of the phrases people have invented to give shape to the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller returns.

Either way, Martin realises, they have to find out. And at least they’ll find out together. Subconsciously, he tightens his grip on Jon’s hand.

“What are you thinking?” Jon asks softly.

Martin looks at him for a long moment. “I did want to take you rowing.” Such light words for the weight of what they imply.

“Where you go,” Jon says, “I go.”

Martin smiles. “That’s the deal.”

It takes them a while to get a rhythm going after they push off from the shore. Martin rows, and after a while, to his mild delight, Jon starts singing a sea shanty under his breath, keeping time to the beat of the oars. 

And as the shore disappears behind the fog, Martin is surprised to find that colours start to filter back into the world. Pinks and yellows, the likes of which the sky above his head hasn’t contained in so long.

He looks at Jon, who looks back at him and nods. 

They meet the sunrise. They leave the world behind.

[also available on AO3 here]

[my TMA fic on AO3]

[bytheangell]

I Just Want to Feel Something Today

(A s02e11 inspired fic) (Read on AO3)

“Emotions serve a purpose. You don’t go through what you just went through, witnessing all that death and not feel something, Jace! It’s not good for you! Just feel something. Whether you think it clouds your judgment or not.”

Clary’s words catch Jace by surprise. He expects anger, denial, frustration… and he supposes, in a way, that’s exactly what he gets. Except instead of being aimed at him, those emotions come from Clary on behalf of himself. She’s upset, but she’s upset because he keeps pushing away anything that would make him actually stop and deal with everything that’s happening. She’s not mad at him, but at the way he is thanks to years of careful conditioning to push his emotions aside and lock them away so they aren’t a distraction.

And she’s right. It isn’t that he hasn’t felt anything, it’s that he’s buried every feeling he gets the moment it starts to form. He’s ignored every negative emotion because he hasn’t had time to deal with any of them, and he’s pushed away any remotely positive emotion he’s felt because he doesn’t deserve to feel anything good, not now, not after everything he’s done.

How long has it been since he let himself actually feel something, good or bad, all the way through? He certainly has plenty of emotions to choose from. Plenty of moments and events to focus on.

Not here, though. Not now. There’s still work to be done and plans to be made. He’s done enough damage already that a few more hours of keeping everything neatly tucked away won’t hurt. So he waits until he’s certain Clary is long gone and calls the elevator to face the rest of his day.

---

It isn’t long before Jace finds himself on the rooftop of the Institute, thankful for the solitude it provides him. He hadn’t realized how stifling the walls of the Institute felt until he’s outside of them, breathing in the fresh air, letting the slight breeze run through his hair the closer he walks to the edge of the roof overlooking the city.

It’s easier here, he thinks, to try and let go. This isn’t the first time he’s escaped to the roof to be alone and process things, and he’s sure it won’t be the last. It’s been so long that he wonders if he remembers how to let it all go… no, not go. How to let it all in.

“You’re hurting,” Alec had said as they sparred earlier. And Jace was - he still is. The hurt never stops, not now, not when there’s evidence of the pain he’s caused at every turn. It’s in the stress lines on Alec’s face, in the way the other Shadowhunters won’t meet his gaze, and the way the Downworlders would meet his gaze - but with nothing but hatred in their eyes. The pain is the easiest thing to let himself feel because it’s what he thinks he deserves the most - the disappointment, the anger, the despair.

He feels his chest tighten with emotion, too many to pick apart and name, and does his best to fight the urge to swallow it all back down and walk away, back inside where he can justify putting back on the mask of Being Okay.

Instead, Jace allows his mind to move on to something else he’s been effectively ignoring. Because after the Soul Sword his next biggest problem is Simon and the fact that he’s a Daylighter now, with all signs pointing to Jace’s blood being the catalyst.

Jace feels nothing but dread at the idea of this being true. There was so much going on at the time that he hadn’t considered the possibility that his blood is the reason Simon can walk in the daylight now. If that’s true it doesn’t just put him at risk, it puts Clary at risk, too. And not just from the other vampires but from the Clave. The Clave would hate this revelation. Worse, the clave would fear it, fear the possibility that Nephilim blood could be used to rid the vampires of their biggest weakness. There’s no telling what they’d do to him and Clary if they found out, and that’s a thought that genuinely worries him in a way that not much else does.

“No matter what, your secret’s safe with me. (...) You have nothing to worry about, I got your back.”

Loath as Jace is to admit it, even just to himself, he does trust Simon and believes when Simon swears that he isn’t going to say anything. If it were anyone else Jace would be worried they’d use the knowledge for blackmail later, to hold it over his head as leverage, but it isn’t anyone else. It’s Simon. And yeah, Jace trusts him, for whatever that’s worth.

Somewhere between the jealousy and the nearly dying to save Simon’s life, there’s witty banter and mutual appreciation. Simon has nothing to lose and everything to gain from sharing their secret with the other vampires, but he won’t. Jace thinks of Simon’s attempts to hug him, of casually affectionate touches and warm smiles and the fact that he’s… hell, they’re friends, aren’t they?

Clary stood by him out of perceived sibling loyalty. Izzy and Alec would always do the same. But Simon? Jace has so few people on his side that Simon’s loyalty isn’t something he takes lightly. Surprisingly, the idea of having Simon so resolutely in his corner is such an overwhelming realization that the relief of it brings the first tears to Jace’s eyes. Once they start they don’t stop, especially not as his thoughts turn to Clary.

“What else are you hiding from me?” Jace wishes he could blame Valentine for his fallout with Clary, but he knows that wouldn’t be true. It’s Jace’s fault he didn’t tell Clary sooner - he had plenty of opportunities, plenty of time, but more than that: she deserved to know. He’d just been too scared, too selfish to do it. He said he didn’t want to ruin things with her and Simon but that was just another lie. He wasn’t afraid she’d leave Simon for him once she knew, he was afraid that she wouldn’t. That he could have her now, and she could have him, but she wouldn’t want him the way he still wants her.

Because deep down he’s still just a scared, insecure boy, using that carefully crafted bravado to cover up the truth of what he’s actually afraid of: not being good enough. He knew it couldn’t last forever, but as long as Clary didn’t know she had a choice he could avoid the reality of her not choosing him.

Except now he may have lost her for good, and not just to Simon.

Of course, she doesn’t trust him now. She may never trust him again, and he wouldn’t blame her. He let her down, not for the first time, but arguably the worst time since they met… and that’s saying something, considering everything they’ve been through.

Jace remembers how hurt she looked at the realization that he kept something so important from her, and the tears fall steadily now. He lets that pain in, he lets it mean something. She practically begged him to feel something so it seems only fitting that he feels this the most. Jace closes his eyes against the tears, only to see the image of Clary walking away from him in his mind’s eye. The ache of it knots his stomach, the fear that she may not come back to him, not as a lover or as a friend, is paralyzing.

He lets it in. He feels it, all of it.

The tears continue to fall and Jace continues to feel everything from the past few hours, the past day, the past week. Everything he pushed away. Everything he buried, finally allowed to break through the surface.

Regret. Anger. Relief. Sorrow. Loss. Hope. Fear. Sadness. Love. Pain. Loss.

He feels all of it.

There’s a sound behind him and Jace knows it’s Alec behind him on the rooftop before he ever hears his parabatai speak. He reckons he could take a minute to collect himself and brush this off without Alec pushing it - he already silenced the sobs that shook his entire body only moments before. Another thirty seconds and he could give some bullshit excuse about being upset over Clary and move on to whatever Alec came looking for him to talk about. Alec knows when Jace wants to talk and when he doesn’t, knows when he can push and get something out of Jace and when it was a lost cause. It’s why Alec asked him about the Downworlders and about Clary while they sparred earlier, knowing that Jace needs a side of distraction with his honest conversation. It’s easier to talk between punches, to discuss emotions while simultaneously having a physical release for them.

This? Crying, with no singular reason or cause, just because... just because he tried to face his emotions and became immediately overwhelmed by the weight of it all? He doesn’t do this. They don’t do this. They do eye-rolls and thinly veiled admissions of not being fine - but also not wanting to talk about it - in between hits with a staff. They do brief moments of serious conversation while literally pinned to the ground and unable to escape.

They don’t do falling into each other’s arms in tears... and yet that’s exactly what Jace wants to do right now.

“Jace, you okay?”

No. He isn’t okay, and no amount of sparring is going to fix it this time around. There aren’t enough distractions in the world, which is unfortunate, because they’re about to summon a Greater Demon to the Institute and Jace can’t get his fucking shit together. At least, not on his own. It took Clary’s influence to get him to this point, and he knows what he needs to move further. Maybe not to closure, but to something close.

So he turns around, eyes bloodshot and face streaked with tears, and gives Alec what is probably the most lost, helpless look he’s ever willingly allowed anyone to witness.

Alec doesn’t say he’s sorry, or ask what’s wrong - he simply moves to close the space between them and wraps his arms around Jace, pulling him close. Jace allows himself to be pulled, to be tucked into the firm but gentle embrace of his parabatai.

After a moment Jace tries to pull away, to shrug off Alec’s comfort as the guilt of not deserving it settles again, but Alec holds firm. Jace came up here to be alone, but maybe being alone isn’t what he needs just then. Just like keeping everything bottled up wasn’t what he needed, either. It took Clary to realize that, and it takes Alec’s insistent presence for him to realize that he needs these moments of comfort from his brother that he’d never allow himself otherwise.

They stay this way, silent except for the slowly quieting sobs from Jace until the tears stop completely. Only then does Alec finally loosen his grip around him enough for Jace to pull back.

“Feeling things is overrated,” Jace manages, and the words startle a laugh out of Alec despite the situation.

“Clary?” Alec hazards a guess, not that it’s a difficult conclusion to reach.

“Clary,” Jace confirms. “Among other things.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alec offers, sounding as uncertain in asking as Jace is in his answer.

“No,” Jace admits. Except he’s starting to realize what he wants isn’t always what he needs.

Jace sighs.

“But maybe I should.”

[tinyhwng]

all at once

request? yes (anon)

pairing: idol!bang chan x reader

t/w: none 

genre: fluff + very slight angst

word count: 2,913 (got a little carried away)

a/n: okkkkkk i’ve been out of this game for sooo long so im sorry if this isn’t the best but i tried! anyways, ending this was a little challenging but i hope it still ties everything nicely :) enjoy! 

summary: seeing you again, he realized that somehow, the feelings he tried to escape once seemed to have returned slowly, but all at once and you failed to realize that their latest song was all about what he felt for you.

Last week, you had met a producer for a project and you had set up another meeting date to discuss future plans about your music. He kindly offered to meet up at his studio and you had no reason to decline which resulted in you meeting his eight other friends that you now so dearly felt attached to. But out of all of them, the one you bonded the most was Chan. He felt similar yet different. He talked about the deepest things and let himself bring comfort to your terrible days. You vented about the exhausting amount of stress that slowly tore through your resilient willpower to make it through as an artist. He comforted you through the days that made you regret where you were today and helped you bring out the emotions you kept all to yourself. He was someone that mattered a lot to you. A best friend anyone would be so lucky to have.

But things started going south.

You noticed the lack of attention he gave you and you thought that maybe, he was just busy and you tried to understand that. Yet as things went on, his lack of time became even more obvious. He would go out of his way to avoid you, not attend the meetings that involved you and from then, you saw him less and less. You tried calling him but the only response you would receive is his voice telling you to leave a voicemail. You asked the other boys if something had been bothering Chan but all the answer they could give you was that he was "busy". Bullshit. You didn't know what you had done wrong and that was enough to anger you. You wanted to apologize but he wouldn't even face you. 

Nothing seemed right. If he was going through something, you wondered why he wouldn't even bother telling you. It wasn't until you bumped into him at a nearby coffee shop that you finally had a chance to talk to him.

"Chan!" You called out for the boy.

Almost jumping, he turned around to face you. His face almost mortified. "H-Hey."

"Can we talk?" You peeked under his hat, his eyes barely visible to you. "Please?"

You both sit at a table as the atmosphere filled with tension grew. 

"What are you working on?" Your eyes glance at his laptop which he's been typing on ever since you had gotten there.

"Producing stuff." He answered, quickly but softly.

"Oh, for who?" You were beating around the bush, feeling slightly terrified of what he may say if you ask him what's been bothering you.

"No one yet. Just for future references." 

"Chan-"

His eyes freeze at the screen.

"Are you mad at me?"

His eyes quickly shoot back at you, confused at first but realized that you might've felt that way with the way he's been acting around you. "What? No"

"Then why are you ignoring me?"

"I'm not ignoring yo-"

"Stop it. Stop lying." You look down, frustrated that none of your answers were answered. "It's been weeks Chan. We wouldn't have talked if I never bumped into you here."

"I'm just busy Y/N." His voice became softer, wanting to comfort you. He knew you felt frustrated but he did too.

"Could've you at least have told me that? So then maybe I wouldn't be spending days and nights thinking of what I did so wrong that you don't even bother to look for me." Your voice trembled. It wasn't the first time he'd seen you this vulnerable but it was definitely the first time that he was the reason you looked like that. 

‘’I know, and I'm sorry. I-I really should've told you but with all the stress... I- don't know. I lost track y/n" You could hear the sincerity from his voice and although you were supposed to be mad at him at that moment, you couldn't help acknowledge his words. "And y/n, I really wasn't mad at you. I promise. It's just-

"Just what?" 

"Nothing. I don't think it's the right time to tell you that right now."

"Why would it not be the right time? Are you leaving or something?"

"No- it's not that. I'll tell you soon, I promise."

You nod at his response, not knowing what to expect but somehow, his words eased you that truly, there was nothing to be worried about. You felt relieved that you now know that you had done nothing wrong.

The two of you parted ways shortly after he received a call from his manager. It was a short meeting but it meant a lot and very much answered the questions you've been wondering about.

A week after your last meeting, you decided to visit the studio to visit the boys. It was a spare time in your schedule so you decided to surprise them. You entered the studio and immediately counted the heads where you noticed that one of them was missing. "Hi, guys." You greeted, lifting the box of chicken with both of your hands that you brought. They immediately ran to you, with incoherent thank yous and we missed yous.

"Where's Chan?" Your eyes continued to wander the room, wondering if he was somewhere you had just missed. 

“Not here." the youngest said with Chicken occupying his mouth. "Why?"

"Well, I just thought he'd be with you guys."

"Studio. His studio." Jisung ran up to you, with chicken in his hands and offered it. "Eat with us, y/n."

You nicely declined as you had eaten prior to coming there. "Where's the studio?"

"Down the hall, to the left" Seungmin responded. "He's been there for hours so I don't think he'll mind company."

"Thank you." You made your way out of the room, with a cup of hot chocolate for Chan and a cup of coffee for yourself. You soon made it down the hall, facing your left as you inhaled in before knocking.

The door slowly creaked open with barefaced Chan staring back at you. "Ahh--- Y/N what the heck." His face looked flustered, his ears quickly turning red as you giggled your way in.

"Let me in Chan, please." You cautiously laughed, not wanting to spill the drinks you had been holding.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming... I look terrible right now." 

"You literally look the same but go off."

"Ouch." Chan teased, his hands still covering half his face.

"No- I mean you look good still." You blurted out. "Anyways- How's it going?"

You and Chan exchange greetings and he lets you listen to bits of the songs he's been working on.

"Wow Chan, it sounds so good."  You stare at his computer in awe. You pulled out a chair and sat beside him as you began skimming through his other songs. "Ugh, why are you talented. This isn't fair." You muttered, with your eyes fixed on the screen.

You weren't looking but Chan was too distracted to even respond to what you were saying. His eyes fixed on you as you listened to the songs he's worked so hard on. He loved it when people listened to the things he created but somehow, it was different with you. The look you have that just got his heart beating faster than usual. The way you compliment his skills like he was the only one capable of doing it. Anything you did just felt so special to him and lately, you were the one that had been going through his mind as he produced songs. Butterflies were definitely an understatement.

As you skimmed through his neverending folder of songs he's never put out, you stumbled upon one called the moon behind the stars. You played it, not knowing what it was. As the melody played, your heart eased into it. Somehow, you wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. It was so beautifully made that you had lost track of where you were but something was missing. The lyrics.

"Chan, wheres the lyrics for this one. It's too good to not have one." You asked, turning your attention towards him.

"There isn't any-" A slight panic in his tone made you even more curious. "It's unfinished."

"It was created almost two years ago though. Something like this should be out there Chan, I'm telling you. It's beautiful."

"I know but it doesn't really fit into any of our album themes yet." He scratched his head.

"Why not?"

"It's a love song, y/n."

"Oh-" Your face looked back to the computer in shock, repeating the song again. "What is it about though?"

"It's cheesy-" he replied, cupping his own cheeks as he whined.

"Oh please. Cheesy is literally MY genre." You laughed.

He sighed, "okay then." You made yourself comfortable as you stared at him, waiting for him to tell you all about it. "Well first, the title "the moon behind the stars" means two things. First, it illustrates how a person is too scared to admit that they're in love but still wants to have a good front towards the other person they're trying to distance themselves from, thus, "the moon behind the stars. Second, it's about the moon representing the one you have feelings for. Even with all the stars, shining and being pretty, somehow, it's always the moon that catches your eye. Almost like, 'there's plenty of fish in the sea but you're the only one I see.' and it has a melodic piece because even though you see them all the time, it's almost impossible to actually be with them. The space between the world and the moon represents the other person's fear and anxiety towards losing the other person. I say it's a love song but it could pretty much pass as a sad song at this point." Chan giggled. "Well- that's kind of all I have for that."

You listened, wonderstruck and speechless at his explanation. "H-How did you even come up with this? All this time I thought you were just an angsty teen who wants to overthrow the government but I guess I'm wrong."

He loudly laughed. "I don't know either."

‘’Unless... it's through experience." You teased, pinching his sides.

"Wha- no. It's not like that. I was just messing around, really." He explained but with the most unconvincing tone.

You definitely didn't buy it. "Who was it Channie. Tell me."

Channie... it had been a while since you had called him that. He's been trying to stay away from you so he could sort his feelings out. He wanted to get over you, fearing that maybe wanting you more than as a friend could put your friendship at risk. But as soon as you muttered his nickname Channie again, his feelings for you came back, slowly and all at once. It hit him as he saw you giggle as you teased him. He sat there with a rapidly beating heart, admitting that maybe, his feelings were never gone. He looked away, feeling his mouth dry out. The love of his life was in front of him and fear was the only thing that kept him from telling you so. He shyly stuffed himself behind his hands, knowing he had been blushing the whole time.

"Chan- are you okay?" You stopped yourself in the middle of laughing with a concerned look in your face. You placed a hand on his back, not knowing why he was suddenly like that.

"I'm okay." He said behind his hands. His voice was soft, but you could tell he was smiling.

"Are you shy? Did me asking who it was made you that shy?" You teased. "They must've been special, Chris."

His heart was about to explode. You calling him Chris was probably his greatest weakness and although he hears that a lot, hearing it from you made it sound so special. If you could just say it once more, he would definitely combust.

"Chan your ears are red, oh my god. Are you okay?" 

He sat upright, collecting himself after almost losing himself. "Yes, I'm okay." He smiled, breathing heavily. 

"I'm surprised you never told her about this." You muttered, repeating the song once more. "Probably would've loved it."

"I doubt that."

"What do you mean? Every girl I know that trained under this building during that time had the biggest crush on you."

"Yeah, right." He turned to you. "Did you?"

"Of course. I told you, Chan. Every single girl did."

His face froze at your upfront answer. Stuttering as he tried to go back to the conversation.

"Are you that surprised that I liked you? I thought it was pretty obvious back then."

"Wha-"

"So you didn't think of anything when I was always using the same studio you guys were using? Are you kidding?" You laughed.

"No..."

"I literally came to your busking event when I had an evaluation half an hour after that." Tears were almost coming out of your eyes as you laughed out loud.

"Oh my god, y/n"

“I know. I was pathetic."

"This whole time... I thought you liked Hyunjin."

"What the fuck- Chris are you kidding? Please say sike."

"I'm not. I literally thought-"

“Hyunjin's my family friend oh my god. He's literally like a cousin to me."

Chan covered his open mouth with his hand, shocked at what he was hearing. ”Oh my god, y/n"

"You're stupid." You teased, slapping his arm. "I did so much and you didn't even notice shit. This is peak embarrassing, Chan."

"I- I'm sorry." he teased.

"The hot chocolate I brought after the JYP stage, the-"

"The hot chocolate? Didn't you give everybody one."

You facepalmed at his response. "I- I gave everybody a cup of coffee dumbass. I knew you didn't like coffee so I specifically ordered hot chocolate just for you."

He went speechless, feeling bad that he looked over your effort back then.

You sighed, "whatever, it's okay. It's over now." 

Suddenly, Chan wanted to confess something. "Actually, y/n."

"Hm?"

"That song," he pointed at his computer. "It's about you."

You stared at him for a while, not comprehending his words. "Sorry?"

"It's about you. You're the moon behind the stars."

"Huh?" You hurriedly repeated the song. 

Chan shyly muttered but it was too incoherent for you to understand, "Sorry can you say that again."

"I- It's actually finished," he confessed. "But it's context is different but I kept the melody and everything."

"What- how?"

He took the mouse from your hand and searched through his folder. Neverending Story.

"Here it is." 

"Wait- Chan. This is released though?"

"Yeah, I know. It's uhh, about you." he voice was soft, almost too quiet to hear.

"It's finally admitting my feelings and that however things might turn between us, I won't ever let go as a person that deeply cares for you and that however long I might have to wait, it's okay because, in the end, my feelings for you just don't ever seem to go away." 

You stuttered in response, not knowing how to take this all in. You've liked him then and you've always felt the same since. 

"Chan- this is beautiful. I don't know what to say."

"It's okay. You don't have to."

"Is this why you have been ignoring me?"

"Kind of. I put out this song with everything I've always wanted to tell you and it was really hard to face you. I know you didn't feel the same but I wanted to at least tell you what I've felt. I was wondering that maybe putting out this song and ignoring for you a bit would make everything go away and let me accept how things are between us now but I realized that somehow, my feelings never left. Every time I'd see you, my heart beats a special type of way and always makes me think that maybe, the moon might not be that impossible to reach." 

You could see him tremble as he explained everything to you. You reach out, holding his hand. "Thank you, Chris. This song is beautiful and so is the message. I'm sorry if I made you think that I would never reciprocate your feelings-"

"y/n, you don't have to-"

You cut him off. "The truth is that, after all this time, I really do still like you. More than before, and I feared that I would get in the way of your dreams. I wanted to be your support still which is why I stayed behind all this time. You have been there through my worst and my successful times. You made me the artist that I am today and you let me stay as the person I am around you. Chris, I don't know where this will take us but I hope you know I still really do like you a lot."

Chan took hold of your hand and sobbed as he held them close. "Thank you, y/n. Thank you so much."